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jakeyt · 11 months

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Covet: Chapter 3

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in.

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: minors DNI (18+ ONLY); masturbation (f!receiving); vivid descriptions of sexual situations; tension; mentions of past toxic relationship/cheating; consumption of alcohol; anxiety; Jake being an asshole; veryyy stubborn reader (lemme know if I missed any!)

Chapter Word Count: 10.6k

a/n: hi sweet readers & friends! get ready for a little bit of spice in this chapter. hopefully it meets your standards. if not, there will be so much more to come. . . just you wait! lol

this chapter was supposed to include a few more scenes, but i'm saving them for next chapter. i just liked the idea of leaving off with this one where i did. ;)

also, if you care at all what the guys look like in my mind as i'm currently writing, here you go (sammy & danny are included under the chapter 3 section). :)

Chapter 3

You had to work the day after your talk with Jake.

It was a Josh-less shift, so naturally, it went by much slower than a shift where Josh’s musings would fill the air.

Normally, you’d enjoy the stillness of the store. A sweet summer morning filled with mindless thoughts and music.

Though today, your brain spun with thoughts of your roommate. Were they mindless thoughts? Yes. Obviously. They came out of seemingly nowhere. . .save for the little dream that had completely interrupted your sleep the night before.

But these mindless thoughts weren’t the normal thoughts you’d get that would bring a sense of calm. No, these brain loops were extremely unwelcome.

The first thing you did was print out all of the things you’d promised Jake you would on the store’s copier. You were hoping once that was out of your hair, maybe your mind wouldn’t stay on him. You’d thought that maybe the thoughts were just serving as a subconscious reminder to get that done.

-🌼🌼🌼-

But completing the task didn’t work like you wanted it to. Because around noon, Jake was still at the front of your mind.

Fuck. Why?! It was completely aggravating.

You didn’t really know what made him stick in your mind for the majority of your shift, but all you could seem to think of was his smooth, tanned skin, kissed by the summer sun. His long hair that swayed so smoothly with every motion. His big, amber-brown eyes that dug so much deeper than you wished they did.

For some reason, after that talk, you had etched Jake’s mannerisms into your mind. You replayed the conversation more times than you’d ever care to admit.

And you were now noticing that maybe talking with him wasn’t great for you mentally.

You’d noticed that, apparently, Jake Kiszka had a special way of making his own little ridiculous home in multiple crevices of your poor brain.

Why did he have that power?

All it did was piss. you. off.

Anytime his face appeared behind your eyes, you would suddenly get so angry.

He did not deserve any place in the thoughts that came during your quiet times.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When your shift finally ended at 3:00, Tara and Lacey (the only other people who worked at the B&G with you and Josh), walked in with joyful greetings. You gave them a quick smile as you grabbed your purse and the things you’d printed.

As soon as you stepped out onto the busy sidewalk of the city, and the summer sun hit your face, you sighed with relief. On this day, you were beyond ready to get away from the stillness of the record store. You let the normality of busy NYC breathe a sense of calmness into you.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you got home, Jake was in the shower and you hated how quickly you felt your cheeks flush at the thought.

You realized that maybe you just needed a good nap before game night ensued, so you went to your room intending to do just that. Stevie noticed where you were going, and softly padded after you. Probably eager for her own little nap.

You hadn’t had time to make your bed that morning, so you sat on your ruffled sheets and sent Josh a text asking when he’d be there and what they wanted for dinner. Josh loved cooking with you.

Stevie came up to you as you texted, putting her head into your free hand. You petted her as she purred, and finished your text.

You were excited to distract yourself by being with your best friend. You were also dying to see Sammy and Danny. It had been way too long since the last time you had hung out with the three men. It was a soul refreshing experience every time you came together.

And now Jake was suddenly getting added to the mix. . .

You grit your teeth at the thought. Suddenly irritable over that particular fact.

It made you less than happy to make him a part of the group, to say the least.

Josh had just pinged a couple texts back saying they’d be there around 7 with booze in hand and ingredients for stir fry, when there was a light knock on your door.

You couldn’t hold back the eye roll. What could he want?

You opened the door in a brisk manner.

Of course, Jake stood waiting on the other side.

Half-naked Jake.

A towel was tied around his waist snugly. And, your eyes betrayed you. It was as though you had no self control, you let your eyes travel from his shower-drenched locks to his firm chest. Your eyes followed a single droplet of water that dripped from his hair. It traveled down his taut nipple, to his toned abdomen and finally into the fluffy fabric of the towel settled at his lower region.

You gulped.

“Um,” his voice shook you from your actions and you looked up into his eyes. Your cheeks heated at being caught. “I was just in the shower, and I thought maybe it would be a good idea to figure out how we wanna split utilities?” He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “It honestly just came to me while I was in there.”

You blinked a couple times. His thoughtfulness caught you off guard.

“I–yeah, that’s fine with me,” you nodded, looking back to see Stevie already curled up on the bed waiting for a snooze. “How about we talk about it later, hm? I was kind of wanting to take a nap.”

“Oh, yeah–of course, um,” he took a step back, gesturing for you to shut your door. “Sweet dreams.”

Sweet dreams. How ironic when all he’d done was haunt yours the night before.

You shut your door with much more force than expected. You just couldn’t help it. Your roommate brought out an impulsive behavior in you that you weren’t the biggest fan of. Why did you have to ogle him? Why couldn’t you just address him normally? Why did he have to—? Ugh.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and flopped down onto your bed.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You awoke from a (thankfully) dreamless sleep to the sound of John Lennon’s voice. Your “Dear Prudence” alarm tone, a faithful friend to bring you back.

You were feeling ready to face a night with your friends–and Jake. You assured yourself of this as you brushed through your hair a couple of times in the dresser mirror. The fact that his face or body hadn’t met you in your dreams was what you needed to feel confident and ready for this night.

Last night’s dream was a total fluke. Surely it had only happened because his interaction with you had jostled your irritation and nerves . . . your subconscious mind had been unstable because of it.

All you’d needed was some good rest to reset.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You weren’t disappointed at all that you didn’t see Jake until Josh’s voice quite literally reverberated throughout the entire apartment. It was a normal way for him to enter a room and announce his presence.

The curly-headed twin came in with a flourish of his arms and hands, standing in place with purpose. He was gesturing wildly with his hands, operatically singing what you knew to be an Aretha Franklin song, at the top of his lungs.

You felt for your neighbors, but you couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear at your friend.

But when Josh saw Stevie, he got distracted and loudly sang her name. He knelt down to start petting at her right away. He talked to her with so much enthusiasm, and you watched her eat it up. Her tail curled in glee.

You absolutely beamed when Sammy ran up to you, wrapping his arms around you tightly in a bear hug. He swayed you slightly from side to side, and your feet lifted a bit off the ground at the gesture.

When he set you back down on the ground, he pushed his hair back from his face with both hands. His smile was wide across his face, instantly lighting up the room around you all.

“Y/N,” he cocked his hip and spoke with little waves of his hands. “First of all, I missed you. So much.”

“Not more than me!” And you felt Danny’s arms wrap around you from behind, bringing your feet several inches off the ground. You felt him squeeze you once, and then he balanced you on your feet. His hands gripped at your shoulders slightly. He came around to stand next to Sammy, in front of you. “How’ve you been, Y/N?!”

Josh circled around, laying a lazy arm over your shoulders. You felt every bit of the usual contentment the three men brought with being around them. You felt your heart swell in your chest.

“If you’ll excuse us, I’ve missed her most,” Josh turned you both around, walking with purpose to the kitchen. He gave you the big bear hug you were sure he knew you needed. When you pulled apart, his hand patted a case of your favorite alcohol.

You gasped ridiculously. “Angry Orchard,” you placed a hand to your chest. “Joshua, you shouldn’t have.”

You heard the other boys talking with Jake in the living room and suddenly, the sound of a crackling vinyl sparked to life. You listened briefly, wanting to get a clue at what Jake had picked to play. You gave an approving face, nodding to the melody.

Cream. Wheels of Fire. You knew it well. After all, Clapton was a favorite in your own family.

Josh sighed. He had a smirk on his lips. “Cream. Figures,” then he paused, giving you an inquisitive look. “You’re letting him play his vinyl on your player? You’re awfully protective when it comes to that thing.”

You felt your stomach do a little loop. Your sentimental attachment to the record player hadn’t ever entered your mind at offering for Jake to use it. It was one of the only pieces you had of the parents who’d left you. But when you’d come up with the idea, all you had cared about was getting to know your roommate.

You’d been desperate, okay? That’s the only reason you hadn’t thought of it all the way through.

“It’s just a way to get to know each other,” you explained. “A last ditch effort that I knew he couldn’t refuse.”

Josh’s eyes held a glint of mischief. You didn’t even entertain whatever he was thinking. You just went about getting out the Zip-loced ingredients Josh had brought in his little tote. You knew Sam well enough to know he’d taken it upon himself to cut the veggies and cube his tofu for you. All that wasn’t prepared yet was the raw, packaged chicken.

You grinned to yourself.

“Sam wouldn’t touch the chicken,” Josh noted, getting the necessary pans down. “Got everything else diced up, though. Even the sponge.”

You laughed outright at that. “The tofu?” You looked at your friend from the corner of your eye.

His brown orbs flicked to you. “Sponge.”

You laughed again, spreading some olive oil in the pan Josh had put on the burner to heat up. You went about getting out the necessary sauces and minced garlic from the fridge. And as you did, you heard a husky, unfamiliar laugh within Danny and Sam’s own guffawing. Your stomach held a few butterflies at the sound.

Could it be? You shook your head. It didn’t matter.

Josh was searing the vegetables and tofu with a bamboo spoon when you walked back with the additional supplies. You grabbed the cutting board from behind the faucet, and got out a paring knife to start chunking up the chicken.

“I love being able to hear him laugh again,” Josh commented absentmindedly. You could hear tears in the back of his throat. “It’s quite literally music to my ears.”

“I’m glad for you, Josh.”

Your friend cleared his throat, and you caught his eye as he glanced over at you. “How’s he been?”

You thought for a second, deciding to keep it brief (obviously ignoring how you hadn’t been able to get Jake out of your head all day), “It’s been alright.”

He hummed, “Just alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you thought he was done. He didn’t speak for a few minutes until, “How did he respond to the rules and such? Did you go through with that?”

You really didn’t want to taint your time with Josh by talking about Jake. You decided to give a short response to give Josh a hint, “Last night. Went well enough,” you continued. “He obviously checked the things I printed off. Tonight’s his record player night, and he’s playing his vinyl on it.”

“His record player night?”

“Yes. He gets a night, I get a night, and so on,” your tone was slightly snippy. You just didn’t want to waste time on the topic. “It’s to help us get to know the other through our music taste.”

He patted a hand on your shoulder, “How did you possibly think of a way to get Jacob to open up so well, Y/N?”

You scoffed. “Desperate times, Josh. I told you that. Besides, it’s what I always use to bond with people. It was a shot in the dark. Wasn’t specifically for him. It was so I could actually get to know him in some sort of way. It was for me, not him.”

He gave a small hum and turned back to continue cooking. Thank God. You didn’t want to talk about Jake.

You both went about your business for a little. After you’d set the chicken in another oil-greased pan, it sizzled, so you turned down the heat. Then, a thought came to your mind.

“You know, I think I’ve finally decided on the house plant I want.”

The two of you had ventured into a shared curiosity of house plants for the last year.

And you had spent about that long trying to decide on plants for your homes.

It was a difficult decision, because certain plants brought their own energy. And trying to narrow down the house plant that would start the collection and bring your specific desired energies into your living spaces? It had turned out to be a harder task than you’d both anticipated. You both struggled to stay on one thought for long enough to actually see it through, and you were both the type to not act on something until it felt totally ‘right.’

“Oh?” You’d piqued his interest. He nudged around at the vegetables and tofu in his pan a bit, then turned the heat down to face you. He raised a brow, crossing his arms at his chest. “Do tell.”

“French Lavender,” you started. He motioned a hand for you to keep going, looking down, his eyebrows completely knitted in thought. “It just smells so good, it’s a beautiful color. It will survive in any indoor climate. How cool is that? And it has the highest vibrational frequency of any plant that’s known to bring good fortune. All of these things and more make it a sure sign of good to come, you know?”

By the end of your rambling, he was staring intently at you, “You are truly the best kind of human, Y/N.”

And, of course, his voice interrupted your pleasant moment with your friend.

“We’re trying to decide on games, Josh.”

Jake. How long had he been standing in the doorway without you two noticing? Jerk. Eavesdropper.

“I’m helping Y/N with the stirfry, Jacob,” he turned back to his post, shuffling the veggies. He noticed at the same time as you that they were officially done. So, he really wasn’t helping you anymore. Which freed him up to–, “It’s actually done, so I’m going to help them find something fun to play. That okay?”

You were proud of how you schooled your expression. You gave a (fake) little grin. “Yeah, that’s perfect,” you poked at the chicken, turning a few pieces to see it browning well. “The chicken is almost done.”

Josh gave you a quick smile before following after his brother into the living room.

You sneered over the chicken you cooked, displeased with how Jake was now stealing away your time with Josh.

Was he just incapable of allowing you one moment of peace?

-🌼🌼🌼-

It had been about an hour since you’d all sat around the dinner table with stir fry. It had been accompanied by hilarious stories of Sammy’s recent (failed) Tinder match dates, and Danny commentating, totally ashamed of his friend’s ‘love life’. He and Sam had the perfect dynamic for friendship. One being the insane risk-taker. And the other, the completely rational mind in every situation.

Now, you all sat around your coffee table. You sat on the couch, flanked by Sam and Josh. Danny and Jake had brought a couple of your dining room chairs up, so they could be involved.

Josh had decided on a favorite of his: You Laugh, You Drink. And you were spinning an empty Angry Orchard bottle for any card that made you interact with someone else.

Thankfully, neither you nor Jake had gotten a card that required a partner yet. You were very tipsy. You’d cracked and laughed way too many times during the game to still be sober.

You weren’t sure how this inebriated version of you would react to Jake having to yell at your crotch, if you were being completely honest.

Josh and Danny had already played that card anyway.

Admittedly, under the influence of alcohol, you caught yourself casting a few too many looks in Jake’s direction. But you couldn’t help yourself. You were a warm-blooded woman who was attracted to men.

And he was a damn good looking man. You knew addressing this fact under the influence was an “ok” thing to do. You were drunk. You had alcohol in your system, so you weren’t thinking clearly.

But you had to admit, even sober-you knew he was sexy as hell.

In this state, you noticed that everything he did was enamoring. The way he’d brush a hand through the front of his hair, making it wave perfectly at the top of his head. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he laughed. Why was the sight so alluring to you?

But the best part of his face? His smile. You had noticed tonight that he had perfectly straight and perfectly white teeth that you hadn’t really been able to observe until this point. His smile was absolutely beautiful. It lit up his entire face. The bigger he smiled, the more the apples in his cheeks swelled. You wished that you saw your roommate more. It was pure serotonin when his face was all joyful and shit.

And you’d never say it out loud, but being around him made you feel (strangely) giddy. Like, school-girl-has-a-crush giddy.

Maybe Josh had been onto something when he’d suggested the idea of you being able to see what Jake was like around others. Jake was a captivating individual, to say the least.

You took another swig of your cider.

When you put your head back down, it was your turn.

And when you looked to see where Jake was, you noticed he was up at the record player. He was switching Wheels of Fire back to Side A. The entire double LP had officially played through once. And instead of putting a new record on, he just replayed the same one. You assumed the record was a favorite.

“You like Wheels of Fire a lot, huh?” you inquired in his direction.

He didn’t look at you as he placed the needle back on Side A, “It’s one of the best; a classic.”

“Yes, he’s always liked that one,” Josh agreed. “Has a few of his favorites on it.”

Jake actually respected his brother enough to look at Josh when he responded to him, “Nothing like hearing the live version of Crossroads on vinyl.”

“Clapton fan?” You implored.

He rolled his eyes and gave you a look with raised brows that said ‘really?’.

It irked you. Considering you were only trying to make polite conversation. Why was he so impossible?

“It’s Cream – not specifically Clapton,” he corrected impatiently. “You literally just said it was Wheels of Fire. You know it’s not just him, right? There were two other extremely valuable members. Ginger Baker? Jack Bruce? Ever heard of ‘em?”

His questioning tone wasn’t a kind one. You could tell he was mocking your musical knowledge; all it did was piss you the fuck off.

You were about to retort when Sam chimed in, “Jake is the biggest Clapton fan on this beautiful green Earth,” he looked over to Jake, who you noticed was still staring at you, obviously annoyed by you. Ass. “Don’t let him fool you, Y/N.”

You stared back at Jake until your face was completely heated. Your skin was crawling. “Why do you have to make it a fucking argument? I’m just being nice.”

He scoffed. He walked back to his seat next to Daniel, and sat down with his elbows resting on his thighs, challenging you. “I wasn’t arguing. I was educating you.”

“I don’t need to be educated by you.”

“It seems like you do,” he pressed further. “I wouldn’t be surprised if all you’d known about Cream until tonight was that Eric Clapton was in the band. Basic knowledge.”

“Jake. . .,” Danny started.

“She knows more than you think, brother,” Josh intervened. “Might even challenge you a bit, honestly.”

Jake scoffed. “Oh, I fuckin’ bet,” he rolled his eyes again with the words.

There were a few moments of tight air between you and your roommate. Even with the others’ responses, he continued staring only at you. Probably continuing to assume what he wanted about you. You were tired of it, but you couldn’t pull your eyes from him. His eyes were like magnets for your own.

And you needed to win the staring contest that was apparently happening now. You wouldn’t give in.

“Let’s move on,” Josh’s voice cut through. You couldn’t help it when you looked over to him. Your heart was racing and all you wanted was to feel a sense of peace. And Josh’s intervention made it obvious that he was also eager for peace. “Y/N. . .choose a card,” Josh motioned to the stack of cards as a magician might.

You grabbed a card from the stack.

Your mind nearly blanked at what it said.

“The prompt reads. . .,” Josh verbally nudged you to read your card. “Will you laugh when someone in the group. . .”

You cleared your throat, “Touches parts of the Target’s body while whispering what each body part is.”

Sam chuckled. “This could be hilarious.”

You swallowed deeply. You could only hope that the bottle would choose your ‘someone’ wisely.

Your hand hesitantly reached towards the bottle, and gave it a decent spin.

“Who shall your Target be?” Josh said as the bottle spun.

You kept your eyes trained on Danny and Jake’s knees, both clad in black skinny jeans.

The bottle went a few times around the table. When it started slowing down, your stomach dropped.

It went a couple ticks more. And then slowly, very slowly. . . It landed on. . .

Jake.

Of fucking course.

Your ears filled with white noise. You just stared at the bottle, not wanting to acknowledge the realness of the situation. You thought you heard a single ‘ha!’ and you could have sworn it was Sam.

“Fuck you, Sam,” Jake corrected, confirming your theory.

You looked up at him and affirmed your fate.

Jake was already staring directly at you. But his eyes weren’t angry. He was looking at you in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint at that moment.

“Anyone laughs, just once. . . I get to stop?” You turned your head in Josh’s direction to ask, while you still held eye contact with the alluring man in front of you.

“All it takes is one laugh and the next Joker is up,” Josh answered.

“And I have to touch his body?”

Josh hummed. “Technically, you should only be touching his body, but,” he paused. “Start by touching clothes if it makes you feel more comfortable.”

You decided to bite the bullet. You could start by putting on a little show to get some laughs. Stop it before it even starts.

You rose from your place between Josh and Sam. You even curved your back as you did so, your ass poking out with the motion. You kept your eyes locked with Jake’s. His jaw clenched. He definitely wouldn’t be the one to laugh.

Your legs were slightly shaky, but you felt like your little act covered that up. You walked towards Jake, around the small coffee table. And the closer you got, the more you swayed your hips. You licked your bottom lip the slightest bit.

Jake’s mouth dropped open, his eyes moved to your hips.

