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skateboreds · 2 years ago

Text

A Slice of Orange

chp. 1

*FKA The Orange Slice*

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: The most dangerous man in town has been staring at you nonstop, but keeps his distance until the night he walks you home...

tags: smut, medium burn, sexy stuff starts in chp.3, age difference, M/F, a lot of goddamn eye contact that turns into porn, porn w plot, zaddy joel, hand/finger kink, praise kink, mild blood in later chps, TLOU pt.II, NO Y/N

notes: Set at the beginning of The Last of Us Part II when Joel and Ellie live in the Jackson, Wyoming community, a few years after TLOU part I. Deviates from canon apart from that. Characterizations based mostly on the first game.

AO3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45087460/chapters/113423947#workskin

CHAPTER ONE

This guy’s a real fucking asshole, isn’t he?

The thought forms while you take in Tate, the man who runs Jackson’s trading post. He stands there sneering, withered inside and out. He has always been a condescending short-changer and a grade A, absolute-mother-fucking, asshole.

“These boots are worth at least twenty, Tate.” you say with as much venom in your voice as you can muster.

The boots were old, but the leather was still good and you weren’t walking away without fifteen cards at least. Rent was due soon and you’ve been skipping meals more often than you’d like in order to make sure you had enough.

“I figured you were stupid sweetheart, but not that stupid. Those piece of shit boots are barely worth five.” he drawls, leaning over the counter towards you.

Five!? Five was barely anything, five was a handful of buttons at best. He smirked, clearly on an ego high. That smirk, the smirk of men who didn’t think you had a place to fight in this new hardened world, all too familiar, set you off. If you were smart, you’d keep your mouth shut and take what you could, but anger propels you to take a step towards him, to show him you’re not afraid.

“And I figured the most disgusting thing I had ever seen was a bloater with half its brains blown out till I saw you.”

Tate’s face grimaces and you prepare to have your boots thrown in your face when a short laugh comes from the entrance of the cramped shop. You both whip your heads, craning yours to look almost directly behind you. All the anger fades out of you as you see him. Large, broad shoulders, faded flannel shirt pushed up his forearms to show tan skin and corded muscles. You swallow dryly.

Joel Miller.

He’s leaning against the open doorjamb, arms folded over his chest. His face is hard, eyes cold as they always are, but there is a small smile on his lips. You didn’t hear him come in, silent, always so silent. It’s happened more times than you can count. You’d be getting a drink, or on a run to the general store, and the air would change. People would get quiet and careful all of a sudden, the only clue you ever got that he was around before you saw him. And then you’d spot him, sidling up at the bar, or filling a pack with supplies. His massive frame in his usual tan outdoorsmen jacket, his salt and pepper beard and thick waves of dark hair, his quick eyes looking at you. Why were they always looking at you? You wondered this constantly. Were you making it up? You didn’t think like you were, you could feel his eyes on you when you were in the same room, never for long, but always impossibly intense. You wondered if you bothered him. If the flame in his regard was because he disliked you, like a lot of men in this town did. You were used to that; you were a loudmouth, known for telling off anyone who got in your way, and here that happened quite a bit. When you’re a girl and you don’t know how to fight, you learn to scare people off with your words. And it usually works, until it doesn’t. Like with Tate. Which brings you back to the moment you’re in.

You have the satisfaction of seeing Tate stiffen with fear, his face blanching as Joel eases himself off the doorframe and slowly approaches you both. He stops when he reaches your left shoulder, your arms almost brushing as he places three plump, dead pheasants on the counter. Your body has two very strong reactions to this. Firstly, electricity zings on your skin at the lost touch. Secondly, your stomach growls at the sight of the birds and how long they’d keep you fed. You hope he can’t hear the latter.

“I’ll take fifty for these, and twenty-five for the boots.”

Your eyes widen. So do Tate’s.

“Oh, you can’t be serious, Joe-“

Joel cuts Tate a look that stops him dead in his tracks. He stares back at Joel, trying to muster half the intimidation the man besides you holds and fails miserably. He takes too long to move though, so Joel takes one step forward and Tate backs away.

“Fine.” is all Tate says as he grabs the dead birds and your boots and walks to the back of the store.

You’re only aware that you’re gaping at Joel when he slowly steps back and turns to take you in. You snap your mouth shut, realizing it’s been hanging open like a beached fish.

You don’t know what to say so you just stare back at him. Several moments pass.

“You run your mouth to everyone in this town yet got nothing to say to me?” he finally speaks.

If anyone else had said that to you, you would have flipped them off. But Joel’s eyes are different now, not warm, but not ice cold like before either. They seem curious, and that amused smile is tugging at the edge of his mouth again.

“Th-Thank you.” You clear your throat trying to cover the embarrassing stutter that escapes your slightly trembling lips. “But you didn’t have to do that. I can do just fine on my own.”

“I’m sure you can.” is all he replies, eye boring into yours.

You’re pinned there, under his gaze. This is the closest you’ve ever been to him, the most you’ve ever heard him speak. You always wondered what color his eyes were, they looked brown from afar. But there were several times, caught in a slice of sunlight, that something lighter seemed to gleam. Looking at him now, you can make out the shape of them better, surprisingly sweet for such a hardened face. The color remains muddled though, his face backlit and mostly in shadow as you look up at him, a full head taller than you. You haven’t wanted to admit to yourself just how much of a giant crush you have on this handsome man double your age, but standing before him like this, it feels undeniable. You think about him a lot. When you go into town and he’s there, when you go into town and he’s not. When you let yourself write about him in your tattered journal. When you go to sleep, mostly, and whenever you dip your hands below your waistband in your small bed. That, you’ve done an embarrassing amount. You have the same fantasy on loop, of his fingers and what they’d feel like if they worked between your thighs… You don’t want to be thinking of all of this while you stand before him, but you can’t help it and you’re left feeling like he can read it in your thoughts. Like all your hopeless, stupid yearnings are written all over your face and he’s going to see them and laugh out loud. Your cheeks start to burn hot and red and the curiosity in his eyes grows sharper, almost…hungry.

You’re holding your body so rigidly you feel as if you might snap when Tate, thankfully, returns. You are released from Joel’s gaze as he accepts the wad of ration cards that Jackson uses as currency. He turns to leave and gestures at you to follow. You’re surprised at this but you oblige, pausing only briefly to stick out your tongue at Tate. He flips you off as you hasten after Joel into the dim twilight.

The dusty road has a good amount of people on it, and you’re very aware of the fact that you’re now walking alongside the Joel Miller. A few eyes look you up and down as you both pass, no doubt wondering what the likes of you is doing with the scariest man in town.

You follow him wordlessly, not paying any attention to where he is leading you, or why, taking in the wooden buildings around you instead, most streets lined with string bulbs, illuminating the dusk. However, there aren’t as many lights on this side of town, closer to the outskirts, and the indigo outline of snowcapped mountains looms in the distance. Suddenly, Joel pulls something from a side pocket of his pack. In his large hand, he begins peeling a lopsided orange. You can’t help but eye how long his fingers are, working the rind off the fruit. And instead of throwing the peels on the dirt road, like most would, he places each piece into his pocket. You notice this, how gently he handles the fruit, how careful he is not to drop a single scrap of skin. Unusual. His meticulous fingers bring you back to your recurring fantasy. You’re snapped out of it when he then breaks the orange into parts and extends one half out to you. You look at him surprised. He looks back, nonchalant.

Why is Joel Miller offering you half an orange?

Despite your confusion, you can’t help but want it. Fruit isn’t plenty here in the mountains, and oranges have always been your favorite. So, you reach out and take the half from him. Your fingers brush as you grab it, and you feel like you’ve been electrocuted. He pulls back quickly and looks ahead as he pops a slice into his mouth. Slowly, you do the same, trying to hide the tremble in your hand. It’s pretty fucking good. As far as oranges go, this one’s especially sweet. You can’t help the slight smile that pulls on the edge of your lips, but you drop it before he can notice.

You both walk in the growing dark, eating orange slices, when you realize if you are ever going to speak to this man again this might be your only chance.

“It must be nice to have everyone here afraid shitless of you, to know you can make any trade you want” you say truthfully as you pull a fiber of white off your last slice, and carefully pocket it.

He doesn’t answer you.

For some reason this bothers you, mostly because you don’t want him to think that you’re like everyone else, terrified of him. Because you’ve seen him be gentle, mostly when he was with his daughter Ellie, but also moments like now. The perfectly peeled orange half was proof of that. You knew there was something tender in him, deep down. You speak before you think.

“Well, they might be afraid of you…but I’m n-not.”

It comes out sounding like a lie, because it sort of is. You are terrified of him, but for very different reasons from everyone else. Joel stops now and turns to look at you, arching a dark brow.

“Is that so?”

You don’t know how to say anything that could even remotely intimidate this man, so you just set your jaw and stare back with as much bite as you dare to give someone with a hunting rifle slung over their back.

He smirks at this, eyes dancing, and pulls out a wad of card rations, handing it to you.

“Your cut.”

You completely forgot about those, you realize, having followed him just because he asked you to. Your face burns again with the embarrassment of this, following a grown man you hardly knew down winding, dim streets to who knows where. You can’t believe how stupid you feel around him. You look away so he can’t see you blush twice in one day and in doing so you realize where you both stand. To your right is Mabel’s shop, a kind woman who accepts minimal pay for clothing repair. And above that is a series of tiny rooms in a hallway, rooms she rents out to people without much money or family. The one directly on top of the shop front, facing the street with one small square window, is yours. It takes you a second to register that he has brought you home. That he knows where you live. Your thoughts stop and then sputter into chaos.

How does he know where you live??

You open your mouth to question him when, he pops his last slice into his smirking mouth and saunters off without a word of goodbye, his long legs moving swiftly.

How does he know where you live!!!!!!!!!!??????

You try to figure out whether you should be freaked out or impressed by his knowledge when you look down at your rations, expecting to see twenty-five but counting too high. Your brows furrow and you count again, getting the same number. You look up, taken fully aback at his retreating figure, heading towards the residential part of the city.

You’re not sure what it means, and you’re not sure why, but for some reason that you know isn’t a mistake, Joel Miller gave you fifty cards.

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distortionbobble · 3 years ago

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nocturnal.

pairing: bruce wayne x f!reader (or afab!reader)

summary: bruce wayne is a broken and bruised man. you’re the sweet healing that he needs.

warning: minors dni! pwp, D/s dynamics, bondage, biting kink (kinda), masochism, whipping, oral (f!recieving and m!recieving), fingering, handjob, bruce wayne is a sad little man and i could fix him

word count: 3.4k

a/n: huge shoutout to @sleepycapn for beta reading! this was a lot of fun to write, i hope y’all enjoy <33 and as always i’d love to hear your thoughts!!

There was something not quite right about Bruce Wayne. He was made of loss, his soul heavy and sullied by whatever secrets he carried.

Sleep seemed like something that evaded him, judging by the shadows under his eyes. As the lead housekeeper, you’d seen him stumbling night after night through the dark of Wayne manor after another venture into the dreamscape went wrong. He’d go and stare at the glittering garbage of Gotham City below. The Prince of Gotham, watching his kingdom.

You couldn’t tell if he was its protector or its downfall.

He always knew when you were there, eyes meeting yours and lingering on your figure for a second too long before returning to the darkness.

Some nights, he’d go missing. You could tell when you tidied up the next morning, streaks of dirt lining the floors, bloodstains on the marbled tile and the subtle signs of relief and frustration in Alfred. He had a tick, one that you noticed every time the manor was particularly in disarray from Bruce’s nighttime activities. He’d check his pocket watch, flipping it twice before running his thumb over the golden cufflinks that adorned his uniform.

Tonight, though, was different. You’d seen Alfred stalk out of Bruce’s room, face grim as the clicking of his cane agains the wood floors echoed. And you knew instantly that something was wrong, because you hear the anguished screams of Bruce Wayne behind the heavy wooden doors.

“I couldn’t save him,” he screams. Alfred pauses, sighing as he turns his head to the skies in silent prayer.

Alfred almost never left Bruce when he was like this, able to soothe the tortured Prince through his moods. Bruce’s isolation from Alfred at this moment is terrifying to you, and you worry for him.

You can hear footsteps, furious and quick, and you slot yourself behind the cement pillars of the manor as Bruce Wayne storms past, shooting straight to the room where Maria had once devoted hours teaching him to play piano. The doors slam shut again.

A haunting melody begins to echo through the hollow spaces of the hallway, and you swear you can hear the heartbeat of this lifeless manor. You approach the doors, and you can hear the quick working of the piano under Bruce’s fingers get louder, and louder, and louder.

Then suddenly, silence.

The mahogany doors slam open to Bruce, chest heaving, glaring down at you.

“Mr. Wayne,” you address him, surprised. He remains silent, still staring at you before he turns away. His trench coat whirls behind him, fabric just barely hitting you as he returns to the piano.

“y/n,” he calls out suddenly. “I’m going to ask you something. Understand that you have every right to say no, that regardless of your answer, you will lose nothing.” His address does nothing to soothe you, heart rate spiking as you near him.

“I want you,” he says, voice low. “In fact, right now, I need you.” He stands in front of you and pulls something out of the piano bench, but the darkness of the night shrouds the item in mystery. “If you’ll have me,” he continues. God, yes, you did. You want him so bad. Words fail you, so you choose to answer with a sharp nod. His eyes, keen as ever, take notice of your acceptance and he steps closer to you.

Bruce stands in front of you now, impossibly close. “I want you to use these on me,” he whispers, lips skating across the shell of your ear when he leans in. “And I want you to hurt me.”

You nod, trying to maintain your breathing as he thrusts a thin whip into your arms, the leather material cool in your hands as he steps away.

He shrugs off the heavy trench coat, dark and damp from the rain outside. He kicks it to the side as he moves on to his blazer, moving to kneel as he slides it off of his slender frame. His pants are next, sliding down his thick thighs before meeting the floor.

Bruce’s eyes don’t move from you the whole time, tugging at his tie before sliding it up his neck. You watch it drag across his Adam's apple, and he watches your reactions to his performance. You’d rather drag your nails down the column of his throat instead, watch the great Bruce Wayne reduced to a quivering mess under your touch. But you’re forced to watch him, the soft fabric sliding against the sharp lines of his jaw.

Bruce’s head tilts slightly as his fingers move to the buttons of his shirt next, revealing smooth skin decorated by scars that you don’t dare to ask about. You’re distantly aware of your nails digging into your palms, red crescents to try and remind you to control yourself. His fingers work down the length of the buttons, exposing more skin to your hungry eyes as you follow the motions of his hands. Your eyes trail down the length of his chest, drinking in the sight of his muscles and bare skin, flaws turned into art under the dim glow of the city’s reflection streaming through the open windows.

Your body is warm, heady and light with desire as Bruce finishes undressing and watches you quietly, the only movement from him being the subtle waning and waxing of his breathing. And you know that while he’s the one on his knees right now, undressed and at your mercy, the cards are all still in his hands. The revelation raises goosebumps along your skin, and you know that he can see the effect he has on you, plain as day.

The room is silent, save for the quiet sounds of your breathing and the rain pattering against the window panes. You move to his back, getting on your knees as you grasp the discarded tie and wrap his wrists in the silky material. You can’t help but note the broadness and definition of his back, letting his wrists drop before bending down and following the curve of his spine with your nose, pressing open mouth kisses at each vertebrate. Bruce shudders, a low groan spilling out of him as you continue your ministrations until you reach the base of his neck.

He’s tense now, shoulders raised and you gently bite the tense shoulder muscles. “Relax,” you murmur. You’re afraid to raise your voice, afraid that raising your voice will break the delicateness of now. So you resign yourself to the hushed tones of a lover afraid to lose, and all you can do is pray that Bruce is kind enough to ignore it. His skin is warm, and you press your cheek to his back before rising again. The whip is supple and pliant in your hands, and you drag it across the skin on Bruce’s back lightly. The anticipation of pain makes Bruce’s breathing pick up, almost imperceptibly, and you smack the whip against his skin to garner his reaction.

Your motion elicits what sounds like a whine from him as he rolls his head, calling out your name softly when you repeat the motion in the other direction. The strikes leave marks in the shape of a crimson X against his back, blending into the mess of scars and bruises on his back. You trace your nails against the raised lines, and he calls your name out again, louder this time.

“Harder,” he commands. It sounds like a plea at first, but you’d be a fool to think that. Bruce Wayne always gets what he wants. So you bring it down on him harder, the sound of the leather striking against his skin creating a harmony with his moans. They grow louder as you increase your force, sweat beading against his spine and running down the curve of his ass. When you stop, he tilts his head at you, beckoning you to face him with a nod. Your pussy throbs, dripping from the heat of knowing what you’ve reduced him to. It’s like a droprush, a high that you can’t get enough of. Bruce Wayne’s satisfaction was a hell of a drug. So you go to face him, still fully clothed as you gaze down at him.

“I want to taste you,” he states, voice a low growl as you lower yourself to the floor. You tuck your thumb of the elastic of your panties, beginning to pull them down, but Bruce’s low hum stops you. Instead, he bends down, hands still behind his back, and pulls them from under your skirt using his teeth. Your cunt is exposed to cool air, arousal glistening in the darkness. You look like precious gems to him. He tugs your panties down to your ankles, pulling them off with a sharp jerk of his head before spitting them out to the side.

Bruce places his mouth near your calves, alternating between sweet kisses and tugging your skin between his teeth, forcing you to balance the line between pleasure and pain as he moves up your legs. He pauses at your inner thighs, making you whimper as you look up to see his head between your thighs. His mouth is warm against the sensitive skin, and he bites the skin gently before smirking at your silent plea. He blows against your clit, making chills race up your spine before his mouth latches onto your clit. He sucks on it, gentle at first then harder when you begin chanting his name. His mouth begins to flick against your clit, alternating between a soft and slow press of his warm flat tongue and the quick circles of the tip of his tongue. It makes you see stars, forcing you to grasp his hair as you struggle to tamp down your desire.

The sound of Bruce worshiping your cunt with his mouth merge with the quiet moans he forces out of you, a whispered “Bruce, Bruce,” as you writhe against his open mouth. Gasping and moaning as he traced his tongue on your cunt, nose bumping against your clit as he tonguefuckes you. His tongue is warm as it thrusts in and out of you, a rhythmic motion that lures you closer to your edge. He can tell, grip getting tighter on his hair and cries getting louder as he eats you like a man starved.

And then he stops. Suddenly, withdrawing his head before nipping the skin of your inner thighs once more before raising his head above your skirt and dragging it up the length of your body.

His breath is warm, even through your clothes, and you whimper at the contrast of your exposed cunt hitting the cool air versus the warmth of Bruce’s exhale as it travels between the valley of your breasts to stop at your neck.

You can feel his length on your thigh, close enough to your cunt that if you thrusted your body downwards you’d feel it slap against your heat. And you begin to raise your hips, subconsciously, wanting some force to bring you back to the building pressure of your oncoming orgasm. Bruce, however, doesn’t like that, twisting his body so that you brush against his bare hips instead, cock slapping the top of your thigh.

“No, y/n,” he hums out, reminding you subtly that he’s still in charge, despite being bound. And it makes you whine, heady with desire and just wanting to fill the hollow feeling he’d left after he’d ate you out so sweetly.

“Please,” you beg, gasping for him to slide into you, but instead he sits back and nods at his cock.

“Ride,” he states once again. The single word command has you rushing, scrambling to get on your knees before grasping his length with a firm hand. The velvet skin throbs in your palms, warm and smooth. You can’t help but run your thumb over the tip, applying the lightest pressure you can to accompany your feather light touch. He growls at this, a warning for you to listen to his direction, and you cup his balls before hesitantly withdrawing your hand and rising to place your entrance just above his tip. You lower yourself down gently, using a hand to guide it in, and Bruce whimpers as his tip meets your wet heat. Your head meets his chest, and you stifle your moans by leaving quick bites littered along his pecs.

He thrusts his hips up, deeper into you. Your pelvis meets the hard ridges of his v-line, making you stutter in your rhythm as you begin to bounce up and down, legs wrapped around his torso as he kneels. You’re forced to contort your body as you chase your pleasure, back arched backwards as you grasp his neck for balance. Each bounce makes his cock trace your insides, kissing your sweet spot as you slam yourself onto him over and over again. Your clit drags along his abs, hard and warm. The sound of skin slapping against skin is louder than the rain now, joining the symphony of pleasure alongside your moans.

Bruce’s head is nestled into your neck, mouth latched onto your pulse points as he licks and sucks and bites the sensitive skin. He drags his tongue down to the meeting place between your neck and shoulder muscles, sucking hard.

His teeth graze your collarbones as he moves down further, tugging your blouse with his teeth. It’s a demand for you to undress, and you can’t help but crave the depravity of his skin pressed against yours, bare and connected. You tug your blouse above your head, tossing it to the side before pulling your bra down to expose your breasts to him, nipples pebbled from your arousal. Bruce gives an appreciative hum, fixing his mouth on your nipples before sucking hard and biting gently. The warmth of his mouth on your tits combined with the force of his length hitting just the right place makes you clench down harder, bringing you closer and closer before you finally reach your peak.

You finish with a cry, dragging your nails down Bruce’s back and digging them in as you ride out your orgasm. You’re sure that you’ve added to the scars littered on his back. Bruce continues thrusting into your tight heat as you finish, overstimulating your cunt.

You feel hands on your waist and back, undoing your bra and tossing it away before lifting you off of Bruce’s cock and you realize that he’s undone his restraints. He lays you down in front of him instead, slender fingers tracing your finger as he rests the pads of his fingers on your sensitive clit. Your cunt is pulsing, clenching around nothing as you babble nonsensically, desperate for his length to be in you again. You’re dimly aware that Bruce didn’t finish, glimpsing his cock that’s now a throbbing red, leaking precum. When you move to get up, reaching for him in the hopes of helping him out, he places his other palm against you and pushes you down again.

He kisses you now, ferociously. His mouth is on yours, tongue dancing with yours as he presses down like you’re his last breath. There’s a desperation in his touch, fingers still pressed against your cunt as he begins to trace his name with his thumb on your clit.

B. You gasp into his mouth, feeling him rut against you as his length is pressed up against the side of your body. It’s impossibly warm, feverish against your skin as he focuses on your pleasure.

R. He pulls your bottom lip with his teeth, letting go as your nerves flare from the action. His long fingers begin to trace your hole, gentle but demanding.

U. He slips a finger into your heat, rubbing against your velvet walls, still sensitive from your orgasm. It makes a squelching sound, filling the room with the salacious noise as you blush in embarrassment.

C. He stares at you with intensity in his eyes, slim digits sliding in and out of you repeatedly, like the motion of the waves crashing against the shore.

E. You’re nearing your climax, body growing warm when he slips his mouth over the stiff peaks of your breasts, giving a sharp tug between his teeth to each before running his tongue over it, soothing the skin that he angers. He positions his head just below the swell of your breasts, tracing the skin where they end. His lids shut, bloodshot eyes hidden as he continues his worship of you.

You’re close but don’t want it to end, holding on to the edge when you perceive the white sheets covering the unused furniture of the room.

For a second, they look like ghosts.

Ghosts of Wayne manor, haunting this miserable place, forcing Bruce’s misery even as he brings you to your climax.

“Bruce,” you whimper out, looking at the man next to you, so focused on your pleasure that he neglects his own. You force yourself to push him away, palm flat against his muscled torso as you force him to rip his fingers out of you. “Bruce,” you call out, louder this time.

“Why won’t you let me make you cum?” You whisper, grasping his cock firmly in your hand as you stroke his shaft, still coated in your slick. He avoids eye contact at this, staring up at the ceiling as his fists clench at his sides. “Bruce,” you call out, firmer this time and repeat your question. You tighten your hold on his length, and it forces a shudder along his body.

He tries to cover his face with his hands, forcing you to use your other hand to pry them away.

You grasp his chin in your hand, bringing his gaze back to your own as you increase the speed of your strokes. You move your hand down, squeezing his sensitive, heavy balls. It forces a groan out of him, the pain almost pleasuring.

“I don’t deserve to,” he cries out, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

“You do,” you whisper, continuing your strokes as you lean in to pepper kisses against the scars on his torso. “You do, Bruce. You deserve to feel good.” He squeezes his eyes shut at your reassurance, tears sliding down his cheeks and down his neck as you work him over, stroking the velvet skin as you watch him fall apart. He shakes under your touch, twitching when you run your thumb along the vein on the underside of his shaft.

You want to make him feel the way you did under his touch, pressing sweet kisses to his neck and shoulders as you move closer to him. His cock stands between your bodies, trapped as you run your hand on it over and over again. Nothing feels more right than meeting his mouth as he moans, stifling his sounds of pleasure with hungry kisses as you run your hand down his shaft and to his balls.

You almost couldn’t stop yourself from bending over, his weeping tip meeting your mouth. You swirl your tongue over the slit on his tip, fitting him deeper and deeper into your mouth until you’re choking on it. A gentle tug on your hair brings up back up to him, his way of urging you to kiss him more as you continue stroking him. His larger hands fit over yours as you work on bringing him to his climax. You press your lips to the column of his neck, the base, his Adam’s apple, and right below his jawline. It forms a pattern, one that you don’t want to stop making, one that you could repeat forever.

And he comes undone.

He sobs your name, letting his head fall to your shoulder as you continue stroking, loosening your grip as he cums, the force of it wreaking havoc throughout his body. He bites your shoulder to stop himself from crying out louder, moans still escaping him as he thrusted slowly into your palm.

Bruce collapses you completely, bringing both of you down as you wrap your arms around the broken man. His eyes are shut as he grabs onto you, pulling you closer to him like he can’t bear the thought of losing you.

“I need you,” he whispers, voice breaking as he tries not to reveal his desperation. You run your hands through his soft strands, nails running over his scalp in an attempt to soothe him.

“I know, baby,” you assure him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m all yours.”

Bruce listens to your promises, allowing himself to revel in hope and belief for just a split second. Then he lets go and returns to reality, stalking over to the window and grasping onto the frame.

Gotham looms.

#batman #battinson #batman smut #bruce wayne #bruce wayne smut #bruce wayne x reader #smut #fic #reader insert #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x f!reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #my writing

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bokutizer · 2 years ago

Text

Cold hands, warm heart

includes : thoma, arataki itto, kaeya alberich summary : no matter the circumstances, he'll always be there to warm you up tags : fluff, comfort, sick!reader (kaeya's part)

T h o m a

You liked Ayaka, you really did. However right now, as you walked back to the Kamisato Estate, chilled to the bone, the snow underneath your feet soaking your socks, fingers frozen and feeling immobile while you carried the newest winter collection from the Ogura Textiles & Kimonos which she had ordered, you could not help yourself but wish your dear lady to catch a light cold. Simply for your own satisfaction, you know?

Once you finally reached the estate and entered the hallway, your face and hands started tingling, the warm gust of air hitting the frozen-like parts of your body and making you let out a sigh of relief as you set the newly bought goods to the side.

"Oh, hey there! You're back already?" Thoma exclaimed as you noticed him standing in the kitchen, a cloth in his hand while he dried a few clean dishes which you assumed must have had remained from dinner.

You hummed tiredly and watched him dry his hands quickly before walking around the counter to step in front of you, the comfortable warmth of his palms seeping through your skin as he placed them on your cheeks. A light gasp escaped his mouth at the cold touch. "Sweetheart, you're freezing."

"Well, it's winter, isn't it?" you said sheepishly, earning yourself a sympathetic smile from the blonde as his thumbs kept rubbing gently along your apple cheeks.

"Come on, go and get changed, I'll make you some tea." Thoma's suggestion was followed with a kiss on your nose, his soft lips meeting its cold tip. Nonetheless, your tender moment was interrupted by a not so quiet sneeze that sounded quite familiar.

Thoma must have noticed your confused look and explained, "Oh, her lady's been feeling a bit off today. She must have caught a cold."

Oh.

I t t o

"Itto-"

"No! Don't-Don't say it! Please!" the oni begged you, the pout on his face combined with his long soaked hair only adding further to his drenched-oversized-puppy look.

Why soaked and drenched you would ask? In short, your dear oni boyfriend had been overly excited to join another beetle battle and had been in need of a new Onikabuto. But despite Shinobu's and your warnings that a storm had been predicted for the day, the stubborn and determined oni had not listened and stormed off. Why you had joined him in his search, knowing very well what might await you? Probably because your love for this man-child has made you insane.

And so here you were standing in this humid cave, both soaked to the bone and waiting for the heavy downpour to finally cease.

"-we told you so." you sighed, finishing your sentence at which Itto dramatically held his hand against his chest, head thrown back and eyes tightly shut, displaying his exaggerated emotional pain at your accusatory words. Yet, his eyes immediately snapped open at the sudden contact your arm made with his.

The storm was getting stronger now, your wet clothes acting like a magnet to the cold the wind provided. "'S so damn cold." you hissed through your clattering teeth, shuffling from one foot to another and hoping that those little movements would help to warm you up. They did not.

"Oh! C'mere then, pretty babe." with his hand around your wrist, he swiftly pulled your body against his chest, the arms around your waist leaving you nearly breathless as he pressed you closer against him.

"There. Better?" he grinned, the smug undertone in his voice not bothering you the slightest as you were way too busy nuzzling your face further against his warm skin. "Archons, why are you so cute?!"

K A E Y A

You promised yourself to never accept a commission again that's located on Dragonspine. Never ever again. Because now you were glued to your bed, body drained from its energy, your throat and limbs aching. "With a bit of rest and the right herbs, you'll definitely feel better in a few days." you recalled Barbara's kind voice as she had reassured you.

And here you were, those mentioned few days later, layers of blankets covering your body and yet you were still feeling as cold as on the first day after your trip to that cursed mountain.

"Good morning, sleepy head! Oh, wait. It's already evening." Kaeya barged into your shared bedroom, the usual teasing smirk curving his mouth. "How does it feel to loaf around while your handsome lover had to do all your paperwork for you?"

"As empathetic as always, Mr. Alberich." you croaked out, summoning the little strength you had left to roll your eyes in annoyance.

After having discarded his jacket and set his sword to the side, Kaeya approached the bed, his first reflex being to check your temperature. Yet his playful demeanour was quickly put aside when the skin underneath his palm still felt too warm for his liking. "You're hot."

"Please, you're flattering me." you mumbled with a smile on your face, droopy eyes making you look as if you were in a delirious-like state.

"I'm serious, darling."

"I'm fine." you sighed deeply and grabbed his wrist, your grip feeling anything but firm, Kaeya remarked. "Now could you please join me? I'm freezing."

