#I’m reading all your reblogs and I feel good! Thank you :^D | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

navybrat817 · 4 months

Text

Indulgence

Pairing: Dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub!Female Reader Summary: When Bucky calls, you go to him. Word Count: Over 5.7k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, D/s elements, bondage, aftercare, established arrangement, insecurities, pet names, longing, possessive behavior, world building, mix of canon and non-canon, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I'm very excited for this new AU, lovelies! There's a deep bond between these two, but we know the road to love isn't always easy. ❤️Beta read by the amazing @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. And thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me ramble about this part. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You had only been asleep for an hour when your phone went off, your eyes barely open as you reached for the device and saw the familiar name appear. “Bucky?” You answered drowsily.

“Hey, angel,” he said roughly, the pet name bringing a sleepy smile to your face. It sounded like he hadn't gotten much sleep either. “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“It’s okay. I have tomorrow off,” you said, a bit more alert as you sat up. “Are you at your apartment?”

“Yeah, I got back a bit ago,” he replied, swearing under his breath. “It’s really late. I just…”

“Need me,” you finished for him, stretching your back as you stood up. If he wanted to tell you he made it home safely from his latest assignment, he would've sent you a text. You knew by now that a call meant he had to see you in person. “Give me a few minutes?”

“You sure? I understand if you’d rather go back to bed.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep until I know you will, too,” you said. It would drive you crazy. “I want to come over. Okay?”

You wondered if the call dropped since you didn't hear anything on the other end. “Okay. I’ll send a car,” he said. He never let you pay for a ride yourself. “Thank you,” he added so softly you almost missed it.

“You don't need to thank me,” you assured him, though you appreciated hearing it. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he promised, your heart skipping a beat before he hung up.

You brushed your teeth again before you changed out of your pajamas. The outfit didn't exactly matter. If it had, he would’ve told you what you wear. It wouldn't stay on long anyway. You sensed that this was a night for him to simply blow off some steam or release anything still pent up from his assignment.

You were more than happy to help.

“On my way.” You messaged him a few minutes later as you went out to the car.

You politely greeted the driver before gazing out the window. If anyone had told you months ago that you’d be sleeping with the former Winter Soldier, you would’ve laughed at them for saying something so crazy. You never expected to meet the man, let alone connect with him. That was your life now though. You were sleeping with Bucky Barnes.

But it wasn't that cut and dry.

“I’ll be outside.” He sent back.

You smiled to yourself as you thought about Bucky, the man searching for himself again. After years of enduring horrific pain and having no control over his actions, he felt lost once he was free. In his eyes, he would never be able to right all the wrongs of the atrocities he was forced to commit, but making amends for his past was a start. It wasn't enough though to heal the cracks from within. It couldn't stop him from plunging into the deep abyss of his mind where it once felt whole.

He had to find a way to feel semi-normal again. He needed to do something good for someone else outside of his heroic duties. And he had to do so in an environment where he could express himself openly, honestly, and authentically with a person he could trust.

That was where you came into the picture.

If Bucky called, no matter what time of day and you were available, you went to his place in a car he paid for. You stayed until you were both satisfied. A more crude way to think of it was that you helped him fuck out his frustrations and gave him a means to inflict pleasure on someone instead of hurt. It was a routine you were used to by now.

“You wanna be my angel?”

You may be his angel, but you weren't his girlfriend. He wasn't in a place to have a typical relationship. You weren't just a fuck buddy either. You were his submissive of sorts, along with his confidant and a way for him to find release and some sense of normalcy.

While he sometimes fucked you like a whore, he never once treated you like one. He cared for your well-being and checked in on you the way a boyfriend would. He kept his place stocked with your favorite snacks. You didn't sleep with anyone else and neither did he. You looked out for each other.

Unlike your last boyfriend.

As far as arrangements went, you could do much worse. There were rules set in place. Bucky was honest about his needs and helped you heal your wounds from the failure of your previous relationship. But the more time you spent with him, the more you wanted to be with him.

Was it a recipe for disaster?