His reaction was surprising, but welcomed. You wanted him to be at your mercy. He needed to be put in his place. Normally you wouldn’t use sex to get your way. . . But you’d had alcohol and it was making decisions.

And you honestly couldn’t help how your body seemed to activate like this for Jake. It felt natural.

But no laughs from anyone yet. Dammit.

As soon as you were in front of him, you sort of froze. You didn’t know what to do next. You let the alcohol make the first move for you.

“Get up,” you commanded.

And surprisingly, he did just as you asked.

You moved a few steps closer to be right in front of him, your chest getting so close to touching his. You kept enough room for your arm to move between the two of you. The space between his pecs, all the way down to the top of his stomach, was uncovered, thanks to the man not knowing how to button a damned shirt.

You let your hand graze from the shoulder of his shirt, all the way down to the first button that was fastened. Your eyes followed the movement of your hand. You rubbed your thumb over the button, playing with the plastic.

“You always have to show off your chest, huh?” You said softly to him, trying to act annoyed. But in reality, you rather liked that he didn’t button his shirts all the way. You were sure that all women who saw him like this were thankful for it. What a sight.

Jake only gave a ‘hmph’ in response.

With the next action, you looked up at him, through your lashes. He was already looking at you. His pupils were completely dilated. You had moved a finger to be on the fabric of the shirt, nudging the button through its loop.

When it came undone, his eyes blinked once in shock, widening a bit. But, the rest of his face stayed stoic.

Level 2, you thought.

You then slipped one hand in the open area of the shirt, under the flowered material. You placed your hand on the side of Jake’s abdomen. His skin was warm. It made your own skin prickle at the feeling. It was nice.

You brushed your thumb over the heated skin. It felt so thrilling. You stepped closer to him, still holding eye contact.

“Stomach,” you whispered to him.

He closed his eyes for a second, and when they opened back up, they were dark and hooded. Your skin heated under his sultry stare.

You turned your eyes back to your hand. This time, you smoothed over the skin of his stomach on the way to his right pec, brushing over the hardened nipple on his breast. You flushed at the feeling of it pebbled under your hand.

You edged your body closer. When you did, you got close enough that your hips almost touched his. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt a little hint of hardness through the fabric of his pants.

It made your body thrum. It urged you on.

You held your hand there and gripped the flesh just slightly. He let out the slightest moan. You just knew the other guys hadn’t heard it, it had been so quiet. But you heard it and the sound went straight to the pit of your stomach.

“Chest,” you whispered, getting awfully close to his ear when you said it, wanting only him to hear the next part. “You have a very nice chest.”

You didn’t know where the courage came from to say the last part, but you felt Jake flex underneath your hand. You felt a twitch between your thighs.

You decided to creep your hand from his chest to his neck. The smooth, tanned skin of his neck. You skated your nails against his skin. You sighed just a bit, your breath hitting Jake’s skin. You weren’t sure where the sound came from, but after it happened, you watched goosebumps spread over his skin.

When you made it to his neck, you wrapped a hand securely around the nape. You stroked circles with your thumb over the pulse point that was nearby. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as your thumb worked his neck.

You brought the other hand up to join and you lightly cradled his neck. Involuntarily, he let his head lay back into your hands, his hair falling against your wrist. The feeling sent a chill over your body.

“Neck.”

From their spot, you moved your hands the slightest bit to hold his face in both of your hands. It felt so intimate, you almost forgot where you were. He locked eyes with you when you looked up at him. And you could have sworn you felt his hand brush the curve of your hip.

“Fa—.”

Then, Josh started laughing. It made you jump the slightest bit.

It was a fake laugh out of him. You knew the real sound like the back of your hand. You knew him well enough to know he was trying to save you from this situation. He still thought you didn’t want it, that it was making you uneasy.

It was making you feel uneasy. But you weren’t sure if it was still true that you didn’t want it.

You moved away from Jake hesitantly after the laugh had rung through the air. And he seemed to blink himself back into real time after you stepped back.

But he still looked at you in a way that was new. . . His eyes were questioning you, almost like he was so curious to know more about what you were (apparently) hiding.

Though, you weren’t even sure what it was you were keeping hidden, so you broke eye contact sharply and walked back to your spot between Josh and Sam. You gave Josh a look of relief to try to convince yourself that relief was the emotion you were feeling.

But you were completely confused by yourself. It must’ve been the alcohol controlling you and clouding your thoughts. It had to have been.

Josh rubbed your back, and gave you a little smile of comfort.

You hoped to God you wouldn’t have to partner with Jake again because you weren’t sure what would happen next time.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Around 11:30, when the guys were gathered around the door waiting to leave, Josh asked his brother something.

“So, Jacob, any news on the job front? I meant to ask you earlier.”

Jake’s head perked up, his shoulder was leaning against the door frame.

“Oh, I got the job, actually,” he said with a smile, crossing his arms over his chest. “I guess my audition was so good that I’ll be teaching some of the more prestigious clients. Only the most impressive auditions get a chance to give lessons to the ‘high end’ clientele.”

Your ears tuned in. You were very curious. You hadn’t known he was actively looking for jobs. And what kind of job would have clients? And he’d auditioned? What could it be?

“I mean, other than that being societal garbage,” Sam started, interrupting your thoughts. “That’s pretty fucking sweet.”

Danny and Josh agreed, seeming very happy for their brother.

Why had you known nothing of any of this? You were pretty agitated. You were the one who had offered him a place. You were probably the only person who needed to know considering he needed to help you pay rent and shit.

He had been the one to bring up utilities, after all. Maybe that’s why he had thought of it today. Because he’d gotten a job.

“You're going to be doing something that you love, Jake,” Danny added with a grin. “I’m so happy for you.”

Josh made a noise, so you looked at him. You saw one single tear leave his eye that he quickly brushed away. He sniffed, then inquired. “Will you teach children? Or adults?”

Teach? you thought. And why was Josh so emotional over it?

“Both,” Jake replied.

Sam went to Jake and patted his shoulder a couple times, then clasped the material of Jake’s shirt in his hands. “Those people are going to be in awe of your skill, Jake — especially the kids.”

Kids?

“What sort of job is this going to be exactly?” You wondered aloud.

Jake only stared at you, seeming to remember that you were there at all. Josh answered for him, “Jake is going to teach people how to play the guitar.”

Your eyes widened. “You play?”

Sam gawked at that. “You’re Jake’s roommate and you didn’t know that he plays the guitar?”

“I had no clue,” you affirmed. “I mean, I knew he had guitars, but—,” you shook your head. “When–how long have you played?”

Again, no answer from him, so Danny replied in his place. “Since he was like, little. . .toddler age,” he continued. “It’s his favorite thing in the world to do, play guitar.”

The other two friends agreed with the statement.

“You really didn’t know how much he loved to play?” Sam still seemed completely shocked.

You shook your head again in response.

You were surprised at it. You knew he’d brought the guitars with him. You could never forget when you tried to help unload them and he’d completely snapped at you for it. It definitely made more sense now. He was probably extremely protective over them if he’d played for so long.

But, why had you never heard or seen him play? If he was so passionate about it, surely he’d play more. But maybe he didn’t find you worthy of knowing this talent of his. That honestly seemed most likely.

You’d initially thought that maybe it was something he just did for fun. A little hobby. Apparently it was much more than that.

“I’m curious how it will go,” Jake finally spoke again. “I’ve never done something like this. It’ll be interesting.”

Sam moved back to his spot next to Josh. “You will totally stun those kids, Jake,” he brushed a hand through his hair. “And the adults! I mean, they will not know what to do with a living legend.”

Living legend?

You stepped forward, irritation clear in your tone when you spoke. “How come I’ve never heard you play?”

“I do it when you’re not at home,” Jake responded coolly.

“Why?” you challenged. And at the same time, Sam also asked ‘why?’.

All he did was shrug at you, and looked back to Sam, who was already speaking again.

“Jake, you’ll be such an inspiration to those little kids. Someone they’ll want to be when they grow up for sure,” Sam’s voice softened. “Just how I always looked at you.”

“Thanks, Sammy boy,” Jake blushed, a small grin forming on his face.

-🌼🌼🌼-

After the boys left, you went about putting the leftover stir fry in Tupperware while Jake busied himself in the living room putting games away.

You were steadily getting hit by waves of tiredness thanks to your many ciders.

You had put the stir fry in the fridge, and were now moving onto putting any spare alcohol in a little group on the counter. Just as you’d arranged all of the beverages, you saw Jake enter the kitchen out of the corner of your eye. Your stomach got swirly in his presence and you just wanted to go to sleep.

You kept doing what you had been doing before he’d come in and when you finished, you went to leave.

But a hand with calloused fingertips gripped your forearm to stop you right as you got to the doorway.

You hated how your tummy flipped at the feeling of his overworked fingertips that moved up your bare arm to lightly grip your bicep.

You didn’t turn to him completely. You just shifted your head to the side, to show you were aware of his action. You felt the heat of his body come up behind you, and tried to hide the shiver it brought over you. He wasn’t touching you, but he was so close.

“Thanks for letting me stay here while I get back on my feet,” he offered, surprisingly kindly. “I appreciate it.”

Your cheeks flushed. You couldn’t help it. This was completely unexpected. “You’re welcome,” you offered quietly in response.

He didn’t move. Your breath was stuck in your throat at the proximity of him to you.

So, you decided to be the one to create a distance between you two. You didn’t want to push any more limits tonight. And you didn’t want to give him too much of your time.

You were just so tired. You were ready for bed.

You left him in the kitchen. And for some reason, you felt just a little bad for it.

— 🌼🌼🌼 —

Middle of June

After game night with the guys, things had gone back to normal. You didn’t steal glances his way, not wanting to somehow chance catching his eye.

You decided to move on from it as though it hadn’t happened. Blame it all on the alcohol.

Except—you remembered every detail. The feeling of him touching you, you touching him

. . . The way it felt to hold eyes with him, almost as though you were both waiting for more.

But you pushed it down.

And Jake must have forgotten or pushed it all to the side as well.

Because, there was absolutely zero movement on his end to make conversation or change the way of things.

-🌼🌼🌼-

For the first part of June, Jake was hardly home.

Since you really didn’t see him, it was easier to pretend he didn’t exist in your space and ignore him. You were glad to have the apartment to yourself.

You didn’t want him in your space.

You couldn’t help that you were a little curious as to where he was spending all of his time, though.

Almost every night, he was gone. And during the day, he would be gone to work, and you’d leave to work closing at the B&G before he got home. You would go to sleep without seeing him all day. You hardly bumped into him.

On the days you were there to witness it, he would come home from work for a total of about 15 minutes (sometimes less), and then leave with both of his beat-up guitar cases in tow.

It was odd, but you figured it probably had to do with his new job.

You really didn’t miss having him around at all.

-🌼🌼🌼-

But somehow, Jake still found a way to make his presence known.

About halfway through June, you started receiving random sticky notes from him. Reminder stickies, if you will.

The first was a surprise to you. It shouldn’t have been. He was naturally an asshole, after all.

You’d found it next to a used coffee cup of yours that was sitting in the sink.

No dirty dishes. It’s a rule. -Jake

You’d huffed and crumpled it into a ball before trashing it.

Then, you washed the cup. You wouldn’t be bested by him.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The second note rested atop a jar of applesauce you’d purchased for yourself. You saw it when you went to get a can of Coke Zero out of the fridge.

You slapped your forehead when you realized you hadn’t labeled it before you put it in the fridge.

You had a good idea of what his note would say.

Probably a good idea to label our groceries. God forbid we mix anything up. -Jake

You labeled the applesauce and then took that note, and ripped it in half.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The third was left on the bathroom door, right above a bra you’d stupidly left hanging there.

You were assuming it had been after a longer shift you’d come home from when you took it off. You hadn’t even thought of it at the time.

Probably best to not keep our undergarments laying around. New rule? -Jake

That sticky pissed you off the most. (And, no, it wasn’t because of any embarrassment you were feeling—he just made you that angry).

How did he have the right? You were fuming.

In your fury, you’d grasped the piece of clothing so quickly and roughly that it had ripped. And it had been an expensive bra, too.

Thanks for that, Jake, you’d thought.

Thankfully, he hadn’t been home. So, when you made a noise that went from growl to piercing scream, he hadn’t gotten the chance to revel in your frustration.

You were so close to your limit with him.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were ready to be around your family when the time came towards the middle of June. It was your grandma’s birthday, and Elsie would be in town to celebrate.

You needed to see your sister. Fill her in on your ridiculous roommate and get her wise advice.

You were putting a couple of records you’d bought for your grandmother in a gift bag when you heard him humming on his way out behind you.

You didn’t know what came over you or why you cared to ask, but you turned to him. It was perfect timing, you caught him just as his hand was on the handle to leave.

“Where do you keep going?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He turned from facing the door to face you directly.

Then, he leveled you with a look over the tops of his sunglasses. He shook his head and let out a sigh as if totally put out, and set his cases down on either side of him. He tucked a hand into one pocket and used the other to push his shades into his hair. You tried not to watch all of this too closely; starting with the way his glasses pushed his locks back just right.

But you couldn’t help yourself. Every action seemed to be measured out flawlessly. And, you’d learned that he looked good doing anything.

You hated how attractive he was—how easy he was to watch.

Once you could fully see his eyes, you realized that he was giving you a look similar to the one you were serving him. “Why do you have to know?”

“We have roommate things to discuss, and there’s never time to do it because you’re always gone,” you were making shit up on the spot.

“‘Roommate stuff’?” He raised a brow at you.

“Yeah,” you were spitballing. “Like bills and stuff.”

He rolled his eyes. “I leave my money for the payments on the counter,” he retorted, pointing to something behind you. When you looked to where he was pointing, you saw a fresh envelope sitting on the bar behind you. You didn’t let it phase you. You could have slapped yourself for not noticing it was there before now.

It made you look irresponsible. . .and you hated looking irresponsible.

A smirk grew on his face at your lack of reply; like he knew something you didn’t. “You miss having me around? Hm?”

You tried to keep your cool, but you felt your face heat. You didn’t miss him. You didn’t know why you were having this reaction. You snorted to hide it. “I could care less about you being here,” you argued. “In fact, it’s kind of nice to have you gone. I get to pretend I still live alone.”

You heard a horn honk down below, and it was unmistakably Josh’s squeaky, tired one.

“Why is Josh here?” You wondered aloud.

Jake eyed you for a second, then responded, “He’s picking me up.”

“To go where?” Then you had a lightbulb brighten above your head. “Have you been with him all these nights?”

“And it’s your business how?”

It really wasn’t your business; he was right. He could do what he wanted. There was no valid reason why you needed to know what he was doing in his own spare time. You didn’t know why you were so curious. It didn’t matter.

You refused to show that he’d smarted you. Your chest was tight with whatever emotion it was you were feeling. “Whatever. I don’t care. I was just wondering,” you turned your back as your sign that you were done talking to him. “Tell him I said hi.”

He made a noise that sounded like ‘mhm,’ and then you heard the door open and close for him.

Your shoulders loosened once he was gone, and you released a sigh. You lifted a hand to feel your cheeks. And to your dismay, they were still hot.

Absolutely ridiculous.

-🌼🌼🌼-

In a quaint little town just outside Brooklyn, your grandparents’ house sat, never changing. It was stuck in time; it still looked and smelled the same as it had when you and Elsie initially came to live with them 12 years ago. The maroon walls and fruit-filled wallpaper border, the same as always.

You stood with Elsie in the kitchen. You were each cooking your own part of your Grandma’s favorite: Tortellini Carbonara. You worked on the pasta and vegetables while Elsie worked on the sauce.

“Els, it’s terrible,” you said as you stirred the pasta steadily. “He makes me absolutely insane.”

Elsie set her sauce to simmer, and stepped to the side to work on the dump cake that would wind up being the birthday cake.

“What’s so bad about him?” she questioned.

“Where do I begin?” You chuckled sarcastically. “He’s just an asshole. Ever since his first time stepping foot into the apartment, he’s treated me like I’m scum.”

“Scum? Y/N, do you think you’re being a little

. . .dramatic?” She gave you a look that almost put you in your place, but then Jake’s face came to your mind and you were heated all over again.

“No! He has only been rude to me,” you huffed. And while that wasn’t completely true, you needed to make a point.

Elsie scooted in front of you, and you made enough room in front of the oven for her to put the dump cake in. She then set the timer on the microwave and stepped away to check her work phone. She really only glanced at it, and then looked back at you.

“You wouldn’t believe he’s Josh Kiszka, Actual-Sunshine-In-Human-Form’s, brother,” you carried the tortellini to an oven mitt that was laying out while you searched for a strainer. “They’re twins, even. . .Josh calls him the moon to his sun. But I think he’s more like the moon that comes during a solar eclipse that makes the whole world fucking dark and dreary.”

Elsie giggled at that, “Wow. . . Sounds depressing.”

“It is, Elsie!” You clanged around a bit longer, making more noise than you probably needed to. But Elsie refusing to understand was firing you up. Finally, “Ugh, found it.”

You went about straining the pasta’s water while Elsie checked on your vegetables.

She spoke from the stove across the kitchen. “Like you said, he’s Josh’s twin brother,” her voice sounded dreamy when she said Josh’s name. Elsie had it just as bad for Josh as he did for her. She just refused to admit it. You didn’t know why she was so stubborn. “There has to be some good in him. Why did he move to live with you anyway? I haven’t gotten the full scoop.”

You mixed some olive oil in with your noodles and then moved to check on Elsie’s cake.

“Messy breakup with his girlfriend,” you felt remorse for being so cold about him when you remembered all of the details Josh had told you. You couldn’t help it when your heart dropped a bit. “She cheated on him, even though he was selfless enough to follow her, leave his brothers, and give up anything he may have wanted in life.”

She gasped, “Are you kidding me? She’s the terrible one,” she took your vegetables off the heat and carried them to the pasta while you grabbed the sauce to follow her to the pan on the mitt. “He’s just hurting. Any way he’s acting now is just a reaction to the trauma of that breakup.”

“Trauma?”

She bugged her eyes. “Y/N, you know first hand that trauma comes in many, many forms,” she leveled you with a look, reaching forward to squeeze your shoulder. “Give him some grace.”

You sighed and relented a little. “I have seen a few positive things come out in him recently.”

“Like what?” She grinned, like she knew a secret. You ignored that.

“He’s actually been pretty good about following our apartment rules—even taking it upon himself to remind me of a few. . .y’know, for shits and giggles,” you scrunched up your face to show your annoyance at that. Elsie squeaked a laugh. “Josh had mentioned he’s not really one for ‘being okay’ with rules set before him, and he honestly accepted the ones I made pretty well.”

“That you made?” She gave you a look. “Did he get to add any of his own?”

“He didn’t want to,” you shook your head.

She blew out a breath. “Wow. Any man I’ve ever dated has never respected any rules I’ve set.”

You blanched at the comparison to her past flings. “First of all, Elsie, we are not dating.”

She rolled her eyes and continued as if you hadn’t interrupted. “The ones I get with only ever act like I’m always wrong and they’re in the right. And that’s toxic. If he isn’t like that. . .I think you’ve got a good one.”

“I don’t have a ‘good’ anything. It’s not a relationship,” you corrected. Why was she being so dense? And why was your stomach fluttering at the term ‘relationship’? Absurdity. “He’s my roommate. But I guess you’ve got a point with the other stuff,” you agreed. “He’s really just been pushing me away. Jerk? Yes. But he hasn’t been straight up disrespectful— save for the first night. You can ask Josh yourself.”

“He’s never given me his number,” she looked down to her purple painted toenails momentarily, then looked back up. “Or else I would.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. You didn’t want to expose his massive crush on accident by saying something out of turn. So, instead, you decided you needed to call your grandparents in from their gardening outside. The food was going to get cold if you didn’t act too soon.

Besides, you were getting uncomfortable thinking of how Jake truly wasn’t as impossible as you’d mentally made him out to be. You’d never slowed down and given yourself time to think of his past. You just jumped to every negative conclusion possible.

