#because she enjoys the weight of her hoodie even if its hot as fuck out and will probably stop functioning right if she doesn't have one

[graveyard-society]

the sheer amount of headcanons i produced while i was drawing this is insane

#a few of them i might try drawing cause theyre scenarios instead of concepts #i would actually like try to list a few down in a separate post or scatter them around in other posts #but because of the clothing i put them in here #ill focus on that #yes in the tags #nagito's body temp is very naturally cold and also gets cold very easily #he needs to have like two layers on him at all times or else he'll actually freeze #maybe even 3 layers if its Just That Cold #hajime on the other hand is the complete opposite and is both naturally warm and heats up easily #i feel like he sorta doesn't really like wearing long sleeves that much cause it feels kinda stuffy? #that or he just cant find a decent article of clothing that is both comfortable and to his tastes #chiaki is relatively normal in body temperature but she also overheats easily much like hajime #except because i hc her with autism (as an autistic myself) i feel like chiaki wears long sleeved clothing regardless of weather #because she enjoys the weight of her hoodie even if its hot as fuck out and will probably stop functioning right if she doesn't have one #anyway thats my take on my favorite trial trio #komahinanami my absolute loves #question to you guys who's read the tags: how do you interpret this? #sdr2 #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2: goodbye despair #danganronpa nagito #danganronpa hajime #danganronpa chiaki #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata #chiaki nanami #komahinanami #aiden.png

[hutaoscoffinn]

Head in hands

Rika SFW imagine/hc/whatever youre vibing with right now; a GN! Reader. Reader gets cold, how does Rika keep them warm? Holding hands? Lap cuddles? MOTHER BEGS FOR FLUFF

This made me squeal bc this is SO FUCKING CUTE HELLO AHHHHHHHHHHHHH I’m so in love with Rika that piece of shit (affectionate)

Warnings: none, its super fluffy, tooth rottenly fluffy even, Rika is a massive simp because as she should be, gn! Reader, this is so fluffy and cute ohmyGOD

Character: Rika of the Elite 4

Requests: OPEN

Well it’s starting to get colder so its no shock that you get cold sometimes

Rika usually doesn’t mind the cold, sticking to her usual button up with the sleeves rolled up and dress pants no matter what the weather is

Cmon she wore that at the 8th gym which was in the literal mountains like woman hoW

But when you and Rika start dating she immediately notices how you’ll start shivering in the cold, teeth chattering as the cold air seeps into your bones

So, Rika starts wearing a blazer to pass off to you whenever you get cold during the cooler seasons

Its a thick blazer, good quality that smells like her and as soon as she notices you shiver she’s wrapping it around you

This usually takes place in public settings when she has to keep up professional appearances and can’t get too affectionate with you

In private however?

Rika will be all over you

She’s a teasing shit so she will turn down the air to make you cold so you’ll cuddle up to her

And as soon as you start inching your way over to her, she swoops you up in her arms and settles you against her chest or in her lap

She’ll start kissing your cheeks and forehead as she hugs you tight, wrapping a blanket around you both or carrying you to bed so she can hold you nice and close

If you like hot chocolate or prefer hot coffee, tea, or even just warm milk she will make it for you as you two settle down to cuddle

Rika definitely enjoys this little strategy of turning down the temperature in your apartment at night too

That way, throughout the night she can hold you close and enjoy the affection you give her as you continue to cuddle up against her, seeking her warmth

If you ever do catch Rika’s little scheme of keeping your apartment cold and say something to her, she will brush it off as keeping the heat bill down

Despite the fact that the apartment feels like a goddamn tundra in the summer but Rika is more than happy to pay extra for the AC bill if it keeps you snuggled against her

Another one of Rika’s ways to keep you warm is to let you wear her shirts, sweaters, jackets, hoodies, ect

You name it she lets you wear it

She will probably even buy larger clothes to wear not only because she likes oversized clothes cmon have you SEEN how her button up hangs off her? But because she wants you to look adorable in her clothes as well

It doesn’t matter how tall, short, or what weight you are, Rika will get clothes that fit you comfortably and then wear them so that they smell like her before she passes them off to you to keep you warm and enjoy

This tactic especially helps when Rika has to do business for the Pokémon league which may keep her out of the house for days at a time

When she does have to leave, she will make sure you have plenty of her clothes and blankets to snuggle up to while she’s gone so that she can keep you warm even when she’s away~

Paldea was getting colder again as the fall and winter months settled across the vast land. It felt as though the frosty, winter mountain cursed the land to be covered in a hellish cold and you were sick of it. You had already gotten more than enough of the cold when you traveled that god forsaken mountain during your gym circuit when you traveled all over the damn thing to take on two gyms and fight Team Star’s fairy squad.

Which led to now, you gripping a fluffy blanket around yourself as your teeth chattered together thanks to what felt like frost covering your body. You hear a low chuckle behind you and you don’t even have to turn around to know who would dare take humor in your torture.

“Its not funny Rika. Stop laughing,” you huff, annoyed with your partner’s amusement at your devastating situation. You’re ready to curse at her when she laughs louder before you find yourself being pulled into a pair of warm arms.

Rika settles you in her lap, tugging your form tight against her body. She adjusts the blanket around you both and a small smile forms on her lips as you nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck, cuddling closer to her warmth.

“Better?” She asks with a small hum, amusement present in her voice that you choose to ignore in favor of soaking in your girlfriend’s warmth.

“Mmm much better.”

Rika’s chuckles softly before she presses a sweet kiss to your temple as she begins to rub your back lovingly.

“That’s it, just let me keep you warm, my angel.”

Reblogs are always appreciated <3

#coffinn.writes #coffinn.requests #rika x reader #pokemon Rika #Elite 4 Rika #elite four Rika #pokemon Rika x reader #rika imagine #rika headcanon #elite 4 rika x reader #elite four rika x reader #gn reader #fluff #this was so goddamn cute #i love Rika so much my WIFE #she’s perfect what can I say

[erythrum]

𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒓

𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘖𝘯𝘦

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨,𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧,𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦,𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹,𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘴,𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1.9𝘬 +

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘺/𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘢𝘧𝘦

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

The boneyard was a melting pot, pogues, tourons, and kooks unalike all gathering for one of the last kegger's of summer. This mash together of kids from all over Kildare and the mainland always ended in chaos, it was just a matter of time before shit went down tonight.

Rafe had his arm thrown around my shoulders as we walked down the path to the boneyard. I could faintly see Topper and Kelce downing the cups of pogue provided beer. Didn’t matter whether or not the kooks or pogues could get along, as long as it was on the cut and alcohol was provided, the teens could get along for a limited amount of time.

“Hey y/n! What are you doing here? I thought you were leaving for college this week?” It was Sarah who yelled out to me, running up to her brother and I in her floral printed dress. Rafe’s arm dropped to his side as she came with Topper not far behind.

“Oh I just couldn’t miss my last kegger before leaving, Duke can wait on me one more day.” The two of us embraced in one of those hugs that has you shifting your weight from side to side. I guess she didn’t realize I wouldn’t leave for college for another month, but I was sure she was already too drunk for me to explain it to her that she was not thinking of the right month.

As Sarah was hanging onto me probably a little too tight, Topper was giving Rafe one of those looks that said everything but also nothing at the same time. Like prior knowledge had to be known to understand the context. I of course did not, those two always had some stupid shit planned and I can almost guarantee it had to do with messing up the pogues’ little party.

The sun hung low on the horizon after I had finished my third cup, the colors illuminating the sky so brilliantly it felt like a fantasy. I stripped off my top and headed for the water, the pinks and purples of the sky reflected in its crashing waters. It was so cold, the temperature sent shivers up my body and a familiar rush in my energy. Almost waist deep now, I submerged my body completely under the water. It was always how I remembered it, calm and refreshing.

“C’mon Rafe! Don’t be a little bitch and get in there, I see the way you look at her,” Topper spewed, pushing his friend to have a little courage.

“Man what the fuck are you even talking about?” Deny everything Rafe thought.

“Oh come on dude, you’ve been making please love me eyes at her since the sixth grade, and please fuck me eyes at her since the tenth, when are you gonna do something about it for once? You’ve got a month to make a move, or regret it your entire life,” Topper continued his monologue as Rafe tuned him out, too distracted by the girl, his girl, staring out into the Atlantic like it was calling to her.

His heart was pounding as he made a B-line for the water, a light jog, but not so fast someone would think he’s crazy, or just madly in love. He swiftly pulled his polo over and off his head before plunging into the chilly water. Topper clearly knew whatever he'd said had worked.

I heard him before I saw him, Rafe approached and submerged himself just as I had a few minutes before.

“If we get hypothermia I'm sending you my hospital bills.” He laughed, wading around in the shallow water.

“Oh shock! Rafe Cameron threatening his medical bill payments? I never could’ve guessed!” We enjoyed our few minutes of peace before talking again.

“But it’s basically impossible anyways, you get use to it after awhile, maybe it’ll calm your hot-headed ass down,” I giggled and prepared for what always came next. Rafe pickup me up around my waist, lifting me over his shoulder before attempting to sprint as fast as he could deeper into the water. His hands had been wrapped around the back of my knees for a few moments until he threw himself and I down into the deeper water, both of us completely submerged beneath the surface.

The sun was dipping below the horizon now, and the deep blue of the sky was beginning to envelop the boneyard. We had come up for air, and I began splashing him with the water around us, payback for his antics. Theres no way in hell I’d be able to throw him down into the water too, this was the best I could come up with. The two of us were laughing before Rafe grabbed my arms and twisted me around so my back was flesh against his front. I gave up on trying to fight him off. Instead I just rested against him in an attempt to catch my breath.

“Hey Rafe, can we talk about something?” Oh fuck she knows, he thought. This was gonna be it, it’s going to fuck up his entire plan.

“Yeah, uh sure, like here?” He questioned.

“Maybe not here, I think we’ve got as audience,” he knew she was referring to Topper and Kelce, they were watching from the beach.

"The truck then?" I nodded my head, not at all prepared for the favor I needed to ask of him.

The sand stuck to my feet as we headed back to where his truck was, the chilly air wrapping around my body. Rafe opened the backseat door and pulled out a towel for me, always prepared. He pulled the passenger side door and I slid into the seat, the heat of his car pumping through the interior. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t sure if his was too. We made it about halfway to tannyhill before speaking.

“Soooo,” he said.

“You’re going to think I’m absolutely crazy, Rafe," I laughed in an attempt to hide my nervousness.

"First of all, you're already crazy, and second of all, I'm pretty sure I know exactly what you're going to say," his hands were clenching the steering wheel harder now.

""Oh really? You already knew that I was going to ask you to take my virginity?" I don't know why, but I just blurted it out.

His car came to a screeching halt on the side of the road, lunging me forward as he stared in disbelief at the road infront of him.

"Im sorry, what did you just say?"

"That I want you to take my virginity? V-card? Cherry? Damn Rafe how else am I supposed to say it?"

"And," there was a pause in his voice like he didn't believe me, "your being serious, correct?"

“Correct.”

“And, come again? I need to hear that one more time.”

“Jesus fuck Rafe, I’m being dead serious, I want you to take my virginity, what about that is so hard to explain?” It came out as more of a yell than a scream, he took a long sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. He was thinking long and hard, I knew because he always had something to say, and now he wasn’t saying anything at all. It felt like hours had past before he spoke again.

“Why?”

It was my turn for a long sigh.

“Well, I guess I’ve been thinking about it for awhile, and I want to do it, but whenever I think about it in my head the only person I can see doing it with is you. You’re the only person I trust enough with my own body, I mean shit,” I had to think for a long time before admitting what came next.

“Whenever someone, you know like Scarlet or whoever, asks about who I’m interested in or whatever it may be, not a single person ever comes to mind except you, it’s like all I see when I look at you is you, everything else is like blurred around you and whenever I think about who the love of my life will be, I always think of you, not some mystery guy that I haven’t met yet.” I didn’t plan for this to be a full confession on how I feel about him, but here I am spilling everything I’ve been holding in my heart for the last three years.

“And I know that sounds fucking stupid I know, I mean we’re still teenagers for crying out loud, but when I’m with you it always feels like I’m home.” I was nearly crying at this point, struggling to get the words out of my chest that had been waiting for so long. He was listening, deadly quiet, and I had no idea what he was thinking for once in my life.

“You know what? Just forget about it, can you take me home please?” I was definitely crying now, it felt like I’d ripped my own heart to shreds. Theres no way he could ever feel the same way about me, he protected me like I was his own blood, not like he was in love with me. My face was nestled into the sleeve of my hoodie as the tears came out. His hands had moved back to the steering wheel now, gripping onto it so tight I thought it might break. The muscles in his forearms almost looked like they were twitching, but he still had the car in park.

He wanted to just grab her and kiss her right now, the girl he'd been in love with since the sixth grade sitting in his passenger seat, her seat, confessing her feelings to him. Rafe knew it was alot for her to ask, but it meant even more to him everything that she had said after her original question. And there was no way in hell he was going to let her get away again.

Rafe reached his hand over to hold onto her tear stained cheek.

"y/n," The bother of them were breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you," it slipped from my mouth and he leaned in to kiss me. It felt like I had a wave of electricity coursing through my body. His hand grasping onto my face as he leaned over the center console. My hand reaching for his chest, his lips on mine as we intertwined with one another. It felt like everything in my life was complete, and the tension has been released. His fingers tangled in my hair.

It was over before I realized it, and Rafe was driving me home. My breathing hadn't normalized in any way, it was like I needed to throw up my heart to get the knot out. I couldn't stop thinking about the way his had felt on me, the way his lips felt on mine, the way it felt for once in my life like I was loved.

"i'll think about it," his voice cracked.

I leapt out of his car as fast as I could with tears streaming down my face. Did he feel the same? Did he not? My brain was spinning so fast I barely made it inside my bedroom door before collapsing. I wrapped myself up in the thick comforter, a heart full of ache and a body exhauster with sleep.

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

#rafe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron #obx smut #obx #outerbanks smut #outerbanks

[princecharmingmendes]

Birthday Girl | Raul Mendes

Where Raul makes sure his girl will have the best birthday ever despite anything else

Hello everyone, pausing a bit on the Heart by Heart series (I'll be back to it Thursday as usual) to celebrate the beautiful and amazing @sinceweremutual birthday! This a small blurb/oneshot I started writing as soon as I found out her birthday was today, so I hope this was worth it. Happy Reading!

And honey, happy birthday! Hope you like it!

-*-

*Word Count: 3.5K+

*Warnings: stablished relationship, minor cursing and overly sweet Raul.

*Posted: August 15th, 2021.

-*-

Y/N loved her precious hours of sleep.

Loved the sensation of waking up and knowing she had some time to go back to bed and cuddle back into her pillows (or boyfriend if he haven’t left already). She liked sleeping in just a bit more on the weekends and taking naps after a long hard day. Last night was not an exception. Her day sucked and Raul was stuck at the hospital for a night shift, only being able to make it back home on the early hours of the morning.

They weren’t necessarily living together yet, but they’ve been together for almost two years, having known each other for a lot more than that and nowadays the pretty much were always together, but both had their own apartment, even though they’re barely separated. So she came back to his apartment since he promised he’d come as soon as he was allowed to join her in her sleep.

Her day sucked. Her boss was unnecessarily mean towards her for a mistake she did not commit and wasn’t her responsibility to make sure that wouldn’t happen. Then she had to spend the whole day fixing the other team’s mistake and it took over three hours and a bunch of paperwork, but at the end of the day she was able to figure it out. Only to receive a half assed apology, her boss blaming it on his wife’s strange behavior or whatever lame excuse he could find to put the blame on someone else.

So by the time she reached his apartment she felt dead at her feet, only having enough energy left to shower and pull on one of Raul’s hoodie over her head, burying her nose on his faint scent in the fabric, before falling onto her back in his bed and allowing herself to relax. What was supposed to be a five minute nap, ended up being the whole night, even skipping dinner in favor of resting in peace, nuzzling further into her boyfriend’s bedding.

Raul got home around 2 a.m. and found his girl asleep in his bed, holding his pillow tight to her chest and he could feel his heart swelling in his chest at the sight. He carefully dropped his things in the closet before coming out to check if she was still asleep and unperturbed with him roaming around, and his suspicious were confirmed by her steady breathing and peaceful demeanor. He decided it was best to take a quick shower before diving under the covers with Y/N and pulling her into his chest.

He was at the hospital for goodness sake.

As soon as he was out of the bathroom and back into his dark room, with only a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips, he plugged his phone, checking his alarms and carefully climbing onto the bed. But as soon as the mattress dipped under his weight, he noticed Y/N shifting on her side, and he stilled his movements to check if he had woken her up or was just a dream.

Y/N turned her face to his side completely, eyes still hazy and sleep clouding her senses “Baby?”

“Hi, sweetheart, it’s just me” he mumbled hovering over her with his hands planted on each side of her head to hold himself up, before he leaned down to press featherlight kissed all over her face.

“Kissy?” her voice small and soaked in sleep as she puckered her lips at him.

Raul let out a low and warm chuckle, making an involuntary smile appear in her lips as she looked up at him, feeling all fuzzy inside with the sound of his voice and the way he looked at her, before leaning down and placing a slow peck on her pout “you know you can get all the kisses in the world, my love, you don’t even have to ask” he then connected their lips again in a longer yet sweet kiss as she sighed into his mouth happily.

“Missed you” she said as soon as he pulled away, only to place his pillow back in its place so he could lay down properly, then pulling her pliant body to accommodate on top of his.

He hummed placing a kiss to her forehead as she curled her body around his, throwing a leg over his to tangle them “Missed you too, but I’m here now and you should rest, your four minutes voice message was enough for me to know you need to relax”

Y/N just nodded nuzzling her face in his neck sighing contently as he rubbed circles on her back, slowly drifting off himself as well “good night, darling, sweet dreams” he whispered into her hair but she was already asleep, but that didn’t stop her from tightening her embrace on him.

-*-

She had a peaceful night of sleep until being coaxed awake with a bunch of tiny soft kisses being placed all over her face, making her scrunch her nose before slowly blinking her eyes open. She was met with her gorgeous boyfriend hovering over her with his megawatt smile he reserved only for her shining bright. Y/N giggled softly tucking her head on the bicep on her left that was holding his weight above her. Raul couldn’t help but laugh at her.

“Good morning, birthday girl” he murmured a bit raspy as he dragged his lips across her cheek until she looked up at him with a smile on her face.

“Hm good morning” she mumbled sleepily letting her eyes fall closed.

“Oh no, don’t sleep on me” he whined and she giggled.

“I’m not sleeping, silly, just resting a bit”

Raul let out a low chuckle before kissing the tip of her nose “happy birthday, my love”

“Happy birthday indeed” she mumbled before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to lay on top of her.

But before he could smash her into the mattress he was quick to roll them both over “no, no sleeping again” he laughed sitting them both up with Y/N on his lap.

“Why not?” she was physically unable to stop herself from pouting.

He only smiled sympathetically at her “you made me promise you I wouldn’t let you skip work today, and that was only two days ago and I don’t break the promises I make to you”

Y/N groaned rolling her eyes “stupid past me who thought working was worth skipping a day with you when I’ll have a crowded night and won’t even properly be able to enjoy my time with you”

“Having second thoughts on your night out, sweetheart?” he asked teasingly and she nodded “well, good thing Angela texted me to tell me she’s not making it tonight so she’ll reschedule with you later”

“Really??” she asked with a smile “I know I shouldn’t sound too excited about this, but this week was so long and I needed some chill time, you and a movie would be wonderful”

He only giggled and leaned his forehead against hers “That can be arranged, darling”

“Good” she hummed gently with a smile.

“Kissy?” Raul begged with a pout but a slightly teasing tilt in his voice.

It took her a while to realize he was mocking her from last night and she felt her face burning up “oh fuck you” she said trying to leave abruptly, but his arm around her kept her pinned in his lap as he laughed.

“No, no, drop it, it was just a joke, you were just so cute last night, could never say no to you” he mumbled kissing her jaw “come in, don’t be mad at me, I’ll do that thing you like for dinner, yeah?”

“This doesn’t sound like a food offer” she said with knowing look in her eyes and he had a smirk on his lips before she had even finished her sentence, making a laugh bubble up her throat “you’re the actual worst!”

Raul threw his head back in laughter, placing a kiss on her cheeks “come on, it was just a joke, you know I’ll give you anything you’d want, doll” and his eyes were so serious and so tender she almost melted into his chest.

“Oh God, it’s barely seven in the morning, I’m barely functioning and awake, and you’re already flirting, how do you manage that?” she asked incredulously, looking at him and he just laughed shaking his head.

“Well, I can’t help it when you look like that” he mumbled leaning in closer, rubbing their noses together.

“Like what?”

“Like the love of my life” he answered like it was the most obvious thing in the planet.

And he did it so easily, not even flinching at that, leaving her speechless.

Their relationship started with teasing and mindless flirting, becoming close friends pretty quickly. He flirted with everyone without even realizing, it was just natural, and she was just good with quick funny and slightly flirty remarks they just clicked. Their friendship blurred into a serious romantic relationship so easily, everyone surrounding them rooting hot it to happen. So this wasn’t necessarily a weird situation, they’ve been like this for years, but sometimes he’d utter the sweetest confessions between the little teasings and jokes with such rawness and adoration in his eyes that she’d end up frozen in place.

He did it because it would turn things a little easier to digest and he felt better that way, wouldn’t feel so intimidated since, and Y/N didn’t mind. She knew he could be honest and serious whenever he needed, but these tiny declarations that could be fitted into a casual conversation about their grocery list always caught her off guard. And it was so genuine and spontaneous, she couldn’t help but fall even harder for him.

So she just stared at him in awe for a couple of seconds before realizing she hadn’t said anything in return, before she babbled up a “I love you too”

Raul couldn’t contain the fond smile gracing his lips before he leaned in and pressed a long yet sweet peck at her lips “wait here only a sec, yeah?”

“What? Baby, you said no surprises!” she whined but got out of his lap anyway and he only smiled at her.

“It’s not a huge surprise or anything, I promise” he said before leaving her laying in his bed.

“Of course that is the only promise he’s able to break” Y/N grumbled under her breath grumpily.

Then she heard Raul chuckle as he approached the room again “I can hear you, you know?” and she only rolled her eyes from the bed and gasping as soon as she met him by the door.

He was holding a huge breakfast tray that had absolutely all of her favorite breakfast food and a beautiful flower arrange holding her favorite ones. The smile on her face was enough to make him aware that waking up after only 4 hours of sleep were worth it, and he’d do it all over again just to see her smile like that again.

“You didn’t have to” was all she could mutter.

Raul smiled and nodded “I know, I just wanted to make your day a bit better before work, and we can celebrate later”

“Thank you” she said in a hushed tone as he placed the tray on the nightstand, and as soon as it was out of danger of suffering a strike she lunged forward wrapping him in a hug as she knocked them both on the bed again “thank you so much”

Raul laughed wrapping his arms around her waist tighter “you’re so very welcome” he said as he placed a kiss to her hair.

“I love you so much” she mumbled squeezing him just a bit tighter.

“I know, love” he said with a hand tilting her chin up look at him “but I love you so much more”

“Ew” she teased and he laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and shaking his head.

He snorted making her laugh “Cruel beautiful thing”

Y/N leaned down to press a kiss to his lips “good thing you love me more than” mumbling before sitting back up to eat her breakfast.

And that was how she got ready for work, with one of the best breakfasts she’s ever had in her life, and sure the food as good, but that wasn’t all of it. She was still at home, in bed and content. Then after eating through light banter and little silly jokes, Raul followed her around his room and watched her get ready for work. She had enough stuff in his house she could easily live in there for a while, since it’s where they spent most of their time. So as soon as she was ready, with her boyfriend still hot in her tracks with every move she made, trailing behind her.

“Okay” she said as she grabbed her purse “this is your day off and I know you’re up super early for this and came home super late, so please sleep”

“Why? You plan on keeping me up all night?” he teased with his signature smirk and Y/N shook her head laughing.

She gently cupped his cheeks in both of her hands “you need to sleep, doctor’s orders, honey”

“I'm the doctor here” he protested and she only shook her head in response.

“Well, I’m in control here, mister, so to bed you go”

“Fine, but I’ll pick you up, alright?” he said pressing a kiss to her forehead and she nodded “Love you”

“Love you too”

-*-

Six p.m. sharp she heard her phone buzzing softly, indicating her overly excited boyfriend was already downstairs waiting for her. So Y/N started grabbing her things, letting him know she’d be there soon, and turning off her computer for the weekend. Before she could even get up from her chair, she saw her coworker and friend, Claire running towards her with a big smile on her face.

“Your prince charming is here!” she beamed and Y/N cringed at how loud she exclaimed.

“Keep it down, people are still working” she hissed at her friend but she only rolled her eyes at her antics in response.

“Come on, don’t leave him waiting!”

She shook her head laughing softly “okay, okay, I’m leaving”

“Happy birthday, girl, enjoy your six feet boyfriend”

Y/N looked at her funny “I will, thank you? What did he say to you?”

“Just go! And text me later!” she said as she pushed Y/N into the elevator, pressing the buttons and leaving her alone.

She laughed to herself, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder as she looked down at her phone, her foot tapping against the marble floor as she waited for the doors to open, and as they did, all the stress rolled off of her. Raul was standing just in front of her building wearing a beautiful button up, with a chain necklace hanging from his neck and peaking through the first opened buttons. His black shades covering his beautiful eyes and showing the reason behind his reputation of being a bad boy, when in reality he was just a softie.

But in his hands, he had another bouquet of flowers and as soon as he set his eyes on her, his face brightened up with a big smile. He was just leaning on his jeep and as she got closer he straightened his posture and took the final steps to meet her in between. He pressed a quick peck to her lips and extended the flowers to her, keeping their affection to minimum since neither of them were a fan of PDA.

“Hi there, gorgeous” she said trying to mimic his flirty tone and he only chuckled.

Raul opened the door for her “Hello, my love, ready for our birthday celebration?”

She kissed his cheek as she climbed in, bouquet on her lap as she buckled up “Is there food involved?”

“Of course, homemade and everything” he said closing the door before climbing on the drivers seat.

“Are you for real?” she asked as she turned to face him.

He only smiled starting the car, backing up and starting to drive them both to his place “Of course, could never lie to you, and it’s your favorite, even asked you grandmother for the recipe”

“Oh shit!” she squealed from her seat and he smiled at her nodding “you have to be kidding me”

“You can call her” Raul said teasingly “Or you could trust your very honest and loving boyfriend, both pretty simple options”

Y/N laughed shaking her head “you’re absolutely ridiculous”

“But you love me” he quickly added and she couldn’t stop herself from laughing harder.

“Of course I do, silly, it’s impossible not to when you’re literally being the best human being I’ve ever met and always making sure I’m happy” she said looking at the flowers on her lap before looking up at Raul.

“Stop it, you’re gonna make me cry” he teased and she shook her head with a giggle “I just want to make you happy, promised it to your mom and myself”

“And you’re acing this” she said and he grabbed her hand, planting a kiss on the back of it before parking on the garage of his building.

“Baby, before we go back home, could you please grab me my wallet, I think it's one the glove compartment” he mumbled grabbing his phone probably to reply to someone’s text.

And she did, but she was not expecting what she saw.

Inside the glove compartment there were a bunch of polaroids of them and rose petals scattered around, and right on the back of it there was a little key hanging under the phrase ‘move in with me, please?’ written in his calligraphy. She was still processing the whole thing when he cleaned his throat slightly nervous, making her look up at him with wide eyes and still not sure what to say.

“I know this is your birthday, and this is technically a gift for me, but I really couldn’t wait another day” he said softly, seemingly shyer than his usual confident self, making her heart swell twice its size in her chest.

“Raul, I- yeah, yes, of course I’ll move in with you!” she practically jump on him as much as she could due to the fact that they’re still in his car and space was limited.

Y/N was quick to capture his lips in a searing kiss and she felt him relax under her touch, tucking her bottom lip between his two, a hand cupping her face as the other held her waist to give her some sort of support on the pose she had. She backed way to recover a bit of breath she didn’t think she would need when she lunged forward to her boyfriend, so instead the pecked his lips only about a million times, making him laugh and press one long kiss to her lips then leaning away completely.

“Glad you agreed to it, cause I already told your parents” he said a bit nervous about it, a sly smile gracing his features to match his rosy cheeks.

“Of course you did” she said with a smile “what about yours? Are they okay with it?”

“Are you kidding me?? Mom wanted you to move in like three years ago” he said as he grabbed the key and the photos from the glove compartment “sorry, sweetheart, this is actually symbolic since you already have a key and this is actually mine”

“Figured” she laughed as she grabbed her stuff “And what do you mean three years ago? We weren’t even officially together back then”

Raul shrugged “guess that’s a mom thing, she said something about having never seen me this happy before and she was sure we were in love with each other, turns out she was right, I already loved you back then and didn’t want to admit it, and yeah, you make me the happiest man alive, sweetheart”

“You're absolutely ridiculous but I still love you” Y/N admitted and he smiled at her.

“I know” he opened his door “your real present, meal and a few other stuff are waiting for you upstairs”

“Oh my God, you really went all in” she giggled getting out of the car, and as soon as she was out, he was quick to pick her up bridal style making her squeak “what the hell are you doing?”

He looked down at her, taking a while to cal the elevator “Isn’t this how we’re supposed to do it?”

“Baby, I’m sure it’s only the door, not all the floors and we’re not married” she said with a giggled

“Well, miss skepticism, just let me be a goofball once in a while” he said with a mocking tone.

“Once in a while?” she asked incredulously.

He had a pout on his lips when he spoke up again “Come on, no teasing when I’m trying to be a hopeless romantic, please let me do this and treat you right” he said with a smile

“Alright, whatever you want” she admitted in defeat as she giggled, wrapping her arms around her neck “just don’t drop me, please”

“Would never, sweetheart”

-*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

#shawn mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes writing #the mendes triplets #raul mendes #raul mendes writing #raul mendes au #the mendes triplets au #mendes triplets #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x you #raul mendes x reader #writing

[peter-parcoeur]

Good girl gone bad | (frat!tom)

request: How about frat cocky Tom at a Christmas party, wearing something that shows off his muscles, and he keeps flirting with y/n, who hates him. Throughout the night, he slowly wins her over, and once he has her in the palm of his hand, he makes her compliment him and then worship his muscles and then get on her knees and suck on him through his boxer briefs and then finally he f*cks her face and he's dirty talking and boasting all the way through :)

disclaimer: Hiii, so this was a request (sadly anonymous but if you’re out there reading this, I hope you enjoy and this lives up to your expectations...) this is my first attempt at fratboy!tom so I apologize in advance if that’s not exactly what you expected from it or whatever. Also I’m french so, some unfortunate spelling mistakes may occur and for this I apologize too! (damn I do really know how to sell myself, don’t I?) Anyway, enjoy your reading and please give it a ♥ if you liked it and a comment if you either really liked or hated it. Annnnd I’m talking too much.

warnings: smut smut smutty smut is to be expected, obviously. includes: brat!tom, braggy!tom, boasting!tom and some serious potty mouth / enemies to lovers (well, more like enemies to fuckbuddies idk) / oral-sex / face-fuck / dirtyDIRTY talk/ fingering / brief mentions of self luuuuvin (that’s masturbation, for you) / dom!tom + sub!reader / I guess a little bit of humiliation and praise kink idk if that’s triggering so just in case... / roughness... I guess that’s it? probably enough already.

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« Come on, it’ll be fun! God knows you could really use some fun… » your friend’s voice almost begged over the phone as you safely locked it between your cheek and your shoulder to open the door to your dorm room, your keyrings grazing the piece of metal surrounding the lock with a soft, clicking noise.

“Yeah cause hanging out with complete morons as they get shit-faced on cheap vodka is totally my idea of a good night...”

“ Urghhhh, Y/N please, are you really gonna be a Grinch about it?”

“  Well, it’s a Christmas party so I guess that’s convenient?”

You could tell your friend was getting frustrated by now, the slight change of tone in her voice making her sound desperate. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your books above the mess on your desk, you immediately crashed onto your bed with a loud, exhausted groan as this never-ending day had managed to push every single one of your buttons. You felt completely drained and yet, your best-friend wanted you to join her to some frat-house where, apparently, the “most incredible” Christmas party was about to be held? Uh-uh. No way. Your actual plan for a Friday night (= eating take-out food in front of some true crime documentary on Netflix) seemed much more appealing than the effort your friend seemed to require from you.

“You’re really gonna bail on me? What if something happens to me?”

“Now this is guilt pressure and you’re so much better than this! “ You laughed, “plus… I know you wanna go just so you can make out with Harrison… You really don’t need me for this and truth be told, I really don’t need to see that guy shove his tongue down your throat!”

“Maybe YOU need someone to shove his tongue down your throat “

“I’ll pass, thanks “

“Come on, how long has it been since you’ve got laid? “

“That’s… way beside the point?””

Still, you thought about it.

How long has it been, really?

Well. As far as you could remember, there were a couple (disastrous) tinder dates at the beginning of the semester. Nothing major even though the sex was still okay. Then you had decided to delete the app so you could focus on your studies, thinking that, eventually, life would grant you with an actual IRL, cute boy who could actually work a little harder to get into your pants whereas it had taken a single swipe on a screen for the previous contestants.

But for now, as the semester had come to an end and Christmas break was around the corner, it only occurred to you just how busy you had been, studying all night long and running on fumes and gallons of coffee. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you truly needed to blow off some steam. Sometimes you wished you were more like her, carefree and less picky when it came to boys and random flings. Like her current crush, Harrison.

Harrison was a typical heartthrob with the face of a Greek God, so it was only natural for him to act like a brat and play with girls as he wished. With his piercing blue eyes and dreamy smile, girls could only wish he would look at them twice. But still, he wasn’t the worst part of Team Jackass, as you liked to call them. Their captain was actually Tom Holland. Football Quarterback, Tom collected girls’ hearts like trophies and held his pride within his questionable reputation. Party animal, heavy drinker and confirmed exhibitionist since he’d been caught fucking a cheerleader in the middle of the football field right after a game, his name was on everyone’s lips, whether they whispered gossips down the faculty’s corridor or muffled into a pillow as he dived into another naïve, besotted girl with the promise of an encore. To this day, all of the girls he had laid his eyes on were still waiting for a call-back.

You pulled a disgusted face at the thought of witnessing his little hunting game one more time. Tom was actually one of the main reasons why you usually skipped any frat party now. There were just so much time you could waste, sipping on some funky tasting “home-made” punch as “Football superstar” Tom Holland bragged about his athletic skills or how many girls he had fucked over the last couple days. Sometimes, it felt like a competition between him and his brain-dead friends. Somehow, you just knew he kept score of his one-night stands. Maybe he’d give you five stars for trying anal, a deep throat would give you another six and god forbid if you flattered his enormous, gigantic cock, well then, by all means, the throne would be yours. There was just something about him that screamed and irradiated praise kink.

“Y/N? Have I lost you?”

Your friend’s voice brought you back to reality as you seemed to have blacked out for a while.

Then, out of nowhere and unexpectedly, the words came out of your mouth.

“What time is the party then?”

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For every party, there’s a dress code.

Surely, a “Christmas” party just couldn’t be, without a fair splash of colorful jumpers or any subtle hints at Santa Clause as an excuse for a last-minute theme. Still, standing in front of what could only be Wednesday Addams’ wardrobe, you were suddenly hit by your lack of interest for any piece of clothes that wasn’t a shade between black and white. Was beige even a color anyway?

For a brief second, you considered wearing your infamous Christmas onesie, basically a fluffy one piece with a zipper, an oversized hood and covered with snowflakes and candy canes. The jokes would never end but no one could blame you for being ‘off theme’, then.

In the end, you settled for a rare “colorful” top which, luckily, happened to be whatever shade of green Christmas trees actually were. It was also skin tight and you knew for a fact it made your chest looks twice its size because of the way the velvet fabric enhanced your waistline. It was nowhere near provocative with its long sleeves and turtle-neck so you figured you could be a little bit more risky with the bottom part of your outfit, grabbing the black mini-skirt you’d bought a week before on a splurge, even though you didn’t know if you’d ever find the confidence to pull it off. It was short, there was no denying that as you turned around in the shop’s fitting room to catch a glimpse at your backside, knowing your whole ass would be exposed if you ever dared to bend down even so slightly.

