#this is rushed and shitty BUT I HAD TO GET IT OUTTA MY HEAD- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cassbrookes · 1 year ago

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#Sol's RV with @solreznik

Cass Brookes

-After her conversation with Isaac, Cass took a walk around town to clear her head before she went to Sol's place. After the amazing night they'd had the night before, the last thing she wanted was to go in and bring the mood down. That could wait until after she told him she'd be heading outside the walls. Rapping her knuckles lightly against the door, she called out- Guess who!

Sol Reznik

-After his morning chat with Ike, Sol hadn't left his RV. Ate what he had stashed in his cabinets, whittled idly at a few carving projects, and lazed about--completely and utterly unlike himself. Hearing a knock and Cass' cheery voice just about knocked some pure happiness into him--the stars the night before, the easy way she'd cuddled up to him. But then the morning's conversation rang in his head again.- C'mon in...-her face appears- ain't this a pretty surprise.

Cass Brookes

-she didn't hesitate once he gave her the okay to come in, poking her head through the door before stepping inside- Hey you. -He was shirtless, so she had to do her best to keep her eyes on his face, especially since he didn't have his ribs all wrapped up this time. After a moment, she moved over to where he was sitting and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss before settling in next to him.- How are you feeling today? Kinda figured you'd be out tryin' to fix something.

Sol Reznik

-oh, that easy kiss was like a balm to his overactive mind. But even still, he couldn’t avoid her question- Nah, no use to anything today…in a bit of a funk, I guess.

Cass Brookes

-his response pulled her lips down into a small frown of worry, her hand moving to the middle of his back to rub small circles on it- Did you not sleep well? Is it pain?

Sol Reznik

-closing his eyes in delight at her touch for just a moment…before the morning’s guilt came rushing in- Nothing like that, I slept like a baby. No, it’s…got to talking to somebody earlier and it reminded me of some shit that always gets me in my head. Been thinking it over all day.

Cass Brookes

-her hand pauses as her frown deepens, concern washing over her- I know what that can be like. I'm not gonna try and pull anything outta you, but if you wanna talk about it, I got nothin' but time right now. -she moves her hand around so that she's hugging his shoulders, giving him a little squeeze-

Sol Reznik

Shit, feels unfair to you…we get one nice evening before I’m unveiling my sad sack ways -he tries to tack a little laugh onto it, but it sounds half-hearted, even to his own ears- I just…man, I think you deserve the whole damn world. The very best. And I…historically speaking, I fuck things up. In all the crazy shit in this world, I’d wanna protect you, do right by you. But I couldn’t even get Ginny through one night out past the walls.

Cass Brookes

Hey... -While his last words weren't unexpected - hell, she knew he'd have to have this guilt eating him - it still didn't soften the blow of basically hearing him blame himself out loud- Ginny... it wasn't your fault, Sol. I know me sayin' it isn't going to immediately change your mind, but I hope someday you realize that it's true. There was nothing you could've done differently. You don't control the weather. -Now she moved her hands to cup his cheeks, forcing his head to turn and look her in the eyes- The past is just that. The past. I'm a big girl, Sol. I don't know if you've noticed, but I've spent a fair amount of time outside these walls myself.

Sol Reznik

-he presses his cheek into the comfort of her touch and closes his eyes- Shoulda been more cautious about the barn. I knew it was old, I shouldn’t have risked it. I can’t…I can’t shake the guilt. You deserve someone who’s not carrying that shit around, ‘cause I’m gonna have bad days, Cass. And I gotta warn you now, I’m going back out there. I gotta finish what sent Ginny out there, I gotta try to find Henry. Or I’m not gonna be able to live with myself. But god, that’s a shitty thing to put you through.

Cass Brookes

-It was impossible to stop the deep breath of air she sucked in at the idea of him heading out into the world to try and find a kid he'd never even met. Bless him, she understood his need, the reason behind it, but damn. Rather than focusing on that right now though, she presses her forehead to his.- If you think I'm not carryin' shit around, I'm puttin' up a better front than I thought. We've all got baggage, babe. Hell, some of us had it before the world went to shit. -she strokes her thumbs over his cheekbones, quiet for a moment before adding- I won't lie, I'm not a fan of you going out on what feels like an impossible mission, but I get it. I do.

Sol Reznik

-her understanding in that moment, the way she gets closer instead of pulling away…it breaks him. After building all day, the emotion of it comes spilling out of him in quiet tears- Lemme help you carry some of it, okay? I know right now I’m the one crumbling, but when it comes time, put some of that baggage on me, please?

Cass Brookes

-seeing the tears, hearing the break in his voice, she wraps her arms around him and pulls him in close, as though she can somehow shield him from the hurt he's experiencing- Only if you share yours with me, yeah? If we're gonna do this, we're in this together, good and bad. -her fingers stroke through his curls reassuringly, silently urging him to let his emotions out, because she's not going anywhere- I want to be equal partners with you, Sol. You lean on me, I lean on you.

Sol Reznik

-he hooks his chin over her shoulder and hugs her back- It’s gonna take some practice…I know my habits. But I’ll try. Shit, think I’d try anything for you. Just…tell me if I’m fucking up, okay? ‘Cause it’ll never be on purpose. But it’s been a long time since I let someone close.

Cass Brookes

I promise that I will do my best to warn you before you even get close to fucking anything up, okay? -she turns her head so her face is pressed into his neck, taking a deep breath before pulling back a bit. She's hoping that opening up a bit to him in return will help ease his own fears about himself- You have every right to tell me if I'm fucking things up, too, cause I'm just as likely to as you. My last relationship was a nightmare and I haven't trusted myself with anyone since.

Sol Reznik

-he doesn’t like the sound of a nightmare relationship, but he tries not to let his face get too grim. He takes her hand- You can tell me about it, y’know? Help me know how to treat you better?

Cass Brookes

-For a moment she almost makes a callous, offhand comment in response to his questions, but at the last second she reins it in, knowing now isn't the time for jokes.- It's a pretty cliché story. Girl meets boy, girl falls in love, girl's dreams start coming true and boy's don't, boy gets mad, boy hits girl. -Okay, it still came out more callous than she meant to, so with a sigh, she squeezes his hand and continues- He started out alright, turned into a jerk at the end. I hate admitting it, but I stayed way longer than I should've, thinking he'd change back.

Sol Reznik

-the idea of hitting Cass is so completely fucking foreign to him that it hadn't crossed his mind as the source of the nightmare. As soon as the word "hit" leaves her mouth, something new and angry starts taking shape inside him. He tamps it down for some other outlet, but she can probably still feel his tremble. He loosens his posture, gentles his body as much as he can, and squeezes her hand back- Fucking shame you had to go through any of that. I can see why you'd be cautious, then. I hope you know...the boxing, the fighting shit I've done, that has always stayed in the ring.

Cass Brookes

Oh, God, Sol-- no. I've never worried about that around you. Ever. -Even having felt the shift in his posture twice over, there's no fear when it comes to being this close to him- Not even after learning you did the whole boxing thing. -To reassure him as much as herself, she leaned in again to place another soft kiss on his lips- Steve just-- it took awhile for me to admit how bad things were, and it took even longer for me to stop blaming myself. You're nothing like him though.

Sol Reznik

-he sighs relief against her kiss, then presses one of his own to her forehead- I hate knowing you went through something awful like that...and being totally honest, the idea that someone laid their hand on you in harm makes me wanna tear down a whole goddamn building in rage. If zombies haven't gotten him, I wouldn't mind the chance to take him out myself. -he takes a deep breath and focuses back on her, pets her cheek with his thumb- But I'm proud you got out.

Cass Brookes

Zombies probably did get him, but even if he's still out there somewhere, he's not worth it. -She offers him a small smile- So you can leave the poor, innocent buildings alone. -Now she twists to a sideways sitting position, wrapping her arms around him entirely and pulling him into her chest, every bit as protective as he wants to be- What about you? Why've you held people at arm's length so long?

Sol Reznik

-the intensity of that question sobered him right up and he blew out a big puff of air- I got this tendency to just...not be as much as people need? The one serious relationship I was in, I couldn't be who she needed. Couldn't...-he cleared his throat to stall, but figured he oughta be upfront- she wanted kids--we both did--but it never happened. Years after we split, she got married, had a whole bunch of babies right in a row. That's just one example. Somewhere along the way, I guess I figured I was saving folks the disappointment? I got older, realized that was a cowardly way of living. But by then, I'd gotten used to my own company. -he rests his head against her shoulder- holy shit, I never do this, just spill my guts out.

Cass Brookes

-she can practically feel the gravity of his answer in the weight of his frame. The comment about the kids - well, she could see how that would make anyone feel 'not enough'. Cass had always dreamed of having kids someday, but now, with the state of the world, she wasn't so sure.- I'm glad you feel like you can. Share with me. And for what it's worth, you should never think you're not enough for someone. -She wanted to reassure him that of course it wasn't on him that they'd never had children, but she couldn't say for sure and to try and tell him otherwise would probably come off as patronizing. 'Maybe it wasn't meant to be' wasn't any better. So instead of saying any of those things, she tilted her chin to kiss the crown of his head, continuing to run her fingers through his hair.-

Sol Reznik

You're real good at this, y'know? Still got the little ball of guilt in there, but for the first time all day, I don't feel like my goddamn chest is gonna cave in. -he sways a little against her, then hums when a thought comes to mind- Shit, I didn't even ask, how was your day?

Cass Brookes

-she let out a soft chuckle, kissing the crown of his head again- Like I said, we're a team. It's easier if it's shared. -oof. Her day. Hopefully her new plan didn't bring back that chest caving feeling again.- Not so bad. Didn't come across anything on my security rounds. -She paused, and now she was the one doing the stalling. Another sigh.- I stopped by Isaac's place earlier to run an idea past him.

Sol Reznik

-Ike was about the last person he expected her to mention, but he tried not to let his surprise show, put on a joking voice- Now that sounds like all sorts of trouble.

Cass Brookes

Surprisingly not. -She never had told Sol about everything that had gone down between her and Isaac, so she didn't mention the semi-truce they'd come to- At least not running the idea past him. He was actually all for it.

Sol Reznik

Well that's good, what's the idea?

Cass Brookes

-Well there was a loaded question, considering she hadn't even told Sol about all of her family yet.- Going back to my ranch to see if some of my older brother's 'bugout bags' are still hidden. He had several stashes hidden around the property.

Sol Reznik

Is that Alex, then? Send a couple of raiders out there to bring back the goods--that's smart.

Cass Brookes

Not Alex... Nate. He's not-- he was with Alex and didn't make it. And no, not a couple of raiders. -she tenses slightly, already anticipating that Sol isn't going to like her next words- Me, Alex, and Ike.

Sol Reznik

-compassion hit first, when she mentioned a brother that was dead. Then she wasted no time in dealing the second blow- Jesus...I don't like that. I--I'm sorry to hear about Nate, I'm guessing that was news Alex brought with him? Shit Cass, you been grieving and I'm fucking...hitting on you? -he hung his head down and sighed- I'm guessing there's a reason Ike can't just take Alex?

Cass Brookes

Hey - you have been a fucking shining light in the middle of all of this. I've been grieving yes, but I didn't say anything, because in a way, I've already grieved all of my family. -Shit, she'd already gone through it once today, and if anyone deserved to know the story, it was Sol- We lost my parents about a year into everything. About maybe a year after that, Nate and Alex went out for supplies and just... never came back. I waited a year for them, hoping, but by the time some people wandered by and told me about Redwood forming, I had nothing but the horses. And I'm not gonna lie, Ike could easily take Alex and leave me behind... -she used her fingers to tilt his chin up so she could look him in the eyes again- But I feel like I need to go.

Sol Reznik

-he felt a surge of fondness for her, setting out with just her horses, brave and determined in the face of loss- I get it. Hell, I'd be a raging fucking hypocrite if I said otherwise. And I trust Ike. Not that I don't trust Alex, I just know Ike. If I had to pick someone to watch out for you, it's him. I just...-he took both of her hands in his and brought them to his mouth like he could impress the words on them- I know you will, but please be careful. Be smarter than I was out there.

Cass Brookes

Of course I'll be careful. I promise I'll be careful. Besides, it'll only take us a couple of days, a week at most. Easy peasy. And I'll be as smart as I can. -she wanted desperately to ease his mind, although she knew it was impossible to completely ease his fears- I'll have Ike and Alex to keep an eye on me, and you know Zodiac won't let me get into trouble

Sol Reznik

-the mention of Zodiac did actually reassure him- Yeah, I take it back, if there's anyone I pick to watch out for you it's Zodiac, that's one very good boy. You need anything taken care of at the farmhouse while you're gone? Anything I can do back here?

Cass Brookes

-she snorted a laugh at his sudden turn, although she couldn't blame him after Zodiac was the one to carry him home- I'll let you know if I can think of anything for while I'm gone. But...for tonight? Do you mind if I just stay here? -Partly because she just wanted to be close to him, partly to prove to him that she wasn't scared of whatever baggage he had, and partly to reassure him that she was real and there and would come back to him-

Sol Reznik

-relieved beyond words that he doesn't have to watch her walk out tonight- Course I don't mind, whatever I got is yours. Which...ain't a lot, mind you. But I got a couple of clean t-shirts and sweatpants if you need something comfortable to sleep in. Might wanna lock the door though, apparently I'm still "recuperating," which means folks walk in with soup at all hours of the day.

Cass Brookes

I hadn't even thought of that. No one is gonna like, panic if they can't get to you, right? -she could only imagine how embarrassing that might be for everyone involved- I already told Alex not to wait up for me, so he's not gonna be looking for me. -She glances down at her current outfit, realizing that jeans would definitely not be comfortable to sleep in- I'll take you up on the t-shirt... sweatpants might be too warm. Got any of those cute little shorts around?

Sol Reznik

Nah, I'm not expected anywhere til the afternoon tomorrow. -he scoffs at the shorts comment and shakes his head- I have one clean pair left, you're welcome to 'em.

Cass Brookes

You laugh, but I'm used to sleeping in just a t-shirt and underwear. I'll take the shorts over full on sweatpants any day. -glancing around the RV, she turns back to Sol- Where can I find said shorts and tee?

Sol Reznik

-with that glorious mental picture searing into his brain, he levels her with a knowing smile, kicks the heel of his good foot against the underside of his bed, and scoots to the side- There's storage under here, I got it. -he leans down and snags the shorts- for shirts, I've got grey or navy blue, what's your flavor?

Cass Brookes

Very efficient use of space. -In a way, she envied him this cozy space. More often than not, the farmhouse felt entirely too empty and lonely- Hmm... -she pretends to think, as though it's some very important decision- I'm feeling the navy blue. It'll up my stealth factor. -as though she was at all stealthy-

Sol Reznik

-handing the garments over with a smile- Should I be concerned you're tryna be stealthy in my bed? -he catches himself- That's alright, yeah? Sharing the bed? I assumed...

Cass Brookes

-She takes the clothing before kicking off her boots, and with only a little hesitation, shucks off both her jeans and top right in front of him, replacing them with the offered clothing before answering his questions- Well, I promise you I'll be anything but stealthy, and yeah... that's kinda what I was anglin' for...

Sol Reznik

-not prepared for her to undress right away he catches sight of her bare breasts and long legs before glancing away in the name of privacy. He still wanted to wait until he was in better shape, but tonight would test that resolve- Never need to angle with me, Cass, I'm very unlikely to ever tell you "no."

Cass Brookes

Then in that case, I want to stay the night to be close to you, so yeah -she paused, locking the door of the RV before stepping over to stand in front of Sol again- if you're okay with me sharin' your bed, that's where I wanna be.

Sol Reznik

-staring up at her, a little mesmerized- Then that's where I want you. You still okay with waiting?