And why had you conveniently left out anything about game night when talking with Elsie?

You looked at the timer on the microwave and saw that it said the cake had about 30 minutes left.

You motioned a thumb at the window that looked out onto the flower bed your grandparents were tending to. “Let’s go tell them dinner’s ready.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Dinner had been filled with talk of your schooling and Elsie’s career as a traveling journalist.

And as you left, all three of your family members encouraged you to keep writing. At dinner, you’d divulged your lack of doing so this summer.

You didn’t know why, but your writing hadn’t been a priority lately. You’d been consumed with making sure the record store was up to par.

All things music had been at the front of your mind.

Music had been your first passion, after all. Your first core memory was of hearing a Stevie Wonder song. You couldn’t remember which one—only the groove that could only be classified as a Wonder tune. Hence the sentimentality of your cat’s name.

Though, you’d never felt the courage to pursue music as your career. You always felt like it was more of just a silly desire that would be pushed to the side as a ludicrous idea. Your grandpa had always been an avid lover of it as well, but he’d advised to not pursue it as a career, and to find a more sensible path in life.

So, you had ended up pursuing journalism—just like Elsie. And to be fair, when you’d chosen your major, you’d wanted to do everything she did. But now, (ironically) being almost done with your degree, you were realizing that journalism wasn’t everything you’d cracked it up to be.

It was fun, but you didn’t live and breathe it the way you did the nostalgic melodies of music. But your grandpa’s words were always in the back of your mind.

So, when you got home, you went about getting a notebook out and turned up your favorite 1970s-themed playlist to inspire your written words.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Will you please give me some kind of clue?”

You followed Josh to the door of the store. You were coming in to close the B&G; he’d opened that day.

And just like in his brother, you’d become more of a passerby in Josh’s life these days.

The more you’d thought of it, you realized that you had been working a lot of closing shifts. Josh had started a pattern of opening most days since the first part of June. And he was always in a rush to leave when you came in to cover close. He usually only gave you a quick hug with barely any words.

Ever since you’d found out he was the one picking Jake up from your apartment that night, you’d started clicking pieces together. They had both been consistent with being these fleeting forces. Present one minute, gone the next—seeming to always be on a mission.

The situations were too similar to not suspect something was amuck.

You were fed up with feeling excluded from something happening in his life. You needed to know what it was.

So, you'd been trying to get information out of Josh. . .but he wouldn’t give it up.

“Y/N, you’ll know soon enough,” he gave a reassuring smile. You sighed in the most theatrical way, which only made his smile grow. “It’s too soon to tell anything.”

“Not even your best friend?” You gave him the biggest puppy dog eyes you could.

And still, “Not yet, Y/N,” he winked. “Just wait,” his soft hand lightly kneaded your shoulder. “I’ve gotta go.”

You watched him leave.

As soon as he was out of eyesight, you stomped to the ‘Featured’ wall and changed it to spite him. You were beyond frustrated with the secrecy.

-🌼🌼🌼-

One night, you forced yourself to write again.

When you’d gotten home and Jake was (of course) gone, you took that as an initiative to turn up the music a little louder than normal.

You ended up getting consumed in writing this made up story based upon The Beatles’ ‘Mother Nature’s Son.’

In the story, the main character was a mysterious man with long hair that had let the world guide him in his ventures. The world had opened up these opportunities that were so perfectly aligned to the man’s desires. Mother Nature was his guide on his journey, letting him release himself to the power of a true destiny. The intense power that only she could—.

A harsh knock against your door thundered through your thoughts. Initially, due to natural shock, it made a tiny scream burst through your chest.

“Can you turn down the fucking music?!” Jake was back, yelling against the beautiful sounds of The White Album. You growled to yourself, angry that he was back to ruin all sense of your serenity. “The walls are thin, remember?!”

You threw the spiral notebook, and in your haste it hit the wall with a thud. You pressed the pause button on your phone, making your Bluetooth speaker silent. You jerked your door open.

You stopped for a second. You hadn’t seen him for a few days, and your mind naturally had to readjust to the sight of him.

God, you wished he was ugly.

You let your exasperation at his rude interruption fuel you, “Really?!”

You stepped out of the doorway, forcing him to take his own step backward. You didn’t need his dark aura clogging up the safe place of your bedroom. You closed the door behind you.

You continued, “You’re allowed to bring a woman back here on the night we establish the rules and make sure to warn me that you’re going to make her get loud, but I can’t play my music?!” You aimed a thumb in the direction of your bedroom, behind you. “At least music is something we both enjoy. I don’t really enjoy the idea of you fucking a girl right next door to me.”

His eyes widened. “Oh?” He stepped a little closer and your heart thudded in your chest. “You jealous, Y/N?”

You pushed him back by his bare chest, exposed from his lack of buttoning. His skin was so warm, you wanted to keep touching it, but instead, you flung your hand back as though he’d burned you.

“Jealous?” You scoffed, looking momentarily to the side to gain grounding. “Jake, give me a fucking break. What would give you the idea that I would in any way be jealous of that?”

His eyebrows raised and after he tucked his hair behind his ears, he crossed his arms across his smooth chest. “You couldn’t keep your hands off of me at game night.”

“You just answered your cute little musing, Jake. You called it what it was: game night,” you set a steady gaze on him. “It was a stupid game,” you put a hint of viciousness in your tone to get your point across for your next words. “It meant nothing.”

His mouth pursed closed and his jaw clenched, but it didn’t last long. He schooled his features soon enough and looked at you with overly-calm eyes. He raised his hands up. “Fine,” he backed up a step. “I won’t bring women back here if you keep your damn music turned down.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning in disbelief. “It’s music,” you walked towards him once more. “We both love music. What’s the harm if it’s something both of us love?”

“Sorry,” he placed one tan boot in your direction and rubbed at his chin. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t love sex?”

You blinked a few times at his words. Had he really just. . .? Your heart fluttered and your teeth ground together. “It’s not the same.”

He chortled at you, “Oh, Y/N,” your name said in his raspy register almost instantly made your cheeks heat. Your mind felt cloudy as he came up to you, almost touching his front to yours. He smoothed some hair behind your ear which caused you to shiver. You felt his breath on your face with his next words. “I think it’s just the same.”

His hand stayed resting on your head behind your ear. You even felt his thumb rubbing at your scalp. It felt so nice, your eyes almost fluttered closed.

But you kept your eyes open and trained them on him, “Fine,” you breathed at him. “No loud music.”

He grinned at you. Except this time, it felt softer. “No loud sex.”

“No sex,” you repeated.

And as soon as the word left your lips, reality hit you at how close he was. Your eyes widened and you instantly took a step back. Your back made a thumping noise against the door to your room, and that sound caused him to take his own steps back.

“I’m just—,” he picked up the cases he’d sat just outside the hallway. You watched his ass in his black jeans as he turned and bent down to pick them up. You caught yourself licking your lips at the stretch of his jeans. But as soon as he turned around, you readjusted. “Going to bed.”

He looked at you with a loaded stare just briefly, and then escaped to the short trek down the hallway to his own room.

You stared in his direction, even after his door had shut.

And when Stevie came to rub her soft gray fur against your shin, you jolted. You looked down at her precious form and remembered you needed to feed her.

And while you were getting her food ready, you remembered something else: you did not have any feelings for Jake.

And whatever that had been was completely against your own imaginary rule. You could not cross that boundary with him.

You didn’t even want to.

At least. . .that’s what you told yourself as you went to bed that night.

-🌼🌼🌼-

A guitarist’s fingers had to be so skilled.

In more ways than one.

Calloused fingertips that had recently held your arm were between your legs, touching you just right. Feeling you exactly how you needed to be felt.

The familiar pointer finger massaged the inside of your folds while the thumb reached up to nudge the underside of your clit, rubbing it, encouraging it.

And then a tongue joined the pointer finger that was going through your soft folds. He fit his tongue so it curled right into your most secret place.

Your back arched and your calves came to cross against a bare, tan back. A tanned back that was still wet from a shower. You reached up to touch your hair, which was wet.

You’d showered together.

“How do I taste, baby?” You sighed down to the man who was on his stomach between your legs.

His face was hidden, blocked by something you couldn’t process in that moment. But when you saw his head come up, Amber-brown eyes met your own. They were filled with lust, hooded in your direction.

Jake. You sighed with relief at it being him.

His long hair fanned against your legs, and he removed his hands momentarily to move up your body and kiss your stomach, so delicately.

“In every way, you are perfect,” he affirmed.

You flushed a little smile his way, but your clit throbbed for more.

“Jake, please,” you moaned.

And without needing any more direction, he was back at work between your legs. Except, this time, his tongue was what nudged against the underside of your sensitive nub and his fingers continued to take turns working in and out of you.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The next morning, you woke up in a sweaty mess of sheets.

You’d dreamt of him again. . .and this time, it had been much, much worse.

And taking care of the tingling feeling between your already-shaking legs was your first assignment that day.

Before your feet ever touched the ground that morning, you’d very quietly sighed Jake’s name as your fingers worked your pussy to the point of an amazing release.

When you came down from your high, you laid on top of your comforter. You needed cool air to wash over you. You pondered the thoughts that had entered your mind. You really hadn’t been able to help it. They’d come so naturally and it had felt so right. You didn’t know what was going to come next.

What in the sweet hell was happening to you?

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i'll give you one guess what the boys are up to ;)

let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist! also, if you changed your username and it's not tagging because of that, please let me know and i'll update it!!

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @katelynn-gvf, @gretavansara (even if it seemed to refuse to tag, i still tried - ugh! i apologize for any weirdness of the tagging. if i missed you, please let me know! i think i included everyone, but it's def possible i accidentally left someone out.)

#jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #greta van fleet fic #josh kiszka fic #sam kiszka #danny wagner #jake fic #covet #my fics

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kookieswan · 1 year

Text

Through Dying Stars - Genesis

Alien!BountyHunter!Jimin x DeliveryGirl!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Genre: Alien AU, BountyHunter AU, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Nonsexual NSFW/18+, Angsty, Slow Burn.

Warnings: MC gets roughed up a little but nothing too bad/descriptive. Jimin isn’t a nice guy, neither are Bangtan. Use of weapons (guns). Many of the characters are morally gray in this story. Please be warned!

Summary: It takes everything in you not to curse your crew mates to hell as the annoyingly large man smashes you into the wall. You can only begin to guess what you did to get Bangtan on your ass. Fuck.

Notes: SO. A new series is born and I’m very excited about it. I hope you all like it. I’ll be doing a taglist for it I think; all I ask is that you have your age indicated somewhere on your blog. I listened to Rosemary by Deftones while writing this chapter ⭐️

This Part I of the Through Dying Stars series. Find the Masterlist here ⭐️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What the fuck?!”

You’re awoken with a start, body violently tossed out of the plushness of your bed like a sack of potatoes. It takes a minute to grasp the situation, brain still clutching onto sleep like a lifeline after the night you’ve had. It doesn’t matter now though; you’re on the floor and definitely pissed off even if you can barely function. You thought that it had been agreed on that Tae would never man the ship again but apparently people want to play games.

Blinking slowly, the events slowly come back to you, a frown etching itself onto your face. You’re not sure what it’s been lately but Namjoons been taking on some more high profile jobs for Stellar Delivery Co. and it’s been taking its toll. Your body feels heavy, your mind scrambled as you roll to get up. Another day, another delivery you guess.

Standing up from the cold ground, you halt as the ship shakes again and the lights flicker in and out sporadically. Squinting your eyes, you grab for your bedside table, quickly pulling the communicator close to your lips. Something clearly isn’t right here, and as much as you’d rather be sleeping, you have to make sure it’s being taken care of lest you all die in a terrible explosion or something. That would be tragic and a little lame.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Speaking into the communicator gets you absolutely nothing in response, meaning that the ships in autopilot right now most likely. Had the others really managed to sleep through that jolt…? There’s no way. Changing the signal, you decide to call for Joon first since he’ll likely have the most answers.

“Joon…? Joon, come in.” Again, there’s no response, but that doesn’t necessarily worry you. Perhaps he’s actually decided to rest, it’s been days since he last slept if you’re remembering correctly. The man sleeps like a log, you had mistaken him for dead the first time you experienced it which is still traumatic to think about. Grumbling a bit, you try for Tae since Yoongi is likely actually dead to the world if it really is that late.

“Tae…? What the hell is happening right now…” Deciding it’s in your best interest to just go check after more radio silence. You pull on your cargo jacket over the little clothes you’ve worn to bed along with your communicator, feeling intensely wary was the lights continue to struggle to stay on.

Walking over to your door and peeking out of your room, a quick look down the hallway gives no indication of what’s happened. There’s not a soul in sight, your three other crew members apparently absent from the bunk area. Glancing down at your wrist as you rub away the remainder of sleep in your eyes, you note that it’s nearly 4am which makes the terrible feeling in your stomach grow worse. You knew it was late but not that damn late…

Stepping out, you hiss quietly as your bare feet are met with the cool ground of the ship. These assholes are really going to owe you after this; you had mentioned getting carpets but no. Maybe with some whining and pouts Joon will take you back to Ecalaxar for a shopping spree if you save everyone from a terrible fate. The thought makes you smile just barely, and with that, you start down the hall toward the cockpit.

Sadly, you don’t manage to get more than three steps down the corridor before you hear him.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” The man’s accented voice is unfamiliar and much too excited. Much too fucking giddy to be normal, and it’s the final red flag the goes off in your head to piece everything together.

Someone’s broken into the damn ship.

Someone got past all the security. Someone got past all three of your crew members. And now, that someone is coming to get you as well.

Thanking the stars that you chose not to wear any shoes, you slip down the hallway away from the voice, your feet barely making a sound as you do. The ship has multiple small closets scattered about for storage, and even if they’re not meant for it they’ll make a wonderful hiding spot. You could fight, sure, but you don’t have your blaster and who knows what this man can do. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll also give you time to figure out a plan.

Sliding your hand against the walls as you walk, you try not to panic as you hear heavy footsteps approaching the bunk area. It takes everything in you not to gasp in relief as you arrive at the closet, turning the handle as slowly as possible. Just as you slip in, the voice calls out again.

“I know you’re around here somewhere, little girl. If you come out, I won’t hurt you too bad. If you keep hiding, well…” It’s gross how it’s strangely soft, almost teasing in nature, but the sinister tone doesn’t escape you. The closet is pitch black, a mind is cute amount of light coming through the cracks from the hallway.

Had the others got away? Had they been captured? Are they alright? Too many questions race through your mind as you hold your breath, the footsteps outside of the door echoing like space storm. You hear doors open and close, the man checking each of your rooms to see if anyone’s around. Maybe being thrown out of your bed was a blessing in disguise.

Blessings don’t last forever though. They never do. No, not for you.

“_____, you need to fucking hide right this very instant, fucking Bangtan of all people are-“ The panicked voice of Yoongi cracks through your communicator and then abruptly cuts off. Bangtan…? Fuck. Fuck. The footsteps have stopped and everything is silent before you burst out of the closet in a sad attempt to save yourself. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, an apparent member of fucking Bangtan, as you sprint out. He’s tall and dressed in black, body covered head to toe in it, gun held easily at his side. A fucking nightmare walking.

“AH, there you are!” The footsteps are thunderous again, loud as he chases you down, your thoughts much too scattered to come up with a solid escape plan. A scream bubbles in your throat just as you try to round the corner at the end of the hall which quickly turns into a choked sound as he slams his body into yours, effectively smooshing you between the wall and himself. You swear you hear something crack and you wouldn’t be surprised if it was one or six of your ribs.

Struggling against him as his hand wraps tightly around your wrists, you whine as he draws in closer, your cheek smashed into the wall. Trying to kick back is futile, his own legs locking your into place as you buck back against him which makes him fucking laugh. It’s only when you feel the cold tip of his gun caress your temple that you finally stop struggling. You’ve been bested. Fuck.

“Caught you.”

#through dying stars #jimin x you #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #jimin angst #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x reader #bts angst #bts alien au

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wytfut · 1 year

Text

Small view..

This has been hanging around in my itty bitty head for years, and haven’t still to this day have a controlled handle on it... because I still do it. And really don’t understand it.

First saw this in my Pop back in the late 90′s. It actually pissed me off a bit when he do it. As he aged, his temper would show, rarely, but it did. In public he was notorious making “cute” comments to specific unknown service people all to the embarrassment to family members (mostly my Mom). Now I understand, as I’ve experienced it myself many times.

Pop, with age would sometimes (possibly mood at the moment) could get very pissy, with folks (even family) about the stupidest stuff. Stuff that made no sense to react with any emotion. As I keep catching myself in this same boat, I know in his head it made sense to do it.... I do it.

Why do I recognize this in my Pop, but I really don’t recognize it in other people in my life.... people I see frequently, or have in my past?

Don’t take these comments badly of my Pop.... he was a great guy, an original. I’m just using him as an example, I expect we all endure at one time or another.

Here I am doing the same thing.

Many examples;

Calling a “tech help” center, in need of help, or advice.... and the answering party’s English is less than acceptable. Or i just can’t hear them.

Why does the “F++++++G” floor have to be so far away????

I’ll hear a conversation, and have this uncontrolled urge to speak on the subject, that adds absolutely nothing to the conversation. And most of the time go ahead and speak up.

Staring at a new to me new card reader at the stores counter.

Rude people/ignorant people, well, they act like they are.. . Not just driving.... everyday in all of society dailies.

What I value (objects), and what others value (junk).

Trying your hardest to have everyone you meet, like/love you.... with wasted efforts.

My Wife is going out of her way to pick a fight with me... Why? What did I do? Am I doing this to her?

Not getting respect, for which some not understood reason, I feel entitled too....

Popping off really mad with someone, you really like/love. Waste of effort.

Shying away from past people/events, with no reason. Again, wasted effort.

Disappointed in myself with things I do and know I should not, but still continue. Habit? OCD? Just being an asshole?

Just because I do it this way, DOESN’T REALLY mean that its the correct way to do it.

Am I as polite as I truly believe I am, or am I just polite when its easy for me? Or is my head just interpreting it as being polite?

I've come up with some possible reasons (these make sense?):

I’m one of the OLD guys now. A blue hair. Crinkled up face and hands. WTH is that guy in the mirror?? Things just don’t flow thru my brain near as smoothly as they used to. Young people don’t notice me as much, ummm, I’m now in the background or wall paper. I still have extraordinary core strength for my age, but my youth super strength is gone (the mad linesman strength). But my habitual mind says I’m still young.

I’m hard of hearing. My sight isn’t perfect. I hurt... regularly.

Life moves too fast to comprehend everything.

I feel I am due respect, as I do know about at least a couple of things. I’ve stumbled around the block quite a few times.

Fear of losing reality.... be it dementia, or any other reason. Being easily confused.

Can’t remember a 2 minutes ago memory, but can remember things 50 years ago like yesterday, most likely not accurately.

Life long, generally an up person, finding I can be moody at times more often. Never had an anxiety attack until I was over 50. This is the same guy that could be seen standing knee deep in blood and guts, and just walk away after it was over and deal with it.

And daily stress we all encounter apparently affects us old dudes differently.

Not understanding what is being presented to me. Hell not even knowing what question to ask so I can understand. I want to understand, but have no clue what? English isn’t a perfect language, and most people do not have the skills to use it to its most effective way. Being fluent and efficient in your speech, isn’t always the best way to get a point across.

And obviously not recognizing the real world that other people have lives too. That just maybe, these folks are being bombarded by the very same things as me (really??). The sun doesn’t rise and set on my personal ass. Its not me me me...

I’ll try harder to avoid my reactions to these scenarios. I really will try to recognize the “que’s” when I’m derailing. Going to try and understand, that people do respect me, even without showing/saying it. People do know what I’m about, and hopefully still appreciate me for being who I am. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be Bruce... and not a sheep. That took a lot of work/time. I’ll make efforts to be patient with everyone, and appreciate their point of view/action.

Small mind syndrome seems to be epidemic these days. But it just could be me..