Still, you felt sexy in it and as a girl who happily traded a sexy dress for yoga pants and an oversized hoodie, any piece of clothes that made you feel good about yourself was an instant buy.

Looking down at your final outfit as it laid down on your bed, a pair of nice ankle boots at the bottom of it, you patted yourself on the back for making the extra effort and walked to the bathroom for a well-deserved boiling shower.  Staring at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you sighed to yourself as the aftermath of a sleep deprived week and lack of skin care routine or basic maintenance whatsoever hit you like a truck on the highway. Your hair had been wrapped into the same messy bun for days and it would definitely take some professional skills to cover up the bags under your eyes.

Maybe this party was the wake-up call you needed, the equivalent of a Judging look from your mother every time you visited her after a while. You could almost hear her complain about how unhealthy you looked and how you should wear more “flattering” clothes. Ironically, you also knew she would never approve the skirt you intended to wear that night. You remembered just too well that frown she’d given you at your father’s 60th birthday and how you had to gulp an entire bottle of red wine to forget about the fact the woman who gave birth to you had called you a prostitute for wearing a dress above the knees. Sometimes it’d be like that. Family gathering were like a plague, somehow, you just couldn’t escape it and it would either scar you for life or make you wish you were dead.

As you entered the cubicle, the coldness of the tiles hit you, covering your skin with goosebumps and sending shivers down your spine. It took you a couple minutes to adjust as you waited for the water to turn hot enough to coat the mirror with a thick foggy layer. Only then did you relax, letting go of this week’s emotionally charged weight upon your shoulders and focusing on yourself, at last.

It was a fairly long shower as you decided to go through your entire haircare routine instead of a brief, one minute shampoo. Not to mention the fact you also had to shave entirely as it felt like it would be a good way to get rid of this nightmare of a semester, like stepping out of your old skin and into a new one. Usually, body hair was probably too far down the list of your preoccupations to even be noticed but you figured, as you felt surprisingly motivated, now was the right time to make your body smooth as a baby. You actually loved the feeling of a soft, freshly shaved skin.

As you rinsed off the soap, your hands fondling the body parts water failed to reach, your mind unexpectedly wandered through some steamy thoughts as soon as your fingertips grazed your slit, taking some shy dip between your folds. It was no surprise that a simple, barely there stroke would instantly strike your arousal, after all, it had been a while. You shamelessly admitted that your studies had taken over your life, up to the point you’d even find yourself too exhausted for some self-love. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, the small collection of adult toys you owned were probably collecting dust in the middle of your socks and panties, wondering when they’d get to take a swim and make you squirm into your sheets as you hold on to the headboard, biting your lip until it turns white so you don’t scream through climax.

What struck you the most was the fact TomfuckingHolland came to your mind the very second your middle finger met your clit, circling it softly as you felt electricity spark through your legs, making it jolt. Why the hell was his stupid smug splattered all over your unspeakable thoughts when he was, by far, the last man on Earth you’d let come close to your naked self? Let alone in a shower cubicle the size of a shoe-box where you’d have no space whatsoever to escape his heavy, muscular chest.

His body looked ridiculously built for a man with the face of a 13 year-old. Sometimes you’d catch him randomly flex throughout the day, showing off his enormous biceps to anyone willing to praise his impeccable shape. There would be no room for these guns in there, you thought as a brief image of these massive arms shielding you from both side, fists tight against the tiles, came immediately to your mind. What took you by surprise wasn’t to actually picture Tom standing in there with you, naked and definitely willing to make that room a lot steamier, but the fact you slipped a finger into your surprisingly dripping core as soon as you imagined him stepping closer so your bare, sticky chests would meet, his obvious arousal poking at your inner thigh, begging to make an entrance.

You stopped before you inevitably came, even though your body craved for that well-deserved relief. You may have been hornier than you thought, but not nearly horny enough to hand your first orgasm in months on a silver plate to a boy who probably stroked himself in front of a mirror on a daily basis. Your thighs squeezed together where your fingers had left a desperate void, rinsing your entire body with a much colder water, hoping it would bring your sanity back.

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You looked incredible.

It wasn’t just you boosting your ego through a pep talk in front of your mirror back in your dorm this time, and even if you loved to give yourself an encouraging speech, praising whatever features you thought made the cut in the top three of your best assets as you gathered the strength to go out in public in an outfit pretty far from your comfort zone, nothing could ever beat the look people gave you as you walked into the frat house looking like a three courses meal. There was just something about that short time slot where you caught a gaze and knew what that look was all about.

You knew Liza, the head student with a soft spot for athletes so obvious she probably had the entire football team’s handprints tattooed on her skin, just hated to see you get the attention she usually caught. Athletes loved nerdy, smart-ass girls like her, but to her own despair, you actually happened to be one of those, only with a shorter skirt and thicker thighs.

You knew half of Team Jackass was already staring at you, wishing they’d catch a glimpse of whatever you had to offer underneath that impeccable outfit as the soft fabric of your skirt kept rising up, every step bringing you closer to an unfortunate peek at the plain, white cotton undies you had chosen to wear that night.

But above anything, you could most definitely feel someone’s gaze upon you, burning up your skin like lasers trying to scan through your clothes. Suddenly, you felt exposed and with a simple smirk, Tom-Holland came out, strong as ever, just so he could pop out the comforting bubble you had built around you. Of course, he had chosen to wear the tightest white tee-shirt so everyone could distinctively see each of his six, rock-hard abs. Of course, his sleeves were slightly rolled up to enhance his biceps and if you weren’t familiar with his despicable behavior, seeing him flex just so he could kiss the pumped-up mount irrupting from his upper arm like a fresh batch of popcorn on a stove, you could have barfed immediately at the disgusting sight of a man with an ego the size of a fucking comet.

For now, you simply rolled your eyes all the way to the back of your head and watched as he smiled cockily, his hand reaching out for a redhead girl’s cheek even though his eyes were most definitely undressing you from afar. You could tell the girl had dressed to impress as she was tightly wrapped into the just-slutty-enough version of Santa’s outfit. Basically a velvet red dress with a fluffy white strap on top of her bustier. The way she laughed and twirled her long curly strand of hair as she gazed lovingly at Tom was enough for you to know she would soon join the never-ending list of names on his score board.

Shaking your head at how easy it seemed for him to get laid within the first hour of a party, you made your way to the kitchen where the alcohol seemed to be. As expected, most students were already sipping at some questionable cocktail right from the bowl with a straw and since you didn’t feel like going straight for the strong stuff, you settled for a beer, fiddling with the bottle cap for a solid minute before you heard a voice coming from behind your back.

“Need some hand with that, sweetheart?”

The cocky tone and thick accent immediately sent you off as a long, single shiver ran down your spine from the disgusting thoughts it brought along. It had come to the point you couldn’t even stand his stupid voice.

“I’m fine, thanks” you lied, your first still tightly gripped on your sealed beverage.

“You look like you could use some strength…”

Of course, he had to bring up his impressive, spectacular strength within seconds. Maybe he expected you to slow clap, bow down or throw confetti’s all over him for being strong enough to open a beer bottle. What on Earth would you do without his strong, manly hands?

Grinding your teeth as your tongue clicked against your palate out of pure annoyance, you gave him the most unimpressed look as he grabbed the bottle from your hand, popping out the cap hard enough to make it fly off and hit the table with a soft, metallic thump. Smirking to himself, Tom handed you the bottle back, tilting his head as he obviously expected some enthusiastic reaction.

“Do you want a medal or something?”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would be a good start? “He mocked, raising his eyebrows in a way that made your consider throwing the entire bottle at his face to wash away his stupid cockiness.

“Thanks” you simply blurted out, raising your beer slightly before walking away as you took a couple sips. It wasn’t even that cold or remotely good.

Tom watched as you walked away in silence, his eyes inevitably drawn to the way your hips and that glorious ass of yours seemed to wiggle into that daunting skirt. Grazing his thumb over his bottom lip with a smirk, the eager flame in his eyes made his will to take you to a quiet place grow bigger with each step you took.

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The music was getting considerably louder as people were now dancing all over the place, from the staircase to whatever was left of furniture after too many parties hosted in this house.  The constant buzzing sound of chit-chats and laughter was slowly making your head spin as you gulped on your third (or was it the fourth?) Shot of tequila. As expected, Y/BFF/N had wasted no time as she was already clinging to Harrison’s neck, feasting on his mouth like an open buffet. His hands were on her bum, holding on to it for dear life with a strong grip. At least, she was having fun.

Out of boredom and to your own surprise, you had agreed on doing shots with a couple people you knew from class. Not technically what you’d call reliable friends but you always bumped into them at parties where you’d basically chat, and drink. From afar, you could see some people had gathered around a table where Team Jackass had started the inevitable beer pong contest. Nibbling at a piece of lime, hoping it would wash away the burning haze of the tequila, you winced at the sourness as your eyes suddenly locked with Tom’s. He was now holding his arms up on both side, raising one fist through the air as he had clearly won that first round. There was something pathetic about a man in his twenties begging for attention and acting like he was about to claim the gold medal at the Olympics when all he did was throw a feather-weighted plastic ball into a red cup.

All the alcohol in the world would never get you drunk enough to tolerate this guy.

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think it was a shame to see him act so pitiful when he face was actually okay. Well. He was definitely cute as long as his mouth was shut and his stupid, pretentious smug out of the way. With his soft, chocolate brown eyes, his tousled eyebrows and thin pink lips, he could’ve been a guy you’d be interested in. His brown hair was somehow, always tucked into a snapback or a beanie but you had caught a glimpse of his natural curls once and though it killed you on the inside to admit it, he did look great when he didn’t try too hard to be a complete asshole.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t see him walk towards you.

“We’re doing shots now? “

“Impressive” you frowned, “did you figure it out all by yourself?” you chuckled, swallowing what’s left of lime, basically pulp, in one soft gulp.

“You like to act all smart ass around me, don’t you?”

“Correction: I am, in fact, smart… Not that it’s something you’re familiar with so, pardon me if it’s all too confusing for you… “

“Are you calling me dumb, then?” he was frowning now, his enormous self-centered head deflating under the unexpected pressure of your witty come-back.

“Did you hear the word ‘dumb’ coming out of my mouth?”

“No – but I sure know what I would like to see come in that sweet mouth of yours, darling”

The fact he had the nerves to say that kind of stuff right to your face was enough to piss you off but what caught you off guard was his hand reaching for your face as his thumb delicately grazed your bottom lip, pulling at it just enough for you to taste his fingertip.

“Surely, lime isn’t the only thing you like to suck on?” he smiled, cocky as ever as you could feel actual rage building up from your core and all the way to the back of your throat.

“I suggest you keep your hands off me” you snapped, pushing his hand off your face as he laughed to himself, the raspy sound caught in his throat making you throb against all odds.

“Or what? What you gonna do about it, uh?” he teased, confident as ever, his words coming out of his mouth halfway between a threat and a challenge. His arms were crossed against his chest now, making every inch of muscle he owned just pop out. There was nothing sweet about the way his body was built, and was he ever given the occasion, you knew he could break your spine in half with his one hand. You just wished you’d never thought about it as the filthiest images came to your mind, starting with Tom spinning you around over the sink in the bathroom and pinning you down with his palm pressed between your shoulder blades as he pounded hard and fast into you.

Maybe Tequila had gotten to your head faster than you expected.

“I know girls like you” he started, walking backwards until your back hit the wall and you were completely trapped between his arms, one of his leg parting yours so his knee would slowly graze that spot where your thighs met, claiming his access to that precious part of your body you could definitely feel getting damper against your will.

“What about it?” you asked, slightly more provocative than you had intended.

“You like to act all innocent, pretending you have higher standards…” His breath was warm, wrapped into the thickness of alcohol, curving a ball at the back of his throat so his voice would come out raspier and lower than usual, “… but secretly you just want guys like me to fuck the back of your throat until you choke”.

You felt it. Your pussy throb at the single thought of it. You didn’t want to physically react to these obscene images, words coming out of his mouth filthier than anything you’d ever heard, but still, as hard as you wanted to remain cold and unbothered, there was no denying for the dampness between your thighs. You just hoped he wouldn’t get a chance to notice it.

“You disgust me” it took you all the strength you had to spat back at him, and even then, all he did was smile then chuckle softly to himself as his hand slid up your throat, wrapping it slowly until his thumb pressed itself into the crook under your chin, nesting as it was made to be there.

“Please—are you really going to pretend you’ve never thought about my cock filling up your pretty mouth?” his fingers found your lips again, tracing it slowly as your heartbeat increased with each word, “like you’ve never thought about me when you finger yourself at night” he paused, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth as he tilted his head, his mouth coming closer to your hear with a dark whisper “I know you do, baby… I know you touch yourself thinking of me, wishing those fingers were mine, diving into your dripping cunt… Touching spots you could only wish you’d reach… how I would spread those lips open and run my tongue all over your slit….” A warm breeze brushed your neck as a cursed laugh escaped his lips, making you squirm unexpectedly, “I bet you taste so sweet, I would never get enough of that glorious pussy…”

By now, you were wrapped into the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It was strong and manly as expected, yet comforting in a way you didn’t want to think about. You didn’t want to picture yourself wearing that grey hoodie he loved to wear after a game, his perfume raining over your bare chest as you’d lazily ride him on his dorm bed after you’d get bored of whatever movie you’d settled for, pushing your panties to the side as he couldn’t be bothered taking it off completely. You didn’t want to picture him unzipping that same hoodie, palming your boob with one of his strong hands as his mouth sucked on your nipple until your soft, delicate skin turned red from all the biting marks. You didn’t want to feel yourself stretch around his rock-hard cock as he’d lift your legs up to wrap it around his neck, because he’s that kind of jerk who likes to show off even when he’s completely buried inside of you, that kind of complete asshole who loves to remind you just how deep he can go, smirking to himself as he hits your special spot over and over and over…. until you beg for him to stop. That kind of utterly disgusting dickhead who’d never stop, because he knows that, deep down, you just want him to keep going.

“Now you can tell me you’re not already wet… But we both know that’s a lie” he smiled again and as you felt his hand going down, palming you through your top and all the way down to the front of your skirt, you finally decided to come to your senses and grabbed his wrist into your tight fist, stopping him just in time before he’s reached the only approval he truly needed.

“Go to hell, Holland” you snapped, using all of your strength to push him off and walk away.

You didn’t turn back to see him chuckle at the sight of your flushed face.

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The coldness of water came as a shock as you bent over the sink in the bathroom, splashing your face until it didn’t feel like your skin was on fire. Grabbing a towel, you patted your cheeks and forehead, staring at the reflection in front of you. You definitely looked flustered, like you had just run a marathon when all you really did was to suffer through your archenemy’s evil little game.

Usually, you would have just brushed it off and that’d be it. But tonight, for some reason, you just couldn’t seem to shake him off your thoughts, his voice still echoing through your head like a curse without a cure. Outside the bathroom, you could hear the muffled sound of music and screams coming from the living room as beer-pong had turned into strip-pong with everyone removing a piece of clothes every time the ball missed the cup. Typical, drunken behavior. Soon enough these parties would turn into a massive orgy and it wouldn’t even come out as a big surprise.

Freshen up a little had helped you settle your thoughts back into place but still, your body didn’t seem to catch a break as the build-up tension and frustration Tom had caused within your core was yet to be released. There was no denying that your toys would have come handy if you were back to your dorm room as it felt like your pussy kept clenching for no reason, like the gaping mouth of the thirstiest man in the middle of a drought. You knew how bad you needed to put it out of its misery but if you thought undressing for a ping pong game was bad, what would happen if anyone walked on you literally fingering yourself in the bathroom of a frat-house? No one would shut up about it.

Tom would certainly not. Shut. Up. About. It. Ever.

You pressed your thighs together, hoping for some sort of relief as his words came back haunting you, thinking about how your hand had found its way between your legs earlier in the shower, the very second you had thought about his body pushing you up against the tiles. Is that what he was to you, now? A fantasy? Would you become another disgusting cliché of a girl begging for the typical frat boy to fuck her at a party because she couldn’t handle his dirty mouth?

Then you thought about your best-friend and how the last time you’d seen her, she was heading upstairs with Harrison, giggling, her lipstick smudged all over her chin after making out heavily on the couch up to the point everyone was starting to wonder whether they should be charged for that kind of peep-show or just roll with it. How she was probably getting fucked in his bedroom while you were standing alone in a bathroom, dripping wet for a man you hated down to the very bottom of your guts.

The door swung open abruptly, making you jump.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding!” Tom smiled, walking in.

“Can’t a girl have some privacy?”

“I need to take a piss, you’re the one standing out there doing nothing” he joked, walking to the toilets with his hands already fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

“Hum, excuse me?” you spat, widening your eyes as you realized he was genuinely about to use the toilets with you still standing a few meters away.

“I said I needed to take a piss… So either you just stand there watching, which I don’t mind really… or you can get out?” he pointed his chin towards the door, unbothered as he casually pulled his dick out of his boxers.

Both infuriated and shocked, you turned around as there was no point leaving the room now that his whole junk was out and already halfway through it.

“Do you have to be that disgusting? Really you’re such a pig!” you complained as you heard him sigh with relief before the toilet flush broke the most awkward silence of your entire existence.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll clean it up real nice just for you…” he smiled even though you still had your back turned to him. You heard him use the tap, washing his hands for a considerably long amount of time. At least he wasn’t one of those filthy rats who thought basic hygiene was optional.

“What were you doing by the way?” he finally asked, grabbing the towel to your left, “touching yourself thinking about me?”

You turned around to face his cocky face once more, this time with a furious need to slap it. Hard.

“You know I’ve seen you walking around campus a couple times, Y/N… Those big jumpers and yoga pants you like to wear don’t do that body any justice, but this?” he circled his finger in the air, pointing out her entire outfit “this, I like to see… and if you weren’t being a little brat I would gladly pull up that skirt up to your waist and have you there, above the sink…”

“I’m being a brat?” you scoffed. That was rich, coming from the ultimate king of bratty assholes.

“Well you call it whatever you like but denying yourself something you truly need just to prove a point seems a little childish…” he shrugged, shoving his hands into this jeans pocket and giving you a perfect glimpse at the veins running up his arms and disappearing underneath his rolled up sleeves.

“You think all girls are begging for you to fuck them? Really?”

“Probably, yeah, and who could blame them really? I have a great cock and I’ve never had a single bad review about the way I use it…” he smiled, with the arrogance of a king sitting on a throne of indecency.

“You’re so full of yourself… it’s insane” you shook your head with pure disgust.

“Then go ahead and prove it”

“Prove what, exactly?”

“That you’re not dripping wet as we speak…”

Point taken.

You were, indeed, dripping wet and soon enough, you’d have some serious explaining to do as the thin cotton fabric of your underwear was now soaked with your unsolicited arousal. Even though your head was filled with hateful thoughts and resentment for Tom, it felt like your body would not stop begging for his touch, dragging him closer like two pieces of magnets on a fridge. Unconsciously, you were now standing a couple inch away from his face, so close you could actually smell the soft mixt of menthol and alcohol from his breath. There was no point denying the obvious tension between you two as you looked like you were about to break into a passionate kiss but now it was just a fight between your will for self-preservation and your body, aching to be touched.

And so you heard yourself say these words you never thought you’d say, like you were standing in the audience as your other self was performing on stage, making some questionable decisions you weren’t 100% okay with.

“Which one’s your bedroom?”

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You could have fought longer, for the sake of your personal values, but as your feet were swiped off the ground, your back hitting the door as it closed behind you with a loud slam, all of your good sense and respectable choices just vanished as much filthier thoughts buried them for good.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands had wasted no time and found their way under your top, fondling your breast with the hunger of a wolf. Your lips attached to his, you moaned louder than expected as he pushed himself a little harder against you, the obvious stiffness of his crotch pressing against your aching core. Your skirt had risen up to your waist from spreading your legs a little too wide, flashing your white panties as it was now so soaked you could definitely see the outline of your lips, the thin fabric sticking to your slit. Catching your breath, heavy pants breaking your kiss, you looked into Tom’s eyes only to see nothing but pure, absolute lust in them. As you tugged at his brown locks, a couple strand curling slightly at the back of his neck, you watched as his snapback fell to the floor with a thump, unleashing his brown untamed mane.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem so bad, groaning slightly as your fingers scrapped the back of his neck, your lips sucking on his throat for good measures. With his head tilted back slightly, it felt like Tom was getting soft for a while, caving in so you could take control over him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long as he suddenly traced a hand all the way down to your inner thigh, immediately pushing your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“I knew it…” he smiled, sliding his finger along your slit as you wrapped it up with a glistening coat of arousal. You knew he had won the minute he felt just how wet you were for him, but when it should have been upsetting, you just didn’t care. All you needed now was to feel his cock filling you up in any way he wanted, “who made you this wet, darling?” he smiled, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Don’t be a brat…” you complained as you could see some mischief in the way he looked at you.

“Just say it” he insisted “I want to hear you say out loud just how wet I make you” this wasn’t a request, but an order. And for some obscure reason you didn’t want to figure out, it somehow turned you on even more.

“You…” you started, biting your lip out of nerves, or out of excitement, you weren’t sure quite yet. “You make me so wet, Tom” you almost moaned, pushing yourself a little harder against his hand when he failed to give you exactly what you needed. His fingers. Buried deep inside of you.

“Hmm” Tom groaned, two of his digits spreading your lips apart at a torturing slow pace, “I like the sound of that…” his knuckles were barely halfway when you buckled your hips off the door, begging for more, “what’s that darling? Tell me what you want…” he was whispering by now, slowly pushing his fingers into your desperate slit, “I want to hear you beg for it…”

You felt him push deeper, curving his fingers into a hook every time he reached your g-spot. By now you were so aroused you just knew it would take you more than a couple stroke to cum heavily into his awaiting palm. You could hear the sloppy sound of your own wetness every time he slammed his slick, extremely skilled digits back into your throbbing pussy. His lips curved into a hasty smile as he could feel you literally drip all over his palm and wrist.

“I want you… I want you so much” you barely managed to whimper as he increased the pace, his wrist working its magic between your thighs.

“Hmm hmm? I’m gonna need you to be more specific baby… what exactly do you want?” his thumb grazed your clit for a brief second and that was enough for you to squeal under his touch, making you clench suddenly around his fingers, “say you want my cock” he almost growled as you felt his hard-on twitch against your thigh, begging to be freed.

“I want your cock” you immediately wimped, your own words sending shivers down your spine as you twitched with anticipation, “I want it so, so bad…”

“Good girl…” he hummed, slowing down the pace so he could add a third finger, stretching you out slightly this time, “d’you think you can take it though? It’s pretty big…” he smiled, twisting his hand just enough so he could dig himself a path.

You simply nodded, unable to speak anymore, but as you were about to beg for more, Tom removed his hand, leaving you frustrated and hornier than ever. His face changed suddenly as he watched you pout, his hand reaching up for your lips.

“What about that pretty mouth, then? You think it may fit?” he smiled, spreading your lips apart so you could taste yourself on his soaked fingers. You immediately obliged, sucking at it, one by one, never keeping your eyes off him. When he shoved three of his digits, watching as your tongue twirled around it, cleaning it off completely, you could definitely tell his eyes had gotten darker, filled with unspeakable thoughts you would be begging to hear soon.

“You’re gonna let me fuck that pretty face?” he added, removing his fingers from your mouth so he could give you a soft, cheeky slap on the cheek. You nodded, obedient as ever. “Say it” he commanded, louder this time, “say you want my cock inside your mouth”.

“I want it… I want your cock inside my mouth” you pouted, only because you knew he loved to see you beg like a spoiled little princess. You’d seen it in his eyes, the way he looked at you every time you tilted your head to fake an innocence that was long gone.

Tom stepped back, walking away slowly as he watched you standing there, flustered, your hair all over the place, panting out of lust and frustration. Pulling his shirt off, you watched as his impressive chest unveiled in front of you. Abs like rocks, a thin strand of hair tracing a path from his navel to his crotch, disappearing under his jeans, his impeccable V-line bringing images you never thought you had within yourself. As he pushed his hair back, daunting you with his a look half way between arrogance and disdain, it felt like all signs of dignity had left your brain as all you could think about was to crawl to the floor and beg for his cock.

“What you’re waiting for then, Darling?” he smiled, unzipping his flies as he watched you walk towards him and get on your knees within seconds.

Your hands pulled at his jeans until it finally pooled around his ankles. Looking up to stare into his eyes, you felt both small and powerful, submissive but in control as you were now responsible for this man pleasure. It was up to you whether he’ll get to cum or not. But as you considered edging him as an option, Tom wasted no time in remembering you who was actually in charge.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he sighed, grabbing your hair into a fist as his other hand stroked his cock through the cotton fabric of his boxers. You could tell he was just horny as you were as a couple pre-cum had already stained his briefs, turning it into a darker shade of grey.

Again, you nodded, removing his hand so you could replace it with yours, palming him through his briefs as he growled against your touch. He was big. Actually much bigger than you expected but somehow, you were up for a challenge. Tracing the outline of his cock with your fingers tips, you felt him push his hands on the back of your head, forcing you to come closer to his crotch.

“I want to fuck your pretty little mouth so, so bad” he groaned as you unexpectedly ran your tongue all over his stiff through the fabric, feeling it twitch as you palmed his balls. By now he was so hard you could feel the veins tracing a dirty road up to his leaking head as Tom started grinding slowly against your mouth, messing up your hair with his desperate fists.

When you pulled down his boxers, you took a couple seconds to stare at his glorious manhood, hard and pressed against his abdomen where it curved slightly, your mouth watering with a thirst you could have never pictured, especially when standing in Tom Holland’s bedroom. And yet, you couldn’t wait to have this magnificent piece of flesh filling up your mouth.

“Like what you see?” Tom smirked, boasting as ever but immediately squinting his eyes with a deep growl the minute he felt your tongue licking at the base, slowly going up until you finally bobbed on his creaming head.

You had always been good at this, giving head. Not that all of your partners would give you a proper review in the morning, pointing out your highs and lows, but there were just things men couldn’t do, like hiding the fact they were just having the time of their lives. And right now, Tom actually looked like there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be than standing here, with his cock in your mouth.

Twirling your hand at the base where you mouth couldn’t go just yet, you started bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking your cheeks in so your mouth would pop every time his dick came out. You had quickly figured out a couple things about Tom, including the fact he just seemed to love it dirty and noisy. You could actually hear him growl louder, his fist tightening its grip into your hair every time he slipped off your lips, only for him to shove it back a little harder and definitely deeper with each thrust.

“That’s it baby… Just like that… you’re such a good girl…”

You were a good girl, indeed. Always had been. Straight-A’s student from day one, the pride and joy of your parents, spending most of your week-ends doing some volunteer work whenever it was needed while being a caring, polite girl who never did anything wrong. Right choices only.

Or so you thought. Obviously, tonight would be always marked as the only questionable decision on your impeccable path to perfection. But still, as Tom grabbed your face with both hands to push himself deeper and all the way down your throat, making you gasp for air slightly, you had no regrets.

You stayed still for as long as your lungs could handle it, holding on to his firm, muscular buttocks as you swallowed him all. Looking down on you, Tom was left speechless as his cock stretched your cheeks out, his balls resting into your palm as you twitched them slowly, making it jolt with both pain and pleasure. When you felt like you were about to gag, you pushed yourself back, gasping for air as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Your cheeks felt numb and yet it missed the feeling of being stretched out already.

“Hmmm baby look at you…. you think you’re ready for it?”

“Yeah” was all you could blurt out. Yes to anything he wanted. You were prepared. You longed for it.

Looking around as Tom started pumping himself, getting ready for you, spitting into his palm to lube himself up so your lips wouldn’t drag along his shaft too much, you just couldn’t believe you were there, kneeling on the navy carpet of Tom Holland’s bedroom, the epitome of the ultimate frat boy. A huge flag from his favorite sports team was hanging above his bed, his never-ending hats collection sitting on wooden shelves by the wall like it was some kind of “frat boy starter pack” Art exhibition. In the corner of the room, you caught an unexpected glimpse at a guitar. It looked fairly new, but never in a million years would you have pictured Tom playing guitar. On his desk, his laptop was still open on a Spotify tab where you’d probably find a playlist based on some typical white boy rap music but against all odds, the room looked neat compared to what you had in mind.

“You look so beautiful” he sighed, out of nowhere, and to be completely honest, had your mouth not been filled with his dick, you would have probably picked up your jaw from the floor. Taking him all in once more, you just pretended you couldn’t hear, sparing you some awkward misunderstanding. Maybe those words were actually directed to his dick. After all, the boy loved himself just that much.

His hands were all over your face, wiping tears from your eyes every time he hit the back of your throat a little too hard, stroking your cheeks, massaging the back of your neck, roaming through your tangled hair as your kept up with his reckless pace, his hips swinging back and forth while you remained completely still so you could take him like a champ.

“God, I love to see you choke on my cock….” He gritted through his teeth “so…so hot…” you could tell he was getting sloppier now, pumping in and out of your mouth abruptly then a lot more slower as a couple twitch from his cock gave you a hint of his upcoming grand finale.

By now, you were a slippery mess, the taste of pre-cum hitting your throat as you dribbled all over his shaft, obscene sounds of suction coming out of your mouth every time he pushed himself out and back in all over again.

“F----uuuuck….fuck baby I’m gonna come!” he grunted, the sudden high-pitch of his broken voice driving you insane as you pushed yourself up a little so you could open your mouth wider, expecting him to fill it up soon enough. “D’you want me to cum in your mouth? Uh?” again, he gave you a little slap on the cheek, not quite hard enough for you to feel any pain. You nodded, moaning whatever came close to a “yes” as every single inch of your mouth was filled with Tom.

You heard him whimper, twitching a couple times, harder with his thrust as his hand fisted into your hair abruptly throughout his climax. Looking up to see his face, your eyes locked with his as he came all over your tongue, raining down your throat with a couple last, sloppy thrusts.

“Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuuu------“

Your eyes immediately teared up as you tried your best to swallow every drop of cum he had to give, the corner of your lips dripping like an overflowing sink.

Then there was a complete silence.

As you wiped your mouth off the thick, warmness of his cum, you felt him kneel to your side, then sit. Both of you looked completely exhausted, drained from every ounce of energy you had left.

“Well, that wasn’t half bad… for a little brat” he spoke again, and you just couldn’t believe he had gathered the energy to say this when he could have chosen silence.

Laughing quietly to yourself so you wouldn’t slap him across the face, you decided not to fuel him up and remained quiet instead. His hair had gone curlier than heaver, his glistening red face making him look like any cute boy you could easily fall for.

“I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna see a lot more of you at frat parties now?” he spoke again, and though it truly pissed you off to admit it, you just knew this wasn’t a one-time thing. For all you knew, this, was barely a prequel to a long, bumpy story of a good girl gone bad.

All because of Tom-fucking-Holland.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #frat boy tom holland #frat!tom #enemies to lover #tom holland x reader

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Idiot | Tony Stark

Hey lovelies— I wrote some flangst even though I have a billion other things that needed to be written. I really woke up and said “comfort character? I think you mean: Tony Stark” and then wrote a fic with no plot. It’s just sappy and sad and cuddly and kinda’ elusive as to the relationship. Might expand on this or might let it sit in the void like I am :) Enjoy

Description: Literally like zero plot, this was literally written today this morning because I am a heartbroken mess and I fucking hate real life men right now and I hate the military and I hate guys who tell you that you’re special when they don’t fucking mean it and I really need a Best Friend/Maybe More!Tony Stark cuddle

Pairing: Best Friend / Maybe More!Tony Stark x Female!Reader

Warnings: Like nothing, kinda angsty

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: Fluff, Angst, breakups LOL

She wakes up screaming again. This is the ninth night in a row and she’s starting to think that the others are going to request to soundproof her room. She wouldn’t blame them. She would almost prefer they do that because at least then she won’t have to stop screaming when she wakes up. She can just keep going and finally run out of voice and then maybe— maybe— she won’t be able to say his name anymore.

She flips over, her hair plastered to the back of her neck, her stomach tossing like she’s on a roller coaster. She can’t tell if she wants to cry or throw up— she wants to scream at both choices. She wants to rip her hair out too but then she would be sad and bald and she can only do one of those things right now. She’s not deep enough in the spiral to chop it off yet— that’s a day twelve activity.

She settles on crying— like she even has a choice— and soon her room is filled with the sound of her heaving against a pillow that still smells too much like him. She tosses it— she whips it across the damn room and doesn’t flinch when she hears something shatter. It was nothing important, she knows that for a fact. She hopes it’s the picture of them.

She pulls her knees up, tucking them under her torso, praying the pressure will alleviate the bubbling in her stomach. It won’t— she’s only fooling herself. He’s not a cramp— it’s not food poisoning; it’s rage. It’s brain melting sadness. It’s every ‘Good morning beautiful’ and ‘I miss you’ and ‘I love—

No. Nope— not that one. She can’t think about that one. If she does then she might never stop— she might take a match to everything in this room, every piece of clothing in her closet, every mug in the kitchen that he ever touched. Where would she be then— stuff-less, clothes-less, and with every Avenger looking for a coffee mug pissed at her?

Yeah no— better to just not think about it. Better to just scream.

She squeezes her eyes closed— not like it matters, the room is pitch black anyway— and slams her fist against the mattress, letting the sting that rips up her arm ring louder than his name in her head. It only works for a moment before it’s back— louder and angrier than ever. Louder and angrier than her. His name in her head is a separate entity, haunting her skull like it’s a dilapidated mansion, trying to evict her from the endless halls of her own mind.

She bunches the blanket up, shoving it against her mouth and praying that it muffles the crazed roar that sheds from her lungs— like an animal being ripped apart, she can’t tell if she’s screaming for help or for something so much worse.

There’s a knock on the door and she freezes, her blood running ice cold. A few seconds tick by, her limbs and jaw glued into a tight position, tongue heavy and aching in her mouth. Her heart pounds hard in her chest— the entity knocking back to whoever’s at the door— there’s just no way.

“Would you open the door if I told you there are macaroons in my hand?” A collected, slightly sarcastic, familiar voice breaks through the wood barrier of her door.

Her shoulders drop, her throat closing slightly— it’s just Tony.

“I— erm—” she jumps off her bed quickly, stumbling in the dark until she finds the lamp on her desk, turning it on the the sight of her blasphemous pillow and the shattered remains of a purple mug— damn she overshot the pillow by an inch— “gimme’ a minute, ‘k?”

“You get five seconds — these walls are thick but Friday alerted me to the— and I quote— distressed wailing.”

Oh god of course she did— how could she forget about the damn AI? She presses her palms against her eyes, wicking away as much moisture as possible. She’s so tired— her bones feel like cement, her neck barely keeping her head screwed on let alone straight. She’s a mess and all she can do is chuck her pillow back on her bed and ignore the purple shards peeking out from behind her dresser. One thing at a time.

She pushes her lead bones to the door, trying not to wince as the light pours into her dim room. She blinks a few times, her eyelashes sticky and cheeks stiff, taking in the man in grey sweatpants and a worn MIT hoodie in front of her. She glances down and sure enough he has a mug of pistachio macaroons. A mug. How ironic.

She flicks her gaze to his face, blinking back another wave of tears when she sees the concern mingling with his coffee eyes. “Hey doll.”

She swallows, trying to clear her stinging throat. It doesn’t work, her voice still sounds like she’s been chain smoking since the ripe age of five years old. “Hey Tony.”

He raises a dark brow, eyes drawing down her front, and she shifts on her feet, wishing the hallway light would flicker out. She just knows her eyes are puffy and her hair a mess. Her t-shirt is definitely crumpled, hiding what she can only hope is shorts and not just a pair of panties, and she only has one sock on— she can feel it now, the hardwood like ice against her toes. Her face flushes with heat, fingers clasping awkwardly in front of her— she may as well have a sign flashing above her head. Heartbroken idiot.

For a moment they just stand there, eyes locked, daring the other to move or speak or do anything at all first. Finally Tony sighs, holding his arms out, shaking his head. “Are you waiting for an invitation? Get your butt over her— now.”

That’s all it takes for her to practically jump into his arms, throwing her weight against the man like a drowning woman would a life preserver. That’s kind of what he is. Her best friend— her life line. Any other time she would have been the one knocking on his door— kicking his door down is more like it— but he told her— he told her that he was no good and she didn’t listen. She wraps her arms around his neck, biting her lip hard enough to keep the tears from dripping down her face again. She missed him— she’s been missing him for months.

