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ilovelifeandiwanttotalkaboutit · 1 year

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Ryan Tedder Imagine:

🌶️ Honey Pt 2: Ryan Tedder x Reader Insert

Summary: Now that you two have officially done the deed, fear and humiliation falls a bit after. After discussing it, it seems it's time to play a little game. Which one of you will be the first to cave? Enjoy ;)

Warnings: Minors dni or I'll turn you into a goblin, implied age gap (still legal tho babes), inexperienced reader, oral male receiving, heavy teasing, technically period sex (tho I don't describe it during cause no one wants that), mirror female fingering, passionate missionary PIV

Word Count: 10,343

Link to Ryan Tedder Masterlist

My heart still managed to flush even though my body was exhausted. As I crawled to the bedside, taking his hand, I'm surprised when I stood that my knees wobbled out from under me. The sensation stemmed straight from between my thighs, and it almost had me laughing. Well, I smirked a little.

And it definitely had him smirking too.

Ryan caught me and said with a knowing tone, "Everything alright?"

"Shut up," I insisted, making him chuckle.

He walked with me, hand-in-hand to the bathroom. He warned me before turning on the light, but it still had me squinting. Now with the both of us in full light, I glanced at us in the mirror and felt myself blush incredibly. Now that my buzz from my orgasm had died off, I became hyper aware of the slickness between my thighs; all from lube and my own substances. I could see that my hair was still slightly damp and had dried weird in a lot of spots. My neck and breasts had several hickeys on them. Not to mention, my lips were red, puffy, and a little chapped.

I catch Ryan looking at me watching myself in the mirror after he turns on the shower, and he only smirks a little. It's devious.

I made eye contact with him in the reflection and briefly glanced over his body. His perfect chest and stomach, skin tanned and not a single blemish. Arms tattooed in different spots. I was almost annoyed that I managed to not make a single mark on him. Other than his hair sticking up wildly from me touching it and his lips gently puffed from me kissing them, he had no other signs.

"Cat got your tongue?" he smirked at me in the reflection, coming to stand next to me.

"No," I insisted, tilting my jaw up to reveal another hickey I missed observing seconds ago. Spotting it made him almost prouder.

He moved behind me slightly, brushing some of my hair behind my left ear before placing his lips next to it, saying softly, "What's the matter?"

Seeing him interact with me this way in the mirror was stirring something else inside of me, but the buzzing sensation in my legs reminded me that my body was truly tired. His eyes met mine in the mirror as his hands came around my waist, waiting for my answer.

"You've left all these marks on me, and I haven't left a single one on you," I say gently.

He smiled a little, humming before placing a kiss behind my ear, still watching me in the mirror. "That's not really true."

Ryan's fingers slip off my waist and he turns, letting me see his back. My lips part, seeing spots from my fingernails and where they dug into him a few times. I didn't draw blood, but they were still splotched and red.

"Oh," I say, my fingers tentatively reaching out to touch them. Ryan looks at me with the same expression on his face, shaking his head.

"It's alright," he says softly, picking up my fingers with his and bringing them to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on them. "You bruise easily, sweetheart. Take it as a compliment."

I feel my cheeks flush red once more as we both step into the warm shower. He pulled me in with him, fingers tracing my waist as we stepped under the water together. Shower sex hadn't even crossed my mind until now.

He shut his eyes gently as he tilted his head back, wetting his hair. I watched the water trickle down his perfect skin, past his collarbone and down his chest. What the hell did I do to deserve watching this?

He was an absolute treasure to be able to interact with, and now we've made out in his hot tub, in the hallway, had sex, and are now taking a shower together. So again, my thoughts tumbled and dried staring at the beauty of his man who was holding me so dearly to him, touching me sweet and simple as if he hadn't touched me intimately just minutes ago.

My eyes dart away when he's suddenly looking down at me. I turn to look at the shampoo, chewing on my inner cheek. He gently rotated us, stepping out of the stream so I could get a turn. I rewet my hair, my fingers coming up to help get underneath my neck. I feel his hands on me again, gently on my waist, almost slippery. A new sweet scent comes to my nose, and I see he's covered his palms in body soap, beginning to slide and rub it into my skin. We both stood partially out of the water now, and I finally looked up into his eyes.

His slate blue eyes are staring down at me, his lips pushed into his usual focused pout. I put some of the same body wash into my hands. I begin to rub my palms over his arms, slipping and lathering the soap up to his shoulders. As I feel his shoulders underneath my touch, the firmness of them, I get the sudden urge to squeeze them and try to give him a massage. Although, he's making it difficult as his hands slip around the small of my waist and onto my back, pulling me flush against him. My heart leaps as he pressed his lips down to mine, hands rising up my back with the soap.

I kissed him back, feeling the water hitting our shoulders. The kiss was more passionate than needy. It didn't feel like it was going places like our others had been earlier tonight. Although I enjoyed kissing him a lot, I backed away a little, and his grip on me loosened. He gently opened his eyes, looking at me with a slight question.

"Turn around," I whisper.

His hands trailed my waist and he raised an eyebrow, placing one more quick peck on my lips before he let go of me completely. Ryan turned himself around, and I brought my hands back towards his shoulders, smiling to myself with slight relief as he relaxed into my touch. I began to put more pressure on his shoulders with my thumbs, gently digging around and pressing them in the best spots I could.

I see his body relax and he sighs, head beginning to hang a little. He pressed his hand against the wall to steady himself

He straightened his spine and leaned into me. "That feels really nice."

I continued my motions, then pressing down and massaging my fingers across his shoulder blades, making him sigh. Then I gently came down his spine, rubbing my thumbs from the sides of the spine and out. When I reached the middle of his waist, he placed his right hand over mine, then his left over my other. He pulled me towards him, wrapping my arms around him, my hands to his hard chest. I had my chest pressed against his back now, my cheek between his shoulder blades.

He used my hands briefly over his own, rubbing the soap up his chest and across his stomach. I turned my head and placed a kiss over one of the marks I put on him earlier.

Ryan let go of one of my hands and let me loose on one side to turn towards me yet again. He seemed almost annoyed, or angry. Yet, he brought his hands below my jaw and brought my face to his, kissing me deeply.

"God," he spoke between kisses, "you're absolutely intoxicating."

I held my breath as he brought me towards the hot stream, pushing me back into it. Water fell on our faces now for a moment, but our lathered bodies were now being rinsed off. We kissed feverishly, his hands tracing my butt and eventually giving it a squeeze.

As however caught up I am in the moment, I feel something hot and familiar drip out of me, and it makes me furrow my brows with concern. Suddenly, I'm feeling really out of the moment. I know the sensation unfortunately well, and the fear that probably caught in my posture made me pray. Please, tell me what I think happened didn't actually happen.

I take one of my hands off his chest and try to subtly feel myself. I managed it quickly without him noticing and opened my eyes for the first time kissing him. In my peripherals, I see my fingers are crimson.

I broke the kiss and felt so embarrassed. I'm obviously going to have to tell him. It's not something I can hide.

He sees the nervous look in my eye and backs enough away immediately, hands resting on either side of my waist. "What's wrong?. Are you okay?"

"Uh..." I lick my lips, quickly rinsing my fingers off in the shower. He follows my eyes unfortunately and watches pink drizzle down the drain. His eyes gaze back into mine then down my body. I turned my head down and saw a line of blood that dripped down my left leg and was puddling at my feet.

I couldn't help the tears that well in my eyes and my face burned with deep embarrassment. "I'm so sorry. I was worried this was going to happen--"

"Are you alright?" He asks tentatively, then, "You're not..."

"No, no," I say, half dismissively. I covered my face with my hands momentarily before scooting him out of the shower head so I could rinse off my legs. "I'm so sorry; this is so embarrassing--"

"No, it's not," he insists, running a hand through his hair. "I... I should have been actually thinking. I should have known better."

"Some girls bleed after their first time," I mutter. "And of course, I have to be one of them."

"It's not something you should be embarrassed about," he said carefully. "Do you... Do you have supplies or anything? I can find something if you don't."

"Yeah, I do," I nod, quickly rinsing the rest of the soap off my body before scooting past him before any more blood came out of me. I couldn't believe this was actually happening. I wanted to implode. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, you don't have to apologize," Ryan says steadily, "It is okay."

I was thankful he owned dark gray towels instead of white ones. There was only one, however, so when I took it off the rack, I made a note to bring him his own. I briefly dried my legs before wrapping my body in the towel, face red and almost tears in my eyes.

"I'll be right back," I stutter, walking with my thighs clenched as if it would help. My legs were exhausted and my hips were sore now that I was properly trying to walk around. I quickly made it to the hall closet and grabbed another towel, going back to his room.

I hear the water shut off, and I grit my teeth as I show my face once more. He's peeing out of the shower door, an almost deer-caught-in-the-headlights look to him. I hand him the towel, to which he says thank you, and I'm right back out the door again.

I'm thankful; I brought a couple of pads with me just in case. The hypochondriac in me wondered if the stress of being alone with Ryan would be enough to start my period early. This was a little different, but it was still circumstantial. I dried myself off once I got to my room, shutting the door behind me.

Once I'm dressed in another set of fresh lounge wear, I find myself still almost in tears. Wanting to die of embarrassment, I restrain myself from screaming into one of the pillows on the bed. Now that he wasn't next to me, I felt as if I was thinking for the first time. What the fuck did we do?

I glanced around my room, my phone plugged into the wall. I briefly thought about texting someone, anyone, about what to do, but I didn't move. No one can know what we did. This is just supposed to be between us. This was a secret. This was a secret I would be taking to the grave.

I felt like I was choking. I spot my bottle of water on my bedside table and practically dove for it. I force myself to take calming deep breaths and try to pull myself together.

I flinch when there's a small knock on my door.

Ryan softly calls my name through the door, "I know you probably want to be alone right now, but I just wanted you to know that I've had much worse happen, and this really isn't a big deal. I don't think less of you, or think you're… you know, gross, or anything--"

I open the door and see him on the other side, dressed in a black T-shirt and another pair of sweats as well. In his hands were my folded pair of clothes that he took off of me less than an hour ago. He was looking at me with shy eyes as I took them, thanking him in a whisper.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

I give a small nod, then a bit of a shrug. My clothes feel cold in my hands and my throat feels dry. "I'm just… I'm just thinking. That's all."

He gives a nod of understanding, eyes glancing at the floor before gesturing behind him. "Can we talk about it?"

I toss the folded clothes on the corner of the bed and sweep my usual sweatshirt off the floor. As I follow him back down the hallway and towards the living room, I slip it over my head, the smell of my laundry from home making me feel more calm and comforted.

I settled into an end of the couch, as did he. I sat with my feet tucked in beside me, placing a pillow on top of my knees. I looked at him expectantly, hoping maybe he would start. Surely, he understood what I was so pent up about.

"So," he begins, "Tell me what you're thinking."

I begin to gather my thoughts, trying to sort them. The heaviness in my chest now was suffocating me. "Well," I cleared my throat, "now I'm just... worried, I guess."

"Worried?" he repeated.

I leaned my head against the back of the couch and squeezed my eyes shut. "Well, it's like the same sort of guilty feeling I got outside after we kissed in the hot tub. Sort of the 'what the fuck did we just do?' sort of guilt. Surely, you feel it too."

"Guilty and worried are both two different things," he says softly, "but I understand."

I shook my head and opened my eyes, staring up at the ceiling. "Because I mean, seriously. What the fuck did we just do? How did it fall apart so fast? One second I was holding myself and then it all fell apart... how?"

"What parts of this are making you feel the most guilty?" he clarified, "because maybe we can do something about it? Or at least address them."

The way he phrased the question made me almost a little irritated. I turned my head towards him and couldn't help but ask, "Do you not feel any sort of guilt? None at all?"

"The only thing that's making me regret it is how it's making you feel now," he says honestly. "I don't like that you're feeling this way. Since it can't be undone, I want to help. Well, I want to try and help."

Tears burned in my eyes, but I remained focused to keep them at bay.

"I felt guilty when I first started properly having feelings for you," he admitted quietly, playing with the frayed ends of a pillow. "I obviously didn't want to because of our circumstances. That, and it felt... you know, a little immature."

I nodded, holding my breath momentarily when I wiped away my eyes.

"But what we just did, it made me feel different. Different in a way that I haven't felt in a really long time," he says, "And that's not to say that that outweighs any feelings you have. I'm an idiot for not taking them into account."

"You took them into account the entire time, Ryan, don't say that like this is all your fault," I say softly. "You consistently asked me throughout the whole experience if I was alright and if I wanted to go through with it. I did."

"Yeah, but..." he gave a small sigh, "I shouldn't have even started this. I really shouldn't have. I'm sorry."

"Well, imagine what would have happened if you hadn't done anything," I say, thinking out loud. "We'd both probably be in bed right about now, tossing and turning over pent up feelings."

"We'd both be?"

I blinked slowly and turned my head towards him. My anxiety was now swimming through the roof. My cheeks turned pink. He'd already admitted to having feelings for me, but I never said anything about me for him.

I stood and started pacing towards the kitchen, still tears burning in my eyes.

"Where are you going?" he watched me.

"Making hot chocolate," I say, taking out a large liquid measuring up. "Want one?"

He gets up from the couch, "No, I'll make myself a tea."

"Okay," I murmured, taking the milk from the fridge.

We both individually began making our beverages, silence falling between us. He turned on the kettle and leaned against the counter, watching me pour a cup and a half of milk into the measuring cup and set it in the microwave for a few minutes. As I found the sugar and the cocoa, I avoided his gaze, feeling him looking at me. I gave the small shake of my head as a tear fell down my cheek. As I turned away, I wiped it, but it quickly got replaced.

My name falls from his lips in a slight coo, just making me feel that much worse.

My fingers were shaking now, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. I felt Ryan come closer, his hands falling on my upper arms. I sighed and dropped the tablespoon measure into the cocoa. He turned me in his arms and pulled me closer to him. My damp eyes made contact with his shoulder and I slipped my arms around his waist. I managed to hold back a sob.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

He made a small disproving noise, holding one hand flat against my back which the other cradled my head. I took a deep breath, my nose pressed against his shirt. He smelled clean and fresh and comforting, but all the same, it still made me want to cry.

"I feel like such an idiot," I sniffed, backing away enough to wipe away my tears. He let go of me, but remained close, his thumb tracing my cheek as another tear fell.

"I... I never thought I would ever put myself in this position," I mutter, taking another few deep breaths. I couldn't stand to look him in the eye, especially when I felt like I was admitting the world away. "I didn't think about how it would make me feel. I didn't care. I'm so... I'm so frustrated with myself."

He still didn't speak, letting me go on.

"Just..." I squeezed my eyes shut, almost wishing to be home. "What happens now? We still have another four days here-- we didn't even last three days without something happening. What's supposed to be next?"

"I think," Ryan paused, choosing his next words carefully. "We both knew this wasn't going to last forever, right? This isn't... We aren't going to be permanent. We can't make anything out of this."

I began nodding, feeling my heart tear in half, but knowing it was the truth. "Yes, I know."

"Then," his fingers lingered on my arms, "I say, for right now, we don't need to worry about it. We just... continue on. We'll write that song and focus back on having a good time like before. Then after the trip... I don't know, we can figure it out. We can talk about it anytime."

His words calmed me a lot, and I finally looked up at him. He had a serious expression on his face, eyebrows furrowed and lips gently pursed.

"Okay," I whisper, wiping the rest of my tears away. He was right. I really didn't have to worry. This was our choice, and we were going to make it what we will.

I took yet another deep breath, "Thank you."

He then smiled softly, lifting my chin with his finger a little. When I thought he was going to kiss my lips, he instead placed the kiss on my forehead. My eyes had drifted shut for a second, my chest swirling again with excitement. Damn him for making me feel this way. He sighed a little, running his hands only once more down my arms before backing away.

"We'll figure it out," he whispered.

The aroma of his soap began to disappear as he drifted away from me, back to the other side of the kitchen counter where he continued to lean. I found my body wavering after his touch, stumbling the littlest bit to catch myself.

My eyes drift to the floor. I'm still frustrated. Although, now it's less with myself and more with what just happened. It was stupid that I wanted him to kiss me still. All the sweet touches, even having him stand right against me felt like something. Anything.

Then, I hear him begin to laugh.

I peer at him annoyed, "What?"

He had his mouth covered with his fingers, slumping over for a moment when he tried to catch his laughter. He had shrugged and tried to assume the normal posture, but failed to do so without a grin.

"What?!" I ask again.

"Nothing!" He claims, still smirking to himself as he glanced over at me, "You're just like a touch starved little puppy, that's all."

As I flatten my lips into a line, knowing it was damn true, he began to laugh again. Then, I found myself giggling a little too. My eyes were still damp with the old tears, but I felt a lot better. I chuckled and wiped my eyes, looking at him finding amusement in me.

"Be nice," I said. I didn't really feel that bad since I knew it was true. "I know it's pathetic."

"It's not pathetic," He calmed down some, crossing his arms and looking at me, still smiling, "I think it's sweet."

"Great," I nod, beginning to be sarcastic, "You think it's sweet to be touch starved and pathetic. That's cool, I guess."

"I said it's not pathetic," he turned towards me, placing one hand on the counter. The stance made my breath hitch for a moment. Looking at his fingertips on the counter then letting my gaze travel up his arm. It was stupid how it made my heartbeat faster. Then, I make eye contact with him. I think nothing of it until I notice the side of his mouth turn upwards.

I feel a little embarrassed that I'd been so obvious.

"You're cute checking me out, you know?" He says a little louder, making any smile I had hidden that much more apparent. My cheeks burned heavily and I forced my eyes back to the floor.

"I'll tell you what?" he starts. "If there's anything else you want to do while we're here for the next four days, then I want you to be in charge of them."

I thought about it for a moment, then tilted my head, "Be in charge of them?"

"Take charge," he says with a slight determined nod, "If there's something you want from me, get it. Say it. Do it."

I began to feel excited over his words, but also very anxious. "You want me to make all the first moves?"

He nodded. "I'm not going to make a single move first. I understand your thoughts a little better now, sweetheart. I know you have the confidence to do something if you wanted to."

I didn't really like the idea of every move from here on being my call. He had a lot of faith in me. As long as I'd known myself, I let myself believe that I had the confidence of a piece of seaweed.

"So... you're not gonna kiss me or anything unless I do it first?" I ask tentatively.

He began to smile. "Essentially, yeah."

I pry my brain for any move that I could try to do that wouldn't end with me dying in embarrassment. Maybe if I said something crazy enough, I wouldn't have to pull any glamorous first move at all. My mind began spinning with a mischievous new idea.

"Does the first move have to be physical?" I questioned slyly.

He seemed curious. "How can the first move not be physical?"

"For example," I got myself off the edge of the counter and began coming towards him. I waited until I was only a few steps away. He straightened himself up, and I saw a fierce playfulness in his eyes as he let me strut until I'm nearly chest to chest with him. His hands remained on the counter behind him, but his body leaned towards me a little. Very quickly I realized, maybe I had more confidence than I thought because the next words out of my mouth were some of the dirtiest I'd ever said. "What if I told you that I want you to take off all my clothes and turn me around and fuck me right against this kitchen counter?"

I saw his breath hitch and he licked his lips, looking down at me. The tension between us now was killer. I watched his eyes darken, searching mine.

"Or if I told you to take a seat on the couch and that you weren't allowed to touch me as I rode you?" I added, images coming to mind of literally any situation. What I was saying was clearly bugging him as he shifted and swallowed hard. "Or, what if I told you I wanted you to screw me in front of a mirror so I could watch you do it to me?"

He seemed to be breathing very deeply. Ryan's eyes stared down into mine, almost as a warning as I was playing a very, very dangerous game. Our lips were so close. His eyes were half lidded, his breath fanning across my lips, them parting as I let myself get so close to him.

I found myself smirking deviously at him as I backed away. I watched his eyes widen and he leaned forward to follow me, stopping at a few inches. I walked backwards, returning to my original space next to my cocoa. I dropped the seductive tone, speaking normally, but still quietly. "Things like that. What would happen then?"

"What do you mean?" His voice was lower and quieter than it was before.

I propped myself up on the counter, continuing to make my cocoa mix as the milk I put in the microwave finished heating a little while ago. "I'm just saying, I can insinuate things all I want, and if we're playing by your rules, you can't do them to me unless I kiss or touch you first."

There was a hit of silence, then a small chuckle from him. I turned my head, expressing a knowing look. In the light coming in from the living room, I can see his cheeks are bright pink and I spot another obvious problem poking from his sweatpants.

"Problem?" I asked, being an ass on purpose.

His eyes flashed by mine, the amusement slowly fading away. "What if I told you this isn't how we are going to play?"

I still measure out my cocoa, my heart secretly racing but praying my face doesn't show it. My plan might work wonders after all. "And... what do you mean?"

"We've been here for only three days, and I'm sure you would just love to rub it in that I can't handle myself around you," he says in a lower tone, his fingers barely grazing the counter as he begins walking towards me. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, coming closer and closer. "So... you know how long I can last," he says, making my fingers go numb and I set the cocoa back down beside me. He was now standing in front of me, trapping my body between him and the counter with both his hands. The temptation to spread my legs so he could be even closer was almost killing me. "But my question is, sweetheart," he whispered, leaning in close by my ear, making a heat pool between my legs again. "How long can you?"

My lips parted and I watched him as he hovered in front of me. I pressed my thighs together and shifted only a little, but it made him smirk.

"I would love to rip those clothes off you and flip you around, leaving you nothing but the counter to grip onto as I fuck you," he murmured, giving me heavy eye contact. The heat between my legs got worse, and I tried my best to think of other things. "I would love to sit down on that couch in the living room with you on top of me. However, there's no way in hell you're getting me not to touch you."

I swallowed hard, cheeks and neck burning.

"And I would love to fuck you in front of a mirror, you sitting on my lap, legs spread, eyes glazed over as I make you come again and again," he mumbled. I nearly let out a small gasp when his lips accidentally brushed against mine when he spoke. "And the pretty sounds you would make, watching me fuck you with my fingers. Your words begging me for more."

I couldn't help but imagine everything he had said. My heart now was begging me for some relief again. Even though I knew my body was tired from before, I wanted more.

No, I needed more.

He was now enjoying watching me internally struggle. I wanted him so bad, but I didn't want to lose. We both didn't want to lose. We were fighting each other. But what was really going to be lost?

As soon as our lips brushed again, my brain was spinning, but I forced myself to lean back. He still hasn't touched me. My fists were clenched and my legs were shut, but he still stood in front of me, hands on either side of my hips on the counter. He was waiting for me to lose it.

He opened his blue eyes and looked at me with lust.

"Ryan," I finally found my voice.

He whispered back my name, our eyes half lidded in anticipation.

He started slowly leaning towards me again, but I gathered every bit of strength and I had to back away. He looked at me now, patiently, almost as if he knew he was about to win.

The next words out of my mouth were the best I could come up with.

"Your water is done boiling for your tea," I mumble.

He blinks, making the slowest of movements to back away. He falters almost, looking as if he wants to forget about the game and just lean in and kiss me anyway.

Then, he takes a deep inhale, nodding a little bit. He pushes himself off the counter, his presence leaving my vicinity. I finally felt like I could breathe, but I was most definitely still hot and bothered. I felt for a moment that I couldn't unpress my thighs together. I watched him back up, seeing his length even clearer now in his pants. He was struggling just as much, if not more than me.

"Thank you," he manages to say.

When he turns his body, beginning to fix his tea, I slump down. I force myself off the counter, heart absolutely racing. Although I had done the same thing to him, what he just did to me felt like anarchy in comparison.

I wiped some sweat off my upper lip, going over to the microwave and getting my hot milk out. I needed a mug, which was in the cabinet above where he was now busying himself. I slowly came to his side, arms grazing one another as I lifted up on my tiptoes to get a mug. I feel his stance stiffen.

He had his mug in front of him, pouring hot water out of the kettle into it. I put the cocoa mix and sugar into the measuring cup, beginning to whisk it. We were completely silent. I didn't even want the hot chocolate anymore. I was craving something else. My brain couldn't stop thinking about it.

Especially with him beside me, his intoxicating scent. I stirred, longing to feel him and for him to feel me.

The silence between us was absolutely deafening. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, my breathing feeling like it wasn't mine. My legs stung and I chewed hard on my inner cheek. Holy shit, I really wanted him bad.

I find myself looking at his hands, watching him open the box of tea and grab a bag. I observed the tendons move in his arm as his fingers opened the small packet. When he dropped the little tea bag into his mug, his hands rested on the counter. I gulped when I suddenly realized I had slowly stopped whisking. Now, he was watching me.

But I couldn't move.

My brain lulled me into a certain state. I wanted to turn my head, lean into him and press my lips on his. I craved something yet again, beyond my control.

I slyly began to raise my gaze up his arm. When I'd reached his face, he was doing the exact same thing. We were indirectly searching for each other. A part of me felt as if it were on fire. He wanted me too. He really wanted me too.

Then, at the same exact moment, our hands came off the counter and on each other. I placed mine on the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to me and he gripped the edges of my sweatshirt, pulling me to his body.

Our lips clashed against one another. The sensation again twisted in my knees and made me weak. Explosions occurred in my chest, being released. We grabbed at each other, having forgotten about our hot beverages as he walked us backwards towards the kitchen island. The next thing I know, his hands come under the backs of my thighs, lifting me upwards and back onto the counter.

As he pressed himself against my heat, I could feel his erection rubbing up against me. I moan into his mouth as his thumb kneads me through my sweatpants. I leaned into his touch, grinding my hips in circles with him. But through the sensation, I remember the women's hygiene products I was wearing and gave a small frown in the kiss, my mind swirling. I wanted him so badly, but knew it wasn't going to be clean.

I forgot all about it.

I got a different idea, scooting myself further forward on the counter as his hands wrapped around me. I take one of my hands down his body, past his chest and his stomach, then down to his groin. He groaned into my mouth when I felt his length, rubbing.

I slid myself further off the counter, him catching me immediately and almost not giving me the room to hit the ground. His hands groped me in ways I wished would never stop.

But I knew if I was going to do what I was going to try to do, my nerves were building, and I would need him to stop touching me like this. I found my way in being dominant. I slipped my tongue from his mouth and tilted his face gently away from me, diving my lips to his neck. I kissed his stubble, working my way underneath his ear and down his neck. I briefly sucked on a spot, the small whimper that passed his lips right next to my ear giving me life as he squeezed my waist. Then, I slightly showed my teeth and gave a small bite. Nothing that would hurt.

He groaned now, his body pressing me harder into the counter. He chuckled and said, "God, I love it when you do that."

I smiled into his skin, still placing kisses and raising my hands underneath his shirt to feel his stomach and waist. His hands were simply wrapped around me, enjoying what I was doing to him. I raised my hands higher on his chest, breaking off the kiss to take off his shirt. He raised his arms and let me do so, and as soon as it was ditched to the ground, my lips were back on his neck, kissing downwards. I left hot open mouth kisses to his chest, past one of his nipples which made a small noise escape his throat, then began down his stomach. I had to press against him to get myself off the counter as I came lower and lower to my knees. When my lips kissed his stomach, I momentarily backed away to look up at him. I gazed at his beautiful eyes through my lashes, my fingers wrapping in the band of the elastic around his sweatpants.

I see him visibly gulp as he reaches down and brushes some of my hair back behind my ear. "Are... Are you sure you want to?"

I lick my lips and nod, only pulling down his sweatpants, leaving me to look at the large print in his underwear. "I'd like to try."

"Okay," he sighed, eyes rolling shut as he felt my breath on him. "Holy shit."

As I observe him, I reach a hand out and begin rubbing him through his underwear, making his hips twitch towards me. I gather an idea and I slow my motions down, and he looked almost painstakingly back down at me, begging me to do more with his eyes.

"Tell me, darling," I cooed, continuing to rub him, the words he said to me earlier forever printed in my mind. "What do you like?"

He smiles suddenly, his other hand running through my hair to take hold of it. "Oh, so this is how this is going to be?"

I smirk, teasing the elastic of his underwear. "Tell me what you like, honey."

I visibly see him twitch when I call him that, making me grin wider. His fingers are massaging my scalp as I continue to rub him. As I gaze up at him, a sigh passes his lips. I'm patiently waiting for him to answer.

"I..." He dampens his lips, "I'll tell you what to do. Just be gentle with your teeth, alright?"

I feel myself salivating, nerves growing but confidence forcing to be built. I began to tug his underwear down, the words imprinted in my mind that drove me almost crazy when he said them to me.

"I'll see what I can do to you," I say in a lower tone, giving him a testing gaze up.

His lips part into a mischievous smile, dark eyes watching me bring his underwear to the floor. I bring more saliva towards the front of my mouth, trying to be strategic and smart about this. I gently took his length around my hand and guided it towards my mouth, giving a testing lick to the tip with my tongue. He mewled to my touch as I opened wider and began to very slightly suck, being careful with my teeth just like he asked me to.

His fingertips pressed onto my scalp, taking fistfuls of my hair and groaning rather loudly. "Fuck."

I took him out of my mouth and began licking down his shaft, placing several kisses as I went, rubbing him with my hand. I gazed up at him, watching with a hint of confidence in seeing that he took a hand off of me to place it on the counter behind me. Ryan was leaning, looking down at me with his eyebrows furrowed. I remember exactly what he looked like when he came earlier that night. I wanted him to look like that again. I wrap my lips around him again, beginning to suck him deeper into my mouth and almost to the back of my throat.

His eyes lazily blinked and looked upward as I saw his chest heave with a moan. His grip on my hair became ever so tighter as he began to guide my head closer to him. His voice was hoarse, "Just like that, beautiful."

I love the praise he gives me, rubbing my hand on the amount I can't fit in my mouth and continuing to suck on him. When I need some air, I pull away and he lets me. I rub the spit I left near his tip further down his length, looking up at his reaction.

I spot his hips twitch and his breath hitches for a moment. He is gazing down at me with his lips parted, and they tilt upwards with a smile as he chuckles, "Fuck, honey, you're going to make me come if you keep looking up at me like that."

I find a smile stretching on my lips as I blink innocently up at him, still rubbing his cock at a more vigorous rate. He twitched into me again, whimpering as he regripped the edge of the counter.

"Good," I purr, placing more hot kisses down his shaft that makes him groan, "I want to see you come for me."

Just when I was about to put him back in my mouth, I screeched instead when his hands were placed on my shoulders and he pulled me to my feet. The noise that escapes me is muffled by his lips. I moan a little when his tongue is in my mouth. It feels so empowering what we're doing. I'm completely clothed and he's completely naked. I felt like for two seconds, I had the upper hand.

I did wonder, however, why he brought me up? My hand traveled to his stiff cock as I was going to continue to rub him, but he twitched and his hand was wrapped around my wrist to stop me.

He breaks away from the kiss, and I open my eyes with perplexity. Had I done something wrong?

"I don't want to come just yet," Ryan says against my lips, taking my breath away as he steps away from me, curling my hand in his.

He was whisking me away out of the kitchen and back down the familiar hallway.

"What are we doing?" I ask, finding my voice slightly graveled.

He begins leading me back to his room, briefly stopping by the hall closet to grab a fresh towel. Needless to say, it made me a little nervous that he was grabbing a towel. But those nerves prickled excitement onto my skin. Were we going to make a mess?

"I can't stop thinking about you and the mirror," he admits, taking us into his room. When he lets go of my hand tenderly, he lays out the towel on the base of the bed, turning swiftly to begin dragging the full length mirror out from the corner of the room. I hadn't even noticed the damn thing, and it made me blush heavily.

"Can we do this?" Ryan comes back towards me, taking my hands in his. Then his fingers trace my jaw as he leans down and presses a kiss to my lips. "I know you're still probably bleeding. That's what the towel is for."

It all clicks for me now.

I press my lips briefly against his as well, pulling up the bottom of my sweatshirt and shirt all in one go. Ryan smiled and bit his bottom lip, taking me by the bare waist backwards towards the bed. As I brought my thumbs into my sweatpants, he stopped me. He took a seat on the towel, hands on my hips to turn me away from him. I was now looking at myself in the mirror, watching his hands on my hips. That same fuzzy feeling I got in the bathroom came back. I was completely soaked and excited again at the possibilities.

"Watch me," he whispers, ever so slowly beginning to pull my sweats down. I observe my naked body as I step out of my sweatpants and underwear. His hands traced up the outsides of my thighs, then wrapped around my hips to pull me back towards him.

His legs were spread, and I could feel his hard length pressing against my back. I gave a small sigh and leaned my head briefly back on his shoulder. I turned my head to try and kiss him, however, he just smirked and one of his hands turned my head back forward.

"Eyes on the mirror, sweetheart," he cooed, placing a hot kiss on my neck. My eyes almost drifted shut, but I watched him. One hand rested flat against my stomach, the other came to my knee, pulling me up and spreading my legs wide open for me to see myself.

I watched his hands all over me, lips attached to my neck and shoulder. I find my first low moan when his right hand begins traveling downward past my mound and his middle and ring finger begin to slowly rub my clit. I reach up behind me and put my hand in his hair, resting my head back more as he rubs me in slow deep circles.

"That's my girl," he purred, the praise making me whine a little. "Such a good girl. Watch yourself come undone for me."

I tug on a section of his hair and I feel his body slightly shift behind mine. His fingers trail down my clit and towards my wetness. As he feels me, he hums into my shoulder, placing hot, open mouthed kisses. Then suddenly, I watch his middle and ring finger dip inside me, making me gasp and shudder. I can see in the mirror that he's rather proud of himself, a smirk tugging on his lips.

I blink so slowly, watching in our reflection as his fingers sink into me. I bring my bottom lip between my teeth, leaning my temple against his own with a fistful of his hair. The sensation was already making me feel so much pleasure. His digits began moving faster, his other hand moving up my stomach over my breast, squeezing. I breathe out a moan, making eye contact with him in the mirror that made me squirm.

"Does that feel so good, honey?" he says quietly, his tone low. My thighs twitch and I can feel an orgasm coming in at the base of my stomach. My core burned for it, and his fingers curled ever so slightly and hit the perfect spot.

I couldn't even say anything, I was so pathetic. I was about to roll my head back onto his shoulder, but then his other hand slipped down my stomach and began to rub my clit at the same time. I let out a whine as my body reacts. Holy shit, it felt so good.

Ryan's lips were on my neck, kissing upward towards my ear. His hot breath in my ear turned me on even more.

"I want to hear those pretty sounds, sweetheart," he spoke into my ear, his voice sending a vibration of feelings down my spine. "Let me hear those pretty sounds as you come."