To the day I die... I’m never going to understand this phenomenon of living daily with all these “other” people. Every time I think I have “IT” all figured out.... SURPRISE!!! you don’t know shit, FOOLED YA. LOL!!!

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s0leander · 5 months

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Boyfriend Material - Alexis Hall (2020)

This book has been compared to Red, White and Royal Blue on a few occasions in book circles, and frankly I do not understand how anyone would come to that conclusion. Everything about this book reads like a bad fanfiction or roleplay session someone wrote when they were twelve. From the one dimensional stereotypical characters, to the confusing prose (if you can even call it that at this point) the tired tropes and idea soup, it is more similar to an old "crack fic" you'd find on fanfiction.net.

The writing itself is bland and often confusing when it isn't downright boring. Thoughts that aren't spoken aloud are written in quotations right next to things that are said out loud. Two characters share a name (James Royce-Royce) with no distinction between the two in scenes where they both have dialogue. It's atrocious and- while I don't wish to rain on anyone's parade -I cannot fathom how this book has so much praise. Did all our brain cells collectively die out before we could review it or did people simply put the book down and walk away, trying to will it from our minds? There seems to be more focus on the comedic aspect of the book that I almost want to think that Alexis Hall wrote this in order to troll us all.

Let's start with Luc O'Donnell, our all-too-angsty protagonist who is reminiscent of a teenager with severe self worth and mental health issues. If an asshole is aware that they are an asshole does that make them any less of one or more of an asshole? If I had to answer in the case of Luc I'd easily choose the latter. He spends most of the book hating himself, making crude jokes, being an all around nightmare to be around, and talking to the reader as opposed to interacting with the man he apparently falls in love with. Luc's also the son of two 80's rockstars, I guess? His father walked out on them as a child which is most of what he bases his dreadful personality on. It's also a major plot point at one time in the book all the way up until it isn't anymore with no real climax or denouement, which is quite unfortunate because if this book had any depth at all it would have been interesting but that is sort of the theme with Boyfriend Material.

Oliver Blackwood is the only saving grace of this book (for the most part). He's a lot like if a singular normal person with far too much patience was put on a reality TV show with the most ridiculous people you've ever met. The stark contrast between him and all the other characters gives me whiplash at the very best of times. His vast vocabulary proves that Hall can write somewhat interesting sentiments without using yassified dated internet terminology and simply chooses not to.

All of the characters, specifically Luc's friends, some form of stereotype and have no real value in the story aside from taking up space and doing whatever Luc needs them to do for him at any given time. All of his friends have somewhat elaborate backstories that are never really expanded upon beyond getting mentioned every now and again in passing. He often ignores other characters unless he can get something out of it or needs something from them (this briefly changes and then continues on subtly) and only hyper fixates on Oliver because he can instead base his worth on a man which is inherently toxic. Luc's boss is every stereotype of a person on the autism spectrum thrown into one. The list goes on.

The vast majority of this book consists of one character being awful to everyone around him, especially the man he supposedly fancies while the latter just allows it to go on. There's no real pining, no significant conflict, no relationship building or anything to denote a true enemies to lovers arc or even a strangers to lovers arc. There is no build up to their relationship, it simply spawns up out of seemingly nowhere after Luc spends a good chunk of the book being in half assed denial about his feelings and Oliver just continues to be a semi-regular guy who's just sort of along for the ride. Why in the world is this book 400+ pages aside from the fact that the author clearly picked several ideas out of a hat and just ran with it, stringing it along together as they went?

I'm not even going to get started on how and why this book is problematic because the one star reviews before mine have done a fantastic job of illustrating that point. The concept is intriguing but the overall story felt like one long slow walk towards nothing and I am genuinely glad that it's over.

#fiction #romance #queer #book review #review #i don't mean to drag it but man #come on #bad books #book #things that shouldn't have sequels #pandemic publish #boyfriend material #alexis hall #luc o'donnell #oliver blackwood #queer romance #lgbt #crossposted from goodreads #m/m

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taechaos · 3 years

Text

Silent Treatment

from Textbook Love drabble series

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.

warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation

word count: 4.2k

tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie

a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗

The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.

You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing.

A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it.

“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”

Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.

Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you.

You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back.

“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.

Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.

“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”

Said boy only grunts in response.

“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”

The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”

“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.

He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”

A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.

“No,” he murmurs.

“Then…?”

“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”

“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look. “How long was the interaction anyway?”

“Like 30 seconds.”

“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”

“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.

“Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything.

You didn’t do anything.

It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.

“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”

“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”

“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”

“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.

“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question.

He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.

A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.

“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.

“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.

“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”

“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.

There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?

He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.”

“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.

“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”

“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”

“Jungkook.”

He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”

He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.

“She’s in room 124… Why?”

When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur.

Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor.

He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm.

You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.

“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”

He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”

You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”

You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.

“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”

You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”

He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.

“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”

He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.

Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.

All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”

You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts.

“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.

“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.

His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”

“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”

You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.

Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.

After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.

The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”

#bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #bts fic #jungkook fic

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deviltoys · 3 years

Text

— ‘𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗼𝘆.’

sakusa kiyoomi x top!male reader. (wc; 1.7k)

#a/n: lolol self-indulgent sakusa fic because i wanna breed him so bad. this is painfully horrible and short but hopefully enough to feed everyone for the time being!

warnings. NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DNI, blindfold, overstimulation, breeding k., frat!au, gangbang, dubcon turned con, belly bulge, cum inflation, no aftercare, manipulation, sex slavery, implied somnophila.

joining the most prominent fraternity on campus was the last thing on his mind. sakusa struggled immensly when it came to social interaction, he even took extra precautions to avoid having to exchange any dialogue between peers. especially a bunch of guild boys who could barely keep their heads attached to their shoulders; but atsumu had somehow convinced him to give it a shot.

according to the miya twin, he needed to push past this boundaries and explore his comfort threshold a little more. the perfect place to do just that? a frat house. who's more loud and rowdy than a couple of douchebag adults trying to assert their alpha-ness by hosting a copious amount of house parties.

as much as he beseeched and argued against it, the frat scene had him hook, line and sinker. and soon, the unbearable pull of charming guys passing around pamphlets for recruitment day had caught up to him.

the hall of residence was a lot more alluring that media would lead on. he was pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness and charm of the home; the parade of shirtless guys crowding around the hobby room only added a sense of authenticity to the whole ordeal.

after he was plucked into the roster of other men trying their hand at slipping a way into the frat life of their dreams. the initiation was on the horizon, and sakusa’s overwhelming social anxiety from the day prior came flooding right back into his system. he had forgotten the most important rule about a brotherhood, proving your worth and loyalty to your new family.

the two paths you could choose to go down were no bed of roses— the first opportunity was to streak and sprint down the length of the campus yard. or a play special game, in which your fellow brothers would surprise you with.

no way in hell would he sacrifice his dignity by stripping down bare and humiliating himself in front of the entire university. his education was on the line, he had a reputation to uphold; the only option was to partake in whatever the sorority had waiting for him.

that's where you came in, merely handing the dark-haired male a piece of cloth to don around his eyes. the last thing he could recall about his surroundings was the eeriely warm yet sadistic expression you gave him— his vision melting into a blur of black when the blindfold made contact his skin.

“just find a place to sit on one of the couches, my brothers’ll be with you soon.” your tone was low and gravely, the remainder of his senses were heightened due to his loss of vision. his ears exploding with your voice and your voice only, he felt the flesh on his cheeks bleed from pink to red; praying you wouldn't notice his shift in attitude.

“ye- yeah.. okay, thanks.”

your footsteps faded into the backdrop, signalling him to begin his search for the couch. he'd rather die than have you watch him scramble around the room like a headless chicken. he stumbled around a little, as predicted— bumping into furniture here and there before his hips knocked into a pool table frequently used for beer pong.

his hands feel around the object in an attempt to slip past it, amongst all the chaos he's experiencing he's dimly aware of the presence of a group of people. the scuffling of shoes against the hardwood floors only solidify his suspicions, but before he's able to call out to you; or anyone. heavy pressure is placed atop his shoulder blades— the curve of hips lace into the divit of his ass until he's pressed against the table.

the silence drifting around the open space between your bodies isn't broken, nobody dare mumbles a sound. your broad palms slink up the underside of his shirt, keeping a painfully slow pace up his chest until your fingers pinch the first nipple they come in contact with. your free hand snakes around his hip and dips into the hem of his jeans before making it's way into the waistband of his boxers.

his body shudders desperately, thighs bucking forward as your fist pumps around the length of his twitching cock. by the time he can gasp out a flurry of winces, two fingers that weren't there previously, poke and prod around his rim. devilishly forcing his walls to mold around them and shape room for a few more.

both of your hands now find a home around his hips. your groin, which is positioned at his rear, ruts the outline of your erect bulge against his ass— plowing the multitude of fingers already planted inside of him, deeper. this only entails that the fingers now wrapped around his cock, teasing his chest, and sinking into the depths of his rectum all belong to a different set of people.

he once more unclamps his jaw to sputter out more nonsense, only moaning once the warm, wet agitation of lips suck a dark mark into the curve of his collarbone. he's overcome with bliss, marveling in the way each frat member simultaneously toys with his sensitive body.

an abundance of hands fumble with his zipper, unbuckling the leather around his waist— unlooping the material before tossing it aside. you shove his pants down past his calves, releasing your grip on him so that you're able to abandon your own set of clothes. there's more rustling of clothes and clinking of belt buckles and your hands return to him once more, binding his arms and shoulders while gently bending him onto the table.

bracing for impact, he's pleasantly astonished when his chin and shoulders sink into something soft and pillowy. you were kind enough to replace the hard surface beneath him with one of the sofa cushions, strengthening his trust in you.

with his body now calm and relaxed with aura around the six of you, you take a few moments to prepare your cock to breed your good little fuck toy.

hot breath teases the meek, male’s ear; your monstrous cock pressing into puckered hole only making the lewd torture of the situation worse.

“miya told us you'd like to become our little breeder sakusa, we've had our eye on you for awhile. is this true? do you want us to pump your little womb full of our children?”

atsumu? he was the one who had him in this position, such a trusted friend making him seem special enough to catch the attention of these compassionate boys? maybe he was born to be a slave for cock. atsumu wouldn't lie to him, would he?

oh poor kiyoomi, if only he saw right through that twisted facade.

you growl into the shell of his ear, he figures that you're the one who's bending over his back; threatening to breach his fertile hole. being the head of the frat, you got first dibs on all the fresh meat brought in, it's sad you'd have to share this one with your brothers.

there's nothing sakusa has to resist with, he whimpers out a few noises before you're rewarded with a barade of nods. a rise of chuckles and quiet exclamations from the group feed through his brain— apparently all of your peers are patiently waiting for their own couple of minutes with him. silent vulgarites phase past your teeth as you impatiently card a hand through his thick curls. plunging into the boy with one fluid motion, your cock vanishes from sight, disappearing inside of his stomach.

his ebony iris’ screw shut behind the blindfold. you can feel the way his womb parts just for your cock, the slimey g-spot of his is completely ignored as you push past it; the fat head of your cock mercilessly drilling into his belly. your cock is on full display, the layers of flesh seperating you from the outside world bend and jiggle around the outline of your shaft.

“i sure do hope you have enough room for all of our cum in there.” your thrusts don't falter, not daring to give his poor, ruined prostate a breather. “because we're not stopping until every single one of us has had a chance to knock you up!”

with those final words rolling off your tongue, your hips snapped long and harsh strokes into his twitching hole— cum bursting at the seams of your slit, balls tightening and enlarging as the pent up pleasure and lust readied the fat sacks for release. sakusa feels his tummy bloom with the first batch of warmth, sticky ropes of seed shoot right inside. perfectly filling him up in preparation for the next cock eager to breed his tight ass!

so wonderful, his womb feels so full and claimed! a bright and hot flush pools across his face; without warning the next cock sinks even deeper than the last. more of the groups genes passing through him, mating the frat’s new bitch over and over again. he's hit by a wave of orgasms after the second brother slams himself nice and deep, pumping his seed inside him once more. his asshole greedily opening and closing to filter as much thick cum as humanly possible into his intestines. before he's able to come to his senses, he's already chubby with semen; happily inviting the next member to come and breed his stupid body.

the entire night is flooded with sounds of hiccuping, skin on skin contact, and the leaking of cum being deposited right back into sakusa. the incredible feeling of his frat brothers groping and touching him up have him cumming time after time— all night he's shuddering as another orgasm passes through his frame.

once he's positively gushing with cum and reduced to nothing but an overstimulated puddle of arousal— you scoop up his limp, bloated body, collecting the rest of your buddies before carrying him to his very own dorm. labeling his room, the ‘breeding room’. the sorority didn't let him waste a dime of time rejuvenating his body with sleep. they didn't want their new play thing to go to waste; he was awoken multiple times during the wee hours of the night. cock fitted tightly between his lavish cheeks.

he was certainly going to love it here, nothing but a obedient puppet.

#𓉔 — m.list #𓉔 — directory.#𓉔 — works.#c; sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x top male reader #sakusa kiyoomi x male reader #haiykuu x top male reader #haikyuu x male reader #sakusa kiyoomi #dark haikyuu #haikyuu smut #dark content #male dark blog

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

Nat😫😫😫 I'm just reading your naoya posts and I cant😫😫😫 why do I love this arrogant man😫 is it possible to write something of a connected fic to your arrangement story about how he feels jealous over a similarly docile reader (doesnt have to be connected if you dont want tho!!). like he hears about how the reader has been getting marriage proposals from other men since naoya hasnt given an affirmative to your family,,,, and now the reader is forced to consider other candidates (although she still cant atop thinking about our favourite princely asshole) and naoya cant handle this thought lol he deserves to know what angst and the pain of yearning tastes like😌 I hope this wasn't too confusing aaaa😭😭 I love your writing, and im glad youre in this jjk brain rot too🤧

patience - naoya x fem!reader (1.5k)

arrangement // patience // my jjk masterlist

warnings: naoya remains an asshole. submissive reader, arranged marriages, mentions of murder, talk of adultery. pining/angst. not sfw, minors dni!

naoya hates that he can’t stop thinking about you.

Naoya hates that he can’t stop thinking about you.

Oh, he’d meant it when he’d spat ‘pathetic’ and ‘useless’ and ‘worthless’ at you – your bloodline was unimpressive, your lack of cursed technique tragic, your clan elders absolutely idiotic for sending a nobody like you to tempt him. But . . . something about the look in your eyes, the meek little bow of your head, the way you’d listened to every one of his orders with a soft little gasp and a desire to follow them to the latter . . .

He hasn’t told your family that he’s not interested in you, but word gets around the jujutsu community when someone is looking for a spouse. After all, they’re determined to retain blood purity, to keep techniques in the bloodline – your family soon hear that Naoya is still considering all of his options. That other pretty young daughters from other bloodlines have been to see him.

(Naoya rejects them all, for frivolous reasons that he doesn’t want to admit are frivolous. He hadn’t liked the look in that one’s eyes. He didn’t want his children to inherit the colour of that one’s hair. That one had walked two steps behind him, not three--).

You haunt his thoughts. You and the bow of your head, the bite of your lip, the way you’d looked with tears brimming in your eyes. The suggestive curve of you beneath your kimono.

Ugh.

He hears, too, that your family have been exploring their other options. They’d seemed thrilled, at first, that Naoya hadn’t utterly swept you off the table – but six months have passed, and they want their daughter married and out of the house and fulfilling her duties.

He hears about your marriage proposals through that same grapevine. He hears that other men say you are pretty and quiet and obedient, that you will make a fine wife, that you will listen to commands and give soft smiles and raise children like you ought to--

And once, he smashes a glass from gripping it too hard as some nobody in the Kamo clan mentions that he’s going to ask your family for your hand in marriage.

You say no. He hears, too, that your elders are growing frustrated with your dismissals of proposals. They have left behind the thought of marrying you into the Zenin clan, but clearly you’re still clinging to the idea that Naoya might want you despite what he’d said.

He doesn’t, he tells himself, when he wraps his fist around his cock and pumps it and thinks about your look of surprise as his come splatters across your face.

He doesn’t, he tells himself, when he compares a young lady sent to entice him with you. When she looks him in the eye and he thinks that you would never do that, that you would keep your head bowed, that you’d be deferential as he needs you to be.

He doesn’t, he tells himself, as a servant cleans up the shards of glass that he shatters and he asks the Kamo clan member if perhaps he would like to spar, and he hits him just a little bit too hard so he ends up wheezing and doubled over on the training mats as Naoya stalks out of the room.

It’s not his style to pine. He has the pick of every eligible young lady in jujutsu society; he should not be hung up on such a worthless, pathetic little thing.

He hears of another proposal. This one, apparently, hasn’t been rejected straight-out – this one, you seem to be considering. Other members of the Zenin clan don’t understand why his jaw sets at the news.

“You didn’t want her, did you?” He asks. “You didn’t seem keen after the meeting.”

One of his other distant cousins, an upstart too big for his boots, grins.

“That was before she was hot property, though,” he leers at Naoya. “Our golden boy doesn’t like the idea of people coveting his trash--”

Naoya has struck him before he can think and stalked out of that room, too. Something about you has truly opened the can of worms that is Naoya’s violence, and he refuses to admit to himself that it’s because he wants you.

It’s not because you’re hot property – though, certainly, the way other men talk and laugh about you and the knowledge that you’re wanted serves to set a fire within him. It’s because he can’t stop thinking about you.

He tries courtesans. He chooses pretty, well-mannered ones who look a little like you – but their eyes when they look at him are glassy. They’re not the same as yours, brimming with life and want and confusion at the position you’ve found yourself in and the way your body responds to Naoya.

He doesn’t admit to his mistakes. He doesn’t think ‘I should have accepted the proposal, I should have joined the clans’ – instead, he thinks ‘I should have fucked them then and there. I should have made them scream my name until their reputation was ruined and everybody knew they came apart on my cock. It’s their fault that I can’t get them out of my brain.’

He walks with fists and teeth clenched and snaps at every servant who dare looks his way. Naoya has always been unpleasant, but he’s downright impossible with his spine in knots and his eyes narrowed.

He’s going to have to do it. He’s going to have to contact your family, ask for another audience, if only to get your fucking face out of his mind--

He’s not expecting to come across you before he’s even made the call, standing in one of the gardens of the Zenin estate. You’re wearing the same kimono you had first visited him in, and he hates that the sight of it makes a throb low in his belly as he remembers seeing it crumpled on his bedroom floor. He swallows as he stalks towards you and you turn, your pretty eyes widening – he sees the flash of memory, the flash of desire. He wonders if anybody would dare speak to him if he took you right here, in the garden--

An older man opens a door behind you.

Naoya recognises him only vaguely. The Zenin estate is swarming with various, less important Zenins; this one’s a great-uncle, perhaps? Or a cousin thrice removed? He’s someone unimportant in the grand scheme of things, save for the way that he walks up to you and wraps an arm around your waist.

“Ah,” the man with his hands on Naoya’s property says. “I see you’ve met my betrothed.”

His heart stops cold. He’s nobody. Unimportant. Nothing.

He’d called you the same thing; an ‘act of charity’. So why does the sight of an arm around you attached to a man too old and not powerful enough to be a threat make Naoya feel like he’s chewing rocks? Naoya manages to spit out a;

“Congratulations.”

“Yes,” the old man (great cousin? Naoya doesn’t make a habit to remember people he can’t use later on) says, pulling you closer, groping at your hip through the kimono as you keep a sedate, smile on your face without looking directly into Naoya’s eyes. “You’ll be seeing her around a lot. I hope she didn’t bother you.” A squeeze to your ass, this time, shameless. “Say hello to the future leader of the clan, sweetheart.”

(At least this man’s on Naoya’s side, he tries to console himself, but it doesn’t work.)

“H-hello, sir,” you say, and your voice is as tremulous as he remembers it. His cock stirs. He hates this.