Who was he to deny you when you looked at him with those pretty glassy eyes? In no time, he slipped beside you under the covers, chuckling lightly as you immediately clung to his body, seeking his body warmth. With an arm flung over your waist, he held you close against him, his grip on you tightening at every occasional jolt the chill would force upon your muscles.

#genshin impact thoma #genshin thoma #thoma x reader #thoma fluff #thoma x y/n #thoma scenarios #arataki itto #arataki itto x reader #genshin itto #itto scenarios #itto fluff #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons

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swampstew · 2 years ago

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Truth or Dare

Summary: Eustass Kid was obsessed with the new Witch on his ship under his custody, and the feeling was mutual. As the two flirt between the lines of frenemies and associates, Killer suggests a game. What could go wrong? Will they choose Truth and admit their feelings, or will they choose Dare and engage in reckless activities? Scene from my OP Fanfiction - edited so it can be read as a self insert. Let me know if you like it and want me to pull/edit the other book smut scenes.

WC: 3.6K CW: 18+; NSFW; sex under the influence but consented to; alcohol consumption; oral sex; penetration - PIV; AFAB reader x Eustass Kid

M!n0rs DNI! You will be blocked

Kid watched them all partying, a cheeky grin on his face. The crew kept singing until the song ended; crowd and band dispersed to get more liquor. Killer swayed over to Kid; the man always got a little too sassy when he had too much to drink. “You gonna join in on the fun, Captain?”

“I’m fine where I am.”

“You never let loose. Even before the Witch joined us. We’ve made it to the New World Kid, try to enjoy yourself a little.”

He sighed, draining his glass. “What do you suggest I do then?”

Killer clasped his hands together before separating them slowly, “let’s play a game.” Kid rolled his eyes. “Let’s play truth or dare,” the tone in his voice irked Kid.

“And why the fuck would we do that?”

“Because its fuuuuuuuun.”

“We’re not children we’re pirates you drunk.”

“I’m trying to help you, idiot.”

“And do tell how exactly this helps.”

“Well for one, it builds morale amongst your crew. For two, playing this game with (Y/N) will either mean she tells us more about herself, orrrrr,” he giggled, “or she can be dared to do things.”

Kid narrowed his eyes, “We’re not making her do anything weird.”

Killer shook his head vigorously. “Noooo nothing weird but like say I dared her to kiss you in front of all of us.”

“I can fucking kiss her whenever I want without you bitches watching as an audience. Also weren’t you the one who told me to keep my dick away from her?”

Killer nodded, “Yeah but it’s also very obvious how into her you are. Also, I see the way she eye-fucks you when you’re not looking. She waaaants you,” he teased.

Kid turned as red as his hair, “Sh-SHUT UP!” He stomped to the barrel, filling his glass once more.

Killer grabbed the microphone and announced the game, the pirates all whooped and cheered. Groaning, Kid covered his face. (Y/N) was laughing, mixed in with some of the men, she appeared to have grown used to the strong drink as she lapped it up. She walked to the barrel to refill her glass. “You gonna play too?” Kid asked.

“I’ve never played so yes,” she giggled, taking a small sip. Kid groaned again, “I’m gonna kill Killer.” She laughed, tugging on his coat, she led him to the deck where the crew started taking seats on the ground in a large circle. Killer stood in the middle, waiting for everyone to pay attention to him. He quickly explained the rules and began the game.

“Heat – truth or dare.”

“Uhhh truth.”

“Okay, tell us, how the FUCK are you able to breathe fire?”

Heat began to blush, eyes downcast. After a minute, he closed his eyes and said, “when I was a kid, I stole a pepper from this farmer, there was some type of festival going on, I don’t remember. I was starving and it was huge. I ate it, and it was the hottest goddamn thing that I have ever had in my mouth. I swallowed it and I remember steam escaping out of my nose and ears. I cried out for water, but instead of words, fire came out, and I accidentally burned down the event. I’ve been able to breathe fire ever since,” the man shoved a hand through his hair until it fell over half his face.

“Hahaha that’s awesome!” Kid exclaimed, laughing. Heat blushed even more, red coloring up his pale complexion. Killer called him to the middle, it was his turn to pick a victim. The game wore on for several minutes before a crew member picked on the Witch.

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

Everyone oooooh’d, Kid narrowed his eyes. “Have you ever regretted killing anyone?”

(Y/N) brought a hand to her chin, musing for a moment. “No. Every person I’ve killed has deserved it. I do regret torturing sailors when I was on Thriller Bark because I was forced into doing so by Gecko Moira. But as far as people I’ve killed, every person has been an enemy of the Straw Hats or was a Marine. So no, I don’t have any regrets about those I’ve killed.” The crew nodded in approval and Kid lifted his drink to her, taking a swig. Taking one herself, she got up in the center, looking for her victim. Her eyes zeroed in on Kid, and he internally winced.

“Truth or Dare Kid.”

“Dare, obviously”

“Hmmmm, I dare you to…..make me my own fur coat, yours is hella cozy.”

Killer popped up, “I made the coat! He can’t sew for shit, so I’ll do it. Do a new Dare!” Kid snarled at him, but (Y/N) was laughing.

“Ok ok ok. Kid, I dare you to…say one nice thing to each of your crew.” Kid groaned out loud, but the men started cheering him on. Getting up, he walked up to each man and gave them a compliment. He hated every minute of it, but he did have a sense of relief, seeing his men beaming at him for each compliment he gave out. That wasn’t too bad, he thought. As he went back to his seat, Killer pointed at the center stage. Groaning again, Kid stood in the middle, draining his drink.

“(Y/N) Truth or Dare.”

“What?! I was just up there!”

“Do it” the crew chanted.

“Fine Dare.”

The redhead smirked, “I dare you to be my drink wench for the rest of the night. I need a refill now,” he let his glass dangle on his pinky. She rolled her eyes, walking up and taking his glass, refilling it. The crew and Witch played many rounds of the game, she dutifully refilled Kid’s glass at least three more times before she was called on again.

“Truth or Dare?” called out a pirated named Boogie.

“Dare”

“I dare you to give us a show, sing for us!” the crew began banging hands on the deck.

To her credit, (Y/N) put on a show, clearly enjoying singing, her voice was playful as she changed her tone and pitch during the first few songs. Sometimes she sang with a husky voice, evoking a sense of lustiness during the songs. She danced along the beat shaking her hips, Kid ate her up with his eyes. She met his eyes during a verse, singing:

You and your museum of lovers The precious collection you've housed in your covers My simpleness threatened by my own admission And the bags are much too heavy In my insecure condition My pregnant mind is fat full with envy again

Her voice sounded lusty; Kid’s mouth was drier than a desert island. She spun around dancing on stage, continuing the song, the crew cheering and whooping. She locked eyes with him again as she sang on:

But I still love to wash in your old bathwater You make me feel like I couldn't love another I can't help it you’re my kind of man Why do the good girls always want the bad boys

She winked playfully at him as she sang that line. He was losing his grip. Smirking at her, he held up his empty cup. As the song ended, he told Killer to take over the set, (Y/N) made her way to him and refilled their glasses. “You’re not a bad singer,” he nodded at her.

“Aww I’m glad I finally got my compliment,” she giggled at him. He looked at her confused for a moment.

“Your dare was to compliment everyone on my crew – or are you considering yourself one of us now?” he smirked. She opened her mouth to retort, but then closed it again, realizing his words.

“Fair enough” she shrugged.

“I was serious though, didn’t expect that from you.”

“I’m full of wonderful surprises.”

“I look forward to discovering them all,” he responded, taking another large swig. They both blushed at his words. “You look good in red,” he spoke into the glass. It was the truth, the halter top she wore made his eyes zero in on her breasts, her ass looked amazing in the leather pants. Flipping her hair off to the side, she thanked him, cheeks fully flushed. She took another sip of her rum when he looked into her eyes. “Truth or Dare?”

(Y/N) gulped, “we’re still playing?”

“I am.”

“Truth.”

“Who is the most attractive person on this ship?”

“Easy, me.” Kid rolled his eyes at her.

“Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to take me somewhere nice.”

“Right now?”

“Surprise me.”

He closed his eyes thinking. “Ok, it won’t be now then. Truth or Dare?”

(Y/N) drained her glass, “Dare.”

“I dare you to do the first thing that pops into your mind right now.” She hiccupped, eyes growing wide.

“I-I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Her face and neck turned red, “I just can’t.” He looked her over before taking her to the rum barrels, topping of their glasses one last time. Kid looked back, his crew were entirely engrossed in the show Killer was putting on, so he grabbed (Y/N)'s hand and led her to the Crow’s Nest, which was thankfully empty. He let her climb up first, he wanted the excuse to look at her ass as she shimmied up the ladder. They shut the door behind them and they sat together on the red velvet bench.

“Is this better?” She nodded shyly, eyes on the floor. “Ok then, you have a Dare to fulfill.” She took a tiny sip of her drink before putting the glass down on the floor. Kid held on to his glass with a death grip. He watched as she took a deep breath in and exhaled. “You don’t have to be so nervous around me,” he snickered.

“Shut up!” she cried, twisting her hair. She dropped the strand, putting all her weight on her hands that had gripped the seat, she leaned forward and kissed Kid, pressing her soft lips against his. He kissed her back, licking her lower lip with his tongue, he parted her lips and explored her mouth. They made out for a few minutes before she pulled back, lightly panting, she pulled up her glass and took another swig. Looking back at him, his lipstick was smeared slightly, and she wiped her face with the back of her hand, noting the stains that came off on her hand. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“How often do you sleep around?” she asked shyly. Kid blinked.

“Uhm, I don’t exactly keep track. If the mood strikes, I might act on it. I don’t always though. Why?”

“Just playing the game,” she muttered.

“Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Are you single?” he took a drink.

“Yes.” She took a drink as well. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Tell me the truth, what do you think of me?”

Kid took a breath, “I don’t know what to make of you sometimes. You’re talented, strong, and fucking gorgeous, but sometimes you’re completely antisocial and I’m left wondering if you even like being here.”

“I don’t hate being here, but I do miss my crew. They were my friends and we got forced apart in the most violent of ways. I miss our adventures and all, but I know that we all must get stronger if we’re going to survive the New World. I like your crew; heh I even like you. Just trying to make sure I stay in my lane.”

“Truth or Dare?”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, draining her glass. “God how are we still playing this game? Dare.”

His eyes were dark, “I dare you to kiss me again.”

She let out a tiny gasp, turning red again. “I don’t know about th—” he cut her off.

“You chose dare, now face the consequences.”

She let out a whine, standing up and pacing. He leaned back against the bench, legs spread open, arms hanging on the back. Maybe the liquor had finally gone to his head, or maybe he was just desperate to see what she would do, but he was not backing down from this. Finally, she took a tentative step towards him, then another, finally walking up straight to him. She sat on his thigh and leaned in, kissing him again, she took one arm and hooked it around his neck and used her other hand to trail her fingers over his muscular arms and chest. Kid angled his head so he could deepen the kiss, his hand was still holding his glass. He tossed it across the room and gripped (Y/N)'s waist, pulling her legs over so she was straddling his hips.

As they continued kissing, his hands trailed over her body, lightly touching her; she did the same to him, both hands tracing the lines of his abs and pecs. He brought a hand down, cupping her ass, and she sighed into him. “More,” she whispered. He took his other hand and squeezed her breast. His tongue darted in and out of her mouth as she began panting. She could feel him hardening underneath her and she made no motions to get off. She pressed her pelvis down against him, earning a growl from the large man, who moved his head and bit down on her neck. She let out a small shriek. He bit down again, licking the tender spot. He finally let go and pulled back from her, his lipstick had stained her neck and jaw.

“Take your top off,” he commanded. She did as she was told, and he watched her large breasts bounce freely when the top was thrown off. He had one hand still on her waist, and he gripped her tightly, enjoying the way his hands looked digging into her flesh. He pulled her forward, taking one breast into his mouth as he sucked on her nipple, pinching, and teasing the other with his free hand. She let out tiny gasps and pants that drove him wild, biting and sucking more intensely. She began to ground her pelvis on his erection, and he growled at her, eyes closing at the sensation as it gripped his body. He let her do this a few times before picking her up and pushing her in his former position. Now that she was seated, he leaned her backwards and began tugging her pants off.

Underneath she wore a pair of maroon panties that hugged her ass cheeks. His fingers dug into the materials, softly rubbing her at her entrance. Her panting was louder now, she even gave off a few delicious sounding moans, the material quickly soaking under his touch. He let out a guttural growl as he pushed the material aside and licked up her slit, her juices flowed freely on his tongue as he lapped her up. His tongue was restless, dragging along her clitoris when he trailed upwards, and thrusting inside her core when he travelled downwards. Her moaning become insistent and louder, her fingers scraping against his scalp as she tugged on his hair, trying to pull him closer inside of her. He continued with tonguing her delicious pussy. He began to feel her walls clenching on him, and he pulled his tongue out, replacing it with his fingers.

He pumped two of them in and out of her, his mouth finding her nipple again, he sucked on that while he fingered her quickly. It didn’t take long for her to orgasm, her walls clenched over his fingers and he felt her pulsate as the orgasm washed over her. She let out a wail of moans as she rutted against his fingers. When she was done, he pulled his fingers out of her pussy and into her mouth. She lapped herself up, and his mouth found hers, tongue fighting against hers to take back some of her taste to his mouth. (Y/N)’s fingers started tugging on his pants, and wasting no time, he yanked them down to his ankles.

His cock sprang forward, no longer being held down by constraints, and she eyed it hungrily. He was massive, and she gulped, wondering if he would even fit inside her. She ran her fingers over his tip, slowly running them down his length, his cock bobbed from the contact, his hips lightly thrusted forward. She gripped him and began to slowly pump him, her eyes locked on to his cock not letting it leave her sight. She leaned forward and took him in her mouth and he gasped, enjoying the feeling of her hot little mouth on his tip. He thrusted in her, burying himself down her throat as she ran her tongue on his underside. She took him in and out, her hand palming his base as she lowered her lips to meet her hand and then pull back. The sensation made his legs feel like jelly, but Kid stood there taking it, watching the Witch take him with her mouth as he growled in pleasure.

He let (Y/N) have her way with him before he pulled out, pumping himself a few times, he lowered his body down, looking in her eyes. “Please, I need you,” she whispered to him, irises blown up, lust in her voice. He nodded and he pulled her forward by her hips. He lined his cock up to her entrance and he entered her slowly. He gasped at the sensation, her wetness let him slide in with ease and he could feel her pussy stretching around his cock, allowing him in deeper. Kid was no stranger to sex but this was different. He felt fucking fantastic as he watched his cock slowly slide into (Y/N), her face was scrunched up in pleasure, moaning as he slid his cock deeper inside her, inch by delicious inch. He was dumbstruck, impressed with her ability to take him in completely, his length disappearing into her tight hole. He let out his own pants and groans, his cock stuffed inside her, his balls began to lightly slap against her ass as he began thrusting in and out of her, at a comfortable pace for them both.

(Y/N)'s eyes were half closed, hands gripping his shoulders as he continued rutting against her. She let out tiny pleas of “yes, more, faster” as he followed her wishes. He could feel her orgasm building as his tip rubbed against a spongey spot inside of her and that was when she got wild. She let out little screams of pleasure as he rubbed against the spot, nails digging into his shoulder and back. He started thrusting faster, her walls clenching his cock as he moved in and out. He started losing rhythm as his thrusting became bucking into her. He could feel his cock hitting her cervix as it bounced off, but he couldn’t stop. “Fuck fuck I’m gonna come,” she cried into his chest.

“Yes (Y/N), come for me. Cream all over my cock - I want to shoot a load in you,” he panted over her. That made her wail yes over and over as her orgasm rocked her. She clenched her pussy around his cock as the waves crashed over her, biting his neck, squealing into him, she shuddered throughout it. That made him drive straight off the edge, he felt the heat buildup in his tip and then he was coming inside of her, letting out a primal groan. He overfilled her, cum dripping out as he kept thrusting into her, pooling into a puddle on the floor, beads soaking into the bench fabric. She tightened her hold on him, legs wrapped around his waist as she let out a final cry of pleasure, resting her head against his heaving chest. He rutted against her a few more times, catching his breath, finished spilling his seed inside of her, he stilled holding her body against his tightly. He breathed into her hair, closing his eyes trying to steady his heart. She held on equally as tightly. His cock began to soften and he pulled out. Before he could pull his pants up, she gripped his cock. Without a word, she lapped up their combined juices off his length, her tongue flicking his slit, she licked it clean, finally letting go. He pulled his pants up. She quickly pulled on her own clothes.

They both collapsed into the bench, his arm around her shoulder, both heads laying against the headrest as they steadied their breathing. They sat in silence for a while before Kid lifted his head, “I wonder if they’re still out there.” (Y/N) shrugged, not moving. Turning his face to hers, he kissed her again. “I wasn’t expecting the night to end like this, but I’m glad nonetheless,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her cheek trailing it down to her lips. She nodded against him, sucked in his bottom lip between her own, not wanting to let go. He chuckled against her, thumbing her cheek. “Don’t get greedy, we have plenty of time together.” She huffed at him and he chuckled again, he wasn’t used to her acting this cute.

They spent time together in the Crow’s Nest talking for a few hours, waiting for the last pirate to clear from the deck before they climbed down the hatch. He dropped her off at her door, giving her a goodnight kiss, well embrace since she wrapped her arms around his neck. Kid was left wanting more as she closed the door, but he had a feeling that if he didn’t go to his room, he might never leave her side again. He headed towards his cabin, before he could enter, he saw Killer pop his head out of his room, giving him a thumbs up/down motion. Kid rolled his eyes and gave Killer his middle finger, slamming his door shut.

~ TO BE CONTINUED ~

#swampstew #swampstew stories #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #eustass kid x you #one piece eustass kid #eustass kid x reader #one piece kid #eustass kid x y/n #op kid #what's the magic word?#reimagined #eustass kid smut #op smut

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todoshotoroki · 3 years ago

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𝒮𝒶𝓎 𝒾𝓉, 𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎

Warnings: smut, cockwarming, edging, smudge of angst, mentions of Bakugou, f reader x jealous Todoroki.〤 Minors DNI Word count: 2.4k

It wasn't fair. This wasn't at all fair, and it wasn't your fault either. At least you didn't think you did anything wrong. You didn't expect for your usually soft-spoken, gentle boyfriend to be so upset with you the second you walked into your dorm. He was unusually quiet, more so than normal. When you had sat down next to him on the bed, you lay a gentle hand on his shoulder with a concerned frown. “Sho? Are you alright?” His eyes were covered from his bangs, the hand you placed on his shoulder coming up to gently scoop them out of his eyes, only then did he look up at you.

“No. Not really” He admitted coldly, his eyebrows furrowing as his hand found its place on your calf, his warm fingers slowly trailing down to grip your ankle. To be honest, you should have seen it coming when he yanked your leg, pulling you over into his lap. To say the sudden position flustered you was a bit of an understatement, but you were still concerned about your boyfriends sour expression. And you had yet to get an explanation. “What's wrong? Tell me?”

You squirmed to get more comfortable in his lap, your hands now settled on his shoulders. Shoto sighed, as if in disappointment, and his own fingers curled around your waist, gently but firmly grasping your hips. “How do you not know, darling?” His voice was quiet, but stern as one hot, one cold hand slowly drifted downwards, slipping under your skirt and tracing the line of your lace panties.

As much as you tried to focus on what you could have done to emit such a reaction from your boyfriend, it was clear to you now that his intentions were not so innocent. “After all, it’s all your fault.” He admitted, though his eyes weren't looking at you as he leaned up against the pillows on the bed. He was watching as his hand drifted to the front of your skirt, flipping it up over your hips. A small, content sigh fell past his lips and his eyebrows furrowed as he got a good look at the cute lace adorning your skin. You were just so pretty.

“Let me” His whispered, his fingers already curling to pull your panties to the side. Todoroki couldn't help but bite the inside of his cheek to conceal the groan bubbling in his chest at the sight of your bare cunt leaving a wet spot on his sweatpants.

You let out a shaky breath, gripping his shoulders tighter as the hands on your hips began to rock your waist against his. You released a quiet moan as you felt the pressure of his hard cock through his pants, leaning forward, you rested your chin against his shoulder. “What did I do? Sho-” His name leaving your mouth ended in a moan as you ground your hips into his, desperately seeking more friction.

Too bad his hands tightened around your waist to pause your movements, as if you had suddenly reminded him of how angry he was supposed to be at you.

“I should punish you” He responded, completely ignoring your question. You almost weren't sure if he had heard you correctly, but the fingernails digging into your waist said otherwise. Well, you definitely heard him, and his uncharacteristically demanding tone set every part of your body ablaze. Before you were given the time to respond, he flipped you around in his lap, cherishing the small ‘oomph-’ that left your lips in the process.

“P-punish me?”

Luckily, now that you were not facing him, he could give the faintest hint of a smile behind his smirking.

“Don't be afraid honey, I could never be mean to you” Although his tone was laced with kindness and warmth, underlying his voice was a condescending double standard, one that sent a shiver up your spine as he pulled your back flush against his chest. “Up” His hot breath fanned across the back of your neck, making the rest of your body rise with goosebumps.

You lifted your hips, and he tauntingly pulled your panties down your legs, teasingly tracing them across your skin to bring them back up. “Good girl” You could hear the smile in his voice as he purred, making your cheeks redder then they already were. He set his hands back down on your hips. “Oh. though, you haven't been very good today I suppose”

You squirmed in his lap, frowning at the reminder that there's something you did to deserve this. Even more now, did you want to find out. You had never seen Shoto like this before, so teasing. He was always such a giver when it came to sexual activities. “I’m sorry Sho, whatever I did I'm sorry” Your voice was already running out of breath. How pathetic.

“Oh? And what exactly did you do, Y/n? Do you even know?” As you shifted your hips once more, Todoroki's hand slipped between the two of you, his fingers tightly gripping his sweatpants and boxers and pulling them down enough for his hard cock to slap between your plush thighs. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his naked skin against your own, even if both of you were still technically still clothed. “I don't.. Please, tell me” You asked quietly.

Todoroki hummed, his fingers unbuttoning the shirt of your school uniform expertly as he pondered his response. “No. Figure it out yourself” He demanded, pulling your shirt down your sides and tossing it across the room. You frowned, biting your tongue as your face creased thoughtfully, distractedly.

You could barely even remember what you did today, with how his warm hand inched closer to your clit like that.

“This isn’t fair” You protested, gripping onto the arm he had circled around your waist to keep your backside flush with his chest. You leaned your head onto his shoulder, getting the perfect view of his jawline. “I think it's fair” He responded, his fingers reaching between the two of you, gripping onto his cock to align the tip with your clit.

You could feel the tip of Shoto’s hard cock pulsing against your clit, and the way you instinctively ground your hips against his made the rest of his cock wet with your juices. Your boyfriend could act tough all he wanted, but the way his eyes were fixated on the sight between you and the small gasp that left his lips were telltale signs of how much he was truly enjoying his time teasing you.

Apparently you had been caught staring, because you were met with heterochromia eyes and flushed cheeks looking right back at you. The teasing smile that graced his lips made you want to get on your knees thank whatever god put you in this position. “Enjoying yourself?” He whispered, tilting his head forward to press his lips against yours, pulling away just enough to give you room to respond. “Yes” You admitted quietly, pressing your lips to his.

His lips were so soft, and his tongue grazed your bottom lip. As soon as you opened your mouth to give him entry, he pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours with a suddenly serious, stern, cold glare. “You shouldn't be” The arm he tightened around your waist lifted your hips, suddenly aligning his cock and swiftly piercing himself into you. Both of you let out a gasp of ecstasy, Todoroki’s hands tightening on your hips.

“A-Ah, Sho- Shoto- ohh” Your eyelids fluttered shut, and your nails dug into the milky skin of his thighs beneath you in an attempt to ground yourself. Only he could make you feel so lightheaded and cloudy so quickly. His hot panting on the back of your neck caused a ripple to shudder through your body, your back slightly arching off his chest. He was quick to ground you, pulling you back against him before you could move. “No, stay, baby” He demanded softly against the crook of your neck.

Your insides felt like something Shoto Todoroki would never be able to experience with anybody but you. Nobody could light a flame inside his stomach like you did, you provided a warmth that he never had growing up, and one he would never find with his friends, despite how he appreciated them. They still weren't you.

“M-move Shoto, please” You quiet begs were met with nothing but silence. You pressed your back further into his chest, tilting your head to nuzzle at his jawline. Delicately placing kisses wherever you see fit. Todoroki had his eyes closed, but the labored breaths and the redness of his cheeks were enough to convey his emotions. “Please, please, fuck me already Sho”

Finally, he provided a response. “Fucking is a reward, and you haven't been good”

You fucked up. Whatever you did, it was a fuck up.

You could do no harm in Shoto Todoroki’s eyes, your classmates claimed you could run away with the league of villains and he would still be waiting on his knees for you to come back with open arms.

But he had never used this as a punishment, nor had fucking ever been a reward before. He was always soft when making love with you.

Your kisses slowly ceased, releasing shaky, uneven breaths against the underside of his jaw. That, mixed with the warmness of being nestled deep inside of your cunt, was almost enough for him to cum if he basked in it long enough. Though, he knew he’d be able to hold off. After all, he still couldn't get the picture of you with him out of his goddamn head.

“T-Todo, but I want you to..” Your words trailed off with a needy whine as your lover placed warm kisses along your cheek, then one more on your lips.

“Tell me what you did wrong, then you can apologize for it”

Fuck. Your eyes darted around the room, trying to catch a glimpse of something to jog your memory. Then, your eyes landed on the orange notebook sitting on your desk.

Bakugou. He was jealous of your study session with Katsuki Bakugou.

“You.. mean, Bakugou-”

“Bakugou?” Todoroki’s voice was laced with stone cold venom. His fingernails creased crescent shaped marks into your skin, causing you to grit your teeth and look up at him with wide eyes. “Don't you mean your precious friend Kacchan?” He practically growled in your ear, and you could feel the heat of his left hand rising as it pressed into your hip, your body freezing cold on the other side from his tight grip.

Oh. You DID call Bakugou by his childhood nickname.

You opened your mouth to reply and explain yourself, tell him that you did that to mock the nickname, but your voice was at a loss and suddenly failing you. You didn't need to speak though, because Shoto quickly filled the quietness by growling into your ear once more. “Your lucky I don't bend you over the bed and really punish you, since you want to be such a brat”

He meant it, you could hear it in the coldness of his voice.

He leaned back, shoving you to sit upright in his lap and lying down on his back against the plush comforter. His hands gripped the base of your hips, and you leaned forward, gripping Todoroki’s pale, soft thighs for support. “Don't you have anything to say? Don't you want to apologize to me?”

His words fell on deaf ears as he finally, finally fucking rolled his hips into yours with a long, meaningful thrust. “Oh-oh fuck- just like that Sho” You leaned your head back, giving into a beautiful arch as Todoroki groaned at the feeling of you tightening around him.

“Oh? Mmph- You mean like this?”

He gave another hard, sensual thrust that kissed your cervix, making your legs feel like jello on each side of his hips. It was magical, the way his cock brushed against the walls of your insides with each savored stroke.

“Turn around baby, look at me” You scrambled to do as you were told, to make sure you were good for him. You adjusted yourself in his lap, sinking back down onto his cock as he propped both his knees up behind you for leverage. He had unbuttoned his shirt at some point, giving you access to his toned chest underneath your fingertips.

Slowly, you began to grind your hips into his, relishing in the surprised facial expression that flew across his face at the sudden movement. “Shoo, I want you, so bad” Your eyes were watery as you pleaded with him, your desperate cunt needily sucking his cock into your plush walls. Though his tightening hold refrained anymore of your movements.

“Say it Y/n” His tone was desperate, and his eyes were quick to portray how much he actually needed your reassurance. “Tell me your sorry. That he can't love you like I do” His eyes were half-lidded, glossy as they stared up at you.

Your heart sliced in half at making Todoroki feel even comparable to your explosive classmate, and you leaned forward to hover over him. As if it was instinct, his hands rested along the curve of your ass, one reaching down to brush his fingertips across your clit, ghosting over the spot where his cock was currently impaling you. “Never, never Sho, he’ll never even be able to compete, I swear.” You admitted, peppering needy kisses along his jawline.

“I'm sorry Shoto, I'm so sorry I made you feel that way baby” You could tell he was soaking up every word, his eyes fluttering open to look up at you every time you finished your sentence, watching you in hopes that you'd only speak more. “I love you so much, so much Sho” You leaned your forehead against his, your eyes glimmering as your lips ghosted over his. “Please forgive me Shoto, he can’t love me, can’t fuck me like you can, just please”

“Yeah, he can't” Hearing you beg for his forgiveness must have been his breaking point, because his hips lifted up off the bed just enough to move himself inside of you, a small moan falling past his swollen lips. “I love you baby” He responded, his arms coming up to circle around your waist, in the process giving him the best angle to pull his cock out, only to thrust it back into your hot mess.

Just when you thought your night had finally begun, Todoroki had to pause just one more time, and whisper one more dirty little command in your ear.

“Oh, and I may be fucking you now” His words were slightly muffled as his teeth nibbled along your bottom lip.

