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serendipityrogers · 3 years

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sunday’s with a solider || b. barnes

part one

summary: after a good date with bucky, (y/n) figures out who she’s really getting involved with.

pairing: bucky barnes x female!librarian!reader

warnings: kissing (??), swearing

an: im honestly speechless, the first part of this series has 150+ notes! i’m so happy you guys liked it! i’m debating on make this a three or a four-part series, please let me know what you think, but there will definitely be at least another part. one of the next, or the next, will include some spice, if you know what i mean. and who do y’all want me to write about next? im thinking mr. steve rogers.

tags: @biixlv

“Please tell me you’re a booth person and not a table person.” You chuckled, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Uh, yeah.” He laughed and rolled his eyes at you. He began walking towards one of the booths. You followed happily behind him, scooting into the opposite side of the booth. He pulled off his hat and both his gloves, setting them on the seat next to him. You propped your head on the palm of your hands, stopping yourself from looking at his metal hand, you weren’t even sure if it was metal.

The diner was one that had been in this town for, at least, forty years, and it definitely showed its age. It was trying to be a ‘retro diner’ in the eighties, so that aged it another thirty years. You grew up coming here with your family, the food was good, and you thought the inside was cute. The building was longer than it was wide, and the floor reminded you of a checkerboard. There was a long bar on the left, space for waiters to maneuver, and a long panel of metal enclosing the kitchen portion. Bright red bar stools were implemented into the floor, screwed into the floor, every two feet or so. On the right, were five or six booths, the same shade of red as the bar stools, big enough for about four people max.

“Hey, sugar!” A familiar voice chirped to your left. Your eyes met a familiar pair of green ones, and a smile immediately filled your face. “Hey, Mabel!” You cooed, half-standing under the table and wrapping your arms around her small, fragile frame. She smelled like coffee and smoke, as she always did. The two of you pulled away, and her eyes instantly went to Bucky. “Who's your friend?” She asked, raising her eyebrows at you. “Mabel, this is my friend James. James, this is Mabel.” You explained, quickly introducing the two. He smiled at her and stuck out his ‘normal’ hand to give her a handshake, which she was very fond of.

“Well, it is great to meet you, James! What can I get you to drink?” She had abandoned her notepad well before you were born, her ability to just remember someone’s order still amazed you. “Coffee please, no sugar or creamer please.” She smiled at him, and turned back towards me, “Regular for you, dear?” She asked, and you smiled, scrunching up your eyes and nose. She practically pranced away with a huge smile on her face. Bucky chuckled, pulling you from your thoughts, turning your head back towards him. His eyes were scanning over the faded laminated menu.

“How do you know Mabel?” He asked, looking up and unzipping his jacket, pulling it off his abdomen and onto the seat beside him, with his gloves and hat. “I grew up coming here with my family, she’s known me since I was in my mother’s stomach.” You explained, pointing to a picture above the bar. It was pretty faded after sitting in direct sunlight for over two decades, but it was a picture of Mabel, your mom, your dad, and you, you all had on party hats. “I had my first ten birthdays at this diner.” Bucky squinted his eyes and smiled once he made out the picture of baby you.

“That’s awesome.” He said looking back at you. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Mabel cut him off. “Here is that coffee, Mr. James.” She slid the coffee in front of him, “And a regular for you, (Y/M/N).” She wiped her hands on her apron, “What can I get you two to eat?” Bucky looked at me, wanting me to order first. “We’ll both take the ‘67.” You smiled. She copied, “You got it, dearie.” And she walked away. Bucky cleared his throat, “Just trust me, Bucky,” You chuckled, placing your hands on top of his, “You’re gonna love it.” He paused for a moment, “I’ll hold you to that.” He winked at you. Did he just wink at you? Was he flirting? You immediately shot back at a wink and a flirty response, “Deal.”

The two of you ate and chatted for about an hour and a half. “Okay, you were right, that was the best food I’ve ever had.” He said, stacking your plates and utensils together, making it easier for Mabel when she took them off the table. “Can I get you two anything else?” She asked, picking up the two plates with ease. Bucky looked at you and you nodded a ‘no,’ and he looked back at Mabel, “No thank you, ma’am, but I will take the check.” He smiled.

“No, Mabel, split the check pl-” But Mabel cut you off, “Sorry, dear, my hearing aid died, I can’t quite hear you. I’ll bring that check right to you, Mr. James.” Quickly walking away. “Bucky, no, I will pay for mine.” You insisted, going to reach for your purse. You looked around you in your seat in a panic, and then you remembered, it was in the saddlebag attached to his bike. He laughed at you as you came to that realization. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” You sighed, taking a sip of your drink. He simply shrugged and smiled, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

Once Mabel returned with the bill and Bucky’s card, the two of you stood, and he let you walk out first. It was a lot colder now, goosebumps layered your exposed arms, like a reflex you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Here, you take this.” He insisted, placing his heavy leather jacket on your shoulders. “No, I can't, you're gonna get cold too.” You began to shrug it off, but he placed his hands on your shoulders, stopping you. “I’ll be fine.” He smirked at you, his hands lingering for a little longer than normal.

“Ready?” He asked as he straddled his bike, once more. You stuck your arms through the long sleeves, which went way past your fingertips. You took your seat behind him, and he handed you the helmet, and you slid it over your head. Similar to earlier, you snaked your arms around him, clasping your hands together, and resting around his mid-abdomen. His hands, once again, landed on your thighs, pulling you even closer to him, making a different type of goosebumps cover your arms.

“Hang on tight, doll.” He said as the bike came to life. You were so glad you were wearing a helmet, so he couldn’t see the brush creep onto your cheeks. As you two rode, he used his prosthetic hand to steer the bike and kept his flesh hand on your knee the entire time. The sky had ditched the orange, pink, and red hues and was now littered in stars and moonlight. You didn’t want this to end, you felt like you could stay there for hours, but the library came into view a lot sooner than you wanted it to.

The next day came and you got excited, as always, to see Bucky. Today was a little different though, after your date last night. Wait, was that even a date? It had to be, right? I mean he paid and flirted with you.

“Bucky, why do you come in here every day?” You asked, peering at him over the book in your hands. He didn’t move for a second, you assumed he was finishing the sentence he was reading. “Well, all the libraries in New York City are crowded and noisy.” He explained, “So when I found this place while scoping out new libraries, even though it is quite a distance, I knew this place was it for me.” He smiled at you. “At least that was the reason initially.” He muttered, picking his book back up.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You set your book down this time, squinting your eyes at him, and propping your head up on your hands. “Well obviously, I now come back because the shitty coffee you offer is to die for.” He said sarcastically. You gasped and threw one of your pens at him, bouncing off his chest and onto the floor. He broke out into a fit of laughter, and you soon followed.

“No, but now I come back to hang out with you.” He admitted to you, avoiding your stare. “Oh that so sweet…” You started, “...Dork.” Throwing another pen at him, this time hitting the bill of his hat. Bucky had come in every day for a little over a month now and missed not a single Sunday. “Hey (Y/F/N)?” Bucky asked, looking back up from his book. Your eyes didn’t leave the pages of your book, but you answered, “Yes, Buck?” You asked back, flipping the page.

“I won’t be here tomorrow, and for a couple days after that.” When the words left his lips, a wave of sadness washed over you. Your lips twisted into a pout, looking towards him. “Why?” You asked, dragging out the word. “I have some obligations.” You rolled your eyes at him, “Okay, Mr. Mysterious.” You scoffed, feeling a bit upset. How long had he known? Why was he just now telling you? “I’m gonna be so bored without you.” You whined, leaning back in your chair with a huff.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

It was closing time now, and as usual, Bucky walked you to your car. “You better bring me a souvenir from wherever you’re going.” You joked, tossing your purse into the passenger seat, and turning back towards Bucky. “Would you prefer a T-shirt? Maybe some socks? How about a shot glass?” He joked back, leaning against the side of your car. “Surprise me.” You laughed, pushing his chest.

As you went to pull away from his chest, his flesh hand wrapped around your wrist, softly. He placed it back on his chest, and his metal hand went to your hip, pulling you closer to him. The only distance between both of your chest was being occupied by your hand. You swore up and down that he could hear your heartbeat, but you were soon reassured because you could feel his heartbeat racing just as much as yours was. Bucky glanced down at your lips, and you did the same.

You closed the space between your lips, and without thinking your eyes fluttered closed, taking in everything happening over your entire body. His lips were soft, tasting like coffee and mint. The growing stubble on his chin rubbed against the softness of your cheeks. His flesh hand was warm around your wrist, gripping it softly, he never wanted to hurt you. But the gestures with his metal hand were very different. It was leaving a cool tingling sensation against the small patch of exposed skin, and his grip was tighter, pushing you impossibly closer to him. You took your free hand, and placed it on his face, thumb running over his cheek, and your other four fingers resting on his neck.

After what feels like minutes, but was probably only about thirty seconds, you pulled away from him. Reluctantly, of course. The two of you just stood there, not moving, relishing at the moment for as long as you could. “You know I meant to surprise me souvenir-wise, right?” You chuckled, messing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “Oh okay, we can just never do that again.” He sighed, messing with you.

“No, no, we can definitely do that again.”

It was the first Sunday without Bucky in a while, he had been gone for almost a week now, you assumed working on his ‘obligations.’ You had been keeping yourself busy with a new book series, one that Bucky actually recommended to you. But today would be full of dusting, reorganizing, putting away some newer books, and vacuuming. It was probably around 3:30 in the afternoon, and you were dusting the large bay windows by the front of the store.

You could feel the music moving through your body, making it impossible for you not to dance, at least just a little wiggle. You swayed your hips, the music taking over, singing into the duster like a microphone. Your free hand ran up the side of your body, from your thigh all the way up to your face. You threw your arm up over your head, and prancing around the tables, shifting the duster from a microphone to an electric guitar. When the song was finally over, and you were very much out of breath, you made your way back to the window. And when you did so, your heart dropped to your toes. There was a man standing on the opposite side of the window, watching you.

It only took a few seconds for your fear to turn into relief. It was Bucky. You dashed to the left towards the door, unlocking the door, and running out to greet him. Practically leaping towards him, you wrapped both arms around his neck, and his arms snaked around your waist. After a few moments of swaying and just taking in his presence, you pulled away. He was smiling widely, “I didn’t mean to end your concert so soon, I was enjoying it.” Adding a chuckle. Your face blushed, and you put your hand over your eyes, peeking at him through your middle and ring finger, “Did you see the whole thing?” You asked, dreading his answer. “The whole thing.”

The two of you walked back inside, the music still playing loudly. There was a slow song playing, and you grabbed your phone to turn it down, but Bucky stopped you. “Wanna dance?” He asked, putting his hand out for you to grab. You smiled, happily taking it. He pulled your chest against his. Your arms rest on his shoulders, your fingers loosely interlocked. Both hands on your hips, both of you just rocking side to side. The music wasn’t even registering in your brain, you were just focusing on this moment with him.

“I remember when this song came out.” He said softly. You cocked your eyebrow at him, “Didn’t this song come out in the fifties?” You asked confused, what did he mean by that? “So you really don’t know who I am, huh?” The question caught you off-guard, it sounded very egotistical. “No..?” You asked more like a question. And that’s when he explained everything, making a very long story very short. He explained the arm, the serum, and the ‘obligations.’

“You’re a fucking Avenger?” You asked, head in your hands, elbows on your knee. “Well, technically I’ve never been asked to be one, but kind of.” His hand on your back, rubbing it in small circles. “So you’re the James Buchanan Barnes from the Captain America museum?” He nodded. Everything kind of flooded back to your memory, you knew you heard the nickname “Bucky” before, and you knew he looked somewhat familiar, but you assumed he just looked kinda similar to an actor or something.

It was silent for a good five minutes, but Bucky broke it. “Hey, guess what?” He asked, trying to hide the upturn of his lips. What now? Was he gonna break some more news to you? Was he also part alien? “Hmm?” That was all you said, running your fingers through your hair. He moved his hand to reach into his backpack and pulled out a book, sliding it towards you.

“Russian Urban Legends.” You read the title, quickly flipping through the book with your thumb. “Flip to page 48, and tell me what it says.” He said, propping his head upon his hands. You did as he said and landed on page forty-eight. “The Winter Soldier.” You read the words written in a bright red font, the page decorated in grainy photos and ridiculously cheesy government lettering and drawings. Bucky looked at you, prompting you to continue.

“A ghost story or a real threat?”

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan one shot #bucky barnes x librarian!reader #mcu #mcu one shot #james barnes #bucky barnes x reader

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jeonjeonggukenergy · 4 years

Text

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, smut - college!au

wordcount ~ 8.5k

warnings ~ 18+ only! smut, explicit discussion of kinks/sexual preferences (yay healthy communication), dom/sub undertones during both discussion and sex (dom Jungkook, sub reader), mentions of daddy kink and degradation but both are a no, marking, biting, hair pulling, spanking, they both have a srs pain kink lmao, brief oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, creampie

a/n ~ SO excited to finally have this chapter out for yall! it’s a huge one and i’ve been working on it for quite a while, this includes the first full smut scene for this fic and i would love to know how yall like it or any other feedback. i really enjoyed writing the character development in this chapter too! they’re so cute and whipped for each other already hhhhhh. thank you so much for loving this story so far, i’m really looking forward to writing the rest. hope you enjoy! ❣️

previous: chapter 1 | chapter 2 ~ next: chapter 4 (coming soon!)

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 3 ~ particular, perfect

You concluded your walk home by ditching your shoes at the door, swinging your bag off your shoulders to the floor, and plopping down onto the couch immediately. Pulling all three nearby blankets over yourself, you realized you still weren't quite comfortable. You looked around for a second, puzzled, until an absentminded clutch of your boobs reminded you why. Triumphantly, you reached into a sleeve to untangle your bra and chucked it across the room with a deep stretch of relief. Okay, time to overthink again.

Jungkook? What the fuck?

Wait. A bag of chips on the kitchen counter caught your eye before you could descend any further into panic. The perfect emotional crutch. You clutched it to your chest like a safeguard against your own internal monologue, anxiously shoving handful after handful into your mouth. After about thirty minutes spent motionless on the couch with one hand shoved in the chip bag and the other distractedly scrolling through Twitter, your eyes suddenly widened and your hand froze, dropping your next bite of chips back into the bag. Fuck. You had just eaten nearly an entire family-size bag of chips before what could end up being your first fuck in over a year. Well, maybe this was part of why you hadn't gotten fucked in over a year. No, don't go there. You shoved down your own insecurity, knowing you'd just been too busy for a relationship and honestly, probably still were. But that wasn't going to stop you today.

You shook the chip dust off of your hands and got up to head to the shower, turning up your trashiest throwback playlist of getting-ready bops and resolving to at least shave your legs. Going in with no expectations was probably the best strategy here, but it never hurt to be prepared.

Having cleaned his apartment in record time, Jungkook was now at the gym. After triple-checking that his roommate Jin would be in rehearsal until 10pm at the earliest, he quickly scanned all the common spaces and his bedroom and realized he didn't actually have that much work to do besides politely closing the door to Jin's still-decent-but-somewhat-messier room. To be honest, Jungkook had mainly bought himself the time after class so he could shave just in case. But then he figured if he had to shower, he might as well hit the gym first. So here he was, burning off an unprecedented amount of nervous energy. Settling comfortably into the leg curl machine, he turned his music up and started on a low weight to put in reps until his thighs burned and his head felt pleasantly empty.

After completing his normal leg day rotation and dutifully stretching, Jungkook prepared to head home. He walked out of the gym feeling more energized and centered, barely even flinching when he switched his AirPods off to say bye to the nice girl at the front desk and the action accidentally blasted "Whistle" by Flo Rida from his phone speaker for the whole lobby to hear. As he walked back into his apartment, the kitchen clock let him know it was only 4:30. He had plenty of time. Jungkook hopped straight into the shower, shampooing his hair, shaving everywhere he normally did, and savoring several extra moments to relax his muscles under the hot stream of water. Finally, he toweled off to wrap up in the black t-shirt and cozy matching sweatpants he'd carefully stacked on the counter. Offhandedly singing to himself in the steamy mirror, he checked the time on his phone, deciding he might as well go ahead and text you before he got nervous again and did something stupid. Like chickening out completely.

hey its jk! im ready when u are :) my apt is 344 glencoe rd #1521 (yes its on the 15th floor sry D: )

His charming old-school smileys lit up your phone while you still had a leg perched on the bathtub's edge.

"Fuck!" you reacted. The hiss resounded, thanks to the too-good acoustics of your cramped bathroom. Your razor clattering to the floor, you paused your max-volume 2000s music to check the message, and then the time. Only 5! That wasn't dinnertime yet. Plugging his address into Google Maps, though, you realized it was a 15- to 20-minute drive from yours on the opposite end of campus. Even if you got ready at light-speed, you would get there closer to 5:30. Which was a bit more reasonable. He was being reasonable! You should be ready by now!

You leaned over to pick up your razor and cursed again as the water stream grazed the blouse you'd left on out of laziness. You'd showered this morning, so there was no need to repeat that with your shave, but now you'd have to change outfits completely. Feeling like an idiot, naked from the waist down but now all the way wet, you peeled the shirt over your head slowly to preserve your good hair day and glanced down at the dilemma you'd been facing. The patch of hair between your legs stared back at you like the final boss of stupid societal beauty standards. You'd only shaved down there once, as an anniversary present for your first boyfriend the summer before college, and it had been a fun, smooth novelty for about two hours and then itchy, red, gross-looking, and miserable for about three weeks. Also, it had kind of made you feel like a little girl, which creeped you out when you thought about why guys would prefer it. You'd been debating whether to try it again for the past fifteen minutes, because if there was ever a right time, this was probably it. But now you didn't have time, if you were going to be respectful and not keep Jungkook waiting. Well, this was the real you. He could take it or leave it.

Slathering a quick coat of lotion over your freshly shaved legs, you prepared to get dressed in a soft pastel sweatshirt and a flattering pair of workout shorts. Wait, should you wear lingerie? Was that too try-hard? You didn't really even need to wear underwear with these lined shorts, which could be a cool-girl move, you supposed. You settled on a cute white sports bra to go with the shorts, not wanting to deal with a real bra and hoping it still appealed to Jungkook's casual, athletic style. You checked yourself in the mirror briefly before grabbing your bag, confirming you looked chill enough but still felt like your best color-coordinated self. Heading out, you shoved a tin of chrysanthemum green tea in your water bottle pocket. Why not?

You whizzed over to Jungkook's apartment, yelling along to "Sex With Me" by Rihanna from your throwback playlist to hype you up in the car. When you knocked on his door after a nerve-wrackingly long elevator ride, Jungkook welcomed you with a "C'mon in!" amidst a mouthful of shrimp chips.

"It's not really dinnertime yet," (yeah, no kidding, you thought) "I went ahead and worked out but it's still kind of early, so I figured we could just have a snack and do the homework first."

"Sounds good," you affirmed. "I'm not really that hungry," (read: there's no way I can eat chips AGAIN right now, I'm going to bloat so badly) "but I brought tea so I can go ahead and make that if you want some too!"

"Oh cool, thanks!" Jungkook accepted. "Are you sure you're not hungry though?"

You almost gave into his sweet pout, but managed to convince him, and soon you both sat at the table with laptops open and twin cups of tea. You had a blast working together for the first time, acting out your "conversation" for the discussion board and pretending to respond spontaneously to each other's points like you hadn't already excitedly rambled back and forth through them in real life. You hit "send" five minutes apart, your idea to not seem too suspicious, and kept raving over Rear Window in between. As the sun lowered outside his living room window, you moved on to making the ramen.

After three offers to help Jungkook, all of which he denied, you simply made another steep of the tea, leaving a mug on the counter for him. Standing at the bar counter sipping yours, you enjoyed all the tiny, cute noises he made while chopping green onions and sprinkling extra garlic in the seasoning, like an anime character who came with his own sound effects. You could tell he made these recipe additions every time, because bulk quantities of the same simple ingredients lined the counters of his cozy kitchen. When he beat two eggs and dropped them into the pot, though, he couldn't seem to find a lid, and eventually settled on trapping the steam with a plate. You both waited on the egg for a silent moment, your foot bouncing under the bar while Jungkook restlessly acquired a slight wiggle. As he took a sip of his tea, a strand of hair fell over his eyes, and he yeeted it out of his face. Your inner language nerd cringed, but there really was no more apt word to describe the action.

You offhandedly said you liked his hair long, and he replied with a smile, "Maybe I'll have to keep it then."

"Do you like it too?" you wondered.

"Honestly no, it's kind of inconvenient."

"Oh, then why would you keep it?" you immediately asked back.

"Well..." he dragged out. "You like it? Maybe I should keep it if it looks better this way."

Your eyes crinkled appreciatively at his thoughtfulness, but then you backtracked. "Wait, no, it's okay! If you don't like it, don't feel like you have to keep it just because of something I said. You can do whatever you want."

"Hm, yeah." A demure smile tugged up the corner of his mouth as he lifted the plate from the ramen pot.

You watched him drag a chopstick through the floating, now-cooked egg to tear it into ribbons, then divide the noodles between two generously-sized bowls. He carefully wiped down the drips of broth from each bowl before sprinkling in his fresh toppings, then walked with you to the table.

Serving you with a pleased smile and a slight nod, he announced, "Dinner!"

"Wow," you mused playfully. "So gourmet."

"I'm really particular about my ramen," he admitted. "I have it down to a perfect routine at this point."

You took your first slurp of his particular, perfect ramen. "Well, it's really good. I'm impressed. And thanks for making me dinner, you didn't have to do all that."

"Oh, come on, it's instant ramen," he laughed. "Nothing special. And you brought the tea, so thanks. And thanks for coming over. And doing the homework with me. And...yeah." Rambling again. Why did he seem so...nervous? You were nervous. He couldn't be nervous. What reason did he have to be? But the twitch of his mouth under his wide eyes, his slightly reddened ears, his hand skittering over his neck—fuck—to ruffle his hair...every action turned another page of his open book. It felt infuriatingly unfair that genetics had assigned someone so sweet and shy and unsure of himself to that fucking body.

While you both ate and talked, you kept catching glimpses of any small flashes of skin you could find, as his long sleeves fell to expose his forearms and the wide neckline of his boxy black shirt gaped around his collarbones. What was wrong with you? Even if this did eventually turn into a dick appointment, the boy still had literally all of his clothes on. You tried to refocus on finishing your noodles, while your brain screamed at itself in shame that you could get this turned on by the sight of someone covered from neck to ankle.

Jungkook ate surprisingly slowly, probably because he kept pausing to excitedly explain his favorite things about the Cowboy Bebop episode you were about to watch together. You smiled into your tea through every out-of-context fun fact and "wait, sorry, that might have been a spoiler!"

Finally, he reached the bottom of his bowl and insisted on both taking your dishes to the sink and leaving them for him to clean later. "You sure you want to start on episode 2? Not 1?"

"Yeah, I remember well enough and your summary helped a lot too!"

"Okay, if you're positive!" he double-checked, grabbing the remote.

Gingerly lowering yourselves to the couch in sync, you avoided looking at each other as you both tried to calculate a comfortable distance between you. His hand looked ready to either hold yours or lower to your thigh, but he retracted at the last second, smoothing it over his own leg anxiously and still clearly itching to make a move. You shuffled closer to him until your thighs barely touched, and he shifted to slink an arm around you, letting your head rest on his well-muscled shoulder. After pressing “play”, he began wiggling slightly again, subconsciously grooving to the old-newspaper-style intro. Spike Spiegel appeared on the screen, his broad shoulders squared into a slouch as he listlessly watched TV. Jungkook kicked one leg over another and stretched his arms out symmetrically to echo the pose. Raising an eyebrow, he waited until you acknowledged him with a faux grimace and a hand to your ear, imitating the old man in a lab who’d just called up Spike for a new mission. You both burst into laughter and settled back into your former arrangement, Jungkook holding you imperceptibly tighter. Though you tried to stay staring straight ahead, wanting to genuinely appreciate the anime, you kept catching his doe eyes in the corner of your sight as you both giggled and gasped your way through the episode.

After avoiding eye contact too many times, you finally tilted your head for a cute sideways view of his face. He leaned toward you too, shyly closing the gap to touch his warm lips to your nose, then lower. You responded immediately, rolling your body with his so your chests met as he pulled you up into a full, deeper kiss. The longer you explored each other's mouths, the more Jungkook punctuated your movements with whimpers. He seemed hesitant to let his hands roam away from your face and neck, but his high, breathy moans made it clear that he was just as into this as you. Your hands had naturally found his taut waist, and at some point you started to bring them back up to his face too—but as your short nails grazed his chest, a particularly sensual, voice-cracking moan interrupted you. You drew back in slight surprise, blinking your eyes open to scan from his face to his body.

He followed your gaze, both slowly settling on the massive tent in his pants. You froze. Your breath grew heavier, confronted with evidence of his physical attraction to you, if nothing else. After regaining his composure, he laid a useless hand over his lap in a delicate attempt to distract you and brought his other hand up to tap your face lightly.

"Is this okay?"

His eyes glittered with equal parts hunger and concern.

"Yes!" you nodded, too quickly, too eagerly. "Yes, this is totally okay. Sorry if I'm being weird, I just...it's been a while." You cringed internally at your own words, but couldn't seem to avoid putting your foot further in your mouth. "I haven't really, like, hooked up like this before—like, I've had sex, but never really outside of a relationship. But don't worry, I get this is more your thing, and I'm totally down if you are. I just don't really know what I'm doing, and you clearly do."

Jungkook blinked at your admission, then his face twisted into something curious, inscrutable. Would he decide you weren't worth the potential for drama? His lips flattened out to a tight line, then pursed to speak, and you looked down at your lap, hoping he wasn't as embarrassed of you as you now were of yourself.