“Sorry to bother you,” he inclines his head politely and tugs on your arm, pulling you away, leaving Naoya kissing his teeth and trying to not simply slit the man’s throat with the knife in his hakama and take you for his own.

What had the scum said? ‘You’ll be seeing her around a lot’. He supposes, then, that you’ll be sequestered in one of the other chambers in the Zenin estate--

A slow smile spreads across his face.

You wouldn’t say ‘no’ to your clan leader, would you? And . . . your future husband is old. Any Zenin is a Zenin, is it not? Even if a son is born with Naoya’s features, Naoya’s technique . . . nobody would say anything to him about it. And you’re in reach. Close to him.

He only needs to get you alone before the wedding to make sure he gets to take your maidenhead. He hates the thought of another man’s filthy hands on you, but accidents happen all of the time--

And then you’ll be a widow. You won’t be expected to marry for a while. And if you’ve already borne fruit and proved yourself – perhaps Naoya will even play the chivalrous leader and lower himself to take you for his own.

Yes. Just a little patience.

This is an arrangement he can get behind.

#naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya smut #naoya zenin smut #not sfw #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #writing #afab reader #fem pronouns #arranged marriage for ts #misogyny for ts #Anonymous

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emerald-chaos · 3 years

Text

Daydream

**gif not mine! credit to the owner**

So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.

Much love xo.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao

Fingers threaded into hair.

Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.

Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.

Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.

“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”

A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”

“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.

You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.

Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.

A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.

“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”

After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.

“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.

Fuckin’ Natasha.

*******

A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.

As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.

Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.

You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?

*******

Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.

“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.

“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”

Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.

While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.

Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.

“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.

Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.

As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.

Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.

“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.

“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”

As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.

“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.

A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.

Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.

Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.

Sweet dreams.

- B.

When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.

Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

Text

No Scrubs

Well a scrub checkin' me, but his game is kinda weak

And I know that he cannot approach me

'Cause I'm looking like class and he's looking like trash

Can't get wit' a deadbeat ass

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Words: 3.1k

Summary: You try to keep Steve from dying of boredom at an Avengers charity gala.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, squirting, public sex), little bit of a fight, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!!!

A/N: My official entry for @cockslut-padalecki’s “Not My Ninth” challenge!! My prompt was No Scrubs by TLC and Charity Gala. I picked our boy Steve for this one, but like post Avengers pre Winter Soldier Steve. Also, is Thor the best wingman? I feel like I’ve been using him in this role a lot. Happy 9K babe!

Check out my masterlist and join my taglist if you want!

Steve had never felt so uncomfortable in his life.

He hated talking about himself normally, and having to parade around in front of a bunch of rich people was a special kind of torture. But Tony was insistent that the whole team had to be there, and it was for a good cause so he couldn’t say no without being a complete asshole.

He downed the rest of his champagne as some other billionaire asked him the same damn question about how different things were for him now, how much he must miss the 40s, like the war was some golden age of Americana. He just smiled and gave the same polite answers he’d been giving all night, wishing he was able to get drunk. Maybe Thor had snuck in some mead, that could usually do the trick.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, Captain Rogers, but Mr. Stark sent me to come find you. Something about the silent auction.”

Steve felt his face relax as he turned to look at you, his breath coming out in a deep sigh. You looked amazing in your silver gown, all shimmery and gauzy.

“Sorry folks, duty calls.” He said with a shrug as he followed you away from the stuffed suits. “What does Tony want? I don’t have anything to do with the auction.”

“Yeah, I know, but your jaw was clenched so hard I was worried you were gonna snap something, so I figured I’d come rescue you.” You said, grinning over your shoulder at him.

“God, you’re the best.” He sighed, following you to the bar and leaning against it as you ordered yourself a cocktail.

“I know, right? You want anything?”

“Not unless Thor snuck anything in. It’s only been an hour and I’m this close to ramming my head through a wall.”

“Sorry Cap, I hate these things too but it comes with the territory.” You said with a shrug, sipping on your Manhattan as you turned to face him. “Now, lets go find our Asgardian friend. As your handler, I can’t have you destroying property out of boredom, and I’m pretty sure I saw that giant sipping from a contraband flask a little earlier.”

He grinned as he moved to follow you, weaving through the crowd as you expertly turned away the whales that kept trying to approach him. You were his fifth handler since the battle of New York, and the only one that had lasted longer than a week. Mostly because you didn’t actually try to handle him, just let him be Steve and deal with any PR fallout that came with that. It helped that you had an easygoing nature that he found endearing, and you could always make him laugh. The fight you’d gotten into with Tony about changing his suit had really done it for him though, he hadn’t seen anyone make Stark back down so fast.

“Odinson!” You shouted, beaming once you found the massive blonde. He’d been cornered by a group of old blue hairs who were tittering and trying to touch his biceps. “Sorry ladies, the god of thunder is needed elsewhere, auction business.”

They all made sounds of disappointment as you extracted the relieved looking god from the group of old biddies, pulling him away towards one of the empty corners of the ballroom.

“What is this auction you speak of?” Thor asked once the three of you were separated from the crowd.

“A clever ruse, my good friend.” You said with a smirk. “You’re welcome by the way. The Captain here is on the verge of committing violent acts out of boredom, and expressed a desire to get drunk.”

“Yes, thank you Y/N.” He said with a grin. “I don’t think I can help the Captain with his problem though, maybe he should head to the bar.”

“Oh, you can’t help?” You said cocking your eyebrow at him before shoving your hand inside his tux jacket and pulling out a silver flask. “What’s this then?”

Steve chuckled as Thor tried to stammer out a reply as you just shook your head and tutted at him, handing Steve the flask.

“Listen, just be a good boy and share. Now, I need to go to the ladies room but if any of these rich assholes tries to come bother you again, just start talking about the horrors of war, and get graphic. They hate that shit.”

Steve handed Thor back the flask after taking a sip, already staring to feel a bit of a tingle in his fingers.

“That woman is not to be trifled with.” Thor said appreciatively as he took a swig, handing it back to Steve. “Have you slept with her yet?”

Steve choked on the mead, his eyes bugging out of his head as he tried to cough up a lung and Thor clapped him on the back, scolding him for wasting good liquor.

“Jesus, Thor! What are you talking about? I don’t want to sleep with Y/N!”

“Oh my god, you midgardians and your hang ups. Your hormones spike every time your around her, it’s very distracting.”

“What?!?! How do you know that?” Steve loosened his tie a bit as he felt himself starting to warm up, telling himself it was just from the booze.

“I’m not just the god of thunder, I’m a fertility god.” He said with a grin. “And every time you two are near each other, it’s like being around a couple of rabbits in the spring.”

“Oh god, please stop.” Steve said as he ran his hand over his face in embarrassment.

“No you stop. We’re in a hotel, just get a room and , what’s the phrase I’m looking for ‘fuck her brains out’.”

“Jesus Christ, who taught you that? Never mind, I know it was Tony.” He said, waving a dismissive hand at Thor as he gave him a wicked grin.

“Oh no.” Thor said suddenly, looking over Steve’s shoulder towards the ballroom.

“What now?” Steve said with a heavy sigh, turning to follow his line of sight to where you were standing, talking to an unsteady looking man in a sloppy tux. “Rumlow.”

“Yes, apparently your STRIKE team leader has been sniffing after your handler for months.” Thor narrated, leaning against one of the columns and taking another pull from the flask. “She’s always rebuffed him, though. I don’t think he’s ever tried when he’s drunk before. Wait, Rogers!”

Steve ignored him as he strode towards you, growling under his breath and loosening his tie even more as he watched Rumlow wrap his hand around your bicep and yank you towards him. Steve was close enough to see you roll your eyes, but couldn’t hear what you said to the man as he wrapped his other arm around your waist and smashed his mouth against yours.

“Hey!” Steve shouted, his brow furrowed as Brock pulled his face away from yours to see what the interruption was about.

You took your chance and head butted him, a curse leaving his mouth in a hiss as he released you. You gripped his left wrist around his thumb and drew it back hard, smirking when you felt a snap at the same time you drove you fist into his ribs.

Steve had to pull you off him as you started beating him with your clutch, opening it up at the same time to search for your brass knuckles.

“You don’t fucking touch me, you goddamn sloppy deadbeat motherfucker!” You screamed as Steve carried you away from the main floor, your limbs flailing as you tried to charge back at Rumlow. “Learn to tie a fucking tie you cocksucking son of a bitch.”

Steve did his best not to crack up at the shocked looks the blue bloods were giving you, a chorus of offended gasps following the two of you as you released a steady stream of profanity. He pushed open the doors to the balcony with one hand as he kept his other hand wrapped tightly around your waist as you were still trying to squirm free.

“Damn it, put me down Rogers! I’ll kick your ass too!” You hissed, turning to swat at his chest.

“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ!” He said as you started to kick him, catching him in the shins a couple of times. “Ow.”

“You’re fine.” You said with a shrug, taking a couple deep breaths to calm down.

“Yeah, well Rumlow definitely isn’t. Who gave you brass knuckles?” He said, pulling the weapon out of your clutch.

“Nat did. And it’s not like I even got to use them on that asshole.”

“Yeah but you would’ve.” He said, shaking his head as he handed them back to you. “He didn’t hurt you did he?”

You just snorted as you shoved the knuckles back into your clutch, leaning your back against the railing.

“Good.” He mumbled, suddenly not knowing what to say to you.

You somehow looked even better after your altercation. Your hair was a wild tangle now, loose strands blowing in the breeze. Your lips were swollen from the unwanted kiss, and Steve could feel the heat coming off you as your chest heaved with deep breaths. He hissed through his teeth when he noticed the torn skin on your knuckles.

“Shit, Y/N, you’re bleeding.” He growled, grabbing your hand to inspect the damage.

“Huh, guess so.” You said, watching him through your lashes as he brought your hand closer to his face.

You felt your breath hitch as he ran his thumb over the back of your hand softly, his brow still furrowed with worry. Maybe it was just the adrenaline from the fight, but all you could think about just then was sucking on his thick fingers.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You must have zoned out for a second.

“You sure you’re ok?”

“I’m great.” You said, your voice a little squeakier than you would’ve liked.

He took a step closer to you and you gasped, suddenly feeling very light headed as you felt a rush of slick flood your panties. His hand left yours and moved to cup your cheek, his thumb tugging at your bottom lip where you had it pressed between your teeth.

“I think I’m gonna kiss you now.” He muttered, his eyes boring into yours, pupils blown wide with lust.

“Good.” You whispered.

His mouth devoured yours, his teeth pulling your lips open so he could slip his tongue inside, curling it against yours as he wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed you against him. You moaned as you felt his cock hardening against your abdomen, your pussy throbbing with need as he ground himself into you.

He started to sink to his knees and you followed him, your mouth still pressed to his desperately. His hand moved from your waist to dig under your skirt and he let out a growl when he brushed his fingers against your core, pressing them against the soaked silk of your panties.

“Fuck, I wanna taste you so bad.” He grumbled, his lips still pressed to yours. “Wanna see if you taste as good as you smell.”

“Oh god, Steve.” You moaned as he hooked his fingers through the side of your panties and ripped them off you, the elastic snapping against your skin and a shove going up your spine as the night air cooled the wetness between your thighs. “Do it.”

He grinned and gave you a quick peck on the lips before he started to move his mouth down your throat. His hand between your legs started rubbing you in big slow circles as he laid you down, putting just enough pressure on you that you were quickly turning into a wriggling mess.

“Hold still, honey.” He ordered, pulling the sleeves of your dress down just enough that your breasts could pop out, your nipples pebbling in the chilly air. “I’m gonna take my time with you.”

“Fuck.” You moaned as he dragged his tongue over your nipple in a heavy stripe before flicking it softly. Your hands dug in his hair as he sucked and licked at it, just barely brushing it with his teeth until it was raised to an overly sensitive peak before he moved to the other nipple and repeated the process, making you whine.

Once he was satisfied with his work, he pressed a soft kiss to each breast before moving his face between your legs. His hand was making soft wet sounds now as he kept rubbing your sex, and he groaned when he removed it to take a good look at you.

“Fuck if that ain’t the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” He murmured as his lips brushed over your inner thigh.

Your cunt was pulsing with need under his gaze, your plump folds swollen and flushed with heat as he watched you clench around nothing. Everything between your legs was coated in a thick layer of your arousal, and he bit his lip as he watched even more leak out of you.

“I bet I could make you cum with almost nothing, sweetheart.” He teased as he nipped at the soft skin of your inner thighs, inching closer to your pussy before moving away again.

“Steve, please!” You whined, trying to arch your back into his face as you tugged on his hair.

He just grinned before pressing his tongue over your pussy and swirling it through your folds. He had to press his palms down on your hips to keep your body from curling back on itself as he ran his tongue over your sex, lapping at your pussy like his was the first meal he’d had in weeks.

“God you taste so good.” He murmured as he gazed at you through his lashes. “Like fucking peaches.”

You sobbed as he thrust his tongue inside you at the same time his lips wrapped around your swollen clit, making you come immediately. He curled his tongue inside you as your release flowed into his mouth, moaning into your pussy as you spasmed against his face.

Your breath was coming in ragged gasps as you came down, your muscles still twitching randomly as aftershocks shook through your abdomen. He grinned as he sat up over you, undoing his tie before moving to take off his belt as you writhed underneath his gaze. Your brain finally reset and you sat up between Steve’s legs, nuzzling yourself into his neck as you worked to unbutton his shirt.

“You back, honey?” He chuckled as you ran your teeth over his collarbone, dipping your hands under his shirt to press against his chest. “I was a little worried.”

“You’ll find I’m extremely resilient, Steve.” You murmured before sinking your teeth into his pec as you started to undo his fly.

“Shit, good to know.” He groaned as you drew his cock out of his pants and gave it a squeeze.

He gripped your chin and drew your face up to his, raising you up to your knees as he gave you a soft kiss. You moved his cock in your hand to line him up with your entrance, teasing his tip against your folds. Steve wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you a bit higher before slowly drawing you down onto his length.

You let out a thin keen as he stretched you open, relishing the sting as your cunt fluttered around him, adjusting to his girth. He rested his forehead against yours as he started moving his hips at a languorous pace.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He muttered against your lips before moving to bury his face in your shoulder. “So tight and warm and soft.”

You gripped the hair at the base of his neck tightly as his hips started moving faster, slapping against yours. You felt yourself clench around him as he ground against your clit, making you gasp.

“Shit, Steve! Right there!”

“Jesus, already?” He murmured, running his lips over your throat.

“Just... fuck, you’re so big, Steve. Oh my god, I’m cumming.”

He hooked a hand under your ass to keep you from collapsing as your entire body arched violently, almost bending backwards on itself as you swallowed a scream. Your cunt fluttered and spasmed around him as he lifted you to wrap around him, his breath hot against your neck.

“Holy shit honey.” He muttered as he pulled you down against him, making you whimper. “You ok?”

“I’m great. Don’t you fucking stop.” You said, tilting his head back so you could press your mouth to his.

He grinned against your lips as he fucked his hips up into you, keeping his eyes locked on yours as his cock dragged over every inch of you, nudging against your cervix and making your breath hitch.

“Right there?” He asked as you dug your nails into his scalp and bit at his lips.

“Fuck, oh goddamn it, Steve.”

You shrieked into his mouth as you came apart, your muscles seizing as your pussy strangled his cock. His hips stuttered and you were suddenly flooded with warmth, his spend sitting into you and coating your canal in thick white ropes. He sat back on his heels and pulled out of you, and you shuddered as your release squirted all over the front of his pants.

“Shit, did you just squirt honey?” He asked, giving you an appreciative glance as he started to tuck himself back in and button his shirt up.

“I think so. Fuck, that’s never happened before.” You said with a shrug.

“Well, damn baby.” He said as he stood up, offering you a hand to help you to your feet.

“Shit, we’ve gotta go back in there.” You said, running your hand over your face. “Oh my god, Stark is going to kill us. Hold on and give me a second to think.”

Steve just leaned back on the railing and gave a satisfied smile as he watched you pace back and forth, wringing your hands.

“Ok I think I’ve got it, just one second.”

You went to the door and opened it a crack, popping your head through, jumping when you found Thor leaning against the wall right there.

“Hey, Thor. What’s up buddy?”

“Just keeping the other guests from wandering out and seeing you and the Captain humping like rabbits.”

“Appreciate it. We need a distraction though, cuz we’re both a little messy, and I don’t really feel like explaining that to everyone.”

“Got it, what if I blow out the lights in that chandelier?”

“I think that’ll probably work.” You said, giving him a nod before turning back to Steve. “Alright Rogers, we’re making a run for the elevator. Thor, blow it.”

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1K notes · View notes

binxyu · 3 years

Text

Being the main writer for the college paper made it particularly hard for people not to be in your business because, well, you were in their’s. Thus, everyone in the school was aware of your relationship with Juyeon and Hyunjae. But, that doesn’t stop a flirty athlete from hitting on you.

>>Pairing: Lee Jaehyun x Lee Juyeon (doms) x fem!reader (sub) | athletes!jaehyun and juyeon x writer!reader

>>Word Count: 4.3k

>>Genre: Oneshot / Requested / Smut

>>Warnings/Kinks: Choking, creampie, cum eating, cum play, double penetration, exhibitionism/public sex, harassment (not from the boys), marking, oral (giving + receiving), possessiveness, praise, saliva, and unprotected sex

The reminder you had set on your phone was not enough to take your focus off the man in front of you.

Truth be told, you were quite forgetful for a person with such a tight schedule.

Writing on your hand was tried. It didn’t really work considering you washed your hands consistently throughout the day (damn the germs in colleges), smudging the ink to an unreadable blur on your hand.

Thankfully, that’s how you had met your boyfriends. Yeah, plural. There’s an s there.

You had been rushing towards an assignment you had been given for the paper. It was a request to interview some of the top students in the music department and damn late wasn’t even enough of a word to describe how long ago you were supposed to be there.

Showing up a couple hours late resulted in most of the students already gone, hiding away in their dorms for the afternoon.

But, there were two students still waiting for you. Lee Jaehyun (although he likes people to call him Hyunjae) and Lee Juyeon.

They were your saving grace for your paper and, in return, you let them take you out on a date.

Now, months later, your relationship with them still ran strong.

But, apparently your hearing didn’t because the reminder sound on your phone didn’t even register as you write down practically everything the athlete was telling you.

He actually was a classmate of your’s and a pretty popular one at that. The whole school practically knew about him.

“And that’s how I beat the record”, you nodded sweetly, keeping that signature interviewer smile on your face. It did a fantastic job of getting people to open up and this guy was no exception.

“So, one last question, are you dating anyone?”, you weren’t asking for yourself. Especially not when you were already quite... busy... with the two men you were already dating. It was more for the majority of the female population in the school who did like him.

Besides, everyone in the school knew about you and, more specifically, your polyamorous relationship. It wasn’t seen everyday to be fair. You three stuck out like a sore thumb.

“No, I haven’t really been looking”, bullshit. You had been to the football games, the man loved to rile up the crowd. He practically chucked his shirt into a girl’s face the other night when it was “too hot”.

It was just above 50 degrees that night.

“I see. Thank you for the interview”, you smiled and he nodded, smiling back at you before a lightbulb seemed to go off in his mind.

“Are you looking?”, he must have noticed the shocked expression you had because his hand encased your’s, seemingly trying to soothe you as his thumb traced the back of your hand.

All it did was make you more anxious.

“No, sorry, I’m not. I’m actually taken”, there goes that reminder again but you ignored it. It was probably just your reminder to take your gummy vitamins or something stupid the boys put in there because they cared. Maybe a little too much sometimes.

“Oh, by who?”, it wasn’t a curious question. He didn’t believe you. His tone said it.

“By us”, uh oh.

Turning around, you were met with your two lovers. They hovered over you like angry wolves and you could only feel like a little lamb underneath them.

The athlete had flirted with you before and that only made the situation more intense. Of course the football player knew about your relationship. It just didn’t seem to matter to him.

Until, well, now you guess.

“You didn’t come”, shit. So, that was the reminder?