“He’s an idiot, doll.” Tony mumbles against her hair, arms circling her back and pressing her to him so tight that it feels like he’s trying to fuse their bodies together.

He smells like motor oil and coffee and her chest shakes from the contrast of the fire in her veins and the cool relief of finally going home. It feels like longer than months— it feels like years. She’s been walking on eggshells around him since she introduced her— now ex— boyfriend. They don’t fight— at least, they didn’t before. They’ve never had a reason to.

Not until him.

Warmth seeps from him, curling around her limbs. She presses her face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent ingrained in his hoodie. He’s been wearing it for a few days, she can tell. If things were normal she would be tugging at the pocket, slipping her hands in and tangling them with his, tracing his knuckles with her thumbs. She’ll settle for this though— she’ll take anything.

“I’m the idiot.” She mutters dejectedly, fingers tugging on his hood, trying desperately to distract herself from how much she wants to scream again. “I thought, Tony— I— god I’m so stupid.”

Tony stiffens, chest like marble and pressing against hers so hard she can feel his heart beating against her practically bare skin— deadly calm but beginning to pick up.

“Don’t you dare.” His voice is gravelly, grinding his words against her ear.

His hold on her loosens and she panics, her own heartbeat spiking rapidly in her chest— what is he doing? Is he leaving? No, no, no he can’t leave! She locks her arms around his shoulders as he bends down, shaking her head, the tears finally spilling over her cheeks, hot and angry and desperate. “No please— don’t go I’m sorry— I’m— please don’t leave me.”

She’s incoherent, not even sure that the words coming out of her mouth make any sense at all but she has to at least try. He can’t leave— not now. She can take a broken heart, she can take one stupid man, she can take having a sockless foot and a head that feels like its caving in— she can’t take her best friend walking away and leaving her in this obscenely bright hallway to fend the light off by herself. If she loses her home she’s done for. “Tony no you can’t— you can’t go.”

She’s sobbing, chest heaving, and she just barely registers the soft clink of the mug settling against the floor before one of his arms is slipping under her thighs, hauling her toes off the floor. His other arm remains anchored around her back, fingers digging into her side to keep her from falling. The sudden motion makes her gasp— a watery, broken noise— her legs pushing around his hips and clinging for dear life.

“Hey—” his jaw rubs against her temple, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, stubble scratchy enough to regain her attention— “I’m here, doll. Right here— you honestly might be an idiot if you think I’m leaving you.”

She chokes out a laugh. It sounds more like a whimper— like she’s scrounging for the last drops of happiness in her for his sake. Probably because she is. She tightens her legs around his waist, socked ankle crossing over bare ankle, sucking in a deep breath as his thumb rubs circles on her ribcage.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” She sighs and his hand stills. “You were right.”

“Trust me— I wish I wasn’t.” His fingers crawl up her back, curling around the back of her neck, pushing the hair from her clammy skin.

The warmth of his skin on hers is like heaven and she tries to ignore the fact that he’s touching her while she’s a complete wreck. “You should hate me.”

His hand clamps harder around her skin, the sharp inhale he takes making his chest rise and push against hers. His fingers slip into her hair and he tugs gently, coaxing her to lift her head from shoulder. When she does she meets his determined, narrowed stare and his minute frown. Her heart clenches when she takes in the rest of his face, her gaze landing on the off purple bruises under his eyes, the tell tale sign that her best friend hasn’t been sleeping. It’s her fault— she knows it is.

He shakes his head, his brown hair ruffling slightly. “God, baby, you really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

Her lip trembles, her stomach squeezing— baby. “Tony—”

His forehead drops, his damp skin meeting her own, nose bumping against hers, drawing up the bridge and then back down— she can’t breathe. “You’re an idiot if you think for a second that I could hate you. For anything let alone something so damn ridiculous.”

He laughs a breathy, frenzied sound, nose drawing along her cheekbone. She must be dreaming. That's the only explanation as to the sudden lack of oxygen in the hallway— the only explanation to the way her veins are thrumming like guitar strings being plucked. This can’t be real. She feels like she’s going to wake up any minute now, throat raw and chest aching twice as much.

She opens mouth— she has to say something— but he keeps going. “An idiot if you think I wouldn’t follow you to the other end of the earth. Of the galaxy. Here you are thinking I hate you because you dated a moron? Because, what, I told you not to? Big deal— you tell me not to do things all the time. That’s what we do, baby. We tell eachother not to do stupid things and then we don’t listen.”

He pulls back enough to take in her face, eyes drawing over the curve of her nose and the slope of her cheeks before landing back on hers. His stare is intense— demanding, like him— she wouldn’t be able to look away if she wanted to. That’s impossible though; she could stare at this man all day and not get bored. She thinks back to all those days in his workshop, watching him fiddle with his suits. What she wouldn’t give to be there now, legs curled under her and his MIT hoodie— the same one on him now— pulled over her, singing along to their playlist and passing him screwdrivers. Her chest squeezes at the thought— she can’t remember the last time she did that.

His hand in her hair tugs again and she forces herself to stay in the moment, watching his lips form the words first and then letting her ears catch up. “He was a tool and you’re too good for that, alright? That has nothing to do with us. Point blank, whatever, he has no effect on us. Okay?”

She nods, her nose bumping against his again, and for the first time all night— all week— it feels like she can breathe. “Okay.”

His chest sags under her, the tension in his shoulders releasing under her fingers. “Good. Don’t say stupid things. That’s my job.”

“You’re right.” She cracks a smile, one that feels too foreign but entirely familiar. “You can have it back.”

Tony’s brows push together, head pulling back, his own smile beginning to carve over his lips. “Have what back?”

“The title of world’s biggest idiot.”

Just like that she’s giggling, throwing her head back and letting the laughter pour out of her. It’s cathartic— it’s natural. Like a dam breaking, it’s fast and dangerous and exhilarating. Before she knows it he’s laughing too, his forehead pressing against her shoulder, chest shaking, and she’s digging her fingers into his hoodie to keep herself steady. They’re definitely waking up everyone else in the compound but she doesn’t care. She only throws herself closer to him, hugging him so tight that she’s practically falling over his back, legs locked high around his stomach.

He turns his face against her neck, mumbling his words into her skin. “Missed you, doll.”

Her fingers slip into his hair, toying with the soft strands and sighing. “Missed you more.”

Groaning, he straightens, re-securing his arm around her. He passes her another smile, this one softer, more in control. She pulls at his hair in return, earning a half-hearted eye roll and the reward of him sinking his head against her hands. She scratches at his scalp lightly, scrunching her nose and trying not to giggle again. Now that she’s started she can’t stop— that’s his real super power; leaving her in stitches.

“You think you’re ready to sleep again?”

She sobers at his question, shrugging. She already knows she’s not. The thought of going back to her room and having to sleep without a pillow again, alone, makes her blanche. She would rather not sleep at all then do that. She may as well go make a pot of coffee if that’s her option. The answer bubbles in her mouth— no.

No she is not ready— but she has to be. She has to be a big girl. Even if it means sleeping with the window open so that she can’t smell her sheets, even if it means freezing because the windows are open and she can’t use her blankets, even if she would rather be tucked under the covers of Tony’s bed like the old days when things were normal and she was happy.

But she can’t say that— can she?

“I guess— you gotta’ put me down though,” is what she finally settles on, trying to keep the disappointment from her words. It definitely doesn’t work but for the sake of her sanity she pretends it does.

He frowns— fully this time— blinking at her like she’s grown another head. “Uh no I don’t.”

He says it sarcastically— like she’s crazy for even suggesting such a thing— his face incredulous. It makes her heart spike, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She’s missing something.

“Tony, what are you talking—“

And then he turns, starting down the hall, starting towards his room, and she shuts her mouth. She’s not going to protest— she’s not risking her chance.

She’s not an idiot.

#Tony Stark #tony stark fluff #tony stark angst #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #iron man #mcu #mcu fic #marvel cinematic universe #marvel cinematic universe fic #tony stark fic #iron man fic #wow sad dizzy hours

[mypersonmyg]

The Misery Chick | MYG

thank you to my favorite @kimtaehyunq for the wonderful banner, ily you talented cutie <3

pairing: Yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, a lil tiny bit of angst, college au

wc: 5.2k (issa short one)

warnings: language

summary: maybe yoongi has a fat crush on you OR he notices, that’s all

a/n: happy birthday to the one and only min yoongi! i am so so fond of him and i couldn’t not write something for him, so I hope you enjoy :D and as always feel free to send in drabble requests for the fic and blah blah blah...

honorary tag: @gukssunshine​

masterlist

To wonder about the quickened stride of the beating appendage in Yoongi’s chest, would be to question the routine catch of gaze to the lone figure at the far end of the classroom, dwarfed by cuddled fabric, consumed with the rapid turn of the lengthy page. His arm rests atop the desk’s surface, supporting the chin that minutely dips with your every flicker of expression, the parting of your lips in gasp mimed by his own. His eyes are glazed under bright light, lids threatening to blink, the passage of time too fast, but oh so slow. 

Yoongi’s knowledge is second hand, rumblings of your demeanor spread through the vine of dialogue that floats coincidentally through his ears to connect with the edges of his brain, chewed and regurgitated without second thought. He holds his refusal to high regard, refusal to believe that you’re nothing more than a student, disgruntled by circumstance. It’s not simple attraction that guides his mind to the eye of logic, the region of reason, though it was the peak of initial interest.

He notices, and that’s all. 

He notices the round of your puffed cheeks that follows a particularly surprising piece of narrative. He notices the seat left empty between you and the wall, open but not a forced invitation, and he notices the way your posture straightens when someone grazes a hair too close. He notices the deflation of your shoulders when you’re left without pair during lessons framed with the inopportunity of interaction forced to simulate the false reality of reality itself. He notices the things others are blind to in their half squint, though the picture is still blurred like the edges of a polaroid. 

The numbness of his wrist, angled by the rest of his chin, draws him from captivation despite motivation to outlast the congregation huddle before you, their fronts focused toward him, his view obscured by obligation of association. His lips form the curvature of amiability necessary for pleasantry, neck craning to the defense of blue jeans offending his locked gaze.

“Can you stop staring so hard? She’s gonna eat you alive,” Hoseok’s finger nudges at the round of Yoongi’s jaw, urging his attention completely away from his person of interest. 

“Fuck off, you don’t even know her.” 

“Neither do you, despite your dedication to staring holes into her side every chance you get. They don’t call her ‘the misery chick’ for nothing, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile.” The jab rubs the wrong direction, Yoongi’s hand landing with a thud to the thick of Hoseok’s skull. “Come on, it’s a joke.”

“Maybe to you, and to everyone else, but she is a person. You guys just don’t look beyond what you wanna see because then she’s more than just a good laugh.” Every utterance of the moniker draws is lips to a downward twitch, fists balling in the pocket of his hoodie or scraping at the fabric of stressed jeans. It’s knowing that if he’s heard it you have ten fold, the thought harboring the wish that he could fold you inward, close to the beat of his chest to shield from the displeasure of words half baked with stupidity and the ignorance of hilarity. 

“Well not everyone wants to see her between the sheets.”

Interruption of the education saves Hoseok from the verbal spar pending within the fire engulfing Yoongi’s pupils. A place of love harbors the words of war, he knows this, knows that Hoseok’s plan is to rile to the point of action, but he’s driven to the brink of insanity by twisted words of encouragement. The kindest person on the planet playing into the stereo of broken records hurled toward the edges of your delicate framing, . 

Yoongi’s hands curl around his pen, ballpoint and already dancing the page, jotting words flown from one canal to the other and back to the atmospheric toxins of brains shorting caffeine. His sleeves are suddenly burning, neck itching with the heat of nerves crawling outward from within the confines of his collar. He glances toward Hoseok staring absently at Yoongi’s decorative scrawl, raising a brow to colliding gazes.

“Is it hot?” Yoongi puckers in mumble, swiping at the skin kissing the fringe sweeping his eyeline. Hoseok’s head careens in the negative, averting gaze to the front of the room, professor droning about the coming assignment, a project that Yoongi barely catches wind of. 

The plague responsible for his discomfort of familiarity is comfort enough to stop the distant tremble of shoulders keen to the stare that meets his eyes from the room’s opposing side. He jolts, or rather the calm of his heart picks back to pace, when his eyes meet irises reflective of his own.  They’re gone as soon as he finds them, but he’s confident that the cool of his neck is confirmation that sanity isn’t all lost. 

“Dude, could you take your notes? I’m gonna need those later,” Hoseok nudges at his forearm, limp from distraction. Yoongi hurries to scribble missed lecture, patient for a lull in speech to make room for declaration. 

“She was looking at me.” 

“What?” 

“Y/n, she was looking at me. I saw her...I felt her.” 

“Maybe she was just staring off into space because this class is a snooze-fest.” Hoseok speaks through the timing of yawn, perfectly punctuating his point. “She probably doesn’t even know you exist. Though, I guess everyone knows you exist, so maybe she just doesn’t care.” 

The words aren’t false, Yoongi’s following his beyond the definition of quaint, his celebrity following him from the rush of the court to the thrill of the keys. He’s hard pressed for a moment of peace, but he often finds it here, lost in you. 

“I’m serious.”

Yoongi sighs an audible defeat, Hoseok’s dropped lids and the rest of his chin atop folded arms a clear sign that his mind is beyond the classroom and beyond Yoongi’s own romantic woes. The end of the lecture appears miles from the start, the wave of dismissal a spell releasing its hold on the shackles chaining the  ghoulish appearance of sleepless students. 

Yoongi has worked himself to the brink of decision by the end of the lecture, sure enough that his stride to your desk will prove a build in the shy tint of his cheeks when he musters a faint ‘hello’. The pan of his half thought out plan doesn’t sort as well as he hoped, the rush of legs scurrying for the door tripping him up in his rush to the chair where you patiently filed notebook to bag. 

His vision is blurred by the passage of sweaters and hoodies, emblems emblazoned on sleeves and beanies sagging from the tips of bedhead. Hoseok follows after his stride in a confused wake from the desk that housed his sleepy head for the last seventy minutes, stumbling along with the drag of feet on tile. 

When destination is met, your chair is neatly housed, your figure nowhere to be found, Yoongi paces back, his sizable sneaker just scuffing the metal recline of an adjacent chair. 

“What are you doing?” Hoseok clutches the muscled fabric of Yoongi’s shoulder, stopping near disaster following the weighted displacement of the two. 

“Nothing, let's get lunch.”

The passage of days are a haze in the midst of the craze of midterms and Yoongi’s attempt to find reason to believe your glance was more than a passing innocence. The press of his back to his mattress, sheets freshly laundered, linens, scented of the artificial makings of fresh lilac courtesy of Jeongguk, are used to his mid-day collapse for a pre-study snooze. He’s swallowed whole beneath the dense of his comforter, fingers curling into the soft material, lips emitting a sigh of satisfaction. 

The buds in his ears are a dull hum, white noise to saturate the crevices of his brain still vibrating from the surge of knowledge consumed at the twice rapid pace of the semester’s schedule. His lids are aflutter, pupils rolling to the dark precipice, the unconscious already tugging at the bits of his subconscious manifested to snooze.  

The muscles of his pillowy cheeks fight upward against the smush to the firm cushioning of his mattress, arms cuddled around the decorative cushion of deep blue. A pitched giggle echoes in the receptors of his brain, bouncing against the walls, a comforting sound. It’s foreign though, the melodic stutter, yet it engulfs his chest with the warmth of affection, his stomach turning with nerves of the giddy sort. 

He teeters on the edge of more, features dancing between streams, a waterfall blur. Yoongi aches for the reach, his physical and metaphorical being extending from the depths of his full size bed, yearning for the exploration of the four walls and beyond. He can swear his fingers graze the soft of skin, the trace of lip curved in sensuality just visible through sleepy haze. The giggles grow in volume, almost as if guided toward his hasty reach. 

“Jeongguk, shut up!” Yoongi falls forward, just catching onto the ledge of his dresser, quick reflexes doing wonders for his physical well being, but the skip in his mental and the stop of his heart are undeniable. 

He's heard the voice a handful of times, an arm eagerly shooting to respond to a professor’s quarry, the hidden mumblings that he swears he’s the only one to pick up on, his smirk almost never enough to stop impending chuckle.

It’s you. 

He knows, but can’t quite grasp that just beyond the barrier of belief, past the door sealed to keep from disturbance you’re somewhere laughing with Jeongguk. He listens for a moment, unmoving, to attempt a deciphering of your intentions, but laughter has turned to the inaudible mumblings from the room across the hall.  He’s silent in his trek to the door, pulling it on rusted hinges, cringing with every scrape of copper and wood. 

He slips down the hall on tiptoe, unsure if you’re attune to the other members of the house, but not ready to face you if Jeongguk’s door swings back to reveal the occupants of the small cubical. Yoongi makes way to the kitchen, surprised to find the rest of his roommates crowded into the sizable space, each occupied with their own endeavor of strewn textbooks and half frozen toaster strudel. 

“Well well look who’s awake,” Jimin sneers playfully in Yoongi’s direction, drawing attention from the rest of the room. 

“Bet I can guess why,” Taehyung snickers, glances exchanged with a conspiratorial air, the shift of Yoongi’s feet not unnoticed by his personal tormentors. “We told Jeongguk he might wanna keep it down, we know how you like your rest.” 

“Jeongguk didn’t wake me,” Not the correct turn of phrase, realized just moments late, the flicker of pupils raising with the feigned ah ha! Yoongi side steps them all, settling on the sphere of orange grabbing his interest from the bowl on the table, plopping into the nearest chair. 

“Oh he didn’t? Well what other reason could you possibly have to forgo your pre-study nap, hmmm?” Jin pokes at the slightly greened peel of Yoongi’s fruit, hand smacked away with haste. He withdraws to card through his hair, lengthening by the day, framing his face with more beauty than should be allowed by the ethereal senior. 

“I was hungry, s’all.” He tosses scraps with each peel of fruitful flesh, eagerly sliding bits of tangerine past his puckered lips. Anything to keep his mind from the fresh dose of giggles eating at his brain like a love bitten parasite. “Who—umm, who does Jeongguk have over.” 

“Oh, Kookie has a friend over? We had no idea,” Namjoon hums, glasses perched to the bridge of his nose, arms eaten by the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“Maybe you recognize their voice? I mean, you’re the only one close enough to hear it.” Hoseok’s grin is shit eating, half hidden behind the length of his hand, fingers curling in position at the tip of his chin. 

“Oh, oh! I think I recall him saying something about a...Y/—hmmm was it…” Taehyung fakes stumbles over the name, tips of his fingers tracing the glass of his crumbed plate. 

“Y/n.” Yoongi speaks through teeth clenched, his cheeks rosy from snatched sleep and the scrutiny he’s placed himself under, the heat of a lamp concentrated in the five pairs of eyes trained on his every movement for their amusement. 

“So you do know her, why don’t you go say hi?” Jin pats him with vigour, the sound of an echoed frame permeating the air of what Yoongi has affectionately titled, friendly toxicity. Those same muffled voices grow with the trek down the stairs, threatening to give way with each step. Yoongi lifts his eyes from his half eaten fruit for the first time since he sat down, daring them to say a word out of turn with a single look. 

“It’s pretty quiet considering seven guys live here,” Your voice is audible from the front door, Yoongi’s grip tightening, juice spilling down the crevices of his hand, soiling his shirt sleeve, palms already sticky from the stress. “I have one roommate and, as you’ve seen, she can be loud enough for the both of us.” 

“I’m just as surprised as you are actually. I know Yoongi is probably asleep,” Yoongi sinks into his chair, knowing glances threatening to drop him straight through the wooden surface. “The rest are probably out.” 

“Yoongi?” Your voice strays a bit, Yoongi’s lip twitching, unsure what to think of the sudden strain in pitch. 

“Yeah, do you know him?” 

“Oh, um...kinda? Not really, we share a class together, but we’ve never talked. I’m pretty sure he’d think he’s too cool for me anyways. You know, ‘misery chick’ and all.” Yoongi levels a stare at Hoseok whose arms lift in readied defense, though his own face conjures frown at your words. Your attention clearly never spotting the longing with which he’s leveled you for the past few months. 

“You’re not the ‘misery chick’,” Jeongguk’s voice holds firm reassurance, something Yoongi wishes he could give you, but he’s glued, too curious for the thought of impromptu interruption. “People are just jerks. Besides, Yoongi-hyung isn’t like that at all. He likes to pretend he doesn’t know how cool people think he is.” 

“Guess I’ll just have to take your word for it. I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Koo.” 

The door closes, Jeongguk just as soon rounding into the kitchen, tracks dead when there are six pairs of eyes trained on his figure. “Wha—have you all been here the whole time?” 

He only takes pause momentarily, his stride leading to the fridge, a juice box of all things pulled from metal confines. The naked eye would never guess the soft interior of Jeongguk, his features contrasting with the boots swallowing his feet and the tattoos eating his arm, tracing his digits. But he’s the walking embodiment of the careful youth painting each man posted in the room, a piece of him nursed by a piece of them with each day passing. 

“Yeah, we’re just hangin’ around, Jeonggukie.” Hoseok shrugs, ruffling the base of Jeongguk’s wild curls. 

“Well you’re doing it pretty quietly, Y/n thought it was weird.” 

“Are you guys dating?” Jimin’s question is thrown with abandon, eyes trained on Jeongguk with absolute focus, Yoongi sending a glare toward the silver haired fiend. 

“No.” Jeongguk pays little mind to the question, too busy squeezing every last drop from the box clutched in his fist, doe eyes glistening with concentration. “We met last semester in lit and she’s really cool so we started hanging out. You guys should meet her sometime, she doesn’t have a lot of friends because of this dumb rumor that she’s ‘the misery chick’ which is ridiculous because she’s one of the nicest people I’ve met here.” 

“Yeah, you can bring her over any time.” Namjoon encourages, book lowered to the table, face scrunching in mental agony when he realizes the corner of his novel is soaked with the spill of orange juice. 

“She said she knows you from class Yoongi, but she doesn’t think you’d like her. I think you would though! Maybe you should try to talk to her next class.” 

“Yeah,” Yoongi readily agrees, new found vigor in his speech. “Maybe…” 

Over the next several weeks, Yoongi is sure that coincidence isn’t what found his stare locked to yours, Jeongguk’s overheard conversation clearly leaving your interest peaked about Yoongi who was forced to make his own gazes less frequent for fear of being caught. His first sighting after he floated the walls of his home like a ghost in haunt was next lecture. 

The nerves that ate at his skin the first instance of your curious scan was turned bearable by the itching of excitement to his every nerve, skin alight with the tango of possibility traversing his very being. His attention was wayward, standing at the head of the class, scooping the pages required for lecture from the overflowing desk, a minute ‘excuse me’ cutting through the thick of his cogged brain. 

“Yes?” Was his response, regurgitated dumbly despite the forming line waiting for him to budge to his waiting seat. 

“Uh...could I get by...papers.” He smiles, unintentional, but the effect is the duck of your head, refusal to meet his eyes under such a heated gaze. He’s left to stare a moment longer before the snag of his sleeve, Hoseok forcing him away, calming the mob of students too impatient to momentarily still for the fruition of his romantic interest. 

Lately, your exit from class seems somehow quicker than usual, the practiced haste too much for him to master, another obstacle to his formal introduction. Though it seems your professor can read the tension that hovers the expanse of the classroom, a thread itching to be linked by two lovers, one unknowing of the delicate pull she has on her soul suitor. 

“Okay!” The professor stands at the front of the room, barely holding the attention of the class, barely holding Yoongi’s attention until he speaks once more. “Instead of a formal midterm, I want you all to complete a joint essay, yes you heard me correctly! I want you to pair up and write an essay on the topic of your choosing—as long as that topic is related to the course.” 

Yoongi perks up, ignoring the telltale that Hoseok hopes to grab him as soon as the class is dismissed because Yoongi has a plan of his own. 

“Of course I won’t force you to choose a partner, I know some of you prefer to work alone. But no more than two people to a group. Now I can see that you’re all on the edge of your seats, but I’m feeling generous today, so you’re dismissed, but your pages are due on my desk beginning of class Monday!” The final words of the professor send the class into frenzy, those who were paying attention quick to grab hold of their half and those who weren’t suddenly catching up and scrambling for someone who’ll make do.

“Hey, we’re partners, right?” Hoseok looks at Yoongi hopeful, but Yoongi already has his sights set on you, watching everyone link up, resigned to working solo. 

“Nah, I’ve got another partner in mind if that’s okay with you.” Hoseok catches the drift rather quickly, wide smile forgoing slight disappointment at his loss of the sure A on his midterm. 

“Go for it,” Hoseok gives a light shove forward, much appreciated by Yoongi whose heart threatens to burst from his chest, sure that the nerves are painted on his face like a slice of Van Gogh. He’s just in time, your hands shoved into your pockets, ready to leave the suffocation of a space smothered in unwelcome. 

“Hey.” Yoongi can see the uncertainty, your eyes glancing to either side to ensure that he is certainly addressing you. 

“Hey…” 

“So, this midterm thing is kinda weird, right?” He can already see the snicker on Hoseok’s face, though his friend is posted at the door opposite him. Your own lips quirk, his only thought of coherency aimed at how cute the action is. You rock on your heels, he notes your style isn’t far off from the bones of Jeongguk, hoodie black and heavy boots ready to stomp through endless waves of the nauseating sea of university. 

“Yeah...I guess it’s a little unconventional. But great for people who get test anxiety,” You humor him, hands withdrawing from jeaned confines to gesture wildly to the room void of anyone but the three remaining vessels, two of which are engaged in unlikely exchange. “Did you need something?” 

“Huh?” 

“Sorry! I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a class to get to and I have a thing about being late. I figure there’s a reason you’re talking to me seeing as we’ve never actually talked before…” You catch yourself in ramble, tripping over phrases whilst Yoongi watches without missing a beat. 

He’s incredibly taken with the way the words flow without pretense, a nice change to the closed off demeanor people falsely associate with you. He would listen for a lifetime to the things you have to say, hopefully with the clasp of finger and longing glances. Your intent is nonsense, nerves eating away at the buds of your tongue. To him it’s a poetry specially curated, a tickle to his throat bringing forth the soft laughter that halts your speech. 

“I’m sorry, you go ahead I’m just...nervous.” 

“No no, don’t apologize, I like listening to you,” He coos when you smile, quick to recover before your eyes, wide and attentive find his own once more, now notably softer, safer. “I love your smile too…” 

“You’re not so bad yourself…” Soft spoken and not altogether sure is the way you speak, your class long forgotten, a blip in rear view shadowed by the shining beacon before you. “So…?”

“Right, right...I was just wondering if you’d maybe wanna work together?” Despite compliments and hinted flirtation you’re taken aback by the offer, your eyes skirting Yoongi completely, raising question to the figure station by the exit. Hoseok offers you a smile you can’t help but return his thumbs raising in the affirmative. 

“He’s all yours,” Hoseok assures, taking his leave prematurely, Yoongi still waiting for confirmation. 

“No pressure, just thought I’d ask. I think we’d work well together,” And I wanna know you, he withholds for fear of frightening you more so than the sudden acknowledgement already has.

“Well I don’t know about that, but yeah I’d love to if you’re sure.” 

“I’m positive. Wanna meet at my place after school?” 

“Sounds good.” You pull your phone swiping at the screen before passing it over. “Just text me when you’re free.” 

“I’ll text the address,” He knows it’s unnecessary, just taking precautions to shield from the admission of his eavesdrop the last time you occupied the residence. You wait until you’re once again clutching the spherical confines of your devices, checking and double checking that all digits are present, not unfamiliar with the harsh reality of falsehood buried beneath genuine interest.

“Oh, I actually know where you live. My friend Jeongguk is one of your roommates, so I know my way.” 

“Well I’m sorry we’ve missed each other, that it took me so long to say hello.” Yoongi’s legs lead him half a step closer, an accidentally purposeful close of the gap between, your eyes avoid the bottom half of his face, focusing instead on the bill of his cap and the dark hair tickling the edges. 

“Guess you’ll just have to make up for it somehow.” 

“Guess I will.” 

Your visits to Yoongi are routine over the next week, the laughter filling the hectic halls caused by him rather than his roommates. He’s seen more of you in a week than he could’ve hoped in a lifetime, even more confused about the way you’ve been outcast by a majority of your major. He’s awed by your lack of reaction to the judgement of peers, often citing it as a joke, sarcasm lacing the words. 

It’s the day before assignment is due, you’re perched at Yoongi’s desk, he’s laying on his bed, tossing his basketball in mock free throw simultaneously with his toss of ideas while your fingers type vigorously in final draft. 

This particular evening leaves you alone with Yoongi, the other members of the house trying and failing to convince you to join for their weekly outing to the nearest bar where they would no doubt drink their weight to poorly prepare for the week to come. Yoongi was swift to opt out, much preferring your company to the stench of stale beer and jokes poorly executed by Jin after he downs his fifth shot. 

You were insistent that he let you handle the rest of the paper, just pages standing between you and your final product, but he’s too fond of the way your post-its decorate the shelf over his desk, different colored notes for every paragraph, the ink of your pens highlighting each point in magenta saturation. He’s obsessed with the way you hunch to close to the pages of your textbook while scolding him for getting too close to the screen of his laptop in the next breath. 

He can’t help the thought of what could be, close calls and a hair’s breadth stepping between you all week. It’s the price of seven roommates and a lock loosened with the jiggle of a handle. The hesitancy that still fills your pupils despite the easy way his words lace with genuine interest. 

Yoongi remembered what it was like to notice, deciding that it’s much better to experience you. The moment is delicate, your soft suggestions and argumentative replies tossed with a hint of tease lacing the bite of your tone. He doesn’t try to hide the smile that breaks the mold of his face, lips dampened by the press of gums prominent from healthy reach. 

“Can I ask you a question?” He raises, your fingers slowing against the keyboard, chair swiveling to offer full attention. “Does it bother you...the whole ‘misery chick’ thing?” 

He’s not sure what possesses it, but he is sure that knowing will make things easier, break a barrier that to him doesn’t exist. He knows your breath is baited, knows you’ve been waiting for the pull of the rug, so he offers a tug, a comforting teasing sort of thing to ease your mind and close the gap of misunderstanding that he could never blame you for. 

“Can I ask you a question? Do you believe the whole ‘misery chick’ thing?” You counter, scooting along hardwood until your knees are pressed to his mattress, sinking into the cushioned flesh as far as it allows. Your stare is careful, not expectant of the negative or offended by the positive. “It’s okay if you do, just don’t lie about it.” 

There's a sadness in your delivery and Yoongi notes it immediately. Your attempt to hide the twitch of your lip and the anxious fold of your hands in your lap don’t escape him. Your tone is even, your eyes much the same and he wonders how anyone could ever believe it, he’s grateful that he never did. 

“Not for a second.” He responds almost immediately, waiting for any lingering doubt on your end. It never comes.

“Good.” Is your reply, just as even as the question itself. Your shoulders relax, posture not as stiff as before. “It does bother me, not as much as it used to, but it does. It bothers me that they don’t like that I’m not like them. I don’t mean that in the whole ‘I’m not like other girls’ way, but I’m just not Cathy college, you know? I don’t get excited about parties and drinking, I don’t need to go out all the time to have fun, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you if you do, but I don’t and because I’m not like everyone else I have to be ‘the misery chick’.

He’s sure you don’t realize it, but Yoongi see’s the build of tears in your eyes, unshed but there and it breaks him. Breaks him that something so trivial could be the defining factor of someone’s experience, that you can hide it so well at the cost of your own happiness.

“I mean, it’s college, you’d think that people have better things to do than come up with reasons to ridicule someone, but I guess I have too much faith.” You finish, glancing up to find Yoongi all ears, lips etched in frown. “Sorry, you didn’t ask for all of that.” 

“People suck.” Is all he says, hand extending toward you, inviting you to join him on his island, silent but sure. You crawl the length of the mattress, your back pressing the headboard, fingers laced with his own, warm and sweaty from nerves, yours or his neither of you are sure. 

“People do suck.” 

“I know what’ll make you feel better.” He offers, thumb running along the jagged edges of your knuckle, skin kissing skin. You lift your head, half leaning on his shoulder so your eyes meet, a reflection of picture perfect, a record in perfect sync. 

“Yeah?” 

“You should go out with me.” Yoongi doesn’t expect a snort, but the response is exactly what he receives your head averting to conceal your laughter, hands shielding your face from the expanse of an ego deflated by the graze of your accidental needle. “Why are you laughing?” 

“No I’m not—I just—you’ve been looking at me like I’m completely insane all semester! I didn’t think you liked me, I thought you were looking right through me...I kinda thought you were just coming to class high every day.” 

“I don’t even smoke, those were not the eyes of a stoner, they were the eyes of a man who’s very fond of you.” Yoongi defends his position, his usually dormant stare now bugged to exaggeration, unavailable for serious consideration. 

“My mistake, though I don’t know whether to be weirded out or completely flattered.” 

“You better be so flattered that I can see hearts in your eyes because you were pretty quick to agree to be my partner for this project!” Yoongi keeps the charade, glad to lighten the tension and draw from the heaviness of the previous conversation. It’s not a chapter that’s closed, but the beginning is the build and he’s planning an entire novel with you, so he figures his time isn’t limited by the tick of a clock nearing the midnight hour. 

“I heard I’ve got a sure ‘A’  and I’d be an idiot to pass that up.” 

“You could get a passing grade in your sleep, you can’t fool me. But you can go on a date with me.”

“So you, cool guy Min Yoongi, want to go on a date with me, ‘the misery chick’?” You gasp, hand clutched to your chest, Yoongi’s hand catching hold and bringing it to his own, to the beat of his heart, the bass begging for a melody that only you can satisfy. 

“More than anything.” 

“Well when you put it that way I have no choice but to say yes, but to be clear, I’ve definitely seen you looking at Hoseok with that same look in your eyes so you might wanna sort some stuff out first—”

#bangtanuniversity #bangtanidx #suganetwork #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #yoongi x reader #myg x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #yoongi oneshot #bts oneshot #houseofddaeng

[bangtangalicious]

the glow up | kth (4)

pairing: taehyung x reader

summary: after going off to college, you & your best friend committed to working out. a year later, the results show, and you cant wait for your hot hometown friends to see you. now all you wanna do is wild out and have lots of sex, and enjoy it without feeling insecure

genre: smut, childhoodfriends!au weightloss!au (is that a thing) friends-to-lovers!au

word count: 2.2k

warnings: tittie sucking, fingering (dubcon bc jungkook is an ass), misogyny/sexism, public sex (locker room), creampie, unprotected sex, slight slut shaming, body image issues (please remember that there is no ideal body type and every body is beautiful)

part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7                                                    masterlist

“Hey y/n” You were startled at his use of your name as opposed to his endearing princess. He was dressed nicely in a black hoodie with his glasses on, but his expression was tense.

“Tae” You acknowledge him as you got into the passenger seat. You really really liked his car now. “Listen, you don’t have to be sorry about anything”

“No, I really do though. I could have just shut up and let you and Jimin have your happy ending” He huffed, “We both know it’ll ultimately work out that way anyway, I just added drama and I’m sorry”

You wondered exactly when Taehyung got so mature, or if he had always been this way and you just never noticed.

“Anyways…I hope its okay, but I invited Hobi and Jungkook to lunch with us” Your face dropped slightly, and he noticed. You hated that he was being awkward. You wanted to feel all the amazing things you had the other day all over again. Taehyung was a drug. You had a hit and now you wanted more.

“Tae…” You whispered, grabbing his hand and bringing it to your chest. His jaw clenched as he made contact with your heaving breast. “Please” You made pleading eyes at him allowing him to squeeze your tit slowly.

“Hood of the car. Now” He exhaled sternly. You did ask requested, finding yourself in a similar position, back over the headlights, legs wide open, licking your lips in anticipation.

“Sit up” He ordered as he pulled you towards him so that he was standing in between your legs. He pulled down your shirt color until he had access to your clothed breast, moving your bra cup aside and allowing his mouth to trail kisses from your neck—“Mmm you smell good”—to your collar—finally kissing your nipple.

