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springalwayscomes · 1 year ago

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Closer: Too Close (II)

Closer Closer: Too Close (Teaser) Before this comes: Closer: Too Close Masterlist Taglist

Plot: To have each other close is something that you both always wanted, in a way or another. It’s just that… closer may be too close for you to handle.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Domestic, Humor, Friends to Lovers

Wordcount: 47.5k

Content Warning: Dirty talk, swearing, pining, mentions of masturbation, masturbation, praise, cunnilingus, cum eating, unprotected sex, mentions of blowjob, squirting, public sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, love making, creampie

Author’s Note: Hello, here it is!! Honestly I didn’t think I would write a second part to Closer, I felt like the end of that was the best I could give to these two, but it received so much love and when I read it again I couldn’t hold myself back. Still, I consider the first part the main one, you can read that without having to read this. I would add though, that these two here just make me want to scream for the bond they have. I didn’t say the time I would publish it to feel a little more relaxed with the editing but you asked me before and I thought I’d make it on time for 1 am KST so sorry if I kept you waiting! I hope you’ll like this, and happy birthday Jungkook! Take this as a little gift💜

P.s I hate tumblr, I had to split the story in different parts because it was too slow and apparently every post has a limit of 1000 blocks, so here you’ll be able to find the beginning of your reading:

Closer: Too Close, it’s all part of the same story!

If you want to be tagged in my taglist to get notified when my other works will come out let me know here, under this post, with a message or an ask. Feel free to talk to me for whatever, I always appreciate your messages!🫶🏻💜

Jungkook is standing not too far, eyes on the ground and hands deep in the pockets of his skinny jeans he munches on his lips nervously and you see already that he’s trying to take in deep breaths, his chest is swelling.

«Koo» you call out as you get closer. He turns immediately, eyes meeting yours without any efforts.

«What happened?»

He shakes his head, looks over at the building in front of him. You take his side, attach your back to the wall of the restaurant.

«What is it?» you ask.

«Talk to me,» your hand strokes his back «please?»

Silence fills the space between you, the space outside, every road near to you for a second. Time goes by slow as you wait for him to say anything, the way his breath comes out shaky makes you munch on your lips. A clacson echoes from afar and Jungkook finally opens his lips, but just to close them again for a few seconds.

«I- We’re still the same» he blurts out.

«We’re still best friends and you’re still my friend» he doesn’t even look at you as he speaks.

«What- what does that mean? Of course, we’re still-»

«You’re still my best friend and it’s fucking killing me, Y/n» he finally faces you. What you read in his expression is scary, it makes you lower your shoulders and double check for any signs of teasing, but there’s isn’t any.

«What- I’m not following you»

«I can’t-» he shakes his head «I can’t do this. I love you so fucking much it’s freaking killing me and you’re here putting Taehyung’s perilla leaves in his rice when I can’t even hug you in public»

«What-»

«What what?» he exclaims, gesturing with hands «You’re still my best friend! Nothing changed and I-»

«Everything changed, Jungkook!» you can’t believe what he’s saying.

«I love you! What do you mean nothing changed?»

«It doesn’t matter- not- it matters, fuck it matters, but it doesn’t matter cause I can’t show you!» his tone raises.

You feel the need to wrap your arms around him suddenly. You’re blowing smoke through your ears but the need to make him calm down takes over and all you end up doing is take him in your hold and squeeze him tight. Jungkook stays limp with his head hanging onto your shoulder, eyes watering as your hands stroke his back. It remembers him of when he was shaking and crying before he blurted his feelings out, the fear of losing you and the need of having you but not as close as he wants look kind of similar now. He knows, fuck he knows it deep inside him that your love is enough, more than enough actually, more than he ever could ask for, but having to restrain himself from showing it it’s so fucking hard that it’s killing him. Especially when he sees you do those little gestures for the others, while he keeps repeating himself that he should be careful. You’re not even the same as before, it’s all blurred just like his vision right now.

«Talk to me?» you whisper. He lets out a deep breath, shaky and frail, totally vulnerable now that he has you wrapped around him. He digs his nose into your skin, nuzzles in the crook of your neck just for the sake of it. He has you, he repeats to himself. He has you.

«I feel like-» he gulps «like I have you only when we’re alone. Like- you belong to me only when we’re together»

His fingers entangle with the cloth of your dress as you stroke his neck slowly. You wait for him to add more, but there’s only the raise of his chest against yours following.

«Why did you have to do that?» he whines high pitched.

«What did I do?» you hum. His digits dig into your back.

«The perilla leaf» he whines again. It hits you just now and Jungkook feels his cheek burn at his words cause he knows that it may sound childish, but it’s just- annoying.

«You’re- the perilla leaf? You’re jealous?» you can’t believe it.

«Cause I peeled off his perilla leaf?»

«Yes!» he nuzzles his nose deeper into you, almost as if by doing so his mind could hide from the outwardly flimsy problem.

«You should do that to me! It’s intimate, too sweet to do with him!»

«Jungkook, I was helping Taehyung out, he’s my friend»

«You helped him with your chopsticks, that you put into your mouth and eat from, and it’s- why didn’t you do it with me?» he mewls. You seriously don’t think you should be laughing right now, cause he’s serious and it’s something important for him yet you can’t help but find the situation amusing.

«You were fine on your own!» you blurt.

«And I would’ve done the same if-»

«No you wouldn’t, cause you don’t want them to know that there’s more between us» he squeezes you tighter but levels his face to yours, blinking as he takes in your closeness.

«We’re barely speaking when we’re all together. You’re so into not showing what we are that you’re barely acting like you’re my best friend, it wasn’t like this before»

«That’s not true! I-»

«The other time, you didn’t greet me,» he reminds you of what happened at Eunji’s place «yesterday when I came in you didn’t say anything»

«Cause they were there» you huff back, but he just raises his eyebrows and nods.

«Yes, but it wasn’t like this before. You- didn’t even say hi. Earlier too, all you do is… getting far. I can’t even put my arm around you anymore that- you feel the need to part, at Taehyung’s place too, why do we have to wait?» he keens at the last sentence.

«You’re far, too far and I- I can’t… I don’t like this. I feel like we’re not- like we’re back at having each other but not wholly. I want- shit, I want you. I want to have you, in front of everyone,» he blubbers as he stares down at you «I don’t want to care if they see us being too sweet or clingy and just being a couple»

Jungkook isn’t filtering his words anymore. His chest feels heavy and now he realises that- it was this that was making him annoyed. Getting to you for a second but feeling distant the second later, this continuous game of seesaw where you’re on the same board, apparently on the same page but still so far and out of reach, you balance yourself on the same point only for just a second, and then you’re back to where you were.

His breath fans your face and your hair tickle your skin, he lays his forehead on yours: «I can’t hold it back, I’ve been holding myself back for so much time that… I don’t want to. And I know that you need time and you’re doing this to get used to us and it’s going to happen soon anyway but- I just wish I could show you. I want to do the same that Jin does with Hana and Yoongi with Hyunjoo and even Jimin with Eunji, I-» he stops himself to let out a deep breath and tries to regain his lucidity.

He knows, he knows that you’re doing this to love him in the right way for you but… he just can’t hold it back anymore. Too much time, too many years, too many moments in which he wished he could just be more for you, too many feelings never told or shared. Your love is enough to keep him through all of this, to make him keep going without asking a second time to where you’re heading, but when you seem out of reach its just-

«It’s scary» he realises.

Silence fills the air up again and for a moment Jungkook feels as far as he’s ever been even though he’s in your arms in front of you, just an inch away.

«I’m scared» he breathes out. His eyes previously lost in thought now look at you with more focus.

«It reminds me of when we were friends and all I could do was wonder how it could be and have you only when we had sex. When I made love to you that time, I-» he shakes his head «I felt like it was going to be the most I could get of you, and I needed to cherish it and live it as much as possible cause I knew that you didn’t want more from me and that that was all I could get. Like I had to get enough from it, cause it was the closest I could have you and in the deepest way possible. That time, it felt consuming and I cried so much when you left my bed cause I knew- I knew that it was it, just that»

«Even though I had you in the deepest way possible you- you weren’t mine. And I know that it’s different now cause we talked about it and we’re trying but- I don’t want to feel this,» his fingers cradle the shirt on his chest «I don’t want to get just enough of you»

He munches on his lips for a few seconds, eyes low on his shoes as he tries to understand the right words to say, they just get mixed up and all he can do is hoping for you to realise what he’s meaning.

«I want to love you. I wanna be sweet and gentle and I want to see your eyes shine when you look at me cause you’re in love with me as much as I’m in love with you. I don’t want to always wish for us to be alone to be able to have you in this way, and I know that you’re doing this to get used to us and feel more comfortable but it’s making me lose my mind. Taehyung is always hugging you and doing all kinds of stuff and I’m- I’m your boyfriend» it sounds more like a question than an affirmation «and I can’t even hug you as I used to cause you think they would understand. I can do it, but know just- it’s killing me»

His rant comes to an end. He just shuts his mouth, regains his breath as he looks at your face, he desperately tries to understand what you’re thinking and feeling, his heart thumps in his throat and he’s sweating even though it’s almost about to rain and there’s a soft wind blowing. Truth is, his words leave you thoughtless. You don’t know what to think, what to say, what’s the right answer. Because inside you, you’re the one who wants him wholly. You want him, crave for his love, need his lips, yearn for his comfort and words, breathe for his presence. But outside, when you’re met with the world, all you can do is face the way you are and understand what you should be doing to make this relationship solid and strong. Maybe you’ve been wrong all along and should’ve just lost your senses to him from the very beginning. You should’ve told to everyone what happened between you and should’ve just took it as it was, but something inside you doesn’t fit well with it because you just don’t feel ready enough. You love him, you love him so much you’d be ready to do everything he asks you to, but this somehow makes you quiver.

«I’m scared too,» you breathe «cause what if- like, what if we do this and it doesn’t work? What if we’re not ready, if I can’t love you right? I know Jungkook my friend and how to love you in that way, I don’t- it’s sounds stupid, but what if the way I love you isn’t what you were seeking for me all this time and I just- let you down? If I’m not enough and everyone knows, what will we do then, these are the thoughts that stop me. Not for our friends or in general, but for us too, how will we act? I’m scared because- fuck, the thought of losing you makes me freeze in fear, Jungkook. I’m trying, I’m really trying to getting used to this but before- before it was… it didn’t feel like a thin line between us. Like, I knew that you were there even if we screamed and yelled at each other, you were just there. If we break up, our friendship… what will happen to that? What-»

«It’s not happening» he cuts you off. You shake your head.

«You say that now, but-»

«No, I say it cause it’s not happening, in any near vision of the future I have or the rarest ones» his nostrils flatter as he speaks and his tone is firm and still as a mountain on the ground, roots deep and strong in his soil.

«I loved you for six years. I went through hell just to get to this, I loved you for every second of the day and all I did was be beside you,» he clenches his jaw «it’s simply not happening. For me, at least. I know what I feel, and I know that the only reason I kept staying beside you was because of you, simply. I love you» his eyes are watering.

«I love you so much that I don’t picture myself without you. I don’t see a future where you’re not in it, and even though I know I could live without you, I just don’t want that» he shakes his head with vigour, his eyes glued to yours make you gulp harshly.

«Even when we fight, even now. It’s still the same as before, you can yell at me and tell me that you hate me, that I’m annoying, I’m a jerk or whatever the hell you want but- I’m grounded. I don’t move, I don’t care. If there’s a scenario in which you won’t love me anymore then-» he cuts himself off, his right eye spilling out a tear that marks his cheek «all I could do would be to accept it. But that won’t happen for me. I know it, it won’t. I’ll be waiting with my arms open like I told you last time and the time before, even in this kind of relationship. You’re still my best friend, other than my partner and- I won’t waver. I promise you, and I’m so sorry if in some way I made you think that you couldn’t love me in the way I want you to cause- no» he scoffs as his eyes fill up more with tears.

«Hell, no. There’s no one that could love me in a better way, I- your love is just- it consumes me. It makes me feel in all kinds of way and I can’t get enough of it. I want it, all the time and in every situation because of that» he sniffles and licks his lips, the salty taste of tears makes him look down once more to the ground.

«I don’t want to pressure you. I don’t want to do anything that might scare you off and I’m as scared as you now cause- what if you’re saying this cause you’re- you’re giving up? You don’t want… I can’t even say it»

«Jungkook, no» something inside you makes you grab him by his shoulders. His lips are reddish and his cheeks wet make your eyes tingle. Shit, no.

«What if I scared you off with everything I said? You might say no now but if you’re not ready to tell them, it means you’re insecure about us, right?» his lips tremble slightly and god, your heart clenches.

«You don’t know if there’s a future for us, what I see isn’t there for you» his voice is so thin that you feel you’re about to break. And as if it wasn’t enough, it starts to rain almost as if someone from the clouds was listening ready to answer to all of his negative thoughts with a sign. His eyes stay on yours though, a shadow of fear lights them up just to hide between his pupils a second later. Jungkook munches the inside of his upper lip.

«You know I don’t move fast and I like things to take their time, right? It was just what I feel but it doesn’t have to be what you feel now, but I love you. For real baby, it doesn’t matter if for now you don’t see us together in the future, just-»

«I see that, Jungkook» you stop his words with a caress of your hand on his wet cheek, nodding. You could- you couldn’t bare the thought of him having such worries in his mind, not when your soul is so intertwined with his that you can’t see anymore where yours starts and ends.

«I see it, but it feels scary cause we’ve never been on this path before. It’s different, but I see us in that way. I’m just scared that my fantasy might not become reality, that’s- that’s why I wanted to get used to this first but now- I can’t» you shake your head. You see his face go from relieved to understanding to scared again, hands grabbing your sides at the fear of you walking away and out of his reach for the last part of your statement. He tells himself to breathe, to just wait for you to speak and relax but all he can do is hold his breath until he’s running out of air.

«I can’t do this if it hurts you. I don’t want to, so- what… what do you think we should do? Do you want to tell them? Do you-»

«I didn’t tell you all of that to convince you to tell them. It was just becoming too much and I couldn’t hold it anymore in, you don’t have to- I mean, maybe I hoped you would’ve, but you don’t have to» he pulls you closer to nuzzle his face against your neck once more. His tears wet your skin and you feel his hot breath fanning you when he realises a sigh at the contact, your body still close and your arms wrapping around him once more just as you did at the beginning of your talk. It’s reassuring, familiar. It makes him relax a bit and melt into you.

«To have you like this it’s not enough because I wish I could show you and give you more than what I can give when we’re only by ourselves, but if that’s what you want and need now…»

«Let’s tell them» you blurt. Your hand caresses his hair, eyes staring at the wall in front of you. Jungkook hums with a cute astonished tone that makes you scoff and tell yourself that it will be okay, his face raises to yours to study your features. You gulp down your insecurities for as much as you can and nod at him.

«Let’s tell them. I don’t want to hurt you by keep doing this. I think that-» you breathe in deeply, pondering on what his words made you realise just a second ago «my doubts are still going to be here for as long as I don’t get comfortable enough with this, like with myself not being scared. If it will take long, we’ll have to act like this for too much time? And I guess that if my fears are going to become real it will happen anyway even if they don’t know»

«What do you mean it will take long?» he smacks your asscheek lightly, a endearing smile appears on his lips. It makes you smile too.

«It will take long to get used to me loving you?» he scoffs loudly, eyes moving to the side for a second and then getting back to yours.

You giggle at him, squeeze him tighter «You know what I mean» you huff.

«And yes, I’m still not used to you loving me in this way too»

«I will help you get used to it,» he pecks your cheek «just please do what you feel more comfortable to. Don’t feel pressured or forced, I don’t wanna do that. Whatever way, baby. I’m willing to accept whatever you can give me»

«Let’s not do that anymore,» you let out a shaky breath «maybe I need to feel a bit of pressure to do this, so please pressure me? Let’s go inside and just tell them? Pressure me, please»

Jungkook doesn’t mean to, but he laughs at your words. He laughs and throws his head back, hair a bit damp and laughter crystal clear and high pitched. Only when he comes back with his eyes on you the corners of his lips lower and set themselves on a little, sweet and reassuring smile that makes your heart fuller.

«Y/n, I can really wait. But just reassure me from time to time cause I’ve been holding back for so much and sometimes-»

«Can you reassure me too, now? And push me over the edge a little? It’s- bad to say it but I think I really needed for you to break out like this to make me gather the courage to face what really scared me. I think that it will help me to have you like this, in other situations too? Maybe it will feel more like before and my mind will stop drawing the line between friendship and- this, and realise that it’s just the same as before»

You really believe it, or at least have faith in it. Maybe feeling him the way you used to feel him before, without having to worry of getting yourselves away from the eyes of your friends or the others in general will make you feel more comfortable, more familiar with what you’re sharing without the fear of losing it, because it’s just the same as before. Jungkook is still your best friend, will always be. You want him to tease you when your hair are both grey and to kiss you when your energies won’t be as high as now, bring some comfort and sense of youthful to your older days. To be honest, you always had that image in your mind. Even when you didn’t know what you were feeling… Jungkook was always there, in your farthest visions of future, teasing and annoying the hell out of you with his ways but still there after all the time. It’s just the same as before with this too, you guess.

«And this? What’s this?» he pinches your hip teasingly, making you hiss at him.

«Aish, Jungkook!» you keen at the muffled pain and he beams lightly, covering the injured zone with his hand.

«Sorry,» he pouts, eyes big «does it sting?»

«A little, I felt better before» you scoff.

«This what?» you echo, he clicks his tongue.

«You said friendship and this. What’s this?» he’s smiling even as he speaks, cheekbones high. And with his eyes so deep and profound that shine even under the light drops of the rain you can see it from a mile away that he just wants to hear you say it out loud.

«This,» you peck his petals sweetly, his bottom lip sticks out a little to maintain the contact just a millisecond more as you part, eyes dreamy «relationship?»

He stretches out a hum: «So I’m you’re boyfriend now?» he scoffs.

You raise your eyebrows.

«You said that before. I was just following»

«Keep following then, I like it» he titters, doing his labelled nose scrunch that makes your insides twist and turn.

«We’re in a relationship» he hums again, all smiley and lovey-dovey. You shake your head.

«Are you a teen or what?» you laugh. His chuckles make the sound of the rain become faint until it’s just indistinct silence.

«Yah, stop teasing me! We never said that out loud»

«Just this once» you let go, slapping his asscheek.

«I think you have a problem with my butt,» he clicks his tongue «you like it a little too much, why do you slap it all the time?» he giggles.

«Aish, stop that. We should go back in» you shrug, Jungkook squeezes you just once more.

«That was- I was trying to push you over the edge?» he doesn’t even know what he’s saying.

«Guess that didn’t work» he scoffs. You can’t hold it, you kiss his lips and god yes, this works definitely. He totally wasn’t expecting it, not when you’re outside and your friends just meters away and could come out in any second, not in this way at least. So deeply and loving and needy that he moans in your mouth and his knees feel like jelly, your tongue moves in slow motions and takes all of his love from his chest just to make it yours cause it was yours already in the first place.

«Try something else?» you coo when you part. Jungkook breathes in deep, trying to regain what’s left of his sanity after your attempt at killing him with your sweet ways.

«Are you sure, you really want it?» his tone is serious, thoughtful as he looks for any signs of quiver on your face. Having you like this it’s too much too handle but the thought of forcing you into doing something that may make you uncomfortable feels worse. When you nod sure though, all he can do is promise to try to melt your insecurities more everyday with every part of him and love you in the most honest, vulnerable and deepest way he can. He knows it from the way you’re looking at him that you’re not going to change your mind, you’re just looking for his affirmation, you just need to be encouraged.

«If you really want to, let’s tell them,» he pecks your forehead «just, not today? I feel like they have to tell us something important and I don’t want to shift the spotlight on us»

«What something?» you wonder.

«Don’t know, but it’s weird that they invited just to celebrate officially. We all already knew they were expecting» he caresses your hip as he speaks, after all it makes sense, you guess. It’s been a while since they announced Hyunjoo was pregnant, why celebrate now? They would’ve done it sooner, maybe.

«Okay» you nod. It’s weird how you feel your body lighter, you weren’t realising it before but now you do notice the difference, and it feels- less burdensome. You needed this to let go of what was holding you down and to face your fears, to make your roots stronger in the soil. You just wish for the day you’ll tell them to come soon, because you suppose that the sooner it will be the easiest too to just let go wholly.

«Do you remember what I texted you when you went away?» he lays his chin on your head, speaks as you bend your arms to place your hands on his shoulders. You nod slightly from under him, fingers dipping into his skin as his words flash in your mind.

«It will always be like that,» he mumbles.

«even when you’re not beside me I’ll always keep my arms empty for you, even when things are fine. I’ll keep them open. Even if we fight and scream and hate each other in the moment»

You kiss his neck, when you blink against him your eyelashes tickle him, Jungkook shivers and he’s not sure if it’s because he’s feeling ticklish or because you do things to him that he can’t explain.

«I love you» you murmur, eyes looking up at him. The rain has wetted you hair a bit, thankfully it isn’t too much and it’s already stopping, but even like this you look like you were painted by the gods themselves to him. He holds his breath, smiles first with his eyes.

«I love you too, love»

When you came in your friends were cheerfully talking about Yoongi and Hyunjoo, when you strolled to the table your eyes met yours to check how you were doing. The smile that Jungkook flashed seemed enough to reassure them, making them go back to their conversation, Namjoon peeking over to double check Jungkook’s features.

He takes his sit, hands resting on his lap before he looks at the dish still full in front of him. The rice has cooled but he’s hungry and so are you, you hear Jimin ask meat to Jin and Yoongi, Hoseok scolds him and Taehyung laughs at his request, Eunji shakes her head. You eat your perilla leaf with the rice and linger in the slightly minty flavour, humming in contentment at the taste. Taehyung’s dish is empty and you feel his gaze pierce right through you as he peeks at Jungkook from time to time, obviously trying to understand his mood and what happened. You wonder if he knows at least a bit, if the others know too. Maybe Jungkook told them when he had feelings for you?

Eunji kicks her foot on your knee, eyes big and full of questions and you just shrug at her, making her click her tongue in annoyance. She must be thinking that you’re back to sleeping with Jungkook. You decide not to care for now, bringing another bite of food in your mouth, you will tell her soon. The evening goes on cheerfully just like most of the times; Jin talks about the restaurant, Hoseok tells you stories about his new class of dancers, Namjoon talks about the book he read recently and how it made him think about what Yoongi and Hyunjoo have.

«Yah, geumanhae» Yoongi moves his hands in front of his face, his cheeks red but he’s smiling.

«Hyung, for real!» you can say that Namjoon is enjoying making him flustered.

«It really made me think»

Hyunjoo smiles, tapping her hand on her boyfriend’s shoulder.

«What are you so shy about?»

«I’m not shy, I’m flustered»

«That’s the same thing!»

«It isn’t!» he raises her eyebrows at her. Namjoon shakes his head. Jimin’s laughter suddenly fills the table, loud and giggly he covers his mouth with his fist as he bends over the table.

«Sorry, but-» he laughs again «I just remembered when Yoongi hyung came home after meeting you for the first time» he points at Hyunjoo, eyes narrowed as he keeps giggling. Jungkook and you break out too, suddenly remembering the scene.

«Aish, hajima!» He whines again and throws his head back, but the scene was just so hilarious that it would be a waste not to share it.

«She has to know this» Jimin shrugs.

«What happened?»

«I was-» he keeps on laughing «I was cooking with Y/n and Jungkook was sitting on the couch. He came in staring at his phone and didn’t even see him»

Jungkook nods: «Actually, I was laying on the couch» he snorts

«Aigoo» she already pictures where this is going.

«He sat on him-»

«He didn’t just sit! He threw himself on the couch!» Jungkook cuts him off, face contracted in a scowl of pain.

«Me and Y/n-» he laughs pointing at you, full teeth on display.

«We just heard them from the kitchen but it was hilarious. Turns out he was staring at your pictures on Instagram» you explain.

«I never thought Yoongi hyung could wait so much,» Jungkook chuckles, hands rubbing his thighs «his weight, aish he isn’t even that big but I was sleeping and suddenly- bang!» the sound effect he makes at the end sends you rolling on the floor with laughter, Yoongi’s shocked sounds still echoing in your ears.

He covers his face with his hands, Hyunjoo laughs beside him as the others do the same. She pulls him to him, the man shakes his head and hides in in her neck, hair falling over to hide him from the embarrassment. You see her whisper something to him but don’t know what she’s saying, Yoongi nods slightly and sits back straight, a big smile on his face.

«After you’re done with making fun of me, we have something to announce» he clears his throat. Hyunjoo stands up from her chair, her hand reaching his shoulder again while she looks down at you all and Yoongi takes his place beside her with a big beam, his hand cupping her belly lovingly. Jungkook’s eyes shot wide open, lips contracted in a “o”. The table fills with silence, everyone is waiting for them to speak and you can feel the excitement bubble up for the news.

«We’re expecting-» she gets cut off by the dumbass beside you.

«A girl! I can feel it» you smack your best friend’s shoulder.

«Shut up» you scold. Hyunjoo laughs, her eyes on you two.

«Yoongi» she calls. The man beside her nods.

«A princess» he scoffs looking at Jungkook, annoyed and amused at the same time.

«It’s a girl!» he literally screams. After that it’s just smiles and happiness, everyone is clapping and the restaurant gets filled with hugs and pats and words of encouragement.

Jungkook grins widely, his teeth exposed and eyebrows raised he claps his hands and gets up to hug his friend, just after Jin. Your beam is contagious and it only makes Jungkook smile more, when you look at him his eyes sparkle. Promises to be the best aunts and uncles for the soon to come baby are shared, Yoongi is already talking about some names that they thought about, Hyunjoo has her eyes wet.

You can’t wait, nobody can’t. Seeing Yoongi get to know Hyunjoo and fall in love was one of the experiences that you feel lucky to have witnessed. You saw him madly in love, watched him when he thought that she wasn’t the type of person to go well with him because of their different personalities, saw them fall in love and fight more than a bunch of times and do it all over again. You remember when he told you he couldn’t live anymore without her, relive the time he cried with you and Jimin cause he was missing her when they had a bad fight and she needed to spend some time on her own, see them happy now after trying for a year. Their story brings tears to your eyes almost every time you think about it, it’s one of those that you would love to read about. You love both of them so much that you couldn’t wish for anything better, cause they already are the best of the best for each other, and all you can do is start to count the days until you’ll meet the result of their incredible love.

Your house is silent and the atmosphere cozy, Jungkook’s fingers are softly stroking your hair on the couch and your mind is full of him and him only. How he talked to you today, the words he said, the safeness and reassurance they brought to your uneasy mind, the love in his eyes and the salty tears on his cheeks. It fills you up until you feel an odd sense of belonging and yearning come together and take every living fibre of your body. You snuggle your nose into the side of his neck, his hand runs down your side to engulfs you into him, back against his chest and one of his legs crossing yours laid on the pillows. Jungkook’s chest is firm under you but incredibly comfortable and you find it so big that you feel the need to turn around and hide your face into it just to feel him closer.

Jungkook lets out a airy breath, the softness of your hair makes his fingertips oversensitive just to take in every single detail of you, your body soft and totally limp on top of him to adore, to squeeze and nuzzle into. He wishes he could freeze this moment and make it last for more than he could ever ask for, remember the sensation of it all and keep it locked inside him for when he feels low-spirited or weary.

«Have to shower» you mumble not really inclined to leave his embrace. Jungkook pecks your head sweetly, nods under you but squeezes you tighter.

«I have to shower too. Do you wanna cuddle afterwards or are you going to bed?» his cute lisp makes you smile.

«Wanna cuddle» you munch on your lips, you wish you could see his face when you add «in the shower»

«Hmm?» his hum is one of those that slip out when he’s excited, slightly high pitched and not sure if he heard your words right.

«Let’s shower» you nod sitting up and turning your head to him. Laid on the pillows, his mouth is open and his eyebrows raised.

«Do you want to?»

«Do- do y-you mean together?» he stutters a bit, totally taken aback. His eyes are sparkling with hope and his enthusiasm is given out when he as soon as he speaks, the cute stutter habit he’s always had when he’s enthusiastic. You nod slightly and Jungkook snaps up with his eyes wide.

«Rea- really?»

«Yes,» you smile amused«if you want to?»

«Oh-aish, yes!» he nods eagerly but stops before he passes the point of not return.

«But- are you sure? We don’t ha-»

«I’m sure,» your eyes stay firm into his «I was scared of this too, I guess»

He gulps down, hands coming back to your sides as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

«Open up to me?» his request is low, as if he doesn’t want it to sound like an obligation but more like an invitation, soft and muffled and honey-coated. When he kisses your cheek lovingly you dive deeper against him, the firmness of his chest behind you and the cage of his arms around you make you feel safe in a way that you could never describe. You feel the most frail when you’re in his arms and the most intrepid you’ve ever been at the same time, it makes your chest swell up with a feeling that is bittersweet and so deep that you feel like drowning.

«I guess- I didn’t want us to get too sexual?» you shake your head.

«I thought that it would end up with us fucking, every time you asked me to shower together. It’s probably just the same as sleeping in the same bed, I guess»

Jungkook munches on his lips, slightly nodding.

«You don’t want that?» he’s not asking because he wants that to happen but to understand you fully.

«I don’t know,» you huff «I didn’t, I think. But now I don’t know, like- I was scared that by being too sexual we- kind of lost sense? And I wanted things to move at their pace, not to rush. We’re living together already and it’s like we kind of skipped the part of the beginning of the relationship, the part where you get to know each other»

«I don’t think we’re in that part,» he lets out, hands rubbing your hips «we’ve been in that part already, I think? We know each other- deeply too»

«I know, but like- know each other in a relationship like the one we have now» you explain. He nods again.

«I got what you mean. But I think it’s- we love each other» he brushes his nose against the column of your neck just to tickle you «if we’re already there, how can we go back to getting to know each other? Like- I know what you mean, but I think that only comes with time? Wether you start from something that’s different from what we already had or from our starting point- I just know that I love you. And by that I mean that I want you in whatever way you’re able to have me and be. I don’t care if I find something that I might find annoying or- I love you. I just- want you»

«I realise it now» you squeeze his cheeks between your thumb and the rest of your fingers, his lips puffy and shutting up. Jungkook frowns, hums annoyed but let’s you do your thing, booping his nose and kissing the soft flesh of his cheek. When you let go, his act of displease shatters in pieces and a big beam replaces it on full display.

«I didn’t before»

His arms squeeze you more, he shuts his lips for a while. The feelings in his chest get so mixed up that it’s hard to discern them, he just wishes that you could read through them all to see how transparent they are in fact.

«I love you» he hums, tone childish. It’s so out of the blue that you find yourself giggling and shaking your head, eyes rolling at the way he squeezes you to him. He bites your shoulder lightly as he nuzzles his nose into your skin.

«And what do you mean by losing sense?» he suddenly stops, voice muffled.

«Losing sense, like- only getting sexual? Doing things just to get there, I don’t want that»

«I don’t want that neither, baby» he breathes and rests his chin on you again, hydrates his lips with his tongue.

«I love when we have sex. I love it, it’s like- some type of magic and it’s so intimate and vulnerable that it makes me overwhelmed every time, but- I don’t want you to think that it has to end like that» he shakes his head.

«If it ends like that it’s good, but it doesn’t have to. I love doing things with you just for the sake of it, cause you- you’re the person I want to share myself with»

Your head rests on his shoulder as you let his words engulf you, tone lovely and calm.

«And it- we don’t lose sense if we feel like being sexual too. It’s beautiful, it means that we’re comfortable with each other that much»

«I know but when I think about it, it scares me» you let out a heavy breath.

«Eunji… do you remember how it ended up with that guy?»

«Eunji, what- what guy? The security guard?» he frowns totally out of place. You smack him on his thigh lightly, a scoff coming out of your lips.

«No, Koo. Hyun?»

«Hyun?» his mind is totally blank.

«Hyun, the lawyer. The guy that she was friend with for a little and-»

«Oh! Yes, I remember him» he nods eagerly.

«What does it have to do with us?»

«I don’t know, but- when I talked to her about us and we weren’t together yet she remembered me of what happened with him. I guess that thought blocked me too»

«Eunji knows?» he turns his face, eyes big and lips open.

«She doesn’t, she knows that we used to sleep together though»

He scrunches his nose, goes back to caress your hair.

«What happened with him was- it’s not us. They didn’t have anything. We- we love each other. We’ve been friends for a long time, we saw each other in every way» he puffs out a breath.

«And even if there are times when we’ll get too sexual, that doesn’t mean that we’re just looking for sex. There’s more, there’s trust, there’s-» he stops his rant because you peck his nose «stop that, I’m trying to be serious»

«Oh, sorry» you face in front of you and Jungkook scoffs, giving up just to peck your cheek.

«Baby, for real» he whispers.

«I think it’s normal that in a relationship there are times or periods when there is a high sex drive but that doesn’t mean that we’re looking just for sex or love each other any less»

«I know,» you nod «I’m just scared to get too caught up into it and lose what I have around me- like, lose you»

«It won’t happen,» he clicks his tongue «it won’t cause even if we get too caught up with it, it’s not- just sex» he digs his chin deeper into your shoulder.

«It’s more, I’m not fucking you just because you’re sexy or I find you attractive- it’s a whole different thing. It’s-» his fingers turn your face to make your eyes meet him.

«I’m making love to you. Even if we fuck each others brains out or have sex in Taehyung’s bathroom, there’s always more. There are always emotions and feelings and how much I love you. Every time, every single time. Even- if it’s not romantic at all and it’s just rough and needy, I- love you»

«And to know that you could trust me that much- to make me have that part of you, to allow me to live you in that way too makes me feel so fucking good and happy. How- how could that make us senseless or pointless? It’s love, I’m always making love to you»

«Fuck, stop. You’re gonna make me cry» you don’t think you can hold his words for much longer. Hearing him say things like this makes your brain melt and your insides twist with warmth and safeness and you wish you could just hide from the world and cry your eyes out for how much and how deeply you love him.

He huffs a giggle, kisses your nose, stares at your wet eyes. Jungkook wants to give you everything you never had, everything he can give and more than both you and him could ever imagine. He wants to shower you with all the love he has inside him and with every little spark of it that colors the world. If he could take the light from the sun just to add a drop of love and appreciation to your world, he would do it right the fuck now. You make him want to lose himself and never find it again, live in the melody of your laughter and only see the sight of your smile. If his senses could be commanded he’d feel only when his fingers trace your curves and every part of you, from head to toe, he’d smell only your perfume and taste only your kisses and your salty tears, hear only your laughter and your voice when you sing and see only your eyes and how your shoulders swell when you laugh.

«I’m- I’m here for whatever you’re willing to give and I’ll wait for the things that you don’t feel comfortable with yet» he whispers.

You smile, and fuck, the love he has for you. An incredible amount that he never thought was possible, so much that it makes him crazy and desperate to give it in every way possible. His lips peck yours softly, so lovingly and so feather-like that he feels you shiver against him, back pressed into his chest and his arms wrapped so tight that a world outside doesn’t exist anymore. His lips are soft and they make you addicted with the feelings they bring, your eyes stay shut even when you part. He keeps you close and rests his forehead on yours, smiles at your expression as lost as his.

«I love you,» his thumb strokes your cheek «so freaking much I can’t put it into words»

«I know,» you push yourself more into his hand «it’s the same for me. I just- love you»

When you open your eyes, you’re not sure where the hell you’ve been for all your life. Because to lose this sight- for god’s sake, it’s almost laughable how anyone wouldn’t stop to just stare at him. Yours, he’s yours and he’s always been and for all this time, all these worries and all your insecurities- they can’t outbalance this. Nothing can, nothing when he makes you feel this way, this loved and cherished.

«Let’s shower,» you puff out «let’s shower»

As if it wasn’t clear enough for him the first time. Jungkook nods and his lips peck you once more, when he looks in your eyes to check if you’re certain about what you’re doing they don’t shift, don’t budge for a nanosecond. They stay firm, staring into his pupils and spurring him on more to leave the couch and take care of you and show you how deep his love is. And fuck, it’s so deep that there’s no end to him anymore.

There’s no end to the affection his arms carry with your body between them, holding you close to him even when he’s standing and you’re smacking his ass lightly and making him giggle, no such depth was ever measured in the world. The intimacy between your souls could never be described, it’s so emotional and compelling that you both feel it in your bones, in every nerve, every fibre of your bodies. You’re addicted to it, in love with it and with him with every living piece of you.

You stroll to the bathroom, Jungkook engulfs you in his arms, he stomps his feet against the floor making the both of you stumble twice, giggles filling the air as you enter the room. He opens the water of his shower, checks the temperature before taking off his clothes and laying them on the counter beside the sink, eyes meeting yours when he sees you standing still and eyeing him. Totally naked, you can’t tear you eyes off of him. It’s like his body was painted by Botticelli, Da Vinci maybe. Lines perfect, every ridge and curve sweet but incredibly excruciating, agonisingly beautiful so. Skin yellowish and fair, lips reddish and full, long slender fingers beckoning you to him to hold you close, closer. Close is never enough with you. His cock is half hard but Jungkook doesn’t want to do anything about it, he just wants to feel you like this, have you in this way, linger in the trust you have in him.

You let him hug you, let him kiss you drunk.

Your fingers on his skin feel so good that he doesn’t think he will ever get used to them, they stroke his back as his hands reach the hem of your dress to help you out of it.

«I love you so much» he lays a smooch on your cheek.

«We say it so much» you mumble as you hide your face in his neck. He kisses your shoulder, lets his hand dance on your back in lovingly motions.

«Cause we love so much» he breathes.

His words leave you spinning, your mind is empty but your heart is full and swollen, your eyes travel back on his face to flash a smile at him.

«Undress me» you nod.

He beams devilishly, «Uh? We’re getting confident»

«Oh, shut up,» you shake your head «gonna do it myself-»

«No, no. Let me» he holds you still. His fingers lower back to the edge of your dress, as he grabs the cloth to make it slide on your skin he keeps his sight on your face and feels his lungs losing air when your cheeks color of a faint shade of red, the dress halfway over your hips. His soft lips caress your nose, your forehead and a second later he slides the material off of your arms in the air and over your head- no, he leaves it on your face.

«Jungkook!» your irritated tone makes him erupt in a laugh and finally he takes it off. Your lips are contracted in a pout, a scowl on your face.

«You’re so annoying» you whine.

«I like annoying you,» he pulls you closer to him «you’re cute when you pout»

«I’m always cute» you nod jokingly.

«Aish, too much is too much,» he shakes his head, his right hand smacking your asscheek lightly «should I shut you up?»

«That’s rude» your eyes widen.

«Why? With kisses?» he clicks his tongue.

«Kisses? Oh-»

«You thought I meant-» he stops to laugh, high pitched and melodious «rude?»

«The way you said it was rude, not the- wait, don’t laugh! So annoying, I hate you»

«Aish, such a crybaby» he fondles you into his arms, his nose nuzzles into the crook of your neck and you let the blood that rushed to your cheeks get back to its usual path by hiding your face on his chest.

«It’s not the right moment for that,» he breathes «now I just want to take care of you and shower you with kisses»

«Your cock is hard» you hum sternly, making him scoff.

«Let it be,» he puffs out «we don’t have to do anything about it. I just wanna have you like this,» he kisses your shoulder blade «close and intimate»

His fingers tickle your thighs, they slide perfectly over the cloth of your stockings and he hums on your skin when he hooks his fingers over the band, parting enough to take them off. When he’s done, you finally build up the courage to look down, and god- you wish you didn’t. He’s on his knees, starry night eyes looking up at you, deep and love drunk, totally lost. He look ethereal and so fucking pretty that your knees buckle and you have to close your eyes for a second, only to regain what’s left of yourself.

Jungkook’s fingers travel all the way up from your ankles to your calves, to your knees and your thighs, until they reach your hips and he cups them softly. He kisses under your belly button, makes you look back down at him and a second later he’s lowering your panties and you feel so exposed that you want to cover your eyes. It’s stupid, you know it well but to have him like this, looking at you with his nose almost against your pelvis and his eyes drawing stars in your sky, it’s different than having him in bed. You were making love all the times you were naked in front of each other, and even though you were so exposed that you felt your soul burn with his touch, having him like this hits in a different way, the same intensity, the same love for each other, the same feeling in your chests but just with a different meaning to it.

You lift your feet one at a time to help him get the garment fully off, balancing on one leg and steading yourself with your hand on his shoulder, but when he takes them off he doesn’t get up. You see his cock twitch but his eyes never leave yours, not even when he gets closer and lays the sweetest and consuming kiss on your mound, so chaste but loving and addicting that your heart stops beating. He pushes on the ball of his feet and stands up to tower again over you, a little smile takes over his features and his eyes narrow a little, drunk by the feeling of having you like this.

Your hands move on their own, grabbing his fingers and guiding them behind your back. Jungkook smiles more, pecks your neck and your cheek, the tip of your nose and your shoulder as he fumbles with the clasp of your bra, pushes the straps down your shoulders and lets the garment slide off when he parts from you, a shiver of coldness making his way on your skin at the loss of the warmth that his body provided. He can’t wrap his head around you, how beautiful you are. Every inch of skin makes his fingers itch because he’s just that desperate to feel you, even wantonly.

«You’re breathtaking» his words comes out frail, totally vulnerable and overwhelmed.

«I love you,» he shakes his head, feeling dumb for not being able to find a word that represents his feelings more «I love having this part of you- so exposed, just for me» his shoulders fall, and it seems to you that he’s almost surrendering to the hold you have on him; in fact, he is.

«I promise you, baby, there’s always more. It’s not just when we’re having sex, it’s whatever we do. Whatever I do, there’s always more. You’re- you’re love. You’re the meaning of love- for me. Everything I do, even when I annoy you or just make dinner for you or even when we fight or- it’s because I love you so much it fucking overwhelms me. Whatever we do together, don’t ever think that it’s for the sake of it cause- fuck, I love you all the time, everything I do» he breathes.

The distance between you doesn’t get along to the feeling of warmth you’re craving for, especially when he’s opening himself so much that his chest is looking for air and his voice is full of tenderness. You take a step closer and hold him in your embrace, Jungkook breaths out heavily, his hair tickle your skin.

«So don’t ever think that it’s just about being sexual. It’s not- it’s not like that at all. Every time you- every time you look at me, I could combust just by that. Like this too, having you like this now too makes me feel like I’m- don’t know, can’t even explain it» his voice gets more feeble as he speaks until all there’s left is his whisper in your ears and the thumbing sound of your heart echoing in the bathroom.

Jungkook is- fucking hell, he’s your world. The colours you perceive, the air you breathe, the softness of your sheets, the warmth of the fire in full winter, your favorite dish, the feeling you get when a long and tiring day is finally over. He’s everything and anything all at once and it makes you want to let go of yourself and find yourself at the same time, love deeper than what you could’ve ever imagined.

«I won’t,» you hug him tightly «I won’t do it anymore. Thank you, for- loving me as much as I love you»

Your words have a strange hold on him, he smiles so fucking big but his eyes tingle and he has to bite down on his lips to keep himself rational, cause fuck- he’s still not used to this either. To finally feel you his, under his fingers, in his hold, to have your heart. All the love he had to held back sometimes slaps him in the face and when he faces the reality now it just makes him dizzy.

«Don’t- thank me for that,» he nuzzles his face into you more «I don’t think I could ever stop»

You feel something wet on your skin, just slightly. Jungkook sniffles, and then you get it. Your hands fumble with his hair as you kiss his skin, your fingertips dig into his back.

«Did I- did I make you-»

«No,-» he gulps down, raises his head to look at your eyes «I’m- just- fuck, I’m sorry I cry a lot lately» he scoffs to himself.

«No! No baby, just- let it out» you peck his nose. He scrunches it cutely, takes in a staggered breath.

«It’s nothing, I just- sometimes it still doesn’t feel real. To hear you say that- made me emotional, I guess»

You smile at him. It’s sweet and home-like and a second later you’re squeezing him tighter to you and Jungkook decides to let go. He lays his chin back on your shoulder, closes his eyes, lets your motions lull him and your touch relax him. His cock is tight between you and with your movements you make it a little uncomfortable for him not to focus on the way it throbs and perceives every slight touch as pleasure, but he just lets it be. Having you close like this, so intimately and intoxicatingly bare for him makes him pine to find new ways of loving you, new ways of worshipping every invisible part of you, even the littles ones that no one else ever noticed, not even yourself.

«Are we going in?» you puff out on his skin. He nods his head but doesn’t part yet, strokes your hair just once more.

«I wanna lather you all up» he giggles airily and backs away, beckons you with his head to walk in the shower. Your cheeks are flushed when you take a step towards it with his eyes on you and your body, totally love drunk. He doesn’t look at you with mischief, with something that screams for more though, Jungkook just feels grateful to have this part of you. And when he comes in too you feel your heart beat louder because when you look up at him you see it truly, without even having to try; he loves and burns and drowns and breathes just to do it all over again, with you taking over every part of him. It makes you defenceless, more than you could ever handle. It makes you give up, let your hands fall and just open up to him in every way possible cause the safeness you feel with him, in this little space, right against each other, totally exposed and vulnerable, couldn’t reach you even if you were covered and tucked in the warmest blanket.

You don’t even realise you’re drenched under the water until his hair stick to his face and he pushes them back to regain his sight, totally entranced when he hugs you under the jet. It’s warm, cozy and it feels like the sweetest place in the world when his fingers dig slightly into your skin and he nuzzles against you. He does it a lot, a habit that he doesn’t think he could ever get tired of. It makes him feel closer even if it’s just for a second, it’s intimate and he likes the feeling of you so much that not doing it almost feels like squandering.