You had a date with them after this interview and it completely flew out of your mind like a paper lost in the wind.

“Sorry, I lost track of time”, they nodded and, for a moment, you thought you saw their eyes soften as they look at you but they just returned back to those icy cold stares.

Even the muscular athlete was scared. Everyone knew how possessive your boyfriends were.

It was pretty obvious after a particularly ignorant party animal laid his drunk hands on you. Before he could do anything else, he was already thrown on the floor with Juyeon’s fist landing on his cheek while Hyunjae pulled you back into his chest like he was some kind of shield.

It was hot, you weren’t going to lie, but it did make you a little worried for people you truly did just want to be friends with.

“Hey, babies, let’s go. Let’s go have our date now”, you placed each of your hands on their chests. It was a gentle move that always seemed to calm them and you smiled as you felt their heartbeats slow down, your own starting to match theirs as you felt it through your hands.

“Fine but you”, Hyunjae pointed with precision at the man, “stay away from her. She doesn’t like you and she’s said no multiple times. She’s ours” the man finally nodded and ran off while you were stuck standing there with a wave of arousal shooting to your core.

Ignore it. You can’t be walking around with marks again-

The internal scold fell short as the boys wrapped you up in a hug. You could practically feel the warmth from their anger coming off of them in waves.

“Next time listen to your reminders. We set them for you for a reason”, Hyunjae scolded you, grabbing your phone to turn off the pesky sound. You really didn’t hear it. Maybe your hearing does need to be checked.

“I know I know. I’m forgetful”, you pout and the boys looked at it, wanting nothing more than to kiss your pouty lips until they’re swollen. Juyeon just chuckles instead and ruffles your hair sweetly.

It was such a sharp contrast to how cold he looked a minute ago but you were used to it. They were usually cold to others but were exceptionally sweet to you.

Well, most of the time.

“Come on, dory. We’ve got to get outside”, that’s always been Hyunjae’s favorite nickname for you. Sadly, you couldn’t argue that it didn’t suit you.

Sometimes you even forget what your name is.

“Okay”, you nodded and held their hands, walking securely in between them. You always did feel safe with your boyfriends and being without them was honestly terrifying. They were like your bodyguards.

Out in the beautiful field of the campus was a little picnic blanket, laid out with plenty of your favorite foods.

They always loved to spoil you and, while the sight in front of you wasn’t much of a surprise considering it was their favorite form of dates, it made you happy nonetheless.

“Aw, thank you boys”, you gave them both a peck on the cheek and sat down. You weren’t much for public displays of affection.

Hand holding? That was fine. It was their way of saying that you were their’s. But, the bigger things like kissing or hugging? That was more of a private thing for you.

Those were actions you did when the three of you could safely display your love for one another without being judged because, let’s be honest, you’re not much of the outgoing type.

Sure, you have to talk to lots of people for your writing, but that didn’t mean you liked to. You actually liked to keep to yourself.

It was odd considering Hyunjae and Juyeon were quite popular due to their singing skills. Everyone wanted them but they only had their eyes set on you.

They helped you sit down, filling up your plate with delicious treats that almost had you drooling. You just realized how hungry you were when your stomach let out the most obnoxious growl you had ever heard.

Okay- maybe you also forget to take care of yourself. When you’re busy the last thing on your mind is what your body wants. Just the task at hand is important.

“Dory, do we need to start setting reminders for food and stuff too?”, Hyunjae shook his head as Juyeon handed you the plate of food. You quickly shook your head back, taking a bite of the fruit sitting on the plate in your lap.

“No, I just got busy. I’m not too hungry”, Hyunjae looked at you with the most untrusting look. He knew you and he knew that you frequently “got busy” and that meant you frequently forgot to take those vitamins or to at least drink water.

As you ate, you started to circle the important details you had written down during the interview, making a clear note in your head to add those facts into the paper.

Sad thing was: the athlete barely gave you anything to work with. Most of it was just bragging or hitting on you.

“What an asshole”, you sighed and rested your forehead on Juyeon’s shoulder. He simply chuckled and started to run his fingers through your hair. You weren’t a saint by any means but cussing was rare. You found it to be a bad habit in public while you swore like a sailor in the safety of your bedroom.

“Frustrated?”, Hyunjae asked, rubbing your back with his large palm, working the knot he knew you had. They really did know your body so well.

“Yeah, he didn’t really give me anything to work with. Just flirting”, you didn’t mean to let the last part slip out. It was just what you thinking about and sometimes that filter in your brain was clogged with all the useless information you kept there.

“Maybe you could do your report on someone else?”, surprisingly, the response was calm and you had to let out a sigh of relief.

“Maybe. I’d have to ask”, you were the writer for the school but it didn’t mean you had free will. Everything had to be ran by someone else. Every decision.

“Alright, I’d feel much more comfortable if you didn’t have to talk to that guy again”, you nodded in agreement.

God forbid something go right because weeks later, after one failed attempt at switching stories, you were put on the athlete’s case once again. This time it was because he was the reason the school won against their rivals.

So, there you sat on the desk chair. You had just finished your journalism class and, ironically, the jerk was in the class with you. You both just agreed to do the interview in the classroom.

You had already told the boys about it and they promised to check in soon. You were worried but also thankful. Your gut had an awful feeling about this guy.

As you were reaching for your notepad and pen, a hand stopped you. It was wrapped around your wrist and you looked up in surprise to see the athlete’s eyes sparkling with mischief.

That can’t be good.

“Come on, no one has denied me before. Why won’t you go out with me?”, it made you scoff and you yanked your wrist from his cold, rubbing the red flesh with your other hand.

“Because I’m taken. So, drop it”, that seemed to strike a nerve. He looked furious and fear flowed through your body when he got up.

Before he could reach you, a hand gripped the collar of his shirt, lifting him up and throwing him out of the room. Juyeon rushed to you, gently wiping away tears with his thumbs.

Wait- you were crying? You hadn’t even noticed.

Hyunjae seemed to take the high road and just simply shut the door in the student’s face, locking him out.

They honestly rarely fought but when they did it was brutal. That’s why they tried to never do it in front of you.

“Are you okay? He didn’t touch you?”, you reassured him you were fine by letting him look you over, his eyes quickly looking over you as if you had some hidden life threatening injury.

After some time, you were already feeling better. The boys had made it their mission to make you laugh as much as possible in the classroom, doing silly dances and even tickling you. They just loved your laugh too much.

“Baby, I have an idea for your newspaper”, Hyunjae looked a little dazed. Well, more than dazed. You couldn’t blame him considering you had all been playing a game of cards and you sucked so fucking bad at it. Therefore, your little game of stripping if you lost resulting in the boys completely clothed while you sat there completely bare.

“And what is that?”, you shivered as the cold air hit your back. Juyeon pulled you in between his legs and wrapped his arms around you in an attempt to keep you warm. Plus, his hold was barely below your breasts and he truly did love those.

“Make it a smut”, you gasped when Hyunjae connected his lips with your’s harshly, a little more rough than usual. Then, it hit you, they held all that anger in just to use it on you.

While you would never actually write a smut for the school paper (unless you really wanted to be fired), you liked to idea of using it to rile them up. They loved your writing and, more specifically, the wonderful sex scenes you wrote.

Anytime you were busy, you’d write them one and then you’d be happy to oblige to their request to act it out when you got back to your dorm. Sometimes they were short scenes and sometimes they were long. Either way, the boys were happy to help you fulfill your fantasies.

The only difference today is that there is no prompt. They get to make up the story themselves.

“Do you want me to tell everyone how good you two fuck me? How well you stretch me out?”, just your words alone had Juyeon’s erection desperately trying to escape the confinement of his jeans. You could feel the bulge against your back and you watched as the wetness started to coat your thighs.

“Yes, tell everyone how good we make you feel”, you nodded in agreement and looked at the door, thankful that there was no windows uncovered in the room.

Finally, feeling safe, you turned around and started to unzip Juyeon’s jeans, pulling it down his legs along with his boxers. You simply tossed them, watching them land on the surface of one of the desks.

Hyunjae wasn’t far behind, removing his own clothes and doing a similar action to them, discarding them as if they were the trash beneath his feet.

“Turn around”, you nodded, turned your body back around and you immediately knew what he wanted. You leaned down to make yourself level with his cock, your eyes running over the veins and the angry red tip. Your ass was right where the man wanted it, high up in front of him.

Your lips wrapped around his shaft, running your tongue along the sides to coat it in your saliva. It always made the movements a bit easier. Juyeon groaned and dove his tongue down your slit, suckling at your clit once he reached it.

The moan you let out sent a vibration through his sensitive tip, causing his thighs to shake slightly. It was a beautiful sight.

Not forgetting about your other boyfriend, you looked up to make eye contact with Hyunjae. He licked his lips as he watched you practically gag on the large cock that belonged to Juyeon.

He was always a bit of a voyeur and, as much as he loved the sight, he couldn’t wait any longer. He sat on his knees next to you and moved his own cock closer to your mouth.

Hyunjae was bigger than Juyeon, stretching you out beyond belief but Juyeon was longer, hitting your cervix with every thrust. Both were a perfect mix of pleasure and pain. Different but well balanced.

You brought your head back, releasing Juyeon from your mouth and you replaced where your mouth had been with your hand, jerking the man off. A long string of saliva connected your mouth to his but you couldn’t care because Hyunjae’s dick was far too tempting to forget.

You wrapped your mouth around his cock now, feeling your jaw lock slightly from the sheer volume you had taken in. He was just as delicious as the previous one and you couldn’t help yourself from sucking him like he was your favorite lollipop. To be honest, he was.

Juyeon slipped a finger inside of your dripping cunt and you whimpered, listening to the sound of your pussy clenching around the digit, soaking it in your wetness.

“I think she can take both of us now”, you stopped for a moment, a little surprised. Sure, you three had discussed double penetration but you never really felt ready. Could you really handle that much?

Maybe you could.

“Let’s do it”, your words came out muffled since you were still infatuated with the taste of Hyunjae’s dick. The boys smirked at one another and Hyunjae gripped your hair to pull you off of him. Your hand instinctively let go of Juyeon’s dick too, missing the feeling of having something to play with.

You never liked to sit still but you knew you probably were going to have to after this session.

“Up here then, baby”, Hyunjae chuckled as you yelped, his arms under your body as he laid you across the desk. You winced when a pencil sharpener landed on the floor off the desk, probably breaking into pieces.

How had no one heard you before this? You had no idea.

Juyeon got up off the floor, rushing to Hyunjae’s side. Hyunjae held your thigh and pushed it open more, taking in the beautiful sight of your glistening pussy. It was his favorite work of art and Juyeon wanted nothing more than to continue the feast he was in the middle of.

“Alright, we’ll go one at a time, okay? If we need to stop then tell us. You okay with this still?”, Juyeon asked softly. Despite how cold they were, they still asked for permission and it was especially important now.

“I’m okay with it. I’ll tell you if you have to stop”, you nodded and looked up at the two. Fuck, you were so lucky.

They both had little stars in their eyes whenever they looked at you and it always reminded you that they were indeed your stars. Those little stars in their eyes only lit up when they looked at you.

Hyunjae decided to go first as the bigger of the two, gently easing his way into you. The stretch was slightly uncomfortable at first but no longer painful. You had adjusted to both of them rather quickly solo but together? That may be a bit harder.

Right when he brushed against that specific spot inside of you, you covered your mouth and moaned, gripping the edge of the desk.

Hyunjae watched you, smirking when he realized you were already becoming overwhelmed with pleasure. He loved watching you try to hold onto anything to keep your grounded to reality. He always seemed to bring you to cloud 9.

“All in. Now you’ll take Juyeon too, right? You’ll be a good girl and take him too?”, you nodded obediently and looked between your legs, noticing that Hyunjae had completely bottomed out inside of you. You already seemed so full, a bulge present in your stomach from where Hyunjae had settled.

Truly, no one could make you feel this good with so little effort but them.

Juyeon gripped your other thigh and pressed small kisses there, a gentle reminder that it was okay to stop him. That he loved you.

He sucked a few marks to the skin, making you whine because once they start they don’t stop. You’ll be covered in marks by the end of the hour.

Once you were spread wider, almost completely folded, Juyeon guided his cock in beside Hyunjae’s. Now, that hurt.

“Slower! Slower please”, Juyeon quickly nodded, noticing that your eyes were watering. He gently wiped them away and stayed still for a moment so you could get used to the stretch. When you nodded, he slowly moved again and you felt your vagina quickly adjust to the size. Like you were made to handle both.

And, now, you couldn’t stop moaning under your hand. It did very little to muffle the noises but it was your only hope of not getting caught.

Hyunjae was pressed against your g-spot as Juyeon had taken it upon himself to settle his tip against your cervix. And, inside of you, their cocks rubbed against each other in an unspoken competition to see who could go deeper.

Of course, Juyeon would win that category but that didn’t matter to Hyunjae.

Both watched their bulges in your stomach as one pulled out and pushed back in. Then, they started alternating until you were so stretched out that they could move together in perfect unison.

The sounds of skin slapping filled the room as they fucked you raw, sharing you in the most perfect way. Everything felt so good that you could already feel the knot forming in your stomach, begging to be released and coat their cocks in your cum.

“You like it, hm? Does it feel good?”, Juyeon teased as he watched your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the wood beneath you. You nodded but your love didn’t like that. He gripped your throat, squeezing it slightly right where he needed to.

The blissful feeling only became more unbearable as you felt some oxygen escape your throat. Tears spilled down your cheeks before he let go, allowing you to breathe.

“Yes! Fuck, I love it!”, the boys leaned down to suck marks all over your breasts, stomach, and hips. Still easy to hide but you knew that wasn’t going to last long.

Their hips snapped against your core as they moved, Hyunjae’s pelvis bone rubbing against your clit perfectly. It made your mouth hang open in a tiny scream and you couldn’t hold it anymore, squirting all over the two as you came.

You had never done that and you were scared that they would hate it but the bright smiles on their faces made you relax. It made you feel good and that’s all that mattered to them.

As the thrusts continued, you squirmed from the overstimulation and Juyeon had to pin you down by your wrists to keep you from falling off the desk.

Their movements became more sloppy and they came together, filling up your clenching cunt with their cum. You felt way too full with all of it and their cocks still inside of you, tapping Juyeon’s arm in a silent plea.

He understood and nodded at Hyunjae, the both of them pulling out to milk the rest of their orgasm’s on whatever they could find. Your thighs, clit, stomach, chest, arms, etc. You looked like the filthiest thing they’ve ever seen and they couldn’t be more proud.

Juyeon put his clothes back on and went out to grab a towel from the locker room as Hyunjae just stared at the cum spilling out of you and down the side of the unfortunate wooden desk.

He seemed to be deep in thought as you tried to breathe correctly, his finger entering your hole without warning and you looked down to see him pull it out. He looked you dead in the eye as he licked off the mixture of cream, humming happily when he found out he loved the taste.

“We taste delicious together”, he leaned down and held your ankles as he started to lap at the cum dripping out of you, eating it up like it was a five star meal. You shivered from the feeling of his warm muscle meeting your cold skin as he licked you clean, licking his lips every time he came up for air.

“How in the world am I going to write an article when that is in my head?”, you motioned to the sight of the cum dripping down his chin. His lips were swollen and his brown locks stuck to his forehead from the sweat. He looked ravishing.

“Smut”, he popped the m for emphasis and you shook your head, letting him kiss you so you could taste it too. It tasted like the best mixture of fruit and you found yourself diving your tongue in his mouth for more.

“Oh yeah, we definitely have to stay together if this is how good we taste”, you giggled and Juyeon had entered just in time to get a taste too. He kissed you, swirling his tongue inside of your mouth before he pulled away. He licked his lips and acted as if he was critiquing a meal.

“I’d have to give my thanks to the chef”, he joked and you smiled, letting out a little chuckle as you tried to sit up but your legs were not having it and neither were your boyfriends.

They rubbed your thighs as you laid back down, trying to ease the soreness in them. Juyeon kissed your hand lovingly and your heart swelled from all the love you felt for the two.

You had no doubt that they were really the ones you were going to spend your life with.

“Looks like the school newspaper is going to have to wait. Unless you feel like writing on a cum stained desk”, Hyunjae chuckled and you huffed, knowing that that paper was definitely not going to be done by its due date.

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ameliora-j · 3 years

Text

happier than ever // hp x reader

words: 1.7k

warnings: breakup, talk of the war, angsty asf, i think that’s all but as always lmk loves! :)

a/n: based on happier than ever by billie eilish,, italics are flashback/song lyrics

a/n ii: i do NOT like nor do i promote billie eilish in any way at all. but the song is trending on tiktok and i thought it’d be a good fic idea

it was the biggest argument the two of you had ever had. the one that resulted in the end of your relationship. you regretted every single second of it. you knew that he was trying. that he just wanted to help. he was trying to make a better world for himself. for everyone. for you. for both of you. so you could have the future you always talked about.

but lately he wasn’t around. he had a lot of responsibilities, you understood that. but you were his girlfriend. and lately he wasn’t being much of a boyfriend. you tried to push it away when he called rain checks on your dates. or when he was late because it “slipped his mind.” or when, sometimes… he didn’t even show at all.

it was your final straw when he showed up three hours late for your anniversary dinner. it wasn’t even your true anniversary… that was two weeks ago. but he had missed that because he was at hagrid’s hut with ron and hermione. you pushed it off with a shrug and a small smile. no more than a “it’s okay harry, i promise. i know you have a lot on your plate right now,” as you kissed his cheek and retreated to your dorm for the night.

but that night… that night you just had so much pent up anger. you were sick of it, truthfully. and you flipped out. “why’re you so dressed up, love?” the question would usually have made your heart sink. but by now you were used to it. now you just scoffed. you were numb to the hurt of him forgetting.

“had an anniversary dinner with my boyfriend. but it seems like he forgot… again,” you spoke plainly.

“darling i’m so sorry you have to believe me,” he implored.

“it’s fine harry. really,” you shrugged as you blinked back your angry tears.

“we can… we can reschedule. tomorrow i promise,” he bit his lip hopefully.

“no. it’s fine,” you shrugged.

“okay. if tomorrow doesn’t work, we can try next week maybe?” he tried again. you shook your head again. “okay well if not next week then i’m not sure. i’ve got army meetings and ron, mione, and i have plans with hagrid. plus we’ve got the end of years coming up so i have to study. when do you want to reschedule for?”

“i don’t harry,” you answered, finally letting the dam break. two tears fell slowly down your cheeks. “i don’t want to reschedule. or try a different day because there won’t be one. it’ll just be the same thing all over again. you’ll be late. if you even care to remember that we have a date at all,” you spat bitterly.

“yn, i’m trying,” harry quickly became defensive at the venom spitting from your tongue. “i’m doing my best really, can’t you see that? i’m trying to save the world here, you’re not making it easy by being so clingy,” he spat ruthlessly.

“then let me make it easier on you, harry. you never have to worry about me again,” you offered a sad smile as you turned and began to walk away.

“you’re breaking up with me?” the sea-eyed boy was dumbfounded.

“yeah. i’m making saving the world easier on you. you won’t have to worry about a clingy girlfriend anymore. go do what you need to do and save the world harry,” you told him. “too bad you couldn’t save your relationship as well,” you sniffled as you retreated to your dorm.

it hurt you to leave harry. but you both needed it. two years of dating and an even longer relationship… and it just all went to shit. it exploded right before your eyes.

you spent the following weeks buried under your covers. sobbing your little heart out, when you weren’t in class. you knew what would come of breaking up with hogwarts’ golden boy and the savior of the world. the dirty looks. the whispers. however, what you didn’t expect… was for the whole wizarding world to hear about it.

what you didn’t expect was for the front page of the daily prophet to read in big, bold lettering: “THE BOY WHO LIVED: HEARTBROKEN.” you read through the article by rita skeeter and you were fuming. she had called you “cold” and “heartless.” and much, much nastier words that you couldn’t even repeat, all of which were completely untrue.

harry had made you out to be the bad guy, of course. the golden boy could never do anything wrong. you scoffed as you picked up the paper and stormed your way to the great hall. all conversation at the gryffindor had died down as their eyes locked on you, storming over to harry. “you LIAR!” you screamed as you roughly shoved his chest, throwing the paper down in front of him.

he raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the article. “i see no lies here,” he shrugged, causing ron, ginny, and hermione to stifle a laugh. you rolled your eyes at this. “you’re nothing but a cold. heartless. bitch,” he spat ruthlessly.