"Well, I've never had sex sober."

Your eyes flashed back up to his. A complex half-smirk offset the furrow in his brow as he exhaled in nervous relief. "So, I don't actually know what I'm doing here either."

You tried to delay your response as you processed the implications. "You mean..." You tilted your head for better eye contact, hoping to convey empathy but not pity while you silently contemplated how to proceed. "Never?"

"Yeah, I've always shown up to parties and the hookups just...happened. Nothing I didn't want, nothing bad like that, but always spontaneous. So I guess we're kind of meeting in the middle, because I've never really had to plan ahead for a situation like this and, uh, figure out what I want. Beyond, yknow, wanting to get laid in the moment, of course." Jungkook laughed off the end of his explanation, but the smile never quite hit his eyes.

"Well, okay, let's pause right there." You sighed. Something in his words didn't sit right with you. "What do you want? I want you to be sure about this, of course, but more than that, even—what do you like?"

"I..." he chuckled, sheepish, shaking his hair over his face again. "What, you want me to just tell you? Like, what I'm into?"

"Yeah," you shrugged, trying to project more confidence than you felt in hopes of encouraging him to keep opening up. "I want you to be able to communicate, I want you to be comfortable. And I want to know what you like, so I can make it as good for you as possible."

With your hands still laid flat on his chest, you felt his heart rate jump a tiny bit, and took the liberty of digging your nails in just slightly deeper. His breath caught him, and then he caught himself. "I don't know, I just want what you want."

Jungkook struggled to appear nonchalant as you rolled your eyes with an "Oh, come on," challenging his avoidance. Every instinct was telling him yes. He could hear his mind screaming at him to be intentional for once and let you take him, if not farther, then deeper than ever before. But he still hesitated, because being intentional in this case required him to be real. He had always been a fairly private person, but something about you made him feel so comfortable so fast that it counterintuitively made him more nervous. Of course Jungkook knew you weren't all innocent at this point, but the risk remained that you wouldn't really be down for everything he secretly wanted to explore. Even worse, though he didn't truly think you would, you could easily turn around and spin anything he revealed into yet another graphic rumor. Especially since you had no skin in the game yourself. He glanced down at your fingers, tensed into his chest, and narrowed his eyes.

"Why don't you tell me what you like first? And then I can tell you where we overlap," he grinned competitively. Your eyes widened as he tossed the challenge back your way. Not backing down, you flattened your hands and steeled yourself to settle the stakes.

"Fine—but only if you promise not to just go along with whatever I say. I'll let you know anything that's a hard no for me, but otherwise I want to hear at least one thing that's not on my list. I really do want what you want, that's how I am too, okay? So..." you paused to slide your fingertips over his collar and drag it down with a light scratch, now directly on his skin. You smiled with your eyes, enjoying the way he naturally responded with a hitch of his breath again. "Surely you can think of something specific."

He nodded quickly, before he could convince himself to back out. "Yeah. Promise."

"Okay," you confirmed, slightly nervous but determined to go through with this, for Jungkook's sake if anything. Seeing his body come alive with each new twist of the situation was building your curiosity, not to mention turning you on beyond belief. You could barely stand the warmth of his skin under your hands, so you drew them back to fold in your lap as you began. "So. Uh. To start. I've never really laid it all out like this either. I really like neck kisses? Like, a lot." Equally unused to this kind of directness, you wrung your hands together nervously, but sucked up the boldness to keep elaborating. "That's definitely, like, a big thing that turns me on...and then getting marked up and everything is really hot to me too. Like you can honestly go really rough with me on that, bite me even. I don't know if this is weird but even though it's annoying to cover up, I love taking off the makeup at the end of the day and seeing all the bruises on myself. Knowing I was walking around all day with that as my little secret." You swallowed shyly before continuing, but Jungkook interrupted the brief silence immediately with a hushed "Fuck."

You turned to face him fully and he didn't even move to meet your stare, eyeing the space above your sweatshirt's wide neckline like he was ready to devour you. Emboldened, your smile grew.

"So...yeah. I like being bitten, marked up. Mostly, uh," you rubbed a slightly trembling hand over your shoulder, "I'm just really into pain in general. Obviously not the bad 'I'm too dry and you're jackhammering me' kind of pain, or like, anal. Anal is a hard no. But things like biting, or hair pulling, or overstimulation. Or, like—I don't really know how to explain this, but...getting held too hard? That deep pain like when you get a massage when you're sore and it hurts but it's good, yknow?"

Jungkook looked like he was about to vibrate out of his skin, breathing shallow and rapid. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, just in time for you to whisper in conclusion:

"I love that feeling."

You suddenly looked away, reticent. A thick silence swelled between you, until he composed himself enough to punctuate it. "Okay. Yeah. Pain. So like, BDSM?"

"I mean, kind of? Sure? I don't have much experience with that and I don't really need the whole power dynamic aspect; I just like the, uh, physical pain. I wouldn't be opposed to trying further, but one thing I do know is I really don't like being degraded. And I'm not into the whole daddy kink thing either. I'm just not gonna call you that, sorry," you laughed, and fortunately he giggled too. "But I know that's not, like, necessary to the rest of BDSM, and the part about giving up control is still...interesting, for sure."

"Wait," Jungkook cocked his head, making a mental note of your last sentence before he went back to the previous one. "What do you mean, being degraded?"

You half-chuckled, half-cringed, never having needed to explain something like this, especially to a guy you hopefully were about to fuck. Cheers to better communication, you supposed.

"You know, how some people when they do dirty talk are like 'yeah, you little slut, you're such a whore.' I don't like being called any of that. Like it's fine that other people like it, there's nothing wrong with that, it's just really uncomfortable for me."

His brows knit together as you explained, and he shook his head so fast it almost looked cartoonish, like a little kid refusing vegetables. "Yeah, no. Don't worry, not really my thing either."

You sighed in relief. "That's nice. I feel like it's, like, weirdly common with guys. Maybe just the kind of thing people learn from porn."

"But you still like it rough, huh? Did you learn that...from porn?" he half-joked, trying to overcome both his shyness and his gritted-teeth arousal.

"No, I don’t like porn. Most of it’s really unethical. I learned from experience," you sassed back. "I don't have a whole lot, but enough to know what I like."

"Well. Hm." He worked his tongue over his teeth, poking one cheek out over his tensed jaw. You couldn't get enough of watching him grow fascinated by your every revelation, and you were preparing to keep pressing further when he beat you to it, posing a question. "Is there anything you haven't tried before, but really want to?"

Your face heated up instantly, tasting your own medicine. You looked back to your hands, breaking his intense eye contact to give yourself the courage to be even more uncomfortably honest. "I...I...um." Your first attempt at disclosing your fantasy came out as a squeak. Swallowing, you set your shoulders and tried again, selfishly reminding yourself Jungkook seemed so eager to please that this was 99% likely to get you exactly what you wanted. "I've always been, uh, really into the idea of, um, getting spanked. I've been, uh, too nervous to ever bring it up, before now obviously, but it's definitely one of the biggest kinks I've always wanted to try. Maybe being tied up too, I think I'd like it if I tried but I haven't thought about that as much. But, yeah...spanking, definitely."

"Fuuuuuuuuck."

A lengthened version of Jungkook's earlier under-breath exclamation made you peer up at him. Your thighs already pressed together from the tension of admitting something totally new, you found yourself needing even more friction just from the sight of Jungkook with his head thrown back on the couch, a veiny hand threaded in his hair to pull the long waves back from his forehead. The full reveal of his sharp eyebrows brought a whole new level of intensity to Jungkook's already beautifully carved features. He glanced over at you, then squeezed his eyes shut with a terse exhale. You couldn't place why, but you felt a deep attraction to the way he expertly restrained himself from acting on the lust written over his face—not under your control, but his own.

"Oh, fuck. What the fuck. How the fuck would you fucking know," he swore more in a single burst than he cumulatively had ever in your presence.

"What?" you toyed, heart rate still high but relaxed enough to enjoy agitating him. "Something ring a bell?"

Jungkook shuddered out a long breath, hand ruffling his hair as his other forearm still tried desperately to subdue his boner.

"Everything," he hissed, more willing to elaborate now that you had done the same, and especially now that he could tell you really did enjoy him being more assertive. "Shit. I...I want...I know you said not to just say this but I really do want everything you want. I can't wait to mark you up. I can't wait to hold you down and bruise your neck. I want it all, I want to make you hurt so good. And then—" Breathless. He looked almost embarrassed. "Then you had to go and somehow guess basically my biggest fucking kink, I can't fucking believe you." Both hands had come up to seize his long locks as he held himself back physically, while finally letting his guard down mentally to declare everything he intended to do to you. Letting out a short laugh, he finally met your eyes. "I wanna spank your ass bright red. Fuck. This is crazy. You're perfect."

Your core throbbed at every bold word. Leaning in close to him, you let your lips approach Jungkook's beautifully sculpted jawline as he panted, his chin tossed up to fully expose his neck. You stopped just short of his skin, in awe of how much you'd been able to work him up and still so tempted to take it to the next level. "Fuck," you echoed. "This is so hot," you murmured almost to yourself. Your eyes closing along with his, you dealt the final blow. "I love that we have so much in common. But come on, you promised. One thing that's not on my list."

Jungkook whined. You could tell he needed to touch you so badly, and no one was stopping him but himself. He had no way of knowing that if he cut the whole discussion and just took you, you wouldn't even try to resist at this point. Staring at his trembling mouth from below, you quickly averted your eyes when he opened his, pretending you hadn't been looking. He inhaled a short hiss, and then spoke.

"Okay..." He paused after just the first word, blowing air through the tiny "o" of his mouth as his eyes bugged slightly from nervousness. He couldn't resist a challenge, though, and his urge to please you overwhelmed his reluctance to peel back one more layer. "So, the pain thing. I think we, uh, feel the same about me giving and you receiving. But...I'm really into it for myself too. I don't know if you'd be comfortable with it, I know you maybe want me to be more dominant and I think I like that more too in general, but you can be as rough with me as you want back. I'd love that." Eyes still open but fluttering, Jungkook's tone grew breathier, heady as he confessed. You almost giggled at how bashfully he worded his desire to dominate you, to rough each other up, but the contrast was so hot you couldn't help sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, eager for him to continue. His voice lowered. "I love being scratched, marked, bitten...hit me, push me back, any kind of pain or any way you can hurt me, I want it." He shivered, but his voice firmed up even further. "I want it so bad."

You fought to stay motionless beside him, unable to even process how much more his honesty had turned you on. You felt helpless in your desire for him, your craving to give him everything he wanted and more. He noticed your charged stillness and shifted toward you, removing a hand from his hair to finally reach for your face. Threading his fingers through your hair instinctively like he had with his own, he tilted your head back to access your neck. Jungkook finally felt confident enough to tease you back as he skimmed his lips over your pulse point, tugging your skin between his teeth for a gentle first taste and grinning when you moaned. Seeing someone so satisfied, for reasons better than just his body or their pride, brought the most incredible rush of blood to his head. And his other head.

"And I get why you want it too," he finished with a whisper in your ear. "So trust me when I say I really, really want to give it to you."

In an instant, your hands yanked his hair down to bring his face up to yours, mouths crashing together. Feverish, restless, you kissed him, hastily attempting to straddle his thick thighs before he threw his body over yours and pinned you to the back of the couch. His hands wandered, intrepid, from your waist to a quick squeeze of your breasts before he spiraled you into his strong arms. Pressing your chest flush with his as your mouths meshed, he ground his hips into you shamelessly, enjoying the way you struggled beneath him to align your core with his rock-hard dick.

"Your room?" You rushed out the words.

Jungkook laughed a little, his tone half whine and half dare. "So we're done talking?"

"Come on," you pleaded back. He finally relented, pulling you up with him and dragging you across the living room and through his door, lips not leaving yours for a second. You backed him into the bed with your arms against his strong chest, and once he was sitting perched on the edge, you laid yourself horizontally over his thighs.

"What are you doing?" he murmured, curling a hand over the dip of your waist to hold you gently.

You angled your head back to make unsteady eye contact with him, flipping your shorts down boldly. His free hand automatically reached to slowly conform to the shape of your ass, so eager to touch you but tentative as he grazed your curves.

"Giving you exactly what you want."

"Fuck. Really? You're sure about this?" Jungkook held careful eye contact as you brought your arms back up, crossing your wrists over your head delicately. You nodded slightly and did your best to meet his gaze with confident invitation, convincing him how much you trusted and wanted him.

He smoothed his warm hand over your ass one more time, then brought it up and watched your thighs tighten at the loss of his touch. Breathing in, still a little shakily, he brought his hand down on your right cheek with a loud but mild smack. A grunt of satisfaction involuntarily left him when he saw your face flinch down into the sheets, subduing a small noise of surprise. He returned his hand to caress the light redness he'd left, checking in with you again. "Is this okay? Let me know if I should stop."

You replied with your face still tucked between your arms, muffled by the bed. "More than okay. Please don't stop."

He spanked you again, moving to your left cheek. This time you felt his dick twitch under you and couldn't help grinding down on him a little bit. "Is that as hard as you can go?" you taunted in low tones, brave enough to egg him on but not quite enough to meet his eyes again.

Jungkook's thighs and core tensed under you, and he squeezed his fingertips tighter, digging into the skin of your ass. "Not at all," he said simply.

Deep breath. A few seconds passed, and his hand came down, harshly. You cried out in shock, the timing unexpected and the sting far sharper, and he gave your other cheek a fourth hard smack before you could even process the third one. "Harder?" he tested. "Tell me."

Another spank. "Mmmf."

"You like this, huh?"

"Yes, I told you," you whimpered back, half-teasing even though you were in no position to do so. Immediately, he cut you off with a stinging hit across both cheeks, and you moaned.

"You really do," he breathed lowly. "Fuck yeah. Take it then."

He spanked you again, and again, then paused, tugging down your shorts all the way to your ankles to expose the crease right above your thighs. Rubbing your already sore bottom, Jungkook cupped the underside of its curve in his big, firm hand. Already anticipating your whine, he drew back his touch and hummed in harmony with you. He continued landing satisfyingly hard smacks, alternating to cover your ass evenly. His dick strained through his pants more and more each time you trembled under his touch. Never hitting you hard enough to do serious damage, he still clearly enjoyed his thorough reddening of your ass, and occasionally took a moment just to caress your skin as it warmed from the spanking. The pain lit your senses up from head to toe. Face burning with deep arousal, you mentally thanked yourself for going out of your comfort zone and unprecedentedly admitting your kinks before even venturing into your first time together. Amidst the thrilling sting of his hand meeting your soft curves, Jungkook eventually noticed your thighs clenching together, craving friction but not really wanting relief from the pleasurable burn.

"You're wet," he marveled, sliding two warm fingers up and down your slit.

"Mhm," you mumbled back as you tilted your hips into his hand. He gave you a light slap right on the folds between your legs, eliciting another soft moan.

"So good for me," Jungkook said softly, pulling you up into his lap by your waist. "You look so pretty like this. I wanna see all of you." He tugged your sweatshirt over your head, followed by your sports bra, thankful that it stretched over your head easily. Suddenly grinning, he wound up and shot it across the room like a rubber band, and you smacked his arm, giggling.

"What was that? You cheeseball," you teased, and he blinked, chuckling lightly back. It occurred to him that he'd never laughed, or made someone laugh, during sex before.

"It was so stretchy! Don't make fun of me," he blushed.

"You're so cute," you said, fingers sliding under his t-shirt hem.

"Cute?" His eyebrows rose in mock disbelief, and he reached around to land another hit to your still-red asscheek.

"Hot," you amended. Raising his shirt and finally getting a full glimpse of his enviable abs, you groaned. "You're extremely hot, and also really cute, and it's kind of ridiculous and I don't really know how to handle all of it at once."

His face scrunching up into a smile at the praise, he fell back onto the bed with his arms behind his head. "You are too, you know. Really cute, of course. But really hot too." As you discarded his shirt and moved on to easing his sweatpants down his hips, you held in a gasp as his erection sprung up from the waistband. He was big, thick, and painfully hard, his tip glistening warm with precum and a lone vein running prominently up his smooth shaft. Although you wouldn't be corroborating them, you had to admit to yourself that all the rumors were true. You instinctively curled a hand around it, barely covering half his length, and he winced at your slightest touch. Pulling off with a single slow stroke, you slid his sweatpants and briefs all the way to the floor and then stood, looking up from his legs to his blown-out eyes to take in the glorious sight of his fully naked body.

"You shave," you said, surprised by the clean skin under his arms and between his legs.

"Yeah," he demurred, self-conscious for some reason. He lowered his arms to fold them over his torso, somehow defining his biceps even more. "I'm on the dance team, and it's nice to feel all smooth for practice and stuff. I don't know, I just like it."

"Oh, that's cool! No worries, I like it too. And you don't mind that..." You looked down at yourself, still just standing naked in front of him. "...I don't? Like, down there at least."

"No, you do you!" he said quickly. With a shy smile, he admitted, "I actually kind of like it on you. I do this for me, anyway, not for anyone else," he playfully noted. Slowly, he was sitting up to take hold of your waist and lower you down to the bed with him. Pausing to kiss the sweet spot under your jaw, he continued. "So don't feel like you have to do anything, or not do anything, either."

Jungkook couldn't quite explain the nature of how his attraction to you had developed. Seeing how open and honest you were with him made it easy for him to be honest with you too, and just to feel comfortable being himself. He admired the way he could still tell you sometimes got nervous like him, but it didn’t stop you from getting real or going bolder. Unable to fully express it in words, he just hoped to ensure you felt as comfortable and respected around him as he did around you. He already knew that he wanted this to be more than just a one-time thing, and while he still hesitated to assume that you felt the same, he intended to leave no doubt by the end of the night.

You moaned as he nipped at the skin of your neck. It was so easy to get swept back up in Jungkook. You could barely handle the friction of his dick rutting against your wet folds from below, craving him inside you. "Ughhh. Wait, one more thing. I'm on the pill, are you clean?"

"Yes," he gasped, barely removing his mouth from your jaw. "Are you?"

"Yeah, so we don't need a condom. If that's cool with you!"

"Yeah! But, you're ready?" He seemed surprised.

"Aren't you?" you whined, beyond holding back. He felt so unbearably hard that his coherence and willpower kind of surprised you too. "Please, I want you so bad."

To your surprise, he lowered his head to the crest of your legs, dotting wet kisses down your torso. Keeping his big brown eyes on you, he teased your entrance with a finger and echoed your immediate groan at the welcome stretch.

"You really are ready," he remarked, awed at the ease with which your wetness sucked the digit in. Frankly, you were in awe as well. It had taken your ex-boyfriend months to figure out how to get you this worked up. Jungkook either had even more experience than you'd heard from the grapevine, or he was a natural. Or maybe you were just really, ridiculously, primally attracted to him. He went on to curve his finger in you and lick a messy swipe up your folds, sucking hard once he reached your sensitive clit. You cried out at the delicious burst of stimulation and he rose up to catch your lips with his.

"I had to do that, just once," he grinned breathlessly. "But—"

"Let me suck you off," you interjected, unbelievably fucking turned on and dying to please him.

"No," he gasped with far more fervency than you'd think anyone could refuse a blowjob. "Please, I was about to say—" he choked out a high-pitched moan as you ran a single finger up his shaft in anticipation, sinking the nails of your other hand into his thigh. "—I think I'm gonna explode if I don't get inside you right this second."

So he did have a breaking point. "Fuck," you muttered, bringing your legs around his to tuck your heels under his tight ass as he lined up. He eased his tip in, keeping heavy eyes on you the whole time, and you could feel the hot, thick tension in his thighs as he struggled to hold himself back from just thrusting into your heat. Slowly, he drew closer into you until he bottomed out with a low moan. You whined at the perfect slight pain of the stretch, and Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut, gripping you by your waist. Watching the veins in his forearms stand out as he drove almost all the way out and back into you, you rocked your hips carefully against his with each smooth stroke, getting used to his fullness. When his balls met your ass again, he shuddered a bit and opened his eyes into yours.

You answered his question before he could even ask it. "Jungkook—you feel so good. You can go faster, it's okay."

A smile hit his eyes before his mouth, and he kissed you once, pressing his chest to yours and intertwining your tongues eagerly. You bit his bottom lip as he slowly drew away, tugging it between your teeth to pull a sweet little whimper from his throat. Grinning, he leaned back in to touch his forehead to yours and simultaneously slid a subtle hand under your ass to curve your hips up with his. The slight leftover sensitivity of your skin amplified his light touch, and Jungkook seemed to realize this, curling his fingers to tease you with the tips of his nails. Instinctively, you ducked to bite his neck, not even registering your move to pass the pain back to him until he choked out a beautifully half-restrained moan and snapped his hips into yours. Gasping, you encouraged him to lose himself in you, dragging your lips up to latch around his earlobe. He hissed and thrust into you sharply again, meeting the time of your movements as you swirled your tongue between each of his hoop earrings. Soon he was pounding you rhythmically, finally letting you feel the full force of his strength but keeping remarkable control over both his body and yours. Both of you had gone silent except for your heavy breaths, lost in the moment, but the flexed shivers of his thighs and twitches of his fingers in your hair told you all you needed to know. Suddenly yanking your strands to pull you back from the additional bruise you'd sucked beneath his ear, he earned a new set of scratches on his back as your hands dragged down the muscular expanse in reply. Jungkook switched places with you to draw dark clouds from your skin, a storm brewing under your jaw. Your face fell into pure bliss, eyes shut and immersed in the barrage of sensation from his hands, mouth, and big dick filling you. Already feeling the familiar tension that preceded an orgasm building through your whole body, you chased him closer to his climax too, grinding back roughly into every thrust and raking your hands over every part of his firm body you could reach.

You had really been fooling yourself when you thought you could try something casual for once. You wanted more of Jungkook, all of Jungkook, nothing but Jungkook ever again. Knowing he'd never even gone back to the same hookup twice sank slight anxiety into your stomach, a kind of future nostalgia for this moment you already feared losing. You knew you weren't anything special compared to the catalogue of gorgeous girls he'd had his turn with, but a deviant voice whispered from the back of your mind that you could be, because it was clear none had bothered to learn him like this. You'd still try your desperate best not to want too much from him, but you resolved to do whatever you could to make him crave more.

Rolling your hips in a smooth circle against him, you clenched around his dick and your hands tightened their fierce hold on his tiny waist. You felt his abs tense within your grasp as he tried not to stutter into you.

"Fuck. No." His voice cracked, but held an undertone of ferocity. "You come first." Jungkook rushed a hand to your clit, adding pressure in small, deft motions with a fingertip as he kept fucking you deep. You sank your teeth into his shoulder in response, drawing your hands up his back to clutch him closer to you, and Jungkook cried out. You left your mouth on his golden skin to stifle your moans as he sped up his fingers, and he tried to let you stay there but eventually couldn't help pulling you off him to see your face. Eyes narrowed and eyebrows turning up sharp at the ends, he watched you like a hawk to track the exact moment when he pushed you over the edge. Your face crumpled and you felt your whole body burn under his gaze as you came, squeezing around him in waves of pleasure while he fucked you through your high, unrelenting. Drinking up the bliss obvious on your features, Jungkook's eyes never left yours and his expression grew more and more fucked out. You marveled at how even as you lost control and energy to fuck him back, your body freezing in orgasm seemed to turn him on further. One last pulse of the tension leaving your core made his dick throb inside you, and you impulsively broke your eye contact to lean in and bite down slow but hard on his neck again. He gasped.

"You're amazing." Murmuring into his skin, you kissed the bite marks gently. Jungkook whimpered at the sweet contradiction and lurched into your hips even harder. You recovered to move with him, squeezing him deeper into you every time he bottomed out, and as his breathless moans escalated in pitch, his whole body shivered with each stroke. Pressing wet, heavy kisses all over his neck, you felt his jaw flutter while his lips hung open. His considerable strength spent, Jungkook shuddered one last hard thrust into you and finally let go, coating your walls from within. His hips lightly rocked against yours as he stayed deep inside you, still hard and savoring the euphoric release he'd held back for so long. You felt so incredibly warm and comfortable around his sensitive dick, relaxed but still holding him tight, and he couldn't help holding you up for a languid kiss before pulling out of you smoothly.

He briefly looked into your eyes, and you saw stars. The sun had continued to set outside, and it peeked between the blinds of his window to wrap you both in a warm, slivered glow. Staring down at his hands on your body, Jungkook took a deep breath and collapsed to your side, holding you close. You settled into him, cupping a hand over his head on your chest. With your fingers laced through his sweaty hair, you stroked his temple with your thumb, worrying for a second whether the gesture seemed too intimate but forgetting your fear when he snuggled up into your touch. You felt the need to say something, to figure out what the fuck was next after this, but stayed silent, not wanting to disturb the comforting weight of his frame. Heartbeat still racing, Jungkook stretched out to breathe a long sigh. As he sank back into you, you stretched under him too, letting his solid, warm body drape over you like a blanket. This couldn't be farther from what you'd expected with him, but you weren't about to make it stop. Surely, eventually, he would.