I grinded my hips into his hand, feeling as if I wasn't able to take much more. Small sounds escaped my lips as I focused on the burning hot sensation splaying across my stomach. This was intense. My eyes flashed in the mirror once more, watching his hands perform their magic. I moaned watching his wonderful fingers dip inside of me and pull back out wet with my juices.

"Oh my God," I say with clenched teeth, rolling my head and arching my back when I can feel it all wash over me.

"There's my girl," Ryan cooed into my ear, coaxing me into my orgasm. I cried out, holding on tightly to his hair and a fistful of the sheets by our thighs as my orgasm rolled over my body. My legs twitched heavily, my whole body shuddering into his touch.

When my orgasm rushed over, he slowed his movements, taking his fingers out of me. I turned immediately, capturing his lips in a messy, desperate kiss. He moaned into my mouth, arms wrapping around me as I moved to straddle him. My fingernails dug into his shoulders and I slipped my tongue into his mouth. I don't know where this domineering side of me was coming from, but he seemed to be enjoying it. One of my hands moved down his chest and past his stomach where I took his cock and started stroking him. He groaned louder, kissing me harder.

Feeling the burning continue between my legs and I know I need more.

I stop stroking him to place my hands on his chest, pushing the both of us back towards the bed. A small sound passed his lips when we landed and his hands fell to my hips. I wanted more than anything to ride him right now. I could do it. I think about moving my legs upward and scooting myself into position, but I break the kiss.

Ryan has bruised lips, his eyes fluttering open and deep breaths passing through his lungs.

"Everything alright?" he whispers out of breath.

My eyes flick towards the bedside table. "You have another condom in there, right?"

He lets out a small breath of relief, a smile forming on his lips. "Yeah."

A certain pressure he put on my hips was to try and move me off, but I kept myself grounded. I push gently down on his chest, placing him back on the mattress. His eyes flash mine, but I lean down and place a kiss on the end of his nose.

"Don't you move," I whisper, staring lovingly into his slate blue eyes.

He’s looking back at me the same way.. His hands come off my hips as he lets me roll off towards the side of the bed. My legs are still a little shaky, but I make it alright. I feel around in the drawer and feel the packet, taking it and ripping it open. I'm eager for him.

As I come back over, I steal a pillow from the top of the bed. I find my feet wandering back towards him, excited, and straddle his thighs, I let myself hover back over him like I was before, taking the pillow in my opposite hand. He takes the condom from my hand, and while he puts it on, I bring that hand reaching around the back of his head. I lift it, remembering the nice gesture he did for me. I prop the pillow under his head, and he makes eye contact as I do so.

There's a small moment between us. I suddenly almost feel a little self conscious. He's looking right at me. He's looking at me like he's never looked at me before.

I find a heavy blush forming on my cheeks as I slip my hand out carefully behind his head, letting him rest fully on the pillow. His hair is soft and clean beneath my touch. My lips part, and my voice is quiet. "Better?"

He's still looking at me, a certain perplexity behind his gaze. His hands were barely on my waist, a feather-like touch as if he hadn't completely destroyed me with those fingers two minutes ago.

"Yeah," he muttered, fingers tracing my temple to brush some of my hair behind my ear. "Thank you."

As his thumb trailed my cheek, I smiled gently at him. I rebalanced myself and my arms, scooting myself up a little. "Are we ready?"

Ryan's lips turn upward as he nods, guiding me down to kiss me. As our lips meet, I can feel a heavy sense of passion. Our pace changed dramatically. Once quick and desperate was now sensual and loving. He touched me so carefully. His lips were tentative and polite, yet still kissing me deeply.

I hovered my hips over his, reaching down to guide him towards my entrance. I was only a little nervous this time, but also really excited. Pressing down onto him was much less painful this time. I still took my careful time making it to connect our hips. He didn't take me or press me down into him to make it faster; he let me take my time. His hand ran down the length of my spine. I pressed my chest to his, our lips continuing to crash at a slow steady pace. Ryan's other hand stayed buried in my hair by the base of my neck, keeping me close to him.

Once I'd begun rolling my hips with his, I could feel my body responding and a sound fell past my lips and into his mouth. I ran my hand down his chest slightly as I rode him, feeling the few chest hairs he had. He gave a small groan into my mouth as I grinded down onto him completely. The hand he was being so cautious with gave my hip an encouraging squeeze.

Just as I began to caress his face, feeling warmth beginning to pool inside me at the sensation, I'm surprised when his arms wrapped themselves around me and he flipped us over. With my legs completely spread, the both of us still connected, he then pushes us over to the same spot and my hair splays on the pillow behind my head. His lips never left mine. Not once.

I feel myself in some pure form of ecstacy. His hands find both of mine and suddenly, they're being held on either side of my head. I moan and my heart flips. His chest is pressed against mine, hips locking with me. I wrap my legs around his waist, helping him hit a deeper angle that sends me into a moaning mess. There's something about this position that is driving me absolutely insane for him. His scent, his taste. The way his fingers were laced with mine, squeezing my hands. The way his lips were locked to my mouth. The way he rocked his hips with mine at a slow and deep pace.

I squeezed his hands back, catching my breath when he broke the kiss. Our breaths mix and we breathe together. My eyes drift open, feeling his hair graze my forehead. Ryan's looking right at me. He's looking at me like I'm the only damn thing in the world. I try to fight off my orgasm, wanting this moment to last. I know he can feel me clench around him, tensing to pull him in. As we are staring into each other's eyes, lips parted and swollen, he slightly increases his thrusts. We both moan out, and I feel my eyes roll back in my head as I try to focus on not orgasming. But it's becoming impossible.

His hands squeezed mine again and he placed another kiss on my lips. "Come with me," he whispers.

And suddenly, I do.

His words toss around in my brain and send me over the edge. I tighten my legs around him, squeezing his hands as I moan out his name. He grunts and his thrusts grow sloppy. I watch as that same intensity of his eyebrows returns. I watch him grit his teeth, a shaky groan escaping them. A sound reverberated out of my throat and my body continued to converge around him. I'm completely trembling, but with him holding me like this, it didn’t matter.

His thrusts slow down, and we're both breathing hard.

His motions come to a gradual stop, and he leans down and places his glistening forehead against mine. One of his hands unlaces from my fingers, running down my forearm before placing itself on my jaw. His thumb was tracing my cheek as he looked into my eyes. With my hand finally free, I let my fingertips graze his strong arm. He hovered closer to me and placed an endearing kiss on my lips.

The mood had totally changed in the atmosphere of the room.

He gently broke the kiss and got up a little, enough for me to press my leg against my own body so he could lie beside me. And that's exactly what he did. I let myself curl into his arms as we caught our breaths.

My mind swirled and spun. That was absolutely incredible.

"Are you okay?" he mumbled, brushing some of my strands over my shoulder. His touch almost made my eyes drift shut.

"More than," I responded in the same fashion, turning my head to smile at him almost lazily. "You?"

"Yeah," he whispers, the same sort of smile on his face. His hand raises and caresses my hair, my cheek. "Yeah, I'm great."

My eyes gently shut for a moment, feeling his touch. I tilt my head towards his warm skin, giving a small contentful sigh. My hands were curled in towards myself, fingers barely touching the skin of his chest. His palm travels down the side of my head, past my shoulder, my arm. Then, on my waist.

My eyes flutter open and I look right at him. His eyes were already on me, glancing over my face over and over again. I feel an odd massive amount of affection for him. It waved over my body and my heart and mind.

I can feel his thumb moving on my waist, waving circles of fire onto my skin. He leaned over slightly and placed a kiss between my eyebrows.

Ryan then rested his forehead on mine. "How about we wash up real quick and get some sleep, hm?"

I smile and nod, "That sounds perfect."

"Okay," he grins, giving my cheek one more graze with his thumb before he gets up. I follow him, mimicking his movements to pick up my clothing that was discarded around the room. I slipped only my underwear on, holding my sweatpants and shirt in my hand. He begins moving towards his bathroom, and I hover.

"I'm going to go to the one in the hall," I announced quietly, making him turn.

"Alright," He gives me a solid nod, his eyes dancing over my face. "Hurry back."

I feel almost relieved. So he wanted me to come back. I let out a chuckle and said, "Of course."

"And while you're out there," he says, making me pause in my step towards the exit, "mind grabbing my clothes from the kitchen?"

I feel my cheeks heat up. "Yeah, sure."

"Thank you," he beams at me, taking a few more steps into his bathroom.

I let out a small breath, doing what felt like a more exciting version of the walk of shame to the bathroom. I cleaned myself up, observing the old and some of the new marks on my neck with a smile. He was right, this was really, really fun.

After brushing my teeth, I decided to be bold and keep my sweats off, but my shirt was on. I tossed them onto my bed as I walked out to the kitchen to get his clothes. I found his shirt first that I mindlessly tossed away, then his sweats and underwear lumped together on the floor. I felt proud of myself for trying what I did. And it seemed as if I did it well for him.

I shyly paced back into the bedroom, finding him by the bedside, peeling the covers that we messed up twice back up to the top. The mirror was back in its respected corner and the towel was gone. I can also see in the dark that he was wearing a new pair of underwear. I set his clothes on top of the dresser and came around to the other side of the bed.

We both slipped into the sheets and he made the move of coming to the middle of the mattress and reaching out for me. I let myself scoot towards his chest as I laid a head in the crook of his shoulder. His skin is warm, and I sigh, feeling relaxed and unstressed.

His arms wrap around me and he lets out a little sigh too. "You're beautiful."

I tilt my head up to look at him. My fingers are curled on his chest, and I smile a little as I feel the stretch of slightly hairy skin with the backs of my fingers. I lean up the little way left and place a tired but chaste kiss on his lips. I can feel his lips turn upwards as I pull away from the kiss. I rest my head back down on his shoulder, still gazing up at him like a thousand suns.

"Thank you..." I whisper, "Thank you for everything tonight."

He's smiling down at me, eyes glistening with happiness, but also exhaustion. "No need to thank me, sweetheart. Thank you."

I chuckle, curling into him more. It wasn't much longer before I couldn't help but close my eyes. It wasn’t much longer before we both couldn’t help but close our eyes and drift off into deep sleep.

#ryan tedder #ryantedder #ryanteddersmut #ryantedderimagine #ryan tedder imagine #ryan tedder imagines #imagine #imagines #smut #lemon #ryan tedder x reader insert #ryan tedder x reader #onerepublic #honey

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namgee · 3 years

Text

cry baby | jjk (m)

❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f) ❥genre: smut, pwp, fwb au, university au (barely lol), fluff, 18+ ❥word count: 16.7k ❥summary:

Jeon Jungkook [Jeon Jeong-gug] noun

1. The friendly (and hot) employee at your local roller rink. 2. Your friend with benefits of 3 months. 3. Someone who’s currently pissed at you for not casting your decisive vote on him in the disco rollerskating contest at his workplace. 4. A vengeful man determined on using his best assets to make you cry.

❥warnings: alcohol, cunnilingus, blowjob, deep throating, slight dom jungkook (?), tattooed jk (that I didn’t mention enough tbh 😩), fingering, rough sex, some overstimulation, some slight edging some spanking, biting (this could have been written as a vampire au lol), light exhibitionism, sex in public places, reader gives a lot of looks 👀 (let me know if I forgot something) ❥a/n: this story jumps time a bit at the start I actually got confused with the tense since I’m so used to writing in the present tense, hopefully it’s not too confusing and doesn’t mess with the flow of the story, i was trying two new things with this story : writing smut and exploring new story structure, sorry for any spelling mistakes 🥺. any feedback is appreciated ;)) btw the title was inspired by the movie cause jungkook’s looks for the dicon shoot fit it to the T. ❥taglist: @min-nicoleee @jeonsjiddies @ggukkieland

You really like fucking Jeon Jungkook.

He is made of just the right ratio of hardness and softness. You can simultaneously take an impromptu seat on the set of hard thighs that made for an irresistible lap. Thighs that still manage to mold themselves into the perfect weapon to attack the ever growing heat in your center. It’s precisely because of how much you like being confined under his heaving torso in the darkness of the night or the crack of dawn that you loved to stir his competitive spirit.

Jungkook has been working at Diane’s Rink since his sophomore year of high school. Now two years into college and very capable of finding a better paying job he still chooses to remain an employee. The boss, Diane Berry, knows very well about the positive impact his presence has on her business, so she decided long ago to give him some perks apart from the bonus that grows for every year he remained an employee.

One of the perks is allowing him, as staff, to participate in events held by the rink. From there on Jungkook has won the annual disco roller skating championship “Disco Craze” for four years in a row! A fit that he deserves, he is a great skater after all.

A year ago you had moved from out of town to attend college. During your minimal sightseeing you come across a poster for the rink and its annual championship at the town hall. It turned out a friend of your roommate, Kyra, was a frequent visitor and was going to participate.

On a chilly autumn day, the three of you headed to the rink itching for any kind of entertainment. Upon entering, the atmosphere was bubbling, strobe lights colouring smiling faces, people were gathered around the rink already cheering even though the competition wasn’t supposed to start for another fifteen minutes.

However, the minute you caught sight of what they were all looking at, an understanding nod was all you could give. Right there in the middle of the rink, the body of a well-shaped man clad with snug flare jeans skated effortlessly around as he swept the floor. You watched for a while as he moved around sweeping the same area a total of three times. Wow, he must really love the attention.

The competition started soon after you managed to get some snacks. Everyone clapped as the contestants entered the rink and lined themselves up for presentation. You were close to the rink ready to see it all when the real snack took the stage.

Your roommate’s friend happened to be good, so good he managed to make you snatch your prying eyes away from “Mr. Swipe the Floor” for a good amount of time. Your attention was however brought back by the matter at hand as the sight of the most perfectly shaped globes of rear meat wrapped in a thin coat of denim passed by your eyes and you felt the urge to tap in.

His performance on the rink, as if he was born in skates, didn’t help the matter at hand. Just like that, as if you were a primal woman hunting for a suiting partner and he was unaware of performing a nuptial dance, you made your mind then and there to somehow before the time you finish your education have him sweep something else other than the skating floor.

Everyone needs something to motivate them to keep going. Unfortunately for you, after that momentary day there weren’t many opportunities for you to go to attack. You can’t lie, you felt slightly guilty going after an oblivious prey, not that he looked like a prey. However, unknowing to you, your catch would lead to a drastic shift in your roles.

After a couple of months an opportunity finally presented itself. It was a Friday, the day after the fall midterm exam, and it was party time. Knowing fully well that his party royalty friends would drag him there, you figured you should go and try your luck.

Somehow between finding out Kyra is a hardcore partygoer and getting lost in the enticing swing of the music you forgot about your primary mission. But a quick trip to the restroom, one which forced you to pass dozens of bodies plastered to the wall in pairs of two made sure to remind you of the night’s purpose.

You searched around for him, a harder task than you had expected as people flocked around him and his friend group. You cursed yourself for the misfortune of having your eyes set on the popular boy with slick hair that’s otherwise hanging in loose waves, tucked behind his ears or in a bun. But it was too late then, you wanted something, someone and you were out to get it.

In your moment of extreme strength and confidence, all of which were fuelled by Kyra’s weird and possibly slightly poisoning alcohol blend, you gave your best (and thankfully only) shot. Your eyes zeroed in on the man who you had come to know as Jungkook as he continued to socialise with his group of friends.

The distance between the two of you wasn’t big (you had after all been creeping for most of the night) and no one was exactly looking at you, yet you put on your best stance and strutted confidently towards him. You had talked to Jungkook before for a grand total of two times, both of those instances were in class, so it technically didn’t count. As you approached the large group of people, shivers travelled up your spine at the sight of yet another snug pair of pants paired with a belt that accentuated his waist.

Just for a second you felt jealous and a bit insecure as you stared down at your own form. However, drunk you couldn’t keep her mind one thing for too long unless it was Jeon Jungkook (and some other miscellaneous but important things). The Jungkook that was looking at you as you lifted your head back up.

FUCK.

You had imagined the first time you caught him looking at you to be very different. You were supposed to look confident, disinterested but still somehow soft. You thought that in some way, because women are amazing, you would have figured out how to make it all work.

Yet there you were looking back, gaze wavering to let yourself catch a breath. You were one hundred percent sure he was making you more intoxicated than whatever it was you drank.

It was the forehead exposure, coupled with a sweet looking, curious puppy dog face that really made you realise you were fucked and you really wanted to get fucked. That day was your lucky day, maybe he had been looking for a charity case. Jungkook’s eyes kept trailing past your tight fitting crop top to your fidgeting legs as you curved his group of friends and headed back the way you had come. The drink you had taken in the name of liquid courage had done absolutely nothing to help, but that time you didn’t mind, he had done exactly what you wanted without any prompting from your end.

Your legs shuffled quickly away from them, crossing your fingers (in your mind of course), hoping his experience with the ladies made the message clear. You walked far enough to see Kyra’s reappearing form and still no sign of Jungkook anywhere near you. Maybe he wasn’t as intuitive as you had thought him to be. Or he was just playing with you the same way you would want to play with him, back and forth to see who would cave in first.

Your chest deflated the closer you got to Kyra and you didn’t understand the enthusiastic smile she threw your way as she turned her back to you. Hmmm, okay, you guessed that was her way of cheering a friend up. You got near enough to whisper-yell at her about your debacle, but a smooth criminal wannabe named Jungkook got in between and you don’t think you had been any more happy in your life.

“Thank god,” you whispered to yourself, pussy clenching right back up at the close up sight of his slick hair, the dizzying scent of his surprisingly sweet smelling perfume filling your nose as you attempted to discreetly inhale it all in, only to let out a loud sigh that bordered on a moan.

“What’s your name?” He asked softly, eyes shifting to your feet to watch you take a small step back. You told yourself you moved to get a better look at him, to be able to be in control, enough to gauge the situation. You and him both knew it was a lie. You lost your footing at the sight of him and the creeping smirk on his lips which his teeth tried to fight away did more than just show his satisfaction.

But now that you were the tiniest bit farther away from him, you made the bold choice of looking up at him. He was still staring at you, everywhere. Face, cleavage, legs, the hands that toyed with the fabric of your pants. All you managed to catch, now that he was that much closer to you, closer than he had ever been and yet it didn’t feel close enough, was the glorious undercut on his head. If you didn’t want to fuck him before, now you definitely do.

He waved a hand in front of your face? Your eyes bulged. “What?” You sounded like a dumbass.

“Your name?” His head leaned closer into your space and your hand awkwardly traveled to swipe past your nose, hoping it was enough protection from his very conscious attack.

“Hmm right… Y/N.” You gave him a strained smile. You were really straining after all, straining to keep yourself from jumping him in the middle of a room full with people.

“I’ve seen you at Diane’s Rink before, do you skate?”

Jungkook was making small talk with you and you never thought you would ever think this but it was weird. Though you couldn’t control the way your heart skipped at the fact that he had noticed you before.

“No. I don’t skate. I’m just there because my roommate's friend skates a lot, she introduced me to the place and you know, I thought why not. So like I end up going there whenever, I don’t have specific days or anything, yeah… I just think it’s a dope place to be at. Roller skating is fun and Diane’s Rink is just the right place to do that… yeah but as I said I don’t really skate…” If the amount of finger snaps, lip smacks, and shoulder shrugs inserted in between your reply wasn’t embarrassing enough, the weird skating motion you did with your body took the cake.

But even through all of that, he chuckled. He chuckled loud enough for you to see his chest vibrate as the skin beside his eyes and nose scrunch up cutely. How? You swear you could have fried eggs on him just a minute ago (yes that’s how hot he was) and now this. Jungkook was already asking too much of your body and you hadn’t even gotten in his pants yet. He let his soft chuckle die out, head hanging low along with his hair and decided it was time for you to die as he faced your gaze again, tattooed hand brushing through his hair as a full-blown smile adorned his mischievous expression.

Your Jungkook induced trance was broken for a second as you registered the quick floundering of someone’s hand behind him. Kyra’s hand. She made small hearts in front of her eyes only to make a cross with her arms. You gave her a pleading look. You guess it wasn’t enough for Jungkook to ask much of you but then your roommate wanted you to spare the little self control you had left to suppress your full blown heart eyes for a man and his skin tight leather pants.

You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes it would do something to bring your sanity back, anything. Jungkook’s right hand left his jacket pocket as he extended the tattooed hand your way, “You’re cute. By the way, I’m Jungkook.”

No. No. No! Wrong! He was lucky you already knew his name, how the heck did he expect someone to hear anything he says after he calls them cute, big gentle eyes looking at you. Also, have scientists yet to discover extra nerve endings on people’s hands because you’re sure a handshake wasn’t supposed to feel that good and warm.

You stared at the way his hand surrounded your own. You were barely putting any strength into it (not that you had any). It was all too much for you and you snatched your hand away, shaking it as if you had just touched a hot pan. Now the whole of you had warmed up to an extra degree.

“I’m going to get us some drinks. Would you like that?” You didn’t give him any time to properly answer before you were sprinting past his frame to grab onto Kyra’s arm as you pulled her to wherever the alcohol was. You turned a corner and found a safe place for the two of you to chat.

“Kyra it’s bad. Like really bad,” you whisper-yelled. “He’s all unaffected, making small talk for some weird reason and standing so close I almost, no I actually forget my own name. You know what, maybe I’m trying to catch a fish that’s just too big. I don’t think I’m ready to play with him yet. I should work my way up to the big boss, don’t you think? Maybe start with some hot dude from the sports department then someone from the arts department and then Jungkook from the science department. That’s a foolproof plan. What do you think?” You paced around her, sporting a convincing voice hoping that it was enough to fool your brain into downgrading its desires for a while cause your heart just wasn’t ready for him yet.

“Hey!” Kyra slapped your arm. “It’s been what? 6, 7, 8 months of you thirsting after a man. Today it ends, my friend. I don’t care! You’re fucking Jeon Jungkook tonight. If that’s the only way for you to get it out of your system so you can notice all the other much better guys you could choose from if you want to have a meaningful and lasting relationship, then my sole mission today is to get his dick into your hole before this party ends.”

You gave her a side eye for her constant critique of your attraction to Jungkook. It is ninety percent physical but you had been around at the rink (only on the days he had a shift of course) to notice another side of him responsible for the growing ten percent of your attraction. But you would never tell that to Kyra.

“Fine… but like, what do I do? Everything that comes out of my mouth is weird shit or tmi and I’m just flustered okay.”

“Then don’t talk. Go back in there, give the drink you said you were getting–”

“You were eavesdropping on us?” Your incredulous voice didn’t even faze her. She just gave you a ‘really?’ look and you put your hands up in surrender.

“Hmm where was I? Right!” She snapped her fingers, “Take him to the dance floor, back it up on him, get him hard, then move away from the crowd a bit and pounce!” She gave you her drink for prep,“From there everything should just progress naturally, maybe y’all will start with a couch make out sesh or just jump directly to the wall one and then find some cramped up place to bone it out, maybe if you’re lucky you will find an empty room.”

You stared at her, chewing your lips.

“You can do this!” Kyra said, each hand on your respective arms as she gave you a hard stare. “Today, the thirsting ends. Okay, now go get the drinks” She shooed you away.

“Right, right. I can do this” You pumped yourself up as if you were prepping for a boxing round and honestly it wasn’t too far from the truth with the way his whole presence was making your heart hammer against your chest.

One drink in each hand you made it back to your spot, surprised and flattered that he stayed put but still nervous for what was to come. You reached out to give him a cup, the hand contact almost making you drop it.

“Hmm, sorry about earlier. I’m just you know, nervous.” You drank from your cup.

“Nervous, why?”

Kyra said no talking.

“Wanna dance?” You asked pointing to the crowd, completely ignoring his question. He shrugged his shoulder, taking a sip from his drink while squinting his eyes at you. He was feeling slightly confused by your behaviour. “Sure, why not?”

You chugged the remaining liquid in your cup, squirmed at the strength of the alcohol and made your first bold move by grabbing his open jacket and pulling him into the hot and sweaty crowd. You took a quick look at him before you did anything else and you were more than pleased to notice that he was patiently waiting for you to do something.

The drink, the sight of him, the heat in the room and in your core. It was all getting to you and you really wanted to see the arms with which he swipes the rink clean. His muscles were always straining against the black polo shirt he wears during his shifts. But that day he was sporting a white tee under the jacket and you wanted to see and feel them.

You turned around and lifted your hands to place them behind his shoulders, in his jacket and pushed it off, staring at the ground. “You know, if you’re going to undress me in public you could at least look me in the eye.” You took a deep breath and did just that, slipping the remainder of his jacket off his forearms . “That wasn’t so hard, now was it darling.” He gave you a looped-sided grin.

You were so turned on and yet you chuckled at the pet name. You didn’t hate it, but you didn’t quite like it, yet. It would have sounded much better coming from him in a gruff voice, with you placed under him taking all of him as an endless stream of moans fell out of your mouth. You needed to take another deep breath at the thought of that, hands clenching around the rough fabric of his jacket as your thighs rubbed together to get yourself under control.

“You good there darling. There’s shivers on your arms.” He pointed at you, tongue wetting his lips.

Your head snapped down to see that he was right. You rubbed your arms as fast as you could. “Let me try,” his hands replaced yours. Safe to say it didn’t help as you shivered more under his touch wishing the floor would swallow you whole. The way you reacted to the absolute minimum when it came to him was getting embarrassing. “Okay, so maybe that didn’t help,” he said and it was time for you to give a side eye, to which he chuckled, again.

Instead he brought up the jacket in your hands and dressed you in his clothes. It was way too big, but it was warm and the smell of him warded off all the sweat odour from the dance floor. You slapped your thigh, you really needed to focus. The steps were: back it up → make him hard → make out session → his dick in your hole. It was action time, baby!

You were then staring at the glory that was his chest, oscillating softly under the thin fabric of his tee and your hands ran down his arms, quick after you turned around pulling him closer unfortunately missing the sight of him shivering beneath your trailing fingers.

Your back was glued against the rigid surface of his chest as you went to town, swaying to the beat, your swiftness must have been impressive enough for him to emit a soft whistle. You did your best to suppress the proud smile forming on your lips. You kept at it, hand occasionally reaching back to rub at the back of his hair, only for him to huff and sigh in your ear prompting you to rub your hips further into his.

It wasn’t long before he was looking for more. His flexed arms caged you, as his right hand ran down your stomach to grip at your thigh just as the other hand kept a tight hold of your hip. You whimpered at his touch, chest caving inwards as your thighs attempted to shut themselves even closer pushing your butt further into his crotch for you to feel it. Strong and prominent. Jungkook hunched over, out of courtesy you thought but you pulled back to continue your tempting ministrations. The shame was gone, all you wanted was for him to feel you up.

You placed both hands behind his neck, caressing his skin and hair, rolling your hips against his even harder when the bass drops. “Ahhh,” Jungkook hissed into your neck before biting it, making you sight in response to the tightening of his grip. You could have remained pressed against him letting the heat of his chest radiate into you all day, all night frankly, but you wanted more.

Reluctantly prying yourself off his hands you turned around to face him. His gaze was hooded, lips were parted, hair disheveled from your hands, chest oscillating faster than before and you thought you detected the smallest flush on his cheeks despite the darkness of the room.

You pulled him back closer. He was really close now. Hard chest grazing hard nipples, anxious hands positioning themselves on his biceps as he rested his hands on your hips. You were really about to do it. Your hands travelled upwards to lock behind his head as he hunched down, hair falling in front of his eyes and his hands brought your chest closer. The way he tightened his hold around your torso, fingertips grazing your sides softly had you smiling into the kiss.

It all felt too good, and if you hadn’t been sure before, you were then 100 percent convinced you’re not going to get over Jungkook’s lips anytime soon. That one night would definitely not be enough. You were so fucked!

Jungkook was hungry for more contact, hands travelling south to get a generous feel of your ass, he broke the kiss cutting off your soft moans to look into your eyes, a smirk on his lips, “Baby got back.” He slapped your right cheek, and you shrieked only to sink back into moaning as he rubbed the sting away.

Before he gave it another try you pulled his head down, opening up your mouth to let him explore another part of you. The strong alcohol mix blended between your tongues, as your hands pulled the back of his t-shirt to somehow get him closer. Jungkook chuckled into your kiss and all you did was mumble a disfigured “What?!”

“Nothing,” he whispered as he lifted you up and away from the dance floor. “I just think–” peck, “it’s time we find–” peck, “another place to continue this–” peck. The domesticity of it all, despite the environment, left you stunned, cheeks warming up considerably and all you could do was hide your face in the crook of his neck. You liked it, in fact you liked it a little bit too much.

Jungkook might have wanted to give you the lovey-dovey scenario but the truth was you were at a college party, bumping with sweaty bodies on the way to find some privacy, half drunkenly tripping over littered staircases was what you needed to get through. Which you did with the help of a strong hand grabbing onto the hem of his t-shirt as you attempted to navigate the dimly lit apartment.

“Hey, hey, slow down there,” Jungkook sounded behind you as he pointed to a room that just then became vacant when two ruffled figures pursued a silent retreat from it. Though the last thing you wanted to do was slow down. You shuffled back and into the space.

The room was hot, smelled of sex and alcohol and the bed sheets were a mess. Jungkook threw a calculating eye towards the bed.

“Under the sheets?”

“Under the sheets,” you answered as you helped him discard the duvet.

“You really want to take the risk?” He asked, pointing back at the door as he walked to your side of the bed. The right side.

You thought it through in your head. The worst thing that could happen was someone walking in while Jungkook’s is balls deep in you. The best thing that could happen was Jungkook being balls deep in you. Also maybe the worst thing wasn’t t that bad after all, you thought as the thought of someone seeing Jungkook fuck you shoot a shiver up your legs and into your pussy.

“Uh huh,” you answered, breathless and squirming when his hands dove into the back of your crop top and his teeth nibbled at the exposed skin of your cleavage. “God..hmm, fuck,” he moaned into your skin making it even hotter as you ground your dripping center against his groin and your hands pulled his slick and soft hair to keep yourself from melting into a puddle.

“Please touch me.”

Your voice was barely audible in between your whimpers. Jungkook’s hands slid down your back to sprawl his big palms on your ass as he controlled your grinding, looking into your eyes. You couldn’t keep them open, not that you needed them to decipher his eagerness. If the soft moans, the big hands and the biting weren’t enough to let you know exactly how he was feeling, his dick was more than glad to help as it grew stiffer by the minute, grazing harder and harder against your drenching heat.

Did you love the way his hands glided over your heated skin, seemingly setting it on fire as he kneaded it every chance he got? Yes! But you wanted him to touch you elsewhere.

“Plea—ah, touch m—oh.”

Jungkook kept showing you that there were more ways to use his mouth. He had kissed and bit you but nothing could have prepared you for his sucking. Somehow while you were busy craving for his touch, he had undone your bra and discarded it somewhere and now he had his warm and wet mouth around your sensitive mound as his hand massaged the other. His hot tongue swept over the thin fabric covering your nipple, biting the erect tip only for you to whine and squirm at the loss of contact with his cock.

He took his time, enough for sweat beads to form along your hairline. You whined, pushing yourself against any surface of him within your reach. You could have been vocal about wanting to feel him on you, skin burning against yours, to feel him in you, his strong appendage exploring your heat. Yet you kept your mouth shut for fear of the sound that might leave you

Jungkook gave your breast a particularly hard bite before your hand slid from your hair past your slippery chest to hold onto his slick locks. Your uncontrolled, whiny moans didn’t seem to do much to change Jungkook’s speed. Somehow, his exploration of your breasts became even more languid, lending enough time for your breaths to become synchronized.

His tongue trailed its way back up to graze your slack jaw as your eager hands latched on the thin fabric of his t-shirt to push him down onto the bed. That seemed to bring him back to reality, glazed eyes staring right at you. Jungkook thought that you wanted it to be a two-way street, not just him pleasuring you but you him. However his jittery leg couldn't’’t help but show his eagerness to try out whatever it is that he had in mind.

“So….” He exhaled, breathing slowly going back to normal.

You started a bit longer at him, after all, this wasn’t about Jungkook getting his fill, it was about you getting yours. You were the one who had been fantasizing about this for an unhealthy amount of time. So truthfully, you weren’t looking for a two-way street. You wanted something else. “I want to use you.” At that his leg stopped bouncing.

Maybe you knew a lot less about Jungkook that you thought. At the sight of his rippling muscles removing his t-shirt the “keep your mouth closed” rule you had imposed on yourself flew out of the window. Your shining eyes gained a chuckle. “You look like a kid in a candy story,” he said while he crossed his arms hoping his bulging biceps would divert your attention from another straining part of him. Jungkook deducted that you liked to watch as your teeth abused your lips, to let your eyes run past his tooth-rothening sweet expression to his broad shoulders that were slightly red from your previous eagerness, down his chest to his happy trail and equality happy dick.

He was right, you liked watching, but not just watching anyone, watching him. You were finally getting front row, uncensored material to fill all the previous fantasies you had had of him at night, in the morning, in class, at the rink, anywhere really.

You dropped to your knees, ass on your feet, as your hands ran down his thighs to feel them clench under your touch, “Don’t worry I’m not too much of a kid, I won’t take too much and leave you dry,” you said, floundering hands reaching for his zipper. Jungkook made it easier for you, spreading his legs to let you closer into his space.

You couldn’t help but stare at the bulge in front of you only to shy away and stare at the floor, You took an apprehensive look at Jungkook whose lips were slightly parted, eyes soft, waiting for you. For someone who was just having a quick fling he was weirdly patient and understanding. “Sorry for staring,” you whispered, undoing the zipper and reaching behind as he lifted his hips from the bed for you to pull his pants and underwear down his ass. A soft grunt escaped his lips as your finger grazed the flesh of his toned ass.“As long as you’re not disgusted. If anything I’m flattered.” He smiled down at you.

He spread his thighs wider, allowing you a full view of his veiny up-curved cock, rushing blood tainting the tip an angry red. Now he was showing off, to which you threw him a sly smile which he returned with a wink as you shook your head, hand reaching for the alluring throbbing length. At your touch you heard a sharp intake of air above you, you gave a tentative lick to his tip receiving a slight jolt.

You had gotten so far, yet the prospect of having Jungkook staring at you as you blew him off had you shy. With a gentle hand to his hard chest you prompted him to lay down on the bed. “Stay down,” you breathed against his dick. “Unfai–ahhh” he didn’t get to finish his protest as you enveloped your warm mouth around his thick tip, swirling it around as the salty taste of precum coated your tongue and an involuntary hum of approval reverberated in your chest. Yeah this was worth it, you thought as you plunged more of him into your mouth to his approving groans. “Fuck, oh, you feel so good.” You didn’t think of yourself as having much of a praising kink, but the praise coming from him with a throaty voice in between his gasps, had your pride swelling along with his cock.