“But don't you dare think about cumming tonight”

𝐼𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒: “𝒪𝓃𝓁𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹”

𝑂𝑟 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ♡

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ukai-simp-services · 4 years ago

Text

your hq s/o walking in on you masturbating

includes: kenma, oikawa, ukai, kuroo

warnings: heavy smut, cursing, nsfw; degrading, praising, edging, teasing.

a/n: god this took so long for me to write, i hope y’all enjoy. i worked very hard on each character so be sure to read em all ;)

(female character descriptions)

kenma kozume

you sat with your legs criss-crossed on the plush comforter of your bed - your shared bed with your boyfriend. kenma was rarely ever away from you, his job required him to sit at home by his desk most days, trying out different video game graphics, typing up notes or ideas after trying said game. It wasn’t very often that his company called him in for a meeting, maybe once every few weeks.

alas, you still found yourself sitting here, alone on your giant bed, wondering what you’d do with your time. you came home, hours prior, yearning for your comfortable bed after a long day at work. and you certainly relished in those desires, taking a much-needed nap for a couple of hours. but now here you were, brightly awake, with an unusual warmth of desire in your stomach. you were unsure where the urge came from, considering your boyfriend wasn’t even home to tempt you. but it was still there, and it needed to be satiated.

so you began your mission, it had been quite a number of months since you last masturbated on your own. your lovely kenma was always by your side, always there to feed your cravings, masturbation wasn’t even a thought when you knew he was just a room away from you. you almost forgot your usual routine when it came to “doing the deed”.

first, you slipped out of your leggings, feeling the cold, but soft comforter tickle your bare legs. then, you snaked your hand up your stomach to your breast, fondling it as best as you could. funny, it didn't feel nearly as rewarding as it did when kenma did it. lastly, you picked up your phone from its spot next to you and began your search.

you searched a reliable porn site you used to use all the time, quickly finding a video that you knew would get you off quickly. you chewed your bottom lip as the video started, excitement building up from the depths of your core. as the video continued, you snuck your free hand down your stomach to your panties. hesitantly, you creeped your fingers under the elastic band of the soft cotton material and reached slowly for your folds. you gasped at your wetness, it was nothing remarkable, just a little surprising considering how quick you made this decision. you began stroking your clit, slowly to start, while still keeping your eyes on your screen. as the video continued on, you quickened the pace of your rubbing, swirling your juices around your clit with your two fingers. you didn’t realize how focused you were on your phone screen, till the sound of your bedroom door creaking open snapped you out of your daze.

yellow, cat-like eyes peered at your disheveled state in both shock and curiosity. you opened your mouth to say something, but was only able to let out a struggled mewl. his gaze was locked to your body, taking in your entire form, focused mainly on the hand buried in your panties, taking note of how your hand continued its motions, slowly. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him and he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

a loud, choked moan vibrated from the phone in your hand, snapping both you and kenma out of your trance.

“I-i...” you scrambled for words as you quickly shut off the video and began retracting your hand from your panties.

kenma dashed towards you, animal-like instincts, and snatched your wrist in his grip, slowly putting your hand back in the spot it was formerly in.

“continue.” he said, voice laced with the deep desire you so fortunately get to see in him often. his gaze remained down at your body, instead of looking you in the eye. you simply nodded your head and continued your movements again. taking you by surprise yet again, kenma lifted your phone from your other hand and clicked play on the video again for you.

your cheeks burned in embarrassment, but soon your whole body was flushed from the euphoric feeling rising in your stomach. kenma held your phone up with one hand, watching you masturbate to whatever the hell was on there. he then took his other hand and pulled the cotton material covering your sex to the side, watching your glistening fingers work magic into your clit.

he decided he should help out a little bit, so he poked his warm, firm tongue out of his mouth and penetrated your cunt with it. you gasped at the contact, not expecting it since your eyes were trained on the screen. your movements became spastic as the twisting and curving of his tongue played with your insides wondrously. your body convulsed around his muscle, thighs squeezing and enclosing his head. the video you were watching was quick to end, but you couldn't care as you tossed your phone to the side and grabbed a handful of your boyfriend’s hair.

kenma’s assault on your cunt only became more intense as he felt you reaching your orgasm, walls pulsing around his tongue. you moaned in approval of his actions, bucking your hips for the friction of his nose against your clit. your high came shortly after, leaving you grasping kenma’s hair for dear life.

your chest rose and fell rapidly, waiting for your breathing to normalize again before you spoke. kenma plopped next to you on your bed, automatically snuggling his face into the crook of your neck.

“never leave home ever again.” you breathed out, a smile starting to form on your lips.

he simply just chuckled and said, “sounds like a deal to me.”

oikawa tooru

oikawa constantly had you on your toes, always watching and waiting for something to happen. with this, also came teasing, he was a huge flirt in general, everyone knew that, but when it came to you it was in every way worse.

you stared down at your phone, more specifically, at the text your boyfriend had sent you.

pretty, but you’d look prettier with the dress off and your legs spread for me <3

for context, you had went shopping earlier and sent a picture to oikawa of the new dress you were contemplating buying. of course, he was no help in your decision and only used the photo to helplessly fluster you. you sighed to yourself, guess it couldn't be helped.

but you hated to admit that the text hit you with a swarm of butterflies in the very pit of your stomach - you couldn't help but imagine your boyfriend in between your thighs, pulling the tight dress up your hips rather slow.

of course you had bought it, how could you not after reading that text.

part of you wanted to surprise him in it, let him come home to you laying in your bed with the dress tightly clung to you and a pair of matching high heels strapped on. unfortunately, reality reminded you that tooru would be practicing ‘til late tonight and you knew that all he would want is a warm bed to crash on, barely even making it to the shower.

so instead of bothering your already over-worked boyfriend, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

finishing your dinner alone at around 7pm, you cleaned yourself up and headed for the bedroom. you crawled across the smooth duvet cover on your bed, cold material rubbing against your bare legs. you situated yourself against two plush pillows, propping your torso up while parting your legs.

you pondered for a moment what you should do, it wasn’t an odd occurrence for you to be pleasuring yourself; tooru was out quite frequently because of his busy schedule. your confliction was caused by the fact that you simply wanted tooru, nothing else.

even so, you continued your actions; sliding your soft cotton shorts down your smooth and long legs. once situated, you grabbed your phone and searched for something hot to get you off. because you were feeling so touched starved, videos simply wouldn't do it for you today. you needed something more intimate; like the sound of a man’s voice in your ears, coaxing you to your orgasm, directing you to play with yourself how he wanted.

yeah, that would do it.

so you went to your very reliable (totally not reddit or anything) website and searched for something you knew you would like. a seemingly promising result caught your eye, and you proceeded to plug in your earbuds and adjust the volume of the video. you leaned back further into the pillows, trying to get comfortable enough to relax.

the video began and you couldn’t help but feel awkward, yeah the man’s voice was hot as hell - deep and seductive too, but something about it didn't feel right considering you had a boyfriend, with a much nicer voice.

oh fuck it, you thought.

there was no secret rule against this, it was basically the same as porn, only it felt nicer because the plot was directed towards you and your orgasm. you felt more at ease with yourself - and with the video. the voice playing was smooth and relaxing.

you slowly began to move your fingers as instructed - or should I say demanded, whilst also bringing your left hand up to palm your breast through the thin material of your shirt. you were now working both your clit and your breasts, the feeling of warmth beginning to pool in the pit of your stomach.

the voice commanded you to begin fingering yourself - in his words; to “bury your fingers deep in that little cunt of yours”, and who were you to disobey?

you did exactly as instructed, indulging your fingers deep - well, as deep as they could go - inside the warmth of your core. you received praises from the man, calling you names of which you most certainly enjoyed. this encouraged you pump yourself faster, all while your left hand toyed with your breast through your shirt. surprisingly, your hands made a dream team, you hadn't felt this amazing masturbating in so long. it was like the voice in your ears was real and the hands on your body weren't your own, but someone else’s.

what you failed to realize was, down the hallway from your bedroom, your boyfriend was putting his bags down on the kitchen table and approaching your room - where he heard your soft moans coming from.

tooru wandered over to your bedroom, both curious and confused. the way you were moaning, he wondered if he’d find another man on top of you. he decided to bite back his nerves and enter the room quietly, inching the door open with caution. his head poked through the small gap of the doorway that was now exposed, peering over at your writhing body to see that you were in fact alone. oikawa let out a small sigh of relief at this, but then noticed that you were still unaware of his presence and that your ears occupied a set of wireless earbuds. the man smirked to himself, now somewhat aware of what you were doing.

he cleared his throat obnoxiously, immediately turning your attention over to him and releasing the breast in your hand almost shamefully. you opened your mouth to say something, but tooru quickly cut you off.

“my my, what do we have here?” his voice was low and taunting as he took slow strides over to your bed.

“tooru, i was just-”

“playing with yourself, my dear?” he chuckled and took a seat next to you on the bed, “that much i can see for myself. just to what would that be, is the question.”

your face burned in embarrassment and regret, knowing he would manage to squeeze the answer out of you.

“you- you weren’t home, and i...needed something...”, your voice trailed off as you glanced down at your phone, the audio was paused, but not for long.

oikawa seemed to have caught on to your implications and in one swift movement, snatched both your phone and your right earbud from your possession.

“tooru, please-”

your boyfriend made a tsk tsk noise with his tongue, “nuh uh, what makes you think you get to enjoy this alone? honestly, it looks to me like you’re having a lot of fun-” he gestured to your hand which was deeply buried in your panties, “-and i wanna join in on the fun too.” his voice was low and laced with seduction now, his eyes dark and taunting as his face was merely inches away from yours.

your chest heaved with heavy contractions, stomach full of butterflies and warmth. you could barely muster out a word, so you stuck with a brisk nod. tooru smirked and plugged the earbud in at your approval, then clicked the audio back on.

the audio was halfway finished, so the man’s instructions were even more intense than you wanted oikawa to hear.

“that’s right you little slut, be a good girl and keep fucking that little cunt for me, yeah?”

your eyes widened in embarrassment, quickly scanning tooru’s face for any sign of laughter. what shocked you more was the dark expression on his face now, hidden with a deadly smirk on his lips.

“c’mon baby, do what he’s telling you to do.”

“good girl, that my good little slut.”

the mix of the voices overstimulated your senses, your embarrassment soon turned into a wicked desire. you began pumping yourself harder, hand coming back up to grope you breast. your eyes closed shut and your moans began escalating again.

you weren’t sure what you boyfriend was planning on doing next, but you felt the pressure of the bed go down as he switched spots from next to you to in between your legs.

the audio kept encouraging you to pump faster, enticing more moans to spill from your lips. the feeling of a warm, moist tongue pressing against your clit made your eyes shoot open and your head jerk up to see tooru with his head in between your thighs.

“what? am I not allowed to help?” he quizzed you with a tone laced with teasing.

you let your head fall back onto the pillow as oikawa took his time lapping at your clit. your fingering stuttered, but never ceased as the voice of a man and the tongue of your man continued to pleasure you. the audio was nearing an end and you felt yourself also nearing an orgasm. oikawa pushed your hand so your fingers went even deeper than they already were, this earned a whimpering gasp from you. you looked down at your partner to see his eyes were locked with yours, tongue poking out to lick at your swollen clit. you felt your walls clenching around your fingers at the sight, voice in your ear aiding in it too.

“look at you, so helpless, getting off to some guys’ voice? such a needy little whore, aren't you?”

you felt all the oxygen in your lungs leave your body, fingers growing stiff inside of you. your boyfriend’s words tugged at something inside of you, an animalistic version of you deep down that needed to be freed.

tooru smirked up at you, perfectly aware of his effect on you. his tongue withdrawing from inside his mouth to lap you up for the hundredth time.

“how pathetic, were you that desperate for an orgasm that you resulted to audio porn?”

“good girl, that’s my good little girl, cry out for me.”

you felt your orgasm coming like a tidal wave, the two voices overstimulating your senses once again.

“that’s so fucking embarrassing, your own fingers are barely enough to please you anymore. you need my tongue to help you.”

“that’s right, come for me, come around those pretty little fingers of yours.”

“yeah? you're gonna be an obedient little slut and come for for him? listen to his orders like he’s your daddy, right?”

and you did.

with a final whine of pleasure, your body violently rocked itself through your orgasm. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your back arched into air helplessly. your fingers slowed down on their movements, eventually coming to a slow finish. you breathed heavily, chest heaving as the ringing in your ears quieted down. all that could be heard in the room was the thick silence in the air and your contracted breathing.

tooru slowly approached the spot next to you on the bed from his former position between your legs, lying next to your disheveled form. once your body had calmed itself down a bit more, your retracted your hands from their position and turned toward your lover, resting your head on his shoulder.

“well, I certainly did not expect to come home to that.” tooru chuckled lightly.

you quickly dove your face into the side of his neck, hiding in mortification.

“god, I'm so embarrassed.” you mumbled into his skin.

oikawa only laughed louder, earning a light slap on his arm.

“come on, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every second of that.”

“you know I did, that’s why I'm embarrassed!” you lifted your head from his neck to retort back.

he only shook his head and laughed again, wrapping his arm around your body to keep you warm.

“why did you come home so early, anyway?”

“well practice ended early because the team wanted to go out to dinner for a sort-of, congratulations for doing so good in our last match. that team we went up against was really hard, remember?”

“yes, I do. so why didn't you go!” you suddenly jerked your head up to scold your boyfriend.

“because...I'd much rather be home with you celebrating. besides, I thought that text I sent you was a hint of what I wanted to do with you tonight.” his voice trailed off quietly.

“oh god, I thought you were just being a damn tease like always! that’s why I took matters into my own hands.”

tooru propped himself up on one elbow, facing you.

“c’mon, you know damn well you enjoy my teasing. plus who says we can't go for a round two?” he wiggled his eyebrows at you and gestured at the rising tent under his sweatpants that was nearly poking your leg.

you smirked, looking back up into your boyfriend’s eyes.

“i guess that can be arranged, but it’s my turn to tease, i've had enough of your teasing for one day.”

before he could protest, you were on top of him straddling his waist, hands holding his arms up over his head.

“fine by me.”

ukai keishin

coming home from a long day at work, you plopped down your bags and ran your fingers through your hair. ukai was working the late shift at his convenience store like he usually did on weekdays, and he probably hadn’t eaten anything besides snacks since lunch this noon. your body was tired and sweaty, but you motivated yourself with the idea of a hot shower to keep you up on your feet for a bit longer. as quick as you could, you whipped up a plate of steamed dumplings and rice for you and your fiancé to eat. once satisfied with your work, you left the meal on top of the stove with a glass cover on top to keep it warm.

hot shower hot shower hot shower you chanted to yourself, reminding yourself of your reward for the long day you had. you went to your bedroom first to quickly strip, tossing the restricting clothes away into a hamper. afterwards, you entered your bathroom - now naked, a chill ran over your body. you turned the knob of the shower to the left, far to the left, making the water spring to life and begin to heat up.

after a few moments of waiting for the steamy-hot water to rush out, you took a step into the tub. immediately, your muscles relaxed under the flow of the hot water, your skin burned a little at the sensation too. you sat under the water for a good 30 minutes; lathering your soft skin with foamy body wash, scrubbing at your scalp and rinsing the stress of a long day off your body. the shower was full of steam and the sweet scents of all the soap you used.

you exited the shower after feeling fully clean and content, wrapping a dry towel around your head to hold your drenched hair. you dried your body off with another towel and slipped a soft robe around your form, before approaching your room.

following after brushing through your damp hair, you slid on an over-sized t-shirt from your closet, probably one of ukai’s without realizing. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you walked toward your dresser, you admired the way the t-shirt showed off the shape of your breasts and hugged your hips. you took a step back to appreciate your form a minute more, becoming seemingly more and more confident in your looks by the second. it had clearly been awhile since you felt confident in yourself, your teenage days were over and adulthood was settling into your appearance.

still, for the first time in awhile, you thought you looked damn good.

a flame ignited in your belly, a flame you had not felt in a long time. you usually tended to ignore said flame, because you simply did not have the time to deal with it.

but today was so draining and you had not done this in so long. surely you deserved a reward, right?

yes, yes you did. a hot shower alone simply was not enough of a prize for the type of day you had.

you crawled onto the bed and sat against your pillow, spreading your legs for yourself in front of the mirror across the room. grateful you had not put on underwear yet, you reached down to touch your bare petals. you weren’t wet yet, but it didn't take you long to get there, not with that mirror in front of you.

you watched yourself from the spot on your bed, grabbing your bare breast underneath your shirt as you started rubbing lazy circles around your clit. you found yourself soon more relaxed than not, giving in to your suppressed desires. you began to imagine you weren’t alone on your bed, that your future husband with there with you; crawling in-between your legs. you moaned at the thought, eyes fluttering close in a daze.

you thought about him grabbing you by your thighs, holding on to them as he made out with your sloppy, wet pussy. you imagined the sounds, his vibrating moans, your wet slick being lapped up and sucked on.

your was sex dripping with your cum now, and you watched yourself in the mirror with hooded lids, vividly imaging your husbands head and back facing the ceiling. you could even see the details of his back muscles contracting and relaxing as he continued aggressively devouring you.

your thoughts were paused when you heard the front door open, your eyes widened, but remained glued to the image of your body.

your fingers hadn’t ceased their movements either.

“honey, i'm home” ukai teased in his “i'm-a-loving-husband-who-brings-home-the-bacon” voice. something you both found funny ever since you got engaged.

you made no sound, too afraid you voice would come out in a squeal.

you heard his footsteps go into the living room, before his voice called out again, “baby?”

you decided to play around and not answer again, leaving him no choice but to find you himself. you continued rubbing your clit as you stared at yourself in the mirror, biting your lip to hold back an excited grin. as ukai’s steps got closer to the door, you found yourself indulging a finger into your core. then, one turned into two. and you found yourself having to hold back your moans, as he was so close to entering your room.

a mere second passed before keishin was strolling into your room, looking for his beloved fiancé. he stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes fell on you, two fingers plunged into your pussy, all whilst staring at your reflection in the mirror.

he exhaled through his teeth before saying, “princess, what’s this?”

you tilted your head to the side, gazing at the man before you with half-lidded eyes.

“what does it look like, daddy?” your fingers maintained their rapid pace.

keishin was enthralled with the scene before him - not wanting to move an inch so he could continue watching you, while also wanting to pounce on you like a caged animal.

he decided to just slowly creep over to you, long strides taunting you from your spot on the bed. he kneeled on the mattress, beginning to crawl closer and closer to you. your gazes were locked on each other, all while your fingers kept their assault on your core.

“you look so pretty baby, touching yourself like that in our big ole’ bed.”

you only bit your lip in response, eyes trailing back to the mirror in front of you. keishin followed your glance, now also looking at the reflection of you two.

he scoffed, “what a little slut you are, getting off to yourself in the mirror.”

a shaky breath left your mouth at his words, before he turned to you again and propped himself up on his elbow.

why isn't he doing anything?? you couldn't help but think.

“go on, don't worry about me. I wanna see you keep playing with yourself, just like that.” it was like he read your thoughts.

you became a little frustrated, you were hoping he was going to join in on your “play time”. even so, you persisted, trying to dig deep for an orgasm. you continued staring at the mirror, watching keishin watch you. it was fucking hot - but you needed more.

“ ’shin...” you whined out, tilting your head to look at him.

“what? is my princess having trouble?”

you nodded your head.

he clicked his tongue, “that’s too bad isn't it? my little girl started this herself, now she’s got to be the one to finish it.” he punctuated his words by leaning in closer and closer, his hot breath on your face felt too nice.

you understood what you had to do, cum for him once and then he’d finally join you for a second time, but you were so damn touch starved. it’s one thing to be alone and touch starved, it’s another to be with the person you want to touch you, just for them not to.

you bit down on your lip as you pounded into yourself harder and faster, fingers reaching deep to hit your sweet spot. you tried and tried, but to no avail. your breathing was rigid now, frustration marked on your forehead, all while keishin sat and watched you like a sly motherfucker.

he hadn’t even taken an inch of clothes off, and he wasn't even palming himself through his sweats.

tears of frustration dribbled down your cheeks, there was no warmth in your stomach, no clench to your core, just the cum that dripped down your folds - and that was only from the mindless finger-fucking you were doing.

“poor baby, are your fingers not enough? can they not satisfy you the way my cock can?” keishin’s voice was low and his breath caused goosebumps to rise on your neck and cheek. you leaned into his warm touch as he wiped the tears off your face.

“p-please.” you begged.

“please what? use your words, princess.”

“please- please help me cum.”

keishin laughed in your face, making your cheeks glow a bright red.

“so fucking pathetic, can't even cum with your own fingers. what happened to that tough girl act you had on before, huh? when I caught you playing with your pussy to your reflection in the mirror.”

he leaned in closer, lips barely grazing your ear.

“-where did that little slut go? you’re so desperate now, it’s not even funny.”

a wave of pleasure took over your body, and you finally understood that he was helping you cum, he just didn’t even have to touch you.

“daddy- please...” you begged for more.

“there’s my slut, there she fucking is. i bet you were just waiting for me to come home earlier; you were waiting for your daddy with your cunt wrapped around your little fingers, legs spread - practically begging to be caught.”

you let out a loud moan, core clenching around your fingers as you felt your orgasm approaching. keishin tugged at the fabric of your shirt, before pulling it up to reveal your breasts.

he scoffed, “even wearing my shirt, huh? bet you couldn't wait to stain it with your cum. you dirty little girl, i’ll make you clean up every last drop of yourself with your tongue”

you were already so close, but keishin’s words and the way he pinched your erect nipple with his thumb and middle finger - really pushed you to the edge.

“cum, cum for me you fucking whore.”

with one final drawn out moan, you came around your fingers and all over the bed. keishin didn’t even let you calm down from your high, he was already in-between your legs getting ready to lick up your slick.

you tried to push his head away - your body was still so sensitive from the orgasm, but you knew that the night wouldn’t end without ukai overstimulating you, as he always does. you both knew each other’s boundaries, and this was definitely acceptable - but it was still part of the act for you to resist.

“keishin, please. i'm too sensitive.”

he ignored your words, pinning your wrists up above your head to get your hands out of his way. you complied, but still writhed in his grasp. ukai brought his head down to meet your pussy, shoving his nose harshly into your sensitive clit, before plunging his tongue deep in your walls.

you screamed at the rough contact, your ass threatened to lift up from the bed - but keishin put a firm arm down on your body to ensure that you were going nowhere.

he continued licking out your insides, moaning into your clit. one hand was holding your stomach down and the other was roaming your left breast, fondling the perked nipple in-between his fingers.

you couldn’t help the bodily convulsions you were having, you had already felt so close and he was just starting. you glanced up to watch your reflection in the mirror, smirking back at yourself after remembering how only 15 minutes ago you were imagining this scenario unfolding.

ukai began licking you with more fervor, his tongue moving up to toy with your clit, whilst two fingers plunged into your hole all at once, making up for any contact lost.

you groaned, arching your back so that your pussy was pressed against his face. ukai moaned into your core, licks becoming a sloppy mess.

“you taste so fucking lovely, feels like i haven’t ravaged you in way too fucking long.” ukai groaned his words into your sex, causing all sorts of vibrations to be let loose.

you were close, so close, your moans were becoming more rapid and you couldn’t hold back your hands from tugging into keishin’s hair. he didn't seem to mind it either.

you were pushed over the edge at the feeling of keishin’s lips sucking at your clit, the sensation being way too much for your over-stimulated pussy to handle. it also didn't help that his lidded gaze locked with yours in the exact moment that his lips wrapped around your little bud. you ground against his face as your cum made its new home all over his chin and all over the bed.

the two of you breathed heavily for a few seconds, staring into eachother’s eyes for what felt like forever.

“you’re so fucking good.” you spoke first, words coming out choked and breathless.

he chucked, “yeah, it helps that you taste fucking delicious.”

you giggled at his words, making it sound like you were a fucking plate of dumplings or something-

“did you see the dinner? I made dinner!” you sat up excitedly, suddenly remembering the meal that you made.

“baby, i think i’ve had my dinner.” ukai smirked up at you.

you weren't taking any sexy jokes, not after you remembered your yummy dinner.

“nope, get up. i did not slave over a stove for nothing.” you bounced off the bed, still naked.

keishin rolled his eyes at you, “we coulda just ordered in ya know?”

“hush.” you playfully hit him on the shoulder, before putting his shirt back over your torso and leading him into the kitchen.

after padding into the kitchen, keishin spoke up.

“you know, I meant what said. about you getting cum on my shirt, and licking it clean.” there was a playful smile on his lips as he crossed his arms and faced you.

“I didn't even get cum on your shirt, asswipe.”

“not yet, but I'm nowhere near through with you tonight, princess.”

kuroo testurou

the red blinking numbers on your alarm clock glowed directly in front of your face, mocking you. 3:32A.M. it told you. you had been tossing and turning for the past 3 hours, how did this happen?

next to you, your husband kuroo was comfortably snoring, his breathing a steady rhythm. normally, the noise itself would lull you to sleep, but tonight your body was wide awake, antsy about something. you had already gone to the kitchen for a glass of milk an hour ago, a trick your mother taught you as a child. irritated, you glanced at the empty glass next to your bed, clearly it didn’t work anymore. it only made you have to pee, twice.

you gently flipped onto your back, careful not to wake your soundly sleeping husband, god knew he had to wake up at 6am for work.

you laid there, flat on your back as you stared up at the ceiling; wide eyed and fully awake. you wondered what other remedies you could do to force sleep on yourself. you could chew some melatonin - but you were sure you’d never bought melatonin in your life, you never had a reason to. you drew in a long breath, letting it out in a sigh. meditation? counting sheep? hot tea? – no, you didn’t want any more trips to the bathroom keeping you up.

then a brilliant thought crossed your pretty little mind; masturbation. you almost snorted out loud at the sheer sincerity of it. shifting around a little bit, you rested your hand over your lower stomach - almost teasing the idea of it. your fingers crept lower, now fingering the hem of your cotton shorts. then proceeded to slip your fingers past both the shorts and your underwear. you quickly peered over at your sleeping husband, a wild nest of black hair spread across his pillow. you smiled in admiration, he’s always slept like a rock, usually an arm anchored around you - preventing you from getting out of bed. that same arm was now stuffed under his pillow, you had learned the ways of escaping kuroo’s giant arms long ago.

you paid mind back to your situation at hand, continuing the creeping of your hand further down your skin. you sighed at the feeling of your fingers grazing over your slit, instinctively spreading your legs slightly for better access. you began rubbing at your now exposed clit; slow circular motions. you bit your lip at the newfound warmth bubbling in your stomach, a feeling you’ve always enjoyed.

your husband stirred slightly in his sleep, head now facing yours. you froze slightly, but let out a sigh of relief when his snoring continued. his jet black hair covered his face, only allowing you to see his lips; which were parted as he snored. you almost thought he looked cute, so tempted to run your fingers through his hair. you decided against it, not wanting to wake the poor man up.

your sex started growing quite wet - quicker than you thought it would. maybe it was the idea that what you were doing...so close to your sleeping husband-

-was so dirty.

you bit down on your bottom lip and quickened the pace of your motions, rubbing your little clit with more pressure from your fingertips.

still, you wished it was your husband’s tongue instead of your fingers. lapping up your slick and prodding at your sweet spot. you moaned softly, quickly biting your lip again to suppress the sound. fortunately, your husband stayed asleep.

you started pumping your middle finger into your cunt, needing more friction to finish you off. the action caused you to moan louder, although you really tried to hold them back. and if it weren't your moans that woke your husband up - it was the arching of your back and bucking of your hips, causing the mattress to dip in your spot.

you didn't notice him though, you didn't notice his eyelids fluttering open behind the shaggy head of hair he had, covering his eyes. he laid like that for a good minute, watching you writhe under your own hand, beginning to grab your bare breast from under your shirt. sleep still clouded his head - making his thoughts a bit foggy, but he was becoming more aware of your upcoming climax by the second. you were so far gone you didn't even realize his snoring coming to a halt, your mind was filled with the most lewd fantasies of kuroo pleasuring you in your bed.

when you felt yourself coming close to a climax, a large hand paused your movements by grabbing your wrist. you let out a small yelp, out of pure surprise and terror. you looked over at your husbands form, he was propping himself up on his elbow and jerking his head back a bit to get a better look of you, a smug smirk growing on his lips. his messy hair only covered his left eye now, and you could see the dark hues of his right eye practically glistening, looking down at you with a dark intensity.

“test-”

“i hope i'm not interrupting you, my sneaky girl.” his voice was sleepy and one whole octave lower than it was during the day.

“no, you're not...um. i had trouble sleeping baby.”

he gave you a knowing look and pulled back the blanket that covered his torso, exposing to you his flexed abs.

“and you couldn't ask me for help?” he began creeping over to your frozen body, still halfway under the covers.

“you were sleeping, dummy.” you squinted at him.

“name calling? well baby, two can play at that game.” he got fully on top of you, then proceeded to sink himself back under the covers, until only his head was poking out.

“let me help my chibi-chan out, yeah?” he drawled out the name slowly, knowing just the kind of reaction you'd have.

“testu, you have work in 3 hours, i-”

kuroo rolled his eyes at you, before fully submerging his head below the blanket. your hand was still in your pants, it had seized its movement, but it still remained there almost frozen. kuroo pulled the inconvenient hand out of his way, tugging down your cotton shorts immediately after. you felt unsure what he’d do next, considering you couldn't see him.

after your shorts were long gone, you didn’t feel anything for a few seconds. you perked your head up from its position on your pillow almost ready to call out your lover’s name. you were quickly stopped when you felt a long stroke from his tongue to your wet slit.

you threw your head back, a long moan escaping your mouth. the ecstasy from the feeling of his tongue unexpectedly replacing your fingers was unimaginable. you writhed beneath his mouth, his arms instinctively going to wrap around your thighs, anchoring you down in your place. his tongue continued its assault with an immense amount of pressure; pushing the muscle deep into your hole, then bringing it out to run circles around your clit. you already felt your body closing in on its orgasm. you had gotten yourself pretty far earlier and your husband was only getting you further. kuroo felt your tightening core around his muscle, and he slowed down his tongue movements - ultimately trying to edge you.

and you certainly felt on edge, that was for sure.

your eyes widened at his suddenly slow pace, looking down at the lump of his body covered by the thick blanket. you knew he was getting warm down there, but this was kuroo for crying out loud; this man would go on for hours if he wanted to.

you felt his grip around your thighs tighten as you bucked your pelvis into his face, demanding a little bit more friction. to your dismay, he gave you the absolute opposite of that; digging his nails lightly into your plush skin to almost warn you not to be impatient. you whined under his tongue, the feeling of slow circular motions was driving you crazy. you were about ready to suffocate his face with your pussy - underneath the already claustrophobic blankets.

kuroo suddenly sped up his pace again, planning on bringing you close to another high. and maybe if he was feeling nice, he’d let you come this time. he added two fingers to pulse into your sopping wet cunt as he licked away at your clit and your folds - lewd noises escaping through the small holes between the blanket and the bed. he continued pumping you ‘til he felt your walls begin to clench again, squeezing his two fingers tightly together. he immediately pulled them out.

you gasped at the loss of contact, this time you were really ready to rip the blanket off this man and yell straight in his face. but to your surprise, kuroo submerged himself from under the blanket to meet you face to face.

“having fun, chibi-chan?” he smirked down at your pouting face.

“i was.” you accentuated your words with a roll of your eyes.

kuroo chucked, then grabbed your cheeks in his hand and squeezed them.

“hey, who said you could give me an attitude, huh? you should be thankful that i’m pleasuring you at this hour.” his voice was deep and laced with lust. you know his actions would soon contradict his words, so you played along.