The drive seemed faster than usual because before you knew it the car stopped in front of Bucky’s apartment building. Your pulse quickened when you saw the brunette standing by the door, donned in his usual leather jacket. Even from a short distance, he looked massive and heat bloomed in your core as you knew what was to come. He moved to the curb with more grace than a man his size should have, his hard blue eyes set on you through the glass before he opened the door.

His gaze practically set your heart on fire and it went full ablaze when he tenderly smiled. He was stunningly beautiful even in the dark of night. It almost hurt to look back at him.

You had it bad.

“Hey,” he said, offering you his gloved hand to help you out. You hardly ever saw him out without his vibranium hand covered. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hey,” you smiled softly, giving the driver a quick thanks before you got out. “You, too.”

Bucky's large hand moved to the small of your back as he gently led you toward the building and opened the door. He didn't like to linger outside for too long. Neither of you spoke as he guided you to his apartment on the first floor and you didn't push him to make small talk. It was a delicate arrangement and some nights didn't call for filler.

Still, you tried to get a read on his emotions. There was a stiffness to his stance, but he didn't appear upset or angry. You also didn’t spot any obvious injuries.

“Were you hurt?” You asked as he took his keys out. He was only gone for a couple of days, but you knew how dangerous the missions were.

He turned and stared at you, not at all surprised by your question since you always asked. “No, I didn’t get hurt,” he assured you, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. “But I can't exactly talk about it either. I’m sorry.”

You nodded in understanding. It was information you weren't privy to and you doubted he called tonight to talk about it anyway. He peeled back layers of himself, yet there was so much underneath that you didn't know about. You cared for him regardless.

“Bucky, you don't have to apologize for that,” you reminded him.

“I just feel bad. You can tell me about your work, but I can't always talk about mine,” he said, looking both ways before he poked his head into his apartment.

“My job isn’t as ‘exciting’ as yours,” you teased before he let you in.

Bucky had a nice place. The partially exposed brick walls paired well with the hardwood floors. Tasteful, but not extravagant. The thick curtains in the living room matched the drapes in his bedroom. Since he occasionally slept on the floor by the oversized chair, it helped to block out the sun. He didn't have much as far as decor, but he did have a piece of art that his best friend, Steve, drew hung up in the hall.

He also had a bowl that you made on the console to hold his keys, which he promptly set them in.

It meant something that he even let you into his apartment when others close to him had never been invited.

“Need anything to drink?” He asked, slipping his jacket and glove off.

He had an empty glass waiting on the kitchen island in case you did. While you indulged in a drink now and then, he wouldn't allow you to have too many. He refused to have sex with you if you were inebriated. Said it took consent away and you wouldn't be alert enough to use a safeword if necessary.

He wouldn't budge on that rule.

“No, thanks,” you answered, gazing at him.

His T-shirt strained against his biceps, one flesh and one vibranium. You could still smell his cologne from the small distance across the room, amber and cedarwood. Warm, comforting, dominating. All the things he was to you.

Not the monster he sometimes believed himself to be.

You eyed him as he poured himself a shot of whiskey, the need to soothe him coming forward when you caught a distant look in his eyes. He didn't even make a move to down his drink as he set his hands on the counter and stared off. Maybe he couldn't give you the details about what happened, but you could take care of him.

Because as much as he sometimes had to have control over you, both of you had power in your relationship.

“Bucky?” You gently called out, pulling him from his trance. “You can talk to me, even if you have to keep some things to yourself.”

His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “Three months.”

“I'm sorry?”

“Three months since we started this,” he answered.

You realized he was right when you remembered the date. It felt longer yet still brand new. “Yeah. Three great months,” you smiled.

A knot formed in your stomach when he didn't smile back. “And you still feel safe with me?” He asked, gripping the counter so hard you thought it might crumble in his hands. “You really trust that I won’t hurt you?”

Your smile slipped, the questions like a punch to the gut as you walked toward him. You stopped a foot in front of him to give him some breathing room as he made eye contact. Where had that come from? What happened to make him question that?

“Of course, I feel safe. Not only do I feel safe with you and trust you, I know that you won't hurt me. You will always take care of me,” you said with fierce determination, yet with a vulnerability you couldn't hide. “If I didn't believe that, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t submit to you.”

You told him the same thing the day you two agreed on this arrangement. He wasn't your boyfriend, but he wasn't like your ex. He wouldn't just throw you away without a second thought or ignore your needs. You also had faith in him that he wouldn't harm you.