«Thank you» it’s muffled by the sound of the water and his lips on your skin but it’s enough to reach your ears.

«For what?» you hug him back. Jungkook hums lightly.

«For letting me have this part of you,» he whispers «for trusting me this much»

«You know you’re the person I probably trust the most»

«I know,» his lips lay a mushy kiss on your shoulder «thank you»

You smile and try to move slightly but with his body towering over yours it’s kind of mocking how you don’t manage to move of an inch.

«Soap,» you call out «come to me!»

And Jungkook is back with his giggles, crystal clear even under the water dropping down and filling up the space.

«What? Why are you like this?» he snickers.

«You won’t make me move!» you laugh.

«I told you I’ll do it,» he clicks his tongue, still giggly «if you call it do you think it’ll come over?»

«Maybe?» you snort «Who knows?»

«Aish, jinjja» he shakes his head incredulous, his nose scrunching when he parts to look at you.

«Don’t scrunch your nose at me» you point your finger on his chest.

«What- why?»

«Too cute,» your fingertip taps on his pec for twice or thrice «can’t stay focused»

«Too bad that now I know it?» he beams, pushes a strand of your hair away from your face.

«Aish- don’t use it against me,» you warn «are you gonna lather me or not?»

«Did I told you you’re annoying today?» he scrunches his nose, once more.

«You did,» you nod «I’m used to it»

«Unbelievable» his hand lays with a snack on your asscheek.

«Yah, and you say I’m the one who always slaps you»

«I still didn’t get the chance to kiss it» he munches on his lips, obviously teasing you with the conversation you had while making love for the first time.

«First you should focus on the bodywash»

He scoffs, gets the bottle from the shelf behind you.

«Okay, now do I get to kiss it?»

«Jungkook!» you literally shriek and he laughs so loud that it becomes all you can hear. You watch his eyes narrow and his head fall back, his shoulders raise and fall and all you want to do is make your annoying best friend shut up and stop being so pestiferous with his teasing but you end up laughing too. Jungkook holds you against him and god, you don’t want to live another life if it doesn’t include this too.

«I’ll stop-» he laughs «I’m just teasing you»

«I know,» you nod «you do it a lot»

He gains back his composure, closes the jet and squashes the bottle to get the right amount of soap on his hand, putting it down just behind you afterwards. He rubs his hands together a bit, just enough to get some lather. He kneels down. Looks up at you. Smiles. His hands grace over your left thigh, just above your knee.

«Does it bother you?» he coos. You take a deep breath to gather your mental strength.

«Not really»

«It comes so naturally with you,» he smiles, his hands start to caress your skin with just the right amount of pressure as he rubs the soap in «we’ve always been like this»

«You more than me,» you shrug «it’s normal»

«It is,» he kisses your hip and you feel like you’re going to die for how much you love him «it’s my love language, I guess»

«I think it’s just your language» you scoff. Your hand moves fast and a second later he’s squeezing his eyes and hissing in surprise at your mischief actions, soaked under the jet while you giggle. You close it just a second later, glancing at the way he bites on his lips.

«Its yours too, apparently» he squeezes your thigh, lowers his hands on your calf.

«Sometimes I wonder if it’s my fault that you’re like this»

«Like this what?» you help yourself on his shoulder, Jungkook beams at you lovingly but his teasing goes on.

«So annoying» he moves on on lathering your foot, the tickly feeling of his fingers makes you wince.

«Oh, yes» you nod.

«I had to survive one way or the other»

«Kiss?» he puckers his lips.

«Hhm?»

«Kiss, give me a kiss?» he coos all smiley. It makes you scoff, how he can move from one thing to another so quickly. Jungkook lets go of your leg as he’s done with his ministrations and you bend to lower yourself to him, his lips still wrinkled and waiting. It’s wet and just a peck but it makes you see the stars and the ocean all at once, the closeness of it.

He lathers your other thigh, your knee, your calf, your foot, gets back up to tell you how pretty and beautiful you are, teases you some more. And then he‘s kneeling again and squashing the bottle of the intimate soap, you didn’t even notice him grabbing it from the shelf behind you, with his eyes focused on the task as he rubs his hands together.

He kisses your hips one at a time, chaste and full affection, his eyes meet yours and when he smiles at you, you know he means something more: «I got you» he blows.

His arm comes around you, his hand on the lower part of your back and the other one cups your pelvis, soft fingers laying just slightly on your lips. You hold your breath as Jungkook lets his fingers slide against you, they part your lips, move forwards and backwards to soap you up properly, rubbing against your most intimate part with such care and such platonically innocence that you feel your soul dance and smile. You feel loved all over, all inside. And when you smile back at him, gosh, it could sound stupid but he thinks this is one of the moments he’ll live again when he sleeps. When he dreams about you, heart pounding and exploding even with his eyes closed and his light snores breaking the silence of the night.

«You’re so pretty» the fingers on your back tap against your skin, his cheeks are full and his eyes starry. He lays a kiss on your mound just like he did before outside of the shower, all smiley and dovey and you want to squeeze him so hard until he bursts out in nothing but pink stars and dreamy clouds.

«Come back up here» you pat his shoulder. Jungkook nods, but only does so in his own way. He kisses slightly upper above your mound, upper again, again and again and more upwards until he passes your navel and still keeps going, he lays a path that divides you in two parts, split open all the way to the valley between your breasts and then up to the meeting point of your clavicles, to your throat and your chin. It’s intoxicating, you feel totally inebriated.

Your lips were made for him to kiss them, sure as hell they were. So soft, pillowy, consuming, breathtakingly so. It makes him desperate, he can’t help it, helpless and so fucking in love every second more.

«You make me-» you take in a deep breath before he pecks your lips «feel like…»

«Like what?» he huffs against them, nuzzling his nose to yours.

«Don’t know. Like giving up» you puff. Jungkook snorts, scrunching his nose.

«Giving up?» he hums.

«To… everything,» it’s hard to put it into words «to your… love. Feel so overwhelmed everytime»

«If you do that…» he doesn’t finish his sentence, air running out with you so close.

«If I do that…» you smile. Jungkook breathes in through his mouth.

«I’d look after you,» he pecks your lower lip «please, give up» his tone is low, a little whiny, floaty.

«Just for once,» his hand cups your cheek, his thumb moves upwards and downwards with the most saccharine motions «I love you so much»

«I’m doing it already,» you scoff to yourself «I do it every time. I forged up all of that because I don’t have defences around you. I’m always giving up, you’re too-» you gag on your air silently, shaking your head and trying to regain what’s left of you «inebriating»

«Let it consume you then,» he kisses your forehead «cause I can’t stop. Can’t fucking stop, it’s too much. I love you too much, I want you to feel it,» he pushes you closer to him until his chest is tight against you and his eyes still fixed into yours «cause I feel it from you. And it takes over me. You love me so good, in every possible way»

He reaches your hand and his slender fingers interlock with yours to guide your palm on his chest, just a few inches on the left from the middle. He leaves your hold just to push your palm on his skin; his heart beats under you, loud but melodious, steady and proud.

«That’s what you do to me,» he keeps his touch on your hand, fingers stroking your wrist «that’s what you’ve been doing for all these years. Not a second- there was not a second that it didn’t beat for you»

Your world spins. Even as he kisses the crown of your head sweetly and hugs you for a minute more, even when he goes back to lather the rest of you up, your hair, your word spins. You want him forever. You want him in every way, every day. You want him after a long day and on a relaxing one, on a beach somewhere lost in the world and welcoming you home, you just- can’t control it. It’s so powerful and so deep and so incredibly real and intimate that you feel grounded to earth but high flying in the sky. This is what love is. Love is Jungkook.

He opens the jet again after lathering himself up, his hair are covered in bubbles and his cheeks full make him look like the happiest he’s ever been, eyes glittering with shining stars. He lets his hands caress you to help the water wash away the soap, lays love over every part of your body with the touch of his palm and his fingertips, kisses you when you smile and it’s too much to control himself, nuzzles his nose on you, the water spraying over your bodies and his arms caging you in. For the first time, you feel it more real, even more than before; how somewhere in a different universe you’re holding each other in the same way, older and with even more memories than what you have now. Wrinkles on his skin and hair grey but your love is still the same, still consuming and taking over the both of you.

«Koo» you hide in his neck.

«Love» he hums. He feels your smile on his skin.

«I want…» you curl your fingers to stroke his hips. Jungkook levels your sight with his, two of his fingers push your chin up.

«I know that we said- this isn’t heading to anything else but… I want you to make love to me»

«Now?»

«Now,» you nod «but…»

«What?» his hand strokes your back, your cheeks flushed make him hug you tighter to show you how comfortable you can be with him.

«Rough,» you scoff at yourself, making him giggle and raise his palm to the back of your head to stroke your nape «fuck this, I’m not good with words»

«You’re doing amazing, sweetie» he shakes his head amused «talk to me?»

You shoulders raise, chest swells as you breath in: «I want you to… the stuff you said before, do that»

Jungkook laughs at your ways, keeps your figure safe in the cage of his arms as he scrunches his nose.

«You want me to fuck you?»

«Don’t laugh» you scold.

«I’m sorry,» he smiles «it’s just- you’re so endearing when you’re shy»

«Koo» you whine. He kisses your neck, nods.

«You want that?» he asks, his attention totally on your face. He takes in your expression, sees universes in your eyes.

«Yes,» you pause «show me that there’s more even though I know it already»

Clear and straight to the point. Fuck, he may explode from a second to another.

«Rough?» he breathes. Your heart is pounding in your ears so much that the thrill makes your knees feel like jelly.

«Rough,» you repeat «however you want it. I- want to just…» your sentence ends in silence, closing your eyes to the caresses of his fingers.

«Are you sure?»

«I am»

«Turn around,» he kisses your lips with tenderness but his tone is firm and your body feels so light you don’t even feel it as you do as he asks «bend down a little and put your hands against the wall»

Shit. It’s all you can think about as your chest lays on the marble. The coldness of the material makes you shiver as your hands follow, taking half a step backwards to bend for him. Jungkook stays still, totally entranced by you. Fuck, you make him crazy. Totally whipped. His head is whirling, his eyes are lost on the side view of your face and how beautiful you are with your skin glowing under the light of the bathroom, drops of water running down every inch of your body, the curve of your hips, the tenderness of your skin. God’s sake, you’re the end of him.

«Koo» you call. He shakes his head, takes a step forward.

«Sorry, got a little distracted» he hums against your ear, kissing your earlobe.

«You’re so beautiful» his breath hits your neck and the air makes you shiver, he feels you moving just the slightest, your face disconnecting from the wall.

«What are you going to do?» your tone makes him smile, curious but frail.

His lips reach the side of your neck and they disclose a wet kiss and then another one, one more. His chest adheres to your back, the underside of his cock brushing against your asscheek makes you writhe in your spot, he’s been so hard for so long and feeling him like this makes you hold your breath, but Jungkook doesn’t lose his calm. He keeps his sight on your face, his focus on you. His arms come around you, hands cupping your stomach and fingers opening to feel your skin, they stroke and caress you just right, his touch his light but secure and it is rewarded by you squirms and shivers, he makes you want to beg for more. He travels from your navel to between your breasts, then down again. One of his hands steadies on your left hip, the digits of his other one tickle you until he stops on your mound and your breath gets cut.

«Keep your hands on the wall» he whispers. You don’t even have time to realise what he’s saying because his fingers lower and they slide between your lips and you’re laying your head forward against the wall just at his touch.

«I want you to let go,» he kisses your skin, licks a patch of it from just right under your head to your shoulder «and just feel good»

His index finds your core, already wet for him. His cock twitches on you, you feel it move against your back as he gathers your wetness and moves on your clit, feather-like touch that makes you eager and yearn.

«Can you do that for me?» he huffs.

Your trembling breath is his answer. His finger moves on the pearl and your legs instantly squeeze around his hand at the sudden pleasure brought, his petals gifting sweet pecks on your shoulder. They make you relax your muscles and open your thighs again, his movement slow and just where you like it the most.

It lasts just for a bunch of seconds though, the air feels cold again when he parts and you close your eyes when you catch him kneeling down on the floor of the shower.

«Oh, fuck» you hiss in advance.

«You’re- I’m gonna die» your words make him laugh.

«Please don’t,» he giggles looking up at you, hands grasping the back of your thighs «just tell me if it’s too much?»

«Too much what?»

«Anything» he kisses the lower part of your back, eyes glued to your face. His nose brushes against your skin as he lowers himself and his hands move upwards, they burn your skin even when it’s still wet, he parts your asscheeks for his sight only.

Shit, Jungkook is about to lose his mind. Too pretty.

«Bend forwards just a little more for me?» he coos. When you do as he says, he’s able to get a better view of your pussy too and for god’s sake, he’s salivating just like she is. So wet, so freaking wet he wants to bury himself between your thighs and never face the world again.

«Fuck, baby. Did I do that?» he hisses through his teeth, lowering his hand to part your lips better with his fingers.

«Do I make you this wet?»

«Kook…» you let out a deep breath, on the edge of your calm.

«Tell me» he moves his finger on your clit, looking back up at you. The way your mouth opens makes him move it again in the same manner, your eyebrows furrowing.

«Tell me» he echoes. You lay your forehead against the marble.

«You do,» you whine «you make it so fucking wet, Jungkook»

«Fuck, I love when you talk to me»

You think you’re already on the edge because fucking freaking hell, his tongue suddenly pokes your clit and your legs shake and shit- it feels incredible. He moves his head to accompany his motions, mouth open as he flicks the muscles on your clit, the perfect pressure to make you see stars. He moans against you, face buried in your pussy and his nose poking at your entrance, hands splayed on the underside of your asscheeks to help himself keeping you open for him.

«My god- Jungkook»

«You like it?» he groans against your core, gathering your wetness on his tongue. It’s so sweet, so addicting.

«Fuck, yes» you nod.

«I love it,» he moves back on your clit, moans on it with his mouth full of your juices, too in love with your little pearl and how good it can make you feel «it’s perfect»

And he’s back at licking it again with the tip of his tongue, focused on the spot you like the most and then from time to time putting pressure with more of the muscle, setting on fire every nerve of the zone. You hold your breath, your chest is swelling in pleasure and your legs are already trembling.

«Wanna do something» his lips brush on your pussy as he speaks, he doesn’t even dare to part from it.

«What?» you don’t know if you can take whatever it is that it’s running through his mind.

«Not yet,» he kisses your clit, making you whine for him «just relax for now»

«Shit, how am I supposed to- fucking hell, Jungkook» you moan out loud, his tongue sliding through your entrance feels so good. So wet and soft but firm, straight and pointed to push all your buttons right.

«I love you» he can’t help himself. After all, he guesses that this is what you wanted him to do, show you how much he loves you even while he has his tongue deep inside your pussy.

«Love your pussy too, so much baby» he parts a little to take a look at the mess he’s reduced you to, dripping wet all over and glistening. A finger strokes your clit as he gets back to your hole, tongue sliding inside you so easily, he bobs his head up and down to fuck it inside you, his pace getting faster. You just keep your eyes shut, feeling the way his fingers dig into your flesh and his breath hits your skin every time he moves, the pleasure consuming.

«Kook, I think I’m- going to cum» it’s already approaching you, it’s been since the moment his tongue poked at your clit and you don’t know how much you will be able to hold yourself back. Your body feels oversensitive, every touch and lick makes your nerves jump.

«You can,» he breathes against you, your legs tightening «wanna make you cum again afterwards»

Fuck, it’s too much. His words are too much, so fucking hot.

«Oh- god» you whine and Jungkook loves it. He loves it so much, he loves you so much. To have you like this makes him yearn for more and more, he wants it all. He wants you to give yourself to him and let him take care of you in the sweetest and sexiest way possible, fuck you rough and tell you how much he loves you at the same time, make love to you in every possible way.

«You don’t know- shit, I don’t think you know the hold you have on me» he groans, speaks as he thrusts inside you, his words are muffled as the sound of your wetness takes over the bathroom. His finger works on your clit and you know that you’re too close to resist more.

«Tell me» you don’t even know what it is that makes you speak, your mouth moves on its own. Jungkook circles his tongue inside you, he curls it just a bit more and you squeeze your eyes as his moan in your pussy echoes in the bathroom. Fuck, you love it so much, so freaking much.

He slides the muscle out while sucking at the entrance of your hole, drinking your juices and growling against you in the sexiest way possible. Two of his fingers enter you, filling you up and replacing his tongue they fuck you so good that you don’t even know how to breathe anymore.

«You make me desperate,» he hisses, rubbing his digit on your clit and adding a bit more pressure «in every way possible. Want you every fucking day, every second cause I’m addicted. Sexually or not, baby»

«Koo, I…»

«I know,» he kisses your skin «cum for me»

«No- I- I love you» your voice breaks, too weary. Jungkook’s heart throbs in his chest, he wishes he could see your features now but to make you turn now would be too mischievous, so he just focuses on making you cum. His lips kiss your back, he raises himself up while he still moves inside you, leaving a path of wet kisses on every inch of skin he manages to reach.

«I love you too, angel»

He nuzzles his nose on your back, the gesture totally far away from his next words: «Soak my fingers, wanna lick your juices»

Fuck, the room spins, you feel like levitating. Your high hits you so hard that you don’t feel your legs anymore, they tremble and you shiver and Jungkook parts his finger from your clit to wrap his arm around your front, digits digging in your flesh to keep you balanced as he still fucks into you to prolong your orgasm. He kisses your back, breathes you in, loves you more than a second ago if it’s even possible.

The feelings in your chest are long lasting, more than your climax. They fill you up even more when you come down and you notice his uneven breath against you as he holds you steady, safe from anything else that isn’t him. Jungkook kisses your skin endlessly, writes love with his lips until you’re even more drenched than you were under the jet, so much that you feel it deep inside every single bone of your body.

«Come here» he coos, looking up at you even when you still have your head against the marble. You breathe in, turn around to face him. Knees still on the floor, hair wet and lips glistening with your juices, a bit of them on his nose, eyes sweet and starry just like always. You want to laugh because how the hell are you supposed to sit on the floor of the shower when there’s him already, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to breathe and a second later you’re kneeling down and trying your best to sit, however his hand on your hips pushes you slightly to make you turn again. Jungkook opens his legs and bends them at your sides to save just a bit more space, you sit in front of him and he guides your back on his chest. His cock pushes against your skin but the touch of his fingers on your cheek make your attention shift to his face, close and so beautiful it looks unreal.

His lips connect with yours, soft and pillowy, and your mind fills up with a pinkish haze that seems to escape just to surround you with intimacy and coziness, his arm coming around you to feel just a bit more of your skin.

«What was it that you wanted to do?» you mumble against him, keeping your face turned to face him. Jungkook clicks his tongue, smiling with mischief.

«Later,» he pecks you again «if you want to»

«I want to,» you huff faking annoyance «I told you to fuck me but-»

«Aish, so greedy. Can’t I spoil you a little?» he shakes his head, bringing the fingers of the arm that’s wrapped around you in front of his face. They’re still wet with your juices, you expect him to lick them but what he does makes your breath stop and your pussy starts throbbing again. They stroke your lips and his eyes stay focused on his motions as he makes them glisten like a lipgloss, a cheeky smile taking over his features when he notices the way you’re looking at him.

«Wanna taste them from your lips» he murmurs. You let out a staggered breath, totally lost in him and the way he makes your mind go blank. Jungkook kisses you again, pecks your lips more than once, licks the bottom one to get every drop of your sweetness. You hate him for being like this because your pussy is soaked again and you don’t even know why the hell you find it so hot but it’s just- Jungkook. And fuck, he makes you weak.

«I think I want to find out that thing» you breathe when he parts, his giggles resonate in the room as he cages you with his other arm too, stroking your stomach as you let your head fall on his shoulder.

«Please?»

He taps his fingers on your navel, kissing your cheek.

«Aish, so cute,» he giggles happily «you’re exactly my type, you know that?»

«What does that even mean?» you laugh at his childish tone, shaking your head as you watch him munch on his lips.

«You have a type?»

«What? You! You’re-» he points his forefinger on your chest «you are»

«Why?» you coo teasingly, grabbing his finger in your hold and pushing his other arm down at your side. Jungkook watches you get up, turning around to look down at him. The view makes him gulp, his heart flutters at your beauty when you reach your hand out to him to make him stand. He takes it just for the sake of holding it, getting up on his own by pushing on the ball of his feet and his hand on the floor. When he towers over you his eyes are shining again and his bunny teeth on display as he beams brightly.

«Cause I love you,» he murmurs «you-» he snorts through his mouth, pushing the air out and making a nasal noise just like you would do when describing the sound of something exploding «ah, forget it»

You’re coming out of the shower, pushing the door open and he stands there totally entranced. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was probably just enjoying the view. But Jungkook is… totally lost. When you face him you know it well, that look in his eyes.

«I want to know» you push your words, getting closer to where he stands but without going in again.

«I don’t have a type, I guess» he scrunches his nose, it makes you want to laugh, totally meaningless «cause you’re- you are the type. Like- aish, what am I even saying?»

Your laughter fills up his ears and your arms wrap around his torso, you let your head fall on his chest. His fingers come to stroke your hair, eyes half lidded as he giggles in that sweet way that makes your stomach twist and turn.

«I’m the type» you laugh.

«Don’t make fun of me, it’s just- you know what I mean. It’s not about just one thing, it’s like- everything»

«Okay, baby,» you shake your head «now come out»

You grab two towels each, wrapping yourself up and your hair too, Jungkook does the same with his towel but just rubs his hair with the other one.

«Do you remember when we went to Disneyland?» he suddenly stops his motions, leaving the wet cloth on the sink as you wear your slippers. You nod at him through the reflection of the mirror, Jungkook clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

«Wanna go again»

«So suddenly?» you smile.

He nods: «Can we go another time?»

«Next weekend?» you raise your eyebrows at him, thrilled by the thought. Jungkook’s mouth opens wide, stuck in place as he watches you point at his slippers.

«What- next weekend?» he echoes, the shadow of a smile taking over his feature as he does as he’s told. You grab his hand and walk towards the door.

«Hhm, we could? If you want to»

Disneyland sounds beautiful, indeed. You visited three years ago, spent three days laughing like two idiots and going on rollercoasters. You guess it couldn’t hurt at all to visit again. Jungkook feels drunk from the feeling already, having you all to himself for a weekend in a way that he never thought was possible years ago.

«Let’s go next weekend»

He stops in place, eyes wide and lips open.

«Really?»

«Why not?» you shrug.

«Are we getting the tickets now?»

«We’re really going?» he’s beaming so bright that the sun seems like a distant glow in comparison.

«Yes, we’re going. We could leave on Friday night?» you nod.

«Why- you’re sure? I was afraid to ask, I thought you’d say no» he’s totally surprised. Your hand pulls him as you start walking again towards his bedroom, Jungkook watches your eyebrows raise in question when you end your walk in front of his bed.

«Why?»

«I- thought you wouldn’t feel comfortable with it yet- since-»

«I told you,» you smile sweetly at him «I don’t want to restrain myself anymore. There’s no point in it, we know what we have, it’s not too soon cause I already-» you scoff, «I love you. And… I want to go»

His expression makes your heart pound louder. Cheeks full, dark doe, big eyes glittery with thrill and love, pinkish lips open in a smile and bunny teeth showing, totally thrilled.

«Woah, this-» he bounces a little in place, totally excited «we need to get the tickets»

«You wanna buy them now?» you giggle at his cuteness, pecking his cheek. Jungkook shakes his head, wraps his arms around you.

«Do you want to buy them now?» he gives you smooches on your forehead. You let one of your hands wrap around his neck and the other one lock around him, just under his shoulder your fingers tickle his skin as you look up at him.

«Later,» your hum has mischief in it «now I want what I asked for earlier»

«What was it?» god, how he likes to tease you, and the way he licks his lips with a smirk that only makes you churn.

«You know what it was» you huff. Jungkook shakes his head slowly.

«Say it?» he breathes low against you.

«Wanna hear you ask for it»

«Want you to fuck me,» you let all your inhibitions fall to the ground «rough and sweet at the same time»

«Fuck, get on the bed» his cock is already throbbing and twitching against the cloth, too hard and too weary to hold back from before and hearing your pleads just made it hungrier.

«You make me lose it,» he watches you as you let your wet hair fall over your shoulders, the towel gets thrown on the floor and a second later you’re naked and sitting on the edge and his mind doesn’t function when you look at him like this «you want it rough? Want me to fuck you while a sweet talk you? Is that what you want?»

Shit, holy shit, yes. Totally. You can’t even answer him, too entranced by the view of him taking the fabric off and letting it fall on the ground, his eyes burning with fire and ready to devour you.

«Lay down,» he wraps a hand around his shaft, pumping it a few times and making your pussy pulsate around nothing «slide back, get comfortable on the pillows»

You do as he says, body running only with the thrill in your veins. Your eyes lower back on his cock, red and hard, standing eager on his stomach it makes you salivate and wish to wrap your lips around it but Jungkook doesn’t have the same thought in mind. He knees on the bed, looks at your face.

«Open your legs,» he orders, tone firm «open your fucking legs»

You don’t know if you’re ready for what’s to come. Your thighs open, feet digging into the soft mattress, his eyes ravenous. He licks his lips and strokes the head of his cock with his thumb, lets out a low groan; «That’s it»

You don’t even have time to realise what he’s doing, because a second later he’s already laying down and sucking on your clit and your eyes roll back in your head for how good it feels. The sound of him stroking his cock sends you spiralling, his soft mouth sucking and wrapping around your pearl sends every nerve on fire.

«Fucking good pussy,» he breathes letting go of your clit, licking a strap over it «wanna make it squirt»

«Fuck, Jungkook» his words are pure sin, and your body wants it all.

«You like that? Like hearing that?» he kisses the bead so softly that you feel your breath getting stuck.

«I love her so much,» he sucks it again, hard and totally merciless «wanna make her cum so hard, baby. Want you to feel so good» his voice is muffled, he speaks when he lets go of you but doesn’t part enough for your clit not to perceive the brush of his lips as pleasure.

He lets go of his cock to push his finger inside you, filling you up and making you squirm on the bed. Jungkook clicks his tongue and kisses your clit again.

«Can she do that?» he arches his finger inside you, hitting your g-spot perfectly as he flicks his tongue over your clit. The pace is fast, it makes your pussy throb with sensitivity and your juices drip out of your hole, his knuckles are totally wet with them. Jungkook’s cock is throbbing, twitching in desperation, precum leaking out in need.

«Can you do that for me, love?» the last word makes your insides burn, his eyes travelling to your face just in time to see your lips open in a silent moan.

«Don’t- know» you let out, fisting the sheets. Jungkook blows on your clit and he feels your walls contract around his finger, so fucking soft and tight that he wants to bury his cock inside you and never come out.

He pushes a second finger in, fucking inside you and watching your expression totally lost as he sucks your clit again, his lips tight around it. He moans on it, watches your thighs tremble at his sides and lets go again, consuming you and your mind, taking over totally. The way he clicks the underside of his tongue on your pearl makes you moan loud and he licks all the way down from it to your core, opens his lips as much as he can to take every part of you in his mouth, his teeth lightly brush against you and your hips raise involuntarily on the bed, pushing against his face. He moans on you, balls hard and cock oversensitive even with the smallest change of air, slurps at your juices as he sucks them through your entrance and lingers in the sweetness of them, so fucking saccharine and creamy. He wants you to explode, let go.

«Never enough,» he licks back up from your pussy to your clit, flicking his tongue on the spot that makes you lose your mind, fingers pushing buttons inside of you that make your vision blurry «love you so much baby, push your pussy on my face»

«Koo, I…»

«Push it all over me,» he growls on your clit, curls his fingers inside you «want your juices all over me, I love them so much»

You don’t hold yourself back anymore, do as he says. Your hips push up again, your hand goes to his hair and Jungkook sucks your clit again and again and again and you think you’re about to break cause it’s too fucking much.

«Wanna make you cum» he moans as he dives as deep as he can into you, both with his fingers and with his tongue on your clit. The pressure added makes your head dig in the pillow, a breathy moan escaping your lips.

«Again and again, and again. Until you can’t take anymore cause it’s too much. Wanna fuck you and tell you how fucking much I love you and see you cum all over my fucking cock. Shit, you make me desperate»

It’s sudden and it tears you apart and it stings a little but feels so fucking good that your body shakes and you don’t breathe anymore, because he bites your clit just enough and you can’t help it. You tremble and shiver, eyes shut and lips wide open, your hair wetting the pillow and your mind blank as the pleasure becomes too much and you let go. Jungkook licks your juices, slurps on them, dries your pussy of every drop, gulps them down as if it was the sweetest syrup in the world, his eyes on your face admiring how fucking beautiful you are when you cum, all for him and him only. His tongue on you feels so soft, his lips kiss and brush against every inch of your center and Jungkook can’t help but push the tip of his wet muscle inside you, making you shiver.

«Koo» you whine. He smiles against you, pushing it deeper and you writhe on the bed, too sensitive and overwhelmed. His fingers push on your hips, keeping you in place and against his lips.

«Is she sensitive?» he pecks your inner thigh, looking up at you. You nod out of breath, eyes locking with his.

«Wanna make you cum again,» he huffs «can she take it for me?»

«Jungkook, I- sensitive» you whine as he pecks your mound, lowering on your clit with a lick of his tongue on your skin. He blows on it, watching you squirm once more and whine.

«Poor baby» he kisses the pearl decadently.

«Oh, fuck» your hand fists his hair, tugging at the roots, Jungkook kisses it again, he opens his mouth slightly and lets the inner wet part of his lower lip add pressure as he slowly moves up to slide his lips on you.

«You like it when I kiss your clit?» his hand travels up to your abdomen, it passes your hips and your tummy, fingers sprayed as he grasps your left breast and squeezes it slightly.

You nod at him, your pussy is pulsating and it’s so wet and sensitive that you can’t speak properly. He kisses it again, loud and sultry, again and again and again until you lose count and your walls are crumping up again, the pleasure too much to handle.

«Look at me,» he coos tenderly «let me see your pretty face»

You open your eyes, look down at him from the pillow that it’s soaked with the water in your hair. Jungkook’s thumb strokes your nipple, slow and gentle it makes your leg open for him even more and he has to hold back from reaching down to stroke his cock again.

«Can you cum again for me, baby? Wanna give you so much more,» he flicks his tongue over your clit, making you hiss «wanna fuck you so good, want you to feel me for the whole day tomorrow»

His words make your pussy clench around nothing and all you can do is let go and feel the pleasure build up, picturing his cock inside you and thrilled to have him fuck you in the same way he’s been doing with his lips. The thought is too alluring and when he kisses your clit again your mind goes blank and all you can feel it’s your pearl pulsating desperate and his slurpy kisses sending you in a haze. They’re endless, Jungkook kisses your pussy and your legs are trembling again, weary and too sensitive to last any longer. You moan silently, dig your head in the pillows, feel his lips all over you even as you cum again. His hand caresses your tummy, providing comfort as your body goes limp on the bed, lips pecking your inner thighs and your mound, your knees, your tummy, his hand locking around yours. The way you look, shit, it’s ethereal. He doesn’t think he ever witnessed such a beautiful masterpiece, you should be worshipped and represented in every frame, hung in museums, have buildings built with your name. There has to be somewhere, a distant, alternative universe maybe, where you’re a princess of a flourishing land or the goddess of the universe, there has to be.

«I love you so much,» he’s helpless, eyes fixated on you «I wanna keep you in my pocket and cuddle you every night. Wanna shelter you from the world»

«Come here, please» you squeeze his hand, Jungkook lays down on you without having you to ask twice. His cock is rock hard, poking at your tummy and leaking precum from the tip but he’s so fucking in love with you that all he can do is snuggle his face in the crook of your neck and wrap one of his arms around you, the other helping him up not to weight down on you.

«I think you broke me» you groan tired, eyes shut as you feel him giggle and hide more into you.

«You asked for it» he mumbles.

«I didn’t ask for three orgasms» you scoff at him, arms wrapping around him. His chest is firm against you, his back broad and your fingers can’t help but wander and caress it up and down, he shivers on top of you.

«You- you’re so annoying» he groans.

«Aish, here we go again,» you laugh at him, stroking his wet hair with your other hand

«thank you for making me cum three times» you kiss his neck. Jungkook smiles against you, he closes his eyes and takes in your sweet scent.

«That’s better,» he kisses your skin «was it too much? Maybe I shouldn’t ha-»

«I loved it,» you shake your head eagerly, slightly tugging at the strands to make him look at you «every single one of it»

He scrunches his nose, a bright beam taking over his face.

«I’m just teasing you,» you stroke his back «I love when you make me cum with your lips» it comes out low and almost like a whisper and he can see your cheeks reddening, but his heart flutters and all he wants to do is kiss you until the world explodes.

«Yeah?» he coos sweetly, hushed and airy. You nod, eyes lowering on his lips.

«Yes,» you smile «that thing you did- when you bit me…»

He licks his lips and boops his nose to yours.

«Did it feel good?» he asks under his breath. The way he checks in with you every time makes you feel so cherished and it’s like he’s embracing you in a tight warm blanket, totally safe and cared for.

«A lot,» you nod «felt so good, love»

«I wanted to try that» his lips brush against yours when he speaks. You smile at him, pushing your face up just enough to make your lips lock together, his moan is sweet as your tongue enters his mouth. His fingers caress your hip, your shoulder, his hand cups your head as you lay back down and he lowers himself to keep contact, your soft petals and the way you give yourself to him makes his chest swell with happiness and vulnerability every time, how you smile against him, kiss him some more. His cock twitches and you giggle under his lips, Jungkook pecking your lower one with all the love he has inside him.

«Wanna make you cum» you whisper when he parts a little, lashes fluttering at the sound of your voice.

«Wanna cum inside you,» he lets out, hand cupping your cheek «but I can just-»

«I want you inside me,» you cut him off, already knowing where his brain is taking him «don’t care if I’m sensitive. Wanna feel you»

He munches on his lips, cheeks a little swollen as he mulls it over: «Are you sure?»

«I’m sure, Koo. Please, fuck me?» you huff looking up at him, his eyebrows raise at your unceremonious words. You peck his lips and lift your hips up knowing well that he’s still not sure about it. His cock jerks and Jungkook lets out a strangled moan, closing his eyes shut.

«Fuck, can’t say no when you tease me like this» he breathes through his mouth. You grin, his eyes open to look straight down at you.

«Good, cause I’ve waited quite a while» you tease. He scoffs on your face, his hand moves away from your skin just so he can slap your thigh but it only makes you grin more.

«Open your legs» he smiles at your attitude, shaking his head slightly in disdain but his pupils are sparkling and he’s so cute right now that you want to kiss him dumb. However, you do as he says, your movements are quick and your pussy is still throbbing from your last orgasm.

Jungkook parts just a little, he grabs the length of his cock and strokes it once or twice, it cuts your breath off just to look down at his motions; his big and slender hand, beautiful fingers, the girth of his cock and the precum leaking from its head, red and needy.

«I wanna try something sometime» you let out totally entranced, he guides his cock to your pussy, sliding it into your folds. The sensation makes him bite on his lips with his eyes squeezed shut, a needy whine escaping his lips.

«Ngh- what?» he looks down at you.

«Gonna tell you when you’re inside me» you tease him, making him scoff. He lifts his hips slightly, takes his cock away from your lips.

«You’re such a brat» his hand lays on you clit, slapping it just enough to make you moan out loud. Your eyes widen in shock, he grins and kisses your cheek and you don’t know if you should be dripping with arousal or dig a hole into the ground and giggle for his cuteness and the way he makes you heart flutter with just a loving peck.

Jungkook lowers himself back again, he wraps his hand around his shaft to guide it back to where it was and slides it between your folds, it’s so wet that the underside of his cock is soaked with your juices and all he wants to do is feel them on his tongue again. Your clit is oversensitive and the weight of his cock on you only makes it worse, your hand is already gripping the sheets.

He slides his length up and down as he admires the way your eyelashes flutter and the red shade of your lips, your pretty nose, the shape of your eyes. He loves you so much, so freaking much it’s hard to handle it, it’s thought to even just breathe through it.

«Love, look at me?» he coos. Just a word and you’re melting in a puddle, breath staggered. He’s so beautiful, so ethereal. He slides his cock down to your entrance, pokes at it with the head.

«I love you» you whisper. Jungkook smiles, his cock pushes inside you and even though he halts his hips to get you used to the feeling your hands come down on his ass and you push him deeper, making him groan under his breath and close his eyes at the feeling. Tight, close, so fucking wet that his cock is already soaked, so soft. His lips are open, eyebrows furrowed and you don’t know if you want him to go rough on you anymore cause your arms are dying to feel him close and your heart is pounding and throbbing for his love and his affection. He’s so beautiful, so beautiful it tears you apart in the most saccharine way, you love him so much.

«Say it back, please» you breathe.

Jungkook lays his head on your chest, the movement is slow and his breath is staggered, he looks up at you. Some strands of his hair come in the way of his eyes, a drop of water dripping down from one of them and caressing his cheekbone as it travels down. Your eyes are sparkling, lost in a haze, lips open just slightly.

«I love you,» he kisses your clavicle «I’m- don’t even know if that’s enough cause- it doesn’t hold half of the meaning of what I feel for you» his nose brushes against your neck as he hovers over you.

«But I love you, so much. So freaking much, baby»

«Please, move» you breath low.

«Wanna feel you»

«Like this?» he brings his hips back, his cock slides against your walls perfectly, it rubs over every nerve, and then he pushes back in, slow and maddening he stretches you out in the best way possible as your legs move around his hips to cage him into you, his low moan resonating in your ear.

«Shit, yes» you nod. Jungkook kisses your neck, his hand reaches yours and locks around it, thumb caressing the back as he pulls back out just to hit your spot again.

«You’re perfect,» he licks his lips looking down at you «so perfect. Tell me you’re mine»

«I’m yours,» the way he groans at your words makes your pussy clench around him and he throws his head down on your chest at the sensation «only yours, all yours»

«Fuck, say it again» he rests there with his hand pushing yours down on the bed as he moves inside you, his pace fastening.

«Yours, Jungkook. All- every part of me» you moan. He feels so good, so perfect. His cock makes you helpless, he makes you helpless. Just a look, a blink of his eyes and you would do the worst, the absolute worst for him even though you know that he would never ask. You can’t help it, you’re so fucking in love with him that you can’t see straight and the world finally makes sense cause he’s in it and all over you.

«Fuck, yes,» he kisses your chest, hovers over your face again «want a whole life with you»

God, your heart is bursting. He makes you want to stay all day in his arms and only live by his warmth, look at the stars in the sky just to compare them to the ones sparkling in his dark eyes.

«Please, yes» you whine as he hits your g-spot, eyes deep in his «want you every day, Kook. Wanna wake up to your face every fucking day»

«Yeah?» he’s losing his mind, and you can see it clearly. Trying to hold himself back, licking his lips as he stares down at yours and your eyes, fucking himself so deep into you that it’s driving him insane. The sounds that come from your wetness make your cheeks red, all the orgasms you had before and still you’re still hungry for more, for him.

«Yes» you nod eager. He moans out loud, you feel his cock throb inside you and leak precum that mixes with your juices. It’s absolute filth but it feels so intimate that it makes your head spin and your heart clench.

«Can do that,» he kisses your lips «I absolutely can do that. Please don’t change your mind» he sounds like begging and you can’t help but wrap tighter around him.

«Not gonna» you huff. The moment he smiles at you, shit you know you can’t go back anymore. It feels so good, so sweet but so consuming and he’s yours, his smile is. The way his eyes sparkle when he looks at you, the sound of his breath too overwhelmed by you, his hand squeezing yours, all yours.

Jungkook can’t get used to this, he doesn’t think he ever could. Every time he makes love to you, every time you give yourself to him his body lights up, his soul grows a size more just to get as much of you as it can. Seeing you under him in his bed, with your hair wetting the sheets, your body naked for him, your vulnerability in his hands that promise to worship every inch of it and comfort it with everything he can, your cheeks red, lips swollen, eyes starry and almost shut for the pleasure he’s making you feel… he knows he will never get used to this. Not even in another life, at the last one of them all.

«Wish I could take a picture of you right now,» he fans over your lips «so pretty. So beautiful, I love it. Love you, love your pussy, love how you give yourself to me»

«Shit, feels so good» your hands cups his head, bringing him for a sloppy kiss, passionate and lost as his hips keep meeting yours. Jungkook doesn’t know how long he will be able to hold himself back, cause his cock is twitching and his balls are already tight. He was having a hard time even when he was making you cum, every time felt like a torture to his throbbing and heavy dick on his stomach.

«Shit, baby I’m sorry- I don’t know if I can give you what you want- nngh, it feels too good to have you like this» he whines in your ear, kisses your neck endlessly. His hand leaves yours to cup your breast, fingers sprayed and digging into your skin, your pussy clenching. The thought seems far away now, you can’t let go of having him like this, ruining you slowly.

«It’s okay, like this is perfect» you puff out a breath, Jungkook pushes a little harder inside you and suddenly your body is on the edge, eyes squeezed shut.

«You’re going to cum?» he hides himself deeper into you, keeps hitting your spot faster but doesn’t dare to pull out cause seeing you like this sends his mind in a haze. For god’s sake, he’d spend all night long like this. Making you cum undone, over and over again until you soak his sheets with your juices and your lips are so swollen that they hurt. His cock rubs against you perfectly, hips moving faster and faster as his groans fill the room, he just pulls himself back enough to meet your spot again without losing it, giving your sensitive pussy what she’s been begging for by engulfing his length so deliciously.

«Gonna cum» you nod. Jungkook bites his lips, teeth digging into the red flash, pupils fixated on your face as you let out a moan.

«Love watching you cum,» his hand strokes your cheek «let go, love. Do it for me, baby»

Your mind goes blank once more, your lungs are on fire as you try to breathe properly but can’t, pussy pulsating desperately and extremely sensitive. He pecks your lips and shit, the gesture has your heart clenching and it makes you cry out loud because it’s too much freaking pleasure and sweetness and you just- it overwhelms you. Totally and wholly, your legs shake in spasms, you hear Jungkook swear and moan but it’s too far away and your ears are not working well, you can’t feel your body anymore, it’s like you don’t have control over it. Jungkook watches you entranced, he digs his head in the crook of your neck and stops his motions even though he was about to cum just to hold your shaking body and provide comfort with his hold, kisses every inch of skin he finds. Your breath in his ear is heavy, your eyes closed and lips apart, and he feels himself growing desperate, not to cum but to reassure you in the gentlest way possible and provide comfort to every part of you. He kisses your cheek more than a few times loudly and silently, lays his forehead against yours and pecks the tip on your nose, snuggles against it with his, he keeps his arms wrapped around you and his cock still buried in your pulsating core.

«Fuck- Jungkook» you let out a low whine with your eyes closed. Jungkook giggles and lays a smooch on your cheek again.

«You- you don’t know how fucking sexy that was» you open your eyes, your vision is a little blurry.

«I- you made me cum so hard» you hug him back but feel him still rock hard inside you and filling you up totally.

«You… why did you stop? You didn’t cum»

He raises his eyebrows and pecks your temple. His thumb strokes your cheek: «Didn’t wanna overstimulate you more,» he squeezes you tighter «you squirted all over me»

«I- what?» your eyes widen as your lips hang down. Jungkook smiles and nods looking down at you.

«Did you ever do that?» he coos gentle, voice low almost like a whisper.

You shake your head: «Never, are you sure I- really?»

He giggles at your tone, parts by pushing on his arms with his length still inside you. The whole expanse of his abdomen gets shown, muscles rippling and his brownish nipples standing, the v line that guide to his cock… wet.

«Oh, fuck,» you pull him down by pushing him from behind his back «I didn’t think I could do that. Shit, it’s so embarrassing but-»

«It was sexy as hell, baby,» he shakes his head to make your brain stop overthinking it «just to think about it makes- thinking that you felt so good that you couldn’t hold it back- ngh, makes me wanna make you do it again»

«Don’t get used to it,» you huff on his lips, shaking your head but smiling shyly «it never happened»

He pecks your lips.

«I promise I won’t,» he beams «how do you feel?»

The smile that takes over your features makes his heart throb. You couldn’t wrap your head around it if you knew how much he loves you. Asking you how you’re feeling after making you cum so hard when he’s still rock hard and needy inside you, just this makes your chest hurt.

«Good, baby. I feel good,» you bring your hand on his face to caress his cheek and travel your finger on his temple, they push a strand of hair away from his sight «wanna make you cum» you squeeze your walls around him even though you’re still pulsating and too sensitive. Jungkook whines at your ways, let’s his head fall into your neck again.

«Baby- don’t. Shit- feels so good. Don’t wanna- hurt you» he whimpers when you do it again, his eyes are shut and his cock is twitching but it’s caged in your tight hold and it makes him crazy.

«Please, wanna feel you cum,» you kiss the soft skin of his neck, warm and fair, leave your lips on it as you speak «please, love»

«Baby, for real I-» his voice trembles as he tries to restrain himself.

«Please,» you pout even though he can’t see you, you move your hand slowly down his back until you find his asscheek «cum for me? Want you to paint my pussy with your cum»

God, he can’t think straight when you whisper filth like this in his ear and make it sound like the sweet prayer of an angel, honey coated.

You squeeze his asscheek slightly, push your hand down on his flash to make him sink deeper into you, your juices wet and soaking his balls.

«Fuck, tell me if it hurts» he whines knowing well that you won’t give up. His arm pulls you to him more until your hard nipples are tight against his chest and his cock throbbing inside you. He pulls out slowly, driving himself crazy with the sounds of your pussy and how good you engulf him, dives deep inside you at the same pace. His cockhead is oversensitive, when it touches your walls it leaks so much precum that you bite your lips and Jungkook moans loud and breathy, tight to you. He open his lips on your skin, breathes in your sweet scent and kisses your flash endlessly as he pulls back his hips again just to push back inside slowly.