Cass Brookes

-she takes the time to let her gaze move over his body, nibbling her lower lip for a contemplative moment before she settles on the bed next to him and nods- I'm telling you right now, I am coming back from the ranch, so yes, I'm still good on waiting. -she scooches up further onto the bed and pats the spot next to her in unnecessary invitation-

Sol Reznik

-her promise made his heart sing, even if he knew this was a world without guarantees. So he maneuvered onto the bed beside her til they were shoulder to shoulder and lowered his voice to a whisper- You like your own space when you sleep, or can I hold you?

Cass Brookes

-In answer to his question, she rolled over and settled herself in against his side as she had the previous night, wrapping her arms around him and holding him close, nuzzling into the crook of his neck- I make no guarantees once I'm asleep, but right now I don't want any space between us. I don't want anything between us. -After tonight it felt like there was no space, no secrets, nothing to hide-

#c: sol #sol:05 #solreznik #discord thread #tw: abuse mention

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milkytheholy1 · 2 years ago

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Everything Ends: Part 6

_______________________________________________

Back at the lair

"Soooo, what do we do with this thing?" April questioned, holding the key up in her hand. You and Splinter stood beside the teen, while Splinter choose to tug on his beard in thought, you were still processing certain events.

"We could always burn it, fire gets rid of everything." Splinter rushed out, rather suspiciously. April sent him a side eye, "Uuh huh, I don't even wanna know."

She turned to you with a bright smile, "What about you, (Y/N)? Got any good ide-" her voice faded out. April tilted her head in sympathy, her brows were furrowed and her lips were jutting out. She turned to Splinter who shared a similar look, he waved his hands in a 'go-talk-to-them' motion.

"Hey, you ok?" April eventually asked after a blanket of silence enclosed the room, you sighed but slowly nodded your head, "Yeah," you all but whispered out. Another shared look. April placed the key down and walked over to you, offering you a warm smile, "Hey, I've known Leo for practically my entire life. He's going to come around, heck, he probably didn't mean it! He's always so into his own mind, maybe he didn't even realise what you said?"

"No, April. He knew exactly what I said, and yet, he still left. I know it was a shitty thing to do, to make him choose, but what else could I have done; he threw a katana at me, April. A katana!"

April shook her head in disapproval, even Splinter piped up, "Blue was wrong, there is no doubt about it. But I raised him better than this, whatever has come over him will fade. I only hope he realises this soon."

The room fizzled into a quiet atmosphere, the only sounds audible were that of the leaky pipes and honking from taxis above ground. You were all standing around the key, April had previously pulled up a whiteboard, simply titled 'Mission: Key Master' and began jotting down any ideas she could think of.

She then turned to you and Splinter, her hip jutting out, "C'mon guys, I can't be the only one coming up with good ideas...well, ideas."

"Magma!" Splinter shouted out, you shook your head, "No, no, what we need is acid."

"Acid? Are you kidding me?" Splinter laughed, "We need to up the ante, we need a black hole!" You and April both shared a look, "What about the toaster? It burns bread, why not a mystic, alien key?" April added.

"A wet punch!"

"A big hammer!"

"Katanas!"

"A jackhammer!"

"Lasers!"

"Have we seriously got no good ideas, like really a wet punch? You thought that would work?" (Y/N) glared at Splinter, "Hey, April said we needed ideas, she never clarified whether they had to be good!"

"Guys, guys, we gotta stop fighting, it'll get us nowhere." April chided, she rubbed her hands over her face, dragging her eyes as she glared at the key. You sighed, softening your shoulders, "You're right. I'm sorry Splints, I guess with everything happening I'm just...on edge."

"I believe I owe an apology to you too, I am sorry I raised my voice."

"See? Look what happens when we work together as a team, not fighting like some Z-list bad guys. Now c'mon, we're gonna figure this thing out even if it's the last thing I do!"

A red blaring light flashed haphazardly, illuminating everything in a warning sign. A loud siren bleeds through the air, invading your hearing which caused you to wince, "What's happening!" you cried out. One of the numerous monitors in the lair lit up with a camera feed displaying the secret entrance, and it looks like you had a few visitors.

"This cannot be good," Splinter sighed, "C'mon, we'll head to the garage! It'll be the easiest way outta here!" April rushed, pressing a bunch of buttons, presumably to slow down the Kraang. Before you left the room you swiped the key, fumbling to put it in April's backpack.

Eventually, though, you made it to the garage, thanking Donnie to high heaven that he made more vehicles than just the Turtle Tank. You saddled with April while Splinter took his own bike, Donnie had designed it specifically to fit his height requirements.

"Aprilllllll Ooooooo'Neil!" the girl in the green jacket yelled out, revving the engine before kicking off of the ground and zooming through the sewer tunnels. You clung on to her sides, your hair whipping against your cheeks as tears flooded your vision. You could faintly hear Splinter behind you as well as the onslaught of laughter and growls.

The bike skidded and swerved, occasionally you met the odd staircase and felt your insides bounce. April's backpack was slightly open and every time you hit a particular bump you could faintly see the key float in the air. Grabbing it with haste, you held it close to your chest, flinching away from whatever the Kraang were throwing at you.

"Faster!" Splinter yelled out, but it was hard to hear over the blood rushing through your ears, "Faster!" he cried again, now by your side. A large tentacle came crashing down against Splinter's bike, luckily he was no ordinary rat and jumped onto yours. The bike bounced backwards, igniting a large explosion, you could feel the faint heat burning your neck.

"Run while you can, insects! You can't escape!" the alien growled, whipping another tentacle against your bike; this time you weren't so lucky. The bike flew from under you, April rolled off to the side, Splinter was flung straight into a wall, and you were left gliding through the air until the rather uncomfortable ground caught you.

You were bound to feel that in the morning, that's if you'd make it to then. Although your gaze was fuzzy, you could see the key only meters away from you. Crawling towards it, you quickly caught sight of the Kraang charging towards the very same object. You moved quicker, gasping as your lungs burned and your ribs screamed. Your hand collapsed around the key, yanking it back towards you before April could pull you up onto your feet.

Your free hand clutched your chest, feeling immense pain and tightness. April grabbed your arm, tugging you as she ran away from the beast. You could hear it laughing as it crept closer and closer, it felt like a losing game of cat and mouse. The Kraang sister jumped at you both, flicking you into the air and landing on the hard train tracks of the abandoned subway. You gasped aloud, something definitely popped.

"Give me the key, human." the alien bellowed out, watching with yellow-tinted eyes as you clutched it closer to your chest. April was cowering beside you, panting. She drew her backpack in front of her, hoping the slight accessory would provide a little bit of protection. She rummaged around, her fingers grasping anything she could find and throwing it at the Kraang; though it did nothing to stop them.

The Kraang slammed itself against you both, one tentacle reaching out for the key while the other moved to crush April. You both screamed, holding the key in a death grip, it felt like this was the end. You'd never get to see Leo again, you'd never get to apologise, never get to tell him you loved him.

All of a sudden, April pulled out a glowing blue substance, throwing it with all her power at the Kraang. The creature immediately backed away, wailing and groaning in pain, it sounded almost human in the way its blood-curdling screams echoed.

"What did you do to me? What did you do to my face?" it shrieked, turning to you both with a fresh new hole where it's eye should have been. You and April released another scream, backing away as quickly as you could. A yellow glow emitted from the Kraangs eye, the sound of a bike getting closer and closer until Splinter pulled up with the same bike as before.

He pulled you up and onto the vehicle, sending you a worried glance at the way you hunched over. April smiled, her eyes full of hope as she pointed at the Kraang, "Ha! I knew that stuff was nasty!"

"Yes, yes, you're a genius! Now let's go!" Splinter hurried out, revving the engine once more and skidding down the tunnel leaving the bad guys in the dust.

Eventually light flooded your vision, you had made it to the surface, finally, you could breathe in fresh air no matter how hard it hurt. April tapped her communicator, calling for Donnie but there was barely an answer, just static.

"Donnie? Donnie, come in! They found us, where should we go? Donnie?" she tried once more. The static warped and morphed until voices came through, "We're trapped!" came his hectic voice. It came in waves, fading in and out, "We are zzt- trapped zzt- in the subway under zzzt- Metro Tower! We-zzt- ing- zzt- low power- nd-zzt- Kraang growth. Zzt- I repeat- zzzt - Apri-"

"APRIL, COME QUICK ZZT- WE'RE BEING ZZZT- SQUISHED!" Mikey's voice yelled out, Splinter put his foot down and the bike practically jumped at the increase.

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clarrissanewt · 3 years ago

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Meow Like a Cat

Pairing: Bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

Warnings: innuendo, bakugou owns a cat like himself

Summary: bakugou owning a cat was something you least expected, but him owning one illegally was...woah

Racing up the stairs, you juggled the keys that Katsuki had given you a month ago. The stairs of the apartment looked clean and well kept, with occasional pots of houseplants gracing you once in a while. You liked the fact that Bakugou’s apartment was in walking distance from your office, and Katsuki- talking of whom, your phone luminated enough to blind your bloody eyes (Katsuki’s words, not yours). Adjusting the phone between your shoulders and neck, you thrusted the key into the lock.

“Where are you, shitty woman?”

You rolled your eyes at both his words and the adamant lock of his. “More like where are you, Bakubro?” You chided, hearing the gruff and aggressive scoff of your boyfriend.

Damn, you thought. Bakubro is a strong word.

“In the shitty hoard of nerds and paperwork,” you could hear the raged flips of pages from the other line and for once, even you wished to curse on the shitty lock he had put on the door. “Where are you?”

“Standing in front of your door and playing with the cheap shit of the lock you had bought.”

You didn’t miss the beats of silence that passed from Katsuki’s side, and made a mental note to say this sentence again and drop a new lock in his hand…Katsuki’s ego would never let you gift him anything, let alone it be a door lock.

“Don’T YOU FUCKING DARE TO ENTER INSIDE!!”

You would have asked him why he meant that, but at the exact moment, the lock gave away, and you opened the door, smirking to yourself at the victory. “Why would you say that, bakubro…technically I already entered.”

You heard a faint ‘shit’ followed by Izuku’s voice who called after Bakugou. Shaking your head at your boyfriend’s childish concern (you bet he bought some new All Might posters for his bedroom and doesn’t want you to see), you dropped your bag on the blond-ish couch, immediately hearing a hiss.

A hiss?

You yelped when a small tail was raised in the air, and from beneath the couch’s cushion, emerged a cat- Katsuki’s cat…?

You scribbled out the very idea of him owning a cat (because you don’t think he can tolerate one), so naturally all the silly neurons of your brain told you it was a stray one, that most probably had entered from his balcony. But from 18 floors down?

“Hey…” you crouched in front of the couch, extending your arm towards the little furry baby. “Get down the couch…come on, katsuki will kill you otherwise.”

You didn’t know if it was the kill word or the fact that you took Katsuki’s name from your mouth, the cat hissed at you furiously, skidding towards you and trying in vain to scratch you.

You were glad that the paws were trimmed, because otherwise, for the love of all good things left in the world, you couldn’t get yourself to pick the cat up and set it on the balcony.

“Come on-”

It was all so futile because never in your life you had seen such an adamant cat- constantly hissing at you as if you were an intruder.

Loud footsteps drummed from two floors down and you heard the all recognizable shout of 'Get outta my way!'

You had a plan...with three steps: RUSH, HIDE, CLOSE THE DOOR ON KATSUKI'S FACE-

But it was probably stupid because when you stood in front of the cat deducing your mindexploding plan, katsuki was on the door, his heart hammering wildly inside his chest and the cat gave an innocent meow. Like it never hissed at you or tried to scratch you.

The scene was a murder to your brain, anyway, so you simply pointed between the cat and your boyfriend demanding an explanation...which was perhaps impossible because the cat was meowing all over.

"Shit, should have told you before," Katsuki muttered, almost biting off his perfect nails as he closed the door behind him.

"It's a cat," you chided, "you of course could have told."

"Look it's...illegal to keep one here." And Katsuki's cat meowed again.

"Yeah but you are Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight."

You were ready to duck behind the couch as Katsuki looked on the verge of exploding you at the mention of his kiddish hero name.

There was a knock on the door and the cat sauntered after you behind the couch. You tried half-heartedly to scratch lightly behind the ear and somehow it complied.

"Bakugou-San, I heard a cat's voice from your house," you recognized the voice as Iida's, the president of the apartment, and imagined his chopping motions of hands cutting through the air.

You shared a look with the cat whose ears dropped low as if it understood what kind of heck hole you all were in.

"Oh, baby,you are in so much trouble."

Slowly peeking your face above the couch you looked at Katsuki whose fists were spamming around nothing and you just went uh-huh. You knew one second would pass and Iida would be blasted off the door.

"Iida-San! You here?" You didn't wish to sound accusing but you couldn't help. "I heard something like 'cat'...?"

"I heard-"

"Oohhh, cat you meant? You heard a cat?" You nudged Bakugou aside and stood on the door. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but it was me- look, meow, meow-" you ended up coughing at the second meow, holding on to Katsuki's shoulder to keep him away from blasting any of you. "Uh, it's been quite a few minutes I've been doing that, and guess what? Katsuki is not even bringing a collar!"

You tried not to cringe at your own words and looked back at your boyfriend to see a faint curtain of blush creeping across his face.

"See you later, Iida-San!"

Closing the door behind you with a bam! you crossed your arms across your chest.

"Fuck, sorry." Bakugou took your arm gently and before you knew it, you were pinned to the wall. "A collar, huh?"

You scoffed at his legendary smirk. "Come on, bakubro, you want me to meow like a cat."

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sunmoonandeddie · 3 years ago

Text

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n: This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes reader insert

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titan-fodder · 3 years ago

Text

Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys.

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable.

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party.

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that.

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now.

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought.

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!"

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening.

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?"

More cheers, more hollers.

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!"

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day.

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse.

Again—you fucking hate frat boys.

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst.

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer.

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt.

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team.

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!"

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Hell no!"

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike."

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving."

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed.

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?"

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly."

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer.

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little.

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?"

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along.

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though.

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?"

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer."

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers.

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in.

He does, and you let out a breath of relief.

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?"

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?"

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you."

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs.

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue.

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?"

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself."

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon.

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip.

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice.

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach.

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum.

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!"

"Ayyy, waterfall!"

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced.

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch.

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up."

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game.

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards.

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace.

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup.

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you.

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts.

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely.

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you.

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before.

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team?

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you.

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out.

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult.

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes.

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses.

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way.

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls.

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you.

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc.

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover.

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall.

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster.

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him.

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them.

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it.

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms.

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees.

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested.

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins.

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?”

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away.

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him.

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave.

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning.

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you.

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too.

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was.

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips.

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble.

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere.

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out.

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb.

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper.

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind.

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind.

“Holy—”

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs.

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass.

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately.

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress.

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan.

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you.

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it.

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed.

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to.

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door.

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias.

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again.

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot.

Is still hot.

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong.

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner.

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits.

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face.

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you.

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago.

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head.

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick.

God dammit, why is he so sexy?

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so...

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body.

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face.

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted.

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip.

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock.

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion.

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth.

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue.

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you.

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward.

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot.

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit.

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to.

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine.

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts.

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight."

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you.

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed.

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach.

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression.

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support.

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot.

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?"

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee."

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out.

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side.

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth.

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like.

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?"

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!"

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together.

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave.

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it.

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove.

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?"

And, there's that point.

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request.

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea.

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times.

But, it needs to stop.

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth.

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer.

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call.

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven.

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it.

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them.

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious.

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before.

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods.

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated.

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself.

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee.

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much.

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully.

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?"

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?"

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to.

