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#and when he's drunk she's one of the only ones who will let him hang off her & cry in her ears
sixhours · 1 day
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Remnants
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Everything that’s left of her broken dreams is standing at the counter, returning her smile.
Rated: PG Length: 1k
Notes: Post-episode for Per Manum
Originally posted on AO3 1/6/2016
~*~
The apartment is shrouded in gray when she returns, the last of her hopes printed on an appointment summary in her coat pocket. Upon seeing her face, he wishes he’d thought to turn on a light, so she wouldn’t have to come home to more darkness, his slumbering form on the couch not enough to fill this newfound emptiness.
“It didn’t take, did it?”
Disappointment shines in her eyes. Forehead to forehead, he waits until her breathing is calm to offer something more substantial than a promise, but the warmth of her skin under his fingers disarms him, gives him pause.
His hands cradle her face as their lips touch for only the second time, her arms wind around his neck like an anchor, pulling him down into her sorrowful sea.
~*~
Dr. Parenti’s delivery was kind, but she felt the news like a gunshot. It’s worse than Emily, this intangible loss. Failure hasn’t washed away the image of a young girl with auburn hair and almond eyes, or a boy with a shy, quirked smile.
She loves them, the ghosts of her unborn children and all they represented: The intimacy of family life, ringing laughter and a mantle lined with photographs.
A child’s cry cutting through the night, hushed lullabies and the love-drunk smell of a downy newborn head.
Saturday morning cartoons followed by pancakes and bacon, spilled milk and syrup-sticky fingers.
The stillness of reality plays a harsh contrast to her imagination as she listens to the silence of what could have been.
~*~
He wants to punch a hole through her pristine apartment wall. He wants to hunt down the faceless men who did this to her and kill them with his bare hands, until he’s bloody and sore and near death himself. He wants to run, to put miles and years between them, until his bad luck can’t touch her any more.
Sometimes he wishes he’d never followed when she tried to resign from the Bureau, that he wasn’t so chickenshit as to ask her to stay after paying the price for her loyalty several times over.
He’d signed away his rights, but the thing that makes his face burn and his stomach clench with shame, is that he’d wanted this for himself as much as her. Selfish bastard, he thinks. Still a chickenshit.
So he steels himself, grits his teeth and holds her until she pulls away. He takes her hand, leads her to the couch, offers to make tea.
He’ll stay, because he doesn’t have the courage to let her go.
He’ll stay, because he doesn't have the right to mourn what was never his to lose.
~*~
Mulder is opening cupboards, running water. Sleeves rolled to the elbows, he washes the dishes and waits for the kettle, then swipes at his forehead, leaving a trail of suds across one cheek. The sight brings an unexpected smile to her lips.
Her heart sinks with the enormity of her grief and the weight of too many unspoken words. Everything that’s left of her broken dreams is standing at the counter, returning her smile.
~*~
He settles on the opposite end of the couch, letting the mug warm his hands. She stares into hers for a few minutes before taking a slow sip, closing her eyes. When she opens them, she’s looking at him with an expression he’s seen only once before in real life, and too many times to count in recent fantasy.
“I love you.”
He blinks. His mouth must hang open, because she’s smiling at him now, a sad, tired smile.
“Don’t look so surprised,” she murmurs, hiding what’s left of her pride in her cup.
~*~
“What would you have done?” she asks. If it had worked, she doesn’t have to say.
“I’d have asked you on a date.”
She pauses to steady her cup on the coffee table, the tea sloshing in her startled hands. “A date?”
“You know—nice clothes, awkward conversation, an expensive wine list, at one of those places that mixes the salad dressing while you watch.”
“Really.”
“Really,” he returns, ducking his head.
“You’d ask your newly impregnated, platonic friend and colleague on an honest-to-goodness date.”
His smile is embarrassed enough to be convincing. “Yeah. I, uh…I thought…if I could give you…give you that…”
He stops, frowns. Her throat is tight when she finally breaks the silence. “Give me what?”
The tea goes cold before he can answer.
~*~
He wakes with a sore neck and Scully’s nose pressed into his hip, a throw tangled around her shoulders. The Late Late Show plays in the background, casting muted shadows on the walls.
She stirs when he stretches, blinking up at him from beneath sleep-addled lashes, as if seeing him for the first time. He wonders if this is what it’s like to hold a newborn; heart filled to bursting with terrifying awe.
“Mulder?”
“I’m here,” he murmurs, stroking the hair from her temple. “Sorry I woke you.”
“Mmph,” she says, her breath warming his abdomen through his t-shirt. “S’OK. I should get up, anyway.”
He nods in agreement, drawing his thumb gently along the plane of her cheek, but neither of them move for a long time.
~*~
She emerges from the bathroom just as he’s finished washing the mugs. Bare feet peek out from oversized silk pajamas, and she surprises herself, wrapping her arms around his waist before she can lose her nerve.
“I’ll stay, if you want,” he murmurs, and she loves him for offering so she doesn’t have to ask.
She loves him for so many reasons. Someday she’ll count the ways, line them up, and tuck them away; programmed, categorized, and easily referenced.
“I’d like that,” she says instead, words muffled by the thrum of his heart.
~*~
She fits perfectly in the circle of his arms, the way he always imagined she would. He times his breathing to the rise and fall of her chest and whispers a blessing into her hair.
“I wanted more for you, Scully.”
Her arms tighten around him, but she doesn't answer.
He holds what little hope is shared between them, and prays that it's enough.
~*~
cc @today-in-fic
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wintfleur · 7 hours
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🍂 ͡ ꒱ JULIETTES RELATIONSHIP WITH HER BROTHERS
au masterlist - everything for the AU is under #🍂 ͡ ꒱ Juliette Leclerc
𐙚 LORENZO!
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Lorenzo . . . ‘Enzo’ is the best big brother, he’s such a role model for her, and she’s always looked up to him.
He’s always been her voice of reason and encouragement, helping her calm down her emotions and not do anything rash, to help her understand what she’s feeling and to listen to what she says and, to always be there to cheer her up and help her out of those dark feelings.
Enzo was the first person she told when she realized she also wanted to kart.
Enzo helped teach her how to drive with there father, Arthur and Charles to scared to get in the car, claiming that she’s ‘going to kill them and drive into a store’ Julie did end up threatening to kill them in a more private and painful way because of all there teasing. Neither of them got in a car with her for months.
Julie gets sister privileges !!!
They have there weekly calls, checking in and making sure everything is good.
Enzo is the best advice giver! And she knows she can talk to him about anything
She loves just curling up in his side.
Just the sweetest big brother ever.
Has have had to pick Julie up at parties when she’s gotten too drunk . . . many times.
They both definitely laugh and tease the other two when they are being dramatic
He loves his little sister very much and will do anything for her!
𐙚 CHARLES!
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Out of all her siblings, she’s definitely the closest to Charles, ever since they were kids.
Yes they had their fair share of arguments and fights, but they have always stuck up for each other no matter what, they can only mess with each other . . . no one else!
They’re each other’s safe place, they both understand the pressure they are both under, and they really help each other out.
Charles was the first person Julie told when she realized that she liked girls as well. And he was the one who helped her gain the courage to come out.
Charles is always the first person to defend her, from the media, interviewers, from anyone. He will not have his sister disrespected.
They both absolutely love their family, planning outings and get togethers for all of them!
They see each other the most
They had a tree house! And would always tease Arthur about not being cool enough to come up and hang with them.
He’s the most nosey brother, wanting to know everything going on in her life . . . but he means well !
They have had some moments where their career has put some strain on their relationship, but it doesn’t last long. It’s just because Julie hates talking about her feelings, and Charles loves talking about hers . . . aka avoidance from Julie.
He loves having sleepovers at her homes!
Sassy duo fr!
They are always messing with each other! And the media absolutely loves it.
You know that tiktok sound ‘this is bob, bob loves his personal space. This is Larry, Larry also loves bob’s personal space’ that’s them, bob is Julie and Larry is Charles.
Sees Julie’s soft side the most
𐙚 ARTHUR!
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That’s her baby . . . no one messes with her baby (yes she’s only a year older . . . but still, he’s her baby)
Julie is Arthur’s favorite sibling and he’s very open about it, Arthur was quite the emotional kid and despite his outburst or over reactions, Julie was always there for him, to help him out, calm him down and, to let him know that he’s not crazy about his feelings
Julie has always been there for Arthur to listen to his worry’s about driving and what his future is in the sport, he trusts her opinion and thoughts more than anyone else.
Arthur hates how every single one of his friends are in love with Julie, and Julie just loves teasing him about it, always giving them a sweet smile and wave.
Arthur is quite clingy towards Julie, physically and emotionally.
Always wanting to sit next to her, get her attention, all of it. I mean, she’s the cool older sister.
He loves practicing his English with her!
He’s also like her biggest fan
He can get a little petty and upset if things don’t go his way with her . . . aka he’s super dramatic.
Arthur loves all of her cooking and baking, like he could eat it all.
First time he got really drunk, he called up Julie and cried, only crying harder when she giggled and tried to reassure him.
He’s always the last one to warm up to Julie’s significant others.
They love watching movies!
Arthur is quite attached to julie, has a fear that she will leave them.
˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( this is pretty short, but I hope it gives you a good idea of Julie’s relationship with her brothers !! She’s a family woman definitely !! Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist )
°. — taglist ( @lovings4turn @toasttt11 @cixrosie @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @theopenlocker @lavisenri @callsignwidow )
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harlowtales · 1 day
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Y/N feels trapped with a baby on the way and Jack distances himself to think
18 Plus Only - Adult Themes and Content
Nobody knew you were pregnant yet. You asked Jack to wait to even tell his family as it had just passed 3months and you didn’t want to jinx it. He was being super paranoid not letting you do anything, and barely go anywhere. He was hyper about germs and the cleaning lady had to be extra careful about how she disinfected every surface.
“Baby come on wash your fucking hands” Jack said one day exasperated and whipping out wipes to wipe your fingers like a child.
“Jack I can lick my fingers I’m at home.” You shot back with your mouth full of popcorn. “Hey when are we going out tonight?” You asked casually assuming you would be going to The Hub with your fiancée and asking to see what time you should get ready. Pregnancy was already making you more tired than usual and you wanted to take a nap before you left.
“Uhh WE?” Jack asked you back
“Yes. When are we leaving?” You repeated
“Baby.” Jack said calmly and sat down looking you in the eye “You won’t be going.”
“What??” You fumed “What the fu…” you firmly clamped your mouth as Jack was trying to not swear around the future baby.
He shot you a disapproving glance. “Please babe, stay home from now on k? Can’t have you in the mix anymore.” Jack explained and thought that would be that with a kiss on your forehead.
“Oh the fuck I’m not going. I’m not sitting home pregnant while you go out and girls seeing you ALONE?? Are you mental?” You raged.
“You don’t go on tour with me and I behave” Jack said to his credit. “You trust me I know you do. You just want to party.”
“No…um not true.” You said as he caught you in your true motives. You loved being out and hanging with everyone. “C’mon baby…Pleaaaassee” You begged flashing your megawatt smile and fluttering your eyelashes.
“That ain’t gone work.” Jack said sternly
“What about this.” You said going down on your knees and starting to pull down his sweatpants.
“Ok baby stop. You’d suck dick to get to go?” Jack said laughing.
“I’m going to be trapped for months after the baby is born.” You said pouting to which Jack finally relented.
“Ok mama you can go.” He said “But I’ll take a rain check on that sloppy toppy, I got some stuff to do before we leave.”
You took a nap and woke up around 6PM to get ready to go. Excitedly you texted your friends Jack actually said yes. You were only slightly showing with a hint of a bump. Most people had no idea you were pregnant, and you weren’t a heavy drinker so the fact that you turned down alcohol the last few weeks didn’t raise any eyebrows either. Urban knew and a couple of Jack’s friends who did security for him when he went out. This was to ensure you had extra protection.
You put your hair up in a ponytail with a longer extension for fun and put on a jumpsuit that wasn’t too tight to give the secret away. To go to the Hub you didn’t have to dress up. Jack thought you looked adorable which got him going even more than you looking ultra sexy.
“Mmmm” he said looking you up and down and pulling you close. “Can I jump in your jumper with you?”
“You passed on a blow job remember?” You reminded him as he kissed you.
Just then your driver and security buzzed up, it was time to go have fun one last time.
The energy of the club is what you needed. You dodged Jack and his friends successfully until the club started getting full. Jack sent Timo to hunt you down and bring you to where he was heading to behind “the wall”. “The wall” was the literal wall Jack’s friends formed in front of him when he went out to clubs so no random people could get too close to him.
Unfortunately for you who had just been convinced by your friends (who didn’t know you were 3 mos pregnant) to dance on the bar and you took the challenge, not because you were drunk but because you just wanted one last crazy thing to do.
“Whooo!! Go Y/N!!” They encouraged you as you twerked a little sticking your tongue out with plans to come down right away but Timo caught you and Jack spotted you texting Timo furiously “BRO TELL HER TO GET DAFUQ DOWN!” Jack texted in all angry caps.
You were in the process of coming down when you met Timo face to face as you touched the ground with his help. “Y/N! You are in trouble young lady.” He said sternly “Come with me.” He said taking you by the arm and whisking you off to where Jack was waiting beet red. You looked back at your friends who felt guilty for egging you on.
“Don’t” Jack said turning his head away as you went up on your tipi toes for a kiss. “I can’t even talk to you right now.”
“It’s called having fun old man.” You snapped “ I went up there on a dare for 2 mins”
“Can you act like a mother for 2 fucking seconds?” Jack angrily whispered. People nearby were trying to hear what was going on but fortunately the thundering bass drowned him out.
“Maybe I would act more like a mom if I wasn’t trapped!” You shot back hurting Jack deeply. All he had been doing was protecting you. He said nothing in return and sipped on his water to calm down. He reasoned you were being emotional given you were pregnant.
“Ok fine. 2 can play this ignoring game.” You said to him to which he pretended not to hear knowing it drove you nuts.
“Ok girly let’s go to the bathroom.” Urban’s girlfriend said taking you away to talk about what was going on with you. It was not like you to be so irresponsible. For once she agreed with Jack. “What’s going on mama?” Azura said kindly hugging you.
“He tells me what to do CONSTANTLY!” You said bursting into tears.
“He does always tell you what to do. Jack is like a stern father, I don’t know how you stand it.” Azura said trying to influence you to jump to Jack’s defence. Her and Urban had just got back together and she didn’t want to see you go through fighting with Jack while pregnant.
“Jack is not a stick in the mud” You said in his defence which Azura knew you would. “He is just trying to…oh I see what you’re doing. Nice one, making me realize my man just wants the best for me and his baby and maybe dancing on a bar is a bad idea.”
“Bingo!! You catch on quick” Azura said sarcastically making you laugh.
“Ok girl let me go apologize to my man.” You said feeling horrible for how you had spoken to Jack.
He was vibing in a corner not talking to anyone. The way you had acted had him down. He had fulfilled his obligation to appear at the club so he was just waiting for you to get out of the bathroom so the both of you could go home. He should have stuck to his guns and made you stay back. Now gossip blogs were going to be reporting about your 5 secs dancing on the bar and the obvious argument the two of you had. When they did the math months later and found out you were pregnant when you were up there, it’s going to be a mini-disaster.
“Ready? We’re leaving early, I have an early morning.” Jack lied.
“Baby…Jackman” You said reaching up to turn his sulking face to yours “I will never do anything like that again. I love you”
“Babe…no come on” He said avoiding your kiss as you reached around his neck to pull him down to you. He was really irritated and sad. It took you by surprise that you couldn’t work your magic and smooth it over. Urban and Azura exchanged concerned glances as you and Jack made your exit.
He was silent all the way home which thankfully wasn’t far from the condo. It was so awkward. When you got back you didn’t push him to talk to you and got ready for bed. Usually by now you guys would be joking again already. Jack didn’t come to bed with you. He sat in his studio room listening to a beat on loop with a pen and pad out. You tossed and turned while you heard the muffled beat through the bedroom walls. When you tipi toed into the studio you found him laying on the floor staring at the ceiling like he often did when he felt depression setting in. There was a whole bunch of scrunched up balls of paper that he had missed the waste paper basket with.
You said nothing and laid down on the floor in the same position next to him. At first he didn’t notice you and then glanced over but maintained his silence. You took a chance and reached out to hold his hand. He took it slowly and held it gently giving you a sense of relief. “Nice beat.” You said quietly
“Thanks. Clay made it.” He said expressionless
“Writer’s block?” You asked referencing all the crumpled up paper on the floor.
“Um sort of” He said turning to you propped up on his elbow “Do you believe in destiny baby?”
“To a degree. I’m not sure.” You said honestly turning to him. “Why?”
“I dreamt you and then I met you.” He said with a whimsical smile taking you by surprise and giving you tingles. “And now you have a part of me inside of you. We’re bonded forever now. Do you understand that means everything to me?”
“Not until now. I…I have felt trapped and sometimes…replaceable.” You said blinking to hold back tears coming.
“I could never do better than you.” Jack said moving closer and kissing you passionately. “Will you just trust that I always mean to do right by you?”
“Yes Jack I will.” You nodded as tears started to fall down your cheeks and he wiped them.
“I will always be here for this moment and wipe every tear as it falls.” He vowed in a near whisper. That’s it!! He said suddenly making you jump. “That’s the song! I’m unstuck! Thank you baby.” Jack said kissing you roughly on the head and leaping up to grab his pen and pad.
“Happy to help.” You said sarcastically “Don’t stay up too late.” You said yawning and heading to bed.