Your head bobbed up and down his hard shaft, saliva coating the surface generously as your hand twists around his length. A particularly good suck of your mouth on his cock had Jungkook’s thighs clenching around your frame, a hand rooting itself on your hair. “Yeah, right there. Fuck.” You repeated the same movement whining at his tightening grip.”Sh–agh I’m gonna cum soon if yo– oh fuck you’re too go–” Your thighs were clenched tightly around your heated core, your other hand gripping onto one of Jungkook’s shivering thighs. You were really doing it. Feeling the weight of him on your tongue, pushing back and sucking him further down your throat. The rush of glee in your body was unavoidable.

You pulled through, opening your aching jaw further as you pumped more of him into your mouth, tongue fully stretched letting his mouth watering cock be embraced by the constricted walls of your throat. The instance he felt the effect of the depth of your throat, your nails plunging into the skin of his thighs for added intensity, Jungkook couldn’t keep himself down anymore. He heaved his clenching torso back up to a seated position at the sound of your gags. They resounded loud enough to drown his discombobulated mix of heavy sighs and groans, yet he wished he could swap the backdrop electronic music for the slippery and choked out sounds being emitted from your warm throat.

“Hey hey hey, slow down or I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” he said in a rushed voice as you relentlessly continued your attack on him, keeping your promise of using him.

When words didn’t seem to be getting to you, he attempted to yank your head back a bit but you stayed rooted, throat somehow engulfing him deeper as the strong command of his arm flattered against your ministrations and had him bucking his hips upwards. You choked on his length, landing a warning slap to his thigh which didn't seem to help other than encourage Jungkook’s inevitable descent into a whining mess. “Oh-h sh-it, fuck me.” His stuttering breaths along with the scent of him as your nose touched the base of his cock had you dizzy and dripping wet, nails scratching his skin meanwhile tears coated your hot cheeks. When you were done with him you were sure he would file an animal complaint report. You weren’t exactly trying very hard not to mark him.

Despite your aching throat and jaw, you resolved to take him deep one last time. But that seemed to be one last time too many as the hot exhale of Jungkook’s breaths further warmed your forehead and he buckled forward from the pleasure. His O-shaped mouth connected with the top of your head whilst he defiled your throat and mumbled curses through gritted teeth.

Your worn out mouth retracted to give place for your arms to do the finishing work. Before you could pick up the speed, Jungkook’s mouth found your abused lips, tongue probing your entrance to lap up at the excess saliva, sighing softly into the kiss. The hand in your hair kept you rooted in the racking of his teeth against your lips and for a second you thought of letting him use you too. That was until you gave him a small bite of your own and felt him twitch in your hand. Your other hand wrapped around his wrist to remove his hold on you as you tore your lips off of his just to stare at his hooded eyes.

“I’m supposed to be using you Jeon.” Your hands resumed their work on his cock, welcoming back the straining breaths of the godly man seated in front of you. He was leaning back on his arm as his other hand latched onto his sweaty hair, trying to anchor the sanity that threatened to leave him at the sight of you working on him so diligently. A sight that would remain ingrained in his mind for a very long time. You made sure of it. “Oh, I’m close,” he slurred.

You stuck your tongue out, “Woah really, you’re sure about it?” He might have sounded concerned but you could still manage to see the glint in his sweaty expression. He wanted it. So you played along, “Jungkook pleaseeee,” you whined head moving closer to his flushed cock. You left the rest to him, watching as his fingers fluttered around his length to form a strong hold as he pumped himself with your saliva past his edge. “A–A– Ahhh hmmm, oh fuck.” White warm stripes of salty cum landed on your tongue at the same time that you watched the satisfying decoration of tightly knitted brows, eyes shut tight and bottom lip caught between his teeth on his face following his hurried release.

You pushed your ass off your feet to stand back up and Jungkook met you, standing tall, hands as eager as ever as they wrapped around your form. You shivered at the graze of your nipples against his taut chest. Jungkook went on to leave even more marks on your skin, teeth grazing and nipping your flesh between the wet trail of soft kisses he made sure to leave before his mouth reached the sensitive shell of your ear. “Thank you,”he whispered and you almost laughed out loud but managed to keep under control. “I wasn’t doing you a favour, Jeon. I’ve wanted to suck your dick for a while now. So really, I should be the one saying thank you.”

Your hands traveled down his back as you placed your head in the crook of his neck to give him some of your own marks, except a lot less delicate which you could tell by the way he squeezed you tighter.

You let your arm travel in between your bodies to wrap around his neck as your other arm took it upon itself to get him ready for another round. The most important one. Your fingers played with the strong raven strands on his head earning approving hums from his broad chest. With calm strokes to his member you felt him hardening. But Jungkook also wanted his fun so with two hands of his own he undid the measly buttons of your pants. It was either he was somehow good at undoing buttons while pressed against someone or he just had a lot of experience, but Jungkook did not tear his eyes away from yours. You stroked him harder, pulling soft, strained yet compelling reactions from him, his hot breath fanning your face in the time that you felt the weight of his forehead against yours.

Addicted to the feeling of your hands on him, he let you fondle with him a bit longer instead choosing to play with the softness of your ass. His hands familiarised themselves with the strong curve of your cheeks and their strong jiggle potential when he grabbed a handful of your butt to pull you closer so he could grind on you. “Ohhh,” you sighed into yet another bite of his shoulder.

Jungkook kept grinding and you kept whining and sighing. By then you were sure you had soaked through your panties and down your thighs, something he wished to witness as his fingers hooked around your pants and pulled them all the way down. You were raring to keep stroking him. Honestly, you could have held his dick forever if asked to. It was heavy and hot against your palm, velvety skin dragging up and down with each movement of your hand. And with every particularly good stroke on your end it would give you a little reward twitch.

But Jungkook had other plans. He stood back up, hands sliding behind your thighs to heave you up, legs around his waist as he climbed onto the bed. He knelt on the mattress with your form still clinging to him and arranged the few pillows to his satisfaction. He tapped your thigh for you to let go and lay splattered on the bed, wet and needy pussy on display for him. You still had on your flimsy crop top, which he all but ripped off you.

“Hey!” You went in for a hit on his chest, which he blocked. “Not cool, this isn’t some sort of movie you know,” you pouted angrily at him to which he smiled back. He wondered how he didn’t not notice you at the rink before?

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He made small talk as he spread you further to stare at your dripping centre. “Who says we’re gonna meet again after this?”

Jungkook ran his fingers past your wet folds, coating himself in your want as he turned his eyes back at you to be met with the sight of your cheek. “All this juice says.” You heard a loud pop and tried to shield yourself but his thighs were in the way. “Oh, now you’re shy,” he huffed lightly as he held onto your ankles to push himself back enough to be at eye-level with the result of his alluring nature.

“Is it okay if I eat you out?” you didn’t know if he had intended his question to come out as soft as it did, like he really believed that you didn’t want his face between your thighs. “Jeon just get to it.”you acted detached. He shook his head at your feigned annoyance and grabbed a handful of your thighs, rooting himself close enough to your gaping hole that your folds tickled from his shallow breaths.

He bit his way past your clenched thigh and gave you one last squeeze, “What a pretty cunt.” One he dived right into, tongue lapping at the excess wetness with an excruciatingly slow lick . “Ahh, fuck.” You did your best to take a deep breath, one supposed to calm your jitters down but Jungkook wasn’t looking to give you mellow head. Harshly kneading the skin of your thighs, he buried his face deeper into your pussy, pointed tongue travelling past pooling juices to probe your entrance hard enough for your hands to bunch into fists hard that would leave crescent moons on your palms.

“Oh–My–God.” You moaned between rhythmless breaths. You squeezed your eyes, back arching off the bed when he licked you in a particularly hungry away only to graze his teeth lightly against your sensitive flesh. “You good up there?” You could feel his smile against your inner thighs. You shoved your heel into his side in retaliation. “Oh, aggressive in bed? Sexy” You propped yourself up on your elbows to give him a dumbfounded look as you motioned to him to keep it going. “Awww, you’re so mean to me darling.” His shiny lips formed a pout and you did your best not to react to what he had just called you. “Please,” you muttered for good measure. But Jungkook seemed like an easy person to please and an even bigger people pleaser so he got back to the task at hand.

While he had kept quiet for most of the time he was devouring your pussy, now with some kind of newfound confidence he hummed soft words of praise at every little twitch of your legs and buck of your hips and every soft gasp that left your lips. His eagerness fed off of your whining and tossing and he grew harder for every squeeze of your thighs he felt against his broad frame.

While Jungkook was satisfied with having you laid out for him, oozing your desires into his tongues for him to taste and praise, he wanted to see how far he could take you. Maybe it was just him and his competitive spirit or maybe it was his need to explore more of you, to add one more thing on his list of “who Y/N is” before you parted ways. Whatever it may have been, it made him bring his hand down to plunge a strong finger past your folds and into your welcoming heat. You yelped at the sensation, hands finally settling on Jungkook’s hair only for your hold to strengthen as he slipped the finger in and out.

“You like that darling?” You chose not to answer, you didn’t want to inflate his ego anymore as if he wasn’t able to make out the answer for himself, which he did when a second finger made an entrance and you whined at the delicious feeling of the slight stretch. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.” You flapped your foot against the mattress when he went back to attacking your centre with his tongue, flicking at your clit, landing fluttering kisses that have the knot in your stomach tighten further while his scissored you into a whining mess.

“I didn’t know I was about to fuck a fish.” He laughed as you felt the swipe of his tongue when he retracted from his kisses which set off the aim of your kick against his side. “Next time remind me to bring a tie or a few of them. Don’t get me wrong I appreciate the reaction but I don’t like to be disturbed while I am ravaging such a delightful pussy.” You wanted to abandon the daze Jungkook had induced within you, just for a second, enough to refute his idea of a second time, but the rushed addition of a third finger inside your wet walls shut you up. Jungkook pressed his digits with determination, alternating speeds to make a mockery out of your need for oxygen.

Things seemed to come in a duality for him. While he wished nothing more than to make a mess of you, and revel in the mix of gushing sounds from your cunt and pitched curses blessing his ears, he equally wanted to slide the softness of his cheeks against your thighs only to turn his head to cover you in ghostly kisses. He wanted you to feel everything, his fingers turning you into putty, his breaths fanning turning you even hotter, the dip of his other hand beyond your clenched stomach and past the valley of your chest as you held your breath long enough to exhale into the commanding squeeze of his tattooed fingers around your breast.

He went on, you screamed on. He fed himself off your cries and scratches on his scalp, slurping on the endless gush resulting from months’ worth of pent up horniness of your part.

You slapped Jungkook’s shoulder, hoping to bring him out of this endless exploration with his tongue. You were close. “Jungkook~,” you whined, head tossing side to side. He hummed against you, grabbing a fistful of your ass, somehow bringing you closer than you already felt. You were beyond controlling yourself, legs trembling at the combined attack of his nose against your clit, tongue curving as he soaked you up. ”There you go, come for me darling.”

He engulfed your bud around his lips and your hands retracted for your breasts, any semblance of normality and balance slipping from your fingers into Jungkook’s hair. “Jeo— oh god, fuc—yeah right...” You trailed off, words getting caught in your throat, back arching your feverish chest against the stale air of the room, hands clenching around his locks at the moment the compiled knot of your arousal snapped under Jungkook’s attentive care.

You tried to control your quivering legs and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s slow and steady ascent from the place between your legs to your lips, you might have shrieked at an alarming volume. You still shrieked but the same coated lips that brought about your orgasm, were placed on yours to bring you back down to your usual composure. You tasted yourself on his tongue. And you couldn’t control the twitch of your torso when his hand went to caress your back, pulling scorching skin against each other.

The light and docile dance of Jungkook’s fingers brought about a different demeanour in you. At least that was what you let yourself believe. You exhaled an amused deep breath in the crook of his neck as your high came to an end, “Fuck, you’re good at this.”

“Again, thank you,” he said calmly, yet you felt the slight thumping of his heart against your breast. It must be from vigorous exercise.

The both of you lay next to each other on your side for a moment, Jungkook’s arm draped over the dip of waist.

“Honestly, we could end here and I would be happy,” you said closing your eyes, letting your neck rest as your head slumped against his chest. A small laugh erupted from him.

“It’s you saying shit like that, that will make sure we don’t end here, at least not if I can do something about it.” He ran his hand along his neck and you truly believed in your soul to be staring at a Michelangelo painting. You ogled the way his arm stretched sideways to reveal the small bed of air in his armpit as his biceps bulged (whether he’s showing off or that was just your perception didn’t matter and you frankly didn't care).

His hairstyle was no longer present, hair completely out of his face and you imagined this was what he must look like when he wakes up, albeit less sweaty and red from all the scratches and marking. His face looked a lot softer, the fat on his cheek more prominent and the largeness of his eye more notable.

Maybe that was a bit harsh, but you would rather not have him text you during this specific weekend. You didn’t know what kind of texter he was, but if you based it off your only interaction, he seemed rather talkative.You just needed some time to let what just had happened and what would continue to happen sink in.

“Stop staring at me. It’s not helping your case for stopping here,” he said, blinking a couple of times to look past you. This Jungkook, who was in fact like all the versions of Jungkook you had seen during your pining months, had you feeling less intimidated enough for you to smile at his remark. The first proper smile he got to see. He wanted to comment on it but you spoke before.

“You wear glasses?”

“How do you know?” He asked back.

“I didn’t. I just noticed you blinking a lot so I guessed.”

“I wear lenses for the most part, but my eyes are quite dry. It’s usually not a problem. But I wasn’t trying to miss any of your reactions,” he winked

You huffed giving him an incredulous look. You wondered what he looks like with glasses on? Does he look hotter or cuter? You were about to continue building on your imagination when he decided that break time was over by pulling on your arm to have you laying on top of him where you could now feel his reenergized cock. You threw yet another look his way as if you weren’t mentally drooling at the thought of seeing him with glasses.

“I told you to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about me. Thinking about me outside of this context.”

You were too childish to admit, so you did the first thing that comes to mind at the sight of his chest. You bit it.

“Ouch! You really want me to make you cry again huh?”

Deeming him distracted enough from the previous path your conversation was taking. You stretched your neck to his pierced ear. “I want you to fuck me now, Jeon.” If the shift of his gaze wasn’t proof enough of the sudden change in atmosphere. Then the contraction of his hands against your frame, as your heart triumphed at the feel of his cock hardening further against the edge of your thigh, made it clear.

“Hmm such a potty mouth,” he gave you a serene kiss, hands travelling deeper into the valley of your back. “Not even a small please.” He got a very deliberate feel of your ass while nipping at your collarbone.

Using both hands placed at the top of his V cut, you pushed yourself to a seated position on top of his hard dick, pulling an agitated groan from Jungkook’s lips. You ground your hips on top of him, wet pussy lips providing copious lubrication, “Please~," you moan, head hanging low. He bit his lip, hand colliding with your ass, “That’s more like it.”

The feel of him was more overwhelming than you had imagined and when Jungkook rooted his hands on your hips to guide you into a slower grind, your legs squeezed against him at the feel of his tip grazing your entrance. You threw him a side eye, fully aware of his teasing. But you didn’t mind it all too much, especially not when it felt so good. The kind of good that made you close eyes and munch on your bottom lip for fear of uttering something utterly stupid but very true like, “God, I could fuck you forever.”

“Huh, whatcha say?” Your eyes shot open to look at Jungkook’s distorted eyebrows above the eyes that were staring at the conjunction between your groins, lip still caught in his teeth. “Nothing,” you dismissed your unintended statement easily, diverting his attention to the current moment.

The hand that was splattered against his sweaty chest traveled to wrap around his fully erect penis as Jungkook hissed at your touch. “Oh fuck, you’re really gonna ride me?” You couldn’t help the prideful swell of your chest at his enthusiasm. Jungkook might have seemed intimidating but he definitely knew how to praise. At the rate he was going, you were one hundred percent sure you would be boasting about fucking him for the rest of the academic year.

You pushed against your knees, body relaxing thanks to the soft caresses Jungkook left on the sides of your thighs. Okay, you were really going to do it? Your heartbeat had skyrocketed, eight months of pining and imagining finally coming to an end. You were ready to sink onto his length.

“Wait! Condom.” He said pointing to the side of the bed where his discarded leather pants should be somewhere.

“Right,” you shook your head, coming back to your senses as you shuffled quickly off him and the bed to grab his pants.

“Nice ass,” he emitted a subtle sound of approval making you roll your eyes as you bent back up, pants in your hand. “Back pocket,” he instructed. You found exactly one condom. “I see you didn’t have too many plans of your own for tonight,” you said in what was supposed to be a light tone, but it came off far more judgemental. You managed a smile for good measure, climbing back up on top of him.

You teared off the packaging, unrolling the condom onto his cock which was wet with your want. A soft “oh” came from underneath you when you reached the base of his dick. Jungkook’s look had somehow become even more intense, he stared as your fingers traveled to hold his shaft, positioning yourself above it. While you tried to make it subtle, he noticed the small breaths you took apprehensively before sinking his member into your wet warmth.

You both sighed, you delighted by the thought-erasing stretch of Jungkook’s throbbing length as he ended up fully sheathed in you, and him simultaneously entranced by the tightness of your walls and the sight of you on top of him. Jungkook might not have known you before now, but he was sure he wouldn’t ever forget you. In fact, he doesn’t.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love a good cockwarming but it would be a waste if I com—,” you shifted your hips a bit “before I got a good dicking in.”

“Jeon, shut up. I need to adjust okay.”

Jungkook was about to open his mouth to boast, you were sure of it so you slapped your palm down on his mouth. You thought you heard him mumble something along the lines of “kinky” as crinkles showed up besides his eyes.

You took yet another deep breath, moaning at the slow drag of his veiny cock against your pussy as you slid up, tip almost leaving your core only to slide back down, a small shriek emitting from your throat on the fast descent. Jungkook’s hands left your sides to remove your hands from his chest so he could lift his torso to a seated position. You gave him a quizzical look. “I just want to be able to kiss you,” he pushed the two of you closer to the headboard, back leaning lazily against the surface, “if I want to, which I will,” he felt the need to add.

So you plunged forward, smashing your lips against his, his head almost hitting the headboard. Arms coming around to rest behind his neck, you picked up the speed as the slapping sounds of your ass against his thighs filled your space. “Ohhhh god,” you sighed against his shoulder. The room was brimming with gushing sounds, Jungkook’s cock ramming into yours between never-ending gasps and groans, and ongoing praise from Jungkook’s end telling you how good your pussy felt, how good you were to him. “Fuck, do you hear how wet you’re for me?”

You stuttered, hands slipping against the headboard when his hips thrusted to meet yours, “Fu-ff-fuck.” You were unsure if you were gonna be able to formulate any coherent words until you came. Ever the ass man Jungkook’s hands spread over your rear flesh guiding you up and down his rigid shaft as he pleased, tethering on the edge between teasing and pleasuring you, further torturing you and himself.

But he couldn’t help it, not when you were whispering sweet nothings into his ears, biting his shoulders, scratching his back, mewling and squealing at the feel of him hitting your deepest spot. So Jungkook repeated it as many times as he saw fit, pulling himself out only to slam back into you, feeling your stature tense around his strong arms as you teeth latched on to the skin of his collarbone.

Jungkook kept bouncing you on his cock, mouth extending towards your neglecting mounds, as he placed his hot mouth against it, sending tingles down your spine which made you grind against him. He lapped at the skin, tongue toying with your nipples, further guiding you up and down his dick with his strong hands. You held onto his forearm for balance, crying out into the air. “Ahhh fuck, please Jeon, fuck me more.”

You were actually not making sense. How exactly was he supposed to fuck you more? You didn’t know but Jungkook made it known that he was the man. He held you still and steady above him and began his assault on your sensitive cunt. He bucked into your hips with a relentless speed that had your breast bouncing in his face, to his delight. Your thighs were burning, knees ready to give up as you screamed shamelessly.

Jungkook hissed as he felt your pussy tighten around him, milking the come out of him. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. You sighed deeper into his thrusts when he spanked your ass shooting pleasure straight to your tightening core as you did your best to restrain your oncoming orgasm. You wanted it to last forever.

You decided to start moving again, meeting his thrusts halfway, intensifying the effect as Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, a hand anchoring itself at the back of your neck as he stared into your fucked out expression. You were sweaty, eyelids down but squeezed, mouth open, jaw slack and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. He pulled you down by your neck, lips rubbing against each other. You managed to kiss for short bursts of time frequently separating, mouths agape to gasp and moan at the feeling of each other, feeling yourselves close to coming.

Your hand moved to cup Jungkook’s cheek before you tilted his head back with a gentle hair grab, “Jungkook, make me come,” you said before kissing up his jaw. The fact that you had called him by his first name for the first time was not lost on him and he couldn't control the wide smile that spread on his lips. “Anything for you darling,” he kissed into your neck.

Suddenly, reenergized Jungkook jolted his hips forward, stronger than before, digging deep into your soaked core as he marked your shoulder. His thighs pushed against your own, spreading you wider, no barrier in sight as his hand found your clit, which he rubbed in quick circles as he continued to roll his hips into yours, dick straining against the increased tightness. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.”

It was when Jungkook started to piston into you that you felt your body slowly lose itself. The knot in your stomach coiling, ready to snap, thighs trembling from being held in place. “Jungkook, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered.

He didn't think he would ever get tired of you calling his name. “Come for me darling. Cream on my cock,” he demanded, hand digging into your ass as he continued rubbing your clit. A few more thrusts came along before you choked, body rigid as the coil in you snapped, and you gushed on Jungkook’s dick to his big pleasure. Your entire body quivering under his soothing caresses. You stayed in place, moaning when Jungkook swiped his hand past your pussy lips so he could have a taste. He hummed, fingers in his mouth, “You’re delicious darling.” You smiled too tired to give him any ounce of attitude.

But you were not done yet, so you pulled through letting your raw cunt sink back down on Jungkook’s cock. You started moving to his enjoyment. You were sensitive so you went slow, but that didn't seem to have any less of an effect on Jungkook who huffed in between breaths, trying to enjoy as much of you before he came. You leaned into him, lips biting and licking his earlobe, “Can you come for me baby?”

Were you playing dirty? Yes. But honestly you didn't know how much longer Jungkook could hold and you were sensitive, so you played on his apparent weakness, he liked to please and you liked to be pleased. On top of that his pulsating dick made it known that he liked the term of endearment. “Ohh god, please call me baby again,” he grunted.

“Will you come then?”

“Fuck yeah.”

With a couple more strokes in the bag, a tensed Jungkook under you, you raked your fingernails down his back, kissing up his shoulder to the junction between his shoulder and neck where you placed a light bite before licking your way up to his ear. “Baby,” you kissed the contour of his ear, “Jungkook, come in me baby,” you mewled, dropping down onto his shaft.

You gasped at the strong grasp Jungkook had on your hips as he grunted, hips stuttering into you. His hot breath heated your chest while his strong arms abused your skin and he kept mumbling curses under his breath with his eyes screwed shut. “Oh shit, ugh, fuck ahhh, you’re….” He trailed off, speech rolling into sighs as he ran a hand down his face.

“I am ?,” you inquired.

“The best I’ve ever had,” he said hugging you. He wanted to say something else, but he doubted either of you were ready to deal with what it could possibly entail.

You got off of his lap to lay on the bed, exhausted but fully satisfied. After all, the eight month long pining was worth it.. You couldn’t wait to scream to Kyra about this. You could genuinely go the remaining of the year being celibate, that’s how satiated you felt.

Jungkook poked your side, bringing you back from your thoughts, “About that offer, I am up for it if you are,” he probed in a weary tone.

“What offer?”

“I mean I didn’t hear you too clearly, but I’m pretty sure you said something about being able to fuck me forever.”

You stayed silent. After all you didn’t know what kind of offer that involves sex he was making. The committed or uncommitted kind?

“I just thought, ya know, we’re pretty compatible so we could scratch each other’s back once in a while.”

“Are you talking about being friends with benefits?”

“Yeah! That.” He turned to his side to gauge your reaction, “ Only if you want of course! Otherwise forget I asked.”

You thought back to what Kyra said. There’s more to the male species than Jeon Jungkook. But honestly after the fuck you had just had, you were quite content with deluding yourself for a couple of months, or however long the arrangement could last.

You satt up on the edge of the bed, “Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.”

“Oh! Okay, uhm cool then,” he said, sounding both surprised and enthusiastic.

You were dirty but you still put your clothes back on, stealing Jungkook’s t-shirt. “I’m taking this cause you tore my top off.” It was too big for you, but it smelled nice, like him. Maybe it could cover up the sex stench you had on.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m not .” He scratched the back of his head. You flip him off which made him chuckle.

You were fully clothed, shoes on, ready to exit the room. Jungkook was sporting his outfit too without the t-shirt and he totally resembled an exotic male dancer. You tore your eyes off his body before you started thinking things, turning around and reaching for the door handle.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hmm.”

“Your phone number?”

“Monday at Ms Diane’s after your shift,” you blurted out before leaving the room in a rush.

You kept your promise and stopped by at Diane’s Rink for a quick greeting and a recital of your phone number. You wanted to stay longer, and had you asked Jungkook if it was okay with him, he would have rolled past and around you with an affirming smirk.

After that you turned your text notifications back on. What followed was three days of losing your composure at the slight sound of a bling coming from your phone. Maybe you had overestimated Jungkook’s forwardness. It wasn’t until you bumped into him and his friend at the university’s lunch space a couple of days later that you got to see him again. The two of you were in different departments so you rarely had class in the same buildings.

You ate in silence, eyes focused on the word dense pages of Jack Kerouac’s “On the Road”, so much the words jumbled together and you slammed the book shut, sighing into yet another bite of your bland chicken sandwich. You snuck another look at his table and he looked fine. You hadn’t expected him to look any different really but you thought maybe he had noticed you too. Sure you looked a lot less eye-catching than what you did at the party but one would be able to recognise someone they fucked not so long ago. Worse of it all, he had asked you and you were the one losing your mind over it.

Appetite gone, you picked up your belongings and your small pile of trash, throwing the waste in the bin not far from his table. You had chosen to act on the hurt and growing anger inside of you, pulling out your phone to text him a petty, “Nice to see you too asshole 🖕”.

You hadn’t even cared that you were blowing your cover, revealing that you were in fact already in possession of his number, further adding to your desperation. You stood back for a few moments but out of sight just to see his reaction. Jungkook had retrieved his phone from his pocket, taking a quick look at his screen before hastily lifting his head to look at the table where you had been sitting. So he saw….

You could have left unnoticed but you were already on your dramatic streak so you chose to storm out of the hall, passing by his apprehensive eyes. If only you had turned around just for a split second, enough to decipher the pleased expression on his face, you would have in fact known that Jungkook was quite happy to know that wanted it just as much as him. He considered that a needed affirmation for him to move forward, speeding past the green light.

It wasn’t long Jungkook grabbed hold of you after your “Literary and Cultural Theory” class.

“Hey! Slow down, I’m about to drop my books,” you had alarmed him shuffling hastily behind his combat boots and he couldn’t have shown you that he gave any less of a shit when he instead quickened his stride.

It wasn’t long before you were dragged into the cramped confinement of his car. Books, bags and clothes in the front seats while an eager Jungkook and a confused you took refuge in the back seat. You shivered against the cool fabric of the seat as Jungkook’s chest warmed you up from above as he huffed and puffed beside your ear for every pointed thrust he landed deep within your gushing core. You had tried and failed at keeping your voice down. You stared out of the window attempting to calm your breathing by synchronising it with the lazy fall of browned tree leafs.

You had accomplished a couple of firsts in that moment, First time having car sex (which wasn’t as hot as you thought it would be but Jungkook made up for it), and dabbling in slight exhibitionism behind Jungkook’s tinted back seat windows (which surprisingly left you more horny than expected).

“Ready to get started with this darling?” He asked, sweating skin leaving yours as his softening cock left your entrance earning a gasp from your side of the car.

“A head’s up would have been nice.” Your hand searched the front seat for your panties.

“But isn’t that the fun part?” He snapped his condom shut. “Plus it’s not like I, or even you can control when you feel like doing it.”

You were ready to refute his reasoning but he made a point and you held your tongue.

“Fine, but don’t abuse your fuck n’ go rights or I’ll get stingy. I don’t have your stamina Jeon.” You tore your head to the side after putting on your t-shirt to look at him, eyes demanding him to say he’ll behave.

“Okay, okay, sure I’ll try.”

That was the first big lie he had told you.

Since then, the thrill that came with getting regular dick in unexpected places never ceased and as you’re now watching Jungkook tear the rink apart with his calculated moves and pristine performance on shiny black roller skates, you know exactly how you would like your next appointment to be.

Despite having been fuck buddies for over three months, the prospect of Jungkook roleplaying in his work uniform never had been a reality. You think it’s about time you change that.

The air in the rink is fiery in spite of the cool winter air outside, people cram together at the edge of the rink to watch the contestants. After an unexpected turn of events, the annual “Disco Craze” roller skating contest had been short of one judge. Miss Diane hurried to find a replacement in the crowd. Of course you had jumped at the opportunity, after all you had arrived too late to the rink to get a good spot to watch the competition. Maybe it was your enthusiasm or your familiar face but to your delight you got picked.

This year’s contestants are far better than last year and both as a judge and a friend you’re fearing for Jungkook’s current winning streak. However, that’s a fear he doesn’t seem to share. Not with the way he glides smoothly to the beat of “I Don't Feel Like Dancin'” by Scissor Sisters. He soaks in the cheering crowd, spot rexing with a goofy smile on your face.

This is probably the first time you really get to see Jungkook roller skate, you knew he was good, everyone had told you, just not that he was this good.

His happiness while he scissors across the rink is contagious. He mouths the lyrics towards the crowd and unlike the song title, you see the soft sway of bodies moving to the beat. You’re left smiling before you know it, foot tapping along. He does a quick jump into a spin, before he speeds towards the judge’s table only to stop abruptly as he body rolls backwards. You shake your head, feeling more aware of the tactics Jungkook must have employed throughout the years to win. His number is over before you know it.

There are a total of eleven contestants. But from what you’ve seen it’s between Jungkook and a girl who performed a great number to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”. During the intermission to allow the public to cast their vote, you shuffle away to buy some kit kats at the little snack shop beside the handoff counter for the roller skates.

You finish one pack and buy a second which Jungkook snatches from your hands when he joins you.

“Thank you,” he sticks out his tongue at you before ripping the red packaging and biting into your kit kat.

“You’re gonna pay for that,” you sneer.

“Oooo I’m so scared.” He laughs a bit too loud, giving you a full view of his kit kat filled mouth. Sometimes you really want to hit him upside the head. “Sooo, what did you think?”

“About what?”

“My skating, duh! I’m pretty good, right?” He lifts an eyebrow cocking his head as he goes in for another aggressive bite of your kit kat.

“Meh, it was okay,” you say, walking away from the shop counter to sit by one of the benches near the rink.

“Okay!?”

“Yeah, just okay Jeon, The girl, uhm, what’s her number?” You know her number. “You know, the one with the yellow skates, she could totally beat you.”

You’re partially trying to mess with him but you’re also being honest. Her performance really was that good. “Pfft, whatever. I know I have loyal fans.” He sits down besides you and leans against the wall. “Sure, you do,” you mumble.

With one bar of the kit kat left, he extends the package to you and says, “As long as you don’t vote for her I’ll forgive your hurtful words.”

You take it, because it’s a kit kat, you would never say no. “Bribing judges Jeon, huh? What other tricks apart from this and those body rolls do you have up your sleeve?” You munch on the bar.

“Tricks that will make you cry if you don’t vote for me darling,” he says loud enough for only you to hear. He brings his hand onto your thigh, running upwards close enough to where he could cup your cunt with his big palm making your breath hitch, but he just squeezes your thigh and lifts himself off the bench to return to the rink. You swallow the leftover chunks of kit kat in your mouth before you end up choking, throw the package in the bin and walk away, trying to act as unbothered as Jungkook.

Miss Diane’s voice booms through the speaker letting everyone know that the intermission is over and the votes have been counted. Having judges at this contest is more so for an official feel, for the most part the judges never needed to vote. The results from the public’s vote were usually quite decisive, even if a judge’s vote equalled ten times the single vote a person from the public got.

As it looks now, it is 84-64 to the girl with yellow skates. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so unhappy, not even after he had lost points for a minor mistake when calculating his error on an experiment for a chemistry paper. He looks at you once he feels your gaze, his eyes reinforcing the little chat you had earlier.

It’s time for the judges to cast their vote. Mr. Ludwig, the owner of a café just a few blocks away, votes, to your surprise, for Jungkook. And as expected so does Miss Diane. It’s a tie.

Ten decisive points.

Your points to give.

Jungkook is staring at you, she isn’t. Jungkook likes to take your things from you, she doesn’t even know you. Jungkook threatens you, she has never even talked to you. But most importantly Jungkook is good at skating, he did really well but Miss “Yellow Skates” was better.

Mind set on who you’re voting for. Your arm lifts up her number. Number seven.

Jungkook lowers his heads, chuckling lightly into his chest before he looks up and congratulates the winner, clapping along with the crowd. He skates off the rink to let her perform her winning number once again. You’re still seated by the judge’s table before thumping steps grow louder coming towards you. Just like the time he pulled you away for your first quickie in his car, he yanks you off the seat, gently enough not to bring about anyone’s attention but strong enough for you to feel the nature of your current predicament.

“You’re so fucked,” he growls pushing in the direction of the staff room.

“I know,” you can’t help but giggle. Ultimately this was the perfect opportunity. You fulfil your fantasy of fucking him in his embellished uniform and you also get to make sure someone who’s better than him wins. Two birds, one stone. You don’t think you’ve ever been this effective.

Jungkook slams the door to the room shut, but doesn’t lock it. He drags you towards the door of the bathroom stalls. “Ehh, you sure about that Jeon?”

He pushes you along from behind, hand on your back, “Don’t worry, it’s clean,” he says softly before closing the door to the small stall to whisper into shoulder, “Unlike what you’re gonna be when I’m done with you.”

Jungkook’s naked arms wrap around your torso, hands landing on your hardened nipples over the fabric of your turtleneck as his mouth nips at the back of your neck. “I warned you darling.” You moan, ass rubbing against his groin enough to elicit a groan. “I won’t stop until you’re crying.” He wraps a hand around neck, right hand smoothly undoing your jeans as his hand dances on top of your skin, down your needy core and past your wet lips.

He does this as many times as he pleases. This isn’t about you. It’s about him using you. He follows the sway of your hips giving into your chase for his fingers, dipping into your heat, slowly. He starts with a finger, swirling it around, humming at the satisfying feel of you being so wet and ready for him. He squeezes your throat in approval. When he feels you clench at that he goes on to add a second finger. “Ugh, Jeon faster, please.”