«So wet,» he whimpers «so freaking wet, baby. Drives me insane»

«Wanna see your face when you cum,» you tug at the roots of his hair a bit and Jungkook’s hand reaches yours as he raises his head to look at you, bringing it on the bed and interlocking his fingers «love when you cum for me»

He’s desperate, out of breath, whiny, high pitched as he fucks himself slowly into your heaven, so freaking juicy and wet that he’s afraid he’d slip out if his strokes were any longer or faster. The thought pushes him closer, having your pussy so wet for him and your arms all around him, your face looking at him as he hovers over you, features ethereal and full of love and admiration for his pleasure, whispers in his ear.

«Love you,» when you peck his nose he whines even more «love you so much. Can’t get enough of you»

«My- baby,» his breath is staggered «you’re- my baby»

Your hands make him crazy, they brush against his back and help him fuck himself into you by pushing on his ass, caress his hair, dig into the muscles of his shoulders, write stories on his skin that you didn’t live together yet. Jungkook feels overwhelmed, totally defeated. You bring him close to you, kiss him sloppy and dumb and make him the happiest man alive and suddenly, he’s whimpering and moaning and his movements come to an halt.

«Fucking- fuck, shit» he cries into your mouth with his eyes closed and squeezed, eyebrows furrowed, voice not even able to speak properly. His cum bursts inside you, it paints your walls and fills you up totally, hot and wet it mixes with your juices and your pussy clenches around him at the feeling, a breathy whimper coming out of his lips.

«Can’t- can’t take so much love» he crashes in the space between your head and your shoulder. His body is trembling and his cock throbs inside you. Your breath gets cut as you wrap him up in the best way that you can. You stroke his hair with your fingers, your legs cage him into you again, one of your arms keeps his chest close to yours, so tight that you feel his heart pound and your lips kiss every inch of skin that you manage to reach.

Jungkook lays there with his mind blank and his heart bursting, hiding himself in his safe place in your neck and trying to steady his breath.

«Did- did it hurt?» he gulps as he speaks, voice weary and frail. You kiss his earlobe, play with the strands of his hair.

«It didn’t,» you hum «don’t worry about it»

«I’m sorry baby, I- it was too much, couldn’t do what you wanted»

«Changed my mind when we started,» you chuckle as he turns his head, your side profile makes him want to caress your nose with his finger «we can do that another time»

He hums a little, a sweet kiss on your neck.

«I promise it’s gonna be good,» he nods «you make love to me so sweet. Tears me apart» his voice is a bit high pitched, but it comes out as a whisper, so vulnerable.

You flash a smile, moving slightly under him. Jungkook takes a deep breath and pushes on his arms to kiss your lips and then look down between you. His cock is still inside you and he snuggles himself into your skin as he grabs the base of it, the sensitivity of his length makes him moan as he slides it out of you, drenched in both of your cum and his and still half hard. You pat the bed beside you, turn on your side as he lays down.

«Closer,» you pout «closer baby»

He fights with the sheets making you giggle as he gets closer, until he lays his head down on the pillow just an inch away from you, body so close you feel the heat radiating from his skin as his arm comes around you and pushes you to him, chest tight. He brushes your back with his fingertips and you shiver when they stroke up your spine, slow and ticklish until they reach the back of your neck and he cups your cheek.

«Do you want to go for real?» he asks low. You nod your head, a little smile on your lips.

«Wanna go,» you push a strand of humid hair out of his face «for real»

His smile makes your heart clench, that little nose scrunch that you love so much and his cheeks full, eyes full of stars.

«Aish, I’m so happy,» he stretches his leg over yours «we should get the tickets after we shower»

«Let’s do that,» you squeeze his cheek «let’s go shower?»

«Just a little,» he whines and pushes himself tighter against your body «let’s wait a little? Love cuddling after we make love»

Shit, you can’t help it. You love him so much, he squeezes your heart in his hand every time he looks at you, when he talks with his tone sugar coated, frail and totally helpless and shows himself begging for your love with his eyes, so vulnerable that you just fill full. You want to make him happy. Want to see him smile, giggle and titter, laugh out loud until he has tears in his eyes, colour his world of the same pink shade he paints yours in. You want to make him breathe and feel the same feeling you have in your chest, cause it’s too much to bare on your own and it makes you lose your mind to see him drunk in it. You want to have in wholly, every day and fill your time with memories and experiences, learn as much as you can, the little secrets that he told you and the ones you don’t know yet, find out about his pet peeves when he’ll be older and have arguments just to make up and hug each other so tight that something inside you either breaks and he’ll have to kiss its wound or fixes. Hold him so tight that he can’t breathe, shower him with love and hug him tight when you both cry cause you love each other too much, kiss his insecurities away and give him a shielded place to hide himself in and to heal, cause you will always have your arms empty for him, whenever he needs a safe space you will be here, as you’ve always done with each other. You want him to remember this, and to sleep well, cause you will be here taking care of him just the same as he does with you.

«Love» he coos. You hum in question, a big beam on your face.

«You didn’t tell me»

«What?»

«What you wanted to try» he whispers, eyes big and full of curiosity. You scoff at him and shake your head.

«Next time, I’ll tell you»

«I want to know,» he pouts «please, tell me?»

You sigh: «you’re still half hard, Koo»

«Don’t care, not in the mood for something freaky now, anyway» he mulls. You roll your eyes at him.

«Who told you it’s something freaky?» you slap his shoulder and Jungkook giggles.

«Then tell me,» he brushes his lips against yours «what is it?»

You cheeks colour of a red shade, his eyes look at them as he munches on his lips, his thumb caresses your cheek.

«Wanna watch while you touch yourself,» you whisper shyly «you don’t have to if-»

«Oh, shit-» he gulps down on his spit «could you do the same while I do that?»

Your eyes widen, you want to laugh for whatever is going on because you came four times and somehow your pussy is getting wet again, it’s ridiculous.

«I- if you want me to» you smile. Jungkook nods and nuzzles his face to you.

«Hell yes if I want that» he chirps. You chuckle at his excitement, hide your face into the pillow. His lips are so stretched that his cheeks hurt.

«Just, let’s take one step at a time,» he strokes your back «I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything. I want to do things right, in the right way for you» he goes to stroke your hair and you raise your face from the pillow.

«I don’t, I told you»

«I know,» he nods and kisses your lips softly, feather like «whenever you want to do anything, when it’s the right time for you, you know I’m always here»

«I know,» your heart clenches «I love you»

He pushes his face closer to yours until he’s breathing over your lips and his brush on you as he speaks: «I love you too,» he smiles «loved you for so much, will love you always»

You you can read the first part here: Closer: Too Close

Read more about Closer here: Closer

Taglist: @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r, @kaitlynlovesbm, @bytheinaya, @jub-jub, @taolucha, @mianyas1998, @seoulrenebae-blog, @ppeachyttae, @gluk97, @jk97bam, @diorh0seokie, @gwsjungkookie, @moonlikemeh, @skzthinker, @jungkookieeee97, @eysloveskoosomuch, @sleepy-sae, @jjkw-7, @singularityjes, @spookybirstarfish, @vvicadiction, @kimchijeonjk, @suciedad-divina, @katarinamae

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burnthoneydrops · 1 year ago

Text

Meet the Parents (j.b. x reader)

pairing: jonathan byers x reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: none? use of Y/N but otherwise gender neutral pronouns

a/n: my first jonathan post! i love this boy so much and his appreciation on tumblr is lacking so i decided to add to it! i hope you enjoy!

“Mom! We’re home!” Jonathan calls as he closes the front door behind the two of you.

You hear shuffling in the living room and the creak of the couch springs moving beneath someone getting up. “They know I’m coming right?” You double check, grabbing Jonathan’s hand and squeezing for dear life.

“Yeah, I mentioned it,” he reassures, and yet you can’t help but not believe him. The Byers seemed so nice from what Jonathan had told when you first started going out, and you were just scared you’d be an imposition.

“Oh my God, hello!” Joyce, you assume based on the description Jonathan gave you, turns the corner from the living room, and you catch the sound of the television still playing. “It’s so good to finally meet you!” She smiles, hesitantly wrapping her arms around you. Once you return the hug, she fully hugs you before Jonathan fakes a cough. “And hello to you too,” Joyce teases.

“Mom, this is Y/N,” Jonathan gestures between the two of you with a smile, happy to see two of the most important people in his life getting along.

“You’re even prettier than Jonathan said,” Joyce wipes her hands on her jeans. Then, without giving you a second to react, “Will, honey, can you turn the TV off and come out here?”

You exchange a look with Jonathan, who looks significantly more embarrassed than he did when you walked in. You smile at him, trying not to laugh before Will walks around the corner, joining the little party in the hallway. “Hi Will,” you initiate, holding out your hand, not wanting to assume anything.

“Hi,” he replies, awkwardly shaking your hand before dropping both of his back to his sides. “So you’re the person Jonathan yaps on and on about,” he glances over at his brother as Jonathan makes a sound to get him to stop, “I swear it’s a daily occurrence”.

“Oh, well I hope it’s all good things,” you chuckle before giving Jonathan another look, both of your cheeks turning red.

“Well, I was waiting for you to finish up dinner so I think I’ll go get that sorted,” Joyce breaks the silence as she turns toward the kitchen.

“Oh, can I help Mrs. Byers?” You ask, also looking for any excuse to move to a different space or conversation.

“Oh no, I’m alright hon. Thanks though,” she smiles as she walks fully into the kitchen, leaving you, Jonathan and Will alone.

“What were you watching Will?” Jonathan asks.

“Scooby Doo,” Will replies.

“Ah man! That’s totally cool! Can I watch it with you?” You ask, trying to show an interest in his likes and dislikes.

Will’s eyes light up, “Really? You wanna watch it with me?”

“Duh! That sounds so cool!” You nod, smiling wider.

“Sick!” He grabs your hand and quickly shuffles back to the couch, pulling you behind him as you let out a light laugh, hearing Jonathan shuffle behind you.

“Hey, last time I checked they were my date!” Jonathan comments as he follows up the end of the line, taking a place next to you as Will had pulled you to sit next to him.

After finishing the episode Will was watching, Joyce calls that dinner is ready and the three of you make your way over to the kitchen, the family taking their unassigned assigned seats at the table before you sit at the other open seat. Joyce asks you questions about your life, your classes, and what you like to do for fun while Will asks you questions to see if you have any other things in common that he can nerd out about with you. The dinner went better than you expected, and your nerves melted the longer you sat at their table. When dinner ends, Jonathan offers to take you on a tour of the house, and you smile at all the family pictures on the walls, taking special note of all the baby pictures of him. He tries to avoid those like the plague, tugging your wrist to get you to walk faster, but you stamp your feet in the ground, wanting to take a good mental image of them.

The two of you stop in his room and sit slightly uncomfortably on his bed. His room feels so much like him it's almost insane, but you definitely would have guessed it was his if you had to. It’s comforting to see the parts of your favorite person reflected so clearly in their chosen environment, and you can’t help but smile and take in every little detail as you look around.

“Are you making fun of my stuff?” Jonathan asks, slightly joking.

“No, it’s just so…you” you shrug.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, it just looks like you decorated it. I like it,” you assure him.

He grabs your hand and pulls you slightly closer to him before wrapping an arm around your shoulder, hesitating for a moment before you lean your head in the space he created, giving him the confirmation to fully rest his arm on you. “Do you think your family liked me?” You ask carefully.

“Yeah!” He laughs, “my mom was obsessed with the idea of meeting you and…” he trails off, rethinking saying what he was about to say.

“What?” You glance up at him.

“Will wasn’t entirely wrong about me talking about you all the time”.

“Aw. You’re really something Jonathan Byers, you know that?”

“Hopefully a good something?” He questions.

“A very good something,” you nod, leaning back into his shoulder.

You two sit in silence for a moment before Jonathan looks back down at you. “Do you actually like Scooby Doo?”

“Yeah! I mean I haven’t watched it in a while but yeah, it’s a good show,” you cover. You had never watched Scooby Doo in your life.

“You lied to impress my little brother”.

“I did no such thing”.

“You know he’s only 13 right?” He laughs.

“13 year olds are scary dude,” you counter.

“Whatever you say”.

“Not your family though. They were really nice,” you smile, soaking in the moment.

“I’m really happy you agreed to meet them. I knew you’d get along. I’m really happy I met you, Y/N”. Jonathan smiles as he looks at you before staring back at the wall.

“I’m really happy I met you too Jonathan”. You two continue to sit in his room, enjoying each other’s company before he offers to drive you home. Joyce sends you with a container of leftovers, joking that it’s just another excuse to see you again. You thank her before Will gives you a hug goodbye, which you quickly return and Jonathan nods that you two should go. You express your thanks again as you get in the car before the two of you drive off, and you are thankfully significantly less nervous than you were when you were last in his car.

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #jonathan byers fanfiction #robin buckley #steve harrington #stranger things season 4 #nancy wheeler #eddie munson

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here2bbtstrash · 3 years ago

Text

two in one (explicit)

genre: 100% smut

pairing: hoseok x reader x jimin

summary: you finally have a much-needed smoke session with your best friends, just like old times. you’re also pretty sure they’re gay… right?

word count: just under 12k, help

contains: explicit sexual content!!! M/M/F threesome, double vaginal penetration, come eating, mutual masturbation, recreational drug use (just weed tho), friends to lovers, multiple orgasms, a lot of cunnilingus, a smidge of dirty talk, crying after sex (in a good way), and some incredibly stupid/v mildly problematic discussions of sexuality

A/N: i am literally so embarrassed that this is my first crosspost to tumblr but hi, i made you this p0rn, i hope you like it. this is also on AO3 if that's how you prefer to get down

~*~

The three of you have the perfect smoke session down to a science. Your roles are considered sacred at this point, unchanged since you were fifteen years old and smoking mids out of horribly constructed apple pipes in Hoseok’s parents’ basement.

Hoseok provides the pot.

It’s easy for him, social butterfly that he is, to make the connections and bring up the question just delicately enough to get what he wants without seeming like a narc. He’s always been able to thread the needle of finding a reliable plug with good quality stuff who doesn’t awkwardly overstay their welcome by asking to smoke it with you (or worse, try to push pills or other shit on you).

And now that he’s rich, he gets the best stuff there is, probably flown out from California with stupid names like Maui Wowie and Super Lemon Haze. He has to pack the bowl, too– you’re lazy so you prefer pre-rolls, but Hobi refuses to do anything rolled if Jimin is smoking it. (“Have you seen his lips? He’d soak right through the thing.”)

Jimin brings the snacks.

These have not changed from when you were teenagers, but you can actually afford them now, instead of forcing Hobi to distract a store clerk while you and Jimin shoved as much as you could into his backpack.

Honey butter chips, shrimp crackers, pepero, the little chocolate puffs that he can toss in the air and catch in his mouth every time– Jimin’s snack game is elite, and he’ll always lovingly set out a full glass of water for each of you before the session starts. He’s even been known to disappear into the kitchen, only to return with three bowls of fire noodles that he managed to whip up while blazed as fuck.

And you are in charge of the music.

You’ve had other friends argue that this isn’t enough to be considered a real session contribution, but you know Hobi and Jimin understand the importance of ambiance. You’ve learned the hard way how awful it is to be high as shit in absolute silence– or worse, high as shit with Adult Swim on in the background. Your best friends, thankfully, have taste.

Over the years you’ve built up a collection of playlists perfectly crafted to follow the arc of a session: Fun pop to ease you into the giggly stages, then slowly moving on to stuff with more psychedelic layers as the body high sets in, and of course a nice dose of chillwave to round things out. (Is there anything better than falling asleep stoned to Tycho? The answer is no.)

“Hoseok, I can’t figure out your fancy Bluetooth shit,” you whine as your phone once again refuses to connect to his built-in home stereo.

You’re in the living room of their bougie apartment, sinking into the pillows of a couch that feels more like a cloud. Quite a change from the basement years, when you’d all try to squeeze on an eyesore of a loveseat, the upholstery torn away on the arms to reveal the foam stuffing underneath. It was really only built to fit two people, so inevitably, someone would end up on the floor. Usually Jimin.

Hoseok is kneeling on the carpet, working diligently atop the glass coffee table. You glance over at him for help, but he’s in full Hobi-focus mode, tongue between his teeth as he gingerly removes the lid from the grinder, bringing it close to his face to check the consistency. Giving an approving nod, he pinches the grind between his delicate fingers and begins packing it into the bowl of his rainbow glass pipe. His favorite, naturally.

Jimin flops down on the couch next to you, taking your phone out of your hands without asking. He repeats the exact same steps you’ve done three times, but for some reason when he does it, the device connects without issue.

You roll your eyes and snatch your phone back, scrolling until you find your latest session playlist. You tap play and the opening guitar notes of Lil Nas X’s MONTERO surround you from all sides.

The reaction is immediate from both of them. Hoseok throws one hand in the air, doing the best body rolls he can manage on his knees while still packing a bowl with the other hand. His tongue lolls out of his mouth as the beat kicks in, and he throws in his own ad-libs (“yeah”, “uh-huh”) between the lines of the first verse.

Jimin, being Jimin, reaches his hand between his shoulder blades and pulls his shirt off over his head.

It’s been a fact for as long as you’ve known him– Jimin is terrible at keeping his clothes on. You’ve seen him shirtless, even down to his boxers, easily hundreds of times. There is no human more immune to the charms of a six-pack than you are, you’d wager.

The defined indentations just below his hips, though… His sweatpants ride low enough as he wiggles to the music that you can see them now, and your gaze lingers for a moment. Those are pretty good. It’s a shame, really.

You grab his shirt off the floor and toss it back at him. “Keep your clothes on, Jimin!” He sticks his tongue out at you and you poke a finger into his side until he squirms away and does as he’s told.

Hoseok grabs the seat next to you on the couch. “Alright Jimin, you do the honors,” he announces, passing the bowl across you and retrieving a lighter from the coffee table.

As Jimin gets the bowl started, you feel Hoseok’s hand gently creep up your back. He’s always so touchy. It’s funny how all their mannerisms come back to you in pieces, like you’d forgotten your best friends. It’s been too long, you guess, nearly a year since the last time you’ve been able to be together like this.

Hoseok’s fingers absentmindedly start to massage a knot in your shoulders and you shiver at the sensation, letting your eyes flutter closed for a second. God, that feels good. You have so few friends who are comfortable being physical the way he is, and you haven’t had a proper fuck in way too long.

Not that that’s Hobi’s problem to solve, of course. But at this point, you’ll take what you can get, even if it’s just a one-handed shoulder massage.

Jimin exhales the first hit in an impressively large cloud of smoke. His hand still working your shoulders, Hoseok leans over you with his lips pursed, inhaling at the air as if to pull the smoke in.

You laugh as you take the bowl and lighter from Jimin, because Hoseok looks ridiculous. You let the flame lick at the bud and when you inhale, you hear Jimin’s voice.

“Please, Hobi. If you want to shotgun, you have to do it right.” He places his fingers under your chin to tilt your head up, his mouth hovering close to yours, and parts his lips.

You roll your eyes because Jimin is such a fucking flirt. He always has been. Feeling put upon, you exhale a stream of smoke and he sucks it in. It’s not particularly sexy, but having someone’s face so close to yours, with Hoseok’s fingers still pressing into your skin, is enough to make your pulse quicken.

Good god girl, get a grip, you think to yourself. These men are not interested.

You hand the bowl off to Hoseok and he removes his hand from your shoulders to take a hit. Apparently not satisfied with only one shotgun, Jimin leans across you to encourage Hoseok to do the same. He’s always been the king of playing chicken.

Hobi’s eyes crinkle as he fights to keep the smile off his face. Jimin’s hand lands on your thigh for balance as he moves over you.

You’re not sure if it just takes you by surprise or if you’re really that touch-starved, but you flinch at the contact, which is enough to make Hoseok laugh and choke on the hit, coughing smoke out at the both of you.

“Sorry,” you laugh, “I’m jumpy today.” You sink back into the cushions.

The rush of the first hit after far too long is enough that your head is buzzing a little and you have no filter, instead there’s simply a direct line from your brain to your mouth. “I need to get laid. I’ve been in a dry spell for like…” You pause to count. “Jesus, almost six months. It’s starting to fuck with me.”

You look up and Jimin and Hoseok are having some silent conversation between the two of them in facial expressions you can’t make sense of. Jimin has paused with the bowl halfway to his lips and is failing to suppress a laugh, creases appearing under his eyes.

Jimin has forever been able to make Hoseok cackle without saying anything. “It’s all in the eyes!” Hobi would always say after doubling over for a solid minute. “Just his eyes make me laugh!” Now is no exception, and Hobi does his classic move where he laughs so hard he stands up, which never fails to make you laugh.

You clap a hand to your mouth and that makes both of them laugh more, until Hoseok is sprawled on the floor and you’re slumped sideways on the cushion where he was sitting.

“Shut the fuck up!” You finally manage to gasp, launching a couch pillow at Hoseok. He effortlessly catches it between his feet. “I know you guys never have this problem, alright? Must be nice.”

Jimin, about to finally take his hit, pauses again. You sit up and smack him on the arm, and he flicks the lighter and runs it around the edge of the bowl, inhaling deeply. Trying his best to hold it in, he manages to choke out, “What does that mean?” before coughing up the lungfuls of smoke. When he finally recovers, he hands you the bowl. “We don’t fuck fans.”

You give him a look. “Well yeah, obviously.” You take a hit, the bud sizzling in the flame of the lighter.

Hoseok sits up. “I’m confused.”

You pass the bowl and lighter to him with one hand, using the other to gesture back and forth between them, like it’s obvious, then finally exhale smoke through your nose. “You’re– you know! You two!”

Hoseok grins ear-to-ear, like he’s finally understanding. “Me and Jimin-ah?! We are not together.”

You sigh, frustrated. “Okay, fine, whatever label you want to put on it. Roommates, fucking, whatever.”

Jimin squints hard, leaning his whole body away from you so he can survey you like you’ve gone insane. “What?!”

Your mouth goes dry (well, even dryer than the cotton mouth that was already starting to happen). You reach for your glass of water on the coffee table, the physical need completely overtaking your desire to continue the conversation, and chug in silence for a few seconds.

Hoseok exhales a pretty stream of smoke, then frowns in confusion. “Who told you we were fucking?”

You shrug, glass still to your lips, then finally swallow and return it to the coaster. “Nobody.” Your cheeks flush with heat as the delayed embarrassment finally starts to kick in. “Forget I said anything.”

Jimin takes the bowl and lighter from Hobi but is clearly not satisfied with your answers, because he sets both down on the coffee table and fully turns to face you, crossing his legs under him on the couch cushion. “What made you think we were?”

You make a face, wondering how that’s even a question. “I don’t know, have you seen the two of you interact?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Jimin flirts with anything that moves.” Jimin shrugs and nods as if to co-sign this assessment.

“You’ve been roommates for like a decade! You always talk about living together forever!”

They blink at you, apparently waiting for you to produce better evidence for your claims.

You close your eyes and let out a deep exhale. “Whatever, look, I made an assumption and I shouldn’t have. And I was wrong. My bad. Let’s move on.”

You crack one eye open to see them both shrug it off.

Jimin reaches for the lighter and bowl once more as a weird feeling bubbles up in your chest. You grab your phone to find a song to reset the energy of the space. You didn’t mean to kill the vibe, you think to yourself, and then Kendrick Lamar seems like the obvious choice.

They both nod in approval, Jimin’s full lips wrapped around the end of the bowl, and Hobi immediately starts to sing along. The chorus is perfect for his deep vocal register, and he effortlessly slips into the fast-paced verse as Jimin inhales.

You should leave it alone. You know you should. But something you assumed to be objective truth has just been disproven, and now you have to question everything. Is the sky even still blue?

“You guys are gay though, right?”

The laughter starts up again, and you sink so low on the couch you almost slide off. “What the fuck?!”

“Oh my god, look at her,” Hoseok cackles, crawling over to slide onto the cushion next to you. You scoot back up and roll towards him, burying your face in his shoulder and tucking your knees alongside him. “Did your entire world just turn upside down?”

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You’re terrified to say anything else, so you can only nod your head against his shoulder.

Taking pity on you, Hoseok wraps his arms around you, his fingers running gently through your hair. His nails barely graze your scalp and you shiver in pleasure, melting that much further into him. “I love you, but you’re an idiot.” He scoffs. “No, we’re not gay.”

While you were having an existential crisis, Jimin must have snuck in a second hit, and he chokes on it now, coughing out a few puffs of smoke. He gives a little shrug. “I mean, I’m not not gay.”

“But you, Hoseok?!” You pull away slightly to look at him and he gives you a look right back.

“What’s that supposed to mean, bitch?”

You scramble to find some evidence for this belief you’ve held for a decade and are unable to come up with much. “Y-you’re such a good dancer, and you love fashion… You saw Lady Gaga in Vegas!”

He rolls his eyes and shoves you. “Alright, get off me.”

“Wait, no!” You slump backwards, bumping against Jimin’s leg, and let out a frustrated groan. “I’m sorry, Hobi, I didn’t mean it like that.” He pouts at you, apparently still a little hurt.

You continue, trying to dig yourself out. “I seriously don’t care, and you know I love you guys no matter what. But you have to understand that I’ve held these… clearly delusional beliefs for a long time.” You pause and a smile cracks over your face. “And I’m also high as shit, so like. Just give me a second to process this.”

“Jimin-ah!” Hoseok’s concentration has suddenly shifted away from you, and you turn to see Jimin taking his third hit in a row. He looks sheepish as he blows out the smoke, then flashes a small smile.

“What? You guys seemed busy.” He finally hands you the bowl and the lighter; you’re grateful for the distraction.

You’re about to touch the flame to the green when he adds, “I think Hobi’s just mad because he always wanted to fuck you, and now it turns out you thought he was gay the whole time.”

You nearly drop the bowl. “What?!” You scream, but you’re drowned out by the half-yell, half-laugh Hoseok makes as he leaps over you and tackles Jimin.

They roll onto the floor, leaving you sitting stupidly on the couch alone, way too fucking high for this.

Hobi wraps himself around Jimin, pinning his arms and legs in place in what almost looks like a full-body hug. He’s cackling like a madman, his nose pressed into the crook of Jimin’s neck. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you smug son of a bitch.” He whispers, and Jimin giggles and squirms, trying to free himself.

You look down at the bowl in your hand, beyond confused, then shrug and take your hit anyway.

Jimin manages to wrench one arm free, tickling Hobi until he finally relents and they break apart from each other, both breathing heavy. Jimin lays flat on his back, laughing contentedly to himself as he stares up at the ceiling. Hoseok is on his hands and knees, and he leans forward to press his forehead into the carpet, gasping for air.

Nobody says anything for a moment, and you set the bowl and lighter on the table. “Can we just start over? Forget everything that everyone has said tonight?”

Hoseok lifts his head to make eye contact with you, still panting. “I don’t know why Jimin said it like that. Like he didn’t wanna fuck you too.”

You grab a pillow off the couch and shove it over your face. “Someone please tell me what the fuck is going on,” you wail, slightly muffled by the fabric.

A pair of hands close around yours, and the pillow shifts out of your vision, replaced by Jimin’s face. He’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, leaning in. His eyes linger on your mouth.

“Hoseok’s not wrong.” Jimin licks his lips.

“Oh my god Park Jimin, do not fucking flirt with me right now!” You yank the pillow back from him and move to smack him with it, but your reflexes are slowed enough that he’s able to shield his face with his arms in time, dissolving into a fresh round of giggles. You continue to beat him senseless with your fluffy weapon.

“Okay, okay, ow! I’ll tell you the truth if you stop hurting me!”

You’re slightly more intrigued than you are pissed off, so you relent, hugging your arms around the pillow in your lap. “Go ahead.”

Jimin seems unprepared to say more, and his eyes dart to Hoseok, looking for an out.

Hoseok groans and pulls himself back onto the couch, and Jimin mirrors him on the other side of you. “The truth is…” Hobi starts, clearly unsure of how to phrase it. “We were fifteen. And you were a cool girl who smoked weed with us. So obviously, we wanted to fuck you.”

Your head spins and you cling to your pillow for dear life. “B-but… Neither of you ever… We never…”

“Never what? Tried anything? Come on. We didn’t have any game, we were total losers back then. And you didn’t seem like you were interested, so we didn’t want to ruin things.”

“I don’t know why you weren’t.” Jimin leans one elbow on the back of the couch, resting his head in his hand and purposefully flexing his bicep.

Hoseok rolls his eyes, but he’s still grinning, amused by Jimin’s antics as always. “It’s also kind of awkward when you’re both into the same girl.” Hobi shoots a very specific look at Jimin, and your eyes dart between them, trying to decode the hidden message.

Jimin bites down on his bottom lip, cheeks puffing out in laughter, understanding something that is lost on you.

“Tell me!” You smack a hand on each of their thighs. “No more secrets!”

“Ohhh, Jimin-ah, do you want to tell her?” Hoseok tilts his head, his face flushing. “It’s embarrassing!”

“Well, now you have to tell me!” You persist.

Jimin’s cheeks are red now too, and he shifts uncomfortably, playing with the hem of his shirt. It must be bad if the guy who is literally known for being shameless can’t even say it. A thousand possibilities race through your mind.

“Sometimes after you left, I’d, uh, go to the bathroom while Hoseok stayed in the basement and we’d… You know. Take care of things. Separately.”

Surely the drugs were laced and this entire conversation is some wild hallucination, you think to yourself. This cannot be real life.

“And sometimes,” Hoseok says, his voice breaking as a nervous laugh rips through him. Jimin turns away and buries his face in the arm of the couch, already full-body cringing in preparation for whatever Hobi is about to say. “We’d take care of things… not separately.”

At this, you’re on your feet, your security pillow falling to the floor. “So you are gay!”

“No!” Hobi stands up beside you, hands reaching to grip your shoulders as he convulses with laughter.

“I thought I made my status clear earlier,” Jimin mumbles, face pressed into the couch.

“The dicks never touched,” Hoseok clarifies with a shake of your shoulders, still laughing.

“Like that makes any difference,” you counter.

“We never touched each other’s dicks. It was a… mutual masturbation of sorts.”

You pause to consider this. “I– Wow. I think I need a minute.” You allow Hoseok to gently push you back down to the couch. He sits next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulders again, guiding you to lay on your side with your head resting in his lap. You don’t resist.

“I really thought we’d take that one to the grave,” Jimin says with a laugh, reaching for his glass of water.

“I can’t believe you never told me,” you mumble. Your mind drifts back to high school. It feels like another lifetime. How did nothing ever happen? Why weren’t you interested in them?

You think back on fifteen-year-old you and give her a pity laugh. For starters, she was a fucking trainwreck. You were so self-conscious and anxious back then, it probably never even occurred to you that anyone was capable of having any desire towards you.

And then at some point, as you got older, you’d convinced yourself they were boyfriends, or at the very least fucking. Once it seemed like the option was off the table, you’d never considered it again.

But now… Your head spins.

Your best friends are obviously extremely attractive; you have eyes. And they apparently want to fuck you– or at least, they did. But what about now? The unspoken question lingers in your mind.

You’re desperately touch-starved and in need of a good fuck, this much you know. But these are your best friends. Could you do it? Should you? Would they even want to? Would it mess everything up? And how would it work, logistically? Would you have to pick one? Would they take turns? Or would they… share?

Your body shudders with a mixture of arousal and confusion, and you feel Hoseok rub his hand along your upper arm, then your back.

“Hey, it’s okay. Come back to earth. Don’t let it ruin your high.”

You’re not sure you even feel high anymore, just overwhelmed and on edge. You sit up slowly, still shivering.

Something bumps against your arm and you realize it’s Jimin’s hand. He laces his fingers through yours and gives your hand a squeeze. You glance at him.

“Are you okay?”

You swallow hard and let your eyes flutter closed for a moment. These little touches alone, Jimin’s hand in yours, Hoseok rubbing small circles into your back, feel incredible. You’re overcome with the realization of how much you love them both, how grateful you are that this bond you share has stayed the same for more than a decade despite so much else changing.

“Yeah,” you say with a small smile, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m good.” You open your eyes.

The fingers of his right hand still working along the column of your spine, Hoseok leans forward to grab the discarded bowl off the table. Communicating in their own silent language, Jimin grabs the lighter with the hand that isn’t holding yours and circles the flame around the bowl when Hobi puts it to his lips.

He takes a long, steady pull, then sets the bowl down again and turns to you. His left hand ghosts over your thigh, just above your knee, while his right slowly moves up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

You instinctively turn to face him and realize your pulse is racing. “Can I?” Hoseok asks, his voice stilted as he holds the smoke in, and your heart skips a beat.

You nod, and his right hand cups your jaw, pulling you in. You open your mouth slightly and he does the same, fully closing the distance to press his lips to yours.

He exhales and you inhale, and it’s definitely a very different sensation compared to the chaste inches-apart shotguns you’ve done with them before. You feel him smile against your mouth and you break away to exhale the smoke with a laugh.

“Is this okay?” Hoseok asks again, his eyes searching yours.

You shift, then realize that your hand is still intertwined with Jimin’s, and you look back over at him. He appears to be enjoying the show, which makes your face heat up. No one’s ever watched you like this before; being something worth watching feels good.

You unlace your fingers from Jimin’s and pat his leg. “Be right back, okay?”

You answer Hobi’s question by taking his face in your hands and pulling him in, this time for a kiss that’s just a kiss. Hoseok presses his hands into the small of your back as you move your lips slowly against his, your mind spinning.

You’re kissing your best friend, you can’t help but think to yourself. Your best friend who is not gay. The whole thing is truly unbelievable.

As if sensing how in your head you are, Hoseok takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth, and your breath hitches as you’re suddenly unable to focus on anything else.

He brings his lips to your jaw, then below your ear, then down along the slope of your neck. You tremble at the heat of his mouth on a particularly sensitive spot and he stays there, lightly worrying the skin with his teeth until you whine, then running his tongue across the mark.

“Fuck, Hobi,” you gasp into his ear as he blows a cool stream of air over the same spot. You lean in for more of him, and then you hear the telltale click of the lighter and an inhale from behind you.

God, there’s two of them. You don’t think you’re going to survive this.

You look up at Hoseok as if to ask permission without saying anything. You bite back a smile as you try to think of how on earth you’d phrase it as an actual question: Hey, I know we were just making out, but is it cool if I turn around and make out with your best friend now, who also happens to be my best friend?

You briefly wonder if Hobi can read minds when he grins and says, “Go ahead.”

You shift to face the other way with a nervous giggle and Jimin is there, smiling with his eyes as he holds the hit in his mouth. He repeats the same motion from minutes earlier– you can’t believe it was only minutes earlier– of grazing his fingertips along your jaw, but this time when he tilts your head up, he brings his mouth all the way to yours.

Jimin’s lips are so soft and warm that it takes you a few seconds to remember what you’re supposed to be doing, and then you inhale the smoke that he breathes into your mouth. You wind your fingers in his hair and he moans against you.

The way he kisses is so different from Hoseok, but so equally perfect. Your pulse quickens as you wonder what else they might do differently.

Jimin sucks gently on your bottom lip for a moment, then pulls away. “Do you want to keep going?” He asks, and you can’t imagine how anyone would ever say no. You nod.

A smile lights up his face, and his gaze moves from you to over your shoulder at Hoseok, then back.

“Well, somebody’s gotta go first.” Jimin says, and he proceeds to do what Jimin does best– strip immediately down to his boxers. The speed at which he goes from fully-clothed to nearly naked makes all three of you laugh, and that’s enough to break some of the tension that’s been building in the room.

Jimin pulls you back in for another kiss and you feel hands snake around your hips, just barely pushing up the fabric of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” Hoseok murmurs in your ear, his breath on your neck.

“Yes,” you say between kisses, and the attention from both of them at once makes it come out more like a moan. Your face flushes at how needy you sound. You break away from Jimin as Hoseok strips your shirt off, and then his fingers press against the band of your bra.

“This too?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to vocalize your answer. Hoseok undoes it easily and you slide it off, shivering a little as the air hits your bare skin.

Jimin’s mouth drops down to your collarbones, then trails lower, and you lean back on your hands to allow him better access.

The couch shifts slightly as Hoseok stands. You hear the sound of his belt hitting the floor at the same time Jimin closes his full lips around your nipple, and the mix of anticipation and sensation is enough to make you moan again.

Jimin sucks the bud into his mouth and teases his tongue over it, earning another whine of pleasure from you. “Yes, Jimin,” you gasp.

Part of you wants to take things slow and enjoy the moment, but another part of you can’t stand being the only person with your pants still on, can’t stand the fact that these two don’t have access to every single inch of you to do whatever they please with.

You don’t wait for either of them to ask, your hands moving beneath Jimin to wriggle your leggings down your thighs.

Jimin takes his mouth off you and giggles, helping to pull your pants the rest of the way off.

You figure it’s your turn to raise the stakes, so you hook your thumbs under your panties and push those down too. Jimin raises his eyebrows as if to ask if you’re sure, and you nod, so he pulls them off. You never would’ve imagined at the start of the evening that you’d end it naked in front of your best friends, or that you would enjoy it so much. It already seems impossible that there was ever a time you didn’t feel this way.

Hobi returns to sit next to you, stripped to his boxers. You only have a moment to wonder what the etiquette is here before he wraps his arms around your waist and scoots you towards him until your back is flush with his chest.

Hoseok’s mouth finds your neck again, clearly enjoying how sensitive you are there. “Hi,” he murmurs against your skin, and then he trails gentle bites from your collarbone to your ear. You can feel the vibrations in his chest as he chuckles when you gasp each time.

He brings a hand up to cup your breast, then rolls your nipple between his fingers and your hips jerk in response. You glance at Jimin who is watching the two of you intently, hand just barely grazing over his boxers.

Jimin brings his other hand to your thigh, and you spread your legs for him. You’re on the verge of desperation, you want it so bad.

“Please,” you whine.

Jimin trails a finger through your folds right as Hoseok gives your nipple a hard tug, and you can’t hold back the cry that rips through you.

“Shit,” Jimin breathes, looking up at you and Hoseok. “She’s already so wet for us.” He slides his finger down to tease circles at your entrance, and you’re so slick that you can hear it. Hoseok groans at the sound.

When Jimin moves up to lightly tap at your clit, you whimper and shudder violently, your head dropping back onto Hobi’s shoulder.

“Yeah, does that feel good?” Hoseok asks, pressing his lips just behind your ear.

Jimin taps again, eliciting the same response from you, even louder this time.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hoseok says with a soft laugh, and you nod. “Jimin, can you keep making her feel good?”

You see Jimin blush a little at the direction. “Yeah, I can do that.”

There’s a moment where Jimin pauses, looking at how much real estate he has left on the couch and clearly trying to do some quick threesome mental math.

“Hang on a second,” he mutters, and then he stands up and begins to drag the coffee table away from the couch. Watching him do it all with his dick straining against his boxers is enough to make you giggle.

Hobi guides you to turn and scoot forward until your hips are at the edge of the couch, his legs resting on either side of yours. He nudges your thigh with his hand and you gently spread your legs again.

He nuzzles into your neck. “This still okay?”

You’re so wet you think you might literally be dripping onto the couch. “It’s better than okay,” you say. He smiles as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

Having sufficiently cleared enough space, Jimin returns to kneel between your spread legs. He’s so fucking pretty, you think to yourself as you watch his eyelashes flutter. His full lips trail teasing kisses along the inside of your thigh, and you smile, reaching down to brush his hair off his forehead.

Without warning, Jimin licks a stripe up the center of your cunt. Hoseok must be watching him because he rolls your nipple between his fingers at the same moment. It feels so good that you almost can’t take it.

“Jimin,” you gasp, aching for more. “Please, I need you.”

Understanding what you mean, Jimin settles in between your legs and brings his mouth to you. You moan as he works your clit, alternating between circling it with his tongue and firm suction from his lips. Everything is so slick, his mouth so soft, that it feels amazing.

When Hoseok’s lips and teeth find your neck again, a wave of pleasure rolls through you. Hoseok’s hands close around yours, and he guides you to wind your fingers in Jimin’s hair.

“Ride his face,” Hoseok groans.

Tentatively, you circle your hips, and Jimin whines encouragingly. “Oh fuck,” you hiss as your cunt slides over his tongue.

You’re already close to coming undone and desperate for it now. You grip Jimin's hair, reveling in the pleasure and the filthy wet sounds as you grind your clit against his tongue. Hoseok nips and licks at your neck, and then you feel his breath in your ear.

“That’s it, baby. Come on his tongue.”

All you can do is whine and nod, and your orgasm crests as they take you apart together.

You keep Jimin’s mouth held firmly to you as you pulse and shudder, until finally it’s too much. You drop your hands and collapse back against Hoseok, who presses a kiss to your temple. You take a moment to lay there, blissed out, letting the post-orgasm high wash over you.

“Wow,” you breathe. “That was fun.”

Jimin wipes his mouth with his hand, then leans forward to rest his head on your stomach. “Very fun.”

“Now what?” You ask, sitting up a little, and the eagerness in your voice makes them both laugh.

“Well, that’s up to you.” Jimin moves to sit on the couch next to you. “We can stop, if you want to stop.”

You can see they’re both still hard, and you feel a little guilty that you got off without so much as touching either of them. “That’s not fair, you two didn’t even…” you trail off, embarrassed.

Hobi shrugs. “Don’t feel like you have to be responsible for it. This was just about making you feel good.”

You smile. “Well, don’t get me wrong, that was amazing.” Your voice shakes a little with nerves. “But I do specifically need to get fucked.”

They look at each other and exchange knowing smiles, clearly pleased with your response.

“But first,” you continue. “Would you show me, uh… what you used to do? After I left?” Their faces both flush and you wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly very aware of your nakedness after stating your desire so plainly. “I mean, only if you want to! Don’t do it if it’s weird. I don’t know what the rules are here.”

Jimin looks at Hoseok with a shrug. “It’s your call, babe,” he purrs in an apparent test of Hoseok’s boundaries.

Hobi snorts. “Don’t call me babe. But yeah, we can show her.” He pauses for a second, making a face like he’s deciding whether or not to say something. “But Jimin, do you want me to…?” He trails off and raises his eyebrows, leaving some question unasked.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you exclaim, your eyes darting between the two of them as you try to understand. “Back up. Is there more?” You’re not sure you could handle much more. “What didn’t you tell me?”

Hoseok keeps staring at Jimin with that same look on his face, then he clears his throat. “Would you like to tell her or should I?”

Jimin giggles, obviously embarrassed. “Hoseok would…” He smiles. “Mmm, how do I put this. He likes to talk. When we did… that together, he would talk to me. I didn’t mind. It was kind of nice, actually.” He shivers a little.

You blink, astounded by the confession. You’ve picked up on their natural leanings towards dominant and submissive, but you never would’ve expected this.

“I… I want to hear it, if that’s okay.”

Silently agreeing that it is, they move to fully strip, Hoseok untangling himself from around you. You can’t watch both of them at the same time and your eyes jump back and forth between them, unable to make a decision.

Never one to turn down the opportunity for a show, Jimin swings a leg over you so that he’s straddling your thigh, thumbs teasing at the waistband of his underwear as he rolls his hips. He’s done this to you before, because he’s Jimin, but never this seriously, and never with his dick straining against his boxers the way it is now.

Your face flushes as you watch him move. You long to reach out and take him in your hand, but you try to behave and not touch the performer. He licks his lips and then gives his waistband a proper tug down, and his dick springs free, thick and perfectly straight. You swallow hard.

Satisfied that you’re appropriately teased, Jimin shifts back to stand up, turning around to peel his boxers all the way off. Even his ass looks good, you think to yourself as you watch him.

You hear a laugh and realize Hoseok has been enjoying the show too, and he steps forward to occupy the space in front of you, gently nudging your legs apart so he can stand between them.

“Would you like to help?” He asks softly, and you nod.

You run your hands along his stomach, scratching your nails against his skin in retribution for his earlier teasing bites. He hisses a little at the feeling, and then you move one hand to palm him over his boxers and he groans.

“Take it out, baby,” he encourages, and you do, slipping the waistband down to pull his cock out. He’s not as thick as Jimin, but the length and slight curve of him make your core throb. He’s rock hard when you wrap your hand around him.

Hoseok bites his lip in an apparent attempt to maintain his composure as you give him a few slow strokes. His fingers brush under your chin and he tilts your head up to look at him. “Do you want to watch us?”

You really do, it’s almost embarrassing how much you want to. You nod and push his boxers down his thighs, and Hoseok smiles, stepping away to finish the job.

They stand in front of the couch, far enough apart to ensure no chance of touching, but still close enough that you can keep your eyes on both of them at the same time. You grab a couch pillow off the floor and hug it to your chest.

The absurdity of the situation clearly sets in, and there’s a pause as no one is quite sure how to begin.

Then Hoseok says in a booming voice, “okay, Jimin-ah!”, and it’s enough to make Jimin double over in laughter, his dick slapping against his stomach.

You wrap your arms around the pillow in your lap as you laugh, too, and it’s with a strange sense of relief. A reminder that these two idiots are the same idiots you know and love, even with their dicks out.

“Stop, stop,” Jimin gasps, trying to breathe. “We have to be serious.”

He manages to compose himself enough to survey Hobi again, a smile still playing at his lips. The look on his face is his classic flirtatious expression, like he’s daring Hoseok to look away first. “Go ahead,” he challenges. “Like old times.”

In unison, they each bring a hand up and spit into it, and you have to keep yourself from giggling. You hide your face behind the pillow, but peek over it, not wanting to miss a thing.