“Oh I’m coming to get some don’t worry” he said looking at your ass in your pyjama pants as you walked away.
@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice
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heich0e · 5 months
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yuuji calls sukuna a lot.
it's almost like second nature to him now, muscle memory even, so many years since getting his first cellphone; any time he finds himself idle, maybe on his walk home after his part-time job, or on a break between his college classes, he picks up his phone and dials his older brother without thinking. they never talk about anything of importance—maybe just what yuuji did that day, or some gossip he overheard, or what the two of them should have that night for dinner—but he still makes the call.
sukuna always acts annoyed when he answers, greeting him with a characteristically terse 'yeah, what?' that yuuji never pays any mind to. but he still answers the call—at least most of the time—and that simple truth speaks volumes in and of itself.
sukuna's phone rings at a few minutes past 1am, and his little brother's name lights up the caller ID.
"yeah, what?" sukuna snaps groggily, holding his phone up to his ear. he'd passed out on the couch soon after he got home from work, a half-drunk and now room temperature can of beer left abandoned on the table in front of his spread knees. yuuji's babbling starts as soon as the call connects and his brother greets him, and it takes sukuna a moment to make sense of him.
"—'n now i can't finder!"
"the hell are you talking about, dumbass?" the elder of the two grumbles, scrubbing a hand across his face. his brother's voice is panicked and hard to understand.
"we got spliddup at the bar, 'n now i dunno where she is anymore—"
"don't know where who is? fuck, are you hammered?" sukuna complains, sitting himself upright on the sofa as he wipes sleep from the corner of his eyes, suddenly a bit more awake than he was when the phone first rang.
yuuji says your name with a croaking, worried voice, and sukuna sighs exasperatedly. he stares down pensively at the can of beer he forgot to drink on the coffee table, then his eyes flicker to a framed photo hanging on the wall across the room—the glass smudged, frame slightly crooked, and photograph sun-bleached from the years it's spent hanging there.
"just..." he grunts as he pushes himself up to his feet, "fuckin' send me the address and stay where you are, idiot."
it's not hard to find his little brother once he arrives to the address yuuji sent him—especially since the youngest itadori brother is waiting (as promised) right by the entrance of the familiar bar near the university campus where both you and yuuji attend classes. it's still busy for so late in the night, but the clubs are closed now and little bars like this are the only places still open. sukuna's not even sure what the difference is anyway, because the lights here are still dim and the music is loud and there are still people dancing off to one side of the establishment, so the distinction between the two seems tenuous if not entirely negligible. but as someone who's spent his fair share of nights in bars just like (and including) this one, he's usually not really one to complain.
but tonight's different.
yuuji is teetering a bit when his brother arrives—an unusual sight, considering he's usually pretty good at holding his liquor.
"shit, how much did you drink?" are the first words out of sukuna's mouth when he approaches.
the youngest itadori's cheeks are flushed as pink as his hair, and he grimaces in the wake of the eldest's question—he's always been a terrible liar, especially when it comes to his brother, so he doesn't even bother trying to deny it. sukuna doesn't wait for a response in any case, turning his head towards the thick of the crowd and letting his eyes scan through it.
he doesn't see you.
"where'd you see her last?" he asks, leaning towards his brother to be heard over the music.
"by the bar!" yuuji replies, raising his own voice to overcome the bass. "she said she was getting one last drink, but she never came back to the table."
yuuji's lip wobbles a bit as he concludes his sentence, but he sucks it quickly into his mouth and catches it between his teeth.
"and you looked for her?" sukuna asks again.
"all over," yuuji nods, letting his lip slip out from between the bite of his incisors to reply. "fushiguro's doing another lap. nobara's checking the bathrooms."
sukuna ruffles a hand through his hair, suddenly realizing it's probably a mess from his rudely-interrupted slumber. "maybe she just left or somethin'."
"she wouldn't do that, you know that," yuuji says firmly. there's an insistence burning behind his eyes as he looks to his older brother, and it's the most sober he's seemed all night.
sukuna rolls his eyes, even though he knows yuuji's right—you'd never leave on your own, much less without so much as a goodbye. the two of you have been joined at the hip for long enough he's almost surprised that yuuji wasn't able to find you with some weird telepathic form of echolocation. he swings an arm up over his little brother's shoulders pushing him down a little just to tease him, before using his grip to tug him towards the crowd.
"you track down that little sea urchin friend of yours and i'll take a look around. meet me back here in ten minutes or text me if you find that little pest, alright?"
the bar is harder to navigate the further in sukuna travels from the entrance, the bodies pressing closer together with every step he takes away from fresh night air. he's pissed off, but that's not out of character for him. he's more pissed off than he usually is, considering not even an hour before he'd been peacefully sleeping at home, and now he's glaring at some drunk college kid who just almost spilled their beer on him.
"move," he hisses through his teeth at the wide-eyed kid whose life he can practically see flashing through his eyes as he shoulders past him. sukuna would be lying if he said the look didn't improve his mood at least marginally.
as sukuna weaves through the bodies in the bar, his eyes don't stop looking for you. it's almost startling how quickly he can rule people out—how definitively he can say that someone is or isn't you with just a passing glance. he starts to doubt himself as he reaches the far corner of the bar and begins to round back towards the entrance, an annoying, grating irritation in the back of his mind. worry, maybe, if he were the type.
then he sees you.
just the faintest glimpse of your profile, caught behind the shoulder of the man who has you backed into a corner by a pillar, hidden mostly away from the crowd—at least as hidden as anyone can be in a place like this.
sukuna feels his lip curling into a furious sneer as he takes a step towards you—people move out of his path wordlessly as he trudges over to that dark corner where you're tucked away.
it's only when he gets a bit closer that he's able to read the lines of your body properly. you're teetering, just like yuuji had been—the two of you had probably enabled each other in your intoxication that night like the stupid kids sukuna knows you both to be. but you're also distinctly uncomfortable, pressed up against the wall as if to put as much distance between you and the man hovering over you as you possibly can. your eyes glance off to the side, like you're searching uselessly for an escape.
instead, they meet his.
"sukuna," you gasp out in surprise, and the man you're speaking to glances over his shoulder in confusion. he seems annoyed, and a bit nervous, when he spots the man (taller, and broader than he is) standing behind him with a scowl.
sukuna hears the relief in your voice when you say his name. reads it behind your glassy eyes.
"what are you doing here?" you ask, reaching out towards him clumsily.
the man in front of you puts a hand on your waist—possibly to steady you, more likely to stop you—and it makes sukuna see red.
"hands off," sukuna snaps, wrapping a hand around your upper arm and tugging you into his side away from the creep.
"who's this? you said you don't have a boyfriend," the kid asks you, jutting a thumb towards sukuna accusatorially.
you mumble something quietly in reply about him being yuuji's brother, tucking yourself a bit closer to sukuna as you say it.
"your brother?" he asks as his eyes squint in confusion, having clearly only caught part of your explanation. "you're ditching me for your brother?"
sukuna's anger flares again at the entitlement this little brat has the nerve to display so flagrantly. the older man's hand slips down to your waist on instinct, and then lower still to the curve of your ass, making a show of how his big hand grips into the flesh beneath it. you squeak quietly at the contact, turning and hiding your burning face against sukuna's chest. he keeps his hand right where it is.
the stranger's eyes widen at the inappropriate display before him and sukuna leans in close with a vicious, almost manic grin.
"we're very close."
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ladadiida · 7 months
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!
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You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
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again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.
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frmisnow · 1 month
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✧˖ ?!— ALWAYS WITH YOU ౨ৎ . - (NSFW.)
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— ‧₊˚ — 𝜗𝜚 : " i want to cum in you every way possible ?? "
summary. your husband spontaneously realizing he wants to have kids with you, was most def. not on your bingo cards!
notes. teeheehee, i need husband! jk injected into my veins!! no but fr might just do a few drabbles of dad kook cause he rly is daddy if you think bout it (+ this is for my dearest pookie, you know who you are!!)
warnings/includes. (017 / breeding), talking about having kids (duh), tit play, overstimulation perhaps??, after care :), he's just so smitten rly
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he wanted to get you pregnant.
maybe that sounded to forward and it probably was considering you despised kids- okay, perhaps didn't despise but not necessarerly a fan either. but god did his heart tight in his chest when he saw you with kids, the way your voice tone instantly shifted to something more sweeted, the way you fixed their hair, smiling innocently not knowing all the fucked up fantasies in the head of your husband.
as he observed you, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of mother you would be. Would you soften, your edges rounding into tenderness, or would you retain that fierce independence that he had fallen in love with?
and the more he thought about the further did his mind wander: you both the bringing the kids to school, a little family on the dinner table, the bedtime stories you'd both tell to bring the kids to sleep, the first steps, heck- the first words.
regardless he knows you'd be a good mother, a great one at that (and a hot one but we move)
admits all the cute fantasies there was all the fucked up stuff leashed under it, the thought of seeing you belly-full was strangely endearing to him that he could take care of you even better then he already did, that you'd just carry something of his, a teny tiny mini mix of him and you.
"god, i can't believe she's making me look over her son, he's a cutie but a menace nonetheless," you shrugged after setting your sisters son up with some other kids, "earth to jungkook" you waved dramatically in front of his face as he seemed still rather zoned out. "i want to have a child with you," he blurted out instantly.
to say that your jaw was on the floor was an understatement, you never thought that jungkook out of all people would want kids so early on, you'd always seen him as a free spirit, doing whatever- whenever but a child meant commitment for a lifetime.
you moved closer to him, removing one hair strand that was losely hanging behind his hair, his gaze unfocused, eyes never settling as if he was scared of what you'll answer, "i want to have kids with you but i don't wanna plan things out if it happens, it happens and if it doesn't right now, it doesn't- let's take it slow"
you saw his expression shift not necessarly sad but still a bit dozed, you ran your hands through his hair as if to cheer him up, squeezing his cheeks after, "you're the only one i could imagine making a family with"
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you did in fact not take it slow- not even in the slightest.
"wanna have everything with you, do anything, fuck- you'd be such a hot mom, baby" he groaned out, lips against your skin, gently biting and licking the fragile skin.
"everything just feels so right with you," Jungkook whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he peppered kisses along your jawline. "I never imagined wanting this until I met you"
your mind felt dizzy, hazy even and you could damn well feel your panties getting ruined solely by his words and what did you do? mentally blame it all you being 'drunk' when you knew that you only had one drink during this whole evening - no, the thought of having his children couldn't possibly have this big of an reaction on you, could it?
"i want to cum in you every way possible," he caresses your hair innocently till pulling just a bit harder, gaze dozing off like he didn't just propose his want for ruining you as a whole, slowly kissing all the bare skin of your upper body till stopping at your chest, "have i ever told you how much i love your tits?"
"huh-" he didn't give you a lot of time to think, licking and nibbling like he had been starved of your company and body for months, leaving a few dark hickeys behind, mouth going back to your ear mumbling something almost inaudible about being 'so hard' for you, only you.
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you didn't know how much stamina this fucking guy had.
the sound of skin slapping against skin, whines and sobs having have filled the apartment for damn long, you were sure you heard some sorta banging against the walls from your neighbours - certaintly wouldn't be the first time.
whenever he came in you, he watched the cum drip out of you even going as far as tasting the release of of his fingers himself, his hips almost like moving on their own after everytime reaussuring you "just to make sure"
whispering sweet nothings into your neck, cock slapping in and out of you, how you'd make the "prettiest fucking babies" and how he'd "always be there for you"
and after he's done with you, he'd help you clean up, softly washing you, gently placing tiny little kisses over your shoulders, getting you all wrapped up in bed later, clinging onto you like you were about to fade.
your eyes barerly open as his hands brushed over your hair, so slowly like he was luring you to sleep, "you're so important to me"
you fall asleep with a smile on your face, the one he so adores.
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tyunni · 2 months
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┈➤ I LIKE YOU SO MUCH!!! (when ENHYPEN like you...)
enhypen masterlist | library
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genre: fluff, fluff, fluff! warnings: i'm not sure if any specific gender is mentioned but keep in mind i do tend to usually write fem!reader, enha r kinda losers, mentions of being drunk in jakes part, isnt proofread so if you see any mistakes.... oh well! wc: 2.6k+
a/n: good lord, i haven't written anything in MONTHS so i'm a bit rusty 😭 i started writing maknae line first im p sure you can tell i put more effort in them and then i started getting tired, sorry😭😭😭
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☆ — LEE HEESEUNG
who would've thought the cool, the chill, the awesome lee heeseung would end up being such a loser. a lovestruck, foolishly in love loser.
your fingers lightly grazed his hand when you walked past him in the hallway today, a touch that lasted a mere second, yet heeseung's heart exploded, and so did his friends' group chat when he boasted about your interaction like you had just asked his hand in marriage. he knows being lovesick is lame, but so what?! he can't help that he melts into a pink puddle of adoration whenever you make small talk, or when he closes his eyes an image of you pops into his head and makes his palms feel sweaty. yes, he feels his knees go weak at the mere mention of your name, and he's willing to endure his younger friends teasing him every time they spot you hanging out with your own group of friends.
so what if you're the only thing on his mind every second of his day. it's completely normal to make playlists for your crush, giggle, and roll around in your bed when you let the lyrics sink in and fill your head with the thoughts of the one you desire.
it's also totally normal of him to write down little compliments on a piece of paper and put them on your desk when you're not looking. he giggles like a little girl when you open the note and read not even a third fraction of what heeseung truly thinks of you and wishes to tell you one day. his smile grows wider when you finally read the initials written on the note, LHS, and you look over to his desk with your cheeks dusted pink, widened eyes looking into heeseung's.
(rest of the members under the cut!!)
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☆ — PARK JONGSEONG
jay is very fond of you, he accepted that quite quickly. you're cute. he likes cute stuff, that's something new he has discovered since he started to fancy you.
"jay, are you serious?" - riki turned towards the older with a blank face, tired of his friends new shopping addiction, - "you have like 4 hello kitty stuffed toys in your bedroom, you don't need another one."
ah, innocent, naive riki. he doesn't know having a crush makes one forget about any form of rationality and make every decision without giving it another thought. jay is the number one victim of the 'everything reminds me of them' disease, he feels every wrinkle of his brain smoothen whenever he thinks of you, so it's not a surprise that he can't control his hand as he swipes his credit card and buys himself another plushie with a lovestruck grin on his face.
"are you even listening to me?" - the younger complains, jabbing jay's arm with his elbow to get at least a little reaction out of him. if anything else but you were on jay's mind this would've worked and he would've scolded riki by now, talking his ear off about how annoying he is, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes at his childishness. but it doesn't work.
"you're such a cheeseball, y/n has made you soft, jay, she's ruining you!"
but riki's words fall on deaf ears the second jay's eyes land on another cute stuffed animal that had reminded him of you as he grabs his friend's arm roughly and drags him into yet another store.
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☆ — SIM JAEYUN
oh, he's down bad. jake would do anything for you. yes, even walking all the way from his house to the party you were at just to pick you up and walk you home, making sure you reach your house safely.
you called him in the middle of the night, the buzzing of his phone waking jake up. he groaned at the brightness of his screen flashing his newly opened eyes, yet at the sight of your name he rubbed the sleepiness off them, quickly picking up your call.
"jake, i'm drunk!"
and that's all it took for him to jump out of his bed and run towards his destination. surely enough you were waiting outside for him, a big smile growing on your face at the sight of him.
sure, he was extremely tired and out of breath, his voice was still groggy from waking up around 10 minutes ago, the cold, chilly night yet to have its effect on him and wake him up completely, yet he still let you ride on his back when you started complaining about how your heels hurt your feet.
you had been talking to him about something, even though you had no idea what you were saying with the way your words were slurred, your voice muffled by his jacket. jake was nodding his head, humming after a few sentences to make sure you knew he was listening, even though he didn't know what he was listening to. you started off by talking about the party, and somewhere along the way you got lost in your own words and so did jake. his soft hums and the steady rhythm of his feet lulled you to sleep, and when he felt your eyelashes close against the nape of his neck, your breath falling onto his skin as your cheek rested further upon his shoulder is when he finally let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, stopping in his tracks to close his eyes and think to himself:
"fuck, i love her, don't i?"
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☆ — PARK SUNGHOON
sunghoon is desperately in love with you. he can't help it, butterflies swarm his stomach when he thinks about you, a sheepish grin makes its way onto his features when you talk to him, his eyes dart across your face every chance he gets so he can burn every second spent with you right into his memory.
"sunghoon, do you think this looks good or should i try on the blue sweater?"
to be completely honest, even if you wore a trash bag he'd think you looked gorgeous, and he hadn't been paying attention to any outfit you had shown him so far, your smile which grew wider with each compliment he gave you the only thing on his mind.
"you look beautiful, y/n."
"oh, come on, sunghoon! you've been telling me this about every outfit!" - you groan, yet a grin is still plastered on your face at his sweet words, "you have to help me!"
sunghoon tries, he really tries to hold himself back. his teeth sink into his tongue in hopes of biting back the words that were about to slip out, yet they still do. and so does his little secret.
"it's not my fault i'm in love with you!"