Does he like how politely you’re being? Yes. But you know what else would have been polite? You voting for him. “Oh no, I don’t think so darling.” He adds a third finger and your back stutters against his broad chest, head thrown back against his shoulder. “You like that?” You nod your head, lips caught in between your teeth to repress your moans. “Then let me hear you darling.” You bite down harder on your lips.

Now with three fingers deep in you, stretching your cunt as your juices slide down his digits he picks up his speed. He keeps his strokes irregular, he never wants you to know what's coming. In and out unlike your breaths. You have resorted to shallow breathing, head turning for you to bury your nose into Jungkook’s veiny neck, as he makes a mockery out of you. He gives you a momentary break, stuffing his mouth with his fingers, “Oh yeah, desperation is a good taste on you.” He hums reaching his fingers towards your mouth which you open to taste yourself, whining at the back of your throat. “My darling is such a good girl,” he says biting your earlobe.

The hand that was on your throat, moves to roll your jeans past your thighs and past your knees.

“Do you even have a condom?” You croak as a chill runs down your leg from the cold air.

“What kind of question is that? When is that I’m never prepared?” He says, foot coming between yours to spread your legs. “I had planned for a sweet and gentle celebratory fuck after the competition, but you’re you and now we’re here.” You purr through your shivers when he runs his hands on the inside of your thighs, grazing your pussy before the pads of his fingers knead your ass.

Frankly you’re a bit glad to have escaped his initial plan. Having sweet sex with Jungkook was never your forté, while he could switch easily between his rough and gentle personas, you were never able to act normal when faced with the dulcet tones of his praises and the soothing touches of his body against yours. With a clenched and curved back, feet planted against the mattress for leverage, he would ram slowly but firmly, head secured in the depth of your collarbones as his cock reached the depth of you, making you quaver beneath him. On occasions like that, you never stuck around for too long after you were done. Jungkook had a habit of asking if you had enjoyed the act as if he wasn’t the one on top of you appeasing your frantic high and kissing throaty moans away.

No, you preferred this, when he grabs your roughly by your rear, landing a few spanks that have your arms reaching for the walls of the stall to steady yourself as he grunts at how much wetter you’re becoming. Or at least you could deal with it better.

“Bend over for me darling.”

You bend over instantly when Jungkook’s arms leave your upper body, hands landing on the lid of the toilet to catch yourself. You had found yourself in this position before, and you had cried the most in all of those moments. But you had never been standing. Not to predict the future, but you’re sure Jungkook will have to carry you into an orgasm, unless he wants you to kneel on all four on the floor.

Jungkook runs his drenched index down your spine, hand lifting back for another spank. “Ah!” And another to reprimand your scream, “Keep your voice down, unless you want us to be found out,” he smirks behind you, hand cupping your heat only to dip a finger into you without warning.

“Ohhh, shit,” you slur, fingers raking the surface of the lid. Jungkook shows no sign of being gentle, fingers abusing your pussy, driving in and out of you at an alarming speed.

When his digits curl inside of you right before a slow exit you clamp your hand around your mouth for fear of being too loud. Despite that, your soft cries are still audible to him making him smile before he resumes his explosive fingering. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of this sound,” He says, bringing his other hand under your stomach to probe your swollen and neglected clit.

While the hastened pace of his fingers continue within you making you clench around the protrusion, Jungkook adopts a mellow pace to his massaging of your clit. The dual attack leaves you conflicted, unsure which way to rock your hips. “Arghhh,” you bite in your upper arm, clenching again around his digits. “Aww, my darling wants to come,” he coos. You rock your hips back in response.

“Oh, but then you should have voted for me, don’t you think?” You almost cry at the loss of contact, when your cunt is left empty and gapping.

You see him take a small step back to lean against the door of the stall. You exhale, still bend over, legs buckling when your thighs meet in a futile effort to relieve some tension. “You good there?” You can hear the amusement in his voice, but you find this far from funny.

“Jeon, please,” you say in a low, weak voice.

Ever since the first time he fucked you, Jungkook has always enjoyed toying with you, both outside and inside the bedroom. Whether it was borrowing (re: stealing) your favourite pens or taking a bite and in worse case scenario a whole portion of whatever it’s you’re eating. But nothing had ever topped this. Having you desperate to reach your orgasm and yet denying you that pleasure was a big favourite of his. He’s sure he could easily get himself off right now, ripping his condom off at the right moment just for him to decorate the smooth roundness of your ass with warm white stripes.

“Jeon.” He might have chosen to make you come had you called him Jungkook instead. But you’re you and he’s enjoying himself so he stays put.

“For old times sake, I think you should use me if you want to come so bad,” he says nonchalantly.

“Really, Jeon?”

“As real as you not voting for me, yes.” You shake your head. Jungkook’s competitive streak usually worked to your advantage. You enjoyed telling him how you doubt he could do something just to have him do it to you. It was just like asking, without the actual asking. You might have been able to pull something similar for his fingering skills but you’re both well aware of how many times the pounding from his rough digits has made you come.

Your hands push against the lid of the toilet, your frame wobbles a bit once you’re standing up straight and you can hear Jungkook’s giggly response. You turn around, slowly, to face his slightly red face and the very prominent bulge in his pants. He follows your eyes.

“Don’t worry about me,” he says readjusting his pants but only making the matter worse, “I can wait.”

You lift your head, step closer to him so you can catch a hold of the wrist below his wet hand. “Three,” you say, eyes travelling down his face to his parted lips. Adjusting your stance, you guide his three flexed out digits towards your dripping entrance. “Kiss me.”

While he likes toying with you, Jungkook is rather obedient especially when it advantages him. So he drops his head, hair tickling your nose, before his lips settle on yours. In that moment, you drive his fingers past your drenched nether lips as you moan into his kiss.

You’re convinced Jungkook’s dick is feeling a bit uncared for despite his reassurance. Doing your best to fuck yourself on his fingers, your hand gets occupied with palming his hard member. You’re totally only focusing on pleasuring yourself so much he cups the hand you have his cock and reinforces your grip and kneading. He hums into your kiss, satisfied and probably leaking in his boxers.

You suddenly let go of his reddened lips when he spreads his digits inside of you, the pads of his fingers grazing your walls, making you whine into his neck. You slow down your pace, feeling how close you are, “Jun– oh fuck, yeah right there.” His pace quickens once he registers the tremors in your legs. Fingers plunging deeper into your leaking pussy. Both hands free, you engulf Jungkook’s stature, holding on as his other hand grabs a strong hold of your cheeks to plant a harsh kiss on your lips.

He spreads his fingers and jams them in and out of you, He whispers for you to come on him, to let him hear you exhale choked breaths for him to remember tonight when he’s jerking off to the thought of you. You do just that.

Your chest heaves, fingernails digging into his back, face hiding from Jungkook’s protruding eyes as the tension in your core ruptures and your legs go slack. “Oh god, fuck me.”

“All in due time darling,” he answers back, hand running down your back.

“I meant to say fuck you, Jeon.” You manage to croak out once you’re sure you’ve reached the complete end of your orgasm.

Your hands loosen around his back and you step back, head turning down to stare at the slick on your inner thighs. “Surprised?” He inquires.

“No. Not exactly,” your head lift, “you’ve have probably ruined sex for me with other people for a while.”

Jungkook might have taken your statement as a compliment dick twitching in response, but you were in all honesty a bit horrified at the thought. How long is a while? This can’t last forever, can it ?

“Let’s take care of that since I’m feeling apologetic.” You point at his bulge. Your hands wrap around the neon green belt on his pants undoing it and slowly releasing his strained cock. It still looked as deliciously curved, bloodshot and veiny against his stomach as the last time you saw it, which was a mere two days ago at his dorm.

You’re about to lower yourself onto unstable knees, “Uh-uh, some other time,” he says turning you around and bending you over again. What can he say? He really enjoyed the view of your ass, “Right now, I want to feel your pussy around me.”

When Jungkook hastily eases the throbbing length into your wet core without warning, you deduce that he’s still a bit angered about your vote. Anger that seems to dissipate once he’s fully rooted in you. “Oh this is the best feeling in the world,” he moans from above you.

He isn’t looking for a sweet fuck today and directly resorts to slamming into you, making your hands slide against the lid off the toilet. You moan, tossing your head back when the hands on your ass knead the flesh and spread your cheeks for him to continue his eager ramming. When you’re already clenching, pulling jagged groans from Jungkook’s throat, you know you won’t last long.

“Hey, careful there,” he coos at you, lifting you up to place your hands on the tank of the toilet. “Wouldn’t want you to hit your head. That’s not how I want to make you cry.” He slows down his strokes enough to allow you to steady your grip on the tank and then resumes sinking down into you at his rushed speed.

The force with which he pistons into you is enough to have your legs hitting against the edge of the seat, as your fingers fumble to keep you stable accidentally flushing the toilet once in a while. Jungkook fucks and spanks you to his heart’s desire. “Look how good you’re to me,” he praises, hand pinching your nipple before constricting the movement of your breath. “Jungko–” He rams into you. He loves taking your breath away mid-moan. “Fuck, why are you so big?” You mewl, eyes watering as he repeatedly removes himself from your depths only to slam back in.

Jungkook feels your pussy clench around him, slowly milking him dry, getting him closer to his own orgasm. So he reaches down, arms wrapping around your torso, hands on your mounds as he pulls your back against his chest. “Can you spread your legs a little for me darling?” He asks softly and you comply. Whatever he chooses to ask right now you’re sure you will comply. You moan when you feel him deeper.

“You like the way my cock feels in you?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “You fill me up so good.”

Jungkook can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, “I don’t think you’ve ever complimented my dick this much.” He bites your shoulder, hips bucking harsly against yours, “My darling is that desperate?” You shake your head against his shoulder, biting into your bottom lip.

You might be chasing your own orgasm, but despite that you’re being truthful. Jungkook has the best dick you’ve ever ridden. He knows the places that make you lose it, and he can reach them. He takes care of you even when he’s toying with you. You’ve never been left unsatisfied or hurt. Honestly, he’s a great fuck buddy. Also he’s just Jungkook.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks through gritted teeth.

“You.”

It slips out of you and you can’t take it back, not when you’re sure he heard it so clearly. Jungkook stills at the sound of your confession and you finally get to take a deep breath.

Your eyes might be screwed shut but you’re certain of the look on Jungkook’s eyes as he peers down at your head thrown back above his shoulder. It’s the same look he has been giving you more and more often lately. A look you had been trying to avoid. It didn’t feel like he was just looking at you, but inside you. Or more so looking for something inside of you.

You manage a couple of breaths before Jungkook proceeds his strokes with an even greater ferocity than before. “Ah–a–ah,” you choke out as your hands cup his hands that are firmly planted around your breasts. The sound of Jungkook’s hips slapping against your ass fills the confined stall and you release a cry each time he gains leverage leaving your walls battered and full.

He doesn’t stop. He keeps going murmuring the occasional “Mine” into the air with furrowed eyebrows as you clench harder around him. His throbbing member slides into you, fully sheathed within your warmth. Once, twice, thrice. Enough times to make you dizzy and lose count. And with each slap of ass against hips you offer a guttural moan, eyes tearing up, legs trembling.

“Jeo– I’m cl–oh fuck, so close.”

Jungkook's warm finger caresses your pussy. “ I know darling.” His palm kneads into your clit, the overwhelming stimulation makes you choke down a sob. “Just let go, I’m here,” he whispers, nose buried against your cheek.

A few more calculated strokes from Jungkook’s hips has him buried deep in your seeping cunt, sloppy thumps surrounding your combined moans and groans. Maybe it’s the way Jungkook’s left hand caresses the breast over your heart, or the cushioned kisses he places against your jaw or the way he lets himself go right before you come. Or maybe it’s all of those things that make you cream on his cock, juices gushing down your thighs and onto him as he kisses you deeply, tongue wrapping around yours to catch your moans, teeth pulling on your lips the same way you pull at his heartstrings. Only when you’re gasping for air does his lips let go of yours.

“You good?”

“Yeah, all good” you sigh.

“Come on, look at me?”

You do your best to remove any trace of tear streaks as fast as possible, removing your face from the crook of his neck.

Jungkook still sees, “I am that good, huh?”

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes.

“You’re such a cry baby,” he teases and you can’t refute, he gives your cheek a peck, “and I kinda love it.”

You’re really not a cry baby. Jungkook’s stroke game is just that good. No matter how diluted your conscience is you could never deny his claim. The state in which you’re left is proof enough.

Jungkook slips out of you, soft cock against sensitive walls. He uses what’s at his disposal and rips off some toilet paper to clean the combined result of your yearning between your legs. It takes a couple of toilet strips to get the job done.

“Thanks,” you mumble when he’s done, flushing the used paper.

“No problem, darling.” He lifts your pants back up, reaching for your discarded top as well. “I can be the caring type you know.”

With a scoff leaving your chest you pluck your t-shirt off of his hands, “No need to convince me, Jeon.”

You really didn’t need convincing. Jeon Jungkook is a reasonable guy. He is a friend you can count on, ambitious when it comes to his studies, smart enough to do double majors (if he had made the choice), good-looking even in the most unflattering circumstances, a champ in bed and sometimes too sweet for his and your own good.

You had gotten to know all these sides of him with time, some of which came to your knowledge involuntarily, like how he always has a packet of kit kats stashed away for you for whenever you come over to hang and occasionally study before you fuck. The same way you had found yourself reaching for a softer scented detergent after you found out from one of his roommates that he isn’t fond of strong fragrances.

You had both picked up clues about each other, whether it was voluntary or involuntary.

And, yes maybe he’s more than reasonable, he’s quite great actually. But Kyra thinks you deserve greater. You don’t know how much you agree with her. But you do acknowledge the fact that Jungkook has been the only one you’ve done whatever this is with. You don’t have much to compare him to, except for the occasional rendezvous you would have back home with men you met on tinder. Maybe you need to explore some more?

“Ah, I think I still need to convince you some more,” he says to your back after ruffling back into his pants.

You turn around to face that look you dread. “Whatever floats your boat.” You rush to open the stall’s door, hurried breath brushing against Jungkook’s neck as you storm out towards the sink. You wash your hands to keep yourself from looking at him where he stands against the door frame, styled hair grazing his still flushed cheeks.

Jungkook joins you to wash his own hands. You dry yourself, letting the hot air from the hand dryer drown out the silence. With one final look at the mirror you attempt to look presentable and composed. Jungkook flicks water at you. You throw him a warning look. He does it again.

“Jeon, stop it.” You take a paper towel to dab yourself dry. He does it again.

You exhale a slow breath, ”It’s really not funny and it’s a waste of water.”

But in true Jungkook fashion he gives it another go. “Jungkook!” You shriek making him crack a scrunched up smile.

He keeps at it until you crack a smile of your own in defeat. “See, eventually you always come around,” he says and you’re confused. He has been throwing a lot of these weird statements at you lately.

“Okay…. but for now I’m gonna leave before you start annoying me again.”

You walk towards the door, a cool hand touching the cool handle. “You know you can be in my boat too right?” Your step staggers. “It won’t sink or anything, we could both float in it.”

You chuckle, “Be patient Jeon”. Maybe Kyra isn’t right for once. You close your eyes into a stabilizing breath. “I planned on crying some more so I can be sure it will keep floating even with me on it,” you say to the door before walking out.

Jungkook might have lost the competition, but he won something far better. Your reassurance.

It’s with a triumphant smile and a bounce to his step that Jungkook exits the staff room and heads back to skate with part of the public that’s now in the rink. His eyes search for your whereabouts only to land on your hand closing around another kit kat. You’re always consistent with the things and people you like he thinks with a smirk on his face.

“That’s my cry baby.”

thank you for reading my fic, i hope you enjoyed it 🥺 any feedback or comment is welcomed !!

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #btsfanfic #ficswithluv #bangtanhq #bts #jungkook fanfction #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts fluff #namgee #I AM FINALLY DONEEEE

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Text

B is for Blindfolds

Summary: The BAU Christmas party is held at the office. Penelope is full of terrible ideas, but somehow Emily’s are worse.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, use of a blindfold (for a fun game, not anything sexy here), pining, idiots who don’t realise their love is reciprocated as HELL (they will, but not quite yet).

Word count: 3k

A/N: okay so i really had fun writing this one!!! i have a solid solid direction of where this is headed now and i’m EXCITED about it! as always, please let me know what you think :) this is technically Wednesday’s update, and there’ll be another on Friday!

This is the second chapter of the A-Z of Spencer Reid series, but can be read as a stand alone.

The team, yourself included, are more than ready to let off a little steam. There was no point trying to book anywhere in advance, not with the sporadic nature of festive serial killers, so you’d taken over the office. Penelope had, in eager anticipation of your return, decked it out like a winter wonderland.

“Seriously, it looks like someone robbed a grotto,” Emily had joked.

She wasn’t wrong. A seven-foot Christmas tree, God knows how she’d smuggled that into the building, obscured the hallway outside Hotch’s office. It was dripping in tinsel, baubles, you name it. It even had a nutcrucker man. Mistletoe was hung, obviously in a way she believed to be covert, and maybe it would have been if you weren’t all deeply familiar with the antics of Penelope I-Love-The-Holidays Garcia. You’re all careful to sidestep it as you walk in, knowing she’s a stickler for the rules. All equally reluctant to invoke her wrath before a glass of eggnog or two.

On the table, there’s a selection of alcohol laid out. Alongside a bunch of pink glittery cups.

“I got everything!” Penelope chirps.

“I can see that baby girl,” Morgan chimes in, greeting her with a hug.

She really has: there’s juice, fruit, almost every liquor you can think of (including the fancy whiskey that Rossi and Hotch like to get out at dinner), wine of varying colours, and what looks to be some fancy fruit cider. From the spread, and the mischevious twinkle in her eye, you’re sure she won’t be letting you escape unscathed.

At that thought, you can’t help but steal a glance to your right.

Spencer. The man is stood next to you with folded arms, surveying the options in a way that almost looks pensive.

Got to behave myself

I will behave myself

Will he be drinking?

That question is answered when he takes a step towards the table, stepping behind it. He picks up a plastic cup and, playing bartender, asks.

“So, what can I get you?”

***

“Mixology is pretty much the same as any other kind of chemistry,” Spencer explains, gesturing with the hand that’s holding his cup and swilling the liquid, “It’s about balancing the right components to get the combination you want. A lot of the recipes call for more alcohol than is strictly necessary for the flavour they provide. Usually the other elements of the drink are designed to bring out the flavour or mask it, depending on what alcohol you’re using. Almost always you want to mask the taste of vodka, but tequila you try to balance it out.”

Spencer is leant on the desk next to you, rambling, having been allowed to be in charge of making everybody’s drinks over the past couple of hours.

Sipping the concoction he’s made you, you have to admit he’s done a pretty good job.

He clearly agrees, since he’s consumed more than a couple himself. He’s just tipsy enough to push at the boundaries of affection, his shoulder pressing against yours, his happy eyes a little glassy. You listen, hanging on every word he says, watching him lick his lips before he continues speaking again.

“That’s why they serve tequila shots with lime and salt.”

“And here I was thinking they were just making it fun for body shots,” Emily cuts in, making Morgan and Penelope laugh.

You see the look on Penelope’s face and intercept her before she can start, “Don’t even think about it.”

“But!”

“No!” You shake your head, “You really think Hotch is going to go for body shots?”

Hotch laughs dryly, taking a sip of the whiskey he’s been nursing, “That’s one I think I’ll refrain from participating in.”

“Fine,” Penelope pouts, “But everybody’s doing pin the tail on the donkey!”

“Pin the tail on the donkey? What are we, 5 years old?” Emily laughs.

You lean in against Spencer, who has been quietly surveying the last few moments. Your fingers slip slightly beneath his buttoned sleeves, coming to rest on his forearm.

“Balance,” You whisper quietly.

He nods, shifting to allow you to lean more closely into him on the desk.

It’s hard not to get distracted by your proximity to him.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good. If you squinted, you might just look like a couple. That’s certainly what it looks like to Dave, who gives you a cursory once over before training his gaze elsewhere. Your heads are almost touching, Spencer is slouching but keeps his neck just stiff enough to avoid resting atop of yours. You’re casually against his body, the two of you strewn across the desk. It looks comfortable, familiar.

It feels comfortable, familiar.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

***

After a singular round of pin the tail on the donkey, during which a blindfolded Emily decided to go rogue and try to pin the tail on the moving-very-quickly-out-of-dodge Hotch, it’s decided the blindfolds will be used for a different purpose.

Trust falls.

Well, not so much trust falls, as you’re each blindfolded and tasked with the challenge of walking across the bullpen without falling.

“We’ll pair up!” Penelope announces, rubbing her hands together with glee, “Hotch you’re with Rossi, Emily you’re with me, Derek you’re with ____, and Spencer you’re with J.J!”

You will away the tinge of disappointment that flares in your chest at not having been paired with Spencer. Although, when you look up at him, you swear you can see a similar feeling sitting behind his eyes.

Probably reading too much into it

“Reid has an unfair advantage,” J.J argues, interrupting your thoughts.

“How do I have an unfair advantage?” Spencer asks.

“Eidetic memory,” She replies.

There are murmers of dissent, then Rossi pipes up.

“If you can’t make it across the bullpen you walk everyday without falling, I think you seriously need to consider whether you should be out in the field with a gun.”

Everybody laughs. They laugh more, though, when Rossi falls on his first attempt, crashing into Hotch. The two decide to resign from the game after that. Hotch plays the health and safety card, but privately you think it’s the double whiskeys that have betrayed him.

“You think you can do it?” You ask Spencer.

He smirks, “I could do it in my sleep.”

You shake your head, “Your legs are too long. You’re like Bambi at the best of times, let alone three mai tais in.”

“Two,” He objects, you quirk a brow and he relents, “Fine, three. And a whiskey Rossi gave me which was awful. I drank it fast and then he told me that one glass I’d had would cost $40. Who would pay $40 to drink that voluntarily?”

“Rossi, Hotch, Emily,” You smile, nudging him with your elbow, “And don’t think you’ve distracted me Spence, I’m still betting you fall.”

“You’re betting?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re that confident in my ability to mess up,” He teases.

“Something like that.”

He grins, “You’ll see.”

He takes the blindfold when it’s his turn, smirking at you as he adjusts it onto his face. It’s with a great degree of annoyance that you watch him clear the bullpen in five easy, and somehow very elegant, steps.

“Go Spence!” J.J cheers, her previous displeasure completely forgotten.

“Pretty boy!” Morgan cheers.

Without taking the blindfold off, Spencer tilts his head to exactly where you’re standing, smirking, “You wanna go next, ____?”

It’s hard not to visibly react to what his cockiness does to you.

You swallow, “Fine. Give it here.”

***

You move your feet confidently one in front of the other. After almost a year of walking the bullpen, you’re pretty certain you can get across it unscathed. You even remember to swing your hip to the right to miss the Santa gnome gone fishing currently hanging off Derek’s desk. In doing so, however, you manage to get yourself all caught up.

With a single step, you feel yourself slipping, arms flailing and managing to catch on to absolutely nothing. You panic.

"Spencer!"

"Spencer?!"

Spencer.

You recognise the feeling of his hands steadying you at your waist. He pulls you against his body, tucking your outstretched arm into him to steady you. You vaguely register Derek’s amused chuckle from behind you.

“I got you,” Spencer says, “Stay still, I’ll take the blindfold off.”

His hands gently slide up your cheeks, lifting it with care to avoid yanking on your hair. He pulls it up and away from your head smoothly.

The lights are dizzyingly bright. You blink rapidly, allowing your eyes to adjust on the face of the slightly concerned, slightly amused looking Spencer hovering above you. His left hand lingering against your cheek. You forget yourself entirely, lost in the intimacy of his touch, barely daring to blink in case it’s gone.

“Mistletoe!” Penelope cackles with glee, breaking your reverie.

“What?” You ask.

Spencer looks up. You follow his gaze, seeing the strategically placed mistletoe. In guiding you to safety, Spencer had walked right into Penelope’s trap.

Oh.

Derek teases something, underscored by a quip from Emily that has them both in hysterics. Neither you or Spencer are really listening.

He’s already so close to you. The pressure of his hand on your cheek starting to make you flush with warmth. His thumb strokes downwards, over your cheekbone. You tilt yourself a little towards him. Trying desperately to act casual, but ultimately failing miserably. His breath fans over your face, smelling faintly of rum and lime.

“Not like this,” He whispers, so quiet that only you can possibly hear him.

He presses a kiss to your cheek instead.

Fuck.

“Very exciting stuff guys,” Emily chirps.

Vaguely, you’re aware of J.J admonishing her, Rossi’s eyes studying you, Derek’s laughter, Penelope’s squeal of delight that someone had finally fallen into her trap.

Your heart thumps in your chest, and you wonder if it’s loud enough for Spencer to hear. From the way he swallows thickly, stepping back with a degree of caution and a look of a deer caught in the headlines, you think it probably was.

Fuck.

What did he mean not like this?

***

After the mistletoe debaccle, the party starts to die down a little. Hotch makes an excuse to leave, shortly followed by Rossi.

You stick around for a little while longer, devoting most of your time to the decidedly tipsy Penelope who’s hanging off Derek’s arm. The mood is nice, actually, a welcome change from the tense atmosphere that often clouds the bullpen, and its occupants wherever in the US they may be.

It’s a little after 1am when you decide to make your exit.

“Do you want to share an Uber?” You ask Spencer, gripping onto his elbow as he walks past.

“Yeah! I was planning on taking the metro but you’ll be safer in an Uber.”

“Are you...sharing it with me?” You ask, feeling a little awkward at having to repeat the request for clarification. The tipsiness you’d initially felt has started to wear off; it leaves both tiredness and an odd shyness in its place.

“Oh no! Of course!” He smiles, grabbing his satchel from where it’s slung over the back of his chair, “We’ll get them to drop you off first, then me.”

***

The wait for the Uber is silent, but not uncomfortable. You loll against Spencer, comfortable in the quiet. The only sounds to be heard of keys as various other agents leave the building. It’s easy to tell which are coming from the grind of the paperwork and which are coming from their own parties. You’d like to attribute it to a years worth of profiling experience but the tinsel around Jerry from White Collar Crimes’ neck is a tad on the nose.

You don’t speak until it arrives, climbing in and closing the door. Clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Sorry about embarassing us before,” You say, purposely being ambiguous.

He squints at you for a moment before opening his mouth, “You mean calling for me when you fell?”

“Yeah,” You say,

“You didn’t embarass me,” He says, quiet, “It was nice actually. Nobody’s ever called for me when they’ve been in trouble before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I uh, I guess I’m not the most athletic. People usually go to Morgan if they need some kind of physical help. It was nice. That you wanted me. Even if you are drunk.”

“I’d have asked for you sober,” You admit.

He squints in response, and you continue, “I trust you Spence. I trust you to always have my back in the field, to protect me. I’d trust you with my life. I mean, of course I’d trust any one of the others, the team wouldn’t work otherwise. But,” You trail off, a little embarassed.

“But it’s different.”

“Yeah. Like you’re the person I’m closest to I guess. In the almost year I’ve been here, we’ve worked together the most. I think I have the best working relationship with you. If ever there was a crisis, I’d want you. Even if the crisis is me tripping on my own shoelaces while blindfolded.”

You both laugh at that. It’d be easy to succumb to a comfortable silence again, let the moment fizzle out.

“I think the same about you,” He says, his voice cracks a little with the sincerity, “Whenever anything goes wrong. You’re the person I want to talk to.”

You move your hand forward to close the gap between you two, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it, “I’m really glad we have each other Spence.”

“Even when I beat you?” The playful glint in his eye is back.

“Even when you beat me.”

“If I remember correctly, and I usually do, you actually owe me for losing the bet.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you said ‘I’m still betting you fail.’“

You smile, “We never agreed what we were betting.”

“We didn’t.”

"So what do you want as your prize then, Rudolph?”

“Rudolph?” He laughs a little, incredulously.

“Well I called you Bambi before and obviously you’ve proved you’re more talented, I needed to pick a respectably agile deer.”

“Rudolph was known for his nose, not his agility.”

“The song says he guided the sleigh Spence, he couldn’t have done that if he wasn’t agile.”

He shakes his head at you, “He was just in charge of the lights.”

“Did they or did they not get around the world safely?”

“The song never clarifies that.”

“It’d be a little dark for them to kill off Rudolph.”

“Probably why they didn’t include it in the song.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes, “Well anytime you decide to stop nitpicking my compliments and decide what you want as your prize is fine by me, honestly.”

He smiles, obviously having decided to answer you sincerely. You study him as he, presumably weighs up his options, his teeth momentarily catching his plush lower lip. You swear you see his eyes flicker to your mouth. But then you blink, and he’s studying you thoughtfully.

Just wishful thinking

"Caramel,” He settles on.

"Caramel?”

“Last year I went to this coffee shop and I got their festive caramel coffee. It was amazing. But they only did it that one year, they gave me the recipe for the syrup but...” He trails off, looking embarassed, and when he speaks again his voice is quieter, “I kept burning it. I had a thermometer but I couldn’t get the temperature quite right.”

"You want me to make you caramel syrup for coffee? Mixologist skills don’t extend quite that far?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead pressing his lips together in a thin line. Almost as if he’s worried for your reaction.

You're quick to follow yourself up, “Well I’d be happy to give it a try, but I think I’ll need somebody to taste test it. Make sure I’m getting it right.”

He grins, “I’m probably a better taste taster than maker.”

“Well, we’re off for a few days, assuming we don’t get any cases. You’re at Ethan’s for Christmas, right? When are you back?”

“The 27th. But I’m going to visit my mom over new years, so I’m leaving again on the 30th.”

You nod, “Well, how about the 28th?”

“The 28th sounds good.”

It’s impossibly good (bad) timing that the Uber pulls up outside your building.

“Well I’ll look forward to it,” You say, undoing your seatbelt.

“Me too.”

There’s a silence. Not uncomfortable, but definitely not like the one earlier. Your eyes linger on one another, almost cautious. There’s a buzz in the air, one that can't quite be attributed to alcohol.

Ask him what he meant by not like this

Ask him

“This your place?” The Uber driver asks, clicking his tongue with a degree of impatience.

“Yeah,” You reply, nodding. Reluctantly, you push open the car door, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Spencer as you depart.

His mouth hangs open a little, words seeming to play across his lips. Not making them out of his mouth. The driver clears his throat, and you throw him an apologetic glance. Spencer’s Uber rating will be in the toilet after this.

Good job he takes the Metro.

"Have a good Christmas Spence,” You say, wondering if he can tell. Wondering if he can sense how badly you want to stay, to let this Uber drive you around the backstreets of Virginia. They’re not particularly pretty. But there isn’t much you wouldn’t do just to spend time with him. You’d even allow yourself to promise caramel syrup you know you’ll butcher.

If he knows, the wistful look in his eyes doesn’t betray it.

“Have a good Christmas, _____.”

---

Next part: C is for Caramel

Series tagslist: @altsvu @reidingmelodies @muffin-cup @reidscanehand @bvttercupbby @jessicarabbit09 @lukewearingbeanies @lady-anon-x @aperrywilliams @southsidemistress @a-broken-pact @jjongs-tae-and-biscuits @reidsnose

(message me/reply to this to be added or removed!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #a-z of spencer reid #the a-z of spencer reid

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bubble-tea-bunny · 3 years

Text

dive into you

[bennett x reader]

author’s note: lil fic for bestest boy benny inspired by the song by nct dream and the summer season :’)

word count: 3,600

There’s a bakery opposite of Angel’s Share, just across the cobblestone road, and every morning the smell of freshly baked bread wafts from its open double doors, ready to welcome patrons and the crisp air of the early hours. Bennett has easily fallen into the routine of making this his first stop of the day. When he wakes, eyes slow to open and greeted by little squares of light on the ceiling of his bedroom from the sunlight shining through the window, he swears he can already smell that bread and the pastries and the care put into each one. He doesn’t often find it in him to be lazy, to be sluggish this early, for a new day was a new promise of adventure, and whether he’s swept along by the wind to the wilds or to the bakery, it’s an adventure all the same.

He always picks out food for his dads. He considers carefully what they might like to have (some prefer to have the same each time, others don’t mind the variety and like to be surprised), and carefully, slowly he fills the tray. Usually it isn’t busy during the time he’s there, but he doesn’t want to take risks as he holds it securely with both hands whenever he’s perusing the selection. Even if there were no people to bump into, with his luck, he might bump into one of the displays in the middle of the shop instead, consequence of paying more attention to the shelves against the wall where there are loaves baked into fun shapes like fish or crabs, rather than to what’s in front of him. He’d hate to drop everything on his tray and waste it.

Sometimes the bakery keeps the doors closed, and while uncommon, it’s nothing unusual. On these occasions, the entry of each customer is announced by the small bell jingling just overhead. It’s the only sound in the shop, ringing several times in the past ten minutes but it’s mere background noise, easily ignored, as Bennett absorbs himself in choosing what to buy today.

“Good morning!”

Bennett’s hand freezes just above a loaf of bread that looks like a bear and he glances behind him to the counter because the sound of your bubbly voice, conversely, is much more difficult to ignore. Though to be fair, to him, you’re no mere background noise.

You’re carrying a basket of more loaves just taken from the oven, half of them regularly shaped into circles and the other half like turtles, and grin at the customers who have just walked in. He watches you make your way over to a shelf several feet away from him to arrange the bread, and he stares long enough that you’ve taken notice. Your smile is bright and reaches your eyes, and he’s embarrassed to have been caught. His cheeks grow warm and you can probably see the dusting of red across his face, a speculation which doesn’t help alleviate this embarrassment one bit.

“Good morning, Bennett,” you greet him, more quietly since he’s closer.

He likes when you say his name, and it never fails to make his heart skip a beat and he stutters out an O-Oh, um… as if surprised that you’re talking to him, much less that you know who he is. It shouldn’t take him off guard that you know, considering how often he comes to the bakery, so he supposes it has more to do with the fact that he can’t believe his name should be spoken by a voice as gentle as yours, honeyed tones like the softly plucked notes of the Holy Lyre der Himmel.

Finally he musters an equally quiet Good morning in response, smiling back but he’s certain it looks more like a cringe, owed to his nerves. If it does, you don’t point it out, and simply return to your task. Only when another patron comes up to Bennett’s other side, muttering a pardon as they grab a loaf from the shelf he’s standing in front of, does he break his gaze from you. His hand that had been hovering above the bread that whole time he drops back down to his side, and he scoots to make room with another stutter and a sorry.