“Touch yourself, Jimin,” Hoseok commands as he begins to stroke himself, and Jimin obeys, starting off at a slightly slower pace.

You bite your lip at the way Hoseok watches him. “How does it feel?”

“Good. Really good.” Jimin grunts, his eyelashes fluttering as he closes his eyes. His hips roll, matching the rhythm of the way he works his cock. You just know his stroke game must be deadly and your cunt clenches, ready for more.

They can’t be the only ones allowed to enjoy this, you reason, and you slip your hand between your legs under the pillow.

“Are you having fun tonight, Jimin?”

Jimin just barely moans as he lets out a sigh, face flushing. “Yes, fuck. It’s so hot.” You bite your lip and nod in agreement as your fingers push into your cunt, still soaked from Jimin’s earlier attention.

“Did you like kissing her?” He smiles, and you can’t help but do the same. “Yeah, I did.”

Hoseok’s voice is a little more breathless now. “Did you like playing with her tits?”

“Uh-huh,” he whines. You slide your other hand up to pinch your nipple, your back arching at the feeling.

“How about making her come on your tongue?”

“Fuck yes,” Jimin groans, pausing to squeeze his hand at the base of his cock. You can see fresh precum leak from him and you lick your lips. You speed up the pace of your fingers. “It was so fucking sexy.”

“Was it as good as you always imagined?” Hoseok says with a dry chuckle.

Jimin rolls his hips into his hand again. “It was better.”

“What else do you want to do tonight, Jimin?”

At this, Jimin’s eyes flutter open, and he stares intently back at Hoseok. “Anything,” he says, and then he fucking winks.

To his credit, Hoseok manages to keep his composure, though he can’t quite hide the smile on his face as he continues to stroke himself. “Is that right?”

Jimin only nods.

Hoseok turns to you, as if he might pose the question to you next, but then he sees the state you’re in. He takes his hand off himself to reach for the pillow, and you don’t fight him as he moves it away, leaving you with nothing to hide behind.

“Holy shit, look at you,” Hoseok breathes.

You let your eyes fall closed as you continue to touch yourself. You’ve never felt more exposed or more turned on.

You sense something move above you, and when you open your eyes again, Hoseok is kneeling in front of you. His hands trace up your thighs, thumbs massaging expertly at the muscles there, and your legs reflexively spread wider to allow him more access.

“Shit, Hobi,” you whine.

“Do you want us to fuck you now?” His low voice is almost a whisper, and all you can do is nod. You slide your fingers out from your cunt. He catches your wrist in his hand and pulls it to him, closing his lips around your slick fingers to taste you with a glint in his eyes.

You whimper at the sight, and your gaze flickers up to Jimin. He’s standing and watching the two of you, pillowy lower lip between his teeth, his hand squeezing the base of his cock.

Hoseok pulls off your fingers and smiles. “Who do you want to fuck you first?”

Your eyes linger on Jimin, and your core throbs at the thought of the way he was rolling his hips.

You look back at Hoseok and a strange wave of anxiety washes over you. Jimin went down on you– if Hobi hasn’t actually done anything yet, shouldn’t he be the one who gets to fuck you first? You’d never considered the mental calculus involved in a threesome before. You don’t want to make anyone feel left out or less desired. You really do want both of them.

He must be able to see the wheels turning in your head, because Hoseok takes your face in his hands, his expression serious. “Hey,” he says, gently shaking your head side to side. You smile a little and he smiles back. “Hi,” he tries again.

“Hi.”

“It’s not a trick question, okay? There’s no wrong answer. I literally just want you to tell me what you want. And if the honest answer is that you want to stop, then that’s also a right answer. You hear me?” You nod your head in his hands, and you think your heart might burst as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Now,” Hoseok tries again. “Would you like to suck my dick while Jimin fucks you?”

You swallow hard. “Yes, please.”

“Do we need condoms?” Jimin asks, and you look up at him, then back down at Hoseok.

“I–I’m okay. I mean, I’m clean, and on the pill. Unless you guys want them.”

“We’re both clean,” Jimin nods, his face flushing a little. “Honestly, not a lot of time for sex in our schedules.”

You can’t help but giggle. “Maybe you should just fuck each other.”

Hoseok barks a laugh. “It would certainly be easier.”

As he’s clearly the person in the room most comfortable giving orders, Hoseok has you switch places with him so that he’s sitting on the couch and you’re kneeling in front of him. You run your hands along his thighs, enjoying the opportunity to return the massage, kneading at the firm muscles in his legs. He groans and lets his head drop back on the cushion as your fingers tease higher and higher.

His dick is hard and leaking, flush against the flat plane of his stomach, and it twitches when you take it in your hand. You work up some saliva in your mouth and let it drop onto him. Hoseok hisses as you spread the wetness over his shaft.

You lean down to put your mouth on him, and that’s when Jimin chooses to slide into you from behind. The way his thick head stretches you open feels so good that you moan around Hoseok’s dick, and his hips snap up in response.

“Shit,” Jimin hisses at the same time Hoseok groans “fuck”. You could get used to making two men fall apart at once, you think.

Jimin fucks you slowly from behind, hips rolling fluidly, and the fullness of him feels incredible after so long. He’s just as good as you thought he would be, and his pace is gentle enough that you can still take Hoseok’s dick in your mouth without feeling like you’re choking on it. You revel in the sensation as Jimin’s rhythm naturally pushes you up and down along Hoseok’s length.

“God, your fucking mouth,” Hoseok groans as you swirl your tongue around him. His hips shudder up towards you, desperate for more, and you can tell that Jimin’s relaxed pace is driving him crazy.

Jimin must notice this because you can hear him giggle softly behind you. “Sorry–” his voice breaks as he grinds into you. “This is about as fast as I can go,” he rolls his hips again with another whine. “If you want me to last.”

You slide your mouth off Hoseok with a wet pop, continuing to stroke him with your hand. “I don’t mind either way, Jimin.” You do your best to look back at him. “It feels fucking amazing.”

You return your attention to Hoseok, and his eyes are dark with lust.

“Can he come in you?” Hoseok asks, his voice hoarse. You lick a stripe up his cock and he groans, laughing a little at how much of a tease you are.

“Yes,” you say with a shy smile.

“Do it, Jimin,” Hoseok commands. “Come in her.”

As if he’s been waiting his whole life to receive the order, Jimin pushes into you with a newfound ferocity. He keeps the same fluid movement but his hips roll faster and faster, and the feeling of his cock pounding into you is so overwhelming that you can’t stop yourself.

“Oh my god, Jimin, fuck, yes, fuck–” You gasp and rock your hips back, matching his rhythm.

You hear Hoseok grunt and for a moment you lose concentration, your thrusts faltering and your head swimming as the worry creeps back in that you’re not giving him enough attention. You look up, still breathless from the way Jimin is fucking you, to see Hoseok jerking his cock at the same tempo, gaze fixed on you. His tongue toys sloppily at the corner of his mouth.

“Do you like watching Jimin fuck me?” You manage to ask, attempting to try out your own dirty talk and simultaneously check in on Hobi. A smile breaks across his face.

“I fucking love it,” he groans, giving himself one long, slow pump before he resumes his steady pace. His other hand reaches up to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Keep fucking yourself on his cock like that. You’re perfect.”

You follow Hoseok’s instructions, rutting back onto Jimin, and it’s enough to finally send him over the edge.

With one final body roll, Jimin pushes all the way into you with a high-pitched whine, his cock pulsing inside of you as he comes. He gives a few shallow thrusts, milking all of his release out, and then he slumps forward, thoroughly spent.

“Holy shit,” he giggles, arms wrapping around your waist. You can feel him trembling, and you turn over in his arms, leaning back against the foot of the couch. Jimin drops his head onto your shoulder and you press your nose into the crook of his neck, trailing a few gentle kisses across his collarbones.

As you shift you feel his cum slowly start to leak out of you, and you look down in mild embarrassment, pressing your knees together. Having someone come inside you is the kind of thing that always sounds sexy until it actually happens, and then it’s just a mess.

Hoseok gives Jimin a few moments to recover, hand still teasing over his own cock, then finally gives his shoulder a squeeze. “Hey, Jimin-ah. Switch with me.”

Too spent to say anything, Jimin grunts and crawls off you, waiting for Hoseok to free up the couch before he collapses face-first onto it.

You expect Hoseok to pull your mouth back onto him, or turn you around so he can slide into you, but instead he kneels in front of you. “Can you sit up for me?” He asks softly, and you lift yourself onto the couch cushion behind you, Jimin shifting to make enough space for your ass.

Hoseok places his hands on your knees, which are still clenched together to hide everything leaking out of you, and he raises his eyebrows in a silent question.

Your pulse quickens at the look in his eyes, and you slowly let your legs drop open.

You can feel his breath over your center, and then he swipes a finger up your thigh to push a trail of arousal back inside you.

“Can I taste you?” Hoseok asks, and you squirm a little in response. “You can say no,” he reminds you.

“I-I mean,” you falter. “I would like that, but– you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. Since it’s… messy. We can just fuck.”

Hoseok laughs. “I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to. And frankly, there isn’t much I don’t want to do to you.” He leans in to lick up another drip running down your thigh and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue against your skin.

He looks at you again, waiting patiently for your final answer, and your face grows hot as you nod your consent. Needing no further encouragement, he spreads your legs even wider and brings his mouth to you.

Hoseok’s tongue is long and precise, and he laps up and swallows every bit of Jimin’s cum from inside you like it’s his last meal. The little gulps and groans he makes as he licks into you again and again are unreal. Your pussy is so sensitive from just being fucked that each stroke of his tongue makes you whimper.

This takes his affinity for cleaning to a whole new level, your last brain cell thinks, and then he drags his tongue up your folds and you can no longer form coherent thoughts. You can only moan while still softly laughing at your own joke as he licks figure eights over your clit.

When he slips two fingers into your cunt, your back arches.

“Fucking shit, Hobi, oh my god–” you moan. You collapse back, lost in the feeling, and knock against Jimin, stretched out on the couch behind you.

You reach towards him, and his hand finds yours, your fingers interlacing. You turn your head to look at him and he’s watching you intently, lips parted slightly and pupils blown with lust.

You’ve gotten the idea a few times tonight that Jimin is a bit of a voyeur, and you’re starting to learn that you quite enjoy being an exhibitionist for him.

Hoseok quickens the pace of his fingers, pressing deliberately on your front wall, and you cry out from the pleasure, your gaze locked on Jimin. “Just like that, just like that,” you whine, and Jimin nods along with you.

You notice that his other hand is reaching to gently palm at his dick, already getting hard again. “God, you are so fucking sexy,” Jimin murmurs.

Hoseok hums around your clit as if in agreement, and your hips jolt up at the feeling. Aware he’s onto something, he keeps going, humming low in his throat while his tongue works your clit, the vibrations rolling through you. His fingers rub circles inside of you, and you writhe, unable to get enough, your peak rapidly approaching.

Jimin shifts on the couch next to you, your fingers still intertwined, letting go of himself to bring his other hand to your neck. He presses his full lips to yours and sweeps his tongue into your mouth with a groan.

The attention from both of them at once is enough to make you come all the way undone.

You break away from Jimin, bearing down hard on his hand in yours, and cry Hoseok’s name as your second orgasm hits you full-force.

Hoseok’s tongue and fingers slow as your walls flutter around him, but he doesn’t completely let up until your final aftershocks subside.

You squirm away from his touch as you become oversensitive, and he laughs and relents, wiping the back of his hand across his face. His nose, lips, and chin are all shining with your slickness, the results of his efforts. It might be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

You’re not sure you remember how to string words together to form sentences, so you’re unable to protest when Hoseok hooks his arm under your knees and pulls your legs up across the couch so that you’re laying down. You roll over in submission and Jimin’s there pressed against you.

Jimin pulls you closer to him, tangling his legs with yours. You lean your cheek into his chest and shut your eyes as your breathing slows. Then he shifts, and you feel something nudge your thigh.

Eyes fluttering open, you glance down and laugh. “I can’t believe you’re already hard again.”

Jimin blushes, kicking his feet a little as if in frustration. “It’s your fault!”

A pair of hands come to your shoulders that could only be Hoseok. Those perfect fingers trail down your back, massaging along your hips. You whine a little at the feeling.

“Well, did you have fun?” He asks, and you turn to see him properly. When he gently rubs his hands across your thighs, you shiver; you’re still overstimulated, but it’s not unpleasant.

“Is it over?”

“If you want it to be,” Hoseok shrugs.

A desire that’s been building up inside of you all night blurts out before you can think to stop it. “I did have one more idea,” you start, then bury your face in Jimin’s shoulder. “I can’t say it, though. I have no idea if it’s even really possible.”

“If it is, we’ll make it happen. We want you to feel good,” Jimin says, wiggling his erection against your hip for added emphasis.

“Okay, but if you don’t actually want to do this, please tell me, and we can all pretend I never said it and that the threesome ended here and everyone was happy.”

“Tell us what you want,” Hoseok commands.

Your voice is nearly a whisper. “I think I want to try double penetration.”

Jimin hums in surprise. “Are you prepped for that?”

You lift your head up as you realize the misunderstanding. “Oh, I– no, sorry, that’s not what I meant. I don’t want to do anal. I was talking about, um, both of you.” You squeeze your eyes shut, face hot as you’re forced to say it out loud. “In my pussy. Together?”

“Wow,” you hear Hoseok groan at the same time Jimin lets out a shaky exhale.

You open your eyes to look at both of them. Hoseok is grinning, and Jimin’s hands roam over your body, gently running along the curve of your waist and then cupping your ass.

“Are you sure?” Jimin asks softly. “That’s probably going to be pretty intense for you.”

You nod, still flushed with embarrassment. Your core is already starting to throb again at the thought. “I learned from a well-endowed hookup that I really like, uh… girth.” You cringe at the unsexy word. “Is that okay? Can we try it? You can say no.”

Jimin grinds his hips against your thigh with a smirk. “I wasn’t joking when I said I was up for anything.”

Hoseok stands up decisively, doing a terrible job at hiding how excited he is about this. “We’re gonna need some lube. Be right back.” He disappears, heading for the bedroom.

The arousal is already pooling in your belly at the promise of what’s to come, and you press your nose into Jimin’s neck, trying to remember how to breathe. “Hi.”

Jimin dips his head to kiss you. His lips are so soft. He pulls away with a small laugh. “Hi yourself.”

“So, this has been a pretty crazy night.”

He’s still smiling, looking as dazed as you feel. “Tell me about it. This is payoff, like, a decade in the making. I don’t think I’ve ever waited so long for anything.”

Your heart skips a beat. “I’m having a really good time.”

Jimin presses another gentle kiss to your forehead. “Me too,” he says, and then Hoseok returns, holding the bottle of lube triumphantly, like it’s a prestigious award or a designer bag.

You sit up and offer your palms to him, and he squeezes a decent amount into each one. The movement is just clinical enough that it has you all giggling, tense with anticipation.

Hoseok and Jimin kneel on either side of you, and you work your hands over them until they’re nice and slick and groaning under your touch. You’re still soaked from Hoseok’s tongue, but you rub what’s leftover on your palm across your entrance, if only for good luck.

Hoseok leans back against the arm of the couch, his dick fully erect and leaking. His eyes are already heavy-lidded with lust, but he’s smiling so big, you don’t even have to ask if he’s enjoying himself.

You crawl over him and he kisses you hungrily as you sink down onto him. He’s longer, and you have to take a second to get used to the new feeling, circling your hips a little.

“God, you take my cock so well,” Hoseok groans, giving your ass a playful smack. You wiggle until you’re sure you’ve sunk as low as you can go on him. “That was the hard part. Now it’s just Jimin,” he teases with a laugh, and Jimin sends a pillow sailing in his direction, missing by several inches.

You lean forward, bracing yourself over Hoseok who takes the opportunity to graze his lips and teeth along the slope of your neck. You feel Jimin’s head press at your entrance.

“Ready?” Jimin breathes, and you look back to nod at him. He starts to push into you, devastatingly slow.

It doesn’t really work like porn or romance novels would have you expect, where everything slides in easily and feels great right away. There’s a stretch and a fullness that’s intensely uncomfortable at first. You have to ask Jimin to stop and wait a couple of times while you adjust and wince at the sensation.

He and Hoseok are impressively patient with you, teasing their hands and mouths over your body in an effort to get your cunt to relax, until you’re nearly shaking from the pressure in your core. Little by little, Jimin manages to slide himself into you alongside Hoseok.

After minutes that seem more like hours, Jimin grunts, his head dropping onto your shoulder as his hips give a final push. “Fuck. That’s it. That’s all of me.”

The pain is still there, but you can tell it’s starting to morph into something else, something good. You’ve never felt anything like it before.

You all take a second to breathe and let it sink in that this is really happening. No one is quite sure what to do next. Hoseok experiments first, rolling his hips in a lazy circle that makes all three of you react with a noise.

“Fuck, Jimin,” he groans. “I can feel you.”

Jimin bites his lip, his cheeks flushing, and nods in agreement.

Hoseok sets the rhythm, thrusting into you with long, slow strokes, and then Jimin’s fingers grip at your hips and he gently starts to move, too.

You can’t help but whimper at the way it feels– you are overwhelmingly, perfectly full.

The sensation is incredible now, the way they slip and grind against each other inside of you. You can only sit there and take it as they alternate fucking into you. You swear and groan their names interchangeably, over and over.

“Tell us how it feels,” Hoseok grunts. “Taking two dicks in your tight little cunt.”

“Fuck, it’s so fucking good,” you moan.

“Shit,” Jimin groans, “all this friction…” He lets out a shaky laugh. “God, I think I’m gonna come again.”

Your breath hitches and Hoseok doesn’t miss a thing. “You like that, baby? You want Jimin to fill you up again?”

You nod with a whimper. “And you. Both of you.”

Hoseok laughs and groans at the same time. “Oh my god, you are so fucking hot.” He punctuates the final words with three thrusts into you, picking up his pace. Each thrust means he slides against Jimin, and on the third one, you hear a moan behind you.

“Shit, Hoseok, agh! I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jimin ruts into you in fast, short strokes as his climax hits, and his cock twitches and shudders inside you again.

As Hoseok groans beneath you, you realize that he can feel it all too.

“Fuck yes, Jimin,” Hoseok hisses. The extra slickness of Jimin’s fresh arousal just makes everything that much easier, that much messier, and that much hotter. You know Hoseok is fast approaching his end as he fucks you, his strokes deep and hard.

The way his length bottoms out inside you when you’re already so tender is too much, and you lean back into Jimin.

“Yes, fuck, yes, I’m–” you gasp with each thrust, and then your third orgasm takes you by surprise and you can’t do anything but cry out.

Jimin wraps an arm over your shoulders to steady you. You can feel him trembling beneath you as your walls pulse around both of them again and again and again. You’ve never come this hard in your life, and the endless waves of your orgasm are enough to finally bring Hoseok to his peak with a hoarse groan of your name.

Your hips grind down on him and work him through his release and the aftershocks of yours, riding out every last bit until your cunt is quivering from overstimulation. With all three of you entirely spent, you let yourself crash from the high and slump forward against Hoseok’s chest.

There are a few moments of bliss before you feel everything start to drip down your thighs. It probably should be gross to be so full of lube and two loads of cum. Maybe it will be in a few minutes, you think to yourself.

But right now, it’s fucking hot.

“Holy shit,” you whisper as the room slowly returns around you. You can feel both of them starting to soften inside you, and you glance down, mostly because you can’t believe that really just happened.

When you do, you realize that at some point, Hoseok must have also gripped onto your hips, probably when he was fucking up into you. You were too busy taking two dicks at once to keep track of exactly who was doing what when. But now, you see that Hoseok and Jimin have interlaced their fingers together over the curve of your hips.

It’s one of the tamest things that’s happened tonight, but something about it makes your heart crack open.

Your breathing uneven, you run a finger along their still-joined hands. It’s only when the first drop of moisture hits your cheek that you realize you’re crying.

You’re turned enough towards him that Jimin is able to see your expression, and then he’s the first one to break the scene, shifting to slowly withdraw from inside you. He scoots back on the couch, and you feel his hands come to cup your shoulders.

Hoseok keeps his hands on your hips, his touch featherlight as he lifts you up so he can slide out as well. The look on his face is concern mixed with pure love, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed with appreciation for all that he is, all that they both are, your two best friends. That hasn’t changed.

Jimin speaks first. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Come here.”

You lean into his touch and allow yourself to lie down as more tears spill over. Jimin’s fingers scratch along your scalp, and you roll onto your side and curl up. “Post-orgasm chemicals can be weird, and that was–” he bites back a laugh, “–really fucking intense. Just let it out.”

You’re leaking out of both ends, you think to yourself, and you press your cheek into the couch cushion, laughing and crying at the same time. “This is so embarrassing. I swear to god I’m fine.”

You feel what must be Hoseok’s hand rubbing gently along your thigh, and his voice confirms it. “Happy tears?”

You nod. “Very happy tears. That was incredible.”

Hobi wiggles his body into the tight space between you and the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around you to keep you from falling off. “You were incredible. I’m glad you had fun.” He shudders softly against you and you look up to see Jimin running his other hand through Hoseok’s hair.

“We definitely did,” Jimin says with a small giggle as he scratches both of your heads. “I think our inner teenagers can rest happy with the knowledge that it did finally end up happening one day.”

You smile. “I’m glad it happened now, because I definitely couldn’t have done any of that when I was a teenager.”

Hobi cackles into the crook of your neck. “And Jimin would’ve came even faster than he did tonight!”

At this, Jimin fists the hand in Hoseok’s hair, leaning over him. “My dick is sensitive, and I don’t appreciate you making fun of it,” he growls.

Realizing how close their faces are, Hobi is the one to start the game of chicken this time, tilting his face up towards Jimin. “Is that right, Jimin-ah? Got a sensitive dick?”

Jimin doesn’t miss a beat and continues to lean towards Hoseok’s mouth, tugging on his hair. You really think they might actually do it this time, considering everything else that’s happened, but Hoseok finally relents in an explosion of giggles, turning to hide his face against your shoulder before Jimin can kiss him.

“I yield, I yield!”

Some things never change. ~*~

Approximately half an hour and one shower later, the three of you are again collapsed together in a heap on the couch, shifted over by one cushion to avoid the wet spot. Jimin’s arms are wrapped around your waist while Hobi plays with your hair.

They’ve lent you clothes to sleep in, and the big t-shirt (Hoseok’s) and black sweatpants (Jimin’s) are each infused with the scent of their respective owner. Smelling like both of them at the same time makes you feel loved, even claimed. Your brain is buzzing from the post-threesome and post-crying endorphin overload (not to mention the THC), and you sigh happily.

“Hey, Hobi?” You say with a restrained giggle. He turns to look at you, brushing his damp hair off his forehead. “I think you might be a little gay now.”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh my god. Shut up.”

“Your dick literally touched another dick. Like, a lot.”

“Yeah, inside you! Surely that negates the gay part!”

“I don’t know, Hobi,” Jimin says in agreement. “You also ate cum out of her. I don’t even swallow that stuff, man.”

“I hate you both,” Hoseok laughs, folding his arms behind his head. “Look, I don’t give a shit. If enjoying every single second of tonight makes me gay, then I’ll lead the fucking pride parade.”

You laugh, scrambling to find your phone. Now you have to play Gaga. You put on Bad Romance and Hoseok instantly sits up.

“Okay, I do also know the dance to this. Wanna see?” He untangles himself from you and Jimin to jump up and strike a pose, hands already fixed into monster claws.

Jimin giggles, leaning in to nuzzle your cheek. “I’m gonna go make some buldak, but please film this so we can blackmail him forever.”

~*~

A/N: if you actually made it all the way to the end you're a real one. i'm v lazy about crossposting/putting my masterlist together on here, but i've got more stuff on AO3 if you enjoyed!! would love to hear your thoughts, i'm honestly dying for more friends in this space lol. thanks for reading 💜

#hoseok x reader #hoseok smut #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts smut #don't rly wanna tag this as jihope bc it's like... not gay? only a little gay?#what am i doing with my life #two in one

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footballffbarbiex · 2 years ago

Text

Casual.

player: jack grealish words: 641 request: a small blurb for grealish just cuddling in bed watching tele and laying between his legs and squeezing his thighs and calfs in a little massage n stuff 🥰

As much as he liked being in relationships, more so the companionship than anything, Jack hadn’t seen himself as the settling down type. Even at the start of this relationship, he hadn’t been sure how long it would last. He would always refer to her as his girlfriend, never shied away from talking about her, and never denied who she was to him if he was asked, but it wasn’t until she had to go away for several weeks, and the contact was less that he realised he felt very differently about her.

Normally, through no fault of the women he’d dated, he didn’t mind if he didn’t get a text goodnight or good morning. He’d always double check that everything was ok later on the day but understood that people were just sometimes busy. Sometimes, people just didn’t have anything to say, and Jack didn’t take offence to this. Sometimes, he also didn’t want to speak when he got in from a hard training session which maybe didn’t go his way or after a game when he just needed to sit on his own for a while. But with her, he found himself growing agitated if they hadn’t spoken for a few hours.

Maybe it was the fact that she wasn’t readily available to him. Maybe it was because it felt that he had to try harder to get her attention and hold onto it while she was away. He didn’t know the exact cause for his shift in how he felt about her and their relationship, but what he did know was that when she came home, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

He became more vocal about wanting to spend the night with one another, it didn’t matter if it was at his house or hers. He found he didn’t even want or need to be physical with her, simply laying in bed or on the couch with her close enough to be within non-sexual touching distance was enough. He liked knowing he could speak to her without having to pick up his phone and tonight was no exception to this.

With her head on Jack’s stomach, she absentmindedly strokes over where she can reach. The other side of his waist, over his hips, the defined V lines which leads to his shorts, the exposed skin of his thighs, her hands drift everywhere but the growing bulge that was getting harder to ignore. He’s given up dropping hints about where else she can use her hand, laughing when she’d reply with a gentle bite to his skin when he suggested it.

“You need to speak to physio about this, you’ve still got knots here.” She comments, pressing three fingers into his muscle before easing up a little when he growls through gritted teeth. “Sorry.” Despite the single word apology, she doesn’t remove her fingers and instead continues to press, making small but precise circles to try and relieve some of this tightness.

“I like you being here.” He says, his own hand moving to her head and strokes over her hair as softly as he can.

“You like living with hope that I might…” she walks her fingers dangerously close to where his semi-hard dick twitches before she moves her fingers away again.

“That too, but I do like you being here.”

“You’re getting soft on me Jack? You’ll be giving me closet space and a key soon.”

“Would you accept them if I did?”

“I might think about it.”

“Only might?” he asks, amusement in his voice as he frowns, trying to work out what her thoughts are.

“Only you could throw out there a casually throw out there something as important as this. If this is what giving you a little massage gets me then-”

“-Wait until you see how I’d propose.”

If you’d like to be added/removed/update your URL, then please let me know here. Crossed out means that tumblr cannot find your blog at this time.

#jack grealish one shot #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish blurb #jack grealish drabble #jack grealish fanfic #jack grealish #football one shot #football imagine #football blurb #football drabble #football fanfic #football fanfiction #footballer one shot #footballer imagine #footballer blurb #footballer drabble #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction

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im-constantly-fangirling-backup · 3 years ago

Text

Here Comes the Cavalry

REPOST BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swear words

Word Count: ~2.3k

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, anon! I had a really fun time writing this and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Charlie's 10th birthday finds itself the center of a showdown between Thomas and his ex-wife over the new woman in his life.

[Masterlist] [Taglist Form] [Join my 200 followers celebration!]

Being a friend of the Shelby's- didn’t matter how close or distant- was like walking around with a target on your back. But you didn’t mind. As much violence and chaos that the family attracts, and as much as they try to have power over each other, there was a mutual love and respect between every Shelby that you hadn’t seen anywhere else. For example, when Polly found out Tommy had hidden crucial information, she was pissed; but also proud. It was a bit concerning, if you were going to be honest. Even Grace was kept in the loop after the divorce. Once a Shelby, always a Shelby, you supposed. Grace wasn’t involved in the family business at all, but she and the family met occasionally. Although, as time passed on, it was mostly so Charlie could spend time with his father. Grace was now remarried and her visits were far and in between. She drifted apart from all the Shelbys- not that they minded, as her betrayal was still in their minds all those years later. Thomas started to move on from her as well, now very much used to Grace not being a part of his day-to-day life. Today was the day that Grace and Charlie were making a rare visit to the Arrow House for his 10th birthday. Thomas postponed all of his meetings for the entire week to make time for his son, an action that made you smile when you heard Tom tell his clients of his absence. And they call him heartless, you had laughed to yourself. “Ada! How are you doing!” you said, hugging your best friend before walking into the Arrow House. You took off your coat and hung it on the hook next to the door. “Oh I’m doing great sweetheart,” she said. “Auntie Y/NNNNNN!” you heard a little boy’s voice yell from the stairs. The pitter-patter of their feet running across the wooden floor echoed through the large room and made you chuckle. “Hello, Karl!” you kneeled on your knees and opened your arms for Karl, who ran into them and almost made you topple over. “Someone’s excited to see me!” You squeezed him lightly, resting your cheek on his head. You pulled away from him and reached into your purse, grabbing a chocolate bar that you had bought for Karl. “I got you something!” Karl smiled, his cute crooked teeth on display. “Thank you!” He grabbed the bar from your hand and started unwrapping it, running away from you and towards the living room. “Uncle Arthur, look what Auntie Y/N gave me!” he yelled. “What did I say about the chocolate?” Ada chided you. You laughed. “I couldn’t help it Ada,” you defended yourself. “He’s too adorable to not spoil.” In the background, you heard Karl laugh loudly. “You can’t have any Uncle Arthur, it’s for me!” You chuckled and shook your head, looking down at the floor in mock exasperation. The Arrow House would be nothing without the echoes of Karl’s screams bouncing around the walls from time to time. Even Thomas seemed to brighten up a bit more whenever Karl and Ada visited. You supposed it was because his nephew reminded him of his own son that he barely got to see. At the thought of Charlie, you looked up to Ada. “When are Charlie and Grace showing up?” Ada shrugged. “They should be here in a couple of minutes. Why don’t we head to the living room? Tommy bought a shit ton of food for Charlie so we might be able to steal a bit.” _______________________________________________________________________________________ You and Ada made your way into the living room and smiled at the exquisite birthday decorations. There were balloons of every color bunched up every couple of feet around the room, a large birthday banner hanging proud and true on the wall across from the fireplace. “Hello, Y/N. Ada,” Tom said from where he sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees. You smiled at him. “Thomas.” Tom smirked slightly- which was a fucking bright-ass grin when it came to Thomas. “We’ve been over the ‘Thomas’ shit, Y/n/n,” he said, quirking his brow. You chuckled. “We have,” you said. “Tom. ‘S just fun to be all fucking formal.” Tom pat the spot on the couch next to him while Ada left your side, sensing that you two wanted some

time alone. You walked over to Tom and sat next to him. “You excited?” Thomas nodded, his blue eyes brightening slightly. “I hardly get to see Charles anymore. You bet your ass I’m spoiling me boy when he’s here,” he joked. You laughed. “I’m sure Charlie’s going to like all of this,” you gestured to the decorations around you. “Oh! Before I forget! Where should I put this?” You reached into your purse and pulled out a folded mancala board that Charlie had begged you for the last time he visited. Thomas smiled and took the board from you, leaning down and sliding it under the couch. “We’re going to open presents after cake, so just remember to pick it back up.” From there, you and Thomas began to talk about the family business. Unlike with Grace, Thomas found himself consulting you on many decisions that he made. You weren’t directly involved but your advice was greatly appreciated by the family. Especially since Thomas wanted to get into politics- a field that you knew well because your father ran for MP multiple times before his death- your advice on what not to do gave him valuable insight on how to maintain a favorable public image. “I know your past is something that can’t be erased,” you said in response to Tom’s concerns about the subject. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be hidden. Or at least left ambiguous enough that people can’t ask the right questions. You keep the public from asking the right questions, and you make sure they can never find the answers.” “It’s a bit unnerving that you know this,” Tom noted, a smirk on his face. In truth, he was impressed. Your knowledge of politics was quite extensive considering your father tried to keep you away from it for most of your life. But you knew how to eavesdrop and read gossip, and so you gained a wealth of knowledge about politics. You laughed. “You’re acting like you don’t already know this.” Thomas took a drag of his cigarette and chuckled. “You got me there.” Your conversation was interrupted by the distinct shrill of the doorbell. Tom perked up and smiled. “Charles is here!” He practically jumped up from his seat on the couch and made his way to the hall. You followed him to the hall, beckoning Karl, Ada, and Arthur- who had been quietly eating food in the corner, thinking Tom hadn’t noticed- to come with you. You and the group walked into the hall to the sight of Thomas laughing and picking up Charlie in his arms and bouncing him up and down, making his son giggle. “Happy birthday Charlie!” you exclaimed, clapping. Arthur, Karl, Ada- and John and Polly, who had been talking in the hall after you arrived- clapped and joined in wishing Charlie a happy birthday. Charlie and Karl shared a hug that resulted in you awing. You looked at Grace and smiled. “Welcome, Grace,” you greeted her respectfully. Grace simply nodded at you and took off her coat. Turning around to put her coat on the coat hooks next to the door, she gasped lightly in shock when she saw your coat resting next to Tom’s. “Whose coat is this?” she asked casually. You apologized profusely. “It’s mine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I can find a different place for it-” Thomas waved his hand nonchalantly. “Oh, no need. You’re not imposing, Y/n/n.” You blushed slightly. “Frances can take your coat, Grace. I trust you remember who she is?” He jabbed at her lightly. Grace huffed and nodded. “Alright.” The tension between Tom and Grace was palpable and made everyone make excuses to leave the room. You left as well, saying something about wanting to play around with Karl and Charlie. You knew things were bad between Thomas and Grace. So bad, in fact, that Tom had approached her with a divorce. Tom was many things, but he wasn’t the type of person to reach for a divorce. He believed that marriage lasted for life. But after Tom’s and Grace’s arguments over his ambitions and dreams started to grow from skirmishes to screaming matches littered with threats, Thomas had enough. He told you the night that he decided to divorce Grace that he didn’t want to spend his life with a woman

that didn’t support his political and business ambitions. You found yourself sympathizing with both of them. You understood Grace’s concerns about the target that would always be on her and Charlie’s back because of Thomas’s ambition. But you also understood Thomas’s argument that his ambitions were also the thing that would provide his family with more opportunities than he had. Thomas’s goals were a double-edged sword. Although, Grace had become quite cold to Thomas in retaliation for the divorce, often sending him and his family veiled insults. So you didn’t feel much remorse for her when Tom made barbed comments like the one made in the hall. You sighed while watching Karl and Charlie play. It was going to be a long party. _______________________________________________________________________________________ All of you were eating cake, you talking with Polly about some gossip that you heard when going shopping for groceries. “Apparently Brandon was just using her for her status,” you said, licking the frosting off of your fork. “But then Brandon caught Melissa sleeping with her boss-” “No fucking way!” Polly interrupted, putting her plate down and gasping. “How the hell do these things happen to people!” You laughed. “I know right! My life is boring in comparison- and I hang out with you insane idiots!” “Hey!” John said from across the table, his mouth full of cake. “We’re not that bad!” “Speak for yourself,” Ada muttered from next to her brother, cringing when John stuck his cake-covered tongue out at her. “Honestly, Y/N,” Grace’s refined voice reverberated through the dining room, “You shouldn’t be gossiping this much. It’s a boring pastime.” You quirked your brow. “I’m sorry?” “Oh it’s alright, I understand that some people have nothing better to talk about. I’m just saying, gossip signals a bland personality and I’m sure you don’t have that, hm?” Grace’s implied message was clear. You sat in silence for a moment, surprised. “No?” you said, going along with whatever Grace said. In all honesty, you didn’t care what Grace thought of you. She barely visited enough for you to give a shit. But apparently, Tom didn’t want to let it slide. “Look, Grace, it’s not a big deal to gossip, alright? You’d be a big fucking hypocrite telling Y/n/n not to gossip when pretty much everything you talked about was who was fuckin’ who-” “Thomas!” Grace chided. “What? If you’re going to walk in here and criticize how Y/n/n spends their time, you can fuck off, alright? I don’t need some posh stuck-up woman in me house. So either behave yourself and let Charlie have a good birthday,” Thomas threatened, “Or get out of me house and have fun on the streets for a week.” “You’d let your own son live on the streets for a week?” Grace asked, shocked. “My threat regards only you. Charles is me blood- you make me see blood.” Grace looked down at her plate and picked up her fork and ate her cake again. Tom took that as an agreement to get along with everyone and started eating again as well. You were just thankful that you had sent Karl and Charlie to play upstairs. But regardless of the tense situation, a smile graced your face at the immediacy that Tom defended you with. _______________________________________________________________________________________ “Hey,” you tapped Thomas’s shoulder when you both found yourselves alone in the back room. “Thank you for defending me.” Tom nodded and smiled slightly. “Of course.” “I mean it. No one really defends me so I really appreciate it. Especially since it’s Grace.” Tommy’s brows raised slightly at that comment. “What do you mean?” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at Tom. “I mean, she was the woman that made you the person you used to be before France. I understand there’s some bad blood between you two now, but she’s still special to you.” Tom hummed and walked closer to you, stopping at around 2 feet away from you. “So are you, you know. You’re special to me.” You smiled. “You’re special to me, too.” Thomas’s hand cupped your cheek lightly, his thumb stroking

back and forth. A flush made its way to your cheeks and you smiled shyly at Tom. There was always some unspoken bond between the two of you that you danced around. You were always scared that it was too early after his divorce, but with the way that he was looking at you, he probably got over it a while ago. You don’t know who leaned forward first, but one second later your mouths were connected in a feverish kiss. Tom’s hands were traveling places, touching parts of your body that you caught him eyeing from time to time. Your hands rested against his chest and reveled in the feeling of his heart thumping against his chest as erratically as yours. So you had the same effect on him as he did on you. The kiss was a good indicator of that, but it was nice to have reassurance. Tom pulled away and rested his forehead on yours. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for months now,” Tom confessed. You smiled, pecking him on the lips. “So have I,” you replied, pulling his mouth back to yours.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby angst #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine

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ghoulciifer · 4 years ago

Text

hc: calling Bokuto, Kuroo, and Oikawa daddy for the first time.

tw: none

tags: nsfw, daddy kink, established relationships

note: so the person who requested this decided to go on anon after i reached out bc tumblr deleted the draft while i was working on it, but i want them to know that i loved writing this asdlfjfhshs thank you for blessing me with this prompt. as always, thank you for your support and my inbox is open ❥

» we all know bokuto’s got a size kink, so a daddy kink really isn’t that hard to believe

» but you didn’t know that! he’s a nervous boy when you two start getting intimate, he wants to sit down and have a talk about preferences but is too afraid it’ll make you uncomfortable since your sexual relationship is still pretty fresh what a sweet boy

» so of course you stumble upon his love for the term by complete chance

» bokuto’s got you pinned to the mattress, his strong arms folding your thighs to your chest as he pounds into your dripping cunt with fervor

» your breathy moans and slurred praises only spur him on, earning you a few grunts and moans of his own as he picks up his already brutal pace, all so he can hear more of your sweet noises

» this does the trick because you’re immediately screaming his name and gasping for air, holding onto his shoulders to ground yourself as he presses further, the new angle allowing your pussy to swallow him more

» somewhere in between your babbling it kinda just slips out

» “Ah-ha, fuck, Kou-... daddy, it feels so g-good...”

» man’s brain literally short circuits, like his eyes widen a little and his jaw drops

» once you feel his hips falter a bit you open your eyes to see his expression

» honestly you weren’t even aware that you said the word

» but when you finally realize you did, in fact, just call your boyfriend daddy, heat rushes to your face and embarrassment rises in the pit of your stomach

» bokuto is quick to regain his composure though and flashes you a toothy grin, brow quirked upward as a muscular arm moves to rest one of your legs against his shoulder, deepening the angle so his length is sheathed to the hilt inside you

» he then leans forward and sneaks a hand between your sweat ridden bodies to find your neglected bundle of nerves, mouth hovering over yours while his fingers work miracles

» this promptly earns a pleasured yelp from you and he doubles his efforts in filling you up once more

» “Babygirl, daddy’s gonna take such good care of you. Keep singin’ for daddy, yea?”

» i feel like this mf would hint at having a daddy kink after a while, also probably would be too nervous to bring it up bc he’s scared to make you uncomfortable

» so of course he’s gonna approach it with humor

» “Haha wouldn’t it be hot if you called me daddy? jk jk... unless?”

» you know, Kuroo things god he’s such a dork

» so eventually you do decide to indulge him, plus, you’ve kinda been waiting to do it too

» and when’s the best time to drop that on him? completely out of the blue, of course

» you were curled up into his side under a pile of blankets on the couch, kuroo’s arm swung over the back while watching some science documentary he swore you would like because it had animals in it

» but of course he was wrong and you found yourself bored out of your mind not long after the film started

» you tried so hard to pay attention, even using your boredom as an excuse to soak up all the cuddling time you were getting from your boyfriend, but that feeling didn’t last long, either

» “Babe... can we watch something else, please? This documentary’s too long and the guy’s voice is putting me to sleep.”

» “Come on, Y/N, it’s not that bad.”

» that’s the only response you get because his eyes are still glued to the TV, completely focused on the information splayed across the screen

» you groan quietly and cross your arms at the lack of attention. was this stupid documentary really more important than your sanity?

» suddenly the idea springs into the forefront of your mind and you can’t suppress the grin that tugs at your lips

» sitting up completely, you throw the blanket in your lap off to the side and pull your legs beneath you to sit on your knees beside him

» he shifts slightly to allow you more room to move but he doesn’t so much as spare a glance your way

» you scoot closer to him and rest one hand on his thigh, bringing the other to his chin so you can properly turn his head toward your waiting lips and whisper

» “Can we please watch something else, daddy?”

» kuroo has never moved so fast in his life

» he lurches forward to hit the off button on the remote before turning and pinning you against the sofa cushion, his mouth latching onto the soft skin at your throat

» you can feel his lips twitch into a sinister grin when you gasp at his already hard cock pressing into your inner thigh through the fabric of his sweats, and his fingertips find their way down to dig into your hips

» “Oh, kitten, you have no idea what you started...”

» oikawa seems like the kinda guy to have that intimacy talk before things start getting hot and heavy, just bc he wants to know what is and isn’t acceptable before putting you in such a vulnerable situation

» so you pretty much knew ab his daddy kink since you started having sex lol

» BUT you didn’t spring it on him just yet because he made it very clear that you don’t have to do anything he wants to, he wants to take it at your pace

» truthfully you were eager to indulge in that side of him but you wanted to wait a bit, so when you do finally surprise him it’ll be that much sweeter

» it’s a good while into your relationship, around the 8-9 month mark, before you just can’t hold it in anymore

» oikawa’s got you pulled onto his lap in the backseat of his car, you ride his length at an achingly slow pace and your cunt squeezes his twitching cock for all its worth with each roll of your hips

» his hands are bruising your thighs as he sucks harshly at the sensitive skin just at the juncture between your neck and collarbone, leaving his mark wherever he can in an attempt to satiate his need to devour you as soon as possible

» your own hands tangle their way into the (now) messy brunette locks atop his head and tug harshly whenever he tries to thrust his hips upward to sink deeper into you, earning a guttaral moan from him every time

» “Fuck, Y/N, I need you to go faster for me, baby.”

» he practically whimpers against your skin, trying to maintain the deep tenor of his voice but the way your pussy is clamping down on his cock so tight, so slowly makes his tone waiver

» you can’t help but grin at your achievements before deciding now is a good a time as ever, so you lean forward and whisper softly into his ear between each labored breath

» “Then make me, daddy.”

» you swore you felt his dick get impossibly harder inside you the second the words left your mouth

» his palms move up to put your hips into a vice grip before he’s slamming you down onto his cock, the head nudging harshly against your cervix and promptly knocking the wind out of you with a squeal

» he takes advantage of your open, gasping mouth and shoves his tongue into it before setting an absolutely brutal pace against your sopping wet core

» your nails are digging into his shoulders in a failed attempt to ground yourself but he’s already got you seeing stars, and as he leans back for air he’s got the most sinful smirk on his face

» “I’ve been waitin’ forever to hear you say that, princess. Daddy’s gonna fuck you nice n’ hard, now, don’t you worry.”

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #oikawa smut #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu headcanons #bokuto headcanons #kuroo headcanons #oikawa headcanons #hofortendouheadcanons

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littlegodzilla · 3 years ago

Text

The Three of Us. MacxReader JoexReader +18

Hi!

First of all, I'm sorry it took me so long to post something new. I had the whole story in my head and little by little it has been fading away and now I'm a bit collapsed in a loop that.... Well, I'm really sorry.

I'll try to keep posting more often, I promise!

The Three of Us. (2)

Characters: Mac Red Canyon, Joe styrofoam soul, Negan Smith TWD, Fem reader.

Warnings(All the series): Mental Disorders. Bad language. Metion of child abused. Drugs. Violence. SMUT. Fingering. Threesome. Blowjobs. Oral sex. Double Penetration. Dirty talk.

Warning this chapter: mental disorders. Drugs.

Summary: You start working at the psychiatric hospital outside of New York. Not only are there patients with mental problems, there are also people trying to cure themselves of their addictions. Joe and Mac are two of them.

N/A: Mac is doing bad things in mine mind…

N/A: Yes I used Negan because I think he fits here pretty well.

Sorry I'm going to re tag you people because tumblr is giving me problem, sorry the double notification.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc @lilythemadqueen @purple-serenity @ruinedbythehobbit

Part 2.