He looked up at you with lust shot eyes as he flicked his tongue across before enveloping it into his mouth. He sucked like a baby, moaning into you, the vibrations from his deep voice stimulating you even more. It was a sigh to behold, as he gripped your hips to hold you against him and sucked you.

You cried out, breathing heavily with the way his tongue was splashing around in circles causing waves of heat to come over you. You liked the ways his lips felt around your nipple, and the way his tongue drew circles around it-you took note. So I’m into this. Huh. You were very aware of how damp your underwear was getting, as yoou ran hyour hands through his hair, clenching as you tilted your head back and moaned.

“You’re fucking delicious princess” He remarked, breaking away finally to admire how he had made you swollen. He ran his thumb over his work, giving one last pinch, making you squirm before he fixed your clothing, “But…we’ll have time for this later. Let’s get going” His eyes had a playful glimmer as he winked at you, riled up and unsatisfied.

Fucking tease.

You arrived at a small urban cafe in the more happening part of town. Hobi and Jungkook were already at a table outside, with tall mimosas in front of them. Jungkook had on flashy sunglasses but lowered them as he saw you approaching, giving you a flirty look and smirking slightly as he watched you walk. Taehyung pulled a chair out for you and you took a seat by Jungkook after giving Hobi a quick back hug.

“Cute outfit y/n. I love the baggy look” Hobi commented. Your face reddened, realizing it was probably really obvious you were wearing Jimin’s clothes.

“She looks hot as fuck.” Jungkook thirsted, shamelessly glancing at your breasts were faintly imprinting against the fabric. He downed the last of his drink.

As you guys shared a meal, you enjoyed conversing openly with Hobi and Jungkook about their sex lives. You appreciated how open and candid they were as you continued to attempt to understand your own desires more.

“Y/n how does it feel to be part of that crowd now” Hobi asked. You tilted your head in confusion. “You know...now that you’re the sexiest girl in town I bet everyone’s been making moves.”

“Yeah I’ve definitely been getting a lot more attention from guys. Shows how fucking shallow half of them are”

“You girls are all hoes though so it doesn’t really matter. Why else would you try so hard to look sexy, yanno? Like I could be hooking up with the same girl and no one else but I still wouldn’t date her because she’s probably gonna dip for the next best dick she can get.” Jungkook added. Taehyung rolled his eyes and kicked him under the table “Hey, I’m just being honest. Why else would you go through a glow up phase? We all did it at some point, we were like yeah I wanna get laid so I better bulk up”

“No Jungkook that’s what you did” Hobi chuckled. “Hot girls aren’t all hoes, and hot guys aren’t just hot so they can get laid. I don’t agree with that. But I do think that everyone needs to fuck around a bit before they settle into a serious relationship or anything. I think it’s healthy when people go around for a bit and then finally are like, yeah okay I’ve seen what’s out there so I can say for certain what I want” Hobi commented, changing the topic. He delved into some details of a recent relationship of his but unfortunately his words did not register with you as you suddenly felt a hand slipping under the waistline of your sweats.

You knew it had to be Jungkook, Taehyung would never touch you without asking. You mouth formed an O as his hand traced along your aroused folds, still wet from Taehyung’s quick tit suck earlier. You gulped, straining to keep your mouth shut as Hobi continued on. You glanced at Taehyung who was observing you very carefully, clearly aware of what was likely going on.

Jungkook slid a finger into your cunt and it sucked it in welcomingly. You bit your lip as he slowly retracted it, allowing you to hear the faint squelching of your tender muscle. 

He repeated his motions, causing you to move forward until you were barely hanging on the edge of the chair. You gripped the table tightly, knuckles whitening with the pressure. You wouldn’t dare look at Jungkook, knowing that seeing his face would probably send you over the edge.

He pumped his fingers in and out and you couldn’t help but feel a strange mixture of dread and enjoyment. Yes you were horny, Taehyung had ensured that, so being fingered felt great. But a ball turned in your stomach at the unwanted intrusion from your friend. Were these guys really like this to all the “attractive” girls they hang out with? Do they just constantly flirt and grope them? Ugh.

Taehyung pursed his lips tightly before he finally snapped. “Fucking Christ, just go ahead and fuck right here why don’t you” He folded his arms over his chest, shooting both of you a disappointed glare.

Jungkook slowly pulled his finger out of you and put it straight into his mouth,  and you finally made eye contact with him as he licked your arousal off of himself. 

“Y/n we’re leaving. God Jungkook did you even get consent you prick?” Taehyung spat at him. You got up and Jungkook slapped your ass playfully.

“She’s one of the hot girls now, might as well treat her like one. Text me babe” He sent an air kiss your way and you shuddered slightly. Taehyung gently took your wrist and led you away.

It was later that evening. Your heart was pounding, and a slight sense of dizziness overcame you as you sped the treadmill up even faster. Taehyung had agreed to accompany you to the gym and you had been sprinting as fast as you could for almost half an hour trying to blow off steam from the events that had happened at lunch. 

Jungkook’s words stuck with you, and in a fucked up way you felt like he was trying to prove a point. You felt the air in your lungs escape as your chest tightened. You were overdoing it. You knew that, but you wanted to feel numb. Wanted to feel the bliss of the aftermath of a super intense workout.

Your mind wandered to the biggest issue on your plate. Jimin. You wanted more than anything to go to him. To tell him what happened and get his advice. But you messed that up, and now you were no longer sure if it was worth messing it up. You had never been so conflicted in your life. Your bones screamed at you that your pace was getting too much, pain shooting up to your knees as you pounded your feet with every step. 

Talk about running away from your problems.

“Y/n!” Taehyung came over from where he had been doing weights and turned off the treadmill, bringing you to a rapid halt. You panted, sweat soaking you head to toe. Taehyung grabbed your arm to help you stay standing as you began to sway side to side with lightheadedness. You could see black spots paint your vision. He wrapped his arm around you and helped you walk into the locker room where luckily there was no one.

“I don’t wanna feel it Tae…I don’t wanna feel anything. This is all too much. I am so fucking confused. I miss Jimin, and what Jungkook did today I…” You held back a sob, “He’s right. This is what I want isn’t it? So why do I hate it so much. All you guys do whatever you want to these girls you usually get with and sexualize them so much and I’m just not used to it but that’s what I wanted right?”

Taehyung sighed, stroking your back, “Look princess…Jungkook and I aren’t the greatest people. After getting to college, you know how it is, we kinda all became fuckboys. The people we hang out with literally breathe to get off. Everyone fucks everyone else. And I’m no saint at all. I fuck around even more than Jungkook does, albeit I’m a bit more respectful about it, but it’s all the same game to us. I understand that this is all new for you but…I just want you to know that for me, I’m not treating you any differently because of this weight loss thing. I promise. They way I fuck you, the way I treat you…I would have done it just the same a year ago.”

“You say that but”

“I’ve wanted to have sex with you for years okay. I knew you before all of this fucking hook-up culture. I wanted you because I liked you. I still like you, even though we rarely see each other anymore. Not just because of your body. It happened now because you initiated it. I don’t know how else to get it through your head. And by God, what the fuck were you just doing? Were you trying to make yourself pass out? Why would you run that fast?”

“I just needed to relieve some stress okay”

“Then let me help you” His voice was husky and low. Time slowed down as Taehyung carefully leaned closer to you. He trailed his fingers down your sides and around the waist of your shorts, tugging the fabric ever so subtly. He remained still, breathing heavily with a heartbeat drowning out everything. “You can say no. Any time. Even if you realize later that you don’t want to do this anymore you can stop me. I won’t ever get mad and I won’t ever judge you” His voice was quivering before he grabbed your waist and pressed himself up close to you. “Do you want this princess? Can I take care of you?”

You nodded your head as Taehyung leaned down and kissed you while gently pushing you back against the lockers. He quickly pulled off your tanktop, not minding the sweat as he inhaled sharply. He lifted you so you could wrap your legs around him and began to slowly rock his body against yours.

He moaned into you mouth as he felt the impact of your bodies colliding. He spread your legs out wider and began to grind against you faster. You held back screams as he grabbed your breasts. Taehyung licked his lips and kissed you harshly, biting down your lips before mumbling “You’re so fucking hot princess”

“Taehyung” You finally moaned, giving him all the motivation he needed to grind faster. He slipped his hands under your sports bra and began to caress you. You cursed in pleasure.

Suddenly the two of you heard footsteps coming into the locker room. Taehyung allowed you to slide down as he quickly backed away. He took your hand and led you to a far corner of the room before sitting on the locker room bench and pulling your body down on his lap. You looked at him with concern, but Taehyung ignored it completely.

“Tae...you make me feel so fucking good”

“Yeah?” He grinned

“Aren’t we going to get caught?”

“I don’t care” He quickly tugged down your shorts as well as his own revealing his thick cock, with precum budding furiously at the tip, aching to be released. He helped you lower yourself onto him before he gripped your hips and began bouncing you up and down his length.

“Scream my name” He demanded, whispering darkly into your ear “you’re doing so good”

You whimpered, “Taehyung” you cried out as you felt yourself peaking, “Taehyung oh my god don’t stop,” You begged. He was shaking you so violently that you finally were pushed over the edge. 

You screamed his name louder than you meant to, feeling Taehyung smile against your neck. He let you get up off of him while he fixed his shorts. He was still aroused, but he didn’t mind. He just wanted you to feel good.

“Is everything okay we heard screaming?” One of the gym staff members walked in just as you had managed to get decent.

“Yes sir, everything is fine! She just saw a spider, poor thing” Taehyung pulled you back into him so you could feel his still hard cock against your asscheek  as the staff member nodded and left.

You waited until the footsteps seemed more far off. You turned around and couldn’t suppress your big smile as you made eye contact with Taehyung, who also grinned widely. He grabbed your waist and began to undress you again quickly.

“Hey that’s not fair. I wanna see your shirt off too” You pouted. Taehyung smirked, obeying you and pulling it off effortlessly. You traced the muscles on his chest that formed a perfect 11.

“Like what you see?”

“Jimin has a six pack soooo” You teased as you tugged on his waistline, helping him slide off his shorts again. Your eyes scanned him as he became naked and you licked your lips, “Yeah…” You met his eyes and giggled, “I like what I see”

“Yeah you better” He teased before attacking you with kisses again.

Taehyung slid back inside of your tight pussy while maintaining eye contact with you. He began sucking your neck playfully. He watched you carefully as he began to move in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace as he saw your positive reaction. Taehyung nuzzled his face into your breasts. 

“You’ve been waiting for this all day haven’t you” You teased.

“Yeah and what if I have” His voice was raspy, full of lust. The sound send chills down your spine and turned you on more. Taehyung could tell. “Oh you like that huh?” He continued to talk in that voice, grinning as he trailed kisses back up to your mouth.

Taehyung shifted you so your back was on the bench. He spread your legs and entered you slowly. You tilted your head back and just took it all in. After some pumping Taehyung lowered himself closer to your body and looked at you deeply.

“You close?” You asked him sincerely. Taehyung nodded, moaning slightly into your shoulder. You were unsure what to do to help him at that point, your orgasm earlier leaving you too spent for another one. So you decided to just tease him. “What was it that they say in pornos...oh right. You’re doing so good baby” You felt Taehyung’s hips buckle at your words, “Will you please cum for me? God you’re sooooo hot mmm, just like that” You played your most seductive voice and Taehyung knew you were messing around but it still turned him on. 

He kissed you chastely, hands grabbing your ass tightly as he came. He cursed under his breath & eventually fell into your lap in exhaustion.

<------previous                                                                   next-------->

A/N: im tired man idk

taglist: (lmk if you wanna be added!!) @honeyspillings @hollowtree10

#taehyung x you #bangtansmut #bangtansmutcentral #btssmutcentral #bts smut central #bangtan smut net #bts smut #bts smut recs #taehyung smut #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #jimin smut #taehyung fanfic #bts fics

[let-them-read-fics]

Yours Truly (Pt. 2)

Requested By: Some of you!

Pairing: Jisoo x Fem!Reader

AU: College

Word Count: Part 1 -> 9,786 // Part 2 -> 7,433

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Pining, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Here's the second and final part of the imagine, gang. I hope you enjoy the adventures I wrote for you! Let me know about your fav part(s)!

♡ Happy Reading ♡

Part 1 -- Click Here

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

5.) Epiphanies

A Week Later

"Yuqi, why the hell did you drag me here? I'd so much rather be writing…" you shove your hands further into the pockets of your hoodie and look at her with a scowl. Rows of people fill the bleachers around you, everyone excited for the football game that's scheduled to start soon. Happy couples sit together all around the stadium, and the sight only works to remind you of how weird things are with Jisoo right now.

"One: it's a Friday night and you need to let loose, and two: I wanted to come, so you have to tag along by default. The rules of friendship are very simple, Y/N," she trails off, tilting her head at you with a smile. 

"Well I am gonna go get some food," you imitate her, "Do you want anything?" You stand from the bench and look down at her, noticing how her permed hair sticks up in a few different places. You smooth it out for her as she answers, "Nachos, please." 

"Alright, dork. I'm sure the line's kinda long, but come look for me if I'm not back in 20." She pats your butt as you leave, and you just shake your head with a smile. 

"--I know! Did you hear about Lee's new girlfriend? I heard she got in a fight with his ex last ni--"

"I'm fucking starving bro."

"Yeah, they totally hooked up at Jackson's party!"

Various conversations work their way to your ears as you walk towards the back of the line, but you attempt to not get too invested in the gossip. As welcoming as your school tends to be, even it has its fair share of scandals and drama. You've never been one to care about rumors though, and you don't plan to start now.

"I heard that Jisoo likes someone." 

Funny how plans can change in an instant, don't you think? 

You can't find it in yourself to ignore the childish desire to eavesdrop, so you listen in as the line slowly shifts forward with each new customer served, doing your best to be inconspicuous. 

"Supposedly she's been into them for a while but they don't know about it. I guess Lisa is planning to get them together tonight or something, I don't know." You recognize the brunette speaking as Seulgi, a dance major that you share a couple classes with. She's talking to Yeri, whom you've seen a few times in passing. 

That must be why she was defensive about the kiss; she has feelings for someone else. 

"Ooh, that'll be interesting. I can't say that I'm not disappointed, though; now Jisoo's gonna be off the market." The shorter girl frowns, basically reading your mind with her statement. You've never fooled yourself into believing you have a chance with Jisoo, but knowing that she'll be whisked away by some lucky classmate of yours definitely isn't an easy pill to swallow. 

You pass the remaining wait time by imagining who that person may be. Jisoo has a lot of friends, but you've never seen her around campus with any particular love interest; she always puts her studies first, deciding that her education is far more important than any potential relationship.

You remain lost in your thoughts until it's your turn to order.

"Hey Y/N, what can I get for you?" The cashier greets, resetting the register as she grins at you. 

"Hi Yeji," you smile back, happy to see your old friend again after what feels like forever. Your busy schedules have kept you from hanging out much lately, but seeing her now is something you're grateful for. "I'll take two waters, a medium nacho, and 1 hot dog, please." 

"You want everything on it?" She asks in reference to your last request, assuming you still stick with the order you used to go with in your childhood. 

"You know it. And make sure to--"

"--spread the toppings out well. I remember, girl." She says with a wink, turning around to get started on your order. The familiar interaction warms your heart, aided by the idea that some things never change. After she packages your things up in a convenient little container, you thank her and pay, walking away with a promise to meet up at the school's café next week.

About halfway back to your seat, something unexpected happens.

"Rosie, we can't buy out the whole place. This is the 4th trip we've taken back here and the game hasn't even started yet!" You freeze as you round the corner, almost dropping your food as Jisoo's low voice sounds off nearby. 

"Unnie, I didn't even get to eat much of the other stuff at all! Lisa and Jennie stole it and shared it with everyone else," the artist pouts, rolling her hands into fists at her sides like a toddler. 

"Fine. But this is the last trip I'm taking." She warns, rolling her eyes when the Australian attacks her with a flurry of kisses. "Yah! Let's go before we miss something." She says, pushing her off of her with a smile on her face. 

Even her voice makes your heart ache, and it reminds you of what her kiss felt like against your lips. It was short, no doubt, and barely there; but the sparks remain, waiting to be reignited anytime she's around. Maybe you're just destined to pine.

----

"There you are! I was literally about to go steal some food from Shuhua because you were taking so long." 

"Yeah, yeah," you say, sitting down beside Yuqi with the cardboard box in your hands. "You're lucky I love you enough to pay for this. Now I'll have to survive on 3 grains of rice and ramen for the next few weeks." 

"Oh, the struggles of being a broke college student." She says woefully, clutching her hands together in front of her chest to add to the effect. 

"Precisely," you agree, scooting closer to offer her some nachos. When she tries to greedily take the whole tray of them, you're quick to stop her. 

"Ah, ah, ah," you warn, pulling her wrist back down. "We're sharing, chica." She huffs, but eventually settles down and decides to shove her face full instead of protesting anymore. 

Now, with your best friend happily eating, you relax and begin to prepare yourself for the match. 

--

"LET'S GO!" You shout with Yuqi, chanting together as your school's anthem echoes throughout the stadium. The rival team has been behind the entire game, but they closed the gap in the last few minutes and now it's neck and neck. Your band plays loudly to encourage your team, and it seems to be working; they manage to repeatedly hold the others off and keep them from scoring. 

It's the start of the fourth quarter now -- the home stretch. With their spirits still high, your team continues to keep victory out of their opponents hands. The black paint underneath their eyes is really streaked now, showing all the effort and sweat that they've put into the game so far. A beautiful sunset just previously gave way to a rapidly darkening evening sky, allowing some stars to peek out now.

"My high school team sucked; this is epic!" Yuqi says, making you laugh. You tear your eyes away from the heated game to say something to her, but all thoughts soon disappear from your mind and you stop mid-sentence. 

She notices your sudden silence and looks at you, only realizing what's happening once she follows your line of sight. Jeong is standing against the metal fence that borders the track, mingling with everyone at the bottom of the bleachers. That doesn't bother you, but what you see next certainly does; you spot Jisoo beside him, giggling at something he said as he tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. 

"Oh shit," Yuqi breathes out, fully grasping the weight of the situation now. She doesn't even attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, because he knows how in love you are with Jisoo and yet there he is, flirting away. He's the only other person besides Yuqi who knows of your feelings for the brunette, and you really trusted him with it. Clearly that was a mistake. You blink a few times and set your jaw, quickly looking away as he moves closer to whisper something in her ear over the noise of the crowd. 

"I'm gonna head out to the car. Just let me know who wins," you mumble, brushing past her on your way toward the exit. You know there's no way you'd be able to focus on the game anymore after seeing that, so going is your best option. She catches your arm before you can slip away, and says, "Wait, I'm coming with you. And don't even try to tell me no; I can always watch highlights later. I'm not gonna let you be alone right now." 

Knowing it's pointless to argue anymore, you nod once and wait for her to gather up her trash and coat. "Let's go," she says, taking your hand after tossing her garbage in the can conveniently placed at the end of your row. She squeezes it a few times for reassurance, and a bittersweet smile works onto your lips at the gesture. 

You don't notice how Jisoo's eyes follow you, every fiber of her being yelling at her to go after you. She hates seeing you sad, and although she isn't 100% sure of the reason for it now, all she wants is to cheer you up. 

"So, Jisoo. Do you have any plans after the game?" Jeong smirks, quirking a brow suggestively at his own question. Jisoo grimaces, saying, "Yeah, I do. I have to study." She tries to find you in the crowd again, but it seems that you've already slipped away. 

"We're throwing a party tonight, you should come." He leans a little closer to her, but she takes a step back. The only reason she's even talking to him right now is because Lisa introduced them, and it would be impolite not to. She turns him down, yet again sneaking a glance around the stadium. 

"No wonder Y/N's too chicken to ask you out; you're hard to get, but I don't mind a challenge." Her head whips around at his statement, heart regaining that familiar uptick at the mention of you. "What?" She blinks, not believing her ears. Surely she was just hearing things. 

"I said I don't mind a challenge," his words come out slightly slurred, and the effects of the alcohol he's been drinking are beginning to show themselves in all the wrong ways. The more he talks, the less Jisoo can stand him. "Look, Jeong -- I'm not interested. I'm sure there are other girls here that would love to get to know you, but I'm not one of them. Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, turning her body to the side to maneuver around him and get to the stairs. He lets her go without another word, his pride too bruised to come up with a more fitting response than a muttered insult. 

She makes quick work of getting to the parking lot, where she spots you approaching Yuqi's car, head hanging a bit. Seeing you upset saddens her, and she's determined to find out what's wrong. 

"Y/N! Wait up!" The shout catches your attention, and you slowly spin around. Jisoo begins to jog out to you, and a scoff slips past your lips (though you don't put much effort into stopping it). You're hurt, and half of the reason for your pain is staring right back at you like nothing happened. 

"What do you want, Jisoo?" You sigh, not looking forward to where this conversation will most certainly go.

"I want to talk, Y/N." She's in front of you now, scanning her eyes between yours to gauge your reaction. 

"What is there to say? Just go back to talking to Jeong; you looked like you were enjoying yourself." She can hear the jealousy laced in your tone, and things finally -- finally -- begin to click for her. 

"Is that what this is about?" She asks in reference to your sadness. The question isn't accusatory at all; she's genuinely trying to piece things together. 

A disbelieving laugh leaves you at that. How is she still so oblivious? "Yes, Jisoo, it is. I just had to witness someone who I thought was my friend flirt with my crush. So yeah, that's what this is about." Sensing that she doesn't know what to say, you decide to conclude things for her. This is already pitiful enough, and you'd rather spare the both of you from having the "it's not you, it's me" talk. 

"Look, I get it. You don't like me back, and you were only trying to be friendly by inviting me to the rehearsal that night. Just please, for the both of us, forget it even happened. Forget all of this. It was a mistake, and I won't do it again."

Jisoo hates that you're jumping to conclusions without even knowing her true feelings; you automatically think that she couldn't possibly feel the same, and you use her moment of silence as a form of evidence to prove that. The complete opposite is true, though you'd never give her enough time to straighten out her jumbled thoughts and tell you that. 

She finds her voice when you turn away, and she reaches out to touch your hand. "Stop, you've got it all wrong." Your eyes glance down to your intertwined hands, but you wiggle out of her grip with a heavy sigh. Over your shoulder, you shakily say, "You don't have to pretend for me, Jisoo. I'll be alright. If he makes you happy, then so be it." 

With that, you get in Yuqi's car and tell her to drive away, leaving Jisoo to deal with the sinking feeling in her chest that worsens as the car's tail lights grow dimmer and dimmer in the distance. You're gone, and she really has no idea how to come back from this. 

6.) Broken Hearted

The next few weeks were hell. You avoided Jisoo as much as possible, too embarrassed to face her after what happened and too weak to be close to her again. You'd surely fall even harder if you allowed yourself to grow any closer, so you didn't take the risk. How could you? Falling alone isn't an enjoyable experience, and you've been teetering on the edge of no return ever since that afternoon at the daycare. 

It was hard enough to escape her hold -- her face was everywhere, plastered on ads and bulletin boards all throughout campus, on reminders and sign ups for student council. You used your sick days in order to hide away in your dorm and block out the world, only being comforted by Ryujin when she wasn't busy with her own life or Yuqi when she could spare a few hours. They always made sure to care for you as much as they could, knowing first hand how tough heartbreak can be -- especially with the added stress of schoolwork. 

One person you thought about often was Jeong. Every time he'd cross your mind, dirtying up your brainwaves with the mere notion of himself, you'd grimace. He didn't deserve the attention, and yet you couldn't help but question why he did that to you. He hadn't reached out since that night, likely due to Yuqi giving him a piece of her mind after the game. He made it clear that he wasn't sorry, and that if given the chance, he'd play his cards even better and hopefully score a date with Jisoo. 

Maybe that was the worst part of it all. Hearing that it hadn't just been a stupid thing he did because he was drunk; he realized the weight of his actions, and he'd do it again, over and over, without caring about how you fit into the equation. That football game was simply a turning point, hidden in plain sight as an unassuming night for you to hang out with Yuqi. But you learned more then than you had ever intended to; Jeong's selfish, and he probably never even cared for you in the first place. The idea of that makes you feel dirty -- like you wasted so much of your time with such a horrible person, sticking up for him and defending his name when he wasn't around when he never even deserved that in the first place. You wish you would've known who he really was back then; you would've stayed away. 

Unbeknownst to you, Jisoo was struggling much like you -- minus the whole "betrayed by a best friend" situation. Every time that she showed up in class, she hoped with every piece of herself that you'd walk through the door and grace the room with your presence. You seldom ever did, though -- but when you ran out of free days of absence and were forced to attend class in order to keep your grades up, you never even uttered a word to her. She'd make it a point to ask questions in class, hoping that hearing her voice would bring something out of you, as yours did to her. She longed to talk to you again, if only for a minute; but your resolve remained strong, and her determination grew weaker as the days went by. 

Being the person she is, though, she knew giving up wasn't an option. After a few weeks of that cycle, greeting stands were placed at the front doors of each complex on campus, manned by different members of the council. She came up with a story for the administration on the fly, using her people skills to convince them that it would be good for student morale and getting more people to join clubs. It was a great effort, but she underestimated your avoidance skills; you thwarted her plans again, slipping right through her strategically linked fingers. 

Eventually, she lost hope. She exhausted every option she knew to try, and the girls ran out of new ones as well. Seeing their unnie so upset saddened them, and they did all they could to cheer her up in any and every way they knew how. 

7.) Premiere Night

"Y/N, get up. You're gonna shower and get dressed if I have to force you to do it myself." Yuqi commands, blasting into your room and flipping on the overhead light that shines far too bright for your liking. 

"Mmm," you groan in protest, not even bothering to roll over. 

"I mean it; don't test me, you know I'm true to my word."

"Why, Yuqi?"

"Because we're going to the performance tonight. The big show that everyone has been going on about is premiering, and you're coming with me to see it."

"I can't do that." You say, her words sobering you up from your sleepy stupor.

"I know who the lead is," she informs, already knowing about your reasons for being hesitant, "and that's precisely why we're going. You can't keep living like this, so either go get your girl, or agree to be friends with her and work past what you're dealing with." 

"You sound like a mom at the end of an 80s movie."

"80s movie moms are valid, so I'll take that as a compliment. Now go!" She shouts, shoving you off the bed. You tumble to the floor in a heap of blankets and pillows, still managing to hit your funny bone as you let out a pained groan. 

"Remind me to slap her later, Ryujin." 

"Will do." She salutes, reaching a hand down to help you up. With one last glare at an annoyingly bubbly Yuqi, you head to the bathroom to shower. 

----

"How do I look?" You ask, looking yourself up and down in the skinny mirror attached to the wall. 

"Is it gay if I say I'd ask you out?" Yuqi asks with a smile, fanning herself animatedly when you strike a pose. 

"Very much so, yes." 

"Well, hand me the rainbow suspenders, then." 

You push her over with a laugh -- the first real one you've shared in a while -- and wrap her in a hug. 

"Thank you, for real. I don't know where I'd be if I didn't have you." You say against her shoulder, pulling back to look at your roommate and add, "Either of you." The three of you settle in for a group hug and tell a few more jokes before Yuqi finally drags you out of the dorm. 

----

"How does it feel to be back in society?" Yuqi whispers, leaning in close to you to read the seat numbers printed on your tickets. 

"As lame as ever." You add, amusingly unenthused. 

"You're never gonna convince Jisoo to date your dumbass with that attitude." She retorts, feeling a little guilty when she sees your expression change upon hearing her name. You're afraid to see where the two of you will stand at the end of the night, so saying it's still a sore subject is the understatement of the year. 

"I'm messing with you, dude. If she doesn't want to be with you, then it's her loss; but I highly doubt that's the case. I've heard she misses you a lot." For once, Yuqi's words are halfway encouraging to hear, and you let out a light smile. 

"Well I'm prepared to worry about that whole situation later. For now, let's find our seats and enjoy the show." Your best friend quickly agrees, and the two of you squeeze through the crowds in the aisles to get to your row. 

----

"Jisoo, I promise you'll do well. You've been practicing for months; you've got this," Soo-hyun says, rubbing his co-lead's back in reassuring circles. The certainty in his deep voice gives Jisoo some semblance of security, and she stands to look at him with one final, nervous sigh. Stage fright has never been this big of an issue for her, but the size of the crowd and the idea that you might be out there scare the hell out of her. She wants you to be there with all of her heart, but she doesn't know if she'll be able to handle watching you walk away again. The past few weeks have been torture, and she misses your presence and witty remarks more than she ever thought possible. 

"Thank you, Soo-hyun. I'll meet you out there in a couple minutes, just let me collect myself."

He nods and says, "Take your time. I'll let Mrs. Choi know," before leaving and shutting the door behind himself. Now alone again, Jisoo digs through her personal bag that lays neatly on the small futon of the dressing room. When her fingers come in contact with that familiar material she's spent hours staring at, she bites the inside of her cheek and unfolds it for the millionth time. Multiple poems and blurbs litter the page, accompanied by cute doodles and cartoons here and there that give it a personal feel. She's spent the time away from you methodically working through the different writings, restraining herself from reading all of them in one setting so that she can have new content from time to time. 

She's down to the last one, now, and a surprising sort of realization hits her when she reads it. It instills within her a sense of determination -- determination to get you back and set things right, one way or another. She makes a plan to find you after the performance.

-- After The Performance -- 

It was even more spectacular than you ever imagined it could be. The school spared no expense in getting the best props, employing the most skilled technicians on hand, and recruiting the best artists that the school had to paint the backdrops. Everyone behind the scenes worked tirelessly to produce the best show possible, and their efforts really paid off. 

And, of course, you can't forget the actors. 

The entire cast was incredible, their talent matching some of the world's most sought-after stars. Every part was played to perfection; even the smaller, supporting roles were acted with passion, really bringing the piece together as a whole. The production left you wanting more, too inspired and awestruck by the amazing performances to be content with just seeing it once. So, after numerous calls for an encore, the cast returned to run through a few of their key scenes. 

---

As the cast takes their final bow, large cannons placed on either side of the stage shoot out bursts of colorful confetti, and you watch it flutter down around them. Some try to catch a piece or two to add to their scrapbooks, wanting to have a trinket from their college years, while others just hug each other and twirl around with content smiles on their faces. The crowd continues its loud cheering, and eventually you find the courage to sneak a glance at Jisoo.

To your surprise, she's looking right back. 

Her eyes hold a mixed softness; she's proud of herself and glad that you came to support her on such a big night, but part of her wants to escape the busyness of it all and tell you everything she's been feeling. She'd be content with looking at you forever, she realizes, as she studies you. You're the true star in her eyes, always shining so bright and making everyone feel at home whenever they're around you. She hopes you know how special you are. 

Mrs. Choi approaches the cast from stage right, gathering their attention to congratulate them and commend them for their performances. Jisoo reluctantly looks away from you, unsure if it's the last time she'll be seeing you tonight. The thought upsets her, but there isn't much she can do about it right now; so, she gives her attention to her professor and flashes that smile that makes everyone weak in the knees. 

You knew it was just a matter of time before she'd be pulled away and immersed in some conversation about the show, but the selfish side of you never wanted her to look away. No matter how confusing things may be because of all of your unresolved issues, she still looks at you like she always had before -- her gaze is kind, albeit bittersweet, but it's full of care. Seeing her like that makes you feel like even more of an asshole than you already do -- maybe you should have just listened to her at the game. Running away was an immature choice, rooted entirely in your own sadness in that moment as you deprived yourself of any explanation she could've offered, though you can't judge yourself too harshly. The situation is complicated, and you still don't know whether to hate yourself for running or go easy on yourself in light of what happened. 

When Yuqi sees you stand up and shuffle towards the end of your row, she sends you a warning look. 

"Dude, I'm not gonna run away. I'm literally just gonna step outside for some fresh air, I promise." She visibly relaxes, no longer having to prepare herself to wrangle you back into the seat. 

"Fine. But if you aren't back in 15 minutes I'm coming to track you down. You really need to talk to her." 

You sigh, nodding in agreement. "I know, trust me. Just let me get my thoughts together first." She sends you off to do just that, but not until the two of you complete the special handshake you made up all those months ago. 

---

Brisk air rushes over your skin in waves the moment you exit the side door of the building, automatically sending goosebumps to raise in its wake. It feels nice, though; it grounds you, and works to cool off your heated skin. The atmosphere inside was thick with the tension you've been feeling ever since what happened that night at the game, and its effects were only heightened by the raw performances of the evening. Passion and longing were the driving factors of the play, ironically, and many of the scenes drew eerie parallels to your current situation. So, it's no wonder that you're thankful to step away from it all for a bit.

You greet a few stray audience members that're puttering around outside as well, opting to walk down a little further away from them and lean against the building. The wall's brick material feels rough against your back, lightly scratching it whenever you shift your weight from one foot to the other. You don't mind it, though; it's oddly nostalgic, somehow. 

When you hear the door open again, you think nothing of it. The metal hinges latch just the same as they had for you, so there's really no reason for you to even look up. However, that all changes when you feel someone's eyes on you.

Unprepared is leaps and bounds away from being a fitting statement to describe how you feel in that moment; Jisoo stands merely 10 feet away from you at most, right next to the stage door that she just came out of. Her hands fiddle with the drawstrings of her costume, seemingly always needing to be occupied when she's nervous or unsure of herself; it's a habit you've picked up on after seeing it so many times. 

The longer you look at her, the more you want to look away; she's so beautiful it hurts, and the silence is eating away at you. You can't blame her, though; neither of you know what to say or do, and the only thing you seem capable of is staring at each other. When you break the intense eye contact you were sharing to turn away, only intending to take a minute to collect yourself, Jisoo is suddenly set in motion. 

She's afraid you'll leave again, and she's prepared to fight even harder for you this time.

I love you as the stars love the night sky

A fateful, cyclic romance

A game of eager greetings and reluctant goodbyes

Those words -- ones that you remember penning one day in class while completely entranced by Jisoo -- roll from her lips effortlessly, as if she had spent time committing them to memory. She had, in fact; whenever days passed without her even catching a glimpse of you, she always found herself unfolding that note again, tracing a finger over the curve of your unique letters as she reread the poem. It always brought her comfort to think that you were in just as deep as her, and a similar sense of hope blossoms in her chest now when she spots an unbelieving smile tug at the corner of your lips as you slowly turn to face her again. 

You're still into her, and she's falling even deeper at the realization. Maybe she didn't lose you after all. 

She takes calculated steps towards you and breathes a sigh of relief when you stay put, not showing any signs of running. The wheels in your head are going into overdrive now, turning and churning as you process her little recital, and she prays with all of her heart that you won't be upset once you put two and two together. 

"How did you…"

"You dropped it one day, and I picked it up. I meant to give it back to you, but I guess I just never got around to it." She feels a little guilty for keeping it as long as she has, but it's served as a way of keeping you close during your time apart. Those bits and pieces of you, scattered around on that page, encapsulated by the annotations and doodles you so kindly left behind, have stayed in her heart. Ever since she discovered it all that time ago, it's never been very far from her; she cherishes it more than you'll ever know. 

"You didn't show it to anyone, right?" Your voice is laced with worry, lowered a bit to keep others from overhearing. 

"No, no! Of course not. I just… kept it for myself. You're really talented; I couldn't stop reading your stuff." 

"Thank, I guess?" You awkwardly chuckle, still a bit rusty on how to interact with her after everything. Plus, to be fair, having your crush read one of the love letters you wrote about her is a bit unheard of. Newfound territory, you think to yourself.

"How long?" You ask after a minute of silence, only realizing how loaded your question is after it slips past your lips, turning into a puff of steam in the chilly atmosphere. "How long have you… felt that way about me?" You quickly add, "Assuming that you feel what the poem says, of course." 

An amused smile tweaks her lips at how cute you are. "I do, Y/N. I always have; ever since that afternoon at the daycare." 

"Really?" The question is quiet, full of childlike disbelief. 

"Really. It was always you." She says it freely now: unafraid.

The sentiment is sweet, but memories of the football game come flooding back and you're reminded that as much as you want to skip this next part, you still have things to discuss. 

"What about Jeong?" 

"What about him?"

"Did you ever like him?"

"No. The girls thought so, but it was just a misunderstanding. That's why Lisa introduced us at the game; she thought I had a crush on him, but I told her that you were always the one I was looking at. I told all of the girls that, after that night." 