A minute passed. And then five. And then, before either of you could talk yourselves out of it, you were asleep, intertwined.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #college!jungkook #college au!jungkook #bts college au #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #my writing #fic: anti-hero #anti-hero #anti hero

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uhhhhhhhhhsblogyea · 3 years

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♤| dragon ball shapeshifter au

storyline rundown

part two

tw: profanity !! a bit of gore and such

the story begins on kakarot's farm! he lives with his parents, bardock and gine, and his brother raditz.

kakarot takes his produce to the market to sell, talking to krillin who is a police officer watching over in case of robbery or stolen goods, with his wife 18 and his daughter marron.

he hangs out there and sells all his produce, making a whopping amount of money to give back to his mother to go towards their farm. so thats what he does.

later that night, raditz barged in through the door, huffing loudly and covered in purple blood. it had a reddish tint. gine and bardock jump to their feet, bardock still in his training gi and gine in her white shirt and some sweatpants. "raditz!? what happened?" bardock exclaimed, gine following up with "why are you covered in... purple blood!?" this caused kakarot to come out of his room in a rush, "h-h-holy s-shit! i didnt kill anyone i swear mom, mom, dad please, i wouldn't do that!" raditz panicked. "s-something tried to attack me! i didnt know what to do so i attacked back!!" he tries to wipe the blood off, it being on his face.

whatever happened, scared raditz enough to make him shake in fear and what seems to be regret despite it being to protect himself.

kakarot however, still was unsure what happened. his father said he would explain in the morning, the situation was too dire for kakarot to get involved - especially with the police.

in town, vegeta covered his bloodied chest, panting as he hid deep in an alleyway. "goddammit," he huffs, slicking his hair back to keep the human bangs out of his face. hes got a huge gash across his chest, thanks to that damned raditz he happened to work with. luckily, he was morphed into some other alien lifeform and not his original shift state. he slowly morphed into a bird, a finch, and flew off to him apartment. he always kept his window cracked just in case this were to happen. just his luck, we wont be able to eat and to heal he needs that energy for food or else hell be out asleep for awhile.

he decides calling off work, so thats what he does. what he doesnt expect is a man with a thick ass fucking tail and slicked back purple hair and red eyes to be reading a book, lounging like a king on his bed. "f... frieza!?" vegeta says, startled.

"ah hello my creation! lovely seeing you here, dont you think?" he throws the book off to the side, getting up and striding over to the bloodied vegeta. "aw looks like you got a paper cut." he jabs a finger into vegetas cut across his chest. vegeta groans in pain, a tentacle whipping around to hit frieza away into a safer distance, but the icejin blocks smoothly with his muscled tail.

from here:

wow!! you found out vegeta is a "creation" of friezas, but what exactly does that mean?

raditz gets taken in for questioning. he gets blamed for a murder that happened on the otherside of town, the law system being dumb sentenced him to 25 years in prision for a murder he didnt do

kakarot is confused, bardock telling him there arent any alien threats and it was a misunderstanding on the jury and judge's parts bc raditz was getting mugged and a murder far away happened at roughly the same time, and they were desperate to throw someone into jail.

this is a lie, to some extent. kakarot believes it, living happily thinking there are no threats

vegeta attacked raditz, needing food. shapeshifters need to eat hearts and lungs of animals as food

raditz is the one who cut him across the chest (thatd why he has a scar on his chest in the ref sheet)

kakarot has to bring crops and milk into a market farther into town sometime in the next week, it being an event ran by capsule corp, a company that produces a lot of housing and vehicles and being in business for 40 years being the anniversary that day.

vegeta is a mechanical manager, wearing fancy clothing that day since its technically a high spot in the ranks for capsule corp.

vegeta likes milk, surprisingly. it helps a lot when recovering damage, especially his species. this is when he meets kakarot

kakarot is running his stand with the crates of crops and glass jars of milk set out on display with their price, krillin with him

vegeta is annoyed he has to speak up to get the seller's attention so he grunts with an "ahem"

kakarot jumps, apologizing and asking what he wants to buy. vegeta gets his milk and some vegetables for someone he knows

"hey, whats with the fancy suit?"

"you dont know who i am?"

"no. should i?"

"i-? im vegeta! im manager of the mechanics in capsule corp!"

"oh. is the job hard?"

they conversate, as kakarot sells his produce happily listening as he was able to get the short man with a temper to talk about his job.

vegeta himself was caught off guard by this action but happily talks

this ends in kakarot running behing the stand's curtain and grabbing his business card so vegeta can have a discount on milk next time he decides to buy

vegeta takes the card walking off

the card has kakarots name and number on the back, a message saying "text me personally if you want extra, i dont mind taking some. you seem cool!"

vegeta is a bit ticked, but pockets the card

over time, vegeta and kakarot talk over text a bit, kakarot delivering him milk like an old time milk delivery boy

turns out he actually used to be one as a kid

turns out hes been into marial arts as well, a long time interest of vegetas

they bond over this, kakarot find himself growing a crush on vegeta

one time kakarot stops buy with a delivery unannounced, not knowing he typed the text but didnt send it. he knocks on vegetas apartment door, but no answer.

he checks to see if its unlocked, and it is so he lets himself in, just wanting to put the delivery on the counter and head out.

he doesnt expect to turn around and see a vegeta with a towel wrapped around his waist, tentacles coming out of his back, green eyes, and sharp ears, teeth, and claws. "K-KAKAROT!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" he yells, surprised. he doesn't have bangs either

"why do you have tentacles?? why do you look different? why do you have that scar?"

vegeta is caught off guard, not sure if he should push kakarot out or tell him the truth. one way or another he knows the truth will spread, so he carefully debates his options

he tells kakarot the truth, hes a shapeshifter and hes insanely dangerous

kakarot is surprised dangerous aliens exist

he tells vegeta this, and deep down vegeta is mad kakarot is sheltered

little do they know as they conversate and bond, growing closer to each other kakarot finds out vegeta made a vow not to ever get in a relationship no matter how much he envied them, especially a human relationship, a certain someone is watching them and listening in, theyre keeping tabs on vegetas and kakarots feelings

trust issues amirite?

later that night, kakarot says his goodbye heading home, heart pounding. wow!!!! vegeta is... great. very great. kinda cute too, i mean what!?? no!!

kakarot rants to himself aloud in his room, window open to keep himself cool, about vegeta as he debates his feelings. he doesnt care if this seems out of character in his friends terms, all they see from him anyway is a dense fightcrazed guy with a dysfunctional relationship with an ex and his son. he realized vegeta doesnt see him like that, but, what DOES vegeta see him as?

he calls it a night

he wakes up to a "thwap, thwap, thwap" against his wooden floor

he sits up, looking around and seeing a short figure sitting at his desk.

"whos there?"

"ah, youre awake monkey! i have valuable information for you, about your lovely vegeta." the voice is squeaky

"and, who is telling me this?" kakarots interest is piqued, not seeing the mysterious figure as a threat, as of now at least

"oh-hohoho! im dr. cold! but please, call me frieza. doctor cold is my father's name."

"and what do you have to tell me about vegeta?"

"mmm, are you sure you want to know?" he gets up, beginning to pace

"theres a catch isnt there" kakarot realizes, serious

"oh! maybe you arent so dense afterall. yes, there iss monkey. its simple, deliever some of your left over crop to my facility tomorrow, i already left the address on a paper over on that... pitiful little desk of yours." frieza pauses. "vegeta will kill you if you arent careful. hes hungry, and he wants that heart. but... i think the poor creation wants it in more than one way. kill him before he kills you."

frieza hands kakarot a box cutter

"thats the only thing that will kill him. if you dont do it i expect that delivery tomorrow by midnight. if you dont show, and theres no news of him being dead, youll be a brilliant collection to my creations, monkey!" the man laughs in joy, clasping his hands together as his red eyes pierce through kakarot

kakarot reluctantly agrees, unsure how this will play out

PART TWO WILL BE MADE SOON!!!

anyway heres the part 1 of the rundown.

#shs goku #shs frieza #shs #shs vegeta #shs dbz au #dbz au #kakavege #frieza being a damn brat lol #dragon ball #I REALLY HOPE YALL FIND THIS INTERESTING #theres a lot that went into it #txt post #long post

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samanthadalton · 4 years

Text

Truth or dare

(this is loosely based on the truth or dare scene from the freshman where mc and kaitlyn kissed for the first time)

sorry if it sucks im still getting used to writing 😬😬

Pairing: poppy x mc (Bea)

warnings: i’m not sure there’s any actual warnings except for any implied sex near the end

tag list: @somewillwin @save-me-the-last-dance @baexpoppy @cloud9in (if you wanna be tagged in any future writings just ask)

word count: i have no idea tbh i got carried away

You were lying on the couch in your dorm room scrolling through instagram trying to find some entertainment since Zoey apologetically told you she’s ditching your saturday plans of drinking wine and binge-watching how to get away with murder since she had a hot date with one of the guys on the football team. You find yourself scrolling through Poppy’s instagram- not because you liked her or anything- i mean liking Poppy your number 1 enemy?? that was a big hell no 👁👄👁- you were just merely curious about her new brand deal with Read My Lips since Veronica mentioned that the brand in reality was pretty crap and made both her and Poppy break out like crazy.

Speaking (or thinking really) of the devil, you suddenly get a text from Veronica:

V.: Hey social climber you got any plans tonight 👀

you: not really no, why? you finally taking me up on my offer 😉

V.: You wish Farmsville, come over to the sorority tonight

you: still sounds like you want me

V.: Guess you’ll have to come and find out 💋

You put your phone down and internally debate with yourself as to whether or not you should go since this is the first time Veronica has ever asked to hang out with you and you’re not sure about her intentions. ‘Well she’s hot and wants me there so I should go’ You dismiss any negative thoughts from your head and decide to head over to the sorority house dressed casually in a pair of dark blue ripped jeans and a black cropped t-shirt and black vans- you didn’t forget to wear your super sexy black laced lingerie since anything could happen tonight, except you didn’t expect this outcome....

You text Veronica as you make your way to the sorority and she texts you back with a thumbs up and tells you to just make your way inside and meet her in the living room. You begin to worry a little since you’re not sure if the rest of the Zeta girls will be at the house, and you were kinda hoping to have a chilled out night with Veronica or at least some fun without anyone else knowing about it.

You enter the house and make your way into the living room where you see a bunch of the zeta girls sitting in a circle, some sitting on the sofa while others are on the floor with pillows and blankets to make themselves more comfortable. Your mind stutters because this isn’t exactly what you were expecting but you’re soon pulled out of your thoughts when Veronica grabs you by your arms and drags you into the middle of the room, “Hughes you made it!” she squeaks.

“Veronica what the hell, what’s going o-“

“What the hell is she doing here?” You already know who it is judging by the cutthroat tone, though she doesn’t raise her voice, Poppy Min Sinclair has the ability to slice through anything just using her words. Without missing a beat Veronica loops her arms through yours and spins you around to face the queen of belvoire herself.

“I invited her here, I thought it would be more fun to include someone who isn’t part of the sorority”

“So you thought to invite wannabee Hughes” Poppy crosses her arms and of course her trusty little pup is there too and a second later she crosses her arms too.

“Eww Veronica you can’t just invite random people who knows what farm diseases she has”

You roll your eyes at Chloe, I mean seriously is that the best she can come up with? You step forward and Veronica lets go of your arm.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on but if this is meant to be some weird hazing or sorority prank I don’t wanna be a part of it”

“Don’t worry Bea, we are just playing truth or dare” Taylor squeaks out, you turn and face her, bless the poor girl she looks like she’s about to combust from embarrassment after Poppy clears her throat.

Poppy looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “shut up Tess, but colour me intrigued let’s see what kind of secrets Farmsville is hiding”

She begins looking at you with a little curiousity and starts to take in your outfit, “someone get her some proper clothes if she’s going to stay”

Its only then you realise that the zeta girls aren’t wearing their usual preppy outfits but are all wearing some cute nightwear and you realise you stick out like a sore thumb.

“Don’t worry P, since I invited her i’ll get her some clothes” Veronica takes hold of your arms and pulls you to her room.

After finding some suitable clothing for you (a white silk tank top with a cute lace around the neckline and some pink silk shorts) Veronica leaves you in her room to get changed and soon you make your way back downstairs to the circle where the girls are casually drinking wine in some very expensive looking crystal glasses.

“Tess, get Farmsville a drink” Poppy practically barks and Taylor runs to grab you a glass. You sit on the floor next to Veronica while Poppy and Chloe sit opposite you on the sofa and the other girls fill up the rest of the circle.

Once everyone begins drinking, Poppy abruptly claps her hands together and all the girls lift up their heads to look at the blonde, “now ladies we can finally begin” her eyes move to yours “and since it’s wannabee’s first time here you start, truth or dare”.

gulp.

If you choose truth, Poppy has the chance to ask you anything but if you pick dare she could make you do anything, you decide to pick the safest (or the safer one) option and choose

“truth”

Poppy’s eyes bore into yours while she thinks of a question, however Chloe hiccups (she must be a total lightweight bc she already seems kinda drunk) and speaks out “do you have a crush on Professor Kingsley, I see the way you look at her”

Poppy looks slightly annoyed that Chloe took her opportunity to ask you a question and covertly digs her nails into Chloe whose face just turns bright pink.

You on the other hand begin sweating a little since you can’t exactly be too truthful and tell them you slept with her before the school year began so you give a careful smile and answer, “I mean she is hot who wouldn’t have a crush on her”

The rest of the girls already seem bored since the answer wasn’t exactly satisfying so you turn to Veronica

“I guess it’s my turn to ask, truth or dare”

.....

After a bunch of rounds of truth or dare, in which you learnt that Taylor has some really weird sex fantasies and Chloe once knocked herself out by walking into a lamppost, while Veronica was forced to upload a picture of herself pretending to throw up in the toilet and a few of the other girls were forced to either eat a bunch of chillies and prank call Dean Steinhelm, it’s finally Poppy’s turn.

“I think I should ask Poppy, truth or dare” you smirk smugly at the blonde while she just looks unimpressed and merely just shrugs

“Go ahead Hughes, I choose truth”

You think carefully, I mean you could ask her anything, however there’s one thing that’s been eating up your mind and you just have to ask

“Do you really love Bradley”

Poppy just scoffs, “seriously? that’s what you wanted to waste your question on?”

She raises an eyebrow at you, unsure of your angle since she knows you could’ve literally asked her anything. she keeps her answer short and unfulfilling, “It’s a new relationship so I wouldn’t say I love him”

And then she just doesn’t say anything else, she looks down at her drink and carefully sips her wine while you just stare at her trying to calculate what you can take from her answer.

Veronica snaps you out of your thoughts and slightly slurs her words, “My turn Hughes, truth or dare?”

“dare”

“I dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room”

damnit. one thing you were trying to avoid was awkward and/or forced intimacy or contact with these girls. Your eyes shift between each girl trying to buy some time before you’re expected to make a move.

Your eyes fall on Poppy’s and as your eyes meet, her dark brown eyes open wide when she realises what you’re thinking. But she doesn’t look mad or disgusted, instead she looks kinda intrigued and a little smirk appears on her face like she’s flattered you chose her.

You crawl over to the sofa where Poppy is sitting and all eyes are on you now.

“Well indulge me Miss Min Sinclair?” You give Poppy a cheeky little wink and she visibly blushes.

“Shut up Hughes don’t make it awkward, it’s just a kiss”

You deflate a little, “right, it’s just a kiss”

You lean up a little to reach the blonde’s lips and you tentatively brush your lips against one another.

‘Damn her lips are soft’ you think to yourself and when you suddenly get a taste of her strawberry lipgloss you begin to lose control. You open your mouth to kiss her harder while Poppy takes a sharp breath and opens her mouth to allow your tongue inside her mouth. She moans a little and you swear it’s the hottest sound you’ve ever heard and you kiss her even harder, lips pressing together full of passion. You finally break apart from the kiss, both gasping for the much needed air and you both stare intensely at each other momentarily forgetting where you are.

The spell is broken by someone clearing their throat and you turn to see Veronica frowning slightly, “damn I wish I had my phone right now, that was so hot my Veronicats would’ve loved that”

You and Poppy awkwardly look at each other and both blushing furiously, you look away simultaneously and you make your way back to your side of the circle.

You think to yourself ‘what the hell was that’ while Poppy already looks like she’s ready to move on. With a flip of her hair she clears her throat, “well it’s pretty obvious I’m the hottest one here so I don’t blame Farmsville for wanting to get a taste.”

You think to yourself ‘that was more than a taste’. While reeling back from the epic kiss you don’t even have a comeback but luckily drunk Chloe is there to rescue you from this awkward moment by shouting “MY TURN!”

The rest of the night seems to go on without anything else as scandalous as that kiss happening, excluding Chloe falling face down on the floor when she was trying to get to the bathroom and eventually the zeta girls begin to make their way to bed after drinking way too much.

You’re left with only Veronica and Poppy in the living room and when you get up to stand you feel a little dizzy, you blink crazily and groan “damn i think i drank way too much”

“It’s cool Hughes you can crash on the couch tonight there’s no way you can get back to your dorm like this” and with that Veronica pats your back and makes her way to her room leaving you alone with Poppy.

Poppy just sits on the sofa watching Veronica leave and you clear your throat which gets her attention. She turns her head to look at you, and her eyes check you out, almost like she’s contemplating.

You try and dispell some of the awkwardness since Poppy is just staring at you and you jokingly say “well that kiss was pretty good huh?”

Poppy pouts her lips a little and raises one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows at you, “just pretty good?” her tone almost teasing.

You almost falter a little in your gaze, was Poppy flirting with you or was it just the alcohol making you delirious? “Well, considering it was cut short and there was an entire audience watching us I guess it wasn’t exactly my best”

“Oh? So you think you can do better than that?” Poppy slowly stands and walks towards you, you swear that she juts her hips a little as she makes her way to stand right in front of you.

You begin to feel flustered and just manage to gape your mouth open with no words coming out of it. Poppy simply smirks at your bewildered expression while her fingers slowly trail up your arm and she leans in and whispers into your ear, “why don’t you show me”

#playchoices #queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #i hope this doesn’t suck

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mischiefandi · 4 years

Text

A Shitty Love Song (Part 1) - Stiles Stilinski

Wild Ones

A/N: hey everyone! this has been a long time coming! thank you for lovely comments on my previous post, im super happy to finally be posting this. a HUGE thank you to @duskholland for helping me out so much with this series, ily to death bitch. enjoyy yall

Summary: Y/N is a 17 year old girl who struggles in an epic battle against herself. Whether it is amor’s icy grasp or life’s unexpected course that forces her to finally open up, only one thing is certain. The truth cannot be long hidden.

Warnings: underage drinking, party times, maybe a couple of swear words but im not sure haha

Word Count: 5,3K

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Y/N)

Series Masterlist

(picture is not mine -> credits to @ pechka on unsplash)

Seasons before, in the early fall where the leaves don’t yet want to leave their wooden hooks, Y/N had just started her junior year of high school. Being the new girl in school, she was afraid of being alone - something she had always been - but not this year. Whether it was chance or fate, she happened to fall upon a curious but wonderful group of people who quickly became her friends.

At its center, Scott McCall, young lacrosse player with a boyish charm and a heart of gold and by his side, Stiles Stilinski, an eccentric and spirited young man. Surrounding them were Lydia Martin, the fiery and confident genius, the sweet yet lethal huntress, Allison Argent, and finally Isaac Lahey, charming Mr Mischief himself.

This pack of wild cards had found a new companion, and Y/N fit in like a puzzle piece filling in its designated spot. She got along with everyone in the group, forming indestructible friendships with these eccentric teenagers, and she felt fortunate beyond belief. More often than not, she would eat with them by the walnut tree outside of the school. The group would share stories and food, complaining about the soporific lessons from the earlier period, or excitedly planning the next outing, the next party. Every week, the teenagers would go hang out in the woods by the mystical ruins of the Hale House, doing more of the same. Life was light and good.

The group had planned on hanging out by the Hale House one quiet September afternoon, but the universe likes to play tricks, and somehow Y/N and Stiles were the only ones to show up. Deeming it a happy accident, the pair walked through the damp woods together, talking about their day and slowly letting each other in. Laughter echoed between the trees and the wind turned.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

A little more than a month had gone by and Halloween was just around the corner. Classes seemed longer than usual, bigger stacks of schoolwork forming daunting piles on Y/N’s desk. But school was the last thing she could think of when she got home after a long day of concentration. The only thing that mattered, was Stiles. Video calls, phone calls, and late night texts that seemed to never cease took over the second Y/N’s feet passed the threshold of her home. And nothing compared to these conversations.

“I’m sorry but no.”

“Stiles, stop, seriously.”

The mole-speckled boy lunged forward in front of the screen and passed a shaking hand through his spiky hair.

“There is no way you like the second trilogy better than the first one. It’s just not possible.”

“Well it is possible, because I do,” Y/N retorted, her unfazed expression gleaming back at him.

“Literally how? The group dynamic alone should make you see reason. I mean come on. Han and Leia? Han and Chewie? Han and Luke?”

“You do know Star Wars doesn’t exclusively revolve around Han Solo right?” she asked, her lips breaking into a smirk.

“First of all, no. Second, give me one single reason why the second trilogy is better than the first,” Stiles said, “I dare you.”

“One reason?”

The boy nodded, serious as a statue.

“Hayden Christensen.”

Stiles groaned deeply, his face buried in his large hands.

“Can’t even have a serious discussion about Star Wars with someone rational.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“You’re the worst.”

Y/N paused, holding a finger to her chin.

“Hmm, agree to disagree.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Hey! How can we have an intelligent debate about anything if you use swearing as a last resort.”

“I have given up on us. It’s over.”

Y/N laughed profusely against her pillow, shaking her head.

“You’re a drama queen.”

“FRIENDSHIP OVER!” Stiles bellowed and Y/N shot her head back, unstoppable laughter erupting from her stomach.

“It’s going to make things awkward at the party, Friday,” Y/N said between chuckles, her laughter quieting down.

“Who said you were even invited,” replied Stiles, adjusting his shirt, revealing a tiny patch of skin just above his sweats. Y/N’s eyes flicked over to the screen but the second had passed.

“Funny. Listen, I gotta get some sleep otherwise I’ll pass out in math or something.”

“Yeah, I should probably also go to bed sometime soon.”

“Hopefully before tomorrow morning.”

“Har-har,” said Stiles, smiling at the camera, his chocolatey irises beaming at Y/N.

“Goodnight nerd.”

“Goodnight loser.”

Y/N stuck out her tongue at Stiles before hanging up the call.

That night, as she carefully brushed her teeth and got her clothes ready for the next day, Y/N thought back on her video call with Stiles, a warm smile spreading on her lips.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

The week passed so slowly, each hour lasting an exhausting eternity. School, demanding as ever, while keeping Y/N busy, was the reason why time seemed so lengthy. The nasty side-effect from tantalizing hours is the amount of thinking you do to keep busy. So Y/N did just that. She thought about how much she cared for her group of friends, she thought about the fact that she had never felt like she belonged like she did then.

She thought about how nice it was sitting by the Hale House, enjoying each others’ company, how life is so much lighter when you feel surrounded, how much she had learned about herself after meeting the pack. She thought about the band Stiles and her liked so much. She thought about Star Wars. She thought about the sound her computer made when Stiles sent her a message. She thought of his hair, his moles, his neck. She thought about how thrilling it was when he sat next to her. She thought about how much he mattered in her life, just like the others mattered too.

Y/N did so much thinking that week. But the funny thing is, amor has a way of tricking your mind. Your body believes one thing but your mind has been bewitched, and no amount of thinking you do can remove the fog clouding over your eyes.

When came Friday, Y/N was happy to be done with school, bursting through the doors of the establishment, excited to go home and get ready for Danny’s Blackout Party. She was thrilled about going, however nervous she felt.

She had never been to a party like Danny’s rave before and she had no idea what to expect. But more importantly, she was afraid of crowds. She had tried going out to packed bars with people from her old school, but the chaos and the drunks surrounding her made her feel beyond uneasy.

“Y/N! Wait up!” She heard Allison exclaim, and she slowed down her pace, allowing the brunette to catch up with her.

“Are you excited for tonight?” asked Allison, her light brown eyes gleaming brightly.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be...crazy.”

“You okay?”

Y/N forced a smile and nodded overenthusiastically.

“Yeah! Just tired. It was a long day,” she replied.

“Same here, which is why, we need to let loose tonight! Let’s get ready at Lydia’s, so we can all head over there together.”

“Sure. Quick question though, how did Lydia get us invited in the first place?”

Allison giggled, nodding her head towards Aiden and Ethan standing by their motorcycles.

“How do you think?”

The girl’s laughter echoed through the cool autumn air and disappeared with their cars. It was going to be a night to remember.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

As Y/N and Allison reached Lydia’s house, Y/N couldn’t help but feel more and more anxious, tightly gripping her bag filled with clothes and makeup. The party was starting to worry her.

People had been whispering about it all day back at the high school, talking about the numerous illicit drinks that would be served and the intriguing entertainment. It seemed like the Danny had gone all out for Halloween. Still, not knowing exactly what to expect practically terrified Y/N.

She was outgoing, but big crowds and chaos were things that made panic bubble up inside of her very core, quickening her heartbeat to a frightening extent. She loved dancing and partying, and much like other people her age, she loved a good drink every once in a while, but huge events and big blowouts, she had never been a fan of.

Putting on a brave face, Y/N shut the car door and walked up the stairs to Lydia’s front porch, ringing the doorbell as Allison locked the car. After what seemed like mere seconds, Lydia opened the door, letting the excited girls in.

“Finally. I thought I was going to have to get going without you,” she said, smirking at the pair.

“Y/N couldn’t decide what to wear,” replied Allison, sending Y/N a look that made Lydia scoff.

“Excuse me if I've never been to a neon-themed rave. How am I supposed to know what to wear?”

“Well the name of said rave could be a pretty good indicator,” mocked Lydia as the girls walked up to her bedroom, shutting the door behind them.

“Ali, what are you wearing?”

Allison giggled with a smirk and did a demonstrative twirl, showing off her burgundy flannel shirt and black jeans.

“This!”

Lydia raised her eyebrows at the brunette, a confused expression etched on her face.

“Am I the only one here who understands the term “neon”?” she asked.