“as if! harry that’s you! you’re cold and you’re heartless! you don’t care about anyone but yourself, oh chosen one,” you spit right back.

“cold and heartless when i’m saving the world?” he raised an eyebrow as he scoffed.

“please cut your little bullshit ‘i the chosen one am saving the world’ ploy. it’s nothing but bullshit! neville could save the world just as well as you can,” you shook your head. “you’re nothing without your title harry. absolutely nothing,” you growled. you saw red. nothing but red. you were positively pissed. anger was the only thought processing in your brain. “you’re an entitled brat harry. who never sees himself in the wrong even when you break hearts.”

“then i guess we’re one in the same, aren’t we, yn?” he snarked.

“oh please. you wish harry. i don’t relate to you. i could never relate to you. cus i would’ve never treated me as shitty as you did,” you shook your head as you spoke. crossing your arms defensively as you prepared to tell the chosen one all about himself.

“i treated you so shitty and yet, i still work my ass off to continue to save your life along with everyone else on the planet. right,” he scoffed.

“cut your bullshit harry. stop with the savior of the world shit. you scared me half to death with all of the dangerous shit you did. you stick your neck out and swim oceans for people who wouldn’t even step over a fucking puddle for you! you think these people care about you? they don’t! you’re a pawn in their little war. that’s all you’ll ever be!” you scoffed again. “i don’t even know why i’m wasting my breath. you only ever listen to your fucking ‘friends’ anyway,” you put air quotes around the word as you forced yourself to keep your tears at bay.

“so what if i’m a pawn! i’m helping! you’ve had everything handed to you on a silver fucking platter you’re entire life! you’d never know what this life feels like!” he shouted back.

“that’s your problem harry! you never see anyone’s problems but your own! you weren’t even aware of the fact that you made me miserable! for weeks you made me miserable. i couldn’t even tell if i still had a boyfriend or not!” you harshly rubbed your nose on the sleeve of your robe. “i wish it wasn’t true, but now that i’m away from you, i’m somehow happier. at least i know you don’t love me anymore instead of having to wonder every night,” you shook your head.

“we’re done yn! you made that very clear when you left me after forgetting one date! why do you care so much!” he yelled.

“because it wasn’t one date harry it was multiple! hogwarts was my home harry! and you made me hate this school!” you shouted.

“so what?! we’re over yn, i’m moving on and handling it in my own way! you should too!” his face was red and the vein in his neck was protruding. all eyes in the great hall—including those of the professors’—were on the two of you.

“no! cus i don’t talk shit about you all over the daily prophet or in school for that matter! i’ve never said anything bad about you!” you yelled at him.

“well why not? apparently you have every right to since i was such a horrible boyfriend for trying to make a better world for the two of us to have a future in,” he scoffed.

you rolled your eyes and decided upon not wasting your breath at his use of that defense yet again. “cause that shit’s embarrassing harry! you were my everything and all you ever did was make me fucking sad!” you rubbed at your nose again, nearly positive that the tip of it was now rubbed raw.

“i’m sorry that you feel like i was so terrible to you. i’m sorry that i couldn’t save our relationship like i saved the world like you said,” he shook his head.

“oh don’t try to make me feel bad harry! i have a whole laundry list of good and bad things about you. but at some point the good stopped outweighing the bad,” by now the inevitable had happened and tears had begun to spill slowly over your lash line.

“really? cus it sounds like you have nothing but bad things to say,” he snarked with a small scoff.

“i mean i could list all the times you showed up on time, but it’d be empty because you never did. you ruined everything good in my life, harry. and you always say you’re so misunderstood but you’re not! you’re just a heartless, selfish, asshole!” you shoved his chest roughly. “just fucking leave me alone! and keep my name out of your mouth,” you rolled your waterlogged eyes as you walked away.

once you were in the safety of your dorm, you let it all out. you slid slowly down the closed door and pulled your knees to your chest, releasing all the sobs you held in during your screaming match. your heart broke for the second time in less than a month. you choked over sobs as your stomach twisted in pained knots, matching the feeling of your heart thumping behind your ribcage.

your everything was gone. but somehow… you were happier than ever without him.

#harry potter x reader #marauders x reader #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x you #harry potter angst #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #angst #hp fandom #hp #hp angst #hp x reader #hp x you #hp x y/n

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pa-panda-heroes · 3 years

Note

Hey u seggsy mf 🙄☝🏻 could u do hcs for nanami, sukuna and megumi where they get into a fight w fem!reader and something bad happens to her before they reconcile? Angst that ends w fluff basically haha. Okay ily bye 😽💕

Angst with fluffy ending is apparently something I’m good at so LETS DO IT. Idk how I feel about these omg send help. I hope you enjoy!!

Nanamin, Sukuna, and Megumi fighting with reader and she gets hurt!

Nanamin:

Nanami Kento doesn’t fight over trivial things. Maybe there’s a slight disagreement, and he’ll move on, encouraging you to do the same. It’s not worth the time or energy, he thinks.

There’s not much he would argue about, actually. He’s a reasonable man, he doesn’t mind compromise where reasonable. But he likes to stick to his routine, his ways, his preferred methods.

So whatever you got into a fight over must’ve been big, something that wasn’t at all trivial enough he (and you) could brush it off, something that might have involved a life or death situation for at least one of you (and potentially a civilian or more) whilst on a job.

Nanamin doesn’t worry; he’s adept putting himself in control of a situation where need be. He plans five moves ahead of the move he’s currently making, he comes up with backup plans - he’s a quick thinker, even when his temper might be flaring at you. But he won’t do what he’s told. He has his own ways.

He’s angry, to be sure. You had made one move that totally changed the situation on top of your previous spat and everything was getting worse - even more so when you were hurt after getting separated. It looked pretty bad. You were okay until you fell unconscious, then he was worried.

He dealt with the curse as quickly as he could safely, ensuring it kept a decent distance away from the worry-inducing, unconscious you. The entire time he fought the damn thing off, he thought about your wound, whether it was superficial or deep, how much blood you lost, and how quickly he could get you aid.

Nanami pretty much gets so intent on cleaning this mess up and getting you help, that the next thing he knows, you’re laying in bed, bandaged up, and resting.

Once you’re stabilized, he’ll get you flowers, he thinks. The kind you like best. Maybe he’ll snatch your preferred snacks, if the kind doctor allows you to eat them. He can be stuck in his ways, he knows that. He has his own ways of doing things, but so do you. Next time he’ll have to figure out a way that makes you both happy.

Sukuna:

Getting into an argument with this bastard is way too easy. As intimidating and menacing as Sukuna can be, he can also be bitchy and stubborn as hell. Maybe even prissy, if you think about it.

So whatever argument you get into was very likely not your fault. Sometimes you have to wonder if he does it for entertainment, but then you hear the “human matters are trivial” bullshit that makes your blood boil. No, he’s just an ass sometimes. Well, he is a curse, you suppose.

All that said, he was always quick get over your little lovespats, and it’s not like he ever threatened or attacked you (in any way, much to your surprise) personally - it was just his attitude, usually. It’s not like you constantly argue in some never-ending cycle.

But nevertheless, when you’re arguing, you are pissed. Maybe he earned the title “King of Curses,” fine, whatever, but the entitlement it gave him was still aggravating. Not as aggravating as getting hurt, though.

...although, that wasn’t half as aggravating as getting hurt and... needing his help. You’re going to avoid that like the plague, you tell yourself, trying to sew up your side on your own. That’s what you get for trying to go solo, you supposed. You were up for it, you knew you were! How did this happen?

Thankfully the wound was superficial enough, but it’s hard to do when your hands won’t stop trembling. Doesn’t help that it hurts and you’re light headed, probably from blood loss. Maybe you’re crashing from the adrenaline spike of battle. Who turned the lights off?

Apparently you’d passed out. And apparently, he helped you out, because when you awake you see that shit-eating grin sitting across your bed. You can tell him to shoo all you want, but it won’t work. You’re stuck with him, now, and he’s going to give you so much grief, because he told you not to do the mission solo. And he was right. He’ll never let you live it down.

You pout and refuse to say anything, crossing your arms and looking away. He teases you and gives you a proud “I told you so,” yet you still say nothing. He lets you rot in silence, although his patience fades away and he makes his way to you, grabbing your neck and pulling you toward him as he plants a tiny kiss to your forehead. You’ll never let him live that down, you decide.

Megumi:

Pretty boy here is fairly quick to argue. When he wants something done, he wants it done his way and usually his way only. He can be argumentative. Dare you say that’s the Zen’in blood in him? Anyway.

He does get to a point where he’s just, done arguing and sometimes gives up. Most of the time he’ll suggest you both take a breather and come back to the issue later. But this time he just kept going, to the point you forgot what the initial problem even was.

Megumi didn’t, though. He told you another sorcerer had his eyes on you in a very not professional manner, and you simply scratched your neck and told him you not to worry and that you didn’t think so. No, he knew so, and he was a little hurt you blew him off like that.

Maybe his jealousy and lack of sleep was clouding his judgement, because he told you how he felt, and when you became defensive he just continued arguing. Megumi wanted the point across, he wanted you to look out for yourself more - there are guys out there you ought to be wary of.

But because his brain shuts down when it comes to you, he didn’t get that point across like he wanted. Instead, he came off as aggressively jealous and, quite frankly, a bit of an asshole.

He’s not a possessive boyfriend at all, you know this by now. But seeing another guy after the oblivious you had him seeing red. Honestly, he didn’t trust the other guy even before you met him. He was a half decent sorcerer, but he was just in it for the money.

To say that Megumi felt like banging his head against a wall was an understatement. So when he finds you in the hospital hurt, he feels even more like utter shit. Flowers weren’t enough. No, not chocolates... Animal plushies? No, that’s not it. He wracks his brain but falls short. Use your words, Megumi!

Finally he gives up and decides to talk it out with you. Luckily for him, you realise what he was trying to say for the most part, so he doesn’t have to trip over his own tongue explaining. With a sigh at his fortune (that you picked him of all people), Megumi sits on your hospital head and pulls you close for a hug. Your bedside table is bare and the room is honestly boring. Maybe flowers weren’t a bad idea, after all.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #fushiguro x reader #nanami kento #ryoumen sukuna #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #nanami kento x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader

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writertitan · 3 years

Text

Unrequited

pairing: levi x reader

word count: 2671

themes: unrequited love, lots of pining, canonverse plot

requested by anon

Hushed whispers sound throughout the crowd as the Scouting Regiment treks towards the wall. You ignore everything that’s said, even if it’s praise, even if it’s libel. As you elbow your way towards the front, all you care about is getting a good view of the Scouts.

Ever since you were a child, you’d made it your mission to see the Scouts off and then welcome them back, no matter what. Even if it means you have to drop everything you’re doing, like now.

Today, you know it’s just a general scouting mission to map out some new terrain. In theory, there shouldn’t be too many casualties. So today, you have high hopes that you’ll see most of the stoic faces passing you by again.

You’ve tried your best to learn names, but so far you can only memorize faces. It soothes you, to know that there are enough Scouts that you can’t name them all.

You ignore the whispers as your eyes scan over every face, silently wishing them a safe journey outside the walls. People always have something to say. It’s long since stopped bothering you to the point of vocalizing your own opinions, but it’s still annoying to hear the mix of disdain and pure awe threading along the throngs of civilians. Why can’t they just have some respect?

There’s a small commotion in the Scouts’ formation that grabs your attention. Immediately, you notice Commander Erwin, one of the names you know well, obviously. But today, there are new faces riding alongside Erwin. A blond man, a red-haired girl, and a raven-haired man. None of these are Scouts you’ve seen before, but they appear close with each other.

New recruits, you conclude.

The way your gaze falls back to the raven-haired man time and time again has you confused. There’s a small part of you that just feels pulled to him, as if by gravity, but you don’t know why. You end up keeping your eyes on him as he passes you by, with him never once glancing at you, and you don’t look away even when you’re just watching the back of his head.

With a start, you realize you didn’t wish the rest of the Scouts a safe journey. You’d been so busy staring at the strange, new man that you had forgotten your little ritual. It makes you panic a little, which is silly. It’s just a ritual that you’ve imposed on yourself. Everyone will be fine, whether you wish them luck and safety or not.

But you forget about how silly you felt earlier when you’re gathered outside to welcome the Scouts back later on, with a huge chunk of them gone, or carried in wagons.

The relief you feel when you see a head of black hair is short-lived for a multitude of reasons. He looks haunted upon closer inspection. The blond man and red-haired girl are nowhere to be found. And you feel sick at the thought you would even feel relief that he’s okay, when so many of his comrades are not okay at all.

When he’s passing you by, so close and yet so far, you hear Commander Erwin address him as “Levi,” and your brain sears the name into your memory.

“Levi,” you whisper to yourself, tasting the name on your tongue. You want to tell him you’re glad he’s safe, that you’re sorry about his comrades, but you don’t. Instead, as he disappears from your sight, you walk back to your little shop and get back to work.

The next send-off feels different than all the rest. This time around, you feel almost fluttery, and there’s a ball of anticipation weighing in your stomach as you push your way to the front of the crowd for a good view. You tell yourself that you don’t know why you’ve been looking forward to seeing the Scouts. A fleeting memory of black hair is one you push to the back of your mind.

When the first of them come into view, you crane your neck for a good view, eyes making sure to land on every face and wish them a safe journey.

The whispers start up instantly and you grit your teeth. You could have sworn you were used to it by now. So, you tune it out, and you wait. You wait until Commander Erwin comes into view. And then, when you realize you’ve correctly guessed there would be a dark-haired man by his side, that fluttery feeling you’ve had inside of you all day erupts and you actually feel physically shaky now as they come closer and closer.

“Have you heard those rumors about Levi?”

Suddenly, you’re interested in the whispers.

“Yeah, I heard he’s a hard criminal. This is how they’re making him pay for his sins. It was either join the Scouts or get the death penalty.”

There’s a snort, and then a cruel, “Kinda the same thing.”

You ball your hands into fists and stuff them into your apron so you don’t get carried away.

As Erwin and Levi pass by on their horses, you gaze up at them in awe, but again your eyes go to Levi.

And then you feel it again. The gravity. The sight of Levi pulls you in and your gaze feels anchored to him only.

But you’ve learned your lesson and this time, you tear your gaze away to look at every other face that passes you by, so you can wish them luck and safety outside the walls.

When you go back to work, you let yourself reminisce on Levi’s profile, the straightness of his nose, the jut of his chin, the delicate curve of his cheek. He somehow looks more stoic than Commander Erwin, which you didn’t think was possible.

Your eyes flutter to the window of your shop and you sigh dreamily, whispering out what you can’t say to Levi directly.

“Be safe, please.”

It goes from just Levi to Captain Levi very quickly and you feel a surge of pride course through you when those whispers make their way into your ears. From what you’ve heard, Levi - Captain Levi - is supremely gifted at being a fighter, a soldier, and has steadily been racking up his number of titan kills. He’s impressive and people are recognizing that he’s impressive. It makes you grin from ear to ear until the recognition reaches Anya and Lumie, the two girls who work in the tavern just around the corner. It’s their whispering that you listen to as you wait for the Scouts to return from their latest expedition. It’s not really whispering, since they’re a few people down and you can still hear everything.

“He’s strong and he’s a captain now, and very handsome,” you hear Lumie say.

“And the best part? He’s a bachelor!” Anya responds excitedly. “Who cares if he’s short?”

You bristle at the backhanded compliment.

Anya and Lumie are at the front of the crowd as well, but just a few people away from you, and they use it to their advantage as Captain Levi comes into view.

He’s as neutral-faced as ever, but he seems to snap out of it as Anya and Lumie call out to him.

“Hi, Captain Levi!”

“Welcome back, Captain Levi!”

They both giggle and wave and you can’t help but notice how supremely beautiful they look today under the late afternoon sun, with their shiny hair and rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes.

When Captain Levi catches sight of them and nods to them in acknowledgment, your heart thrums in some panicked way.

You so badly want to speak to him. You want to suddenly have the courage to raise up your hand and wave to him and call out his name and say hello, and say thank you.

You don’t do any of that. You’re very aware that, under this late afternoon sun, you’re sweaty and frazzled.

Captain Levi turns his gaze straight ahead as he passes you by. He doesn’t see you at all, you don’t catch his eye, but the gravity is full force for you and you gaze longingly at his retreating form even as people start dispersing.

You’re late to get back to work.

When the day comes that you don’t see Captain Levi riding back inside the walls on his horse, bile starts to rise in your throat at what that could mean. Humanity’s Strongest couldn’t have been hurt...or worse...right?

You see Commander Erwin, his face blank, and your bottom lip trembles when your eyes don’t catch sight of the familiar head of black hair.

“Where are you?” you whisper to yourself, willing the wind to carry your words to the Scouts, as if someone could hear and answer your question somehow.

The civilians are whispering again (what else is new?), but the whispers are as panicked and curious as you feel inside.

You grow more and more frantic when Levi doesn’t turn up, and you really do contemplate it. You contemplate stepping forward and grabbing a scout by the shoulders and shaking them and demanding to know where Captain Levi is.

The scenario plays in your head clearly and is enough to make you take a step forward, a hand outstretched to grab the attention of a scout. But then the whispers melt into disbelief, and then back into that disdain you’ve grown familiar with.

“...so-called Humanity’s Strongest,” you hear the end of a whisper.

“He’s in that wagon there. Apparently got hurt,” another voice says.

Your eyes lock on the wagon that’s pointed out by a stranger, and your breath catches in your throat when you see the black hair you’ve been seeking out.

Levi is draped in his green cloak and it’s smattered with blood. He’s bandaged up. His head is held high, but his eyes are as haunted as they were when he had come back that fateful day without the blond and redhead.

As the wagon nears you, you’re about to send that silent relief that you’re glad he’s okay, but an unexpected thing happens.

The man next to you decides to act on a moment of boldness. He cups his hands around his mouth and says something that makes you snap.

“Not so strong now, are ya, Captain Levi?”

And just like that, Levi’s eyes snap towards your general direction and you freeze for a split second. The moment you’ve only dreamt of up until now is about to happen, and for all the wrong reasons. What if Levi looks at you and thinks you associate with this asshole who says cruel things?

You don’t know what takes over your body when you shove the man, hard, and then raise your hand to slap him across his stupid face.

“Shut up!” you seethe, hand flying down to finally land that slap to his face.

But someone from behind you snatches your wrist before your palm can make excruciating contact with the man’s cheek.

You don’t fight it. Instead, your gaze goes back to where it always goes. Your heart stops.

Levi is looking at you, at you, and his expression is unreadable. Any thought in your mind whooshes right out and you feel as if you’re floating, but it’s sort of an uncomfortable feeling, like you won’t be able to come down to earth.

Your mouth gapes for a moment as you try to say something, anything, while Levi’s attention is on you, but all you can register in your mind is that this is the first time you’ve noticed the color of Levi’s eyes. They’re a dazzling and unusual grey. You wouldn’t have ever known that if he had never looked at you.

“Thank you,” you call out to him without thinking. You must look like quite the sight, with frenzied eyes and being held back from smacking the lights out of a stranger. You try not to think about how you look, and think about what you’ve just said.

You know how he’ll take it. He’ll think you’re thanking him for his service, for his bravery, for his efforts to save humanity.

You are the only one who knows that you’re thanking him for finally noticing you, and for allowing you to find out that he has the most beautiful eyes.

Maybe you just imagine it, but you swear that there’s a small flash of gratitude in his eyes, and that alone makes the scene you’ve caused all worth it.