And as much as you trusted him, he trusted you that much more. If he didn't, he wouldn't have called you in the first place. That meant he still trusted himself around you.

He looked away and asked above a whisper, “Do you still think I'm a good man?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation, your heart aching when his jaw clenched. “Bucky, look at me, please.”

He slowly made eye contact with you, a storm swirling in his stare.

“You are a good man,” you stated, needing to reach the part of him that believed it. “And it doesn't matter how many times you ask me that, my answer isn't going to change. Ever.”

Bucky was silent, his breathing the only sound in the space. You were worried that you said the wrong thing before he pushed himself away from the counter. Instead of moving back when he approached, you stood firm, ready to brace the storm. You sometimes felt like a mouse confronted by a lion when he got close, but it sent a thrill through you. Because you meant what you said.

You trusted him and he made you feel safe.

“I just had to hear you say it,” he whispered as he cupped your face.

A fire lit within you as Bucky captured your mouth with his. There was care and tenderness beneath the hunger and you found yourself clinging to his arms as you kissed him back. No one before him had ever kissed you with such desire, such passion. It had you chasing his lips when he pulled away too soon.

“Now go to my room, get undressed, and kneel on the bed facing the headboard,” he ordered, his voice low and allowing the words to sink in just in case you had any objections. Because he was done talking and ready to play.

So were you.

It took you a moment to answer since you had to bite back a whine. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered, feeling his eyes on you as you walked to his bedroom.

You focused on keeping your breathing even as you shed your clothes, taking a moment to fold them before you set them on the chair in the corner. The only time you left your garments on the floor was if Bucky put them there or had you put on a show for him. It was his space and you respected it.

He hadn't told you how long to wait for him, but your heart thumped as you knelt on the queen sized bed. You didn’t see any toys as you glanced around, but there was water, snacks, wipes, and the soft blanket you loved waiting on the nightstand. It took a moment for you to spot that there was a blindfold and scarf on top of the blanket. Your womb clenched in anticipation, an exquisite feeling knowing your patience and obedience would reward you.

Bucky walked through the door a minute later and shut it behind him. The energy shifted completely, both of you ready for each other. As much as you wanted to lift your gaze and look behind you, you kept your eyes downcast as he approached the bed. He cupped your cheek once he was close enough and forced your eyes to meet his.

“My beautiful angel,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along your skin as you glowed from the praise. He reached for the scarf and ran his fingers across the silk as he glanced at you. “As much as I hate to cover those beautiful eyes of yours and restrain you, I want you to concentrate on my touch tonight. Just let me have you.”

A shiver rolled down your spine as you nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hands behind your back,” he said, moving to secure them once you did so. The silk was soft against your skin, almost as soft as the kiss to your shoulder. After years of being restrained, you knew he felt guilty at times taking your control away. The difference was you gave yourself to him willingly. “Tell me your safewords.”

“Green is good. Yellow to pause,” you stated, testing the scarf. He never bound you too tight, but it was enough that you couldn’t slip your wrists free. “Red to stop."

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turned your head a fraction so he could slot his lips properly over yours. Gentle, yet hot enough to melt your insides. “My good girl.”

He maneuvered you so you were in the middle of the bed and spread your knees a bit further apart. He joined you on his knees, still fully clothed. Casting your gaze down again, you bit your lip when you saw the prominent bulge in his pants. A hand came up to grasp your chin before you could stare for too long and lifted your head. If you were still wearing your panties, they would’ve dampened from his darkened gaze.

“So beautiful and all mine tonight,” he said.

“I’m yours, Sir,” you whispered, the word “always” unspoken.

“And I know you were staring,” he smirked, his fingers working the button and zipper of his jeans. His impressive cock sprang free once he pushed his underwear and pants down far enough and you wished you could lean down and swirl your tongue around the large head. “Greedy angel. Just desperate to have my cock in you.”

“Yes, Sir. Please,” you begged.

He made a show of lifting the blindfold before he slipped it over your head, your body tensing up when your world went dark. Sight was one of the senses you relied on the most. It helped you absorb most of the world around you. And now it was temporarily gone. It felt like your heart would burst from your chest as you breathed a bit heavier. But Bucky was there, softly touching your face until you relaxed.