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☆ — KIM SUNOO
sunoo is a sweet guy. everyone likes him: the teachers, the students, his friends, and complete strangers. his smile is contagious, his face is soft and beautiful, his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, and he's kind, helpful, friendly. who wouldn't like him? well, you, apparently.
it's not that he's intrigued by your cold attitude towards him, he's simply determined to make you like him just like everyone else. it's quite difficult to get to know you though, you don't speak to anyone except a select few. if your friends don't come to school you usually sit alone, either mindlessly scribbling in your notebook, or sleeping. you always have that look on your face. one of pure boredom, uninterest, that "why are you even talking to me" face.
sunoo thinks it's stupid. how could you not be thrilled to talk to the people around you? how is it even possible to not want to get to know everyone, to grow your circle, have new people to talk to and share experiences with.
you know who sunoo is. everyone knows who sunoo is. when he walks past you down the hallway he's always waving at someone, stopping in his tracks a few times to have a little small talk, then quickly picking up his pace once the bell rings so he gets to make it in time for class. it doesn't matter if he's late though, the teachers adore him like he's their own son, and he hasn't gotten a single second of detention. sunoo has the sunshine privilege. that's unfair. you don't like when things are unfair. you don't like the sunshine privilege. you don't like sunoo.
so you avoid him.
but he somehow still finds his way back to you.
"she totally hates you, dude, get over it," - sunghoon groans, shoving another loaf of bread into his mouth, and threatening to shove some into sunoo's mouth so he stops talking about you for the fifth time today.
"but why?! i didn't even do anything to her, i tried talking to her every single day since she moved here, i'm nice, i'm helpful, i'm a great guy, what am i doing wrong?!" - the younger boy whines into his palms, head buried in his hands, trying to come up with a way to win you over.
one of his other friends chimes into the conversation, taking a seat in between his friends and playfully wrapping his arm around sunoo, - "it's okay, man, there must be a way to get your little crush to like you!"
sunoo whips his head towards the boy, eyebrows furrowed so deeply that you'd think they'd merge into one another any second. - "heeseung, it's not a crush!"
sunghoon chuckles at his oblivious friend, - "is too!"
"... is it?"
you are kinda cute. your attitude, although not sunoo's style, makes you look even more adorable. you have pretty lips too, although you're always frowning. he thinks you'd look better with the corners of your lips turned upwards though. he wants to see you smile. he wants to make you smile. he wants to make you his.
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☆ — YANG JUNGWON
jungwon thinks he's a pretty chill guy. he's always been levelheaded. most of the time he's the only levelheaded person in the room, to be completely honest. he knows what to say and when to say it. although he resembles a cat, the saying "cat got your tongue" had never applied to him. so why is he standing in front of you, his crush, ready to have his very first conversation with you, without a single word coming out of his mouth?
"oh, hey! jungwon, right?" - you ask, sending a soft smile his way.
you know his name. you know his name. you know his name.
"huh? yeah... i'm jungwon. um..." - his confident smile fades instantly when it really sinks in that he has no idea what to say to you. he always knows what to say, how could this happen to him?! this is ridiculous. if he weren't standing in front of you right now he'd slap himself in hopes of rattling his brain somehow.
your eyebrows furrow at the awkward silence taking over, - "do you need anything, jungwon?"
his name falls past your lips so gracefully that if hearing you say his name followed with the three words he wants to say to you the most means he must sell his every worldly possession, he will. but he can't tell you that. he can't tell you how pretty your eyes are either, he can't tell you that he wants to hold your hand, or wrap his arms around you and keep you in his warm embrace for a little while. or how he wants to bury his head in the crook of your neck and bask in your warmth, or that you're the most beautiful person he has ever laid his eyes on and it'd be an honor to take you out on a date. yeah, he definitely can't say that.
"you're the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on, it'd be an honor to take you out on a date..."
it's over. he's a goner.
the way you twiddle with your fingers at his confession goes completely unnoticed despite his big round eyes growing wider at his own words. he's too far gone to see how a warm smile had made its way onto your face.
"sure, i'd love to!"
it's not over. in fact, it's just getting started.
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☆ — NISHIMURA RIKI
riki is quite good at hiding his crush on you, considering how the overwhelming feelings have such a weight to them that he's sure his heart doubles at the mere mention of your name to make room for the intense emotions that'll start kicking in. you two aren't dating, although he wishes you were, and you're most definitely not best friends. he knows you, you know him, you think he's nice, he thinks about you every second of every day, y'know, the usual...
"riki, hey!" - you push through the crowd of students walking around a narrow hallway that could only be described as a jar filled to the brim with tiny little ants, very studious one's at that!
his friends' heads immediately turn your way. a girl, talking to riki?! although their eyes don't stay glued on you for too long, they quickly glance at riki. the sight was hilarious, his long fingers were brushing through his disheveled hair, free hand tugging at the hem of his hoodie to smoothen out any wrinkles. there's a soft tint of pink spread across his cheeks, nothing too noticeable, although the burning red glow of his ears was far from discreet.
"y/n, hey!" - he grins, the hand combing through his hair now scratching the nape of his neck to try and play it cool... very smooth! a muffled laugh escapes from one of his friend's shut lips as their orbs dart between the boy and you.
you reach into your pocket, rummaging through the various things you keep inside. crackling of your house keys and noises of crumpled-up paper can be heard before you take out something. riki's eyes try their best to tear away from your mesmerizing features so he can see what you're trying to show him with your arm stretched towards him and a big grin on your face. he notices a little something lying on your palm. it's a duck keychain. if you were any other person he'd look at the item in your hand with a disgusted look on his face, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squinting in pure horror. but you're you. you're the love of his life. that's probably why riki can feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, a stupid smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he tries his best to fight it off, yet the inevitable happens.
"take it, it's a gift! i saw it on the way to school and it reminded me of you!"
he quickly takes the keychain from your palm, ensuring his fingers stray as far away from yours as possible. even the slightest bit of physical contact and he feels his heart will explode for good. he mumbles out a thank you before you turn on your heels and walk away, completely oblivious that the butterflies in his stomach now make their way towards his throat, making him swallow dry.
"hey, riki, what's that?" - jungwon nudges him with his elbow, eyeing the item riki's holding between his fingers. a smile makes its way onto jungwon's lips as he glances up at his friend who's currently grinning from one red ear to another, rosy cheeks like pink buttons on a sweater made with love and care.
"i thought you hated ducks," - sunoo adds, sly hands reaching towards the keychain to try and pry it out of riki's hands, but instead the tall boy clutches harder onto the item, bringing it to his chest.
"well i like this one!" - he adds, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring at his nosy friend.
riki never knew he could like ducks this much.
©tyunni please don't copy, translate or repost any of my work!
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hyunniesgirl · 2 months
Text
Can I be your favorite?
Pairing: Lee know x reader
Genre: smut, fluff
Summary: Lee Minho is unreachable, someone you can only just dream of being with. Until one day, you enter the wrong door at a party and ends up with him inviting you to sit on his lap.
Part 2
THIS CONTENT IS +18 ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings: corruption kink, protected piv, fingering, Minho is kinda possessive.
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You're okay with not being popular, it's not like you'll be like that forever, it's just college and in a few years everything will be forgotten so you just keep living your life, going to your classes and hanging out with your best friend.
The only time you ever wish you were popular, though, is when you see him. Lee Minho. The guy of your dreams. He's vice president of the greatest fraternity on campus, so everyone knows him.
Lee Minho is someone mysterious, no one knows much about him other than that he changes girlfriends faster than he changes clothes. So more than half of the girls in this university already had their heart broken by him.
That doesn't make you like him less though, it's not like something will ever happen between you two so a little crush on him is not something to worry about, even more so when he doesn't even know about your existence.
Your best friend, Jihyo is the opposite of you, she likes partying and she always tries to drag you to one of her nights out. That's how you ended up in the situation you're in right now. Alone in the kitchen of a frat house, listening to a drunk guy teaching you about your own major, while sipping on a drink you're not even sure about the contents.
You watch as a group of people play beer pong on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, everyone is sweating and there's alcohol being spilled all over the place. You're at a safe distance but you pity the person who's going to clean this up later on.
You have no idea where Jihyo went, she told you she was going to the bathroom half an hour ago and never came back. You're tired of hearing this guy too, he's talking about first year contents when you're already in your third year.
“That's so interesting”, you smile at him, “but I have to go find my friend now”, you don't let him say a word, quickly sneaking away from the kitchen.
You look around, trying to find your best friend, but she's nowhere to be seen. Maybe she's on the second floor, you ask people and they tell you exactly where the bathroom is. However, you shouldn't be so quick as to trust drunk people.
Because when you open the door people pointed out as the bathroom, you find a room with red lights brightening the dark space.
There's a bed in the middle of the room and in that bed there's a couple and that couple happens to be Lee Minho and someone you have no idea who it is. They are luckily not in a compromising position, not making out or something worse. She's just sitting on his lap, having her giggles stopped by the bright light that comes from the door when you open it.
Your eyes grow wide when Minho looks at you with his fierce unfriendly eyes.
“Hm- I'm- sorry, I thought this was the bathroom”, you smile sheepishly, fidgeting on your feet.
Minho looks at you up and down and you swear you can see a smirk forming on his lips, but you're not sure since the light is not great.
“I guess the sign with my name on the wall is not very visible”, he points out dryly, making your face turn red. Great, that's great. Nice way to be humiliated by your crush, y/n.
“I apologize, I really didn't see it”, you say again. You should already have gotten out of there but for some reason it seems that your feet are stuck on the ground.
“Honey, why don't you go downstairs, I'll talk to you later”, Minho says to the girl on his lap, making her groan in frustration. She gets up, angrily walking past you. “You should close the door if you're going to stay”, he tells you and your feet finally move just enough to be able to close the door with you still inside.
“Do you know where the bathroom is?” You ask like an idiot.
“I live here”, he says obviously, “but I don't think you're still looking for the bathroom”, he grins, seeing you lick your lips. “Why don't you come and take a seat?”
Your legs move on it's own once more, giving slow unsure steps in his direction. You sit on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully as he leans back, supporting his upper body on his hands, arms spread on the mattress.
He stares at you, surprised. Minho chuckles, shaking his head.
“That's not what I was talking about”, he tells you, landing his hand on his thigh and tapping there. “Why don't you try sitting here?” He asks.
You feel your whole body turning hot, why is he asking for you to sit on his lap?
“I-I should get going”, you stand up fast, but before you can walk away he takes a deep breath.
“Are you sure that's what you want?” Minho tilts his head, waiting for your answer.
No, that's not what you want. You really, really want to sit on his lap and let him do anything he wants with you. So you give in to your desires, stepping closer to him and bending down to sit on his thigh.
He bites on his bottom lip, watching you fidgeting and trying to get comfortable. By the way you're stiff, it's obvious you have never done this before and that gets him excited.
He corrects his posture, sitting with his chest close to you. One of his hands lands on your left thigh and the other goes to your waist.
Minho doesn't need to waste another second to find out that he likes you. You're just his type, shy and reserved, someone who he can corrupt. Someone who can make him go absolutely crazy.
“You see, I see the way you look at me”, he says, caressing your back with the hand he had on your waist. “Jihyo is not very quiet and every time she catches my attention you're there and every time I look at you, you're looking at me”, he says, like he's saying something you don't know. “After some time I just came to the conclusion that you may like me. Am I right about that?”
You nod automatically, like you're obligated to tell him the truth. Maybe your brain just doesn't work when you're near him.
“Hmm”, Minho hums, “tell me then, what can you do for me?”
“W-what do you mean?” You manage to ask, getting goosebumps with every touch of his.
“I mean to say, why should I choose you? I have a great number of options”, he smirks. He's teasing now, even though he's already set on making you his, he just wants to hear your answer.
You have so many things to use at your advantage, pretty lips that he wants to kiss, soft skin that he wants to leave marks all over and the sweetest voice that he wants to hear crying his name while he fucks you so deeply you'll beg him to keep going.
“Anything”, you gulp, “you can do anything you want with me, I'm entirely yours”, and that is better than anything else he could hear. That is the last straw.
Minho puts his hand behind your neck, pulling you to him and kissing you in a hungry, hot kiss. He grabs your hair with the other hand, pulling a handful and making you groan with the sudden pain but it's still so good. His tongue brushes on your lips, entering your mouth and slightly caressing yours. The way he's grabbing you is just too much, you feel like you're going to explode at any moment.
Minho lets go of you for a moment just to take his shirt off, showing you his bare chest. He gets back on grabbing you, pressing you against his body. You're not sure if this is right but it definitely doesn't feel wrong.
You take your crop top off, throw it on the floor and pray that Jihyo will forgive you for doing that with her clothes. Wrapping your arms around Minho's neck, you kiss him again, feeling his bulge beneath you.
He sneaks a hand down your stomach, unbuttoning your jeans and pushing your panties to the side as soon as he manages to reach your soaking cunt.
Minho presses a finger on your clit, you stop the kiss just to gasp and he pulls away, staring at you while he inserts a finger between your folds.
“Has anyone ever fingered you?” He whispers, listening to your low moans, you're cute trying to hold back.
You open your eyes to look at him, shaking your head. That's beautiful, he gets even more excited to know he's the first one giving you pleasure like that.
“And what about sex, have you had it before?” He asks one more question, pushing his finger in and out of you.
“A-a few times”, you struggle to say, feeling your cheeks hot.
“That's good, virgins aren't really my thing”, he smirks, “then, you can handle one more finger, right?” He asks, not waiting for your answer and pushing in another finger inside of you.
“Oh”, it's the only sound you can make. You hold him harder, with your mind dizzy. “It's too much”, you sob, feeling the stretch, it burns a bit but it's so good.
“Oh, Kitten”, he pouts. “How are you supposed to handle my cock if you can't handle two fingers? I'm bigger than that”, he smirks while saying that.
“I can do it, I can”, you nod frantically, too drunk on the pleasure of his fingers inside you to think straight.
“I'm glad you're confident”, he takes his fingers out of you and takes them to his mouth, liking every drop of your juice. “Your taste might be my new favorite”
He helps you get up, your legs are weak even though you didn't cum. Minho helps you lie on the bed, pulling your jeans down, trailing kisses down your legs while dragging out the fabric.
“You are pretty”, he mutters, taking off his pants and underwear, crawling back to stay on top of you, kissing your chest and your collarbone, biting on the skin and leaving a couple of hickeys there. Minho goes down your breasts, sucking and licking your nipples, kneading at the other with his hand. He's humping on your leg, rubbing his hard cock on your thigh.
His touch makes you feel like you're on fire, tingling sensations spreading all over your body. His kisses leave you so turned on, you don't think you ever felt this horny.
“Kitten”, he calls you, making you blush. It's crazy to think that even though you two are naked in front of each other, him calling you a pet name is what makes you flustered.
Minho gives you a peck on the lips, leaning over to the bedside table to look for a condom. He opens the package with his teeth, spitting the piece of plastic and stroking his cock on hand.
He looks so good, standing on his knees in between your legs, eyes closed feeling his fist caressing him.
“Let me do it”, you take the courage to say, sitting and taking the package out of his mouth into your hands. Minho watches you attentively as you grab the base of his cock, sliding the condom down his length.
“Fuck”, he murmurs, grabbing your face on his hands and kissing you so hard you can taste blood, not sure from which of you.
Minho positions himself in your entrance, looking at you to wait for your consent and when you nod he pushes in. You wrap your legs around his hips, trying to bring him closer even though it hurts a bit, it's so good you think you will go crazy.
“M-minho”, you moan, throwing your arms around his waist, digging your nails on his skin.
“Shit, you're perfect”, he starts moving, each trust making you moan louder. Your walls are squeezing him so deliciously that he can cum at any moment. His cock feels so good, reaching all the places you didn't even know existed.
Minho kisses you, fucking into you so fast you can barely breath. You never thought he could be even more beautiful, hair stuck on his sweaty forehead, eyes staring intensely at yours, bottom lip stuck between his teeth while he fucks you senseless. He leans closer, kissing your neck, leaving a long and a bit painful mark there.
“You're mine now”, he smiles shakily, clearly close to his release. You can feel your orgasm approaching too, cumming and tightening your legs around his hips, making his release follow yours.
Minho gives you a kiss before falling to your side, breathing heavily accompanied by you. You don't know what to say and you're scared he'll pretend this was nothing so you get up, collecting your things, not waiting for him to kick you out.
“What are you doing?” He asks, scowling.
“Getting dressed so I can get out”, you explain naively, being watched by him like you're the prey and he is the predator.
“What part of “you're mine now”, you didn't understand?” He asks, laying down with an arm beneath his head and the other stretched to the side of the bed, waiting for you to lie there. “Come back here, I'm not even nearly done with you”, he smirks, watching you blush again.
You drop the clothes you have collected, crawling back on the bed and snuggling close to him. Minho pulls you closer, turning to you and wrapping his free arm around your waist.
“I'll tell you what we're gonna do”, he explains and you nod, “I'm going to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is my name and after that I'll take you out to dinner”
Lee Know presses his body on yours, showing you that his cock is already hardening again and you giggle, blushing once more.
Never have you felt so happy to trust drunk people's instructions.
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A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.
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my--moon · 3 months
Note
hey, another child of dionysus here! do you think you could do a percy x daughter of dionysus one shot 🙏🏼🙏🏼
❝ Daddy doesn't like you ❞
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Pairing; Percy Jackson X Fem!Reader (Child of Dionysus) Warning; mentions of alcohol, making out, disobeying parents (okay, I lied about being none) heavily implied smut (Percy openly says it who am I kidding?) and nude bodies (nude bodies shouldn't always be sexual btw) Based on Camilla Cabello's song “My Oh My” (great song, hits different on Christmas Eve) A/N; tagging my love; @riordanness
Next: Tonight is Ours
Look, (Y/N) may of had a rebellious streak. She may of gotten hurt one too many times. She may of gotten drunk by accident more than once.
But she was a good kid!
And sleeping with the one boy your dad hates is never on someone's to-do list! Not even (Y/N)'s and she loved to piss off her dad!