When you open your eyes again you feel a sharp prick running through your head. You gasp and close your eyes again, placing your hands on your head. It hurts like hell and you aren’t quite sure how you got in that room, you sit up very slowly, with the memories of what happened still flooding your mind. You can still feel the touch of Mac's tongue on your cheek, your skin bristles at the memory of his scent permeating your skin, his hand closing around your throat like a pincer, his fingers...

You close your eyes as your whole body shakes and you squeeze your legs together at the memory. You shouldn't have let that happen, you should have pushed him away, but he had managed to completely dominate you, leaving you trembling in his hands.

"Yer gonna be mine." You hear his voice in your mind and gasp.

No, you can't fall.

You get up from the bed still feeling dizzy in the head, the door opens at that very moment, several of your classmates walk in along with Principal Smith and they all look at you with concern, your cheeks flare because it's possible they saw what Mac was doing to you. It's embarrassing and humiliating, the last thing you wanted was to become a nuisance on your first day of work. Your eyes fill with tears at the thought that you might be fired for your damned incompetence. You sniffle violently and cover your face with both hands so they don't see you crying, the last thing you need is for them to feel sorry for you. One of your classmates comes to you hugging you tightly, trying to comfort you.

"How are you?" Negan asks you holding one of your arms, pulling it away from your face, you look at him sideways and his eyes show you a totally worried grimace. "Are you in pain? Your head? You hit the wall pretty hard, young lady."

"I-I'm s-sorry I... I took the clothes down to the Laundary and-and I didn't know Mac was there, and-I..." you babble incoherently without stopping crying and sniffling through your nose.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see them glance at each other with a worried look on their faces, which makes you frown in confusion at their stares, but your head hurts too much to dwell on it. Your companion releases you and hands you a little plastic cup, you look at it curiously, inside are a couple of colored pills, you frown once again not understanding what's going on. Negan sighs and pats your shoulder with extreme care.

"It's a painkiller for your head and an antibiotic, you took a good blow to your nose, we don't want it to get infected." He explains feeling your body visibly relax at his words.

You take the medication feeling your mind blur for a second at the abrupt gesture throwing your head back, the world is moving under your feet and you need to sit back down. Your companions help you, you feel them moving around you doing various tests even measuring your blood pressure, that your body is not going through the shock yet, but you are fine, mainly it is the headache that is killing you, but it stabilizes itself to the effect of the pills you have taken.

"Try to relax a bit and rest." Negan tells you and you look at him sideways, "Your shift for today is over, okay? We'll check on you later."

"Okay... What's going to happen with Mac?" you dare to ask feeling your eyes fill with tears again.

"Don't worry about him, he's under control, he's not going to give you any more trouble." He tries to comfort you but he himself doesn't seem too sure of his own words. You nod your head closing your eyes, curling up on the bed, you really need to rest.

You don't know how long you've been sleeping, but the windows show you the darkness of the street and that scares you. You shouldn't stay there so long, you have to go home, not to mention all your lost work shift. You sit up in bed, your head no longer hurts, you don't feel dizzy, the medication you've been given has worked properly and you feel relieved. Instinctively you touch your nose and it hurts, it is not broken or twisted, but it still hurts from the impact against the wall.

You get out of bed to go to the nurse's station to change out of your work pajamas into your clothes and leave. You want to talk to the director to ask for a double shift tomorrow to cover the hours you've missed. You hope to find Negan still in his office. You move to leave when your eyes detect movement next to you. For a second panic washes over you as you discover the figure of an ashen blond man leaning against the wall biting his thumbnail, he looks at you nervously as you discover him there. He steps away from the wall to approach your position, but you back away and he stops, raising his hands in peace.

"D-don't be afraid, I'm Joe." He says sincerely even as he looks sideways at you, afraid to look directly at you. "I-I just wanted to know how you were doing..." He murmurs and something softens inside you as you see his worried, saddened look. You want to tell him it's not his fault, but you're not sure if it's the right thing to do.

"Thank you... I didn't realize that... I didn't know he was there."

"Sometimes they send us out to do chores like that, to keep our minds busy, you know, because of the withdrawal and all..." He explains and his body jerks. "He'd been locked up for a few days, controlled, but he escaped... I'm really, really sorry..." He mumbles lowering his gaze again. You bite your lip and dare to approach him.

You caress his cheek to make him look at you, his eyes glisten from the tears that invade them and your heart squeezes again. Joe is good, a lost soul, but there is no evil in him, you know it, he has proved it to you those days you have been talking to him, getting to know him better. You smile a little and kiss him on the cheek lovingly, you feel him tense at your touch, but he doesn't really move.

"Thank you for caring, Joe, you don't have to..."

"Yes I do... I worry about you, I don't want you to get hurt, they don't understand..." But he falls silent biting his lip nervously. "Mac doesn't want to hurt you, but he doesn't know... He doesn't know how to talk to you..." He tries to explain himself and his gaze falls back to his feet, playing with his hands nervously.

You watch him in silence, with your heart in a fist, his good intention for Mac, wanting to make you see that he is not a bad person, that he acts by instinct, that he takes what he wants without asking, but this is not how things should be done, he has to understand that there are limitations and that he should know how to respect the personal space of each one. You smile and dare to give him another kiss on the cheek, but Joe turns his head towards you kissing you. You tense up without reciprocating his kiss, he doesn't force it to make it more intense either. He pulls away and looks at you nodding.

"I-I'm glad you're better." He says to you and pulls away from you leaving the room quietly so the nurses on duty won't notice he has left his room without permission.

You stand there for a second longer, your heart pounding, feeling your lips wet from the kiss. Your cheeks burn violently and you feel yourself trembling from head to toe. What is happening to you? Why are you unable to control yourself? You are an employee of that place, you should be more professional and not get carried away by the strange feelings that both men are making you feel.

Because yes, maybe Mac is foul-mouthed, rude and unpleasant in several aspects, but he has also managed to sneak into your mind making you feel ashamed of your own thoughts.

Time passes faster than you thought. It's been several months since you started working there, it's also been a few days since what happened with Mac and since that day you haven't met him directly, which you're grateful for, you're not sure you could face him. However, you had been aware that your fellow patients were spending more time with you, there was always someone around you making sure you weren't left alone with the sick people in the ward, which prevented you from being able to approach Joe and talk to him about the kiss in the room that night. Although you weren't sure if it could be called a kiss either.

Still you don't want to lose contact with him, Joe is different from Mac, he has always been nice to you, he is the complete opposite of his brother, roommate, whatever. Whenever you can you try to get close to him, it's easier to do it in the hours where they are all together in the great room or when they go out in the yard to let the sun warm them up a bit, but as always, there is a roommate nearby, holding you down and pulling you somewhere else, giving you any task, no matter how absurd, to keep you busy. Occasionally your gaze would even connect with that of the ashen blond smiling sadly and he himself would wander off to another spot in the yard, losing sight of you.

"Any word from Mac?" You ask a colleague that morning, as you have not heard from the man for many days and you begin to worry.

"He's in isolation." He explains, glances sideways at his coworkers and looks back at you. "There's an... isolation room on one of the floors, it's like a punishment, Smith locks them in there sometimes to calm them down. When the withdrawal anxiety gets too much for them."

"But is anyone taking care of him? He can't be alone, that would be much worse for him." You try to understand, but your partner just shrugs.

"Don't worry about him, he'll come back, he always does." He says letting out a sigh, as if he was tired of that situation and that makes you frown hard.

Could the man be so problematic that the medical team itself didn't know how to deal with him? Why wasn't he transferred to another institution?

You are thinking about the conversation you had that morning with your colleagues when you hear hurried footsteps on the second floor, several carts moving quickly through the corridors, urgent voices, you don't know what is going on, but it seems worrying. You quickly descend the stairs to discover several nurses entering Joe's room, you hear screams inside and your pulse quickens.

You run and rush into the room, everything is in disarray, the bed lying on the floor, sheets scattered all over the place, the bathroom is open, two colleagues try to restrain Joe, but he has a knife in his hand, no one knows where he got it from. Frightened, you try to enter the bathroom and discover that the walls are all painted with red marker. Fear invades you again fearing that Mac could have escaped again, but no, that look the man gives you is from Joe, he looks at you scared, worried. He throws the knife to the ground and lets the men hold it, this time he doesn't resist. As they pass you your body shudders and your eyes fix on what's written on the walls.

"It's all lies." "Don't trust them." "You have to wake up." "There's nothing wrong with you." "We miss you."

Your heart squeezes without understanding what he means. At what point has the man lost his mind like that to write all that, to try to make an attempt on the lives of people who are only helping him. Your mind blurs for a second and you shake your head trying to come to your senses. When you look up again, your companions are carrying you out of the room, you look back and see that the walls of the bathroom are white.

You no longer hear Joe's screams down the hallway.

You are nervous, your head is a jumble of confused and jumbled thoughts. You've been sitting on one of the gurneys at the nurse's station all afternoon, rubbing your hands together, trying to get your surroundings in order. With the excuse that you were feeling a little tired you have been left there alone, no one has questioned your situation, they have simply left you there.

You keep thinking about everything that has happened in the last few days, you keep remembering Joe's words in his room, his defeated look, the fear, not for him, but directed towards you, as if he was suffering believing he could lose you.

You don't understand anything, why would he be afraid of losing you?

To Be Continued...

Sorry if it's short, but the hot part is approaching and I think the next part will be the last one and I'll do it a little longer.

I hope you liked it!

See you the next story!

#norman reedus #normanreedus #smut one shot #smut #oneshot #macxfemreader #mac red canyon #joe x reader #part2 #macxreader

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elvish-sky · 4 years ago

Text

Look Back {Thorin x Reader}

A.N: A thousand thanks to @guardianofrivendell , who kinda kickstarted this entire fic with their great idea (everyone go check out their work, it’s incredible!). Quick note on character ages- after the five years later bit Sigrid is 20, Otto is 3, and Kieran of course is relative to your age. I honestly really enjoyed writing this, even the parts where it made me cry (a good emotional outlet. Send me more angsty requests!) so I really hope it’s what you wanted, Anon!

Requested by Anon on Tumblr: Thanks for answering my ask about angst! No worries if it'll take a while, so long as you're healthy and not stressing out about it, I will wait cuz your writing is soo worth it)I was wondering if I could request an either thorin x reader(f!human) or kili x Reader(f!human) where the reader is dumped by them and she moves on (like ends up with an elf or another dwarf) and lives a happy life, and thorin or kili regrets having left them and tries to get them back but sees that they lost their One cuz of their mistake and regrets it? (Is that too angsty?? I'm so sorry if it is!)

Word Count: 4,576. The longest thing I’ve ever written is an angst fic. Huh.

Summary: Thorin doesn’t want to push back against the council when they say you cannot be married.

Pairings: Thorin x Reader, OC (I have those now. Huh.) x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Regret, End of Relationship, Sadness, Fluff

Director’s Commentary

****

Look Back

“It is the will of the council that, since Y/N is not a dwarf, the two of you shall not be married, and cannot be together.”

Your head jerked up. You had been expecting pushback, but not a flat-out refusal. Turning your head to look at Thorin, you saw him bow his head in defeat.

“Very well. If it is the will of the council.”

The words hit you in the chest like an arrow. You thought he would fight for you, but no. You weren’t worth it. You rose and left without another word, slipping between the doors as the council watched you go. Balin sighed from his seat midway down the stone table, shaking his head in disappointment at the whole room.

Arriving at your rooms, the ones right next to Thorin’s that you had been so proud of, you started shoving your belongings into a sack, leaving anything that had been given to you by your former love out. You didn’t want any reminders of him, even to see him ever again.

Sadly, your wish to not see him didn’t work, as shown very quickly. Barely three minutes after you had entered your rooms, he came bursting through the carved double doors.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I can’t disobey the council.”

You scoffed, grabbing your few tunics and folding them into the bag.

He continued, “You can stay, we can ask again in a few months, give them more time to warm up to the idea.”

“No. If I’m not worth fighting for now, how do I know I’ll be worth it then?”

You were drawing the string closed on your meager bag of belongings. It was rather sad to think how little you actually owned, versus what had been gifted to you by your former betrothed.

“I’m not going to risk my heart like this, Thorin. I can see that I never actually mattered.”

“Y/N-”

You cut him off.

“You’ve broken promises before, but I never thought you’d break this one, Thorin Oakenshield.”

You had been undoing your courting braid as you spoke, and now flung the bead at him. It fell into his hand, and you didn’t even spare a moment for the pain in his eyes as you slammed the door behind you, leaving a king with everything feeling as if he had just lost the one thing that really mattered.

You arrived at the gates to Erebor to see something rather unexpected. The entire company was gathered there, and you stopped in front of them. They were all gazing at you with unshed tears in their eyes, and looking at them you couldn’t believe how far you all had come from that ragged company running for their lives. It made you sad to think about leaving, when the reminders of what you were giving up were all right there.

“I’m sorry about the council, lass.” Balin was the first to speak. “I tried to sway them, but it just couldn’t be done. I’ll keep trying.”

You mustered a small smile for the old dwarf. “Thank you, Balin, but you don’t have to keep beating a dead horse. We both know nothing will come of it.”

Each member of the company stepped forward and said goodbye, hugging you before moving back to the group. Dwalin settled for briefly squeezing you, before stepping back with a muttered, “I’ll miss yeh, lass.” You saw him surreptitiously wipe a tear from his cheek, and giggled a little.

Nori slipped a few coins into your pocket, as well as a set of lock picks. “You never know when they’ll come in handy.”

Dori was crying as he pressed several bags of tea leaves into your hand. You sniffed them, recognizing the scent of your favorite kind.

Ori was also teary as he quickly wrapped a knitted scarf around your neck. “It gets cold out there,” were his parting words before he retreated to stand next to Dori.

You let out a small laugh as Gloin handed you an ax. “I already have my sword!”

“Yes, lassie, but everyone knows axes are better.” There were gasps of outrage, but you were glad that the dwarf had lightened the mood, even just a little. Besides, the axe truly was gorgeous. A lovely specimen of dwarven craftsmanship, with a beautifully carved handle.

“Is that a dragon?” Gloin nodded, and you marveled at the intricacies.

Bifur approached next, pressing a carving into your hand. You looked at the figure. “That’s me!” He nodded, and you gazed at the detail he had worked in, even the etchings on your sword were visible in the wood.

Bombur handed you a satchel, and you opened it. You gave the dwarf a big hug as you saw the honey-scones packing it to the brim. “My favorite.”

“The recipe is in there too.” You couldn”t resist giving him a second hug of thanks.

Bofur came forward after his brother. “I’d sing you something, but I’m not sure I can do it without crying.” You straightened his hat, which had been set askew by your hug, as he stepped back.

Fili and Kili were last. Fili approached you slowly, but Kili shoved him out of the way and crashed into you. Burying his face in your coat, he whispered, “I really wanted to get to call you Auntie.”

You choked back tears, wrapping your arms around him as his brother joined the hug.

“You’ll write to us?” Fili looked as if he was trying not to cry as well, while Kili had given up and had tears visibly streaming down his cheeks.

“I will.” You broke away with difficulty and gave the group one last look. “Thank you all, so much.” They nodded, and you turned and walked out of the gates, leaving your old love behind.

Thorin watched from the ramparts high above as you left. He knew he had made the right choice for his kingdom, but it hurt. The expression on your face was slowly killing him, and he knew whatever his doubts had been that you had truly loved him. He had loved you too, but he thought he loved his kingdom more. Nevertheless, he found himself hoping that you would turn around, come back, even though he knew he would have to turn you away.

You didn’t turn around.

You didn’t even look back.

*Five Years Later*

You shouldered the door open, arms full of papers. “I’m home!”

“Mama!” A small shape barreled into you and you barely managed to hold onto the papers, handing them to your husband before scooping the three-year-old up.

“Otto! How was your day?” You pressed a kiss to Otto’s forehead before pecking Kieran on the cheek as you brushed by him into the sitting room. There was a fire going, smoke drifting up the chimney and you stood near it, warming hands chilled by the brisk fall air.

“Good! Look what I made!” Otto wiggled out of your grasp and trotted over to the table, where after lots of jumping he finally managed to catch hold of something. He placed it in your lap, and you weren’t sure whether to be mad or touched. You settled for shooting a glare at Kieran before oohing and ahhing over the crudely carved figure.

“It’s you, Mommy! Like the one on the table!”

Examining it closer, you could see something that looked like a sword. It was nowhere near the skill of Bifur’s carving that you still treasured, but it was very sweet nonetheless.

“Wonderful job, darling.”

“Are we going to the market today?” Otto looked up at you with pleading eyes.

“Why?” You shot a suspicious glance at Kieran, who assumed a very innocent expression.

“Because Da said that if we went to the market and got ingredients you would make the honey scones!”

“He did, did he?”

Kieran looked guilty as you frowned at him.

“Don’t worry. Let’s put our boots on and head out!”

Otto jumped with excitement and ran to grab his boots.

You crossed your arms and glared at your husband. “I cannot believe you let him use a knife.”

“He’s three! He’s old enough. Besides, I was watching him the whole time.”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” You threw your hands up in exasperation before kissing him.

“But don’t worry, I still love you.”

“I love you too.” Kieran drew you in for a deeper kiss, and you responded enthusiastically.

“Let’s go!!” Your moment was interrupted by Otto, practically bouncing with excitement by the door. You laughed at him and wrapped your scarf, still holding up five years later, around your neck. Linking arms with Kieran, you giggled as Otto tugged on his hat from his perch on his father’s shoulders, and walked out the door.

The streets of Dale were bustling, people going to the market, or the King’s house just down your street.

Having been a hero of the Battle of the Five Armies, and one of two members of the company who had seen reason (the other being Bilbo, of course), you had a close friendship with King Bard. When you had marched into Dale after leaving Erebor, eyes still swollen with tears, he and his children had taken care of you, and it was because of him that you had met Kieran.

Two months after leaving Erebor, you had been helping Bard train recruits for Dale’s army. Most of the men disliked being trained by a girl, but one had taken your advice and training exactly as he would a man’s. He had grown skilled, and after striking up a friendship had asked to court you. You had said yes, even though you weren’t over Thorin, but had quickly fallen head over heels in love. Kieran was perfect. He respected your fighting skills and didn’t mind your closeness to the king. He was sweet, kind, funny, and in his eyes every was perfect until proven otherwise. He always saw the best in people, never the worst. In other words, he was everything Thorin hadn’t been, and more.

The two of you were married in a ceremony officiated by the King Bard six months after he had asked to court you, a year after leaving Erebor. Fili, Kili, and Balin had attended the ceremony, sneaking away from their royal duties for a day on the pretense of a diplomatic mission. You had kept your promise to write, and although the news of you finding someone else was hard for the two princes, they were happy your heart had started to heal. You had gotten pregnant two months later, news which was received with joy from everyone who heard. Upon reading your letter announcing the news that Fili decided to show him in the middle of a council meeting (later recognized as an extremely bad decision), Kili had let out a whoop of joy, looking guilty when everyone looked at him and promptly throwing the letter into the fire. You had laughed uproariously upon hearing this story from Fili the next time he made it to Dale. The day that Otto was born, your heart healed more. You still remembered the pain you had felt leaving Erebor, of feeling like you did not matter, but it was better now. You had been able to keep in touch with most of the company, all who had been to visit at some point after his birth. You didn’t know if Thorin knew you had moved on or had a child, but you were getting to the point where you could forgive him, just a little, for the past.

Swinging your hand entwined with Kieran’s, you made your way through the market, stopping at all your favorite stalls to chat and pick out baking ingredients. Noticing Sigrid, Bard’s eldest daughter, picking up honey, you talked while inspecting the jars.

“Da’s been taking half a jar to put in his tea, lately. I think he’s craving sugar.”

“More than usual?”

You laughed at Kieran’s comment. “Tell him we’re making honey scones tonight. I’ll bring some up later.”

“He’ll appreciate that, although hopefully, Bain doesn’t eat them all first like he did last time!”

“I wanna eat all the scones with Bain!” Otto was feeling left out from his perch.

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to have the company.” Sigrid giggled at him, passing a flower up to him before waving goodbye.

“She’s a good kid.” Kieran looked after her fondly.

“We’re not that much older than she is!” You pointed this out as you brushed flower petals out of his hair, Otto looking sad as his work was undone.

“Now c’mon. We still need to buy more flour, especially if we’re making scones for Bard!”

You set off again, laughing with your family as you wound through the market. You were in the middle of the artisanal section when a hush fell, the sea of people parting as something made its way through. You kept moving forward, pushing people aside to see what was happening, until you came face to face with Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.

“Y/N.” He was the first to acknowledge you, looking as if it pained him to do so.

“Thorin.” There were gasps at your familiarity, but you didn’t care. You promptly turned around, grabbing your husband’s hand and dragging him, a silent Otto clinging to his shoulders, away.

You didn’t look back this time, either.

“You didn’t tell me she had a child!”

Thorin was back in Erebor, pacing around his chambers as Balin watched. He had been unable to think properly after seeing you in the market, and Fili and Balin had decided that the best course of action, or at least the one least likely to cause a diplomatic incident, was to reschedule the meeting with Bard and bring him back to the Lonely Mountain.

“You never asked.” Balin had resigned himself to having a hard conversation the minute he saw you in the market, he just didn’t know what exactly that conversation would be like. They had managed to keep the two of you apart for the last five years, but it was bound to happen sometime.

“But...she has a child.” Thorin was devastated.

He had found out that you had kept in touch with the company six months after you left, coming across Kili reading a letter from you in the library. The fact that Kili was in the library in the first place was suspicious enough, and his doubts had been confirmed when he snuck up behind his nephew and read the letter over his shoulder.

His gasp of, “She’s courting someone,” had been loud enough to startle half the library. Kili had jumped and tried to hide the parchment, but Thorin had simply crashed down into the chair, head in his hands.

After taking several deep breaths, all the king said was, “She’s moved on. I have to as well,” before rising and brushing himself off, as if to brush the memories of you away. He had seemed fine, but Fili had heard the muttering coming from his room that night, of loss and grief and mistakes.

After that, they had been much better at hiding their correspondence. The brothers had only decided to tell him about your life one more time, a year after you left, saying you had been married. He had taken that news well, it seemed, but Kili had heard the broken sobs coming from the king’s chambers late that night.

“She cannot be happy with that- that man!” Now, Thorin seemed to be taking this news hardest of all.

“She is, lad. We’ve all seen her with them. They’re a family.” Balin was trying to calm him down, but it just wasn’t working.

“But, she’d be happier here. With me!” He was pacing the room now, raking his hands through his hair in greater distress.

“Thorin,” Balin grabbed him, stopping him so that the two were face to face, “you still love her.”

The king staggered back, falling onto his bed. His head was in his hands again, almost mirroring how he had looked with Kili four years ago.

“Lad?”

“Leave.”

The one word was whispered, quieter than Balin had ever heard his king. He left, closing the door and signaling to the guard outside that the king was not to be disturbed.

The next morning, Thorin walked out of his rooms with an air of purpose about him. He was wearing an old cloak, to not be recognized as the king. Fili and Kili still managed to notice the distinct gait of their uncle and stopped him in the halls right near the gate.

“Where are you going?” Kili looked concerned.

“Balin was right last night. I am still in love with Y/N, so I’m going to bring her back.”

The identical looks of shock on his nephew’s face would have been hilarious in other circumstances.

“You’re still in love with Y/N?!”

“Keep up, Kili!” Fili smacked his brother before continuing.

“Uncle, I hate to say this, but remember how she looked at you yesterday? I don’t think she’ll be happy to see you.”

Kili nodded at his brother’s words. “Besides, you’re the king. How are you going to convince the council when you failed five years ago?”

Thorin looked a little surprised at that, as if he hadn’t quite thought that far ahead, but shook it off. “She will be happy to see me this time. I’m going to Dale.”

“Uncle, no!” Kili tried to block his way, but Thorin shoved past him, disappearing quickly.

“Follow him to Dale, I’ll tell Balin and the rest of the company.” Fili brushed his brother off and turned to go back to the royal wing as Kili disappeared after their uncle.

You were making your way through the twisting streets of Dale, delivering scones to friends as you went. You had stopped at the market to give some to the honey-vendor, who always appreciated them, before turning back the direction you came. You stopped back home to pick up the basket you had made for Bard, walking in on Kieran and Otto stuffing their faces with scones and looking incredibly guilty, before continuing the walk up the hill. You were ushered in by Hakon, as usual (Bard didn’t like keeping servants, he said it made him feel “stuffy,” but a king was afforded certain privileges), and you gave him a grateful smile as he took your heavy scarf to hang up.

“I have scones!” You entered Bard’s office, plopping the basket on his desk from which he immediately grabbed one.

“Delicious.”

You smiled at his praise, laughing as Bain burst through the doorway behind you.

“Did I hear scones?” He quickly dove for the basket, grabbing two.

“One for each hand!” He tried to justify this before shrugging and taking a bite, giving you a thumbs up.

“I’ve got to go home, make sure Kieran and Otto aren’t in a food coma, but I’m glad you like them!”

The king and his son nodded at you, waving goodbye as their mouths were still stuffed with a scone.

“And save some for the girls!” You left with that, laughing at their sad faces.

It was pleasant out, the sort of fall day you looked forward to, so you decided that Kieran and Otto could spare you for a little while, just long enough for you to take a walk on the walls of the city.

The view of the mountain was gorgeous from here. When you had first left, you had spent hours staring, wondering if you had made a mistake by leaving. Now, you just liked to appreciate the view.

“Want to come back?”

You jumped, spinning to see Thorin standing behind you. You hadn’t really paused to look at him the day before, but now you noticed he looked different. Not bad, but it didn’t look as if he’d found happiness the way you had.

He stepped forward. “Y/N. I’ve come to ask you to rejoin me in the mountain.”

Your jaw dropped. “What? Do you want me to move in with my family? That seems like a bad idea.”

“No, Y/N,” he took your hand and you were too surprised to remove it from his grasp, “I want you to be my queen.”

You laughed and jerked your hand away. It wasn’t a sound of amusement, no. It sounded empty.

Hollow.

“We saw how well that went last time.”

“No, Y/N. This time I mean it. Come to Erebor.”

“I’m happy here, Thorin. I have a husband and a child.”

“Your child can come too, and I’m sure I can do much better for you than that man!”

Your cheeks reddened with anger as you balled up your fists, trying to restrain yourself. “I’m happy here, Thorin! I don’t need you to take me to Erebor when I have everything I could possibly want already!”

He looked as if you had physically hit him.

“Y/N, you deserve more than this, though! The council won’t be any trouble this time.”

“And you think you’re the one who can give me what I deserve?” You laughed again, the hollow sound caught by the wind.

“No, dwarf. I have everything I deserve right here and I’m not going to let you ruin it. This is my happiness, and I will be damned if I let you take that away!”

“Y/N-”

“No. I wasn’t worth fighting for then, I know I won’t be worth it now.”

“But I love you, Y/N.”

“And I loved you, once. But you’re too late.”

He watched as you walked away for the third time, knowing that this was the last.

You didn’t look back.

Kieran knew something was wrong the minute you walked through the door.

“Otto, say bye-bye to Mama and get ready to go with Sigrid!” He strode over to you and hugged you quickly before pulling away.

“Sigrid’s going to take Otto for a few hours.”

“Thank you, Sigrid.” You mustered a smile for her as she tugged her boots back on.

“Of course! C’mon Otto, Bain’s waiting!” She giggled as the child trotted out of his room, looking squishy and adorable in his winter clothes.

He ran over to you and you bent down and hugged him.

“I love you, Mama!”

You kissed his forehead before ushering him to Kieran, who got the same treatment before Otto trotted over to Sigrid and grabbed her hand.

“Bye Y/N! Bye Kieran!” You lifted a hand in farewell as they left, waiting for the door to close behind them before collapsing into Kieran’s arms.

He immediately started to murmur to you, whispering reassurances in your ear as he guided you to sit next to him. He waited for your sobs to fade before speaking.

“What happened?”

“I went for a- a walk on the walls and I ran into Th- Thorin,” you choked out, voice breaking when you said his name.

You could see Kieran’s face soften in understanding.

“Did he harm you?”

You shook your head. “He wanted me to marry him. He…” you hesitated as you saw Kieran’s eyes spark with anger, but continued.

“He said you weren’t good enough for me. I told him you were better than I deserved.”

His eyes lightened again and he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“Do you need to talk it out?” That was one of the things you loved about Kieran, he didn’t offer solutions or try to fix all your problems, he just listened. He knew that when you had an issue, you just wanted someone to talk to, not to come up with ideas but just to support you.

You nodded. “I just, I felt so bad for him. And I know I shouldn’t, but he just seems so lonely.”

“Do you want to go back? He’s right, you deserve more than me.”

Your head snapped up. “No! Kieran, why would you think that? I’m happy here. I have the perfect husband and a wonderful child, and I wouldn’t trade any of that for the world.”

He still looked doubtful.

“Kieran, he broke my heart five years ago, and yes, I was in love with him then, but you picked up the broken pieces and helped me heal. I’d never leave you.”

You kissed him on the lips this time, trying to convey just how much he meant to you. “I love you,” you whispered, pulling away.

“I love you too.” He pulled you back in for another kiss. When you broke apart you lay your head on his chest as he moved to lay down.

“Let’s take advantage of the extra rest before Otto gets back.”

You laughed at him and felt the rumble of his chest as his breaths deepened, watching him fall asleep. As you faded into unconsciousness, you couldn’t help but think that after all you’d been through, you were so unbelievably lucky to have found Kieran.

Thorin had never understood what people meant when they called Erebor The Lonely Mountain. Now, walking up to the gates alone, he got it. Something was missing, something that he’d never noticed before but now felt the absence of more keenly than ever. He couldn’t believe that he had failed to win you back. He hadn’t realized just how much he had hurt you five years ago, but the pain in your eyes had made it very clear.

“I’m sorry, Uncle.” Kili appeared next to him as he walked up to the gates.

Thorin ignored him, ignored the salutes and waves he got from his subjects as he made a beeline for his rooms, Kili dashing around in his wake to fix the wounded pride of every dwarf he ignored.

Once Thorin made it to his rooms he locked the door behind him, taking slight delight even through his misery at the thump meaning Kili had crashed into it, before collapsing in his chair.

He still was in shock. No, not shock, he was devastated. It had never occurred to him that you would be happy in Dale, wouldn’t want to rule a kingdom. He had thought that he wasn’t in love with you for the better part of five years, and once he realized he still was he hadn’t thought you wouldn’t feel the same.

A knock sounded at the door. “Please let us in, Uncle.”

Thorin sighed and went to undo the bolts.

Fili and Kili entered, both looking much more subdued than usual. Fili took in how Thorin’s coat was thrown on the floor, his boots tossed haphazardly in each direction and sighed.

“What do you need?” Despite knowing how Thorin had hurt you, Kili couldn’t help but feel bad for his uncle. He had never seen Thorin like this. He looked broken.

“I need to be alone.”

His nephews nodded, actually obeying him for once, and slipped out the door.

Thorin was again left alone with his thoughts. Somehow, he had realized that you had been his One. That was why he had said out to make things better. But he had failed. He had lost his One, the only person who he could ever love didn’t love him back.

Thorin buried his head in his hands, letting out a broken sob. For the fourth time in his life, he had failed. He was too late.

Everything tag <3: @entishramblings @itgetsatadhazy @anjhope1 @boyruins

Thorin tag <3: @lathalea

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palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

Note

I’m on the Dabi side of Tumblr again might as well contribute to it with my filthy mind! Let’s give that burnt sexy bastard some nsfw head cannons of him having a thicc s/o that throws back the bullshit he gives her and also edges him before he loses it on her. Give him a taste of his own medicine 😌

ooooh. hi. you’re speaking my language, nonnie.

one disgruntled villain, extra crispy & hold the sauce, coming right up

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, handjobs, edging, overstimulation, derogatory language, degradation, femdom

You’ve been meaning to fix that lock

Who are you kidding?

Even if you fixed it, he’d still find a way to get in

His unnaturally warm hands are cupping and pressing at your curves

Dipping into soft skin and tweaking, pinching, pulling

As he passes, his staples snag on your shirt and you turn, already grumbling

“Stop. That’ll be the fifth one you’ve fucked up this month.”

“Shut it,” he groans, rutting his clothed hips against your ass, hissing as your thighs split for him, ripe and wanting

You wriggle out from under his arms, sealing your tacky, slicked, legs together. Denying him and ignoring the throb that your pussy makes when you catch sight of his eyes

They’re so goddamn pretty

You hate it

Yeah, you hate, hate, hate that cerulean

It’s otherworldly, it’s flickering, sharp, unrelenting and you despise the power those haunting irises grant him

The power they grant him over you

God, even now, you can’t help but reach for him

Your fingers tangle in the lapels of his tattered jacket

Yanking him to your parted mouth

His mismatched lips drag and scrape and you suck hungrily at the battered flesh

“You’re not supposed to be here, Dabi. I told you to stop doing this. I told you I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

“You- mmm- fuck you. What a pretty little liar you are. You like it. You like that I wanna’ touch you. That I can’t get enough of this...fuck–’

‘This juicy skin of yours. You’re so fucking soft and you’re such a slut for me. I bet if I tweaked your clit, you’d cum all over my hand. Yeah, you fucking like this. Why lie?”

Your teeth nip at his broken, burnt, skin and he grunts, his hands bracketing around your hips, kneading the opulent flesh as he gets a good purchase, tumbling you forward

Perched on his lap, your hips automatically grind down, tucking that hardness you find against your panties, passing the chilly, dampened, fabric along your clit

“Look at you,” Dabi taunts, leaning away from your shining lips, his teeth gleaming. “Such a hot little bitch. Just say you want my cock, doll. I might– ah. Oh– you fucking little cunt. Don’t– mmm–”

Your fingers have skillfully unhooked that double pronged belt he likes to wear and your hand is already slinking downward, under the elastic of his boxers, squeezing the scalding heat of his cock

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t quite catch that last thing you said,” you scoff, watching as his face contorts into a snarl, his hips bucking into your palm

“Awe, and I thought I was the slut? But wait, what’s this...”

You slide the top of his pants down, lifting the heavy length of him free, admiring how the moonlight catches against his flushed cock

The gleam of his piercings are brightened by the precum that you’ve extracted from his reddened tip

It slips down the steps of his Jacob’s ladder, pausing on each rung before gliding to the next, helped along by your bobbing hand

You lick your lips at the sight of him and you arch a brow at his parted mouth and flushed face

“Look at that,” you breathe, sumptuous thighs lifting from him. “Does that feel good? Do you like when I stroke your needy dick? Hmm? Come on, Dabi. Talk to me. It’s not like you to be at a loss for words. To be so fucking speechless.”

He growls when you lean closer, your lips tracing along the outline of his upper ear, tongue lapping along the metal he’s pierced into his mottled skin

“Bitch,” he flings, his voice catching in his throat. “You’re gonna regret this. When I– ooh. Fuck, fuck. Do that again. You– ah– yesss.”

Your fingernail has wiggled under the curve of his Prince Albert ball and you give the warm metal a sharp jerk

Dabi’s hips follow the movement and a fresh line of precum bubbles from his slit

It’s hot, too hot

But you’re used to these overheated states of his and you only let out a tiny hiss as it scalds the top of your hand, gooey and trailing

Using the extra lubrication he’s so generously provided, you return to those loose, lazy, not enough, tugs. Ignoring his sputtering indignation

“No. Fucking– No, (Y/N). That’s not...goddamn it...harder. Give me more, you selfish...fucking...”

“What?” you question, nuzzling your nose against the dip of his shoulder, lapping at the tiny expanse of clean, unburnt, skin you find, nestled under his clothes

“Whattt,” he mocks, head turning toward yours, butting against your temple and knocking you off his saliva dampened skin. “Stop acting fucking dumb. What a joke. I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re playing at. Trying to...trying...to...mmm...”

Your fingers are clutching at the base of his tip, squeezing until he’s a dark, swollen, red

Dabi’s head falls back and his booted feet brace into your mattress, trying to shove himself into that tight fist you’ve made

“Uh-uh. Not so fast,” you smirk, pleased that you’ve worked him into this bristling desperation. “I thought you wanted it a little harder? I’m only trying to give you what you want. After all, I’m just a dumb little slut, right? So whadda’ I know? If you’re wanting something a bit more specific, it looks like you better fucking ask, huh?”

“Fucking bitch. You fucking– I–I’ll make you wish you’d never done this. I’ll break you for this. Smash you to bits, like the trash you are. Ohh– fuck, doll. That’s it. That’s it. Yes. Such a good slut. My fucking slut. God, babe. Fuck, yes.”

Your teeth sink into the shivering bob of his neck and your hand has picked up the pace, slicking over his straining cock until all you can hear is his hitched breathing and the squelching pounding you’re exerting over him

He’s close

You know him well enough to feel that searing rise and throb of his length

He’s just about...yes...there

Once that heat hits the middle of your palm, you release him, scooting away from his writhing and arching form

Denying him that blaze of release

Oh, he lets out the most delicious, hurling, gasps for you

His cock, now neglected and so, so hard, fumbles out a tiny, premature, discharge of cum

It’s milky white and it stains those dark pants of his with a splattering of blank color

Dabi’s nose is winkled, a pale speck against the pink of his flushed skin

You bite your lip and wait, curling your legs, ignoring the quiver of your plush skin and lowering a hand to your soaking panties, edging the fabric aside to rub, easing that burn within you

His eyes flash open and they fix you with a rough glare as a wicked grin spreads his lips, cracking at those first few staples, revealing the puffy pink flesh that lies beneath

“Oh, doll,” he whispers, hands already busy, shedding his jacket and shirt

The planes of his burn riddled skin are finally bared to you and suck in a low breath

Yes. This is always your favorite part of the show

When he strips himself down, revealing calloused patches and jagged cuts

And now, thanks to your efforts, he looks more unhinged than usual

His eyes wide, that leering grin stretching as he looks you over

“You’ve done it now, hmm?” Dabi continues, kicking off his boots and pants

His hands are on you, seconds later, cupping, grabbing, sulking in your bounty

He’s not going to be gentle

You’ll likely be covered in small bites and burns for days, fuck, weeks, to come

But, oh, this is gonna be fun

Notes: <(￣︶￣)>

#asks #answered asks #pal muses #on dabi and his bad attitude #dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #bnha smut #tw: degradation #tw: edging #tw: overstimulation

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beautifulletdownfics · 4 years ago

Text

The Nearness of You - A Harry Styles One Shot

A friends to lovers one shot feat. birthdays, pining and stolen purses.

Hello, please enjoy this fever dream fic that came to me a week ago and is now somehow 13.5k and gracing your eyeballs. I’ve never written a one-shot of this nature before and it was quite a refreshing distraction from my usual, long-form fics. Thank you to Anne @oh-honey-styles for the encouragement (bullying) and for posting the pic that inspired it all. To everyone else, read on x katey *Because this is quite lengthy, I’d recommend opening in a browser because the Tumblr app can be glitchy*

My masterlist Chat to me here

“When you're in my arms And I feel you so close to me All my wildest dreams came true” The Nearness of You, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

You love the cold.

London in February isn't everybody's cup of tea, but you feel positively giddy walking down the icy Soho street in your new & Other Stories snow boots. The hard, black leather is already making your toes ache, and they're rubbing against the heel of your left foot, but they'll stretch to size, and you can tell these are going to be Your Signature Boots. The wind whips against your cheeks, red flushing them as you cross the laneway and push open the door to the chic little restaurant you've followed on Instagram for years but never had an excuse to try. Figures Harry chose it for tonight. Sometimes you wondered if the coincidences were a little too … Coincidental.

"Hi," you smile brightly to the maître d', "I'm uh … I'm here for the birthday? For Harry?"

Do I need to say his surname? You think to yourself.

"Can I have your name, please?" The suited man pulls a piece of paper out of the reservations book and waits for you to identify yourself. Your chest is rattling from the cold and the flurry of nerves you're all too familiar with ignoring.

"Y/N," you say your full name, taking in the dark floor of the restaurant, the flickering candles on the tables and lining the bar that takes up the entire left side of the room. The whole place is beautiful, just like you've double-tapped online; all deep reds and burgundies, vintage posters, and mismatched, dark wooden furniture. A jazz record plays just loudly enough to fuse the conversations at all the tables into one comfortable sound. It would make for a sexy place for a date, you decide, stolen touches under the table would feel thrilling and seductive.

The maître d' nods, you're on the list, "Back in the private dining room," he says, "Follow me this way."

You push your evening bag further up your shoulder and walk half the length of the bar, your eyes adjusting to the darkness. You catch the bartender watching you as you go, he's cute, and you give him an awkward little wave before calling out ahead of you.

"Sorry, excuse me," you get the attention of the man leading you through, "Can you point me to where I need to go? I'm going to get a drink to take in first if that's okay?"

"Just there," he points to the doorway at the back, next to the kitchen pass, "The curtain on the right."

Thanking him, you watch as he walks back to his station by the front door. You turn to the bar and rest your hands on the cool wood. They've stuck the pages together of old Little Golden Books for the drink menus, but you'll be ordering what you always get on birthdays, so don't take in the beverage options as you flip through The Tawny Scrawny Lion. You remember it from when you were a kid.

The bartender moves to stand in front of you, a gleam in his eyes and flirtatious smirk on his face, "Pretty good read, that one. You have to order a drink though, this isn't a library."

You laugh, he's laying it on a bit thick but probably just after the tip, "I was more a The Poky Little Puppy sort of girl."

He gives you a grin of approval, flipping a napkin up onto the bar in front of you, "What can I make for you?"

"I'll have two Old Fashioneds, please," you lean forward onto your elbows to give your feet a rest as he pulls up a second napkin and then two crystal, lowball glasses. "They're pretty," you comment without thinking.

"It's all about the glass," he confirms quickly, dropping brown sugar cubes into each one and then shaking bitters on top. Your eyes focus on the way the squares dissolve and fall in on themselves as he speaks again, "I'm Jack."

"Y/N," you give your name for the second time, throwing a brief smile his way, "I've never actually watched someone make these before."

Jack pauses and gives you a teasing look, "Do you want me to stop so you can get something to write this all down?"

You laugh and roll your eyes at him as he goes back to making the drinks. You're stalling. You know when you go through the curtain in the back there'll be a dozen people who're all dressed nicer than you, with more impressive jobs than you, who have funnier, more outrageous stories about the birthday boy than you. You'll need to stand awkwardly in the doorway for a few moments too long before Harry notices you, and then your greeting will be watched by all his cool, London friends.

You know better than to let any of that dull your shine—you really do—but you've had a rough few months, and if you're honest, you'd like your first time seeing Harry since the summer to be a little more low-key than this. So that's why you're wearing the new boots that hurt and might not suit the dress code because they're new and you feel good wearing them with this outfit. It feels a little special to be out celebrating Harry's (belated) birthday in a semi-new ensemble. You managed to fluke getting your hair and makeup just right, and yes, your legs do look pretty fantastic in these tights with the short, roll neck, knit dress, thank you very much.

"Here you go," Jack brings your attention back to him, you can smell the citrus twist in front of you, and the crystal glass deflects the light from the candles, "Can I put this on a tab for you? You're with the birthday?"

"I'll pay," you tell him, already digging for your card and holding it out to him.

"Oi!" You hear a very familiar voice call out from the far end of the bar, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you shiver, "What're you payin' for? What's she—don't take her money!"

You keep your arm out steadily to Jack and raise your eyebrows at him, "Take it," you urge him quickly, feeling him pluck it from your fingers just as you turn towards the voice you know so well.

That familiar Tom Ford cologne hits your nose just as Harry hurries up and deposits himself heavily against the bar, right up in your personal space. His broad frame blocks out the room to you, and he's lit softly in the dim light and looking radiant from within, as per usual. He's got his crazy eyes out—accusing you—and his eyebrows are pinched together slightly, but he looks good. Happy. Rested. Pleased to see you.

Harry's always pleased to see everyone, you tell yourself, Hold it together.

He pulls you into his chest for a hug. Your cheek presses just below his pecs, and you feel the way he's grown more defined since you last saw him. The material of his t-shirt is soft and smells clean. It's a tight squeeze he gives you, one that you resist reading into. Was it healthy for there to be so much comfort in a simple hug? Was your whole body allowed to tingle and fizz from the embrace of a friend? Was it pathetic to have been carrying around in your ribcage the same crush from when you were thirteen?

Affirmative. Without a doubt. Yes.

You haven't seen Harry since mid-September, the last time he was in London. Well, the last time he was in London and had time to see you. You're sure there were probably business trips, Christmas definitely. And going off Instagram, you think he might've flown into Manchester and spent a long weekend with Anne back in October, but if it was any of your business, it would've been your business. You needed to be grateful simply for what you got; intermittent texts about books he'd read or maybe a happy drunk voicemail if he thought of you at the right time. He sent an email at Christmas with a charitable contribution in your name instead of a gift.

"It's so good to see you," Harry says as he pulls away, all crinkled eyes and broad smiles. You don't know your grin has launched his heart into space and that despite having just gone to the bathroom, Harry feels due for a nervous wee. He thinks you look fucking gorgeous tonight. Knowing you've done your hair, and eyeliner, and picked that dress to come out and celebrate his birthday … It sends a jolt of desire straight to his groin—beauty blooms in front of his eyes in you.

Tell her, you idiot. Twenty-seven could be the year.

"Hi," you chirp at him happily and pick up one of the glasses in front of you, "I got you a drink."

Harry watches you fondly and then dramatically looks off to the side, lets out a little huff, "Typical Y/N, buying her own drink … You really think I wouldn't have one here for you?"