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point.

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you.

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie.

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?"

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal."

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?"

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended.

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards.

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day."

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face.

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias."

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps.

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick.

"You have any classes?" You ask.

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place.

"Sucks," is all you can come up with.

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?"

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself.

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'.

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?"

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals.

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it.

"God dammit."

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear.

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to."

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan.

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole.

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane.

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name.

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit.

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air.

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess.

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat.

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate.

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

#miche zacharias x reader #mike zacharias x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #mels prima vista #mels frat house

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sweettodo · 4 years ago

Text

eren jaeger x reader.

includes : smut, college au, bad plot, enemies to lovers-ish, hate sex, mention of anal play, swearing.

wc : 3k.

thank you for 700 followers ! and since it was just mr. jaeger’s bday, why not a little fic ?

—

"This is your fault, you shouldn't have let the door shut, the door gets jammed."

"How was I supposed to know?" he replies coolly, you shove past him, frantically grabbing the doorknob and turning it, back and forth. It was no use, the old wooden door was jammed tight into the frame, not even he could get it to budge.

"Are you hard of hearing?"

"Out of all people, I get stuck in a dingy bedroom with you."

—

It wasn't the best. It was border-line decrepit, all sorts of unkempt; but admittedly, it was all you and your friends could afford.

Doing what you could to stay afloat with rent, not to mention your thousands of dollars in college debt, you couldn't necessarily afford to stay on campus; so, you sought out any possible preventative strategy not to go back home, what any adolescent college student would do.

"Well, it's homey... I guess?" Connie announces, cautiously seating a box on the ground.

Beside him, Jean wipes his forehead, "are we getting paid for this?" he questions.

You raise an eyebrow, "Yeah, sure, whatever you want."

"Thanks, boys, that's enough for now, hungry?" Sasha smiles, placing a pizza box on the kitchen counter.

Truly, the house wasn't that bad, though there were some problems like any old home, like the creaky floorboards which dipped downwards in some areas of the house, or the shudders Jean had to nail back into place, or maybe that one non-working bathroom.

Yes, there were some issues, and you knew one thing for sure.

Do not close your bedroom door.

It jammed, and it jammed easily, which you found out the hard way when you had to have your two roomies pry the door open the previous day, hence the rock from outside being positioned to stop the door from closing entirely.

You all sit on the floor in the living room, devouring pizza and drinking as you all conversed and laughed.

While Connie is getting up to pour himself another drink, there's a knock on the door, "oh, finally- thought he was gonna bail on us!"

Connie quickly places his cup down and jogs to the front door, all eyes follow him.

"Eren!"

"What took you all day? Connie and I did practically everything!" Jean complains. Your face heats, fists clenching.

"I did not invite him." You grit, Mikasa glancing at you, concerned.

"Calm down, he's more man-power."

"We've done so much without him, why does he even bother?"

Eren dismisses your complaining, he sits down and grabs a piece of pizza, "it's not like a chose to come here, Mikasa wanted me to."

Your eyes drill into Mikasa's skull, she knew how you felt about him, and she knows how he feels about you. She brushes off your daggers.

"I'm not here to help you," he proceeds, "you wouldn't catch me dead."

"Well, while Jean and I run to the store to get more nails, how 'bout you help the girls?" Connie says, ignoring Eren's last remark.

"I don't need his help, I'm okay on my own."

"Y/n- take his help." Sasha nudges, "free labor."

Your perspective of Eren was nothing short of revulsion, his only conversation piece is how many women he's slept with, how he struts around like he owns the place, he's quite contemptuous, selfish, and arrogant.

He felt similar towards you, often the first one to ruin his day. The way you were so prideful, he too thought you were arrogant, he hated how you made him feel inferior, you were a challenge- you both were complacent and it drove him fucking nuts, as did you.

Standing from the floor, you brush your hands on your shorts, "I'll be in my room," you mutter, trudging up the stairs.

"You outta' help her, Eren," Sasha says, watching you walk up the stairs, "please."

The brunette shakes his head, "hell fuckin' no."

"Eren," Mikasa speaks lowly, her tone compelling, he rolls his eyes.

Picking up the screwdriver from the floor, pushing your hair out of your face, you get down on your knees and lift the bottom half of your bed frame, the little screw in your empty hand, you groan.

"Need a little help?"

Your head snaps around, "get out of my room, now."

"I thought you were this rough-tough- independent woman?" he ridicules.

You ignore him, "can't even put a bed together, how pitiful."

He steps closer, leaning against the door in your room, which was propped against the wall with the rock, his arms crossed tightly against his chest, "get out of the way."

"No. Eren I got it."

"Just get up and let me do it."

"I'll ask Mikasa, she's stronger than you anyways."

"Give me a break, how about you swallow your pride for once, you can't do everything, y/n."

He scoffs, attempting to absorb the insult, "plus, she isn't here, she and Sasha left." Your eyes widen, feeling much more uncomfortable than moments before. You gently place the bed frame on the floor in front of your knees, sighing, "let me do it-"

He slowly stands from his position, his foot knocking the rock out of place as he leans off the door following behind him, as he steps further into the room, you leap towards the shutting door.

"Eren! The fucking door!" you cry, seeing it shut mere inches from your grasp, "it doesn't open from the inside!" you shout, scrambling to your feet, Eren quickly turns, his hands landing against the old wood as he tries to pull it open, but it was too late.

"This is your fault, you shouldn't have let the door shut, the door gets jammed."

"Are you hard of hearing?"

"Out of all people, I get stuck in a dingy bedroom with you."

"Spare me your kind words, Jaeger." You grumble.

"Where's your phone? Call Mikasa or Jean." Eren pats his pockets, in search of his phone.

"It's downstairs- my phone."

"So is mine," he sighs, sticking his hands in his pockets, "aren't I lucky; stuck in a room with a prissy bitch."

"Do you like making me mad, Eren? Because I'm not one of your hoes you can insult and get away with it." Gritting your teeth, he smiles cheekily, God you can't fucking stand him.

He remains silent, while tensions rise within the walls of your room, avoiding his eyes, you uncomfortably shuffle your feet, looking at the wood flooring beneath you, Eren is beside you, pacing, "I'll break the fucking thing down."

"You better not. Or else you're paying for it."

"I'm not paying for shit," he contends, "it's your shitty house, your shitty door, my shitty luck.”

You face him, he rolls his eyes, "if you break my door, Jaeger..." you threaten, sticking your index finger in his face.

"What are you gonna do? Y/n?"

You cross your arms, he shrugs and turns around on his heels, grabbing the doorknob and trying to pry the door open, he steps back and cracks his knuckles, "Eren, don't you fucking do it." You grab him by the back of his shirt, he stops.

"What are you gonna do?" he leans down to meet your height, tilting his head, "gonna punish me?"

You gulp, "how about I fix your bed while I'm here, since I'm so nice."

"No." You spit, "I'll do it, you stay in the corner and shut up." Pushing him away, but he stands still, a smug look still on his face.

"Why be so difficult?"

"Why do you always need the last word?" anger seething within you, little pieces of hair falling from the loose bun the hair tie he had holding back his bangs, you looked in his eyes, just waiting for him to speak.

"Do you like being stubborn?" Eren steps closer, as a result, you're stepping backward, and soon he figuratively has you backed into a corner.

Eren returns the glare, your heart thumping out of your chest, throat dry and closing by every second he kept his brutal eyes on yours.

You swallow, "always trying to make me mad, right?"

"Not everything is about you, Jaeger."

"No, but it is about you though," he hums, "don't you want me to shut up? How about you try to shut me up- since it's always about you."

You hadn't picked up on the sudden rush of adrenaline that pumped into your veins, which made you - quite literally - want to crumble, but you remained dominant. His rather vibrant eyes were tough ones to overpower, you guys just stood there, trying to wield your dominance over the other.

You two were power-hungry.

Eren on the other hand was trying like hell to prevail calm, you made him so mad, made him fucking furious, he contemplated leaping out of the second-story window, though one thing was keeping his feet grounded, looming over you.

And that was defeating you.

"I reckon you have more of a problem with me rather than the other way ‘round, you don't like it when I argue with you, Eren?" you teasingly pout, snickering in his face.

His eyes are low, seductive even, you had never seen him in this light, he looked restless, but he was undoubtedly annoyed.

It's his turn to smile, his fingers snaking around your wrist, pulling you down onto the mattress which lacked pillows, sheets, and a headboard.

You comply, his fingers anchoring into the back of your hair, pulling your head back, your neck training, “you gonna shut me up? Y/n?" you're speechless, seems as if he beat you to this little game.

“You piss me off. Jaeger.” You sneer, he leans down, face inches from your own.

“Yeah? I make you mad?” he purrs, dipping his head down towards your neck and pressing his lips against your ear lobe, chills erupt on every inch of your body.

You're left speechless once again, breathless as his hand slips down the curve of your waist, up to your thigh, stopping at your knee, “yeah... You do.”

He uses your knee to push your legs onto the bed, his hand guiding you, he swiftly gets on the bed, back against the wall; placing his palm on the back of your neck, pulling you between his legs, trapping you as he's kissing you firmly.

You're taken aback, but return the kiss, his soft lips colliding with yours, he tasted amazing, but you wouldn't admit that to him.

As if the gates had finally bursted open, your motions are picking up speed, he’s fiercely pulling at your shorts and without a second thought, you're rushing to tug his shirt over his head, giving hardly a second for air before you're kissing the man again.

What’s gotten into you?

You adjust so he can pull your shorts over your knees, flinging them across the room, your hands wandering up and down his chest, feeling his toned stomach beneath your fingers.

His big hands are grabbing you by the back of the thighs, pulling you closer to him so he can easily pin your back to the bed. With a huff, he kisses further down your neck, his lips tickling your skin as he begins to lift the thin shirt towards your chest, kissing down your stomach.

Eren can't take it anymore, all that was going through his mind was how soft your skin was, how good you smelled, the way he felt you shiver under him when he kisses the sweet spot on the side of your neck.

He uses the pad of his thumb to press against your damp panties, you gasp, his thumb locating your clit instantly and applying pressure on the swollen nub.

“Stop teasing, Eren.”

He smirks, slowly applying little circles over the thin undergarments, pinning one thigh down at the same time, he watches your face scrunch.

He leans down between your legs to kiss you again, pulling down his jeans in the meantime, you feel his erection through his boxers, pressing against the crevis between your thigh and cunt.

He sits up, yanking down your panties along with his boxers, your eyes nearly fall out of your head, catching a glimpse at the sheer size of the man.

He spits in his palm, messily stroking his cock a few times before making sure your leg is secure on his shoulder.

No words needed to be spoken- no conversation could be made at the fact things were moving so fast, similar to hungry animals, like a switch flipped and here you two were, soaking for a man you despised.

His tip slips up and down towards your entrance, repeatedly teasing you against your folds with his throbbing tip.

Finally, he gradually slips past your entrance, his head rolls back, body virtually falling weak as he soaks in those spongy tight walls, sucking him in immediately, “fuck,” is all he can sputter out, taking his time to seep deeper inside you.

He stretches you out, Eren’s veins which were wrapped around the base of his cock pressing against your electrified nerves, your back arching, quietly moaning as he eventually stuffs you with as much as you can take.

“You hate me? This pussy sure doesn't.” he grunts, retreating before rocking his hips back against you.

Your leg drops from his shoulder, “on your hands and knees, now.” he demands- not having to tell you twice, he’s quickly grabbing you, and with ease, you're now on all fours, exposed from the waist down, Eren’s hands spreading you open, pulling your ass apart so he can get the perfect view of his cock fucking into you.

This gives Eren the chance to now fit his whole length into you, crying out into the bare mattress, feeling his tip stab against the entrance of your cervix.

He pulls out, one hand steadying your waist and the other holding your ass, “such a tight cunt, can't even fit it all.”

Eren splits you open, thrusting into you while simultaneously pulling your hips against his, skin slapping, the both of you moaning as you're already releasing cream all over his cock.

You feel his thumb caress the skin around the valley of your ass, “such a pretty little hole, want me to fill this one too?”

With no hesitation, you're crying out a sloppy mantra of ‘yes’, and he follows your decrees, his thumb slipping past your unoccupied hole.

You instantly clench around him, the pressure of another hole being stuffed.

Nearing another orgasm, he ruts his hips against your thighs, seeing white, your stomach tightens, body attempting to escape the harsh pressure, unraveling from the arch you were trying hard to maintain.

“Again?” Eren’s amazed at the sight, your cum seeping from your pussy, soaking the little patch of curly hair above his cock, down your thighs and onto the mattress, your leg quivering as he spares you no mercy, shamelessly fucking into you.

He holds your hips steady, “Eren, s’ big, I can't-”

“Can't what? Can't take it? I thought you were such a strong girl?” he taunts, cruelly rutting into you.

You're drooling, tears falling down your face as he fucks you senseless, “fuck you,” you mewl, he slows, but still keeps up his strong and stabbing thrusts, your body still jolting every time his cock hits your cervix.

“Fuck-in’ hate you, hate you s’much.”

“Yeah? You hate me? But look at you,” he hooks his thumb deeper into your asshole, “you’re crying for more.” You wail, gasping for air, you craved more, the way his hips knocked against your ass, sending shock waves throughout your body.

“I think I love this sloppy little pussy, too bad you're such a bitch.”

He grabs you by the roots of your hair, fingers hooking and balling your hair into a tight fist, pulling you upwards, gasping for air, “Eren-” you moan, balls slapping against your slick folds and raw clit.

His thrust becomes more sporadic, nearing climax, he savors your warm and squeezing walls before you hear him hiss loudly, his head falling back, eyes screwing shut as he's dumping a load into your abused and stretched little pussy.

“Such a good cunt for an annoying bitch.” He mumbles.

Eren rocks his hips into you, making sure your cunt is sucking and every ounce of his seed is emptied from his cock.

He swears, softening cock slipping out of you as he quickly drops down onto the bed, wiping the sweat from his forehead, you're barely able to flip over, holes still twitching.

All you two can manage to do is catch your breath, the air knocked out of both of you, his seed mixed with your own still oozing out of your cunt, and onto the bed.

He sits up, chest still quickly rising and falling before he's moving off the bed and throwing his clothes on, throwing you your shorts, “get up so it looks like we did something productive,” your head in the clouds, you try to put your shorts on, he sees you and mutters indecent things under his breath, “what? Did I fuck you stupid or something?” you stand off the bed, and he quickly lifts the bed frame off the floor and pops the long screw in.

You peek out the window, the sky a dark milky blue- and to your surprise, there are your friends’ cars.

“Connie, you owe me twenty bucks!”

“Eren, I think they're already home.” You mumble, pulling open the window to get some air before walking back towards the door of your bedroom, pounding on the door, “open the door for me please!”

You give it a few moments, standing there in a daze- legs trembling.

You try to maintain the steadiness of your legs before someone struggles to push the door in, essentially un-jamming the door. Jean is there, with a clown-like grin on his face, Eren looks at him and groans, shaking his head before Jean begins to speak.

#eren jeager smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren x y/n #attack on titan #aot #smut #lemon #attack on titan smut #aot eren #eren attack on titan #enemies to lovers

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strawbxrryneptune · 4 years ago

Text

HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT

You're the head cheerleader at UA.

We're gonna say its UA university, so like class 4-A.

Bakugou is your boyfriend

He plays on the football team 😫

But he got suspended for a little because he saw Deku (yes I'm adding Deku in this, @ me why dont you)

Deku plays on the rival team, he switched schools cause he felt like he wasnt reaching his full potential.

Bakugou basically broke Deku's mf leg, it's a surprise he wasnt kicked off the team, but the he's the star player.

The only reason the UA football team is even in the nationals is cause of Bakugou.