Why did (Y/N) sleep with Percy? Okay, I can't answer that exactly—mainly because I don't know.
All of last night was a blur—first it was drunken karaoke—then spin the bottle—I think 7 minutes in heaven happened after Travis Stoll hooked up with Katie?
Either way; this was never meant to happen.
“Oh. My. Gods...” (Y/N) mumbled, her eyes widening in horror as she saw the one boy—THE ONE BOY—She wasn't supposed to sleep with... In her bed.
Her plum coloured satin sheets draped over his nude, sun-kissed skin. Her clothes on the floor, and his clothes near by, hanging off a chair by her desk.
She slowly arose from her laying position, trying oh so carefully not to wake him up. The sheets that covered her chest slid down, but (Y/N) caught it just in time.
An arm wrapped around her waist.
(Y/N) yelped at the sudden touch of a cold skinned arm. Percy pulled her back down, her head hitting the plush plum pillow and her face being buried into his bare chest.
Blood rushed to her cheeks. This would take a lot more than just giving dad some cheap wine to get off the hook...
“Stay.” Percy mumbled. A sleepy yet firm voice telling her to stay while he has a death grip on her hips.
You expect her to say no to that?
Their body's moulded around each other perfectly, their skins melting into each other's warmth. Percy nuzzled himself into the crook of (Y/N)'s neck.
“We shouldn't be here..” she muttered.
“I don't care.” Percy replied, shifting around slightly for a more comfortable position. “Who's to stop us?”
“My dad. He hates you.” (Y/N) answered. Small grape vines intertwined in her hair as her emotions deepened.
“He doesn't hate me.” Percy tried to think of an excuse for Dionysus' hatred towards the son of the sea. “He.. okay, yea; he hates me.”
(Y/N) made a face of 'ya don't say' before gliding her palms along the old gashes that scarred his body.
When Percy looked up to see out the window—it was still early morning. Nobody would be up at this hour—maybe the Apollo kids, but they're early birds, whether they like it or not.
“It's too early for anyone to be out.” He commented, before lying his head back down next to hers.
(Y/N) let out a hum, before burying her face in his chest. Thin grape vines wrapping around his bicep. Making him chuckle. “Is this your doing?”
(Y/N) let out purr. “Maybe.” She mumbled, noticing his chuckle and tired yet affectionate eyes. “Y'know... Daddy says you're annoying and arrogant. I don't see what he means.”
Percy let out a low toned laugh at her words. “That didn't stop me from sleeping with his only daughter now, did it?”
(Y/N) lightly blushed and a breathy laugh escaped out from her mouth. “No, it didn't.” She answered.
Both if them knew this wasn't supposed to happen. But if the god of pleasure couldn't handle a small fling that his daughter had, is he really the god of pleasure?
Percy's hands started to get more grabby, groping at her hips and moving his mouth down onto her collarbone.
(Y/N) hummed and giggled at his kisses, gripping at the sheets of her bed holding him gently as he placed passionate bites on her neck and shoulders.
A knock at the door echoed throughout the room. The two's pleasurable and sweaty session was put on hold as they perked up at the sound. Another knock was heard.
The pair froze. “Who's that?” Percy whispered.
“It's can't be Pollux, he's on a quest..” (Y/N) replied, before sitting up straight to look out the window.
Her father, Dionysus stood at the door, his arms crossed and his iconic outfit of a leopard print shirt and denim shorts was present.
“Fuck!” She cursed out, pushing the son of Poseidon off her and grabbing her clothes. She threw Percy's clothes over to him and he frantically got dressed.
“(Y/N)?” Mr. D called out from outside, he knocked again. Percy was now dressed in his CHB shirt and usual shorts, only differences his beaded necklace wasn't there—?
“Uhhh... In a minute, dad!” (Y/N) called back out to her father. She turned back to Percy and motioned to the window. “You need to leave, like right now!”
“C'mon.. he won't care!” Percy argued, before meeting (Y/N)'s glare. “Alright, I'll leave.” He said, before placing a quick kiss on her cheek and sneaking off out the window.
“Oh, and before I forget; thanks for the sex, vino.” He smirked before slipping out of the window. He asked her 'wine' in Spanish.
(Y/N) blushed before fixing up her hair. “Heyyy daddyy!” she said as she flung the door open, having a firm grip on the handle and a fake smile—hopefully he didn't notice.
“Hey, sweet. I've got to talk to you about something.” Mr. D said, wiping his feet on the doormat before entering. He walked over to her messy bed (somehow didn't notice the vines from before) before talking to his daughter.
“Look, (Y/N). You're a smart girl, right? So, you'd understand when I tell you—” Crunch. went beads under the wine God's foot. Dionysus looked down and lifted up his foot.
“Why are Peter Johnson's beads in your room?”
“Um.. I can explain...?”
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months
Note
I never really made a request before so that's my first time wish u like it
So I was thinking about some fluff drunk y/n acting all stupid and flirty to bakugo who doesn't like drinking around her because he knows that they both won't have someone to send them home if they got drunk
[Secretly caring]
*Whispering* he also gets a bit touchy if she let's him
*friends to lovers thing*
Wish my explanation was good enough and can't wait for the next chapter of FBRC <3
OUUU this is such a cute idea ! i’m so happy, this is my first request as well so we both have a milestone LMAOOO ! i tried to honour your request as best i could ! <3 (OU and AAAAA im glad you like FBRC ! i hope you’ll keep reading !)
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bakugou katsuki considers himself a mature, mostly rational person.
despite what others, media outlets and even his own damn friends might say, katsuki thinks he’s really not that bad.
sure, he’s flipped off a camera man, cursed out another one…and another one—but who doesn’t have a bad day once in a while ?
he’s changed since he was a kid, he doesn’t get set off as easy anymore most days. he’s learned to be more patient, a little more levelheaded. that’s at least something his shitty friends will tell you.
he’s changed from when he was a kid, he’s grown now. he’s a man.
but right now katsuki feels like smashing your head in with a brick.
"kah-su-kiiiiiiiii... m'sleeppyy" you whine, leaning against his shoulder.
katsuki doesn't regret a lot, but he sure as hell regrets accepting to go out for drinks with you. again. you had said something about 'celebrating getting a day off after a while'.
"never should've accepted goin' out with yer ass." he laments grumpily. despite the fact he says this every single time he goes out to drink with you, he never seems to learn his lesson. he never seems to want to learn his lesson.
truth is, katsuki has grown a lot since his UA days but one thing he hasn't outgrown is his giant rampant crush on you. it's embarrassing how tightly you've got him wrapped around your finger, how easily you can get him to do whatever you want as long as you just asked him to.
he complains and grumbles about it but he'll never, ever, say no to you.
which is how he always, always, ends up in this predicament.
katsuki snaps out of his thoughts when he hears you sniffle.
"y-ya don't like.." you sniffle again " ya don't like hangin' out wif me ?"
fuck.
immediatly it's like a switch had been flipped. he moves his arm so he can wrap it around you and have you lean against his chest. you always got emotional when you were a little too drunk, that usually meant it was time to go.
"no—no, s'not that. i—" he sucks in a breath, cheeks heating up despite the fact he knows there's barely any chance you'll remember this. usually he'd remind you of your embarrassing drunk moments as revenge for making him take you home and taking care of your ass because you were too drunk to, but he'll refrain from mentioning this part.
"i do like hangin' out with you, dummy. quit talkin' stupid." he shushes you softly, unconsciously rubbing your arm comfortingly.
"b-but you said, you regretted goin' out wit me" you pout. fuck, you're cute. katsuki has to fight off the urge to lean down and kiss it away.
"i say a lot of stuff i don't always mean, sweets. you know that." he replies " 'f i didn't wanna hang out with ya, i wouldn't."
you hum pensively, leaning against his shoulder as you think. you smell like something sweet, he can't quite track down what it is, but it's making him dizzy. you've always had the ability to make him lose focus. you're so close and you smell so good and katsuki feels like he's drunk.
"mmyeah...guess that's true" you hiccup. you raise your hand up to trace his jaw line with your finger and he refuses to look at you but he can hear the cheeky little smile in your voice "you like hanging out with me, right ? that's why you always say yes when i ask !
he scoffs "i only say yes 'cuz i know you'd just end up goin' out anyway, you'd get yourself in trouble." he's stiff as a fucking board, he feels like if he moves a little too much he'll say something he shouldn't.
"no i wouldn't" you argue, then you reach your whole hand up to squeeze his cheeks "but even if i did, i know you'd come to save me, mr. dynamight" you giggle
he's so sick of you. katsuki's been in plenty of situations where he was this close to death, but he's certain you're gonna be the death of him.
"time for bed" he grumbles. he lifts you by your shoulders slightly until you can properly stand on your feet "m'getting you home, yer too drunk to be up right now" he asserts, chuckling when you pout at him when he flicks your forehead
"you're not the boss o' me ! 'm completely—oops" you trip forward but katsuki catches you with ease, he's always there to.
you look up at him innocently and he looks down at you with one eyebrow raised "you were sayin' ?" he sassed.
you roll your eyes at him and push off him slightly to stand more comfortably, you stick your tongue out at him. " i said—i'm fine..but if you wanna take me home that badly, i guess i'll allow it" you shrug. katsuki squints then shakes his head, smiling to himself. you catch him and giggle, he can't cover up his chuckle fast enough. you must look stupid to the other people in the bar just sitting there giggling at each other, he realizes. then he remembers he could honestly not give enough of a shit about what these other drunk losers thought, the only drunk loser he cared about was right here in his arms.
right where you belonged.
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you're out like a light by the time katsuki's brought you back to your apartment, but he doesn't mind, he'd expected it anyway. he carries you like a sack of potatoes to your floor. he's glad he'd managed to grab your keys before you fell asleep, having to wrestle the keys from you and risk you getting cranky at him doesn't sound all that nice right now.
he helps you take off your shoes and he's extremely grateful you're just lucid enough to change by yourself. he helps you clean up and brush your teeth, then carries you to bed even though he knows damn well you could walk just fine. not before getting you to down a glass of water.
you're annoying when you're drunk and sleepy, you're whiny and everything is too much work for you. katsuki grumbles right along with you, calling you a pain in the ass, then promptly taking it back when he sees you tearing up again. he grumbles and complains but he knows he wouldn't let anyone else do it for him. not only because he's sure whoever it is wouldn't even be able to do this half as well as he does, but also because despite his better judgement, despite the fact you piss him off to no bounds, you're his to take care of. and he'd be damned if he let anyone else take care of what's his.
so you whine, and he complains, but he truly wouldn't have it any other way.
you insist on wanting him to stay with you and he knows he probably shouldn't. he likes you too much to just casually stay here with you, he knows he won't be able to sleep and he's just going to keep staring at your lashes fluttering as you dream. but you pout at him and plead him so sweetly, he really can't say no to you.
he likes you too much.
he steals one of your hoodies and a pair of sweatpants (he technically isn't stealing—since they're both his to begin with) and climbs into bed with you. you immediatly latch onto him, nuzzling into his shoulder before thanking him.
"for what ?" he mutters sleepily, slowly wrapping his arms around you.
"for.." you interrupt yourself with a yawn, he chuckles "for always takin' care of me..you're the best."
if you were more sober, he'd simply answer with a cocky "tell me something i don't know." but you're not and katsuki's already too far gone, so he squeezes your waist in appreciation then responds " i'm always gonna take care of you."
he's suprised by how soft and sappy he sounds but you suprise him even more when you lean up slightly to press a feather light kiss to the underside of his jaw and whisper a sweet little "love you."
he lays there for a good long while without response, you don't mind because you chose that exact moment to fall asleep. he lays there and he's sure he won't be able to fall asleep now. fuck you for knocking out and leaving him like this, he thinks. he's trying not to give himself false hope, maybe you meant it platonically. he keeps trying and he keeps thinking all night but he's still impossibly giddy.
he was contemplating not telling you anything about last night, but he can't help himself. he's nervous—god, he's so fucking nervous when you wake up while he's getting comfy in your kitchen like it was his, making breakfast. you look groggy and sleepy and hungover, but to him, you still look adorable.
when you're awake enough, munching away at the breakfast he's made, he tells you about last night and his heart slams against his chest when he mentions what you had told him.
though, when he sees how you choke on a piece of your toast, and how flustered you look, like a deer in headlights, his heart beats hard against his ribcage for a completely different reason.
the next time you go out for drinks, it's to celebrate the start of your relationship.
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AAA first request done ! hope you liked this anon <3 if you guys have any request pleassseee lemme know !
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cythena · 4 months
Text
INVITE ONLY
❥ — ꒰ notes ꒱ megumi fushiguro x fem!reader, not really any warnings tbh, smut, college au, outdoor sex, he pulls out
❥ — ꒰ synopsis ꒱ nobara took you to some illegal racing night and you catch the winner’s eye ; 1.5k words
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you didn’t mind hanging out with nobara. she told you about this underground bike racing scene she wanted to go to. it was a friday night, you’d needed something to relax you. so you dressed up. it wasn’t the most but it was certainly enough. you borrowed nobara’s knee high boots to pair with your miniskirt. you threw on a long sleeve too.
“you look so hot, y/n. i’d so take you home tonight,” nobara cheered.
you laughed and grabbed your phone. “maybe you should, cause i’d definitely let you.”
“maki is already outside, come on.”
the setting was not what you expected. it started outside a large warehouse. the huge doors were open on both sides. the designated spectators section was brightly lit with neon purple street lamps. the audience was full of drunk college kids. the asphalt was littered with shotgunned cans.
maki and nobara dragged you to the front. there you could see the line up of bikes. drivers leaned against theirs, all with one or two girls drooling over them. except one, who seemed to arrive just as you did.
he pulled up closest to you and your friends. his hands removed the black helmet from his head. upon removal, he shook his slightly flattened hair to where it stood back up naturally. his long lashes fluttered as he blinked.
he caught your attention as he kicked the kickstand. you were looking at something on nobara’s phone. he swung his leg over to stand up. that’s when a few girls appeared in front of him. his unamused eyes glanced around the group of them.
he crouched down to make some adjustments to his bike. you could see his name “fushiguro” spread across the back of his shoulders.
his bike was so pretty, you thought. it was gorgeous. the onyx material on the outside with shimmering dark blue accents matched his leather outfit. now that you got a good look at him, he was just a pretty.
looking at the timer, only about a minute remained until the race started. fushiguro ignored any questions directed toward him. he focused on sitting himself back on his bike. his head turned to you right before he secured his helmet on. you caught a glimpse of his green eyes before they disappeared under the black screen.
engines revved as the countdown began. at the buzzer and the drag of the checkered flag, in an instant that man was gone.
so you looked over to nobara, confused on what to do now. you couldn’t see the race anymore. so your friend pulled you over to a group of others. so it was just like a party until you could see the winners.
that familiar black and blue bike was the first to cross the finish line. he curved his bike towards the crowd. several others finished but only after he had the time to step off and walk over. walk to where he stopped right in front of you.
he took off his helmet again and tucked it under his arm.
“what’s your name?” he asked.
“y/n.”
“fushiguro.”
“your bike is pretty,” you said trying to avoid any silence. you moved your head to see it over his shoulder.
“wanna ride it?” he didn’t break eye contact. you did when you looked over to maki and nobara. maki nodded and waved her phone.
megumi unzipped his jacket as you stood in front of his bike. he draped the leather over your shoulders now.
“gets cold, ‘n wear this too.” he held his helmet over your head.
“but you-”
he stopped you. “i’ll be fine.” he secured the helmet to your head now before lifting his leg over the seat. he turned his head over his shoulder. you placed a hand on the back seat for balance.
once seated, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around him. he pulled them tighter around his stomach. you felt every dip of his defined muscles underneath his shirt.
he revved his engine and broke the low hum from the engine. his hands twisted the throttle once more. he squeezes your hand briefly. the bike surges forward down the track. wind blew at your face and uncovered skin. it wasn’t painful, just cold.
the road traveled through a forest for a short moment. megumi took a turn off the path. he brought you to a clearing with a view of the tokyo skyline. his engine faded to the quiet hum instead of the loud roar that ripped through the silence before shutting off.
he helped you take off his helmet. his hand fixed your hair disrupted by the pressure. he was the first to get off and walk around.
“so, you always take a girl on a ride after a win?” you prompted.
“don’t know, you’re the first.”
you placed a hand on your chest. he towered over you as he stared at the city. “lucky me then,” you smiled. “so what’s your plan now, fushiguro?”
his thumbs wiped at his lips as he looked at you. a dangerous glint hit his green eyes.
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megumi wasn’t worried about his bike at the moment. he couldn’t focus on anything else except the way your ass jiggled with every slap of his skin to yours. he yanked your tight miniskirt to where it was hidden underneath his jacket.
his jacket with his name.
his palm spread against your cheek, fitting perfectly. his other hand cupped your chin and pulled your head back. your nails scratched against the leather.
“f-fushiguro!”
“megumi. m-my name’s megumi- oh fuck,” he hissed. he pulled your back against his solid chest. your heart rate quickened. your head fell against his shoulder as you looked into his almost feral eyes. “not what you expected, huh? never seen you before. your first time here, dressed so fucking slutty. couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
you moaned in response. he pressed his lips against your neck. your mind drifted to how your friends would respond to the love bites he was obviously leaving. you didn’t care as you reached around and tangled your hand in his hair.
“megumi, i- mhm~”
you sounded so pretty for him. you looked just as gorgeous too. he loved hearing his name fall from your lips as his thumb smeared your lipstick and tears your mascara. he wanted to make you sob for him like this all the time.