Her confession renders you speechless -- only capable of listening and nodding every now and then. She takes advantage of your silence to finally explain herself and tell you everything she's been dying to. 

"I didn't know you felt the same until our talk in the parking lot. I mean, I was hopeful after some of the moments we had, but I didn't know for sure until then. I wanted to beg you to stay and hear me out, but you left before I had the chance."

You blink a few times as the reality of her words begin to sink in. "I had no idea…"

"Yeah, well…" she trails off, unsure of what to say next. She's forgiven you for walking away, knowing you were just hurt, but the whole situation still left a bad taste in her mouth. So much pain could've been avoided for the both of you if you had just listened.

"How did they take it?"

"They yelled at me for waiting so long to tell them, but then they tried to help me get you back. Remember those student council booths?" She leans in a little closer to ask that last line, her lips pulling to the side in that iconic smirk of hers. 

You audibly gasp and point at her animatedly. "I knew that was you!"

"Mhm, pulled some fancy-sounding excuse out of my ass to convince the board, and boom; 20 brand new tables set up the next day. I still can't believe you managed to slip past them, though. I mean, c'mon, have you seen how talkative those kids can be?" 

"Trust me, it wasn't easy," you laugh with her. "I had to sneak to the back entrances like a drug dealer." 

"I can totally see that." 

"I'm dedicated, what can I say?" The stupid hair flip you do makes her laugh even harder, clutching her stomach as those beautiful sounds slip past her lips. 

As your shared laughter eventually turns into soft chuckles, she smiles at you, saying, "I really missed this. I missed you, so so much." 

"I've been a wreck without you, Jisoo. It's honestly embarrassing." 

She looks at you with something new shining in her eyes, and she carefully contemplates what she's about to admit. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Of course." 

"I rarely cry, Y/N, but I did over you. So you have no reason to be embarrassed. It seems like both of us were pretty bad off." She looks down after saying that, scuffing her foot against the concrete of the sidewalk. Being vulnerable isn't usually easy for her, and she never really lets people see that side of her -- not even the girls. She feels like she has to stay strong for them to keep things running smoothly, but she fails to realize how important her own feelings are. You're different, though; she feels like her entire collection of secrets would be safe with you, and you make her feel secure enough to be open like that. 

When she feels you step closer and hook two fingers underneath her chin, her eyes dart up to yours and her heart speeds up. Your other arm hesitantly wraps around her waist, giving her plenty of time to step away and deny you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she couldn't possibly want someone like you that you're genuinely surprised when she steps further into your embrace, pulling your arm tighter around herself. 

Her right arm comes to rest loosely on your shoulder as her other hand caresses your forearm, rubbing various patterns against your smooth skin. "I tried so hard to get you to pick up on my flirting," she starts, playing with the baby hairs at the nape of your neck as she holds you close. "Every touch," she runs a finger down your arm, leaving a trail of electricity in its wake. "Every look," she moves her hand from your neck to your cheek, cupping it sweetly as she gazes into your eyes. She strokes your skin with the pad of her thumb, smiling beautifully when she feels you nuzzle into her hold even more. 

"And that kiss…" she says, sounding breathless at the mere thought of it. "I wanted it to last forever." 

"Why didn't you tell me that, then?" You ask, not even a trace of anger in your tone. You're determined to let go of all the hurt and fear that your misunderstandings have caused, opting instead to finally get the answers you've wanted for so long. "After I came back from putting Aera to bed you were just… different. And then when you said it was just a part of the script--"

"I know. I was afraid that if I let myself have you like that -- if I let you in all the way -- there'd be no going back." When she sees the confusion building in your eyes, she continues on. "I don't usually let myself get distracted; I can't afford it. You know how seriously I take my studies." You nod, recalling the numerous times you've found her in the library until it closed, studying hard for the exams everyone knew she'd ace. "But you wiggled your way past every line of defense I ever put up. You became my favorite distraction." A dopey grin tugs at your lips at receiving that title, and you subconsciously hold your head a little higher.

"But I wasn't prepared for that. You make me feel things that I've never felt before, and I really didn't think I could afford to let myself have you. Not fully, anyway. I could deal with a crush; I told myself I could keep you close enough that I wouldn't miss you, but far enough that I could keep myself protected."

"What changed?" You ask, smoothing your hands over the small of her back, feeling the heat radiate from her skin. They've worked their way under the hem of her shirt during your conversation, subconsciously seeking to share her warmth, and Jisoo has been acutely aware of it the entire time. 

"When I saw you walk away like that I didn't know what to do with myself. I've had people leave before, so it's not a new thing; but I never missed them like I've missed you."

A bittersweet, melancholic look settles on your face at that; she deserves every good thing that the world has to offer, so knowing that you played a part in her sadness -- whether it be direct or indirect -- disheartens you a bit. 

"But you're here now, and that's all that matters." She says, leaning her forehead against yours. 

"And I'm not going anywhere," you affirm, holding her even closer than before. She brushes her nose against yours with a quiet sigh, relieved to be in your arms, caught safely in your warm embrace. If falling feels like this, she's more than okay with it. 

"Can I?" You ask, glancing down to the heart shaped pillows you've dreamt of having against yours again. 

She nods, uttering a soft, "Please", as she tilts her head to the side in expectancy. You close the remaining distance, bending your knees slightly to tighten your hold on her waist and pull her flush up against yourself. Both of her arms wrap around your neck now, occasionally coming down to tilt your head and allow her better access, or run her fingers through your hair. It's sensual and meaningful, but an air of urgency hangs in the air, thickening it the longer her lips are on you. Both of you are making up for lost time, so it's no wonder you're so eager. 

She takes your bottom lip between her teeth as she backs you up, pressing you against the brick wall that you had migrated a few steps away from during your conversation. If she were kissing anyone else, perhaps she'd care about the strangers staring, or what they might say; but as she stands here, feeling your hands explore her body in the ways that she's dreamed of and your lips kiss her senseless, that's the furthest thought from her mind. Her hands grab at the collar of your shirt, balling the material up in her palms as she pushes her lips against yours from a new angle. 

When you eventually pull back for air, you can't help but say the phrase that's been sitting on your mind for weeks. "I love you." 

Her heart speeds up to match yours, both of them racing as you look at each other with giant smiles on your faces. "I love you, too. If you hadn't already guessed that," she chuckles, leaning up to kiss you again. This one's more innocent, though -- full of giddiness as you replay each other's declaration in your minds. 

"Y/N L/N IF YOU AREN'T OUT HERE--"

Yuqi bellows loudly, blasting through the side door and out into the chilly night air. The metal smacks against the wall from the force she exerted, and you physically cringe at the sound. Jisoo does the same, quickly pulling away to find out what's going on. 

When Yuqi's line of sight settles on the two of you, her eyebrows raise and a smirk lands on her lips. "Well, well, well. Looks like my work here is done," she says, cocking her head to the side self-assuredly when she sees how swollen both of your lips are and how mussed your clothing is. You send her a look that she registers as "Get lost", and she retreats back into the performance hall with her hands raised in surrender.

"Idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head as you watch the door close behind her, its poor hinges still recovering from her assault. Jisoo's giggle makes you turn back to her, finding a breathtaking smile forming on her lips. "You're so cute," she coos, poking your cheek, "especially when you blush like that." 

You fight the bashfulness that attempts to take over, managing to cock a brow at her and say, "Hey, watch it -- I might not be so kind in my next poem if you don't stop teasing me." 

"Aww, don't be like that, baby." 

She tenses up after realizing she let that pet name slip out at the end, but your smile only widens. 

"Say that again."

"Baby," she drawls in her signature sultry tone, stepping closer to you again. 

"Mmm, I could get used to that." You hum against her lips, pressing yours to them at the end of your statement. 

"Good, because there's more where that came from." 

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," she settles into your arms again, looking into your eyes with so much love you nearly swoon. "This is only the beginning for us." 

#jisoo kim #kim jisoo #kim jisoo x fem reader #jisoo x fem reader #kpop blackpink #blackpink #blackpink fanfic #blackpink angst #blackpink fluff #blackpink imagines #blackpink oneshots #blackpink scenarios #jisoo turtle rabbit kim #park chaeyoung #roseanne park #jennie kim #lisa manoban #let-them-read-fics #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #blackpink x reader #ryujin #itzy #yeji #yuqi #gidle #red velvet #seulgi #yeri

[devilrainbunnie]

._ anthurium pt 2 _.

tomura shigaraki x fem!reader

1/X/3

CW: anxiety trigger, manipulation, cheating, mentions of alcohol, mentions of depression and mental health (minors DNI)

a/n: I could not get the second part idea out of my head, I’m also going to try to write properly instead of doing all lowercase for practice. I’m used to doing lowercase but, whatever.

Tomura sprawled out over the black couch in his now empty, and lifeless apartment. His eyes were locked to the ceiling above him, though he was looking at nothing in particular. There was an unfamiliar feeling inside of his chest he had never felt before. Never in the mans life had he ever felt, or thought the way he did now. All his life he had done nothing but take, hate, use and abuse everything in this world-- so why couldn’t he stop feeling this heavy weight of regret within his body? Why did the corners of his eyes prick with hot, salty tears? Why couldn’t he stop thinking about you? In his mind, he blames you for this feeling. If you had just stayed, and let this continue, he wouldn’t feel like this. 

But deep down he knows, that this is all of his fault.

He hurt you, constantly. Because you had always been there, accepted him, and coddled him, he never expected you to go anywhere. No matter what he did, or no matter what he said to you. He had hurt you in the past, many times. You always stayed. That made him believe you were okay with everything, or that’s at least what he told himself to make what he did not as bad. He never saw you crying, he never saw you actually upset. He thought your sometimes pestering and anxious ways you tried to confront him were nothing but annoying, not that you were silently begging him to love you and see he was breaking you. Or maybe he just didn’t want to see it. He didn’t even think about how it was affecting you. He was selfish, when all you were was selfless. You’d given everything to him, after Kurogiri was taken, you took care of him. Fed him, comforted him, made sure he was holding it together. Even before that, you tried to stop him from scratching at himself, you made sure he ate more than just take out, and junk food. You made sure he slept every night, showered every day. You helped him keep his things tidy. 

You gave him something he had never had; love. You gave up everything to be with him, and you made sure to always put him above yourself, even when you shouldn’t have. He realized up until recently that he made the biggest mistake he would ever make. He lost the one person who would’ve dropped everything for him, for someone who was nothing but a good fuck. Someone who was manipulating him, someone who quite literally used their quirk to make him believe what he was feeling was genuine. 

Tomura hated himself for it, he felt like a fucking garbage can. He lost his everything. He lost his love, his life, his happiness... all for some sex, and higher ranks. 

He tried a couple times to release his pent up emotions by turning to the girl, but he felt sick any time he put his hands on her. Everything came crashing down to him, and it didn’t exactly happen immediately. The first time it hit him, is when Dabi tried to kill him. 

...

The day after you left, Tomura was furious with you. Believing you had betrayed him, deceived him, and that he was going to unleash hell the next time he laid eyes on you. He slammed doors all night long after he found your note, drinking some sake and staying up until the sun rose. That morning he had a meeting, he got ready and wore his usual new outfit, a fancy black suit, with a long black trench coat and fur lined at the hood. Something you had actually helped him pick out, even though he whined about it being itchy against his face and neck constantly. He preferred his big hoodies, skinny jeans and converse, but now that he was a leader of such a professional group-- he was expected to look the part.

He adjusted himself in the mirror, putting on the singular artist glove, and flattening out the wrinkles in his suit. In all honesty, he just wanted to go to bed, and sleep away this angered feeling but he decided against it. Tomura needed to be professional.

He stepped out of the apartment, his hands in the pockets of the thick trench coat. A migraine beginning to settle into his head at the bright lights of the building. His eyes squinting, and blinking rapidly to adjust. He mindlessly strolled over to the elevator, and waited until the doors opened. Staring at his fancy black dress shoes, thinking to himself how stupid this all was. Soon the elevator arrived, and he stepped inside. It was empty, just how he preferred it, leaning his head back against the cold metal framing of the cart as it went upwards to the room he planned to have the meeting. 

Soon he arrived on the floor, stepping out of the metal box, and walking into the large room the meeting was meant to take place. As soon as he opened the door, all eyes were on him. He walked to take his place to speak, when he heard a familiar raspy voice make a comment towards him. Tomura, having absolutely no patience for his shit, decided to speak out. “Is there a problem, crispy?” he sneered, taking his seat on the couch, scooting himself in to get comfortable.

“Yeah, there is a big fucking problem. Not that you would give a shit though, fucking prick.” 

“Excuse me?!” Tomura snapped, sitting up to look at Dabi standing in front of him.

“You fucking heard me you nasty street rat. We have a fucking problem, and you’re lucky we’re inside because I wouldn’t hesitate to torch you alive right now.”

“What crawled up your ass and died?” he scoffed.

“Y/n. You fucking pushed her away. Y/n could be dead right now for all we know and it’s all your fault, because you just had to be selfish and fuck someone who is quite literally using you.” Dabi snapped, a little bit of blue shining from the insides of his closed fists. He was seething with rage, the tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

“She left on her own accord dumbass. If you’re so concerned with her, then go find her yourself. Stop talking about her. I don’t have time for this shit. I did nothing--”

“That’s the thing crusty, you did. You fucking cheated on her, pushed her away, made her cry, and treated her like shit. Do you know how many times I had to see that poor girl looking like she was barely hanging on by a thread?” He sneered, Tomura rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Don’t fucking act like you did nothing wrong. All of us tried to talk to you about cheating on her because we never saw Y/n and when we did, she looked fucking hollow. I don’t know how many times Twice or Spinner tried to talk to you about it, and you’d shut the door in their faces.”

“As I said, she left on her own accord! Quit talking about this--”

“He’s right, Tomura-kun. You need to take responsibility for this, she left because of you. She didn’t just abandon you, you pushed her to her limits and she left because she felt like she was no longer wanted by you. Why can’t you just take responsibility? I thought you were better than this Tomura-kun.” Toga stepped in, his words hit her hard. Toga was like your little sister. She loved you the most out of anyone in the league besides Twice, any time she could, she was right at your hip. “I-I... I miss her so much.” Toga said quietly under her breath, feeling herself start to tear up.

“Fuck this!” Tomura said loudly, slamming his fists down against the couch, and standing to his feet. 

“You don’t get to just fucking walk away from this!” Dabi screamed at him, which was really the only time they ever heard him get upset. Dabi marched straight at Tomura, launching his fist straight to his face. Tomura grabbed his wrist with his gloved hand. They began to restrain one another before Dabi started slowly inching flames his way, and Tomura’s glove began to slip off intentionally. They were both pulled away separately. “I’m gonna kick your ass for this soon enough you grimy fuck! That girl was the only person in the league I actually enjoyed! Fuck you! I’ll fucking kill you!” Tomura realized how much he was acting like an older brother to you, and how truly sad everyone looked. You were part of their family, and he had made you leave. The rest of the day was a blur to him, he spent it drinking too much sake, playing games, and at some point crying. 

The next days, he was angry and couldn’t process his emotions without some alcohol in his system. After a while, it hit him way too hard, and sleeping at night was nearly impossible. The next weeks all he did was mope around, and hate himself. He didn’t do anything like he used to anymore, besides stuff with PLF, he just took it upon himself to waste his days away locked on the couch or bed.

...

Tomura rubbed his face with four fingers, turning to his side to stare out of the large window, watching the way the moon shined into the room. He imagined your silhouette sitting at the window watching it to, like he often saw when he came into the room. This time instead of being annoyed at your presence, he wonders how he could fix things if you never left. Would things ever even be seen properly if you hadn’t left?

He whines out loud at the thought, wishing you were there to tell him it’s all okay, and comb through his hair with your soft fingers like you used to. He wants to sleep, but he can’t. 

“I miss you. I’m a fucking idiot.” he softly murmurs into the air. Looking over to the anthurium plant that was in its usual spot that you loved so much, you had that plant longer than you were with him. Most of the plants in the room were long dead by now, but the anthurium was thriving. It gave him the smallest bit of comfort and relief, that somewhere, you were alive and okay. He wondered if you’d ever come back, even just for the plants. He smiled at the thought of you again, and he reached to the floor to pull up one of your old tee-shirts you left behind. A simple black one, and it still reeked of your familiar, comforting scent. He nuzzled his face into it, absorbing the comfortable feeling it gave him. Imagining you just being here again, right back into his arms like he wished. Like everything was okay again. The thought gave him comfort, as he closed his heavy lidded crimson irises that begged for the release of slumber. To dream of a life different than the one he was faced with. One with you in it.

In another life, I guess.

^^^

The last month was a tough one for you, you left everything behind. No plan in mind but to get as far away from Tomura as you could. You managed to get through the run down city of Deika somewhat okay, even though there was rubble covering the entirety of the streets. You would’ve been left with cuts and bruises because of how hard it was to climb over certain spots, but luckily your quirk saved you from that. Your eyes were dry by the time you reached the end of the city, it dawned on you there that you were finally free from the pain you once felt. It didn’t completely go away, but the familiarity of your surroundings was unknown, and that gave your mind some clarity. There was no pain here, nothing around you reminded you of him. It was uncharted territory, a place to make your own. Sure it was just a mostly deserted pavement road surrounded by some trees, and houses that were more than likely empty. There was nothing left to do but go forward. You walked down the empty pavement road until the sun began to rise, and still no signs of any civilization. It was empty, lifeless, and dull, but you were happy. Free. From time to time you’d stop to fix your shoes, find somewhere to relieve yourself or drink some water. 

You were hoping to find a bus, or a motel before you got too tired. You stopped for a moment to check the small pocket watch you had with you in your bag to see that it was almost seven in the morning. But you kept on, and even though your legs began to feel like jello-- you soon were coming upon a new city. One that looked full, lively, and different. 

Instead of just hopping on a bus, you decided to find a motel to shower, unwind and sleep in a warm bed. As you stumbled upon one, paid for you room and stripped yourself of your clothes, you immediately crashed to the bed. Sleeping for far longer than you wanted to, but needed to.

For a while it was a lot of traveling, trying to come up on a plan, and your money was running low. You were free, but there was still a cost. There you were, eating some cheap, cold soba outside in the rain in Musutafu. It was midday, and there was a lot of people out on the streets going to and from work (or school, who knows), the streets were lined with cars. heroes were on patrol everywhere. It felt good to be back somewhere you were used to, even if there was nothing for you there to feel stable. The jacket you wore was fairly thick, but didn’t keep you the warmest. You sat underneath a small bus stop shivering while eating something that made your hands go numb. Some of those that passed you gave you dirty looks, eyeing you up and down, assuming you were just another dirty beggar enjoying a meal someone else paid for you. Internally you felt ashamed of yourself for having to live like this, but it was all for a purpose. Let them stare, what do they know?

Soon your noodles were lessening, and you had finished your soba. After you took the last few noodles, you grabbed all of the trash you had sitting around you, and walked over to a trash can outside of the large law firm you were outside of. Placing it inside, and walking away before you heard something behind you. “Y/n?” a voice called from behind you, not registering at first that it was familiar to you.

You turned your head to look at the person behind you. It was Giran, in the flesh. Standing there with an umbrella over his head, and cigarette kissing between his lips. “Giran?” He flopped his grey locks out of his forehead. He looked exactly how you remembered him, gapped tooth, nice looking clothes, beautiful gold rings decorating his fingers, and the little glasses of his you always tried to steal from him.

“Doll... what the hell are you doing all the way over here? What happened? Why do you...”

“Why do I look like this?” You raised your brow, he shamelessly nodded. “I’m homeless, that’s why.”

“Why? What happened for you to be homeless?”

“I... I left. Things happened, I just-- I needed to leave.” you stumbled over your words, not really wanting to tell him the full story.

“I have a feeling there’s a story there you’re not telling me.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it another time. Well, it was good seeing you, I’ll leave you to it--” 

He hastily cut you off, not letting you walk away from him. It was obvious to the both of you that you were running from something, and probably going to run off to another city alone again. “Wait!” you turned to him, raising your eyebrow to him. “I was just heading home, come with me. You shouldn’t be out here alone, doll.”

“I don’t want to impose... Really, I’ll be fine--”

“Y/n. You are homeless, I want you to be safe and sleep in a warm bed. You aren’t imposing sweetheart, I’ll take care of you. I ask nothing in return besides that you fill me in at some point about what happened. I don’t wanna hear any no’s or but’s coming from ya, you’re not sleeping out on the streets anymore. Let’s go.” he said shamelessly. Giran was always good with looking out for you, you came to him shortly before going to the league looking for work as a healer within a group. You found yourself intrigued by Shigaraki, and Giran of course being the gentleman he is, asked you if you were sure a million times. Telling you that no matter what happened, he would watch over you, and take care of you. He’d always cared. You hastily agreed, he patted your shoulder comfortingly.

You followed him closely back to his home, the umbrella doing little to prevent water from falling all over you. Soon you arrived to his beautiful home, and quickly settled in. He allowed you to take a shower, took all of your clothes to run through the washer, and gave you some of his spare clothes to wear in the mean time. The hot water soothed your sickly cold feeling skin, the musky mint smelling soap soothing your senses. For the first time in a while, you were relaxed.

After taking a shower, and setting up in his guest room, Giran came into the room. Eyeing you carefully as you sat in the white cotton sheets in his baggy undershirt and basketball shorts. Your wet hair sticking to the back of your head. “Hungry?” he asked. “I’m about to order takeout, what sounds good?”

“Curry, and taiyaki. Haven’t had either in so long.”

“An interesting combination, but I’ll see what I can do. Just relax for now, feel free to hangout in the living room. I got a TV and some books. Do whatever you feel, though.” he grinned at you. Patting the doorway before turning to walk away.

“Giran?” you called out to him.

“Yes?” he replied putting himself back into view.

“Thank you, for everything. I hope I can make it up to you one day.”

“Don’t worry about that now doll, all I care about is keepin’ you safe.” he smiled a genuine smile, which you returned. It was nice to be surrounded by so much hospitality and kindness. He stepped away from the door frame once again to let you do whatever it is you wanted to do. That night you both shared a meal, chatted, and went to bed. He let you take some books into the guest bedroom for you to read whenever you wanted. You felt at ease, like you were finally safe and grounded. You didn’t have to rely on Tomura for anything anymore, you had yourself. 

Even though deep down, you missed him. It had been ages since he last held you, kissed you, or even looked at you properly-- but you still missed it. All of it. You wondered if he was doing okay, if he was still with her, or if he even cared if you left. Honestly, you doubted it, he probably would’ve taken a couple days to even realize something was even slightly off. You didn’t regret your decision, but part of you would always miss him. 

Always, and forever, love him.

--

Over the next month or so, the routine was generally the same. Giran learned about what Tomura had done to you and why you were homeless. He decided to let you work with him in his office, you mostly would just organize his files, greet clients (usually ones he needed help convincing because you were the little office eye candy), cleaning around the office, and just overall being his assistant. He respected you, cared for you, and got you back to your feet-- without expecting a thing from you. The two of you were growing closer, and you were nothing but thankful to him. Sometimes the two of you would dress up super fancy to go to meetings for very high up clients who couldn’t be seen anywhere near where Giran worked out of safety for the two of them. It was a quite relaxing life, and you were growing used to everything. 

There you sat in your usual spot in Giran’s office, filing some paperwork that needed to be put away. Your office was a little room attached to Giran’s main office, small but comfortable. You’d spend most of the day in there until it was lunch time, or special cases where he needed your charm to make a client more comfortable. You were lost in the groove of the routine that often came with these tasks, listening to the music playing from your laptop speaker that was low enough to be able to hear anyone talking, and not be heard by anyone but you. From time to time stopping to play with the button on your blouse. Giran insisted that you dressed formally for the job, which consisted in business formal attire. Like right now, you were wearing a black button up blouse, dark maroon pencil skirt, tights, and black mary-jane high heeled shoes. A cute little choker chain on your neck to show some more class, and matching simple earrings. You looked formal enough to be doing the job, but also cute enough to just go out in the outfit.

After sitting, and filing for what seemed like hours, you decided to stretch. Getting up from your chair, and popping your limbs. Walking into Giran’s office cautiously. You didn’t hear anyone with him, but you never knew. You lightly knocked on the door frame to get his attention, his face was downwards as he read over some documents at his desk. “Hey bossman, how’s it goin’?” You asked him, leaning into the open frame. His head turned towards you away from the desk, a small smile present on his features.

“Good, good. Just readin’ over this real quick. You need me doll?”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, I just needed a bit of a break, and you also shouldn’t be stretching your neck out like that. You might hurt yourself.” raising your eyebrows playfully. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Well, it’s almost time for lunch. How about you go out and get us somethin’ to eat? You hungry yet?” he asked pulling a cigarette from his pocket, and placing it on his mouth. Grabbing his metal lighter from the desk to light it, taking a long drag before exhaling the smoke slowly out his nose.

“Hmm... maybe, I’d be okay with getting us something.” 

“One sec.” he replied, getting up from his seat to walk to his large trench coat that sat in its place on the coat rack in the corner next to the door. Digging in the pocket of it for something, which he soon found. He took a drag on the cancer stick once more before returning. “Here’s my card.”

“Thanks.” 

“Also, you look beautiful today Y/n.” he admitted, leaning against his desk in front of you.

“Are you implying I don’t look beautiful every other day?” you retorted, feeling your face warm up with bashfulness. 

“Never, doll. Just thought I’d make you smile.” he leaned towards you. Pulling his cigarettes from his lips to press a kiss to you forehead, your stomach fluttering wildly. Sometimes his little affirmations of affection made you go insane, you sometimes wished you had the confidence and stability to just grab his collar, and kiss him. Sure, he was older, but he was attractive. There was no doubt there, and the feelings were mutual. But you assumed neither of you wanted to ruin what was already going on. “Now get on, it might rain within the next hour. Wouldn’t want you to get wet.”

You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek in an assuring way before walking to the coat rack to grab your warm coat. Turning back to him before exiting the office, a soft smile present on your lips, muttering a quick good bye before opening the door. 

--

Soon you were back with take out bags on your hands, coming up upon the door of the office, knocking, before taking a step in. Happy to see Giran again, and eat your lunch. As your eyes registered upon the desk in front of you, you felt your heart drop into your stomach. Your hands quickly becoming sweaty as your gripped on to the plastic bags you held on to for dear life. There was that familiar light blue colored mop of hair sitting in the chair adjacent from Giran. He was wearing a black trench coat you hadn’t seen him wear since he exchanged his wardrobe for all of the suits, his back was to you, but even then you could still immediately tell it was him. His voice rang in the air, and died quietly as he recognized Giran’s distressed face. 

“Giran, what...” he asked, but let the words fall off his tongue, turning his head to look into your direction.

Without waiting, you dropped the bags of food on the ground, turning to open the office door. You quickly walked to the elevator, smashing the buttons on the wall to step in, just wanting to get away from him. You were scared to face him, you refused to, and luckily the buttons outside the elevator dinged, and it opened, you looked back to the office to see Tomura opening the door, catching your gaze. “Y/n! Wait! Please!” he called after you as you rushed inside the elevator, smashing the buttons to close. Your arms and legs trembling violently as you waited for the door to close on him.

“Stop! Y/n please let me-- hey stop!” he called after you, his foot steps and voice growing closer as the door began to close. When it almost came to a close, you saw his panicked red iris, he sounded so distressed that it made you almost want to open up the door, and let him in. But at the same time, you were trembling. You knew he worked with Giran, but you never expected to see him again. Giran tried to promise you that, but he also warned that things were unpredictable, and that he would do his best to keep you safe. You felt tears welt up in your eyes that you tried to blink away, knowing that he most likely was going to beat you to the lobby and confront you anyways.

You loved him.

But could you even forgive him?

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki fanfiction #tomura shigaraki x reader #giran x reader #giran x reader idk?? kinda?? #shigaraki angst #tomura shigaraki angst #angst #bnha au #bnha fan fiction #mha fan fiction #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki #tenko shimura #this is kind of trash i am so sorry #please forgive me i just wanted to post something

[sunflowerstache]

Lifespan

A/N: Hello! This is very different from most of my writing, not only because its an OC, but because the storyline is just something out of my comfort zone. But I really hope you enjoy it(: I got the inspiration from a ad I saw on Facebook a long time ago lmao but yeah, come say hi once you’ve read it and tell me what you think! It’s much appreciated! I love you all so very much! Also hugeeeee shoutout to @devil-in-bw-the-sheets​ for spending like six months reading and re-reading this every single time I rewrote it and changed things and encouraging me each time! And @emotionally-imbruised​ for beta reading it for me!💛💛

Word Count: 7.3k

“Doll?”

The fog that seemed to have settled over your mind instantly melted away upon hearing the barista’s voice, her sweet drawl grounding your focus back on her. She was an older woman, probably nearing her sixties based on the collection of grey hairs scattered throughout her small ponytail. But still so incredibly full of life. She had red glasses perched atop her nose - which perfectly completed the red polka dots covering her black dress - a beaded chain dangling from the end to the front of the frame, a pair of silver peace sign studs resided in her ears, and the anatomically correct symbol for caffeine dangled in necklace form on her chest.

“What? I’m sorry.”

“Just asked if you wanted the cream on that.” She smiled, thin lines spreading out and away from the sides of her eyes as her mouth widened. Upon glancing down quickly, you took notice of her clearly hand drawn name tag filled with swirling letters - different then when you stopped by earlier in the week when she had used stickers to spell out “Rita”.

“Oh, um yeah sure. Why not.”

“My husband always says that during weather like this, the calories don’t count. That they disappear with your shivering. Can I just have your name, dear?”

“Georgie. And your husband sounds like a very smart man.”

“Oh, he is.” A dreamy look took over Rita’s features, like just thinking about the man made her heart race. “Been together for forty-two years and he still teaches me new things.”

Your heart ached with each word; the fog slowly started to creep back through your mind while you watched her grin fondly. The hope and excitement for the future that was always so very clear in people’s eyes was what made it so hard not to explain everything you knew, every secret you held. However, as much as you wanted to urge everyone to live the life they’ve always wanted, you knew there was a natural balance to life, and opening your mouth would undoubtedly throw that balance off. So instead, you grinned and nodded your head.

“He sounds wonderful.”

“My best friend. Counting down the minutes until the end of my shift. We’re heading up to see our grandbabies for the week.” It was like she knew exactly what kind of secret you were keeping and made sure to hit you where it hurt each time she opened her mouth. As if her being impossibly sweet didn’t hurt enough.

“That sounds nice.” Digging around in your bag for your wallet made it much easier not to focus on the ticking time bomb in front of you. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh my! I’m sorry, I know I can’t talk forever if no one stops me.” her laugh was soft, inviting, one you would love to listen to while storytelling. “It’s four pounds.”

“You can keep the change.” You said when handing her some cash, but stopped yourself before you turned to walk away. Even if you weren’t ever going to outright explain anything to anyone, slipping in tiny, reassuring comments made you feel at least a little better before parting ways. “Have an amazing night with your family Rita.”

The coffee shop was relatively empty at the hours you stopped by. Other than the same group of men that were there every morning, chatting over the newspaper and a black coffee and a young nurse who was just getting off of her night shift, only customers on their way to work stopped by. But that was just how you preferred it. It was much easier to avoid running into people when the sun had barely just peeked over the morning horizon. You suppose the city isn’t exactly the best place to reside when you’re on a mission not to get close to anyone, but you’d much preferred the hustle and bustle of the city than the silence of the countryside. At least here you were able to escape your thoughts when they got to be too much, out there you were left to drown in the weights you held.

Rita was right when she said the weather would bring shivering. The moment you stepped through the café doors, all sense of warmth you previously had was sucked out of you, leaving the tips of your fingers tingling against the warm cup. You hadn’t ever really gotten to know the woman behind the counter, a few kind greetings every now and again, but she seemed to be someone who brought a lot of joy to those around her. And she always put extra chocolate curls on your drink. You made a mental note to send some flowers to her family within the coming days.

It was a car horn that initially took your attention off of the pavement, turning to look for who was in such a rush at 5:30am, but the hard torso smacking into her shoulder is what brought your attention back. Followed by the searing heat of your hot chocolate spilling down your front.

“Oh fuck!” you yelled, immediately dropping the paper cup and trying to pull your shirt away from your body to decrease the chance of a burn. There goes your chance to get home and drive right to work without any issue.

“Oh my god! Oh shit!” the man that had ran into you gasped, stopping in his tracks and grabbing onto your elbow to steady your wild movements.

Even though his words were quite loud on the empty street, his voice was still husky, almost like he wasn’t awake yet and still had some left over sleep in his throat. And when you turned to look at who had ruined your shirt, your own voice got stuck in your throat. He was tall, which made sense considering your head had bounced right off of his chest. He was wearing black basketball shorts with tall white socks and a light grey hoodie, which was pulled up to cover the dark grey beanie resting on his head. With one hand he was holding a water bottle with ease, while the other was frantically pulling the airpod from his ear. But apart from his sheer stature, you couldn’t ignore how beautiful this man was. How even the worry lines littering his face were perfectly accenting his features. Or how the green of his eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the Whole Foods you had been stopped in front of.

“I’m so sorry! Shit are you okay?” he quickly asked, shaking his head before you could even respond. “Obviously not, that was probably hot. Oh god I’m so sorry!”

Finally getting your bearings back, you couldn’t help but nod. “Yeah it was pretty hot.”

“Shit, I don’t even know how that happened. I must’ve taken my eyes off the pavement for one second. I’m so sorry.”

“So you’ve said.” You chuckled, bending down to pick up your now empty cup at your feet and tossing it in the bin by your side. “Don’t worry about it. Really it’s fine.”

“It’s not, I’ve ruined your shirt.” If the disappointment in his voice wasn’t evident enough, the small pout on his lips definitely was. He looked absolutely distraught at the sight of what he’d done. “Let me at least get you a new drink. It’s the least I could do.”

“Oh, um, that’s alright.” You’d always known it was rude to speak to someone and not give them eye contact, it was something your father had drilled into you as a child, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Looking someone in the eyes meant seeing above their head, and that was an area you actively tried to avoid looking. But there was something about him that drew you in, and you couldn’t help glancing up at him quickly again. “I actually have to be getting to work. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I feel terrible.”

“Positive. Have a good morning.” Your touch was soft on his arm as you made your way past him, leaving the mystery man standing on the pavement staring as you walked towards your flat.

You didn’t mean to be so short with him, but it’s just how you’d grown accustomed to living life. It was the easiest way you found not to get close to many people, which meant less hurt in the end. And you’d been around enough hurt in your short twenty three years. It may be a lonely life, but you were happy with your cat, comically named Lucifer, and living a simple life. Sure, there were times you wished you could live the carefree life everyone around you got to experience, your only issues being stresses of work or relationship drama, but that wasn’t who you were. After living the life you did, there’d be no way you could live a normal life.

“Don’t give me that look, Luci.” you grumbled when walking through your front door, your cat perched on the dining table just watching as you moved through the living room, ripping your destroyed shirt from your body. “This wasn’t my fault.”

You’re sure that you looked like a crazy person if anyone was watching on, talking to your cat while walking around your flat in nothing but a pair of black slacks and a bra. But you didn’t care, because this was your normal. You ranted to her after a long day at work or a particularly draining day, and she always sat and listened. Mostly because she was a cat.

“He just ran right into me, like he literally couldn’t see me. How odd, right?” you stopped briefly while searching your closet for a new shirt. “God Luci, he was cute though. So cute. And tall.”

Just because you secluded yourself in the world didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy taking a peak at what it had to offer. It was the forming relationships that put you off, not because there was a level of uncertainty - nothing was uncertain to you - but because you always knew the timeline of said relationships. It was always the same. So why put yourself through it? But also, why not? What if that was just what you needed to make such a painful existence a little more bearable?

“I didn’t even get his name. Maybe I’ll see him around the cafe sometime.” you hummed, throwing the new peach colored blouse over your head and peeking your face out of the hole. “No. No Georgie, don’t go there. Who are we kidding, it’s not like anything could ever happen anyway.”

Lucifer meows loudly at your comment., making you turn around to glare at her. Obviously she didn’t know what was actually going on, but it was nice to entertain the idea of someone listening to your problems and helping you talk them out. You were a secluded young woman, not crazy.

“What? Like I’m wrong? It’s not something I’d be able to keep from a boyfriend forever. And It’s not like I’d be able to just flat out tell them.”