Anyway, Kiri and Sero were roasting the absolute shit outta him for getting suspended.

"PLEASE- HE COULDN'T EVEN KEEP THE BEST SPOT ON THE TEAM KEKEKEK"

*LMAO* "DAMN BAKUBRO, YOU GOT FLAMED"

Bakugou was ready to blast all their asses to the moon and back, until Denki said that he probably couldnt even keep a spot on the cheer squad, it's even more brutal than football and the outfits are too risque.

It went dead silent when poor bby said that, cause everyone knew not to challenge Bakugou.

He immediately stood up from his spot on the couch in the study hall, marching over to Denki and grabbing him by the collar.

"More brutal than football? Hah, you're out of your goddamn mind, Sparky. I can do that shit anyday, even in that girly ass skirt."

Denki smirked

"Wanna bet?"

And that's how he found himself wearing a custom made UA cheer uniform, face red in embarrassment but still determined to not chicken out. If he got through this, he'd get $50 from everyone in the squad except for Mina

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

When Bakugou had come to you, red in the face and hands shaking in embarrassment, asking for a cheer uniform, you almost passed out in shock.

The Katsuki Bakugou, star Football player, top of his class in strength and brains, wanted to cheer? Nah, you were buggin. He wouldn't tell you why, only a harsh, "You gonna give me the uniform or not?" Before giving you a quick and kind of violent kiss on the cheek, scampering off with the bright orange fabric in his hands.

Leading up to the big game for the finals, he would hang around during practice and watch you command the girls, having them jump and twist into complicated positions. You spot him peeping and called him over, teasingly asking him if he could do a cartwheel, not expecting him to actually do one. He has almost perfect form, a little wobbly on the drop down but beautiful nonetheless. You pursed your lips, looking him up and down before clapping your hands loudly, causing him to jump.

"Change of plans, ladies! We now have a new member joining the team, at least for the game next week. I'll need you to be understanding and patient in teaching him the routine, and no making fun!!"

The other girls nod understandingly, surrounding him despite his yells and protests.

You smirk to yourself.

This is gonna be so much fun.

♡♡

A week passes, and you're in the changing room with the girls, handing out their uniforms. You get to the bottom of the bin, and realize theres a pantsuit. You widen your eyes in shock. If the pantsuit is in there, than that means-

"Y/N IM GOING TO KILL YOU"

Shit.

You jog out of the locker rooms, looking around until you see a shaking head of ash blonde hair. You make your way over to him, stifling a laugh when you see him wearing large sweats, the outline of the orange skirt peeking out. He doesnt have a sweatshirt on, so you're blessed with the sight of his pecs and abs bulging out, sweat already dripping down his body due to the heat of the stadium and the embarrassment racking his body.

"I'm so sorry, Katsu. I didnt realize I gave you the girl version of the uniform."

He scoffs, subconsciously reaching up to tug at the crop top.

"Just get me the damn boy version, you shitty-"

"ALRIIIGHT EVERYONE, ARE YOU READY TO RUMBLE!!"

You both jump at the sound of the announcers voice, the crowd roaring back.

"WELL THEN GET READY, FOLKS. WE HAVE A WONDERFUL PREFORMANCE FROM THE UA CHEER SQAUD. GIVE EM A HAND."

You look at Bakugou in apology, before rushing the girls out, gesturing for him to hurry as you run out onto the field, the UA side cheering loudly while the rival team boos. Bakugou let's out a huff, shoving his sweats down and running out with you, not looking up. The minute the crowd sees him running with you, the stadium fills with laughter and wolf whistles, some of his teammates fanning themselves in mockery. He growls at them, intimidating but not scary due to the bright orange crop top and skirt he's donning.

The music starts and everyone gets into formation, Bakugou at the far right and you at the left. You start to do your routine, shaking your hips and yelling along to the music, moving around and doing flips. You form a pyramid, Bakugou on the base and you somewhat in the middle. The top girl flips off, does a twirl in the sir and lands in front of you, shouting the UA cheer before you all follow suit, cheering on your team while shimmying around. You turn to see how Bakugou is doing during the end, and the sight that greets you is heaven;

He's heaving for hair, sweat slicking down his hair and dripping down his abs, the skirt flowing and moving along with his thick thigh, which tremble from exertion. He's panting hard, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to nail a pose, wobbling slightly. You gulp hard, shaking your head to clear the thoughts starting to surface, thoughts of fucking him in that uniform, sucking his cock from under the skirt, riding him in your uniform, lifting the hem to see where you're connected. Ripping the crop top to see his puffy nipples, making him moan and tremble underneath you from the pleasure, calling him a cute little slut for wearing that little piece of fabric.

You break from your thought when the music cuts out, roars and screams deafening, even the opposing team cheering for you and the beefy man in the skirt.

You all bow and trot off the center felikd, making your way to the benches you drink water before the team starts playing. Bakugou makes his way over to you, gulping down water from his bottle. Some of it spills out his mouth, rolling down his throat, scattering when his Adam's apple bobs. It makes a trail into the swell of his pecs, disappearing. You look up his body slowly, face heating in embarrassment when you meet his eyes, a cocky smirk on his face when he realizes you were ogling him.

"Ya see sumthin' you want, Baby?"

You grit your teeth at him, grabbing his collar and dragging him off into the space between the bleachers.

He sputters at you when you reach under his skirt and grab the barely concealed bugle there, smirking up at him.

"See sumthin you want, Baby?"

You taunt, rubbing him through the fabric of his boxers.

He groans from above you, muttering out a breathy "Its from adrenaline-"

Before pushing his lips against yours, sucking your lip into his mouth while his hips stutter against your hands. You pull away, grinning when you see him chase your lips.

"Are you sure it's from adrenaline, or is it cause you were prancin around out there like some pretty little whore, hm?"

Bakugou clenches his eyes shut, blushing hard and growling low in his throat.

"Shut the fuck up. I didnt do it for that-"

"Well you still did it, and you looked so good, too, 'Suki. Wanted to suck your cock the whole time."

He whimpers at that, hips moving forward to push against your hand more, pre leaking out and making his boxers sticky against your palm.

"Mm, you like that? Like me praising you? Calling you a good boy and telling you how much I wanted your fat cock shoved down my throat? "

His head falls against your shoulder, moaning into the side of your neck as his balls tighten, cum soaking his boxers and dripping out onto your hand. You lick up his neck, making him shudder.

"There you go, pretty boy."

♡♡

When the game is over, he stomps over to the squad, snatching their money aggressively before making him way back to you, scowling when you land a harsh smack against his ass.

"Is it just me, or is Bakugou glowing?"

♡♡♡

@hanji-is-life your Bakugou in a skirt inspired me to write this Bakugou in a skirt.

Masterlist

#bakugou thirst #katsuki bakugou smut #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugo smut #cheerleader!bakugo

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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Quantum Entanglement

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Words: 6.4k (oops)

Rating: 18+ (get outta here ya children)

Summary: Steve Rogers decides to disappear, take some time for himself in the solitude of a small town where he meets you.

Warnings: p in v. oral fem receiving. size kink (reader is much smaller than Steve in more ways than one). soft (very very soft) fem dom.

AN: This is stupid soft. Just simping all over the gd place. I'm so sorry but my baby Steve deserves nothing but the purest, sweetest form of love and that's what he's getting, though I imagine he likes to be ordered around. Took me way too long to feel good about this.

---

There had been the snap. And then the resurrection. Steve had lost everyone he loved and then had most of them returned, and it felt good to go back to normal, in some ways. In other ways, it was stifling.

As the world reeled and tried to figure out how to "be normal" in a time that was anything but, normalcy felt forced, rushed, exaggerated. He wanted to be in this world, of course. The 1940s were no longer his home, and Steve had everything he wanted here. But he didn't feel complete. A piece was always missing, something from a past life, that he couldn't quite name but knew he had to find.

So he disappeared. Went undercover as some might call it. Bucky knew, of course, and Sam on some level. But to the rest of the world, he had slipped quietly back into the past to live the rest of his life. In reality, he'd slipped into Herrington, Massachusetts, a small coastal town where he was invisible to the world.

He'd found a little house, a cottage on the beach, and settled in completely. He didn't need a job, the government was more than willing to pay him a severance check of some sort, but he took one anyway, stocking the local grocery store and delivering groceries to the elderly when they ordered. It was just antiquated enough to remind him of a faraway time, of the past, but didn't force him to give up his wifi and color television. That was something he'd come to love.

And that was where he met you. You, the petite spitfire with a bone to pick with the entire world. Fierce, loyal, and slightly terrifying when double-crossed. The first time he met you, you had come out of your great-aunt's house shaking a fist over the groceries.

"I told Mr. Pierce," you were yelling, "not to skimp me on the meat." Mr. Pierce was the grocery store owner. And the meat in question was a roast, for what purpose, Steve wasn't sure, but one that apparently did not satisfy your desires.

You hadn't been the one to answer the door, that was your great-aunt Agnes, a kind, leather-faced woman who liked to tip Steve a healthy amount for "carrying all those heavy groceries for a silly old lady like me."

"It's no problem ma'am," he'd replied and stepped back toward his motorcycle, recently decked out with a basket on the back to transport deliveries. Then you'd chased him down the road until he noticed you and stopped, shouting all the way.

"When you see him," you said, your finger wagging in his face, puffing and out of breath from your yelling and running, "tell the bastard that's the last time he gets away with making me pay for his shitty cuts of meat."

Steve didn't really know what to say, but then your face softened, your voice calmed, and you took a deep breath. Maybe the panicked look on his face had made you have a change of heart. "I apologize for yelling at you, I know you're just the messenger. But that slimy son-of-a-bitch is going to get what's coming for him someday."

"I'll let him know," Steve replied with half a smile on his face.

"You aren't from around here are you?" you had asked, a sudden look of curiosity in your bright eyes.

Steve nodded. "Just moved here."

"Look, I'm really sorry." You stuck out your hand and introduced yourself, and Steve had found that hand to be surprisingly supple and calloused for its tiny size. "Let me make it up to you. Aunt Agnes seems to like you. We're having a potluck tonight, her place. Why don't you come by and meet the neighbors? I'm sure they'd love a new face, especially one as handsome and friendly as yours. Maybe make some friends, even."

You were being surprisingly friendly and sincere, and Steve had no choice but to accept the invitation.

So that's how he ended up in an old lady's backyard, handing off a bowl of his mother's jello salad (it was a potluck after all), and accepting a beer from a man who looked similar enough to be your brother (a cousin, it turned out). You didn't even notice his arrival, flying about, getting everything set up, taking part in the appropriate amount of small talk. Earlier, when you'd chased Steve down the road, your hair had been flung all about your head, wisps of it sticking out from all directions and looking positively a mess. You'd been wearing jeans with mud on the knees and a t-shirt that had more holes than necessary for your arms and head. Now, your hair was pinned back and tamed and you floated about in a soft blue sundress, revealing a delicate plane of skin across your shoulders and tan arms and legs.

The calloused hands and muddy jeans made sense now as well. The backyard of Aunt Agnes' house was primarily a garden, not only beautiful rose bushes and creeping wisteria but rows and rows of fruits and vegetables, cucumbers, tomatoes, watermelon, strawberries. The work was obviously the product of a talented gardener.

Aunt Agnes was the one to welcome him in, having noticed Steve before you did and taking his arm. She began to talk, of you and the neighborhood and her many, many family members. She introduced them one by one, though most of the names he immediately forgot. But it was a blessing to not be recognized and he relished the feeling. Sure, he'd grown out his beard and his hair was a bit longer than the standard military high and tight, and he wore a flannel with the sleeves rolled up instead of red, white, and blue spangles, but it still amazed him that he could pass through the world like this.

Eventually, the conversations became too much, and Steve excused himself to the kitchen to find a drink while he waited for the food to be ready. Really he just wanted some silence, a relief from society. But you'd beat him there, and, ever the busy bee, were scrambling to fill a cooler with more ice.

"Steve!" you exclaimed when you saw him, pleasant surprise plastered across your face. "I'm so glad you came."

You reached out and gave him a hug that took Steve so much by surprise he almost forgot to return it. It was shockingly warm, your arms around his neck, and though he had to stoop down to your level, he wrapped his arms around your waist anyways.

"I hope they didn't overwhelm you out there. My family can be a lot."

"No, not at all. Just needed some quiet. I'll let you get back to work."

"I could actually use your help if you don't mind."

You directed him into the front room toward a stack of boxes, cases of drinks he assumed. When Steve returned to the kitchen, all four boxes piled in his arms, you nearly dropped the glasses in your hands in shock. You recovered quickly, trying to remain polite despite your poorly hidden astonishment, but Steve could already tell you were trying to compute how he had managed to carry over a hundred pounds of drinks in one go.

"You can, um, put them on the counter I guess," you managed to stutter out. Your sudden flustered state was amusing, and Steve noticed he liked the way you seemed almost embarrassed, cheeks flushed pink, though he had no idea why you should feel that way.

But then you picked back up with your normal bubbly chatter, and Steve found himself lingering longer and longer in the kitchen with you until he realized neither of you were doing anything but talking, the work abandoned in lieu of discussions about the town, your stall at the farmers market, and eventually, very naturally, the passing of your parents. The slip into deep conversation was easy, surprisingly easy, easier than it had ever been with anyone else, even though Steve felt himself having to lie a bit about his past. Sure, he could admit to being from Brooklyn and having no family and his stint in the military, but that was about the extent of it. He found himself wanting to tell you more but refraining.

When your cousin called that food was ready from the backyard, the jolt back to reality was abrupt and almost unwelcome, until you smiled and allowed him to put a hand on your back, pulling Steve out to enjoy some food.

As night fell, lights twinkled on in the backyard, and the summer heat reduced to a light thrum as the breeze from the ocean swept through the town. Fireflies glowed in the darkness of the low trees behind the house and you seemed to glow as well, good food and friendly conversation lighting your face up with joy. You caught Steve's eye several times during the night, noticing him watching you from across the garden, but he didn't care. He liked that his attention made you smile.

Finally, the party began to dwindle, as parents with young kids trickled out, followed by the older folks, heading off to bed. Soon, even Aunt Agnes turned in and only the cousins close to you in age remained. They pulled out the stronger bottles of alcohol, sitting in plastic chairs and passing shots around the barbeque that still glowed hot with coals. Steve accepted every pass of vodka that came his way, despite knowing it wouldn't get him even remotely drunk. But the camaraderie of the moment helped ease a bit of that gaping hole in his soul so he clung to it as best he could. And you were sitting next to him, insisting he take a sip, and again he couldn't turn you down.

"And then Jack nearly sunk the boat in the bay," you were saying, telling the story of one of your cousin's finer moments. "Your dad almost killed us."

"Oh you want to bring that up?" he teased. "How about the time you snuck out and Aunt Agnes caught you making out with Michael on the beach."

You blushed bright red at the reminder but protested that was years ago. Then another cousin brought up his own late-night escapades and you devolved into a fit of giggles, leaning so far out of your chair that Steve had to catch you before you slipped right to the ground. Your hand gripped his to recover but, to his surprise, you never removed it, even as you righted yourself in your seat. Your hand just remained in his, your small fingers wrapped in his large ones, as you turned to pester him into telling a story.

"What about you Steve? Tell us an embarrassing story."

He looked around at the group and they leaned in expectantly, curious to know more about the stranger who was quickly becoming a friend. Steve didn't know what to say, most of his stories involving things he wasn't yet ready to reveal about himself. So he picked one from long ago.

"I once picked a fight with a guy at a bar. He was a bit of a Nazi. Got my ass kicked. Fortunately, I had a friend to back me up or he definitely would have killed me."

Everyone looked shocked. "But you're so strong," someone spoke up. "Look at you. How could anyone beat you in a fight?"