“Breathe, angel. I’ve got you,” he whispered, drawing a gasp from you when his lips touched yours. His hands mapped your body, brushing along your breasts down to your thighs. You felt him everywhere. “Color?”

“Green,” you whispered as a hand moved around your back and forced you to arch. He was careful not to hurt your arms. “Please.”

Your head fell back with a moan as his lips closed around your nipple. You could practically feel that he looked up at you as he gently suckled. A wave of arousal crashed through you as he pinched the other. No one had ever lavished your body with such attention the way Bucky did.

“I love seeing you like this,” he murmured against the swell of your breast. “Helpless. Trembling. Needy.”

You didn't mean to let such a wanton moan escape, but he made you feel needed. He made you feel wanted. It was a beautiful thing to surrender to him.

“And I love that I'm the one you trust to take care of you.”

“I trust you with my life, Sir,” you moaned.

And your heart, even though he had the power to break it.

Your chest suddenly felt colder when Bucky pulled his mouth and hand away and you shook from the loss of his heat. His vibranium hand touched your torso to remind you he was close when he shifted closer to you on the bed. You gasped when he dragged his hand down and you were helpless to do anything but feel when it slid between your legs.

“You're doing so well for me,” he said, his teeth grazing your neck as his fingers spread your sopping folds. He teased you, letting you soak his metal fingers as you mewled. He lightly bit you again when he replaced his fingers with his cock, sliding along your slit, but not pushing inside you just yet. “You want me inside you? You need me to fuck you, don't you? Tell me.”

Your cheeks flamed as you whined. “I need you to fuck me, Sir,” you said, trying to widen your thighs to take him in more.

“I will. I'm going to give you everything you need,” he rumbled, gripping your hips with strong and capable hands to keep you still. “And you’re going to let me ruin your pretty little pussy with my cock.”

You panted with want at his possessiveness. Filthy words were something you never thought you’d hear from someone associated with The Avengers and they kicked your body into overdrive. You ached to have him split you open. “Ruin me, Sir.”

In one swift move he lifted you, pulled you into his lap, and buried himself to the hilt. Your mouth fell open as you let out a cry, every inch of his cock stretching and making itself at home in your welcoming cunt. You couldn't brace yourself on his shoulders with your hands behind your back. You couldn't see the ecstasy in his eyes as he let you adjust to his size, but you didn't have to. Not with the way he dug his fingers in and groaned against your shoulder.

He took you to heaven when he was inside you.

“Color,” he said against your skin, thrusting his hips up once.

“Green,” you moaned, reminding yourself to stay still when you wanted him to move. “So green.”

“Good girl,” he whispered, gently kissing up to your ear. “Keep being good while I bounce you up and down on my cock.”

Your eyes fluttered behind the blindfold as he pulled you up and slammed you back down on his cock. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your heart beat frantically in your chest. It was difficult to string thoughts together, but they all went back to him and how good he made you feel. How he made you feel beautiful.

Flaws and all.

“It’s like your cunt was made for me, angel. Practically crying all over my cock,” his voice was smoky as sounds of pleasure tumbling from your lips. The next moan was softer when he slid a hand up to your neck, resting it there as the other kept your hips flush against his. “You deserve to feel good because you are good. So fucking good.”

Your lower lip trembled as a sob worked its way to your throat, “Thank you, Sir,” you whimpered before he squeezed.

“And I. Deserve. You.” He punctuated each word with a deep thrust. You didn’t have to see his face to know the fury that surfaced. “My angel. Mine.”

It overwhelmed you as he bounced you in his lap, sinking you down onto him again and again. His thrusts were almost unforgiving, but the hand on your throat didn’t tighten anymore. He couldn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’m your angel, Sir,” you moaned as he reduced you to a needy wet mess.

“I wanna tear you apart,” he growled against your lips. “And put you back together so you still feel me when you fucking breathe.”

“Tear me apart, Sir,” you gasped, a plea for him to use you more. Your thighs hit his as he thrust up and all you could do was take it. He touched places inside you no one else could reach, physically and emotionally, and you never wanted it to stop. “Please!”