Allison shook her head then slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a neon pink bra.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. This stunt was definitely orchestrated for someone special.

“Wow. Isaac will love it.”

“It’s about time you two did something about your situation,” joked Lydia, reaching for an eyelash curler.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Allison with an innocent shrug and a slightly less innocent wink.

“Well now that Allison’s outfit is sorted, it’s your turn, Y/N. Let’s see what’s in this enormous bag of yours.”

The strawberry blonde bent down and grabbed Y/N’s bag before she could say anything, emptying its contents in a flash.

“No, no, definitely not, no…Y/N, why are all of these clothes black?” inquired Lydia, with a look of disgust she had difficulty hiding.

“Lyds, I told you, I don’t know what to wear to a rave.”

“Show me your bra.”

“What?”

“Show me your bra. If it’s the right colour, we can just pair it with some of my clothes.”

Y/N reluctantly removed her white shirt, revealing an electric blue floral lace bra, much to Lydia’s delight. Allison whistled approvingly.

“Okay here’s what we’re gonna do.” Lydia walked over to her closet, carefully studying its contents. Allison and Y/N exchanged a glance as Lydia clapped her hands together.

“This goes with this, and you have to tuck it in, like so,” she said, “okay, try this on. Now.”

Y/N looked down at the outfit her friend had put together.

“Yes ma’am,” she mumbled, her face as white as a sheet.

Y/N walked to the corner of the room as the girls chatted and finished getting ready. Her heart thundered as she passed her neck through the bottom of the sheer black top Lydia had handed to her. Looking herself in the mirror, all she could see was a blushing dishevelled mess. Her bra covered most of her chest, but the curves of her breasts were only slightly hidden by the black mesh material she was wearing.

“Okay, this is okay…” she muttered to herself, trying not to panic.

Bending down, she grabbed the black layered skirt she had brought with her and brought it up to her hips, tucking the top inside. The skirt helped balance out the outfit, but still Y/N wasn’t fully convinced.

“How are you feeling?”

“Kind of nervous honestly.”

“I meant how do you feel about the outfit- but you’re nervous? Why?” asked Lydia, walking over to Y/N in front of the full-length mirror.

“It’s just- I’ve never been to a big party like tonight, much less looking like…this,” Y/N reluctantly replied.

Lydia bit her lip and sucked in some air before smiling widely at Y/N and taking a step forward.

“By “looking like this” I hope you mean by looking incredible. Y/N, look at yourself. You’re tall and confident, the outfit looks amazing on you. Your look is not the problem,” she said, gently.

“Then what is?”

“You tell us,” replied Allison, walking over to the girls by the mirror.

Y/N exhaled deeply and turned around to face her friends.

“I hate crowds. I love partying don’t get me wrong, I just- I get really really panicky around big crowds of people. The noise, the warmth, all of it, just terrifies me. I’m worried that I’ll hate it and freak out or something. I’m sorry, I probably should have said something before.”

As soon as the daunting words had slipped through her lips, Y/N felt a weight lift from her weary shoulders, a wave of relief passing over her entire body.

“Hey, it’s okay. Everyone’s got something they’re uncomfortable with. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” said Allison, sweetly.

“I know, it’s not that I’m ashamed, I just- didn’t wanna be a downer. I really am excited for tonight! I’m just nervous.”

Lydia placed her hands on Y/N’s shoulders and smiled brightly.

“Look, you’re gorgeous right now. Even without my help, you’re gorgeous. And tonight, we’ll be around the whole time. If you feel freaked out or you start to panic, we’ll go outside and get some fresh air. We don’t mind.”

“Exactly, we’re your friends. You know you can depend on us on occasion,” Allison joked and Y/N laughed, shaking her head timidly.

“Seriously, Y/N, we’re gonna have a ton of fun tonight. And if you need anything, whatsoever, we’re both here,” added Lydia.

Y/N’s heart swelled and she felt her eyes filling slowly. Blinking the impending tears away, she smiled widely, her radiant eyes following suite.

“Thank you, both of you. You’re the best.”

“Agreed. Now, that’s sorted. Are you comfortable with the outfit?” asked Lydia.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, analyzing every detail of her figure, taking in how “out there” the outfit was. After a few seconds, she nodded to herself and smiled.

“You know what? You only live once.”

Allison giggled and rested her arms on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Tonight is going to be amazing!”

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

As Lydia’s car pulled into the parking lot in front of the venue - a large concrete building comparable to a construction site - Y/N sent a text to her friend.

Y/N: we just got to danny’s party

Y/N: u guys here?

The girls looked up at the windows on the top level, the neon lights shining through catching their attention, the music already reaching their ears.

The group excitedly entered the building, Y/N’s heart thundering against her ribcage. Allison noticed the worried look on her friend’s face and she slipped her hand in hers, sending her a warm smile. Y/N took a deep breath, and the three beautiful girls went into the otherwise empty elevator. On the way up, Y/N’s phone vibrated against her palm and she looked down at the screen.

Stiles: we aren’t there yet

Stiles: Scott needed to go get something

Y/N’s heart couldn’t help but sink a little. She had hoped the boys were going to be there already, though why, she couldn’t say. Her phone interrupted her thoughts again.

Scott: by smth, Stiles means someone

Scott: and by someone, he means Kira

Scott: also we’re late because of the jeep

Scott: ;)

Y/N chuckled and texted him back, Lydia and Allison sharing an inquisitive look.

Y/N: figures :))

“Who is that?” asked Allison as the elevator doors opened.

Y/N winced slightly and turned to Allison.

“It’s the boys. Scott was just telling me they picked up Kira…”

“Oh.”

Lydia looked from Allison to Y/N, and back, the awkwardness beyond tangible.

“Are you okay?” asked Y/N, worried that the news had killed the mood.

“Honestly? I don’t love the idea of partying with my ex and his new girlfriend, but we broke up three months ago. We’ve both moved on. Besides, I really like Isaac. I’m not gonna let this ruin my evening,” Allison answered, a soft smile on her lips.

“Allison has Isaac, Scott has Kira, Stiles- well I don’t know about Stiles. That leaves you and me, Y/N. You can help me avoid Aiden tonight,” said Lydia, straightening her dress.

“Aiden, as in, the guy you hooked up with who just so happens to be the guy who invited you to this rave?”

“Precisely.” Lydia walked away hurriedly, and the girls laughed, entering the venue.

The grey concrete in the hall was uncharacteristically bland compared to the other-worldly burst of colours inside of the venue. Neon blue, pink, orange, yellow, and green exploding in every direction, paired with blaring purple lights attached to the concrete beams above the dancefloor where what looked like at least 70 people were jumping up and down to the beat of Losing It by FISHER. Strands of white UV tubes hanging from the ceiling all around the dancefloor lit up every white item of clothing in the room, turning the pure colour into a bright purple.

This giant nebula of chaos and colour made Y/N’s blood pump ten times faster throughout her body. That or the the bass blasting through the giant speakers by the DJ. Either way, the thrill of it made Y/N shiver, her whole body completely frozen in place.

“This is crazy!” Allison gasped.

“Danny really went all out,” said Lydia, staring at the dancing figures in the center of the room.

Y/N’s phone buzzing woke her from her trance and she read the text.

Stiles: be there in about 20 minutes

Stiles: can’t wait to embarrass you on the dancefloor

Y/N: oof

“Let’s go get a drink,” Lydia urged, walking over to the large snack table with numerous bottles. Y/N read the labels and nodded, impressed by the wide range of drinks.

“Wow. Jack Daniels, vodka, a shitton of beer, wine coolers, rum, Jagermeister…Danny really did go all out.”

“Pass me a cup,” said Allison.

As the girls filled their glasses, Lydia eyed Y/N’s cup.

“Y/N, are you sure you want to start with a triple shot of vodka?”

“Yeah, it’s fine!” Y/N exclaimed, downing the drink before anyone could stop her and gasping as the strong liquid burned its way down her throat.

“Ohkay, take it easy,” said Allison, shooting a worried glance at Lydia.

“I’ve got it under control,” replied Y/N as she refilled her cup.

“Let’s go dance!”

Allison dragged the girls away from the table, walking over to the dancefloor. Y/N downed her second drink and nodded wearily.

“Yesss, let’s do this!”

The looming herd of party-goers, intimidating as it was, seemed a little less daunting now that Y/N was actually at the party.

“How bad could it be?” she thought to herself before treading through the mass, occasionally bumping against people energetically throwing their limbs around.

In the middle of the chaos, Allison stopped and started moving her hips in sync with the song, Lydia quickly following suit. Y/N bobbed her head along to the beat of the bass, her arms swinging awkwardly on either side of her body. Allison laughed and grabbed her friend’s arms forcing the movement to flow through Y/N’s limbs. Lydia busted up and down, moving her waist so naturally it seemed like she had been born for this very moment.

Closing her eyes, Y/N tried to focus on the music vibrating throughout her body, the memory of the colours surrounding her floating behind her eyelids. Allison sang along with the lyrics of the current song, shouting out the words as she moved from side to side. Y/N slowly started to lose herself to the music, letting go of her inhibitions, forgetting the world around her.

When the beat changed, her feet jumped up and down, as if they had a mind of their own. Her head felt heavy yet no thoughts crossed her mind. The music had gotten rid of all concentration, the only thing left was the bass flowing through her veins, making her entire body pulsate to the beat.

Beads of sweat trickled down Y/N’s neck as she kept dancing, her feet starting to ache with every jump. It had only been about fifteen minutes, but to the dancers, it seemed like a wonderful eternity. Finally, Lydia tapped on Y/N’s shoulder and shouted by her ear.

“Let’s do some body painting!”

Y/N nodded profusely, a wide smile on her lips.

“Ali went to dance with Isaac!” Lydia shouted as the pair pushed through the crowd.

“Where’s the paint?” shouted Y/N, trying to hear her own voice over the music and failing miserably.

“Over there!”

A tall blonde boy holding brushes with purple and pink tips smiled as the girls reached him, his charismatic grin turning Y/N’s cheeks bright red.

“What can I do for you ladies?” he asked, his pearly white teeth a bright purple as his grin widened.

“My friend over here needs a lot of paint. Emphasis on lot,”Lydia insisted.

Y/N shook her head, giggling stupidly.

“Not too much paint,” she said warmly.

The boy smiled with a wink.

“Let me worry about that.”

Y/N removed her mesh top, holding it with her right hand, patiently waiting for the boy to start painting across her chest and back. She shivered as she felt the cool wet tip of the brush meet her sweaty skin, sliding a few inches down, a thick stripe of paint spreading across her back. Y/N giggled at the cold feeling, the alcohol in her system reaching her head. She closed her eyes and bent her neck to the side as the boy continued his line up to her collarbone.

“What’s your name?” she heard him ask.

“What’s yours?” she chose to answer, smiling wickedly.

She heard him laugh as he started painting little dots up her back.

“Jeremy.”

“Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”

“You know most girls like a proper introduction before getting this close,” he said over the pulsating music, his breath fanning over Y/N’s neck as he painted small strokes down her shoulder. Y/N grinned mischievously.

“I’m not like most girls,” she teased as she turned to face him.

“No, I guess you’re not,” the boy replied, his eyes darting towards her lips and back up.

“I’m almost done with your body- I mean with the paint,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. Y/N giggled and stepped closer.

“I’m all yours…” she replied.

Jeremy’s deep blue eyes lingered on hers before focusing on her chest. Y/N thanked the universe that he wasn’t looking straight at her, otherwise he would have seen her cheeks fill with red for the second time. He delicately placed pink and orange dots up and down her chest, careful as to not stain her bra and she watched him, observing his concentration with admiration. Finally, he looked up, smiling at her.

“My masterpiece is done,” he declared, placing the paintbrush on the body paint stand.

Jeremy reached for a mirror and handed it to her. She admired the strands and dots painted across her body in a chaotic waltz, the hot purple and pink clashing against her skin. Looking up at him, she grinned widely.

“You’re talented,” she said.

“It’s easier when you have such a good canvas to work on…” he replied, sending her a look hot enough to melt her.

Momentarily remembering the outside world, she looked around and quickly realized Lydia wasn’t there anymore, probably off dancing or looking for Allison. Y/N turned back to Jeremy.

“I’m sorry, I should probably go check on my friends…” she said, biting her lip as she slipped her mesh shirt back on.

“Of course. Maybe later, we’ll bump into each other on the dance floor?” he replied, a nervous smile etched on his lips.

“Yeah, maybe.”

Y/N winked at him and walked away, trying her best to keep her cool.

“Well that was something.” She thought to herself, a wide grin planted on her face.

Looking around, she couldn’t find either of her friends, nor could she find Isaac. Slightly disappointed, Y/N walked over to the table and poured some vodka in an unused cup before knocking her head back, letting the burning liquid run down her throat.

She eyed the dancefloor and thought back on her previous conversation with Jeremy. She was beyond nervous. She’d never actually kissed a boy before. The opportunity just hadn’t ever presented itself. But now that she was here, feeling tipsy as ever, a few feet away from the cutest boy at the party, she couldn’t help but think, why not?

Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt and downing her fourth - albeit, strong - drink of the night, she nodded to herself and walked over to the dancefloor.

As Five Hours blasted through the speakers, Y/N pushed her way through the sweaty crowd once again, making her way to the center of the dancefloor. Ignoring the world surrounding her, she closed her eyes and gave in to the music, feeling every beat of the song pulsate throughout her entire body.

Colours, flashing lights, the feeling of people’s skin against hers, her head spinning and swaying in every direction, it made her feel alive. As the last drop of the song reached its peak, Y/N jumped with the crowd, knocking her body against complete strangers, feeling the warm and sticky air fill her lungs with every breath.

The song Too Much by Curbi started to play and Y/N felt someone’s body against hers. Closing her eyes, she turned around and felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist. She sighed lightly, enjoying the feeling of her skin against the boy’s. His fingers treaded down her back, firmly settling just above her ass, holding her steady in a sea of bustling bodies.

She danced against him, turning around again, her back facing his front. Moving against his body, she felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her in. His hot breath fanned over her neck and she moaned slightly, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

Suddenly, time seemed to stand still when his lips lightly touched her warm skin. Y/N inhaled sharply, her eyes still shut. The only thing she could hear now was the sound of her heartbeat furiously thundering against her ribcage. Slowly caressing the boy’s arm, she allowed further access to her neckline, moaning loudly as she felt his feverish lips plant warm kisses on her neck, inching higher and higher. Y/N’s hands reached for his and she tugged them closer to her body, her hips still moving against him. His lips danced furiously across her neck, leaving dangerously beautiful marks on her skin.

The music seemed only to heighten her senses. Her legs almost gave out when she heard the boy groan lightly against her ear, her response, a small whine at the loss of contact with his lips. She turned around and tried to open her eyes, the bright lights bursting through the gap in her eyelids. Squinting at his face, trying as hard as possible not to lose herself to the music again, Y/N’s eyes caught a glimpse of the boy’s face.

Bright pink dashes stained his cupid’s bow and the right corner of his bottom lip, the paint from her neck helpless in the face of a passion like this one. Y/N’s eyes scanned the rest of his face and widened slightly when they met amber irises, warm and inviting and so familiar. Her fingers threaded through his damp dark brown hair, her brain trying to comprehend what was about to happen.

His chocolatey eyes looked deep into hers and he licked his lips slowly, the world around them fading. Y/N felt her vision blur as she inched closer to him, her nose picking up the scent of old leather and pine trees and rain. His lips lingered over hers and she felt a chill as her name echoed through the air.

“Y/N…”.

Their lips connected in a frenzied blur, sending sparks of pleasure throughout Y/N’s entire body and the chaos surrounding the pair completely swallowed them. His teeth slightly bit her bottom lip and she deepened the kiss, ardently giving in to his deliciously demanding mouth. Unable to control her body, she steadied herself against him, tugging at his shirt with one hand, the other cupping his face as he sucked on her delectable lips.

Their bodies so unbelievably close disappeared in the crowd of dancers, the whole world somehow a thousand miles away.

Time, a forgotten concept.

A/N: I seriously hope u enjoyed this!! if u did please reblog :)) (would be super helpful especially with tumblr acting up w the tags and all that) <3 part 2 coming soon!!

if you would like to be added to this series’ taglist, please send me an ask :)

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randomoranges · 3 years

Text

so this is the 3rd lyric from the song, but i’m trying to keep up with the fic-thing-whatever and ill get to the other parts later. the momentum is going and im trying to match it and such

lamao this reminds me of 2010 and when i wrote a chapter of a fic to match all of canadas medals. good times. that was - hard and a rush

also i made this into snippets of moments in the same day. to - make it shorter. even though it turned into an 8 page tiny monster lamao.

ANYWAYS

DO YOU LIKE SPORTS. DO YOU LIKE FEELS. DO YOU LIKE NEUROTIC SPORTS SUPERSTITIONS

well, you will be served

Rouge comme le sang qui nous coule à travers

July 5th 2021

When Edward woke up that morning, he expected to find Étienne curled up by his side and to splurge and indulge in some good morning cuddles. Instead, the spot besides him was empty and cold. He sighed to himself and after waiting for a bit, in case his boyfriend made a reappearance, he shuffled his way to the kitchen, where he might find him.

Truth to form, Étienne was there, already more or less dressed, drinking what couldn’t possibly be his first cup of coffee in the morning out of one of many Habs cups Edward had spotted in the last twenty or so hours.

“Morning!” Étienne sounded a tad too cheerful, but Edward ignored it and made his way to his boyfriend where he could properly snuggle and feel that blessed beard against his skin for a moment. Thankfully, Étienne was never one to deny any sort of physical touch and wrapped his arms around him, before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

There was a reason as to why Edward had chosen this particular time to visit. For starters, he absolutely did not want to miss out on the beard and with the playoffs wrapping up shortly, he knew that his time was counted. On top of that, Edward knew how the people of Montréal took to the Habs losing this far into the playoff run and the down Étienne would feel if that happened.

It wasn’t that Étienne’s mood solely depended and fluctuated because of the hockey, but with so many people being emotionally vested in the team, their winning or losing would ultimately have an impact on Étienne. Now if they won, well, Edward wanted to live vicariously through it. Plus, there was something quite wonderful in an Étienne who was that jubilant and ecstatic. However, if the Habs lost, Edward wanted to be there for emotional support and also to make sure that the slump wouldn’t eventually tie in with one of Étienne’s own spectacular, unrelated to hockey, depressive episodes.

“Plans for the day?” He asked, perfectly comfortable in the crook of Étienne’s neck.

“Well, funny you should ask,” Étienne started and Edward had visions of intense biking up the mountain in the oppressive humidity or something as ridiculously insane, “I – have an errand to run, but I don’t want to impose on you.” For some reason, Étienne sounded a little nervous about this errand and Edward didn’t understand why.

“So? Go run your errand. I can come with you if you need help.” So long as it didn’t involve standing in the scorching heat, he was fine.

“No, no it’s fine! I appreciate you wanting to help – but, I don’t want to bother you, really.”

Edward stepped back and took a good look at his boyfriend’s face. Something was up.

It took him a moment, but then it clicked.

It had to be one of his ridiculous pre-game rituals he had completely forgotten about. He almost groaned. Étienne was anal about his rituals to bring the Habs good luck. Downright neurotic, really and Edward had been victim to many séances of Étienne doing the most ridiculous of things that he swore would help his team win. (To be honest, Edward did wonder, deep down, if maybe Étienne wasn’t on to something, considering the fact that the Habs had won 24 cups in their history, but he wasn’t about to say any of that out loud.)

“Do I want to know what crazy task you’re going to do?” He asked.

Étienne gave him another nervous smile and tugged on his beard, “It’s not that crazy, really...” He murmured and Edward feared for the worst.

“What is it this time? Putting your left sock on before you’re right one? Talking to your posters? Building a puck pyramid? Prepare a specific meal?”

“Please, that was last night and this morning. I need to go to the Oratory.”

Edward’s face blanched. Of course Étienne would go to the Oratory. He had forgotten all about it.

“You’re kidding.”

Étienne scoffed, “I am not kidding, Édouard. This is very serious. I need to make my pilgrimage to the Oratory, climb the steps on my knees and then light up a candle for the Habs’ victory tonight.”

Edward remained silent. He knew better than to argue or say anything about it. Étienne took his rituals very seriously.

“My issue is that you flew all the way to spend time with me and I don’t want you to think I’m just abandoning you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Edward said with a chuckle, as he finally decided to grab a mug that didn’t have a Habs banner, a players number or Youppi’s face on it, and poured himself some coffee, “You go do whatever it is you need to do and I’ll acquaint myself with your glorious pool.”

“Are you sure?” Étienne twirled the hem of his shirt around his thumb and followed after Edward when he headed for the table.

“More than sure. I don’t want to be held responsible for your team losing if you don’t complete your set of rituals. Plus, I’ll be fine here and I can spend more time with Mercury.”

“Sure?” Étienne asked again.

“Yes. I promise.” It wasn’t as if Étienne would be out for the entire day anyways.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!” Étienne was careful not to topple the coffee out of his hands, but still wrapped Edward in a tight hug.

In all honesty, Edward was a little overwhelmed to be sitting in the Bell Centre. There were so many people and so many lights that it was quite dizzying. After over a year of leading a quiet life at home, this felt like too much too soon, but at the same time, the energy was electrifying.

“Can you believe that the last time I was here for a final, you were also here?” Étienne said excitedly as they settled into their seats. It was crazy to think that Étienne looked tame in comparison to some other fans in the arena, even if he was wearing one of his many Habs jerseys, his Habs pants, his Habs shoes and most likely other articles of clothing he couldn’t see.

“Really?” Edward thought about it for a moment, “Shit, you’re right – so does that make me a lucky charm?” He joked, “Do you need to rub my head for good luck?” He laughed, but then when he saw the serious look on his boyfriend’s face he stopped. Étienne looked at him and seemed to be debating this for a moment. He had definitely shot himself in the foot with that idea.

“Better off not taking any chances,” Étienne said as he rubbed Edward’s head for good measure, much to Edward’s chagrin.

“Are you happy now?” He asked, when Étienne was done.

“Maybe. I would’ve been happier if you would have let me dress you for the occasion. You’ve got to be the only person here who’s not wearing something Habs on them.” He pouted.

Étienne had offered to lend him anything from a tank top to a signed jersey, with everything in between, but Edward had refused. For as much as he enjoyed being at the arena, there were still team loyalties he had to respect and that would be going too far.

“No I’m not, look, there’s a few people wearing Tampa jerseys.” He pointed out.

Étienne didn’t seem to think he was very funny, “That’s not the point, Édouard!”

“Fine, but look, I wore a white shirt – this is as far as I’ll go.” It was a neutral colour and – well, both of their teams had white somewhere in their jerseys.

“Tampa is playing in white.”

There was no winning this one.

“My jeans are blue and my blood is red?” He tried and he only got a death glare in response.

The one thing Edward had always loved about watching a game with Étienne, regardless of whether it was a season or playoff game, was that Étienne knew a lot about hockey – more precisely the Habs and he loved to share his knowledge – especially when he was stressed. (Not that Étienne ever admitted to being stressed about a game.) It was endearing the way he would blabber on and all Edward had to do was listen.

“This has been such a crazy playoff run,” He started, “Like – no one expected them to come this far and it’s been such a boost to the morale of the city. For as much as hockey has its issues, it also brings people together, and I wish there was more of that. Walking around the city these past few weeks has been something else. You meet people and hear their stories – about how they got into the game – where they’re coming from, who they’re here with. It’s beautiful. Kids who are living their first real playoff run. Older people who remember 93, 86 and the runs in the 60s and 70s. It’s been surreal! I’m just – I love these people – my people and the way they’ve just run with this as well. Hoisting orange cones as Cups and living the magic.”

“I know it might end tonight, but whatever happens – it’s been such a great run. I mean, obviously, it would be really great not to get swept. That would just – no. Do you know that the last time the Habs were swept in the final was in 1952? I don’t think the people would be able to handle that. You don’t make it to the final to get swept. Tampa can go and win at home, but to be swept?! No thanks.”

Edward knew all too well about being swept. At least the Habs had – avenged the Oilers. He supposed.

“And, also, on that note, do you know that the Habs only ever lost the cup once at home?”

“Did they now?” Out of their twenty-four that was quite the feat, really.

“Yes! And you’ll never believe what team did it!”

For some reason, Edward felt like he did know, yet the answer escaped him at the moment.

“The friggin Flames! I had to sit and watch Calvin’s stupid face light up like a goddamned Christmas tree when they won. I never thought I was going to live that one down!”

Now he remembered.

To be honest, he’d tried to forget.

It had been the most awkward of times, really.

For starters, Étienne had invited him to come watch the game with him. He’d agreed. If it meant spending more time with Étienne, he would’ve gone anywhere. Had gone to many places.

He’d just – forgotten one minor detail.

Calvin.

This was the second time, really, that the Habs and the Flames had met for the final. The first time had been awkward as well. In its own way. It wasn’t even with the fact that he was – involved with Étienne and Calvin was his friend and could not know about his involvement with Étienne.

It had – more to do with the fact that – the Flames had – impeded Gretzky and the Oilers from getting their third cup. He’d been – resentful to say the least.

Yet, Étienne had hesitated going out to Calgary to see them team, but then Calvin had asked him to convince Étienne to go. As a power move? To show off? He’d never bothered finding out. But, Edward had spun the idea to Étienne, telling him that wouldn’t it be nice to see the Habs extinguish the insufferable Flames at home?

Étienne had agreed.

They’d gone.

The Habs had won.

And Calvin – hadn’t even really cared.

His victory had been in beating the Oilers.

The bastard.

1989, however...