Steve shrugged, not wanting to admit to it being a pre-serum story. "Guess I'm a bit of a pacifist."

He turned to you to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were wide, sparkling with mischief and curiosity and a hint of disbelief. For a moment Steve thought you had figured it out, figured out who he was, but then you started giggling again and the only thing keeping you in your seat was his hand in yours.

"That's not embarrassing Steve, that's just the most fucking noble thing I've ever heard. Making us all look bad."

Your teasing words made his heart flutter in his chest and he felt like he could get used to this crowd.

Eventually, the coals of the barbeque started to wink out, and the cousins excused themselves for the night, heading home on foot to the various houses they had come from. It seemed no one lived too far apart in this town. Suddenly, the backyard was quiet.

"Can I give you a hand cleaning up?" Steve asked, not wanting to leave you with the job that looked a bit overwhelming to him.

You looked around and shrugged, a little tipsy but fully aware that it was a big mess. "I'll probably just take care of it in the morning. Can you just help me get the dishes inside?"

Steve obediently gathered up plates and cups, filling the dishwasher in several trips. Finally, the last were inside and you stood in the kitchen filling the sink to wash the pots and pans while Steve tried awkwardly to find a way to say goodbye.

"Um, thank you," he said at last, "for welcoming me into your community. It means a lot. I'll, uh, see you later I guess. Have a good night."

You stopped your scrubbing to look up at him, bubbles up to your elbows, your face flushed from the warm night air and the alcohol.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

You paused, hesitant, eyes searching his face for confirmation of a mutual feeling. "Do you ever feel like you were meant to meet someone? For a reason?"

The question hit him like a ton of bricks, and he realized that this night had made him feel exactly that way, that somehow he was meant to end up here and meet you, of all people. Why else had there been an instant connection unless this was just the way you were with everyone?

But your question made him think otherwise. You had to be special. Steve, in that moment, could do nothing but nod in affirmation. And then, like you had both had the same thought at the same moment, you were meeting him halfway, rising on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck, and kissing him. Really, truly, kissing him.

It was like that missing piece had found itself. You slotted your soul into his and Steve was pressing you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you, and lifting you so he didn't have to bend down to reach you. Your wet hands tangled into his slightly too long hair, pulling him impossibly closer, tasting one another's tongues.

And that was the start of it, of late-night motorcycle rides down the causeway, of Saturdays spent on the beach that tapered into drinks with friends, of dinners filled with your chatter and smiles and laughter, and Steve couldn't believe how lucky he was. He was not used to this feeling, of building friendship and companionship and perhaps even love. And he certainly wasn't used to the intense desire to reach out and pinch your ass every time you showed up at his house wearing those gardening jeans, high-waisted and tight and so goddamn cute.

But he never did, was never sure how you'd react. You kissed him, a lot in fact, every morning that he came over and every night that he dropped you off at home. And you never shied away from telling him how handsome he was, how much you liked his hands and his arms and his short beard, how sweet he was and kind and soft and gentle. So many words, words that made his head spin and his world wobble and sway. But it never came to be more than that, never late at night when he was thinking of you most. And oh lord, did he think about you, how your small frame might fit against his in bed while you spooned and slept, or how tight you'd be if he fucked you until the sun rose. He didn't particularly like sleeping in bed, it was too soft for his taste and he tended to take the couch or even the floor most nights, but he would sleep in bed for you if you would just tell him that was what you wanted.

It was like you were waiting for the right moment. And apparently, that moment was July 4th, during the annual celebration. Steve had whispered to you that it was consequently also his birthday, and had begged you to keep that a secret, but it seemed you had simply forgotten the fact entirely. The day passed without mention that Steve was turning 39 (105 if he'd been really counting) and you kissed him as the fireworks exploded over the ocean, sitting in the sand, hands tangled together. He thought the two of you would sit through the show, but then you were standing and pulling him to his feet as well and slipping away as everyone else's faces were turned to the sky.

At your house, you pulled a small cake from the fridge, just big enough to split between two people, and lit a couple of candles as you sat next to him at the kitchen table. Of course, you hadn't forgotten.

"Make a wish," you said with a happy smile. So he did, hoping this summer would never end. "What did you wish for?"

"Can't tell you, otherwise it won't come true," he replied. But then you pouted and he lost all resolve. "How about I show you instead?"

The look on your face said it all, shock mixed with intrigue and the mischief he had noticed that first night almost a week ago. So he reached down and tugged your chair closer, forcing you to face him with your knees between his. And then he leaned over and kissed you, taking your small cheeks in his large palms, putting all the power of his suppressed feelings behind it. He hoped you understood that he wanted more than to just kiss you, he wanted to occupy space inside you, fill you, complete you. Steve could feel your smile against his lips.

You pulled away. "Did you wish that I was dessert instead of the cake?

"I might have. Should we make my wish come true?"

Again you smiled, bright and guiding like a lighthouse torch, and something in your demeanor changed. Instantly, you were relenting to his touch, letting him pull you further into his lap, straddling his waist and settling into him like that was where you were meant to be. The quiet house, probably as old as him in this New England town, creaked in the silence of the night, only occasionally disturbed by the bang of a firework. But it all faded away with you in his arms.

You fit perfectly, just as Steve had hoped.

"You gonna be gentle with me, big man?" you whispered, that same brilliant smile on your face, wiggling as close to him as possible, the fingers of one hand tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck, the others tracing down the point of his sharp nose and pressing against his soft lips. "You gonna fuck me good? Be a good boy?"

Oh, Christ. Steve nearly lost his mind with your hips so tight against his, lost it at your words that made his heart race and color rise to his cheeks. He could be good. Really damn good. You seemed to know something about him that Steve didn't even know about himself, of how much he liked your praise, your commanding tone. If there was anything he was good at, it was taking orders.

"You just keep telling me what to do and I'm all yours," he mumbled against your fingers, the thump of his heart beating in time with yours somewhere deep in your chest, echoes of one another in the silence of the house. Your hand came to grip his chin, pushing another kiss against his mouth, a kiss with lips parted in a sigh, the mingled palate of you and him, like a glass of wine on the beach and chocolate melted on the tongue, sweeping over taste buds and breathed into starved lungs.

"Mm, you taste so good. Like you were created just for me, don't you think?" you asked.

"Built from the best material, just for you." Built to love you, he wanted to say. Steve shut up instead.

You hummed with pleasure and the hand on his chin gripped a little harder, a little more suggestively. He opened his mouth obediently as you slipped your thumb between his lips, and he let you press it against the soft muscle of his tongue. You wanted him to taste you, so he did, his teeth biting gently down on the pad of your finger, another pleasant hum running down your body and straight to his groin.

He waited for your instruction.

"Undress me."

He complied, obediently. Steve's large hands hiked your sundress up around your waist, revealing the softness of your hips. His fingers smoothed up the length of your thighs, kneading at the flesh of your ass that he had so longed to touch. Your reaction was music to his ears, a soft moan leaving your lips and breathed against his, and Steve closed his eyes, arousal spreading through his body at the thought that he was making you react this way. His length hardened, tight in his pants, pressed against the thin layer of fabric that covered the heat of your core. The thought that he might not fit flickered through his mind but it dissipated at the feeling of your fingers pressing into the rough stubble of his jawline.

Steve's hands continued to travel further up your body, taking time to release the zipper of your dress down the length of your spine, and you answered his quiet, "can I?" by pulling slightly away and lifting your arms over your head. The dress landed somewhere in the kitchen and Steve dragged you close again, arms wrapped around your back to encompass you completely, his lips finding purchase against the skin of your neck.

"Look at you, so perfect," Steve mumbled, face pressed into your hair. If he had looked up he would have seen you blush, but he was too preoccupied letting his senses discover every piece of you he could touch, smell, or taste. He wanted to envelop you, inch by inch, roaming and discovering and satiating his curiosity, but you dragged his attention back to your face.

"Hey, eyes up here," you said, pulling his face toward yours and locking gazes. The intensity of your eye contact was stunning, but there was something else behind those eyes, something other than intense attraction and unsatisfied arousal. Was it doubt? Insecurity? The reason why you kissed him for so many nights and never asked for more? You were searching for something, and it came in the form of a question. "You won't leave me after this, right?"

There it was, the bit of insecurity, a fear of loss, of transience, of lacking control. Someone had hurt you before. Maybe that's why you approached everything in life with such ferocity and sincerity. But Steve would never hurt you like that, never let you feel that way again. He hoped you could see it in his eyes the way he felt about you, but words would be more reassurance. "I'm yours tonight. And tomorrow. And the day and week and month and year after that, if you'll have me that long. Whatever it is you need, I'll give it to you."

You blinked and then smiled and pressed another quick kiss to his lips before murmuring, "touch me" against them. So he did, trailing his hands over every sliver of skin before him. He felt the goosebumps rising in their wake, the downy hair on your legs and arms, the heat of your core against him, grinding almost imperceptibly to find some kind of friction, any friction. He wanted to touch you so desperately, but he got the sense that you needed to take the lead, that it would give the control you felt you lacked. So he slid a hand down the plane of your stomach and stopped just shy of dipping into your panties, waiting for your word. But you were no longer interested in playing games. Your hand found his and pulled him lower, using his fingers to press into the seem of your cunt, and he found you slick and warm with desire.

You urged him forward. "Rub my clit, baby. Slowly. Gently."

Slowly and gently. That he could do. His fingers crept absentmindedly closer to the swollen bundle of nerves and when he landed there, touch soft and circling, you jerked against him, your whole body moving with the force of anticipation and a cry leaving your lips. And though it seemed to burn, seemed to be torture for yourself, you demanded he do it again. Your forehead leaned against his, eyes shut tight, and Steve watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he flicked and circled again and again and again.

"Yes, baby. Perfect. So good. So. Fucking. Good."

Every bit of you was soft, from your neck where he placed his kisses to the curled hair hiding the swollen bud of your clit where his fingers played gently and rhythmically. Even the orgasm that gushed from your smooth cunt and stuttered from your lips was soft. You came with a choked cry as your hand pulled him closer by the back of his head, your tits pressed to his chest. Steve looked up to watch you devolve into pleasure, eyes squeezed tightly shut, your hair messy and swirling about your face, the straps of your bra slipping from your shoulder.

"Bed. Now. Right now," you demanded before you even had a chance to come down from your high. He would have been just as happy to have you in the kitchen, just like that, but Steve picked you up, with you latched to his chest like a koala, and carried you upstairs. You felt feather-light in his arms, easily tossed onto the mattress, your hands reaching out to pull his white t-shirt overhead and grab at the plane of his chest. Even as Steve kissed you again you couldn't stop tracing your fingertips over the lines of his torso, the ridges of his abs, the v-line that led tantalizingly toward the waistband of his pants. He felt his cock twitch and strain against the fabric of his boxers, the rough cotton not enough to stimulate him but enough to make him ache for your pussy. Your fluttering hands were not helping and Steve pictured your thin fingers wrapping around his length.

"Look at you," you said. "You're fucking perfect." It was Steve's turn to blush.

Steve wasn't...inexperienced. But it had been a while, to say the least, since he'd had the time or energy or capacity to even feel attracted to anyone. And even longer, perhaps never, since he felt the way he felt about you, like a bee to a flower, drunk on sweet nectar and high on honey. That was you, the delicate flower, so small and tender beneath him, yet as stunning and resonating and thunderous as the fireworks bursting somewhere overhead.

Fighting to survive was all Steve had known for so long, standing up to the bully and helping the fallen to their feet, that it was a relief to not have to be that man for you. You didn't require protection or help or anything from him at all, and yet you welcomed his presence endlessly. Steve realized he was not a need for you, but a want, and for the first time he felt valued for something real, something that wasn't just his brute strength, but something almost bordering on love. This he understood as he stared at your sweet face, caging you beneath him in bed.

"Earth to Steve," you said softly as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his pelvis down toward yours and dragging a deep groan from his lungs. He hadn't noticed he'd stopped kissing you and was getting lost in drinking you in amidst his reverie until your small hand pressed to the back of his neck and gently guided him back to your lips. But you stopped just shy, your eyebrows knitted in concern, taking his leisurely manner for uncertainty. "We can stop if you want."

"No, definitely not."

"Good. Then stop staring and kiss me."

"Where?" he teased.

"Everywhere, big man."

Everywhere was doable. So he started at your lips with one so big and breathless it rivaled Mount Everest. For a moment he let himself forget about everything except how long he could go without oxygen against your lips. But there remained more of you to taste.

Steve's lips connected with your chin and slid down your jawline, taking time to kiss the pulse of your neck and the dip of your clavicle. The fan of his breath tickled across your skin and you giggled, the purest sound of joy bubbling from your lips at his touch. More of that he wanted. So he continued down to the valley between your breasts, full and round despite your stature, removing your bra as he did so, nibbling lightly at the peaks of your chest before replacing his teeth with his pinching fingers and moving lower again. Lower toward the edge of your ribs, arched upward to meet the movement of his mouth, toward the slope of your hips, his sharp nose following each kiss as your underwear joined your bra into the abyss.

Your thighs he kissed, top to bottom, left and right, but it was your ass he couldn't get enough of, filling his grip with handfuls of your flesh, using it to pull you toward the edge of the bed where he kneeled, lifting your hips toward his face, your legs slung one over each shoulder. Steve sunk his tongue into your folds without warning and you gasped, your thighs suddenly squeezing tight around his head.

"Yes, right there," you hissed between ragged breaths.

He responded by burying deeper, gripping you harder, and moaning with delight at your overwhelming taste and scent bombarding his senses. You squirmed but didn't pull away as Steve's hands worked their way back up your stomach to cup the tissue of your breasts, the width of his palms capturing the flesh in one big handful. Your hands covered his, holding them there, forcing him to press you into the bed while his mouth left you twitching and bucking beneath his touch.

And in spite of the urgency with which Steve wished to devour you, he continued on leisurely, doing his best to build you up slowly and gently pick you apart bit by bit the way you had asked him to do it before. Your body betrayed its delight, evidenced enough by the way your legs hooked around him and held him down, but you praised him anyways, rapture falling from your lips between sporadic moans of pleasure.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so good, oh God yes, baby, you're doing so good, taste me like that," you cried, and the words spurred him onward, hurried his movements just slightly, his tongue circling your clit, fingers circling your areolas. He would do whatever you asked, jump off a cliff, take a bullet to the chest, drown himself in a river, if only to please you. But you would never ask anything of him that he couldn't give, and Steve knew the moment you asked for his heart it would be his heart you'd receive. And with that intent in his mind, he made you come undone with a silent cry.

Eventually, the trembling ceased, even as he continued to drink your release with the ministrations of his tongue.

"Oh fuck, you like the way I taste baby?" you asked. His affirmation came out muffled and sloppy between your legs. Even you were breathless, barely getting out the words, but you pushed him nonetheless. "I wanna hear you say it, Steve. You like eating me out? Like drinking my juices?"

"Fuck, yes, you taste like goddamn heaven, darling."

"Kiss me, Steve."

"Yes, ma'am."

He complied without a second thought, crawling back up your body to lean over you, giving you a taste of the heaven he had just dipped into. When your fingers found his belt, he helped you remove the rest of his clothes. And then your hands were roving down his chest again, searching blindly until they found what they were looking for. Steve groaned at your touch on his swollen cock.

You gasped. "Oh, God."

Before Steve could respond you pushed him over onto his back and straddled his thighs, eyeing the length on display before you, fingers around it as if testing the girth and finding them unable to wrap all the way around.

"Oh God," you repeated. A short laugh bubbled up from your throat, the controlling front you'd managed to maintain this whole time slipping from your tone.

"Something wrong?" he asked, feeling slightly inadequate under your scrutiny. Steve sat up to meet your eyes, hands finding their place on your hips.