“want some kind of award? oh, i’m so glad my husband edged me at 3am! when i could’ve came and went to sleep already! thank you truly-“

kuroo’s eyes went dark; knowing this game all too well. his hands went from your cheeks to around your throat in a mere second.

“watch your fucking mouth, brat, or you won’t be coming at all tonight.”

you smirked up at him, knowing you got him where you wanted. kuroo pulled down his boxers from his position between your legs and began pumping his half-erect member. you simply sat back and watched him. after a moment, he lined himself up with your core, slightly adjusting his position to get closer to you.

“someone’s taking their sweet time.” you had to bite back a laugh at your own statement.

“patience is virtue, chibi-chan. or did you forget that i could simply stop here and go back to sleep?” kuroo tested you.

“whatever you say, sir.” you looked deep into his eyes, not an ounce of satire in your voice.

kuroo licked his lips devishly, any hint of tiredness he had felt before was long gone now. he pushed his cock deep into your core, bottoming out all at once. your back arched instantly at the feeling of his cock already pressing against your cervix.

“think you can take me, little one?” kuroo smirked down at your face, which was contoured in pleasure and slight discomfort from taking his cock all at once.

“know i can. start moving grandpa, i’m not getting any younger here.” you teased his slow pace.

he raised an eyebrow at you, “you asked for it.” and began shoving himself in and out of you at the speed of fucking light.

you threw your head back in ecstasy, the feeling of his “larger-than-most” cock would never get old to you - no matter how long you two have been together. he almost always stretched you out to unimaginable points.

“test-testu.” you whined out, tongue beginning to loll out of your mouth.

“that’s mr. kuroo to you, little one.” the muscles of his biceps were starting to tense up as he continued fucking you senseless.

you could barely whine out a response, his cock was already so close to pushing you past your breaking point. he made matters worse by bringing a hand down to play with your clit, only to retract that hand and slap your pussy with it, tauntingly. he knew exactly what kind of response he’d get from that, as you wail out from under him.

“i’m so close...” you almost regretted saying that in fear that he’d just pull out and go to sleep. but you knew better that he already sensed you were close without you having to say anything.

he smirked from his position on top of you, black hair falling in a mess over his face as he tilted his head down to look at you better.

“so am i.” he groaned into your ear as he inched his body closer to yours, your erect nipples practically brushing against his bare chest through your thin shirt.

your core tightened as your climaxed reached itself. you dug your nails into the bare skin on kuroo’s back for support, he barely even hissed in pain at the sensation. your hips bucked as your orgasm took over your whole body, legs shaking from the aftermath of the intense high. your husband fucked you through your orgasm relentlessly, seeking to find his own orgasm. he came shortly after you, deeply groaning into your ear - the noise had goosebumps rising all over your body.

“always so fucking good, chibi-chan.” his eyes were half-lidded, as were yours.

your chest heaved as you began to calm down from your high. kuroo pulled himself out of you and quickly retreated to the bathroom to get some towels to clean you guys up.

but when he got back you were already half asleep, cuddled into his pillow, inhaling his fresh, yet musky scent. he smiled down at you, a towel still in hand.

you mumbled to him, sleep nearly taking over you, “thank you, baby~”

#kenma kozume #kuroo testuro #oikawa tooru #oikawa toru #ukai keishin #kenma smut #kuroo smut #oikawa smut #ukai smut #hq smut #hq smau #haikyuu smut #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #oikawa x fem!reader #kuroo x fem!reader #ukai x reader #kenma x fem!reader #haikyuu!!

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chippedaxe · 4 years ago

Note

stepbro george smut 🤤 if u could do hard dom george with fem reader?

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Title: 𝒮𝓉𝑒𝓅𝒷𝓇𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑔𝑒𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒

Warnings: NSFW! (Minors DNI), coarse language, sub reader, hard dom, stepcest, degrading, teasing, masturbation, slapping, voyeurism, (unedited)

Pronouns: she/her AFAB

Synopsis: You and George are left alone at home which causes you to become bored and restless, you then bother George with your boredom.

Word count: 1.6k

Note: I'll try to write this the best I can, I don't rlly know how to write hard dom george but I'll try! Thank you for the request <3

* Let me know if there are any warnings or any other things to change !!

Welcome 🧝🏽‍♀️ anon btw!

*My emojis updates since I took that photo so now the emoji looks different

˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚

Your eyes shifted to stare at your stepbrother George, you then quickly glanced away when he looked over at you. You heard him scoff a bit before he walked away, the heat rose to your cheeks and made you blush. You were sitting on the couch watching the TV and zoning out but stopped when you heard your parents at the door "We're leaving to stay at your aunts for the weekend! George is in charge of the house!" you had barely caught on to what they were saying as they had just suddenly left.

"George?" you called out to him just as your parents had left "yeah, what?" he came down the stairs "Why're our parents leaving?" you asked "didn't you listen to them? They're staying over with our aunt" George rolled his eyes at you "No yeah- I got that, but why?" you turned around on the couch so you two were now face to face "They left because you were annoying them too much" George snickered "Hey! That's mean- Why're they really leaving??" you got up from the couch.

George shrugged and started walking off "Don't be an asshole!" you crossed your arms and pouted "An asshole? Me? Never! I'm one of the kindest guys you'll ever meet, and I know you won't meet many but that's not the point" he teased you "HEY! What's that supposed to mean?" you followed him up the stairs "What? I'm just saying the truth!" George slipped into his bedroom and tried to get away from you, you groaned as he shut the door on you and went into your own room.

'George is an idiot, he keeps teasing me' you thought to yourself as you laid down on the bed, you tossed around in your sheets as you were becoming restless and bored. "I'm so BORED" you groaned out in boredom, your hands pulling at your face in agony "ughhhhh" you made random noises to try and satisfy your boredom "Hey- do you mind not being annoying?" George opened your door "I'm so bored though!" you exclaimed "Yeah well go and do something then, stop bothering me about it!" George went to slam your door but you stopped him "Why don't you hang out with me or something??" you suggested.

"Because you're just my dumb little sister" George walked off "C'mon! We can play a game or something!" you were desperately trying to satisfy your boredom "Why don't you just go on your phone like a normal person?" George left you alone once again. You slumped down onto the floor and held your head in your hands "Why's he always gotta be so difficult?" you huffed in annoyance, you take your phone out and decide to bother George over the internet.

You called him a bunch of times until he picked up "WHAT?! WHAT DO YOU WANT??" he screamed into the phone "I'm bored! Why don't you just hang out with meeeee?" you asked "because then you'll just complain the whole time!" George hung up but you repeatedly kept calling him "I'm literally so close to blocking you!" George sighed "We could play one of your video games??" you smiled as you thought he might finally agree to do something with you "I am not gonna let you touch my shit, just go touch yourself or something, I don't fucking know" he hung up again.

You blushed at his suggestion 'Touch myself? I can't believe he suggested that! He's a gross pervert!' you thought to yourself but your hand was ironically already subtly making its way down between your legs. His suggestion couldn't hurt and it was an easy way to pass sometime and cure your boredom, you had to be quiet though, George's room was literally right next to yours and you'd be embarrassed to hell if he heard you.

You pulled down your pants so they were hanging around your thighs and then you proceeded to rub yourself down there, you moaned quietly but then had to quickly shut yourself up. You leaned over on the bed and positioned yourself so your face was buried in the blankets and your fingers were rubbing at your sore clit, you were huffing and puffing into the sheets.

Your fingers slipped inside and you let out a small gasp, you moved your other hand to cover your mouth. Your eyes closed as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to releasing, your orgasm already approaching hastily, you didn't know that anyone was there watching you until you heard a clear coughing noise "Having fun?" you blushed all over. You slowly moved your hands and looked up at George "h-hey.." you gulped nervously, you stupid girl- why didn't you lock the door?!

"That looked fun, why'd you stop?" He crossed his arms over and looked down at you "B- Because you're watching me.." you whispered "If you didn't want my attention then you should've been more quiet. Fucking yourself right next to my bedroom? Naughty girl" George smirked "I- I-.." You tried to speak up but he didn't let you "Keep going" He ordered you. You meekly listened and started to touch yourself again "There's no use in hiding your voice, our parents are gone and I'm already here" George told you.

You let out a choked moan, you glanced away from George as his eyes were on you "Didn't know my sister was such a whore.. Getting off because I told you to, aren't you?" George teased, you nodded shyly "I knew it. Are you thinking about me while you do it?" He leaned in closer to breath hot hair onto your ear. You shiver from his warm breath "m- maybe.." you answer him "maybe isn't good enough, doll" George crawls on top of you and pins you to the bed.

You pull your hand away from your crotch and you try to back up a bit "Are you tryna run away? Just let me know now if you want me to leave" George gave you a way to back out but you rejected it "Fine with me, c'mere.." He leaned in and kissed your lips. You kissed him back gently, you were still half stunned that your stepbrother was here doing this to you. You pulled away quickly "G-George! You're my stepbrother!" you exclaimed "Yeah, you just realize that now?" George laughed and pulled you back in again.

"Come on, don't use me like this, you don't even like me!" you pushed him away "Who says I don't like you? I might tease you and you might annoy me but that's just regular sibling things, right?" George had a point "Is that all you think of me? Your sister?" he shakes his head "During the day I do, but at night-" He didn't finish his sentence as he captured your lips in another kiss.

You closed your eyes and kissed him back, your hands running through his hair as you two kiss. George pulled away for a bit of air and then started to roughly kiss at your neck "fuck.." you gasped "D- don't leave any marks!" you warned him "And if I do? Just put some makeup on" George bit down on your neck "ah!" you moaned from his little actions.

"Did you stretch yourself earlier?" George started to unbuckle his belt, you nodded and opened your legs to show your aching hole "You're such a slutty sister.." George bit his lip as he zipped down his pants and positioned himself at your entrance, he slowly slid in and you let out a loud groan "ahhhhh fuckkkkk.." you threw your head back.

He grunted as he started to thrust inside of you, his cock felt huge inside of you, the tip of his dick was hitting every part inside of you and it felt amazing! You held onto his arms and dug your nails into his shoulders "S-shit!" you swallowed down another moan "Damn, you gonna cum already?" George teased you. He started to buck his hips even faster, his free hand was bruising your hip while the other one was clamped around your neck and holding your head up to look at him.

"Cum for me, cum for your fucking stepbrother" he slapped you across the face which left a tingle on your skin. You came just after he had slapped you, your pussy clenched around him and he groaned loudly "oh fuck-" he didn't mean to but he ended up cumming inside of you after you had an orgasm. You laid down on the bed and tried to catch your breath, George sighed and left the room to grab a washcloth.

He started to clean your insides, his hand sliding inside of you just to clean the cum out "Ow!" you winced "Sorry Y/n.." he whispered "What're you being so nice to me now for?" you asked "I'm your brother, I can still be nice and an annoying dickhead" he smiled up at you. "What'd you slap me for by the way? Now my cheek hurts.." you whined "to knock some sense into you" George joked around "asshole."

#tw stepcest #🧝🏽‍♀️ anon #mcyt x reader smut #mcyt x reader #dsmp smut #dream smp smut #mcyt smut #c!georgenotfound smut #c!george smut #georgenotfound smut #gnf smut

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angeli-marco-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Sherlock Holmes - Kiss Me, Mr Detective

A/N - Season 1!Sherlock, the cutie. And friends to lovers. Two of my favourite things. I do not own Sherlock Holmes, the character, the universe, the adaptations or anything: this is a work of fiction set on the BBC adaptation of Sherlock. Did I still write 8.2k words (exactly) for it? Yes. I also don’t own the song or the lyrics used within, and if you fancy it, listen to ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran while reading.

Warnings - Bad language. Mentions of murder and drug usage. Mild angst. Smut, loss of virginity, masturbation, oral m receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, so 18+.

Summary - After a fight with John leaves Sherlock feeling particularly down, he calls on the one person who is always there to support him. Only tonight, it’s different. Feelings come to a head, exploration ensues, but is this just a one time thing? That depends on whether she stays the night...

TO SHERLOCK, it’s just another normal day, whereas to John? He’d rather not admit how regularly these awful days roll around. Sure, the case didn’t go as well as it could’ve, and Sherlock admittedly could’ve made much more of an effort to comfort John after the apparent ‘heartbreak’ he endured. He just could not understand it. Why the hell was John so emotionally responsive to a case they’d been on for less than twenty four hours which turned out to be a bust anyway?

“You are absolutely unbelievable!”

“People die every day, John. You’ve killed people, as have I. It isn’t that great a surprise.” Sherlock deadpans, picking up his teacup, raising it to his lips, drawing a long sip from the warm liquid.

“Oh, yeah, of course. The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.” John mocks. “Do you not even care that people are still dead despite the fact you solved the case?”

“They’d be dead either way,” he reiterates, “at least we got to them before they completely decomposed. Will me caring about them stop them from being dead? No, Dr Watson, it will not.”

“Sherlock!”

“John!” He mimics.

John slams his hands down on the desk, shaking the wood and everything resting on it, surely sending the vibrations through the floor and notifying Mrs Hudson of their ‘domestic’ as she so likes to call them. The buffalo even begins to swing. John’s tea is long forgotten, but Sherlock’s is keeping him grounded, calm, as John waggles his fist in Sherlock’s passive, blank face.

“You-” he pauses, gulping down breath. “You are a fucking machine, I can’t even deal with you right now. How dare you be so cold hearted and untroubled by this. You’re a disgrace.”

As if he hasn’t heard that one before, Sherlock scoffs.

Placing his teacup back down with a clink, he stands, the darkness of the night, of the room, closing in on them both. Nights like these really are danger nights, any night John leaves him. That’s what's coming next, but there isn’t a thing he knows to say or do to prevent the inevitable. He’ll simply just text Her instead, she’ll keep him grounded.

“Why? Emotional context? Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow, whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle, is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.”

With a huff like a bull, John viciously turns on his heel, blaspheming under his breath, cursing Sherlock out. He reaches for his coat and snatches it off the stand, slamming the door open.

“MACHINE.” John screams before pulling the door shut with a great slam, seething, the coat stand still rocking in his wake.

John’s footsteps thunder down the stairs, but before he’s even gone, Sherlock’s phone is withdrawn, and he’s tapping out a message.

Can you come over? Please? SH

It wouldn’t usually bother him as much. The case didn’t phase him, at all, but John’s opinion did. It always does. But today was a particularly long day of being brutish and rude, cold and distant, his usual and true self, but John’s more and more impatient with him now.

Being called a ‘machine’ is, again, nothing unusual, but this time it stings a little more than usual, especially after his recent arrest, and a fallout with Molly. He only has one person left, right now, who doesn’t hate him. His longest friend, the one he keeps away from it all so as to not tarnish her life with his misdeeds; Y/N, the one he can always rely on.

He knows she’s arrived by the sound of his window crashing open. Crawling up the bricks, skimming the drainpipe, latching onto the ivy; it’s her usual manner of entry. She never uses the door.

Putting his cups and saucers into the sink, he makes his way through the house, opening his bedroom door to find her already sitting there on the bed, her coat hung up on the hook, her work clothes clinging to her body.

“Hey there Mr Detective, you okay?” she asks as jovially as she can muster.

The way he ambles across the room, his dressing gown floating behind him, and slumps down onto the bed, instantly tells her he’s not okay at all. She can’t help but to look upon him sympathetically, edging a smidge closer to him, until he’s prompted enough to wrap his arms around her torso, finding his rightful place tangled around her. She knows him well enough - his past, and his current life - to realise she’s the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do this with, and that brings her a certain swelling pride in her bosom, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock as he feels her skin heat up against his cheek.

It doesn’t take long, either, for his head to follow suit, burying into her chest. He’s always, always had a thing for her boobs, ever since they were in uni together.

That’s something so special about the two of them, he doesn’t have to say anything for her to know he’s not okay the way he does with everyone else. And naturally, he can read everything about her in a split second.

“I’m here, bud.”

Above all else, he just needs to know someone is there for him in moments like these. The world is cruel to him, and Y/N wishes more than anything that it wasn’t. Upon instinct, her hands stray, one to his back, pressing against the silk of his dressing gown, the other cradling his long neck, fingers knotting in the dark curls there.

She isn’t sure how long she stays there, simply holding him, feeling every twitch of his muscles, every breath of his against her skin, but she likes it. Of course she does, every time she likes it. Sherlock brings her an inordinate amount of comfort at the best of times, today is no exception, especially with what the day has held. Even when she’s the one comforting him, he doesn’t realise how much he helps her too.

His flat is so familiar, his bed as comfortable as her own. She knows his sock index, she’s studied his periodic table over his shoulder more times than she’d care to admit, and she even has her own toothbrush in the bathroom in case she has to pop over for an emergency freshen up. Sherlock has, and always will be, her first port of call, and that she remembers as she shifts further onto the quilted bedspread, her phone on his oak bedside locker.

His head begins to stir against her chest, his curls tickling her collarbones, small hums escaping his lips as he pushes himself up, his elegant yet trembling hands still splayed on her waist.

“I could feel your heart beating weirdly, what’s wrong?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows.

“Just the usual.” she vaguely replies.

Sherlock isn’t having it, though, and scans her a little more. “You’re still in your work clothes.”

“Great deduction. I was hoping you’d go a little deeper, though.”

“You hate wearing work clothes longer than necessary, which means you had plans straight after work, considering you finished… five hours ago? That’s your usual time for today. Counting overtime, forty five minutes, walk to your car, another ten, but your umbrella wasn’t working, round that up to an hour, leaving at 6. You arrived home, no, not home, at your boyfriend’s house for dinner. However, you’re not comfortable enough with one another yet for you to use his shower, or perhaps you are, but you elected not to, and stay in damp clothes that only had seventeen minutes to dry with the heater on in your car for the journey there. You ate dinner, Mexican, had a glass and a half of five percent wine, realised you couldn’t drive, but you didn’t particularly want to stay. Nonetheless you sat and watched the telly with him for hours, football, I can see the dreariness in your eyes. I know how much you hate it, and frankly, same. You stayed for almost all of the match, seeing as you’re now sober, but something else happened.” She lulls her head to the side, prompting him, her smile not meeting her eyes. “As soon as the match ended, he tried to make a move on you, he pressed his mouth to yours, he tried to push his hand up your skirt;” his throat bobs with a vicious gulp; despising the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her, “you swatted him away, rightfully so.”

He pauses a minute, his harsh tone of voice and his sharp face softening. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes, her walls about to crumble. This woman he appreciates so much. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Smiling melancholically up at him, she brings her hand back to his hair, her fingers carding through the soft curls. His face buries back into her chest just as her voice offers a broken whisper, “I broke it off. I was the one who couldn’t commit this time.”

And as she lays her head on top of his, her breathing more shallow, resounding in her chest, he dwells over those very words. The way she said them, not to mention the words themselves, hold a myriad of meaning. What could she possibly-

Oh.

The subtext, yes, impeccable. She’s always had a way with implications and subtext, always knowing that the likelihood of him actually picking up on it is little to none. But now, now he’s become trained to her, her way of life, her way of thinking, her way of speaking. This is too good an opportunity to miss. If she means what he thinks she means, ever hopeful, then this is completely unfamiliar territory.

Gathering all of his courage in one deep breath, he begins to pepper kisses on her skin. The faintest brush of his lips on the tops of her breasts, all that’s available to him with her shirt the way it is. He feels her heart flutter, her breathing stutter, but despite the chemical flush of her chest, he still isn’t quite sure she likes it. Not until he feels her grip on his hair increase, and he glances up to see her head thrown back. Her spine delicately arches against his hand, thrusting her chest further into his face.

His nimble fingers reach for her buttons, undoing the top two, giving him space enough to find the valley between her breasts. Lathering kisses there, licking the swells of her boobs, his tongue pulsates with the increased thrumming of her heart. The sensation is new, so unbridled, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the stirring in his loins right about now. That unknowing is only further amplified by the sound that rips from her chest when he involuntarily bites down on the supple flesh. It couldn’t be… a moan?

Sure, he understands the chemistry of it, the reactions that occur in the synapses of the brain, the pheromones and hormones released when one is aroused, but this is all new to him. And, from his embarrassingly basic level of theory, surely that doesn’t start until some more stimulation on other parts of the body commence? Nipples, perhaps something lower down… then again, what does Sherlock know?

Of course it’s an intimate moment, the closest he’s been to a woman before, and maybe that’s why he freezes, stops, and she tugs his head up by his hair, her gentle, pleasured smile with her lips softly parted deepening the look of bewilderment painted onto his face. Her eyes are twinkling, alight with an excitement he hasn’t seen for far too long.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

He shrugs his shoulders with a sudden force, his dressing gown falling off a little. “I don’t know. But now I feel like I read your pining words all wrong.”

She gasps, a wheezing sound, sucking the air from the room. She smacks his arm gently, muffled by his button-down and dressing gown. “I wasn’t pining! I was saying.”

“Hmm, same difference.”

Everyone must acquiesce when it comes to Sherlock Holmes. “But no, you didn’t read them wrong at all, but I know you don’t see me that way, you don’t feel things that way.”

He pauses, his beautiful plump lips pursed, fidgeting on the bed. Brushing her hair off her face reveals the pain she expressed. However, her eyes glued on his, sadness is betrayed in every line of his young, clean-shaven face. His entire bone structure is taking a nosedive.

“For you, I’ve been feeling everything from hate to love to lust, and I guess that’s how I know I want to hold you close.”

“Sherlock...” she whispers, her singular word an inflection of surprise.

Never tearing his eyes from her, his hand comes up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the slightly blushing skin, searching her face, with his big blue eyes, for a shred of reluctance. But, all he sees is her, so he elects to do what his heart is yelling at him to do for once, and kisses her breathless. His full lips holding hers, his one hand on her face, the other still wrapped around her back. Hers fly around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.

It doesn’t take long, their movements steadily heating, for their previously slow, intimate kiss to grow into something more, Y/N pulling herself up from the bed and making herself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap. His breath hitches in his throat, a cute little hiccupping sound escaping his lips in between embraces.

As much as he loves just this, soft caressing and gentle petting, he just knows she wants more. He does too, that much is evident from the length prodding at Y/N’s inner thigh as she moves gently on his lap. She won’t make a move, though, he’s too inexperienced, and she’s too much of a sweetheart to corrupt him, so she thinks. Ever since he first saw her, she’s been corrupting him slowly. He didn’t realise at first, but over the years, he began to understand, and now he’s in too deep.

For Y/N? It’s always been him. Every breakup she’s had, she’ll come to Sherlock’s flat, full well knowing the real reason she broke up with them, because she couldn’t commit, because she was too caught up on him.

Skimming his hands beneath her shirt, he savours the press of his hands on her bare skin, warmth seeping from her body into his, his fingers dancing along her spine. Electricity shocks her in bursts, unlike anything else, from his touch alone.

“May I take your shirt off?” he asks.

“Fuck, yes.” she groans. “May I do yours?”

“Be my guest.”

In a tangle of limbs, a few buttons pop off, and eventually, two shirts make it out the other side, tossed from the bed and into the laundry pile. Aka Sherlock’s floor. He’s like that: sock indexes, yet he won’t get a hamper. A walking contrast.

His thumbs press beneath the band of her bra, savouring the pressure of the flesh that falls into his hands, but that’s as far as he gets.

“Never undone a bra before?”

He shakes his head sheepishly. “I know the theory. Just… you always wear peculiar ones.”

“I wear relatively normal bras, and this one is certainly bog standard. Had I known you’d be undressing me Mr Detective, I’d have worn something nicer.”

“Just do it for me.” He requests, chuckling.

She unfastens her bra, and allows her breasts to spill from the cups, into Sherlock’s awaiting hands. The gasp that erupts from him sends Y/N’s brain into overdrive. He’s cupped her chest through her shirt before, buried his nose into her cleavage countless times, but never before have they had such skin on skin contact. Her lips press to his neck, shifting her closer to him. Sucking on his pressure point, she receives a similar gasp in response, only this one is more guttural, more a sound of pleasure than surprise. He’s wilting from a single kiss to his neck.

“Has no one ever given you a hickey?” She husks in his ear, her voice alone sending tremors down his spine.

“N- fuck, no.”

“I’ll make it worth it. All of this.”

“I know you will.”

She fuses her lips onto his again, savouring the faint hesitations as he grapples with his breath, eager to get some control on his mind with all that’s happening. Never did she ever think Sherlock would be here beneath her, his rough fingertips brushing over her peaked buds, and his palms dancing over her waist. Never did she think she’d hear him whisper his next words, either, not in a million years.

“More.” he pleads. “Can we do… more? Whatever that entails?”

“That depends what you want to do.”

“Get me out of these damn trousers. They're rather uncomfortable.”

She snorts lightly, a piggy like sound, the one they bonded over all those years ago. “I can feel why.”

“I imagine you want out of your work trousers, too.”

“God, yes; they’re ghastly.”

“I don’t think so.” he hums. “You look nice.”

Her cheeks begin to burn, blood rushing to colour them, betraying her true feelings, but as he tweaks her nose playfully, the little snort escapes again.

They were in the dining hall, second week of university, almost ten years ago, and Y/N was sitting with her friends, downing enough coffee to sink a ship, eating her hangover away, when her friends decided to make her laugh with tales of last night's drunken events. Unbeknownst to her, one of the greatest minds of the twenty-first century was sitting just a few seats down on the half-empty bench, watching her perceptively in his periphery. That’s when he first heard the sound. The cutest thing, and it startled him into action, beginning his deductions almost instantly. Admittedly, her student ID on the table aided him a little.

He shocked her from her haze, too, as soon as he spoke her name.

“Y/N, eighteen, jurisprudence first year, freshers week over with. You left a boyfriend back home, but you’re more sad about leaving your dog, as I would be. You don’t particularly care about law but know it’s a good undergraduate to receive anyway. Dyed hair, extrovert, killer hangover, and apparently there’s a little piggy living inside your nose. Sherlock Holmes, would you like some aspirin?”

“That’s weird; what are you, some kind of detective?” She asked, sans malice, a playful bounce to her words.

“Chemistry, going for a masters. But I do like the mystery, yes.”

“So you’re… bright. Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and it seems you know almost everything you need to know about me. But yes, I will take that aspirin, if you don’t mind. How was your weekend?”

He smiled at her, the first true smile he’d given in a long time. “It was nice, thank you.”

And thus a friendship was born, all because he heard her little piggy snort.

Her slender fingers work wonders with the fastener and zip of his suit trousers, and even manage hers too, all within the space of a few seconds, but Sherlock is reluctant to let her go, even just to get her trousers off.

“I need to sit up, just for a minute.”

“No.” Sherlock commands, insistent. “We can make this work.”

“Sure we can, but it won’t be very comfortable. Come on.”

She’s barely peeled away from him and wrestled hers off before he’s drawing her back in for a kiss, his trousers settled just above his knees.

“Sherlock,” she protests, mumbling against his lips, her hands on his heavenly, broad, muscular shoulders. “Sher!”

Her squeal at his sudden tug on her panties disappears, captured by his eager mouth. And in fact, her panties seem to disappear along with it, thanks to Sherlock’s swift movements and nimble hands. Maybe he’s had some experience to be so good at this…

“You sure you wanna go this far?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need you.”

He takes a deep inhale, dropping his forehead against hers, his breathing coming out in bursts as he tries to get a grasp on the situation. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly getting to work on the waistband of his boxers as his tongue lavishes her own. His hips rise briefly, just long enough for her to tug the elasticated material from around him, slipping past her, and then he kicks it into their growing pile of clothes. His length falls into her awaiting palm, and-

“Wow.” She exhales in amazement. “If I’d known you were packing this much, I’d have jumped you long ago.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Absolutely not, until tonight I thought you’d just laugh at me.”

He pecks her lips affectionately, “Never. You’re bloody beautiful, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hmm, anything, you say?”

Stifling a chuckle against her neck, he recommences, “Maybe not anything.”

Yeah, that's definitely the right call. Still, she finds herself all but clawing at him, her breath hovering teasingly just over his lips, their noses touching, her hands clamped to his cheeks, feeling the building heat there. She must be making such a mess of his bed right about now, but for one night? It can’t matter.

This is a one time thing, it has to be. Sherlock just needs to release some tension, she just so happens to be there. Still, she can’t prevent the little glimmer of hope shining through at the possibility of this being a more-than-one-time thing. The moral compunctions of their friendship after this don’t matter anymore, because he’s leaving a fire in his wake, his delicious fingertips digging bruisingly into her bum before trailing lightly up her spine, skimming her shoulder, brushing her neck - arched for him to reach where he wants, able to mark her as his own - and finally slipping over her lips, taken obediently by her awaiting mouth. Christ, if there’s one thing she hopes for tonight, it’s that his actions never relent.

Whether it’s what he intends to happen or not, his fingers in her mouth give her an idea, one she prays he goes along with at least a little, so she pulls away. The dirty, telling smile on her face hints at what she’s about to do, lending Sherlock to shift a little more up the bed, his eyes following her every move. Hands splayed on his thighs, her small fingers gripping onto the fine hairs there, she begins to take his tip into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact with him. Yeah, this is what’ll drive him insane.

Inch by inch, she takes him into the welcoming heat of her mouth, pulling off slowly, only to go down again. She adds her tongue into the mix at some point, too, and her hand, on what she can’t reach, tickling his balls, but further than that, his mind is blank. Hot white, washed with pleasure. The sounds he emits are other worldly, so much that he has to muffle himself with his own hand; what would Mrs Hudson say? He’s always had such control over his mind and body, but this… he’s slowly losing all semblance of control, and he’s not even mad about it. What he does know is that there’s a building heat in his abdomen, a coil about to spring, and his cock is beginning to twitch. If she keeps going this incredible way, her teeth grazing him ever so gently, adding another new sensation into the mix, he’s inexorably going to finish before he can help it.

“As much as I adore your torturous ministrations, I think I need to be inside you…” He husks, his voice deep.

A smirk gracing her lips, she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, mischief glinting in her pretty little mesmerising eyes for a second, before she hollows her cheeks and takes him wholly, allowing his length to slip partially down her throat. Her moan reverberates around him, and Sherlock begins to thrash above her, scrunching the duvet in his hands, not caring if it creases. If there’s one thing Sherlock hates, it’s creases. And being called a machine by his best friend. Right now, though, it seems as though every misstep in his day has led him here, into the welcoming heat of Y/N’s mouth, taking him so eagerly, her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick, a string of saliva remaining as she pulls away.