She meowed again, jumping off the table and prancing her way to your feet, rubbing her side against your ankles.

“What would I even say? Hey, I was born with this thing where I can see a floating clock above everyone’s head that literally counts down to the day you die? Yeah because that won’t get me sent to the looney bin.”

From the start of time, there has always been a beginning and an end to everything. No matter if it was an Oscar award winning film, delicate relationships, or even life itself, it all ended. People come, and they go, but the world continues on; taking care of those who stay to see another day. And on a daily basis, the idea of the end rarely floats through anyone’s mind. Except for you.

For you, it was impossible not to think about when it was quite literally staring you in the face. For as long as you could remember, you walked through life with a different outlook on the end than most other people.It wasn’t because you had some near death experience, but due to a gift. Or at least what some people in the world would consider a gift, because in no way would you call being able to see the exact day someone is going to die, a gift.

It was something that over the years you had grown to ignore, trying not to look too far away from people’s eyes and never thinking too hard about the ticking numbers.They weren’t obnoxious or flashy signs hanging above everyone’s heads - like you had seen some films try and depict - but instead, just a simple, faint, white clock just above the tops of everyone’s head, showing each individual’s lifespan. No matter how many hours you sat down and tried to rationalize why you were able to see this, there was never any answer. No one else in your family carried the burden, and because of that, you never mentioned it to anyone in fear of sounding crazy. But you knew you weren’t crazy, not when you prayed night after night for those numbers to disappear or for someone’s clock to be wrong, only to be let down.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you finally saw your favorite florist Don after he spent some time away, and his clock suddenly read 3 years, 20 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes, and 6 seconds instead of the 27 years you had grown used to seeing on him every day before he left. It didn’t take long for you to find out he was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer and treatments had stopped working.

You knew you weren’t crazy when you got to watch Kim’s clock - the very sweet receptionist at your job - begin to slow down the more she adjusted to a healthy lifestyle of eating right and taking care of her body. What was once a ticking time of a measly 21 years adjusted what would be a long and fulfilled 59 years more.

And you knew you weren’t crazy when at only seventeen years old, you watched as your best friend’s clock suddenly dwindled down to zero’s across the board like a slot machine while laying on the bathroom floor of a house party. The drugs in her system being too much for her young body to handle and completely consuming the 72 years she once had left.

You weren’t crazy, you just carried a burden no one should ever have. And because of it, you made sure not to get close to anyone in fear of watching yet another clock strike zero.

So you moved on with your life, forgetting all about the tall man who had spilled your drink and run into your mind, making you think things you hadn’t in so long, and instead, focused solely on getting through your days at work and getting back home. It was an easy routine, one you hadn’t strayed from much since moving to the city six years ago; wake up, feed Luci, get coffee, go to work, go home, shower, watch tv, go to bed. And as happy as you were that life wasn’t so painful these days, boring would be the only word good enough to describe your life.

Until your neighbors moved in.

You were standing in the kitchen, lifting the collar up to your mouth to try and quickly lick the hot sauce off the old, ratty Elton John Tour shirt you were wearing before it left a stain, wearing nothing else but some shorts, a nice pair of cheetah print slippers to cover your chilly toes, and one of the two hundred paper face masks you’d ordered off of Amazon in an attempt to clear your skin, when the loud bang on your front door startled you. Not only did your family not live in town, but your neighbors knew that you weren’t a people person. Ever since you made that very clear to them upon moving in, they hadn’t tried to contact you, so you just assumed whoever it was had gotten the wrong flat number.

But the knocking persisted.

Lucifer’s head had picked up from her lap upon hearing the first knock, now watching as you made our way closer to the front door. “What do I do?” but the only response you received was her head tilting to the right, like she was saying ‘Really? Answer it you idiot.’

You wanted to be angry, you really did, because you were nearly ready to be completely settled in for the night after a terribly long day and you just wanted to watch some bad tv with Luci, but the moment you twisted the door knob and peered into the hallway, any anger you had felt, completely washed away.

“Hey! Sorry, my mates and I-” he abruptly stopped mid sentence once his eyes landed on you, like his train of thought literally face planted into a brick wall. A look of realization flashed across his face quickly, and in a matter of milliseconds, what was once stress turned into a look of excitement. “Hey! It’s you!” he smiled.

“It’s me.” something about him made it very difficult for you not to mirror his smile, but that desire was overpowered by the confusion coursing through your mind.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again! I still feel terrible about what happened, are you sure you were alright? You didn’t burn yourself, did you?” The man was incredible at changing his emotions at the drop of a dime, for now his eyes were laced with concern where excitement had just lived. “Or I guess I should say I didn’t burn you, did I?”

He was much more put together this time, the workout attire you had last seen him in was traded in for a pair of light red slacks that looked to be a crushed velvet material paired with a plain white t-shirt and a pair of black vans. He looked like any university boy you’d see walking the streets, but at the same time, like nothing you had ever seen before. Something about him standing in your doorway brought you a sense of calm, like just his presence was enough to wash away the stresses of your day.

“I mean I can’t say that it felt particularly good, but I didn’t get burned, no.”

“Oh good. That’s good.” he nodded, and you made the mistake of following his hand with your eyes as he lifted it up to his curls to fix the glasses perched on his head. You didn’t want to know, didn’t want to see what kind of fate the universe had in store for him because the peace he had brought to you in the few moments he’d been standing there felt better than anything had in the past few years. But you were never that lucky.

Your eyes quickly casted back down, looking back at the white of his shirt while you cleared your throat. “Did you need something….” you dragged out the end of the word to indicate that you didn’t know what to call him since he hadn’t bothered to mention his name.

“Oh, right. ‘M Harry.”

“Georgie.

“Hello Georgie.” if possible, the grin on his face doubled in size, causing two dimples to appear at the corners and the air in your chest to feel as though it was tightening.

The two of you stood in your doorway without saying anything for another moment before you spoke up; “So did you need something or…”

“Fuck, yeah.” his voice was breathy when he responded, standing up straighter, “My mates and I just saw you come home and we’re in desperate need of a needle and thread. You’ve got one?”

It only took a second for him to realize his words and that surprised look from when you first opened the door was back. His eyes widened and his hands raised in front of him as a way to stop you before you could respond.

“Not in a creepy way! We weren’t like watching you or summat, swear! My mates Niall and Louis just moved in across the hall.” using his thumb he pointed to the open door across the hall where you could see two other guys watching yours and Harry’s interaction. Upon realizing they were spotted, they raised their hands in a small wave. “We heard you come in. Not that we were actively listening! Just - ‘m sorry. I swear we aren’t creeps.”

“Good. Thought I’d have to sic my monster of a dog on you.” you replied, turning to dig through the small table in what could barely be considered an entryway. The table had started out as a place to keep your keys and mail, but like most did, quickly turned into a junk drawer. An abyss to put any and everything only to never see it again.

Harry’s eyes frantically looked behind you like some crazy monster was about to lunge at him for bothering you at night, even going as far as taking a small step back when the door opened a bit wider while you were looking for the tool. You laughed when glancing up quickly at the movement. It was obvious he was panicking at the new information of potentially getting mauled by a massive dog while simply asking for thread. So you put him out of his misery.

“There’s no dog. I’m just joking…”

As if on cue, Lucifer waltzed up to see what was going on at the front door, her small body weaving between your legs to get a nice scratch while checking out the never before seen man. “Oh! A cat! I love cats!”

“Yeah she’s pretty great.” you nodded, closing the drawer and holding your hand out to Harry. “Here you go. Um, not sure what colour you need so you can just take the whole bag.”

“You’re a lifesaver, thank you! Niall has a date in ten minutes and he’s split his only good pair of trousers.” he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the boys inside the other flat, trying to seem like they weren’t listening to the conversation, but very obviously doing just that. “Have to sew him in like ‘m some sort of tailor.” he chuckled, turning back to face you.

“Sounds like an exciting night.”

“Oh riveting. I would ask if you’d like to join but you look very busy-” the corners of his lips were trying hard not to curl upwards with the light sarcasm, wobbling a bit as he continued speaking, “-so I wouldn’t want to interrupt anymore than I already have. I’m sure I’ll see you again, I practically live with these two idiots.”

“‘M sure I will.” Luci hadn’t left your side since joining you at the door, instead, she began meowing quite loudly, so you bent down to scoop her into your arms.

You liked Harry, not only because he was a very obviously a good looking man, but because he seemed to pick up on your social cues fairly quickly. He didn’t linger and try to get as much out of you as possible or make the fact that you clearly didn’t have much interest in talking uncomfortable. And it was the first time in a long time that you felt content being around someone. Not fearing what the future brought.

Harry halted his movements halfway between flats and spun back around quickly. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you press kisses to Lucifer’s head while standing in the doorway. Something you gathered from the very brief times you’d shared an encounter was that Harry was not very good at hiding his emotions. It was almost like he had no control of his mouth, because you could see him try to stop the smile from spreading, but it was no use. The dimples popped out in full force.

“I still owe you for that coffee.”

“Oh, um not a coffee.”  you tried not to be loud enough for him to hear, noting that the fact that it wasn’t a coffee was not really that important, but he heard you anyway.

“Pardon?”

“Just um, it wasn’t a coffee. More of a hot chocolate drinker actually.”

He didn’t respond right away, instead just continued watching you with fond eyes and a now very prominent smile. You felt as though he could sense how out of touch with relationships you had begun to get over the years. What other explanation could he have for being so soft with someone he had just met and barely even known

“Right, well keep your schedule open so I can take you out for that replacement cocoa.”

Your door swiftly closed the second he turned back around, not leaving any extra seconds for him to turn around and look at you again. And the second she heard the click of the lock, Luci leaped out of your arms and made her way over to the sofa, meowing her entire journey.

“Yes that was him.” another meow. “I told you he was cute, and I also told you nothing would be happening there.”

Harry wasn’t lying when he said you’d be seeing him again. It seemed as though every day when you got back to your flat, he was there. Sometimes on his way out, other times just standing outside the door waiting for the other boys. And despite how at peace being around Harry had made you feel that day he came knocking at your door, you never put in much more effort than a “hello” here and there. He and the others had tried quite a few times to get you to join them on their night out, but each time you came up with a different excuse. Even if they were comforting, what was the point in forming that friendship when you knew you’d just isolate yourself again eventually. You had made it this long without getting too close to anyone else, and you weren’t going to start just because two attractive lads moved in across the hall who happened to have a very fit, very inviting, friend.

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that you actually had a full conversation with Harry again.

Typically you tried not to go to the coffee shop by your flat any later than lunchtime because it just got too busy. There were too many people for you to fully avoid them all and seeing too many clocks dampened your mood significantly. But you had already had a shitty morning and needed something to give you a boost.

The place had felt very melancholy since Rita’s unfortunate passing last month, she’d passed peacefully in her sleep while spending time with her family. You’d sent the family flowers as remembered, and also made sure to drop a few bills in the jar on the counter each time you’d been in the shop. Other employees were setting up a fund for Rita’s family since she was such a loved member of the community just with the joy she brought from behind the counter.

“Just a large hot chocolate for me, please.”

“For here or take away?”

“Take away please.”

“Actually she’ll have that for here, please.” a familiar voice behind you spoke up as you were digging through your bag for your wallet. You could see him out of the corner of your eye move from his spot behind you, to gradually standing next to you, looking directly at the barista behind the counter.

“Um..” you felt bad for the young kid, he couldn’t be any older than eighteen and all he wanted to do was get to work and get out. But here you were making his day more stressful than it needed to be. “So… for here then?”

“Harry I -”

“Come on Georgie. Please.” never in your life had you seen a grown man bat his eyelashes, but here he was, trying to lure you in with his breathtaking green eyes.

“Fine.” your voice came out soft and you rolled your eyes, but on the inside you felt giddy, like what you remember life to feel like before you started isolating yourself. “Um, sorry. I’ll have it for here I suppose.”

“Do you want the cream?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes, I’ll have a -” Harry’s profile was something you could get lost in. How the tip of his nose seemed to bounce with every word he said, how it looked as if his lips were made to form the words falling from between them, or how no matter how many times he tried to get it to stay back, one of his curls would continue to break loose from the rest and fall past his forehead. From what little you’ve seen of it, Harry had a great sense of fashion. Comfortable. A brown teddy bear jumper was covering his upper body, sleeves long enough to gather just past his hands and torso short enough that you could see his white shirt peeking out from underneath, ripped black jeans, a pair of black chelsea boots, and  those same tortoise shell glasses perched on his nose completed his look.  

“Ready?”

“Huh?”

“You ready? ‘ve got a table back by the door.”

The two of you made your move to walk back towards the front of the shop, but you halted in your tracks when you saw that yes, he in fact did have a table waiting for him, but it was also being inhabited by the two boys you had seen behind him when he came to ask for thread. Neal and Liam? And a girl was sitting between the two as they chatted amongst themselves.

“Harry I don’t -”

“Come on, I promise we don’t bite.” Apparently you still didn’t look convinced because he leaned down to be at your eye level and stuck his lip out in a pout. “One drink. Please? I owe you remember?”

“Yes and you’ve already bought me a new one, thank you by the way, so you don’t owe me anything else.”

“I know.” the apples of his cheeks began getting pinker the longer he stared at you, “But I’d very much like to spend some time with you.”

Just like he did when he knocked on your door, his eyes widened and immediately seemed to want to backtrack what he had said. “Wait no, not in that way. In like a ‘hey I think you’re cute -’ no fuck that’s not -”

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“One drink.”

The relief was instant on his features, his shoulders sagging and eyebrows un-furrowing at your words. “Good. Afraid my mates were going to start thinking I made you up.”

“I live across the hall, they’ve seen me.”

“Well yeah, but I talk about you so much they thi- I - fuck.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell from between your lips. You may not have had many friendships or relationships of any kind, but you did know excessive rattling wasn't generally how people spoke to one another.  “You babble a lot.”

“Only when ‘m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

Harry wasted no time in his response, taking a quick glance over to you. “Because I finally get to spend time with the pretty girl across the hall.”

The heat rushing to your cheeks had become something of a common occurrence when speaking with Harry. It wasn’t obvious if he knew what he was doing or not, but you couldn’t imagine someone like Harry not knowing how to flirt. Thankfully, however, someone from the table spoke up before you could dwell on his comment longer than necessary.

“Finally!” the man sitting at the end of the booth spoke. He was dressed very similar to Harry in color - a tan quilted shirt was hidden beneath a cream colored teddy bear jacket, and pleated brown trousers. The light facial hair stubbled along his cheeks made him look slightly older than Harry, but his complete baby face counteracted that.

Harry looked at you briefly, raising his eyebrows with a ‘what did I tell you?’ kind of look as he bent down to slide into the booth next to the other man. His style was much different than the other two, more streetwear. He was wearing black trackies and an old gray band tee under a denim jacket, baseball hat and the very apparent smell of cigarettes finishing off the outfit. Another difference with him was that he had a girl with him. What you assumed to be his girlfriend by the way her head was resting on his shoulder and his hand fell on her knee. She was beautiful, long brown hair fell loose around her shoulders, only kept back by the fragile looking sunnies that rested at the top of her head. She was wearing a simple white top and a pair of white,black, and brown plaid trousers, both of which were overshadowed by the beautiful black Balenciaga jacket hanging off of her shoulders.

“Was starting to think you’d been lying about actually knowing her, Haz.” the one closest to Harry spoke, earning a light slap to his chest from the girl on his shoulder.

Harry disregarded all of their antics and turned to pat the seat next to him, indicating he wanted you to sit down, and he gave you a reassuring nod when you nibbled your lower lip between your teeth.

It was subtle acts like Harry letting you sit on the outside of the booth so you could make a quick getaway if needed that reminded you how easily he seemed to pick up on your social cues - even if you didn’t realize you did them. It made your chest tickle that even just from the two substantial conversations you’d had with him, Harry picked up on things you did.

“Piss off.” Harry chuckled, reminding you a lot of friendships you’d seen on tv where they all take the piss but it was easy to see that they all cared for one another. It was something you’d always been envious of while watching the world from the sidelines. “Georgie, this is Niall, Louis, and Louis’ girlfriend Eleanor. Everyone, this is Georgie.”

You were met with a chorus of hellos and you would’ve loved to just jump right into their conversation about the best places to get guacamole, just so that they knew you weren’t intentionally being rude to them. But not only were you not good at this conversation thing, but you also were still on edge about forming any sort of connection with these people. Apparently you should get used to Harry and his all knowing mind, because before you could excuse yourself from the awkwardness, he spoke up.

“So, how long have you lived in the building?”

Unprepared for the question, you froze for a second. “Oh, um going on six years now.”

“Impossible! What are you, like twenty? No way you’ve lived there that long!” Eleanor asked, her head no longer on Louis’ shoulder, instead she was sitting upright and looking directly at you. Of course, over the span of the years, you had gotten quite good at looking at people without really paying any attention to what was only visible to you above their heads, but it still made you uneasy. The best solution was just not to look at them at all. But these people, people who had no idea who you were a mere ten minutes ago yet were now welcoming you into their lives, made you want to work on avoiding the numbers. Because this was the most alive you’d felt in years.

“‘M twenty three. Be twenty four next Friday.”

“No shit! Alright well I’m coming over so you can teach me your skincare routine because you look flawless.” she gleamed, leaning forward on the table to jot down her phone number on one of the many spare napkins littering the tabletop.

“As much as I love a good skincare routine, let’s not skip over the more important part of that sentence. Your birthday is next week?” Harry asked, gently shoving his shoulder against yours and offering a kind smile when you glanced up at him.

“Oh, it’s not a big deal. I haven’t really celebrated my birthday since I turned like eleven.” your parents used to throw you a party every year while growing up, a lavish over the top kind of party where all of your classmates were invited and family you had never even heard of pinched your cheeks. But as time went on and you didn’t give up your ‘ridiculous fantasy’ as your mother so kindly put it, they began to stop throwing the party. Now, you were lucky if they sent you a card on the day. Plus, celebrating your birthday alone is kind of a downer.

“You haven’t celebrated your birthday in over a decade?” Niall’s mouth hung open like that was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.

“Nope.”

“Well that just won’t do.” you may not know very much about the people seated around you, but the smirk on Louis’ face told you everything you needed to know. “We’re having a party.”

“Um, thank you. Really. But parties aren’t really my thing. Plus I’m working that day so…”

“Oh, where do you work?” Harry asked, thoroughly interested in where you spend most of your days.

“Good Samaritan.”

“The nursing home down on Adams?”

“That’s the one. I’m a caregiver.” when you first applied for the position, you thought you were crazy. For someone who doesn’t want to get close to anyone in fear of their untimely demise, you definitely went for a job exactly the opposite. But that was the appeal to you. Sure, it was terribly sad to see one of your patients pass, but in the time leading up to it, you knew exactly who needed a little extra love. It was nice to be able to remind their loved ones to visit while making routine phone calls, and to do things to make them smile in what only you knew were their last days. It was the only time you thought what you were born with was some kind of gift. The tiniest most unwelcomed gift.

“That’s wonderful.” Harry’s voice was gently next to you, like he was hanging on to every short word that you said.

“Well, we’ll just have a party once you’re done with work.” Louis shrugged, but held his hands up when you opened your mouth to remind him you didn’t want anything. “Not a party, a friendly get together with friendly neighbors and alcohol.”

That day in the cafe was the beginning to a new start for you.

Obviously Lucifer had to hear about everything that happened that afternoon, but she was there to experience it first hand when Eleanor came knocking on your door the following day. She got to watch as you bent over in genuine laughter at your shared banter. She watched from the kitchen counter as Harry came by with food one night, saying he just happened to order extra lo mein and heard you come home. And as the two of you sat in the living room watching Big Brother, talking about everything from your favorite color to why he majored in physical therapy in university. Luci got to watch you break out of the shell you’d worked so hard on forming around you, and even though you knew she couldn’t understand what was happening, you liked to think her frequent meows were those of encouragement.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The yells came from all corners of the room when you walked into Louis’s flat the following Friday, making your eyes widen and shoulders straighten. As much progress as you’d been making in your life, with branching out and slowly losing your fear of connection, it would take more than a week to crack down those barriers you’d built so high for so long.

“Thank you.” you laughed, putting down the bottle of wine you’d brought just in time for everyone to start surrounding you in hugs.

“Happy Birthday, love.” Harry’s voice was soothing in your ear, like a sense of relief in the overstimulation the other three had given you. You didn’t regret their company like you would have only a month ago, instead you welcomed the foriegn feelings. But it was still nice to have a moment of calm to fully process everything.

“Thank you Harry.”

“I hope it’s not too much. I told them to cool it on the balloons and confetti - especially since we all know I’ll be the one to pick it up in the morning.” he laughed, offering you a glass of wine that everyone else seemed to already be enjoying.

“No, no, it’s great. A nice segway from doing nothing every year.”

“Still can’t believe you haven’t celebrated your birthday in so long! That’s a day that should be celebrated by everyone!”that same look you’d grown to quite enjoy flashed over his features, his momentary distress as he realized he said something he wasn’t planning on sharing. But the look disappeared when he saw your knowing smile. “Don’t start.”

As promised, there was no party, per say. Everyone was just scattered around Louis’ living room telling stories about absolutely nothing that had everyone in stitches. It was the kind of party you’d always been envious of, one where mates could hang out and lose themselves in the company of each other. It was the first time you didn’t have a single thought about impending doom for more than an hour, a feit you would be sure not to forget.

Niall was laid out on the floor under the windows, a half empty bottle of rum in his hand and the other rested on his stomach, occasionally itching an invisible nuisance. Louis was seated in the arm chair directly across from Niall, a very buzzed Eleanor draped across his lap and the more the night went on, the less chances you had of seeing their faces separated. And Harry was seated next to you on the sofa, his arm hung on the back of the cushion in such a way that everyone so often you would feel the very tips of his fingers skim the exposed skin on your shoulder.

You wished you could freeze this moment in time, because a photograph or video would never do it justice. It was almost as if you were watching the night play out in front of you like a movie, not really in your body but watching from afar. Watching as the girl who hid herself from the world began to hatch, slowly cracking the hard exterior surrounding her. And you would do anything to bottle the feeling of pride that swelled in your chest knowing you had achieved that.

“Literally right in the face mate. No joke.” Niall cackled, his laugh a contrast in that moment; escaping his mouth loudly but carrying throughout the room softly. Taking off like a leaf blowing through the fall breeze.

“Georgie.” your name slipped from between Harry’s lips beautifully, like he was created for the sole purpose of saying your name over and over again; forever. “Alright?”

And sitting in the living room of Louis’ flat, listening to your friends’ wine induced giggles, looking at the most captivating pair of green eyes and curly hair that only whatever magical being that was above could’ve created, you were alright. You were so alright that the minuscule ticks of the clocks of your new and only friends, ticks you tried so hard to avoid paying attention to, almost seemed to disappear completely. Almost.

71 years, 2 months, 10 days, 3 hours, 16 minutes, 55 seconds. 68 years, 11 months, 3 days, 19 hours, 43 minutes, 2 seconds. 68 years, 7 months, 21 days, 1 hour, 58 minutes, 33 seconds. 62 years, 8 months, 9 days, 11 hours, 12 minutes, 2 seconds. 2 years, 1 month, 30 days, 23 hours, 34 minutes, 56 seconds.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you

[vodkaxtonic]

Soft Spot •Eric Coulter x Reader•

Summary: Eric was not close with anyone and practically hated everyone, however, he never expected to have a soft spot for the Amity transfer.

Words: 2k

 “Where the hell is Y/N?” Eric growled annoyed as he looked around the meeting room, Four beside him and Max sitting in front of him. She was already 20 minutes late and it pissed Eric off, not only because he’d have to stay longer because of her but also because he’d have to postpone his hookup which he really looked forward to. Max looked more than mad that Y/N wasn’t showing up, and Four was praying that she wouldn’t get in a lot of trouble for being late. “I’m gonna go look for her.” Eric stood up, the chair making a screeching sound across the cement ground before he stomped out of the room, leaving Four and Max, who just shrugged at each other.

 Eric’s heavy footsteps echoed through the empty halls as he walked to the apartment complex of their fraction. By now everyone was either out on patrol or working out, so he knew as soon as he heard the loud music ringing through the hallways that it couldn’t be anyone else but Y/N. With a deep sigh he came to a halt in front of her door, Queen’s song “Killer Queen” blasting through the metallic door. His fist pounded heavily against the door, but there was nothing on the other side. No volume turned down, or the voice that sang along stopping. Another annoyed groan escaped his mouth before he turned the doorknob, and to his surprise the door was open.

 Eric couldn’t contain his smile as he saw the scenery in front of him. There was Y/n, dressed in nothing more than an oversized knitted brown sweater, which she probably smuggled in here since anything else than black wasn’t really allowed, a sizzling pan in her hand as she sang and danced, flipping the pancake. His eyes roamed over the apartment quickly and he realized that at heart she was still Amity. Her apartment wasn’t as metallic and bland as all the others here, it was comfortable, plants decorating shelves and the wooden table. Her bed definitely seemed a lot more comfortable than his metallic one with the thin mattress, hers was made out of wood and a big mattress placed on top of it.

 After Eric decided he had analyzed her apartment and her enough, he sighed as he entered the apartment and walked over the vinyl player, Y/N not even noticing him since she had her back turned to him. A loud shriek escaped Y/N’s mouth as the music was turned off, she turned around and dropped the pan before jumping away from the hot oil that was about to cover her bare legs. “What the hell, Eric!” She said loudly in shock as she picked up the pan, putting it on the metal counter. “That’s a nice greeting.” He smirked as he walked over to her as he crossed his arms over his chest. “What is it?” She asked, cursing Eric in her mind since she had to clean the oil up. “We have a meeting and you’re 30 minutes late.” He stated, almost emotionless as he looked at the girl, unconsciously letting his eyes roam over the soft curve of her waist that the hoodie created. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” She asked, panic making itself present in her voice as she rushed to her closet, getting out her normal clothes. “It was spontaneous, and we sent you a message.” Eric explained as he turned around, giving her privacy while she changed, which was unusual for him. “I told you the charger of the tablet isn’t working, Eric! You said you’d take care of it!” She whined as she jumped to get the tight pants on. “Oh.” Eric said, realizing that he indeed had said he’d take care of that. “Yeah, oh!” She answered sarcastically as she jumped to put her boots on, almost falling over in the process. “I didn’t even have breakfast yet!” She pouted as she dashed past Eric, taking one of the pancakes from the previous ones she had made. “Enjoy yourself.” She sighed at Eric’s questioning look, before a smile covered his face as he took a pancake, following the panicked girl out of her apartment.

 “He’s gonna tear me apart.” Y/N muttered as she walked next to Eric, their step in sync as he looked down at her. “He won’t.” He muttered as he chewed on the last bite of his pancake. “You know how much Max hates when I’m late and since I’m a newbie he’ll shred me—“ “He won’t. I’ll make sure of that.” Eric reassured her as they stopped in front of the door. Y/N took a deep breath before turning the doorknob, her heart racing as Max and Four turned to the door. “Good that you decided to join us too, Y/N.” Max said, his voice filled with annoyance and anger, making Y/N unconsciously shrink a bit to make herself smaller. She feared Max, no doubt. “I’m sorry—” “You can’t just make your own rules here, Y/N. This is not how it works.” Y/N flinched as Max’s fist collided with the table, his voice as cold as ice, sending shivers down her spine. She took a step back, unwillingly, bumping into Eric who has been observing the scenery that unfolded itself in front of him. “Since you’ve decided that the rules don’t apply to you, you won’t help Four and Eric to train the initiates, nor will you workout yourself or eat with everyone else for the next four days.” “You’re putting me on house arrest?” She gaped at Max. Was he even allowed to do that? “You can call it that, if I see you outside, I’ll make sure you’re fractionless.” “But it’s my fault that she was late.” Eric butted in, stepping in front of Y/N in a rather defensive matter. “I don’t give one fuck. My decision still stands.”

 Eric frowned as they left the meeting room, seeing Y/N walk back to down the hall without another word. “That was unnecessary of Max, she was never late once.” Four sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes following her silhouette until she disappeared. “I don’t think he likes her very much.” Eric answered before turning to Four. “Let’s go train the initiates.” He sighed as he pulled out his phone, texting his hookup that he wouldn’t make it today.

 Guilt was gnawing at Eric for the rest of the day. He shouldn’t feel guilty, but he was. He should’ve said at the beginning that it was his fault and not hers and maybe she wouldn’t have been put on house arrest. With a sigh he looked at the clock in his apartment, reading it was already 5pm and today everyone was done with training. He groaned as he stood up, there was only one way to make his guilt fade at least a bit.

 Once again, he stood in front of her door, his black backpack swung over his shoulder as he took a deep breath. He couldn’t explain what he was doing right now, why he cared so much that he’d come over with alcohol and pastry to try to cheer her up. Eric knew that she was upset. Y/N was always bubbly and fun to be around but after Max’s decision she was quiet, and he couldn’t help but notice the frown that covered her face for the rest of the meeting. With another sigh he knocked three times, nervously shifting his weight as he waited for her to open the door. His eyebrows furrowed as silence was filling the air, no steps towards the door, no music, nothing. His hand found its way to the doorknob, turning it. If she wasn’t here, she’d be in a hell lot of trouble.

 “You need to start locking your doors.” Eric said as he opened the dark apartment, seeing Y/N’s head peek out of the blanket before disappearing again. “Go away.” She muttered. Y/N had to admit, she was angry at Eric. It may seem silly, but this was the second time he said he would fix something and he once again he didn’t hold his promise. Now she was the one that was bound to her apartment for the next days. “No.” He answered, closing the door behind him as he took off his shoes before walking over to the windows, pulling the blinds open. “Eric!” She whined, hiding under her blanket once again. “Stop moping around, get out of bed.” Eric sighed as he crossed his arms, standing beside her bed and eyeing her. “No.” “Do it or I’ll make you.” Eric’s voice was stern and normally she’d listen, not only because he was scary as hell but also because they were somewhat friends and she didn’t want to upset him, but right now she was mad and she didn’t care. “No.” A loud whine escaped her mouth as Eric pulled the blanket off her and a shriek as he picked her up as if she were as light as air. With a sigh he sat her down onto the metal counters in her kitchen, making her pout and cross her arms over her chest. Only now he realized that she had changed back into her hoodie. “What’s wrong?” Eric sighed, placing his hands beside her legs as he leaned in a bit, making Y/N gulp. “I’m just annoyed about Max.” She muttered as she bit her nails, and in that moment, Eric knew exactly that Y/n was lying. “There’s more. Talk to me, Y/N.” His face softened a bit, his eyebrows raised as his eyes roamed over her face before finding their way back to hers. Y/N sighed defeated at his intense stare. He wouldn’t let it go and she knew it. “It just makes me mad that you said you’d fix something for the second time and once again didn’t do anything until it was too late.” She admitted, her voice quiet as her gaze shifted away from him to her hands. “I’m sorry.” Eric sighed, and he knew she had all reason to be mad at him. “But I’m trying to make it up!” He smiled, making Y/N look at him and furrow her eyebrows before he swung his backpack off his shoulder and onto the counter, opening it. “How…” She was baffled as he handed her her favorite wine. “I saw a bottle of it standing on your fridge, figured you might like it.” He answered before taking out the pastry, and now she was the one smiling. “So, do you forgive me?” He asked nervously as he looked at her, his eyebrows raised. “I’m still thinking about it.”

 “What?” Eric laughed, slightly tipsy as he looked at Y/N who sat beside him on the brown couch. “You have such a soft spot for me.” Y/N laughed as she took another sip of her drink. “No, I don’t!” He defended himself as he looked at Y/N. He didn’t have a soft spot for her…or maybe he did? “Yes, you do! You hate everyone and anyone and you still came through for me, at least you tried, and you came here with pastry and alcohol to try to cheer me up and apologize. So, yes you do.” She grinned cockily as she watched the blush erupt on his cheeks. “…maybe I do.” He admitted quietly before he downed his drink. “That’s okay.” Eric couldn’t help but admire her. She seemed so full of life, so happy and carefree as if the world wasn’t fucked up and he couldn’t get enough of it. “Because I have a soft spot for you too.” She admitted and before she knew what was going on, his hand found his way to her neck, pulling her in and pressing his lips onto hers, and for a moment Y/N tensed up, before melting into the kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft as she deepened the kiss while she tried to put the glass onto the table and failing miserably, making Eric pull away and burst out in laughter. A smile erupted on Y/N’s face as she finally put down the glass. “Are you still mad?” He asked, his voice soft as she leaned back into his hand that was still placed in her neck. She chuckled, shaking her head. “You are forgiven.”

#eric divergent #eric coulter #eric coulter x reader #eric coulter x y/n #divergent #four divergent

[7wanderingpaws]

Simply, yours (7) (M)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre:�� family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: mature content, language, tiny bit of violence

A/N: Alright! BAEKHYUN SNAPPED! Its happening all now! And there is mature content! I never ever wrote this type of content before, so... it might be just bad and cringey. I apologize if it is too bad, I need to challenge myself in this one more haha! I always enjoy feedback so dont hesitate to reach out! <3 if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know 💕 I am thankful for you all, who read this story!

Tag: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt​

MASTERLIST

PARTS: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7

“Hm, this dinner thing,” Sukyeong started, tapping her index finger on her chin as she was thinking, staring at the email sent by the HR office. You looked at her expectantly, your mind not exactly present because you were thinking about something completely else. However, guessing she would have a serious question for you, you made sure to pay attention, until she blurted: “What will you wear?”

Hehe, you thought skeptically, something that is not hugging my body TOO MUCH. “Dunno,” you dismissed, waving your hand and turning back to your computer screen and back to drowning in your worries. Your cup of freshly brewed tea was still next to your mouse, waiting for it to be sipped, but you had little to no appetite that morning. “We received the email literally minutes ago, Sukyeong. I don't even know what will happen today in the evening.”

Your stomach had been flipping ever since you woke up and Baekhyun's morning kisses didn't soothe any of your nerves.

Sneaking a glance at Sukyeong, who was still deep in thought about what to wear for the upcoming event on Friday, you were desperately trying to figure out if you could tell her your worries. And also, let her know that way about your pregnancy. Would she run her mouth before you would get to speak to your boss?

She definitely wouldn't go against you, that you could state for sure.

Your stomach made yet another flip. Once you felt sweat starting to prickle down your neck, you knew immediately it was one of those mornings. Quickly jumping up, you were fast like lightning, swallowing on a dry throat as you tried to suppress your gag reflex.

Soon enough, you were over the toilet, emptying every single thing that went into your stomach yesterday (and it seemed like all the previous years, given how severe your gagging was). Flushing the toilet with you trembly hand, you took a rest for a bit on the floor, thankful for dressing up warmer (plus a big hoodie to hide your front) that day. The winter was fast approaching, and you couldn't have been more thankful. More reason to wear thicker clothes.

You were still breathing heavily when someone entered the toilets with hasty steps. You heard your name being called out, recognizing the voice as Sukyeong's.

“Are you in here?”

You swallowed, ignoring the familiar pain of your raw throat. “Yeah, I'm in here.”

“Are you okay?”

Closing your eyes for a moment, you felt the tightness of your skin from the dried up tears. One breath, two breaths. Scrambling back to your legs, you opened the door of the stall, meeting a worried face of your kind co-worker. She was surprised to see your pale face and you spotted your phone in her hand. You frowned.

“Your phone kept vibrating; Baekhyun was looking for you and you weren't showing up for a while,” she said quickly and stepped closer to you. “Are you okay? Did you eat something bad last night?”

You shook your head, your heart jumping painfully at the mention of the father of the children you were bearing and complicating your life. Without realising, your chin quivered dangerously and you took in a shaky breath, diamond-shaped tears rolling down your pale cheeks. “I'm pregnant, Sukyeong.” 

There, it was finally out.

“Oh goodness, I knew it! I so knew it!” she squealed, jumping slightly before hugging you. “Oh wait, drink some water,” she said and grabbed a little paper cup, filling it with filtered water on the corridor. She came back and you quickly swallowed, refreshing your burning insides.

“But I have a huge issue,” you continued, wiping your cheeks.

Only now she seemed to realize that you were crying for real. Crying, because something serious was happening. She didn't hesitate when she replied: “What is it? I will help you.”

-

“That piece of shit… he really made you promise him that? What a fucking TRASH!!!”

“I think the best would be if you tell him after dinner. He should be in a good mood. He might not kick you out.”