Shortly after Étienne had invited him, Calvin had reached out, saying that wouldn’t it be nice to go out and watch the game in Montreal. He had seats with the execs in their special section and they could make a whole trip out of it! Heck, the Flames might even win the cup! And – wouldn’t that be something! The Cup back in Alberta!

It had been very hard for Edward to tell Calvin that he already had Other Plans. Yet, without missing a beat, Calvin had told him that he should totally tell Étienne to come watch with them and that Edward didn’t need to worry about lodging, as they could share the hotel suite together.

He forgot exactly what he’d ended up telling both Calvin and Étienne, but somehow or other, the three of them had found themselves sitting in Calvin’s section, while Étienne had grumbled all along about having better seats than whatever this garbage was.

It only went from bad to worse as the Flames won and Calvin all but gloated, while Étienne threatened to set the city on fire. It wasn’t that Étienne had accused him of throwing him off, but Étienne had reminded him, more than once, that clearly, because he hadn’t been able to sit at his usual seat, the Habs had lost.

(Again, Étienne was anal about his superstitions and rituals.)

“Well, here’s hoping they don’t lose at home and get swept. Good vibes only,” Edward told his boyfriend before Étienne could get in a tizzy.

“Yes, you’re right. Anyways, it’s sort of thanks to the before last game against the Oilers we’re here anyways. Habs needed one point to assure their spot and that tie brought them to the playoffs, even if they lost in overtime. It made sure the Flames couldn’t sneak in, so, thanks? I guess?”

Edward chuckled remembering that particular video call.

“See, I told you, good luck charm.”

For good measure, Étienne rubbed his head again.

It was hard not to get wrapped up in the game, regardless of who was playing, even if it wasn’t his team. This was a playoff final game and both teams were trying their best to win. Even though the first ten minutes or so made it seem as though Tampa was going to finish this off without mercy, the Habs, somehow, managed to take the lead twice. Étienne kept on saying that some of the ghosts had clearly finally arrived and that some miracle had been cast on them by the three legends watching from the box.

Regardless of what it was that had brought the score to 2-2 with few minutes left, Étienne was clutching his arm like a lifeline and Edward was convinced there would be marks there when his boyfriend would let go.

“Please, please, please, please, PLEASE,” He chanted as the puck went one way and then the other. He clutched Edward’s arm even tighter whenever Tampa got close to scoring and whenever the Habs missed a shot.

It finally seemed as though the Cinderella run would come to the end with that last double penalty, which continued in over-time, yet somehow or other, the Habs managed to kill it and then, by another miracle, or maybe a clever game of pass-the-puck, managed to score in over-time.

Considering the fact that there were only three-thousand-five-hundred people in the Bell Centre, the resulting collective scream made it feel as though the place was packed to the brims.

Edward got swept up in the momentum of it all and found himself standing with all the other Habs fanatics, yelling and screaming.

When he turned to look at Étienne, his boyfriend looked jubilant and ecstatic. It was such a good look on him and it made Edward’s insides warm at the sight. Étienne deserved to feel this happy all the time, really. If there were a few tears at the corner of Étienne’s eyes, it only made him look lovelier and Edward did his best to school his face in the most platonic of smiles.

“They live!” Étienne yelled over the continued shouting, “They did it!” He said, even giddier as he kept on jumping up and down, waving his playoff flag with all the other people in the Bell Centre.

It was magical, really – living a playoff run like this one. He was glad he could be part of it – somehow, even if it was only for the last stretch of it.

“You know, no matter what happens next, I’m at peace. They fought and they’ve kept fighting from day one and – of course I want them to win. God, I want it so bad, but I’m just – really glad they brought it to game 5. And – I like to believe that – that they’ll be back. For game six. I’m just – I’m happy.” Étienne said, voice thick with emotions as they finally managed to step out of the Bell Centre. Some of the earlier euphoria and adrenaline had tempered down and Étienne was a little calmer by now.

“If any team can do it at this point, it’s certainly yours.”

Étienne beamed at him as they walked down the street, away from the crowds still chanting and yelling and celebrating, off the beaten path for a longer way home, if only for some fresh air and a quieter moment to re-center themselves.

“Yeah – you’re right,” He trailed off with a small smile. Étienne made to grab his hand, but knowing that there were still so many people out, he let their fingers brush against each other instead. “Everyone’s so happy – so proud of the city... I hope the feeling lasts.”

Edward made a quick grab for his hand and gave it a squeeze, before letting go. He wanted to tell him that the hockey didn’t matter. That this city was more than just a glorious hockey history. That he was proud of him. Of what he’d done. Everything he’d worked for outside of hockey. For himself. For the city as well. And that he had more worth than he realised. To him. To others. But – that was a talk for later. Right now, it was time to enjoy the moment – bask in it. Celebrate the victory.

“Let’s go home, yeah? I want to celebrate with you.”

Edward nodded and kept step with him as they made their way back to Étienne’s place, where once safely behind closed doors, they could properly celebrate together.

FIN

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #projocanondoko #fic #shoutout to allbeendonebefore for giving me intel on how 86 and 89 woulda played out lamao #the things u realise yrs later once u have a stronger timeline ha ha ha ha

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junetuesday · 4 years

Text

sweetener - [twelve]

Tastes of Freedom

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader - uni AU

Word Count: 5913

Warnings: studying, exams, fluff, smut, food mentions

A/N: only a 7 week break between updates this time!! getting better!! maybe?? idk im sorry lmao. as always pls pls let me know what you think i literally live for comments and feedback even if its just a keysmash and some emojis!!

Add yourself to my taglist(s)

Updates: listen i am not in control of this don’t ask me

This is what happens when i’m left unsupervised

Tom laughed under his breath as he read the caption of your Snapchat - a picture of a pile of flashcards on your bed, a cup of tea in your hand in the bottom right corner of the image. He just replied with an eye roll emoji as he tossed his bag into the passenger seat of his car, setting his phone down on top of it before he started to drive home.

He’d gone to the gym in an effort to take his mind off revision, but he’d had to put his phone on airplane mode because he kept stopping to text you and not actually doing anything. Which, normally, he wouldn’t have minded, but he’d driven all the way there so it seemed a bit pointless if he was just going to go in, text while walking on the treadmill, and then go home. And besides, he hadn’t been exercising a lot lately, besides a run or two with Tessa over Christmas, and rugby training would be starting back up again soon so he figured he had better get back to it. Plus, he did actually enjoy it; it made him feel good about himself, stronger, more refreshed - physically and mentally, which was something he definitely needed after all this studying.

So, once he’d actually gotten into it he’d had a good workout, and was feeling pretty good. His first exam on Monday had gone well, and he only had one more to do on Friday morning. You were also halfway through, having sat your first paper that afternoon. You were supposed to be taking the evening off to give your brain a break before your next and final exam on Friday, just giving yourself a rest really. It didn’t seem to be going that well though, judging by the texts you’d been sending wondering if you shouldn’t just go over some flashcards or just read over your notes or just something, and without Tom replying telling you to just chill out you’d apparently decided to go with flashcards. Which was fine, if that was what you wanted to do, but you’d said quite a few times that you were going to take the evening after your first exam off so you didn’t overload your brain, so it seemed to Tom like studying flashcards wasn’t really how you wanted to spend your evening.

The thought played on his mind as he drove off campus, and he wondered if maybe your message was your way of asking for supervision. He could do that - plus, the protein shake he was drinking wasn’t really cutting it in terms of satiating his appetite, so perhaps he could convince you to get a takeaway or something. So, after a quick check in the mirror to see how sweaty he looked - not too bad, considering - he drove to your house instead of his own.

It occurred to him as he was hovering outside to your front door (after spraying himself liberally with the deodorant he kept in his gym bag) that your bedroom was on the top floor, and judging by your Snapchat that’s where you were, so it was unlikely that you would be the one to answer. He debated whether to text you and say he was outside, but it was too late for that now, he’d already knocked, so all he could do was hope that whichever one of your housemates answered would recognise him. If they didn’t, what would he say? He took another big gulp of his protein shake as he waited - just for something to do more than anything - swallowing harshly when the door swung open.

Thankfully, it was Liv who answered - and he knew she would recognise him, seeing as she was always in his house. Not that he talked to her very much, but he saw her often enough when they crossed paths on the way to/from the bathroom. She looked a bit more… frazzled than she normally did though, her hair escaping from a messy bun that had migrated from the top of her head to somewhere near her ear, and an enormous fluffy dressing gown engulfing her entire body.

“Oh hey,” she smiled tiredly, stepping back to let him in. “She’s upstairs.”

“Thanks,” Tom murmured, trying not to hit her with his gym bag as he squeezed past her into the hallway.

Liv just nodded in reply before going back into the living room, and Tom thought he heard her say his name just before the door swung shut behind her. As he made his way up the stairs to your room, his calves beginning to burn by the time he reached the second flight, he wondered why you complained about his house being so cold - yours was just as bad. No wonder you wanted to steal his hoodies.

Tom knocked on your bedroom door once he reached the top floor, pushing it open after you answered with a rather distracted sounding ‘ yeah?’. He was greeted by the pleasant, if a little overwhelming, scent of vanilla coming from the candle burning on your bedside table. Your room was also considerably warmer than it was out on the stairs, he noted as he entered the room, so maybe he took back his previous comment.

You were sitting cross-legged on your bed, leaning back against the headboard and looking down at the cards in your hands, not bothering to look up to see who was coming into your room.

“Hey…”

Your head jerked up at the sound of Tom’s voice, your emotions showing plainly on your face - confusion, then recognition, then confusion again. You smiled as you sat up straighter, lowering the cards in your hands onto the bed.

“Hello?” you watched him as he dropped his bag at the foot of your bed and shut the door behind him. “You...what?”

Tom smiled as he sat down on the edge of your bed beside you. You looked very cute, wearing a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt with a pair of fluffy socks on your feet, and he would very much like to kiss you. Were you at that stage, he wondered? A hello-kiss stage? When he sat down you had sort of leaned towards him, so he took that as an opening.

“Thought I’d come and supervise you,” he twisted to face you more as he spoke, leaning across your crossed legs.

“Oh,” you smiled against his lips before they met yours softly. “Okay. Hi.”

“Hey,” Tom murmured between kisses, pulling back after the third (or maybe it was the fourth, he wasn’t counting). “How’s your night off going, then?”

You both looked down at the pile of flashcards between you as you sighed.

“It was going okay -” You broke off when Tom looked at you skeptically “- it was! But Liv and Mads started revising in the living room ‘cause they’ve got an exam tomorrow and it was stressing me out so I came up here to try and chill…”

You gestured to the candle on the cabinet and your laptop beside you on the bed, the screen dimmed on the Netflix homescreen, sighing. “...and then, I dunno, I just keep thinking how annoyed I’ll be if like, something comes up and it’s like ‘oh I was gonna look over that but I couldn’t be arsed so I didn’t’, you know?”

He did know, sort of anyway, so he nodded.

“Makes sense.”

“I’ve still got all day tomorrow and Thursday though, so like I want to take tonight to do nothing, but I got bored and…” you trailed off, lifting up a flashcard in lieu of finishing your sentence.

“I see,” Tom nodded. “Well, do you wanna watch a movie or something? Or I can go - sorry I should have asked before coming over-”

“No!” you reached out and put your hand on his knee, stopping him from going anywhere (not that he was really that set on leaving anyway). “No, you’re fine - it’s fine. Stay.”

“You sure?”

“Mmhmm, yeah. Movie sounds good. Though, actually…”

Tom raised an eyebrow at you questioningly, humming for you to continue.

“Would you mind testing me on some stuff first?”

“Sure - these?”

You nodded when Tom gestured to the cards scattered across the bed, so he gathered them up into a pile while kicking off his trainers.

“You’re not allowed to laugh if I pronounce stuff wrong,” he warned, lying back on the bed and holding the cards above his head.

“I promise.”

You ended up going through pretty much all of your cards - or at least all the ones you had out, Tom wouldn’t have been surprised if you had more stacks elsewhere - and you knew everything on them except for a few tiny little details, so why you were even stressing was beyond him. You were all huffy and frowny about anything you didn’t get, which was cute, reaching out to take the card from him to read it over before asking him to put it to the back of the pile to come back to at the end. After a little while you lay down too, your head resting on his stomach and your feet propped up on your pillows, which meant he could peek under the cards at you when you scrunched up your face while you thought about his questions, staring at the sloping ceiling like it held the answers. It wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind for coming over, but it was nice to spend time with you all the same - especially having you lying on him like this. The only trouble was he was getting hungrier and hungrier, and his stomach was not being quiet about it.

“Yep, I think you got it all - sorry,” he groaned, cringing when his tummy rumbled for the third time in the time it took to go through your last two flashcards.

“S’okay,” you looked up at him as you spoke, laughing softly. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, sorry, haven’t eaten yet.”

“Me neither,” you shook your head, yawning as you sat up. “Can’t be arsed making anything though.”

Tom sat up too, propping himself up on his elbows and setting your cards down on the bed.

“Wanna get a takeaway?”

You looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes practically shining as you grinned.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes please,” you nodded enthusiastically, until your eyes went wide and you gasped. “Oooh or we could go to McDonalds?”

“Drive through?”

“Obviously.”

Tom considered your proposal for approximately 0.003 seconds before he nodded back, sitting up. “Sounds good to me.”

With that you got up and grabbed a familiar looking hoodie off the back of your chair and pulled it on, shoving your phone and purse into the pocket. You tried to put a pair of trainers on while Tom did the same, but unfortunately they didn’t fit over your fluffy socks, so you were forced to change to a much less cosy pair of regular trainer socks, and less than five minutes later you were in the car on the way to 24 hour McDonalds (after running back up the stairs to blow out your candle).

You talked the whole way there, pausing only to order and pay (Tom tried to pay but you leant over and tapped your card against the reader before he had a chance). You talked while you waited for your order, you talked while you parked up in the almost empty car park (10:30pm on a Tuesday was clearly not their prime time), you talked while you ate - about exams, about your night out plans for Refreshers week next week, about Tessa (Tom’s personal favourite subject), about anything and nothing and everything in between. You talked on the way home (after a second trip through the drive through because Liv texted you while you were eating so you had to get a McFlurry and a Happy Meal for her and Madison), until you were parked up outside your house and Tom had to regretfully decline your invitation to come back in. He wanted to, he really did, but he knew he’d fall asleep and he had work in the morning - he’d managed to get most of his shifts covered to give himself time for exams and hangovers over this week and next, except this one - so he was forced to bid you goodnight after a goodbye kiss (or five or six goodbye kisses) in his car.

The next two days went by in a flurry of cramming and stressing, but before long Friday afternoon rolled around, bringing with it the sweet relief of freedom - for both you and Tom. Exams done and dusted, gone in a matter of hours after weeks of work, the plan going forwards for this: chill, go for a celebratory Nandos, possibly nap (definitely nap), then get ready and go out to the End of Exams party at the SU. Step one (‘Chill’) was well underway - for Tom, at least, who was lounging quite comfortably on your bed while you shoved your revision notes into boxes and files so you never had to look at them again.

“My back is killing me,” you groaned, sitting up straighter in your desk chair and rolling your shoulders back until they clicked. “Might go for a massage as post-exam treat.”

“I could give you a back massage?”

You laughed but didn’t reply, just turned back to what you were doing at your desk.

“No seriously,” Tom continued, looking up from where he was scrolling aimlessly through Instagram on his phone. “If you want - I mean I’m not a professional but I’ll give it a go.”

You laughed again, but spun your chair around to face him this time. “Okay, sure.”

Tom moved to let you sit down on the edge of the bed, setting his phone aside and kneeling behind you once you were settled. He wasn’t really sure what he was going to do, but like he said, he’d give it a go. Sitting back on his heels, he began to rub your shoulders, working your muscles with the pads of his thumbs. You rolled your shoulders back again as he massaged them, cracking your neck to each side with a sigh.

After an indeterminate amount of time - time had a weird habit of going both too fast and too slow when he was touching you, Tom had come to realise - you twisted your arm behind your back, gesturing between your shoulder blades with your hand.

“Can do you like, this bit?”

“Sure,” Tom thought for a moment, paused, then swallowed harshly before continuing. “Probably easier if you uh, lie down and like...takeoffyourbra.”

“Oh you think?” you laughed, looking over your shoulder at him.

“Just a suggestion,” Tom shrugged, putting on his most innocent smile.

“Fine.”

You sighed as you rolled your eyes, reaching behind you to unhook the clasp of your bra. Watching you intently as you wiggled out of your bra without taking your top off like some sort of circus performer, Tom shuffled down the bed to give you room to reposition, kneeling beside you once you lay down on your front. His fingers brushed over yours as he helped you push your t shirt up to expose your back.

“Do you have any, like, I dunno-” he began as he ran his hands over your back, stopping when you cut him off.

“Are you about to ask me if I have any massage oils?”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, your cheek pressed to your pillow as you lay with your head to the side. Tom didn’t know quite what to say, feeling his face heat up as the seconds ticked by.

“Uhh…”

“Why would I have massage oil?” you laughed, shaking your head (though your head movements were pretty restricted given your position).

“I dunno…” he shrugged, laughing too when he thought it through, hearing it how you would have heard it and realising it was a pretty bizarre think to ask. What did he think you were, a masseuse?

“I have body lotion on my dresser though?”

“Right, okay, that works.”

Scrambling off the bed, Tom made his way over the chest of drawers on the opposite side of the room. He scanned over the bottles and tubs sitting on the surface, trying to decipher which one might be most appropriate. After a moment he settled on one in a rather large bottle with a pump dispenser, ‘Smoothie Star Deep Moisture Milk’ printed on the front along with a picture of a milkshake - or perhaps it was a smoothie, given the name of the product. Either way it seemed like it would do the job, and according to the label it had an “irresistible scent” so that was promising.

Definitely not noticing that he could kind of see the outline of your underwear through your leggings now that your top was no longer covering your bum, Tom climbed back onto the bed and set your moisturiser down on your bedside cabinet. He knelt by your side for a moment, before deciding to just go for it and swing one of his legs over yours, careful to support most of his weight as he sat atop your thighs. Reaching over, he pumped a generous amount of ‘body milk’ (which now he thought about it didn’t really sound all that pleasant) into his hand, rubbing his palms together to try and warm it up a little before he touched you.

“Sorry s’cold,” he murmured as he started to rub it into your skin, hearing your breathing hitch slightly.

“S’okay.”

Your voice was a little muffled, your face pressed more firmly into the pillows as your body relaxed, but he heard you well enough. He started to massage the area you’d asked him to do, varying the pressure of his fingers and thumbs as they worked your muscles, sliding smoothly over your skin. You sighed contentedly as he continued his work, moving up to your shoulders, then back down to do between your shoulder blades again, until the majority of the lotion had been absorbed into your skin.

Tom was trying very, very hard to concentrate on what his hands were doing, he really was, but the thing was that your skin was very soft and warm, and the scent of the body lotion really was quite nice. He wasn’t sure if he’d go as far as irresistible but it was sweet and comforting - almonds, oats, and brown sugar, apparently, he saw when he squinted to read the label. In any case the whole experience was quite pleasant, and your thighs were warm and firm underneath him, and then he moved his hands to massage your sides and accidentally-maybe-a-little-bit-on-purpose touched the side of your breast, and he became rather more aware of other, lower parts of his body. Oh no.

His eyes flicked to your face to gauge your reaction - if you didn’t react, or looked uncomfortable, he’d stop and go back to your shoulders. He could only see the side of your face, and your eyes were closed, but he was fairly sure there was a flicker of a smirk on your lips, so he figured he could test the waters a little. You must have known this was a possibility though, surely? Surely it had occurred to you that a backrub might not be 100% innocent? Not that that had been his intention, but still, he was only human.

Tom’s hands moved down to your hips and then inwards, his thumbs working into the small of your back. You hummed appreciatively, which was encouraging, so he shuffled further down your legs as his hands traveled lower and lower until they were on your ass, and he could have sworn you pushed back against him. Tom squeezed your bum, gently at first and then a little firmer, his thumbs tucked under your cheeks. You hummed again, but this time there was definitely something more than just appreciation for a good back rub in there, so he leant down and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, then another to your neck, nudging your bunched up t shirt aside with his chin. He watched your face as you smiled, sighing. You began to shift beneath him, his hands moving to hold your hips loosely as you turned onto your back.

“Better?” he mumbled against your lips before you kissed him, your fingers weaving into his hair as you pulled his face down to yours.

You just hummed into the kiss, so he took that as a yes, and moved one hand up to your breast. Slipping beneath your t shirt, his hand kneaded your breast firmly, feeling your nipple hardening beneath his palm. You whimpered softly into his mouth when he pinched it between his fingertips, his tongue dipping into your mouth as your jaw slackened.

Grinding against you as you kissed, Tom moaned at the sensation of his hardening cock rubbing up against you, even through his clothes. His lips left yours as he moved to kiss down your neck and chest, pushing up the front of your top to expose your body.

He sucked your right nipple into his mouth while his hand continued to play with your other breast, rolling his tongue over it until it was firm between his lips. You whined, and he was very thankful that he managed to open his eyes and look up just in time to see you biting your bottom lip, your eyes fluttering shut. He switched his hand and his mouth then, his fingertip tracing small circles over your damp nipple while he covered the other with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth until you whined again, tugging on his hair.

Scattering kisses across your stomach as he went, Tom continued his way down your body, his hands tugging down the waistband of your leggings and underwear together. Pulling them down, he moved down the bed until he was at the foot of your bed, helping you wiggle out of the tight material with a breathy laugh when it caught on your ankles.

Your leggings finally cast side, Tom knelt between your legs as you spread them open for him. His t shirt soon joined your leggings on the floor before he lay down, his fingertips brushing over your inner thighs as he pressed kisses to your hips. His hands and lips travelled down over your body, his middle finger slipping inside you as he sucked hard on the soft skin at the very top of your thigh. Searching for the spot he found last time, Tom twisted his wrist, curling his finger - and judging by your sharp intake of breath, he found it. Adding a second finger and crooking it at the same angle, he couldn’t help the satisfied smirk that spread across his lips - but with his face buried between your thighs, you wouldn’t have seen it anyway.

Your fingers toying gently with the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck as he worked, Tom took his time; flicking his tongue in firm circles, tracing long lines up and down, sucking and licking your clit while his fingers alternated between slowly pumping in and out of you and curling to stimulate that spot inside your walls. He savoured all your little moans and gasps, the twitching of your thighs, the tightening of your fingers in his hair, until:

“Oh fuck-”

Between your whimpered curse and the tension in your body, Tom knew you were about to come. He moved his hand faster, fucking you with his fingers until your back was arching, your hips jerking up as you squeaked out a moan, your walls clenching around his fingers as you came. He’d learnt by now that when he thinks he should stop he should actually keep going (and then stop), so he kept on moving his tongue in firm circles over your clit even once you stopped grinding against his mouth, your nails digging into the back of his neck as your orgasm continued to shudder through your body. He only slowed his fingers down once you began to relax, your hands leaving his hair as you let out a long, deep breath. Tom tilted his face to the side, kissing your thigh softly as he looked up at you, your eyes just blinking open and your teeth releasing your bottom lip from between their grasp.

Your hands rubbed his shoulders as he moved back up your body, giggling when he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before he kissed you. His arms bracketed your head as you kissed, supporting his weight over you as he lay between your legs. You cupped his face with one hand, the other trailing down his torso to undo his jeans. Tom sighed in a mixture of pleasure and relief when you pulled his boxers down enough to free his cock, your hand beginning to pump his length. Your thumb brushed over the head with each movement, his sensitive skin tingling beneath your touch. He tilted his head to the side as you moved to kiss his neck, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark just below his jawline. He had just about been able to stop himself thrusting into your hand up until then, but if you were going to be doing that, or nibbling on his earlobe, or moving your other hand from his cheek down to squeeze his ass, then he could hardly be blamed if he pressed his body closer to yours, your fingers tightening around his cock as he thrust into your hand. Your hand on his bum was pulling him closer to you anyway, so he didn’t have a choice, really.

It wasn’t long you both wanted, needed more, though, so with swollen lips and heavy breaths Tom off you to take his jeans off, pressing one more firm kiss to your lips before he did so. You sat up and took a condom from your bedside cabinet while he discarded his jeans and boxers, passing it to him once he was back kneeling between your thighs. He always felt like he had to fight the urge to say thanks when he took a condom from you, which didn’t really make any sense, like you needed it as much as he did? But anyway, this was not the time to ponder the proper etiquette of receiving condoms - you had one, it was now in situ, so he had more important things to think about.

Tom groaned as he eased into you, kissing your neck as you lay with your head nestled among the pillows, your legs spread open wide. He pushed into you slowly, gradually getting deeper with each thrust in and out until he was about to bottom out inside you. Looking down between your bodies to watch, he pulled out almost completely then pushed all the way back in, feeling your breath hot on his skin when you moaned.

Your fingers threaded through his hair once he was settled over you again, pulling him closer. You kissed his neck as his hips ground against yours, moving to suck just above his collarbone when he began to thrust steadily into you. Your teeth nipped at his skin, your tongue soothing the sting as his cock hit deep inside you with each jerk of his hips.

Squeezing your breast with one hand while the other held your waist, Tom dipped his head, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He started to kiss your neck, but you all but panted his name in his ear and tugged on his hair, so he ended up kissing your lips instead. All roaming tongues and smacking lips, you kissed messily, you whimpering into his mouth when he shifted the angle of his hips and hit deeper inside you. Your bodies weren’t positioned quite right for him to carry on hitting that angle, though, so he was forced to pull away from your hungry kiss and get to his knees (glancing behind him as he went so he didn’t hit his head on your stupid slanted ceiling).