“you’re real fucking pretty, love fucking you dumb.” you cried out his name again. he licked the marks he left on your skin. “ha, can’t even respond. that’s fine, just keep squeezing me.”
and you listened well. your cunt clenched around him. “please megumi! i can’t!
he could see your nails scraping the seat, leaving white marks. he loved it. he loved seeing the way he made you and he wanted to keep them there forever.
“your slutty hole gonna cum for me?” he laughed. his hand fondled your tits quickly before going back down to play with your clit. you nodded as much as you could as he pinned you against him by the neck.
you were so close now. you felt megumi’s cock and hands pulling the cord to your release. he continued driving against your sensitive walls. you felt every vein on him deep inside your core.
your nails started to dig in scalp now. “oh megumi! t-thank you! ‘m gonna cum!” megumi pressed a hard and sloppy kiss against your lips. your eyes rolled into the back of your head. your hole tightened around him. you squealed as he pulled away.
he grunted against your skin. you felt so unbelievably tight around him. your hand fell limp and out of his hair. you were close to giving out so he supported your weight — treating you like his own fleshlight.
he pushed against your ass to pull out. he bent you over completely on his bike. megumi groaned at the cold air hitting him. quickly, he worked his own cock until thick strings of cum spurted out onto your skin.
“i’ll take you home,” he said, fixing your skirt. “can i get your number before we go?”
you looked back up at him. “yeah.” he already had his phone out of pocket to give to you.
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you were a little embarrassed from how loud megumi’s bike was. it was early in the morning when you got home. he hopped off and helped you. he walked you to your door without turning off the engine.
you almost forgot about his jacket. you started to slide one arm off but he stopped you. “can i see you again?”
you nodded, “yeah.”
he slid the sleeve back over you. you managed to put in the code to open the door with your shaky hands. “keep it. goodnight y/n.”
nobara wasn’t as calm as maki when the biker dropped you off back at your apartment. especially not when you walked in with your makeup so displaced. she practically jumped you.
her heart stopped beating when she noticed the jacket. “oh my god that’s his jacket! maki! look! he gave her the jacket!”
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— © cythena 2023. do not share on tiktok, plagiarize, repost on other platforms, copy, or translate.
2K notes · View notes
peachypinkygloss · 6 months
Text
places i know — jjk
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i know places - lykke li, les matins - angèle
ᥫ᭡ summary: in which jungkook's heart beats for you, but he prefers to dismiss his feelings and to blame himself for getting hurt.
ᥫ᭡ genre: friends with benefits, university au, angst, smut.
ᥫ᭡ word count: 3.7k
ᥫ᭡ warnings: alcohol consumption, long and messy hair jk 🫶🏻, he's introverted & she's extroverted, opposites attract type of shit, unreciprocated love, unprotected sex, unprotected oral sex, praising, blowjob, clit stimulation.
a.n.: yeah so... i came up with this last minute. begging for feedback again 🙏🏻 because your girl is paranoid and thinks everything she writes is shit 🥹 (to be confirmed or denied, idk) i won't update for a while, pls take care of yourselves, guys. kisses x
The way between his last course of the day — his class situated in block E, literally the farthest part of the university, still not renovated since the creation of the school — and his car is familiar, repetitive.
It doesn't bother Jungkook, though. Not all that much, at least. It's part of his daily life and he prefers things to be consistent, always predictable. He likes having a routine, something he can rely on — something secured, a feeling of certainty.
And the way to his car is all that. Expect for one detail in his life that is almost too unpredictable, even more than the rain. He simply can't tell when it's about to happen because if he were to predict it, he'd have to let down all his little habits.
He'd have to set the notifications of his phone on, remove 'night time' mode in case he ever receives an unexpected text from an unpredictable person. Have to ask questions more often, questions that are direct and that the answers don't leave him overthinking all night, turning sides back and forth in his bed.
Have to stop putting on his headphones while exiting the university building to hear your steps on the wet cement, rushing to him from behind, already grinning to yourself, knowing he doesn't suspect your presence.
A few repeated taps on his back makes him tense his shoulders, and makes him turn his head back to see who's after him. You may be sudden, but he always knows it's you. You're the only person in his life that would message him at 3 a.m., proposing to meet up and then canceling at the last minute to only interpellate him on his way back home.
He's a bit sour about this, but he won't tell you.
It's your silly escapades that fill most of his days and nights, though. It's that little giggle that leaves your lips before saying 'let's go to the movie theatre' without knowing what films are playing, just because it's funnier like that, because it's unexpected. It creates unforgettable memories, develops stronger feelings.
He reaches for his phone in the pocket of his hoodie, pressing pause, slipping his headphones off and letting them hang around his neck. There's a smile on your lips, one he remembers kissing more than once, both drunk and sober. Most of the time drunk.
"You're ready?" A toothy smile, one of the best, the only one he always wants to see, always misses.
Again, nothing has been prepared, but being unplanned is your habit. Maybe a fear of being chained to a routine, something Jungkook is attached too, though it doesn't matter.
There's something about you, about your wild nature that has him obsessed over you. Opposites attract, but he doesn't feel like your opposite, he feels like he's complementary to you. Like a puzzle piece. Like partners.
He continues his way to his car as you follow him to it, stepping backwards to keep facing him, sometimes turning around, feeling the wind passing through your hair.
Jungkook looks ahead, only glancing at you when he feels your insistent gaze on him. He can't ignore you. Not because you take a lot of space, but because he wants to answer you, wants to hear what you have to say and he knows he's going to regret later for not questioning you.
"I didn't know when you were coming," he opts for, choosing something lighter than what he has on his heart, a feeling he's not sure he wants to acknowledge himself; when are you going to stop playing with me?
"Tuh-tuh-tuh." You stop in front of him, forcing him to halt his walk as well. "Don't ask me when," you say, raising your eyebrows and tilting your head to the side. "Ask me why, ask me where."
Jungkook chuckles, the proud lopsided smile on your face amusing him. How easy it is for you to deviate from the conversation, avoid something you don't want to give an answer to. Something you don't want to touch on. Almost too easy-peasy.
He doesn't catch onto it yet again, leaving the lead to you, letting you use your impeccable charm on him.
"Where?" He sighs.
"That's the best part!" You cheer, "Okay, you know that place I talked to you about?"
"Yeah," he confirms, a bit unsure, but memories and words of yours are fast at coming back into his mind. "Your secret spot?"
He cuts his question there because what you said isn't something he really wants to say out loud — wanna show you that place, feels majestic, you'll like it. Wanna kiss you under that big, big tree, sit on your lap, cuddle you, ride your cock.
It was cheeky when you said it, but he was giggling along with you, sparkling eyes looking into each other, vodka rolling on your tongues.
You were beautiful that night in your blue dress, fitting well with the colour of your hair and skin, making your eyes pop out more. And so are you now, wearing a cute top with that long skirt, Doc Martens at your feet.
That night, you were sexy. A wet dream, an erotic fantasy. Today, you're cute and casual, looking like the girlfriend he wished he had.
"Yup," you nod your head, "My secret spot," you repeat, smiling softly.
He doesn't respond with anything so it's silent for a short moment, the breeze making your hair twirl around your head. He tells himself, right now, that the world is yours. It's as if you were controlling everything; the wind, the weather, his heart.
"Come on, Kook," you insist, "I'm gonna tell you where to go."
The moon is shining brightly from where he is. Away from the city, from all the flashing lights and the roaring of cars. It's peacefully quiet. He likes it.
You're also on your back, looking at the night sky and the clouds. Pointing at one star, saying it's someone's puppy. You hope it's resting in peace, he tells you of course, don't worry. You smile, again. He loves it.
You pick out a flower; it's purple, maybe rather violet. A really soft violet.
You turn on your side, leaning on your elbow, staring at Jungkook — a smirk tugging at your lips. You extend your arm to wipe some of his hair away from his face, tucking the stem of the flower behind his ear. He doesn't stop you and closes his eyes as your fingers brush over his skin.
You replace his bangs, Jungkook's eyelids fluttering as you do so and for the first time, very first time, he's the one who destabilizes you.
"You're beautiful," he whispers, looking at you, noticing how your eyes instantly glance up at him when the compliment slips past his lips. Maybe it's the way you slightly raise your eyebrows, no sight of a smile on your face, rather a look of surprise, a look of 'nobody's words make my stomach twist as much as yours do'.
For you, it's the way that you know he means it, really thought about it before, told himself hundreds of times in his head. Fuck, this girl's beauty is unbelievable.
The grass underneath you is starting to feel cold. The sun is gone and you cruelly miss its light on your skin, heating you up as well as Jungkook's arms around you do, too.
"You, too," you say back. No 'thank you', but he'll go with that. He guesses it felt too intimate and he understands that. Well, he tries to, at least.
He brings a hand up to the back of your neck, the tip of his fingers feel cold against your skin, a shiver running up your spine and making the hair on your arms stand up. He pulls you down and presses his lips down on yours.
It's not hot, it's not messy or sloppy. It's warm, passionate and coordinated. God, he's so cheesy.
He's fucking in love.
You break the kiss, grinning when he looks at you with wide, sparkling eyes. You lift up the right sleeve of his hoodie over his forearm, revealing the couple of tattoos decorating his skin, a bit dispersed and distanced from each other. Jungkook's told you about his desire of filling up his sleeve and colouring some of his tattoos as well.
You point to an empty spot, raising your gaze up to him while saying, "I see a lily there. A tiger lily."
He looks down to his arm, then up to you. "Do you?" He questions.
"Yes," you bob your head, whispering softly. "Bright and orange," you add on, tracing the form of the flower on his arm. He watches your finger brush his skin delicately with a lot of care. "With the petals open."
"It'd be really pretty," he approves, his words making you smile.
You then take his hand in yours and bring his arm up, passing it around your shoulders. He says nothing when you lay your face down on his chest. He only tilts his head downward, smiling back at you.
Your breathing is calm and regular, sometimes letting out a heavier exhale. You trust him, he realizes, and it makes his heart swell, hurts him a little because this isn't enough of a reason.
Enough of a reason to acknowledge his feelings — acknowledge how fucking boring his life is without you and how he wants to spend each moment with you.
But he can't ask that from you, can't demand you to reciprocate his feelings. So he only hopes and wishes, hurting when he's not around you. Goes back to his routine that he so wants to give up on just to be with you, a wild soul who dreams of liberty.
"You didn't tell me why."
You giggle, not because you find it funny, but because you're happy he remembered and cares enough to ask you. Of course he cares, it's you.
"Why I brought you here?" You say while rising up from his chest, connecting your eyes to his.
"Yeah," he confirms with a short nod of his head.
"You're the only one I told about," you answer, "And I don't think there's anybody else I want to share this moment with," you tell him in a soft tone, one that you solely use to say the truth. "I just knew you'd like this place as much as I do, and I want you to come here whenever you feel like it. It's our spot."
'What's mine is yours'.
It can be platonic, it can be friendly, but fuck, there's nothing platonic in the way that you look at him with stars in your eyes, wanting to give him to the world just because it'd feel like the right thing.
You seem so serene while telling him this, and Jungkook can't ignore the 'what if's' that are forming in his head. What if we come here daily until the snow comes and covers the grass? What if we carve our initials on that tree?
What if this secret means more to him than it means to you?
And then it hurts again.
He loves you.
Loves you in a way nobody else ever will because what he has, what he feels, is unique. Everybody's feelings are different, that's why you'll never find someone like Jungkook, that's why if you want him, you need to claim him.
But you probably never will. It's not your kind, not something you're willing to do. 'Don't want to sacrifice what we have', you once said. 'Girlfriend, boyfriend — what does it mean?' you responded when Jungkook jokingly called you "the perfect girlfriend" with too much alcohol in his blood.
Fucking ruined the mood. Why so fucking mean... when he knows you, knows the best parts of you that are down to earth, lovely and sweet, so many qualities in one single person.
But you're entitled to your stupid values.
And he continues to love you as he asks where to go now and you answer all too pouty that you want to go home, his home.
You insist on having vodka, knowing where he hides it, the top cabinet where you can't reach. Have to beg him with puppy eyes to let you have a glass. A tiny glass.
He tells you that you sure as hell gonna have a tiny one. You smile, thanking him. He drinks with you because there's no way he's letting you break his heart absolutely sober.
He loves you maybe more — well aware that he's going to regret it — when your sloppy tongues meet in a heated kiss, impatient hands slipping under each other's clothes.
He grabs a tit, earning a moan, you take a fist full of hair, eliciting a groan. The way to his bedroom feels far, far away, but he knows you're going to reach it, you have to.
Your body is one of the few things Jungkook's familiar with. He knows the way to your pussy, knows where to hit and touch. Knows also the way to your heart, just there in your rib cage, under your sternum.
He fucking knows, but you won't let him and so he keeps his hands away from that part of your body.
The sheets are just an excuse for being his for the night.
Just for the night, leaving before the sun rises.
Whatever.
He moans as he lets you engulf his cock in your mouth, flat on your stomach between his thighs, one leg bent at the knee. He knows to be patient, not push you to do something you don't want to, but it's hard, really hard when your mouth feels like literal heaven.
His head keeps rolling back on his shoulders, hitting the headboard behind him, raising it back up to watch your lips slide smoothly over his length. His fists clench on either side of his body, mouth ajar to let out heavy breaths that you can hear from where you are.
There are times he doesn't really hold himself back, times where the bed isn't just an excuse anymore, but tonight, he feels a bit restricted. He doesn't quite know why, even though the answer's right in front of him. But Jungkook prefers hiding his head in the sand.
"Ah, fuck," he says breathlessly already, frowning as he concentrates on the feeling of your tongue on his cock, sucking him like you fucking mean it. "Baby..."
Another moan, elongated and whiney, a clear indication that you have an impact on him. You affect him — oh, you do so much.
Hesitantly, he grips your hair, not too tight, not pulling, just clenching his fist around it. It's enough to show you that he isn't indifferent to your touch. You know that, but you tend to forget it, tend to go see someone different, searching for something you'll never find in anyone else than Jungkook.
He whimpers as your nose touches his pubic hair, the tip of his cock reaching the back of your throat. He fucking shakes, fucking whines while you swallow around him, sucking the soul out of him.
You're greedy; you take everything, you don't share. Ask for more, come back over and over again. But you take, you don't give. Don't even pay back.
Do you realize it? Would be debatable. Jungkook's heart isn't strong enough to have that conversation, though.
You moan around his cock, a response to his little whines, happy you can procure him this kind of pleasure. You bob your head over his length, making a mess, saliva spilling at the corners of your mouth.
You cup his balls and Jungkook reacts instantly. "Oh, yeah- yeah, like that," he approves, hooded eyes staring at the way his member appears and disappears between your lips as you bounce your head up and down.
If he doesn't stop you, he'll cum very soon, and that's not something that he wants. Not in your mouth, not anywhere. He knows the moment he cums is the moment you also leave.
So there's some tenderness in his voice when he instructs you to come lay beside him, your back to his chest. He thinks this is his favourite position, at least with you. Fucking you is the only way he can get that close to you. He can forget about cuddles, but you'll let him fuck you in spoon because sure, it's a great position. Warm and sensual.
"You feel so good- oh, god," he shakily says under his breath, his lips beside your ear. He's completely nestled inside you, his soft breath caressing your neck — a kiss is given to your shoulder, another to your jaw.
When he starts to move, it's slow and steady, but his moans tells you how it takes a lot out of him to not move faster, not ruin your pussy, not fuck you totally dumb on his bed the way he always does so good when he has way too much alcohol in his system.
He lifts up your thigh, making a bit more space for him, his other hand sneaking between your legs to reach your throbbing clit. His dark bangs fall into his eyes, some strands sticking to his sweaty forehead.
You whine when his middle finger finds your bud of nerves, drawing atrociously slow circles on it, adding just the right pressure to make you want more, beg for more.
"Do you feel me, baby? Feel my cock in your tight little pussy?" He hums in your ear, turning you crazy from the husky tone of his voice. You flutter your eyes as you turn your head, glancing at Jungkook's face, his own eyes not knowing where to look — your lonely lips, your perky nipples, his hard dick stretching out your hole.
"Yeah, feel you so deep in me, Kook," you reply back, and fuck do you really feel him.
It's like your first time, still feeling him days after your encounter. He's big, that's a fact, but he knows how to use it, and you got to experience it. You're lucky you're the only girl he wants to be inside of.
He groans when you clench and unclench around him, his cock completely covered in your wetness, sliding in you so smoothly, nothing restraining him at all — apart from his own intrusive thoughts.
He shifts his hand higher on your thigh, parting your legs wider from each other, now beginning to rock his hips against your ass. His head taps over your sweet spot repeatedly and you let him know by moaning out loud, babbling littles 'right here, Kook. Fuck, right here'.
You reach behind you to pass your fingers through Jungkook's soft black hair, his pink lips smooching the side of your throat, cherishing your skin in warm kisses. You place your other hand on top of his that is operating between your legs, doing quick circle motions over your puffy clit.
He drives his engorged cock in your wet pussy back and forth, totally out of breath, but refusing to stop, at least not until he has you spasming around his girth. You arch your back, frowning your brows as you feel the knot at the pit of your stomach tighten.
"Shit, you close, baby? I feel you sucking me in like crazy," he chuckles, a bit too lost in his own lust, loving how he feels so connected to you right now. You seriously can't be closer to each other than that.
You nod, and he says that he is, too. You whimper, almost feeling him in your guts, cock entering and exiting your quivering hole at a rapid pace that rips your breath out of your lungs.