“We need to figure out what you can wear to hide the belly. It's not big yet, but still!”

“Oh my gosh, you are already this much in? Let me touch youuu!”

Sukyeong's endless support eased up your troubled mind. You were able to be much more relaxed and currently, you and Baekhyun were waiting for her to show up at your apartment to help you “fix the clothes” - you said that to the unsuspecting, innocent face of Byun Baekhyun.

“You look so good in jeans,” you mumbled appreciatively when Baekhyun emerged from the bathroom in nothing but dark-blue jeans, black underwear poking out,  his hair wet, and a towel around his neck.

Wow. Being pregnant and swooning over your loved one hit differently.

Your breath hitched in your throat. “It's supposed to be a family-friendly dinner. You can't go like this, young man!”

He laughed loudly as he walked lazily to you, your eyes still trained on his toned stomach. Damn. “Hey, beauty,” he whispered once he was standing right in front of you, your face now looking up at him. “Let me clean up that drool on your chin.” Smirking like a total flirt that he was, he leaned in and he poked out his tongue, running it up your chin before he pushed it into your mouth, your silent gasp only encouraging him more. His hold on your cheek was gentle, feather-like whilst his kiss was dirty; the exact opposite. You didn't need to be told twice.

Grabbing him by the neck, you pushed him towards you, his body now pressed up against you and your small belly, a delicious moean leaving your mouth when he wrapped his other hand around the low of your back, squeezing you.

“You are so sensitive to my touches. I really like you like this,” he whispered into your panting mouth. You opened your eyes just a little bit; his kiss made you lose your senses for a second.

“Aching, throwing up, gaining weight, all of it?” you murmured as you stroked his cheek.

His eyes were wild,  yet so affectionate. “All of it,” he confirmed as he leaned back in to steal another kiss.

“Wait,” you quickly said and pecked him on the lips as an apology. He gave you a curious look. “I think…” you trailed off, too shy to say what was on your mind, “that I shouldn't be kissing you. Also, you shouldn't walk like this here anymore. The more pregnant I am, the more…” gulp, “I want from you,” you said so quietly, Baekhyun unconsciously leaned in with his ear by your mouth.

He chuckled and bit his lower lip. “You mean you are more horny?”

You nodded, blush creeping up your cheeks. “I don't think you can imagine what I have in mind.”

“Oh, I think I do know.” 

You shook your head but he continued: “My sweetest sweetheart,” he murmured and he made it a point to press his hips into yours as much as possible, given the belly was growing to be quite the restriction between you two. “I put three babies into you,” he murmured in your ear, his words and hot breath sending electric shocks into your southern parts. “Don't think I can't live up to your horny expectations. Nor do think I am not craving you every single fucking day. Because I do,” he sighed and pressed a wet kiss on the side of your neck. “You just look irresistible, and when you're naked… fuck,” his voice trembled, and his hand was already under your shirt, exploring, cupping, caressing, making you a moaning mess. Your head fell backwards in ecstasy and he sucked on the exposed skin on your collarbones. “So if you want three rounds,” he said and straightened up a bit to give you a lustful look, “I will give you three rounds. Each round for one baby.”

You were fast to throw yourself at him, kissing him desperately, needing him to satisfy the ache that only he was able to. The towel he had around his neck fell, his wet hair very slightly dripping still.

Thankfully, you were in the bedroom already. Gently placing you on the bed, Baekhyun crawled up and above you, while his hands were pushing up his shirt you were wearing since you couldn't stand anything that would restrict your movements). Your hands were fumbling with his jeans, but Baekhyun was faster and took them off along with his underwear while you pulled the shirt over your head, and discarded the panties. Bra was also something you wore as little as possible, your breasts being achy and growing, a bra was very uncomfortable. You had yet to go to some markets to get bigger sized bras for a cheaper price.

Baekhyun was back at your lips right away, his fingertips teasingly making their way down the side of your body, starting from your breasts, to the hips all the way to your butt before he hooked his arms under on knee. His other hand wandered off to the parts you needed him the most, by then practically begging him to just move on.

“Oh, wow,” he breathed, awed, “so no foreplay needed anymore, hm?” he purred, as he felt you dripping.

“Please,” you wailed, and he enjoyed himself way too much for your liking. “I will get seriously hurt if you keep the teasing up.”

That made him pay attention to you. “What? Is something hurting? What-”

You raised your head and laughed into his scared face before you put the knee he was holding around his waist, followed with your other leg and pressed him into you, the pressure building up. “I will hurt, if you won't do something,” you breathed loudly.

“Don't scare me like that,” he chastised, frowning momentarily as he brought his hand up to your cheek, into which you leaned in. Eventually, his features softened, and he whispered: “I will take care of you, mummy.”

You were so surprised at the word, you could barely gasp when he finally entered you, his forehead pressed to yours, your hand interlaced with his. He wanted to give you time, worries about hurting you or the babies forever present in his mind, but he barely made it inside and you were begging for more. He would lie if he would have said he didn't like it.

“You're so hot,” he rasped, hiding his face in your neck.

“And you're too slow.”

He laughed into your skin, biting you. “Impatience doesn't take you anywhere.”

You met his hips eagerly and you held his face, your eyes fluttering close. “Exactly. So work,” you said, letting out another wanton moan when he did as you wished. He would do anything you wanted him to, because you were pretty much his everything.

He brought you over the edge sooner than later, helping you ride out the ecstasy as if his dangerous kisses earlier didn't already cast a spell on you. He followed you soon, but you were nowhere near finished.

Before he had time to get back to his senses, you bit his shoulder teasingly, humming. “Darling, again.”

You meant it when you said your horny self was different from your usual one, and Baekhyun was definitely up for a ride except-

There was a knock on your door, followed by a doorbell.

Both of you froze, still panting loudly, still very much high on the quick love you just made.

“It's-”

“Sukyeong,” you finished, cursing before Baekhyun gave you a pointed look, still not moving from your naked body.

“No cursing with babies-”

“Baekhyun!” you said, “you need to move!”

“But the next round-”

You let out a loud laugh before giving him a loud peck. “If there is anyone frustrated, it's me, trust me,” you said as he slowly fell next to you and you sat up, seeing the mess you just made.

He reached to the floor next to the mattress handing you tissues.

Murmuring a thanks, you quickly wiped yourself up and put back the wrinkled shirt that was discarded so carelessly before.

Standing up, you felt a bit sore which made you sit back for a minute just when another loud knock sounded. Few seconds later, your phone was ringing. “Coming!” you shouted. You phone stopped ringing.

Baekhyun chuckled from behind you, still lying there, now covered with the bed sheets. “You look like you have been properly fuc-”

“Don't. Say. It,” you murmured.

He laughed and sat up, kissing the little piece of skin that was not covered on your shoulder. “Hurting?”

You nodded and turned your head to see him, still very needy but thankfully, you weren't as frustrated as you thought you would have been.

“Sorry, should have been a bit gentler,” he murmured, nuzzling your neck.

You snorted. “Are you really sorry though?” you asked, and when you saw his mischievous smile, you got the answer. Pecking him quickly, he leaned into you, attempting to prolong the kiss. “I really have to open the door,” you sighed, “once were are back from the company dinner tonight, you are all mine, you hear me?”

He stared into your eyes for a while, soft smile playing on his lips. “I love you.” His hand was caressing your belly from behind.

You felt like you could burst from happiness. “I love you, too.”

-

One hour later and you were standing in front of the mirror with baggy dress on that Sukyeong got from her older sister who used it during her pregnancy. The dress made you… a bit huge.

“You should wear a long sweater too, hm?” she said, as she took the mentioned piece and circled it around you, placing it on your shoulders. “It should be big enough to divert the attention from your belly,” she murmured in a low voice, knowing that Baekhyun was in the tiny apartment and had no clue about your sneaky plan of hiding your stomach.

You gulped and looked yourself over in the mirror. “It's good enough,” you managed to say.

“You look cute!” chuckled Sukyeong, covering her mouth.

“Is Chen coming sa well?” Baekhyun appeared at the door.

“He is! He will meet us at the restaurant since he is busy,” she replied with a smile, looking at your boyfriend. He nodded when his eyes looked you over for the first time. You weren't sure if you expected any reaction from him but what he gave you was not what you… expected.

“Nice dress,” he murmured, the slightest of frowns knitting his eyebrows together. “I thought you are wearing one of your other dresses.”

Sukyeong looked at me, little panic bubbling in her big eyes.

“Well, you know how I don't like anything that is hugging my body anymore,” you replied truthfully, meeting his gaze bravely. His lazy posture leaning against the doorframe, eyes raking up your body… ah, ah, he was too hot for you. Why were you this horny?!

“It diverts the attention from the bruise that you gave her!” snapped Sukyeong playfully.

You blushed while Baekhyun looked more than proud. “Oh please, I will hide it with makeup,” you said quickly, “but anyway,  how did you ever know that I am pregnant?” you asked and then looked at Baekhyun to clarify: “She followed me to the toilet couple of days ago when I threw up at work and she just said she knew I was pregnant!” you exclaimed with a shocked smile.

Baekhyun raised his eyebrows, curious.

“Please!” Sukyeong waved her hand. “I could smell baby all over you! I noticed your boobs and your morning sickness,” she giggled. “You know, woman's sense. But wow, you are actually expecting three babies... “

You stepped to Baekhyun, hiding your face in his chest out of embarrassment, while he laughed, caressing your back. “So if you noticed, it means others had to notice,” you mumbled but quickly realised you shouldn't go to those waters. Straightening back up, you checked the clock: “We should really finish getting ready! We will be late!”

-

The dinner was taking place at a very posh restaurant. You almost felt out of place in your huge, baggy dress and sweater. Well, at least you lived up to the fact that you were a penniless mother-to-be.

Hands intertwined with Baekhyun's under the table, your boss was on your left at the head of the long table that was filled with colleagues from your department while Sukyeong was opposite you with Chen right next to her. Everyone was in a pleasant conversation except you, because you were your boss's direct assistant and if he didn't talk, you definitely didn't feel like talking. 

Baekhyun raised his fork to your mouth to try the meat with sauce and you smiled up at him, gratefully chewing on the tender meat. He winked at you, satisfied when he saw you eating well. You just prayed he wouldn't say something related to your state, because then it would be… very bad.

“Oh, so cute,” cooed you boss from your other side and it made you snap your eyes to him. He didn't sound so genuine. “Aren't you two sweet. Does your boyfriend always treat you this well?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

You exchanged quick looks with Sukyeong who smiled at your reassuringly. “Yes, always.”

“And you don't want to marry this man?” he asked, laughing.

You froze for a moment and you felt Baekhyun did, too. Feeling the nerves bubbling up in your stomach, suddenly it was churning in anxiety.

“I can't get her to say yes, sir,” replied Baekhyun simply, chuckling to ease up the situation.

You gasped, widening your eyes at your boyfriend. “When did you ever ask?”

Your boss shrugged, amused. “As long as it does not keep her away from her work.”

You bit your lip hoping Baekhyun didn't hear the remark, but when you saw him giving your boss a deadly look, you knew things were turning the wrong way.

You felt another strong pull in your stomach, and you just knew it was coming. Blood was draining from your face and you stood up slowly, trying not to cause a ruckus. Baekhyun gave you a questioning look laced with worry, and you simply whispered: “Toilet.”

He nodded once, and held your hand until he had to let go.

Once you knew you are out of sight, you took off, running quickly to the bathroom, barely making it into the stall, before the entire dinner came out. Since you just ate, you couldn't stop throwing up, retching sounds along with crampings of your stomach making it impossible to even sit down.

You flushed, heaving out a breath as you attempted to sit down before nausea overtook you again, making you gag and crawl back to the bowl. “Shit! Make it stop,” you whined quietly, tears streaming down your face as you tried to calm down.

-

“So, are you really not thinking of marrying any time soon?” spoke your boss to Baekhyun.

“Well, right in this instant we aren't,” he said slowly, not liking an inch the tone your boss was using, “but given our situation, we should do it as soon as it would be possible, right?”

Your boss gave him a surprised look and Baekhyun failed to notice the panic in Sukyeong's eyes when she sensed the direction of the conversation. “What situation?”

Baekhyun blinked once before smiling gently at the thought. “Well, we are expecting three next spring.”

Silence took over your part of the table. Sukyeong abruptly stood up, startling Chen and rushing to search for you, while your boss glared at Baekhyun. “Expecting three? You mean my personal assistant is pregnant?”

Baekhyun, unsure, nodded. “Yes. She is 14 weeks in.”

“What?” he snapped, startling everyone around the table.

Baekhyun frowned but didn't have time to respond, because your boss was looking at someone behind you, angry veins on his neck.

“Baekhyun,” you hissed, but it was too late. Trying not to faint right in front of everyone, you took your boyfriend by his hand but he stood up right away once he saw your pale face.

“You threw up again?” he asked quietly not happy seeing you like that.

Sukyeong nodded eagerly in reply.

“This is probably the last time we are seeing each other,” you heard your boss from the table, and your chin quivered. Baekhyun and Sukyeong both glared at him. “Since you signed the contract promising not to get impregnated but you obviously couldn't do even that!” he spit. “I knew you would be trouble!” he shouted, standing up and coming close to you. Baekhyun was fast to stand in front of you, storm clouding his eyes while Sukyeong gasped, squeezing your hand.

“Move, Mr Byun,” snapped you boss. “I need to talk to my personal assistant.”

You gulped, your throat still painful from throwing up. But Baekhyun wasn't moving an inch. “You talk to my girlfriend under my supervision only,” he said, his tone deep in warning. “Do not dare talk to her that way.”

“I hope you know that you don't need to be polite with me anymore,” retorted your boss and sent daggers your way. “Young people really can't keep it in their pants these days. Having kids without marriage? Disgusting! But even worse? You are useless and pregnant.” 

You squealed when Baekhyun landed a painful punch straight into your boss's face. You grabbed your boyfriend by his arm, trying to stop him. “Wait, Baekhyun, you know you cannot get into a fight!” you said just as he was about to land another punch.

Chen was by your side in a minute, dragging outraged Baekhyun away and you were hot on their heels as you tried to avoid people's intense stares.

Outside on fresh, chilly air, Baekhyun shrugged Chen off, fuming as he turned to you suddenly. “What the fuck just happened!”

You tried not to flinch at his voice, instead getting angry at him. “Are you nuts?! You know you cannot fight outside of your classes! Are you trying to get yourself expelled?!”

He was a hapkido master. Although not strictly, but if someone found out he used his trained strength against someone, his PhD title he was working so hard for could go to waste. And his teaching job as well. Basically, his entire career.

“This isn't about me!” he snapped. “I can't just stand there listening to him talking about you like that!” He was livid. “And what promise was your boss talking about? Was what I heard true?!”

When you weren't replying, your quivering chin was saying it all. Chen was next to Baekhyun to calm him down once again, while Sukyeong tried to calm you down as tears were rolling down your cheeks, your head extremely dizzy. “Yes, you heard correctly! He made me promise I won't get pregnant!”

“For what reason?” he laughed humorlessly as he ran his hands through his hair. “Why the fuck did you even agree to it?”

“Guys,” started Chen with a pleading voice, “you should go home and resolve it there. Baekhyun, your girlfriend is not well,” he added gently, nudging his friend to bring him to his senses.

Baekhyun went silent, taking in your shaky figure, teary cheeks and pale face. He hated the view. Heck, he despised it so much, more so because you were crying mostly because of his outburst. But he couldn't stand you being mistreated like that! And were you hiding stuff from him?

“We are going home, young lady,” he said, his voice uncomfortably levelled. “You have lots of explaining to do.”

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun smut #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun au #baekhyun scenario #kpop au #kpop scenario #exo scenario #exo fanfiction #exo au #my writings

[diner-drama]

Cuddle Buddies (1/?)

"Cuddle Buddies: professional platonic cuddling therapy services for the busy modern professional" are an entirely legitimate organization serving the touch-starved. Look, it's just been a long time since Steve's been in a relationship, and a guy has needs, you know? Sometimes after a long day of being a strong, hard-nosed solicitor, weathering insults and attacks from the opposing counsel and your own coworkers, you just want to have someone stroke your hair and tell you you're good. Bucky loves his job as a professional cuddler, providing non-romantic physical touch to people that need it, and when his new client turns out to be a pint-sized spitfire with a smile to die for, that's just a bonus.

Also on ao3.

"Rumlow, if I wake up tomorrow to find out that you've thrown my client on an airplane and deported her in the middle of the night I will have your ass in front of the bar association before you can blink," barked Steve into the phone held between his ear and shoulder, trying to get his keys out of his pocket one-handed. "You really think they're going to let this slide after last time?"

He paused for a second as the person on the other end of the line made a few abortive attempts at a response, then cut him off. "I'm turning off my phone now. If you still want to talk in the morning after considering my offer you can call me then, but if you pull any of your bullshit in the meantime, I will fucking ruin you."

Steve hung up the call with a flourish and shouldered his front door open, throwing his phone into a basket on an occasional table before closing the door behind him and leaning against it, rubbing his eyes exhaustedly. Being a hard-ass human rights lawyer was all very well and good during the work day, but by the time he got home Steve was more than ready to shed his tough persona and let himself be soft.

The suit jacket was the first to go, shrugged off his slim shoulders and slipped onto a hanger. Then, his smart, shiny shoes were slipped off and replaced with warm, thick socks. He swapped his starched shirt for an old, lived-in hoodie, and his neatly pressed slacks for sweatpants. His black briefcase found a home in the spare room he used as an office, and he shut the door after it, mentally shutting away his work life. He ran his hand through his smartly-combed hair to muss it up and rolled his shoulders back, taking a few deep breaths and letting the stress of his day roll off him.

He wandered around the living room, picking up a blanket from the steamer trunk by the window, drawing the curtains, and switching on the electric fireplace which filled the space with warmth and low, flickering light. He picked up his personal phone from the coffee table and sent a quick text to Sam to let him know he made it home safely, sent a thumbs up to Darcy in response to a terrible meme she'd sent him, and briefly considered video calling Peggy before remembering that she was in a conference in Singapore.

He flopped down onto the couch and wrapped himself up tight in the blanket, enjoying its weight on his shoulders. Opening his laptop, he coughed in embarrassment when the tab that he'd opened in a fit of loneliness last night popped up. "Cuddle Buddies: professional platonic cuddling therapy services for the busy modern professional" seemed to be an entirely legitimate organization serving the touch-starved, and they had excellent reviews.

Look, it's just been a long time since Steve's been in a relationship, and a guy has needs, you know? Sometimes after a long day of being a strong, hard-nosed solicitor, weathering insults and attacks from the opposing counsel and your own coworkers, you just want to have someone stroke your hair and tell you you're good. Steve did his best to keep his work and home lives separate, but lately it was getting difficult to switch off from his worries when he was lying in bed at night, going over details from his cases while he tossed and turned on his pillows.

He scrolled through the information on the website one more time, thinking about how it might feel to invite a stranger into his home to cuddle him. Would it be uncomfortable? Would they think he was pathetic?

Putting aside the laptop for a minute, he ambled back into the kitchen to re-heat some shepherd's pie and put on the kettle for a cup of tea, climbing on a step stool to reach the mugs. His fingers and toes still a little chilly from the crisp autumn evening outside, he decided to fill up a hot water bottle, tucking it carefully into its fluffy case and holding it under his arm as he brought his dinner and drink back to the table. After a couple of bites of the pie, he pulled out a neat little wicker basket from under the table and took out his evening medications. Tapping the pills into his hand, he swallowed them with a gulp of tea and took a couple of huffs of his steroid inhaler for good measure, before getting back to his meal.

Steve may have lost the genetic lottery when it came to his height and his abysmal health, but the gods had seen fit to bless him with more than his share of sheer, bloody-minded scrappiness, which he felt more than made up for it.

Once he'd cleared the plate away and made himself a second cuppa, he opened up a book on his e-reader and held the comforting, warm weight of the hot water bottle to his chest, wondering idly, not for the first time, whether he should get a cat. He was a couple of chapters into a mediocre romance novel when he started tapping his fingers, thinking.

After a brief moment of indecision, he grabbed the laptop with renewed certainty and began to type a request into the website.

Bucky was just waving goodbye to Nat as he walked away from their session when his phone chimed, alerting him that there was a new customer inquiry that the agency wanted him to look at.

Maria: 28 yo man in Red Hook interested in trying cuddle therapy to help with work stress. Would prefer male therapist. Due to asthma, no cologne or scented products, and non-smokers only.

He smiled, and shot off a quick affirmative response. Maria often sent him their new clients - there was something about him that reassured people if they felt a little unsure about the services. Bucky was perfectly happy with his chosen profession - non-romantic physical touch was, in his opinion, essential for a happy life, and he got to provide it to people that needed it. Bucky liked to observe people and through his job he'd met a wide array of curious characters, so the work was never boring.

Also, the pay was amazing and Alpine would only eat the expensive cat food, so there was that.

He continued on his journey, enjoying the changing leaves on the trees around him and the chill in the air. Just as he was about to step onto the subway, his phone buzzed again, and after he found a seat he saw that Maria had sent him the phone number for his new client. He sent off his standard greeting straight away, eager to get his schedule firmed up.

Bucky: Hi Steve, this is Bucky from the Cuddle Buddies agency. When works for you for our first meeting? Looking forward to working with you!

Steve: Thanks for getting back to me. Saturday evening would be best for my schedule. Can I pay the $80 fee via bank transfer? -Steven Grant Rogers, Shield Solicitors

The response came immediately, and was far more businesslike than his usual interactions with clients. Still, Bucky could be businesslike. He even owned a tie.

Bucky: You sure can - the agency should send you out a contract tonight with the bank details. I can do Saturday at 7 if that suits.

Steve: Saturday at 7 sounds fine. What are the terms of the contract?

Of course, Mr. Lawyer Man wanted to know about the contract.

Bucky: It lays out what to expect in our interactions - we provide purely non-sexual services - as well as how to deal with cancellations, how we protect your privacy, and the billing structure.

Steve: Thank you. I look forward to meeting you on Saturday.

Bucky shook his head, wondering how this stuffy, formal guy was going to act during their cuddle session.

Steve didn't have the opportunity to start feeling anxious about his cuddle appointment because the negotiations with the lawyers at the ICE detention center took up every moment of his time. He was wrapping up his conversation with a client via email in his home office when his alarm chimed to let him know that he had half an hour until Bucky arrived.

After stretching his arms over his head, wincing at the tightness of his shoulders after slouching all day, he stripped out of the pajamas he was still wearing and indulged in a long, hot shower, scrubbing away his stress and emerging pink-cheeked and fluffy-haired. In his bedroom, he changed into a soft blue flannel shirt and a pair of pants that looked like slacks but felt like sweatpants, and another pair of his warm, fuzzy socks.

Pacing around his living room, his nerves ramping up, he selected a different blanket to leave ready on the couch and checked twice on his selection of teas. He had just put the kettle on to boil when the buzzer sounded.

On opening the door, he was immediately reassured to see that Bucky had a friendly, engaging grin, and was wearing a soft, knitted sweater. He held out a hand to shake and then immediately felt like an idiot, but Bucky just grasped Steve's cold hand with his warm one and squeezed it.

"Hi, you must be Steve," said Bucky with a pleasant Brooklyn drawl. Without being asked, he pulled a Cuddle Buddies ID card out of his pocket and handed it over to Steve, who checked the details on it and handed it back.

"Nice to meet you," said Steve stiffly. "Please, come on in. I'm just making a cup of mint tea, do you want one?"

"That'd be perfect, Steve. Mind if I take my shoes off?"

"Go ahead," replied Steve with a thin smile, attending to the whistling kettle.

"Thanks," said Bucky when he accepted his cup of tea. Steve couldn't help but notice that Bucky was wearing mis-matched but co-ordinating socks, one with red stars on a white background, and the other with white stars on a red background. He ushered Bucky to take a seat on the couch and sat in the armchair opposite. Bucky's posture was loose and open, but Steve was sitting bolt upright and jiggling his leg nervously. Fortunately, Bucky chose to take the lead in the conversation.

"So, I usually start first sessions with clients by talking about what your goals are for therapy," he began with a reassuring smile. "For example, some clients are looking to feel more comfortable with physical touch, some want to get over a breakup, or reduce stress, and some are just looking for companionship."

"I guess the companionship and stress things," said Steve after thinking for a moment. "My job takes a lot out of me, so I don't really have the time to pursue a relationship, but I do miss that human touch."

Bucky smiled gently, as though what Steve had said wasn't anything out of the ordinary. "What do you do?"

"I'm a lawyer, I mostly represent people who are in danger of deportation," said Steve automatically.

"That sounds rewarding," replied Bucky encouragingly.

"It is," agreed Steve, "but it's incredibly draining. I have to be so hard and tough all the time. Sometimes I think it would be nice to just be..." He tailed off, unsure how to finish his sentence.

"Soft?" supplied Bucky.

Steve smiled, feeling more comfortable despite his misgivings. "Yeah."

"Thank you for being so open with me, Steve," said Bucky, reaching over to squeeze Steve's knee. "If you don't have a particular preference for how we start, how about you join me on the couch and I put my arms around you. Does that sound good?"

Suddenly shy, Steve nodded and moved to sit next to Bucky, who immediately wrapped his big arms around Steve's shoulders and pulled Steve into his broad chest. As requested, Bucky wasn't wearing any fragrance, but he still smelled good, like fresh laundry and crisp autumn air, with an undercurrent of clean skin.

As he relaxed into Bucky's embrace, Steve tried to remember the last time he'd been held so gently. He was a regular recipient of Sam's big bear hugs and Darcy's chest-crushing squeezes, but he hadn't had a long-term romantic partner since law school, and his career didn't leave him a lot of free time to look for one.

"How does that feel?" asked Bucky in a low, soothing voice, gently rubbing at Steve's shoulder.

"Really good," breathed Steve.

"I'm glad," said Bucky gently. "How about I lie down on my back here and you snuggle up to my chest?"

Steve nodded his assent and Bucky released him slowly, and then rolled over to lie along the couch, opening up his arms so that Steve could slot himself in to rest his head on Bucky's warm chest. The knit of his sweater was soft against Steve's face, and one of Bucky's big hands came up to cup the back of Steve's head, rubbing small circles at the base of his skull with his fingertips.

"Thanks for not wearing cologne," said Steve, sounding muffled.

"Pal, I think you sneezing in my face would be worse for me than for you," laughed Bucky, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"It's not my sexiest move," agreed Steve, burrowing deeper into the soft warmth of Bucky's body.

Steve hadn't expected that conversation would carry on easily while they were cuddling - he predicted awkward silences and a feeling of general embarrassment - but they continued chatting while Bucky carded his fingers through Steve's hair, and he felt himself dropping deeper and deeper into a calm state of relaxation.

"So why'd you become a lawyer?" asked Bucky in a low voice, barely breaking into the spell he was casting over Steve.

"Ma came over here from Ireland to work as a nurse," replied Steve drowsily, "and when my pa died, she ran into some trouble with some of her immigration paperwork. There was a lawyer who worked pro bono to stop her from getting deported... the guy really changed our lives."

"So now you help other people the same way."

"I try to. How'd you get into professional cuddling?"

"After I got out of the army, I used to go for counseling sessions at the VA. Took a couple of years, but eventually I started on a course to be a counselor myself. A lot of those guys are so touch-starved, you know? My friend got the idea to start up a cuddling service and I jumped at the chance. It's been my full-time job for three years now."

Digesting this information, Steve was silent for a moment. He wouldn't have pegged Bucky as a soldier given how open and relaxed he was, but Sam didn't seem like an air force pilot, so you never knew. He cast around for a follow-up question. "Are there a lot of cuddling agencies in the world?" he settled on eventually.

"Oh yeah, it's a real growth industry. There's even a book called the Cuddle Sutra."

Steve scoffed. "You're kidding me, people write books about this stuff?"

Bucky cuffed him gently on the back of the head. "Shut up, punk. That's my profession you're besmirching."

"Are you allowed to tell your clients to shut up?" smirked Steve, never happier than when he was being a little shit.

"Only if they're being a punk," grumbled Bucky, wrapping an arm around the back of Steve's shoulders to pull him closer.

Over the course of the next forty five minutes, Steve learned more about Bucky's family, his asshole cat, his collection of semi-dead succulent plants, and his opinions on the present administration of the country. Bucky managed to wheedle Steve into talking about the bullying he faced at work, the stress of not having as many resources as he needed to help everyone he worked with - and he very nearly managed to get him to disclose his mother's recipe for shepherd's pie, and was only stopped by the threat that the ghost of Sarah Rogers would haunt him until he died.

Between the cozy warmth of Bucky's body, the soothing cadence of his voice, and the way his minty breath ghosted over Steve's forehead when he chuckled, Steve was pretty much in heaven, wrapped up in comfort. When Bucky's phone started to vibrate in his pocket, they both let out a little noise of annoyance.

"'Fraid that's my alarm. How'd you enjoy your first session?" asked Bucky, still stroking lines down Steve's back.

Steve hummed contentedly. "Worth every penny," he replied, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head.

"I'm really glad," said Bucky sincerely, squeezing his shoulder before standing up and heading towards his shoes. "Same time next week?"

"That'd be perfect. Thanks, Bucky. For everything."

"No problem," he replied with a genuine grin, fishing his phone out of his pocket. "Now I'd better call Maria before she gets the cops after me to make sure I haven't been murdered in a back alley somewhere."

"I'm glad they care so much about your safety."

"I love my job," laughed Bucky as he let himself out the front door, waving goodbye to Steve as he put the phone to his ear.

Steve spent some time smiling and waving like a goof until Bucky rounded the corner, at which point he finally shook himself awake and shut and locked his door. It was only eight PM but after a few nights of fractured sleep he was ready to follow his relaxed, sleepy feeling straight to bed.

After he pottered around the room, straightening up and putting things away, he brushed his teeth and jumped onto his big, comfortable bed, where he rolled himself up in his comforter like a burrito. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

#stucky #my fics #cuddle buddies

[harryandmolly]

Complicit // 4

summary: Shawn is under more pressure than he’s ever known. He craves release and comfort, the simplicity of sex. He gets more than he bargained for.

warnings: language, NSFW (good & rough, babies), my self control has truly gone up in smoke

WC: 6.8k

-----------

Shawn shifts, his eyelids tightening against the morning sun even through the drawn gauzy curtains. He’s aware now, but barely. He’d rather not be. The sleep he gets after a night with her is maybe even more addictive than the date itself. He’s sure it’s because she wears him out so thoroughly.

He’s lying on his stomach, his cheek turned, pressed into the silk sheets provided by the little Malibu beachside inn the agency booked for them. If he keeps his eyes shut he can concentrate on the sound of waves lapping at the shore of Point Dume. 

He grumbles. He can’t hear them. He can hear her shuffling around instead. He slowly opens his cloudy dark eyes to assess, lifting his head to find her.

Penny has a pretty strict policy about mornings after dates. Sticking around sets a dangerous precedent. The morning after, it’s all messy hair and morning breath and sleepy eyes and sore, tired muscles -- vulnerability at its most beautiful and most human. It’s not professional, so it’s not safe. That time, that kind of exposure, is to be minimized.

Penny’s already in leggings and a sports bra, typing on her phone with one hand and holding an Outdoor Voices hoodie in the other. She hears him and looks over with a sleepy smile.

“Hi there,” she whispers. Her voice is smooth. It makes his eyes flutter as he thinks about how her skin felt last night.

He just smiles in response.

Her lips curl in a wry grin. “That’s a very happy face you’re making.”

He wonders if he’s really beyond embarrassment with her now. He stretches like a cat and feels his body resist, then give in. He groans deeply, heavily. It’s music to her ears.

“That’s cause you’re a fucking miracle worker.”

When he says shit like this, Penny wants to crawl back on top of him and make him come a few more times. But she knows he’s tired. He worked hard for her. She perches beside him, ankles crossed delicately, and runs a hand down his naked back, admiring.

“You make it easy, baby,” she assures him. Her smile is placid. It turns a little devilish when she cups his ass cheek through the sheet and gives it a squeeze. Shawn squirms gently and smiles.

“I have to go. Gus will be by in half an hour to pick you up and bring you back to your car.”

Beneath her hand, Shawn rolls over. His cheeks have pillow marks and sport a hearty morning flush. His curls are wild from her fingers and his own. She swallows and leaves her hand where it’s fallen, brushing his lower ribs.

He closes his eyes. “I’m leaving for the festival run.”

She nods and keeps her eyes on his chest hair, waiting for him to give the little break up speech she’s used to.

It’s not really a break up, of course. It’s more like an awkward firing. A “hey… you’ve been great but your services are no longer required, thanks!” It’s ok. It means she’s done some good. She can see in every move of his soft, sore muscles that she’s eased most of his tension away. He’ll go into a long, hot, busy summer fresh and rejuvenated because of her. She can live with that.

“I…” He gets flustered and rakes a hand through his hair, cupping his other hand around her wrist, “I don’t know how to ask… I mean, I don’t even know if you’d be interested and it’s kind of--”

“Shawn, what do you need?”

It’s simple, she wants to remind him, I’ll give you everything you need.

Shawn’s eyes shut again. He gently, absently massages the tendons in her wrist. “I… was wondering if I could fly you out to Vegas to be there the weekend of my first festival. I think having you there would really help. But I don’t know if you’re busy or if it’s too soon, y’know, I know I haven’t been seeing you very long and I don’t want to be that guy or--”

She quiets his yammering by dragging her hand up to curl around the back of his neck, drawing his eyes to hers.

“That could be arranged,” she murmurs. It makes his toes curl. The tips of his ears go as pink as his cheeks. He grins.

“Yeah?”

She nods smugly. He still needs her. There’s no better feeling. “Call Colette with the details. She can arrange my travel and my room. I have to go home and feed Pammy.”

She stands, looking down at him fondly. Her body tenses and she leans her weight into front foot like she’s going to crouch to kiss him. Instead she swallows, reaches for her suitcase handle and waves with a couple free fingers before she steps out into the humid Malibu morning.

+

Penny doesn’t relish flying commercial, but she doesn’t have much of an excuse to charter a flight just to get to Vegas from LA, especially if she won’t be joined on the flight by a client.

So, first class then.

Colette has her on the United 6 PM into McCarran. She’s getting in just as the city is warming up, coming alive for the night. Flying into Vegas at sunset is especially romantic to Penny. She has visions of Frank at the Sands, of cocktails at the Carnival Lounge, of cruising past the famous ‘Welcome to Las Vegas’ sign in a topless red Thunderbird. Penny always has had a fondness for vintage, and especially to Vegas, with its close links to the Rat Pack. 

Shawn has already reimbursed the agency for her weekend expenses including travel and accommodation, plus her hefty three-day weekend price tag, so Gus is not along for the ride. Instead, a driver will meet her at the airport to shepherd her over to the Bellagio, her preferred Vegas lodging. Her suite is on the floor above Shawn’s.

Penny is used to the glamour. This is not the first time she’s been flown out to meet a client in an exciting city. It’s not even the first time she’s been flown to Vegas to fuck for a weekend in the Bellagio.

But this… she’s excited about.

Shawn must have called Colette as soon as she got in her car because she got the confirmation of the booking when she was crawling back to Studio City on the 101. Two days, three nights, $12,000. He’s playing the inaugural iHeart Summer festival, headlining the first of three nights with names like Cardi B, Miley Cyrus, Dua Lipa, Sam Smith and, of course, Bex.

Not that Penny minds. She’s not attending the festival. His team doesn’t know about her and he intends to keep it that way. She’s not there to be his arm candy, she’s there to take the pressure off behind closed doors. She doesn’t mind behind the dirty little secret. She’s good at it.

The fountain at the Bellagio is surrounded by tourists when she arrives in her hired Tesla. She watches the spray of the impressive water display shimmer in the nighttime lights of the Vegas strip until her driver politely calls for her attention. Her luggage, absolutely excessive for a three day trip, is loaded onto a cart. She reaches for her phone as she’s guided past check-in and up to her fountain view king suite.

Silver Fox: Arrived safely? Xx

Petey Pie: hiiiiii pls slay in vegas you absolute queen, miss you 🖤

She shoots off a quick series of hearts and mushy love words to each before switching to her work phone to dial the agency, impatiently tapping the toe of her pointy black patent leather Brian Atwood stilettos on the hardwood floor.