“Tell me you need me to come inside you and I’ll let you come,” he ordered, the hand on your neck squeezing a fraction. “Say it.”

“Come inside me, Sir,” you begged.

“Bucky,” he breathed against your lips. “Say. My. Name.”

Your next breath was shaky. He always had you call him “Sir” on nights like this. Why was this different?

Your orgasm began to crest, but you couldn’t let go until you gave him what he wanted. And he’d give you what you needed. “Come inside me, Bucky,” you exhaled. “Please.”

He swiped his thumb along your pulse with a deep groan, his cock still driving up into you. “I will after you come,” he promised, his tongue sliding past your parted lips and pulling away all too quickly. “C’mon, angel. Come for me. Show me you’re mine.”

The sob you tampered down earlier resuraced, wrenched from your throat as you came. Your release continued, practically leaking around his cock as tears slid out beneath the blindfold. You were beyond rational thought as pleasure spiraled through you, vaguely aware that he thrust through it to chase his own end.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” He grunted, pulsing hotly inside you as he filled you up.

Both of you panted as you continued to drift from euphoria, your heart still beating wildly. You were warm, but your body shivered as he lifted you up. Your combined release slid from your aching cunt once he slipped free. You floated and wanted him to catch you, but you couldn’t put your arms around him.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered when you let out a whimper. He made quick work of untying your wrists so he could lay you down properly and wipe away the tears still on your cheeks. “I’m going to take the blindfold off.”

Your eyes stayed shut for a moment when Bucky removed it, but you cracked them open when you wanted to see him. Your vision slowly cleared as you blinked a few times, your mind still floating as he came into view. He called you an angel, but he was the one who had a halo around his head at the moment. A gorgeous angel who had unrightfully had his wings taken away. He smiled like he wanted to eat you alive, but his touch was nothing short of tender when he brought his hand to your face.

“So fucking beautiful. You did so well for me. Fuck, I just wanna clean you with my tongue and fill you up all over again,” he praised as you clenched around nothing and whined. As hot as it sounded, you needed a bit of rest after that. “Not tonight,” he smiled, keeping a hand on you as he grabbed a wipe.

A reason he had everything close by was because you craved his touch after sex. If he ever got too far away, you whimpered and reached for him. It made you feel needy, but he assured you that he needed to keep touching you just as badly.

It just wasn’t fair that he looked so composed.

Bucky continued to shower you with soft praise as he cleaned you up. It didn’t take him long before he wrapped the soft blanket around you, trembles moved through your entire body as he put his arms around you, too. He took aftercare very seriously. It was a way for you to feel cared for and nurtured while allowing your body and brain to return back to normal. He never wanted you to experience negativity or sadness after any sort of session, especially an intense one.

You were aware that he moved you closer in his arms and rested his cheek against the top of your head, but you weren't ready to speak yet. It always took you a minute to come back to yourself and he was never one to rush or push you. If relaxing in his embrace was what it took to return to the world, he was more than content to keep you in his arms.

At least, that was what he told you.

You opened your eyes after a few minutes. Your heartbeat was back to a steady rhythm, but you still weren't ready to move yet. You were warm and safe. Bucky was there to take care of you. But what about him?

Had you taken care of him?

Bucky had a faint smile on his face when you lifted your head, his shoulders relaxed and eyes soft. Like he was at ease with everything around him. “Welcome back, angel,” he whispered, peppering your face with light kisses.

“Hey,” you smiled tiredly, your voice a little hoarse as you brought a hand to his hair, happy that you could touch him again. Judging by the way his eyes slipped shut for a moment before he opened them, he missed your touch, too.

“You okay?”

“I am and so are you. You're okay.” It wasn't a question. Whatever haunted him earlier was gone.

For now.

He didn't tear his gaze away as he reached for the water behind him, which you gratefully accepted as he put it to your lips. “You amaze me, you know? You just came back to yourself, but you're talking about me being okay.”

“Isn’t that why you call me?” You asked with a small frown, taking another large sip. “To help you?”

His brows furrowed. “It’s not just about me. This is about you, too.”