Nevertheless, he says a quiet thank you, takes the glass from you and deliberately sniffs it as if he's not sure what's inside or if he'll like it. You smack his arm lightly at the show and pick up your own glass, chinking it to the side of his and watching him over the rim as you both take your first sips. The familiar taste and view fill your tummy with gurgling happiness that sits high in your chest. He's dressed almost exactly how you expected him to be—smart, high-waisted dress pants and a printed t-shirt. You're glad you didn't go too formal, the restaurant is nice, but it's not Hatted or anything, not like the place he took you in LA that time, where you felt like the biggest idiot in the world for not realising beforehand, was properly fancy.

"Fuckin' delicious," he rumbles slowly, bringing you back to the cocktail, "A classic."

"Happy birthday," you tell Harry sweetly, thankful for what's likely to be your only quiet moment with him all night, "Sorry I couldn't make it to the LA party."

"Ah," Harry waves you off, "Your job's much too important here."

He means it. Harry's beyond proud of you. He's always telling people you work for the NHS, saving lives and keeping the country going. The party in LA was thrown together by some people at the last minute, and even though most of the friends he left in the backroom when he went to find the bathrooms a few moments ago were able to fly across for it, Harry's not the least bit put out by you not being able to. Would've been a big trip for you to do on your own and he knew there's no way you'd miss his London celebration. And you sent over a gift, which shouldn't have surprised him. His actual birthday was spent in LA, and that morning a parcel arrived from you—two new notebooks and a novel Harry read the back of and instantly knew he would love. It's what he read on the flight home to the UK.

Trust you to want him to have the gift on his birthday—go to all that trouble of packaging it and sending it over—when you were going to see him in London ten days later anyway. Harry could do worse than a friend like you.

"I just need a bit more notice than four da—

—Please," Harry's shaking his head at you, hating watching you apologise for something he really doesn't care about. "I'm glad you're here tonight," he tells you genuinely, fingers reaching out to brush your bangs away from your eyebrow briefly and—did the room just spin around you?—get a glimpse of the bronze sheen over your eyelids, "I haven't seen your new hair in person, looks lovely."

Lovely? he scolds himself, Lovely is a nice jam scone, lovely is a hug from mum …

"Oh," you coo, automatically sending your own fingers up to where Harry's had just been to reposition your newish bangs, "Thanks, still getting used to it, wanted to do it forever but wasn't brave enough to I guess."

"I like your natural hair colour, too," he continues slowly, eyes running over your whole head, "I mean, I loved how it used to be … But I like this a lot."

Shit, Harry's already failing to adhere to the strict series of pep talks he's given himself over the last couple of days. He's babbling, and he's probably just made you think he's not liked how you've had your hair for the previous twelve years. Is he buzzed from the cocktail or from the way your cheeks have gone a little pink since he touched you? His compliment made you squirm, and Harry wants to do it again and again until what he's feeling makes sense.

"Just, you know, feels like a throwback to the old days," he mumbles through another sip of the cocktail you both love, a glint appears in his eyes as he continues, "When you had Barbie overalls and would spend half a day plaiting your whole head in those tiny little rat tails."

Your mouth opens into a horrified O, and you let out a single laugh, "Rat tails? They were cool. And I was eleven when we met, I'd definitely already outgrown the Barbie overalls."

"Whatever you say," Harry smirks at you, signature dimples appearing on his cheeks, "I just remember those little beads from the ends of them ending up all over the bottom of the pool."

You smile at the memory. You remember duck diving with Gemma to collect all the beads so they could be put back into your hair the next day. Nearly drowning from laughing so hard at Harry and the other boys trying to stand on your backs in the water. Summers with Harry were always spent laughing. The local pool and skate park saw all your adventures. When Harry's dad moved in next door to your family after his parent's divorce, you and your brother hung off the fence, peering into the backyard to see if any toys or a trampoline might appear signally new kids next door. They didn't, and it wasn't until the summer when Harry and Gemma arrived for their holidays that you jumped the fence with ice lollies and offered yourself up as a new friend.

"Simpler times," you muse to yourself, looking up and catching the perplexed look Harry was giving you, "Spaced out a bit, sorry."

"I've missed my little weirdo," he grins at you affectionately, angling a little closer and levelling his head down to yours as he bit his lip and frowned, "Are you doing alright though?"

You let out a little sigh and avert your eyes to where Jack, the bartender, is busy making trays of drinks for different tables. Harry observes you carefully, a twinge of guilt forms for causing the sad look that's come over your face, but also for not having asked the question weeks ago. Gemma told him at Christmas, an off-handed comment about you being newly single. When he heard the evil gremlin in him was fucking relieved, just like he always was.

"I'm fine," you try a smile out and pull your lips up higher when you don't think Harry buys it, "Better. Had my crisis haircut and drank myself to tears with my work friends. Just a normal break up, really. M'getting used to them at this point."

A small, white lie.

Each breakup bruises you deeply. Talking about it afterwards fills you with a shame that makes you feel naked, like everyone else can see what's wrong with you but you. As though it's obvious why nobody's picked you yet. You don't ever want to talk about it afterwards, (especially not with Harry) don't want to draw attention to it. Prefer to let the disappointment and loneliness pool in your tummy and sit there heavily, weighing you down, waiting for the One Day someone spectacular might come along and be buoyant enough to float away with you.

You're looking for your forever. You want the cheesy romance, and the love, and marriage, and kids, and the whole stupid thing. You want to be wanted and loved and cherished. That's what you're ready for. You just can't find anyone who's ready for that with you. So, you date, have mediocre boyfriends who rarely make it to the first anniversary, then pick up the pieces and try again.

Wash, rinse, repeat.

"Well," Harry swallows, reaches out for your arm to make sure you look at him, "You look beautiful tonight. And it's his loss, he's clearly a monumental idiot."

You give Harry a noncommittal hum in response. Just as you're about to say something you shouldn't—get into details you bet Harry really isn't that interested in knowing—you catch the movement of someone appearing from the doorway behind Harry and then approaching you both.

"Harry, mate," you don't know the guy who's recognised Harry's back and is calling out for his attention now, "Thought you might've fallen in."

Harry snaps around quickly to the voice, blocking your view. You take another sip of your drink and pull in a deep breath. Not fitting into any of Harry' groups socially has its downfalls. If his sister wasn't around, you tended to have to make friends at anything Harry invites you to. You're not part of his Holmes Chapel crew or his LA friends, and you definitely don't fit into the London group. Over the years there have been faces you've come to find familiar, but you're still the singular, hanger-on friend from Harry's second childhood home.

Peering around Harry's shoulder, you catch the end of a look between the two guys you think alludes to this new friend gauging whether Harry needs rescuing from you. You briefly wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. You know that look well.

"Aiden, this is Y/N," Harry raises his arm and angles to pull you around in front of him.

You hold up your drink, awkwardly, "Hi."

Aiden gives you a hesitant smile, "Hello," then he raises his eyebrows at Harry, "Harry, you coming back in, mate?"

Harry bites his lip and chuckles, reading the look on his friend's face, "You're a prick, I don't need saving. Known Y/N since I was twelve, we were just catching up."

You feel yourself go bright red, and you're thankful for the forgiving lighting. This isn't the first time this exact scenario has happened to you. You've been on the receiving end of that uneasy look before—his friends checking if the girl who isn't there with anyone else is supposed to be there at all. Backstage at the O2, a member of Harry's security once hauled you to the tour manager's office to check your VIP credentials were legitimate. You'll take that story with you to the grave.

Aiden deflates slightly and waves a hand your way, "Shit, sorry, thought he'd been cornered by a fan again … I mean, a pretty fan to say the least but …" he coughs into his hand when Harry gives him a glare you don't see, "Great to meet you."

"No worries," you wave it off like it's nothing. The truth is your brain has short-circuited at Harry's palm resting on the small of your back, he's not moved it from when he first brought you forward. Friendly touches weren't strange between you, but this lingering, comforting hand is burning a hole in you tonight. You haven't been out and had anyone touch you since your breakup, and Harry is setting off all you nerve endings. You tilt your weight onto your other foot to pull back from him slightly, but Harry's hand travels with you. "We should go back, I might use the loo first though, is it that way?"

Harry watches you point in the direction of the bathroom, you're flustered and he really wishes he could tell Aiden to buzz off so he could just take another few minutes with you. Brief you on who was in the room you were about to go into. You wouldn't know any of them, and Harry always appreciated that you came to things on your own, particularly when you wouldn't know anyone aside from him once you got there. He should have invited his sister so you'd have a buddy. Or told you to bring a friend. Not a boyfriend, though.

He watches you take the final drag from your drink and put the glass down on top of the bar, "Thanks Jack, t' was dee-lish," you catch the attention of the bartender, throwing him a beaming grin. And Harry watches the way the guy's features light up at being called on by you. Envy rumbles in Harry's gut, he recognises the dumb smile and dopey nod of Barman Jack's head. Has felt it a hundred times himself when he's been on the receiving end of your quirky humour.

You walk away, and Harry feels Aiden watching him, "She's fit," he comments, trying to get a rise out of Harry, reading the room perfectly.

"Fuck you," Harry grunts at him.

Harry sits opposite you at the long table in the private dining room.

You nurse a glass of rosé and eat the food slowly, savouring it. You deliberated over the menu for a long time before settling on what to order, you've seen photos of most of the dishes online, but there were several new ones too. Harry goes off your recommendations but spends a lot of the dinner talking to the people sitting beside him. He knows if he tried talking to you right now, he'd just get lost in you, which is both rude for a birthday party and bound to be too conspicuous.

You insert yourself into a conversation with the girls sitting next to you and pretend you're good at making friends. They spend most of the meal talking about something that was on the telly the night before. You were on shift so missed it, but pretend to be interested or like you might've seen it—anything to not stick out like a sore thumb.

Harry watches you out the corner of his eye the whole time. You've shrugged off your jacket, and he recognises the gold necklace you've got around the collar of your dress, sitting over the black fabric on your chest. He's pretty sure it was a gift from Gemma a few years ago, you wear it all the time. Harry makes a note to get you something that compliments it for your birthday coming up. You're chatting to one of his mate's girlfriends and Lisa who's been on his publicity team for years. Those would've been the two he'd have introduced you to first as well. He can't stop watching the way your lips turn up every time something funny is said, or one of the girls makes eye contact with you. Watching you try with his other friends always makes Harry feel warm and giddy for some reason.

Fuck, he's missed you. And he berates himself for the fact he never seems to remember that until he sees you again. (It's strategic usually, his heart doesn't take your company well when he knows you're going home to someone else) You're so engaging and kind and unintentionally charming, and you always have time for him. Harry knows he's not an easy human to be friends with; he constantly ducks in and out and is never around for the big things, let alone being available to call on a random day to just hang out with. The friendship is always on his terms, and he knows it makes him a selfish prick. You definitely could've done with a call a couple of months back when you had your heart broken. Like always, he missed it, and by the time he was sending you a message about an episode of Midsomer Murders, he felt as though the moment to console you had passed, and Harry didn't want to draw attention to the fact he wasn't around for it.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?" His head snaps back around to the person next to him, thoughts still on you across the table. He agrees with whatever was said and does his best to catch up.

Harry's got to stop thinking about how you're single at the moment. He really does.

A few hours later, it's the girl sitting to your left, Lisa, who first mentions the idea of kicking on.

It's after dessert—after everyone sang happy birthday to Harry over a round of espresso martinis—and you're starting to think that if you leave now, you'll be home before midnight, which means the tube won't be too deserted to feel safe. You're also at a comfortable place to wake up without a hangover in the morning. Two cocktails and a glass of wine over dinner, because any more and you're scared you could say something stupid to the wrong (right) person.

Harry's face lights up, and he looks around the room, eager at the idea of going to a bar or two for more drinks. He's not been out in London for the longest time, and he's happily buzzed enough to not be too worried about running into people. Feels like this group of friends have gelled well together. How often does he get to have a night like this in London? Hardly ever.

"Yeah, let me sort out the tab and then we're good to go," Harry says, pushing his seat back from the table and standing up, his hands hunting his pockets for his wallet and phone, "I'll be right back."

When he goes, you decide now's as good a time as any to split. You pull your coat on and say goodbye to the friends you made over the meal. Lisa gives you her business cards as if speaking to you had been part of her job, you slip it straight into your coat pocket and can already picture it at the bottom of the garbage in your kitchen. You revisit the bathrooms, and when you come back out into the main restaurant area, Harry's still leaning against the front desk, chatting to the maître d' from earlier.

He feels your small hand land on his back and jolts upright at the contact, your gentle voice calling his name softly, "Harry, I'm going to head home."

He spins around, and you catch the fall of his face, "What? No … No. You're the one I want to hang out with the most," his bottom lip juts out and his brows furrow. "Y/N."

"Thanks a fuckin' lot, mate," you hear a male voice laugh at your back, they slip behind you and out into the chilly air, and Harry flips them the bird. You were pushed closer into his chest as they jostled past and he steadied you with his arms latched onto your forearms. Still watching outside, you see a cigarette lighter flare-up on the footpath and the end of an orange butt glow spectacularly in the night. When you glance back at Harry, he's not looking happy.

"Don't pout," you tell him lightly, you reach up and press the skin taut between his eyes smooth again, "Can't wrinkle that rockstar face of yours."

His face lights up, and his skin heats where you made contact, "You can't go yet."

"Harry," your features tangle into something like a grimace, "You'll have a better time without me. Everyone seems to be pretty tight—"

—Y/N," he gives you a final, pleading look, "Please come."

You make out like you're stomping your foot in defiance, "Fine."

"Score!" Harry cheers under his breath, shrugging his jacket up over his shoulders and saying a final round of thank yous to the staff. When you're out on the street at Harry's side somebody mentions the name of the next place and points the direction of it, Harry places a hand on your shoulder as you start to walk and leans down to your ear, "I just have one condition for you coming."

You pull back and look at him, "I don't think you get conditions when you've begged me to be here."

"A birthday condition then," he edits, pressing his lips together and smiling at you with his eyes, "You have to promise to do what I say before I ask it."

You narrow your eyes at him, "I suppose you only turn twenty-seven once. You can have a single wish from me."

Harry laughs and slips his fingers under the strap of your evening bag, "Give me this."

You think briefly he means to carry it for you, which is a strange thing for Harry to request. But then he unzips it in front of you and starts rifling around inside it, slipping your phone under his arm so he can move around the lipstick and tissues and emergency Galaxy bar to eventually pull out your small purse.

"Harry! What are you—

—Ah, ah!" He holds it all away from you and reminds you of the promise. "This is mine for the night," he says, slipping your purse into his coat pocket. "Otherwise you'll end up buying too many rounds."

You try to sneak your hand into the pocket after your wallet, "Don't be stupid. It's your birthday, I'll buy every round if I need to."

"Exactly my point," he steps away from you down the street, and you skip to be back at his side. He's stolen your money and your chocolate bar.

"Harry, give it back."

"Nope," he pops the 'p' and hands you back the bag, the Galaxy bar hanging from between his teeth, still in the packet, "You promised. Now hurry up and walk, and I might give you a bite of this. 'm freezing my balls off, we are not in LA anymore."

So that's how you end up in the next bar, your handbag a little lighter, squished into Harry's side with a pleasantly sour cocktail he paid for between your fingers. The booth is so far into the back wall you're not even really sure which direction the front door is anymore. Somehow, you've managed to sit ten people around a booth probably designed for six, but nobody seems to be bothered.

Your whole right side is on fire, though.

You can feel Harry from the top of your shoulder all the way to your ankle. His hip sits neatly next to yours, Harry's left elbow rests just above your right thigh, and your knees press together every time he gets excited when he speaks and unintentionally opens his legs up. If Harry's bothered by it there's no way you'd know, he's hardly looked at you since you all sat down, much less uttered a word of discomfort about the seating arrangements. Makes no sense really, when he seemed so desperate for you to stay out with them.

(Next to you Harry's felt like he was high most of the time, he's flashing in and out of the conversations around him. Because he can smell your perfume—Stella by Stella McCartney, he'd know that fragrance anywhere, you've been wearing it since you were seventeen—and you're warm and snug beside him. He feels completely insane. But he also feels inflated with a heart-crushing joy at having you so close. He's trying his best not to draw attention to it or to you because what he's always liked most about your friendship is that you're just his. God, he needs to do better at seeing you more often, talking more, being more. Each breath as he's touching you is like a crack of electricity through his chest that aches beautifully. Nobody else feels like this. Even when he's dated, what he's felt with them can't hold a candle to his boyhood crush on you.)

You sip your drink and laugh at the embarrassing story that's being told about Harry, oblivious to his torment. Oblivious to how Harry feels your forearm brush his leg and has the overwhelming desire to deposit his palm on your thigh and keep it there, probably forever.

It strikes you that the last time you saw Harry was before the current anecdote about him in Italy happened, and at the table, it's being spoken about as though it was ancient history. You wonder what historic classification your memory of thirteen-year-old Harry would get, that time he attempted to bleach his hair with lemon juice. He ended up with second-degree burns on his forehead from the acid reacting with the sun.

Or the time Gemma stayed in Holmes Chapel for the summer because she had her first boyfriend, and so you spent six weeks learning that maybe you'd been wrong about who your favourite Styles child was. Maybe the boy who, when you were eleven, didn't impress you much, suddenly at thirteen, demanded all your attention. Made that summer become the first where you considered your outfits and whether your mum sending you next door with homemade snacks made you look lame.

"… And of course, Harry can't walk away from a dance floor when he's on the tequila …" everyone around the table laughs. Harry peeks at you to make sure you are too, but he's not very good at it because you notice, a smile flares on your lips.

You're used to long periods of not seeing each other, it's how it's always been. Harry and Gemma spent the summers with their dad and then returned to Holmes Chapel for real life. Sometimes that's what it still felt like, as though each time you saw either of them you were acutely aware there was a foreign Real Life they would go back to without you.

Harry in particular. You were used to not seeing him for months on end, usually the whole school year. Just a few messages over MySpace and birthday cards, and then, when you were out of school, invites to parties Harry couldn't come to anymore—'I'm in Australia, how insane is that? Sorry, I'll miss your 18th …' or 'I can only stay until the 8th, could you maybe graduate a week earlier? ;)'—and emails every other month with a new mobile number for you to overwrite his contact in your phone with. You're not saying you feel hard done by in your friendship, you don't. It's just always very take-what-you-can-get with Harry.

"You've got your thinky eyes on," he's pivoted his whole body towards you, hips twisted in an entirely uncomfortable looking position. Harry's got his resting elbow on the table right next to where your hand holds your drink, and he's looking down at you with careful eyes, "Where are you?"

"The pool a dozen summers ago," you answer easily, pursing your lips together and running a knuckle along your hairline, "Thinking about your ah, burn incident."

Harry's face explodes in a grin, and his eyes roll up to the ceiling and then capture yours again, "For fuck's sake, you're never going to stop bringing that up, are you?"

"You were a horrible blonde," you remark quickly, "If you ever so much as blink in the direction of a packet of bleach you have to call me, okay? I'll have no issue telling you, categorically, you should never dye your hair."

"Categorically," Harry mimics you childishly, "Alright, I get it, you went to uni. No need to use words with fifty syllables to make me feel stupid."

You bring your glass up to your lips, "Come off it, Harry, you're ten times smarter than me."

His forehead raises, "You're the cleverest person I know. Don't make me call Gem to confirm it."

"Don't bring your sister into this, Harry," you deadpan.

He goes to reply but holds back, something unnamable travelling across his eyes as he watches you lick your lips after taking another sip of your drink. Harry's leaning a little closer than he might usually, and despite the fact he's a few drinks in he still smells only of Tom Ford and clean clothes. He's just about to ask you what you're doing the next day when he gets hit in the side of the head with a coaster.

"Hey," he cries out, pulling back from you and frowning around at the group trying to figure out who the culprit is," 'M the fucking birthday boy, watch it."

Lisa is the girl directly across from Harry and yourself, and she's is the one who threw it. She's giving Harry a coy smile and holds up her empty glass to him, a not so subtle request makes the drink in your hand feel like a concrete brick. Something dirty you don't like having. She's got captivating blue eyes and straight blonde hair—exactly Harry's usual type. Your heart sinks as he slides out of the booth next to you, laughing at her flirtatious request and taking a tally of who else wants a new drink.

"Y/N?" Your name is delicate on his lips, and it makes you want to cry. Why is it so easy for you to make things feel like they mean more with him?

You direct your smile his way, "I'm good, thanks."

His head tilts to one side, "You sure?"

"Positive," you nod, feeling your cheeks burn as everyone watches the exchange.

"Okay," Harry taps the table with the corner of his phone, "I'll be right back."

After a few moments, you sneak off to the bathroom, happy to see Harry's beaten you back from the bar when you return. He's sitting in your spot, deep in conversation with the person beside him who you recognise from the radio. Tentatively, you slip in next to him, careful not to touch him this time. Harry's got his hand casually resting on the table, turning your glass forty-five degrees one way and then back the other way as he speaks. You think about reaching over and pulling it out of his hand gently (you're losing your buzz, and Little Miss Bombshell across the table has made you feel silly and juvenile) but it looks to be an almost serious conversation, so you don't. With a smile plastered on your face, you look around the table, resisting the urge to pull out your phone to check if either of your flatmates has text you to meet up with them somewhere.

It's a delicious whiff of your perfume behind him that turns Harry's head. You're back from the bathroom, although nobody was able to confirm that's where you went when he got back from the bar and asked after you. Harry pushes your drink over and gives you a smile, taking note of the fresh layer of lipstick and messy oomph to your hair that perfectly shows off the new style and bangs.

Golden, he thinks, As always,

"Your new hair really does look beautiful," Harry tells you, the bar stilling around you as his face becomes all the world is for you at that moment, "Next time, don't wait for a dickhead to break your heart before doing something to make yourself feel good."

You swallow down the thickness in your throat, "Thanks, Harry."

Walking to the next bar, Harry can't stop himself from asking.

"What happened?"

You kick your foot out as you wait at a set of traffic lights, half the group ran to cross, but you, Harry and a couple of others were too slow, "What happened with what?"

Harry watches his breath fan out in front of his face, "With your ex, with …"

"Tim."

"Tim, yeah," he turns to look down at you, hands tucked into his coat pockets, "What happened with Tim?"

"Nothing really," you start strong, then shrug one shoulder as you think about it. It's safe to cross so you wait until you're stepping up over the gutter and onto the opposite footpath before you continue, "Probably a lot of little things but … Always felt like he thought I was asking for a bit too much. I guess in the end he just didn't like me all that much."

The way your voice drops kills Harry, he's not detecting self-deprecation but something far worse. He's detecting acceptance or acknowledgement or like you're confessing some truth that should have been obvious.

"Y/N," he stops walking and halts you as well, lets Adrian and Lisa walk around and out in front of you, "If he didn't like you very much then he's got some kind of chemical imbalance. I mean it, this guy's not worth a second of your heartache."

It's not like Harry's a dickhead about it, not like he thinks you should date people with more money or status or who are more impressive. A person isn't their job or what car they drive, he knows that. Harry's not about judging anyone, but you really do seem to date guys not worthy of you. He hasn't met many of them, but Harry knows this to be true because if they were worthy, you simply wouldn't be single right now. If you dated someone half-decent, there wouldn't be a chance in hell they'd let you go. You're beautiful and thoughtful and intelligent and funny—so funny—which means Harry knows without a doubt that this Tim guy was an absolute fuckwit.

"It's not necessarily about the guy," you start and Harry can hear the thick emotion in your voice, "Is it? It's about the idea. The disappointment is more about not getting the fairytale, not finding my person. Not getting the whole package everyone else seems to have found. I know Tim wasn't right—truth be told I didn't end up liking him very much either—doesn't stop me from being sad that I still haven't found it."

"'It'… That's what you're looking for?" Harry asks, eyes out front where the rest of the group are all stopped waiting at another set of traffic lights.

They're laughing and chatting loudly to other people on nights out, and hanging off street poles to get funny pictures. He doesn't want to catch up to them, not when the two of you are in the middle of this conversation that's making his heart race and his hands sweat. He starts taking smaller steps.

"Yeah," you breathe out, almost sounding ashamed of yourself, "Don't seem to be looking in the right places."

Look over here, Harry thinks.

"But I mean, each breakup I end up getting something out of it," you've flicked your positivity switch, "This time I got these boots and bangs," you kick out your foot and watch Harry take note of your footwear, "Last break up I got four houseplants and a new watch … It's not all bad. What about you?" you turn it back on Harry, "Are you seeing anyone at the moment?"

It's hard to tell with Harry. You either find out from his sister or sometimes, social media. Although that's all usually trash. Generally, when Harry's seeing someone, you'll hear it confirmed from Gemma, and the next time you see Harry, it'll be something you're assumed to know. You haven't seen Gemma since Christmas time though, for your annual festive get together, and she didn't mention anything. Tim had ended things with you a few days before, so that was the main topic of conversation.

"No," Harry confirms what you'd already deduced—and hoped—in your head, "Not for a while now."

"Got your eye on anyone?" You quiz faux cheekily, your smile a little too wide.

Yes, you, he says to himself as he looks at the side of your face.

You hope he's not got some girl in LA he's into. Just like you'd hoped his answer to the previous question. But the hope was silly, something that bloomed in your chest each time you saw him and died again before you were home in your bed, alone.

"I'll let you know," he says aloud.

You think you see something else there in his expression, but you know you can't have. Your mind is swirling, and you're feeling a tingling sensation all over that you know you shouldn't. It'll only leave you disappointed when you part ways tonight and don't see him for another few months. The tiny bits of maybe mores and perhaps are dangerous to things to cling on to now, they'll all turn into Nothings very quickly.

Someone steals his attention away from you when you get to the next street corner. Most of the group are gathered there, and you're not sure whether to believe it when Lisa says they missed the green man to cross the road because they were talking. She sides up to Harry and starts waving her hands around in an animated story about something or other. Harry crosses the street with her, and you give him up for the night.

But he's acutely aware of what's happened. Harry's not stupid—he's emotionally intelligent, and spent enough time with Lisa on nights out before—and he can see that she's deliberately pulled him aside. He likes her, quite a bit, but she doesn't make his insides flip, or his toes curl. She's firmly Just A Friend. Harry hasn't spent countless hours over the years thinking about her, lying to himself about how he's completely fine when she starts dating someone new. He's never thought about an alternative life, one where he stayed at school and went to uni and got a regular job and maybe (definitely) ended up with her.

He's imagined that life with you—more than once. More than a dozen times, if he's honest. For years now, Harry's bitten his tongue and smiled through the pain of not being able to have you. And sure, most of the time it's a dull ache, deep in the recess of his mind, that needs to be called on or conjured to really be felt, but it's always been there. He's always had an (Astronomical) Soft Spot For You. Ever since that summer you broke your arm falling off the back of the ramp at the skate park, and he first saw you cry. At fifteen he didn't know what the hollow but sharp pain through his heart was as he rushed to your side, but now he knows that was the first sign he didn't see you as just a mate. Would never again see you as just a mate.

And now, hearing you use the word 'it'. You say you're out there dating idiots trying to find it and Harry's just unwaveringly sure he that could be him. He wants to be it for you.

You've pulled out your phone and fallen behind, face pulled down as you type away furiously. Harry watches you out of the corner of his eye, half just to watch you and half to make sure you don't get separated entirely from the safety of the group.

"Y/N," he calls out, unable to keep up with Lisa's story and unwilling to try to tune back into it. She stops short, and annoyance flits across her face, but Harry still turns to you, still crosses his arms over his chest and gives you his best scolding look, "It's the oldest trick in the book," he goads you. Lisa sighs behind him, and he ignores it.

Your head slowly comes up and takes in Harry (and Lisa sulking behind him), "What is?"

"Fallin' behind so you can peek at my bum."

You point at the long coat Harry's wearing that goes to his knees, "Can't see half of you under that thing."

"Ah, ha!" He calls out, his pointer finger floating in the air right in front of your face, "So you've tried."

You shove his shoulder and step around him, trying like anything to act neutrally. You're aware Lisa is still watching on, and you're not used to your friendship with Harry being quite so carefully observed. You know your face has gone red and you're really not going to involve yourself in a pissing contest with her. It's not classy and certainly not your vibe.

As you walk away, boots clip up behind you, and Harry heavily drapes his arm right across your shoulders, pulls you into his side, "Was just teasin', love."

"I know," you respond quietly, not upset, not really.

"Though I might've made you sad," Harry continues solemnly, "Know you get embarrassed in front of people."

Your face cracks into a smile, "Opposite of you, hey, you're practically an exhibitionist."

He should flirt because you've led him to a pretty easy window into a dirty joke, but something has Harry hanging onto his regret, "I mean it, shouldn't tease you …Should be old enough to use my words, tell you what I think."

You've got no idea what he's on about, "Harry, the teasing was fine. Where's this bloody bar though?"

Up ahead, everyone's standing on the footpath in a clump. Harry can feel the next words on his lips but has to hold them in when his mates turn and see he's finally caught up. They're waiting a few minutes for a table, someone explains, then they'll be able to go in. Harry thinks how little he feels like another drink at another bar. A few people walk away from the group to share cigarettes. You're standing a little bit away, under the sign for the butcher next-door and kick your foot back against the wall like the slight movement might warm you up.

As he steps up to you, Harry watches you get distracted by the group of people spilling out of the bar you're all about to go into. He doesn't want to take advantage of knowing you're newly single also doesn't want to let this opportunity pass. You're always dating someone, or he is, or there's some other reason not to. There's always a reason to hold back from you and Harry refuses to believe it's the drinks he's had nudging him into this. Neither of you is drunk, he wouldn't even say he's tipsy anymore. Just warm and contemplative and less inhibited than usual.

"C' mere," he calls softly, the tips of his boots landing right in front of yours, your bodies a hands' width apart. He wants you closer.

"Harry—

He opens up his coat to you and when you don't move—your brain is busy short-circuiting—he acts for you and winds his arm around your shoulder to encase you in the warmth, "Get in," Harry says, "You're shivering."

You're shocked by the contact, at him being so close and inviting you in and then just taking you in his jacket. He's wrapped the lapels around both your bodies and forced you against his chest. He hums against you, but you're feeling incredibly awkward with your arms hitched up against your chest and pressed rigidly into his shoulders. You've not been in a hold like this before and certainly not with Harry.

He pulls back and digs around for your wrists, "You've gotta put them around me," he stretches his arms behind his back, taking yours with them and instructing you to really settle against him. "There, that's better," he wraps the jacket back around you, and the two of you stand like that—hearts pressed together, scents converging and your whole frame shaking against his—for what seems like far too long for it mean nothing. Right? Your thoughts ricocheted around inside his jacket and go nowhere, solve nothing in your mind.

Over your shoulder, he sees the rest of the group have gone into the bar. He's not surprised none of them called out, Harry's angled you both away from the door and with his head ducked down against yours they probably (hopefully) missed you both there.

It's Harry's twenty-seventh birthday, and maybe that's made him sullen or introspective. Made him think about the passage of time and how another year has passed him by, yet here he stands in the same place as ever—wanting you. Wishing for more, or waiting for a moment that feels right, or hoping something will happen. With growing older comes a sense of regret and an acceptance that twenty-six has happened and anything he wanted to achieve by that age but didn't he never will. There's only the future. Only the things he can do. And the mix of all that with the cocktails has Harry feeling as though he has to act on this. Every birthday he thinks maybe by the next one the Somethings or the Maybes might have happened, and you won't be standing in front of him as just his friend.

"Always had a thing for you," Harry says, his chin resting against the crown of your head while his arms link around low on your back, holding you against him, "I've always liked you more than I should."

Oh god, you think, your chest freezing in place, I'm hallucinating.

"What?" Now your heart is really racing. Or maybe it's completely stopped, seized up and fallen out of your chest onto the salt-covered footpath.

His voice comes out evenly as he repeats himself, "Feels bigger than a crush, but I guess that's what it is … Since we were kids."

(Oh, how those words have been his best-kept secret for all these years but now, in less than two seconds, he's let go of them more easily than almost anything else he's ever done)

"Y/N?"

Harry thought he'd be scared. Thought this would be a moment of panic. Every time he's imagined this he's thought 'and I'd be absolutely shitting myself because what if she doesn't feel the same way?' but now that he's said it he's almost completely calm. The only reason he's worried is that he can feel how hard your heart is beating—even through the layers of clothing—and surely that quickly can't be good for your health.

You're speechless, and he leans back so he can see your face and, oh your eyes. Why on earth didn't he say it to your face, so he could be looking in your eyes? Watch his words project across your expression and settle into your mind.

You look worried, and Harry's transported back to that time he had you on FaceTime when he was somewhere on tour with One Direction. He was telling you about how management was going to let them fly friends out on tour, bring a little bit of home along and give the boys some needed space from each other. You were nodding along and so excited for him but sure Harry was talking about someone else, that this was just news and he'd called up to tell you how he was inviting the boys he went to school with in Cheshire or people he met through X-Factor. Of course I'm bringing out you and Gem, you idiot, he'd told you when you were surprised to get an invite, Who else did you think I was talking about?

He kind of loves watching the look on your face right now, the cogs turning in your head and wheels spinning, furiously trying to figure out what Harry means.

Why isn't he terrified of what you're about to say?

"Why … but you've… and I've…"

Your hands have moved to his hips so you can see him properly, and Harry's encouraged by the fact you haven't pulled away or pushed him off you. You're watching him with a puzzled look on your face and a burning heat across your cheeks.

He brings his forearms up to rest on your shoulders and smiles at you, "I wasn't brave enough to act on it … Guess I didn't want to fuck it up. Didn't want it to not work out. Couldn't stand you becoming an ex."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Right." You don't seem capable of more than one word at a time.

"You feel bad for yelling at me about the chocolate bar now, don't you?" Harry's narrowed his eyes playfully.

That does it.

Your eyes snap back up to his face from being fixated on staring at his neck, "Chocolate bar … No, what the fuck, Harry."

He laughs. A real laugh that comes from the base of his tummy and squeezes his eyes shut and crinkles his nose. His head falls back, and it's a deep, uninhibited laugh, "Don't stomp your new boots at me," he eventually says, crooking his head down to be almost pressing his forehead against yours. "You've been my favourite girl for years, I've always been a pansy idiot who didn't want to wreck the friendship."

"Oh, and now you don't mind wrecking it?" You bark back sarcastically, unsure why you're angry at him but you are.

"No," Harry says softly, moving through your emotional responses seamlessly, "I don't think it's going to wreck it, do you? Think twenty-seven has finally given me the balls to pursue it. To tell you how I feel. How I've always felt."

Your eyes instantly ball with hot tears you weren't prepared for, "You're an idiot."

"I am," he agrees readily, fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

"Why have you told me this now," your voice is small, unsure.

Harry frowns, now he's starting to panic, "Do you … Do you not feel the same? Or do you not think maybe you could?"

Oh, if only he could have been in your head every time you saw him these last few years. Heard you talk yourself down and away from anything more than platonic, from any thoughts that might elevate you in his eyes. You've spent all this time trying to convince yourself to believe you were nothing more than a friend to him, and now this.

"Harry, are you sure you—

—I'm sure," he insists quickly.

"I just—

—I'm sure."

You're suddenly very embarrassed by the conversation the two of you had earlier about your ex. The conversation where you basically told Harry you're incredibly desperate to settle down and find The One. He's so achingly cool, and you feel like a little tinned tomato, thin-skinned and persistently flustered.

Tinned tomato? Really? You berate yourself, Case in bloody point.

"Y/N"

You scratch roughly at your forehead and grimace at whatever thoughts are going through your mind, "I'm just …"

Harry brings one hand up to fix your bangs, carefully sweeping the hair back across your forehead evenly, letting the pads of his fingers dust over your skin, "I think if you didn't feel the same you'd have said No by now."

His words steal the air from your lungs, "Harry, you've just always …"

"I've always?"

"I never thought …"

The smile comes up over his face gently, "It's me, Y/N, please finish a sentence. I'd really like to kiss you, but you haven't yet said anything to imply you'd be open to that …"

You pull your lips together like a reflex you can't help, you've rarely let yourself fall that deep into imaging things with Harry, but your body reacts to his words in an instant, "Promise you're not kidding …"

"I promise I'm not kidding," Harry said sincerely. "I'd never kid around about this, Y/N."

You believe him, and ten seconds of bravery comes over you, "I was thirteen."

His eyes narrow slightly, trying to figure out what you mean, "Thirteen?"

"My thing for you," you continue quietly, heart racing as adrenaline swamps your legs, "Started the summer I turned thirteen."

Harry hears the slight shaking to your voice and almost misses what you've said. Then it hits him.

"Oh yeah?" He squints at you and pulls up his nose with a smile, a secret little smile that will never belong to anyone but the two of you. The Smile that happened just before Harry leant down and kissed you for the first time, pressed his warm lips against your cold ones and really breathed you in.

He holds it like that for a moment, your lips touching but not moving. Then his hands come up to cup your face, and Harry moves his mouth to one side, just a touch. You open up to him, and he has the brief thought that this is probably the Most Important Kiss Of His Life. His insides curl in on themselves as he gets completely lost in you. Completely lost in how perfect this moment feels and how much finally kissing you feels like a relief.

You can't believe this is happening. You're still tucked into Harry's coat—warm and safe—but now you're joined at the mouth, and Harry's a really really good kisser. He's got his thumbs pressed into your cheeks and his fingers laced through the hair around your ears. When his tongue first licks your bottom lip and then goes searching for yours, you don't think you've felt yourself flicker On so quickly. A soft moan escapes your lips, and Harry's kiss somehow becomes harder, his nose bumping yours where he'd been good at keeping things smooth until then. As quickly as it intensifies, Harry takes a slight step back and drags his mouth away from yours.

"Y/N," he breaths out your name, sealing your lips with one of his thumbs as he pulls back. Harry's taking stock of your face (hopefully) getting used to being this close to you. Noting the way your eyelashes kink out at an odd angle right at the corner of your eye, and the freckle that's so close to the edge of your mouth he's never noticed it before. Harry's can feel your heart has slowed down, and the expression on your face right now is content, but curious. He's also sure he can see fear under it all.

"Well," your voice shakes, because Harry's looking at you like you've only dreamed and now that you're here you're not really sure what happens next. You kissed Harry.

He clears his throat lightly and his hands both fall to hold either side of your neck, "There's no way I'm going back to not being able to do that whenever I want."

Then, he kisses you again. You feel yourself melt against him as Harry's chest presses back against yours. You link your arms around his waist, clutching the back of his shirt between your fingers as Harry leads the kiss with a hand on your neck and the other holding your chin carefully. You've picked up right where the last one let off, hungry and exploring and a little bit desperate (perhaps a lot desperate) to have more of each other.

But then his phone rings in his trousers pocket, right against your hip, and you jump away in surprise.

"Shit," Harry mutters, pulling the stupid machine out, cursing the universe, "Sorry … It's Aiden," he tells you with an eye-roll.

And then you're back to reality. Your drinks have all worn off, your feet ache, your ears are freezing, and you've just made out with one of your oldest, best friends. Shit.

"Oh," you take a hearty step back, hands slipping out from Harry's coat and your body bracing the full brunt of the cold night, "Yeah … That's—

—Aiden," Harry barks the name of his mate down the phone while at the same time hooking his free arm around the back of your neck and pulling you close again. He's not giving up touching you that easily, and he doesn't care, quite frankly, about giving you any room to start internalising or retreating from him, "No, we've gone to get some food … I'll see you during the week sometime. Tell everyone thanks for—Yes, I'm serious … I don't care, saw all you lot last week … I'm hanging up now. Bye."

You listened in on the conversation because it was really all you could do. Aiden was obviously inside the bar, and they were all wondering where Harry got to. We've gone to get some food, Harry told him, so they'd know he was with you. (You supposed he was hardly going to say, 'oh yeah we've been out the front making out') Bits and pieces of the other end of the conversation, you were able to pick up on, but not enough to truly know what was said. By the end of the call, Harry was smiling though, you could hear it in his voice.

His nose found the shell of your ear and Harry leant into you, "Come back to mine, or we can go to yours … Watch a movie, play Scrabble, anything … Just wanna be with you."

"It's two o'clock in the morning, Harry," you murmur, your mind struggling to make sense of what's just happened. You're outside a club in Soho held against Harry's chest with lips that know what he tastes like and a body that's on fire.

"I'm not tired," he shoots back, "Are you?"

"Well, no but—

—Great," Harry turns towards the road, takes a few steps to the curb (you trot along with him under his arm), as he flags down a black cab. "Mine or yours?"

His question is simple, he prompts you to answer by calling your name as he opens the door for you and gestures for you to hurry up and get in.

"Yours," you say.

Harry doesn't speak much in the cab, you figure it's about privacy. You hope it's about privacy. The thirty-minute drive out of the city and to his place feels much longer. Halfway through he reaches over for your hand and gives you a reassuring smile across the back seat. You thought the journey might make you sleepy, the sitting down in a warm car would bring the haze over your eyes and bring the long day to a close in your mind. But you could never feel sleepy with Harry's fingers playing with yours, or when he leans over and kisses your cheek for no reason at all.

At his house, Harry tells you to make yourself at home while he turns on the kettle for a cuppa. You kick your boots off in the hallway, and your feet start throbbing in relief as you follow his retreating form. It's certainly not the lusty, hurried entry you imagined you might have. Which only plants doubts in your mind about what's actually going on between the two of you.

"I'm just going to use the bathroom," you call out ahead of you, turning back to the stairs and taking yourself up to Harry's second storey.

Upstairs you don't take long. You're looking a little worse for wear—who wouldn't at 3am—but you're not really in the mood to try to fix yourself. Even if you did Harry would notice, and that felt like something you wanted to avoid. As you walk back to the landing, you wriggle your toes in your socks and happen to look back down the upstairs hallway. You've been in this house dozens of times before but this time feels different. It feels quiet and intimate somehow. Just as you're about to go down the first step, you see Harry's bedroom door is open on the opposite side of the stairs to the bathroom, and you notice something that makes you stop.

The book you got him for Christmas is sitting on his bedside table.

You're standing over it before you realise that your legs have started moving, looking at a picture of Anne, Gemma and Harry, a bottle of water and the book. You pick it up, the cover a little bent and the spine cracked to where he's read. Harry's using the birthday card you send along with the gift as a bookmark. The top of the familiar design sticking out the top of the pages, you can't even really remember what you wrote inside. Something generic probably. Platonic.

Happy birthday, old man! Have a wonderful day, sorry I can't be there in person. Love, Y/N.

The floorboard at the top of the stairs creaks and you turn around to Harry looking surprised to see you standing over his bed. He's got two cups of tea and a family-sized Dairy Milk bar under his arm. Something churns inside you, this was Harry as you'd always known him. Except now you looked at his lips and wondered why the hell you weren't kissing him.

"Oh, yeah, I've been reading that," Harry sees the book in your hands and walks towards you, "It's excellent, unsurprisingly."

A smile starts on your face, "You doubted my selection ability?"

"Never," he returns quickly and then raises his eyebrows at you, "Looking for anything else?"

You feel your cheeks heat and you drop the book back into its place, "No, sorry, I was coming down the stairs and saw … I'm sorry."

Harry passes you a tea, "It was really kind of you to send something over. Was fun having something to unwrap on the day."

"I'm glad," you smile and take a sip of the tea. It's sweet, and you screw up your face, "This is yours."

Harry watches you with a strange expression on his face as the two of you swap mugs. He's worrying his bottom lip, obviously weighing something up in his mind. You see it when he decides what he' going to do about it.

"I've got something I want to show you," he tells you finally, tilting his head back to the door. "Wanna come see?"

"What is it?" You ask automatically, but Harry's already walking out the door, and you have to hurry to catch up.

He leads you into his study, and you hover in the doorway as Harry sets his tea and the chocolate down on the desk. He pulls Bananagrams out of the draw and places it next to the mug.

"We're actually going to play Bananagrams?" You ask.

He looks back at you, "You'd prefer actual Scrabble?"

"I didn't know what you meant by—I guess I …"

Realisation dawns on his face, and he widens his eyes, "Oh, you thought it was a euphemism."

"No!" You snap back quickly, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks (for the record, yes, you thought 'a movie or Scrabble' was a thinly veiled way of Harry suggesting … something else), "No, I just … I just don't think I'll be able to spell words right now."

"I didn't think you were still tipsy" Harry states, shit-stirring.

"I'm not!" You squawk at him. "I'm… I' m—You kissed me!"

He grins, loving the fact he's driven you a little crazy, "Yeah. Want me to do it again?"

Harry's playing with you. He's teasing. And you know it but what you don't know is how he's so confidently jumped to it. Not when you feel like you've been left on the street outside the bar trying to figure out what the hell this means, and what's going to happen tomorrow when he stops looking at you like that. You don't like to think this whole night could've been him playing with you, you don't know Harry to be that cruel. But there's a tripwire in your mind you keep getting snared on.

It's Harry.

"C' mere," he reaches his hand down across the room between you both, "C' mere and kiss me again. You don't seem to be getting it."

"Getting it?" You're cut off by Harry taking two big steps toward you and then planting his lips on yours again.

His palms find your hips, and you hold him in the same spot. It takes a moment for the two of you to find a rhythm, and even then, you're too in your head. You're struggling to remember what little Harry's said about this whole thing. You know he said he had a crush on you and you've gotten the distinct impression he wasn't too fond of your ex. But for all you know Harry's been kissing his mates like this for years but just never gotten around to kissing you. You might've been next on the list. He's a friendly guy. Maybe a crush isn't what it used to be. Or maybe—

He pulls back from your lips with a huffy expression on his face, "Y/N," he says quietly, "I'm a man with an incredibly fragile ego, whatever you're worrying about is really getting in the way of kissing you."