“I think you’ve got a couple of rounds in you, Mr Detective. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.” He stammers, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy a moment later as she begins to work on the head with kitten licks. “But… can I s- fuck me, say something?”

“I plan on it.” she chuckles, “anything.”

She goes back to peppering kisses all over his member, tip to base, brushing his balls, working her way back up.

“Touch yourself f- for me.”

“What? Why?”

Her tone is more inquisitive than anything else, but upon that playfully rueful look in his lust-darkened baby blue eyes, she knows he’s going to get her back for this little display, and he’s just worked out how. It works both ways, she can prepare herself for what’s to come next while pleasuring him. And he gets to watch. It’s a win-win for him. Maybe he likes this sex thing a little more than he’s letting on.

“Are you sure you want me to? I’ll just make a mess on your sheets, Sher.”

She swallows him again, bobbing her head up and down on his length a few times while he grapples with literal reality. He’s teetering on the edge. One more move, and he’s a goner. His head is already against the wall, lolled there.

“I don’t care about the sheets, darling, I need you ready for me.”

She gulps, nods, and reaches one hand around her, skimming over her stomach, until it nestles between her thighs. She rubs her thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-come beading there, while she rubs over her throbbing pearl, pressing softly. Then, as she inches down on his cock, taking him in her mouth, she also collects the slick from between her thighs, and uses it as a lube to push a finger inside herself. Of all the times she’s touched herself, she never imagined, even in her wild Sherlock fantasies, that she’d be doing it with his dick down her throat. With every bob of her head, she scissors herself more, sinking back onto her fingers.

“I think I’m-” Sherlock begins to say, his words cut off by an utterly obscene moan splitting the air.

She hastily abandons her one post, and wraps both of her hands around his girth, working on what she can’t fit into her mouth with her increased speed, licking and suckling his head as he begins to fall apart, coming, with a scream, down her throat, his one hand clamped over his mouth, biting down harshly to silence his cries; the other buried in her hair.

His whole body falls lax, completely spent, meanwhile, Y/N savours every drop she’s been able to draw from him. He softens in her mouth, allowing her change to slip away from him, grasping a tissue from the bedside to wipe away any excess. That’s certainly something she never thought would happen…

He’s calm, though, smiling lazily through hooded eyes, his breathing regulated once more, making beckoning motions to her with his big hands. He’s placated, though, and sliding her hands into his, she’s allowed time enough to get into place, smiling softly at him, raking her fingers over his scalp in a comforting way. Even as she sits herself on his lap, she can feel him hardening beneath her ass, slowly but surely. She was right about him, he’s definitely got another round in him.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks.

“No, sweetheart, they’re in my other bag. I didn’t plan on getting any for a while… do you?”

“Not in here, that I’m aware of. John may have stashed some in my less favoured dressing gowns or socks, and he definitely has some upstairs, but I’m unawares.”

“I’m gonna sound crazy here, but do we need one?” She says hesitantly. His eyes widen, he cocks his head to the side. “I was tested after my last partner, I’m clean, and on birth control. You’re a virgin. There’s no point, is there?”

“You have a considerably good point.”

With that, energy rejuvenated a little, he wraps an arm around her body, flipping them over so he’s on top, shadowing her, looming over her, gazing down at every inch of her naked beauty.

“Take your time. I’ll be your safety.”

“I know.” he whispers, a tearful smile making its way onto her face. “Thank you.”

He needn’t say more, because she already knows why she’s being thanked. For her kindness, for making him so comfortable, for accepting the fact he’s still a virgin in his late twenties and, if he’s being honest, has no damn clue what the practicality and reality of sex is. Sure, he’s seen porn. He’s also looked at John’s laptop. But that doesn’t prepare one for when the moment comes. It’s like all of that goes out the window, and he simply remembers the first time he opened a biology textbook at secondary school, pictures of flushed organs staring back at him, desperately waiting to be relieved. That’s what his own coock is like right now, already hard again, virtually pulsating with hunger in his palm. He strokes himself a couple of times, glancing down at Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Are you okay? Can I…”

“Yes, Sherlock,” she chuckles, “whenever you’re ready.”

Now, he thinks. He rubs two digits through her folds, gathering her wetness, enamoured with the way it glistens on his fingertips. Tentatively, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to get a taste. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he moans. She’s better than any cup of tea he’s ever had.

His cock slaps against his lower stomach pleadingly, so he grasps it in his hand, and begins to enter her, pushing gently, feeling every flutter of her walls. Her arms fly out, hands grasping his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake at the delicious stretch. It’s nothing like they’ve ever felt before.

“Can I move?” He asks, balls deep inside her, their pelvises flush against one another.

“Please.” She all but begs.

Before doing anything else, Sherlock hooks one strong arm around her body, malleable in his hands, and holds her chest against his. Her breasts push into his skin, her nipples gaining friction from the dusting of hair there. Her one hand cups his slender neck, the other, his sharp cheek. Their eyes meet in a fierce gaze of burning intensity, and he begins to move. Slow, calculated, sharp thrusts punctuate her core. With every heavenly stroke, he can feel the ridges in her velvet walls, squeezing around him unwittingly.

“Jesus,” she cries, her clutch increasing.

“Hmm, not quite.”

The smirk in his words is quite literally audible. He’s so cocky, so full of himself, and fuck if she can’t feel another gush of arousal coursing through her, drenching his cock. How does he manage to be so attractive when he’s so dishevelled?

“Is that good?” He asks, unsure.

“So good.”

She brings her legs up, skimming the clenched backs of his thighs, until they wrap around him, drawing his hips into her at a new and improved angle. Heels digging into the base of his spine, he begins to move with a new purpose, his thrusts more passionate as his breath is drained from him by her kisses, his eyes alight with a new flame.

“Oh my God, Sherlock.” She pants, pulling him in for a kiss he greedily returns.

He drives his hips deeper, squeezing his fingertips into her supple waist bruisingly. It’ll be a mark that she belonged to him once, even just for one night. That’s when he reaches that special spongy spot that makes her entire body buckle. She all but screams, pressing into him wholly.

The coil is building, ready to break. He seems to be nearing the edge, too, his member twitching inside her when he buries himself particularly deep. She’s oh so fucking close… She licks into his mouth filthily, desperately clashing her teeth with his, eager for his kisses to tide her over. Silence her. Shifting his supporting hand, he trails one dextrous finger around to circle her clit, adding the faintest pressure for a moment. She mewls as he groans into her hot skin, clawing at him, entirely at his whim. Now he knows where to press, he settled his grip back around her, and draws her in close. This time around, he bends his knees a little more to measure his movements more carefully, ensuring that he ruts up and brushes her sensitive bud with his pelvis, helped by the extra friction of his neatly trimmed pubic hair on every thrust within her, his tip just scraping her g-spot.

“I- Sherlock, please tell me you’re- oh sweet mercy- close.”

He grunts softly in her ear. “So close.”

Their lips meet tenderly, passionately, in what they acknowledge to be a final kiss, moans mixing between them, savoured by the other.

His thighs clench, her legs tighten around his waist, and finally, her sweet walls flutter, squeezing him as she reaches her climax, his not following long after, spilling inside her, painting her soft walls white, marking her.

“Y/N,” he cries in ecstasy as his orgasm reaches him. “Sher…” she repeats, her saving grace as pleasure washes over her entirely.

Their whole bodies wind up pressed together, bound together as one, skin on skin completely, becoming one another.

He lets her down gently, unravelling his grip, unsurprised when their sweaty skin sticks together. Her long legs unfurl, splaying in a butterfly. Sherlock tumbles ungracefully away, somehow landing with a certain gangly elegance on the space of mattress beside her, his arm instinctively flying over to place on her stomach, the skin hot and flushed red. Her chest moves hastily up and down with the thrumming of her heart, while his barely shifts despite his shallow breaths, his white skin glistening in the moonlight.

“Are you okay?” He huffs, turning on his side. “You look pretty fucked out.”

His baby blue eyes train instantly on her nipples, hard in the open air. This is the first notifier, the first inkling she has to feel self conscious, so she draws the sheet up around her as best as she can. Sherlock’s not having any of it, taking a stronghold on her arms, and pulling her until she’s lying on him, naught to separate them.

“I’ve never been this close to anyone physically and y'know.” He hums tiredly. She’s never heard him sound tired before…

She smiles up at him as best she can, “Are you glad?”

He begins to hold her ever closer, squeezing her tighter, feeling every ridge of her body.

“I’m so glad that you were my first, in so many ways.”

Praise from Sherlock is a rarity, and she’ll take it as and when she can, savouring every moment, this time by holding him like a koala, her grip not wavering.

“I’m glad too, Mr Detective.”

He brushes a kiss to her cheek, “As much as I like this, we need to get you cleaned up.”

A supporting arm beneath her bum, he picks her up, and unsteadily ambles into the bathroom.

“I don’t know much about this, but I know you should probably use the toilet, should you want to avoid a UTI, so if you’d like me to leave…”

He sets her down on the loo seat, cupping his hands over his nether regions, and he hurries to grasp for things, until she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing in a conciliatory manner.

“You do remember the camping trip, don’t you? You really don’t have to leave just because I have to pee, you never did before. In fact, you frequently annoyed me with it if you had a particular point to make, steadfastly refusing to leave the bathroom after following me in there when I went to pee. Why does this change anything?”

He shrugs, dropping whatever was in his arms, “It just doesn’t feel the same now, though.”

“Ooo, and now Mr Detective feels things.” She jokes, poking at his ribs.

He recoils, chuckling with her, “Only for you.”

As Y/N washes her hand, Sherlock begins to wrangle with a floorboard, clattering about until he eventually pulls out a small lock box, from which he withdraws a packet of brand new marks-and-spencer's ladies briefs.

“Why the fuck do you have these? Anything you wanna tell me?” she asks, eyes wide.

“John’s idea. He has plenty of girls over here who frequently stay the night, simply a precautionary error.” He takes a beat, gargling with some mouthwash, “they’re clean, new, I just don’t like the idea of you in dirty underwear, and I know how reluctant you are to go without them whenever you’re not in your own bed. I stayed with you enough nights in university to know that.”

Those nights were awfully painful. She’d take the floor, he’d take the bed, and every time she’d have to wash the sheets. He’d sweat and vomit, shake and cry, plead for the pain to be over. He wouldn’t go to hospital, he wouldn’t call his brother, he’d just turn up on her doorstep, high as a kite, almost in tears, knowing he’d gone a little too far. And each time, it was a little farther.

“Thank you, Sherlock.”

She takes them from him, and begins to shimmy them up her legs, only prevented by Sherlock moving to grab a handful of her arse.

“Hmm, I like this. Fancy another round?” He smirks.

“I’m too tired, babe. Give me a bit.”

He can see the lazy smile on her face, the tiredness in her pretty eyes, so he wets a flannel, and begins to clean her up with gentle movements between tender kisses.

“How do you know how to do all of this?” She asks, inquisitive more than anything.

“Instinct, I suppose. I never read or learned about it, seeing as I never thought it would happen.”

She snaps the waistband before moving her hands to his waist, leaning up onto her toes to reach him, kissing her softly.

“Look at you now.”

After brushing their teeth in an amicable silence, their pinky fingers overlapping on the porcelain of the sink, he aids her back to the bedroom, settling her on the bed. She has things here: deodorant, toothbrush, moisturiser, and yet somehow she doesn’t have underwear, even after all these years. Perhaps that's one too many things to explain…

With superfluous extravagance, he throws her his shirt, offering her a wry wink. She finds a blush clawing its way onto her cheeks, dumbfounded. It smells like him, just like a forest glade if it was rained on by tea and cigarettes. Maybe he’ll let her keep it as a memory.

In such a short amount of time, she’s learnt that he has a very sensitive neck. Very. A single kiss there has him biting back a moan. A low one at that, considering his deep voice also drops almost an octave when he’s aroused. His nipples are almost as sensitive as his neck, and he rather likes it when she tugs on them unwittingly.

His first orgasm comes quickly, but his refractory period is astonishing, and it takes longer to achieve a second high, long enough to make her come more than once, she assumes, though her first orgasm was mind blowing enough for two. Perhaps that’s just because it’s his first time, but it’s impressive nonetheless.

What’s the point in learning all of this if, once he comes around from his post-orgasmic haze, he’ll pretend like it never happened, in typical Sherlock style?

The shirt, though a small gesture, means a lot, and her vision begins to cloud as she looks down at the black cotton.

“You mean you want me to stay?” She croaks.

Sherlock turns to her from his set of drawers, his face full of apparent obviousness, brows furrowed in that cute bewildered way.

“Of course I want you to stay.” He states, like it’s the plainest thing in the world, like it’s stupid for her to even ask. But she’s silent, and when she says nothing in response, he launches into a long winded explanation: don’t show sentiment. “I- I just mean, i-it’s midnight, I’m not having you out in London alone. You stay with me. Only if you want to as well...”

She nods eagerly, “Yes. Yeah, course I want to stay.”

He all but leaps access the room, jumping onto the bed, before planting a proper smooch on her lips, grinning down at her. He slips into his usual side of the bed, and she takes hers, rolling to look at him.

“Don’t get cold.” He warns, tucking the duvet up around her shoulders. She giggles like a child, that small snort sounding again, prompting Sherlock to press his thumb to her nose like a button. “How are you… feeling?”

“I’m fine bub, really. That bloke doesn’t matter to me at all. Bit of a scumbag if I’m honest. You’re the one I’m with, the one I wanna talk about. How are you feeling? Must’ve been a pretty big blow up with John for you to call me and be so... teary.”

He sighs, crestfallen, “He called me a machine.”

Her gasp pierces the air, her hand flying to his hair, stroking in consolation, cooing senseless reassurances to him. She’s done this innumerable times, but now it feels different, like there’s no barrier.

“He’s done it so many times that it needn’t bother me anymore, but the way he looked at me, like I was this abhorrent monster, especially after the day and the disappointing case we had, it got to me. I hate having feelings.”

“You don’t have to hide them with me, though.”

He hums gently, burying into her chest. “I know. That’s why I treasure you so dearly.”

“That means you also have to trust me, and you’re not going to like what I have to say.” His chest heaves, shifting her whole body. That’s his way of giving in. “Please just talk to John. You know that whenever he leaves, he’ll come back, and try to pretend it never happened. He needs to know you’re human and that he upset you, but also that the case upset you as well. No one’s superhuman, and once you let John in on the fact that you’re not a machine, things between you will be so much easier, because you might agree for once.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He grumbles.

He pulls her into his warmth, hooking her leg around his as he snakes his arms around her back, breathing deeply from the crook of her shoulder. She begins to pepper kisses on his salty skin, savouring the taste with every small swipe of her tongue.

“Your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck,” he breaks off with a faint whimper when she sucks a little harder, “I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.”

“Of course they do,” she whispers brokenly, hoarsely, “they’ve always known you.” She swallows thickly, “Does that mean it’s a feeling you’ll forget?”

“No, I don’t think I ever can.”

The silent words that pass between them both are so special, too special to be spoken aloud. ‘Think I’m in love now.’

“Kiss me like you wanna be loved.” He begs.

And really, who is Y/N to deny him? They just stay that way a little while, revelling in their lazy kisses, until she begins to fall asleep. It isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep in his bed, not by any means, but it’s the first time she’s fallen asleep in his arms. She isn’t mad about it.

“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. You were made to keep my body warm.” She smiles into her words, and embeds herself into him, entirely covered by the duvet, spattered in his kisses, safe in his arms. Sherlock feels safe with her legs around him, her fingers in his curls, holding himself against her. Amicable silence is how they drift off, Peaceful.

John re-enters 221B at a respectable hour. He got a fair amount of sleep on Greg’s sofa, having no girlfriend in the picture right now, but not enough to deal with Sherlock just yet. Not before his coffee. He expects to see Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot as when he left, perhaps just with a refill of tea, his fingers still steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed yet wide awake. Instead, he arrives at a seemingly empty, considerably clean flat, with no Sherlock in sight. Perhaps the unsleeping man must actually be asleep, he thinks, so he quietens down, and toes off his shoes before wandering farther into the flat. Even if the man does piss him off extraordinary amounts, perhaps he should just check he’s okay…

He gives the bedroom door a quiet rap, listening in momentarily before pushing it open. Frankly, he’d rather have found Sherlock with a cigarette in hand and the whole flat torn to shreds for the level of surprise he gets upon reaching the bed. His first idea is to scream bloody murder, but that might annoy Mrs Hudson, and upon stepping closer, even in the sliver of daylight through the curtains, he sees the duvet riding down a little. The last thing in the world he ever thought he’d see: Sherlock in naught but boxers pressed against a half naked woman, his palm splayed on her bare thigh. Sherlock? Spooning? It seems so, his entire body pressed to this woman. John feels himself go rigid, his feet glued to the floor, his gaze unmoving from shock.

It takes his phone to buzz in his pocket to get him moving, and when he does, all he tries to do is balance precariously on his tip toes in a wry attempt to get a birds-eye view of the whole thing. He’s not disappointed, or disturbed, once he does, though, his army agility proving useful. Sherlock’s hand is holding her, fingers entwined, just next to her chest. He wonders how comfortable it is, but if they’re staying this way, it can’t be too bad. Maybe all Sherlock needed to loosen up was a good shag.

She’s wearing his shirt, too; Sherlock’s black dress shirt from the previous day. And Sherlock? He never seeps in anything less than a full set of pyjamas, he’s weird like that .

This girl begins to stir, her lips parting gently, small hums escaping. Next, her eyelids flutter, and her hair shifts on the pillow. He didn’t make any noise, did he? John was specifically careful not to, just in case. He doesn’t fancy Sherlock’s wrath just yet.

One eye opens, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “Hi John.”

How she knows his name and who he is, he’s not at all sure, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this face in his life. The hair is familiar, and maybe, if she were more awake, he’d recognise her smile, but he’s never seen a woman in Sherlock’s company beside Molly Hooper. Speaking of…

Before he can even say anything, though, before he can ask who she is or if she wants tea or if she date-raped his roommate, she’s mumbling, and detaching her hand from Sherlock’s, rolling over. Dumbfounded, John just stands there and watches her cuddle into Sherlock’s chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. Even in his sleep, not consciously thinking about his actions, he grips her back - one hand resting just above her bum, and buries his nose into her neck.

John can’t help but smile to himself. Maybe their fight was for the best if Sherlock now has a girlfriend, someone he turned to for solace. So, he grasps for the top of the duvet and pulls it up over both of their figures, reaching their shoulders, and leaves, staring wistfully for a brief moment at the seemingly happy couple.

The weight of the duvet of what startles Sherlock, though, stirring him a little, inviting him to him against Y/N’s skin, smiling with eyes barely open. This is really nice, he thinks to himself, not waking up alone.

She smiles back blearily, and in her morning voice, whispers to him, “Kiss me Mr Detective.”

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

Note

if you're taking ideas for harmless drabbles, i'd love to see one of bucky on one of those dates he mentioned and reader's shenanigans. if you aren't, feel free to ignore this!

a/n: are we really going to let a word limit define what a drabble is? is the vibe and spirit not enough? i say this bc this is 5.7k words long im so sorry. also hey thank you to everyone who piped in with their knowledge of violent geese and how apartment security works in new york!! also thanks to my bby @spiderrpcrker for reading this and telling me to publish this bc i wasnt going to fkjghfkj

warning: swearing, bad luck, dates, frustrated bucky, anxiety, mentions of gore but like only a sentence

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Catch up with the rest of the series here: Harmless Masterlist

Bucky returns only two weeks later. His mission lasted longer than expected and all he wants is to lie down and sleep for forty eight hours straight.

“FRIDAY?” he mumbles, kicking off his shoes. His jacket had already been discarded by his bedroom door when he walked in.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?”

“How are ya?” He doesn’t miss a beat in asking, even though he’s exhausted.

“As good as ever. Did you have a successful mission?”

“If by successful you mean one sprained limb instead of two, then yeah.” He wasn’t really cribbing. His ankle was already starting to heal anyway and it was worth the roundhouse kick to a Nazi's face. “Do I have anything scheduled for this weekend?”

“You have a meeting on your calendar scheduled for this Saturday.”

“Could you send a text to Y/N and ask if we can push it to the next day?” His muscles feel sore and God, he could definitely use a hot shower but all of that becomes secondary the minute he feels the sheets under him.

“Would you like me to reschedule the other one as well?”

“What’s that?” He opens one eye in confusion. “There’s another one?”

“It’s on Sunday. You’ve labelled it ‘date’.”

Ah, fuck.

“Would you like me to change it?” FRIDAY never sounds like she’s judging him, which is nice. It also reminds him about how she, as an AI, can’t judge him, which is a rude wake-up call to how he doesn’t have friends.

“No,” his voice is muffled against the pillow, “no, let it be. Where is it again?”

“You’ve only specified diner, Sergeant Barnes.”

Public space, daytime, plenty of escape routes. Good on his less delirious self for selecting a diner.

“Thanks, FRIDAY.” Now that he’s a little more relaxed, he can feel himself slip in and out of consciousness.

“One last thing," her automated voice commands his attention again. "Y/N replied. She says sure and to take care.”

“Yay.” Not even a second later he’s out like a light.

____

“Did you bring me any souvenirs?” Is the first thing he hears as he marches into your lair.

“What could I possibly get you?”

“A postcard, a t-shirt.” You don’t look up from your tinkering.

“Decapitated finger, used bullets,” he continues, “cement blocks.”

“Ew.” You snap the lid shut on the thing you’re working on, spinning around on your chair. "That's not nearly romantic enough."

“That’s all you’re going to get from a Russian underground bunker.” He does a mini jog up the stairs of the platform to where you are.

“Does the finger have a ring at lea- oh hello?” You raise an eyebrow at the sight of him. “You look different.”

He peers down. The outfit was still all black. As always.

“Not your clothes, dummy,” you interrupt, making him look back at you. “Your face. What’d you do?”

He unconsciously raises a hand to his cheek.

“Did you wash your face? Is that it?” you squint at him. “Has it been a few months since the last time?”

“Wow, you’re so funny,” he drawls sarcastically. “Top tier comedian right there.”

“No wait, it’s the beard.” You snap your fingers in realisation, completely ignoring his comment. “You trimmed it.”

“So what if I did?” He leans on your table.

“You going somewhere?” you ask, elastic snapping against your hands as you remove your gloves.

“It’s none of your busi-”

“Hold on a second.” A sly smile begins to make its way onto your face. “Are you going on a date, Bucky Barnes?”

His comeback dies down in his throat. That didn’t take you very long for you to figure out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You look smug, to say the least.

“Shut up.” A ray of light glistening distracts him. He traces it to the thing you were working on earlier.

“Where are you guys going?” You cross your arm across your chest, a small smirk on your face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” It’s a silver box, engraved intricately with swirls that, when he observes carefully, looks like a skull. Wow, terrifying.

“I’m literally asking you.”

“What are those?” He shifts the conversation towards a more productive angle instead.

“Evil in a box and some other stuff.” You shrug offhandedly. “Is it a lunch date or just coffee?”

“Like Pandora’s Box?”

“A discount version, sure,” you confirmed impatiently. “Stop changing the topic, listen to me.”

He tilts his head, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you need a chaperone?” The sincerity in your voice for such a bullshit question has him scoffing.

“Good God- no, I do not need a chaperone. I’m 106 years old, I can go out unsupervised.” He reaches over and plucks the box off your table.

“Sir, you’re a geriatric."

“What are those?” He points to a few ray odd ray guns.

“Minor stuff you don’t have to worry about right now.”

He shakes the box in his hand. “What’s gonna happen if I open this?”

“Very bad things,” you whispered ominously before your volume returns to normal. “How’d you meet this person? Online?”

“She’s Natasha’s friend.” He turns the box over, seeing a small latch at the side. “What bad things?”

“Bad luck and misery. Don’t play with it, it’s dangerous.” You pull the box away from him. “Aw, is it a blind date?”

“Why do you care so much?” he shoots back, tugging the box back towards him.

“Just lookin’ out for you, Bucko,” you huff, adjusting your grip on your device. “Need to keep my favourite senior citizen safe.”

“I have a vibranium arm.” Whose force he could use to grab the box once and for all, but wasn’t. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“What if she has one too, huh? Then what?”

“She doesn’t.” As far as he knows, he’s the only one alive with a metal appendage made out of the strongest metal in the world. That could very well change by tomorrow but he's keeping the title for now.

“But what if she does? I swear to- stop trying to take the box!” You pull a little more forcefully, but he doesn’t relent.

“I want this to get over before this evening.”

“What time’s your date?”

“Why do you care?” He’s sure anyone who saw the dumb tug-of-war you both were playing would just automatically assume he was an absolute manchild, not an Avenger.

“Because.” You don’t explain further. “Tell me what time your date is, you weirdo.”

“Five o’clock, now let go.”

“Fine,” you say, suddenly loosening your grip. Clearly, it doesn't make much of a difference since he isn't struggling to keep his balance from the sudden loss of force.

“Fine.” He clears his throat, straightening up.

You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.

A putrid smell creeps into his nose, one all too similar to spoiled milk and decaying seaweed. He has to physically stop himself from gagging.

“Have a good day.” You smile and lean far back. Too far. It looks like you're almost going to fall out of the chair.

Through the tears that are threatening to line his eyelids, he looks down at the box whose latch you somehow managed to lift, leaving the box open.

“What the fuck is this?” He coughs, swatting at the air in front of him to clear it.

“I told you; bad luck in a box.”

“You can’t scientifically create bad luck, that’s bullshit.” He tosses the box back onto your table. You watch it slide past you, not making any effort to stop it. “What is it really?”

“I’m not lying.” You pull open a drawer, brandishing a small table fan that you set down beside you. “If you open it, you’re going to have terrible luck for the day.”

He glowers at you when you turn the fan on, forcing the fumes back towards him.

“Besides, that’s all I was doing today.” You kick your feet up. “So you can leave now.”

He doesn’t care if you’re lying about not having anything else to do today. You could burn down the world if you wanted to but he needs to take a stupid shower. Again.

“You’re the fuckin’ worst.” He tries airing out his shirt, hoping that the smell would dissipate as soon as possible.

“Have fun on your date, sarge!” you encourage him as he stalks out of the lair. “Remember to wrap it befo-”

He turns it into a sprint before you can finish.

____

Six hours later and he’s absolutely convinced he fucked up.

He isn’t used to having his weekends free.

He realises that this is the first time in months that he’s actually stepped out of the Tower for something that wasn’t directly mission-related. He should probably get some air. Touch some grass. See the sun.

His shirt thankfully manages to rid itself of the odour from the dumb box so he didn’t have to go take a shower. With nothing much planned and a few hours to spare, he heads to the coffee shop instead.

It’s a small place, bustling and alive with a crowd of people. They have a little bookshelf that usually is full of books donated by patrons, free for anyone to read.

The barista smiles at him. The coffee costs more than his high school education. He awkwardly smiles back.

He’s not a regular, but they’ve seen him enough times to know that he usually asks for black coffee in a to-go cup, later adding a sugar or two according to his own taste. They're nice to him, occasionally throwing in a cookie or something on the house. He can't tell if it's because of the Avenger status or the sizeable tip he leaves.

He picks up a random book from the shelf, fully intending not to read it but to just sit there and think. The book acted as a shield for his resting bitch face, resting murder face and his resting rage face. More often than not, a good combination of the three.

He sets the coffee down at the corner table he manages to nab in a quick second, along with the two sachets of sugar.

“Is this seat taken?” Someone asks from beside him. He earnestly shakes his head in a ‘no’, gesturing for them to take it.

They give him a quick thanks and drag the chair away from his table.

He does a quick overlook of the book he picked up.

The Princess Diaries by Meg Cabot.

Well, now he’s too anxious to put it back. YA fiction it is.

He reaches for the sugar while glossing over the summary. He reaches a little further when it doesn’t come to his hand immediately, blindly running his fingers across the table.

Bucky peeks over the book, eyebrows knitting together when he notices that they’re missing.

He was sure he picked it up.

He looks underneath the table. It wasn’t there, neither under his seat. Strange, but okay. He picks up the book and the cup, walking back to the station to grab two sugars.

This time he makes sure to tuck it into his pocket, double-checking before going back to his table.

Which was now occupied. He wanted to groan.

His mind automatically reverts back to the box from that morning.

“Come on,” he scoffs quietly to himself. It was a coincidence. “Get yourself together.”

“A seat at the counter just cleared up,” the barista from earlier offers when she sees him standing in the middle of the store.

See? Good luck.

He shoots her a grateful look, venturing over to the barstool to take his place. It’s not the most comfortable, but then again, he wasn’t planning to stay there for very long.

He empties the sugar into the coffee, stirring slowly before opening a random page in the book.

He takes a long sip, ignoring how hot the drink was.

He chokes immediately. Because either he was losing his mind or his order had somehow got switched from ‘no sugar’ to ‘diabetes in a cup’.

He takes another small sip and his face immediately twists in disgust. Definitely too sweet. The sweetener he added only made it worse.

He catches the eye of the barista. She looks on in concern.

“Is everything okay?”

Fuck.

He’s not one to make a scene. He just wants to live as imperceptibly as he could.

“Yep.” The sweetness sticks to the back of his throat. “All good.”

He just closes his eyes and downs the rest of it without thinking twice, trying to hide the grimace in his face. He gives her a weak thumbs up. She doesn't look convinced.

He leaves the shop soon after, hands shoved in his pocket. Maybe he could go sit by the lake at Central Park, watch the clouds. It reminded Bucky of the lake in front of his hut in Wakanda and the hours he'd sit in front of it, feet dipped into the water as his goats fed. He misses it.

He makes a sharp turn at a corner, still thinking about his options when his ankle abruptly twists under him.

He stumbles rather ungracefully, almost hitting the ground, but manages to save himself through the newly built up immunity he has towards falling thanks to all his encounters with you.

His gaze lands on his hardcore combat boots. Their laces had come undone.

Now he just knew that was horseshit. He always double knots them; they had never loosened in the past before.

The box.

He shoves the thought out of his head, crouching down to tie them again. He tugs on them to make sure they’re secure before standing up again.

Central Park is a few blocks away but he’s glad he didn’t bring his bike. The weather was rather nice and the wind in his hair felt good.

He wanders around the park for a while, looking for the lake. He pauses at a board with a map of the park on it, assessing how far it was.

Once he's ascertained which path to go towards, he turns on his heel to go.

He fucking trips again.

“Are you serious?” he says furiously under his breath. “Cut it out.”