You’re back behind the counter when Bennett is ready to pay. The pile of bread, cake slices, sandwiches, and other miscellaneous pastries had in the past led you to ask him if these were snacks for the road, for you’d guessed him to be an adventurer doing commissions for the guild by the sword at his side. He’d chuckled and explained his actual purpose for buying as much as he did, and your grin had widened, and if he wasn’t imagining things, you’d been extra careful when packing every treat.

I’m sure they’ll really appreciate your gesture, you’d said. That’s sweet of you. And it’s not frequently that events in the course of his life run smoothly, but that day they had, and with no falter in his words he remarks it’s thanks to you, for you’re the reason there’s anything to bring back to his dads in the first place. You’d laughed and his chest tightened and he thinks that’s the point where he started to fall (to where, he hesitated to state exactly). But in any case, it was true—without you, there was no bakery filled to the brim with delicious food, and if he had anything to say about that, Mondstadt would be worse off for it.

This morning, Bennett is digging around his wallet for the appropriate amount of Mora while you pack what he’d picked out. Having gone through this process many times prior, he knows approximately how much it should cost.

“Ah—”

A few coins slip from his hand and clatter to the wooden floor, and he bends to pick them up. But on the way down, his head knocks into the tray that he neglected to push all the way onto the countertop, so part of it still stuck out. You blink in surprise at the jostling of the tray and his subsequent Ouch!, muffled because he’s obscured by the counter.

“Are you okay?” You sound genuinely worried, but to Bennett the accident had been no big deal. At least none of the food had fallen.

“Yeah,” he assures you. He’s still trying to gather up the stray Mora, fingers failing to get a proper grip on them and he huffs in slight exasperation. His face once more is burning from the embarrassment of being so clumsy. He’s clumsy around everyone, and it’s something he has long since come to accept, but it matters a lot more when it’s you.

Finally he stands back up, the money clutched in his fist victoriously. “Yeah!” he repeats now that you can hear him clearly. “It’s no big deal.”

For a second you don’t quite believe him, but it’s hard to argue with that smile on his face. There’s no pain he’s trying to hide (embarrassment, on the other hand, is a different issue entirely).

Upon handing him his package you tell him you’ll see him tomorrow and he feels sort of special because you don’t say it to anyone else. To others, you say Thank you, come again! but you know his routine and you know to expect him at the same time each morning. Judging by the look in your eyes and the sound of your voice when you see and greet him, you anticipate his visit every time, and his heart wants to soar out from the confines of his chest upon this realization and he is exhilarated. The wind and the new day have fulfilled their promise of an adventure, and the clock hasn’t even struck noon.

One day you’re a little distracted, focused on a paper in your hand as Bennett approaches the counter with his tray of baked goods. For the most part, your face gives nothing away, but then your brows furrow slightly, a subtle action he doesn’t miss, and he proceeds to ask if anything is wrong. He asks it kindly, keeps his tone neutral, wordlessly conveying that you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. He would hate to pry.

You purse your lips, pausing like you’re caught between saying yes and no. He waits patiently for whichever one it might be.

“I ran out of sugar and had been meaning to make more,” you start, opting to share with him what’s been troubling you.“I bought out Flora’s stock of sweet flowers but it wasn’t enough, so I may have to set aside time to pick more myself later.”

The mention of heading outside of the city makes Bennett perk up, for he never turns down a chance to go exploring. He’s about to offer to do it for you, but it’s the thought of possibly going with you instead that makes him hold back and rephrase his question.

“This afternoon?” he inquires, head tilting. You nod, and up until now he’d felt confident in the offer he was going to present, but then his nerves get the better of him and it doesn’t come out quite the way he was hoping. “I-I could go with you! You know, if you want! To protect you… Just in case…” He trails off and he wants to go hide in a hole. There are few other ways this could have gone worse.

You don’t answer right away, and he regrets having said anything at all, but your beautiful smile soon follows the silence and it sets his mind at ease, and you agree with a concise and cheery Sure! Well, at least the worst way this could have gone had not come to pass. It was the small victories for Bennett—just as important as the big ones. The next challenge would be to avoid making a fool of himself out there, in what should be his natural element; he does want to impress you. But that’s a big ask for someone like him…

Both of you agree to meet at the front gate in the late afternoon. By then, the traffic in the bakery is slow enough that you’re able to step away earlier than the normal closing time. You’ve changed into clothes more appropriate for walking around: in lieu of a dress, your typical work attire, you sport a tunic and trousers you don’t mind dirtying. The trousers are tailored to fit properly but the tunic is a tad big, the sleeves a bit too long, but Bennett thinks you look cute in it. A basket hangs on your forearm and you wave as you walk up to him.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long,” you say.

Bennett shakes his head. “Not long at all.” Technically the agreed upon meeting time was only five minutes ago, so you aren’t very late. Though he does refrain from sharing that he’d arrived early, in fear that he could end up late somehow and you would be the one who had to wait. Really, it’s been more like fifteen minutes for him, but he just keeps quiet about that.

One of the nice things about summer is that the sun sets later. There’s still a sufficient amount of light to illuminate the fields as you walk around in search of sweet flowers. At first, the extent of your conversation is discussing where you might be able to find a high concentration of them, then silence filled with the sifting of grass beneath your shoes and the occasional exclamation of having spotted a flower to be picked and tucked away in your basket.

Honestly, walking with you around the wilds of Mondstadt hadn’t been anywhere on Bennett’s list to do today, or any day really, not until he could muster the courage to invite you out like this, and who knew when that might be. Your need for sweet flowers had dropped the opportunity right into his lap, and thankfully he hadn’t squandered it. But now he’s at a loss as to what to talk about; he didn’t think he’d ever get this far.

Maybe you sense his struggle to come up with a topic of conversation because you’re the one to speak up, asking about his adventures and the commissions he takes. Done anything exciting recently?

Bennett’s eyes light up, a reaction which you can't help but smile at, and he regales you of the goings-on of his latest missions. He omits the instances where his clumsiness had made things more difficult (of which there were many), but each story is still truthful. Most of his commissions the past month hadn’t been anything too bold—after a mission that involved nearly getting himself trapped in a ruin due to solving a puzzle wrong then getting food poisoning on top of that from the snack he’d prepped that day, he’s been choosing jobs that he knows he’s more capable of.

To him, they aren’t too exciting, and in the larger scope of things, perhaps they aren’t, but you don’t seem to think that as you hang on each word. You’re absorbed in his story about trying to dismantle towers in a hilichurl camp, and gasp at the mention of their reinforcements coming to attack in the midst of it. Wow, you remark after he finishes his recounting of the event. You’re amazing, Bennett!

His heart does a flip again at the sound of his name and he shrugs offhandedly. He’s not inclined to think so, but your awed comment is sincere and has him reconsidering: yeah, that was pretty cool of him, wasn’t it? For all his clumsiness, he doesn’t often see the feats for what they are, accompanied by blunders or not, but you’re the fresh perspective he’d been missing, and he wishes you’d stepped into his life sooner.

The entirety of your outing together has thus far been free of any monsters, but as soon as Bennett makes this observation it’s like the universe has heard: hydro slimes suddenly pop out from the ground, halting you in your tracks. You squeak in surprise and Bennett is quick to shift into a fighting stance, knees slightly bent and one arm out in front of you protectively.

“Just stay there!” he instructs before drawing his sword and rushing forward.

Luckily there aren’t many slimes to fight off, and they aren’t very big. His sword cuts through them easily, cleanly. They burst and spray water upon being sliced apart, so at the end, when they’re all dead, the only evidence they had been there to begin with is the slight dampness to his clothes and the squish of dirt turned to mud. With a sigh of triumph, Bennett resumes a relaxed stance, then sheathes his weapon and turns to you.

As instructed, you’ve stayed in place, but it seems to have been more out of being frozen in fear than anything else. You’re clutching your basket close, and once the slimes are gone, you follow Bennett’s lead and relax, shoulders releasing the tension they had been filled with for the duration of that fight. You let out a deep exhale of relief, hand placed over your heart which has yet to slow back down to its normal pace.

“Thank you.”

Bennett flashes a toothy grin and waves his hand as if to say It’s not a problem. “That’s what I’m here for isn’t it?”

You smile back. “I’m glad we went together.”

Together. He likes the sound of that. He thinks to himself that he’d go with you to other places too; you need only to give the word. To the edge of this world, and through a portal to the next? He’d meet you by the front gate at dawn.

He’s surprised that the encounter with those slimes had gone as smoothly as it had. It isn’t uncommon for him to get hit a few times, bruises quick to form on his arms or his legs. And it’s quite the run of luck, of which he’s ordinarily in short supply, that he should get through a fight with nary a scratch on him while with you. His efforts to impress are actually succeeding.

However, this is another case of speaking too soon, because he starts to walk back to you, but then his foot gets caught on a rock concealed by the tall grass, and he tumbles to the ground.

“Oof!”

His chest collides with the earth as he lands with a thud and the breath is stolen from his lungs. You gasp and close the gap between you, and in viewing you in his peripherals, he notes that you are much more graceful at it.

“Are you all right?”

Bracing his hands on the dirt, small bits of rock digging into his palms, Bennett pushes himself up to sit on his knees. “Yeah, I’m okay!” Here he thought he had handled himself perfectly well, but then just like that, his clumsiness returned, and once more before you he is awkward, blundering Bennett.

Unlike the incident at the bakery when he’d bumped his head into the tray, this fall had actually hurt, and he can’t hide it successfully, a slight wince of pain crossing his face in spite of his smile. Even if you hadn’t caught on to that, the injuries elsewhere on his body give it away completely.

“Your arms are all scraped up…” After Bennett stands back up, you gingerly take hold of his forearm and angle it to examine the scrapes there, thin red lines from tiny stones tearing the skin.

Your grip is light, like you’re scared to injure him further, and Bennett is thankful for the darkness that is setting in as the sun disappears and the moon begins its trek across the sky, for it conceals the way his cheeks redden to be this close to you, to be touched by you. The concern in your gaze as you look at his arm makes his chest squeeze but not in the good way, and he bends his knees slightly to duck into your line of view.

“Don’t worry! I’m fine.” And it’s true. He’s sustained worse, though he steers clear of sharing this part. He doesn’t like to see you worried.

He straightens up when you finally meet his eyes and dons his smile again, easy and reassuring. It seems to convince you, as you nod and let go. He drops his arm back down to his side but he’s already missing the feather-light sensation of your fingertips. Successfully reassured, your smile also returns, replacing the thin line of worry that your lips had previously been set in.

It’s dark now but the air is still warm, a consequence of the season. In the daytime the heat is more extreme, made even more so by the fire curling from the edge of his sword. At the conclusion of whatever commission he has taken, he’s left sweating, satisfied but exhausted. Missions in the summer are more difficult to get through, the sun beating down with little mercy and its heat lingering into the night, but he thinks that if he were to have you there with him, he’d hardly notice.

Your delicate gaze is the cool ocean breeze and your soft smile the deluge of waves washing over him, a force he receives gladly because he is falling into you, deeper into the expanse of your heart. He’s diving into the sea, the unbearable heat of summer long forgotten as he makes his way to the bottom. What he hopes to find he isn’t sure, but he’d be content to remain there forever, consumed by you and all the love you have to offer.

“Okay?” he asks, voice soft. You had nodded but he also wants verbal confirmation that you won’t burden yourself with worry anymore.

You catch on to his own need for reassurance, and he wants to sink into the refreshing fondness of your eyes as you watch him. “Okay.”

The moon up above illuminates your face, and he wants to run his fingers along all the parts it touches: the line of your cheekbones, the bridge of your nose, the cupid’s bow of your lips. He yearns to be closer to you than that moonlight adorning your skin, and maybe it’s strange that he should be envious of it, of that light which has the privilege to hold you so near, but the feelings he has for you are what’s written about in books, and in those stories, people do tend to do strange things.

In the morning, he stops by the bakery as usual but this time is surprised when you set a cake down alongside the other baked goods he buys. You answer his question before he can voice it.

“For yesterday,” you state simply. “For my hero.”

Your—?

“I think ‘hero’ is too strong a word for it,” Bennett replies, chuckling quietly and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. After all, they had just been slimes.

You hum noncommittally, corner of your mouth lifted in a grin. “Maybe, but yesterday you were mine. So please take this as thanks.”

He’d like to be yours every day, and the thought of how nice that would be makes his whole world just a little brighter, like the crystal butterflies fluttering around him in the wild on the warm summer nights; and he hopes that the next adventure the wind guides him on leads straight back to you.

#bennett x reader #bennett imagine #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagine #bennett #genshin impact #bubble-tea-bunny #queue

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inlustrissss · 3 years

Note

What about a fluff one shot of L falling in love with his friend and work partner... but he has no idea how to declare his love for reader so L decides to ask for misa's help.

Also, can i get a Goth and Gender Neutral reader? 👉👈

you asked, you got it! Although I am just a little bit late, I hope you won't be mad at me for this 🥺💕 I tried my utmost best with keeping it respectfully gender neutral so I hope you like it!!! Love, Inlustris

Monitor

L Lawliet x GN! Reader

warnings: none!

summary: After solving one case after the other, in the most dangerous moment the famous detective known as L finally starts to realize what is most dear to him. Though never being involved with feelings or touchy subjects, L asks an outsider for help.

My requests are open! Submit here!

Throughout the big room no light shone through the thick curtains which had separated the working place from the window that lead to the outside world.

As the busy streets in the afternoon spring sun, came to an end, only the tired clicking and ticking could be heard. The static of the TV wired to one of the main bodies of the computers flickered and played over the loud chirping of the long-billed plovers. As the rainy days came to an end, the smell of fresh gras was almost visible, though the headquarters seemed to only know serious work.

The (H/C) haired only sighed, noticing their long friend and colleague working on a file absentmindedly. Normally, a person who didn’t know the infamous detective L, they’d always find his behavior questioning, but would never interfere- thinking the male would work that way. Though (Y/N) knew, this wasn’t his 100%, something must be on his mind.

Glancing, almost stalking him for a while, they thought the genius would notice their stares, which he usually does, but for some reason his nail biting only intensified. Having talked to Watari, L’s personal butler, both of them ad agreed on trying to remind the man to stop his habit. Even this genius is human and gets trapped by simple anxious habits.

“Ryuzaki-”, calling him with his alias during working time and while on the open, he tensed up, “Stop your nail biting.”.

Even with their soft tone escaping their rosy but now colored in a beautiful darker shade he seemed to grow more nervous. “Besides, isn’t it time for a break? I’ve noticed the past couple of hours you’re not acting like yourself.”, looking around, the noticed they were alone. “Are you okay?”, they asked in a hushed tone.

Looking around, L noticed the big, round and innocent looking (E/C) orbs, staring back into his dark irises, worry etched on their face. Their make-up and unique style fitting and contradicting to their profession as always, L rushed his thought that they’d probably make a better model than Misa-Misa. But it would be a waste to their current investigation and future cases, due to their outstanding performance as his right hand.

Inching closer to L their (E/C) eyes narrowed, squinting ever so slightly. L didn’t make any movement, not a flinch. Their eyes would notice everything, even the slightest squirm. Quickly turning around though, L shrugged “Whatever you are talking about-”, taking a hold of his sugary cup of tea, the male stood up to leave, ”You’re right, it is indeed time for a break.”, opening the door, he left the dazzled one behind: “Monitor each fottage I left please, thanks (Y/N)”

Taking a long sip out of his plain white cup filled with a half of tea and the other half of sugar, L placed down the now empty cup on to a silver tray, that mostly Watari used to transport little sandwiches for each hard working inspector and treats for the detective. Taking some time to think about the events, L let his hands slide into his pockets, though stopped mid way as he had noticed that certain ping sound coming from the elevator.

Looking up, it was the said model: Misa-Misa, with her blond hair swaysing each step she too and the extraordinary Lolita-Goth look he oh so liked on his partner. Meeting her sea blue eyes, her facial expression lit up and her friendly and happy go lucky demeanor showed: “Ryuuakiii!”, waving her hand at him while dragging the letter “i” into an annoying laughing fit, she revealed a fashion magazine in her left.

“Good afternoon, Misa.”, waving back to the blonde, though with less enthusiasm, he asked, “Were you on your way to see (Y/N)?”, mentioning the magazine in Misas hand. “Oh yes!”, holding the magalogue into view, showing proudly the front page which contained the last few shootings the model mentioned the week before her last visit, “I wanted to show them the new copy we’ve been waiting for and--”, L cut her off by raising his hand, “Sorry, you can’t see them right now, it’s still working time, Misa.”

“Aww, seriously? You probably just want them all for yourself!”, pouting, Misa just crosse3d her arms before her chest, but L remained silent, softly repeating her words to himself “All for myself?”. The blonde looked up, a curious gaze meeting the raven haired, “So you do want her all to yourself!”, giggling, the model covered up her red lips with her free hand. “I’m not quite sure what you mean by that, they are a person on their own, I can’t simply restrict and own them.”

“Of course you know what I mean, you’re a genius, you should know!”, sighing, the blonde twirled a lose strand of hair between her middle and pointy finger: “Maybe all of that sugar did get to you..”,mocking the male, L just shrugged, “I don’t think so.”

But this did got him thinking: Does he truly want them all to himself? It indeed has been now quite the long time he was restless while working, not entirely there. His mind wandering off into an imaginative world or worrisome state whenever (Y/N) wouldn’t be around- no, scratch that, it didn’t matter, he quickly noticed.

Wether they’d be there or not, his mind was partly fixated on their well being. Though wasn’t it always like that? They’ve been partners for a really long time, longer than his knowledge of Naomi Misora for sure, and friends too.

He read a lot of things during his early days, a lot about solving different puzzles and games, but he could never wrap his hand around when they came.

His experimental time with how feelings would work while (Y/N) were partners were over, he saw himself to them as an equal by now, but what if- “Helloo, earth to Ryuzaki!”, waving the magazine in front of the famous detective, Misa huffed, “Man, bet you’re thinking about (Y/N) if it takes you that long to get out of your dreamy thoughts”, gifting him a look of her tongue, she mocked him again, “You should try that brain-work on finding Kira! I wanna go on a date with Light already again, he promised!”, a date?

Maybe a little trip, spending the day with his friend would make the situation a bi8t lighter- finding out about his true thoughts and feelings that hid in his clouded mind. “Can’t believe I’m saying this-”, he murmured, “But: Misa, I might or might not need your help with something.”, he bluntly responded, ignoring her witty comments., “Help? With what?”, again, her airy head. Sighing, L explained another time, “You see, you’re such an emotional person, where I’m more technical.”, shoving his hands into his pockets, in a hunched position he began to walk, motioning her to follow him into a room across the hall, “The past few days I might’ve felt a little bit under the weather and I do have my suspicion, but to be honest, even as a detective, I can’t help but not be able to solve this mystery on my own, Misa.”

Opening the door, he held it open for the young woman to step inside. “What do you mean under the weather? Are you sick?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it sick, when it’s just a feeling, I believe, and not just a condition.”, he stated, scratching his had as he continued to stay while Misa took the opportunity to relax her legs and sit down on to a couch. “Wait, was I maybe right when I said you might have a thing for (Y/N)?”, noticing how L had perked up by hearing their name, Misas sea blue eyes seemed to sparkle a few shades lighter, already rosy cheeks deepening. “Awww~ Ryuzaki, really?”, she cooed at the usually emotionless acting detective.

Like previously mentioned, he’s also just a human.

“For a long time now, I want to find out about these thoughts that were kept in the back of my head.”, especially now the most dangerous case since Beyond Birthday, everyday might as well be the last day that he would glance at their beautiful eyes, and their wonderful perfume reaching his nose. “I’m just not sure how”

Eyes softening along with her features, Misas excitement toned down and switched with a warm smile, noticing how lost the male was when it came to the most basic human needs, “It’s fairly easy on finding out how you feel about them, Ryuzaki.”

“If it would be that easy, I wonder why I can’t put my finger on it”, lifting his thumb to his mouth he began biting down on his nail, eyes following the trail of the skyline, visible due to the opened window.

Standing up and entrusting her weight back to her feet, Misas smile never wavered, “Why don’t you just ask them out?”

Dark eyes wandering back to the model, he raised a brow: “I work with them every day, I see (Y/N) every day.”

“I don’t mean as a colleague or as a friend, Ryuzaki. I’m sure they’ll say yes regardless and besides, spending a day with (Y/N) will give you surely an idea if not a start of your thesis on how to feel about them!”, looking up at the taller male with a determined look, Misa Amane was more than sure: “And if the firt time won’t be enough, the ask them out again and again and again, until you got your answer.”, making her way to the door, she stepped out. “It’s not too late and not too cold to go yet.”, winking to the male she laughed one last time

“Take them out-”, she waved, “There is this pretty nice café down the block! I’ll come around another time!”, with that, she had left.

Thinking over the blondes words, she must be right. Besides, some time off shouldn’t hurt, it never does. Slow steps were heard as L Lawliet made his way towards the ain investiation room, where he had left (Y/N) to continue his work, so none of the progress was lost.

Not forgetting any manners, he knocked, signaling that someone would come in and not startle them. “Oh, you’re back.”, their angelic like voice greeted the male. “Yeah, though it’s now you’re turn for a break, it’s time to wrap things up.”

Swallowing his build up lumb which seemed to sit tight above his adams apple, he stood straight, expression not changing: “Would you want to go out with me?”

Turning around swiftly, (H/C) hair danced around their pretty head in the process as their eyes widened and cheeks reddened.

“There is this pretty nice café down the block.”, he said.

Seeing them smile set her at ease, nodding (Y/N) only laughed, “Sure, L. Let’s go.”

Turning off the computers, (Y/N) stood up to join L’s side and walk down the hall towards the elevator. Smiling the whole way towards the Café and while being with him, (Y/N) couldn’t be happier.

Happy that Misa had come with her obnoxiously loud voice, gaining (Y/N)’s attention on the other side of the door and happy that the whole building is bugged.

No, they didn’t neglect their work- (Y/N) did monitor the fottage, though L did not necessarily mention which one.

Just like spring had brought the most wonderful flowers, a relationship blossoming would soon follow up.

#l lawliet x reader #l x reader #L Lawliet #misa amane #death note x reader #gender neutral s/o #death note L #death note #death note l x reader #L lawliet oneshot #oneshot

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arcanewhoosh · 2 years

Text

Partners in Crime

Inspired by this song by FINNEAS of the same name.

Not proofread, English isn’t my first language

1500 words AU

TW: Mentions of past drug use, underage drug use, juvenile imprisonment, cursing, alcohol

Highly recommend listening to the song either before, during, or after reading. Not required, I just think the song is neat

Also on AO3

Late and slightly feeling out of place, arriving at what you thought was a regular afterparty is quickly turned upside down when you run into an old friend that you haven't seen since both of you got sent to juvie.

You take a sip of your iced tea, turning to look at the woman standing next to you. How long had it been since you two last saw each other? Seven, eight years? She looked different, her hair now in twin braids and flowing down her back. She had kept it short when you were younger; easier to run away from cops or other junkies if they couldn't pull on your hair. Her eyes were a deeper shade of blue than you remember. Maybe it was because the lights of the room had been dimmed down, or maybe it was because of the LED lights pasted across the ceiling giving them a tinge of pink. Her skin looked better, even under the dimmed lights. The tattoos were new; teal clouds trailing along her arm and down her side.

"Got them after I got out of juvie." She says, her eyes flicking towards yours.

"How long were you in there?" You ask.

She takes a sip from her can of soda before answering. "Two years. You?"

"Just one."

"Well, lucky you then, I guess." She says dryly, turning her eyes back to the party currently happening. A post bachelorette-slash-bachelor party. Jayce, the groom, was a friend of yours from work. He had invited you to his actual bachelor party, but you couldn't make it so you decided to attend the after party, instead. Which you were also late for. Apparently, Jinx's sister's girlfriend-whom you just found out was technically also your coworker- was a good friend of Jayce, and they were all at his bachelor party earlier before coming back here.

To say you were stumped when you first saw Jinx here was an understatement. You were minding your own business, trying to find a parking spot. When you finally found one, and started reversing into it, you caught sight of a flash of blue hair, and after confirming who it was, almost made you reverse into another car.

You take a minute, gathering your thoughts before opening your mouth, not wanting to be misinterpreted. You remember how erratic her behavior could get when she wasn't high-not that you thought she was still using, you just wanted to be careful. God knows your penchant for blurting out your thoughts at horrible times was not needed at the moment.

The extended silence prompts the her to look back at you. A look of slight annoyance adorning her features. If you let your big mouth have it's way, you'd say she looked pretty under the pink lights, or that you think her tattoos were cool, or that the crop top she was wearing had a chokehold on your single functioning braincell. But thankfully you were sober, and currently using said braincell, so you say none of those things.

"I'm sorry." You manage. She blinks, obviously not expecting you to say that. She frowns, brows furrowed, confused at your oh so very carefully chosen words.

"You got two years and I only got one."

"That was hardly your call, toots."

"But I got us in that situation." You take a longer sip from your drink, trying to remember blurry memories from your teen years.

"You tried to get us off of that stuff early, I didn't listen, and I dragged you down with me." You turn to face her fully.

"This isn't exactly the best time to discuss this.."

"I didn't exactly have time to tell you any of this, you know, since you blocked me from everything-"

"Can you not bring this up right now?" She says sharply, she's glaring at you, and you know her well enough to know that if you keep pushing the subject, she'll lash out at you.

So you sigh instead.

"I'm sorry I brought it up." You're about to say something else, but unfortunately, you're interrupted by a loud voice.

"Hey! There you are!" You feel a hand pull you back and give you a shake. You turn around and see that it's Jayce. The dopey grin on his face tells you that he's one too many drinks in, but it doesn't stop him pulling you into a hug. The randomness is enough to take you out of the previously escalating conversation, and you laugh and hug him back.

"So…" He starts.

You lift an eyebrow "So?"

"Someone has to move their car, so I check it out, and 'm pretty sure it's your car that needs moving." For someone who's very obviously drunk, he manages to say the sentence pretty coherently.

"Yeah, sure gimme just-" You look behind you to tell Jinx that you'd be right back, but the girl is nowhere in sight. You let out a breath, disheartened at how your first conversation with her in years immediately went south. You give the room a once over, and when you can't see her anywhere, you go with Jayce outside to move your car.

The air outside is cold, and you can see your breath every time you exhale. You shove your hands in your jacket pockets and quickly walk to your car, wanting to be out of the chilly air and into heated seats. You get in and quickly shut your doors, starting your car. You thank the universe when the heating kicks in, rubbing your hands together before holding onto the steering wheel and stepping on the emergency brake.

But then passenger side door opens, and the left side of your car dips as someone gets in.

"God it's fucking cold."

You stare at the… intruder? Carjacker? Blue haired bandit? That just unceremoniously entered your vehicle. She rubs her hands together and blows into them for extra warmth, before looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Let's go."

"Huh?"

"Out of here, I'm bored out of my mind." She says as she moves the seat all the way back and reclines it a bit, putting her feet up on the dash. Your eyes move from her to the boots on your dashboard.

"…Feet off my dash."

"Are you serious?"

"You wanna get out of here? My car, my rules."

She huffs, but puts her feet down. You mumble a thank you before shifting to drive and stepping on the emergency brake and moving your car our of parking, letting the truck behind you out. You keep the car on the road instead of backing into the parking spot again, shifting to neutral and using the emergency brake, before turning to Jinx.

"Why are you in my car?"

"I told you, I'm bored."

"And what if I'm going back to the party?"

"Then I'll get an Uber." You stare at her, and she stares at you right back.

Eventually, you relent and look ahead of you. You sigh, closing your eyes and leaning back on your seat. "Don't get an Uber."

The both of you are silent for the next few minutes, not really sure what to say to each other. It's comforting, in a way. Jinx was loud and boisterous, often the center of attention wherever she was. You were the quiet one, a trait of yours that she was keenly aware of. Whenever she got the inkling that you just wanted a moment and weren't in the mood to interact with people, she'd sit down next to you without uttering a word. Oftentimes tinkering with whatever she could get her hands on-your alarm clock usually- and leave you be in your quiet.

"I didn't mean to stir up bad memories earlier. I'm sorry." You say, breaking the silence.

You hear the seat next to you move again before hearing, "I know, I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"Being a bit of a bitch earlier."

"..... You just wanted me safe."

"Of course I did." You look over to her, and see that she's pulled her knees to her chest. One part of you wants to hold her, another part wants to tell her to get her feet off your seats. You decide to go for the third option.

"I'm sorry for being an idiot and misunderstanding then."

"You were seventeen, and I didn't put up much of a fight."

"We were really dumb, huh?"

She snorts. "Yeah, big time. You were my partner in crime."

The words leave you before you can even think about it.

"And you were still mine."

There it was, blurting out the worst things at the worst time. Jinx looks up at you, mirroring the surprised look on your face. You hold your breath, fearing for the worst. She could leave your car and never talk to you again, she could kick your face. Judging from the army boots she was wearing, that kick is gonna hurt.

But in typical Jinx fashion, she does the unpredictable instead. She throws her head back and lets out a laugh. You're stumped, and simply stare at her until her laughter dies down.

"Where the hell did that come from?" She manages after gets her breath back. You shake your head.

"I don't know. I missed you." God damn it, mouth.

Her smile softens, and she reaches out her hand to you. You take it without saying anything, the scene all to familiar. She pulls your hand towards her and rests her head on it .

"I missed you too, bubs."

A pause.

"We're a mess."

"We've always been a mess."

"You know, you looked pretty though, all strung out on coke."

"It's not funny."

"It wasn't a joke."

#arcane #jinx x reader #jinx arcane #arcane jinx #arcane x reader #arcane jayce

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bimswritings · 3 years

Text

Savage Opress x Reader: Pt.2

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Yandere Themes, Language

PT.1

Presents and Possessions

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Life aboard the ship of the Zabrak brothers wasn’t what you had been expecting.

Savage had told you that you were to serve him, be there for his every call, but so far he had neglected to have you do anything. As far as servants went, your duties were next to nothing, and you hardly saw him on a regular basis.

His appearances were sparse appearing every other day. There were times when you would go days, even a week without seeing him. When you did he was, for a lack of better words, clingy.

The first few nights he had to wrestle you to get you to lay down, struggling against your squirming figure even with his superior strength. At first you had feared that he would try to pull something, leaving many sleepless nights for you as you remained stiff and on guard. As time progressed without incident, you found yourself becoming more relaxed, falling into a routine of sorts.

You would spend the day doing whatever it is you could find to occupy yourself in the room, be it reading one of the stray books he would bring or trying to maintain your physical skills and strength earned from years working in the mines. That strength could be your saving grace if you need to fight your captor, should he decide to flip the script and try to pull something one day. Then, at night or random intervals during the day, Savage would return. He would spend a majority of the time ranting, pacing back and forth across the room as he complained about one thing or another. All the while you would sit on the bed, silently listening.

On particularly rough days, he would forego any words and just drag you into his arms, holding you there for hours and not saying anything. It was as if the rest of the world was shut out to him at those times, ignoring your squirming as his horns poked into your skin, all the while his face remained bruised in the crook of your neck.

Even with having to deal with the clingy Zabrak, you were far from mistreated on the ship.

Visits with your brother were held once a week, either in your own room or in his own barracks. Sometimes he would even lead you to one of the various training rooms, excitedly bouncing up and down as he showed you whatever new skill he had learned from the Mandalorians. Savage would come along on those trips a few times, watching from the corner of the room in silence as you caught up with one another. Jay seemed to be in better health than he was back home, even putting on some weight between the regular meals and all the training he was doing. His strength was ever growing, and you had to put in some actual effort when wrestling with him.

Now that he wasn’t an enemy in their eyes, he was quick to earn the other warriors respect, often earning greetings as you walked side by side through the halls. There was still some bad blood between you both and some of the soldiers, namely the same blond man who had injured you back on your planet, but it was only to be expected. They never dared to bother you though, resorting to scathing glares as they walked past, Jay leading you through the halls with practiced ease, something that you found yourself slightly jealous of.

The only times you ever really left the room were to visit your brother, neglecting to explore more of the ship even though the doors remain unlocked. The fear of getting yourself into trouble or stumbling upon one of the guards with ill intent was too real in your mind, and the unknown territory did nothing to put your mind at ease. After spending the majority or your life on the same planet, in the same village, following roughly the same routine year after year, it made you cautious around the unknown simply because you didn’t know how to deal with it.

Unfortunately, the behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Savage as you had though. Hoping he just didn’t care about what you did when he wasn’t around, or that he was providing ample time to acclimate to the new surroundings, all theories were crushed after he broached the topic a month into your stay.

“Why do you never leave this room? The doors are unlocked, and you are allowed to wander. It’s not as if you could escape, even if you wanted to.” He spoke, turning towards you and pulling you from the daze you had been caught in.

The question came out of the blue, and you had debated on lying to him. There was no point though, as withholding the truth did nothing to better the situation. So, with a small shrug of your shoulders you answered.

“I know no one here but my brother, and he finds himself more and more busy each day. If I were to run into anyone or get into any trouble, I fear what might happen. After all, I doubt the others, especially your brother, have any such fondness for me. I have no position on this ship.”

He said nothing, only staring at you a moment longer, eyes narrowed, before turning back to resume getting ready for bed.

You shrugged it off, figuring that he would drop the subject now that he had his answer. There was no reason he should have any concerns over your behavior further than that, and he acts no different when he pulls you into his chest that night, letting out a sigh as you begin humming lightly. Something you had done for Jay whenever he had trouble sleeping, and while trying to sooth yourself in the early nights of your forced companionship you discovered that he enjoyed it as well. The better mood he was in, the better things were for you, and you would be lying if you said that all the nights spent with him hadn’t warmed you up to the large Sith a bit, even if rationally you knew it was just a result of dependence and Stockholm.

Sleeping soundly as ever, it comes as almost a shock when he wakes you in the morning. Normally he would leave without so much as a word, so to be greeted with the sight of him standing above you, already dressed and shaking your shoulders roughly, was a bit of a surprise.

“Get dressed.” Is all he says, throwing the clothes in his hands into your lap before turning around to wait, facing the wall as you slip from your sleeping garments.

You do as he says, shedding your clothes and quickly slipping into the ones he had given you. The material was softer and nicer than anything you had ever owned, though still thick and heavy, providing warmth from the ever present cold of space. Upon closer inspection, you notice some stitching running all over the black fabric, which suspiciously resembles the same markings of his own skin.

How long had he had this? And why was he giving it to you now?

Before you can put too much thought into it, he’s turned back around. Golden eyes give you a once over, a small lift to his lips as he takes in your form before turning back to the door.

“Come.” Is all he says before exiting, leaving you to scramble and catch up as you pull on your shoes before running after him.