“Hiya, Pen,” Colette greets, much more casually and without the put-upon accent she sports for client calls, “Everything good there?”

“Just got in. Great room. Can you let him know I’m here?” Penny asks breezily.

“He just called, actually. He says he’s sorry but he can’t see you tonight. He said he has to do “a Bex thing” and that you’d know what that meant.”

Penny looks up from her shoes. Her vision is blurred, unfocused as she looks past the lights of the strip. After a beat too long, she answers.

“Sure, no problem. Thank you, Colette.”

She hangs up and tosses the gold cased phone to the bed. Her slender hands fall to her hips. She continues staring, willing her brain to quiet as her hands begin to wander -- one up to tease her collarbones where they lay bare beneath her oversized men’s dress shirt, the other slipping between her thighs, pressing against the rough denim of her J Brand jeans. She sighs, tilts her head and closes her eyes.

Slowly, she strips out of her clothes, including the pale peach satin lingerie set underneath, leaving them lying on the floor in front of the window. She collapses into the luxurious bedspread, lips mashing together as she sets to work, fingers trembling when she muffles her desperate moans of release into the ornate cushion by her head.

After a few minutes enjoying the afterglow, she bundles up in a fluffy white hotel robe and calls for room service.

+

Shawn stares at the ceiling, twiddling his St. Christopher medal between his fingers as he thinks.

He doubts her room is, like, directly above his. He doubts the footsteps he hears padding around above him are hers. He’d kind of like to imagine they are, though. He wonders what she’s doing.

He’s been wondering since he stood outside her hotel room door last night after 3am, wanting her so bad he couldn’t fucking breathe. He stopped himself from knocking, though. Thank god.

He arrived in Vegas a few hours before Penny did. Upon checking in, Andrew announced that Bex’s flight was moved up to facilitate a staged night out before festival rehearsals. It made sense. Shawn had already mentally accounted for having to spend public time with her on this trip, given they were playing the same festival lineup. He just didn’t know he’d basically be stepping off the plane into a paparazzi circus to hold the hand of a girl whose middle name he doesn’t know, only to be seen slinking away with her back to their hotel.

His stomach rolled at the idea until Penny’s words in her somehow comfortingly stern voice play in his head: this relationship stunt doesn’t define you as a man or as an artist.

He still feels bad, though. He expected to spend the night with Penny. He flew her out here to be with him and now he has to toss her aside for work. It doesn’t seem fair.

He runs a hand through his curls and grunts. Maybe she’s relieved. Maybe it feels like a paid night off in Vegas. Maybe she hasn’t thought about him at all.

He hopes he’s wrong.

+

Penny takes a bubble bath the next morning with too many bubbles and a mimosa after a grueling start at the gym -- 3 miles on the treadmill and 45 minutes of free weights. It felt incredible, almost as incredible as the gardenia-scented bath and the fresh citrus blend of juice that had her lighter than air as the rest of the city began to stir.

She doesn’t expect to hear from Shawn until this evening, at least. It’s his first day of rehearsals at the MGM Grand and he has promo and photoshoots -- all this according to Colette, to whom he gave his schedule when he made the booking.

So Penny takes herself shopping.

Brunch at Bellagio Patisserie is followed by a short walk over to the Grand Canal Shoppes at the Venetian. It’s one of her favorite spots, not despite its kitschiness, but because of it -- the false blue sky overhead and the overflowing flower boxes beneath lit windows in a long neighborhood of Italian storefronts, the men in striped shirts and flat hats singing Italian folk songs as they steer gondolas full of tourists down the indoor river.

It’s all a little too much, just like Vegas is supposed to be. She adores it.

She has an arm full of bags by early afternoon -- Fendi, Barney’s, Louis Vuitton, and those are just for her. She snagged a cute new pair of Vilebrequin swim trunks for Peter and a pair of sky blue Ferragamo slides for Silver. She plans on having a quick salad for lunch before spending the rest of the day at the Cypress pool. 

She’s striding through the airy, unusually quiet lobby of the Bellagio trailed by a bellhop toting her bags when she stops short.

In the window of Cartier, something sparkles. Well, not just one thing, but one thing in particular catches her eye. It’s a ring from the Étincelle de Cartier collection, a looped, overlapping band of rose gold, studded with diamonds. She’s seen the design before, has admired it online, in magazines, even on the fingers of other women. But it’s never called to her like this before. She narrows her eyes, tilts her head and glances down at her naked, plum-painted fingers. 

She decides they look lonely. With a nod to her wide-eyed and very attentive bellhop, she steps inside. 

25 minutes later, humming “I Love Vegas” by Dean Martin, a few thousand dollars poorer, Penny comes strutting out of Cartier with the little red ring box stuffed in her purse and its contents catching the afternoon light on the middle finger of her left hand.

+

Shawn clears his throat again. His eyes are angled down at the toes of his boots as they scuff the stage. He drums his fingers, clasped together around the mic, bobbing his head.

He looks up. Cez and Andrew stand a few yards away in the midst of crowds of roadies setting up the Grand Garden Arena for the festival. They’re talking and nodding and Shawn is trying not to imagine that they’re discussing how fucking edgy and nervous he’s been all morning.

He thinks bitterly he’d be a lot better if he’d gotten to see Penny last night. He closes his eyes and lets himself imagine it -- slipping her out of a shimmery gold dress, tangling his fingers in her hair while her lips course over his chest, lying beneath her as she rides him hard into an expensive mattress while the fountain show is visible through the window.

God, he fucking craves it. He wants to beg for her, to get on his knees for her, to follow her instructions so exactly that she can’t help but smile, call him “baby” in that sweet, breathless voice and, finally, when she’s ready, when he knows he’s earned it, make him come so spectacularly that he can’t remember his own fucking name, much less all that comes attached to it.

He’s going insane without it. That’s what this is, he’s sure. It’s not Bex or the other names on the bill or his name in the biggest lettering he’s ever seen outside the goddamned MGM Grand or the millions of people that will be watching on the TV broadcast. It’s withdrawal. It’s been six days since Malibu, he’s jonesing. That’s all.

He grunts gently and tilts his head forward, gliding into a vocal run as the band plays through LIJ. He needs what Penny and Penny alone can give him to get through his first headlining festival. No matter what, he’s seeing her tonight. No one will fight him. He’s been rehearsing all day and his show is tomorrow. He’ll eat with the team and turn in early, solemn and responsible.

And he’ll go straight to her room and let her fuck him stupid.

Andrew looks up at him. Shawn’s head lifts.

“Sounding great, dude. How do you feel?”

Shawn doesn’t hesitate. “We’re going to run through it again.”

+

She’s topless, facedown on a chaise lounge by the exclusive Cypress pool running through agency numbers on her laptop. It’s almost time to turn over again and reapply sunscreen. Her bellini is fresh and cool, just replaced by the cute poolside waitress who’s been especially attentive. 

Her phone buzzes.

Colette: The client will meet you in your room at 9pm.

Penny wets her lips and sets her phone down. She stretches, tightening every muscle from the tips of her fingers to her toes, and slackens against the cushions, feeling pooling warmth below her belly.

+

Her scalp tingles at the gentle knock on the door. In the dimly lit room, she pads barefoot to the door, glass of champagne fizzing in her newly decorated hand. She checks the peephole, sweeps some hair off the shoulder of her black satin robe and opens the door.

His head snaps up like he wasn’t expecting her. He looks distracted and very tired. He smiles, guilty, like he knows how easily she can see his tension all over him. She has her work cut out for her tonight.

“Hi,” he murmurs, sounding just about as depleted as he feels. He reaches up and brushes some loose curls out of his eyes. They’re still a little wet from his post-rehearsal shower. He knows she doesn’t mind.

Penny takes his hand and it’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes. She leads him wordlessly into her room. The lamp by her bed is on and the curtains on her floor-to-ceiling windows are drawn open, allowing the only light in the room. Her phone is plugged into the stereo, playing Sinatra’s In the Wee Small Hours album. He follows her to the sofa and sits, hearing his knees creak, feeling his back ache. She perches beside him and lifts her legs over his lap. He settles, curling one hand around her ankle and using the other to rub circles into her knee.

He looks up at her timidly. She fights a concerned frown.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he whispers, looking a little distraught, “I feel… kinda weird about it.”

“Why weird?” she asks, handing him a glass of champagne. He reluctantly pries a hand off her silky skin to take it and sip.

“Because… because you’re here for me and I ditched you. I mean, you know I didn’t want to, right? God, fuck, I really didn’t want to. I would’ve given anything to be here with you last night. But--”

“It’s ok, Shawn,” she assures him, widening her eyes to underline her sincerity, “This is your job. I understand that and I respect that. It deserves your time and attention more than I do.”

“But still, I flew you out here. I… I’d never want you to feel like just because I’m paying to see you that that means I can do whatever I want with you or your time. Because I respect you, too.”

Penny is quiet for a few very long seconds. “I know you do. It’s one of the reasons I like spending time with you. But we wouldn’t be here together if you weren’t in this position with your job.”

His skin prickles. He swallows another sip, a slightly larger one. “I guess it’s still weird for me. Being out with her, seeing the headlines and what people think.”

She brings in the ringer -- she scoops a hand up into the curls at the back of his neck and scrunches them, massaging her fingers against his nape. His eyes slide shut. He purrs.

“It’s all for a good cause,” she reminds him gently.

He nods and sips again, keeping his eyes shut.

“How was your day?” he whispers after a few quiet moments, fluttering his eyes back open.

“Good,” she chuckles, “I went to the gym, I took a bubble bath, I shopped, I laid out by the pool.”

He can tell. She’s all shimmery and warm in a way a woman only can be when she’s soaked up some natural sun. He nods admiringly, letting his fingers wander up her bare leg.

“Did you buy anything?”

She goes a little bashful. Shawn’s eyebrows lift.

“A few things,” she admits, untangling her fingers from his hair and holding her hand out in front of him, “This is my favorite.”

Shawn cups her hand in his broad palm and examines the ring with a grin. “It’s pretty. Why are you making that face?”

She purses her lips around a smile. “It’s a splurge. I walked into Cartier downstairs on a whim. I saw it in the window and needed it immediately.”

There’s something undeniably sexy to Shawn about a woman who knows what she wants and goes for it. He bites into his lower lip and brushes the pad of his thumb over the glinting stones.

“You deserve it, Pen.”

She slips her hand from his and slowly curls it under his jaw. “I know.”

His breath catches in his throat. He chokes on a stammering laugh. “I know you know. I guess I just like reminding you.”

She wets her unpainted lips. “Because you’re my good boy.”

Air whistles out of Shawn’s nose as he exhales. He nods in her hand.

Penny leans in. His lips are warm and a little rough, but they taste like champagne. She sighs into him, lets him trace his fingers up the outside of her thigh, brushing where the short robe lies against her sun-kissed skin. The tension in his jaw abates when she slips her tongue between his lips, exploring the way he softens just for her.

He pulls away first, out of breath. He presses his cheek to hers, nuzzling.

“Fuck, you have no idea how much I needed that.”

Penny places her flute of champagne beside his on the end table and reaches for him. They stand, Penny up on her toes to meet him from several inches below. With her hands secured around his neck, she continues kissing him -- she’s found it’s the best way to get him totally present with her, the fastest and sweetest way to relax him until he’s warm and pliant in her hands.

Her eyes are shut. The lights from the fountain show cast a glow against her eyelids but she’s too into him to notice. They explore different rhythms -- soft, sweet kisses, skating hands, gentle noises and rough, passionate moans, grabbing, taking, feeling.

She presses him back into the window, watching the colored lights of the strip surround his head like a halo as he pants down at her. For a moment, she just takes him in, breathing heavily, eyes wide, swallowing him in gulps. His hands twitch against her waist. She feels the tremble and lets it ground her.

She plants a hand against his chest. It rises and falls with his breath. She watches it, watches him beneath it, the way his eyes sparkle at her now that he’s all here, all hers.

“Shawn,” she beckons, guiding him with her voice, “Strip.”

He blinks, and it’s the only moment of pause he takes before he starts to obey. She steps back to give him room to kick off his boots, shove at his jeans and boxers, wriggle out of his fitted tee. He stands before her like the statue of David, but better -- flushed and full of life, hardening cock stirring against his thigh, brushed with soft hair all over his warm body.

“God, you’re fucking magnificent.”

Her eyes flash after she says it, locking onto his. He goes absolutely magenta, swallowing roughly and turning his face when the eye contact becomes too much. She makes a disapproving noise from the back of her throat and cups his cheek to turn him back to her. 

“Look at me,” she urges, but it’s warm and, underneath, a little pleading. She holds his gaze. This time, he preens a little, lifting his chin, smiling, even flexing. She releases a wet growl and nods.

“I got myself off thinking about you last night,” she confesses hotly, reaching for the sash of her robe. His abs tense this time in shock, not to peacock for her.

“Really?” he stammers, eyes going comically wide.

She nods eagerly, slipping the robe off her shoulders. On her bronzed skin she wears a gold lace lingerie set -- a balconette bra she’s positively spilling from and a barely there v-string. His fingers curl into his palms and his head falls back into the window with a thud.

“I thought about you on your knees for me,” she pants, “Begging, pleading for a taste. God, you were ravenous. Fucking devouring me. So good for me, baby, just like always.”

Shawn whines impatiently, eyes falling shut as he imagines it too, cock bobbing against his thigh as he shivers.

“And then --” she purrs, causing him to snap his eyes back open because she sounds closer than she was, and she is, she’s standing so close that her feet are between his and her breasts are a hair’s breadth from his chest.

“--then, I let you fuck me.”

Shawn gasps a breath because he forgot he needed oxygen until his body forcibly reminded him.

“Yeah?” he croaks.

Penny nods, smirking. She rests her palms against his chest and hears him deflate like a balloon. She cocks her head, admiring her ring in this new light. The rose gold looks pretty against his skin. She hums thoughtfully, nudges it with her thumb to watch it sparkle.

Her eyes lift to his. He was already watching her closely.

“You like my ring, Shawn?”

He nods, certain, but unsure of where she’s going with this. She spreads her fingers and starts gliding her hand up over his collarbone, wrapping delicately around his throat. He stops breathing like she’s restricting his airway, but it’s just in anticipation. After a heated moment, she continues her hand’s path under his chin and up until her fingertips rest against his mouth.

“Open,” she commands softly.

Shawn’s jaw drops enough for her to slip her index and middle finger into his mouth, resting against his perfect wet tongue. He grunts, closes his mouth around them, starting to suck gently to gauge her reaction.

She watches him hungrily as he tastes her fingers, swirling his tongue along the length of them, between them, paying special attention to the ring she’s so fond of. He groans as he watches her face, lips parted like she, too, can’t believe how fucking hot this is.

Slowly, carefully, he lifts his hands to rest in the dips of her waist, anchoring her close to him as he lavishes her fingers, admiring their slender strength in his mouth. She curls them teasingly, he nips at her knuckles to watch her squirm. The lights and sounds of the city behind them are totally lost. Or maybe they’re the ones that are lost.

Shawn keeps sucking and licking far past the point of vulgarity. The noises his mouth makes against her fingers are filthy and he hopes (he’s pretty confident) that it’s doing a good job of getting her wet for him. She’s not stopping him, though. She’s rapt, amazed at his attention, waiting -- for what, he’s not sure. But he won’t stop until she tells him to.

Maybe it’s her wriggling impatience that finally has her tugging her fingers away from his swollen lips with a pop. He flicks his head back to free his sweaty forehead from some stray curls. He breathes hard, mouth open, waiting for whatever she wants next.

Penny brushes her tongue against her lower lip. She skims her wet fingers down her stomach, dipping into the front of her panties with a sigh. In her periphery, Shawn’s chest rises and falls a little faster. She curls her fingers against her pussy with a groan, shoulders softening, head lolling sideways when she releases a soft breath.

“Penny,” Shawn hisses weakly, “Please.”

Her eyelids are heavy as she stares up at him. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, she can tell. It’s ok. She always knows what he wants even when he doesn’t.

Slowly, a little reluctantly, she pulls her hand from between her legs and slips her fingertips into the cup of her bra, holding a condom up for him to take. He heaves a relieved sigh and lifts a corner of his wet mouth. 

She takes his free hand and pulls him off the window, taking his place against it. She settles back for a moment, staring up at his face as he concentrates on steadying his shaky fingers enough to roll the condom on. He blinks hard when he finishes and sees her watching him.

“Wh-what do you want, Penny?”

She turns her back to him, shifts her hands up until they’re pressing into the glass above her head. Shawn’s breath shudders hard in his chest as he admires the shape of her, fully illuminated by the city lights. He takes a mental picture, begs his frazzled brain to hold onto this image as long as he can.

She glances over her shoulder and nods at him. Wordlessly, reverently, he peels her out of her pretty bra and panties, tossing them behind him toward the bed. She chuckles at his eagerness. He smiles back, caught, but comfortable  basking in how much he wants her. 

She turns. Shawn inhales sharply and staggers, planting a hand up on the window beside her to remain steady. She gathers him up into her arms and, as they both lock eyes and inhale, he lifts her, wrapping her legs around his torso, angling the head of his cock against her entrance.

He chokes on a breath, “Fuck-- oh fuck, you’re so wet.”

Penny nods, a little frantic, thrusting her fingers into his curls as if to steer him. “Listen to me. I need you to fuck me as hard as you can. Don’t hold back, baby. I wanna feel you. I wanna feel everything.”

Shawn’s eyes fall shut. He hears the volume of the groan he releases but he doesn’t remember allowing himself to make it. He shifts her in his arms until he slides in an inch or two. Her eyes close just as his reopen.

He follows the stroke through until he’s buried, brushing his nose against hers. She feels him, understands what he wants. She nods again, clenching her arms tighter around his shoulders.

With a loud gasp, Shawn tilts his hips, sliding all the way back as he holds her flat against the window, and presses back in harder. He hangs his head against her shoulder, establishing a slow, deep rhythm, flinching every time he hears her body squeezing around him greedily.

“Holy… shit,” he coughs, letting his tongue brush her collarbone as he picks up his pace, egged on by her bare heels digging into his ass.

Penny can’t fucking breathe. Her head bumps back against the window with each powerful stroke. Every row of his hips stretches her further. It’s like every thrust fills her so completely, there isn’t even room for oxygen in her lungs. She doesn’t care. She doesn’t think she needs it right now. She needs this.

“So… good,” she grunts, the sound throaty and weak. 

He’s not holding back, she can tell. She wasn’t sure if he could get here with her, if he trusted her, and himself, enough to let himself have this. But she knows he needs it. She thinks maybe they both do.

“Penny,” he sighs. His hips work faster. She scrunches her fingers in his hair.

“More,” she demands, but the whine in her voice gives it away as a plea.

“Fuck,” he swears, shaking his head in disbelief. He hitches her up in his arms as their sweaty bodies slip, and it changes the angle. Her fingers scrabble on his back, sinking in and dragging, leaving livid red marks as she clings to him against his mighty swings.

Her eyes glaze over, roll back slightly. “Oh god, yes!” she cries, turning her face to bury her nose in his hair and bite sharply at the shell of his ear.

He growls in a way she hasn’t heard from him. It’s rough, all animal, and she knows there’s nothing left in him that’s uncertain or anxious or self-conscious or scared. He holds her hips steady and pounds hard, relishing the slick squelch of their bodies and the protest of the window against her skin.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” she chants, holding on for dear life. It’s all she can do. She has no leverage to fuck back against him. He’s the one driving into her and, when he does, pressing her back to reach even deeper. She sobs for breath, soaking him as he ruts hard against her clit with every perfect, reckless stroke.

“Penny, shit,” Shawn moans, “Please, please, you have to come. I can’t fucking hold on.”

With a whine in her throat, she yanks at his hair to bring his eyes up to hers. The pupils are so dilated she can’t see any brown left. She focuses on the blackness and feels her walls spasm, so close she can taste it.

“Harder,” she hisses, daring him, keeping his head pinned between her hands.

His brow furrows. His tensed hands clench hard enough to bruise. He doesn’t have anymore to give, but she wants it, so he’s going to fucking give it to her. He groans, ass clenching as he forces himself deeper into her desperate, willing body until she gasps and breaks.

He’s never felt anything like it. She goes solid in his arms, every well-trained muscle hard as a rock, but her pussy trembles around him, holding him in. She massages his throbbing cock so thoroughly that Shawn loses his hold and comes right behind her, spilling into the condom with a scream. His hips keep thrusting shallowly, the rhythm holding steady long past when it usually does after he comes. It takes them both longer than usual to come down. 

When they do, even Shawn’s impressive strength is nearly gone. His knees tremble as he scoops her off the window and stumbles toward the bed, using his last bit of self-control to lay her down gently, his cock still nestled inside her pulsing walls.

She loosens her grip on his shoulders and hair, stroking instead of scraping. Her breathing steadies from gasps to perfect, mindless whimpers. He doesn’t think he’s breathing at all until she shifts beneath him and he hears himself whine, loud and unabashed.

He lifts his heavy head from her shoulder to look down at her. She’s smiling gently, still panting through her overfull lips. He barely stops himself from kissing her. He grins like a moron instead.

“Are you… ok?” he asks, his voice shaky. She nods.

He starts to pull his hips back. One of her legs, still slung around him, presses into his ass cheek as she makes a weak noise.

“Slowly,” she groans, brow furrowing. He bobs his head sheepishly and eases out, feeling the way her body resists the loss. It gives him a full body shiver.

He ties off the condom and lobs it into a trashcan by the bed. He reaches for her hip, cupping where his hands held her so tight.

“Are you… sure you’re ok?”

She makes a warm purring noise and closes her eyes. “You were so good, so perfect for me. I’ve never been fucked that hard before.”

This perks him up a bit. He smiles to himself and nudges closer to her on top of the bedspread, shutting his eyes.

“I’m gonna take a nap,” he whispers. 

She threads her fingers into his hair and pets his scalp until they’re both asleep, curled up beside each other.

+

He wants to hold her hand.

It’s a pretty sudden realization as she walks him back to his room. He’s pretty sure it’s because he’s never had a sexual experience like this in his life and he’s still fucking high from it, but it’s disconcerting, too. 

So he doesn’t hold her hand. He just glances over at her again, amazed she’s up and walking, especially after they went at it again (much less aggressively) after their nap. She smirks at him.

“I’m not a china doll, Shawn,” she assures him. He flushes a little.

“Yeah, no, I… sorry.”

She chuckles through her nose and glances up the long hallway to the door of his room. 

“I probably should’ve let you sleep,” she sighs, glancing down at her work phone, frowning at the time -- 6:11 AM.

Shawn shrugs. “I think I needed that more than sleep.”

They stop outside his door. He reaches for her, unsure of what he’s after, when the door next to his swings open.

Cez is looking down at his phone, dressed in gym wear, ready to go. He glances up and freezes, staring at Shawn and Penny.

Shawn’s mouth goes dry. His stomach lurches. He opens his mouth to speak.

“... anyway, I know I’m an asshole, it’s like, 6 AM and I’m definitely still super fucking drunk, but my friends will, like, murder me if I don’t get a selfie with you.”

Shawn stares at Penny for almost a beat too long. Her eyes are wide and manic. Her grin is toothy. Her voice doesn’t sound like hers at all. She even stumbles a little for effect. He swallows and nods.

“Yeah, ok.”

She slings an arm around him and holds up her phone, snapping the photo with a squeal.

“Okie! Byeeeee!”

Without a glance back at either of them, Penny hustles away, almost losing her balance even just in flip flops. Shawn’s sure she put it on as part of her little impromptu show.

He glances back at Cez, who snorts and shakes his head, seemingly unbothered.

“Went for another dawn walk?” Cez guesses.

Shawn blinks and nods, catching up. “Yeah. Gonna get changed and hit the gym, too.”

Cez nods and walks off, busy on his phone. Shawn lets himself into his room and doesn’t let himself exhale until the door clicks behind him.

+

Shawn Mendes SLAYS Night One of iHeart Summer Fest -- E!News

Shawn Mendes Surprises Vegas Fans With Bex Duet! -- The Hollywood Reporter

Shawn Mendes Commands Night One, Highlight of Inaugural iHeart Summer Festival -- Rolling Stone

+

His heart skips a beat like it does whenever La Splendeur calls, but this time it thuds even a little harder. He’s not sure why they’re calling him. He hasn’t made another booking yet. Hell, he hasn’t even left Vegas yet.

“Hello?”

“Hello, may I have your verbal password, please?”

“Ireland,” Shawn grunts, closing the door behind him as he steps onto his hotel room balcony.

“Excellent, thank you, Mr. Mendes. Miss Penny has requested that I leave you with her cell number for future bookings.”

His face is blank. “... She did?”

“Yes. It’s not uncommon practice. After a period of time, our employees often transition to arranging directly with preferred clients.”

Preferred clients. He really shouldn’t be blushing at that, but…

He puts the phone on speaker so he can type in her number, saving it under the name “Orthodontist” -- just in case.

+

Pamela thwaps her tail against the entryway carpet impatiently, but stays put when Penny opens the door for the delivery that the mysterious auction house called to arrange the previous day. Behind the door stands a tall gentleman in a well tailored suit, wearing a flat, polite grin.

“Miss Penny?”

Penny nods. “Yes.”

He gestures to the credenza beside her. She lets him in, clearing her throat uncertainly as she shuts the door behind him.

With his back to her, he lifts a briefcase onto the surface and pops it open. A familiar red leather box, much larger than the one she brought home from Vegas, sits inside.

He lifts it out and turns to her, presenting it as if for her inspection. She squares her shoulders and nods.

He lifts the lid. Penny’s knees turn to jello. Her eyes go wide as saucers. Her breath catches.

“Oh… my god.”

“Spectacular, isn’t it?” the man agrees enthusiastically. 

Inside the box is a diamond tennis necklace in a white gold setting with graduated stones. It has to be at least 12 carats total. And Penny’s no jeweler but she bets, especially given the way in which it was delivered, that the diamonds in the settings are nearly flawless.

“The certificate of authenticity is in this folder. As I’m sure you’ve already been told, the necklace is 1949 Cartier, handmade in France, designed by Frank Sinatra for Ava Gardner.”

She swears she’s going to pass out. She lifts a hand to her forehead and focuses on her breath so she doesn’t swallow her fucking tongue.

“I’m-- is there a note? Who sent this?”

The man looks startled, like he was quite certain Penny knew all about this gift. He hands her a piece of cardstock in a creamy envelope and packs his briefcase back up, leaving the red box on the credenza. Penny is scared to touch it.

She holds the card behind her in her twitching fingers. She cocks her head, staring at the necklace. Pamela settles beside her, brushing her leg with her big, furry head.

When Penny thinks she’s regained enough sense to read, she slides the card from the envelope.

‘Thank you

x, Shawn’

----------

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[scarofthewind]

PLEASE, Billy whose SO gained quite a bit of weight from school stress + a few nasty people bullying her. She loves Billy but thinks that he finds her repulsive so she wears baggy clothes and stops being as affectionate with him. Then one night he climbs into her room and she flinches when he puts his hands on her waist. He asks what's going on and she cries telling him everything. By the end, he goes: "You think I don't find you hot? Let me prove you wrong." Smuttiness and fluff ensue

A/N: There is nothing wrong with the way anyone looks. They are their own person and are beautiful in every way, shape and form. Hope you guys enjoy this! This is B in my masterlist under GhostfaceWarnings: Sexual Content (NSFW), Bondage. Female Pronouns

“Would you stop?” Billy’s hands left your sides as you scooted farther away from him on the couch. The movie on the TV being long forgotten about and a heavy emotion hanging in the air. 

“What’s your deal, Y/N? First you won’t look at me, then you won’t let me touch you in any way.” Billy frowned, his eyes watching you closely.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t feel good.” You lied, eyes glued straight ahead. There was a moment of silence before he spoke up again.

“You know I trust you. I fucking admitted to you who I was and what kind of person I was. I haven’t hurt you and I sure as hell haven’t let anyone else.” He moved to stand up and you looked at him then, pulling at the long sleeves of your baggy sweater. “But what’s the point if you keep shutting me out?” 

His eyes held something dark and for a moment you thought he might actually harm you. “Don’t talk to me until you’re ready too. If you don’t reach out to me in a week then I’ll come for you.” Suddenly, he moved closer and you flinched. “Don’t think that just because I care about you, means that I won’t rough you up a little.” 

Your eyes peered into his for a moment before he turned and walked out the front door. You cried yourself to sleep that night. Not out of fear, but out of shame that you couldn’t tell him. 

You couldn’t tell anyone. 

_

Once again, your locker was filled with trash, ruining everything inside. 

Once again, the group of assholes beat you up in the back parking lot.

Once again, you cried in the school bathroom and tried to hide the bruises and cuts with makeup. 

Once again, you didn’t go to classes for the rest of the day and walked home in the rain. 

However, as soon as you walked through the front door, you realized Billy wasn’t lying. He was always there at your house, but he wasn’t now. You didn’t see him at school either. A horrific scene ran through your mind and you cursed before dropping your bag and running out the door. 

He wouldn’t be that stupid would he? Billy wasn’t a dumb man, he knew. You knew he knew. You just didn’t know if he knew what they were bullying you about. That’s what you didn’t want him to know. 

Your feet ran across the sidewalk, leading you to the woods that surrounded a lake. That’s where the popular kids would go to skip class and do adult things. Your lungs burned and so did your eyes as you let a few branches scratch you as you ran. You didn’t stop until you saw the dock. 

Your legs shook and you let your tears fall. Standing a few feet away, Billy faced out towards the lake, cigarette between his fingers and a head in his other hand. You watched as he tossed the man’s head into the lake, and you realized just how much he had done. The police would have to play a matching game to figure out which body part went to what person. Blood covered the dock and you watched as Billy turned his head a bit to look back at you. 

Almost as if he commanded your legs to give out, they did. You fell on your hands and knees, heart beating so fast you thought you were going to faint. It had been only a few days since your last talk with him, but you felt that he was ready to rip you in half. 

You cried then. Billy watched with interest as he finished his cigarette and walked over towards you, hands stuffed in his pockets. He squatted in front of you and reached out to grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t like being lied to, Y/N.” 

“It took me having to watch them hurt you and tease you for four days straight before I snapped. Look at what you made me do.” He looked back at the lake and the water that was tinted red. His eyes met yours again and he wiped a few tears away with his thumb. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?” 

“I’m sorry.” You sniffled, watching as he nodded, pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back. 

“I know you are. You know I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I was going to find out, no matter what it took.” Billy could feel you shaking and he hoped that it was for both being cold and fear. 

He loved fear on you, it turned him on. 

“I couldn’t tell you. I was too embarrassed.” You sobbed as Billy rubbed your back. 

“Gaining weight only makes you look better and feel better. I’ve got more to touch now. Plus, I think you look healthier. If I cut you deeply, it wont kill you like how it killed the skinnier bitches. You barely touch them with a knife and you’ve stabbed right through them.” Billy heard you laugh a bit and he pulled back from the hug, resting his forehead against yours. 

“Does this mean we’re okay?” Your eyes stared into his. “Come home Billy.” The man nearly came in his pants at the whine of your voice when you spoke. He needed you and you needed him. 

Who was he to hold back from showing you how much he cared about you?

“You have three minutes to get to the house and lay on the bed. Naked or you’ll learn just how deep my love for you goes.” His voice changed in that second and you’ve never run so fast in your life. Busting through the front door, you ran to your room and faltered. The mirror across your room showed how much of a mess you looked. How ugly you looked. Fat.

Your fingers gripped at the bottom of the hoodie you wore and you couldn’t take it off. You didn’t even realize Billy was behind you until he roughly pushed you to the bed. 

“Stop.” He growled, staring down at you angrily. “You’re not fat, and you sure as fuck aren’t ugly.” 

You looked away from him and didn’t say anything, which only made him blow a fuse. Why were you acting like this? It was annoying him greatly and he couldn’t take it anymore. 

“You remember the safe word?” He asked, taking off his belt and tying your wrists to the  headboard of the bed. You nodded and he smirked. “It doesn’t apply to what I am about to do to you.” Billy said, siting on your hips and flicking out his pocket knife, cutting the hoodie off your body. 

Goosebumps rose all over your skin and your mind raced a mile a minute. What did he mean? The last time he said that, he nearly killed you with how much he kept going. “Billy.” You said, watching as he tossed the shredded clothing aside, not paying attention to you. “Billy!” You shouted and he looked up from cutting at the waistband of your sweatpants. 

“You don’t get to speak.” He sighed, rummaging through your bedside table and finding tape, cutting a piece off his this teeth and slapping it over your mouth. 

Your breathing quickened and he noticed. Your bra clad chest moved faster the more he got close to finishing. As soon as he took the sweats off and threw them to the floor, he stopped and looked you dead in the eye. You stopped breathing. 

“You’ve made me very angry, Y/N. It’s time to take responsibility.” He tossed the knife off the bed and kissed up your stomach, reaching behind you and unclasping your bra. “Look at that.” He groaned, cupping your bare breasts in his hands and running his thumbs over your nipples. “You went up a size here. Gaining weight has its perks.” 

You barely had time to register what he had said before you felt his mouth attach itself to one of your nipples, sucking and biting at it hungrily. His hands kneaded them gently and he switched between them, kissing up the middle and reaching your neck. You could feel his breath on your neck, hovering over your jugular vein. “You know you’re mine, right?” His eyes glared at you and you nodded slowly. 

“Do you trust me?” His question caught you off guard, causing you to move your head and look him directly in the eyes. “I think you’re the most beautiful and sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re not fat. You’re perfect and believe me when I say that.” 

You could only stare at him. Never had you heard him say these things to you in the time you’ve been together. You tried to open your mouth to speak but remembered that he’d taped your mouth shut. “I’m not taking it off.” He smiled bitterly at you. His hand moved down to your hips and then your underwear, slowly tugging them down. “I am taking these off though.” He laughed, sliding them down your legs and tossing them behind himself. 

“Spread them.” You let out a small laugh and refused, turning your head to the side. A rough hand gripped your chin, squeezing harshly and making you look at him. “What part of this makes you think you have a choice? Spread them or I will break them.” You blinked a few times before slowly opening your legs, watching him sit back and let your chin go. 

“Good girl.” His voice dropped as well as his eyes as his hands traced your legs, moving towards your soaking core. You ached for the touch he was going to give, your heart was on edge as you awaited his fingers. Billy smirked, removing himself from you and unzipping his pants. You watched him unclothe himself and cursed mentally, knowing where this was going. 

“Sorry babe but I can’t wait to be inside you.” He moaned, rubbing his tip against your opening, watching your juices mix together. He gently pushed himself inside you, his lips parting when he bottomed out. “Fuck you’re tight.” 

With a whimper from you, he started to move rocking his hips against you and setting a pace that would have you moaning louder with each thrust. His hands held your hips tightly as he thrusted into you roughly. Your eyes never left his body, watching his muscles flex under the skin as he pounded into you from above. He moved one hand from your hip to push some hair from his face and you felt yourself clench around his cock. Immediately he locked eyes with you and smirked.

Reaching down, he pressed his fingers to your clit, rubbing in tight, harsh circles. Billy watched your face and groaned, feeling you tighten around his shaft. He didn’t have to ask, he knew you were close. His eyes met yours and he grit his teeth, holding himself back from coming undone. “Come for me.” He hissed, watching as your back arched off the bed and your legs clenched around his waist. 

“Fuck.” Billy growled, coming with a few more thrusts, pumping his seed into you and gripping your hips, bruising them. 

You panted, your eyes seeing stars as he continued his powerful thrusts. Your arms hurt from hanging above your head for so long and you were sure that you were going to die if he kept going. Soft whimpers left your throat and you looked at Billy with pleading eyes. 

“I’m not even close to being done with you, Y/N. I’m going to fuck the negative thoughts about yourself right out of you.” Billy stared down at you and slowly removed the tape from your mouth. 

You couldn’t say anything, your thighs trembled against his skin and you felt your face heat up under his gaze. “I love you.” You mumbled, your breathing calming down. Billy came to a full stop and bent over to kiss you. 

“I know.” He hummed against your lips, reaching up and untying your wrists, pulling you to sit in his lap. No matter how long he wanted to keep going for, you were okay with it in the end as long as it meant he could hold you like this forever. 

#Billy Loomis #billy loomis x reader #scream #horror x reader #slasher imagines #[✉️].request #😈.smut