Your arms fell either side of your head as it dropped back into the pillows, bending your knees to adjust to the new position, his legs slotting into place under your thighs. His hands gripping your waist, pulling you down onto him to meet each thrust of his hips, Tom looked down at you through heavy lids, watching your face, your body. Your mouth hung open slightly as you gasped out quiet ohs and fucks each time he thrust into you, your brow furrowed in pleasure and your breasts bouncing under your t shirt with every jolt of your bodies, your back arched as you gripped the pillow behind your head. Every now and then he reached down, his thumb brushing back and forth over your swollen clit.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, your pussy pulsating around his cock as he rubbed your clit.

He was close, he knew, but thankfully he knew that you were too. You bit down on your bottom lip and looked up at him with almost pleading eyes as you lifted your legs higher still, bringing your knees closer to your chest as Tom shifted to lean down into you more. His fingers dug into your thighs as he held your legs up at your sides, one of your hands reaching down between your bodies to replace his, your fingers working your clit. The bed creaked under you as Tom thrust into you hard and fast, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to watch you come apart beneath him. You released your lip from between your teeth as you came with a heavy moan, your thighs shaking under his palms and your walls clenching around his cock - and that was it, he couldn’t hold out any longer. Eyes squeezing shut, he groaned as he came, slowing down his thrusts to a steady grinding inside you to try and draw out both your highs.

Doing his utmost not to collapse on top of you, Tom shifted to rest his weight on his forearms as he kissed your neck, breathing heavily. You wiggled under him, lowering your legs slowly either side of his hips as you smoothed stray hairs back away from your face.

“What?” he mumbled against your shoulder when he heard you breathe out a laugh. Tiredness tugged at every one of Tom’s muscles, but he mustered up the strength to pull up and out of you, falling down onto his back once you’d shuffled to the side to make space on the bed beside you. “Why’d you laugh?”

“Just thinking- ” you mused, turning your head to look at him. “- interesting type of massage.”

“Yeah, well,” Tom chuckled, shrugging as he sat up. “Special clients only, you know?”

“I feel very privileged,” you smirked at him as he stood up to get rid of the used condom and its long-discarded wrapper.

Tom looked over his shoulder at you just as you were sitting up, pulling your t shirt down over your stomach and looking at the floor around your bed, presumably in search of your underwear.

“What sides are you getting?”

“Huh? Oh,” It took Tom a moment to catch up with the sudden change of subject, slightly preoccupied with cleaning himself up with a tissue at that precise moment. Truth be told, he’d kind of forgotten about your plans to go to Nandos. He was pretty tired anyway, after being up late last night cramming and then up early for his exam this morning which in itself was mentally tiring, and now this exertion of physical energy was more than enough to push him over the edge into nap territory - especially if he was going to go out tonight. But, you had been very excited about it, and he was quite hungry now that he thought about it, so he supposed he would make the effort. And now that he was thinking about it, he came to a decision as to which side dishes to get pretty quickly. “All of them?”

You nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“Good choice.”

Tom just about made it through driving to and from Nandos and eating without falling asleep, though driving back was significantly more taxing. On the way up to your room he grumbled internally about the decision to go back to yours - there were just too many stairs between the front door and bed for his liking - though he supposed it did make sense for both of you to get ready at yours. He’d only needed to bring like four things with him, whereas who knew what manner of equipment you’d need to get ready. And, as you were saying as you finally made it to your bedroom, you didn’t even know what you wanted to wear yet.

“What are your options?” Tom stifled a yawn as he took off his jacket, sitting down on your bed and kicking off his shoes.

“Ugh,” you sighed, throwing your own jacket on the back of your chair and opening your wardrobe. “I think these?”

You took out three dresses on hangers, holding each one up for him to see before tossing them onto your bed - or at least, he assumed they were dresses, but who knew, honestly. They all looked nice enough to him, and you always looked good anyway, so he asked what he considered to be the most sensible question:

“Which one is comfiest?”

You hummed, thinking for a moment before replying. “The black one.”

“Wear the black one then.”

You looked from the dresses (?) to Tom, then back again, then nodded.

“Okay,” you said decisively, bundling the clothes up in your arms and dumping them unceremoniously on your desk chair before wiggling out of your leggings. “That was easy, thanks.”

“No problem.”

Tom struggled to hold back another yawn as you closed your blinds, blocking out what remained of the daylight trickling through the window above your desk. Taking off his jeans and kicking them off the end of your bed, he shuffled over as you pulled back the duvet to get into bed beside him. Turning onto his side once he’d joined you under the covers, Tom smiled sleepily as you lay down facing him. He was pretty sure you smiled back, equally sleepily, but he hardly saw it, his eyes already closing without his consent nor permission. He felt like he was about to say something, but he couldn’t remember quite what it was, and he was falling asleep now, quicker than even he expected. Never mind, he resolved, if it’s important it’ll come back to me later - later...later! That was it, he was thinking should probably set an alarm so the two of you didn’t sleep too late and miss predrinks or something disastrous like that.

“What time-”

“Shhhhh!”

Tom opened one eye to see you shaking your head, your eyes closed even as you reached out to blindly press a silencing finger to his lips (well, his nose first, but it was clear you were going for his lips).

“Nap now, words later.”

Okay then, he closed his eyes again, already feeling sleep pulling at his mind and body, nap now it is.

⋘ ELEVEN | THIRTEEN ⋙

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oh-theatre · 4 years

Text

Livin’ It Up: Chapter 1

Chapter title: An Abrupt Beginning

A/N: Me ? Hating every single thing I write?? BUT OFC GOD I HATE THIS SO MUCH IT SUCKS AHAHA. Im so frustrated, I couldnt get Logans end rant to work and its stupid and I just hate everything i hate this i hate my writing hnnng. Can you believe i took an ok concept and and FUCKED IT UP

words: 2614

summary: Roman throws yet another party, and his only true hope for the night is someone to show up. Patton finds himself disturbed, and Logan needs to stop drinking.

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, eventual demus, eventual Moceit (Which then goes back to Logicality and Demus)

warnings: Swearing, alcohol, underage drinking, drinking, parties, kissing, throw up

Ao3 Link

“Thank you, for coming to this party with me” Virgil repeats once more, combing through his hair for the fifteenth time. Patton chuckles from his bed, neatly sitting as he flips through his book, writing down notes in his book. “Have I mentioned thank you?” Virgil jokes, Patton nods, biting his lip as he crosses through a difficult section.

“The golgi apparatus provides transportation-”

“Pat! Shouldn't you be getting ready?” Virgil turns to him, the cheerleader stops chewing the end of his pencil, a sweet smile as he shrugs. He closes his books, stacking them neatly on his shelf, everything organized. Once his homework is tucked away into the right folders and his pencils are safely back in his pencil case he moves to the mirror.

“I'm good to go” He says flopping back to his bed, Virgil scoffs. “Virge, these parties aren't anything formal. As long as you've got your phone, clothes and a swimsuit you're good” Patton assures, Virgil nods sitting on the bed, his shoes lacing as he hums. Patton adds his final bow, putting his boots comfortably on. “Ready?” He questions, Virgil sighs patting his jeans.

“I guess”

~~~

“Hey sorry Cindy you mind if i borrow Logan?” Roman taps on the girls shoulder, she sighs pulling away from Logan's mouth. He waves her off grumpily following Roman into the kitchen. “What's that? Third one tonight?” Roman teases, setting up the snacks

“Fourth” He corrects picking his teeth. “Carter, Fiona, Marty and Cindy” He sits on the stool, stirring his drink, the remaining ice clinking delicately. Roman wants to push but fears a drunken argument before his gathering so allows Logan to pour himself more of whatever murky drink he had been guzzling down. “Mm, why must we have these soirees” Logan mumbles, spinning around.

“Its a party Logan, i've been attending and hosting them for ages!” Roman argues, he sighs finally finishing his set up. “Look just dont make out with too many people, I don't need a million girls crying at me at the end of the night because they thought you were the one”

“They know im gay right?” He sips, adjusting his glasses.

“Do you know youre gay?” Roman retorts, a glare is his gift in return. “Why do you do it then?” Roman inquires, moving the pair through the already bustling house.

“Its fun” Logan shrugs, Roman pauses snickering as he carries the chips. “Not fun, but its something to do. Mind numbing and does not require actual intellect” Logan slumps on the couch almost instantly finding himself lip to lip with yet another poor and emotional victim. Roman rolls his eyes walking away from the mess. The door continues to open as more people file in, soon the familiar scent of alcohol and booze fill the air and Roman finds himself taking the tiniest sips from his own drink. With every creak of the door, the slightest hope lights up the man.

Come on

Just walk through the door

Please

~~~

“Do I drink, do I get a drink, what do I do? I got this” Virgil rambles, Patton chuckles, shaking his head. Closing the door behind him he guides Virgil into the kitchen, serving him a club soda. He takes it, almost finishing the entire thing, the sweat dripping his anxiousness for miles. “Thanks, ugh why am i here”

“Because I invited you” Roman chimes in, Virgil practically chokes back his drink, being rescued by Patton. “I'm really glad you're here Virge” Roman smirks, Virgil nods through his ever increasing reddened face. His eyes land on Patton, a slight regret but a neutral respect is shared with a nod.

“Ill be by the pool if you need me” Patton whispers, taking his leave, into the rioting house.

“How are you?” Virgil decides, Roman closes the door behind them chuckling as he closes the distance. “That's not an answer” His nerves seem to calm as his ‘radiant’ sarcasm takes place. Somehow his annoyance for Roman returned, his defenses lifted. “Nice house, mind giving me a tour?” He dances out from the ever closing gap Roman entraps him in, a slight scoff of amusement but the teen obliges.

“Well this is the kitchen, an original model and renovated around 5 years ago” Roman demonstrates, Virgil nods finding it actually quite interesting. A serenity falling over him as he takes this moment to breathe. “Over here is the hallway, leading into an assortment of rooms” He explains, Virgil identifies a name plastered on each. “You've got the bathroom, an office and our library still in its original condition from 1875” He hopes to impress the young teen. Knowing Logan, when he was still fresh, found the room the most enchanting thing.

“And where's your room?” Virgil teases, knowing this apartment was enormous in its own right.

“Upstairs” Roman replies, Virgil bites his tongue. Upstairs, god this apartment was huge. “And downstairs we have the pool and some storage. Nobody really uses the pool to be honest. Mostly people seem to hang out in the living room or-”

“The other living room?” Virgil points as they come into yet another opening, flashing lights, loud screeches and many drunken dancers. Roman and him share an amused laugh.

“Care for a dance?” Roman nudges, Virgil scoffs, taking yet another sip of his drink. Finding the teen to be serious he can't help but allow this to fuel his laughter more.

“Me? Dance? Oh that's not the issue...it's dancing with you..” Virgil carries on, Roman rolls his eyes dragging him onto the floor. Slow but upbeat movements take place and...what's this? Is Virgil having...fun?

~~~

The light splashes and ripples of waves as Patton let his feet dangle felt calming. No part of him missed the chaos upstairs, sure freshman year this kind of thing was at least slightly intriguing. But the parties and the drinking grew tiresome and well...annoying. At least now he knew his way around, no one went near the pool, it restricted them.

So, with his bubbling soda by his side, and his book in hand he just sat. It was almost peaceful, the moon found its way through the window, the muffled sounds of music were present and the water felt cool to the touch, reminding him he was there.

“Are you reading?” A slurred voice requests, Patton squints up watching Logan tumble into the space. His feet repeating a crass and heavy movement.

“Are you tap dancing?” Patton hides his giggle. Logan shrugs dropping what seems to be his hundredth red solo cup of the night. Roman makes it a point to never give him glass ones or anything fancier seeing as his tendency to well...destroy grows heavy.

“Trying to” he continues, practically falling over himself, the pool and him soon to become very familiar. “Why are you reading at a party, it's a party or a social gathering and while reading is generally an enjoyable activity it deems itself unsocial and a bore when surrounded by peers and other things to spark your brain” He rambles, Patton forgot how fast the teen could talk. Logan had not been to debate in awhile. “Captain of the cheerleading squad, I would presume this is exactly your type of event” Logan staggers forward a bit more.

“Observant” Patton mumbles, returning his focus to his book, flipping through the pages happily.

“I mean I did happen to notice some of your team was present” Logan continues, Patton nods.

“Yes, I saw you and Brianna grow very close, I think a spring wedding” Patton jokes, Logan furrows his brows clearly scanning his already jumbled brain for the person in question. “Red head, wearing the green sweater and jeans” Patton reminds, Logan snaps a flash of excitement.

“Ah yes! She was fun, well okay, better than most people I suppose.” He sighs, finally finding himself a ground, he breathes. “I want to swim, so with my capable body and sane mind I shall” He deems, Patton looks up catching Logan as he removes his shirt. Now Patton wasn't invisible and he wasn't one to deny that Logan was well...fit. Hearing the splash as Logan falls into the pool he returns to his book. The water makes a plethora of noises, moving around the pool growing close to Patton. “You're intelligent” Logan pops up, Patton's gaze moves to him. He's closer now, fiddling with the water around him.

“Thank you?” Patton wonders, its random but he thinks its a compliment.

“Straight A’s, you skipped your junior year” Logan lists, Patton knows all this but he hums along, no harm in listening. “Captain of the cheerleading squad, student council president and vice president to the drama cabinet” Logan moves closer, Patton finally understands.

“So this is how you do it?” Patton kicks a tiny bit, the water flicks melting back into the pool. “You root out their accomplishments, find yourself impressed and then suddenly head over heels for you” He laughs, Logan hates the weird sense that floods him as the delicate sound sweeps the room.

“Photographic memory” Logan shrugs, leaning back as his hair washes over, drooping with thick water. He advances, curious as Patton continues to neglect him and read his book. “Im not wrong am i?” Patton shrugs, his eyes averting Logans prominent gaze. “Why dont you get in the pool? Why come down to read and sit with your feet in the water when your body could be submerged, are you so bored?” Logan pushes

“Just here for a friend” Pattons short and quick responses bother Logan, something about their manner itches him. He moves closer, finding himself close enough to feel the warmth upon his tingling skin.

“What, may I ask, are you reading?” Logan inquires, peeking over. He attempts to take the book, the world was his to own, why should this book be any different. Patton pulls away and soon the pair commence in a playful game, Patton tugs his book away as Logan fears no boundaries and continues to close the space between them. Grabbing as fast as he can to try and see what might be so much more interesting then Logan himself. Finally it slows and the pair eyes lock, Pattons arms retire and his body relaxes allowing a mutual agreement to both move closer and lock lips with one another.

He couldn't deny that the hype is not valid, he was a good kisser.

But even with Logan's hands meeting his own, and the perfect way this felt…

This wasn't Patton.

He pulls away, resting his hand on Logan's chest. A tender but bittersweet look to a pouting Logan.

“Sorry Moreno, but I'm not going to be one of those girls or boys” He smirks. The shock runs from Logan's face quickly as he pretends to fall hurt back into the pool. Patton stands finding the clock has run its course, and the night comes to a close. Gathering his things, stepping over Logan's mess, with no looking back he makes his way upstairs.

~~~

“Did you atleast have a bit of fun?” Roman hopes, Virgil and him having reconvened in the kitchen.

“When you were not stepping on my feet?” Virgil teases, pouring himself a much needed glass of water. “Yeah I had fun.” He rests, giving a somewhat anxious Roman a reason to breathe. They seemed to keep their proximity to one another, Virgil leans comfortably on the counter.

“Well good…” Roman whispers, not really paying attention as hes much more focused on the small details placed around Virgil's face. The sweet dimple of his sarcastic smirk, the poorly hidden under bags sleeping below his stormy and ebony eyes. The soft yet controlled way he kissed him-

Hold on…

They pull away both utterly confused by how this night had proceeded.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that…” Roman fiddles with Virgil's hand, ignoring the sweat from both.

“Me too” He smiles under his gloom “I think we’re just drunk” Virgil searches for an excuse, he knows the reality. He's been around long enough.

“I'm not drunk, are you?” Romans voice remains soft, Virgil shakes his head. The only drink he had consumed was club soda and water, both becoming aware as they push on his bladder. “I've had a moderate amount of drinks” Roman cant talk apparently, his ability to communicate normally and with his typical charm had clearly left him. Disappointed at his failed attempts.

“I should go” He decides, Patton appearing in the doorway only furthering that choice. Roman pulls away, biting his lip as he nods. “Thanks for inviting me”