You gazed at him, eyes wide and glassy. "You're gonna split me in half with that thing."

"We don't have to. Not if you aren't comfortable."

"Oh baby, I'm gonna get real comfortable sitting on your cock." Your sultry grin was back and you rose up on your knees to look down at him. Your other hand swiped between your legs, two fingers gathering the warm, wet juices of your orgasm, before joining the first around his cock. You pumped, rolling a drop of precum off the tip with your thumb and rubbing it down his length, mixing the release of your pleasure with his. Steve barely held back from bucking his hips into your hand. He would save that for your pussy.

"I want you to fill me," you whispered. "I wanna be so fucking full. Just go slowly, okay?"

"Slowly. I got you, baby girl. You can take me. Let me fill you."

Steve lifted your hips and guided you forward, aligning your entrance with his length. You moved at a crawling pace, letting gravity sink your pussy around him, pausing every inch to adjust to his intrusion. His biceps stung with the grip of your fingernails in his skin, but it was a welcome distraction from the rush of pleasure threatening to tip him over the edge prematurely. Agonizingly you dipped further, a cry falling from your lips, until you were fully seated, the tip of him pressed into the cavity behind your cervix. You were warm, so, so warm, and soft and tight and you fit perfectly, just like he knew you would.

"Fuck, Steve, you're so big."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, wiping away a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

"No, fuck, no, you feel so good. I just--I can't move."

"I got you, darling," Steve whispered, his face falling to your chest and burying it in the soft flesh of your tits. And then he wrapped his arms around your waist and did all the moving for you, lifting you up and sinking you down again, just fast enough to make you gasp for air and whine his name. With every thrust, you cried out in pleasure.

"Don't stop, Steve, please, baby, don't stop."

The fingers of one hand tugged at his hair dampened by sweat, nails scratching lightly across his scalp, as the other fell between your legs. You pressed your fingers around your clit and along your entrance, feeling where Steve's thick cock was pushing in and out of your tight pussy, feeling how big he was, how much he filled you. The meandering touch of your fingers almost sent him straight over the edge.

But it was the slick warmth of your cunt that was too much, and Steve found himself resting his forehead more and more heavily against your chest, willing himself to give you everything you wanted before he even thought about himself. The satin scent of your skin, like talcum and rose and his cologne, intoxicated him with every breath, and he sucked and nibbled on one breast and then the other, mindlessly attending to the most sensitive parts of you. A drop of sweat rolled down your sternum and Steve chased it with his tongue, licking a warm stripe up the center of your chest.

"Tell me what you need, darling."

"Fuck, that's perfect," you whined. "You fuck me so good, baby. Don't stop. Gonna make me come--make me come so hard."

Your fingers pressed against your clit once more and then you were clenching around him, your already tight pussy settling into a pulsing vice grip, your body shaking against his while he kissed the sweat from your collar bones. Steve felt you pumping the life out of him, riding out your orgasm and dragging him closer to his. The hand that had been on your clit moved to cup the weight of his balls, pinching and massaging as they pulled in heavy with the need for release.

"Where do you want me, darling, you gotta tell me."

You practically ordered him to come inside you, told him you wanted to feel him sticky between your thighs all night and it was suddenly Steve's turn to come undone, his hot seed pumping deep inside you, his twitching member finally finding release. He moaned your name against your lips, pulling you into a final searing kiss.

When, after a good twenty minutes of not moving from that position, of breathing heavy and kissing softly, you finally pulled away to lean down and lick his cock clean, the sticky mingling of you and him on your tongue, and he had to fight the urge to get hard again. And when you kissed him again, he tasted that mingling, two souls becoming one, as they were meant to be.

He slept next to you for the first time that night, your small frame encased in his, even though there was no need to share body heat in the dead of summer. But he actually slept, no dreams, no nightmares, no waking up in the middle of the night. Just deep, heavy sleep, your head tucked beneath his chin, back to his bare chest, his hands holding your breasts, and your hands holding his. Tangled together. Souls as one.

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #avengers smut #captain america smut #steve rogers smut #simping for steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction

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blue-writes-things · 3 years ago

Text

“Mudblood”

Sirius Black x Reader | Fluff / Angst

“For once you didn’t want to set the place on fire, you wanted to set yourself on fire”

| Masterlists | Words: 2225 Warnings: Shitty parents, Walburga and Orion’s A+ parenting, swearing, feminine pronouns A/N: I still don’t know what pov this is, and also world ‘law’ inconsistencies. Edited Blue Moon Archives

Feedback is always appreciated! - Blue

---------------------------------------------

You’re standing in a crowd of people talking shit about each other or blood purity, blah, blah, blah. Although you’d rather be listening to the other people at this ‘Pureblood only’ party that your mother dragged you to, then listen to her talk at you, ripping at everything about you because the ribbon you tied around the waist of your dress was red and gold.

You wanted to have something with you that didn’t make you want to set everything on fire, or maybe you could borrow some of those fireworks James and Remus made, or - you got snapped out of your thoughts of ‘justified arson’ by someone yelling “Sirius Orion Black!”

Oh shit- that was one of the biggest reasons you hated going to these things since Sirius had ‘family’ in this little clique, he was dragged to them. You always made a big effort to not let anyone at Hogwarts know you were related to these monsters.

Everyone but a few Slytherins knew you as a muggleborn, Including your friends, you knew you should tell them the truth, but something always stopped you.

So you spent these parties hiding from Sirius, seeing him in a room meant you went to another, or even just went to the bathroom for the whole event so there was no way he would see you. You wanted to tell him, so these things wouldn’t be as bad, so you’d have someone to talk to, but you thought that if he, or any of your friends found out, you’d be dropped as their friend and that was the worst thing that could happen to you.

As Sirius and his mother walked into the room, you went to the other room, but unlucky, Sirius saw the little bit of red in the sea of green, going after you, knowing that no one who went to these things would ever wear red. But he missed you by a second. A seconded that, to you, saved your friendship. You and Sirius ended up playing a game of hide and seek for the rest of the night before you finally got to leave.

The next morning when you walked into the common room to see James, Remus and Lily sitting on the floor watching Sirius pace in front of the fireplace talking faster than a snitch flies.

“Who broke Sirius?” you raise your eyebrows sitting next to Remus on the floor.

“He had to go to one of those pureblood parties and a girl was there” he sighs, you stiffen, knowing it was you

“It’s not about her being a girl! It was that she had a red ribbon!” he yelled, before dramatically falling to lay on the floor.

“What’s it matter that she was wearing a red ribbon?” Lily asked leaning on James, making him turn as red as the couch “No don’t make him talk again!” Remus half laughs, but was also being a bit serious (no pun intended)

“Because! If you were listening, no one at these parties wears red, it’s like poison to them, meaning this girl must have known that and chose to wear it, meaning she doesn’t think like them!”

“Sounds like your jumping to conclusions Pads,” James says, still red “No! Cause she also was basically running from me all night

“She sounds smart” You smirk “Either way, why does it matter?” “It means that there’s someone there who is also a Gryffindor, you guys wouldn’t understand…” He trails off, you wanted so badly to hug him and say, I know exactly what you’re saying

“Guys, I’m hungry, can we go to breakfast now?” Remus whines standing up, we all nod and agree getting up

“Last person there has to do Sirius’s homework!” you half yell making everyone run out of the room down to the great hall, once everyone gets there, Lily ends up coming last, meaning James will end up doing Sirius’s homework.

“How do you always get here first?” Remus says panting (pun 100% intended)

“Cause I remember all the shortcuts here” he grins

“I think that’s cheating and Sirius is disqualified meaning he has to do his own homework, all in favour?” Lily glaring but smiling at Sirius as everyone, but him raises their hand “You’re all sore losers!” everyone laughed sitting down and starting to eat.

About halfway through breakfast a bunch of owls come in, dropping everyone letters. You don’t pay too much attention to it, you rarely get letters, and when you do, it’s just your parents shouting insults at you. So when a letter drops in front of you it made you flinch. Noting it’s in a green envelope you shove it in your pocket. Sirius frowns but doesn’t say anything.

The group go about the day, having classes, watching James try to flirt with Lily, Sirius trying to flirt with you, the norm.

But after charms with Slytherin, you and the boys had planned a prank for Lucius Malfoy, he was bullying a first-year Hufflepuff, no one messes with Hufflepuffs and gets away with it.

Right as it was about to go into action, he got out of the way of the red dye about to fall on his plantation blonde hair. The group all groan, seeing Severus smirk as he leaves the classroom, you guess he told Malfoy about it but the looks of things.

“Watch it ‘mudblood’.” he smirks, putting ‘mudblood’ in quotations, he was one of the people who knew about you not being muggleborn, he said he wouldn’t tell anyone, but now he uses it as blackmail on you.

“Don’t call her that!” Sirius yells, going to pull out his wand, to hex him into next year.

“Y/N, I suggest you control your friend there, he does anything to me, I’ll tell your little group about your dearest mother and father. To be honest, I’m surprised you’ve kept your mouth shut about it for so long” he chuckles as he turns to leave, Sirius fuming about to go after him again

“Sirius. Just, leave it” you mumble

“Why! He can’t say that to you!”

“Cause we’d get detention and I have a…thing…I need to go to this weekend, and if I miss it, I’ll get bea- in big trouble….I’m going to the library I have homework to do, I’ll see you guys later” you rush off

“She’s not going to the library” Remus utters, both James and Sirius look at him funny “You can’t get to library from that way”

“I’ll catch up with you guys,” Sirius says going off after you

“Wanna go get lunch Moony?” James says after Sirius runs off

“Sounds good”

***

You reach the black lake, taking out the letter your parents sent you this morning, ripping it open and reading it. It was the normal ‘disgrace, worthless, traitor’ it hurts more than you expected, plus a reminder at the bottom that you’re going to another gathering this weekend.

You drop the letter next to you, hugging your knees to your chest, tears start falling. You sat like that for almost an hour before someone sat next to you

“Been lookin’ for you everywhere love” you look up and It’s Sirius “What’s wrong?”

He frowns looking down seeing the letter, and a green envelope, just like the ones his family sends him, he goes to grab it, but you snatch it away before he can

“What’s the letter say? It’s clearly upset you” he shuffles closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Not thinking clearly, you say the first excuse that comes to your mind

“Mum just told me that, my aunt died,” you say not looking at him

“Y//n, I know that’s not true”

“What do you mean it’s not true! I just read the bloody letter”

“Cause this is the fourth letter in a row telling you that an aunt has died, you’re not very good at lying”

“You’d be surprised” you mumble so Sirius doesn’t hear you

“Come on, you can tell me anything, you can tell me the truth”

“You don’t want to know the truth, Sirius!” You snap at him running up to the castle.

You spent the rest of the week avoiding your friends, well Sirius, but he’s always with them, so it meant avoiding them too.

It was Saturday night, and you were at the pureblood party, and completely miserable. You go over and stand next to your father

“Couldn’t help but bring that ‘Gryffindor’ pride with you?” your father says looking down at you. You’ve never felt so small “Take that stupid thing off”

“S-sorry father” you look down you taking off the red ribbon

“Disgrace” he mutters walking away

Not wanting to look as alone as you felt, you go outside though some fancy glass doors, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, for once you didn’t want to set the place on fire, you wanted to set yourself on fire, you felt cold, but not from the weather, from spending a week away from your friends, and re-reading all the letters your ‘family’ sent to you.

You didn’t notice, but Sirius had just walked in. He’s looking around for the red ribbon, hoping that ‘whoever’ she is, was here tonight, he sees the ribbon by the doors, smirking “fuckin’ finally” he thinks, once he’s outside he sees that it’s you.

“Y-Y/n?”

Your eyes go wide ‘well tonight can’t get worse’ you think, turning to him but not daring to look in his eyes

“How’d you get here? What are you doing here?”

“Same as you” You show Sirius the ‘invite’ to the party

“I-I don’t understand, you’re not muggleborn you’re pureblood? Why didn’t you tell me?” he frowns

“I didn’t want you to think of me as one of them” You look inside, you can practically hear them saying mudblood

You could see cogs turning his brain though his eyes as he was piecing it all together “All the letters were from them?”

You nod, pulling out a bunch of paper from your bag “Only letters I ever get” you choke handing them to Sirius He looks through them, anger boiling inside him

“They say I’m a traitor, pathetic, disappointment, disgrace, worthless, unloved, unneeded…I guess I am really” Sirius pulls you into a hug.

“You’re nothing like them, and you’re none of those things, I’m so glad I met you, I don’t know where I’d be without you… actually I do, I’d be in there bored outta my mind,” You hold him tighter burying your head in his neck

You hear Sirius’s mother calling him from inside, you pull away smirking at him, and spark in your eye, as if you weren’t about to burst out crying.

Sirius looks at you confused but smiling “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours”

“Well since we’re stuck here for a bit, why don’t we have some fun” you grin tying ribbon back around your waist

“I like the sound of that”

You grab Sirius’s hand and pull in inside to where a song is playing and people are dancing respectfully in pairs.

“Hey, Pads? May I have this dance?”

“Hey, isn’t that my line?”

You roll your eyes as you both go to where the dancing is. Sirius holds you by your waist pulling you close

You raise your eyebrow and Sirius winks at you “Do you know what personal space is?” smirking you wrap your arms around his neck, only making you both closer “Doesn’t seem like you mind” his voice drops an octave

“Who would mind being this close to Sirius Orion Black” Sirius looks down at your lips.

“The way my name sounds coming off your lips is making me want to kiss you,” he says sensually, smirking and pulling you closer (if that’s even possible) you bite your lip, flicking your eyes from his lips

“Sirius.Orion.Black”

He crashes his lips to yours, sending sparks through each other, it felt like it was always meant to be, but ruining the moment both your mothers are pulling you apart, saying things like blood traitors, despicable, etc, making you both laugh

“See you at school!” Sirius calls as his mother drags him out

“If we make it back!”

You both laugh, your mothers going off.

~ A few months later ~

You were taking a walk around the grounds finding Sirius sitting by the black lake holding a letter “Parents?” you say sitting by him, wrapping him in a hug as he nods

“Th-they disowned me…It’s like I don’t give a fuck, I hate them…but it still hurts”

You laugh a bit “You’re kidding right?” “Hm?” he tilts his head to the side as you pull a letter from your robes

“Got it yesterday” you hand letter to him He lets out a laugh “They disowned you too?!” “They couldn’t wait one day? So we can get disowned together?” you both laugh

“I love you, Sirius Orion”

“Now that sounds so much better coming from your lips” he has his cheeky grin on his face “Does it make you want to kiss me?” you smirk “It makes me want to kiss you forever” as he pulls you into a passionate kiss.

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omi-cafe-archived · 3 years ago

Text

𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙢𝙖𝙘𝙠 | 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮

pairing: miya atsumu x gn!reader, terushima yuji x gn!reader

summary: actions have consequences. and the consequences of smacking miya atsumu’s ass is something you’re wholly unprepared for.

wc: 3.8k

warnings: atsumu being annoying, yuji being annoying (these two warning tags are added affectionately), the words ass and smack being used a lot once again

tags: fluff, if you read part 1 you would know the next tag is crack

a/n: this took so long to write omg

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college isn't that hard. yeah, there are assignments, exams, shitty group mates who don't contribute to projects, and unreasonable deadlines.

but those are expected.

however, what you didn't expect was a disruption to your college life known as miya atsumu.

"hello, person who smacked my ass outta nowhere!" atsumu greets you on a monday morning as you were rushing to get to class. you had barely acknowledged him in your half-asleep state, not quite hearing what he said but still waving to him.

it wasn't until you reached your class and sugawara koushi asked you if you knew miya atsumu did you then realise that he had greeted you that loudly at eight in the morning.

you spend the rest of the day brooding in class and complaining to yuji who leaves you on read.

unfortunately for you, you see the same dreadful shade of blonde hair on your way to the convenience store to get a bag of chips the next day.