The next time the Scouts are due to leave for an expedition, you almost don’t go out to silently wish them all well.

You fight with yourself about it all night. You don’t want to be there, watching, for one big reason.

You are hopelessly in love with Captain Levi of the Scouting Regiment.

You had just come to the realization recently, right after that altercation that made him finally look at you. It feels ridiculous to call it love. How can you love someone who doesn’t know you? Someone who has only looked at you once? Someone who has never spoken to you, and has only heard you speak two words to them?

And yet it is love. Undeniably, it is love.

How else can you describe the gravity?

You’ve been pulled to him since the first time you saw him.

You love Captain Levi and he will never love you, and you don’t know if you can keep going out and looking at him and pining for him and wishing for his safety and dreading that your wish doesn’t come true.

“I won’t go today,” you say to yourself, in your empty little shop, your tone not nearly as determined as you want it to be. “It won’t matter if I stay in here. Nothing will happen.”

The prickle of superstition prods at your spine, memories flooding your head of that fateful day of first seeing Levi with his friends, and then without his friends, and how you had failed to properly give all of the scouts your attention.

“Just a silly superstition,” you try to convince yourself, rubbing a rag into an empty mug. You try to concentrate on your work tasks, willing yourself to just stay put, but the itch to go out overwhelms you and you end up groaning loudly in defeat as you sulk towards the door of your shop.

You stop there, hand on the doorknob, and you try to get yourself to stay. One final attempt.

“If you go out there,” you whisper to yourself, “you’ll be going out there knowing that you will only ever know unrequited love. Can you handle that?”

Your head screams that you can’t handle that. There’s no way. You should just go back to work.

But your heart.

Your goddamn heart.

It tells you to go out there and make sure that you make the wish you always make. Because if you really love him, and you know you do, you’re going to be brave about it and make sure he’s safe.

You make a compromise with your head and your heart. As you step outside and into the crowd, you don’t make it to the very front with the good view. You settle for a spot in the middle, where you can still see the Scouts and be able to do what you always do.

That head of dark hair comes into view next to Erwin and you smile sadly to yourself. He’s not staring straight ahead for once. He’s actually conversing with Erwin about something and Erwin is listening intently. You stare at them both with determination, the determination you’d wished you’d had in your shop earlier, and wish for them to return back to you safely.

As your eyes move on dutifully to the next group of scouts, you don’t catch Levi moving his gaze from Erwin to sweep across the crowd, and you don’t feel his eyes land on you.

He looks away just as quickly, and gazes straight ahead as Erwin speaks to him.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi one shot #levi ackerman fic #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman #levi fanfiction #levi fic #levi #aot fanfiction #aot oneshots #aot #snk fanfiction #snk

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bucky-barmes · 3 years

Text

☾✧✧✧ I'm just looking for a good night ✧✧✧☽

female enhanced!reader x tfatws!Bucky

In which you get dragged into a mess in Madripoor while just trying to enjoy yourself. But is the infamous Winter Soldier as bad as you always thought?

[ a/n: idk what this exactly is but i don't hate it, and who doesn't love asshole bucky? maybe i just have a problem, also loosely based on that madripoor episode. also also tried something new for the writing style so i hope you don't mind lemme know if it's shit ]

Minka is polish for strong-willed one, and is a name but here it’s used as a nickname as it’s reader insert

[ word count: ~3,580 words (this started as a lil drabble of reader meeting bucky at a bar, but i guess my brain had other ideas)

includes: asshole bucky, swearing - like a lot (i'm aussie okay?), drinking (alcoholism?), it's pretty fkn angsty, asshole bucky (i'm warning you ok), no -18 pls as it's not entirely g rated & has some implications

[ all works are my own, do not steal, repost or translate ]

tagging some friends (message if you wanna be on a perm taglist/if you don't wanna be tagged in future (i won't take it to heart i promise)) @sweetdreamsbuck @beefybuckrrito @mymindslabyrinth @igotnoname4thisblog @theluxuriousfangirl @posinhay @barnesand1

The music was blaring, sending vibrations through her body as she swayed to the fast beat. Drink sloshing around as she waved her arms around her above her head. This was it. This was living. Drunk, surrounded by strangers. No one knew her and she knew no one. She was free. And it was incredible.

Going to clubs alone was dangerous, she couldn't remember the number of times her mother had warned her not to. She must have been rolling in her grave at her daughter not only going to a club alone, but to a club in Madripoor no less. The thrill that anything could happen only exciting her more. That, and knowing that the Powerbroker wouldn't let anything happen to her, wouldn't let anyone lay a finger on her. That was the perk of being enhanced and not looking like it, it made you useful.

She had lost track of the hours, and the drinks, thinking only of how good the music made her feel. Of how nothing had felt this good in so long.

She waded through the sea of people, already locking eyes with the bartender as she made a beeline for the bar. She was stopped in her tracks, however, by a wall of bodies.

An almost animalistic growl ripped through her as she slapped her hand down on the shoulder of the man in the middle, a big fur collar adorning his coat. A hard hand gripped her wrist in response and her eyes shifted slowly from the back of man one to the owner of the hand.

Her eyes widened at who they landed on, then narrowed to barely visible slits. Yanking her hand back she didn't break her glare.

"I'm sorry, Dove, did we cut in?" The voice of the middle man broke her chain of thought, and when she looked back to him, he had turned to face her. "How about we buy you a drink to apologise."

"I don't want your handouts, Baron." Venom dripped from her words as she spat back her response. She wedged herself between the Baron and the third man, not someone she recognised, to snatch the drink the bartender placed out for her. "Besides, I don't pay here anyway, don't want you wasting your money."

She was about to work her way back through the crowd of people and to the middle of the dance floor again when she had a thought.

"Hold the fucking phone." Spinning on the spot, her eyes narrowed again, this time at the Baron, but that didn't stop her from seeing the man to his left step forward defensively.

"How are you even here? Last I heard you were stuck in a prison in Germany." Her drink was down and she slammed the glass down on the bar, getting threateningly close to him as she did. "Thought you were never getting out after what you did to them." Her sentence trailed off as her eyes flicked to the man next to him, the one with the metal arm.

The Baron offered her his signature smug smile. "Some people had other plans."

"Well, whatever you're planning," She closed the gap between them further. The shifting of bodies next to them was halted with a raise of the Baron's hand. "Stay the fuck away from me." Hatred seeped from her whole body.

Snatching the new drink that was placed on the bar, her gaze was turned to the apparent bodyguard.

"And I'd think twice before you lay a hand on me again." There was no response, but a subtle cocky smirk instead that only heated her further. She was gone before any of them could speak another word to her.

She was only able to start enjoying herself once more when the sight of the three men had disappeared, then, she was able to let her guard down and the beat of the music slowly took her over again. Until she got a call.

Plugging her other ear so she could hear, she took mental note of the location she was told to move to. The call ended abruptly, they always did with the Powerbroker, but this one was serious. She had begun picking up on the subtle differences between the calls.

Her gun was pulled from her thigh holster as she advanced towards the room Selby used for meetings.

She listened from a distance, the ability being one of many. A phone rang. An awkward silence as the conversation started. Names were thrown around, first Smiling Tiger. 'Yeah, that guy was definitely not Smiling Tiger', she thought to herself as she listened, remembering her run in with him one time. The phone call ended with a goodbye to "Sam"?

There were gunshot before she had time to process anything further.

Kicking the door down, she stepped through slowly, gun raised. It had fallen silent, the three men stood in the middle of the room.

"Holy fuck, what did you do?" Her voice was a mix of shock and anger. The men snapped their heads up.

"Things didn't exactly go according to plan, Dove." The Baron regretfully shrugged as he looked around at the collection of bodies on the floor, inclusive of Selby's.

"Well, why the fuck am I-" A fifth person joined the room before she could finish.

"Because the Powerbroker requested it." Sharon Carter approached her, stone-faced. “And nobody disobeys the Powerbroker.”

“I don’t know, I might’ve had I know it was for these idiots.” She was dead serious as she said it, glaring at the men responsible for the bodies strewn about.

Sharon shot the other woman a look, a look that said ‘you better cut it out right now’.

"Don't, Minka." Sharon's use of the others' nickname amplified the seriousness of it all.

The men in the room didn’t know it, but she, Minka, was the only one who knew who the Powerbroker really was. And you could say she was somewhat of a bodyguard for them.

“The Powerbroker requested it. End of, so get over it.” Sharon snapped at her.

“I can’t believe you’re helping these people.” Her grip on her gun tightened as she interrogated Sharon. “After everything that happened last time.” Her sentence ended with a scoff, clicking on the safety of her gun. She didn't place it back in her holster just yet though.

“Enough.” Sharon’s remark was a bark. An order. “Whether you like it or not, you’re involved now, you’ve seen the bodies. You’re part of it now.”

Minka just glared at her, mumbling “lucky me” under her breath as her daggers turned to the men again. Her anger only bubbled more when she saw the one with the metal arm, the Winter Soldier, staring right back, something she couldn’t quite pick up on behind his cold eyes.

Many hours and gun fights later, everyone made it Sharon's place alive, much to the acrimony of some of them. Of Minka.

"You have a beautiful place, Miss Carter." Baron was walking around, admiring the art as he made the genuine compliment, but he was being eyed. Sharon's personal guard wasn't about to let him touch, ruin, anything.

"Don't touch anything, and get changed, everyone knows what we're wearing now." The last part was directed at the whole group. "And you look like shit, too." Her nose scrunched as she looked them over. Even her associate was included in the statement.

Sharon watched as her figure retreated to the room she had set up, she was there often enough to warrant her own one, and then directed the men to where they could pick out some clothes and change.

There was a soft thump as her body landed on the bed, and she released a long sigh into the covers.

"Yeah, Sharon, I'm not in the mood." Her voice was mumbled from the bed, but was loud enough to hear the frustration.

"Minka, huh?" That was not the voice of Sharon Carter. Her head snapped up to face the door to her room that she swore she locked.

"You don't get to call me that." If looks could kill, the man in the doorframe would have dropped to the floor in record time.

"Is that not your name, Doll?" Arms folded over his chest, a mix of metal and flesh.

"Is your name The Winter Soldier?" The words were laced with malice as she slid off the bed, moving towards him to push him out of her room, her safe space. "Now if you don't mind getting the fuck away from me."

A heavy boot stopped the door from clicking into place, his metal hand forcing it back open, eyes dark. "No, I don't think I will." He stepped into the room, pushing the door closed behind him. This time it was her that stopped the door from closing, hand gripped tightly on the handle, pulling back.

"You've got some fucking nerve coming here like that." Minka yanked the handle as the soldier pushed the door harder, breaking it clean off. "Coming back into Sharon's life like you aren't the one that fucked it up in the first place." The handle dropped with a loud thud.

For a moment, something flashed through his eyes. Regret? Sadness? Whatever it was lasted a mere second before he regained control.

"So, you're like me?" His gaze dropped to the handle on the ground, taking the opportunity to gaze down her body as he did.

It was all she could do from punching him right then and there. "Absolutely not!" If the venom in her voice wasn't evident before, it definitely was now. "I don't kill innocents."

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. The soldier staring down darkly at the smaller woman.

"It's Bucky."

Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

"My name, it's Bucky. And you can call me that."

She couldn't hold back the scoff that fell from her lips. "I won't be calling you anything. After all this shit is cleaned up, you'll never see me again."

Bucky's head tilted ever so slightly, his voice soft but dark. "I wouldn't be so sure of that." But before she was able to punch question him, Sharon's voice bellowed through the building.

"Downstairs, now."

The pair ripped their eyes from each other, Minka's falling to the handle on the floor. "I'm telling her you broke that. Now fuck off so I can change." And she shoved him out of the room, closing the door over between them, making sure to not close it the whole say so she could actually get out when she was ready.

By the time she had finished getting ready and made her way down to everyone else, people had begun meandering in, admiring the art.

"Took you long enough." Sharon walked up behind her, whispering harshly in her ear.

"Yeah, well you can thank your old friend for that. He's an asshole, by the way." "And he's not a friend." "Well he's the reason I need a drink." She turned to face Sharon, giving her a look of 'I hate you for dragging me into this' before heading to the bar, fully intending on double parking it the whole night.

It didn't take long for her to finally loosen up again, 5 drinks to be exact, and be back in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by sweaty bodies. It may have been an art auction, but nothing was ever not a party in Madripoor, especially if it was organised by the Powerbroker themself.

Minka was so caught up in the moment that she had forgotten entirely about the events of the day, the people of the day.

She had, yet again, lost track of the number of drinks she'd had. But every drink handed her way was downed immediately, not taking any time to register where, or more like who, they were coming from. That was always her greatest weakness, denying alcohol.

She was happily about to take yet another unknown drink being handed to her, when it was snatched from her reach and discarded on a nearby table.

"Hey, what the fuck, that was mine!" She growled, turning with her fist ready to launch into whoever had the nerve to steal her drink.

"Stop taking drinks from strangers, are you an idiot?" Suddenly the memories of the men she had to deal with throughout the day came flooding back. "You're gonna get spiked- in fact, you were about to with that one."

"What? Have you been keeping an eye on me? That's not very Winter Soldier of you." Her tone was mocking as she glared up at Bucky, struggling to stand thanks to the combination of copious amounts of alcohol and continuous movement of people around her.

Bucky placed his large hands on her biceps to keep her steady, eyes narrowing at her words. "You really don't know how to be nice to people, do you?"

"You really don't know how to stay the fuck away from people that don't like you, do you?" She retorted immediately, pulling herself from his grip. "I don't need a goddamn babysitter, especially not you. You don't exactly have the best track record with protecting people." Her back was turned to him and stalking off before she even finished her sentence, but she was yanked back in by her forearm.

"Yeah, I don't think so. You're being watched like a hawk by at least 3 men. Who knows how many of them are trying to spike you and get you separated from the crowd." Bucky's eyes were anywhere but hers, scanning the vast room for anything suspicious, clearly on high alert.

"I don't understand why you fucking care?" Bucky's eyes snapped down to hers, alarmed by her intensity.

"Keep your voice down or you're gonna draw attention to us." He hissed at her, lowering his head and pulling her arm to move her closer to him.

"Good, maybe security will see you're harassing me and escort you out." She snarled, anger rising with every word he spoke. "I'm just looking for a good fucking night and you've managed to ruin it twice now."

"Well take it up with Sharon then, she's the one that told me to keep an eye on you. So clearly she thinks you do need a babysitter." He dropped her arm, that would be enough to keep her in her spot for now.

"You're lying." Her words were barely above a whisper, eyes narrowed at him. "She knows I can hold my own. She's literally hired me for personal protection before."

"Clearly not this time." Bucky's eyes were back to scanning the room. "Not with the types of people here tonight." Minka couldn't help but scoff.

"Oh, because you know Madripoor, right? You've spent how many years here? Oh, that's right, none." She suddenly saw her opportunity to escape, Bucky's eyes not trained on her and her arms free.

"Tell her, as much as I appreciate it, she can shove it." And with that she had weaved her way though the crowd of bodies.

But her abandonment didn't last nearly as long as she had hoped.

All of a sudden she was being pushed against the far wall of the room where she was escaping to, breath knocked out of her.

"What the fu-" Lips landing on hers cut off her protests. Her eyes widened when she realised who said lips belonged to.

"Get off of me!" She spat when she was finally able to push Bucky off. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"People are following you. If they know you're with me they're less likely to try something."

"I'm not with you. In fact, I want to be as far away from you as physically possible right now." Bucky's arms, which were trapping her in by pressing against the wall either side of her face, fell to his side. His face turned emotionless for a moment before returning to his usual arrogant demeanour.

"You can't tell me you didn't feel the spark." He winked, a cocky grin plastered on his face when he saw the heat creep to her cheeks.

"Please, you wish there was a spark." Her eyes rolled as she paused. "I've had knife fights with more spark than that."

"Maybe we should have a knife fight sometime then." Bucky's response was quick, and smooth.

"Have you forgotten that you're never going to see me again after all this shit? Although," Minka tapped her chin in mock thought. "If you're offering to let me stab you, I'll gladly take you up on that." Unlike Bucky's, her face held no semblance of humour.

"I'm sure you'll change your mind by the end of it." Bucky eyed her suggestively.

"God, please don't tell me you're into me. Maybe I do want those supposed guys to take me, seems better than the alternative." She groaned at the thought of having to deal with him fawning after her.

Bucky's face indicated that that was definitely not he case. His eyes, however, suggested her words had hurt him a little. "God, never. But if you really want, I can hand deliver you to them myself." He pointed in the direction of said men.

Her nose crinkled. "Okay, maybe not them."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Sharon, we have a serious problem!" Minka stormed into the kitchen after the last few people had left and the party was over, Bucky not far behind her. "So I need a babysitter now? I thought I was the personal protection around here." Her fist collided heavily with the table.

"You are," Sharon looked at her nonchalantly as she poured herself a glass of whiskey. "Until alcohol is involved. You're as useless as that new Captain America when there's booze around." A sip. "Case in point." Sharon hummed, watching your eyes follow her glass from bench, to mouth, to bench again.

"Oh please." She snorted. "And you thought pairing me with this idiot was a good idea?" He hand gestured back to Bucky at idiot, not caring if it offended him. "He just makes me want to drink more."

Sharon was about to give her a look, but Minka just shook her head, throwing her hands up. "No, I'm not dealing with this tonight. I'm going to bed." "Take him with you." Sharon nodded towards Bucky.

"Oh fuck no, why the fuck would I-" "Because everyone knows you're involved, and your head is on a spike now, too. They want you dead, Minka." She couldn't argue with Sharon when she used her nickname for her. And the pain in her voice was evident.

"Fine, but you're sleeping on the floor." Bucky just shrugged, "nothing new."

"You sleep there." A finger pointed to the sofa on the far side of the room. Conveniently away from the bed. "I'll get you a blanket."

Bucky's brow quirked. "I thought I was on the floor?" He feigned confusion, head tilting to the side before his cocky smirk returned.

"Keep going and you will be." The blanket was thrown at his face, along with a pillow.

"A pillow too? Wow, it's like a 5 star hotel." She just glared.

"If you snore, you're out. If you sleep talk, you're out. You make any sort of noise and you're out. Capisce?"

"Guess it's a good thing I don't sleep then, huh?" Bucky threw the blanket and pillow onto the sofa.

"Now see, that just makes it weird. Like that scene from Twilight." "Well, yeah, when you put it like that it is." His face screwed up at the thought, recalling the scene.

"How do you- Actually no, I'm tired and I don't care." She had been about to ask how he understood the reference, but decided that was going to open a whole can of worms that she didn't care about.

"I may be over 100, but I have seen Twilight. Wanda made me watch it with her." He didn't need to be a mind reader to know what she was about to ask. And he didn't blame her, it probably would be surprising that a 106 year old had seen Twilight.

"Don't worry, Doll, I won't stare. Much." And now it was her turn to scrunch her face up.

"If you fucking touch me, I'll rip that metal arm from your body and shove it so far up your ass." Her sentence trailed off, however, when Bucky stepped closer to her, his gaze intense as he looked down at her.

"And how do you think I would touch you?" Another step closer, making her step back and gulp.

With her mouth agape, Minka was lost for words, probably for the first time in her life. Sharon unknowingly came to her rescue, though, when she knocked on the door while entering.

"Set your alarm for 6," Her eyes narrowed at them both and the distance, or lack there of, between them. "We've gotta be out of here asap tomorrow. Make sure you get enough sleep." "Will do, Sharon." Minka's gaze flicked to her, nodding once before she left the room, confusion plastered on her features.

"Right, well that's bed time then." Her tongue ran over her lips nervously, and she was painfully aware of Bucky's eyes watching. "I'm going to get changed." She turned and basically ran to the bathroom attached to her room.

"I'll be out here waitin'." "You're disgusting, don't think anything." "Wouldn't dream of it, doll."

#ya'll this gif makes me feel things #also i suck at knowing when to end & start paragraphs i'm sorry #bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #marvel #marvel oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #avengers #avengers oneshot #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

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