"Gonna make you feel good," he promises. "Cum around me, sweetheart. Fucking cream my cock," Jungkook encourages and it doesn't take you much more to reach your high, thigh shaking in his hold.
And when it hits you, it hits you hard. You cry out his name, a sound he never wants to forget, limbs shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Your velvety walls close around him tightly just the way he loves it, just the way it makes him come closer to the edge as well.
His hips jerk up, his skin slapping against your ass. "Ah, fuck, yeah," he rasps out, wetting his dried lips, "Good job, shit... Gonna cum," he praises and warns you at the same time, your orgasm being the cause of his own.
Jungkook steadies his hips and he fills you up, emptying himself inside your cunt. He shoots his hot cum in you in long, thick ropes, cock twitching. You moan with him, liking the familiar sensation of his release painting your walls white.
"Christ," he chokes out, laying his damp forehead on your shoulders, his chest heaving up and down rapidly.
When he pulls out, you immediately turn around to face him. You don't say much, just the usual to not make it awkward. He appreciates it, won't admit he wants to chat till 3 a.m., though.
The next morning is somewhat gentle, but it has a bitter taste. Your side of the bed is empty, the only remaining trace of your body being your perfume. And the soiled sheets underneath him.
He would have liked that all of this was only a dream, but no, it was yesterday. His eyes are puffy from the night of sleep he had, or maybe from tears.
He wonders where you are, when exactly you left. He misses the touch of your hands on his back, your fingers passing through his hair.
Those are the kind of mornings he hates. The awful and aching truth eventually coming back to him because he forgot the night before when he was with you.
And then the cycle repeats.
He goes back to class, puts his headphones back on, and turns on night mode. Clears his mind off of you — well, he tries to. He goes back to the places he knows, avoiding you religiously until he can't say no anymore.
.
.
.
2K notes · View notes
xhoneygirlxx · 8 months
Text
WANTED U
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Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader
summary: when your date is ruined by your best friend, can you stay mad at him when he reveals a secret you've been dying to know?
warnings: fluff, slight angst, Eddie is deep in his feels, two idiots in love. Minors DNI 18+ ONLY! mentions of drinking, Eddie gets drunk. swearing. p in v, creampie (wrap it up kiddos), fingering, body worship and praise. Reader's race/ethnicity is not mentioned! she/her pronouns used. Both Eddie and Reader are in their twenties. Also not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing!
*if I miss anything please let me know!
a/n: Hi honey bunnies! I just want to thank @ali-r3n for this really cute idea! I'm so sorry it took me forever to post and I'm sorry about the shitty writing! Smut is not my strong suit and I've been plagued with the horrible writers block, so I hope this is okay! I hope you like this and thank you for being so wonderful and patient <3
All you wanted to do was to go on one date. One singular date. For the first time since your high school prom, you were going out with someone who was interested in you. A tinder match that led to multiple conversations, that led to having drinks, to hopefully going back to his place for a well needed time in the sheets. 
That was the plan for the night. Then your phone started to blow up with phone calls and texts, an apparent SOS that couldn’t wait. So you had to cancel, mid-date, telling your date that there was a family emergency. You knew walking out of there that Jordan wouldn’t text you back or ever take you up on the second date offer. 
It wasn’t like you were heartbroken over it, however you were a little bummed. The whole reason you even got on the dating app was because you were trying to get over your best friend. Eddie Munson stole your heart at the age of fifteen and had yet to give it back. It was a sick cycle that you have been going through for nine years. 
You were the lovesick best friend, who just couldn’t take the hint, following him around like a lost dog. Eddie had you wrapped around his finger and you didn’t care. Canceling plans just because he wanted to see you, doing whatever he asked just because, and never dating with the hopes of him finally falling for you. 
Those dreams were fruitless however, because Eddie didn’t see you as anything more than a friend. All the pining and unrequited love was killing you, a slow painful death that would put medieval torture devices to shame. It’s not like you could blame the brown haired boy, it’s not like you can pick who you fall for, but that didn’t stop you from wishing it would happen. 
So therefore you took the giant leap and put yourself out there, trying to ease the ache of your heart. In the end you ended up in Eddie’s apartment, helping him in his drunken state, get to bed. The emergency that Jeff blew your phone up for, was this. A night out with the guys turned into Eddie getting belligerent and refusing to leave until you came and got him. 
The whole car ride there you were disappointed in yourself, the whole reason for your dumb date was to stop yourself from running to the rescue every time he called. You were annoyed and heavily frustrated with the outcome of your night. It almost felt like the universe was against you, whatever god above watching you and laughing every single time you failed to move on. 
As much as you wanted to hate the grown man sitting in front of you, you simply couldn’t. His whiskey colored eyes round and glossy, nose and cheeks rosy with the heat of alcohol coursing through him, and his hair messy from the cold night wind. He was so pretty and it was hard trying to stay mad at him, especially when he had a deep dimpled smile adorning his face. 
“Alright Eds, I need you to change out of your clothes.” You say sweetly, the pile of his pajama’s hanging in your hands. 
Following your instructions, he tries to lift his shirt over his head, only for it to get caught on his head. “Sweets, I need help.” He sounds like a helpless child trying to tie his shoes, and you have to stifle a laugh. 
Placing the change of clothes next to him on the bed, you swiftly pull the stuck fabric off of him. When his head is released, he shakes his hair out of his face so he can see you. A childlike wonder flits in his eyes as he looks at you, admiring the way you’re being so gentle. 
A small thank you is whispered, you hum in response as you pull the new shirt on him. His eyes close as you gently tug his arms through the hole, soaking up the amount of attention you give to him. It feels like you’re changing a newborn, so docile and content with the way you handle him. 
“Can you take your pants off yourself or do you need me to help?” Your voice breaks his sleepy demeanor, droopy eyes looking up at you. 
“You gonna buy me dinner first?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he playfully smirks at you. 
“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan, yet your heart beat picks up at his innuendo. 
Surprisingly, he’s able to take his bottoms off and replace them with the pair you picked out for him. Pulling the jewelry off his wrist and fingers, you place them hastily on his bedside table. His eyes follow your every move, like a curious kitty watching their owner. Pulling back the covers on his bed, you gently lay him down and prop his head up with pillows. 
“So you have your bottle of water right here,” You show him by picking it up off the table where it’s sat, “And the bottle of Tylenol is right next to it. Now if at any moment you feel like you have to throw up, the garbage can is right next to you on the floor. Okay?” 
Humming to you in understanding, he closes his eyes once more. When you think he’s about to pass out, you turn on your heel to grab clothes for yourself. Not getting far, his big hand wraps around your wrist gently, bringing your attention back to him. This time his expression isn’t as content or happy. No, his eyes are glassy with unshed tears and his bottom lip jets out in a pout. 
“Please don’t leave.” It’s a whispered plea, innocent and childlike. 
“I’m not leaving Eds, just grabbin’ some clothes to change into.” Even with your assuring smile, he’s still frowning at you. 
“Please just, don’t leave.” Tugging your arm slightly, he brings you closer to the bed. 
“Eddie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You’re now concerned with the state of your best friend and why he felt the need to beg you to stay. 
“Promise? What about Jacob?”
“Eddie, what are you talking about?” Although he closes his eyes again, you still press for answers. 
“I don’t wanna lose you t’some douche. You needa be with me, sweets cause I love you s’much. Don’t wanna lose you to him.” It’s all a slurred mess, his words mumbling together as they fall out of his mouth. 
“If you mean Jordan, no I’m not going to leave you for him” You giggle softly, “I left my date with him to come get you. Plus his stories about kayaking were starting to get boring.” You try to lighten the mood, but it only makes his lip wobble more. 
“I shoulda made a move, I wanted to b-but I-I was scared. Gareth told me I lost my chance with you and he-he was right.” A few stray tears fall down his cheek and you lift a hand to wipe them away. 
The same brown eyes you fell in love with, all those years ago, stare up at you. The heart that’s bleed for him for nine years is starting to heal, the words you so desperately wanted to hear are finally coming to light. 
With your own tears glistening in your eyes, you look down at him like you always do. With the biggest heart in your eyes and brightest smile on your face. “You should stop listening to Gareth, Eds. I think you still have a shot, but we’ll talk about this later. When you’re not drunk.” 
Bobbing his head the best he can, he squeezes your hand once before retracting it. With his eyes closed and steady breaths leave his parted lips, you get changed and turn off the lights. Maybe the universe wasn’t against you, maybe it was on your side the whole time and just had a funny way of showing it. 
__
The bright sun pouring through the window, wakes you up. The sight before you is one you’ve seen before. The side profile of your best friend’s face, wild hair sprawled over the pillow that lays beneath him. You take this moment in to study his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyelashes kiss the tops of his cheeks, and how kissable his lips look. 
Not much later is he stirring, stretching his limbs out after his wild night out. Cracking one of his eyes open, he winces slightly before running his hands down his face. Blinking once or twice, he finally lets himself wake up, staring straight at the ceiling. You wonder if he remembers what he said or if you should bring it up. Instead you choose to play it cool, or at least try to. 
“Good morning drunky! How’d you sleep?” Reaching a finger out, you poke his side.
“Drunky,” he snorts,” I actually slept well, thanks to my wonderful nurse.” He takes a peak over at you, a smug smile already pushing his cheeks up high. 
You try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy when you hear his voice, thick and husky with sleep. The giddy feeling rushing through you is written all over your face, covered up by a bad attempt of biting back a smile. 
“Well, I’m glad you don’t feel so shitty.” You say, stretching your body to distract yourself from his burning gaze. 
“What time is it anyway?” His question comes out in a yawn, loud and exaggerated. Propping up on your elbow, you lean over him to get a look at your alarm clock. 
“A little past ten.” Eddie huffs, muttering something about it being far too early. “I know it’s too early for you but that just means we can go to Jerry’s and get waffles to soak up whatever's left in your system.” You coo at him mockingly, fake pouting as you look at him. 
“Ya know, I don’t enjoy your fake pity.” Eddie rolls his eyes at you, a frown pulling at the corner of his lips.
“Oh I’m sorry, Eds. Want some ketchup with those cries?” Eddie’s frown deepens like a bratty child, and you eat up every second of it. “Oh, I know! I’ll call a wambulance.” You throw your head back, laughing at your own joke. 
With your attention off of him, he sees the perfect opportunity to laugh. At lightning speed, he grips your hands, flipping you over on your back. With the weight of his thighs bracketing you and his hand gripping your wrists together, you’re defenseless. 
With a wild glint in his eyes, Eddie wastes no time in attacking you with a finger to your side. Relentlessly, Eddie tickles you to the point there are tears in your eyes from how hard you're laughing, and your pleas for him to stop are swallowed by the oxygen that’s being stolen from your lungs. 
“It’s not so funny when it’s your turn, huh?” Smirking down at you, his attack doesn’t relent. 
Thrashing around the best you can, you try everything to get him off but with the way his thighs squeeze your legs together makes it hard to do so. 
“Okay, Okay! I’m sorry, Eddie! Please!” The last word comes out as the softest moan, so soft that you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. However, Eddie was and his fingers stopped digging into your sides immediately. 
The sound of your heavy breathing is the only thing to be heard. Eddie stares down at you, eyes unblinking and cheeks dusted pink. The usually brown eyes are now dark, the dark pupil over taking the iris. You stare right back at him, chest rising and falling dramatically and lips parted slightly letting the air from your lungs flow out easily. 
It feels like the world has stopped, time frozen still for eternity. The mid-morning light painting the two of you in a portrait, cementing the moment forever. Two heart beats synching up together, beating against the bones of your rib cages. 
“Fuck it.”
Eddie rushes in to smash his lips against yours. Years of waiting and wondering if this moment would ever happen, now finally laying to rest. The taste of him has been the missing part of your life this whole time and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. 
It’s sweet and slow, his tongue slipping inside your mouth softly. Morning breath be damned, the two of you make out for what seems like hours on end. Parting from each other for much needed air, a small giggle leaves your mouth. 
“What?” Eddie smiles, his face as dopey and gooey as you feel on the inside. 
“I just wanted this for so long.” You admit, making his smile pull wider. 
Leaning back down to you, he peppers kisses all over your face. The snickering that’s leaving your mouth is slowly turned into a whimper when his lips find their way to your neck. A gasp pulls from your chest the minute he finds that spot, eliciting him to suck on it. Hissing when it becomes too much, Eddie is quick to soothe the sting with his tongue. 
Pulling his face away from the crevice of your neck, his eyes find yours as his hand glides to find the hem of your shirt. Tugging on it and raising an eyebrow in question, you nod overenthusiastically. 
Ripping the oversized shirt over your face, he takes his time to memorize all the details of your skin. The heat of his stare becomes a bit too much, worry overtaking your brain causing you to bite down on your lip. 
“I just want you to know that I’ve waited since freshman year to see these bad boys.” Attention still drawn on your bare chest. 
“Well, do they live up to the hype?” You question, tone not as confident as you think. 
Eddie’s head whips up to you, mouth agape and you swear you can see drool pooling from his lips. “Sweets, you have no idea.” 
Diving in, he kisses the doughy flesh of your breasts, going back and forth between the two. Like a magnet to a fridge, his lips find the hardened bud and latches on. Switching between sucking and flicking his tongue, you squirm underneath him trying to find some sort of friction for the ache in between your legs. 
“You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thoughts of this.” Eddie mutters as he moves his attention to the opposite nipple. 
Between his admission and the feeling of his warm mouth on your sensitive skin, you moan loudly. The feeling of more wetness pool in your panties alerts you, the overwhelming feeling of need buzzing through you. A small whine comes from you and it catches Eddie’s attention. 
Pulling away from your breast and peering up at you, he cocks his head to the side. “What’s wrong, baby? Want some cheese for that whine?” 
When his canine teeth shine through his devilish smirk, you whimper. You hate that he’s using your game from earlier against you, teasing you like he doesn’t know what you want. 
“What is it, sweets? Tell me what you want.” Fake pity drips from his question and it only eggs you on more. 
Eddie’s got you so worked up that you can’t even speak. Lifting your hips to show him what you need, you frown harder when he laughs at you. 
“Oh, princess,” He coos, running his thumb along your lower lip, “Be the good girl I know you are, and ask. Can you do that f’me?” Nodding your head, he encourages you with an assuring smile. 
“C-can you touch me, please?” Your voice sounds so small and you’d honestly cringe if it weren’t for the fact that you know you’re dripping out of the fabric of your panties onto his bed. 
Sighing heavily, Eddie gives your bottom lip a small tug with his thumb, letting the bottom row of your teeth show before it bounces back up into place. 
“I would tease you more but you asked so nicely.” Shuffling down your body, he loops his fingers through the sides and guides the thin material down your legs. 
Pushing his way through your thighs, Eddie runs the tip of his middle finger up the slit of your sex. His finger grazes lightly over your bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt from the feeling. 
“You’re really fucking wet.” Eddie says breathlessly as he parts your glistening lips apart with his fingertips. 
Not waiting for your response, Eddie circles his finger around your entrance before plunging it in slowly. The stretch from his finger makes you arch slightly, a muffled moan falling from your mouth. Using the pad of his thumb, he swirls your clit in alternating circles and figure eights. 
“More, Eds. Fuck, please!” You beg and who is Eddie to deny you. Pushing another finger inside, he curls them just right and starts going faster. 
“Fuck you’re so greedy, baby. Isn’t that right, you’re s’greedy for me, huh?” With his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks a pretty burgundy shade, he looks just as fucked out as you. 
Writhing underneath him, you babble nonsense as his fingers hit that spot you always struggle to. “Yes! M’so greedy - Shit!” 
“You gonna let me taste you? Gonna let me eat this pretty cunt?” You don’t even get a chance to answer, your body already doing it for you by clenching around his fingers. “Oh she likes that, huh? You like imagining me in between these pretty thighs, baby?” 
“Think ‘bout it all the time.” You moan, hips rocking against his hand as you try to chase your high. 
“Yeah, sweets? Think about me when you play with this pretty pussy?” 
That’s all it takes for you to come undone, gushing around his fingers with a muted scream. Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolled into the back of your head, as the feeling of your orgasm washes over you. 
Eddie helps you ride through it, continuing his motions until your tense muscles relax into a jelly like state. When you come back down from your high, you whimper at the loss of his fingers. Moving your eyes to him, you watch as he sticks his middle and forefinger in his mouth, moaning when the taste of you hits his taste buds. 
“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to eat you out.” Eddie grins at you and you roll your eyes playfully back at him. 
“That sounds absolutely wonderful, but” You begin to say and his face drops with the fear of rejection, “I’m going to need you to fuck me in the next thirty seconds.” You smirk and his jaw drops. 
After fifteen seconds of pure shock, Eddie shakes his head and tries to play it cool. 
“Yeah totally, let me just-” His sentence is cut off when he begins to struggle out of his own clothes. 
Once he’s stark naked and hovering over you, you laugh giddily up at him. Putting his forehead to you, he studies your eyes for any sort of regret or doubt. 
“Eds, I promise you I want this.” You reassure him, making sure to prove the point with a loving kiss.
With his confidence boosted, Eddie snakes his hand down to guide himself into you. When the tip breaches your entrance, the both of you gasp at the feeling.
Pushing in slowly, he brings his lips back to yours, swallowing your moans. Once he's all the way in, Eddie gives you a minute to adjust before he starts moving.
Nodding your head to let him know you're good, he pulls almost all the way out before ramming back into you, knocking the wind from your lungs.
"Fuuck, sweets. S'fuckin' tight." His voice trembles as he pounds into you.