"oh hey! it's the person who smacked my ass!" atsumu says with a grin. you've learned your lesson from the previous encounter and this time around you choose to ignore him as you walk away, pretending you didn't recognise him.

your plan fails spectacularly as atsumu calls out your name and shouts, "hey! you still owe me for smacking my ass!"

you feel like keeling over and passing away when you notice that his other cool and popular friends had been with him and were now laughing at your demise alongside him.

as you shuffle back to the dorms like a miserable sack of potatoes you can't help but wonder how strange it is that you've never met miya atsumu for the past two years, and now that you've smacked his ass once, you're suddenly seeing him everywhere.

that train of thought continues to linger on your mind as you continue to bump into atsumu on an almost daily basis.

"hello, ass-smacker."

you let out a tired groan as you lift your head from the table, unsurprised to find atsumu smirking at you as he takes a seat next to you.

"this is the library," you reply dryly, "and since when did you ever visit the library?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

you huff a short laugh as atsumu pulls a face, "what do you mean? i visit the library all the time!" he exclaims nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

obviously, he didn't.

as soon as he speaks, a chorus of 'shhh's are sounding out and dirty looks are thrown in your direction.

you almost forget that you're supposed to be annoyed by his presence as you watch him duck his head down in embarrassment, muttering a quiet apology. but lucky for you, atsumu is quick to remind you of all the reasons why you shouldn't be smiling and finding him endearing.

"you still owe me," atsumu whispers. there's a mischievous glint to his eyes as he watches you drop your head onto the table with a loud thud.

"i bought you a sandwich and an isotonic drink..." you mumble half-heartedly. you already know what he's going to say next.

"that doesn't count." you say in answer to yourself, hearing atsumu say the exact same words you do.

"that doesn't co-" he stops abruptly and laughs, muffling his laughter by holding his hand over his mouth. you blink at him unamused as he wheezes, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

it wasn't even that funny, you think.

the blonde momentarily quietens and you feel dread start to creep into your chest as atsumu leans forward, eyes hooded as he asks you, "do you really want me to stop bothering you?"

your heart begins to pound as your gaze flicks from his honeyed gaze to his lips. swallowing nervously, you nod your head in response, not trusting your voice. surely he wasn't going to let you off the hook just like that, right?

"alright, then I'll see you on saturday," he whispers coyly, shooting you a wink.

"wha- why?" the wink was wholly unexpected and you can feel your cheeks start to flame as you speak. you try to calm your rapid heartbeat by taking a few deep breaths but it's useless as atsumu continues to talk to you, his voice soft and low, almost directly in your ear.

"you'll find out on saturday," he chuckles as he hands his phone to you. "give me your number, I'll text you the details."

when you stare back at him dumbfoundedly, not taking his phone from him, atsumu resorts to grabbing your hand, holding it out to place his phone on your palm.

"number," he repeats before clearing his throat.

you blink a few more times, burning the image of the current atsumu into your brain. his cheeks are red and his smile is wobbly as he continues to fake nonchalance. his hand, however, it's still as warm as ever, holding up your hand from the back of your palm.

god, you were so weak for warm-bodied people.

you’re launching yourself out of bed on saturday when atsumu texts you at ten in the morning, stating that he wants to meet you at the train station in an hour.

curses are muttered as you fling your wardrobe open, grabbing whatever caught your eye first. you had waited for atsumu's text for two whole days, and last night you had resigned yourself to the conclusion that he had been messing with you, and had no intention of meeting you by himself on a saturday at all.

yet, the blonde still manages to surprise you by threatening to report you to the police if you didn't arrive on time.

you hear your phone ping as you rush to grab your towel and you grab it, bringing it with you into the bathroom in a hurry.

"don’t show up in all black, you’re not going to a funeral," you read out his text.

you glance at the black shirt and jeans you had grabbed randomly and groaned, flinging the articles of clothing onto the floor as you blushed.

your saturday was definitely off to a bad start.

when you finally arrive at the train station, you're panting and out of breath as you bend over with your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath.

you haven't seen atsumu around and you're beginning to worry if he had ditched you for being a little late.

as you search the crowd aimlessly, you don't hear atsumu sneak up behind you until he taps your shoulder, sidestepping away so you're forced to do a full turn to face him.

you can see it in his grin that he's just trying to get a rise out of you but all thoughts vanish as you try to take in what atsumu looks like when he's all dressed up.

"ya look nice," atsumu says to you, pink slightly dusting his cheeks as his eyes wander. "no wonder you were late by half an hour."

"i was late by ten minutes," you answer, "and thanks, you look nice too." you know that you're blushing without even having to look in the mirror, your face feels hot and your shirt collar feels uncomfortably warm against your neck. it's almost suffocating how it seems like you and atsumu were the only ones trapped in a bubble, separated from the rest of the world in this crowded train station.

"of course i look nice," atsumu states as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "besides, i reached twenty minutes earlier so you are late by half an hour."

the blonde's logic confuses you so much that you only stare at him in puzzled silence.

but as always, you get caught in the intricate web that is miya atsumu, and you don't even notice that you're smiling at him as he leads the way to an unknown location.

the train is filled to the brim with people, you realise albeit awkwardly.

your back is pressed up against the door as atsumu cages you in with his arms on either side of your head.

you do your best ignoring the weird tension between the both of you, choosing to hyper-focus on the necklace that dangled from his neck. yet, it proves to be hard to think of anything else but how close atsumu is as he is pushed nearer to you every time more people board the train.

as the train doors open again, more people are squeezed on and you feel a little bad for atsumu who has been very adamant about making sure you had at least a bubble of personal space in the midst of the crowded train.

with the decreased distance between the two of you, you note a lemony scent coming from him and a small smile spreads across your lips as you realised how the scent was a perfect fit for him. and unlike another annoying blonde you knew, atsumu’s scent was gentle and aromatic. as you rack your brain for the name of the familiar lemony scent, you fail to realise you've unconsciously been sniffing at the air.

“sorry.”

your head snaps up upon hearing the sudden apology from atsumu.

his adam apple’s bops as he swallows nervous sly, avoiding your gaze. “bear with the… smell, for a bit, we’ll get off soon,” he mumbles as his face reddens.

"smell?" you question, not quite understanding what the blonde is referring to. atsumu then gestures towards himself and you blush.

oh, he noticed that.

you bring your hands up to cover your face, "you don't smell bad," you grit out, not caring that your voice is muffled. it was mortifying that atsumu had caught you sniffing at his clothes and assumed that it was because he smelled bad. “it’s the opposite, you smell nice” you explain, peeking through the gaps of your fingers to look at his reaction.

“oh,” atsumu sounds out. his cheeks are dusted pink but you notice how he almost looks pleased with himself for smelling nice.

before you can let slip a snarky comment about how he shouldn't let it get to his head, the train jerks and atsumu is thrown off balance. your hands move before a coherent thought is made and you're wrapping your arms around atsumu's waist, holding him steady as he fumbles against the glass surface of the train's door to keep himself still.

with how much closer atsumu was, you could almost hear his heartbeat against your ear. you hadn't expected to hear his heart pounding so quickly that it mildly concerned you if this was normal for a guy his age.

"are you alright?" you ask, tilting your head upwards so you could see his face. with your hands still around his waist, your mind immediately falls into the gutter and you’re reminded of how a slip of your hand could lead to another incident with atsumu’s ass and your hand. the thought of it makes you loosen your hold on his waist with heated cheeks, quickly retracting your hands.

fortunately, atsumu had found his balance again, except this time, he was leaning most of his weight against the door behind you.

"yeah, 'm fine, you?" you duck your head down just as atsumu lowers his gaze onto you, genuine concern etched across his features. you manage to squeak out a response, rather incoherent, but the blonde understood nonetheless.

perspiration coats the back of your neck despite the train blowing cool air at full blast. he's like a heater, you think, glancing at atsumu's face. his brows are knitted together tightly as he endures the constant pushing against his back. there's only a sliver of space between him and you but you're grateful that it isn't unpleasant. not at all.

as the train doors open once more, and atsumu lurches forward from a hard push, you suddenly remember the word that you had been searching for earlier. huffing out a short laugh you find that the smell of verbena really does suit atsumu quite well.

you weren't surprised to find out that atsumu had called you out on a saturday to accompany him as he shopped, acting as his servant for the day.

multiple shopping bags hung from your arms as you followed the blonde from shop to shop, bored out of your mind and legs aching.

“need any help with that?”

you shake your head stubbornly, jerking your arms out of the way before atsumu can swipe a bag from your hand.

“if i let you help me you’re probably going to say i still owe you one,” you state in a deadpan manner.

“of course!” atsumu laughs while sweeping his bangs back with his hand in a swift motion. “can’t have ya going around smacking my ass for free after all,” he smirks.

you’re appalled as atsumu makes a show off tapping his ass and you almost, almost fling his shopping bags at his head.

“young people these days are so free-spirited.” you snap your head towards an elderly couple, arms linked together as they giggled at you and atsumu.

your gaze switches from the pair to atsumu and back again when you realise atsumu isn’t going to say anything back.

yet, before you can play off the comment with a polite and brief answer, the dreaded few words fall from their lips.

“you both make such a cute couple!”

your eyes are bugging out of their sockets as turn your head towards atsumu at the same time he does, meeting his eyes with wide eyes that conveyed bewilderment. but to your surprise, you find that he's smiling at you, shy— tentative. and there’s an unknown emotion swimming in the depths of his hazel eyes as he gazes at you sincerely.

it's off-putting. the way he looks at you as if he had been happy to hear that the both of you made a cute couple.

your breath hitches in your throat as your heart hammers wildly in your chest. maintaining eye contact with atsumu is an electrifying experience, you find out. it's incredibly captivating and you feel yourself being drawn with every breath of his.

a shiver runs down your spine as you finally tear your gaze away, mind reeling from the shoujo-esque moment you had just experienced with atsumu.

"thanks, but we're not like that," you explain to the couple, smiling awkwardly. through your peripheral vision, you see atsumu fidget but with the way your heart can't seem to calm down, you decide it's better if you didn't see his face for a while.

lucky for you, salvation comes in the form of terushima yuji strutting past the shop's window, whistling a tune and unaware of your presence.

you don't care that the elderly couple is spluttering awkward responses as you drop the shopping bags at atsumu's feet, muttering a quiet 'be right back' before you rush outside and yell for yuji.

his longer legs had taken him quite a fair distance away and yuji spins around swiftly upon hearing the familiar boom of a voice, calling for him. it's funny to watch his face go through a multitude of expressions as you start running towards him with no prior warning.

but a quick glance behind you is more than enough to push him into action as he opens his arms wide and catches you as you throw yourself at him.

a giant question mark surfaces in your mind's eye as yuji holds you tightly and spins you around.

you had intended to tackle him into the ground and expected a much more violent outcome for your sudden meeting. yet, reality is so much more confusing... and sweet?

what is wrong with the blondes today?

as your feet touch the ground again, you're left gaping in shock as you stare at yuji as if he had grown two heads. there was no way he would've greeted you so warmly with the way you were charging at him like a bull set on a mission to kill.

"why the fuck did you do that?" you blurt out as you smack yuji on the shoulder out of habit.

"ouch, that hurts y'know," the blonde replied with a pout, rubbing the spot that you had just hit.

you watch as his gaze wanders away from you to some point behind you. is it atsumu? you wonder. after all, it would make more sense than the elderly couple you had just run from.

a quick peek over your shoulder let you know that it was indeed atsumu, who yuji was staring so intently at. you roll your eyes when you realise that neither blonde was going to give up on the mini staring contest they had going on.

"hey, what are you doing here?" you ask yuji, snapping your fingers in his face to distract him.

your snapping successfully brings your friend's attention back to you as he answers you sarcastically.

"to study obviously," he tells you, mirroring you by rolling his eyes.

your deadpan stare gets him to admit the truth instantly.

"of course i'm here to shop," he sighed. his face suddenly brightens as he leans in to whisper in your ear.

"now, why are you here with the guy with the nice ass, hm?" he questions, eyebrow raised as he looks at you as if he had just witnessed a scandal.

your face heats up as the incidents from earlier flash through your mind. memories of the intense train ride and the heart-fluttering moment from earlier plague your mind as you search for an answer to yuji's question

"i-i'm just here to help him out as an apology for smacking his ass," you stutter. regret fills your soul as yuji's eyebrows are raised higher, clicking his tongue reproachfully.

"even though he's hellbent on making things difficult for me," you grumble under your breath. your complaints are ignored as yuji places his hands on your shoulders and leans down to utter something crazy.

"can you smack my ass?"

you perk up at the mention of smacking but judging by the look across your friend's face, you can tell it is only a spell for more trouble than the short-lived satisfaction that smacking him will bring.

"no thanks, it's childish," you respond, crossing your arms.

in the same childish manner, yuji sticks his tongue out at you.

"you're no fun," he groans. "and dense too," he adds on after a second.

the jab at your personality stings harder than expected. "i'm not dense!" you protest, frowning.

as a devilish smirk spreads across yuji's lips, his gaze switches back to atsumu, and you heave a heavy sigh as you watch him wink playfully at the other blonde.

before you can diss yuji for acting like a greasy pervert, he turns back to you and squishes your face between his palms.

you thank atsumu for sharpening your reflexes throughout the day because as yuji starts leaning in for a kiss, eyes hooded, you react much instantaneously.

"do you wanna die?" you seethe at him, wiping either cheek with your sleeves. your lip curls into a semblance of a snarl, it doesn't matter that you're in public, in a busy mall with throngs of people about.

you had one goal in mind and it was to smack terushima yuji's ass so hard, he'd regret ever attempting to kiss you.

"smack your ass? sure, i'll do it so hard you can't sit down." you glare at yuji as he starts backing away from you, his hands thrown up in surrender.

"please don't," he whines but you ignore him as you stalk towards him, aiming for his ass.

a crisp resounding smack echoes in the air as your palm connects with his ass and you're mildly disappointed at the lack of satisfaction that you feel.

unlike with a certain someone's ass, tingles didn't shoot up your arm and your palm didn't feel stingingly numb from the impact. if you could grade this ass-smack, you'd probably only give it a four out of ten.

you don't notice that yuji had fallen to his knees, hand gingerly touching his ass while he tries to stand. there are tears in his eyes as he looks at you but you're too preoccupied with clenching and unclenching your hand to notice it.

you hear yuji mutter something vaguely like a diss about your violent characteristics but before you can smack him again, he's pointing behind you and saying, "look behind you."

you whirl around, half-expecting a crowd of nosy people but you feel your heart sink to the pits of your stomach as your gaze lands on atsumu.

his bottom lip is tight between his teeth as he gazes back at you with a sorrowful look.

you feel burning regret plague your heart as atsumu turns away first and you feel like a complete asshole who had just kicked a puppy. your heart is pounding as your mind spins a mile a minute, thinking of why atsumu is looking like a dejected puppy and what are you going to do about it.

but just as you take a step forward, ready to go after him, yuji yanks you back by the arm.

"let go." you try to pull your arm out of his grasp but yuji was still much too stubborn and too strong.

"why are you going after him?" he asks. cocking his head to the side, yuji smirks as he watches you become more flustered with each passing second.

"he looks upset..." you answer hesitantly. your voice lacks its usual steadiness and you wonder if it would be alright to deliver a good punch to yuji's face.

he looks like a pervert, you think. wait, he is a pervert, your mind corrects you as you take in the creepily eager expression yuji has as he looks between you and atsumu.

you cringe and pull back harder, freeing your arm from yuji's grasp. ignoring yuji's calls for you, you jog after atsumu.

his hair acts like a beacon, making it easier for you to follow him through the crowd of people. yet, your legs are much shorter than his and you break into a run instead.

it's eerily in time how atsumu turns around to face you as if he knew you were right behind him.

your smile is tentative as you slow down and approach him, reaching for the shopping bags.