He’s half-convinced that he should tie it around his ankle like a sexy lace-up set of heels. He ties a triple knot this time, glares at it until he’s sure it’s fine and checks to see if anyone saw him humiliate himself.

Only a person on a nearby bench who looked like they were passed out drunk, given that their hoodie and sunglasses clad self was slumped over.

No witnesses. No 'You won't BELIEVE what the Winter Soldier did! Critics say it's his biggest blunder yet!' articles the next day on social media.

He manages to make it to the lake in one piece and no more falls, partly because he keeps his eyes fixed on his shoes to ensure no fuckery occurs.

There are a few people rowing and plenty of others lining the bank at scattered locations. There’s a mom and her kid at the place he ends up. She sends him a small smile in greeting and he returns the favour.

There’s a secluded bench that he takes a place on, letting out a small sigh. If he ignores the traffic and the skateboarders and the people in general, it’s actually kind of peaceful.

There are geese and their little goslings swimming around the water close to the shore. Maybe he should have brought some birdseed. Or kale.

The kid beside him is busy fashioning something out of leaves, only occasionally erupting into giggles when it doesn't pan out. His mom watches him fondly, pointing at twigs he could use. Everything seems kind of picture-perfect and his body automatically relaxes, easing further into the seat and closing his eyes for a second.

Until there's a large splash and loud distressed honking. He whips his head around to find the same kid staring straight ahead at the goose with a wide grin. His mother curses quietly, picking herself up off the ground and grabbing his hand, half chastising him for throwing something at an animal and half urging him to walk faster.

The goose turns to Bucky. With no one else to blame for the sudden attack, it logically launches itself at him. His smile drops.

He gets up in a rush. The dumb bird nearly comes for his head, but he deflects with his metal arm.

“I didn’t even do anything.” He swats at it swiftly, trying not to cause any real damage. The goose, understandably, does not speak English.

He flinches when one of them bites at his knee. He can punt it to the sun but he doesn’t want to.

“Stop that.” He sticks his hand out to shove the stupid thing away, retreating back to the road. “Jesus, why are you so aggressive?”

Among the barrage of feathers showering on him, he prays his damn shoelace doesn’t unravel as he shields his head with one arm, the other fending himself while he moves hurriedly away.

The goose honks angrily at him. He scowls at it, not exactly pleased with the reminder that these fucking overgrown ducks were constantly bloodthirsty.

It doesn’t leave him alone till he’s significantly away from where he was sitting. He wants to call it profanity but that’d probably piss it off more.

The box and its effects were definitely starting to feel real.

Fuck it, no more day out for him. The best plan he can think of is to just go to the diner he’s supposed to meet his date at.

The waiter greets him with a courteous nod, which Bucky can only imagine was the best he could muster when a dishevelled 200-pound man walks in covered in goose feathers and irritation.

He won't admit that he’s too scared to eat lunch at this point because he can’t rule out food poisoning. He spends the next two hours on his phone playing Fruit Ninja and plucking feathers that accented his all-black outfit.

Several glasses of water later and a second before he’s about to beat his high score, someone taps on his shoulder, breaking him out of his concentration.

Motherfu-

He clenches his eye shut, inhaling deeply before turning around.

“James?”

“Hey, yeah, that’s me.” Bucky almost falls over the table with how fast he stands up, clearly underestimating his size. “Leah?”

“Hi.” She smiles and he finds himself smiling nervously along with her.

“Hi.” He steps out to pull out her chair for her and she laughs. "Nice to meet you."

“How long have you been waiting here?” she asks while setting down her bag.

“Around ten minutes.” He clears his throat to hopefully hide the fact that he was lying through his teeth.

“Just give me a second, I need to tell my friend I reached,” Leah pulls out her phone and he nods.

“Another glass of water for you?” The waiter seems less enthusiastic about Bucky’s 8th refill.

“Yes,” he answers, hoping he doesn’t call him out on it, “please.”

“You must be really dehydrated."

Bucky turns to look at him slowly. “I like the taste.”

He can’t really blame the guy. Bucky’s been there for hours without ordering anything solid, just leaching off their free water and complimentary bread basket.

“So, James.” She tosses her phone back into her bag, leaning forward on her palms easily. “Tell me about yourself.”

He had rehearsed this a million times. He could do this.

“I, uh,-”

“Menu?” Okay, so someone clearly had a vendetta against him.

“Thank you.” She takes it with a smile.

His morning debacle with the coffee flashes through his mind. Suddenly the idea of a diner didn’t seem so smart.

However, she’s already placed her order and George is standing beside him expectantly, daring him to ask for another glass of water, so he places his usual order and hopes that your stupid bad luck thing wore off.

He quickly learns that his date is laid back, and it isn’t hard to fall into a rhythm with her even though she’s the one asking most of the questions.

“How’d you meet Nat?” Is his attempt at one.

“She used to come in for lunch every week at the place I work.” Leah leans back in her chair. “She can really handle her alcohol.”

He’d be worried about Nat day drinking if he didn’t know about her complete inability to get drunk. She might as well have been downing glasses of lemonade.

“Yeah, she’s-” Intimidating, scary, cool “-really something.”

“She mentioned that you like movies.” He definitely spends a lot of time watching them. “You got any recommendations?”

It’s easier to figure out how different things are or how much he missed out over the years through them. He’s glad he sat out the early 2000s, judging by their fashion sense and hairstyles.

He's watched several movies over the past few months, a few of them critically acclaimed and others who were just there for the cult following.

But now everything goes blank and the only thing that he can remember are the biopics made about Steve that were somehow hilarious for gifting him the mental image of Freddie Prinze Jr. dressed in the stars and stripes, and highly distressing for the number of historical inaccuracies. Contrary to popular belief, Stevie did not, in fact, consider running for president after he took up the shield, nor did he start his own bar chain.

He can’t name Oh Captain, My Captain starring Channing Tatum as his favourite movie on his first date and hope to make a good first impression.

“Despicable Me was kinda fun.” He wants to kill himself. “I mean, it’s the last one I saw.”

Her face twists in mild disgust, but he can tell it isn't ill-intentioned. “It's a good movie, but God, that just gave me some intense flashbacks to my aunt’s Facebook page. Don’t think I can look at a minion ever again.”

He sniggers with her. He doesn’t know what the context is.

He’s a little awkward, and he can definitely tell he isn’t the most open book but she laughs at some of his attempts at jokes. There’s a distinct discomfort he has lingering at the back of his mind prodding at him, telling him over and over again that he isn’t ready for something like this. A warning bell, asking him to leave as soon as possible because he was in a dangerous situation.

He remembers what his therapist told him about breathing and remembering that the resources he had available were greater than his anxiety and he tries to get out of his head. It takes a few minutes of acting like he's fine but he manages to do it.

Other than the one time he scalds his tongue on the coffee but played it off with a pained smile, shoving down thoughts of your stupid invention, things actually went okay.

It was nice, even though they decided by the end that it was better if they both gelled together better as friends. It lifts the strange fear he feels and he can hear Dr. Mendoza say she's proud of him for taking this step before spending three hours psychoanalysing why they decided to stay platonic.

Bucky promises to visit her sushi shop with Nat soon and she says a bottle of sake awaits him for a drinking game. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her that Nat and he share the same tolerance for alcohol.

He makes sure to leave George a tip. A big one. It’s the first time he sees the guy smile the entire evening.

He’s waving goodbye to Leah outside and he thinks that maybe it was a good end to the day and that things actually turned out fine.

Until he turns around to leave, only to have someone walk straight into him with an iced tea.

The cold comes as a bit of a shock, making him jump slightly. He stares at his shirt, using his fingertips to pull it away from his body.

The person melts into a series of apologies immediately, offering to dry clean his shirt but Bucky just forces a shake of his head and says it’s okay even though he can feel the sugar making the shirt stick to his chest. Goose feathers and iced tea. Was there anything else that would like to attach itself to him?

His fists clench and his teeth grit and he has to physically control himself from sprinting to your lair because God knows what else is in store for him and he didn't want to add in any way.

The door to the lair is locked. Fuckin’ brilliant.

When no one answers after minutes worth of waiting, he fishes for his phone and realises that maybe two hours of Fruit Ninja was not the best idea, especially on a phone known for having shitty battery life.

There’s roughly 2 percent left. By the time he opens his app to give you a call, his phone screen goes black.

He groans. He’s desperate at this point and under any other normal circumstances, he would have never, ever considered doing this.

But ten minutes later he’s outside your apartment building. You’re aware that he has your address; no doubt that it was in the SHIELD file he had gotten, and he knows that you know but it was still weird.

The buzzer has your last name listed next to it. He’s sure that he’ll break it if he keeps pressing it at this rate but he really needs you to let him in.

“Who the fu-” your voice comes through the intercom.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, my phone died and I couldn’t reach you,” He breathes out as soon as he hears you. “But I need you to fix this.”

When he doesn’t hear a reply, he wonders if the thing actually worked. He’s about to start pressing it again-

“Bucky?” You sound a little surprised to hear him. “You’re at my house. Why are you at my house?”

“I need you to fix whatever this is.”

“What are you- fine, I’m buzzing you in,” your voice, initially confused soon trails off into something more dismissive.

There’s a soft click from the door, allowing him to push it open. The elevator is already on the same floor as him so he just uses that.

The elevator goes up a floor or two. His feet tap restlessly against the carpeted floor.

The lights turn off and everything comes to a standstill. His foot stops tapping.

He should have known. He should have fucking known.

Thirty seconds pass. He’s still in pitch darkness with the elevator showing no signs of moving.

In fact, he’s resigned to his fate. He sits down on the ground, only one step away from completely laying down and hoping someone finds his body here someday.

It’s six minutes of plain silence. He might as well get comfortable if he’s going to get stuck here for the rest of his life. Did he change his will? Does he even have a will?

There’s finally a whir. He thinks that maybe he’s going to plummet to his doom as the perfect end to this day, but then the light switches on and it starts moving upward.

It stops at the floor with a ding. He doesn’t get off the ground, only eyes the door wearily. With his luck, it wouldn’t open.

But it does and within a second he’s on his feet, scrambling to get out before it changes its mind.

He remembers your door number, basically charging down the hall to get to it.

The door is white and the paint is starting to chip off it. The handle itself is dented in a few places and he wonders if it was your fault or someone else's.

His knocks are rapid, agitated even. He doesn’t stop until he hears your loud shouts telling him to cut it out.

“What the hell were you doing, trying to break down my door?” It swings open, revealing you in your pajamas. “Haven’t you done that already? And where were you, I’ve been waiting for like, ten minutes.”

He honestly feels bad for showing up uninvited and highly flustered. He can’t imagine it’s a pretty sight either. "This bad luck shit- fix it. My whole day’s been fucked up.”

“What are you-” Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking in his appearance.

It takes you a second to realise what he’s talking about but when you do, your face settles.

“How was your date?” You lean against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest.

“Really,” He glowered at you, “that’s what you care about?”

“Yes.” You nod. “Did you have fun?”

He hesitates. “I guess?”

“Was she nice?”

“Yeah.” Where was this going.

“Good, I’m happy for you.” The smile on your face is genuine. “Look at you go, Casanova.”

“We agreed to be just friends, but that’s not the point here. Y/N,” he whines. “I have a mission next week, I can’t afford to fuck up. My whole day was off and I don’t want it to carry over.”

“Your whole day?” you questioned, standing up instead of leaning against the wall. “Buck-”

“Just fix it.”

“Okay.” You lift your hand up, extending it towards his face.

He waits for you to do something.

You flick him on the forehead.

“There,” you declare, going back to your previous position. “you’re cured.”

What.

He says exactly what he’s thinking.

You laugh. “Dude. I was fucking with you.”

Huh?

“Well, actually maybe just like, three things and then I got bored.”

He’s confused.

“You know,” you begin when he doesn’t reply, “taking the sugar packets, switching your coffee order when you were looking under the table, took your place when you left, the shoelaces.”

“The shoelaces?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “That’s the other ray gun you saw this morning. Unties your shoelaces. I stopped after that because I thought you figured it out.”

His face scrunches in puzzlement.

“I mean, you looked right at me and told me to cut it out.”

He racks his brain about what you could possibly be talking about before it hits him. The hungover person on the goddamn bench in the park.

“You were the one in the hoodie and sunglasses.”

“I just followed the Avengers’ code of disguise.” You shrug. “Turns out it kinda works. Also teleportation. So helpful.”

He forgot about the teleportation. That's why you could do all of it so fast without him noticing you were even there.

“What about the fucking geese?”

You pause for a second. “The geese?”

“And the elevator.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The confusion on your face is apparent. “What geese and elevator? I have no idea what you’re saying right now.”

“Everything’s been a mess today,” he grumbles. “I don’t know what’s real or not.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it other than what I mentioned.” There’s indignation on your features that quickly gives way to delight. “Holy shit, did I just accidentally invent portable bad luck?”

“Okay-” his palm finds its way to his forehead in exasperation, “-then what the hell was the smell?”

“What smell- oh, the one from the box?”

He nods briskly.

“Secretions Magnifique.” You snorted. “It’s a perfume. The worst rated one I could find.”

“Perfume?”

“With notes of milk, seaweed and sandalwood.”

“It wasn’t an inator?”

“No, it wasn- did you get vibe checked by a goose at the park?” You stifle a laugh when you notice a stray feather on his thigh.

“What does that even mean?” he asks in despair.

“I can see why it attacked you. You got bad juju.” You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe if you stop staring so much-”

“So I just have shit luck.” Is that a fucking relief or even worse?

“Well,” you begin but decide not to continue.

Even with all the irritability masking it, you could see that he genuinely was just not having a good time.

“Wait here a second.”

You leave him at the door. He shifts his balance and sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. He still had to walk back to the Tower. Maybe he could grab a slice of pizza along the way since he skipped lunch.

“Okay, here.” You return with a large glass of water. He only looks at it. “It’s just water, I promise. You look like you ran a marathon."

He takes it from you sceptically, pushing away the urge to sniff at it. It’s gone within a few gulps.

You wait until he’s finished to point at his arm. He draws his eyebrows together, but you only curl your index finger and beckon for him to give you his hand.

He reluctantly extends it towards you.

“Don’t laugh,” you warn him, taking his metal arm. “This usually helps me.”

You tie a small bracelet around his wrist. It has a few beads, which he realises represent the colours of the solar system.

“Keep that for good luck.” You pat it gently after securing it. “I think you just had a bad day; those don’t last very long. Do you want to charge your phone before you leave?”

“Uh-” The bracelet’s pretty, the colours shine against the dark vibranium. “-no, I’m good. I’ll just leave.”

“Okay. Anything else I can help you with or will you be fine?”

He narrows his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice.”

“I’m not evil all the time.” You huff. “My hours are in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he says again. “I’m gonna go then.”

“See you next week.” You give him a little wave. “I’d say break a leg on your mission but knowing your situation...”

He scoffs. “Thanks.”

You make a move to close the door when starts walking down the hallway towards the exit.

He adjusts the beads slightly so he can see them better. The Earth one has glitter in it. He thinks it’s cute.

“Bucky.”

He turns around.

There’s a hint of a smile on your face.

“Take the stairs.”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years ago

Text

DENTIST THE BAD BOI

Word count: 7k

A/N: Heavily inspired from 90's rom-coms, so if your heart swoons out of loneliness it's not on me sistas -- doctor Harry my fav.

Summary: Harry's a med-student and Y/N's an art student, being neighbours with Y/N was already a living hell for Harry but when she fusses over his cat getting her cat pregnant -- he mighty looses it.

Pairing: Dentist Harry × Artist reader, Frenemies to bestfriends to lovers, platonic affection and loads of bestie fluff.

MASTERLIST, REQUEST FOR BLURBS FROM THIS FIC ARE OPEN || PART 2

“Harryyyyy!!!!” Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs staring at the small picture of ultrasound, blinking at it several times to vision herself back into reality because the more she does the more she becomes grumpy and fussy – cursing the beast of a neighbour who got her little innocent cat pregnant.

She pulled the strings of her pyjama shorts to tighten it around her and hastily towed her feet into fuzzy slippers, giving a stink of an eye to her cat “don't act so surprised you little ragamuffin!” She mouthed at her with venom (as if trippers her cat cares), stomping her way out and writes a whole book of judgements in her rattling brain upon hearing the loud music weeping through walls.

She knocks. Huffs when it goes unnoticed and this time pounds at the door, crossing her forearms infront of her chest. Not unaware and very accustomed; of happy chatter whirling around whenever she’s trying to focus how a certain recipe goes by, his mates chanting his name from outside when he’s too occupied in whatever he's sorting out inside for their arrival, clanking of beer bottles knowing they and her have a long time to go, the music dimming in the wee of night as the door closes after every fifteen minutes and it dawns at that time –-- she always get left with one option and that’s to curse him till she sleeps.

It’s every Friday and Saturday’s story.

“Max stop that before Ni asks fo’ a dummy —-,” His neck's craned to where his friends are sitting on one of the cosy spots. His jaw popping, dimples chasmic from the smirk he’s holding and Y/N gulps then arches her brow when his attention drops down at her, “Oh .... hi, could help ya?” His cocky grin irks her – bubbling a fire in her pit and an urge to twinge his ear and drag him to her apartment, to show him what he did.

“Could you help me!?” She laughs ironically, chases her frowning gaze from the ripped patches of his jeans towards where his curls are brushing his earlobes and it kind of makes her gasp which she traps in fortunately because – he’s always wearing a hoodie, beanie or his hair up in a little fountain like bun rushing through the lobby with his thick books and laptop clutched in his arms, “Yes please .. y’could help me by transferring expenses of your cat's babies every month to me —-...um could simply have them in your apartment too if the first deal’s too bad.” She shrugs. Taking a glimpse from his shoulder of his friends bunched over eachother and he toys with his bottom wet lip, brows stringing into confusion and his bicep flexes making her flutter her eyes away as he grips the knob of the door and closes it behind him.

“What d'ya mean?”

“You’re doing it on purpose right? ‘cos there’s no way —--” He cuts her groans with a snap and runs a palm down his face, “I seriously don’t know what you’re talkin' ‘bout, Y/N.” His lips tinned into a flat line, his posture now resembling her's and she slaps her forehead with the heel of her palm.

“Then you should keep tabs of your beasty minx of a cat who got my cat pregnant!” She exclaims disbelievingly to which his eyes turns saucer and he throws his sinewy arms in between them, mimics her expressions comically, “Is that my fault? Did I get your cat prego?” She blinks up at him rapidly --- he’s such a nerve puller.

“Yes it is! You didn’t get your cat desexed —-,” She stuffs her pointer against his chest and twist it with a grit, “Now he’ll have babies left and right – like a catwhore he is!!” She aerials her hands in different directions rapidly and he takes a step closer kissing his teeth together to seethe his words.

“He’s not a catwhore!”

“Kay then take the responsibility of what he did.” She mutters tapping her foot onto the carpeted floor and guppies at him like a fish when he bursts into taunting cackles, leaning to catch the door-frame before he mushes her under his weight. ”

“Ye -‐..- you’re —- you aren’t serious are ya?” His rosy eyelids snib tightly forming crinkles to where his temples meet his cheeks and she almost pouts, how much she doesn’t want to she could never cascade her expressions.

“Oh my — .... Bambi eyed wouldn’t I’ave had free him of his ball’s heaviness –-- if I’d ‘ave enough money down me pocket?” He scrunches his nose to take a breather from laughing hard.

“Don’t call me that!” She bites at him.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” He smirks gingerly – drums his fingers against his folded bicep and presses his back to the wall tipping his chin high.

Her blush eager to creep up her neck embarrasses her further more and she hides the softness in her voice, muttering gruffly, “Shut up.” Then turns to walk back into her apartment and to slam the door at his face -- but -- his whistle for her halts her in tracks.

“Hey – Bambi, we could sign the custody of kitties if that what ye'want.”

Three weeks after. There was another knock on Harry’s door, Niall's head perks up and bangs against the bookshelf –- he was trying to keep the furry cat in his lap, for a good warmer but its more enamoured with the ‘clucks' of his daddy’s boots than the soft flesh of Niall’s thigh as Harry chucks his wallet in the back-pocket of his jeans (he was about to go outside and bring some food) and opens the door slightly to see through the trapping chain, “who’s it?”

“Harry ‘s me ....” The voice mousey and worried. Niall recognizes it in a hot-second, frowns and tries to gain snowy’s attention, “What did y'do again? Did ya get the pretty neighbour's cat prego twice, you fat farts.” He chuckles when snowy meows at him innocently and Harry's brows skews together into a scowl.

“Call him fat farts another time —- I dare you —--,” He howls. Throwing angry upset glares towards Niall – their bickering gets interrupted when Y/N slips her hand from the crack of door, pinches Harry’s knuckles and he squeaks, “Ow —- what the fuck!”

“Harry.” Her tone threatening.

Harry puffs out a huge sigh and reveals himself infront of her, he's not in mood to fight with her over their cats, or the parcel Harry forgot to give her which got delivered to him on accident like one of the thousand times (he never found anything freakish until now .. not that he goes through what’s inside, but the labels tell they’re mostly her art supplies), or why he’s been showering for an hour because she now isn’t left with any warm water —- because he just came back from UNI and is dust bones from having two exams in a row.

“Y/N —-,” His face reeks with exhaustion. His curls drowsy, escaping from his knit beanie and his eyes glazed with sea-foam. She kinda feels bad for disturbing him -- but – it’s an emergency and she doesn’t know where to go, except him.

His weary vision falls upon trippers tucked beneath Y/N’s arm, “Is she alright?” He scratches behind her ear and trippers gives out a pained yowl.

“No –-.. that’s why ‘m here. She’s spotting blood everywhere and –-- and I don’t have enough money ...,” She’s embarrassed to say least. Not meeting Harry’s eyes and he gazes her sincerely –- belly doing weirdly funny somersaults. He clears his throat, grogs out gathering all the information in his head from the anatomy of humans and animals he studied till now.

“It’s okay for spotting in pregnancies – but ‐-.. she looks very much in pain s' we shouldn’t risk it. I’ve a friend. She’s practicing vet -- we could take her there.” He offers. Rubbing the back of his neck and Y/N bobs her head vigorously, anything to save her trippers baby.

“Fine –-- yeah, Iemme just wear my shoes ... then we're good to go.” She mumbles. Harry hasn’t seen her demeanour flatter like this ever before, whenever she’s banging and barging through his flat it’s always taut and cold banter.

He has never seen her this defenceless.

He drops his gaze down at her feet and finds that she’s wearing cute pizza slices socksies.

“Is this a clinic, or weed doing zone for animals?” She didn’t try to be mean. It just happened as she takes in the wearbouts of garage, stuffed with drums and musical instruments, spray paint on walls. Harry seems unfazed though, he could be shabbier than her if he wants to –- much fouler that could make her cry.

“Told you. She’s practicing not a vet yet.” She doesn’t question him further. Grateful enough for his help. She might not admit but he isn’t that bad of guy as she once imagined him in her head.

Y/N stifles a snort when a girl with mullet shag, having a stud in her brow and the corner of her lip, attired in all black greets Harry with a hip-check, “Vas’up booger.” She grins and Harry grumbles ruffling her hair with his knuckles.

It leaves Y/N in awe. This’s what group of friends look like -- so fun and annoying, she wanted to have this since when she’s small. Sadly, it’s just her and trippers in her friend group.

“Hi there!” She waves to Y/N trying to battle Harry’s tickles away. Takes trippers from Y/N's arms and coos up at her, “hiyaa baby .. oh, she’s having lil buns inside her.” She laughs and Y/N already likes her so much. As if, she’s the main character of any vintage styled movie.

“Rori here.” She introduces herself as Harry strolls inside her kitchen to rummage through her fridge, “Y/N.” Y/N smiles –-- eyeing Harry who’s whistling and tearing the crate of orange juice open.

When Trippers purrs from a cramp, Rori snuggles her closer to herself – “Her spotting is nothing to worry about –-- maybe she’s ready to give birth. If not I’ll take her to my hospital.”

“So Harry said...” Y/N nods.

“Oohh.” Rori exclaims, wiggling her brows curiously at Harry who’s gulping down juice hungrily, “Booger got normal friends too? Thought, those were all white lies.” He almost chokes at it – downing it cautiously and blinks vividly.

“No. Just neighbours.” Yeah, there’s nothing friendly between them –-- but how it’d be like to befriend Harry. The thought makes Y/N feel snoozy and warm.

“I see.”

“Okay then! ‘m gonna keep Trippers with me for two days –-- figure out what I could do to help her and if she heals I’ll drop her by, how that sounds?”

“Sounds good!” Both, Harry and Y/N chimes together heating their cheeks up. Harry wavers his gaze away, sulking a pouty mouth and turns all stoic again.

He doesn’t want to like, Y/N. Nope. Not at all. In any case.

She’s his bedevilling, bothersome and galling neighbour who just screams at him too much for his likening.

“Would you like something to eat?” She asks him while walking back home and he shakes his head, so she nudges him in ribs, “oh c'mon let it be a thank you, grumpy pants.”

“’M not –-,” He was about to snap at her. Instead, he groped her wrist tightly and tugged her to his side –-- she squeals into his chest as a car passes by them swiftly, honking at them in anger.

Her hair wisps from the friction of Harry’s hoodie as she pushes herself away from him, surprisingly he smells incredibly sweet – that of vanilla and citrus musk, something very cosy and like a morning breeze.

A jolt buzzes through her spine at the fact she was about to get crushed under a vehicle but she grins up at him awkwardly, “Tofu then?” His peepers widen in shock and he slaps his forehead.

“You’re mad, know that.”

Harry and Y/N. Sky and earth . She sprouts buds of irises and peonies when she speaks, her touch that shines away even an intimidating person as if they're mimosa plants, those eyes --- those eyes are itself sepia of grounds on which the tiny creatures celebrates by and Harry's well ... he’s the floss of clouds hidden behind sunshine, his rains would turn her into loam and his uppish thunder would make her loathe him.

Then some gods decided to break the needles and fix it in some other clock that rotates anti-clock wise.

Now, when she’s unable to nourish her flowers he's always there to rain and stroke a tender breeze against her that makes her lush grass snuggle the roots of who she’s.

They were enemies once. Opposite to eachother in many ways but couldn’t live without eachother despite of their distances. Just like sky's a hollow sheet of nothingness without it’s dear earth.

What blossomed their friendship was Y/N's date with this cute boy that is in her ceramic class, (not a date if you’d ask so –-- more like a meetup at this coffee house near her UNI).

Turns out he isn’t that cute. His blunt hands wandered up Y/N’s thigh without her consent and before she could know that, he was groping at it –-- making her gasp and hit her knee against the table. She struggles to writhe out of the chair but he stitches his nails in her skin, “I’m not liking it – you better stop.” She hisses, palms sweaty and slipping trying to remove his grip from around her.

“Don’t act all stupid .. you were hitting at me for hours, you want it but wouldn’t admit.” He groans, rolling his eyes and she feels like crying –-- teeth clanking letting out a shuddering breath.

“I’ll scream.” She warns him.

“You’re not that innocent, you act like.” He smirks, sliding his hand down her insides and before he could reach further Y/N sneaked a fork from the table and stabbed it in his knuckles.

“Fuck.” He shrieks, “Bitch.” He almost screams but stops when everyone stares at him as Y/N’s chair fell against the floor and she stumbles inside the bathroom.

Locking it behind her. Her chest burns with tears. Her vision spins and her fingers shakes as she dials one number she could reach for anytime, it rings then goes to voicemail so her bitten lip wobbles and eyes turn glossy.

She again dials it. There’re noises behind, that of someone instructing and Harry was in his lecture hall when she called .. his heart drops because all he could hear is quivering breath ... it shudders to tight painful gasps and he’s collecting his stuff leaving his seat immediately the doctor who's teaching them Apiceoctomy stares Harry while speaking.

Once he’s out in hallway, “Hey? Y/n are y’there? You okay? What happened?” She bolt her eyes close pressing her head to cold tiled wall and yawps outta fear when someone pounds at the door. Harry runs towards the exist, “Y/N where are you!? ‘m coming .. whatever it’s just --.. just ...” He gripes at his curls pushing them back – his heart beating loud, “ – just stay where you’re ‘n don’t panic .. yeah? It’s okay.” He mutters. Voice soft and assuring.

Her breathing patterns back to calmness – something about him so consoling, so warm and she nods. After some minutes she’s telling him the address and gladly it’s not that far away from Harry.

When he reaches. There are several people waiting at the bathrooms door and he’s knocking on it lightly, pressing his ear to it and grabs the knob (in case he’d have to break it).

When there’s no-response from inside he gets it something’s peculiar, “Bambi. ‘s me Harry.” It clicks and unlocks and he’s tumbling inside while the others groans and disperses knowing it’s invain waiting.

He’s dishevelled. His curls in moppy condition and his eyes full of concern and worry –-- she feels awful for doing this to him.

“Were you crying? Did somethin' happen?” He frowns. Ducking a bit to meet her gaze level and she clears the clump in her throat, “Can we just leave .. please?” He couldn’t believe it’s her voice – the bubbliness and chirpiness of it died to frightened meekness.

Harry takes her hand and walks them outside, Y/N sucks in squeak when the same guy rushes to confront them and when Harry sees his injured hand -- everything pieces together and fury spikes through his veins.

His brows pinches together into a frown, his lips lifting into a scowl and his eyes darkens pitch coal like.

He grips her dainty fingers and moves her behind him protectively and his chest buffs out as he takes a step forward towering the guy – “What d'ya want?” He kisses his teeth together to grit vehemence and that guy lift his trembling hand infront of Harry.

“Look what this bitch —-,” Ah –-- he really pushed Harry’s bad button didn’t he?

Harry grabs him from collar and Y/N squeals rubbing his wrist to pull him back, no-use.

“Badmouth her or anyone —-" Harry sneers and if he'd be a cartoon character – fume would have been coming out of his ears and nose.

“Else what!?” Harry’s more of a practical person -- so he did what he's been learning for years now and breaks his nose with such force it almost knocks him out.

Y/N's still in shock. Walking behind him on jelly toes and a shiver spirals in her bone marrow when her sweat dries from the wind that’s blowing and hitting them in faces.

They wait at bus shelter, sitting side by side –-- thighs brushing now and then flustering Y/N, Moreso when he apologizes everytime.

There’s silence. Harry’s irritated groan breaks it –- he clenches and unclenches his knuckles .. the thin skin a bit bruised.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry –-- .. ‘s my fault.” She rambles. Taking his hand to inspect it, “I shouldn’t have called you at ---..” He frowns confused and pokes her in knee conveying her to stop worrying. Because if anyone needs to be taken care of is her and wish he could just hug her and tell her that it’s not her fault – not even a tad.