“Thanks for coming” He replies, turning to Patton “Both of you” Feeling Virgil slip away, joining Patton. With a timid smile and wave he watches them link arm, rest tired heads and disappear.

~~~

“Are you going to help clean up or sit there and threaten to throw up?” Roman bites, exhausted he organizes and cleans up the remains of his celebration. Logan groans, his head pounding wanting nothing less then to be useless and contain almost zero information.

“He was different, and I don't understand why or how but he was. He was witty and he said no.” Logan begins, Roman yawns knowing what course this was setting him upon. “But I like him and not just I need to win over him but truly like him. I don't like this feeling, but it wasn't a done deal” He speaks, his words making no sense worrying Roman. “I kissed him, kissed him, and I do that. I truly do. I find some brief and fulfilling satisfaction from performing such an action but when he decided against it I felt not..that” Roman nods, processing his vague and ranting words. “Its not that hes cliche and that hes different but it was, he didn't care, this wasnt a game to him or some quick fling or an experimentation it was nothing” He scrambles hard for an explanation, all this thinking hurting his frail state. “I don't know what I feel, I don't understand and I don't enjoy that. I like understanding, I do, I know things, I'm smart, I got it..” This was Romans cue as soon as the self-doubt and irrationality set in, Logan needed to shut down for the evening. “I don't know what I'm talking about, who was it...Patty? Marlene...maybe Connor” he ponders, his trail of thought gone.

“Your fathers coming home tomorrow, we should get you rested and ready for his meeting” Roman reminds, leading a hyper and ranting Logan to his room. He moans as he falls to the bed.

“I loathe the idea of my father returning, I wish not to see him or meet with him. Its the same thing as always, and I don't mind, I've accepted my path but why must I be continued to be reminded of my lack of freedom and set future. I don't care, I have no qualms but to have to constantly be pushed further sparks a rebellious thought in me and I wish-

“I will smother you with my pillow Logan” Roman interjects “Go to sleep, you'll be back to your normal, cold, and uncaring self in the morning” Logan rolls over, clutching to the pillow beside him “Nothing will matter and you'll have become familiar with at least three new people by noon” Roman decides

“Mm...I very much hope you are correct in your predicament” And with his final words Logan falls into a deep sleep. Roman after much cleaning, passes out in his own manner, sprawled on his bed, hating the night and the way it went.

#livin it up au #logicality #romantic prinxiety #prinxiety #demus #moceit #sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #writing #my writing #ao3 #archive of our own

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fearfilledvirgil · 4 years

Text

Stargazing Lovers

Summary: Virgil was having a disaster of a day. That somewhat changed when he went for a late-night walk, bent on stargazing.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of insomnia/all-nighters, anxiety, intrusive thoughts

Word count: 4330

Pairings: analogical, platonic moxiety

A/N: this sprung from a word association game with @lovecrazyjennybear! She co-wrote it with me. and yeah hi hello im still alive hope y’all are too

masterlist

Taglist: @rileyfirstname @verymuchanidiot @definentlynotjustanotherlemon @silversmith-91 @kanejandkruge @sander-fander-sides @lovecrazyjennybear @the-incedible-sulk

~•~

Rain. Virgil loved it when it rained because of a multitude of reasons. When it rained, the sky was cloudy, and that meant that the bright, ever-blinding sun was gone. It was cold when water poured down from the sky, which meant that Virgil could wear his hoodie without any questioning. The sound of the rain pouring down on the roof and window were a comfort to him as well, which meant that his anxiety was at ease. Lastly, the rain produced a particular smell after it drenched the pavement, which was another great comfort to him about rain. Rain meant something to Virgil, and he certainly didn’t mind walking in it. He didn’t mind getting wet, getting cold, because that was just another reminder that he was, indeed, alive.

One thing that Virgil loved doing when it rained ever since he was a kid was jumping into puddles. Due to his anxiety that someone would be watching him and make fun of him for it, he didn’t do it often anymore. This didn’t completely stop him, however. Any time he knew there was no one else at home, he would go into the backyard and find the biggest puddle he could and jump in it.

Another reason he didn’t go jumping in puddles anymore was that he rarely wore his rain boots in public. He loved them, but they did nothing to help his anxiety. The black boots his best friend Patton got him had small purple rain clouds with lightning bolts coming out of them. They were a great match for Virgil’s personality, but not for his desire to not draw attention to himself. Virgil would only wear them out in public if he were out with Patton, as his rain boots were a generic bright yellow with a light blue clasp and sole.

Luckily for Virgil at this very moment, he was home alone, and the rain was pouring down harder than ever. He wanted to go and let out his childish side, but he couldn’t find his rain boots anywhere. He looked in every closet, cupboard, nook, and cranny to find the rubber shoes, but he was unable to. That fact alone made a weight of guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. Patton would be devastated if he found out that Virgil had lost the boots he gave him. The two always wore their rain boots out when they were together and it was rainy or wet. Virgil didn’t want to let him down, but here he was, unable to find what he was looking for.

Being the only person in the house that cared about cleanliness, he was usually the person who did all the cleaning. Virgil liked a clean house because an uncluttered space made his anxiety calm down. When he knew where things were, he was happy, but he currently did not know where his rain boots were. Therefore, he was not happy. Virgil didn’t understand where they could have gone. As mentioned, he was the only one who cleaned, so someone else wouldn’t have moved them anyway.

He knew that his anxiety would not help him in finding the boots. Virgil also knew that doing something repetitive like cleaning would help him relax enough to start thinking logically. He looked around for something that needed to be cleaned and noticed a couple of dishes still in the sink. With a sigh, Virgil got to work on making sure they were spotless. Once that task was complete, he felt calmer and level headed, so he began thinking of the last place he had seen the boots.

From what he could remember, the last time he wore them was when he went for a walk in the rain with Patton. Walks with Patton lead to puddle splashing, which usually leads to muddy boots. Where do muddy boots go? The garage. With that unclear memory in mind, he decided to attempt to find them in the garage.

After at least two hours of searching, Virgil found nothing. He looked everywhere in the garage from the high racks to the low crates. He could not, for the life of him, find his rain boots. At this point, Virgil had no motivation left to continue to look in the garage. The sun had probably set a while ago, so it was even colder in the non-insulated garage than before. To top that off, it wasn’t even raining anymore. Tired, stressed, unmotivated, and guilty, Virgil decided to retreat to his bathroom with his towel in hand.

With a sigh, Virgil turned on the water until it was nearly scalding hot. He then stepped into his shower, knowing full well that he would spend more time contemplating than actually showering. It was easy to with the water cascading down his back, and the darkness smothering his eyes. Virgil couldn’t bear to turn on the light, not when (in combination with other things) the night was so beautiful. He loved the night, the dark, so he reveled in it. The dark was where even he couldn’t see his own flaws.

After the water grew cold, Virgil stepped out, wrapping himself into his towel. Once he made it into his room, he noticed the clouds that once had covered the sky were no more. Without the heavy cover, the stars showed themselves to be shining brightly in the night air. Even though the puddle jumping was a failure, it didn’t mean he still couldn’t try and enjoy the day. The anxious boy could almost hear Patton’s voice in his head, saying that one bad experience doesn’t make an entire day irretrievable. Changing into black sweats, a black shirt, and his hoodie, Virgil made his way outside and towards a hill near his house to practice some Astronomy.

When he reached the peak, however, there was already someone there.

The person’s back was facing Virgil, clad in some sort of dark collared shirt. The figure turned around in an instant, probably in response to Virgil’s footsteps on the grass or his breathing that was becoming heavier as the seconds ticked on. The whites of the hoodie-clad boy’s eyes were astoundingly exposed, unblinking irises expanding tenfold at the star-lit face of the intruder of Virgil’s safe place.

The first thing that Virgil saw was the glint of the moonlight reflecting off of glasses. His first thought was of Patton, but when the light faded, Virgil tensed.

It was Logan. Logan Sanders, the biggest nerd who was top of Virgil’s class. The boy who never got below 95% on any assignment; the seemingly friendless tutor who no one ever saw outside of anything academic in nature. Logan, who usually was seen wearing some kind of formal attire, whether it be only a tie or up to a three-piece suit. This was the boy who expressed his few and far between emotions with his catchphrase “falsehood” screamed at the top of his lungs. Normally the accusation used to that caliber happened during a debate when someone would present a lie as factual, knowingly or otherwise.

Honestly, this guy was strangely calming to Virgil when he wasn’t fuming at other’s stupidity during an argument. He was calm, at least from a distance. Virgil never fully interacted with him before, keeping Logan and anyone else at an arm’s length. But Logan didn’t look down on people for not knowing something. He didn’t barrage people for not having the same understanding as him, instead helping the person see the problem clearer. He was a Logician, working on facts but never discarding emotions and experiences.

Virgil swayed on his feet, realizing that he had been staring at Logan for too long to be socially acceptable.

“You were in my Astronomy class last year, weren’t you?” Virgil blinked when Logan broke the silence. Logan took a small step closer to Virgil, tilting his head in curiosity.

“I… uh,” Virgil stuttered out, internally cursing himself. He made his feet take a half-a-step closer to Logan despite the churning in his stomach. He swallowed the lump rising in his throat, trying to ignore the tension in his chest. “Yeah.”

Virgil clenched his jaw, disappointment in himself growing for how lamely he ended that pathetic excuse for a sentence. Logan seemed to notice this with a blink and a relaxing of his shoulders.

“Logan Sanders.” Logan offered his left hand gently, keeping it relaxed and pointed downwards slightly. Virgil was grateful for the fact that his other hand was still in sight.

“Um. Virgil,” His left hand shakily escaped from his hoodie pocket. Virgil almost wanted to scoff at Logan introducing himself, as if they didn’t share a year-long course together the year prior. Then again, Virgil had no idea how people usually introduced each other. With a harsh blink and a cringe in on himself, the uneasy boy registered that he didn’t give his last name as Logan had. “Virgil Casey.” The two hands met in the middle of the space between the two of them, and clasped together gently for a handshake.

“Salutations, Virgil,” Logan released Virgil’s hand, taking a step back. One foot was still facing Virgil, but the other was pointed toward a telescope that Virgil hadn’t noticed before. His body was half facing the other boy, yet still slightly away from him. “I suppose you came up here to look at the stars as well?”

Virgil nodded, putting his hand back in his coat pocket. “If you would like, I’d be willing to show you some constellations.” Logan blinked at how fast Virgil’s head snapped upwards from its downward position at his words.

“I know some,” Virgil’s voice hardened as his words cut defensively.

“I didn’t mean to say you don’t know any,” Logan’s voice was low, the vibrations from his words a soft hum. Virgil didn’t notice that he walked close enough to Logan to appreciate the cadence of his voice. “I was merely asking if you would like to be shown some more?”

“Oh. Um. Sure?” He didn’t mean the last word to be a question, but that’s how it came out. Forever unsure of himself, Virgil frequently made statements sound more like questions. It was one of the many things he disliked about himself, come to think of it. Virgil wrapped his arms around his torso, clawing his fingers tightly around his jacket sleeves.

Logan motioned to his telescope in a way of invitation, nodding his head toward it with the gesture. “I have this positioned to be able to see Apus.”

Virgil’s feet (not clad in his rain boots, something that still made his stomach turn) moved without his consent until they stopped in front of the telescope. He glanced away from the man beside him, settling his eyes on the telescope. “To see what now?”

“Apus. It is the exotic bird, or the bird-of-paradise, in the sky. Its name is Greek for ‘without feet’ because the Greek people once believed the bird-of-paradise did not have feet.” Logan took half a step back from his machine, allowing Virgil to take his place in front of it. It was a beautiful device, the most beautiful that Virgil had ever seen. The base color was black, the metal dark yet shining in the starlight. It had accents of dark blue it seemed, though it was difficult to tell in the dark. There were also silver linings on the telescope, pulling everything together into beauty.

“Oh my fucking god,” Virgil stepped up to line himself with the telescope. He let some of his anxiety go, wishing upon himself smoother emotions. “You are such a nerd.” Virgil leaned in to look into the telescope.

“Roman seems to enjoy calling me that,” Logan commented, more to himself that to Virgil. While Logan and Roman weren’t exactly friends, they did have a friendly rivalry going in their English class.

“He’s a prep who rules the school. It’s almost like it’s ingrained into his DNA or something,” Virgil didn’t look away from the telescope, enjoying the star shape he’d never knew existed. “Any other stars you wanna show me?”

Logan enjoyed Virgil’s enthusiasm at learning about space. It was something he knew plenty of. The two continued to look at different constellations long into the night. Virgil sometimes asking to know more information than Logan first gave on a particular group of stars. Before either of them knew it the two had talked until it was nearly morning.

Logan was the first to notice the time. “I will definitely need to correct my Circadian Rhythm seeing as it is 5 am.”

“Fuck, is it really?”

“I would not lie about that. It appears that I need to return home in order to get ready to go.”

Virgil squinted his eyes in confusion. It was now early Saturday morning, so where did Logan need to go to? “Where are you going if you don’t mind me asking?”

“My family is taking a day trip to the museum.”

Virgil looked at him. “Well I think you’ll have fun. Especially since you like the history and science stuff.”

“I agree it should be enjoyable.”

The two waited in silence for many moments more, both reluctant to leave the hilltop. Unbenounced to Virgil, Logan was apprehensive to leave. He didn’t want to leave Virgil–the boy who yelled and hissed and hit back but shook with fear once it was over–alone in this secluded place when it was still nightfall. Virgil didn’t want to leave because of a similar reason, but also because of the time. In about an hour, the sun would rise, and seeing it’s rays slowly but surely peak over the horizon from way up here was the most beautiful thing that Virgil had ever seen.

That is, not counting that look in Logan’s eyes when he’s rambling about something he particularly enjoys.

“Are you coming?” Logan’s smooth, if not tired, voice pressed in through Virgil’s ears, causing him to remove his eyes from the horizon. The other had already packed up his telescope and was seemingly ready to leave the hilltop. Virgil’s heart plummeted. He was the reason he was still here?

“It’s a little early to leave, isn’t it?” Virgil said under his breath. He still didn’t want to return home. If he could, he would live the rest of his life inside this one moment.

“What do you mean?” Logan asked.

“It’s just… The sunrise is always a wonderful thing to see. The way the sky slowly changes colors from the darkness of night to the bright color of the morning is breathtaking,” He turned to look back at the skyline. “Don’t you want to see that?”

Logan just looked at Virgil for a few moments. He could see that Virgil truly loved the idea of watching the sunrise. It was also clear that Virgil didn’t want to go home, at least not yet. Why? Logan didn’t know, but he couldn’t leave the other boy up on this hill alone. With a quick look at his watch, Logan decided he could stay until the sunrise and not be late for the family trip.

“That does sound pleasant. I suppose we should stay for it.”

“Wait. Really?” Virgil asked

“Yes.” Logan put down his telescope case to further prove his point.

“Thank you,” Virgil started out, taking a deep breath before shifting to get comfortable sitting down on the grass. “When it’s past 5 am, there’s really no reason in going to bed anyway. Getting sleep messes with being able to sleep the next night so…”

“I take it you have sleepless nights often, then?” Logan countered as he sat down next to Virgil. Very close to him, Virgil noticed instantly. “That cannot be good for your health.”

“I try to avoid it, but it’s bound to happen.” Virgil put his arms around his knees, going silent as the faintest peaks of sunlight started to slide over the horizon. The sunrise was early today, he supposed.

The light was fascinating. It crawled slower than a snail’s pace, but it still lit up the sky as it did so. It grew and grew, creeping up and out of the hills with every passing moment. Soon, the grave the sun made for itself was opening wider, allowing a sliver of the sun to be shown. The sky had taken a golden hue near the horizon a long while ago, the gold rays of light infecting the dark navy sky and bringing it to life. It was a painfully slow process, but as Virgil watched it in silence with Logan by his side, he could never have asked for anything more.

The sun was up. It was now shining brightly just over the horizon. It hurt to look at now, but that wasn’t stopping Virgil. He still didn’t move.

“Is there,” Logan paused, swallowed, and shifted so he faced Virgil. “Is there a particular reason you haven’t departed yet?”

“Hmm?” Virgil hummed instead of giving a worded answer. He turned away from the cloud-obscured sun to look at Logan.

Logan’s lips were pursed, eyebrows tighter than before. It was odd for Virgil to see, especially since the boy’s face had been relaxed for the entirety of their night together. “You wished to see the sunrise. That seems to have ended several minutes ago yet you haven’t made any attempt to move.”

Virgil shifted to put his hands under his legs, sitting on the shaking fingers. “It’s just... peaceful up here.”

“It is.” Logan needlessly adjusted his glasses. There was a pause, then, slowly, “However… I believe that there is another reason.”

Air heavily released from Virgil’s lungs, blowing out of his nose as his body deflated. Even after only a night spent together, Logan was able to read him better than most others. Not including Patton (who’s gift of rain boots he had lost and hadn’t been able to find). He wasn’t sure that he could tell Logan the many reasons why he didn’t want to go yet. There wasn’t a specific one, really, but rather a list of anxieties weighing Virgil down to the hilltop. “Mom’s out of town on a business trip. I don’t enjoy being home alone.”

“And your father is out of town as well?” Logan’s voice barely lifted at the end, as if it were more of a statement than a question. That was a reasonable, logical thought. Most people assumed that their peers still had both parents, especially at this age.

Virgil’s eyes broke away from Logan’s form. They wandered back to the sky, then fixed downwards at his thighs. “My dad…” The words were heavy on his tongue. “He died a few years ago.”

His father’s death was a sore subject. It was something that he never talked about, even with Patton. The two had met after his dad’s passing, so Patton never knew Virgil with both parents at his side. Virgil was certain that Patton was still under the impression that his dad died when Virgil was a young child, not a struggling teenager.

Silence rang out into the night as if Logan was at a loss for words. He probably was, considering the odd breathing pattern coming from him. It sounded as if Logan was opening his mouth, then closing it again, several times. “I, well... I apologize, Virgil. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t know, Logan.”

The silence that had begun after Virgil revealed something personal persisted for longer. It wasn’t an uncomfortable, stifled silence like before. Actually, the silence was nearer to the comfortable calm when they watched the sunrise. However, after a fair few minutes, Logan broke the stillness. “Unfortunately, I do need to return home.”

Virgil’s head reluctantly straightened up, slowly turning to nod in confirmation. He hated that the wonderful time had to end. A squirming, crawling emotion slithered in his chest. What if he’d never have such an amazing, peaceful night again? And with someone was smart and kind as Logan? There would be an uneasy sense of finality in walking home now.

It felt as if the air knew that this was something that would never happen again.

Logan picked himself off from the ground, moving to grab his telescope case. Unbeknownst to Virgil, the blue-clad boy was deeply lost in thought. The previous night was one of the most pleasant and calming that he’d had in a while. The hilltop was perfect for watching the stars, which he knew. What Logan didn’t understand until then was how nice it was to find someone who was as passionate about astronomy as he was.

“Virgil?”

“Hmm?” Virgil hummed in response.

“I was wondering if you would like to join me up here again Sunday night? Or considering it is nearly six in the morning, tomorrow night. We are due for an eclipse and while they are very pleasing to see with the naked eye, they are absolutely astonishing to see with the telescope. And it allows you to see some of the stars that are positioned closer to the moon you cannot normally see due to the brightness.”

Virgil’s eyes widened at the invitation. Logan–intelligent, seemingly friendless Logan–had invited him to spend more time with him? This couldn’t be the same Logan he knew from school. He had to be possessed or overtaken by a ghost or something. There was no way that he’d want to spend time with anyone, let alone someone who was such a mess.

Noticing the panic that gathered in Virgil’s eyes, Logan reached out his free hand to gently touch Virgil’s shoulder. The action made the anxious one jump, tense, then relax in the span of a few seconds. He never would have considered that someone like Logan would want to touch someone like Virgil. Logan’s hand remained on top of Virgil’s shoulder, just under his hood.

“I enjoyed spending time with you, Virgil,” Logan offered a twitch upwards of his lips along with a softening of the lines around his eyes and forehead. “Our shared interest and easy-going interactions make me want to see you again.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” Logan didn’t seem to mind that he had to constantly reassure Virgil of his anxieties. “I didn't realize that the night had passed because I enjoyed spending time with you. It’s rare to find someone with so much passion for something. You clearly love astronomy and wish to learn as much as possible. It’s refreshing actually.” The small smile never left Logan’s face.

Without realizing what he was doing, the anxious boy had wrapped his arms around Logan in a hug. When Logan didn’t initially return it, his thoughts started to get the better of him. He tensed, arms stiff but still around the boy who was practically a stranger. Why did he do that? Why did he think that was acceptable? Virgil probably just fucked up a good thing, didn’t he? Logan was merely being kind and he went and did something like that? He was such a dumbass.

Thankfully, a microsecond later, those anxieties were pushed aside slightly when he felt arms wrap around him. “Sorry,” Virgil said softly, wondering how that much of Patton had managed to rub off on him that he’d do something like that.

“It’s quite alright. I was just not expecting it.” Logan’s hands smoothed across Virgil’s back in a star pattern, as if he were drawing the shape. It was comforting, but the familiarity made tears begin to prick at Virgil’s eyes. His dad used to do that when he hugged his son.

Virgil blinked heavily. He tightened his grip on Logan, bunching the fabric of his shirt in his fingers. That level of hug lasted only a few seconds before Virgil loosened his arms. Both began to pull away.

“I guess, goodbye then?” Virgil mumbled, voice slightly wetter than he would have liked. It was slightly choked up, but thankfully Logan didn’t comment on it.

“It seems so.” Logan pulled his hands completely away from Virgil, their fingertips brushing for a moment. They stayed there, staring at each other, for a moment too long. Virgil cleared his throat, and Logan swallowed. His lips were turned upwards ever so slightly. “See you here tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Virgil shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. They were tingling for some reason that most definitely wasn’t anxiety. His mouth upturned into a smile to mirror Logan’s. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” Logan echoed with a nod, then leaned down to pick up his telescope case. Virgil didn’t know when he had put it down. Both took a few steps away from each other with shuffling feet on the damp grass. Logan’s mouth parted, then quickly closed without further words. The four-eyed boy turned, let his feet begin to carry him away from (Virgil dare say) his newfound friend, before casting his head backward one last time.

The view he witnessed was incomprehensible.

Virgil stood just at the edge of the hill, teetering on the brink of disaster. The dim lighting of newborn sunlight didn’t allow Logan to see Virgil’s face in its entirety, but he perceived the most noticeable details. He looked calm, standing next to doom, face soft and blissful with the smallest of genuine smiles gracing his lips. The wind had picked up at some point, allowing the dark locks of the anxious one’s hair to float just so. His unzipped jacket was fluttering in the breeze as well. Jingles of the tiniest variety sounded from the zipper clinking against metal. The sun, partially blocked by clouds, shown vibrantly from behind. The rays that escaped the warmly colored sky protruded out from Virgil as a hollow of light.

“Goodbye, Virgil.” Logan found himself saying, breathless.

“Bye, Logan.” Virgil tipped his fingers off his forehead in a salute, his smile infinite in the sunlight. Logan turned away once more, his own smile growing exponentially, feelings in both of their chests swirling swiftly at the days to come.

#Analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #analogical fanfic

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gguktarts · 4 years

Text

decathect | jk (3)

1. to withdraw one’s feelings of attachment from (a person, idea, or object), as in anticipation of a future loss

summary: if one thing was clear to you when you first met Jeon Jungkook, it was that he would never love you. at least, not the way you wanted him to.

pairing: jjk x reader genre: unrequited love au || angst || a bit of fluff || drabble series word count: 3.5k parts: « previous | 3 / ? | next » cw: none this chap, i think. maybe it’s a bit less angsty than the ones before. note: this chap (is rlly crap i APOLOGIZE) was meant to include another scene,, but idk how to write!!! properly!!! and the first scene got outta hand so :(( here it is. the next part i rotated for it to be on the next update. im so sorry it took long,, id rather not get into the personal specifics about it but i got bad writers block at certain points and just. didnt get to finish it for my own deadline 🥺 & im still developing my writing so please!! if anyone feels like something is off/like it dragged on for too long (which is what i felt), etc, etc please let me know. also i haven’t checked for mistakes so sfhdk there’s that aha

The last few days were hectic, with finals approaching and your mind on absolute overdrive. Your Intro to Thermal Physics course was biting you in the ass, which you had felt oddly thankful for. With no time to think about Jungkook or the girl in his painting, the hours blurred themselves into a continuous loop of exhaustion and academic focus: wake up, go to class, study, sleep, rinse and repeat. You’ve even gone as far as seeking out Hoseok, your astronomy lab partner and the busiest bastard you’ve ever met, to have extended study sessions within the Atrium’s library. The mixed efforts of passing the course with flying colors, and avoiding all trace to your fuckboy crush, had so far been a success—in some ways more than others.

Time spent around any hall (either within the dorms or elsewhere in the university) was minimally reduced to avoid any lingering shadows in the corners of your eyes, while each study session left you feeling more confident. Effective, convenient. Two birds, one worm. Yes, worm.

Two mouths, shared crumbs though. Your extreme devotion to the books had, after all, demanded social sacrifice.

You haven’t seen Tae nor Joon—nor any of the other boys in days, and while you aren’t ignoring them per se, they likely know why you were behaving the way you did up until yesterday.

That night, after dinner and after dark, Taehyung had found you with your face buried in his favorite pillow, with droopy eyes and a soft pout etched onto your lips. You didn’t need to tell him about your crush, nor did you have to speak. All he needed was a look at you, a single glance, for him to decide you needed his comfort but also some space.

But apparently enough was enough, and your presence was pointedly demanded the very minute after you handed in your last exam. The day of the week —Thursday— was thus dubbed “Movie-Theather-Night” effective immediately, so he said.

That’s why currently you find yourself staring at Jimin’s front door, phone held tight between your fingers. Tae told you he was already, conveniently, near the ticket stand so he would “obviously” buy the tickets in advance. That left you with the other side quest he couldn’t complete, which you blindly agreed to do.

Your job is simple: grab Jimin —yes, the little one with a penchant for lateness— and meet up with Tae before 7.

Swallowing a groan, you pointedly stared up at the imaginary heavens beyond the building’s ceiling. Praying it be on your side for a few hours longer at least, you tuck away your phone (Tae’s mild threat about stealing Jimin’s rings if the latter didn’t hurry getting dressed completely unnoticed by you), knock on the door by mere habit, and go in.

You don’t expect the loud moans, you really don’t.

Jimin’s name gets stuck halfway past your throat as the high-pitched whines continue pouring over the living room, stiffening your shoulders and rooting your legs to the floor just a step inside the flat—just enough for the door to close itself shut. It isn’t even loud enough to cover the sounds either. Your ears turn red in a heartbeat, embarrassment tugging your lips into a frown, when you note the timbre of low, soft grunts you know belong to one guy. They hide behind and below the higher pitched ones, but you somehow pick them up nonetheless.

They don’t last long. Or maybe time goes by alarmingly fast when you zone out, because not two, three minutes later, one of the muffled voices scoffs out in discontent, dulcet tones all gone.

“What? Now?” you hear, feeling the disbelief permeating the air along with underlying disappointment. “But I thought—”

The sudden thud of a door slamming open makes you jump, startling you into partial motion before the girl rushing out the hallway catches you like a deer in headlights.

You hate how quickly you notice that she’s not the girl from Jungkook’s painting. And it’s hard not to feel guilty when your heart quickens its pace at the idea that maybe both of them are nothing more than victims of his ways. Actually, you hope for it, because you can’t help but feel it’s equally jarring to see one of his choices so soon, and so up close, right after he’s done with her. Her disheveled hair and bruised neck, the traces he’s left, almost distract you from the heated glare she sends your way for blocking the door. Almost.

You move out of her way when she tries pushing past you, leaving with a huff and as quickly as she appeared.

Suddenly, this movie-theater-night sidequest thing seems like a really bad idea. A very bad idea. You hate it here.

“J-jiminie?” you move near the hall, voice shaky in all ways you don’t want it to be. “I’m here, let’s go.”

“Just a second! There’s finally some goddamn silence—”

His muffled voice carries over from your left, closer than the door of his room. You briefly debate waiting for him there, the aspect of continuing your naturally cryptic tendencies very seductive. On the other hand, you could raid his pantry for any and all m&ms, which sounds far more soothing to your rumbling stomach.

Decided entirely on candy—Taehyung would definitely enjoy mixing it with the bucket of popcorn he never fails to buy—and maybe some food, you turn around only to collide with something, hard.

The start of what sounds like a “boo!” trails to a low grunt upon impact. It drowns out your sharp gasp, and if it weren’t for the hands grabbing you by the elbows you’d have likely lost your footing entirely.

“Oh—shit”

Jungkook’s wide eyes and o-shaped lips greet you full force, his cheeks a soft pink hue you’ve been missing lately. They don’t exactly match the deeper flush painting you from ear to ear, your reactions to him far less graceful when so near in proximity. You can’t even speak, too enthralled by the warmth of his hands, by how his eyes shift over your body in evident worry. The way his lips tremble into a frown makes you want to smooth them into out just to see his face light up like you’re more used to, but a look to his neck is more than enough to remind you what happened just minutes ago. Right.

“Hey, sorry, didn’t think you’d turn around so quickly, are you alright?” he asks, hands moving lower on your arms and eyes searching, as if he’s testing if you’re steady enough. Taking the chance, you quickly pull back and rip them altogether from his hold. His lips form a pout you don’t catch.

“Yea, I’m, uh…”

Your mouth runs dry when you let your eyes travel lower, along exposed ink, sun-kissed skin and hardened muscle you had never seen before. A faint stripe of hairs peeks out from behind his gray sweats, the sight enough to make your mind wonder how he looks lower underneath. Would he be as pretty as you imagine him to be?

Fuck. Typical. Just your luck.

Pushing the thought away, you will yourself to grimace and take a step back, away from his heat and onto clearer ground. It helps that the sudden scent lingering on him isn’t the most pleasant one.