"hey, sorry about that, i can carry those now," you tell him.

your chest feels tight and you can't help but feel something is wrong when atsumu doesn't budge, choosing to only stare hollowly at you.

your fingers retract as you realise he isn't going to hand the shopping bags over to you. it's suffocating being under scrutiny. you've always known him to be a warm person but the atsumu you see, standing before you, is as cold as ice.

"you didn't have to come after me," he finally says.

his voice is so quiet that you barely catch it.

"but you still owe me."

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feliix · 4 years ago

Text

Crush Culture ✦ KTH (18+)

✦ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

✦ Rating: M ✦ Word Count: 14k (screams)

✦ Genre: fluff, angst, smut, fake dating!au

✦ Summary: Once summer hits and you return to work at the local ice cream shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of relationships and love, but it’s Taehyung’s mission to make you reconsider by the end of the summer.

✦ Warnings: childhood friends 2 lovers, idiots 2 lovers unprotected sex, fingering, pining, soft sex, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships, Tae is kinda a player but he turns out alright

✦ A/N: a big big thank you to the lovely @hobiance for helping me plan yet another fic and @jinned for giving me the much needed support and hyping me up until I finished my first long boi ilysm ♡ also thank you to my lovely beta @jinterlude who I would be completely illiterate without! the most beautiful banner you’ve ever seen is made by none other than my baby @koophoriia ily bunbunbun

Written for the BHQ Bangtan Boardwalk Collaboration

Taglist: @krystle1990 @imluckybitches

“Gross”

Another couple. Probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this evening alone. The shop is packed full of them on warm nights like this.

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t far from the truth. Relationships suck. Been there, done that.

You always keep the same theory; relationships either end in heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage can still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being dramatic,” Taehyung laughs after catching your snide remark from around the corner. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy, to say the least. The sun is setting, and it’s the perfect time for families and couples alike to come in and get a cold and tasty treat, especially on a day as hot as this one. It’s over 100º, and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Taehyung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath.

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss is kind of an asshole, leaving 2 ‘kids’ in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. Probably at the bar across the street, since his car is still parked in the back, but he’s nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than having him loom over your shoulder and critique your scooping texture the whole shift.

“Whatever you say,” Taehyung shakes his head.

Unlike yourself, Taehyung is a hopeless romantic, always looking for love in the wrong places. It always seems that his relationships never work out though, which has always confused you – Taehyung is a great guy.

So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left.

“Just under an hour, we should start the closing checklist so we can get outta here,” Tae responds as he reaches for the rag and sanitation bucket.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave at 8 o’clock on the dot. You’ll be damned if a customer comes in at 7:58, but there's always one Karen that comes as you’re about to lock the doors. You hate those Karens.

Lucky for you, closing tonight went as smoothly as it can go. You and Taehyung are ready to go at 8 on the dot, clocking out and locking up behind you.

“So what are we doing tonight?” Taehyung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was gonna go home and sleep…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. You know his eyes are much too convincing to look into, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Booooo you’re boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, turning around to meet his suggestive smirk. He knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to argue back with him. So you tilt your head, waiting for him to explain what he has in mind.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

And with that, you’re starting the ignition to your car and racing home, carefully, of course.

Taehyung is always spontaneous like this.

After making it home and rushing to get ready, Taehyung was there to pick you up, a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course. When you end up at your favorite boba spot, you know Taehyung wants to talk about something. He never wants to sit down at a place like this just for small talk, you’ve picked up on his signs and can read him like a book.

But when you finally get your drink and sit at your favorite table in the back corner, he doesn’t say much. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up. His eyes staring down at his drink instead of sipping it, hands rested in his lap with his lip caught between his teeth. It’s puzzling, slightly, you thought he wanted to hang out tonight and do something adventurous…

The awkward silence and lack of gestures from Taehyung is starting to make you uncomfortable, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“How are things going with that girl,” you ask before bringing the straw of your tea to your lips, sipping nonchalantly.

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “it didn’t really work out.”

When it comes to Taehyung, relationships never really seem to work out. To say it lightly, he is extremely picky. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that bit her nails.

Eventually, his pickiness has become a trend to the point that Taehyung will entertain a girl for a month or so. Then, he'll find something so minuscule within the said girl and turn it into a dealbreaker. The nit-picking things are way too much to move past for Taehyung. It’s clear that he is in search of the ‘perfect woman,’ like that even exists.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, is it really worth it to put all your effort into something like that? There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He’s taken back by your statement, his eyebrows furrowing in response as he waits for your answer.

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway?”

His question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Taehyung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and answer his question.

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your boba once again.

“Not all guys are dead-beats, you know.”

His words come out harsh, almost as if he finds your words offensive. Like you are meaning to group him in with all the guys you’ve dated in the past. Which is strange, Taehyung knows that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You can’t talk to guys, or most people like you talk to Taehyung. He’s the one you rant about the dead-beats to, along with everything else under the sun. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence Taehyung’s expression changes, his eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you see often, and you couldn’t say that you would ever be used to it.

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Taehyung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words leave his lips, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle leaves his lips. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’re crazy,” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do?”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Taehyung. And Taehyung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your tea from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“So you’re like dating dating?” Lainey’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on her face as you spill about your night with Taehyung.

Lainey is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Taehyung of course. Not that she shares the hatred herself, she just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know how you felt.

Along with Taehyung, Lainey is your best friend. And she’s the only person in this world that you can bear to work a double with on a Saturday.

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the scoops behind you. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday afternoon, not many customers have come in since you opened up at 11.

That’s the thing about working at an ice cream shop – it sucks when it's slow, and it sucks when it's busy. Though it isn't a miserable job, you at least have Tae and Lainey to keep you company.

The smirk on Lainey’s face hasn’t disappeared since you told her about Taehyung’s deal. She’s shocked that you actually agreed to something like this, especially since it’s with Taehyung. The same Taehyung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled like peaches.’ It’s only a matter of time until Taehyung finds your own deal-breaking trait.

“For the record,” you turn to look at Lainey, a grin still evident on her face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind.”

“Y/N,” Lainey whines as she draws out the last syllable of your name, plopping herself down in a chair to pout. “Stop being so…so…”

“So?”

Her face crinkles as she racks her brain for the word, rubbing her temples in hopes that it will come to her. Your eyebrow crooks in response, a slight chuckle leaving your lips as you wait.

“Pessimistic!” Lainey’s face lights up as it finally comes to her. She does have a point. It’s been a while since you actually let anyone in

“You know Taehyung, you never know, maybe something could happen,” her eyebrows lift at the end of her sentence, too suggestively for your own comfort.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. I know Taehyung, he’ll be over it in 2 weeks.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of her voice is raised teasingly. She doesn’t believe this will be a two-week thing.

Lainey has been friends with you and Taehyung for 4 summers now. Once she started working at the ice cream shop with you two it was an automatic connection. Letting her into your little clique with no hesitation, you quickly became 3 peas in a pod.

But Lainey sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You had grown up with Taehyung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Lainey, on the other hand, has a different point of view.

She sees the way Taehyung looks at you and how he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth. How he longs to make you laugh, watching you with a growing grin each time a chuckle passes through your lips. She notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is she to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in her mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the glass cover of the freezer beneath you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Taehyung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this.

“He’s picking me up after work”

“Oooh he’s picking you up?”

“Shut up,” your eyes roll at her teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy it’s making you. It’s just Taehyung, and you are just hanging out like you do every other night.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Lainey. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Taehyung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Taehyung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8pm. What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Taehyung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Taehyung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Taehyung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a manageable sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his own to light up and beam across the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the coffee ice cream stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth.

He dressed a lot nicer than usual attire; a dress shirt with a loose pair of slacks dressing his slim figure. His hair is light too, much different than the dark brown curls that frame his face. He’s really going all out for this – and you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and an ice cream stained t-shirt.

Lainey is just as stunned as you are, frozen in her spot with her jaw practically on the floor. She looks at you with wide eyes, her eyebrows raising as a smug expression crosses her face. You look in her direction, about to ask if she’s alright to finish closing on her own, but before you’re able to say anything she’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, he hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...

“As do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

An interesting yet on-brand response from Taehyung. He’s a big fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination seems long. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between the agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time All you know is that you’ve been driving through backroads for at least 15 minutes, and the destination doesn’t seem anywhere near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing such a great job illuminating things. Your eyebrow crooks unintentionally – this was it?

Your eyes wander outward as Taehyung parks the car, unable to see anything further than a 10-foot radius.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Taehyung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Taehyung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?

The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Taehyung. At least one of you is amused.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Taehyung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Taehyung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Taehyung is doing behind you…

You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center

“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

Woah woah woah. It’s just Taehyung. Taehyung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Tae and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Taehyung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Taehyung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.

The bundle of sunflowers Taehyung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the ice cream shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.

“Sooooo,” Lainey teases, her chin falling into her palm as she leans on the freezer before her, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Taehyung chuckles at her nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told her all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Taehyung felt like the odd man out around you both.

“It was good.”

Taehyung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to her imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell or to not kiss and tell either. Things are better that way.

“Just good?” Lainey challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. Her eyes narrow as she waits for his response. You haven’t told her anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end.

Taehyung glances back at her, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans.It would be nice to have someone else to confide in since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this is the one secret that you can't know.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Lainey. Not that Taehyung is looking to pry, he just has no indication to how you feel about last night, or about him.

Before Taehyung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Lainey’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – she knows something.

“You like her,” she muses, tossing her hair over her shoulder as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now, and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but clear as day to Lainey – and that is more than enough to make Taehyung worry.

“I don’t,” He denies her claim, his willpower too strong to give into her.

“Oh yeah? Why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

Her words catch Taehyung off guard, his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny her claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Lainey is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Taehyung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know?”

Was he really that obvious? Did it show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Taehyung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Lainey is just joking around. That she doesn’t actually know the one thing he’s been holding onto for so long.

She doesn’t have to respond for him to know the answer. The quirk of her eyebrow and knowing expression on her face says enough.

“Well you can’t tell her,” he sighs, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered floors. Lainey turns to look at him staring down in distress, a sympathetic glance directed at him. He’s worried you’ll find out.

You can’t find out. If you do, then all bets will be off. Once you know Taehyung’s feelings for you there is no way that you’ll let your little arrangement continue. He knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, or at least as far as you know.

Lainey bears her weight on the cooler behind her, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “I want her to be done with this ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” her fingers mock air quotes as she continues, “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Taehyung’s heart skips a beat as the words leave her mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers what she just said. He’s confused as to what she means. You agreed to fake-date him, but you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Lainey watching him as his lips roll between his teeth as he’s deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in his mind like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, for the right reasons; so that you won’t be so miserable. But behind those selfless reasons come with smaller selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too.

“Like you think…” he gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Lainey gives is ominous, but the raise of her eyebrows and toothy grin forming on her face needs no words to tell. If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Taehyung.

That night Taehyung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you can recall it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Taehyung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped 2 cones on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave them there without cleaning anything up. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Taehyung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Taehyung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got.

It’s been 12 days since you became Taehyung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night two when ice cream cones landed on the shop floor face down, sprinkles and all. Spending time with Taehyung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Taehyung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Taehyung experiences.

Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.

You like Taehyung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.

When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like

You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Taehyung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Taehyung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N” Lainey says waving a hand in your face. You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Tae?”

“What,” she catches you off guard, straightening your posture and brushing yourself off before responding to her, “no…just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from her lips, turning away from you as she wipes off a table in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Lainey out of the loop during this whole fake-boyfriend Taehyung thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Lainey the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. What if you are just in the honeymoon-phase? If these feelings for Taehyung are only because he’s trying his best to woo you, and then they’ll just fade away as things return back to normal.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Lainey for her to know. Every time Tae picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide she’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Lainey’s eyes. She knows you too well to look over things like this, she just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Lainey has decided to take matters into her own hands, asking you about it herself.

“Lainey,” you start, waiting for her attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for her to follow suit. She does, a questioning but knowing look evident on her face as she joins you. “You know how this thing between Taehyung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

She nods in response, her hand quickly falling into her palm as she listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

Her question is more for clarification, she wants to hear you say it herself. She knows that you’re gonna tell her you caught feelings. She sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the ice cream cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at her. You can feel the grin on her face. You know she's smirking at you right now, doing her best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you got over your ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” she sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face her.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Lainey hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on her face can't grow any larger, but it does. She jumps up from her chair in victory, doing a funny dance with her arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Lainey smiles, her happy dance subsiding as she sits back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.”

Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring outlining each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the girl sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Lainey’s your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Taehyung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be.

Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face, falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles.

A sympathetic sigh leaves Lainey’s lips as she tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face her – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank God it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Taehyung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something.

It’s not until Lainey is rising from her seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Taehyung,” she starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-What’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Lainey is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. She doesn’t want to speak for you; but she’s scared of saying something that can make this situation worse.

Her mouth gapes as she searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing and she hums to find the right words. They don’t come.

The umbrella hanging from Taehyung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Lainey as she jumps at the sudden sound. But before she is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Taehyung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Taehyung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Lainey. She’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an ice cream shop.

After Taehyung left she came back and let you know; she almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let her in. She told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Taehyung; to think about him.

Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.

When you agreed to be Taehyung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Taehyung. He’s your personal diary, the one who knows all the shit that nobody else knows and listens to all the shit that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Taehyung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Taehyung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Taehyung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Taehyung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Taehyung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.

The door cracks open, Lainey standing there with an umbrella in her hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

She pushes past you and to your living room, plopping down on your couch and making herself comfortable as she waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to her, plopping down beside her.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as she hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Taehyung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves her lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was she giving it to you, why was she here, and why did she have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” She says sternly, her eyes locked on you as she waits for you to look back at her. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Taehyung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Taehyung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves her mouth gently, a sigh following it before she reached for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Lainey,” you let out an annoyed sigh, “you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to him. If you could, you would, but you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” she sighs, this time more forceful, she’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.”

Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” she mumbles, her eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped.

Eyes wide with confusion, they’re begging her to go on, but if she does then Taehyung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. You can’t know what she knows.

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” she stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Lainey is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Taehyung’s blue umbrella.

It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.

No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces.

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Taehyung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Taehyung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind.

Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.

You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Taehyung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times.

“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand.

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Taehyung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way.

It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story.

Taehyung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Taehyung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never pries.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him.

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen.

You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.

That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely.

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate.

“Taehyung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say.

Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.

“Me too.”

You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape.

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Taehyung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop.

You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price.

“Y/N, I have feelings for you.”

Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Taehyung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.

Taehyung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration.

Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Taehyung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Taehyung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten.

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this.

Slowly, Taehyung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh.

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts.

In a leisurely motion, Taehyung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.

“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Taehyung to care.

Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.

But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his.

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Taehyung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body. Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.

“Like what you see?” Taehyung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him.

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologize,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen each other naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Taehyung this way before.

But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.

Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.”

His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Taehyung.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?”

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Taehyung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Taehyung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Luckily, Taehyung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down.

But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.

Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.

With your body finally relaxing, Taehyung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more.

He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks.

In one swift motion, Taehyung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction.

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else.

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Taehyung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

Taehyung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it.

But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.

And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips.

And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched.

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.

Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.

Taehyung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out.

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Taehyung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Taehyung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Taehyung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge.

Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.

Taehyung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full.

You’ve always felt close to Taehyung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Taehyung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still confident. His tone doesn’t falter.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Taehyung.”

Crush culture once made you want to spill your guts. Every guy sucked, relationships were stupid and love was a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Taehyung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right in front of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

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