"You're so big, I can feel you s'deep." You slur, drunk on the way his cock stretches you, hitting that sweet spot with every drag of his hips.
Eddie resituates himself, pushing your knees up to your chest, before bringing his chest back down to yours. This way you can feel him even deeper, which you didn't even think was possible.
You're on fire, belly burning bright with fire. Eddie's everywhere, he's all you can see, hear, smell, touch, think, he's invaded every single one of your senses and you can't get enough.
His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes closed with the pure bliss of being inside of you. It's so intimate yet so dirty and it's driving you insane.
Opening his eyes, he looks down at you like you've hung the stars that shine in the sky.
"I wanted this for so long, sweets. I wanted you, so Fuck-" He hangs his head, speeding up the movements of his hips. A roaring sob comes out of your mouth, the fire in you burning hotter with every drag of his thick cock.
"I'm so in love with you, sweets. Been yours since I was sixteen." Finally he confesses, letting the sacred secret out, only this time he's drunk off of you.
"I love you too! Fuck-I love you so fucking much."
"Tell me you're mine. Please, tell me." He begs and you comply, growing closer and closer to the edge.
"M'yours, been yours since I was fifteen." You confess and it feels like the weight of the world has lifted off of you.
With one last thrust, you come undone with a loud cry. Eddie doesn't let up his movements, now only focusing on his own release.
The way his hips stutter, you know that he won't last too much longer.
"I want you to cum in me, Eds. I wanna feel s'bad." You coax and that's all it takes for the metalhead to come with a stuttering grunt.
Lazily thrusting into you, he finally stops when he becomes overstimulated. The room is once again calm, the now afternoon sun blinds you as it seeps into the room. Heavy breathing and content hums fill the room, while the scent of sex lingers in the air.
Shyly removing himself from your chest, Eddie looks at you sheepishly. "Now what?"
If you didn't know Eddie you'd probably think he's being rude, but you know that he really is just overthinking everything that just happened. In his mind he thinks you're probably regretting everything, even though you told him you felt the same way.
Using your hand to pull some of the hair that sticks to his cheeks away, you smile affectionately at him.
"Well, I was thinking we could still go to Jerry's for breakfast," Eddie still looks at you like he's waiting for the ball to drop, "Then I thought you could keep your promise and eat your girlfriend out. That is, if you're not too full."
"Really?" He looks like a puppy who just heard its favorite word, excited with it's tail wagging back and forth.
Snickering up at him, you nod your head rapidly. Pulling out of you quickly, Eddie runs out of the room and you can hear the chaos of clattering from behind the door.
"Eddie, what are you doing?" More giggles fall from your lips as he races back in with a wet wash rag in his hand.
"Gotta clean you up before we go out to eat, baby. That way I can recreate our masterpiece later." He says wiggling his eyebrows.
Yeah this was the dork you fell in love with and who you were going to love for the rest of your life.
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Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry it's not the best!
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sunshine-and-moonshine · 11 months
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Cod Men with Drunk!Reader
Requested: Yes [Can I request cod men with fem reader who is drunk with friends and when he goes to pick her up, she’s like refusing and saying she has a bf and starts blabbering about how much she loves him and she doesn’t even recognise him 😭]
Warnings: Reader is actually mostly GN cause I couldn’t find any way to casually mention them being fem, there is one Königin (german word for Queen) mention though, Drunk people behavior, Violence, Cops get called, Reader gets lots of kisses but nothing more than that
Ghost
Ghost is more than a little amused when you squirm in his hold as he picks you up, vehemently fighting him with your limbs what were weak from your drunk state, blabbering on and on about how you already have a boyfriend that you love with all your heart. It warms the empty black pit where his heart once resides, making the cracked edges of his soul pulse with life. Even like this, you still wanted him? Still didn’t want anyone but him? It didn’t even matter that you were so inebriated that you didn’t recognize him, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Your wide eyed expression, your mouth hanging open, made him chuckle.
And he promptly had to dodge your open hand trying to slap at him as you cried about how your boyfriend was gonna beat him up for that.
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Soap
Soap can’t help but laugh at you as he slings you over his shoulder, adoring the squeak that you let out when he does so, his hand smacking your ass rather harshly, telling you that he’ll just have to fight your boyfriend then. He asks if your boyfriend is stronger than him, more handsome, braver, as he drags you to the car, forcefully buckling you into the backseat, his grin only widening when you say that he is. He’s certain he’s never been more in love than in this moment, nuzzling his nose to yours affectionately before putting on the child locks to the back doors and taking you home. (He was a little less amused when he got pulled over by the police on the way home because you somehow found a pen and some paper in the backseat and used it to ask a nearby driver to call the cops)
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König
König finds it quite endearing but it’s also a bit nerve wracking, worried that people around you will get the wrong intention as he tries to quietly escort you to the car as you insist that you have a boyfriend that you already love, trying to sneak past him back into the bar. The words warm his heart but people are starting to look at him suspiciously so he shushes you softly.
“Königin, please. You’re making a scene.” He tells you softly, his big hands cupping your face as you stare at him with confusion before loudly demanding to know why he knows the nickname he always calls you. König sighs, knowing this was going to be a long trip home.
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Alejandro
Alejandro just laughs, pulling you into his lap right there at the bar, pressing kisses all over your face as he remarks on how lucky your boyfriend is to have such a beautiful and loyal partner. Your flustered and defiant look only amuses him more and he presses extra kisses to your cheeks before nibbling at your ears, standing up with you in his arms. “You’re really adorable, Amor!” He tells you, carrying your writhing body all the way to the car, buckling you in securely, kissing your lips softly before getting secured himself. Thankfully you fell asleep on the way home so he didn’t have to drag you kicking and screaming into the house.
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Krueger
Krueger is a mix between exhausted and amused as you try to fight him at the bar, crying about how you can’t go home with him because you have a boyfriend already and you love him. It’s cute but people are starting to look distressed and he even thinks he sees some people on the phone starting to call the police, his gruff and blank face does the situation no favors. No amount of reassurances seem to quell you so eventually he just tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and marches to the door. One guy actually tries to block the door, thinking you were in danger, and Krueger tries to get around him but the man is insistent and the both of them are getting more agitated as time passes so he eventually just clocks the man in the face, knocking him out cold before dragging you home.
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Keegan
“That so?” Keegan hums when you try to push him away while claiming that you already have a boyfriend, a smirk on his face as he leans into your face, snickering at how your nose scrunches up so cutely. “I think I could take him in a fight.” He says, only growing more giddy with how you vehemently deny it, telling him how your boyfriend could kick his ass sooooo easily. He’s delighted by your loyalty even while in such a state and he chuckles, nipping your nose and pulling you into his arms, nuzzling the top of your head as you bang your fists against his chest and shoulders. “C’mon, Doll. It’s time to go home. And in the morning we can talk more about this boyfriend of yours.”
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My Everyday
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Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes was aggressive, annoying, and—worst of all—a hockey player. Not your type. At all. But, unfortunately, your roommate. 
Word count: 5.5k
Warnings: Minor injury, idiots in love <3, some angst, pining
a/n: My first fic in a century!! Thank you so much for reading if you’re still here. Depending on how this does I hope I’ll have motivation to write more! College athlete Bucky never fails to get me inspired :)
Masterlist
~~
“What’s this punks name again?” 
The breath you let out was long and excruciating. “I am not repeating myself.” 
“C’mon, y/n,” Bucky whined, knocking his head back on the couch. He watched you bustle around the kitchen from his inverted vantage point. “How the hell am I supposed to swoop in and save the day if I don’t even know the kid’s name?” 
“Okay, well, first of all—” the fridge door clicked shut with a swift motion of your hips “—he’s not a ‘kid’. I’m pretty sure he’s a few months older than you.” 
“Semantics.” 
“And second of all,” you stressed, pointing a butter knife in his direction. “There will be no ‘swooping in’. I’m going to have a nice date and you are going to go hang out with your puck rabbits or whatever they're called. There will be no thinking about me and no swooping in my vicinity.” 
Bucky rolled his eyes, kicking up from the couch and rounding the kitchen counter to pick at your sandwich. You knocked his hand away several times, but you both knew it was futile. In the months you’d been living with the hockey player—who was far too big for the small, shoebox of an apartment you leased—you’d learned that food was non-negotiable for Bucky Barnes. 
There were many other things you’d learned about him as well. He sang in the shower, but only when he thought you weren’t home. He had an annoying penchant for using your $30 lotion—again, when he thought you weren’t home. And he loved to throw his massive, smelly gear just about anywhere it would land right when he got home from every practice. 
He didn’t really care if you were home for that last one. 
Bucky was the last person you thought you would be rooming with when you posted that ad last summer. A small, quaint room previously occupied by your now engaged (and traitorous) best friend, you assumed someone like-minded to yourself would have taken you up on your offer. The price point wasn’t egregious and the building was relatively close to campus. 
But weeks ticked by, and you started getting desperate. Your landlord wasn’t a nice lady, something you were positive she took pride in, and she decided that a rent increase was the perfect way to ring in the new school year. You were on the verge of destitution, and as it so happened, the only other person as desperate as you was the starting center for your college’s hockey team. 
You hardly got along. It had taken weeks for your eye to stop twitching every time he tumbled through the front door at three in the morning, and even longer for you not to feel an infuriating aggravation at his random, nighttime smoothies. You supposed he probably felt the same about your cleanliness rules and your incessant reminders about trash days. Because Bucky was in charge of bringing the trash down those long, apartment steps. Not you. 
But you’d be lying if you said things hadn’t gotten easier as of late. Conversation flowed more smoothly, things that made you seethe before were only mildly annoying, and Bucky was being… considerate? You weren’t quite sure what to call the random cups of coffee he brought home on occasion. Or his sudden urge to warm up your car when he had a morning class before yours. 
There was also the case of that party last weekend. A frat party with far too many drunk men and not enough common sense, you had had the urge to leave the second you got there. But Wanda had dragged you along for the sole purpose of driving her home after she got hammered, so you were essentially stuck. 
It was fine at first. Hot and crowded and loud, but fine. You kept a general eye on Wanda and scrolled aimlessly on your phone in the armchair you claimed. And then it wasn’t fine, because a man twice your size was encroaching on your space and unrelenting. 
“What kinda girl comes to a party and doesn’t even wanna talk to anyone?” 
“You want to come up to my room and watch a movie or something?” 
“Hey, I’m talking to you, bitch.” 
You weren’t even aware that Bucky had been at that party. It wasn’t surprising—the line between fraternities and sports was blurred at your college—but the space he took up as he intercepted the man in front of you was.
~~
“There a problem here?” Bucky posed, crossing his arms over his chest, his presence looming above your seated position. His weight shifted to his toes.
The man didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, you. Move.” 
“Wanna fucking tell me what to do again?” 
“Fuck you, man.” 
A harsh shove to Bucky’s chest was all it took for a right hook to echo in the living room of the frat house. There was chaos. Grunts and screams from the drunk people surrounding the unnecessary fight created a cacophony of unpleasant sounds that seemed to get the attention of someone in charge. The man—Brian, you had now learned based on screams—was pulled back from Bucky and getting chewed out by some president or manager of something. 
And Bucky was seething, chest rising and falling laboriously as he wiped at the new bruise forming on his face.
Fights were not uncommon. But this one had been about you. For you.
“Bucky?” you asked when the crowd calmed and Brian was no longer in the room. 
You watched his back release its tight coil. He turned. “Are you okay?” 
The words were almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but he was close enough that they created a tactile vibration across your skin. His pupils were dilated and he looked so disheveled it would have been charming if there wasn’t also a cut forming on his brow. 
“Y/n.” 
It took you a moment to realize that you hadn’t answered him. Your response fell out of you as if you’d been shoved. “I’m—I’m fine.” 
He grunted, but it was more of a puff of air. “The fuck was that guy?” 
“I don’t know,” you replied, realizing by the way you swayed that you had stood up at some point. “He just—” 
“We’re going home.” 
“What? I can’t, I’m here with Wanda. I’m driving her, Bucky, I can’t just leave.” 
He grabbed your wrist, the grip achingly soft compared to the blows he was landing minutes before. “She left with that British guy she’s been on and off with. Asked me to tell you.” 
That explained his random appearance. Your brows pinched as you took in the information, eyes cast down to the angry red marks marring Bucky’s knuckles. He’d been in fights before. So many fights. On the ice. 
This was different. 
“I haven’t been drinking—I can drive myself home. You don’t have to leave,” you shouted over the music now bumping in the room. 
He didn’t respond, not verbally. He pulled you to his front instead, leading you through the impossible crowd until cool night air began melting into your skin. His silence was strange. Bucky’s favorite activity was talking your ear off until you told him to shut up, but right now… nothing. Even his earlier words had been clipped. 
You felt responsible for easing the tension in the air as Bucky continued to guide you to your car. You hadn’t told him where you parked, but he seemed to know the exact location anyways.
“You really don’t have to leave with me,” you mumbled. “It wasn’t a big deal or anything.” 
“It was a big deal.” 
~~
The drive home had been silent. The walk to the door had been as well. Bucky spent a few minutes appraising you in the overhead light of the living room when you got inside, but after that there was nothing. He went to his room and you went to yours. 
There was no discussion about it the morning after, either. Bucky apparently wanted to pretend nothing ever happened, so you respected that. Even now, you ignored the fading cuts on his hands as he shoveled food into his mouth.
Bucky’s next words were muffled by a mouthful of bread. “Well where’s this dude taking you at least?”
“Ice skating.”
The cough and sudden exasperation was very expected out of the man next to you, Bucky’s next words hardly containing syllables. “Huh?” 
“We’re going ice skating,” you reiterated. You picked up your lunch and headed for the living room, ignoring the slightly heaviness in your chest. “It’s winter and ice skating is festive. The rink on campus has decorations.” 
“Without me? Y/n, you’re gonna let some guy who probably doesn’t even know how to skate—” 
“Bucky—” you attempted to interrupt. 
“—drag you around the rink like a rag doll?” he continued, holding his hand up to mute your incoming speech. “I’ve asked you to come by the rink, like, a ton of times. You’ve never shown any interest.” 
You rolled your eyes and shot him a cross look as he picked your feet up from where they rested on the couch and dropped them into his lap. He went on with his rant for a little while longer, knocking his head back against cushions and accusing you of being a bad roommate. You had a few rebuttals of your own, but there was a reason you had never accompanied him to the rink. 
A good reason. 
You didn’t date athletes. 
It was true that simply going to visit Bucky at a practice, or letting him be the one to drag you around the ice like a rag doll, wouldn’t mean you were in a relationship by any means. But it would be an extra step. And if you were being honest with yourself, it would only take a few of those extra steps for the irritation you felt towards Bucky to melt into something else. 
And you didn’t date athletes. 
You did not. 
You didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to put up with the cheating, the anger issues, or the crazy schedules. And there wasn’t a single athlete you’d met at your sport-centered university that was willing to compromise on any of those subjects. Especially the cheating. You’d learned that the hard way after dating a lacrosse player for approximately one month before receiving the dreaded DM from a girl you had never met. 
The man hadn’t even given you the courtesy of pretending he didn’t know what she was talking about. He just admitted to his wrong-doing and shrugged. Shrugged. 
So athletes were not exactly in your good graces when it came to dating. 
“Are you even listening to me?” Bucky cut through your thoughts, patting your shin in impatience. 
You blinked and reoriented yourself, focusing on the hairs that fanned across Bucky’s face. “Of course I am,” you lied. “But my answer is still the same. I’m going on my date and you are not going on my date.” 
He groaned, apparently giving up as he cradled your legs closer to him to lean over and grab the remote from the coffee table. He flipped the channel to ESPN—typical—and you ate your sandwich, silently cursing him. He had a TV in his room. 
“When is it?” he suddenly asked, breaking the silence that had knitted itself into a comfortable blanket over the room. 
“Tonight,” you answered plainly. 
The arms atop your legs tensed. 
~~
The dichotomy of the man sitting beside you was impressive. On one hand, he was so full of himself that he had missed almost all of your conversation starters due to being so transfixed by his reflection in the rink’s glass. He had yet to ask you a single question about yourself and had insisted that the four other girls skating tonight were in love with him. 
On the other hand, he was, quite possibly, the most uninteresting person you had ever met. You were usually very quick to laugh, but every word out of his mouth was almost painful. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ex-girlfriend, gave you one word answers about anything other than baseball, and was honestly really terribly at ice skating. You were no pro either, but you found yourself on your back every time he tried holding your hand.
The tumble five minutes ago had you seeking out the penalty box on the side of the rink. You needed a break, you had told him, hoping he would continue on making a fool of himself and give you a moment alone. But he followed you instead, and was now sitting beside you, talking about baseball.
You supposed that was better than making you fall while talking about baseball.
“I bet we could do that,” he remarked, pointing out onto the ice and catching your attention. A couple who clearly had more experience than you was twirling each other around. “We definitely could. I pick up good speed.” You cringed. “I really don’t think we should try, Sean. My tailbone is already pretty bruised.” 
“Oh, c’mon! I won’t try the throwing part, just the twisty stuff.” 
“We are literally on rental skates. You will kill me,” you deadpanned. You were tired at this point and seriously questioning why you thought ice skating was a good first date idea. 
Well, there actually was an answer for that. But you were not going to think about the hockey player that popped into your head when Sean asked you on a date in the dining hall last week. 
Definitely not. 
“I’m not going to let my date think I’m boring,” Sean groaned, yanking you up from your seat. 
You gave a few tugs and words of resistance but they were ultimately useless. You figured it would be just as useless to tell the guy you already thought he was boring. He probably wouldn’t even hear you. 