“Y/n...” He gains her attention and his gaze flickers from her snotty nose towards her soaky cheeks, “Shut up.” She chuckles at that putting his palm gently back on his thigh.

“Would you like to have, noodles? I know this incredible chinese place ...” He shakes his head. His smile small and kooky, nose scrunched up as he sniffs the air – predicting a rain coming soon.

“D'we have to eat after every tragedy that happens t’you?”

“Yup, tragedies makes me hungry.” It’s her coping mechanism if she'll be honest and that’s what she’s been doing for ages.

“Who are you, Y/N?

She jumps up. Wiggling her fingers for him to take and beams sweetly, “Bambi next door?”

“From when did ya become s' rich?” He giggles. He finds her fucking adorable as she drags him along herself excitedly – she halts infront of the expensive restaurant –- where people dressed in all kind of luxuries and bright pearls are dinning in and she arches her brow sceptically, “Did you really think –- I’ll be able to take us here?” He shoves his hands in his jeans pocket, elevates his shoulders and smiles bashfully.

“Maybe one day, who knows?” They walk towards the chinese take out and Y/N trots backwards –-- facing him all while and rolls her eyes, “’M an artist whose half of paintings goes to trash.” Harry’s eyeballs springs out of his sockets hearing her statement and he really wants to knock some senses into this silly girl.

“Oh my --.. jeez .. those paintings are ‘s good y'divvy. They're hanging onto my walls, been enjoying them fo' free —- what the actual fuck .. really your hands are magical.” He feels annoyed and sad that she felt a need to dump them, because those were some beautiful art pieces.

(“Hmm. It has some hidden meaning beneath it, H. I’m tellin' ya.” Ni would always say. Standing infront of it for hours and hours staring at it.

“Looks like a pussy to me.” Max would quip sipping his bevy and Harry would smack him in head, “Guys how ‘bout we just see it like a fuckin' painting.” He'd grumble focusing back on his books.)

“Really?” She asks shyly and he bobs his head, “Guess you could just keep them then ...” She grins up at him taking the boxes from the cashier.

“Where are we going?”

“You’d see yourself.” She sing-songs galloping over the muddy potholes and Harry looks funny doing it with his spider long legs. Their footsteps echoes in the empty warehouse and Harry didn’t expect her to be the person – that loves finding weird places and spend time there.

“Careful there.” He murmurs. Pressing a hand to her waist when she wobbles on her feet climbing the metal stairs and Harry thinks if she was this clumsy all along or it’s from what happened at the coffee house.

“Holy shit!” He cups a hand around his mouth as the traffic bustles down on the street, “You afraid of heights?” She glances back at him from where she’s standing on the cemented edge.

“Matters. If we're about to act silly and jump, then yes.”

Warmth worms up at his chest and his adam apple bobs, he barks out a laugh when she giggles demanding him to come closer to her, “Come here then you dentist the bad boi.” He tugs the fabric of his jeans from his crotch and hikes his one knee up sitting beside her, other leg swinging in air.

He listens to her hums and happy sounds as she slurps the long noodle inside her mouth, “What you’re afraid of then Harry?” Her question catches him off-guard. Nobody has ever asked what his fears are and he might be famous for an intimidating personality just because he speaks less and owns a roaring bullet –-- he’s still very nice to talk to, but he'd rather spend his time with snowy than waste his time on orgy parties.

“Snowy’s funky farts -- they're ‘orrible!! have to leave the flat fo’ a minute.” He grins when Y/N’s head lulls back and she laughs gleefully, rolling into his side to support herself, “Oh no!” She whines when her chopsticks falls and drops onto the road poorly.

“We can share mine.” He hands her his chopsticks and she thanks him timidly, “What d'you fear?” They pass it back and forth –- his lips wrapping around them as he takes a chunky bite.

Harry tries to down the food that got stuck in his throat when she said nonchalantly, “Dying alone I guess?” He chews the veggies, grimaces and shakes his head -- puts his hand over her knee squeezing it kind-heartedly.

“You’ll not.” She feels like every tulip of light around her’s sparkling – the buzz of having his company tingling her in good way, “Promise?” She asks and Harry lifts his pinky in between them encouraging her to bring her's.

She wasn’t serious about the promise thing it was more onto sarcastic side than to sincerity.

“Promise.” His dimples caters deep and his eyes crinkles when different golden lights dances against her skin making her look prettier than she’s.

He’s gonna fulfill his promise.

Y/N could be sentimental given on occasions and how bad the situation’s – but she bottles it up for good amount until later, it all crushes her completely and she’s unable to stand back.

Now, when there’s eerie quietness in the bus and the world infront of her fades behind in weird shapes and forms in her head because of the speed of vehicle – her mind thought it’d be best time to remorse over what happened to her and her eyes well up at that.

Harry plucks his headphones down upon hearing her soft sniffles and turns her towards him with her shoulder, “Y/N hey ....” His voice tender and dewy as he slides his palm under her jaw and cups her cheek to wipe out her tears with the mild stroke of his thumb.

His gentleness rakes out an agonising sob from inside her and she feels like her organs are clashing together.

“Shh. Bambi you’re okay now, ‘s alright you’re here with me -- shh, ‘m so sorry love —- but it’s over now, yeah? We're going home and I’ll make you chamomile tea, could ‘ve both snowy and trippers cuddle with you while I’ll get you all warm and nice inside this new fluffy blanket I just bought! – how does that sound?” He pets her hair. Brings her closer to his chest and she keeps her nose tucked against his clavicles to stop from crying and make a show.

When she nods, suckling a wet breath he swipes a loose errand of her hair behind, “Sounds good yeah?” She just hums snuggling into him.

Her arms slowly loops around his love-handles and he stows her head under his chin -- rubs her back in circles to soothe the stiff muscles, covers her ears with the headphones he was wearing before – plays acoustic version of Landslide by Fleetwood Mac and simpers when she hiccups his name, but doesn’t respond when he answers – his ears turns pink from fond and his belly overglows with butterflies as she babbles his name till she drops into peaceful sleep.

Y/N found herself in his bed with snowy and trippers ontop of her and Harry snoring on the couch – his gangly limbs not fitting at all.

She really wanted to call him and sleep on his bed, but she drowses back to slumber.

“Grumpy jerk and an actual ray of sunshine. Sorry, couldn’t process it – too much.” Rori teased Harry the last time they gathered and Y/N was there too! though the true statement was claimed after her departure.

Harry’s friends couldn’t believe that he stepped out of his comfort zone and made a new cute friend, now after one year of their friendship it doesn’t feel like they’re neighbours anymore –-- it's just one big home with an alleyway in between.

“What're y'doin', moppet?” Harry chuckles picking up the half eaten packet of crisps, chewy sour candies, wrappers of oreos and the romcom CDs they were playing before.

Y/N's sprawled on her tummy. Feetsie in air and her chin secured in her palm as she looks like she’s seriously about to take an admission in med school –-- she’s concentrating real hard on the thick book under her, eyes fixated on the diagrams of teeth – it makes Harry laugh like a maniac.

“Aish. Your books, gives me an ache.” She massages her forehead, shakes her head as if she tasted something icky and pushes his book away. Harry laughs harder at her antics wrappers flying away from his grasp and he flops onto couch –-- thighs spreading wide and back sinking into the cushions.

“Where?” His lips rumbles as he tries to hold back another fits of laughter when she gets his dirty joke and pouts, lips fluttering into a smile until she bursts into giggles joining him.

“Nope. My cookie doesn’t throb like it used to sneaking on reproduction chapters in biology.” Harry roars out a cackle at that and Y/N grins fiddling with the frizz of her socks, “Heyyyy it’s not funny –- very much sad.”

He suckles a breath in, their grins achy and big, “Stuff your cookie with some jam ‘n you'll be alright.”

“You’re gross!” She fake gags. Hunches over to exaggerate the severity and scares the shit out of Harry when she gasps loudly slapping his knee, “Harry! Harry! Oh my gosh.....ahhhh!” She gallops like a bunny towards the window and gazes up at the sky with glinting eyes, “Harry look! It’s snowing.” He trots behind her with a roll of eyes knowing what’s about to come next.

When she turns around with sparkly grin, hands clasped atop her chest and tippy-toes to beg him, Harry shuts his lids, “No Muffy.” Y/N loves eating chocolate muffins –-- eating them whenever she could possibly ... and that’s how the pet name Harry decided to call her was muffy.

“Please, it would be so fun .. we could have hot chocolate afterwards.” She mumbles tugging at the hem of his chunky yarn sweater.

“Nothing’s fun about snow angles, Muffyyyy!!” He whines. Squinting down at her with one eye and finds her all slumpy, head falling downwards.

“Okie then. ‘m going to sleep.” She mutters in a meek voice pushing past him –-- but he wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls her back to himself, chuckling with wide eyes, “You’re very dramatic and annoyin’ y’know that?”

Instead, she grins bobbing her head shamelessly, pats his chest and dashes to wear his warm jacket, “Biscuits on you -- hot chocolate on me.” She tells him slipping into her shoes with the support of doorframe.

He comes closer to her and her heart thuds into her tiny ribs as he zips his jacket she’s wearing up till her neck and warns her while pulling out her hair, “If I get sick – ‘m gettin'y sick too.”

Harry’s waiting outside the candy shop Y/N just barged in moments ago. He refused to step inside – knowing she’ll use him as a taste tester and at the end of the day his tongue would have a mountain sugar atop his taste buds.

The spring breeze flowery and warm. He shakes his head, smiles softly watching her switch aisles and guffaws loudly catching attention of an old couple siting on the bench behind -- at her eagerness when she started chomping onto the long chewy candy right after getting it from the cashier.

“That’s g'na rot your teeth even before your forties.” He tells her taking the small bag from her and walks beside her, “Your kids are gonna hate you ...” She tells him –- stretching out the candy with her teeth.

“You sure, y'were allowed colas and candies in childhood?” He teases her prodding her side so she throws it at his chest making him laugh and he bends down to pick it up and dump it in bin.

“You’ve got a cute bum.” She whistles and Harry’s cheeks bashes with blush – turns around and wiggles herself, “How's mine?” She hums glancing back at him with cheeky grin.

“Ten by two, I guess?” He bites down a smirk when she spins to face him a bit gobsmacked, “Not even five?” She grumps chin doubling as she tries to see her bum herself.

“Six then?” He giggles enjoying how she’s getting riled up out of nowhere and she stomps away from him so he jogs to catch her, “Bambi. Was kiddin'.”

“You owe me two muffins with the amount of insults you’ve caused my poor bum.” He knuckles at her hair and she slaps him away like a feisty kitten, “I take it back –-- you’re really ten by two.”

“Oi!!!” Now, she’s running behind him. His curls blowing away and his coat ruffling with the zephyr, his head falling back with the belly-ache laughter that bounces against the bricked walls of shops.

It’s Friday night. Y/N is doing her laundry. Plucking out Harry’s socks from Trippers furry ear, her kitties sleeping in bassinet. Harry and Y/N have named them Tum, Tug and Truggers –-- she sits back on her heels upon hearing her door closing and hikes the small basket on her hip trudging outside —-- she didn’t had any clothes that could make her feel warm during these days – even her socks were all soggy -- so was Harry’s, now all she’s gonna do is make a blanket fort and hide in it for hours.

She knuckles at her eyes, blinking the tiredness away to see properly who’s standing in the middle of room, “Harry?” He's wearing a graduation gown and tips his hat with a sheepish smile then waves his degree infront of her, “Guess who's a proper dentist now!?” She’s frozen to her spot –- jaw slacked and eyes blown away in surprise.

“Your bad boi!” The basket falls from her hip onto the floor scaring Trippers and she whispers an, “Oh my goodness.” Before, stumbling towards him and crashes in his arms giving him a tight loving hug. He slinks his forearms around her and squishes his face into the crook of her neck, lips tickling her skin and if it was possible for him to freeze the time and cherish it for some more he'd.

“I’m so proud of you.” She mumbles into him with a grin. He feels so worthy and every hardship he faced now feels like nothing, this's how life supposed be throughout –- but best things always bores fruit for the right time.

“How about we celebrate? Just you and me.” Just you and me. It feels nice to just her and him. Makes her heart swoon. Makes her feel like skies outside are wet and pink, “Umm .. can we celebrate here? It’s okay .... “ She shifts on her feet and he furrows his brows in confusion, lips ticked up as if he’s scrutinizing her.

“You and not goin' nutters for an outing .. seems odd —-,” Then his eyes falls over the surrounding, a heating pad beside his feet – aloe fused socks hanging to get dry, a tray of chocolate muffins, kettle on the coffee table so he puts one and one together himself.

“Oh muffy —-... pizza and cuddles then?” If he wouldn’t be aware of how first few days of her period are hell for her then who would? He’s always making her pot meals and curry rice – feeds her and gets all strict when she refuses to eat anything. She looses her appetite and transforms into something ‘if zombie had a baby with vampire -- it sure looked like you’ he'd always scold her.

Even bribe her with candies. Once they were awfully painful and Y/N really didn’t want to be all dramatic not when their friends were having a good time, she doesn’t like to be a party pooper.

But, when a stinging cramp cut through her pelvis and thighs she was hunching forward with a jolt -- all teary eyes and wobbly lips. Harry left everything and rushed towards her, sitting on his knees on the floor and cupped her throat to make her look at him when she refused to, “Y/N ‘m serious -- you rather tell me what’s happening with ye’ or ‘m throwin' you at my shoulder and takin’ you hospital —... cause fuck look at you been like this since morning ....” He was rambling and Y/N felt like drilling a hole into floor and hide herself there forever.

She was mortified and embarrassed, a terrible combination.

She wasn’t able to tell him infront of all of their friends even though it’s something very normal, so everyone stared and nodded when they left they for Harry’s room.

“Bambi are you okay? I’m not even kidding something’s not —-..” She wipes her nose and tugs at his wrist trying to shush him, when he doesn’t pushes a fingers against his lips.

“Don’t worry. ‘m good --- just —-... umm I’m on my periods.” She rubs her one feet on another and his mouth fall into an ‘o' when realization hit him and his brows clinches together sternly.

He sighs running his fingers through his hair, something he does when frustrated and whumpy.

“Should’ve told me. We could have done this later ... do you want anything? I’ve got pain —--,” His words swells on his tongue when her head bumps against his chest and her hands locks around his neck, hugging him with all her gentle will because nobody has ever cared for her –-- him being so tentative to her makes her want to sob into his chest.

He warms her in all the right places.

“How’re you feeling on scale of one to ten?” He speaks while chewing onto the stuffed crust of pizza. They’re cosied up on the sofa while Mama Mia plays on the telly and she’s cuddled up into him, he's holding her heat pad with the grip of his forearm and she lifts her head mousey-ly from his bicep and whispers – “Eightish...? Now, you’re Dr.Styles.” He giggles at her and pushes her head back against him with his finger.

“What does my being dentist has a connection to your periods?” He dips the pads of his fingers into her pudgy love handles and squeezes them -- she giggles thinking about the joke she’s about to crack.

“You pull teeth, it’s blood and I pull out tampon so it’s —...” Harry chuckles gruntly at her and tickles her more, “Oh no. I know where it’s goin'....”

“You asked for it!” She pouts at him and he squishes her lips together as if she’s a duck toy.

Then they flump back into their cuddling position and Harry rubs her tummy in tender soothing circles, it helps her relax and his breath syncs with her and she really tries not to pay attention to her bratty screaming hormones heating her skin up – her thighs experiencing a quiver and she squeaks down a huffy whimper.

“You okay?” Harry asks. When she squirms against him and she gulps -- they don’t hide stuff from eachother so she tells him honestly, “You’re really turning me on.” Harry’s heart hiccups at that and his palms still over her thighs.

“Is that so?”

He pets her hair and tries to make her stand, “Just go to washroom and jizz one out.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? Why?”

“Promise me you wouldn’t make fun....” He frowns and nods bringing his pinky to make the deal.

She clutches her sweater down to her knees, cheeks rosy and mutters out in one breath – “I’ve specific days for that....” Harry really tires to. He locks up his laughs in his lungs and it aches his chest, his cheeks balloons up but at last he rolls onto floor and guffaws into his elbow.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun!!!” She whines kicking his side lightly and he grabs her ankle, “This means all those times you’d be all locked up –- oh my god, you were playing with yourself.” She folds her arms. Her nostrils flares with irritation and she doesn’t even spare him a glance.

“Pet, waiting so long .. it’s a torture to yourself.” He tells her genuinely sitting up with crossed legs and she mumbles knuckling at her eyes, “just some reasons ... horny is bad.” Now, Harry feels kind of terrible pushy person and he really wants to help her out but he’s walking on egg shells here. So, he stops asking anything.

“Rori's girlfriend is a sex therapist —-“ She becomes all fidgety at that and Harry takes in her nervousness, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to.” He exclaims waving his hands and she gulps giving him a small nod.

“Night time fo' some grumpy muffy!” He coos, brings the blanket to her chin and his pupils dilate adorningly when she asks him, “Could I snuggle you?”

“Ofcourse.” He pecks her temple and tells her to budge over before sandwiching her between him and the sofa.

That whole night all his mind could think was why horny is bad for her?

Y/N was feeling overly warm and heated, a tad achy between her thighs. She vigorously tries to focus on something else but her chest is heaving at this point, even opens the windows and let the cool air hit her but no use –- so she does what have to be done in order to get rid of the throb.

She cosies herself on the bed, switches onto hentai and throws her legs in air to shimmy her sheer white panty down.

“Oh ...” Whimpers teeny-ly when her fingers brushing up her soaking pussyfolds provides her a bit relief – her soft hands wanders beneath her flimsy shirt and touches her skin in the most arousing way possible –-- tweaks her nipples and jerks up, oozing more wetness.

“Ah! Fuck.” She moans easing in two fingers at once and cramps down at them watching the hentai porn –- but it’s not enough, she’s been pushing her fingers in and out for ten minutes now—she’s unable to get to climax.

So she groans sits up and switches to domineering audios, listens to it while fingering herself hard and she has no idea from where her mind gathered these images from -- but -- soon she’s thinking about Harry’s husky rasp, his sea-foam beautiful eyes and those rosy knuckles ring clad hands —-- imagining him holding her down into mattress and pounding into her at a brutal pace, making her sit on his cock and not letting her move –-- his fingers down her petty throat —-- him spanking her ass if she let’s out any voice out and he'd roar at her beg as she'd be lurking at her tenth orgasm –---- every plausible dirty stuff with him.

She was so engulfed into making herself feel good, lost in her own headspace and imaginations that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching and it’s like she manifested him as he stands at the door-frame with blown away pupils –-- guppy mouth and she’s squealing feeling dizzy upon sitting up this quick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck —-... sorry sorry ... “ He covers his eyes and turns to walk away but bumps his head with a thud into doorframe.

She gasps, knees up and almost shouts, “No!” making him halt mid-track and she’s on the verge of tears, red face and shaky fingers.

“Please ....”

“Stay.”

Harry’s eyes turns soft at that and he walks towards bed, licks his lips wet and brushes the loose tress of her hair away.

“You want me to stay, muffy?” He asks to make sure – she isn’t in haze and all fog minded.

“Yes. I want you to stay.” She doesn’t hesitate this time. Her words honest and full of plead, she needs him, she wants him, she wants to have him.

753 notes · View notes

sapphicwhxre · 4 years ago

Text

your first time | HCs

what your first time having sex includes (for anon)

Г includes : hermione granger, draco malfoy, harry potter, ron weasley, ginny weasley, pansy parkinson, fred weasley, george weasley, luna lovegood, cho chang, fleur delacour, nymphadora tonks, bellatrix lestrange, and narcissa black

♡─

hermione granger

♡─

actually researches everything she can to make it good for you (which ends up working really well)

is such a nervous wreck about making it perfect that you have to remind her

"it's with you, it'll already be perfect"

uses terms like vagina until you straight up tell her you're comfortable with dirtier words

foreplay QUEEN

does absolutely everything in her power to get you as wet as possible before doing anything

to the point where you wonder if you'll cum before even fucking

is already asking you what kinks you wanna try at this point

doesn't shut up but she's complimenting you the whole time

gets really encouraged + turned on whenever you moan

clingy, grinning mess after

asks you immediately what you want her to do better next time

♡─

draco malfoy

♡─

cocky, cocky, cocky

secretly really nervous but still plays it up

will not let you top

returns anything you do

doesn't stand for you being quiet

he will do everything in his power to get you as loud as possible

also doesn't take his eyes off you at all ─ like he wants to memorise every second of it and every inch of your body

pretty rough but instantly softens if he thinks he hurt you or something

won't cum until you do

tells you how hot you were after

teases you for cumming for him like that wasn't the intended goal

acts non chalant instead of telling you how head over heels he is

♡─

harry potter

♡─

harry is CURIOUS and no one can tell me otherwise

you're the one that has to tell him it's ok to touch you and he goes all out once you do

wants to do everything, touch you everywhere

actually wouldn't be able to get over you or shift his focus from pleasing you

"these are so pretty", "i love this", "say my name again", etc.

you probably have to pull him away at some point if you want to actually touch him ─ or fuck

absolutely shook when do you touch him

tries to stay quiet until you tell him you wanna hear him

then he won't shut up with the babbling and the praises

wants a second round as soon as you finish

♡─

ron weasley

♡─

thanks to hbp, we know how inexperienced ron is

so don't expect him to get actually kinky the first time

sure, he wants to go all out with you but he's actually really gentle

accidentally tries something in the moment (like choking, degrading, basically any kink) and apologises

then can't believe the experience actually gets better when you roll with said kink (and enjoy it)

slows and asks if you're ok the whole time

and every time you say yes, he gets really encouraged

doesn't even want to pull away when you're done ─ basically never wants to take his hands off of you again

heavy breathing and huge grinning right on your skin when you're done

having a snack together after because it's cute and he's all worn out so

♡─

ginny weasley

♡─

effortlessly sexy

honestly gets you going without even knowing it (you're done for when she actually tries)

she's really casual but sweet

definitely confident

puts her hair in a ponytail so you can see her face but still grab her hair

can't stay serious for shit ─ she's so happy and makes sure you know it

absolutely teases you if you stare at her

"its like this is the first time you've seen me naked!"

voices how turned on she is and how hot she finds you

forces herself to keep her eyes open because she wants to see you come undone

gets as many orgasms out of you as she can

sits on your lap and plants all these little kisses on your face when you're finished

♡─

pansy parkinson

♡─

"y/n and i are going to fuck, you should all be jealous" "oh my gods pansy,"

only a little nervous ─ she's more excited than anything

starts to confidently tells you about her daydreams, fantasies, and wet dreams but ends up blushing really hard

gets to work immediately

assumes she's topping but is actually willing to let you if you'd like

cocky, teasing, and sweet the whole time

goes for dirty names right off the bat

doesn't miss a beat when you cum, "baby 'm gonna take you against the wall now"

keeps going even after she gets tired

finally stops once you're both mindblown and unable to walk

falls asleep naked with you, head in your hair, mumbling about how she has the best s/o

♡─

fred weasley

♡─

will pick you up/drag you/etc. to wherever you're doing this

excited as fuck but wants a safeword first and foremost

probably makes it something really stupid

you can barely get anything other than moans out once he starts touching you

gives you kisses, talks dirty, fucks you as hard as he can... he goes all out

just to make your first time the best you've ever had

focuses on giving unless you want more

softer during the second round but way kinkier ─ the boy likes trouble more than work but he's still a quick learner

slow, tired makeout when you're both worn out and him spooning you

♡─

george weasley

♡─

also really excited

has already figured out your kinks at this point through conversation cues and imagined making you cum with all of them

won't stop kissing you, saying stuff like, "ready to cum for me baby?"

SWOONING banter, "so long as you fill me up love"

confident + teasing about it

"fuck, how did you know i like that?" "a weasley is always prepared y/n," "didn't you forget to wear shoes to class last week?"

absolute gentleman

makes sure everything's ok with you

knows how to get you hot and bothered without being too rough

grunted i love yous

pulls out of you once you're all fucked out but keeps you close so he can give your forehead wet, praising kisses

♡─

luna lovegood

♡─

so ready to do this

tells you really non-chalantly how bad she wants you

also a queen of foreplay

undresses you so carefully and slowly, telling you how gorgeous you are

long kisses

open about her kinks, asks straight up what yours are

locking fingers while you fuck and agreeing to only let go if one of you wants to stop

spoiler, your hands may as well be fused together by the end of the night

coaxes you through her moans and checks on you

even though she knows ─ and trust me, she KNOWS ─ you're having the time of your life

wants you to lay on your back after you cum and plays with your hair + swirls her fingers on your skin from her comfy lil seat on your waist

♡─

cho chang

♡─

sweet over sexy first time

nervous at first that someone's going to walk in but once she starts touching you, the whole world disappears

lots of blushing and giggling

nothing too serious ─ your legs are tangled and you're just heart eyed

plants kisses all over you the whole time

actually loses herself with you

like eyes scrunched shut and looking like an angel

if she didn't want to see you all pretty and moaning so bad, she'd probably keep her eyes closed and just be happy with how good you feel

whispers the cutest but dirtiest shit

so smiley when you cum

gets pouty if you pull away or stand up after

wants to cuddle, skin to skin, and keep giving you kisses

♡─

fleur delacour

♡─

wants it to be perfect

wears the prettiest lingerie she owns

sets a romantic scene

physically and verbally

trust me when i say this girl is a romantic goddess when it comes to words

pulls out the french and tells you how beautiful she thinks you are

magic touch ─ her fingers are stroking and caressing you during everything and it feels magical

during this first time, actions > words

barely says anything

other than moaning your name

quietly praises you under her breath but says it louder if you tell her to

just really sensual and passionate

holds you in her arms and kisses all over your neck and shoulders when you finish

♡─

nymphadora tonks

♡─

"love, are you sure you want to do this together?"

the second she has your full comfort and consent?

she goes wild

fucks you a thousand different ways but is being so sweet with her words

respectful yet dirty, complimenting in the sexiest tone you've ever heard

wouldn't want to do anything too kinky the first time

only because she wants to leave you wanting more

(as if you won't already ─)

definitely loses control of her hair colour in the moment

it just feels so good that she can't help but go bright and vibrant

all bubbly and talkative when you finish + gets herself together and changes her hair back to your favourite colour

♡─

bellatrix lestrange

♡─

lays out all her kinks that first time

goes absolutely wild in bed

covers you in sloppy kisses and hickeys

moans shit like, "i have been thinking about this since the moment i laid eyes on you,"

loud the whole time

possessive pet names

my doll, my love, my pretty little thing

melts the first time your hands are in her hair

(whether they're pulling at it or running through it)

won't say anything about it but looks for cues that you're comfortable and enjoying it as much as she is

doesn't stop until you're completely worn out

lays on your chest when you're done

and falls asleep mumbling praises

♡─

narcissa black

♡─

tease

wants to stretch out your desire before you do anything for as long as she can

long kisses, hooked fingers, etc.

and when she does fuck you?

respectful queen, looks at you for consent before trying anything

stays serious but if you let out a little giggle, she indulges it because she's just as excited to finally be doing this with you

knows what she wants and expects it

she doesn't stop coming up to kiss you

tells you how good you're doing the whole time

makes you cum as many times as she possibly can before finally letting go

doesn't let go when you're done ─ she wants to stay close to you, hot breaths and juices mixing while she kisses the top of your head

─────

2K notes · View notes

comfortbucky · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! If requests are still open I was wondering if I could request a fluffy fic where reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up? 💗💗

HELL YEAH!!!

REQUESTS!!! ARE!!! OPEN!!!

𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘁 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚

pairing: bodyguard!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack

tags: grumpy!bucky, bodyguard!bucky, fluffy bucky!!!

A/N: okay i have never written bodyguard!bucky before but i just thought it would be such a sweet concept to see him being soft🥺

sorry if the ending is kind of bad😭 i didn’t know how to quite wrap it all up, but i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!! <3 i had so much fun writing about bodyguard!bucky!!!!!

word count: 2.9k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N groaned as her phone alarm went off and hit snooze for the fifth time. She reached her hand out, head facing away and resting on her pillow, fumbling for her phone to turn off the incessant sound. Before she could shut it off, the noise stopped. Y/N turned her head slightly to see a large, dark figure in the corner of her eye. She turned her head fully to see her bodyguard with a frown on his face as he shut her alarm off.

“Your alarm, it’s annoying,” Bucky grumbled. “You should get up anyways, busy schedule today.” He walked out of the room before she could respond. Super soldier hearing was no joke if he was able to hear her alarm from his bedroom down the hall. Y/N sighed as her face planted into the pillow.

She was not looking forward to the events planned out for the day. During the day, there was a slew of interviews she had, back to back, and at night, a gala she was being forced to attend by her father.

Being the daughter of a wealthy tech tycoon had its perks for sure, but Y/N did not consider all of the press she did as a part of them. She never liked being in the spotlight but was forced to be, a birthright she had. Growing up with her dad, she’d developed a fascination for tinkering with computers, game consoles, and everything in-between. She spent a lot, practically all of her free time, with her dad when her mom had passed away. Her dad ended up throwing himself into his life’s work and she worked with him closely in the beginning, but slowly started to drift apart from him as she started to make a name for herself.

Earlier that week, her dad had sent her a text, informing her that a big announcement would be made at the gala. Big parties and large crowds weren’t really her thing, but it seemed like she didn’t have the option to avoid this one.

She got ready for the day, walking down to her kitchen to see her bodyguard, Bucky, sitting at the table, reading a book. As soon as he heard her come down the steps, he stood up and put his book away.

“C’mon, we’re already running late,” he mumbled, making his way to the door. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, grabbing a granola bar as she briskly followed behind him.

When her dad became a big name in the world of tech, the last thing Y/N thought she needed was a bodyguard, but her dad felt otherwise. It took one, very close call, of her almost getting mugged for her dad to immediately assign a personal bodyguard for her. She insisted that it was unnecessary, seeing that she was a fully grown adult, but her dad refused, as he was the one paying for Bucky’s salary.

Bucky had always been rather closed off since the beginning, and not much had changed since he was first assigned to her a little over a year ago. He kept their relationship very professional, only speaking when necessary and leaving the room whenever he wasn’t needed. She had tried to get him to open up more, learn about his past, but he always shut her questions down by either ignoring her or changing the topic to discussing something work-related. He was an enigma to her, which only left her wanting to solve the mystery that was James Bucky Barnes but couldn’t seem to crack the code.