"I'm just—

—Let me show you what I brought you in here for," he interrupts you, takes your hand and tugs you towards the window. Then, he puts a hand on each of your shoulders and directs your attention to the wall.

It's lined with record sale plaques for singles and albums over the years—double Platinums and Gold-Somethings. Harry watches you eyes run over them all, a proud but unsure look in your eye. You're not sure why he's showing them to you, he knows that. He hopes you're not intimidated by them, he's certainly not showing you to try to score any points. There's a sweeter gesture behind it. He points to one leaning against the wall, not hanging. He's got it resting on the bubble wrap it was sent over in.

Stepping up closer behind you, Harry rests his chin on your shoulder, "That one's for you."

"What?"

"I want you to have it, been saving it for you … If I ever got brave enough."

The question falls from your lips before you really think about it, "Why would you want me to have it …"

Harry waits to see if you'll let on you've figured it out, he thought it was pretty obvious really, but you've never been one to elevate yourself or assume, and Harry knows that about you. So, when you don't keep talking, he confirms it for you, "That song is about you."

You just blink, eyes on the framed plaque taking in the name of the song and hearing it in your head.

It's about me? You think you want to hear it, you need to Google the lyrics and make sure you have them right in your head. Harry wrote a song about you. Harry wrote that song about you.

"When … When did you write it?"

"You mean why?" Harry raises his head and steps to stand next to you, he observes your face carefully.

"No, I mean when." You're starring at it like the plaque might answer the question, "When did you write it?"

Harry runs a hand over his head as he thinks, "A few years back, after that time you came out to LA … Didn't record it until this year though …"

Harry watches your face expand in surprise and then crumple back down to confusion. You really don't get it. He's not sure how to make you in one night. He supposes he can't. So he trails his hand up the back of your arm and then around your back, tilting his head down and waiting to see if you'll pull away. When you don't, he kisses the corner of your mouth and then opens his wider to take you lips in his properly.

It's different to the kisses outside the bar, now that you're both out of your outer layers Harry can feel your body against his in ways he's only dreamed, and it's sending everything straight between his legs. Harry's hands explore your back and the curve of your hips, thumbs almost reaching the underside of your breasts but not quite. It's a little awkward when he senses you've felt him hardening between you. Usually, lust clouds that moment, and Harry doesn't mind intimate partners being acutely aware of how they're affecting him. But with you he's a little hesitant, he senses the awkwardness on your side. Friends don't feel those body parts on each other, friends don't… He almost groans when your mouth leaves his without warning.

You think he'll probably change his mind about all this.

"Have you changed your mind?" You ask, not able to stop it.

Confusion colours his features, and his lips smack together, like he's savouring tasting you, "Wha—

"About wanting to be kissing me," you clarify.

"What? No." Harry's eyebrows have shot up, and he's shaking his head, "I barely even started! Didn't I just say I wrote that song about you—why the hell would I—want to do more than just kiss you—You think I'm gonna change my mind?"

You shrug, "Maybe. I don't know."

"Well," he stands up straighter and pins you with his stare, "I'm not. I promise I'm not going to change my mind. And I promise I'll never make you feel like you're asking for too much. Ever."

"Now you're trying to make me cry," you say, hearing him repeat back to you the insecurity leftover from your conversation about your ex. You're half kidding with your words but also not. You believe him. You trust him.

Harry grimaces, sways your bodies together gently, "I really hate seeing you cry, could you not? I had other plans."

You sniff through a laugh as Harry wraps his arms around your middle tighter," What plans are those?"

"Well, I literally thought Scrabble," he tells you through a smile, trying his best to make you laugh, "But I'm open to whatever dirty things you were thinking as well."

"You'll win Scrabble."

So, Harry instructs you to bring your tea and your sore feet back into his bedroom. He gets you a fluffy pair of hiking socks and tells you to take yours off, and your tights, and get comfortable on the bed with him and the block of chocolate. You've polished off a family size together before, the sugar going straight to your heads and always leading to a giggly night of reminiscing and Almosts.

This time though, you only get halfway through the tea and Harry pushes the chocolate off the bed onto the floor in favour of you straddling his hips. It started with a stolen kiss against your temple, and then another on your cheek, and one close to your lips, and then you captured his face in your hands and really kissed him. Within a few moments, Harry was dragging you over to him. His hands settle on the swell of your backside as it sits against his thighs and your lips trace the line of his jaw. This was really happening. You'd really let him peel off your dress and flick off your bra. His shirt was somewhere with the forgotten snacks, and you seemed extremely eager to keep feeling his hardness pressed between your legs.

"I swear to god, I never dreamed this would happen," he murmurs, hissing when your hips pressed into his at a different angle, "Was sure I'd be going to your wedding one day, completely miserable and probably end up drunk and causing a scene. Embarrass you so badly you'd never want to see me again, and you'd just run away with your stupid husband."

You pull back and watch Harry ramble, your bare chest rising and falling against his, "You're a real glass half full kinda guy, aren't you?" you smile at him.

"I just," his eyes drop to your chest, nipples puckered for him, and he scrunches them shut then drops his forehead onto your sternum with a big sigh, "This is fucking unreal, and my brain is just struggling to comprehend—you're breathtaking, and I feel like my chest is gonna explode."

"It's also 4am, so there's always the potential your brain is just plain tired," your index finger is drawing circles on the back of his shoulder as Harry leans against you, you pause and run your hand over the back of his head, "Maybe we should sleep for a little … I'll be here when you wake up," you say in response to Harry squeezing his arms around your waist tightly as if you were going to disappear. Or worse, leave.

His indescribable green eyes find yours in the light from the bedroom lamps, "Will you let me hold you while you sleep?"

"Yeah," you nod, although somehow that question seems more intimate than the lack of clothes between you at the moment. You're distinctly less dressed than Harry, who's still got his trousers on, you're only covered by your underwear.

"We don't have to rush this, right? Got all the time in the world now," still, as he speaks his palms trail up your back and then down again, skimming the sides of your breasts, "Just don't wanna miss anything is all."

"I promise I'm incredibly boring in my sleep, won't miss anything," you tease, "Might be the only time you get any peace."

Harry tightens his forearms around your back and finds the soft skin below your ear with his lips—once, twice, three little kisses—"I feel pretty at peace right now, just having you here. Feels like I'm living a dream."

You don't reply for a moment, but you let your body rest against Harry's in a comfortable hug, your voice is quiet, "You really wrote me a song?"

"I did."

"I've always loved that song."

“Well, it's been yours all along."

"Nobody's ever written a song about me."

"I should hope not."

"Are you going to write another one?"

"Without a doubt."

Chat to me here

#OOOO SHIT what have i done #well #1dff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles X reader #harry styles stories #harry styles imagines #harry fic

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lumosinlove · 4 years ago

Text

Sweater Weather

part xvii

A/N:

Hey team!

I just want to pop in before the chapter to say a HUGE thank you to those who sent me letters!

Thanks to Hannah for your letter and O’Knutzy necklace! It’s AMAZING.

I want to thank Giana for your gorgeous letter (I’ll answer your questions in a separate post and I’m so glad you’re writing again!)

Thank you Kennedy for the painting, earrings, shark sticker (yay marine biologist!) and letter with the dried flowers :)

Thank you Alba for your SW art and your letter—yay to being there from the beginning!!

Thanks to Sophie for your kind words and letter!

Thank you Stephanie for your letter (and beautiful handwriting wow) and of course your gifts! I love the bookmarks and pin!

And last but certainly not least thank you to Alaena! I love that you included what asks you sent in XD and the STICKERS. I can’t decide if I want to put them on things or hang them all up on my bulletin board :) They’re incredible.

Thank you everyone, you’re all so thoughtful and kind!!

With SW ending soon (at least this fic, but this universe will never be over for me!) it is so incredibly lovely to hear what it means to you all. I feel so luck every single day that you guys love this team as much as I do. You thank me for this story, but I think the best part of fiction is that it expands and evolves differently in each mind it touches. Tumblr is such a freakin gift because I get a little glimpse into how you all think about these characters. So, I’m saying thank you to YOU. It’s truly a privilege to hear from you all. <3

If you feel like sending me anything, there is a link to my P.O. Box in my tumblr description! <3

Okay my mushy rant is done. Here’s chapter seventeen :)

Remus forgot his own birthday.

Lily had to remind him, bringing out a cake while he and Sirius had spent the day playing with baby Harry. Harry Potter. Harry James Potter.

The team adored him. Remus would never forget the sight of an entire team of hockey players, fresh off a plane, and crammed into a hospital room to peer at the small head of dark hair in Lily’s arms.

Minus one. Minus two, if what Sirius said was true, and Remus was part of the team. Remus had looked at the picture that Pascal had sent him from beside a sleeping Sirius and a heart monitor.

He had looked at the picture, and then at Sirius, and the relief doubled.

Four broken ribs. Bad, but it could have been worse. So much worse. A few days in Vegas to be monitored, just in case. Then, home.

Home for Remus’ birthday, home and in pain, but smiling none-the-less. Harry was a welcomed distraction from it all—the press, the hurt, the uncertainty. Lily seemed to know this without it needing to be said. Remus had told her she had enough going on without worrying about a cake, but Lily had just waved him off and cut them all large slices of the chocolate fluff.

Sirius, meanwhile, had somehow slipped a simple golden necklace around Harry’s neck, and when Remus looked down next, there it had been. A shining gold star pendant. The message had been clear. Sirius’ name-sake and Sirius himself—something to make a wish on.

Remus took a weeks off of work, all that he could.

Road-trips were a blur. Practices were anxious. The team was anxious.

March 27th.

Eight weeks. Sirius had been out for eight weeks. Resting, and stuck in his big house. Remus never thought he would be so thankful for Regulus.

“I’d rather be here than Slytherin any day, even though he whines like a baby when you’re gone.”

“Non,” Sirius would protest.

Regulus would raise an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

Remus would sneak into Sirius’ bedroom whenever he got home late, press one, two, three, four gentle kisses across his chest, and take his place on the other side of the pillow, carefully placed so that Sirius didn’t roll over during the night.

Sirius whined a good deal about that, too. And getting back on the ice.

“I just…I want to be back in case we make it to…” the playoffs.

The team was close. So close.

Sirius had only recently been allowed to come to the rink, suit and all, for home games to sit in the team box. It was strange, looking up from the bench at the jumbotron and seeing the image of Sirius there, standing with his arms crossed, sometimes with a beanie on, making his eyes look intense as he focused on the game in front of him. He was completely unreadable—to everyone but Remus. Remus could tell when he was happy with the team’s playing, when he was annoyed at their opponents. The internet was crawling with gifs of Sirius’ stormy eyes. Remus had more than a few saved, and they frequented the team group chat.

Remus looked up now, but all the jumbotron was showing was James, who had been taking lead in Sirius’ absence, talking quickly to Finn. Remus could see his own legs in the background.

The Stars were up 4-1, and there was ten minutes left in the second period. If they won this game, and they won the next game, they were in. And Sirius would be back the week after that—hopefully in time for the first playoff game, and not for an all-too-long summer vacation. Although, honestly, right then, Remus thought Sirius deserved either one. A chance at the Cup, or a break, a chance to rest up. To be together.

Leo was in net, Kasey resting up his thigh that continuously bothered him. Leo was skating a slow circle after the Stars scored yet another goal, tracing the blue crease with his stick. Remus could practically feel his furious calm.

“Big Rig may experience different weather up there, but he sure as hell has more gravity. Tremzy,” James knocked his helmet with his glove. “Don’t let him catch you, eh?”

“We gotta come back from this shit,” Finn said as he followed Logan over the boards. “For Leo. Leaving him out to dry out there. No.”

“For Cap,” Thomas said, coming back over the boards and breathing hard.

“Gotta put my baby in that silver crib!” James followed his wingers, a center for now.

“Cookie, Bluey, Ringer, be ready,” Coach called. “You’re on deck.”

“The oven is hot tonight,” Elias Cook said, pouring water over his neck.

“Stop saying that,” Kasey shook his head. “Jesus.”

“He can’t help the heat, Baby Bliz,” Thomas said.

Kasey just shook his head and looked back to the game.

Remus leaned in over Thomas’ shoulder. “That was a hit, Talkie, you good?”

“I’m hot,” Thomas said around his mouthguard.

Remus snorted, patting his shoulder pad. “You sure are.”

James lined up for the face off, Finn and Logan jostling against Benn and Perry. Logan dug his skates in when the ref dropped the puck and James whipped it back to him. Logan darted forward into the Stars’ zone, tailed closely.

“C’mon, Tremz,” Remus murmured.

Logan shot the puck off to Finn who got battered against the boards almost immediately by Benn, but got it smoothly to Olli, who sent it sailing back towards the Stars’ net. James was there behind the crease, Khudobin pushed out the wrong way—

James curled it in from behind and the Gryffindor goal horn blared.

“Fuck!” Thomas rose to his feet, knocking his stick against the boards. “Atta boy, baby-daddy!”

4-2 until the buzzer sounded and they were heading back down the tunnel. Remus glanced up at the screen one more time, and only just caught Sirius, smile plastered on as he was shown shaking the hands of a few older men. Remus suppressed a smile, and followed the team off of the ice for second intermission.

The locker room was subdued, and Sirius came in while Remus was crouched by Logan, taping up a jammed finger. He walked up to Coach first, leaning his elbows on the podium where he controlled the projector. Remus watched as he pointed to a few of the plays drawn up on the whiteboard, Coach nodding along.

“I can do this,” Logan said. “Leave with your moon eyes.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but tore off the tape and rose. “You’re all set. Try and keep it safe during third.”

“Oui,” Logan said, already sliding his headphones back on. Finn rose to get a fresh jersey, brushing a palm over the back of Logan’s neck on his way. Logan’s eyes followed him as he went to Leo next, who was sitting with his elbows on his knees in his stall, head down and airpods in. Finn squeezed himself in beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He leaned in to press a few kisses to his neck, murmuring soft words. Leo closed his eyes and pressed into him.

“Hey.”

Remus turned away from the two to meet Sirius’ eyes. He was smiling, a good break from the grimace Remus had become used to.

“Hi,” Remus said and pressed a hand over the familiar bandage, thick beneath Sirius’ suit and shirt. “Feeling okay?”

“I’m good,” Sirius leaned down, right in the locker room, and kissed him. His mouth was gentle, leisurely. “I feel good.”

Remus smiled into it, and took his hand. “Good. Come on.”

Sirius followed him, hand in Remus’, into the training office.

“Ten minutes until show time,” Remus said in the dim space and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck. “Are you really feeling okay? Been on your feet for a while, I’ve been watching.”

“Loops, I come back soon. I’m healed, I’ve started light exercise. It’s just a matter of insurance.” Sirius leaned into him, lips brushing his. “You seemed to think I was fine last night.”

Remus grinned. “Yeah, I definitely think you were fine last night.”

Sirius smiled, but then his expression turned more grave. He bit his lip, and ran his hands up and down Remus’ sides a few times, almost as if to comfort himself. “Fuck, I want this for the team so bad.”

Remus nodded. This was a conversation they had been having more often than not. “I know. And they know. You want it for them, but baby, they want it for you. They’re out there doing their fucking hardest for you. I don’t think you should start preparing for the worst. Not yet. Hockey’s a fast game.”

“We’re just—we’re so close. And fucking Grayback and…and if we win this game, we just have to beat Vegas again and we’re in. And I won’t get to fucking be out there because of fucking Grayback. And he’s not even suspended anymore—”

Remus kissed him, and Sirius mumbled for a moment into it before relaxing.

“Two games,” Remus said. “Home. Then Vegas. We beat Grayback, take a chance at the cup away from him. That’s the best we can do.”

Sirius looked at him for a long moment. “How are you so okay with all of this?”

“What’s the alternative? Obsessing over him? He’s not worth it. At all.”

They looked up at the sound of the team noisily making their way back down the tunnel, shouts and whistles, trying to psych themselves up for a come back.

“Third,” Remus said, then tucked his fingers into Sirius’ hair and kissed him again. “You’re competitive. I love you for it. But, baby, you’ve already beaten him. You beat him a long time ago.”

Remus kissed Sirius’ slowly smiling mouth again and again before rushing out the door.

Sirius made his way back up to the box. He watched the other members’ eyes follow him as he slipped back into the private room. There was an absurd array of food and drinks on a table, designed to impress members and investors. Sushi rolls and miniature hot dogs, popcorn in Lions colored cardboard boxes. Red-frosted cupcakes and lion head cake-pops. Sirius took a cupcake. He’d already beaten Grayback. Remus had just kissed him. His ribs had healed well. It all called for a cupcake.

“Really letting yourself off, eh?”

Sirius looked up at a man. He was wearing a white collared shirt under one of Sirius’ jerseys. Obviously a fan, obviously nervous, obviously important given the way one of the managers was looking at him talking to Sirius.

“No,” Sirius said plainly. “I’m having a cupcake.”

There were laughs from around him, as if Sirius was the funniest guy in the room. Sirius didn’t feel funny. This guy was making him miss puck drop.

The man held out his hand. “I’m Mike. Real doozy you slapped the world with.”

Sirius took it tightly, cupcake in his other hand. “I wasn’t aware that I did the slapping.”

“Probably broke a lot of hearts though.”

Sirius looked at Mike the way he looked at opponents on the ice. He watched him blink, watched his body language change.

“I was thinking about my own heart. Désloé, how do we know each other again?”

“Oh. Well—”

“Right,” Sirius nodded. “Enjoy the game.”

Sirius walked towards the box’s edge, unwrapping his cupcake. He could see the entire stadium from up here, the teaming mass of red and gold, the team readying themselves on the ice. A tiny glimpse of Remus on the bench. Coach was gesturing and talking. He watched his own face on the jumbotron as he took a bite of the dessert. He found the camera and flashed it a thumbs up, waving his arms upwards and listening to the crowd’s cheers roar in time with his hands. He caught glimpses of rainbow flags in the crowd, signs with number twelve decked out in the colors. It was a nice contrast to the signs that Sirius saw on his way into the stadium. Defaced number twelve jerseys, slurs, people jeering at his window as he drove through security. Interesting, to see who was inside, and who was not.

The puck dropped and James won it. James who, despite them being down, was hot tonight. No doubt riding the adrenaline of Harry and Lily at home, of being named temporary captain, of being so close to what they all dreamed of.

Sirius couldn’t think it, not even in his head.

The puck seemed to be frozen in the central zone, both teams battling too hard. A stalemate in aggressive trench warfare. Back and forth, back and forth with no progress. Sirius crumpled the cupcake wrapping between his fists and cupped them together, shoulders tense.

“Allez…” he whispered to himself.

The camera was on him again, and he looked stony even to himself. He raised his eyes to it and pointed a finger down at the game. Show that, he mouthed.

The Lions goal horn blared. Logan had scored.

Sirius knew the camera caught his reaction on camera. He put his fists up, relief bubbling out of him in a shout.

“Allez, Tremzy!”

The crowd was going wild. Finn slammed Logan into the boards in celebration and the jumbotron replayed the beautiful tip-in. 4-3. Things weren’t so impossible anymore.

Sirius squeezed the wrapper in-between his hands again and set his elbows on the ledge.

“Play Kuny, play Kuny…” Sirius muttered under his breath. He would match Oleksiak. Sure enough, Coach sent Kuny’s line over the boards a second later. Nado and Evan Kane followed him, Fox and Sunqvist on defense.

“No power plays,” Sirius prayed. “Come on, Nado, no stupid penalties.”

“Do you always talk to yourself in French while playing?”

Sirius stiffened. Mike was back.

“Non, parfois je parle en russe.”

Mike blinked. “What?”

“Laisse-moi tranquille, homme intrusif,” Sirius grinned sharply. “I said only sometimes. Usually on the bench.”

That seemed to make Mike happy. “Hey, you’re really superstitious, right?”

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

Like being alone in the team box, Sirius thought bitterly. Like getting a blowjob from my boyfriend before a game, you know, that doozy I slapped the world with?

“There’s a lot of them,” Sirius said. “If you’ll excuse me, I really have to watch this.”

Mike nodded quickly. “Oh, of course, of course.”

Sirius shifted away a little when he didn’t move, tried to focus on the ice. The puck had dropped and it was on Evgeni’s stick. He was carrying it quickly up the ice, seeming to cut through the players with his broad shoulders. Sirius imagined he could hear his deep voice, calling for Nado to look alive. The pass connected, but Seguin tapped it out of Nado’s hands from behind and sent it up the ice quickly to Benn.

“Merde,” Sirius said. The Lions were changing and then it was Pascal’s line with Elias and Brady, Olli and Timmy on defense. Benn managed to get around Olli, and then—

Leo was pushing far out of the crease and aggressively jabbed the puck right from Benn’s stick and onto Pascal’s waiting one. Leo slid back into the crease like a water snake. The stadium was chaos.

Knutty, Knutty, Knutty, was the chant. It filled the air itself. The jumbotron showed the bench briefly, Logan and Finn and Thomas grinning up at the stands. Pascal still had the puck.

His solid form darted up a clear channel, catching the Stars in a slow shift change. He was in front of the goal, Sirius squeezed the wrapper between his palms. Pascal faked by lifting his left leg, Khudobin went for it, and Pascal slid it right between his pads, neat and tidy.

They tied the game. They tied up the game. Sirius pushed back from the railing with a long breath as a TV break began. The Lions ice crew came out to some pop song and began their sweep. Sirius looked down at his bench and yearned to be with them. He rubbed his hand absentmindedly over his ribs. They were healed. He had a few more sessions with Remus left and then he would be back. He would be back.

He thought of the hit.

He hadn’t known what was wrong. There had been no air in his lungs. But Remus had been his first thought. He knew who hit him, he had seen his face before he hit the ice.

Remus.

This would hurt Remus.

“Wait, has a what?”

His own voice over the jumbotron drew him out of his thoughts. It was a pre-recorded interview, one of the fluff ones that they played for fun to entertain the crowd.

Marlene’s voice from off screen repeated the question. “Which one of your teammates has a life-sized Stormtrooper, R2-D2 and C-3PO action figure in their apartment?”

They showed his own face again, laughing and thinking. “Oh. Um.”

It switched to James, arms crossed and actually thinking about it. He pushed his glasses up his nose and laughed. “I don’t know, Finn and Leo? That seems like a weird Harzy thing.”

It cut to Finn. “That’s not weird. I wish it was me. I’ll convince Nut, don’t you worry.”

Pascal looked unimpressed, sitting easily in the chair. “There is only one person this could be, and that person spent the first two months of his time in the U.S. with only the phrases, You’re my only hope, and I’m your father, to his vocabulary. Oh, and the word no.”

Sunny was laughing. “I know exactly who this is.”

Nado looked pained. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve seen Star Wars now? Do you have any idea?”

Finally, the screen cut to Evgeni, smiling, tongue jokingly between his teeth. “Good for English, you know?” He held up his hands. “I am Force.”

The video ended with a swoop of the Lions’ logo, and even Sirius could help but smile. There was eight minutes left in the period.

Eight minutes to pull ahead.

They would do it.

The Stars had called a time out, and so James, Logan, and Finn were milling around the ice together, keeping their muscles warm. Leo was looping around the goal.

They were ready.

Seguin faced off against James, both of them leaning forward.

Seguin won it.

There was a fleury when James was pinned to the boards by Oleksiak, but Logan was there to steal the puck from beneath his feet.

The clock had dwindled down to four minutes when a whistle blew with a slashing penalty on the Stars. Pascal and Thomas joined James on the ice for the power play unit.

Sirius could feel the energetic restlessness of the crowd. They all knew what this could mean. Sirius let out a shaky breath and looked at the wrapper in his hands. He thought of Remus. Remus, and his long list of superstitions. But what pulled him through had been himself. Sirius held it anyway, but he held his Lions closer.

They were ready.

They set themselves up in a triangle, a tic-tac-toe, in front of the Stars’ goal. The sent it to each other quickly, boxing the defensemen in. Finally, James got it to Evgeni, who slapped it with a one timer and—

The goal horn. 00:24 seconds remaining.

The crowd was already singing with victory. The Stars tried for one last push, but Leo snatched the puck right out of the air with his glove.

00:03.

Done.

Sirius pushed his hands through his hair in relief. “Merde.”

Sirius was out of the box before anyone could even think about congratulating him, jogging down the private staircase and towards the locker room. He made it to the player’s hallway before he was stopped by a smiling Alice.

“I know, I know,” she said. “Can we just get a few questions in?” She gestured over to where Marlene was standing with a microphone, talking to a dark haired girl holding a camera. Alice raised an eyebrow. “It’s only Marlene.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

Alice patted his arm. “Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Sirius said and shoved his hands into his pockets while looking at Marlene expectantly.

“Okay, McKinnon, let’s go.”

Marlene scoffed. “Nice to see you, too. Hi Cap, how are you? Ribs, mind, in general.”

Sirius relaxed a little. If he had to do interviews, he preferred Marlene above all else. “I’m healing well. Ready to get back on the ice.”

Marlene narrowed her eyes at his short response and he smiled. That made her smile. Those were rare for the press, and she had just caught one.

“Any thoughts you want to share about how the majority of the world is responding to you lately? By my calculations, you’re quite the icon and inspiration—not that you weren’t before of course.”

Sirius laughed a little. “Oh yeah? Um,” he cleared his throat. When he looked up he could see Remus down the hall a little ways. He was talking to Kasey who was still fully dressed. Remus looked beautiful and strong and…And Sirius just… He hated questions like this but he just—

“Someone is always going to find something wrong with you,” Sirius said. “With what you say. With what you do. My job is not to please, you know? My job is to play hockey, sure, but, really, my job is to be the person I want to be, do the things I believe are right, do the things I love. With the people I choose to love. I think that’s everyone’s job,” Sirius found Remus beyond the cameras again, along with everything he had ever wanted. He looked back to Marlene. “That took me a long time to learn. They say, have a thick skin and an open heart. Before, all I had was a thick skin. Now, I’ve found someone who can help me have both. I didn’t even realize how much I needed that.”

“And that was an interview with a surprisingly heartfelt Captain Sirius Black,” Lee Jordan broke off in a laugh. “Earlier this game we also got to see him telling the cameras, show the game, show the game. Pointing down at the ice. Outstanding. That’s a layer of the Captain that I don’t think we see very often. From what I hear, the dude’s funny, though, Dean. Now, let’s take a look at the Lions’ top scorers. With the Captain out, that would be Logan Tremblay, James Potter, and, that’s right, one of the oldest in the league, Pascal Dumais…”

“What is that?” Remus said, appearing in front of Sirius where he was waiting in the PT room and drawing his attention away from the television. Remus peered at his hands.

“Oh,” Sirius felt himself flush as he looked down at the cupcake wrapper, more like a tiny ball of oily paper now. “I was holding this when Logan scored, so…”

Remus laughed. “So, you had to hold it the entire period. And now it’s practically falling apart. You’re not keeping that.”

“But it—” Remus grinned as Sirius surrendered the wrapper. “Fine.”

“Hey,” Remus said, and Sirius looked up. Remus was flushed from the game, eyes bright with the win. He leaned up and kissed him hotly, then softly. Sirius had to blink a few times when he pulled away.

“You always had an open heart,” Remus said. “That’s obvious to anyone who knows you. Who loves you.”

Sirius smiled. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Someone cleared their throat. “Sorry…”

They looked up to see Kasey, now in just some basketball shorts. “Hi.”

“Hey, Bliz, I’m ready for you,” Remus said, then looked up at Sirius. “I can get the subway back if you wanna go home to Regulus.”

“Non, non, I’ll wait,” Sirius said, and bumped fists with Kasey on his way out.

Remus smiled after him for a moment, then at Kasey. “So, thigh?”

Kasey nodded, eyes shifting downward, then back to Remus again. “Yeah.”

Remus paused, brows drawing together. “Kasey, are you—”

“Hey, Kase?” Natalie appeared in the doorway. She had her long blonde hair drawn back in two dutch braids and a Blizzard jersey on over a gray sweatshirt with the hood spilling out. Her smile wasn’t as bright as usual.

“Hi, Remus,” she said. “Baby, I’m gonna go say hi to Marlene. Just text me when you’re all set okay?”

“Hi, Nat,” Remus said slowly.

Kasey nodded, accepting a kiss on the cheek. “Okay.”

He hopped up on the table and lay on his back while Remus got ready.

“Just the thigh that’s bothering you?” Remus said carefully. He pushed Kasey’s shorts up his thigh to get at the tense muscle and carefully began kneading the muscles. The post-game played softly on the television while Remus waited for Kasey to speak.

“Will it always be like this, Loops?” Kasey asked quietly after a few moments.

Remus looked up at where Kasey was reclining on the padded table with his fingers across his chest. Remus, if he was being honest with himself, had been waiting to have this conversation with Kasey for a while.

Kasey looked back at him. “It acts up more often than not. I can’t play if I can go down, I…I can’t—”

“I know,” Remus said softly. “I know, Kase. Look.” Remus moved down to his knee, smoothing the muscle firmly. “This injury…it’s a tough one. It takes a long time to heal. It takes time and endurance. So, my answer is no. It won’t always be like this. It just takes time.”

“What if I don’t have time?” Kasey’s voice was even quieter. “I’m a goalie. Sometimes we have less—”

“Kase,” Remus looked at him. “You’re twenty six years old. You do.”

Kasey groaned as Remus pressed his knee out to the side, loosening the muscle slowly. “Fuck.”

“We’ll do some strength training next practice, okay? We’ll make a schedule, I’ll work with you. And we have a day off tomorrow. I’ll send you some videos to do at home if you want, or you can rest.” Remus smiled a little. “Or Natalie can help you stretch.”

Kasey smiled and it seemed easier. “When you say stretch…”

Remus laughed. “That’s the point. Look, you will heal, but you also have to enjoy the rest of your life. Hockey’s everything, and not everything at the same time. I’m gonna give you some salve, okay? And then you’ll be good for the night. Rest.”

Kasey nodded. “How’s Cap doing?”

“He’s okay,” Remus said, warming up the muscle salve between his palms. “Wants to be out there with you guys.”

“We want him there,” Kasey sat up on his elbows and watched Remus’s hands. “What about baby Black?”

Remus snorted. “Good. I mean, happy he’s here. The whole Snake runaway thing is sort of up in the air. The Snakes have their lawyers on his ass about his contract, and Minnie thinks he might have to go public with some pretty horrific stories to prove that they breached it.”

“Horrific stories…”

Their eyes met somberly. “I know.”

“Jesus,” Kasey sighed as he sat up. He pushed his hair out of his face and looked down at his leg. “That feels better. I…I feel better.”

“Good. Try and stay off it as much as you can, okay? Nat loves you to death, don’t tell me she won’t get you what you need.”

“Oh, she will,” Kasey smiled and eased himself carefully off the table. “Thanks, Loops.”

“Bliz,” Remus said, and Kasey turned to look back. “You have time and life and everything else. Really.”

Kasey nodded. He smiled a serious sort of smile. “You’re right. I get in my head.”

“You’re a goalie. That’s part of the job.”

Kasey laughed, flipped him off, and closed the door behind him.

Sirius was waiting for him on one of the couches in the player’s lounge, eyes closed and beanie on his head. His shoulders looked broad in his dark winter coat and suit.

“Hi, handsome,” Remus said, leaning over Sirius with his hands resting against the back of the couch on either side of his head.

Sirius’ eyes opened and he smiled. “Salut.”

“Ready to go home?”

“Regulus says he’s out with Leo. Day off and all that,” Sirius tilted his chin up, silently asking. “House to ourselves.”

Remus pushed himself back upright. “Let’s go.”

“I’m glad Regulus had Leo,” Remus said as he stood in Sirius’ massive but mostly empty closet. He picked out one of Sirius’ t-shirts and sweatpants and pulled them on. “They’re both eighteen and both have a lot of pressure to deal with, even if it’s, you know, different pressure. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, I’m happy,” Sirius said as he came back into the bedroom from the bathroom. His torso looked lean in his his sweatpants, the bruising finally faded. "And thankful to Leo. He didn’t have to reach out, you know?” Sirius collapsed onto the bed with a smile, bouncing a little. “Now, let’s stop talking about my brother.”

“Nope, no bed yet. Come on.”

“Loops.”

“You want to play next week, you do this with me now. Let’s go.”

Sirius let Remus wrangle him downstairs and into the gym. Sirius put on some music and then Remus lay him out in just his sweatpants on a soft mat and led him through the breathing exercises and some of the light core work that was on his recovery plan. Sirius kept his eyes on Remus the entire time, the two of them laughing as his hands wandered to Remus’ hips. Remus had to admit that, now that Sirius wasn’t in pain, watching him spread out on the mat like this got him. His softly moving chest, his hard muscles, the shadowed curl of his hair on his temples. He let it get him, there in the privacy of Sirius’ basement. Sirius noticed.

He smiled the next time he raised up in a crunch, abs working, hands behind his head. “Maybe I could use some incentive.”

Remus raised an eyebrow from where he was by Sirius’ bent knees. “Oh?”

Sirius pushed up and held there until Remus bent so he could kiss Remus lightly, then lowered back down.

The next time he came up, he brought Remus down with him. He parted his knees so Remus could settle between them. Sirius’ chest was warm from the exercise, his heartbeat even. Remus sighed into his kisses.

“We should go easy, we have the party at Pascal’s tomorrow—”

“I’m perfect,” Sirius said, and rolled them gently so that Remus was on his back now, Sirius hovering over him. “I feel perfect. I want you so bad.”

It had been a bit of a challenge. They’d been on strict no-sex orders, given to them rather sheepishly by Sirius’ doctor while he was still in the hospital. It had been a lot of Remus trying to sneak a quick jack-off in the shower, trying not to make things harder on Sirius, only to come out of the shower to a glowering, turned-on boyfriend.

Getting the all clear had been spine-melting, and it had sort of been that way ever since. Still, sex was few and far in between. Regulus was in the house more often than not, and even if it was a big house, Remus didn’t think it was the best idea to invite him to stay only to sneak off to Sirius’ bedroom.

Regulus had received the message quickly though, and told them clearly enough when he would be out for a while.

Remus shuttered when Sirius’ hardening cock dragged across his own.

“Fuck, are we really doing this in the gym?” Remus panted out a laugh. He was already so turned on that it ached. His dick pressed insistently against the band of his sweatpants, and when Sirius next dragged his hips down, the loose fabric pulled away to expose the shiny head of his cock. Remus moaned. “Sirius, fuck…fuck, I—”

“No lube,” Sirius said. “Shit, I…”

Remus just pushed Sirius’ sweatpants down over his ass, making his cock fall free, bobbing and stiff, and tugged his own sweatpants down until his hips and thighs were exposed. Remus pushed their hips together, mouth open. It was plenty wet, Sirius cock already beginning to shine at the head.

Sirius fucked his hips forward steadily against Remus, the friction making him squeeze his eyes shut. Remus felt Sirius’ lips against his neck, and wrapped his arms around him. He felt sort of frantic with it, lazily happy with how much he loved this.

“Love you,” he murmured as Sirius pushed forward with a well-aimed thrust. “Fuck, baby, yeah…”

“Not bad for a core workout,” Sirius said into his skin.

Remus laughed, even as pleasure sparked at the edges of his vision. His cock felt heavy and sensitive against his stomach.

“Don’t overdo it,” Remus said. “Here.”

Remus pushed at Sirius’ shoulders until Sirius groaned and rolled onto his back.

“I’m fi—”

His complaints died on his tongue when Remus pressed up all along his side, cock trapped between them, and wrapped a hand around Sirius. He kept his strokes even and tight, running his fingers down over his full balls, the vein on the underside. Sirius was hot in his hand, precome thin and leaking over the back of Remus’ hand. Remus kissed Sirius, tongue sliding into his mouth, and more heat trickled over his fingers. Remus felt like he could come just like that. It was almost—surreal. He was so turned on, especially for not even having done that much. He had just been taking Sirius through his exercises one moment, and then Sirius had taken him between his thighs and he was done for.

“Re, let me,” Sirius breathed, and his fingers found his own cock for a moment before wrapping around Remus’ shoulders to reach behind him, rubbing over the swell of his ass.

Heat pooled in Remus stomach and made his hand stutter, gripping Sirius tighter. “Fuck, yes…”

Sirius’ fingers were soft and slow as they worked their way inside of Remus. It was a little dry, but Remus let his temple pitch forward onto Sirius’ chest as Sirius fingered him. He stroked Sirius slowly, dazed by the contrast between his own pale fingers and the darker, flushed skin of him. He wished he could see Sirius’ hand.

“There,” Remus gasped suddenly. “Ah—”

Sirius pressed him in gentle, slow strokes. It was different, being touched there and not his cock. Remus pushed into the feeling, his cock trapped and still between them. It wasn’t enough to do much except let Sirius’ fingers build a painfully slow pressure inside him. His eyes were lidded as he stroked Sirius’ cock until it was rock hard in his palm. He threw a leg over Sirius’ thighs so that Sirius could push into him deeper, finger curving against his prostate.

Remus just moaned.

“I’m gonna come soon, mon loup,” Sirius panted, hips straining up once, twice. “Loops—”

Remus sped up his hand, swiping his thumb over the swollen head, and then Sirius’ hips jerked. Come dripped lazily over Remus’ fingers, more and more of it, in thick white pulses. Remus’ dick throbbed at the sight, at Sirius’ fingers, tense from his orgasm, pressing hard inside of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them, gasping. His hand had stilled against the base of Sirius’ cock, and he could feel him pulsing there, cock throbbing through his orgasm. Sirius’ head had fallen back against the mat, his chest rising and falling quickly beneath Remus’ chest. It was a mess on his hips and Remus’ fingers.

“Fuck. Oh—” Sirius moaned as Remus started stroking him again. His cock strained valiantly, but it was spent and softening. “C’mere, Loops, fuck.”

Sirius turned into Remus, fingers twisting inside of him. It gave him a better angle, and when he moved next, he doubled down.

Remus could only hold onto his shoulders, pliant against the mat.

“Can you come like this, sweetheart?” Sirius said gently. “Just on my fingers?”

Remus already felt like he was coming. There was sweat on his temples and chest, and he felt Sirius’ kiss the salt away. His cock was taught against his stomach, an angry red now. Sirius stroked inside of him evenly, but in quicker time. Remus didn’t even have time to catch one breath before the next was stolen.

“I’m coming—” Remus said, but he knew he wasn’t. Not yet. But he was sure he was. He groaned and Sirius kissed his exposed throat, his back arched up, pressing down on him.

“C’mon, baby,” Sirius said. “Fuck, look at you.”

“I’m coming,” Remus said again, voice breaking, and the calloused pad of Sirius’ finger pressed against him hard, and then he really was. It tore out of him forever, spilling against Sirius’ tan skin. Sirius cradled Remus against him, saying soft things in French until Remus could open his eyes again. Sirius took Remus’ dick gently in his hand, easing a last shiver of pleasure from him. Remus smiled a little deliriously and curled closer to his warmth.

“Bath?” Sirius whispered.

“We gotta clean this,” Remus laughed. “Fuck, I feel like my brain is gone.”

“I’ll clean,” Sirius said, and tilted Remus’ head up for a kiss. “Go get the hot water going.”

That sounded fine to Remus.

Lily opened the door to Pascal’s house with Harry cradled in her arms.

“Sirius fucking Black I swear to god you triggered my labor.”

“You say that to me every time you see me.”

She stepped aside. “And will continue to do so.”

Remus stepped through the door first and took Harry from her, holding him close so that Sirius could press a kiss to one of his chubby cheeks. He wasn’t heavy, but Sirius wasn’t suppose to lift very much. Harry smiled at him and Remus watched as Sirius smiled back, murmuring in French.

“Where’s Regulus?” Lily asked.

Sirius shrugged, still making faces at Harry.

“Out with Leo,” Finn’s voice suddenly said. He was sitting on the couch with Logan tucked up against his side. “Yeah, uh-huh, Leo’s replacing us with your brother.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “That’s not true.”

Finn raised his eyebrows, as if to say he wasn’t so sure about that. Logan nudged his jaw with his nose until he pressed a light kiss to his lips. Remus smiled.

He could see the long road that was behind them and the long road ahead at the same time. It was better that way.

Most of the team was there. The living room had a huge banner that read Congratulations Logan! and beneath it a smaller one: for finally moving out of my basement!

Sirius laughed hard. “I didn’t get one of these!”

Pascal shook his head from where he was playing cards with Sergei. “I knew you would leave eventually. This one, I wasn’t so sure.”

“Hey,” Logan groaned.

Remus laughed and snapped a picture of Sirius in front of it.

“Can I have that for my instagram?” James asked.

“Baby, too much instagram, okay, I love you so much, but…” Lily winced.

“But I have a baby now,” James stood to Remus’ other side, and then Remus had two fully grown hockey players making baby talk surrounding him. “That’s what instagram’s for. Isn’t it, my little lion?”

Harry laughed delightedly at his father.

Kasey and Natalie were sitting on the couch beside Logan and Finn. Natalie had Kasey sitting between her legs on the floor, fingers running through his hair as she talked to them. Kasey seemed to be talking very seriously about something with Katie, who seemed to be wearing three princess dresses at the same time. She was sitting in his lap and he was nodding along, responding whenever she waited for him to.

Remus handed Harry back to Lily when they went into the kitchen to get drinks. Celeste was in the kitchen with Anya, and Thomas seemed to be helping, too, along with Noelle.

When Sirius said he was surprised to see her, she waved him off, taking a sip of her wine. “I’m the resident Tremblay sister representative. We were all pretty worried about Lolo for a minute there, but…” she smiled. “If only we knew. Not one boy, but two. Plus,” she looked over at Thomas, who was focusing intently on what Celeste was saying and stirring on the stove. “I have my own reasons.”

“Talkie’s a good one,” Remus said. “You lucked out there.”

“Right?” Noelle laughed, then nodded at Sirius. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Remus and Sirius said at the same time.

Noelle laughed again, and then her expression became more mild. “And…” she looked towards the living room, where they could distinctly hear Logan’s laugh. “I know none of this was easy for you two, but I’m happy you were there for my brother. Maybe not in the way you wanted to be…in the way any of us wanted…but you showed him it was okay to be who he is. I think Finn would have gotten to him eventually but I think it would have taken a lot longer. I’m glad he’s happy now. And that’s largely thanks to you two.”

“The delicious smells of success,” Thomas suddenly sang out, slightly off-key. “Breathe in the delicious smells of success, hey, Christmas, come over here and look at this goodness.”

Noelle laughed. “Oh, I’m already looking at it.” She sent Remus and Sirius a last smile. “Anyway, I said my piece.”

Remus laughed as she returned to Thomas’ side, tucking herself against him.

“That was sweet,” he said and rubbed his hand gently over Sirius’ chest, sort of out of habit by now. He could feel the bandages there.

Sirius kissed Remus’ temple. “Yeah.”

“Sirius, mon cher,” Celeste kissed Sirius’ cheek when she came over from the stove. “You are okay? Of course you are, Remus is with you. No more big empty house and take out meals, oui?”

Sirius laughed. “Way to sell me out.”

Remus snorted. “Like everyone didn’t already know.”

Celeste laughed. “C’est vrai.” She sighed, patting Sirius’ chest, near his ribs. “I am still so angry about Grayback, honestly.”

“Aren’t we all,” Pascal said, coming over. Celeste wrapped an arm around him.

“You and me both,” Sirius said, taking a sip of his wine. “But it’s over. I have to let it be over or else I’ll go insane.”

“You’ll be back out there soon,” Pascal said.

Sirius smiled. “Only thanks to Loops.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “It’s you who does the hard part.”

Pascal laughed. “As if getting this boy to do what he’s told isn’t the hard part.”

Remus laughed. “Hm, true.”

“Celeste, the goodness looks ready to me,” Thomas called over from the stove.

Celeste laughed and leaned back towards the doorway to the living room.

“Dinner, everyone!” she called.

It only took a few moments for the kitchen to become crowded with people lining up with their plates.

“Hey,” Evgeni bee-lined between them for the wine bottle, but stopped on the way to give Remus a kiss on both cheeks. “Get Captain laid, no more grumpy.”

“Kuny,” Remus said.

Nado, behind him as always, cracked up. Sirius laughed, too.

“Merde, Kuns,” he said. “Subtle.”

“Very,” Regulus’ wry voice suddenly said from behind them as he and Leo entered the kitchen.

“Just in time!” Celeste said, handing them both plates. “Where have you boys been?”

Leo shrugged. “Just—hi, sweetheart,” he cut off as Finn wrapped his arms around his waist. “Just touring around Gryf. Got lunch.”

“Yeah, Sid’s is the best,” Regulus said.

Sirius spluttered mid way through serving himself dinner. “I told you that.”

“So?”

“So, you believe Leo and not me?”

Leo grinned. Regulus shrugged.

Remus spent most of dinner holding baby Harry and watching Sirius tickle his tummy while he laughed. James looked ready to cry at the sight. Lily took him back to be fed when they moved to sit around the living room with dessert, but Remus didn’t mind. He just leaned back into Sirius’ chest, happy with his team around him.

Logan looked red in the face from all the jokes implying why he was so eager to move in with Leo and Finn. Adele had stuck close to him all evening, sitting on his free side. Logan had his arm around her. Remus had overheard him assuring her that he’d be over to visit all the time, which he thought was unbearably sweet. Leo looked resigned and amused to the teasing, and Finn just looked thoroughly pleased, sitting between them with an arm around each.

Remus felt a kiss being placed on his neck.

“Maybe we could celebrate more than one move tonight,” Sirius said into Remus’ ear.

Remus held Sirius’ arms across his chest, turning to look at him. “What?”

Sirius just smiled and pulled Remus out of the living room and into the butler’s pantry of the kitchen. He took Remus’ hands in his warm ones. “You should move in with me.”

Remus took a slow breath in.