Once you do catch up, you still struggle to keep pace with him. His longer legs cover the same amount of ground as two of yours and he’s no slow walker. Taking place just behind him to his right, you catch him looking back over his shoulder to you. Now, certain that you’re following along, he begins pointing out different areas as you pass. Meeting rooms, offices where more notable figures could be found, even the control and engine rooms.

After a time of walking around the ship, you follow him to one of the previously mentioned training rooms to find Maul waiting for him.

“I see you managed to coax the little lolth out of her den.” His eyes flicker to you, practically burning into your skin and prompting you to hide behind Savage’s larger form. Said man ignores his brother’s words, instead directing you to stand by the door and out of the way as he removes some of his bulkier armor.

For the next two hours they spar, switching between simple hand-to-hand combat and using their lightsabers, which crackle and spark with every clash. Not only was the sight of such weapons enough to amaze you, having never seen anything but simple weapons and the occasional blaster from traders, but the strength that both Zabrak possess. While Maul is clearly strong, he still relies on his superior agility to remain out of Savage’s grasp, who’s not as jumpy but just as dangerous, crushing metal floors and walls a plenty with both raw strength and an invisible force.

You can’t help but watch with wide eyes at the display of raw power, unaware of exactly how much both men were showing off. Savage in earnest, taking secret pride in the way you watched, and Maul in more of a teasing way. He knew what his younger brother was doing, bringing you with him, and while he might have found it annoying if it was anyone else, he found it quite humorous in this case.

After both men conceded and caught their breath, Savage approached and took back the armor you had been holding for him until then. All the while you tried to avoid watching the way his now uncovered chest stretch and pulled with every movement, soon hidden beneath his many layers of clothing once again. At least you were able to confirm the theory about the markings, with identifiable parts matching up against the ones on your own clothing.

Despite the embarrassment of the subtle claiming, it was also a bit infuriating for him to do so without even telling you. It’s not like you could complain though. He technically owned you through the twisted rules of conquest.

The day wasn’t done however as you soon found yourself surrounded by others in the middle of what you surmised was a war meeting, standing just behind Savage as he discussed their next move with the others. No wonder he always came back so wound up. Just listening to all the arguing going on was enough to give anyone a headache, just like the one that was quickly coming to surface and pushing behind your own temples painfully.

Even with all the arguing going on, you were still aware of the stares you received and the whispers that followed. You tried not to pay them much mind to it, knowing they wouldn’t try to pull anything or speak out with Savage there. The same couldn’t be said for Maul, who did nothing to hide his disinterest as he continuously stole glances your way, clearly relishing in the discomfort he caused you.

By the time it was over, your legs were ready to fall off, feeling like jelly after spending hours standing during the meeting, which had stretched into late afternoon. Savage, seeming to sense your exhaustion, swept you off your feet and over his shoulder, all the while you were too tired to protest. Before you even made it back to the room you were out, the excitement of the day taking its toll and leaving Savage to deal with you, leaving both of you in your clothes from the day as he situated you in bed before curling his own form around yours.

If you had thought that your little adventure was just a one day thing, then you were dead wrong, treated to the same rude awakening, rushed out the door and forced to follow Savage around as he goes about his task.

This pattern repeats day after day, and he gradually begins giving you instructions and tasks. You’re led all over the ship, sent from one end to another on various orders for different people. Slowly, you start to become more comfortable and familiar with the surroundings. Finding your way around the ship is no longer a daunting task, with dark and ominous hallways that all looked the same becoming a well visualized mental map.

During the entire time you were learning, Savage was surprisingly patient. Not once did he get angry if you got lost, or took a while finding your way back. He simply just reminded you or where or what was needed in the same short tone he always used.

It took longer than you would care to admit, but eventually you caught on to what he was doing. He was getting you more familiar to the ship in his own way, practically forcing you to know the layout and interact with its occupants while turning you into his unofficial assistant. Thinking about it though, it is what he had said you would be doing in the first place.

Despite recognizing it as a form of slavery still, it made you feel lighter inside that he went out of his way to introduce the concept slowly, instead of just throwing you in headfirst. The feeling was quickly washed away as you remember who he was, beyond his interactions with you. A warlord and Sith who brought nothing but ruin to other planets, seeing them as nothing more than another part of their conquest and unfeeling for those he killed. Your planet was just one of the many to fall to their march.

Becoming familiar with the ship, there were obviously places that became your favorite to visit when there was time. Finding Jay, just to simply watch him progress while he trained and catch up, was the first thing you would do when given the time. Being around him also meant you were around the other Mandalorians, and you grew familiar with some, even friendly as they now extended their own greetings when seeing you run through the halls. It was comforting in a way, not feeling so isolated anymore.

Still, there were times where you simply wished to be by yourself. To take a break and attempt to forget the current situation you were in. The best place to do that was the large view port near the front of the ship.

It was a large window, spanning the entire length of the wall. You had discovered it by accident after getting lost once, taking a half hour to find your way back as there was nothing of importance close by and as a result there was little foot traffic. The lack of people made it perfect for thinking, and provided a beautiful view of the space beyond. It helped the wanderlust you held for the galaxies beyond, places you had never seen, nor had you ever thought you would see.

It was here you currently found yourself, relishing in the dim light of the stars passing outside and the atmosphere that came along with it. Savage would be expecting you back soon, but you could stretch it out a bit longer. Even if you were a bit late, he would only give a side look without saying anything against it.

So lost in the view beyond, you didn’t hear a set of footsteps approaching. Not until he speaks do you realize he’s even there.

“Nice view, eh?”

You jump, turning to face the young Mandalorian who holds his hands up in defense. Having never seen him before, even among the ranks of those who regularly populated the barracks and halls.

“I didn’t mean to startle you!” He smiled lightly, eyes crinkle at the action. “Just saw you standing all by yourself and figured you might want some company.”

Not really, you think to yourself. You came here to be alone after all, but there was no reason to be rude, especially since he had only approached with concern. Why not humor him with some small talk?

“It’s alright.” You smiled back, relaxing against the wall once again and content to continue the conversation. His questions are harmless, hardly even bordering on personal, but the way he seems to grow closer by the second puts a knot in your stomach, prompting you to slowly inch away. If he notices your discomfort he doesn’t mention it, only continuing his actions as his questions quickly turn more personal. Things such as ‘’do you have a boyfriend’ and ‘Which of the rooms are you assigned to?’.

“Listen, it’s been nice talking to you, but I really have to get back to work.” Sidestepping, you try to move around him, only for his hand to latch onto yours. You try to pull away, only for his grip to tighten painfully.

There’s no one around to help nor hear your struggles, and you curse yourself for allowing such a situation to occur. It’s one of the things you had been fearful of in the first place! There was still little you could do about the situation, fearful of the repercussions if you actually hurt him. But then again, Savage wouldn’t let them touch you, right? Surely he of all people would understand the need to protect yourself. He might even be glad you stood up for yourself! With that in mind, you swallowed thickly before drawing your arm back.

“Let go!” You cry, bringing your free hand down to deliver blow after blow. Each strike only bounces harmlessly off his armor, and it's only when you clock him across the face with a force that snaps his head back does he react.

He grunts, one hand coming up to staunch the blood now flowing freely from his now crooked nose. Long gone is the friendly smile, and in its place is a teeth gritting snarl as he tries to pull you closer.

“Listen here you little bitch! Why don’t you jus-”

He never gets to finish his sentence. Instead, he’s lifted into the air by seemingly nothing, eyes wide in shock, before being thrown against the wall with a force that shakes the ground.

It all happens in a split second, leaving no room to process what had just happened before your attention is drawn to thunderous footsteps approaching.

Savage’s aura is dark and menacing, almost tangible as he gets closer. It reminds you of the Rynic back home. Dangerous beast with razor sharp horns and needle like teeth. They were ill-tempered on the best of days, and it was better to just avoid them, should they take you as a threat and charge.

He was like that now, the intention to kill glaring, seeming more like his brother than ever before.

He says nothing, not even sparing a glance at the dazed Mandalorian who’s still pinned against the wall, bleeding nose now the least of his worries as the angry Sith comes closer. It's now you realize that he’s using whatever he had when fighting Maul. The Force, you had heard him call it before. Not something you were well versed in to give a lecture on, but knew enough about from the whispers of traders and those aboard the ship alike.

“How dare you.” He growls. “How dare you touch what is mine!”

It’s now you notice his clawed hand, fingers constricting even tighter in the air as he approaches and prompts more choking noises from the trapped man. His own hands pull uselessly at his throat, trying to free himself from the invisible force preventing him from breathing. His efforts are to no avail, and he’s left at the mercy of the enraged Zabrak as you helplessly watch.

Within seconds his skin is turning blue, color creeping in and spreading like a virus from his lips and eyes, which themselves have become webbed with red, bloodshot and panicked as they dart around the room before landing on your own frozen form.

‘He’s going to kill him.’ You realize with a chill. You knew he was violent, murderous, but he had never killed in front of you before. The sight of which had shocked you, but which was gradually wearing off. If you didn’t do something quick, he was going to die, and while he had assaulted you just moments ago you still felt no desire to see his life slip away before your very eyes.

So, with all the strength you could muster, you launched yourself at Savage’s back, throwing your arms over his shoulders and around his neck in a choke hold. He shook, trying to rid himself of your weight much like a dog would a flea, and while he almost succeeded dug in deeper, legs barely managing to reach around his wide waist, and locked your ankles together.

While one arm remained locked around his neck, the other reached out in an attempt to pull his extended hand down. Maybe if you managed to drag it away from its current position pointed at the Mandalorian, it would break some sort of connection.

It's almost laughable how little you can do against his vastly superior strength, and any hope that you can actually do anything is a pipe dream, leaving you nothing but words as you plea for him to stop.

“Savage! This is crazy!” He seems to not hear, only grunting in mild annoyance as his only response.

By this point the man has stopped struggling, his once struggling form slowing to a stop as his kicking legs simply dangle alongside his hands. He looks like a corpse already, and if not for the occasional jerk of his chest as he tries to suck in air still.

“If I’m anything to you, if I've ever been anything to you, then stop! Spare him!”

Something in your words seems to shake him, his head tilting lightly to catch your gaze over his shoulder. He pauses, hatred full eyes softening just a fraction, before his arm drops. The man’s body follows suit, falling the four feet to the floor, unconscious yet alive. There’s no time to be relieved however, as now with the advantage of both hands, Savage reaches around and grabs you by the collar, easily pulling you over his shoulder where he then proceeds to drag you along the floor, ignoring the way you kicked and struggled as he made his way through familiar halls. Anyone you saw did nothing, content with ignoring what was going on before their very eyes as you made your way to your destination.

A sense of dread filled your stomach as he roughly tossed you onto the bed of your room. There wasn’t even time to bounce off the soft surface before you were pinned down. Large hands worm their way under your clothes, discarding the layers and sashes with ease.

“S-stop! Stop!” You squirm, finally managing to pull away and spin around to face him. “What do you think you’re doing?”

His face is a mixture of anger and confusion, as if he can’t believe the way you’re reacting.

“What am I doing? I’m protecting you, that’s what I’m doing!” His finger stabs accusingly in your direction, voice tinge with disbelief. “You’re so weak and defenseless! If I hadn't come along then who knows what might have happened.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Did he really think that you were so incompetent, so incapable? New rage burned through your veins, emboldening you as you stood chest to chest with him. Your neck was tilted at an uncomfortably angle as you glared at his towering figure.

“Helpless? I got along just fine before you came and kidnapped me! Now I’m living on a foreign ship with people who killed my entire village and two psychotic Zabrak, one of which has some weird obsession with me and has reduced me to nothing more than a glorified secretary!”

He stiffened, aura growing increasingly menacing with every second. His hands flexed, clenching and unclenching by his sides. All of which was lost on you, too far gone and fed up with being ordered around without a choice. Now that the dam had burst, there was no holding it back.

“I would have handled the situation myself! I’ve dealt with far more handsy and stronger men than him! Furthermore I am not some toy to be fought over by grown men acting like children!” You pushed your finger into his chest to emphasize the point, feeling his chest expand as he takes in a deep breath. It's too late that you realize your mistake, and you doubt any amount of groveling will get you out of this one.

Instead, you back up slowly, wearily watching as you back away from his still form. His markings shine in stark contrast in the dim light of the room as he squares his shoulders, blocking any room for escape as he approaches. You’re forced back with every step, retreating until you find yourself backed into a corner. Fleetingly, your eyes dart around the room, landing on the door that seems light years away. If you could just make it there and out in the halls beyond then..then..

Then nothing. You were trapped. Even if you managed to escape, where would you go? He would find you, stuck on this ship, eventually.

Quicker then you’re able to process, one of his arms whips forward, cutting off any route of escape and causing the metal to vibrate with the impact. The ear closest rings dully, and you don;t even have to look to know that he’s left a dent. Hot breath fans across your skin as you stare wide eyed at the floor, not daring to look up and meet his gaze. Heart racing so fast, its amazing you can still hear over the thudding in your ears as he speaks.

“Has the lull of space dulled your senses, or have you forgotten what I said when I saved you from that pitiful little planet you called home. The one so barren and empty that you had to import all your goods. Where you were forced to do back breaking labor in order to survive, if that's what you want to call it.”

The words are like daggers, sinking deeper the longer he speaks as you're reminded of your previous circumstances. You had survived, yes, but could you really consider it living? Then again, how was it any better than your current situation? Instead of having the freedom to provide for yourself, you were forced to bow under the will of others and hope that they were kind enough to keep you around and alive.

He draws closer, leaving you nowhere to go and feeling entirely too claustrophobic.

“You. Belong. To me. I saved you! I'm your protector! And I can do whatever I want to you.”

His once quiet tone has risen to a yell, seeming to shake the very air and finally breaking your resolve.

A whimper leaves your quivering lips. Hardly louder than a whisper, but in the deathly still room it’s like a blaster shot, prompting the sith to freeze. Slowly, his hand raises. Ignoring the way you flinch away as he grips your jaw, he forces you to look at him directly. The calloused skin of his hands scratches at your own as he wipes away the tears now flowing freely. You hadn’t even realized you were crying, but the discovery breaks a sob from deep within.

He rears back like he’s been stung, leaving you feeling cold in the absence of his scorching skin. Stepping forward once again only results in a choking sound escaping your throat, freezing him in his tracks.

“I-I didn’t…” Words fading, his gaze moves from his own hands to your shaking frame and back again. A silent war goes on within him as the voices in his head fight for dominance. All the while you’re left to watch in fear for his next move.

With one last angry growl, he turns on heel and storms out of the room. The familiar beeping of the lock sounds, sealing your fate and you in the room.

Savage doesn’t return for seemingly hours, though it's unknown how long exactly as there was no way to keep track of time. All you know is that, after getting your tears under control and fixing your clothes back into place, you climbed onto the cot and fell into an exhausted sleep, constantly tossing and turning with your nightmares, yet forgetting them the moment you wake, drenched in sweat and shaking.

When you're woken once more, you nearly hurl yourself off the bed as bleary eyes spot a shadowy figure standing above. A hand clasp your ankle tightly before you can even move, pulling rough and dragging you to the edge where they then proceed to hold you in place with their legs alone. The entire time you struggle, kicking and squirming, which is quickly brought to an end as a startling familiar large hand grasps you by the nape, forcing your face into the blankets as he speaks.

“Hold still.”

It's Savage, you realize with a start. The shock of which stills your motions long enough for him to slip something around your neck. The foreign object was stiff, yet not uncomfortable apart from the fact that it was too tight to ignore.

Once in place, he released his grip, allowing you to escape and stumble your way towards the bathroom. The luminescent light was nearly blinding as it flicked on, revealing your latest accessory in the reflective surface of the mirror.

A collar. He had put a collar on you, like you were some sort of pet.

“What the fuck?” You whisper, hand ghosting over the offending wardrobe addition. The majority itself was made up of a thick black material, almost like steel woven fabric. Tilting it forward for a better look, you could see a thick layer of cushion-like material that you assumed was to keep from rubbing the delicate skin of your neck raw. In the very center was the only addition to the otherwise minimal design.

At first you thought it was a tooth or claw of some sort, the rough cone coming to a sharp point. The edges had clearly been smoothed, though you hated to think of how sharp the end was before receiving the dulling treatment.

Movement from the edge of the mirror disrupts your pondering, drawing attention to the lurking Savage. Not wanting a repeat of your last encounter, you're quick to exit the small room, ducking under his sweeping arm as you go.

“What is this!”

You seethe, keeping careful watch and making sure to keep ample distance as you circle the room. He seems unconcerned by your rage, simply watching with a hint of smugness to his heavy features.

“A gift.”

A gift? Was this some kind of sick joke for him? A punishment for what happened yesterday perhaps?

As if sensing your confusion, Savage indulges you and explains further.

“You’ve made it clear that you wish to retain some form of independence, as laughable as the idea is. That,” he gestures to the item around your neck. “Is one of my own horns. As clear of warning there can be, since you seem so against me killing the fools who think to oversteps boundaries.”

You blink owlishly, hand moving to the organic charm. Taking a closer look, you saw that he was indeed down one of his normal crown protrusions, sawn cleanly from his right side.

“Come. You’ve sulked long enough.” He leaves the room, not even sparing a glance back to see if you were following, which of course you were. While he framed it as being for your own benefit, you knew what it really was.

A claim. A warning. However you wanted to phrase it. It all boiled down to one thing; you were his property, and this was his way of showing it. More merciful, and less humiliating, than other ways he could have done so, you surmised.

So, with great reluctance you followed him, feet shuffling and head down.

____Bonus_____

Few things in Maul’s life had given him the same amusement he felt now. From across the room he watched as you sulked after his brother, clearly unhappy. Your displeasure was easy to detect even for those that weren’t force sensitive.

The ‘necklace’, as it was kindly called, rather than the collar it more closely resembled, was already in place and on full display for all. Clearly you were unaware of the implications of what Savage had given you, otherwise your reaction would be of a highly different kind.

The broken horn fragment gleamed, and he noted that he had dulled it just as advised. Though he would have gone for a different design. Something more elegant, and less flashy. It did the job though, screaming his claim and ensuring only an idiot would dare to question his claim, lest they attempt to challenge him for the right to court you. If he didn’t know Savage any better, he might have thought that he was moving extraordinary fast in his advances, but he was one for action first and thinking later, just like when he had those robes made for you.

One thing was for sure, and that was how much he was looking forward to the ensuing chaos. After all, Savage was no ordinary Zabrak, and these were no ordinary circumstances. It was highly unusual for his kind to take mates outside their species after all.

#savage opress x reader #savage opress #savage x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #star wars x reader #yandere #yandere savage #yandere savage opress #yandere x reader #darth maul #tcw #tcw x reader #star wars the clone wars

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odetolove95 · 3 years

Photo

In a pulse of light, Steve found himself standing in an alley in London. One he knew all too well since he had a penchant for picking fights in alleys. His time travel suit dematerialized and he was left in his usual uniform, which seemed a little too much for the timeline he came back to. The real mission was to return the Infinity Stones and get back to 2019, but he figured his Bucky wouldn’t mind if he took a little detour. He wouldn’t be here long anyway.

The back door of the Whip and Fiddle pub to his right was proof that he landed in the right timeline—somewhere in the 40s. He remembered that the Howling Commandos were in there. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea going in there dressed like this.

Not to mention the absolute bizarreness if he met his past self.

But there was no turning back now. He opened the door slightly and peeked inside. The pub was more crowded than he expected. He felt completely out of place. And his new-found confidence fizzled out sooner than it came. Across the hall, he spotted his past self and a young Bucky seated near the bar, busy in drink and conversation.

Steve smiled at the sight of that bright-eyed, innocent Bucky who was willing to fight by his side till the end. This was the Bucky who didn’t know what was about to happen to him. And that was the Cap next to him who failed to protect him.

A pang of pain gripped Steve’s heart. But he brushed those thoughts aside and focused on what he came for. The future, seventy years from here, eventually turned out good, so he drew some reassurance from that.

He wondered if it was simply easier to just barge in there and talk to Barnes himself, but he didn’t want to attract unwanted attention. He had little time too.

Closing the door, he paced back and forth restlessly outside, trying to form a plan. A whole minute passed in that. The thought of his past self struck him. He didn’t stop to think how Bucky would be able to slip out without being noticed. Not to mention the fact that he would be subjected to two Steves.

“Shit,” he whispered.

Abort mission?

No. He came this far and wasn’t about to give up easily. He smoothed his hair, straightened his uniform, as though trying to impress a date. Steeling himself, he walked to the door and opened it.

And came face to face with James Buchanan Barnes.

Both froze, staring at each other for a moment. Bucky scanned him from head to toe, shooting a glance at the bar then back at him. “How...?”

Catching his arm, Steve pulled him into the alley and shut the door.

“How did you get out here so fast?” Bucky’s eyes darted to his uniform and his brows rose. “Am I missing something here? Did you change your hair?”

He couldn’t tell if it was his alcohol-addled brain playing tricks on him or Captain America’s uniform suddenly got an upgrade.

Steve couldn’t lie to him. He had to provide an explanation. Besides, he remembered Bucky’s fascination with the future. He remembered the sparkle in his eyes and his awe-struck face during their so-called date at the Stark Expo. At least, that was how Rogers saw it.

“Yeah, well... I’m not really Steve,” he stuttered. “I mean, I am, but not your Steve.”

Your Steve.

Sweet Jesus.

“I’m from the future,” he added.

An awkward silence followed. So much so that he could imagine crickets chirping nearby.

Bucky gave him a blank stare. “Did you smoke something? Or did I drink too much?”

“No, it’s true. I—” Rogers was about to point to his to the time GPS when he realized it was better not to. “You know what, never mind. I came here because I wanted to tell you something I should’ve said a long time ago.”

Bucky’s mind still struggled to grasp what was going on. Because a few minutes ago, he was sitting next to his best friend, who was in his military uniform, and who then headed to the loo shortly after.

“O-kay?” he said.

This is it. Steve couldn’t afford to mess this up. His stomach fluttered and his heart thudded in his chest. With a deep breath, he mustered every ounce of courage he had. He’d said these words before, in another time, and yet, it still managed to make him nervous.

“For as long as I remember,” he said. “You were all I had. You were there when I picked fights and when I got hurt.” He swallowed. “When my parents died. You were always there. When I had nothing, I had you.”

Bucky's heart melted. But he wouldn’t show it, so he merely smiled. “It’s no big deal, Stevie.”

“It is for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I wish I had told you sooner.”

The smile on Bucky’s face reduced when Steve came close. Too close. That golden hair swept back in a smooth quiff really did it for him. He sucked in a breath. His gaze involuntarily darted to his pink lips. Something about this Rogers was different. His fresh sky-blue eyes had the same glimmer and warmth that Barnes knew well, but something had changed in them. He couldn’t place a finger on what. Either way, they always seemed to stare right into his soul. Put him in a spell he couldn’t get out of.

He cleared his throat. “T-tell me what?”

He didn’t know his bright eyes cast the same magic on Steve.

“I love you, Buck. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

Those words had been weighing heavily on his chest for so long. Now that he finally got it out, he felt exposed.

Bucky’s brows eased, “What?”

“You heard me. You used to--I mean--you were jealous whenever you saw a woman too close to me and I never understood why, because I never felt anything for them. Not the way I do for you. It’s always been you.”

Bucky didn’t respond. His brain stopped functioning a long time ago, and he wasn’t sure if his heart was still beating. He simply stood there, gawking like an idiot. His best friend was in love with him. All this time, he thought his feelings were unrequited.

He didn’t realize how long he remained frozen like that until Steve’s voice snapped him out of the trance.

“Will you say something, please?”

“Huh?” he blurted.

Steve huffed. “Oh, for God’s sake—”

Holding Bucky’s face, he closed the gap between them. Bucky gasped as Cap’s lips crushed his with fervor, tasting his whiskey-tinged lips, and setting his soul on fire. He pushed back instinctively, tugging at Steve’s lips with his teeth. Grabbing the straps on his uniform, he pulled him closer. Their surroundings were a blur, like nothing mattered except them. Every other sound—people and vehicles, all drowned in the background.

Steve would’ve stood there, kissing him for hours, if only he had the time. Slowly and unwillingly, he pulled away.

Bucky’s mouth dropped open as he exhaled a short breath. He might’ve forgotten to breathe the entire time. “Whoa.”

“Yeah,” Steve whispered. He took one look at the alley, checking to see if anyone was looking. “So sorry about this but um, I have to go now.”

“What? Where?”

“It’s complicated. But don’t worry, you’ll get there.” In about seventy years, give or take. “I have to go. Maybe you need to ask that jackass what he feels? The other jackass who’s technically me...”

“O-okay.”

Happiness filled Steve’s heart, like the warmth of the sun on a cold day. “See you around, jerk.”

In the end, this detour was well worth it. He tapped his band and the time travel suit materialized before Bucky’s widening eyes. The latter stared, slack-jawed, at the magical transformation. And in a pulse of light, Rogers disappeared.

Barnes stood there for a moment, staring at the space where the man stood a millisecond earlier, trying to comprehend if all that was real. He cautiously reached a hand out, thinking he’d feel something, anything, but his hand simply waved in the air.

The guy literally just vanished.

“What the fuck...” Bucky breathed. What just happened?

He could still feel Steve’s lips on his. Like a damp, invisible imprint left behind. Dazed, he went back into the pub.

His Steve stood near the bar, raising his arms outwards. “Where did you go off to?”

I met your future self. Or at least, I think I did. “Just went out for some fresh air.” Bucky shrugged, trying to be as casual as he could.

“Well, come on, we’re gonna be late for the briefing. The team’s waiting outside.”

Bucky needed to convince himself that whatever happened in the alley was not some bizarre manifestation of his mind. “Wait. I need to ask you something.”

“What is it?”

“Do you... you know...” Come on, Barnes. Get it together.

“Do I what?”

He bobbed on his feet. “... L-love me?”

Steve stared at him for a moment, mouth parting slowly. Bucky wasn’t sure if that was a good sign. A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck. The last thing he wanted was to ruin their friendship. It was the one precious thing he had.

But he had to know.

A smile crept onto Steve’s face. He blushed as he scratched his head. “I guess. Yeah.”

The relief Bucky felt was palpable. He shook his head, laughing a little under his breath. His heart did the Jitterbug in his chest. A part of him wanted to smack the blond idiot at the back of his head for not telling the truth sooner.

“Stupid punk,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess I deserve that,” Rogers replied. “How did you find out anyway?”

“Well, you keep giving me these googly eyes all the time! I didn’t know if you really... felt that.”

“Of course I do. You are my whole life.”

Bucky scoffed and looked away, hiding the surging happiness inside. The volcanic eruption in his heart.

“I’m sorry,” said Steve. “I should’ve told you. I was waiting for the right time.”

“Yeah? When exactly is that? Your retirement party?”

Steve tilted his head, looking at his friend with those big, blue puppy eyes and a smile that said ‘please don’t be mad’. Bucky absolutely hated it because he could never resist that face.

“Fine, never mind it,” he said. “You wanna... have dinner or something?”

“I know the perfect place. We could go tonight. Eight o’clock.”

“Sounds good.”

The two of them left the pub, walking so close beside each other that their fingers brushed. Good thing the rest of the Howling Commandos were too drunk out of their wits to notice the love in the air.

-- The Words That Should’ve Been Said. (Read full on AO3)

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cherriesfineline · 3 years

Text

Au Pair – Chapter I

It's finally here – I'm sorry this took so long, this past few weeks have been a mess but here it is, our first chapter for the Au Pair series; I kinda hate this, ngl- I always hate first chapters, a lot of introductory info and bla bla but yeah.

In the weird case you happen to enjoy this and want to be added into the taglist (starting next chapter) you can request it here.

Feedback, likes or reblogs are so, so appreciated! I'm very much new to the whole writing world so yeah it'd be really helpful to hear your thoughts about this <3

Love you all, have a wonderful week beauties!

Warnings: none specifically for this chapter – age gap.

WC: 6.6k

Masterlist

Y/N was tired, to say the least.

And it wasn’t the tiredness she used to feel after a long work shift at her previous job -where her boss was an old, grumpy lady with horrible manners- or the exhaustion felt after spending hours crying due to a fight with her mother. No, this was different. It was a tiredness she couldn’t get rid of; a tiredness no lavender smelling bath or hours upon hours of sleep could amend.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment her brain shifted in such a drastic way. Y/N could easily recognize and admit her life had never been an exciting one; a memorable one. Ever since she was a little girl it all seemed to fly by; graduations, birthdays, friendships – nothing ever seemed to leave an impact and nothing ever seemed as exciting as everyone else put it to be. She knew she struggled with allowing herself to enjoy things, but this far her life had been pretty average.

Maybe it was the fact that she was 22 years old and never been in a real relationship what skyrocketed her fear of dying alone. Now, she knew it might seem exaggerated – 22 years wasn’t a long life at all, but the pungent emptiness she’d been feeling felt like her inevitable destiny – like that’s how life was supposed to be for her.

England felt different, though. But in all honesty, her emotions hadn’t had switched into completely different ones like she’d expected to happen when she applied for this job as an Au Pair all the way back in February.

With a steaming hot cup of coffee between her cold hands, she sat down next to Coco (a very soft grey Scottish Fold) on the giant couch of her new home, scratching in between his tiny ears earning a low purr in response. Coco had become one of her closest friends so far, along with Anya, a three year old girl with cute blonde locks and a laugh so contagious it made the muscles on your cheeks ache after a long playdate.

Maybe moving away wasn’t the smartest choice. It actually might be one of the stupidest choices she had ever made, actually – moving all the way across the globe when she cried herself to sleep most nights due to her loneliness overcoming her (almost inexistent) self-awareness. Y/N liked to believe she had a wide understanding of her emotions, but it was a blatant lie.

At least she was distracted for most of the day – taking care of two kids and looking after a teenager wasn’t an easy task. It required a lot of mental presence; but by the time she was in bed at night, it all hit back again. She thought maybe this is how life is supposed to be for her, lonely – maybe it was not her brain playing her tricks but her brain making her see how her life truly was.

It’d been two weeks since the Lockehold family picked Y/N up from the airport, and on one side getting physically adjusted to this new life hadn't been as rough as she thought it’d be. She did have it easy, if she had to admit – a big room in a giant, beautiful home and a car to her disposal. Emotionally, on the other side, life was still the same.

She knew the moment she heard heels hitting the cold marble staircase Bella was on her way down with Ivy, the eldest of the three sisters, following close behind, complaining about a hangout she was apparently going to miss because they “are expecting a guest” as Bella announced, meaning neither of her parents could drive her. That’s how Y/N found herself sitting in her (borrowed) blue Jeep Renegade driving Ivy to her friend Lily’s house – who lived in the same rich, over-the-top neighborhood as her guest family, which meant the ride to and back was no longer than twenty minutes. During those minutes together, though, Y/N could physically feel the irritation running through Ivy’s blood because first, she still wasn’t too fond of Y/N because she is 16 and doesn’t need a babysitter -her words, not Y/N’s- and second, Y/N is still not accustomed to driving on the other side of the road.

Technically, Y/N had the weekends off. Living with the same people who employed her gladly didn’t mean working 24/7, but she hoped she could earn a couple of points in her favor if she took her free time to drive her around.

After a short conversation between the two (where Ivy refused to save Y/N’s number in case an emergency came up because she could always call her dad), Y/N dropped her off and drove back to the Lockehold’s. What caught her off guard, was the sight of someone in the driveway at the house next door getting suitcases out of the trunk of a black cab – there hadn’t been any movement in the old Victorian mansion since she’d moved in next door. A man, definitely very tall, dressed in a dark suit is all Y/N could decipher since it was already dark outside and she had to strictly concentrate on not switching to the opposite side of the road out of habit.

Alex was coming down the stairs when Y/N locked the front door – Bella’s husband was a very handsome man for his age, probably anyone could admit it. He was kind of scary sometimes, but was a true sweetheart on the inside; he’s in his mid-40’s and it was clear as day his family meant everything to him, he even treated Y/N like his own daughter, always making sure she’s comfortable and inviting her to most family hangouts – even though Y/N declined pretty often to allow them to have quality time as a family (and because being too socially involved drained her, but they needn’t have to know that)

“You wanna join us for dinner? We have a guest tonight. A family friend.”

“Oh, no, I'm good, you guys enjoy yourselves. I’ll say hello, though.” Y/N replied with a smile; and as before mentioned, even though she had the weekends to herself, they still loved to insist on her joining them for fancy dinners and whatnot. The Lockehold’s loved being hostesses, loved having people around (from what Y/N learned this past two weeks) but she really wanted -and needed- some time for herself after being with them the entire week, and even though she loved hanging out with them, she just wasn’t in the mood tonight.

“You sure? Bella made homemade pasta, from scratch. Her specialty.” Mouthwatering, Y/N thought. Bella was such an amazing cook, and even though she worked hours upon hours every day, she still came to her husband and kids in time to make dinner every night, not missing a single day.

“Sounds delicious, but I think I’ll pass, I’m just really tired.” And before anyone could make another comment, the loud bell ringing through the main floor of the house startled Y/N as it’s louder than ordinary – and sounded kind of old and creepy, in her opinion. By the time the constant thud in her chest lowered to a normal speed, she could recognize Bella’s voice in the foyer, meaning she was the one who received their guest, with a deep voice following after saying 'thank you for having me'.

"He's here!" Alex clasped his hands together, a wide smile appearing in his face. Y/N followed him into the living room where Bella was already chatting animatedly with a man; tall and with broad shoulders (but not excessively; just the right amount) his figure was leaning slightly forward as he listened to Bella rambling about all the 'good things he had missed while he was away'. His hands were clasped on his back and when he lifted his head, he made direct eye contact with Y/N without even having to search for her eyes. His brown curls were perfectly placed on top of his head looking extremely soft, and when he ran his hand through it Y/N couldn’t help but swallow harshly. He undoubtedly looked like someone who belonged in Hollywood next to a young Leo DiCaprio and he was definitely older than Y/N – probably already in his 30's, she guessed, but ageing like the finest wine. He had the softest looking wrinkles in the corners of his eyes – those eyes, forest green; reminded Y/N of what used to be home for her. His intense gaze held a lot of emotion, a lot of thought, unlike his face, that appeared stiff and cold, with a slight crease between his brows. His pink, heart-shaped lips were pressed in a line, a cute mole adorning one side of his chin.

"Harry! It's so good to see you, we've missed you." Alex's excitement forced him to drift his gaze away from Y/N, leaving her like a heated teenager salivating for him. Y/N honestly thought he might had left her speechless and most likely with increasing probabilities to make a fool out of herself if someone needed her to talk, as she was certain she wouldn't be able to formulate any coherent sentences.