Her first two interviews went smoothly, exactly what she was used to. A couple of questions about her current projects at work, some about her dad sprinkled in, and what she had planned for the future. It was a format she was used to and had come to appreciate, not exactly enjoying being the center of attention. During her last interview, however, she was caught off guard by one of the last questions she was asked.

“I know this might be an awkward question to ask, but I just have to! The people want to know: do you think your dad’s ever going to return to the dating pool?”

Y/N choked on her saliva. She knew her dad was an attractive man, seeing posts on social media of people fawning over him. Although she found it to be very weird and uncomfortable, she just brushed it all aside, not wanting to think about it as it only led to her thinking about the loss of her mom, a sore spot for her.

Y/N cleared her throat and forced out a chuckle. “I think that’s a question only he can answer, I don’t always know what’s going on in that crazy head of his.”

The interviewer laughed and proceeded to transition into the next segment. Y/N quickly thanked the interviewer and left, Bucky swiftly following behind. He had a feeling that something was off, as Y/N would typically stay behind to chat with the interviewer, crew members, even the service staff, whenever she finished an interview. It was always something he admired about her, how down to earth she remained, despite all of the privileges she had. She went out of her way to thank everyone on set, no matter how small their role might seem. He always told the drivers to pull the car up a little later than originally planned, just so she would have the extra time to talk.

Y/N pushed the doors open, only to find an empty street. She turned around and gave Bucky a curious look.

“Sorry, the driver just texted me,” he said, as he sent a text to the driver, telling him to come now. “He’s running late.”

Y/N nodded and leaned against the wall, looking down to fiddle with her hands. Bucky leaned against the opposite wall, facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay?”

Y/N looked up at Bucky to find a gentle look in his eyes, slightly taken aback at the sight. She always found herself drawn to his piercing blue eyes, but they usually had a colder glint to them. This was a look she’d never seen before.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied, averting her gaze down as she felt her cheeks flush at the sight of Bucky’s soft gaze.

The car arrived, cutting off Bucky’s train of thought as he was thinking of what to say to her. For a moment he debated on continuing the conversation in the car but figured she already had a long night ahead of her and didn’t want to push any further.

After a quick pit stop back to Y/N’s place, allowing her to change into an evening gown, the car headed to the venue of the gala. Bucky got out of the car before her, walking around to the other side to open her door. Before she stepped out, Y/N took a deep breath in and exhaled, plastering a fake smile on her face as a surge of flashing lights from cameras greeted her. Bucky watched, seeing her seamlessly transform from Y/N, the girl who needed to set a million alarms before actually waking up, to Y/N, tech extraordinaire, one of the most powerful people in the tech world.

Once they were inside the venue, Bucky stuck to his usual routine. Scope out the exits, look for any potential threats, and make sure Y/N was in his eyesight. Bucky kept close by but also kept his distance. He wanted to make sure that he gave her enough space whenever they were out, knowing that having him around was her dad’s idea and that she wasn’t too fond of having security detail in the first place. So he did everything he could to make himself blend in with the crowd, allowing her to roam freely, only following her when she moved out of his line of vision.

Y/N walked around, not knowing a single soul but making polite small talk with the rest of the guests. She became accustomed to knowing how to act at these types of events over the span of her adult life. Food, drinks, more food, home. Crowds made her uneasy, but she always felt calmer when she saw Bucky in her peripheral vision. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but over the last year, he had become a constant source of relief at these public events. Just knowing that he was there if she felt uncomfortable, unsafe, or wanted to leave early made her public outings much more bearable.

“Hey, sweetie! I’m so glad you made it.” Y/N turned around at the sound of her dad’s voice and smiled, moving in to hug him.

“Yeah well, you said you had a big announcement, so I figured I’d stop by,” she joked, eliciting a chuckle from her dad as they pulled away from each other.

“I’m about to make it now,” he started, placing his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “And I was wondering if you could join me on stage for it? I know that’s not your thing, but it would mean so much to me, Y/N.”

While she absolutely hated the idea of having to stand in front of thousands of people, she reluctantly nodded. Y/N and her dad had slowly grown apart the past several years, only talking a couple times a month to catch up. With both of their busy schedules, they always seemed to miss each other. Despite their growing apart, she would do anything for her dad, especially if it meant so much to him.

Bucky slowly followed behind, as Y/N and her dad walked up to the stage. Y/N glanced behind her to give a slight smile to Bucky, to which he nodded back. He stood backstage, watching them from behind the curtains.

“Hi everyone, thanks so much for coming out tonight,” Y/N’s dad spoke into the mic. She was standing beside him, hands clasped in front of her, trying to look calm and not totally anxious.

“Since the success of my brand, people have said that I am a man who has everything. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, my company, my friends, and most importantly, my daughter.” Her dad extended a hand out to point to Y/N and the crowd cheered. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. Despite his brooding attitude, he had come to grow fond of Y/N, being able to see her for who she truly was. She was smart, witty, and had a heart of gold.

“The only thing I’ve been missing,” her dad looks down at the ground for a second, before looking back out at the crowd. “Is someone to share it all with.” Y/N’s smile faltered and felt her stomach drop. She couldn’t fully register the words coming out of her dad’s mouth.

“After Sarah, my wife had passed, I didn’t think I would be able to love again. Until I met Alyssa.” Y/N was frozen in place upon hearing her dad’s confession. She’d never heard of anyone named Alyssa during any of their catch-up calls and now he was saying he loved her? Y/N quickly turned as a woman walked out on stage. The woman walked over to her dad and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist before speaking.

“Now I feel complete, now I have everything.” He pulled Y/N to him and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, smiling for the cameras ahead. There were a lot of strategies Y/N had devised over the years to deal with potential unexpected and uncomfortable situations in a composed manner to avoid having a PR nightmare.

She didn’t have one for this.

Tearing herself from her dad’s hold, she ran off stage, heading towards the exit that led to the outside. Y/N took in the fresh air, trying to stop her hyperventilating. It wasn’t working. Her chest felt tight as she began gasping for air, struggling to take in oxygen.

She was having a panic attack. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but it had been so long since she’d had one. The last time she remembered, was at her mom’s funeral.

Her mom. Her dad. Alyssa.

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her vision blurred, her eyes swelling up with tears. Y/N felt like she had no control over her body and shut her eyes, allowing the panic to consume her.

Then, a firm, but gentle, warm feeling in her hands.

Y/N blinked her eyes open to reveal Bucky, standing in front of her. She looked down and saw that it was his hands in hers, holding them tight.

“Can you breathe for me, honey?”

His voice came out in a soft whisper, accompanied by the warmest and welcoming smile. She shook her head, unable to control her quick and rapid breaths. Bucky squeezed her hands a little tighter, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

“Yes you can, just breathe with me, okay?”

He started to breathe in and out slowly and eventually, she was able to follow his lead, deciding to focus on his eyes. There was that look from before the ride to the gala, the gentle look in his eyes. She’d always felt that his blue eyes reminded her of stormy seas, but now, now they made her think of the calmness of the ocean in the early morning, waves crashing softly on the shores.

As she regained her composure, she realized she’d been staring into Bucky’s eyes for, probably, far too long. Bucky felt her tight grip on his hands loosen and reluctantly let go of her hands. He immediately missed the softness of her hands and how small they were in comparison to his much larger, calloused, hands.

“T- Thank you,” she stuttered out, her gaze locked on the ground, as she placed her hands to her sides.

“It’s no problem. I get them too,” he replied. She looked up at him as he clarified. “Panic attacks. PTSD from serving overseas.”

Y/N face drops, her stomach churning at the thought that Bucky had ever experienced panic like she had. She returned her gaze to the ground as a silence washed over them.

“He didn’t tell me about her,” she spoke in a quiet voice. “Never brought her up once. But I guess she must be pretty special for him to do all of this.”

Bucky stood a couple steps in front of her, seeing teardrops fall from her face. She lifted her head up to wipe away her tears, her hands shaking from anxiety. Y/N placed her hands on her face and started to sob.

She was slightly hurt by the idea of her dad loving any other woman than her mom but knew that he’d have to move on eventually. What hurt her the most was the fact that he didn’t tell her, not until they were on stage, standing before a crowd of people. It was too much for her to handle and she reached her breaking point.

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sight. He cautiously stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Something his PTSD had taught him was how pressure from a hug could help relax the nervous system and calm him down. He held her firmly in his arms until he felt her breathing slow. She looked up at him, remaining in his embrace, her eyes glassy from crying, nose red and sniffly. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat and immediately pushed the thought away.

“You wanna leave, honey?”

She nodded in response, staying in his arms for just a second longer before pulling away. Y/N longed for his warm touch, feeling like a child who had their security blanket taken away. It didn’t help that it was also cold outside, sending a chill down her spine.

Bucky noticed and shrugged his suit jacket off to wrap around her shoulders. She beamed a smile at him and he smiled back.

The pair walked around the outside of the venue to find the car when they ran into a mob of paparazzi, shouting questions at Y/N about her sudden exit. Like a reflex, she grabbed hold of Bucky’s hand and he gave her a comforting squeeze as he cleared a path towards the car.

Bucky and Y/N were sat next to each other in the car, which was not the typical seating arrangement they usually had, usually sitting on opposite ends of the car. But Y/N hadn’t let go of his hand, not quite ready to separate herself from his warmth. Bucky had absolutely no problem with that, mindlessly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She felt safe. She always felt safe with Bucky around.

Y/N felt her eyelids become heavy, struggling to keep them open. She was exhausted from her long day, and her panic attack had taken most of her energy away.

Bucky felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see Y/N’s head resting there. He felt a warmth rush to his cheeks and smiled, resting his head on top of hers.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed. “You always make me feel so safe.”

Bucky felt a surge of tenderness rush through him. That was all he ever wanted to do. He wanted to keep her safe. He kissed her forehead, causing her to snuggle closer to him.

“Of course, honey. I’m here, always.”

540 notes · View notes

chocominnie · 3 years ago

Text

One Last Time 01 — Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Word Count : 4.3k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

The winter’s coldness is hardly enough for you to bear. Even though it’s just the beginning, Seoul is known to just go from season to season without a fucking warning. Not only that, but the first snowfall is going to come soon. The weatherman has been talking about it non-stop for the past few days. It’s going to be a brutal one he says but he says that every year so why believe?

Turning off your alarm, you take a few minutes to collect yourself and stretch. Barely any sleep once again but that’s an everyday thing now.. without Jimin. It’s been some rough months not having his body wrapped snugly onto yours. These days you long for his touch, but completely dread at the same time for very good reasons.

Your kitten greets you with small licks on your thigh in which in return you pet her head softly with a smile.

‘‘ At least I still have you babygirl. You keep me company. “ You coo softly while grabbing your phone off the charger. Texts from your best-friend just spamming you with love and apparently she’s coming over. Great. That’s normal. But one text catches your eye. Jeon Jungkook.

You furrow your eyebrows as your finger slides to open it after typing in your password. In relief, he’s just checking up on you as always. Rolling your eyes, you muster enough strength to actually pull yourself out of bed. The cold tiles hit your feet like icicles. You jump from from foot to foot cursing yourself for not turning on the floor heaters as you walk out the room. Clara, your kitten, follows you out purring nonchalantly with a few meows here and there.

‘’ Alright Clara I hear you. Im getting your food now.’’ You chuckle, grabbing her food from the bottom kitchen cabinet right under the sink and pour her half a cup of cat food and a whole bowl of water.

After snacking on your morning granola bar you prepare yourself for your morning routine. Shower, brush teeth, skin care, get dressed, clean. Your phone dings once more just before stripping yourself of your clothes. You don’t bother to look it’s probably just a social media notification.

Drying your hair with a towel as you get out the steaming hot shower, you head straight for the mirror. Dark circles remain under your eyes from months of barely any sleep. You sigh, and gently rub under them. Jimin is the cause of this. Why would he do this to you. Surely enough he would not like to see you like this at all. The worriedness he would have over you is huge. But he has moved on and you just have to accept it no matter how in-love you still are with him.

As you clean up around the living room, another ding from your phone occurs. A groan escapes your lips as you place the pillows back as they should be. In hopes of it just being your manager giving you some good news, you let out a sigh and plop yourself down on the grey suede couch. Three new messages. Jeon Jungkook, who has text you twice, and Ryan your bestfriend.

‘‘ Damn it Ryan why must you consistently text me twenty four sev- “

“ Beause I need to know if you’re okay.”

You jump and drop your phone onto the hardwood floor from the voice that comes from around you.

“ Holy fucking shit you scared me! “ You whine, turning around to face your best-friend. She smiles and holds out her arms for a hug. You roll your eyes and open yours waiting for her embrace.

“ Oh i’ve missed you so so so so so so so-”

“ You just seen me yesterday..” Your voice sarcastic and bland as you let go of her. You sit on the couch first followed by Ryan sitting right next to you.

She looks good today, the navy blue coat she has on suits her very well. Although, you cannot figure out why she decided to wear leggings today. It’s going to rain a bit later but you disregard that seeing as though she’s the fashion deisgner and not you.

You. The model and seemingly ex girlfriend of one of the biggest solo idol in the world right now. Thats what they call you in the news, headlines in magazines, and real life as if you don’t have a real name and just was his acessory. Your modeling career had taken off way before dating him. The world, or Seoul to say the most, didn’t acklowledge you to that point yet.

“ Okay but still. You know we should be roomates. It’ll be easier for me to watch over you. “

Your head turns towards her quickly shaking no, “ I don’t need to be looked over im 20 years old.”

Silence takes place for the next few seconds. You know what she’s going to say next but pray she doesn’t. Those words will just make you even more upset. It’s already enough you have that constant reminder in your head.

You watch her fiddle with the rings on her index and pinky fingers. “ But you know… you haven’t been the same since you and Jimi-”

“ Don’t fucking say it. I don’t want to hear it.”

She sighs harshly and stands up, “ Im just worried about you Yn”

“ Don’t be. Im fine. “ That lie escaped your tongue way too easily.

Truthfully you haven’t and won’t be fine. Everyday there is something new about that girl and Jimin on twitter. Gossip pages, twitter fanpages, and online entertainment pages just always talking about them. They did this, they did that today. Oh we caught them going to this and that restaurant. That used to be you and him.. but now everyone has forgotten about you and focused on them.

Ever since you’ve told reporters and paparazzi repeatedly that you will not be holding or going to any interview they just stopped. A few calls here and there to your manager about scheduling one but she knew you didn’t want to do them so every request is denied. Although its been a year and some change, they still seem to want your side and your opinion to weigh in on. I guess that’s what happens when you date an Idol.

“ The door.. Y/N the door somebody is at the door.” Ryan says, tapping you over and over. You shake your head interrupting your thoughts for the time being. A few more knocks come through.

Finally up onto your feet you harshly walk to the door with each step making noise. It’s to early in the morning for someone to actually be knocking at the door right now. Whoever it is better be dropping off some sort of package, or they’ll surely get a piece of your mind.

Your frail hands grab onto the doorknob and swing it open. Your eyes almost pop through your sockets. How? How did he know you were here? You certainly did not tell him your knew address.

There he stands, his tall frame looking down on you. Lips formed into a tiny pout along with his eyebrows scrunched slightly. His brown eyes forming an ungodly stare into yours with his specs on.

“ Yn! Do you know how worried I was about you? Why did you not answer my messa-”

“Jungkook how do you know where I live?” You pace your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow at him. To your knowledge, you never gave Jungkook your new apartment address.

Jungkook swallows slowly and puts on his best innocent face on. Oh please like that would work in this moment right now. The only person who has this address is Ryan because she’s the one who helped you move. Even if you had the choice of not giving it out to Ryan you would of but you couldn’t do that to her. She would of been so upset.

Ryan’s voice blares in the background full of excitement. Here we fucking go. “Jungkook! Come in Come in.”

“ Ryan says I could come in.” He says quickly, brushing past you and removing his shoes.

You heavily sigh and slam the door shut. What is this a family reunion? On your way back to the couch you notice them laughing and giggling like two five year old children. They don’t even notice you when you sit right across from them.

You study their expressions. Their chemistry is something so strong. The way their eyes light up when they meet, the way that Jungkook smiles and scrunches his nose more often when she’s around. You miss that. You miss doing that.

“ So are you both coming along this afternoon?”

Your attention focuses back on them. Of course you weren’t paying attention once again.

Your eyes slowly meet with theirs, “ Huh? Where are we going?”

“ Kookie finally bought a house! He wants us to come tonight for chicken and beer. You’re coming right?”

A sharp pain goes through your heart. If the both you you guys go then theirs a possibility that Jimin was invited too. After all, that is his brother. If Jimin comes then he’s most likely going to bring Isabel. A recipe for disaster. Your poor heart, that most likely could not bare the sight of them infront of you, would shatter into a million pieces.

Jungkook’s expression is ready to burst into happiness or to turn into a pout awaiting for your answer. If you let him down he’ll surely be mad at you. But putting yourself before him this time would be the right thing to do right?

“ Listen Jungkook I.. don’t think I can go.” You start off, playing with your hair with your head down.

“ I’ll space you two apart.”

Your face automatically lifts itself up in shock. Somehow, that little confirmation of Jimin being there, gave you some hope. Hope for what though?

“ Wha-what do you mean?”

Jungkook sighs heavily with his hand going up to his brown hair running it through lightly. “ I’ll make sure you two are distanced apart. You don’t want to come because of Jimin but I’ll make sure I’ll invite more people to keep you company and away from him. Okay?”

“ Please Yn. I’ll be there too.” Ryan begs, laying her head on Jungkook’s shoulder. Jungkook smiles a little, caressing her cheek with his other hand upon waiting your response.

Weird. When did they get so close?

The first thing you want to say is that you really could not go. But they already know the excuse now. You might as well just give in.

‘‘ Fine. What time tonight? “

Skincare and makeup products are scattered everywhere on your vanity. You needed the perfect look for tonight that says ‘Yes im doing fine without you’, but in reality you’re doing worse. This is the night where you’ll actually see him. Damn it’s been a while.

After you apply your highlight you step back and take a look at yourself. Not bad at all. You smile to yourself and start cleaning up the mess of products you had distributed across the vanity. A new text appears on you phone as soon as you gather everything up and put it back in it’s place. Grabbing your phone, it’s Ryan giving you the address to Jungkook’s new house.

You sigh and mentally prepare yourself, ‘‘ Okay Yn. You can do this. It’s just one night of conversing among people. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new.”

Before heading out you grab your coat and scarf. Clara follows you all the way to the door letting out her little meows once again. You bend down to pet her head lightly with a smile. “ Clara im coming back. I’ve put food in your bowl babygirl.”

She purrs under your touch then walks away to settle herself in her bed. You take one last final look at your decent sized apartment before heading out.

The subway ride was agonizing pain for you due to it being 30 minutes long. Well, at-least you can ride the subway now. Your mind wouldn’t even of thought of that when you were with him. Everybody would have noticed you and bombard you with questions.

The outskirts of Seoul is peaceful and quite. Not many people live over here. Mostly famous actors and idols. The taxi takes a few minutes to get to the fairly clean subway station. Once you’re inside you take a good look at the driver who seems to be eyeing you in suspicion. You pull out your phone and read the words to the address exactly to him. The taxi man pulls of into the empty streets of god knows where.

All it took was a ten minute ride and then you’re there. The taxi man pulls up to a security guard booth. Just beyond the gates is more street but by squinting your eyes you can make out just a few newly built houses.

‘‘ Who are you here to see?” The taxi driver says.

“ Jeon Jungkook.?

The driver talks to the man for a few seconds before you see the security guard pick up a phone and start dialing. The security is extremely uptight, thats good. After a few moments of speaking the security guard finally opens the gates to be let through.

As you pull up to the house you’re automatically mesmerized on how big and beautiful it is. There’s fresh bushes and some white roses growing in the front of it complementing the white modern style home. The roundabout is full of luxurious cars, in which might be all the other guests.

‘‘ 10 dollars’‘ He says. You give him the ten, thank him, and grab your purse, closing the door behind you.

Your eyes meet face to face with the expensive house. Behind you is the tire wheels backing up and running off back down the roundabout. The time on your watch reads 8:15. Only fifteen minutes late, not bad right?

With each step you take fear quivers inside of you. What if he opens the door? What if that girl opens it instead? The wind blows harsh-fully hitting your cheeks making them turn slightly colored. You raise a small, shaky fist to knock on the door. Your blood turning cold, and face turning pale already. Your anxiety already taking its place inside of your body.

The door swings open revealing Ryan smiling from ear to ear. She pulls you inside without even a greeting. You kick your shoes off in a hurry as she pulls you more and more inside. Scanning the area around you, its a nice huge place. First the both of you pass the entrance, then the chef sized kitchen, which then leads you to the spacious living room where everybody seems to be sitting.

All eyes are on you now with some familiar faces and some not. They smile and greet you one by one and you slightly bow your head with a fake smile.

‘‘ Ah Yn, nice to see you again huh.’‘ Hoseok, the smiley one says, getting up from his seat to greet you once more.

‘‘ Nice to see you to Hoseok. Is Chae-Yeon here? I’ve baked the cookies she likes.’’ You say, holding up the big tuba-wear of freshly baked cookies. Nobody can resist those.

‘‘ No she had to work sadly, but I will enjoy them for her.’‘ He chuckles, bringing the tuba-wear out of your dainty, cold hands.

A very familiar voice booms from behind you causing you to turn around. “ Yn! You actually did come!’’ Jungkook, the owner of the voice exclaims. He wipes his hands with a napkin just before pulling you into a hug.You pat his back just before letting go.

Ryan smiles and shakes her head, “ I told you she would come.’’

Only one hour and 30 minutes into the festivities and half of the people here are drunk or nearly there. You on the other hand do not drink at all. Staying sober throughout this whole party is a must. Who knows what would happen if you start drinking and saying things.Ryan seems to be doing good with Jungkook who’s laying on the floor laughing and cracking jokes with her head laying on his stomach giggling along with him. The others have casually invited themselves into the guest game-room to play some pool.

You just sit there on the couch, munching on a cookie and smiling and laughing here and there at one of Seokjin and Jungkook’s back-to-back jokes that seem to never leave the air.

Only for a knock on the door to interrupt their flow of jokes.

‘‘ I got it I got it.” Seokjin stammers, placing a beer bottle down and stumbling towards the door. You freeze, face turning pale once more. It’s them. It could be them. Your teeth find their way to your lips and you begin to chew on it excessively.

Ryan notices it and automatically gets up from Jungkook, ‘‘ Come Yn, lets go see if the game of pool is interesting.’‘

You nod your head slightly as you get up from the couch. What are you worrying for? You look extravagant tonight. No need to worry yourself.

Just before taking your first few steps you stop, that voice. That oh so familiar voice begins to inch closer and closer. The famous laugh that he always tries to stifle by putting his hand over his mouth, that you’ve always thought was so fucking cute, fills the air.

You don’t know what got over you, but you sit back down dragging Ryan down with you. “ Yn? What are you doing I thought you wanted to avoid him.’’

‘’ No it’s okay. Im going to be fine.’‘ You say, awaiting upon his arrival into the room.

The footsteps are haunting you with each step they take.

one..two..three..four..five..si-

‘‘ Everyone, Isabel and Jimin are here.’‘ Seokjin stammers, smiling wide clearly drunk from all the beer consumed.

Your eyes go directly towards his. The pit of your stomach flutters with nervousness as you hold the long stare with him. His facial expression shocked but not showing it at all. His partner, who’s arm is linked with his, smiles brightly at everyone bowing her head slightly to them including you.

‘‘ Sorry we are late. Jimin didn’t want to come out of his home studio but I’ve made him come along with me.’‘ Her voice gentle and soft.

‘‘ Yn I forgot let me show you my new painting i have received.” Jungkook says quickly, trying to escape you from the awkwardness.You can bare it though its not as bad as you thought.

‘‘ Maybe later Kookie. I’m going to grab some juice.” You say, getting up from your spot. You brush past Jimin lightly with Ryan tailing along with you.

The spacious kitchen was perfect for you to escape for just a moment. Silence is golden. Ryan sighs, pouring you and her a glass of juice. Nothing is to be said yet. But you know she really wants to have her input.

Raising the glass to your lips, you take a sip letting the tanginess run across your tongue and down your throat. ‘’ Say it Ryan.’’

She puts her cup down and looks at you with your eyebrows furrowed, ‘’ You aren’t fine. Please just avoid them for the night.’’

You knew it was coming but you have to face the fact that they area couple anyways so why avoid it? Maybe your mind will finally accept it to see it in person.

‘‘ I have to face it one way or another so why not now?’‘

She shakes her head in disapproval, finishing the rest of her juice. “ No you don’t. You’re making yourself suffer and I don’t like it.’’

‘‘ Yn.. did you make these cookies?’‘ A voice says behind you. Ryan’s eyes go wide and then looks at you signaling for you to not turn around. But you do it anyways.

Isabel. How dare she call you by a pet name? You don’t even know her like that and she’s doing this. Anger wants to get the best of you but you remain humble and calm.

‘‘ Yes. Is there a problem though? Are they not good?’‘ You say, putting on your best innocent act.

She smiles as she moves a piece of hair of her perfectly framed face, ‘’ No they are great! I was wondering if i can have the recipe.. for Jimin’s purpose of course.’’

You breathe through your nostrils with your eyes closed. She knows what she’s doing. She likes seeing you suffer huh? ‘’ You can follow any recipe online. I just add almond extract and substitute white sugar for brown.’’

Ryan shakes her head slightly while sticking her cup into the sink. ‘’ I’m going to be back I have to use the restroom.’’

Once she leaves Isabel’s smile drops.’’ Almond? Im- Im allergic!” She says, semi yelling at you. You’re shocked more or so at the sudden outburst that you can’t speak. You had zero knowledge of her being allergic, it’s an accident for sure.

“You did this on purpose!’’ She says, tears filling her eyes as she goes into a coughing fit.

Shit. You didn’t know if anyone was allergic to nuts here but you had put it in anyways because that was the secret ingredient

‘’ I- I didn’t know im sorry is there anything I can do?’’ You say, guilt taking over you while you rush to her side patting her back.

‘‘ Get off of me! You did this on purpose! You never liked me anyways. Jimin! Jimin!‘ She scream’s, coughing and wheezing making her face red.

Multiple footsteps rush into the kitchen. You don’t know what to do at this point so you just back away and let whoever take over. All the commotion going on and yelling is starting to give you a slight headache. All of the boys surround her, bombarding with questions and asking each other what to do.

‘‘ What’s all the yelling about? What happened! “ Jungkook exclaims rushing towards her hunched over body.

‘‘ What’s going on? “ That voice that haunts you everynight finally comes inside the kitchen. When he see’s Isabel he automatically rushes towards her side. It pains you to see him rush to another woman’s body. But that figure is no longer yours so he has every right to do that.

‘‘ She-She put almond in the cookies on purpose! She’s trying to–to-’‘ She manages to wheeze out before another coughing fit.

Jimin’s eyes meet yours full of rage but then taken over by concern. He knows your hurt. Still hurt from the past and from this very situation now. You don’t manage to keep eye contact, so the floor is your eyes’ bestfriend right now.

‘‘ Yn. is this true? Why would you do that?” He says, eyes never leaving yours and voice soft.

You shake your head quickly, “ I didn’t know she was allergic. I always put almond extract an-’’

“ You knew better than to put any type or form of nut in a dish when bringing it to ones house. You never know if someone has an allergy to it.’‘ Jungkook scolds you, eyes furrowed in shame.

‘‘ Don’t blame her. She didn’t fucking know.” Ryan’s voice enters the room in madness. She comes to your side with her arms crossed. Your own personal savior. Without her, you’d still be feeling guilty and taking the blame.

‘‘ Besides, you knew better than to invite him if you knew he was going to bring the girl he cheated on her with.. right?’‘ She says, cocking her head to the side as her attitude takes over.

The room is silent again. Good girl Ryan.

Isabel lifts her head in disbelief along with Jimin. “ Listen that’s beside the point. Just don’t do it again.” Jimin says, focusing his attention back on Isabel. He reaches into her purse to grab her Epi-pen.

His scolding is enough to send your eyes into tears. You shouldn’t of agreed to come. This is a disaster. You take the tuba-wear of cookies from the counter on your way out of the kitchen and dispose of them. Your vision is blurry and you don’t know where your going but you just need some air. You make lefts and rights down long and short hallways till you reach a room that has a balcony.

You slip on who-ever’s house slippers and open the sliding door revealing the winter’s cold harsh air. You lean on the railing and close your eyes breathe in and out heavily.

Wiping the tears away, You open our eyes and look straight ahead. The whole city is lit up such a beautiful view for a sad moment. The sad moment is cut short by the sliding door opening and closing. You don’t bother to turn around it’s probably just Ryan checking on you again. When are people going to stop doing that?

“ Yn.”

Thats the last voice you wanted to hear.

‘‘ Are you happy? Happy for scolding me infront of everybody.” You sniffle, wiping away your leaking nose.

You hear some rustling before something is placed on your shoulders. You look down at the material and shrug it off of you.

‘‘ Give it to your girlfriend.”

‘‘ I can’t let you be cold. Put it back on.’‘ He sighs, picking it back up and coming closer to you. You both stand side by side. Jimin puts his jacket around you once more and before you could re-do your action just before, he speaks.

‘‘ Shrug it off again and I’ll scold you. Do you understand?’‘ He says firmly.

You don’t bother to speak. Silence is golden.

‘‘ Listen.. i know you still aren’t over the fact that we are through but-”

‘‘ Shut up. I don’t want to hear it. Please go tend to your dying girlfriend.’‘ You say, sarcastically.

He huffs, “ She’s resting right now. She wouldn’t have to be if you wouldn’t of put-’’

You turn towards him slowly and meet his eyes daring for him to finish the rest of his sentence. ‘’ Don’t you fucking dare Park Jimin.’’

‘‘ Honorifics.’‘ He says, slightly looking down at you due to the height difference.

‘‘ You’re right Jimin-ssi.’‘

Jimin’s expression is taken a-back. You knew that one honorific word would hurt him.

‘‘ If we are done speaking I will take my leave now.” You say, eyes never leaving his as you take off his jacket and toss it to him, leaving him outside in the cold

This night was one of your worst mistakes. You thought you could handle it, but couldn’t. So maybe Ryan and Jungkook were right. Maybe you can’t handle it at all..

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