Sirius slid his hands up Remus’ forearms. “I want you to move in with me.”

“Baby…”

“Besides,” Sirius smiled. “Your mom will be coming to town soon with any luck,” Sirius knocked gently on the wooden cupboard behind Remus’ head with a smile. “Better not to disappoint her.”

Remus laughed, reaching up to press his hands to Sirius’ cheeks. “Better not.”

Sirius leaned down to nudge their noses together. “Live with me. You sort of already do, and I…I love it so much. I love having you near.”

Remus nodded. “Yes.” He kissed him once, and again, and again. “Yeah, I want to.”

Sirius smiled into their next kiss, and that was how Logan found them.

“Alors,” he said, hands up. “Sorry. Just got sent in for some more wine. God knows I need it.”

Remus flushed and laughed as Logan reached down for a bottle from the wine fridge.

“Carry on.”

“Oops,” Sirius snorted when they were alone again.

“I’ll have to get a car,” Remus mused as Sirius hugged him against his chest. Sirius lived just outside the city center. “No more subways and city walking from out here.”

“I’ll buy you whatever car you want.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Sirius squeezed him closer. “It’s what I said. I want to. What else do you want? Tell me.”

Remus smiled and tilted his chin up to look at him. “You.”

It had been hard, saying goodbye to Sirius for the short road trip to Vegas. It was strange going without him.

“Force him to keep doing his exercises,” Remus had told Regulus firmly.

“Will do,” Regulus saluted.

“Miss you already,” Sirius had said softly when he dropped Remus off at departures.

“Just a few days,” Remus kissed his across the seats, and then kissed his new star necklace. “They’ll win.”

“Shh,” Sirius laughed gently.

Remus just smiled. “You’ll see."

Remus was in the visitor’s PT room, making sure it was well-stocked. Just in case. Moody was already in there, leaning against the table and watching the pre-game. He greeted Remus with a nod, and Remus pulled out a box of supplies to sort through while listening.

“—first time the Lions will be on the ice with Fenrir Grayback who, as we all know, received a two game suspension after a hard hit on Lions Captain Sirius Black, breaking four of his ribs. We know that the Lions organization was especially not happy about the lack of severity shown by the League. I suppose we may see what the players have to say about this tonight. I expect the Lions will push especially hard for a win in honor of their wounded Captain—not to mention that winning this game would secure them a spot in this year’s Stanley Cup play-offs. Marc-André Fleury is back with his rainbow stick tape, his second time showing support for Black. It’s nice to see. Let’s take a look at who else we’re watching tonight. First, we’ll talk about Logan Tremblay…”

“One game,” Moody grumbled. “One game.”

“One game,” Remus repeated. “Sirius really wanted to be out there tonight.”

“I don’t think Grayback knows what’s coming for him now that he isn’t,” Moody laughed gruffly. “You saw those boys when he took Sirius out. They’re fresh out of a day-off now. Rested, furious, determined.” Moody tilted his head. “I feel good things in my leg.”

Remus laughed. “Well, thank God.”

Sirius was sitting with his brother on the large, leather couch in his TV den, anxious and waiting for the second period to resume. The commercials were muted and he was waiting for Regulus to work his way up towards saying whatever it was that he was holding back. Sirius could tell there was something.

“Your house is ridiculous,” Regulus said around his Chinese takeout—not for the first time.

“I was young,” Sirius said defensively. “I thought buying a house like this was, like, required.”

“Stupide,” Regulus snorted.

“—a nasty hit on Finn O’Hara by Ryan Reaves, but he seems okay,” the commentator said, replaying the hit, and Sirius tensed. He didn’t need a replay of that. They cut back to commercials again.

“Do you think they can actually force me to go back?” Regulus said suddenly.

When Sirius looked over he was poking mildly at his noodles.

“I won’t let them do that.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You’re Sirius Black, not God.”

“I won’t let them do that,” Sirius said again. “Tu comprends? I will not. And Minnie won’t either.”

“Maman says—”

Sirius sat up. “You’ve been talking to her?”

“I have to sometimes,” Regulus grumbled. “Legal stuff. Minnie’s always there.”

“It doesn’t matter what she says. She is—”

“Yes, I know what she is,” Regulus snapped. “I’ve been living with her—until a few months ago, in case you forgot.” He glowered around the room. “While you were in your big fancy house…”

Sirius blinked. “Reg…”

“I’m not—mad at you. I was, but I’m not. I mean, I’m doing what you did, aren’t I? Making a better life, damn the consequences?” Regulus sighed. “There are other Snakes who want out, you know.”

Sirius sat up. “Like…witnesses? Reg, you could compile a case.”

“They’re worried they’ll never get back into the League,” Regulus said. “I’m trying, but…I don’t know, Sirius.”

Sirius’ heart ached. He looked down at his chicken and rice. “I wish I could tell you what to do.”

Regulus looked at him, gray on gray, and nodded. “I know.” He glanced at the TV. “We’re back.”

Sirius secretly liked that. Looking at the Lions play with his brother, and hearing him say we.

“O’Hara didn’t need any help getting up, even if he looked a little rattled. Now, speaking from experience, I don’t know about you, Lee, but I was waiting for O’Hara’s line mate, Logan Tremblay to have something to say about it…Tremblay did not challenge Reaves, though.”

They were lining up for puck drop, James at the center against—

Grayback.

“You know, Dean, I think that’s a testament to these young Lions, really all the Lions. They call them the cubs, you know. You can tell how much they want this. They band together, they listen, they work…I think it’s pretty rare to see such fine communication in an entire team.”

Grayback won the face off.

“Fuck,” Regulus breathed.

Sirius wished he was there, standing beside Remus, on the bench, jumping the boards—anything. Instead, he was sitting on the couch, eating take-out. Helpless.

The entire first period, and the majority of this one had been back and forth. The score was still 0-0. They were fighting. Hard. Fenrir passed it to Tuch, who knocked it over to Engelland. Engelland took a hard shot, and Leo caught it in his glove.

“Another amazing save by Knut,” Dean said. “Rookie goal tender Leo Knut has blocked 29 shots in this game so far, most of them with his glove. I love seeing that sort of technique from the younger players, you know?”

“Absolutely Dean. And it looks to me like Coach Weasley is giving the Blizzard, Kasey Winter, a nice long rest as he looks ahead to hopefully a long and successful playoff run.”

Sirius leaned forward as play started up again. Evgeni barreled against Reaves and Fenrir, evading a two-on-one with a slick pass to Nado. It was hard hockey—it looked a little like play-off hockey. Brutal, hard-hitting, and determined.

It stayed like that until half way through the third.

“Fucking hell,” Regulus said. “How does this game still have no score?”

Sirius shook his head. His heart was in his throat. He had texted Remus at the second intermission.

Boys are fired as hell, Remus had said. Good feelings. They don’t even seem tired.

Harzy okay? he had said.

Yes. Then, a minute later. Boasting that you’re checking on him XD

That reassurance was the only thing keeping Sirius sane.

“We have to break their defense,” Sirius was half watching the battle on the ice and half running through plays in his mind. The clock read twelve minutes.

Sirius could have laughed. He pressed his necklace pendant between his palms, his steepled fingers against his mouth. He wasn’t religious. He just wanted this. For all of them.

Pascal’s line was out.

“Come on Dumo,” Sirius said.

Sirius watched Pascal and Fenrir line up for the face off with tense shoulders. He waited, and waited, and then the referee was straightening again, looking at Pascal and pointing away.

“Fuck,” Sirius cursed. “He’s kicking Dumo out of the circle.”

“I wonder what he said.”

Sirius silently begged Pascal to be careful.

Brady took Pascal’s place. He won the face off, and Sirius and Regulus shouted.

He passed it easily to Pascal, who dragged it along the boards.

“What’s he going so slow for?” Regulus demanded, fist hitting the couch.

Sirius only saw what was coming next because of the TV angle.

Pascal had his head down, and Fenrir was skating hard towards him on the ice.

Sirius and Regulus were on their feet in a second, shouting at the television. They couldn’t warn him.

Sirius couldn’t even breathe properly. It seemed to go on in slow motion, all of it. Pascal, his—his father, really, his protector. The man who had taken him right from under his mother’s grasp. Pascal who knew him better than anyone. Maybe even Remus.

Fenrir was obviously going in for the hit. He was probably confident that he could get away with it again. Just like he had with Remus. With Sirius. If he so much as touched Dumo—

But he underestimated Pascal Dumais just like had last time.

Pascal, puck on his stick, let Fenrir get closer, and closer, and then deked right. He spun on his right blade harshly and kicked off the boards like a goalie did on a goal post. The effect was that he went rocketing out of the way, right towards the Golden Knights’ goal, and Fenrir slammed into the boards with his own full-force.

The game didn’t pause for him. It only stopped when the goal lit up red as Pascal shot a clean line into the top left corner of the net.

Six minutes and three seconds remaining. 1-0, Lions. The Lions bench was on their feet, sticks banging against the boards as Pascal skated down for glove taps. The TV showed his familiar face, smiling. He looked into the camera for a moment, and Sirius swore Pascal was looking right at him.

He won’t get you again, the look said. Pascal tussled Remus’ hair with his glove. Or any of us.

Six minutes felt like six hours, longer and longer with each one of Leo’s saves. They showed his face during an offside whistle. He tilted his helmet up for some water. His blonde hair was darkened and drenched with sweat, but his blue eyes were fierce. He tapped his mask back down, and went back into a crouch. Sirius had never been so proud of Leo fucking Knut.

Shots were traded ferociously, the puck practically bouncing between the zones. Leo saved it with his blocker, a few bouncing off of his helmet, some dangerously close to his neck guard. He pushed off one post and dropped into a full split, the puck sliding snugly against his pad until he scooped it up like a hawk.

“Fucking hell, Leo,” Regulus mumbled.

“Right,” Sirius said. “Merde.”

Three minutes. James had four shots that very nearly went in. Logan had five close-calls. They were panting on the bench, squirting cold water down their necks, but they were keeping the score. They were protecting their lead.

Two minutes.

The Golden Knights pulled their goalie, the net was empty, and still no one scored again.

When the buzzer finally sounded, Sirius was breathing like he was on the ice, too.

The bench exploded, spilling out onto the ice. Finn threw his gloves into the air right before Logan crashed into him.

They had won the game with one goal, and three periods of sheer will-power.

Sirius hugged Regulus hard. He watched as his boys jumped on each other against the boards, knocking Leo’s helmet for his shut-out and grinning. They were clinched.

They were going to the playoffs.

#sweater weather #lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove sweater weather #coops #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #lumosinlove oc #lumosinlove ocs #o'knutzy #Thomas walker #Kasey winter #harry potter #Harry Potter fic

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hanoella · 3 years ago

Text

Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 8)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence, PTSD, PG-17 Romantic Content (oooooh), talk of sex

Part 8 Word Count: Just under 8k

A/N: It's starting to heat uppppppp👀. I always sort and curate the music so that you can listen to the music as you read the story and match the tone, starting from where I insert the song. Unfortunately, tumblr is being idiotic, and now I can't post the songs to play in-app for some reason. Sorry guys😭 If you haven't given it a try, I highly recommend!

Once again, thank you for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful.

Taglist!: @vicmc624 @officiallykuute @undiadeestos @tailsoflightning @buckys2thicc @mischief-siriusly-managed

Winter

Bucky looked in the mirror nervously, mussing his hair up. It was a bit longer than when he had first come to Louisiana, and he had been overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices when it came to men’s hair products. He thought it looked okay, using the man on the front of the packaging as reference. It was a good thing you two were taking your car. He wasn’t sure if his work would’ve survived the motorcycle helmet. Glancing over the rest of his ensemble, he gave himself a nod of assurance. It was concert weekend, and also the day you were going on your first date. After contemplating on when to go, you had suggested a late night dinner after that weeks second concert and Bucky had thought it was a fine idea at the time. Though, now, he realized that he would have to sit through the concert first.

He picked up the bouquet of flowers he had gotten with the hair product the other day and headed to the door. Before leaving, he bent down to pet a sleepy Alpine, who was currently dozing peacefully in the last rays of the sun for the day.

“Wish me luck.” He said to the cat, who purred in response.

He left and crossed the driveway to your house. Knocking on your screen door, he waited expectantly.

“Come in!” He heard you call from inside.

He opened the screen door and crossed the threshold. He’d done it plenty of times before, but this time felt different. Seeing that the living room and kitchen were empty, he headed down the hall to your bedroom, where the light was filtering out of. Cautiously opening the door, he saw you sitting at the vanity, dressed in your typical rehearsal outfit of a blouse and slacks, and putting on the final touches to your makeup. You blinked to adjust to the mascara and turned towards him, a smile spreading across your cheeks.

“Hey!” You stood up to hug him and then take him in. “You look great, Buck.”

“Thanks, you too.” He replied, still coming across rather stiff from the nervousness. You looked up at him, slightly amused but keeping it to yourself. After a moment of gazing at your features that were complemented by the makeup you had just put on, Bucky cleared his throat and gifted you the bouquet.

“Oh, these are beautiful. Thank you so much.” You said as you admired the large white peonies, accented by bundles of pink hydrangeas and various types of eucalyptus. A green satin bow held the stems together as you felt the velvety petals between your fingertips. You grabbed his hand afterwards and squeezed it as you held the bouquet to your chest. “Thank you,” you repeated as you looked up at him. Bucky felt slightly more at ease, giving you a small but genuine smile.

“Of course.”

You set the bundle down gently before going over to your bed and unzipping the garment bag and holding the dress out for him to see.

“Is this too much to wear for the concert and then dinner? I figured I’d dress a little simpler so I don’t stand out too much at the restaurant.”

Bucky stepped closer and touched the luxurious navy blue fabric. The dress was cut so that it had a slight halter neckline, exposing minimal shoulder. It wasn’t until he saw the bottom end of the dress that he caught a glimpse of what you normally liked to wear. Flowers and greenery adorned the bottom half of the skirt, detailed in such a way that it looked like they had been painted right on the dress. The soft pastel brushstrokes formed rounded petals and long wispy leaves.

“It’ll look great on you.” He said with affection in his tone. “But you don’t have to change anything for me. All the gowns that you wore before looked great too, but what really makes them is the fact that you’re wearing them.”

It was your turn to blush, turning slightly to try and hide the pink on your face. You thanked him softly before excusing yourself to the kitchen to get a vase for the flowers. As you were filling the vase with water, you held your hand to your cheek in an effort to cool down your face. Coming back to your room, you put the flowers in water and turned to Bucky, who had sat himself down on the edge of the bed.

“Ready to go?”

---

Bucky sat on the green velvet couch in your dressing room, reading something on his phone as he listened to the rustling behind the room divider behind him.

“How do I look?” You asked, coming out from behind the divider and into the room. You were dressed in the gown from earlier, now with black flats and earrings that mimicked flower petals falling in the wind. You had decided on a more romantic look for your hair, settling on large loose waves, one side pinned back with a dainty silver bar clip.

He couldn’t help but smile.

“Beautiful.”

Who knew one word could give you such a fluttering in your stomach.

“Thank you.”

You sat next to him, folding one leg underneath of you and leaning against the couch, facing him.

“Are you going to be okay up in that box all by your lonesome?” you teased, reaching across and grabbing the tips of his fingers with yours.

“I hope so. I’ve got a date tonight.” He replied playfully. He always felt so warm, so comforting. You looked at him with affection before your eyes flitted to the clock behind him.

“I should probably get to the stage.” You sighed while you said it, reluctantly starting to get up and pull your hand away. Before you could completely escape his grasp, he squeezed your hand slightly.

“You’ll do great. See you after?” His look was slightly reminiscent of a puppy. You smiled wistfully and squeezed his hand back.

“See you after.”

You separated in the hall, you going one way to the stage and him going the other way to the box. Before he stepped inside, he realized he didn’t have a program. He made his way to the front and found an usher with a stack of programs.

“Can I have one of those?” He asked, coming off slightly more gruffly than he meant to.

“Sure, sir.” The usher handed him one and Bucky thanked him before turning. Halfway down the hall, he picked up the whispering of another usher who had come up to the one that had the programs.

“Is that Ms. Novikov’s boyfriend?”

“No way, is that who that was?”

“He always sits in her own personal box. It has to be.”

Boyfriend. Such a funny word. Bucky hadn’t been anyone’s boyfriend in decades. It almost felt silly to be dating somebody. It was like someone blowing all of their money on something they couldn’t afford. It felt reckless to invest so much feeling and time and emotion when he had so little of those things on his own. Yet, what little he had, he gladly spent on you.

“He is so hot. I would just let him-“

Bucky’s eyes widened as he heard several terms he didn’t understand. Clearing his throat, he walked a little faster back to the box.

---

You had laughed so hard that you were crying as Bucky tried to repeat some of the stuff he had overheard. Deciding to check on him during intermission, you had popped up to the box for a minute. After complimenting you on your playing, having performed what Bucky thought to be amazingly, as you usually did, he couldn’t stop the face he had made as his mind thought back to the usher. Needing to sit down, you had sat in one of the seats in the box, doubled over in a combination of laughing and crying.

“It’s not that funny!” Bucky whisper-yelled at you, as you gasped for breath, face in hands. He turned around to see that the next several boxes were looking over to see what the commotion was. One particular look on an older woman’s shocked face made him turn around quickly and try not to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” He said again, though now he was obviously trying to hold back his own laugh, which just made you laugh even harder.

Starting to calm down, you leaned back onto the seat, still clutching your stomach. Letting out some deep breaths, a burst of giggles fell out of your mouth, evolving into full on laughter again.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You said, regaining some semblance and wiping your eyes carefully as to not ruin any makeup. “That is just hilarious. I love it.” You concluded as you sighed and closed your eyes.

“You are just… something else.” Bucky replied, a huge smile overcoming his face despite the fact that he was shaking his head. The lights flickered overhead to signal the end of the intermission. You got up, straightening out the skirt of your dress and giggling.

“You can meet me at the dressing room after.” You said, waving your fingers at him. He had the same smile on his face as he watched you sweep aside the curtains and disappear. As embarrassing as it was, Bucky was thankful that it had broken the ice, no longer leaving him feeling awkward, nervous in your presence. As he was turning back to face the front, Bucky made eye contact with the same old lady in the box next door. Quickly, he cleared his throat and settled in his seat, adjusting so that he was sitting up straighter.

Several minutes went by before the conductor came back out, followed by you. He gave his usual introduction of the piece, explaining the history and the background behind the melody they were about to hear. This one was another piano feature- this time by Chopin.

The opening note was long and forceful, followed by a back and forth of a set of notes on your left hand that quickly sped up into an impressive speed. Your right hand entered the melody, quickly flitting back and forth to the end of the keys. The quickening of the keys sounded desperate, like a hare running frantically to safety from the jaws of a predator.

Both of your hands ran down from the higher keys to the low ones, somehow managing to hit very precisely on each intended note on the way down. Once in the lower octaves, the melody slowed. Your hand movements were graceful, body language and tone changing to one of peace. You spent some time exploring the gentle melody, conveying a feeling similar to the quiet after the storm. Just as Bucky expected the end of the melody, what would’ve been a period in the phrase of the major key, turned into a comma. The minor key from before took control of the music once more, somehow more desperate than before. The pace of your breathing sped up as you put more force behind the fleeting notes. The minor key evolved into a more complex intertwining of notes before unraveling into a major key once again, saying its last words and taking its last breath before dissipating into the auditorium.

Applause burst forth from the crowd, conveying more than Bucky could ever put into words about how incredible your performance was. How incredible you were. Still catching your breath, you stood at the conductor’s prompting, stealing a glance at Bucky, who was standing as he clapped, before bowing in acceptance of the praise.

---

After the concert, he drove you to New Orleans. At the restaurant, you were sat at a table on the edge of the dining room behind a low privacy partition. It was dimly lit, the small candle in the middle of the table creating a very intimate atmosphere. You sat across from each other at the two-person table, browsing the menu. Yours was laid flat on the table as you leaned over it, resting your chin on your clasped hands. Bucky’s was held up, serving as a way for him to sneak glances at you. The candlelight gave your hair an ever-moving sheen. It was nothing compared to how it lit the color of your eyes as you met his eye and smiled.

The romantic piano music played softly in the background as he set the menu down and let a gentle smile overtake his features. Your eyelids slowly lowered. You loved the little crow’s feet that appear by his eyes when he genuinely smiled.

“How’d I do on the first date setting?” You asked. The cozy restaurant had been your pick.

“You hit it out of the park. It’s very nice.” Bucky replied, leaning in a little closer so that he could cross his arms slightly onto the table.

“Isn’t it? There’s a few of them across the country. I used to at the one in New York while I went to Julliard. Can you guess what I did?” You chuckled as you pointed your head in the direction of the live piano music coming from the stage.

“Hmm… Dishwasher? No wait, valet?”

Bucky lives for the smile that comes across your face when you try not to laugh at his antics.

“Absolutely. Always wanted to be a valet. It’s my dream job.” You joked back with a twinkle in your eye. The waiter came up to the table, causing you both to lean slightly back. After introducing themselves and setting two glasses of water down, they asked for your drink order. Bucky nodded for you to go first, ever the gentleman. You turned your head towards the waiter, your gaze lingering on Bucky before giving full attention towards them as you spoke.

“What are some of the best whiskeys you have to recommend?”

Bucky could’ve spit out his water. This place could not be cheap. His suspicions were confirmed as the waiter started listing off various whiskeys that were at least a decade old. About three whiskeys into the list, you saw Bucky tilt his head out of the corner of your eye. Glancing at him, you raised your eyebrows as if to ask if he was interested. He raised his eyebrows and gave a small nod.

“We’ll have that one please.” You said, stopping the waiter when he finished the description. You had selected the sixteen year old single malt with notes of plums, apricots, white truffles, honey, dark chocolate, and hazelnuts. As soon as the waiter turned around, Bucky leaned in and gave you a look of incredulousness.

“Doll, I am all for the finer things in life but that whiskey has got to be a pretty penny.”

You leaned in as well, with a dreamy look on your face.

“Well, if it gets you to call me ‘doll’ then I’ll buy the whole bottle.”

---

Bucky actually did end up liking it so much that you ordered a bottle to take home. He had tried to stop you from paying for it, but you insisted, saying this whole date was on you.

“Just pay for the next one. I picked the fancy place, so I should pay! Besides, you do so much for me all of the time.”

Eventually, he caved in and let you, the assurance of a second date placating him. Dinner had been equally as delicious and sprinkled with easy conversation. Dessert was set on the table with two spoons to share. The entire night was going wonderfully. At this point, with a few bites of dessert left, both of you were lounging while listening to the gentle music as he held your hand across the table.

A group was getting up from the table across the divider when one of them glanced over and recognized you.

“Irina Novikov!”

Your hand left Bucky’s instinctually as you looked in the direction of the voice. Easing when you realized it was a concert goer, you smiled as the group came over to your table.

“We just came from your performance, you did an excellent job. We’ve been coming all season and it’s wonderful to be able to talk to you in person.” A middle aged man said as the rest of his group nodded enthusiastically.

��The pleasure’s all mine. I’m so happy that you enjoy the music that we perform.” You said, shaking his hand.

“Would you, perhaps, be willing to sign our programs?”

“Absolutely.” You said, as you took the pen. You paused slightly before writing the signature. Bucky could tell that you hadn’t thought about it before- how to sign the new name. You signed everyone’s program, making sure to ask for their name and including a short thank you for their support.

“I look forward to seeing you in the audience the next time you’re able to visit.” You said as you handed back the last program and pen. They graciously thanked you and walked away, leaving you to look at Bucky, who was admiring you.

“What?” You asked, cheeks flushing.

“Nothing. You’re just so good to them. Does that happen often?”

“I try to be. I’m sure if I had more people always coming up to me I’d be less patient. To answer your question, it happens occasionally. It happened a lot in New York when I played with the symphony up there. But that was a long time ago.” You looked down wistfully, thinking of the past. Then, you looked up and grabbed his hand.

“But I’m pretty happy where I am now. Don’t doubt that.”

Bucky felt a fluttering in his chest.

After settling the bill and giving Bucky the bottle of whiskey, you put your coat on and held Bucky’s hand as you walked to out of the restaurant. On the way home, he drove as you hummed along to the radio, watching the road signs and the streetlights pass. Eventually the highway turned into main streets and main streets turned into side streets. Maybe if he drove slower, the night didn’t have to end.

Parking in the driveway, Bucky signaled for you to wait before he jogged around the front of the car, opening your door and holding out a hand.

“Oh, what a gentleman.” You laughed as you took his outstretched hand and stepped out of the car. Taking his arm, you let him walk you to your front door. You turned the key and opened the door, turning on the lights before facing him again.

“Well. This was wonderful. I had such a good time.” You said, hugging him around the neck. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

“Me too.”

You pulled back, letting your hands run down his arms and holding his hands in yours.

“I think it’s safe to say that there will be a second date.” You stated teasingly, squeezing his hands.

“I would say you’re right.” He said, boyish charm coming through. You wondered if this is what he was like back before the war. Smiling, you looked into his eyes.

“Thank you for taking me out. You’re so lovely to be with, and it feels unreal to be with you. I think I’ve wanted this for a long time.” Affection was laced throughout your tone.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something and nothing came out. He squeezed your hands once, as if to make sure you were real, and shook his head.

“You took the words right out of my mouth. That’s exactly how I feel about you.”

There was a slight pause before Bucky closed the gap between you. Your bottom lip was between his and you closed your eyes as your hands held his face to yours. You felt your fingertips scrape across his stubble as he held you in his arms, hands supporting your back as he deepened the kiss. After a few moments, you pulled back, a flush over your face and the cold air exposing your breathlessness. He let out a quiet breathy laugh and you did the same.

“You have… no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He said as he softly put his forehead to yours.

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” You repeated his phrase with amusement. Reluctantly, you took your arms from around his neck and trailed them down to his hands, grabbing both. You took a moment to appreciate how perfectly his hands felt in yours, vibranium and all.

“Goodnight, Buck.”

He squeezed your hands lightly before slowly letting go of your hands.

“Goodnight.”

Putting his hands in his pockets, he waited for you to exit the house, reciprocating your wave as you softly shut the door. Letting out a deep breath, he walked leisurely across the driveway and up to his apartment. He loosened his tie with one hand as he greeted Alpine with the other. She followed at his heels as he got ready for bed, hopping up onto his chest when he finally laid down. Curling up into a ball, she purred as he scratched her neck. Alpine fell asleep almost immediately, but Bucky lay awake, the image of you laughing at something he said across the candlelit table occupying the forefront of his thoughts.

---

The second date had to be rescheduled due to business that Sam and Bucky had to take care of, once again, in D.C. Reluctantly, he had texted you to reschedule.

Have to go to DC tonight with Sam… Go out when we come back?

Bucky watched the bubble type.

If you don’t want to go out again, just say so

He felt like vomiting.

KIDDING! Of course we can.

Taking a deep breath, he typed out a reply.

Not funny. Almost gave me a heart attack. You gonna be okay for a few days?

I’ll be fine, just take care of yourself and be safe, please.

Will do, doll.

A little heart emoji you sent back made Bucky smile before he tucked his phone away and boarded the plane.

---

After a few days of cut-and-dry investigation, they were done by Saturday night. Since they were flying commercially, they had one more evening to kill before the next flight. Bucky was standing idly outside of the crowded comic book store that Sam was currently in. AJ had called Uncle Sam, asking if he could check for a specific volume of a comic that he liked. Happy to oblige, Bucky had told Sam that they could make the stop. Though, once seeing how crowded it was, Bucky opted to stay outside. Feeling a buzz in his pocket, he took out his phone to see a text from you pop up on his home screen. You had sent him a picture of Alpine curled up on the bed next to the dress you were going to perform in.

Alpine has approved my dress selection this evening!

Smiling at his screen as he sauntered down the sidewalk, he typed out his reply.

I agree with Alpine. Very nice selection.

He sent the text and paused, standing in place for a moment before sending a short addendum.

Sorry that I can’t be there.

It’s okay, there’s plenty others :)

Bucky looked up and saw that he had wandered a few stores down from the comic book shop. Craning his head, he didn’t see Sam yet. Turning back to the store in front of him, he glanced at the window display. A set of earrings on the edge of the display caught his eye. The soft pearls and winding gold took him back to another time. It was very reminiscent of the fancy jewelry that adorned the movie stars during his youth.

Glancing back down to the comic store, he had yet to see Sam out front. He took the opportunity to slip into the jewelers. There was a well-dressed couple looking at specific pieces of jewelry but otherwise, the store was empty. An unoccupied salesman approached Bucky warily.

“Can I help you sir?”

“Yes, um… I was interested in getting something from the window display.” Bucky said in a low tone as he gestured to the front. He was overly aware of how ‘rough around the edges’ he looked.

“Which one?” The salesman asked as Bucky followed him to the front. After the earrings were pointed out, the salesman took them out of the case. He gave a little background as he handed Bucky the set.

“This is from our vintage-inspired collection. Modeled after jewelry from the post-art-deco era in the 1930’s, these earrings are the perfect modern gift with a vintage twist.” They dangled on the velvet earring holder as Bucky took a closer look. They were perfect.

“How much?” Bucky asked.

“They’re a bit expensive sir- four hundred dollars.” The salesman said uneasily.

“I’ll take them.”

He paid for the gift and stepped out onto the street, stuffing the earring box into his pocket. No sign of Sam yet. Making his way back up the street, he checked his phone to see that you had texted him a link. He sat on the bench and tapped on the link, which took him to a video that you had uploaded of the opening piece from the night before. He smiled as he saw that you had recorded it from his usual spot in Box One. You walked across the stage on screen, doing your usual bow and taking a seat at the bench. He put the speaker of the phone up to his ear and waited for the playing to start.

“What’re you listening to?”

Bucky almost dropped his phone as Sam cackled.

“Are you finally done?” Bucky said, annoyance seeping out his tone.

“Yeah, c’mon.” Sam said, smirk still on his face.

That night in the hotel room, as Bucky was settling into bed, he played the video once more, this time actually getting to listen. It was a soft melody, warm and deceivingly intricate, lulling him to sleep.

---

The second official date was up to Bucky to plan, since you had gotten to plan the first one. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but he wanted it to be a surprise.

Dress code? You had asked.

He texted back to wear something comfy and casual. He had gone back to his roots, opting for dinner and a drive-in movie. Remembering your favorite snacks from grocery shopping, he made sure to stock up beforehand, stealing your keys and tucking them into the trunk of the car along with a cozy blanket.

He straightened out the wrinkles in his light grey long-sleeve shirt and checked to make sure his jeans and sneakers didn’t have mud on them from the driveway earlier. Satisfied with his appearance, he snagged his leather jacket and went to warm up the car.

Several minutes after he had gotten in the drivers seat and started the car, you stepped out of the house. Your white headband kept the hair out of your face as you locked the door behind you. You had put your hair into two braids that fell against the fuzzy crème sweater. With your outfit completed with light-wash jeans, white sneakers, and a small cross-body bag, Bucky thought you looked absolutely adorable.

“Hey.” He greeted you with a huge smile.

“Hey!” You replied as you messed with the seatbelt. After it clicked, you looked up at him, allowing Bucky to get a better look at you. You had put on a more natural set of makeup that just enhanced your already present features- your eyelashes curling just at the tips, your lips glossy and tinted-pink.

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“You’ll see.”

A coy smile came upon his lips as he shifted the car into drive. It was a longer drive and you made easy conversation as the sun started to set. It always set so early in the winter, making it feel way later than it was. Bucky exited the highway and you perked up curiously, looking to see if you recognized anything. Eventually, he merged into the turn lane, waiting for the light so that he could turn onto the street with a huge sign that read Drive-In Movies, This Way.

“Are we going to a drive-in movie?” You questioned excitedly. Bucky laughed at your enthusiasm and nodded his head.

“Yup. We are.”

You looked forward excitedly as the light turned green and he turned onto the road. Bucky pulled up to a toll booth and rolled down the window. A man peered into the car momentarily before ringing up the register.

“Twenty four dollars please.”

Wordlessly, Bucky pulled out his wallet and handed the man the cash. Letting his left arm hang out of the window while he waited for the change, he took his right and cupped it against the side of his mouth in a dramatic fashion.

“I remember when these used to be a dime.”

Your mouth twisted in an effort to hold back your laughter as Bucky thanked the man for the change. As you pulled off, you couldn’t help but snort.

“Okay, that was cute.” Bucky teased, getting the crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes that you liked so much. You gave him a wide smile as he pulled into the last row. Your eyes grew wide at the trailers playing on the screen.

“Wow, this is amazing. I’ve never been the a drive-in before. The screen is huge!” You turned your head. “And there’s a snack bar!”

“Hold on,” Bucky said as he popped the trunk and exited the car. He lifted the bag out of the trunk and came back around to the door, ducking his head so that he could see you.

“I’ve got some of your favorite,” he said as he passed you the bag of snacks, “and a blanket to stay warm in.”

Your eyes lit up as you looked through the snack bag. He had gotten a variety of candy he’s seen you eat, as well as chips and a bucket of kettle corn.

“Of course, if you want anything else, you can still go to the snack stand.”

“No, Buck, this is great. You’re amazing.” You said as you shook your head, still ruffling through the bag. He laughed and got back into the car, throwing the blanket into the back seat and pushing his chair back. As you got situated, the sun set fully and the movie began playing.

---

There were about thirty minutes left in the movie, and you and Bucky had finished up with the snacks and settled into your seats. The action on the screen did little to distract you from the way Bucky’s thumb rubbed the top of your hand. You stole a glance at him and he met your gaze with an easygoing smile on his face.

“Do you like the movie?” He asked when you did not turn back.

“Oh, yeah, I like it. I’ve actually seen it before. I just really like being here with you.” You propped your elbow up on the center console and rested your chin against your palm, looking at Bucky with a dreamy look in your eyes. “Am I distracting you from the movie?”

Bucky leaned closer to you with an amused look on his face.

“Yes, but I have also seen this movie before.”

It only took a few moments before his lips met yours, parting slightly to taste your strawberry lip gloss. His hand came up to softly hold your face, his thumb brushing against your jawline. When you came apart, the expression on your face made him swallow thickly. Hooded eyes and slightly parted lips tempted him beyond his means. This time, you leaned in to meet him in the middle, no hesitancy behind your actions. You captured his bottom lip, giving it a little kitten lick before gently sucking on it. Bucky let out a small groan into your mouth unintentionally, making your breath hitch.

You kissed for a while, small noises escaping both of you as you tilted your head occasionally to deepen the kiss. Bucky felt something stir in him that hadn’t in a long, long time. It was absolutely intoxicating, being with you like this. All he wanted was a little more. Breaking the kiss, he pulled back just a little, slightly breathless, just as you were. You let out a breathy laugh, cheeks warm and lips swollen. A beat passed before Bucky said something that made you almost choke.

“If we’re going to keep kissing, you should come over here and sit on my lap.”

You turned your head, looking through the car windows. There was no one parked particularly close to you, and your windows were tinted anyway. With an excited grin on your face, you scooted backwards over the center console until your back was resting on the driver’s side door. You were angled slightly to face him, your outstretched legs over his lap and on the center console towards the backseat. You hooked your arms around his neck and giggled. You hadn’t done anything like this since you were in high school.

He chuckled with you before closing the gap. You felt each others smiles as you kissed. Slowly, the kiss deepened. His arms wrapped around your waist as he tilted forward, leaning over you and giving him better access as you opened your mouth to let his tongue in. His hands moved to support the back of your head and your lower back, causing you to groan slightly and shift in his lap.

Bucky opened his eyes in surprise, panicking silently. You hadn’t noticed, eyes still closed as you continued to kiss him. He cursed in his head, shifting you up slightly so that your leg wasn’t resting right on his crotch. Thankfully, he was wearing jeans and you hadn’t given any indication that you had noticed. He chastised himself in his head.

C’mon man, you’re not fifteen anymore. You can’t go around getting stiff every time you kiss a girl.

The bright lights cut back on, startling you and Bucky apart. You squinted your eyes and looked out towards the screen. The credits had just finished. Looking back to Bucky, you both laughed before kissing once more.

---

Afterwards, he took you to a classic diner, treating you to dinner and dessert. There was a jukebox in the corner that you and Bucky had looked at, racking up a few songs. You had danced slightly in your seat when your favorites came on, making him grin like a love-struck fool.

The diner had been close to the drive-in, so the drive home was still pretty long. Full and content, you had dozed off to the tune of the radio playing softly in the background. Choosing to let you sleep, he drove back silently, looking over at you with a smile every once and a while.

He pulled up to the driveway and parked the car, gently leaning over to rub your arm.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “We’re home.”

You hummed in acknowledgement as you yawned and let you eyes adjust to the lights in the car.

“Mmm. Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s okay, it’s late. Let’s get you inside.”

You slowly got up and out of the car, gravel crunching underneath of your shoes. Bucky walked with you up to the front door.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You said groggily, leaning forward to kiss him. He met you halfway, pecking you on the lips.

“Goodnight.”

He watched you cross the threshold, giving you his usual three-fingered wave when you turned back to wave goodbye.

---

For the third date, you had told Bucky to wear his suit and tie. He had no idea what to expect. Hearing thunder outside, he took a peak through the blinds. The wind was really starting to pick up. Grabbing his phone and wallet, he gave Alpine a quick scratch before heading out. The wind was harsh, even for Bucky’s standards. He jogged across the driveway and up the porch, knocking on the door. A few seconds later, you answered, stepping out onto the porch.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting the weather to be like this. I got us a reservation at the museum’s restaurant but I don’t think it’s a good idea to travel that far in the rain.”

You looked out at the sky as the wind whipped your hair around your face. Bucky took the moment to admire how attractive you were. You had on an emerald satin cowl-neck dress that had a slit up the side. Dainty gold earrings matched the shimmering tennis bracelet you on. Your heels gave you some height and made it look like you were showing off an ungodly amount of leg.

“I’m sorry Buck,” you started, looking back to him. “I think we’ll have to go out some other time.”

“I understand. You look beautiful, by the way.” He said as he grabbed both of your hands.

You thanked him with an affectionate smile before getting a thoughtful look on your face.

“Would you like to come in for a drink?”

---

You padded back to the living room with two glasses, heels discarded at the door. Bucky, sans coat and tie, had opened a bottle of whiskey. Tucking your leg under your knee, you sat close, facing him. You held out the glasses, letting him poured a small amount in each. He sat the bottle down and you held out your glass to clink it to his. You took a sip of liquid courage, trying to steel your nerves. You held your drink in your lap and put your arm up on the back of the couch, leaning your head on your hand.

“It’s strange how, once we started seeing each other, how much of a rush it feels. Does it feel like that to you?”

“I do. It feels like… I just can’t get enough.” He said with a chuckle.

“It’s quite nice.” You smiled softly. “To find someone you have an understanding with.”

Bucky nodded as he sipped on his drink. You’d only known each other for half of a year, but if he thought about it harder, you had spent a lot of that time together, especially during the last few months. Bonds are also strengthened during trials and tribulation- you were both people looking to start over, to live happily, to do what you love and have a sense of fulfilment.

“I just think you’re amazing. I think it’s amazing that you want to be with me. I went through so much for so long, and now I finally remember what it feels like to have a sliver of happiness. So thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to be with anybody,” you started, looking down at your drink, “-and I would imagine it’s been the same for you.”

“Yeah. Since before the war.”

“There’s been nobody since?” Your face changed to one of empathy. Bucky took another sip of his drink.

“Nobody. Except you.” He glanced at you with a look of resolution and longing. Gently, you smiled back at him.

“I must be one lucky gal to catch you this late in the game.”

You looked at each other affectionately and kissed. It wasn’t rough, but still filled with passion. After a moment, you pulled apart. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and bit your lip. Bucky swallowed thickly.

“How… fast do you want to take things?”

He blinked in surprise at your words. He hadn’t expected a straight forward discussion about it, but then again, dating in this age was much different. It did make things refreshingly simpler.

“I, uh…”

You looked at him expectantly and he cleared his throat and apologized.

“Sorry. This is all new for me.”

You set a hand on his thigh encouragingly and offered to go first.

“I can start. I… haven’t been with anyone, physically, since my last relationship and you know how that ended. He could be a little… forceful, and that aspect of our relationship has proven to be one of the hardest things to heal from.”

At this point, you were looking down at your hand, tapping a soothing rhythm from muscle memory onto his thigh.

“… I’m sorry. That must be extremely painful to deal with. Nobody should have to go through that.” He put a hand onto your knee reassuringly, rubbing it with his thumb. You shook your head quickly.

“It’s in the past. I’m happy with where I am now. At the end of the day, that’s what matters. Or at least that’s what I keep telling myself… Either way, I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m not completely sure what I’m ready for, and I might not know until the opportunity presents itself. Please, be patient with me as I figure this. It’s not because I don't trust you or think you'll hurt me, I just...” You trailed off.

“Of course. Whatever you need. Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he assured you. “If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t been with anyone… ever.”

“Really? Like, you’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” You looked at him in a way that implied that he better not be messing around.

“I mean, I’ve gotten a little handsy before,” he said in slight defense, lightening the tension. “but I’ve never been with anyone like that. We didn’t talk about stuff like this in the 40’s. It was expected that you… you know, wait until marriage. People still got together physically, but it was way less common back then. Believe it or not, Steve wasn’t the only gentleman out there.”

You nodded your head and looked at him, clearly impressed.

“No, I totally believe that. Wow. Playboy Sergeant Barnes, waiting for the right girl. You know they write about you like you basically invented premarital sex.”

“Pfft.” Bucky couldn’t hold back his laughter. You both fell apart into a round of giggles. You took another sip of your drink and tried to settle down, wiping your eyes and letting out a deep breath.

“So, are you waiting? To be married? It’s totally fine if you are, I’m just curious.”

Bucky shrugged his eyebrows, now bringing his arm to rest against the couch behind you.

“Not anymore. I think I might’ve then, but that was a lifetime ago. I think what matters most is how comfortable I feel with the person. Besides, it’s rude to keep a lady waiting.” His tone changed, wearing a teasing smile on his face. You rolled your eyes, though still smiling, and put a hand on his chest lightly.

“Very funny, Buck. I’m glad we got to talk about it.”

“Me too.”

The rest of the night was filled with cooking together and watching a movie, only to be distracted by each other. You had been making out with him for quite some time before you separated from him, yawning and stretching your arms over your head.

“Alright, I’m tired. Wanna sleepover?”

“What happened to taking things slow?” He half-teased.

“Well, I figured since you’ve already slept over here once, it wasn’t anything new. Plus you are so warm and it’s so cold.” You bantered. Changing to a more serious tone, you reiterated- “Only if you want to.” Bucky squinted his eyes as he thought and then mentally shrugged, getting up off of the couch.

“Sure.”

He followed you down the hall. You padded lightly to your room, pulling your hair to the front of your shoulder.

“Do you need clothes?” You asked as you started unzipping the top of the dress. Instinctively Bucky looked aside.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

You responded “okay” as you stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you to change in privacy. He looked around before unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt. He did the same with his pants before getting in bed on the side you don’t sleep on. Bringing one arm up under the pillow to prop himself up slightly and resting the other on his midsection, he let out a deep breath, getting comfortable. The sheets were extremely soft, and they smelled like you. Hearing the door open, he watched as you came out in a loose long-sleeve t-shirt and soft flannel sleep pants.

“Comfy?” You asked with a smile, hanging up the dress on the door.

“Yeah.”

You got into bed on your usual side and laid on your stomach, propping yourself up on your forearms as you looked down at him. Your hair created a curtain, blocking the light from the lamp and creating your own little bubble.

“Goodnight.” You smiled at him sleepily.

“Goodnight.”

He kissed you softly before settling back down. You turned off the lamp and scooched up next to him. He sighed in contentment and moved his arm so that he was holding you to him. With your head resting on his shoulder, he fell into the best sleep he had had in years.

---

The next morning, Bucky floated back up to consciousness to what felt like bliss. Stirring awake, he blinked his eyes open to find the source of the comfort- you. You were still asleep, curled up next to him, face against his arm. Carefully, he slid out of the bed so as to not disturb you, and went to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. He breathed in the morning as he looked out at the bare landscape. After experiencing cryofreeze and the depths of Siberia, the cold couldn’t phase him.

What did phase him, was the warmth he experienced with you. His entire life up until this point had been frigid. Losing his family, his friends, his life, his willpower. Everything around him was nothing but cold to the touch. Then, you came in with a burst of red warmth, thawing him out and letting him feel again. Feel something other than pain and confusion, anger and abandonment. The feeling of actually being happy, which was new and overwhelming.

He hadn’t noticed his breath growing heavier. Putting a hand to his chest, he tried to slow his breathing. Being happy also meant that it could now be taken away. He hadn’t had anything to lose in a long, long time.

The creaking of the floorboards caught Bucky’s attention, and he was able to calm himself down with the distraction. He poured another cup of coffee as you walked into the kitchen. Turning around, he saw you stretch your arms above your head before settling down on the barstool at the counter.

“Good morning.” You greeted him with a sleepy smile, slouching over the counter to watch him pour the exact amount of cream and sugar that you liked into the cup.

“Good morning.” He echoed, handing over the mug and leaning against the counter across from you. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t. The delicious smell of coffee did.” You took a sip and sighed. “And maybe the cold did too.”

You reached over the counter for his hand. The warmth of his palm brought much needed heat to the tips of your fingers. He squeezed your hand slightly tighter than normal and you thought nothing of it. You lifted the mug to your mouth by one hand and took a longer drink before settling back in your chair. Your unbrushed hair framing your face as the light of the winter morning lit up your eyes.

Bucky’s breath sped up slightly as he looked at you, completely enamored and terrified of the feeling that was swelling in his chest.

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