Harry. It totally suited him, Y/N repeated his name a couple of times inside her head to check on its pronunciation. Alex reached him and pulled him in a big hug, patting each other's back, and Harry's lips broke into a huge smile making a line of pearly white teeth appear. And dimples. God, he had dimples.

This is how I die, Y/N thought.

"So good to see you, Alex." If sex was a sound, his voice would definitely be it.

"Your skin is glowing, Harry. Italy always does you wonders." Bella gushed. And she was right – his skin had this beautiful golden undertone, but it looked natural and radiant, almost like the sun itself kissed and caressed his skin with the softest touches. Alex snapped Y/N into reality when he turned to face her and grabbed her hand to pull her closer to them, starting a long introduction no one was paying much attention to, explaining how he’d missed her arrival, like he even cared, and how she was the Au Pair they’d all been talking about ever since February. It wasn’t until Alex mentioned something about Y/N and Harry probably seeing each other a lot she was suddenly interested in what was actually going on.

“He owns the school the girl’s attend.” Alex directed towards her. Now, Y/N assumed the moment she laid eyes on him he was probably rich – who wears a suit to a Sunday dinner with friends? Rich people are weird, that’s something we can all agree on; but owning a school which’s monthly fees per kid were worth three of her salaries? That was quite unexpected.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry." Y/N offered him her hand, trying to sound as casual as possible, even if her skin felt like it was burning under his intense gaze and her eyes were definitely betraying her.

"The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N." He shook her hand. His strong hold sent shivers down her spine; the cold rings making a big contrast against the heat his hand radiated and she couldn't help but fantasize about how his touch would feel in some other places.

The sudden embarrassment feeling hot against her cheeks made her turn around impossibly faster, feeling guilty at the dirty thoughts consuming her brain while around her bosses – and in front of him. Making a beeline straight to her room, announcing she was calling it a night, she sent Harry a quick -but quite charming- smile, and couldn’t help but soften at the sound of Anya running down the stairs yelling an excited ‘Harryyyy’ once she was past the kitchen.

She knew she got lucky with her commodities – an entire studio-like apartment past the main kitchen of the house, where the servant’s area used to be located a handful of decades ago; but she cussed in a whisper when she remembered half way through her making of a sandwich (four hours after she’d retreated to her bedroom and because she decided on skipping dinner that night, not having enough energy to cook) that her lazy ass still hadn’t bought mayonnaise. Her small kitchen had enough space to hold her snacks, along with some ingredients to make a few meals, since she only had to worry about food on the weekends. Reluctantly, she took the small plate holding her sandwich and made her way towards the main kitchen. There was no way in hell she’d eat a sandwich with no mayo – never in a million years, too dry to go down her throat.

I guess they won't mind if I grab just enough to put on my sandwich, she thought. The house was quiet, everyone probably already in bed, therefore she almost pissed herself when she found Harry sitting in one of the kitchen stools, looking down at his phone with an annoyed expression adorning his face. Almost as if he could sense someone was in the same room, he looked up to find Y/N standing at the kitchen threshold, his face abandoning any sort of emotion.

"Hey."

"Hi." Y/N walked towards the fridge on the far right of the kitchen, opposite from where she came in. "Sorry, I thought no one was here."

"Don't worry, just waiting for Bella and Alex to come back down to have some tea, they're putting the girls to sleep. Would you like to join us?" He offered. And honestly, she'd love to say yes and just listen to him talk with that deep, melodic voice, but her stomach was really hating her right now.

"I'm good, just grabbing some mayo. Thank you, though." She declined with a small smile.

"Next time." He sounded more demanding than suggesting, which slightly baffled Y/N. "Can I ask where you are from?" He asked respectfully.

"A small town in the Argentine Patagonia." Y/N replied with her back facing him as she busied herself with the mayonnaise container.

"Never been to Argentina. Or anywhere in South America, actually." And when Y/N turned around, sandwich in hand ready to go back to her room, their eyes met across the kitchen and she felt the heat creeping up her neck for the second time that night. Y/N wondered how his gaze was always this intense – she wasn’t a fan of how they’d barely exchanged a few words and somehow she felt so exposed.

"You should. It's beautiful." She almost, almost, choked on her own words and when she looked down at her fuzzy pink socks and back to him to try and calm her growing nerves down, he surprised her when she caught him looking up and down her body – in any other case she definitely would’ve felt creeped out, but there was something about him, the fact that he definitely didn’t do it with the intention of her catching him (she noticed how he shifted uncomfortably on his seat after the exchange) and how he simply added a “I’m sure it is," afterwards, she knew she was fucked right then and there – she wanted him looking at her. Was that something bad?

But then – then she remembered how she was wearing her soft cotton pajamas, and she began wondering if he was just laughing internally at her outfit instead of checking her out like she initially thought. And just like a save from heaven, Bella and Alex appeared in the kitchen discussing who was picking Ivy up from her friend's house. "Hi Y/N, still awake?"

"Yeah, got hungry. Stole a bit of mayo, hope you don't mind." She shyly held the plate up.

"Please, this is your house too." Alex waved her off.

"Thanks. Gonna go back now." Y/N pointed towards the small hallway that led to her room. "Goodnight." Turning her body to walk away, she caught Harry's eyes, again, still staring at her, but decided on simply walking away, breaking eye contact, making that small interaction their last one for the night.

The following week consisted of Anya and Y/N playing lots of fun games, trying to get a word out of Charlie and Ivy ignoring her for the most part. Her relationship with each of them was completely different, each trusting her at their own peace, getting used to having a stranger around. Anya seemed the only one openly excited to hang out with Y/N every day, and even though she could tell Charlie didn't exactly mind her presence, she still hadn't talked to her as much as she'd like her to.

"What are you up to, Charlie?" Y/N asked the seven year old as she sat next to her in the big playroom they had on the main floor. Charlie kept her gaze locked on her drawing with a handful of crayons on her right hand as she drew with her left. "You're left handed? That's so cool!" Bella had mentioned some time ago that Charlie had a really hard time letting people in, Y/N knew it'd take some time for her to see her as a friend -like she wanted her to- rather than someone who gets paid to hang out with her, but Bella confessed Charlie was actually really excited to meet Y/N, which felt like a small relief, knowing she actually wanted her there – unlike Ivy. Charlie spoke only when necessary and struggled with making friends but her psych pedagogue said she's just really shy and that ‘once she breaks out of her shell, she's unstoppable’. "I love the birds you drew here." Y/N pointed at some small birds sitting in a tree branch.

"Bluebirds." She murmured.

Getting a single word from her was considered progress, in Y/N’s opinion, but that’s all she got for the entire afternoon – even after constantly sending comments her way while playing with Anya so Charlie wouldn’t feel left out, not a single word came out of her mouth. Anya mentioned Harry at some point while talking about her favorite doll (which Harry had gifted her for her 3rd birthday) and the flash of captivating green eyes almost blinded her internally (she couldn’t deny she’d thought about Harry every once in a while this past week)

And it wasn’t until later that same day, after spending a long while sitting alone in a nearby park, she got the chance to see him again – even if he had scared her (almost) to death, she couldn’t help but feel an annoying flutter in her stomach.

She would like to say she loved her long walks during the most unreasonable times at night, but her reasoning behind her late night needs of distraction didn’t exactly thrill her. It was during the quietest and most peaceful times of the day when her mind seemed to speed faster than ever before; the sleepless nights and brain-wrecking thinking of how alone and empty she actually felt, along with the laziness and reluctance when it came to things that used to make her happy weighed her down like carrying a sack of potatoes on her back.

As she was walking past her neighbor's house (the one where she had seen that man with the suitcases last week) she noticed someone sitting on the large porch. Weird, she thought. She hadn't noticed any movement in the house since that night a week ago, to the point she even considered it being empty again. The silhouette seemed oddly familiar though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

"Y/N." She slightly jumped as she heard them call for her, in a strong and deep accent. Was that...

"Harry?" She asked befuddled. Did he live there? She watched as he stood up from his sitting position on the outdoor couch and walked across his front yard to take a closer look at him stopping at the bottom of the short staircase that leads to the porch. "What are you doing up so late?" And then something clicked in her brain – he was probably the man she saw that night, with his suitcases. It made sense, how he probably got home from vacation the same day he had dinner at the Lockehold's – the same day Bella mentioned something about him being in Italy

"Can't sleep." He simply replied, with a small sigh. He then nodded to the seat behind him, and Y/N could physically feel her brain going a thousand miles per minute. She sat on the far left of the couch as he retook his seat on the right, "what are you doing up so late?" He repeated her question.

And Y/N repeated his answer. "Can't sleep."

So they sat in silence, what felt like hours barely being a few seconds. "Didn't know you lived next door." Y/N took the time to take in his side profile - sharp and long nose, the tip curving slightly downwards when he spoke the next line.

"Never mentioned it." He replied apathetically. The unexpected switch in his tone made her immediately shut up, and even though it confused Y/N as to why he would want her joining him if he didn't want to talk, she was dreading going back to her room alone to drown in her thoughts again. She'd take uncomfortable company over being alone when her head got like this, it helped her get distracted; overthinking this situation instead of the same scenarios that constantly lived in her head.

They again sat in silence for a while, this time for longer than a few minutes, and even though it was slightly uncomfortable, there was an unspoken understanding between them. He just wanted company, and so did she. This time, however, it was him who tried for conversation. "Why did you choose England for your Au Pair program?"

"I was actually convinced I was going to choose France," Y/N shared with a soft tone, "but when I met the girls in one of my interviews I just knew I had to come here. Anya was so excited about meeting me, she thought it was already settled." She ended with a small smile on her lips. The memory of Anya smiling happily at her through the computer screen even when she hadn't had met her yet warming her heart.

It was true, the fact that she’d chosen England because of the girls. She wanted to learn French – she knew her way around the English language pretty well; but the French family whom interviewed her didn’t come close to the Lockehold’s at all – she thought maybe the experience of living in a whole different continent with a wonderful family was better than choosing a place because of the language – the experience was being experienced either way.

"Anya is a very special kid. They all are." Harry declared, the left corner of his mouth turning upwards in a small half smile.

Y/N nodded slowly before asking, "How long have you known them?" She could recall Alex saying he was a family friend – but she had no other information about him besides that.

"A while." The small conversation went for a long while, he shared the real reason as to why he was awake so late, explaining how he has struggled with falling asleep ever since he was young, but besides that comment, he kept his life very private; not sharing much information about himself during their chat, and every time Y/N reciprocated a question, he would either answer vaguely or didn't answer at all, changing the subject with another question. "It's really late" He commented, Y/N’s phone reading 1:08am.

"Yeah, I should probably go to bed." She lifted her head to look at him, who was already searching for her eyes. Y/N cleared her throat when a few moments passed by, again, with no one speaking a word. She wondered what could possibly be going through his head at the time, but he nodded, got up and said, "I'll see you around, Y/N." Her name flowed so nicely out of his lips it made her knees get weak. Locking herself in her bedroom (after entering it by the door at the side of the house – which leaded straight to her room) she laid in bed trying to understand why they’d just hang out in his front porch way past midnight when they clearly didn’t know each other very well – or at all, better said.

First day of classes came by in a heartbeat. The first Monday of September Y/N found herself getting up earlier than she was accustomed to, since the girl's sleeping schedule was different during the summer. 6:15am read her alarm when she lazily threw the soft covers off her body. A quick shower and minimal makeup application later, she stood naked next to her bed checking the weather app, as to know how to prepare the girl's clothes.

After putting a soft pink sweater on and a pair of flared jeans, Y/N left the warmth of her room to wake the girls up. Going for Charlie first (since she didn't need any help changing into her uniform and Ivy used her own alarm) she didn't give Y/N any work at all, waking up immediately after softly calling her name once. Picking her uniform from her closet and leaving it for her to change, Y/N left Charlie’s room to walk towards the next door.

"Morning, Anya." She whispered as she brushed some of her hair out of her face. Anya’s little nose scrunched up and a soft whimper left her mouth as she switched positions, now laying on her side, "gotta wake up, love." Y/N shook her arm softly, and she finally opened her eyes, a tired smile creeping up her face as she noticed it was Y/N sitting next to her. Y/N left her to rub the tiredness off her eyes while she picked her clothes (since her daycare was at the same school her older sister's attended -Harry's school, Y/N couldn't help but think- her uniform consisted of only a white t-shirt with the school logo along with any pair of bottoms she chose for the day.

After picking up her cute small rain boots and help her get dressed up, Y/N did a cute hairstyle on her with the small butterfly hair clips she chose, and went back to Charlie's room to do her hair, Anya coming along.

They arrived at their school; a big, period-like brick building with hundreds of students roaming around and a beautiful fountain at the front – which actually made Y/N’s childhood look like a big joke; the school she had attended was located in the middle of the mountains in a remote field.

"I'll be here at two thirty. Good luck, girls, I'll see you later." Ivy walked away sending a 'mhm' her way to let her know she heard her, and Charlie offered a small smile along with a wave and walked away like her sister. Y/N took Anya off her car seat and helped her get out of the car, her tiny backpack sitting on Y/N’s right shoulder as she grabbed the hand Anya offered her.

"Mommy said I have the penguins' classroom!" She said with excitement as they walked through the doors at the right wing of the building.

"That's so cool! I love penguins, let's search for the door which has penguins on it, shall we?" Y/N suggested even though she could clearly see their door at the end of the hallway.

"Yes! This one has elephants," she pointed at the door they were passing, "look, butterflies!"

"Like your hairclips!" Y/N exclaimed, and she giggled nodding her head. "Ah! Look what we found..." Y/N pointed at the next door.

"Penguins!" She skipped towards the door, dragging Y/N along. They entered the big and colorful classroom where they found some kids crying in their parent’s arms, others being as excited as Anya.

"Hi there! Anya, am I correct?" A woman who appeared to be around Y/N’s age came up to them, scrunching down to be on Anya’s eye level. She nodded frantically, excitement dripping from her smile. "My name is Miss Pia, I'm going to be your teacher this year." She introduced herself, Anya gave her an even bigger smile and slyly asked if she could go meet her classmates, to which Miss Pia agreed, asking her to first hang her small backpack in the rack at the back of the room, taking it from my hands and running excitedly to do it.

"You must be Y/N, then?" Miss Pia asked, getting back up to her feet. She was short with blonde curly hair sitting high in a ponytail, rosy cheeks and a cute teacher apron on top of her regular clothes.

"I am." Y/N offered her hand.

"The administration office said we would be having an Au Pair this year, they always give us a heads up with situations like these." She explained, and Y/N nodded as she continued, "we have the parents, nannies or in this case, Au Pairs," they both laughed," stay for the introduction, you can leave afterwards."

"Perfect, I'll sit at the back with the rest of the parents." Y/N ended up staying for about half an hour, smiling at Anya every time she turned to search for her when something exciting seemed to be happening. She won't be needing any adaptation, as Miss Pia said, and she was dismissed right before they had their first trip to the playground outside, taking advantage of the fact that it hadn't started raining yet.

Right when Y/N was walking out of the building, she spotted Harry at the main entrance, reading something on his phone. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white shirt underneath, and he looked even more handsome in the daylight. She made her way towards him, walking up the marble stairs (marble stairs! In a school?), and when he noticed her, he put his phone away and slowly (and trying to be as discrete as possible – which he failed to, again) looked up and down her body. Something about him giving her his full attention made her insides burn, and she couldn’t help but bit her bottom lip to suppress a smile.

"Hi." She stopped in front of him, taking a moment to look at his eyes; they definitely looked a lot lighter now that there was natural light surrounding them.

"Hi." He repeated, "Dropped the girl's off?" He motioned towards the building with his head.

"Yes, just left Anya’s classroom." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Miss Pia?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

"Yes. She's nice, looks like she knows what she's doing." Y/N shrugged. She didn't exactly know her enough to have a conversation about her – and she most definitely couldn’t be one to talk, since she herself didn’t know what she was doing half of the time. “How’s the first day back been so far?” He got cut off from his next comment by his phone, and the small crease between his eyebrows grew deeper, which didn’t go unnoticed by Y/N. "I'll leave you to it." She announced, but his eyes found hers again, and it was almost like he was asking for her to not leave him to it, but Y/N didn’t trust her instincts, not with him – not when he made her so nervous her brain couldn’t process things around him, and she was scared of misreading his expressions; he was hard to read. Not like she was expert at reading people but he was frustratingly confusing.

They didn't see each other again until a week later on a Tuesday evening – the same day Charlie, Anya and her decided to go for a walk and treat themselves with ice cream from a cute shop across from (what had come to be) her favorite park, Harry and Y/N found each other's eyes across his front garden, just like that night, but this time it was easy for her to recognize him as she could see his face clear and glowing from the sunset shine. His eyes were glued to her until the fence that divided their houses blocked his view, and again, Y/N wondered what could be going through his head.

It wasn’t until after dinner, past her work hours, she decided to leave the house through the door on her room with the sparking curiosity to test if she would run into Harry. Stopping on the sidewalk in front of his house, she noticed he was not sitting outside, and even though that's exactly what she had expected -he was not going to sit there for hours and hours, right?- There still was a small feeling of disappointment that rushed through her, and when she snapped back into reality, it was too late to stop herself as she knocked on his front door.

And Y/N didn’t know where to hide – not like hiding would be less embarrassing but God she did hate herself that moment. The embarrassment running through her veins was painful and made her lightheaded – she knew she had trouble sometimes with not thinking things through, but this was beyond her. He barely knew her. And suddenly his door was wide open.

"Y/N?" Of course she was not lucky enough for him to be asleep and not hearing her knock – life would’ve been too in her favor for that to happen. Of course he was very awake with a half drank cup of tea in his hand and the softest looking pair of grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips. "Are you ok? You look really pale." His voice was calm, probably the softest it'd ever been in her presence. At least he doesn't sound mad, Y/N thought.

Harry wanted to be confused, but he was more curious than anything else. For some reason, he felt very intrigued by Y/N – how she seemed confident but insanely insecure at the same time; it reminded him of himself, if he had to be honest. He just learned how to hide the latter.

"Uh, yeah- um, I was-" she nervously turned around halfway to look behind her and back at him again. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity and Y/N really tried her hardest not to step over her words. "I was about to go for a walk, uh, I was wondering if you'd like to join me?" Stupid. So, so stupid, Y/N thought.

"No, I'm good." He replied, finding oh-so-amusing the way her eyes gave her embarrassment away – he was having fun, watching her like a lost puppy trying to think through her next words.

Her mind was, of course, over speeding. She now felt even more embarrassed. Of course he doesn't want to go for a walk, Y/N conscience spoke to her, it's a Tuesday night and he's probably tired and I'm his friends' Au Pair – he probably thinks I'm this young and annoying girl who has a stupid crush and- "would you like to join me?" He interrupted her self-beating up raising his cup and she noticed the half smile adorning his face, almost like he could tell the wheels in her brain were fast-moving.

"Wouldn't want to interrupt-"

"You're not. I wouldn't have invited you in if you were. C'mon in, now. It's kinda cold out here." He disappeared inside of his house, leaving her on his porch with an open mouth and a blank brain. After closing the door behind her and taking her black vans off, she turned on her left as she guessed that was the way Harry went – and she knew she’d guessed correctly when she stepped into a big open-plan concept living room with a giant kitchen on the far back, Harry standing with his back towards her preparing her tea, "sugar?"

"No, thank you." She sat in one of the stools at the kitchen island as she took the scene in front of her. Her very cute (and much older), very hot neighbor Harry, in sweatpants and a very thin white shirt, a small patch of skin showing on his hip, making her tea. His shoulders were broad and she could see his back muscles moving as he poured steaming hot water into the cup, the little curls on his neck so inviting, if only she could run her hand through his soft looking hair just once-

"There you go. Cardamom." He snapped her out of her (probably inappropriate) thoughts, and she thanked him as she grabbed the cup from where he placed it; he stayed in his position standing in front of her on the other side of the island, with his forearms against the cold marble, sipping on his own mug, thinking about how strange it felt to have someone he wasn’t close with sitting in his kitchen after so long. "Why are you up so late?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"I figured. I couldn't either, looks like we both have a bit of sleeping issues, huh?" He sounded playful, but tired. Y/N knew exactly how it felt, being so tired but not being able to peacefully go to bed and get some needed rest.

"I remember you mentioning it before, I figured I'd check if you were up. Walking helps me relax, thought maybe you'd enjoy it too." OK, that wasn't entirely true but her reasoning to be there was quite similar – to check if he was up so they could, maybe, share a quiet night like that one a few weeks ago. None of them understood why they found such comfort in each other’s company – none of them felt like they needed to try too hard.

At some point during their conversation they moved to the couch, where they laid with a wide gap between their bodies. "Elton John's was definitely an interesting read. Lots of crazy anecdotes, you should read it."

"Probably not as good as Keith's, but I'll give it a go." He let a dimpled smile creep into his face, turning his head to look at her from across the couch and the annoying turn her stomach made obliged her to return it, just as bright as his. Finding out their music taste was quite similar made Y/N’s insides all warm and fuzzy, he showed her his vinyl collection (which was quite large) and ranted about how the modern industry was missing a rock star with some of that unexplainable essence old rock bands have – to which she respond saying maybe that something that makes them special was the fact that they were old bands... added to the fact that even though she was an old music lover, modern pop was her guilty pleasure.

Their third teacups were long forgotten on the modern coffee table by the time he noticed Y/N’s eyes were slowly beginning to close and he, as last time, said, "it's really late." And Y/N only nodded and tiredly got up from her position, with him following close behind.

"Goodnight, Harry. Thank you for having me even though I came unannounced." She shyly said, her actions still making her embarrassed even though it had already been a couple of hours.

"My pleasure. We should- do this again," He coughed into his hand, and uncomfortably continued, "I enjoy your company." That sentence alone made her heart explode with a thousand emotions, because even though they barely knew each other and it clearly pained him to admit he enjoyed having her around, his presence made her calm but anxious in a peculiar mixture of emotions. All she did in return was gift him a big smile, face hot of embarrassment (a nice kind of embarrassment, that feeling when you just want to smile really big and tightly hug whoever is making you feel that way) and slowly pushed herself up on her tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Bye." He said lastly, and closed his front door with red cheeks and dimples on display.

- Joey.

#AP #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #age!gap harry #my writing

154 notes · View notes

sambvcks · 3 years

Text

redefined, b.b. x reader

summary: just because those ten words no longer wreak havoc on his mind does not mean they are gone. just redefined.

warnings: mentions of food, blood, gunshot wound

word count: 3.7k....whoops

author’s note: first standalone! i’m also itching to work on a sam story next. the last episode still lives in my mind rent free and this is a reworking of that which diverges from civil war and we get one big happy avenging family that aren’t dead :)

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Longing

An Avenger.

The concept was still so foreign to Bucky, despite dozens of successful missions under his belt and a permanent residence in the tower. Still, every morning he sprung up in bed expecting to still be in some run-down apartment halfway across the world, on the run.

Instead, he would awake on a plush mattress that offered little back support. He would shuck on the first shirt his bleary eyes could see and pad into the hallway, the smell of fresh coffee overtaking his superhuman sense of smell. You would be perched at the kitchen counter, pouring over mission files stained with coffee rings that Tony would later complain about.

Steve and Sam would have already come through on their way to their morning run, the coffee pot running dangerously low. You’d already placed his favorite mug nearby, two packets of sugar emptied into the bottom. A routine.

Bucky didn’t think he’d ever have a routine again.

His hand would press against your shoulder in a familiar greeting as he passed, you’d grin up at him with sleepy eyes and a lazy smile before returning to your work. Your cereal sat forgotten beside you, the overly sweetened kid’s choice growing soggy.

It was a silent and comfortable interaction. Neither worked to fill the quiet or felt the need to. Even with Steve, there was always talking and planning and ‘what about this’. With you, it was so natural to just exist how he was in that moment. No excuses, no whispered apologies.

He pushed his back against the sink as he sipped at his coffee, eyes immediately settling on your distracted figure. Your pajamas were wrinkled, mouth formed into a perfect concentrated from as you hunched uncomfortably, hand scribbling furiously. He swallowed and decided you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen, especially with your coffee breath and fingernails chewed to nubs.

He wanted so desperately to move across the kitchen and press himself perfectly against you, to push aside your paperwork and demand your sole attention. His hand clenched into a fist as he longed to feel your soft, round cheeks in his hands, how warm you would feel against the cool metal of his left and how you’d nuzzle closer still.

He hadn’t heard the dragging footsteps of Steve and Sam returning from their run and didn’t even notice them until they were settled at the doorway, watching him watch you.

“Morning.” Steve grinned, all knowing. Bucky cleared his throat and refocused on his mug.

“Morning.” Bucky replied with a look that said ‘don’t say anything’.

Rusted

Bucky learned that if you weren’t cooped up in your room or camped out on the kitchen island, you were tucked away in Tony’s garage. On slow days where it seemed everyone was off in their own little world, Bucky would know to find you under the hood of one of Tony’s vintage cars, each kept in pristine condition, but you claimed that ‘there’s always something to work on’.

Bucky was never a car guy. His family was too poor to even think of ever owning his own car. He didn’t even have his own license and technically couldn’t legally ride his bike either. He found out quickly that being an Avenger meant the term legal could be bent a bit. So, he wasn’t a car guy. But the sight of you with streaks of grease across your face and your raggedy workshop clothes would have him buying one just to see you work on it.

You were notoriously protective of your little hideaway, the music loud and the sound of metal ringing as you fixed and fiddled with every little thing. Steve nearly got a wrench to the face when he tried to distract you from Tony’s antique Chevy.

Bucky was different, though. He was always different.

He would sit himself on a tall stool positioned next to one of Tony’s many rolling tool chests. You’d call out a tool and he’d rifle through the collection until he found what he thought was the right one and only slightly tease him when he’d emerge with the wrong one. Typically, you’d spend these afternoons in silence, the thumping of the heavy base of whatever crazy metal album you picked the only soundtrack to your work.

Sometimes, though, you’d play gentle rock music. Bucky would ask questions on what you were doing, how you learned to do all of this, why you did it when Tony worked on these cars enough for the both of you.

You’d fish your rag from your pocket, concentrating on scrubbing the grease from under your fingernails as you answered.

“I like using my hands. I like fixing things. For every car that Tony has in this garage, there are hundreds just like it sitting in junkyards gathering cobwebs and rust.” You looked up at him from under eyelashes and Bucky knew you were speaking about much more than just hunks of metal. “They’re worthy of love and care.”

You were talking about him, too.

Seventeen

Bucky didn’t think this superhero business would have so many parties. There seemed to be a celebration for everything. Galas, fundraisers, full on parades whenever Tony happened to wake up in a good mood.

At least this one is a holiday, he thought to himself as he nursed his third beer of the hour. Not that it did anything other than keep his hands occupied.

The year was coming to a close, and the top floor of the Avengers Tower was decked in golden confetti and banners to ensure no one forgot. The music was obnoxiously loud, and the lyrics made little sense, but everyone seemed to be having a good time mingling and even venturing to the dance floor.

No matter how many times Sam tried to drag him in with an invisible rope, Bucky was not going to dance. Well. Maybe he would if you asked.

The party had been in full swing for hours now, with only ten minutes until the ball a few blocks up finally dropped and he could sneak away to his room without a teasing ‘bedtime already, old timer?’ from Nat.

Still, the party raged on and he eyed the glass door to the balcony. He downed the last of his beer, brushing past enthusiastic partygoers with his shoulders hunched forward in some attempt to minimize the space he took up in the room that only seemed to be getting smaller. He caught Steve’s eye on the way out and plastered on a smile in response to his disappointed look.

He let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding as soon as the glass door slid closed behind him. His eyes closed as he leaned back against it, the chill of the December New York air blew his hair in every direction.

“Fancy meeting you here.” You were sat in the far corner, so well hidden he hadn’t even noticed you, though he had been on the lookout for you all night. “Tired of the festivities?”

“And Tony’s music.” He grumbled as he fell into the seat beside you.

“Been waiting for you for the past thirty minutes. Honestly, you made it a lot longer than I could’ve in there.”

You were waiting for him. You wanted him to be there, with you, tucked away from everyone else’s prying eyes. He wanted that, too. Sometimes he wanted it so much it scared him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, doll. It’s not polite for a gentleman to make a girl wait.”

“Hmm, I think I’ll find it in myself to forgive you.” Your shoulder pressed against his, eyes focused on the smattering of buildings surrounding you. Identical parties were happening in each of them, you were sure. “Can you believe another year is gone?”

“I can’t believe I’m about to make it to 2017 and my back hasn’t given out yet.”

You laughed, loud and unabashedly in a way only Bucky could make you laugh. Head thrown back and eyes glittering from the city lights, Bucky wanted to spend every new year you would allow him to by your side, trying his best to make you laugh again.

“Well,” You stood to peer over the glass railing, Bucky close behind you. You could hear the drunken cries inside as the countdown begun. “I’m glad you did.”

“Me too.” Bucky offered his hand to you. You took it easily.

5, 4, 3…

He wanted nothing more than to pull you close, to finally press a kiss on the lips that had thrown teasing remarks at him during missions. To once and for all end this little dance you both loved so much. But you looked so perfect.

Bucky wasn’t ready to ruin that perfection with everything wrong with him quite yet.

“Happy 2017, Bucky.” You whispered as the fireworks started, but Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes from you.

“Happy 2017, doll.”

Daybreak

The mission had been long and grueling. The week-long stakeout turned into two and quickly turned into a month away. You can’t remember the last time you’d had a good night of sleep that wasn’t interrupted with Bucky’s hand on your shoulder, telling you it was your turn to keep watch.

It wasn’t a horrible mission, more of an exercise in patience and restraint than anything. Bucky’s stories kept you entertained enough, and he was a good partner. Which is why you were paired together more often than not.

Still, it was nice to finally collapse into your familiar bed, not even bothering to kick of shoes or take a much-needed shower. Your sleeping schedule was all out of whack and you tossed and turned, despite the exhaustion seeping through your bones.

After fifteen minutes, you finally huffed a sigh of defeat and stumbled back to your feet. You showered, which was a few good days overdue, and dressed in your largest, most comfortable pajamas.

You weren’t surprised to see Bucky up as well, sitting at the dining table with a mug of fresh coffee.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His foot kicked out the seat beside him as an invitation.

“Sleeps overrated, anyways.” You shrugged, slumping into the seat and pressing your face into the cool glass of the table.

“Sleep is good for you.” He insisted, reaching forward to brush aside the hair that had curtained over your face. “You deserve a good night’s rest.”

“So do you, Buck.”

He stayed silent for a while, just sipping at his coffee and stealing glances at you, face trained out the floor to ceiling windows. He really didn’t know what he deserved, anymore. Sure, he had made some semblance of peace with what the Winter Soldier had done with his body. He was better, that was certain.

Worthy of you and all your unwavering sweetness? He wasn’t so sure.

You idly chatted about nothing for hours, filling comfortable silence with talks of the mission and the food poisoning he had given you when he tried to make dinner two weeks in. You sat side by side until day broke the next morning, eyes squinting at the sun peeking over skyscrapers and finally finding the need to fall shut in rest.

“I guess I should say ‘good morning’ instead of ‘good night’.” You were the first to stand, shuffling towards the hallway that led to your bedroom.

“Good morning.” He answered as you padded away, deciding he would be just fine losing sleep every night if it meant he could watch the sunrise by your side.

Furnace

“Doesn’t Tony make enough money to keep this place at least habitable?” You grumbled as you fell into the couch beside Bucky.

“I’m fine.”

Bucky sat in his patent jeans and t-shirt, unphased by the temperature that practically had your teeth chattering. You were bundled in multiple layers, including one of the many sweatshirts he’d wear jogging on cold mornings and blankets you had stolen off his bed. Your glare from under your cocoon of warmth rivaled even his.

“I’m not a muscle-y super soldier-”

“You think I’m muscle-y?”

“-that runs so hot you’re basically a personal furnace.”

“Oh, so now I’m hot.”

“I would strangle you to death right now, but I’m about to lose my fingers to hypothermia.” You burrowed further into your smattering of blankets with a violent chill running down your spine. Bucky simply rolled his eyes and marked the spot in the book he had been reading before you stormed in.

“C’mere.”

He balled up a fistful of one of your blankets, tugging you even closer to him. You opened your arms to allow for direct contact, sighing contently as your face pressed into his shoulder and legs tangled with his. You sighed contently as you welcomed his warmth, shimmying as close as you could get.

“Better?”

“The best.”

Nine

“Do you ever think what your life would be like? If you’d gotten to go home?”

Even a year ago, this question would have turned Bucky into a brooding mess. He would have delved into every little moment he had missed, every plan that had been turned upside down when he fell from that train all those years ago. But he was better now, more contemplative. He wouldn’t drown in the idea of what could have been because he knows what it’s like to be on the other side.

“I like to think I would’ve gone to college.”

“Really?”

“You calling me dumb, doll?”

“No! You’re the smartest person I know. I’m just picturing you at college. Carrying textbooks and wooing all the dames.” You fell into him at the thought, a fake swoon overtaking your face.

“I’d be too busy studying for dames.”

“Studying what?”

“I always liked math. Maybe engineering or something. Wanted to be a teacher before the draft.” He shrugged like the information was no big deal, but to you it was everything.

“Professor Barnes. Kind of sexy.”

“Oh, shut up.” But his words held no malice. Instead, he was grinning that cheeky grin that pulled his cheeks into perfect rosy apples and his eyes crinkled in joy. “I wanted to have ten kids.”

“Ten?!”

“So we’d be a dozen. My own little army of mini-Buckys to take over the world. Couple sets of twins, maybe. Definitely as many girls as I could manage.”

Of course Bucky would be a girl-dad. Playing dress-up for fake tea parties and scaring off boys when they’d come ‘round for first dates. You could imagine how he’d learn how to take care of their hair and plait intricate braids when they asked. He would make breakfast for the whole bunch, kiss his wife goodbye before escorting them to the bus stop and taking off for a day of teaching classes. Bucky would be an amazing father.

An amazing husband, too.

“I think ten may be pushing it, Barnes.”

Bucky pictured it, too. A little more modern than maybe the image you conjured up. Teaching was replaced with small missions. The gaggle of kids were smaller, and he wouldn’t have to kiss his wife goodbye. You’d be in the car next to him, headed to the tower for your morning briefings together.

“I’ll settle for nine.”

Benign

If you were to ask any New Yorker what they think the Avengers do on Friday afternoons, they would probably say something like ‘kicking ass!’. None would get even close to what your actual routine looked like.

None would imagine The Winter Soldier lounging in a bathrobe, hair knotted into a bun at the top of his head as his fellow world-saving Avenger spread some green goop over his face. Chinese takeout boxes littered the living room coffee table, his feet were bubbling in warm foot spa.