On unsteady skates, Sean guided you to a mostly cleared corner of the rink and gripped your forearms. He squinted as he surveyed the area, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that made your stomach roll. This entire date had been a bad idea.
“Maybe we should just watch them do it,” you tried, words wavering. 
“No!” he grinned. “No, we got this. It’s gonna look so cool.” 
And then you were spinning. You’d never been spun against your will before, but it sucked. Your skates kept getting stuck in the divots in the ice and the grip on your forearms was close to bruising. You were starting to get dizzy and Sean showed no signs of caring. God, he really was dragging you around the rink like a rag doll. Bucky was going to get a kick out of this.
“Okay, ready?” Sean called, an unwarranted jubilation in his tone. 
“What?” you yelled. 
He didn’t answer you. Instead, he let go, and you went flying in another direction without a clear path. It only lasted a moment, but the sound of your head smacking onto the ice signified the end of that movement. You landed on your arm next, and then your back. Again. 
This time felt different though. Your head was spinning and there were muted pinpricks trailing up to your wrist. The ache there was dulled compared to the biting iciness in your back, but as soon as you tried leaning on it to get up, it became sharp.
“Oh shit!” came Sean’s laughter-filled gasp. “My bad. I really didn’t mean to let go.” 
You blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from your vision but it proved unhelpful. “I think… I think my arm’s broken.” 
“Wait, seriously?” he asked, wobbling down to a seat beside you. 
“Yeah, it’s—”
“Everything okay over here?” a voice interrupted. You tried blinking again to take in the man that towered over the two of you, but the lights overhead washed him out. 
You recognized him…maybe? You felt like you were going to throw up. 
Sean answered for you. “Yeah, man, we’re fine. She just fell.” 
“Y/n, are you okay?” the man asked, ignoring your date completely.
“Do I know you?” you slurred.
You thought you heard a curse. “What made you think throwing her around was a good idea?” 
“Dude, it wasn’t even that fast. Or my fault. She just couldn’t keep her feet under her.” 
“Well, dude, maybe you should go home.” 
Sean scoffed. “Right, and who’s going to take this one home?” 
Your head was starting to hurt with all of the back and forth. The man that just joined, the taller one, kneeled down beside you. His blonde hair cast a harsh glare that had you squinting again. 
“You want me to call Bucky?” he asked.
Bucky? How would he know Bucky? Blonde hair began morphing into a man in your memory, and you reached for the material of his shirt, looping it between your fingers.
“Steve Rogers?” you mumbled. 
The man, now identified as Steve, sighed. “I’m calling him. Go home, Sean. Her roommate is coming to get her.” 
There was more discussion, something about Steve having the authority to kick him out and Sean not understanding what all of the fuss was about. Steve warned him about something and Sean scoffed as if the situation was beneath him. And then he left. 
Steve was then in your line of sight again, brows pinched together and a bright orange vest covering his shoulders. His hands hovered in front of you as if you’d break if he touched you and you almost found it funny. Steve was a huge guy with a lot of authority on Bucky’s team, but right now he looked like a scared animal. 
“Why are you dressed like a construction worker?” you asked. 
A small smile graced his face. “I’m working at the rink today. Everyone on the team has to take shifts during the holidays.” 
“Hmm,” you hummed. “I think my arm is broken.” 
“I know. I’m pretty sure you have a concussion too. Let’s get you off the ice, yeah?” 
You tried to nod, but that hurt too much so you let Steve assist you in shakily standing up. He guided you to the seats by the rental skate counter with a soft but sure hand on your back, asking some guy named Antonio for an ice pack. Everything around you felt like a fever dream. 
Gentle touches rolled the sleeve of your sweater back to reveal a swollen wrist that Steve immediately covered with an ice pack. 
He cursed again. “Well he’s gonna be pissed.” 
“Who?” Your head swayed with the question. 
Steve looked up to meet your gaze, lips parting to answer, when he was replaced by a different face. Your brain was having trouble keeping up with everything, obviously, because Bucky was in front of you now. He was kneeling between your legs with his hands on your face and you had no idea where Steve went. 
“What the fuck?” you blurted out. 
“Hey, y/n.” Bucky spoke your name low and soothing, his fingers moving to your eyes where he pried them open one at a time and looked for something you couldn’t see. His next words were directed over his shoulder. “Maybe a concussion. Tell me what happened again?” 
“Sean Marcus was being an ass. Flung her all over the place,” Steve replied. 
“Why are you here?” you interjected, trying to focus on one thing at a time. “I told you not to come on my date.” 
Bucky moved his assessment to your arm next, shifting the ice pack. “Never really agreed to those terms.” 
He turned back to Steve after that, having another discussion that you barely understood. Bucky absentmindedly fiddled with the material of your jeans as he spoke, and you put all of your energy into not face planting on the ground. This past week had truly been a series of terrible events with terrible men. 
After some amount of time elapsed, you were walking to the parking lot with a jacket thrown over your shoulders and Bucky continuously jutting a hand out each time you took a step. He was very well versed in concussions, apparently. 
“Okay, in you go, killer,” Bucky prompted, opening the passenger door. 
You eyed the front seat, scrunching your face up. “My arm hurts.” 
The man in front of you seemed to soften, his shoulders dropping on a long exhale. “I know, sweetheart. But we gotta go to the hospital to fix that. I’ll make sure it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“I should just call Wanda. Or Nat. You don’t have to be the one to take me.” 
“I can take you just fine.”
“Why do you want to you? Aren’t you busy?” 
Another long sigh, this one accompanied by hands on your shoulders, fingers at the base of your neck. “Get in the car.”
His eyes were boring into yours, searching for something, or maybe already finding it there. You still had your arm cradled to your chest and you titled your head to the side as you observed him. There was something else to his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe. It reminded you of his expression after he came home from a rough game. Angry. Discontent. 
“You’re being weird,” you commented, breaking the silence you had created. 
“You broke your arm and smacked your head on the ice,” he simply replied, as if the statement was an explanation. 
“Yeah, but—” 
“And then that douchebag did nothing about it,” Bucky interrupted. “So please, y/n, get in the car so I can help you before I find him and kick his ass. Because you know I’m not above fighting people.” 
You blinked, and then slid into the front seat. 
The drive was quiet. You’d never been in Bucky’s car before, but the spinning in your head didn’t give you much space to inspect it too closely. You caught hockey gear in the back, a keycard to the rink dangling off the rearview mirror, and a small collection of hair ties in one of the cupholders. One caught your attention.
“Hey, this one’s mine.” You picked up the purple band and rolled it between your fingers. “Thief.” 
Bucky snatched it back. “Mine now.” 
He made a sharp turn that had you sucking air between your teeth and repositioning your arm. Bucky sent you a quick, achingly apologetic look. 
“Sorry, almost there.” A long beat of silence and then a mumbled, “I should keep your hair tie. You won’t be able to do your hair alone with a broken arm anyway.” 
~~
Your wrist was fractured, not broken. You also only had a minor concussion. This was all great news to you, especially since they told you after administering a hefty amount pain reliever. To Bucky, this was apparently terrible, life-altering news. 
After practically body slamming into the front door of your apartment, he chucked his wallet and keys down on the kitchen counter and began grumbling to himself as he opened and closed kitchen cabinets. You watched from a distance, half amused, half concerned for the rusting hinges. He finally found what he was looking for—a cup—and continued to mutter to himself as he filled it with gatorade. 
“Are you… okay?” you asked tentatively. 
Bucky ripped the freezer open and manhandled three to four ice cubes. “I’m fine. You are not.” 
“I’m okay now,” you assured. Bucky stalked over to you anyways, pressing the sports drink into your hand that was not wrapped in a cast.
You looked down at the glass and sent him a baffled look. He nodded at it and raised his brows, a silent demand for you to drink. 
“Okay. And why do I need to drink gatorade?” Your words were slow. 
“You were just on the ice and haven’t had any water for at least three hours.” 
“Bucky,” you began. “I was ice skating recreationally for about thirty minutes. I don’t need to replenish my electrolytes.” 
“Will you just… will you just drink the damn drink?” he groaned, gesturing to it with a firm hand. “Jesus, I can’t take care of you when you go and get yourself hurt by idiots. So just let me do what I know I can do, alright?” 
“You don’t have to take care of me.” You were beginning to raise your voice, matching some of the frustration in the room. 
Bucky threw his hands in the air, tugging at his roots on the way down. He moved further into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with stiff, rod-like arms propping him up. And then he sighed, long and profound as if this was the hardest conversation he’d had all year. His head hung heavy between stiff shoulders and you felt the environment shift. 
You almost wanted to intervene on his thoughts again, to make some comment about the dishes in the dishwasher or pretend you were going to go take a nap. But he had something to say, something you needed to hear, and so you stayed. You blinked and clenched your fist in the uncomfortable silence, but you stayed. 
“Y/n, I want to take care of you,” Bucky breathed out, words still directed toward the floor, almost too low to make out. “I’ve been tryna get you to see that for weeks now, but you’ve either got no clue or you want absolutely nothing to do with me.” 
You stopped blinking, stopped fidgeting, stopped breathing altogether. You watched as Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter and still refused to look up. You swallowed hard because you weren’t clueless, but also because you wanted everything to do with Bucky Barnes. 
And nothing at the same time. 
“Bucky…” you began, with a tone of surprise you weren’t sure was believable.
“Don’t do it yet,” he stopped you. “Don’t…don’t tell me no yet. I’m still pissed as hell that you got hurt and you shouldn’t be alone with a concussion. I don’t need you avoiding me when you can’t even drive a car.” 
“You’re being presumptuous.” 
He snapped his head up, his eyes rushing back and forth between your own. The drumming on the counter ceased, instead replaced by balled up fists turning white under days old cuts and fading bruises. He didn’t say anything. You searched the empty air for a reply. 
“I wouldn’t avoid you. I don’t know if I could avoid you—not anymore. You’re sort of a big part of my life now.” A good start, you thought. Not a real answer, but not a rejection. 
Bucky bit the inside of his cheek and eyed the drink still perspiring in your hand. You set it down at his observance, moving closer to his slumped posture in the kitchen. 
But Bucky stood up straight at your movement, becoming guarded, stiff. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Bad timing, just forget it. You should try and get some sleep.” 
“I don’t want to forget it,” you softly spoke, shaking your head.
He clenched his jaw. “And I don’t want to hear that you don’t feel the same way about me that I feel about you. Not right now. I feel like I’m going insane, watching you go out on dates and having my best friend tell me that my girl—that’s not really my girl—is all banged up on the ice because of some asshole.” 
You opened your mouth to speak, but Bucky kept going, now pacing in the kitchen. “I mean, y/n, you’re my everyday. I wake up and you’re making coffee. You text me in class to ask what I need at the grocery store and then I call you after practice to make sure you got back to the apartment. I think about you so god damn much and I can’t believe there was a time in my life that I didn’t get to end my day in a home that has you. And you’re just my roommate. You want nothing to do with athletes, I get it—” he added, catching your eye in the middle of his rant, “—but, shit, I haven’t even looked at another girl since… well it doesn’t even matter.”
“Tell me,” you whispered. There were a million other things you could’ve said, a million explanations that would have made sense. But the two soft words stopped Bucky from tracking holes in the ground. They shoved him from his shallow breaths and made him look at you. 
And, god, did he look at you. You must have been worse for wear. A hospital visit mixed with one too many tumbles onto solid ice probably had your hair in disarray and your face pressed with exhaustion, but his gaze was revering. Candy-coated red with soft blues melting below brows that fluxed with the movement of his lips; Bucky was beautiful, and he was looking at you as if you matched.
His tone confirmed as much, light and saccharin as he said, “That dumb movie a few weeks ago, the one about the superheroes. Your friends wouldn’t watch it with you so you made me. You were so excited even though it was awful and you were out like a light within the first hour. You rolled over onto me and I wasn’t gonna wake you up so I sorta just held you.” 
He paused, trailing his eyes up to the light fixtures. “At the risk of sounding pathetic, it felt like I had you, you know? Like we were going through all our usual motions, but after I annoyed the hell out of you and you told me off, you were mine. I can’t… I can’t really picture that with another girl.” 
There were very few times you had considered yourself speechless. But with Bucky Barnes standing in front of you, red-faced and vulnerable and still wearing the stupid hospital nametag they made him put on in the waiting room, you had no words. There was none of the arrogance you usually associated with him, no short-temper or pestering taunts. It was just Bucky, and he was pouring his heart onto the kitchen floor. For you. 
“You get why you can’t tell me no just yet?” he asked, trying to get something out of you. Anything. “You can break my heart, but let me just make sure you’re okay first. And I can’t beat the shit out of Sean if we aren’t on speaking terms.” 
The laugh that left you was one of disbelief, but the breathiness and accompanying tears fit the heaviness of the room. Your glossy eyes met Bucky’s and something flashed on his face, but it was soon out of your line of sight because you were kissing him. You were kissing him hard and your bodies were too close for the cast between you but it didn’t matter. 
He didn’t respond at first, hand hovering at your back. But then he did and the cold linoleum of the kitchen floor was gone from your bare feet. He sat you on the counter, so gently, as if you were glass, and you let your hand brush against the cracks and divots of your home. The one that Bucky came back to every night to see you. 
The one that had housed so many nights of confusion and longing and denial.
The one that had Bucky kissing the life out of you on the kitchen counter. 
He pulled away first, forehead pressed to yours. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to do that.” 
“You can do it again.” 
“Oh, I will, baby.” 
Laughter met in the air between you—sweet, short, intertwined. There was so much you wanted to tell him, so many instances like the one he shared before where you were left questioning boundaries and feelings and lines. But, you figured, there would be so many opportunities to tell him. So much time together. 
“I texted Wanda that night,” you shared, interrupting the kisses he was pressing to your cheek. “After I woke up and you had taken me back to my room.” 
He smiled against your skin. “What’d you say?” 
“I told her I was an idiot—that I was falling for the enemy.” 
Bucky ran a soft hand along the back of your head, a smirk lighting up his face. He was slotted between your legs and kept his other hand firmly pressed onto the kitchen counter, caging you in, making sure your arm didn’t hit the cabinets. 
“And is that true?” 
“I don’t know,” you hummed, connecting your foreheads once again, wanting to stay impossibly close. “Try to cure my broken bone with gatorade again and we’ll see.”
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remuslupinslittleslut · 3 months
Text
The morning after-cure
Part two of this.
After getting stupidly drunk and trying to get in her boyfriends' pants, reader finally gets what she wants. <3
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Waking up, your head was pounding. The few glasses of water that had been poured into your mouth before bed did little to help. Stretching your body, you curse yourself for drinking so much the night before. Deciding it’s not actually time to get up yet, you snuggle your way into the arms of the closest person, who turned out to be Sirius, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.
“How’re you feeling today, love?” He asks.
You sigh, hiding your head even further into the crook of his neck, “my head hurts.”
Feeling the shaking in his chest from the chuckle he let out, you try to kick him, but your limbs are too tired to make the attempt count. Despite you not being able to actually kick him, he still grabs a hold of your chin, as he flips you both to lay on top of you.
“What’re you doing little one? Trying to hurt me? After I told you to drink water and take an aspirin when we got home?” His hips roll against yours, hardening cock pressing against your naked core through the fabric of his underpants.
“Siri, please,” you beg, fingers pulling his hips closer to yours, pushing through the top of his underpants, trying to move them down his legs.
“Awe, baby, don’t rush it.” Sirius started kissing down your neck, but he stopped moving his hips. Pushing himself up with one arm, the other came down between the two of you, fingers lifting up your t-shirt, and then slipping in between your thighs. “Oh, honey, you’re dripping for me, didn’t get what you wanted last night, huh?”
The feeling of fingers against your clit and words spoken against your neck made you moan, hips bucking to meet his hand.
“You’ve gotta be quiet babe, or you’ll wake the others,” he chastised, “actually, if you make any sounds, I’ll stop.”
He kissed your nose before moving down the bed, placing his head where his hand had been before, tongue diving in to taste the sweetness of your juices. Your hand went straight to his hair, trying to hold him as close as possible, pushing his lips harder against your core.
You were trying so hard not to make a sound but when you were finally pushed over the edge, you couldn’t help the sound escaping from your lips, earning you a slap to the inside of your thigh.
“Is it my turn now?” James asked from your right, as Sirius moved away from you, licking around his lips.
“No, Prongsy, I’ve waited for longer,” Remus said, taking Sirius’ previous spot.
Pouting, James leaned in to kiss you on the lips instead, which resulted in him kissing all over your face, neck and chest, as Remus brought you to your second orgasm of the morning.
“How’s your head baby? Can you handle one more? Can’t leave Jamie hanging…”
“Just need a sip of water, then I can take another,” you gasp, only just coming down from the second orgasm.
“Someone go get her a straw, I’m not waiting.” He wasn’t lying, his fingers pushed into you, tongue licking at your clit.
Your first orgasm was nice, it was hard to keep quiet but you enjoyed Sirius lips on you, your second was great, Remus lighting nerves already fired up, but your third orgasm, oh, that was spectacular, turned into four, even. You knew James loved eating you out more than any of the other boys, and when he was left for last, he showed it especially much. Fingers plunging in and out of your cunt, tongue licking, lips kissing, wanting to taste every bit of you.
“Oh, god, Jamie, coming, oh,” you barely get the warning out before you’re coming, squirting over James, drenching his face and his shirt, leaving the sheets all wet.“See, little love, it’s so much better, when it’s all consensual,” Sirius said, kissing the top of your head and offering you some fresh water, from a straw.
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