“I’m fine, thanks. Wasn’t it laundry day yesterday?” you ask, a weak attempt to defy the heat spreading up your neck once you fully process his touch, and to hopefully derail whatever thoughts he likely just formed of you.

“What?” Jungkook looks down at himself with mild amusement, a smirk growing on his lips before his eyes bore into yours again. “Do you want me to wear a shirt? Do you not like what you see?”

Again. You hate it here.

You ignore the way your stomach tightens, hating that what he’s implying is right. A part of you does, undeniably, like seeing his skin, you can’t deny that to yourself. But for all of that, an even bigger part of you exists that simply does not. Not when your head swims with the overwhelming idea of getting rid of the dot on his collarbone, be it by hiding it through makeup or painting it a deeper hue of violet all on your own. And much less when the smell of sex gets more distinct each passing second, making you scrunch your nose in distaste.

“No,” you grumble, crossing your arms and making your way past him and towards the kitchen.

“No you don’t want me to wear a shirt?” he counters, tilting his head to the side, round eyes faking innocence a few steps behind you.

You whip your head around without thinking, cheeks pink and eyebrows knitted together in annoyance as an unthought retort makes its way to your throat. Before you can say anything in return, though, he’s already grinning at your flustered state.

“I’m kidding,“ he laughs, “You’re just easy to tease, Y/N, sorry. I was going to go shower but apparently hyung’s still in there, and I haven’t seen you in a while, so."

That last bit goes completely over your head. ’Still’ is definitely worrying, but you’d rather not know how long he’s been there in total.

"Do you think he’ll be there for more than 10?” you ask, briefly looking at the clock and doing some math. If it’s 6:27 he has exactly 10 minutes to finish. Since the ride to the theater takes around 15 minutes, let’s say 5 is spent on parking, then you’d have exactly 3 minutes to find Tae before the clock strikes 7:00.

“Hopefully not, but who knows.”

“Very reassuring,” you deadpan. It comes out halfheartedly, your focus now on finding the candy stash they keep in the corner cabinet of their kitchen.

Jungkook trains his gaze on your shorter frame when you set your attention on the upper shelf, noticing your confusion at the sight of all the snacks up there. Grabbing a mini bottle of milk from the fridge, he watches on with amusement as you get on your tippy toes, hand trying and failing to grasp the giant yellow bag of m&m’s you’re determined to steal. Before today he’d wondered why Jimin keeps on buying two bags when the shorter strictly eats the peanut-less ones, and when Yoongi doesn’t even eat sweets, but now it makes more sense to him. He vaguely remembers you eating his bag without knowing it was his. Not that he ever corrected you.

Clearly, your struggles are new to you. The peanut m&ms were always on the bottom shelf, always. You had no clue the others decided just last week to stash the dorm’s snacks somewhere more unreachable, mostly so it’s partially forgotten and not inhaled in a single day as compared to how it’s been until then.

Exasperation reveals itself on your clenched jaw and dramatic pout, but just when you’re about to climb the counter, a pair of warm hands anchor themselves to your waist and joist you upwards.

“W-whoa, hey— w,what are you doing?” Your breath hitches and squeaks as you tense, unused to the touch but trying to work on automatic as warning signals immediately start to blare red.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Some of his warmth spreads through the thin fabric of the shirt you’re wearing, giving you goosebumps and speeding up your pulse. “I should be the one with questions, you shorty. Like, is there a reason you’re stealing our m&m’s?” Jungkook asks, tone light and in total contrast to the hot breath you feel against your back. It ignites a shiver to run down your spine, no permission given. Honestly, you’re surprised you hear him over the pulse continuously pounding in your ears.

“Is there a reason you’re helping me steal your m&m’s?” You counter with a mumble, voice small despite your tries to seem unbothered. Holding onto the wooden cabinets for some stability, you snatch up the bag.

Below you Jungkook drags out a hum as if he’s thinking it through, but with his chest millimeters from your back you can feel the subtle vibrations. You want to scream. Shovel it, Y/N. Shovel it.

“Eh, I don’t mind sharing food in times of need.”

“How do you—is it my dark circles? Do they look that bad?” After Tae’s message you had gone straight for a shower and a fresh change of clothes. Makeup had never been a source of comfort, and today was no different.

“Um…”

Peering down with the full intent of adding that he can bring you down now, you catch a glimpse of the fading marks on his knuckles seconds before his grip tightens around your waist. If Jungkook manages to hear your weak whimper he says nothing. He simply lowers you gently and without command, muscles flexing but no complaints of your weight present.

“Thanks,” you add, turning to face him but rooting yourself to the spot instead of following his touch like you want to do. There’s only so much you can take before all that’s left is to crumble, and you deny to let yourself seem that weak. It’s not like you’ve changed your mind regarding your crush, after all. The quicker you forget about it, the better. The more you suppress it, the easier it will be to forget. Right? “For the lift, I mean, and for allowing my petty crime.”

The fact that you find Jungkook halfway towards the island counter, mere seconds after he lets go, stays in the front of your mind. The distance between you two grows back to the one you’re used to faster than you expect.

“Y'welcome,” he says, words slurred together as his accent shows and that toothy, bunny smile of his gets shot your way. It’s blatantly infuriating how easily he manages to make your erratic heart thud, thud, thud. But you swallow the truth, suppress how you’ve long to see every little thing he keeps on doing. “And nah, you should’ve seen Yoongi hyung this morning. Still look exhausted though. When do you finish?”

“Today—”

Jungkook blinks. “Already?”

“—Mhm. Which is why Taetae wants to hang out, and why I need these,” you motion for the bag cradled in your arms as if it were your very own child—as if you’d ever want any. The small space on the counter becomes your new seat, feet swaying anxiously with each second Jimin doesn’t come out.

“Let me guess. Movies?” he asks, eyes starry as he slurps the remaining liquid from his bottle and extends an arm your way. You get the gist of what he wants when he makes grabby hands. He looks adorable, but the way his bare torso keeps on making your stomach flip and sink at any given glimpse tells you he’s actually at his most dangerous.

You simply nod, letting him grab some m&ms from your bag before you can come to regret it.

“Which one?”

“I… dunno yet,” you confess, head tilting. “It’s his turn to choose.” Truthfully, the question hadn’t come up. Movie sessions at the dorms always consist of rotating turns: one week him, one week Jimin, one week you. Considering Tae hadn’t even mentioned the name, you take it he’s claiming his turn. It’s been ages since you’ve been to the theater, as well, so no new or specific titles of your choice come to mind.

Sometimes it baffles Jungkook that he doesn’t really know how much time you spend with his friends. Tough maybe less when he met you first, lately whenever you’re available he’s busy trying to finish his latest piece, or getting x or y homework done with, or waiting for inspiration to strike, or de-stressing through a good fuck or some exercise. Or at least he thinks so. Whether you’re busy with astrophysics or something else he doesn’t ask, he only knows you’re often not there. So whenever he hears about you from his hyungs, he wonders just how close you’ve gotten to the most important people in his life, while completely skipping over his radar.

“Oh? ” he hums, mildly interested but unable to say or do much else besides munch.

An idea begins to play in your head as you pop a blue in your mouth, the recurring invite repeating itself like a broken record stuck in repeat, waiting to be talked about. Would he even want to go with you guys? Part of you figures he doesn’t, that he’s likely preoccupied with matters unknown to you so there’s no point in asking. The other half tells you to try anyway, that maybe officializing a… deeper friendship —if you had one in the first place— might be just what you need. To take him off the pedestal your heart built for him, to know a more real side of him, if he ever allows it.

“Hey, Jungkook? Would—”

“Incoming”

Your tongue gets tied to your throat the second Widowmaker’s voice travels around the kitchen, resounding loudly from whereyou guess is his pocket.

Jungkook gives you a sheepish look as he takes his phone out, a sorry halfway past his lips when his eyes catch the screen. He’s so entranced by whatever is catching his attention that his voice loses all volume. By the way his head suddenly cocks to the side, you know he’s either feeling challenged or having his ego massively stroked, but you can’t quite place the flush faintly covering his cheekbones.

Another apology tries leaving him when he notices your waiting stare, his fingers hurriedly tapping at his screen. But it’s a useless effort, since he’s cut off again, this time by ringtone.

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to answer, a slight smirk of his in place. You can’t help but squirm and look away.

“Gimme a sec babe—no I’m not, just give me—”

Oh.

The way his tone changes, the way his eyes glaze in less than a heartbeat, him. You drown it all out, drown him out. You don’t need this right now, or so soon, or at all.

As if knowing you need a saviour and a distraction, your forgotten phone begins to play Tae’s chosen ringtone. The clock reads 6:36 pm.

“Oh, fuck.” Scrambling, you pocket the bag of chocolates and stand up in a hurry.

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook calls from his seat. You see his phone pressed to his chest, as to muffle your conversation from being heard, or to ignore the loud voice still finding a way to be heard over his own. “What did you want to ask me?”

But it’s then that Jimin barrels out of the bathroom, loud and striking as if a new form of thunder. And like thunder, you hear his voice before his body.

“I’M DONE, Y/NNNNNN LET’S GOOoooo!"

His voice dies out the closer he gets to you, a confused sound replacing his words at the sight of his roommate. It’s clear he didn’t expect to find you and Jungkook in the same room, presumably… interacting.

Turning to the youngest, you offer a halfhearted shrug and an easy lie. "I kinda forgot already, sorry."

If he replies, you don’t know. You don’t register Jimin’s confused "huh? forgot what?” either. Tae’s call had gone to voicemail amidst all the noise, so you have to do damage control.

As expected, he picks up after the first ring. “Y/n?"

"Is that Tae?” Jimin suddenly asks, head whipping your way. His tiny hands reach for your phone without your confirmation, making you twist away to evade his wiggling fingers. t’s as if he somehow knows it’s his friend despite not being able to hear his voice, nor you giving any indication. “Kim Taehyung! Why aren’t you picking up my—”

“Hyung, can you lower your voice?” Jungkook calls from somewhere in the background, a bit exasperated at the commotion.

Your head hurts. Why couldn’t they both shut up?

“Hey, Jimin’s with me already, we’ll be on our way.”

“Ya, Jungkook, are you really asking me that? Just go talk somewhere else! And what are you doing without a shirt on? I told you not to harass Y/N.”

You can hear Taehyung whining from the other end of the line. Honestly, you missed it, missed him. “You haven’t left? Is that Jungkook? Why are you still in the dorms?”

“What? I didn’t do anything! If you didn’t take so long in the bathroom—wait—” a timbre shift. He’s not talking to Jimin anymore. “Did you really just disobey me?"

“Disgusting…” Jimin huffs from besides you, annoyed and equally embarrassed by his roommate’s lack of shame. It’s exactly what he needs to move into action, bidding the boy farewell with a simple “just behave while I’m gone.”

You can only roll your eyes at the background exchange, ignoring, ignoring, ignoring. "No, yes, and I’ve no idea why but we’re leaving now,” you answer. Jimin’s smaller hand grabs yours before you finish speaking, pulling you along until you fall into steps behind him. “Plus I bring m&ms so that’s a win.”

You don’t catch Jungkook’s warm see you later!, too caught up with Tae’s praise over your choice of chocolate and the rush to go once and for all.

And that’s okay. You wouldn’t have been able to answer, anyway. Not with the growing uncertainty in your chest.

Would a friendship with him be worth the impending heartache? Could you put yourself through that before you push your own feelings away?

Maybe you aren’t ready just yet.

#jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts fanfiction #drabble series: dct

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colourful-void · 4 years

Text

Hope’s Peak AU General Outfit Headcanons

It’s more au!!!!!! I was really tired while writing this and it probably shows. If I missed anyone lemme know! I think I missed someone from v3 but I'm not sure who. If people are interested in the dr3 characters beyond Ryouta, I can add on to this post. Lemme know!

As a general rule, any special events that require uniforms (graduation, entrance ceremony, etc) will have most students wearing uniforms. It’s important to note that while Hope’s Peak has a uniform (the same ones seen in the dr3 anime) there is no dress code. You can buy a uniform in the school store, but they aren’t at all mandatory, and so Hope’s Peak Students can wear Literally Whatever They Want. So you don’t have to wear the uniform for your agab, you can wear a halloween costume everyday, pj’s everyday, really the only rule is that if you would get arrested for wearing it on the street, you probably shouldn’t be wearing it here, and you need to be wearing something.

(I’ll also mention free time a bunch in this post, which is just whenever the students aren’t in class. I’ll explain the daytime/nighttime and class time/ free time schedule in a later post)

Long post, so details on each character underneath the cut! =)

[Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc]

Makoto: wears his outfit from THH, but the pants are the uniform and the jacket is the uniform. during free time he’s just in hoodies in jackets. He gets cold easy.

Sayaka: wears the uniform, she thinks it’s cute. Has hair clips/hairbands to accessorize. wears cute and trendy clothes!

Leon: doesn’t wear the uniform. Wears whatever was closest lying on the floor.

Chihiro: wears the uniform, but sometimes with her in game skirt instead of the uniform skirt. some of the other girls took her shopping for dresses and skirts and she loves all those outfits and wears them all the time! =)

Mondo: wears the uniform, but not the tie, and has his shirt unbuttoned in that delinquent way most of the time. Sometimes Taka will through a tie on him, though loosely tied. (Mondo doesn’t like things restraining his neck)

Kiyotaka: are you kidding he wears the uniform religiously. He’s never seen in anything else. Even after class hours, on weekends, over break, he’s wearing it. Some of the under (and upper) classmen wonder if he even owns other clothes.

Hifumi: owns a uniform. Usually wears it, but sometimes he just comes in pyjama’s.

Celeste: never. She’s not even wearing it in the pictures from THH, she’s probably never even touched a uniform. She’s committed to the aesthetic. dresses all the time.

Sakura: wears it everyday, but only during school hours. wears stretchy workout clothes normally.

Mukuro: wears the uniform, though she’s modified it so the neck is looser, and there are lots of hidden pockets for weapons. She also made her skirt longer. she also has a bulletproof vest she wears both during and after classes. shes got leggings with hidden pockets.

Junko: also wears a modified uniform, with extra pockets, and a shorter skirt. She also has her tie from THH, and her THH skirt. Keeps her Monokuma Hairclips.

Aoi: More likely to be wearing her gym uniform or other work out clothes with the hope’s peak logo on them than the actual uniform, but staff will take what they can get.

Hagakure: doesn’t wear it.

Touko: wears the uniform, but Syo doesn’t. Syo just wears whatever, so if she’s in control when getting dressed, she’ll probably just wear whatever she can find. She doesn’t care if its clean, ripped, etc.

Byakuya: The Great Byakuya Togami has better quality clothes than the hope’s peak uniform, but will wear it when requested by Makoto, or at any school events where he wants to look part of the class or something. (School fair, stuff like that)

Kyouko: wears the uniform. It makes her dad happy.

[Ultra Despair Girls]

Komaru: Doesn’t go to Hope’s Peak, but wears the uniform for her own school.

All the warriors do not wear uniforms. I don’t think that Hope’s Peak Elementary has a uniform. They wear their in game things. Except Jataro, who wears an allergy face mask instead of his in game mask.

[Super Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair]

Hajime: Wears the Uniform, though usually not the jacket. He’ll keep it with him, but hang it on chairs or something. If he’s wearing the jacket either Izuru is in control, Hajime is cold, or he’s at a formal event.

Imposter: they’ll follow the outfit choices including uniform of whoever they’re impersonating, they are Dedicated.

Teruteru: doesn’t wear the uniform. Is always wearing a chef’s outfit. He didn’t wear it in dr3, he won’t wear it here.

Koizumi: Wears the uniform during class hours, wears simple dresses and overalls during freetime.

Peko: wears her uniform most of the time, though does own and wear casual clothes. She’ll usually wear those around her own room though, and she has little dresses she’ll wear on outings or on dates

Ibuki: it’s debated if Ibuki even owns a Hope’s Peak uniform. She’ll wear whatever she feels like, which means you may see her in a full suit, a ballgown, a tracksuit, her gym uniform, or a uniform for a school thats she’s never been to, and you can never tell what it may be. She is pretty fond of neon colours though, so typically she’s wearing really bright colours and casual clothes. She also ties her hair up different constantly, with no rhyme or reason other than ‘she felt like it’. She looks like Haruhi in that one opening scene to The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzimiya.

Hiyoko: shes still wearing kimonos and she still cant tie them

Mikan: she wears the uniform most of the time, and casual clothes when it’s not class time. Her uniform has been modified for her by Tsumugi, to make the skirt longer. Her casual clothes are nice skirts, leggings and long sleeved shirts.

Nekomaru: He wears the uniform most of the time, and track suits/ his in game clothes during free times.

Gundham: wears the uniform during school hours, and his in game clothes during free time. However, he always has his scarf and arm wrap.

Komaeda: wears the uniform, but has his little sweater vest thing. Basically what he looked like in 2.5. His hair has a touch more colour to it though, and there’s brown starting to come in at the roots by his 3rd year. During free time he wears his jacket from the game.

Chiaki: same clothes as dr3 during classes. Will wear anime graphic tees and hoodies when she’s not in class.

Fuyuhiko: Guess what it’s his vest from 2.5, I’m sorry it’s getting repetitive but canon did alright with outfits in some places and I’m not gonna fix whats not broken.

Sonia: Sonia loves the hope’s peak uniform. She wears it often, but she does have some casual dresses for when shes not in class. A note I will make, Sonia is way more practical about her hair in this au because I refuse to believe that someone like Sonia would have hair that long and not tie it up. She wears high ponytails and her braid crown from the game, and is happy to try different hair styles, such as braids or buns.

Souda: “wow souda, how come your mom lets you have two jumpsuits?” also teeshirts and basketball shorts.

Akane: wears the uniform, but also gym clothes on the regular. sometimes she wears oversized teeshirts, and general work out clothes.

(Im putting Ryota here because I’m lazy)

Ryota: wears the uniform during class, and oversized hoodies when class is over.

[New Danganronpa V3: Everyone’s New Semester of Killing]

Shuuichi: wears the uniform. He also has his hat. He wore it a lot in first year, and slowly grew to wear it less. Now he wears it sometimes, but not always! When he feels like it.

Rantaro: wears the uniform, and his normal clothes when school hours are over. He’s got a laid back style of dress that matches his personality

Kaede: she wears the uniform and she’s very happy about it! Her casual clothes look like a uniform, they’re very preppy. Sweater vests and pleated skirts.

Hoshi: wears the uniform but replaced the normal jacket with his leather one, and his in game clothes when he’s not in class.

Kirumi: she’s wearing the uniform the majority of the time, even when class is over, since it makes her more recognizable to the other students. She keeps the gloves though. Students are Messy.

Angie: Ok previously I said she didn’t wear the uniform, but then I started drawing her in the uniform and I changed my mind. She wears her raincoat instead of the jacket and ties off the end of her shirt to show her stomach, like Brittney Spears. She has no clue who Brittney is, she just tied it like that to show off her piercings. Keeps the uniform skirt, has art supplies tucked into every pocket she’s got.

Tenko: wears the boys uniform actually! All uniforms offer equal mobility and she likes that uniform better. The dress code is like non existent, so no one cares. When she’s not in class, she might wear skirts or pants, she doesn’t really care. So long as it offers good mobility for kicking degenerates.

Korekiyo: wears the uniform and his in game outfit. Keeps the mask.

Miu: doesn’t wear the uniform, keeping her in game clothes. She also has some other clothes, almost all of which have swear words on them, or pants with things written on the seat of them. Good thing hope’s peak doesn’t have a dress code!

Gonta: gonta is a gentleman who wears the uniform with pride!

Kokichi: now with Kokichi it depends. Most day’s he’ll wear casual clothes, like hoodies and jeans. On good days/ days he’s particularly excited, he’ll wear his Dice costume from his art. If he’s not having a good day, he’ll wear the uniform. So far the only people who have caught on to this pattern are Sonia and Shuuichi. No matter what he’s wearing his scarf. If he ever came to class without it, Shuuichi/Sonia would probably pull him out of class in a panic to ask what was wrong. Beyond that, he’s got a bunch of hair clips he’ll wear sometimes, as well as rings and bracelets. His favourite bracelet is a bunch of purple glass beads that make a satisfying noise when he shakes his hands.

Kaito: He replaced his uniform coat with his purple coat. He is always wearing that coat. He also has JAXA shirts and other space themed clothes

Kiibo: for a while he didn’t have a uniform because.. well he’s a robot he doesn’t need one. But after he told Kiyotaka he wanted one, Taka gave him one, and now he wears it a bunch! It makes him very happy. When he’s not in class though he usually doesn’t wear it since he doesn’t want it getting dirty.

Tsumugi: Tsumugi made a lot of alterations to her uniform to make it ‘cuter’. Sometimes she’ll just come to class in different uniforms for various anime characters. As someone who sometimes just wears cosplay on a normal day and who goes to cons, there is something fantastic about seeing someone in cosplay doing mundane things, and thats what Tsumugi looks like near constantly. she’d rather have other people wear them, but ‘if no one else will wear them, I will!’and it makes good advertising. Also cosplay is fun!

Maki: Joining the modified uniform gang, also with pockets for knives and things. Also has a longer skirt. She braids her hair sometimes, because I can verify from experience that hair like Maki’s would be super inconvenient and get in the way.

Himiko: she’ll usually wear the uniform, but if she’s feeling lazy/tired/depressed, she might just come to class in pj’s. Same thing for free times.

I think that’s everyone! lemme know if I missed anything, or you’ve got thoughts/things u wanna share! Thanks for reading this all!

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mrsmbarnes · 4 years

Text

First Time

Parings: Buckyxreader

Summary: Your first time with Bucky

Warnings: Fluff and Smut

I have decided not to drink but having the evening that I just had, a drink was warranted. The boys had been fighting, arguing over something inconsequential, which turned into a, mine is bigger than yours contest. It was infuriating listening to them, in a drunken stupor, talking over the same points and getting nowhere. Stark’s parties always ended like this and I would normally disappear somewhere at the beginning of the arguing to some small corner to read. Unfortunately I was squished in-between Thor and Steve, and if I got up to leave it would be all too noticeable. So instead I decided to get up and get myself a drink. Drinking doesn’t normally go well for me but I couldn’t handle listening to the any longer.

“Hey Y/N, you mind tossing me a beer,” Bucky shouted at you over the heated debate.

“Why don’t you come and get it yourself, I’m not a fucking waitress,” I call back

He makes his way over to the bar giving me a longing glance. I knew Steve was his best friend but I was a close second. When ever they fought like this I turned into a bitch, taking out my frustrations on anyone who bothered to speak to me.

“Damn, doll, I’m sorry I offended you,” he said grabbing a beer. I grabbed a shot glass and poured my self a shot. It burned sliding down my throat but I could feel the heat warming me into a better mood.

“I’m sorry I’m not mad at you, its just when these idiots get going about absolutely nothing it just really pisses me off.”

He reaches over me to grab a napkin, and I can feel the weight of his member from inside his jeans on my leg.

“They’re all idiots, but just promise me you won’t drink too much.”

“Sure thing,” I say sarcastically. I watch him walk back over to the rest of the company. This evening he had dawned jeans and a button up with the sleeves rolled up revealing his bulging forearms. Whenever he was in public he would normally wear long sleeves to cover his metal arm, but when he was with us he did’t mind to roll them up. As the evening wore on, I took several more shots, becoming more loose. The boys had finally started to calm down and people where heading home for the evening.

“Somebody needs to get her home,” said Stark.

“I’m not drunk, bitch. I can get myself home,” I said in confidence. I stood from the barstool I had been planted in and the second I stepped away, I went towering towards the ground. Several strong hands swooped in to catch my but by the end, I was in Bucky’s arms.

“I’ll put her in a cab and make sure she makes it home.”

“And then where going to have sex” I say, far too drunk to be embarrassed. Bucky on the other hand was the deepest shade of red I had ever seen him.

“Yeah, Barnes take the girl home,” said Thor with a wink.

“Here on Earth we don’t usually take girls unable to to stand home with us,” says Tony with a grin.

“I’m just going to drop her off and then someone else can go check on her in the morning” says Bucky. I burry my face into his neck and smell his hair.

Next thing I know we are in a cab heading towards my apartment. I don’t remember getting to the cab but now that we are in there I’m feeling really queasy. I’m laying with my head in Bucky’s lap.

“Bucky, I need you to get him to stop the cab, like now” I say in a panicked tone. The cab stops but not before I barf out the open side door and all down Bucky’s pant leg.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” I mutter finally able to feel embarrassed, but not before I can puke again. Bucky just patiently holds my hair back and redirects the cab to his address. When we arrive, he scoops me up and carries me inside. He places me gently on the couch and goes to the bathroom. He brings me the wastebasket and goes to get me a glass of water. Then he leaves me to go to shower and clean himself off. I’m starting to feel better so I go to his room looking for a t-shirt or something I can wear. When I nudge to door open, Bucky whips around in his towel.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you where still in the shower,” I say turning around.

“It’s ok, do you need something?” He asks sounding slightly amused at my embarrassment.

“I was just looking for a t-shirt to wear, my dress got dirty.”

“Here,” you turn back around as he hands me a shirt and I realize that he hasn’t made an effort to cover himself. My heart is pounding so loud that I’m sure he can hear it. Beads of water are bounding down his chest from his damp hair and I realize how much I want to reach out and tough him, how I much I want him to touch me. So I stand there hoping and praying he will bridge the gap between us and take me.

“I can’t get the zipper on my own, can you help me?” I whisper, prompting him to walk towards me. As he reaches for my zipper I can feel his cock resting against my backside, remembering how it had felt in his jeans earlier this evening. The cool metal of his fingers wrestling with my zipper made my breathing speed up.

“Thanks,” I get out in a breathy sigh. He moves to put his lips on my neck kissing me softly. I turn around to face him as he continues to kiss my neck.

“We shouldn’t do this,” I say quietly. “I mean, I can’t do this.”

“Its ok,” he say pulling way. “If you don’t want to we don’t have to” he says with disappointment in his eyes. He’s so gentle with me not knowing what he did wrong, or why I don’t want to.

“It’s not that I don’t, want to, it just that I don’t know how” I say looking at the ground. I had never been with a man before but I knew if there was a man I wanted to be with, it was James Buchanan Barnes.

“What do you mean, you don’t know how too?” He asked.

I kept my eyes on the ground, but he grabbed my chin and lifted it gently to meet his eyes.

“You’ve never had sex before? Like never ever?” He said catching on.

“No, I just haven’t met the right person.” I say almost in audibly.

“I don’t know if I’m the right person…” he trails off, suddenly becoming insecure. He never felt like he could be worthy of anyones love after all of the stuff he had done as the Winter Soldier, but he was just a man. Now it was my turn to be brave and make him feel like he is was my whole world and like every moment with him made my heart ache and long for more.

“I know you are the right person, or I wouldn’t be doing this,” I say taking his hand, leading him to the edge of the bed. I slowly reached down to pull my dress off revealing my black underwear and bra. The he reached over taking my face in his hands and kissed me. It started as a sweet and gentle kissing but it turning hot and breathless. He put his metal hand on my back, laying me down in the bead. The cool metal against my hot skin sent a shiver down my spine. He gently grabbed the band of my bra and unhooked it leaving me completely exposed. He sat up taking in the sight if me.

“You’re gorgeous doll” he’s says, before he takes one of my breasts in his hand.

A tingling of desire runs through out me as he continues to kiss me while massaging my breasts. He kisses me on my mouth then trails a kiss down my neck then on to my nipple, sucking and teasing. The continues to kiss me down my stomach, stopping at my panties. The rest of me no longer exists, only the places he has kissed me.

“Is it ok if it keep going?” He asks

“Oh, I’m think I’m ready” I prompt him on. He hooks his thumbs around the band of my panties, pulling them down slowly.

“Wait,” I say, having him stop. He brings his head to rest on mine and I stare into his ice blue eyes. Im already panting so hard in anticipation and I nod, giving him the go ahead.

“I trust you” I say as he reaches his hand down. I’m already so wet just waiting for him. He slides one finger in making me gasp. He moves his finger over my clits slowly while pumping his finger in and out. He keeps on while kissing me in rushed sloppy jolts. He ads another finger making me yell his name.

“Can I have a turn,” he asks removing his fingers and offering up himself.

“Yes, yes, yes” I pant out waiting for him to be inside me. He throws off his towel and grabs my hand. He places my hand on his hard cock, having me stroke it. Honestly the only thing running through my head is, “how is something that large going to fit in me.” He spreads my legs, kissing me on the thigh as he does. My legs are quaking and my stomach is notting with nerves. He lines him self with my entrance and the locks eyes with.

“This might be a little uncomfortable at first but if I’m hurting you, you stop me, alright” he says.

“I trust you”. I say intertwining my fingers in his. He kisses me and the pushes forward. At fist he doest move in very far but having him just staying in one position is killing me.

“You’ve got to move,” I say and then he starts to fall into a rhythm. It’s slow at first, with him being carful not to hurt me.

“God, you’re so tight. You feel so good.” He takes his metal hand and starts to finger your clit. The cold in sensation with the hurt has you screaming his name.

“Damn, Bucky, keep going.” I pant. He speeds up and I can feel it coming on.

“Are you going to cum?” He asks. All I can do is nod. My hands are holding on so tight to his shoulders that I think I might bruise them. I orgasm as he thrust into me, and now I know that is it my turn to get him there. I let him keep thrusting into me.

“I’m almost there, I’m going to cum inside you.” I lace my fingers into his and he keeps going, filling every bit of me.

“Shit, Y/N,” he says as he fills you. I bite down onto his shoulder. We lay there intertwined for what feels like forever. Then slowly he pulls out of me and rolls onto the bed. Silently he gets up and goes into the bathroom. He comes back silently with a washcloth and gently cleans me up. He does this all so quietly that I start to get nervous. I sat up.

“Hey I understand if it wasn’t as good for you as it was for me…” I started trailing off as I looked at the ground.

Bucky kneels down before me making me look at him, making me acknowledge him.

“Trust me doll, it was good for me. It was so good for me I’d like to do it again, with the super soldier serum, I’m good to go for a couple of rounds,” he says with a chuckle in his throat.

A tear slowly leaks down my cheek, and he take his thumb and wipes it away.

“We don’t have to do it again if you don’t want to,” he says trying to reassure you.

“No it’s not that, I just never thought we would get to this point. I’ve loved you for a long time and I didn’t think you would ever love me like this,” I say as more tears fall on my lap.

“Well hell doll if I had known that you had loved me, I would have taken you to bed long ago,” he say taking my face in his hands and kissing me once again. He pulls away.

“I guess I’ll have to thank the guys for making you spill you guts, both literally and metaphorically,” he says as he laughs into your kiss.

“Well I am new to this, but I think I’m ready for another round,” I say.

“Thank God doll because I love you”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel #james buchanan barnes

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