“To keep your youthful complexion!” You had promised him. He didn’t comment on the obvious sound of your phone’s camera clicking.

He knew he must have looked completely ridiculous. But as you sunk into the couch next to him with identical spa treatments covering you, he couldn’t find it in himself to really care.

He never thought in a million years that he would have the chance of boring, completely benign afternoons. He thought he would be sidelined to violent missions for the rest of his life, to being thawed out like a microwave meal every time he was deemed useful. Sure, he felt a bit ridiculous when you reached over to adjust the slices of cucumber placed over his eyelids, but he also felt so relaxed.

As you settled even closer to him, head tilting to rest on his shoulder, he would happily take the teasing remarks from Sam when you showed him the pictures.

Homecoming

Peter wasn’t crazy about the idea of getting ready for his senior year homecoming dance at the tower. But Aunt May was upstate on vacation with Happy and he still didn’t know how to tie a tie.

“Oh, you look so handsome, Peter!” You gushed as your fingers worked on his tie. Bucky stood to the side, holding MJ’s corsage in a delicate plastic container. Peter had been careful to find the perfect color, with a little guidance from you. The white dahlias matched perfectly with Peter’s light green tie.

“Thanks, Ms. (Y/L/N).”

Peter, ever the polite kid.

“Be safe, kid. Have her home at a reasonable time and no wandering hands.” Bucky handed over the corsage with a supportive slap to Peter’s shoulder. He was quick to promise that he would follow all the rules before making a dash to the door, just as you were about to ask for pictures.

“Don’t wait up!” He called as the elevator dinged behind him.

“They grow up so fast.” You sniffled. “I didn’t even go to my homecoming dances.”

“Why not?”

“Nobody ever asked me.” You shrugged, collecting the other ties Peter had picked from and hanging them carefully over your arm. Tony didn’t have to know that Peter was taking one of his priceless Versace neckties to a homecoming dance.

“To be fair, I would’ve been scared shitless to ask you to a dance.” Bucky followed close behind. “And I fought a war.”

“That’s sweet, Buck.” You brushed him off as you retreated into Tony’s closet.

“No, really.” His hand caught your elbow. “I would’ve been the luckiest guy in town if I had you on my arm.”

You fell asleep that night imagining you and Bucky twirling around a dance hall without a care in the world.

One

Steve’s hand was firm against your shoulder, his tactical glove soaked and dripping with your blood. Your eyes were unfocused, head lulling every so often when the fight to keep it steady just seemed too difficult. Sam was at your other side, cracking jokes to try to keep your attention on him and not of the literal bullet lodged in your shoulder.

You were escorted from the jet in a flurry, doctor’s hands replacing Steve’s. You barely winced when you were administered painkillers and the ache begun to subside. Before you could blink, you were lifted onto a gurney in the medical bay and the clink of the bullet that had been dug from your flesh rang through the room as it clattered into a metal dish.

Bucky ran in just as the doctor finished maneuvering a long roll of gaze around your shoulder, scheduling a time for you to return to have it cleaned and reapplied again.

“What happened?” He brushed past the doctor without a second glance, eyes trained on your figure pressed against the sterile hospital bed. “Steve said-”

“It’s nothing. Steve likes to be dramatic.”

“-that you were shot!”

“Oh, well. Yeah, that happened.” You moved to sit up, your arm immediately giving out under the weight. Bucky moved even closer to help you, hand careful on your back like you were made of glass. “But just the one time.”

“As far as I’m concerned, one is too many.” He watched the gauze turn darker against your skin; your eyes screwed shut in pain as your knuckles turned white against the sheets. “And you’re never going on a mission without me again.”

Freight Car

“You’re free.”

He remembers those worlds so clearly, it’s like him and Ayo are still sat next to that crackling fire in Wakanda. He thought that had been it. He would never again worry about those ten phrases that erased Bucky Barnes and allowed a machine to emerge from his memory.

As he stole glances of you from the corner of his eye, shadowed by his unruly hair, he knew those words still very much existed in his mind.

They weren’t a means to an end, anymore. He didn’t have to grit his teeth and clench his fists to fight them off. They were new, now. He saw each of those words in you and realized just how important they are now they they’ve found a new meaning.

His love for you came easy.

One second, he was looking at his friend. She was looking back at him and he felt safe.

Your fingers brushed over his shoulder, where flesh turned to metal, and you looked away as though you hadn’t just made him fall in love with you with a single touch.

It took three years for Bucky to make a move. Another party, another escape plan to the balcony where you were waiting for him, like always. The last time you had found yourselves in that position, he had been too unsure. Too wary of what it would mean and if it was too soon.

Now, he didn’t care. He just wanted you and to be selfish and not think about consequences when he leaned forward and finally pressed his lips to yours.

You pulled back, but not far.

Something clicked.

Your love for him hit you like a freight car. Swooping in from nowhere but really, you should have felt the rattling of the tracks beneath your feet. You should have seen all the signs that you loved him and he loved you back. In stolen glances and easy afternoons, in hard missions and bloodshed. He was there, and he looked at you like that. Like everything his body had done was to finally make it to you in this moment.

He waited, patient. He had waited this long, what was another few seconds as the realization washed over your features?

“Oh.” Was your clever whisper.

“Yeah.” Bucky’s hands cradled your face, “Took you long enough.”

taglist: @bibliophilewednesday @teti-menchon0604 @thiswasnevermylifefromtony @spid3rgwen @beautyandthebleh @victoriabaker112213 @orthellqs @phasma-trash

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes/you #bucky barnes/reader #marvel imagine #tfatws imagine #sab writes

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inkblotsandpapertrails · 3 years

Text

Unstoppable Force, Immovable Object [K.O]

Tags: Enemies to lovers, slow burn,

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Description: For reasons you don’t care to express, you find yourself in need of sanctuary. It’s a shame you have to share that sanctuary with Kyoya Ootori, of all people.

A/N: i had an idea and i needed to run with it. also can yall tell i have a small grudge against bubbly reader personas?

“I want a job.”

Ootori Kyoya was way more intimidating in person.

You’d seen him around school, with Suoh Tamaki at his side and a notebook permanently in his hands. He had an air of mystery that you couldn’t deny was intriguing - you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about approaching him. But those thoughts were quickly extinguished whenever you got a good look at his eyes. They were pretty eyes, certainly - dark and intense and piercing. But no matter what was happening, he always looked like he had something better to do. He could wear as many polite smiles as he wanted, but the message in his eyes was clear – there were about a hundred things more important for him to do than stand here and talk to you. And now you were experiencing it first-hand.

“You want to be a host?” He said, more statement than question, as he gave you a quick look up and down. Whatever he was looking for, he definitely didn’t find it, as he simply turned back to his notebook and continued his constant scribbling. “I’m sorry, but Tamaki handles all host applications, and he has a very strict process.”

You furrowed your brow, just enough so that he wouldn’t think you were glaring at him (despite how much you wanted to).

“I don’t want to be a host. I want a job.”

Kyoya raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your stubbornness.

“And what jobs do you expect the Host Club to give out, other than host itself?” He asked, not even bothering to look up from his notebook.

“Fujioka-san started as your errand-boy.” You said firmly, refusing to be brushed aside. “I can do that. I’m fast, I have an old cell I can use if you want to send me orders when I’m not around, I can even pay for all the supplies myself!”

Kyoya finally looked up from his book with his eyebrows ever so slightly knitted, a tiny sign that you’d gotten past his icy façade.

“May I ask why you’re so desperate to be an errand runner, of all things?”

“I am not desperate.” You seethed through gritted teeth. “I just need a place to stay after school and during lunch hours. No other club would let me join unless I took part in their activities – at least this way I don’t have to break my back building sets for the Drama Club.”

You decided to leave out your extra argument that the Host Club was one of the smallest clubs at Ouran, thus limiting the possibility of people annoying you while you were there. You knew it wasn’t really an insult, but it wasn’t exactly a compliment, either, and as mysterious as Kyoya was, you knew his pride was not to be trifled with.

“And why are you so in need of a place to stay?” Kyoya asked, a flickering flame of curiosity in his eyes, as if you were some abstract painting he couldn’t decipher the meaning behind. You frowned, suddenly feeling bare. You’re not entirely sure what he was trying to find, but nevertheless, you felt exposed.

“I don’t think that has anything to do with whether you should give me a job or not.” You said firmly, trying not to clench your fists. “If anything, this set up would be in your favour. If you have more time to spend in the club, you’ll bring in more clients, and therefore bring in more interest. I know you use that weird auction-point system on your website – more interested clients means more money. I don’t even have to spend time in the actual club room – you have a back rooms and supply closets, right? Your guests won’t even notice that I’m there.”

Kyoya frowned for a moment, before snapping his book shut and sighing heavily.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.” He muttered as he opened the door to Music Room Three. “Tamaki! How do you feel about getting a new dog?”

Before you could yell indignantly at his ‘dog’ comment, Suoh Tamaki burst through the door, as eager and starry-eyed as ever.

“I knew you’d listen to my id-!” He paused once his eyes landed on you, his eager grin falling into a pout. “Kyoya, that’s not a dog!”

“I should’ve known you were too idiotic to remember that reference.” Kyoya sighed. “This is...” He trailed off, blinking behind his glasses. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I ever asked for your name?”

You fought the urge to punch the rich bastard in his smug face. He clearly had never intended on even giving you a chance – you had no idea what had changed his mind, but he obviously didn’t think it would be changed at all from the start. You decided to just be grateful that you did change his mind and leave it at that.

“My name is [Y/N] [L/N].” You said as politely as you could muster, tilting your body forward in a respectful bow. “I want to be your errand-runner. You don’t have to pay me, I just want a place to stay during lunch hours and after school. I promise to be quiet and respectful, and to not disturb your club activities or your guests. I hope you will at least consider it.”

You stepped out of your bow, making sure to keep your shoulders square and your chin up; the last thing you wanted was for the Host Club President to think you were too sloppy to set foot in their club room. Tamaki stared at you for a moment, his eyes wide, but unreadable, and holding his chin in his hand. You tried not to fidget under his gaze – he always looked so carefree around school, so this moment of strange seriousness was starting to get under your skin. Just as you were about to say ‘forget it’ and turn the other way, he broke out in a wide grin and tackled you into a hug.

“Kyoya, they’re so cute!” Tamaki squealed as you gasped for air in his grip. “Where did you even find this kid?! They’re so serious, I can barely handle it! Adorable, just adorable!”

“Let go of me!” You yelped as he began to spin you around. “What the hell’s up with you, I just wanted a job-!”

“Sempai, what are you doing?!”

A fist shot out from the corner of your eye and slammed into Tamaki’s head. He yelped and finally stopped that godforsaken spinning, but he kept you tight in his grip, holding you high enough that your feet didn’t touch the floor and you hung in his arms like a stuffed animal.

“Haruhiii!” Tamaki whined, rubbing his head with one arm. You immediately perked up at the opening and tried to wriggle your way out of his grip, but he wouldn’t budge. “That was so mean! I was just saying hi our newest member!”

“Newest member?”

You finally stopped searching for an escape from Tamaki’s death grip and landed your gaze on the person in front of you. They were of average height and build, with a short mop of tousled brown hair, and an evenly toned voice – it was basically impossible to decipher what gender they were. Still, they looked kind enough, with concerned eyes and a small, approachable smile, looking at you like you were a spooked animal they needed to calm.

“Hi.” The person said gently. “I’m Haruhi Fujioka. I hope Tamaki isn’t bothering you too much?”

You blinked in surprise. So this was the famous commoner that had taken the girls of Ouran Academy by storm. They were far kinder than you expected – you had kind of assumed everyone in the host club would be perfectly polished into some fake persona, but Haruhi seemed totally genuine.

“[Y/N] [L/N].” You said as politely as you could while being held like a ragdoll. You held out your hand and tried to smile. “It’s nice to meet you?”

Tamaki squealed from above you, tightening his grip around your waist.

“Aren’t they just adorable, Haruhi? I’m taking them under my wing, right this second! Don’t worry, you’re still daddy’s favourite, but-“

“[Y/N] here is going to be our new errand runner.” Kyoya interrupted. “Since you were the first to have that title, perhaps you could show them the ropes.”

“Errand runner?” A babyish voice asked. A small boy, probably the smallest out of all the club, came running up to you with wide, child-like eyes. You frowned in confusion – this boy looked like he was at least ten years younger than you, yet he wore an high school uniform? Not to mention you hadn’t seen him in any of the first year classes. Perhaps he skipped a grade? Or five?

“Yes, Hani-sempai.” Kyoya nodded patiently, ignoring your strangled splutter at the word ‘sempai’. “However, while they are technically a member of the club now, they are not a host. Meaning you are not to be distracted by them, understood?”

The boy pouted, his eyes beginning to shimmer with tears. You tried not to scream – how did he start crying so quickly? Who the hell was this kid?!

“But they look so cute, Kyo-chan!” He whined. “They look just like Usa-chan, being held like that!”

“Believe me, I do not want to be.” You grumbled. The boy cocked his head sympathetically and turned around with a wide smile.

“Takashi! [Y/N]-chan wants to come down.”

Before you could ask just who the hell this kid was calling [Y/N]-chan, a pair of hands grabbed you by the shoulders and hauled you out of Tamaki’s grip. You squeaked pitifully when you came eye-level with quite possibly the tallest man you’d ever met, taller than any of the men in your family. His face was stone-blank and his eyes were practically unreadable – combine that with how he had you lifted several feet off the ground, he was pretty intimidating.

“Hi?” You said meekly. The man smiled and set you down carefully on the floor before patting you once on the head.

“Mori.” He said gruffly. You paused for a moment, waiting for him to continue. He did not.

“Oh.” You smiled awkwardly when you realized that was all he had to say. “Well, um. I’m [Y/N].”

“Mori-sempai, how could you!” Tamaki cried from the doorway. “Don’t you know you’re intimidating them, grabbing them like that?”

“Then how is what you did any different?!” Haruhi snapped.

“It is completely different!” Tamaki huffed as he began marching to where you and Mori were stood. “I’m the father!”

Before you could snap that he definitely wasn’t your father, Mori was shoving you away from Tamaki’s warpath and sending you hurtling across the club room, only to be caught by two pairs of hands.

“Seriously, boss?” One of the boys holding you sighed. You recognized the fluffy orange hair from a few of your classes, but you couldn’t quite place his name. Nevertheless, he looked entirely bored with this whole ordeal. “You couldn’t at least find us someone fun for our new hire?”

“Excuse me?!”

“That’s true.” You blanched when you noticed that the other boy you’d collapsed into was identical to the first. Twins? You remembered seeing two shocks of orange hair in your classes, but you always tended to keep your head down and stay quiet in classes, so you’d never really given them a second look. “[Y/N]’s been in our classes for two months now, and they never say anything to anyone! Unless it’s to yell, that is.”

“Tamaki’s the president and his decision is final.” Kyoya shrugged and made his way to an armchair in the middle of the club room, clearly done with this interaction.

“I – what?!” You yelped. “But he didn’t even make a decision! You just dragged me in here and everyone started going crazy!”

Kyoya shot you a tired look.

“Fine.” He said simply. “You said you wanted a job here. Tamaki, are they hired?”

Tamaki grinned and nodded eagerly.

“Then consider your application accepted. You can start by fetching us some coffee, we’re out.”

He opened a sleek silver laptop and began to type, not waiting for you to respond. The twins groaned, still not letting go of your arms.

“Well, I suppose we’re stuck with them.”

“I don’t know about that, Hikaru.” The other shrugged – you made a mental note that his voice was a lot less snarkier than his brother’s. “This might be a great opportunity for some new games! After all, we’ve never had a tsundere in the club before!”

“Tsundere?!” You squawked indignantly. You pulled yourself out of their grasp and onto your feet, stumbling away and putting as many steps between you and them as you could manage. “Okay, yeah, I think this might have been a mistake. I’m sorry for wasting your-“

“Not so fast, [Y/N].” Kyoya said from where he was sat, his eyes still fixed on his laptop screen. “A verbal contract is binding in Japan. You can leave if you’d like, but I warn you, my family’s lawyers are the best in the country.”

“You’d take me to court for this?!” You cried. “But you didn’t even want me here!”

“It’s the principle of the matter. You offered your services, and we accepted. You can’t just back out now.” He reached into his pocket and fished out a gold credit card. “I’ll print you a card you can use for the club’s expenses by the end of the day. For now, you can use mine, but I will have you know that any unauthorized purchases will have consequences. And I want the number for that cell you mentioned.”

You gritted your teeth and snatched the card from his hands. You grabbed the cell from your pocket and practically threw it at his smug face. He caught it with ease. Asshole.

“Alright...” He murmured as he added your phone to his contacts. “I’ll send you all the number.”

You took your phone back and shoved it into your pocket.

“Anything else, Ootori-sempai?” You growled. He raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Coffee. As I just said.”

You were going to kill him.

#ohshc #ouran highschool host club #ohshc x reader #kyoya x reader #kyoya ootori x reader

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 3 years

Text

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 10

A/N: I can’t believe I’m already on part 10 for this series and to be honest it’s fun to write. And in all seriousness, the tumblr mobile app needs to allow you to put a read more link. But anyways love you all and let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! Mwah! 🖤🖤🖤

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, some violence, and blood

“Im sorry, did you just say Madripoor?” You blinked at Zemo, dreading the destination ahead of you.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it’s Skull Island.” Sam questioned, looking between you and Zemo.

“Imagine Mos Eisley from Tatooine but without the aliens and blasters.” You tried to make an analogy. “In other words, a shithole. And to be honest, I’d rather be in Mos Eisley.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” Bucky explained to Sam.

“It’s kept its lawless ways.” Zemo added before turning to James. “But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

You had a feeling Zemo would suggest all of you going in with different identities, and being the only woman in the group, you already had a wild guess you weren’t going to be ecstatic about yours. You looked to Bucky with a frown on your lips. You knew what Zemo had meant towards him, and you didn’t know how it would affect him to transition back into the person he tried so hard to deviate from. Bucky saw the sympathetic smile you gave him, and he returned it with a look that reassured you that he would be fine.

“Y/n.” Zemo now spoke to you, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “I’m sure you are aware of the conditions.”

“Zemo if you...” Bucky trailed off as he glared at him, silently warning him to watch what he says next.

Sam and Bucky kept their eyes on Zemo, waiting to hear what his suggested persona for you was and ready to beat his ass if he dared to suggest something that would be demeaning to you.

“No way in the pits of Tartarus. I am not going in as an escort.” You voiced with a clenched jaw. “And if it’s eye candy you need, you have Sam.”

Sam gave you a surprised look from your comment, flattered to have you recommend him to be the designated eye candy before going back to the topic at hand. “Hell no Zemo. You’re not having y/n pretend to be an escort.”

“I’m afraid Sam is already going as someone.” Zemo sat back with his hands folded in his lap. “And don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on having you go as an escort, it isn’t befitting of a baron like me. Plus, I figured it would be uncomfortable for you, so I was going to suggest you act as my fiancé, if you are willing of course.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering on the subject. You were a bit relieved in all honesty. But to pretend to be Zemo’s fiancé and be in close and almost physical proximities with him?

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to y/n.” Sam uttered to you.

“I’ll do it.” You confirmed.

“Are you sure?” Zemo asked you again, making sure you were comfortable with acting the part.

“I thought Zemo might step out of line with this one, but we don’t want you to do something that will make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure. I’ve had to do things I wasn’t comfortable with plenty of times in the past.”

Once you had all landed, Zemo decided to stop by a place so that you all may get dressed. You had already packed a dress and a pair of heels with you just in case for situations like these, since this wasn’t the first time you had to dress up for a mission. The dress you wore was a black, burned velvet silk slip-like dress with the velvet print being dark red roses. The dress wasn’t too tight to be constricting of movement and fit perfectly around around your curves. If the situation should arise that you needed to defend yourself, you needed the freedom to be able to move. Going down, the fabric flared slightly at your hips, brushing barely against the floor with your heels on. The skirt was slightly sheer from the bottom of your thighs and down with the floral velvet print, and had a slit going up your right thigh, perfect for kicking and concealing your dagger. The top torso portion of the front of your dress was a spaghetti strap cowl neckline that stopped just above the curve of your breasts, allowing for just a bit of cleavage. Your back was left bare, stopping at your mid back with thin straps that came across in a pattern. Your dress almost had a Grecian/witchy look from the way it draped over your chest and hips. It wasn’t too formal or too scandalous, it was elegant and classy, and showed just the right amount of skin where it wouldn’t be too revealing.

Even though you completely loathed and detested heels of any kinds, your heels were fairly simple, made of black velvet with straps that came across your ankles and toes. You dreaded heaving to wear them but at the same time you’d stick out like a sore thumb if you wore your docs with these. Perhaps you should’ve brought your nicer sandals, but it was too late now. You kept on your mother’s necklace and wore a set of amethyst drop earrings, throwing on a silver cuff bracelet on each wrist. Your hair was let loose to conceal your short sword that you hid on your back underneath your dress, the hilt resting right between your shoulder blades. You prayed that having your hair down would cover the scars and the sword you had on your back. But you were mostly focused about the scars, you failed to mention them to the guys about it since it was something that was hard for you to share. The only makeup you had on was some eyeshadow and mascara to darken your eyes, very little blush, and a lip tint.

The last thing to do was to put on some perfume, so you spritzed on your favorite oil based one that you had from Olympus on your pulse points. The scent was filled with incense-like scents like dragon’s blood, sage, crushed red roses, sandalwood, ghostly white musk, absinthe, almonds, and heady gardenia. It wasn’t as harsh as the common alcohol based ones, this one was more earthy and ancient, and every time you wore it, the scent lingered and heads turned. You gave yourself a once over when you were done, taking in a deep breath before heading out to join the others.

You became nervous as you saw them gathered together, talking amongst themselves as they haven’t noticed you yet. You rarely ever wore dresses these days, especially of the kind you were wearing now which left you feeling bare and exposed even though the dress wasn’t at all much revealing. So as you approached them, you couldn’t help picking at your fingers in anxiety.

The men turned at the sound of your heels clicking against the ground, and when they laid their eyes on you, they couldn’t help but gawk with their mouths parted open, as if they had seen the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. You chewed on the inside of your cheeks as you saw how they stared at you.

“Wow.” Sam was the first to say something. “You look like a million bucks.”

“What? Never seen a woman in a dress before?”

“No, I’ve just never seen you in a dress before.” Sam answered. “You’re always dressed like some hippie/librarian, with your bands shirts, sweaters, plaid pants and jackets.”

“Haha vary funny.”

“Also since when did you have muscles?” Sam noticed as he poked your bare arm. “And since when did you have a tattoo?” He observed the mark you had on your upper right arm, right below your shoulder. It was the mark that was given to you to signify your Olympian status and what you represented. It was about the color that henna left behind after you wiped the paste off your skin, the color of ginger and bronze. The center of your mark was a lightning bolt, which represented a child of Zeus. Below that was your symbol, the torch and the triple moons.

“Since when did you start asking so many questions? But yeah, I’ve always had muscles Sam, I was trained in combat since I was, you could say 9 years old in human years. Also, technically everyone has them, it’s what allows us to move and lift things. And that.” You pointed to your tattoo. “Is my goddess mark, not a tattoo. Every Olympian god has one and they each have their personal symbol that represents them.”

“Wait, so you’ve been trained since you were a kid?” Bucky looked at you to clarify what he heard as they all started to head out.

“Technically, everyone on Olympus starts training that young. Then, when they become of age, a tournament is held to display their skills, following a ceremony after, to celebrate their victory.” You explained as you walked beside them.

The four of you were currently walking on the bridge that led to Madripoor. You could see the city’s skyline out in the distance, the cyberpunk like buildings lighting up the night sky.

“Do you need my coat?” You heard Zemo say beside you, making you look at him.

“Sorry?”

“Do you need my coat?” He repeated himself, referring to how your arms were bare against the cool night. “I wouldn’t want you to get cold.”

You stared at him, stunned from the kind gesture as you tried to form words to say. “Oh uh.....I appreciate the gesture, but I’m fine actually. I’m not that cold.” Though you didn’t want to admit it, you actually would’ve liked to try on his coat, because in all honesty it was a damn nice coat.

“We have to fix this.” You heard Sam say with irritation visible in his voice. “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing.” Zemo mentioned as he pulled out his phone to show Sam. “The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname. Hell, he does look like me, though.” Sam observed the photo.

“You smell this?”

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam sniffed the air as you did the same.

“Smells rancid.” You scrunched your nose at the smell.

“Madripoor. No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error.” Zemo instructed as a black car pulled up in front of you. “High Town’s that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town’s the other way.”

“Let me guess. We don’t have any friends in High Town.” Sam remarked as he opened the door for the back seat.

“Y/n. A moment please, if you will.” Zemo uttered to you.

You stopped in your tracks, seeing Bucky and Sam stand on either side of the car doors, looking between the two of you and especially Zemo, with caution. You nodded your head at them, signaling you were fine and that they can get seated. And though they sat themselves inside the car, that didn’t stop them from keeping their eyes glued to Zemo to make sure he didn’t pull anything stupid.

“What’s the issue?” You turned to Zemo, giving him your attention.

“Since you will be portraying my fiancé, there’s a certain key element you will be needing to complete the image.” You watched as he pulled out a ring from his coat pocket, displaying it in front of you. “If I may?”

You stared at Zemo blankly before nodding your head and holding out your left hand for him. You knew this was only for a show, but you couldn’t help but stiffen as he delicately held your hand with his gloved one before slipping the ring onto your ring finger.

“There.” Hi smiled softly at you, his hand still holding yours. “Now you look the part.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, his thumb brushing against your knuckles, leaving behind a trail of warmth as he gazed down at you. Zemo swore he could have gotten lost in the violet swirls and gold flecks of your eyes forever, which now sparkled against Madripoor’s lit up skyline, the neon city and the places he’s visited not even coming close to the beauty he held before him.

You tried not to blush under his gaze as you gave him a polite smile before slipping your hand out of his. “I should probably change my eyes huh.” You remembered, changing your eyes to a normal color known to earth. “Should I hide the scar?” You asked him, referring to the one on your face.

“I think you should leave it. It suits you, and besides, you never know who might recognize you without it.”

Nodding your head at him, you headed to the car and settling in beside Bucky as Zemo followed, getting in the passenger seat in front of you. In the car ride there, you glanced down at the ring Zemo slipped on your finger, it was definitely a beautiful elegant ring, with a rose gold band and a pear cut garnet in the center that had diamonds that accented the bottom. Once you arrived in the city, you walked through the neon lit streets beside Zemo while Sam and Bucky followed behind. You loosened up your body as you went, swaying your hips slightly as you tried your best not to walk like a bodyguard and look threatening as everyone’s eyes followed the four of you strolling through the streets.

“Here we are.” Zemo announced, stopping in front of a bar before speaking to Bucky in Russian. “Ready to comply… Winter Soldier?”

As you went in, Zemo leaned in to whisper in your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck and startling you as he spoke in a hushed tone. “I want to apologize in advance, forgive me.”

You looked at him with furrowed brows to question what he meant until you felt his gloved hand slide across your back before resting on your waist, pulling you closer to his side. You noticed how his hand fumbled after brushing across your sword as he gave you a questioning look. What was that on your back? Did you really conceal a full on sword on your back underneath your dress? On your way to the bar table you saw people stare as you went through, some of them gawking in surprise at Bucky, or the winter soldier as he was now portraying, while the slimy men in the area roamed their eyes over your body hungrily. Zemo noticed your uneasiness from the way your muscles tensed, though your face didn’t show a sign of it, and glared at the men who dared to lay their eyes on you, only pulling you closer to him to prove that you were with him while Bucky and Sam noticed this as well and positioned themselves where you were blocked from the view of your peers, allowing you to breathe a little better as you approached the bar.

“Hello, gentlemen.” The bartender greeted you all. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed.” Zemo answered for him. “We have business to do with Selby.”

“The usual?”

Sam nodded his head.

“And for the lady?”

“Um Something fruity.” You answered with a flirtatious smile, silently hoping they had something like that on the menu and that you hadn’t blown their cover by ordering the wrong drink.

The bartender handed you what looked to be a pineapple martini and you internally thanked the gods for your sheer bit of luck, taking the drink and thanking the bartender with another smile. You watched as he went to work on Sam’s drink, pulling out of a jar what definitely was a snake. You gulped, your stomach feeling nauseous as you saw the bartender cut open the dead snake, taking out its guts and throwing it in the shot glass. You were mortified to say the least, snakes were one of your symbols and you had owned plenty of the gentle little creatures. You shot Sam a sympathetic look once you saw his expression.

“Cheers.” Zemo held up his glass while Sam stared at his before gathering the courage to drink it all in one go. If Sam wasn’t going to throw up, you were going to do it for him.

While your eyes were trained on Sam’s expression, you felt someone breathe over your neck before feeling a clammy hand graze across your ass.

“Hey baby-“

Your eyes widened before you grabbed the wrist of the man behind you in one quick motion, twisting his arm to an unnatural position as you yanked it away from your body, causing the sleazy looking individual let out a yelp of pain. You would’ve crushed his wrist like crumpled paper if Zemo hadn’t put a cautionary hand on your arm as he whispered to you. “Careful now.”

You let go of the man’s wrist before shoving him aside like a pile of garbage. If their identity wasn’t at risk of being revealed, Zemo, Sam, and Bucky would have gone over there and beat the guy up after you were done with him.

“I got word from high. You ain’t welcome here.” You watched from behind Zemo as a bearded man approached him.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured towards Bucky.

“New haircut?”

“Or bring Selby for a chat.”

The man glanced between Zemo and Bucky before leaving.

“A power broker? Really?” Sam turned to Zemo.

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” You asked.

“Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

Another man was approaching in your direction, most likely to kick you all out or worse, and after following your gaze, Zemo turned to Bucky, speaking to him in Russian just as the man laid a hand on his shoulder. “Winter Soldier. Attack.”

You stood back, watching as Bucky grabbed the dude’s arm and twisted it back. You refrained yourself from intervening as Bucky took down the men that fought against him.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo commented to you and Sam.

Bucky slammed one of the men down on the counter. And as you heard the clicking of guns being loaded, your defensive mode nearly kicked in as you almost reached for your sword before Zemo stopped you.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispered to you both before turning to Bucky and speaking in Russian again. “Well done soldier.”

You let your arm drop back down to your side, not a single change in your expression as you eyed everyone around you.

“Selby will see you now.” The bartender spoke up after getting off the phone.

Zemo gave him a thanks, nodding you over and holding out his hand for you to take as you went to his side again, Bucky and Sam following after you. You went through a back door, going down a dark corridor with Zemo’s hand on your back as he guided you through.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” You heard a woman’s voice speak, turning your head to see an older woman in a suit with short white hair lounging back on the coach with her security around her.

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo sat down on the couch before waving you over when he saw you standing near Sam. “Come sit schatzi.”

You straightened up, plastering a smile on your face as you went over to him. Selby’s eyes followed you curiously as you placed your hand in his, your eyes rapidly moving in nervousness for what area would be the most appropriate area to sit. Were you......were you supposed to sit on his lap? Is that how couples work? No, that would be inappropriate. Before things got awkward, you quickly plopped down on the empty spot next to him, crossing over your leg in a way so that it draped over his, leaving your thigh completely exposed from the slit in your dress, save for the dagger that still remained hidden. Sam and Bucky widened their eyes at what you just did, while Zemo stiffened at this sudden movement from you as you also draped one arm around his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him. Were you even doing this right?

“A lot has changed since you were here last.” Selby observed the two of you before her eyes landed on your ring. “Who’s this pretty little thing?”

“This.” Zemo looked at you with a loving look, throwing an arm around your waist to draw circles on your bare back, while his other hand rested on your thigh, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps on your skin as you felt shivers go down your spine. “Is my fiancé. Gorgeous isn’t she?”

How long has it been since you were this close and personal to someone? The last you could remember, women still wore corsets and people still rode carriages. You felt your body heat up from being this close to him, and from the way he stroked your back. How was a mortal man able to leave you feeling like this? If he was able to send shivers down your spine with the mere touch on your back with his gloved hand, you wondered how it would feel to have his bare hands on you, just skin to skin. And if you were being honest, you never really were a fan of cologne but his smelled of a deeper earthy tones with hints of musk, and you were surprised and almost ashamed to say you liked how he smelled. You returned the same loving look to Zemo, trying to make it as believable as possible as you ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head before placing a kiss on his jaw close to his ear. Sam and Bucky couldn’t believe their eyes at the scene before them, the same you who preferred to be a hermit and didn’t go on dates because it involved human interaction, was cuddling up to none other than Helmut Zemo himself. Zemo’s breath faltered a bit from from your touch as he swallowed the lump in his throat, struggling not to break character. Being this close to you, he was able to get a whiff of your perfume and my goodness, Zemo felt as if he could drown in your scent, you smelled like the heavens, not overbearingly sweet, but dark and luxurious and even seductive. Is this what vampires and sirens smelled like when they lured people to their deaths? You raised a brow at Zemo, your heightened senses were picking up on his breathing patterns and heartbeat. Was he getting nervous?

“Extremely.” Selby commented, smirking at the two of you before roaming her eyes over your body. You could feel her taking you in but you kept your eyes trained on the side of Zemo’s face. “Where did you pick this one up? She looks like a fighter.”

“As they say, why not get a woman who can do both. She was part of the Sokovian armed forces, I met her through there.”

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” Selby added after finally taking her eyes off you.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we? I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” Selby turned to Sam with a flirtatious grin, using her hand in a claw like manner as she let out a purr. “What’s the offer?”

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” Zemo got up off the couch, going over to Bucky and holding his chin between his fingers. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or… condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but… things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?”

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me. But.....” She turned you with a sly smile which made your insides turn. “Throw her in with the package and you have yourself a deal.”

Zemo, Sam, and Bucky turned to look at you with dread upon hearing her words. This wasn’t at all part of the plan.

“No, no no. That wasn’t the deal.” Zemo stepped over to where you sat, blocking you from her. “She’s not for sale.”

“Why not?” Selby raised her brow at Zemo. “I’m pretty sure a man like you could pick up someone else to be your plaything or fiancé or whatever. I like this one in particular.” She turned to you again.

“That’s not-“ Zemo started before he was cut off by Sam’s cellphone vibrating.

You breath was caught in your throat and it felt as if the room had dropped in temperature. You could feel the tension floating around the air as everyone’s eyes were trained on Sam now, making you sit up straight and uncross your legs so that they were planted firmly on the ground. Your hand rested on your thigh just above where the hilt of your dagger was as your eyes darted around the room, watching each and every person like a hawk about to swoop down on its prey. You had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

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