You took one more drink before you could say something stupid. Yes, this was about you, too. How he didn't push too far. How he’d hold you after sex and talk with you because those things were important to you. How he made you feel cherished and wanted for a short while.

You just didn't want to admit that he was a constant in your mind. But would it be so wrong if you did? Even if he’d never date you, didn't he have a right to know how you felt?

Communication was key and you would have to eventually tell him if those feelings persisted.

“It’s about both of us and I just want you to be okay,” is what you said because it was the truth.

He set the water aside and cupped your cheek, his calloused hand a little cool, but nice. You almost wished you could hide from his knowing eyes, but he didn’t press you for more. “I am now,” he said, swallowing a little. “I just couldn't let you see me tonight.”

Worry filled his eyes like he may have upset you, but you shook your head. You had seen his scars, but he was never obligated to show you his body. “You're letting me see you now,” you said, scooting closer as he brought your wrist to his mouth to kiss it.

You thought about how the evening played out. How he asked if you thought he was a good man. How he demanded that you speak his name. And how he said he deserved you. Either something happened while he was gone or someone said or did something to get to him. You wished you knew what it was since he didn’t expand on what had been eating away at him before.

“And before you ask, you didn't hurt me,” you told him, knowing the question was coming. You appreciated that he cared enough to check.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good because I’d never stop hating myself if I did,” he admitted, looking at the ceiling for a moment. “You don't deserve that kind of pain.”

Your heart swelled, not letting any past hurt enter your mind. He made you believe that you deserved better than what you had. It was a good feeling.

“Neither do you. And that's a reason why safewords exist. Both of us can use them,” you reminded him. Like aftercare, he took the words seriously. He listened to you. And if he ever got overwhelmed, he had every right to stop it the same way you did. “So no self-hate tonight.”

He huffed in mock annoyance. “Yes, ma’am. And speaking of self-hate,” he teased, tilting his head to look your way. “I really don’t want to go to therapy tomorrow.”

There was a forced calmness in his blue eyes as you assessed him. “You still don’t like your therapist,” you stated.

One of the conditions of his pardon was that he had to go to therapy. It was meant to help him process his thoughts and past experiences in order to work through them. Though he didn’t tell you what went on in his sessions as it was none of your business, he didn’t keep it a secret from you that the doctor was far from his favorite person.

You wondered if Bucky told her about you.

“What’s there to like?” He asked.

You smiled a little, knowing better than to poke the bear and say she probably wasn't that bad. “Well, being able to speak to someone who provides non-judgemental and empathetic support is one thing.”

“That’s why I like talking to you,” he said, the affection in his voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Oh,” you said, not sure what else to say.

Moments like that made you think he cared. No, that wasn’t right. You knew he cared about you. But hearing things like that made you feel like there was hope for more and he wasn’t ready for that.

Hope was both a wonderful and dangerous thing.

“Have you met anyone else?” He asked suddenly, moving his hand to your back.

It was a question Bucky asked every time he had you over. He said from the start if there was another man in your life that you’d rather be with, someone who could offer you more, he’d step aside. There wasn't anyone else. You didn't want anyone else.

And while it was admirable that he would walk away if that ever changed, your heart ached at the thought that he’d easily let you go. Because at the end of the day he wasn't ready for a relationship. Not yet.

Even if he was, who said he wanted one with you?

“No, I haven't met anyone,” you said, feeling the warm breath of his exhale against your skin as his hand moved up and down your back. It relaxed you more and you found yourself fighting a yawn. “Have you?”

“No,” he chuckled. The crinkles by his eyes made him look carefree. “Not since you saved me.”

You shut your eyes, afraid that tears would well up if you looked at him. “I didn't save you. All I did was buy you a coffee one afternoon,” you whispered dismissively.

That day changed your life.

“I’m going to let that slide since you're sleepy, but I’m going to remind you when you're wide awake that you did a lot more than that,” he spoke. He held you a little tighter when you stayed quiet. You were more tired than you thought. “Get some sleep, angel. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You let your eyes shut at his command. “Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

“Thank you for taking a chance on me.”

There was something else unspoken in the air, but a tender kiss to your forehead stopped you from reading too deeply into it.

In the morning, he’d send you back to your place after he made you breakfast. He’d text you later to make sure you were okay. He would continue to check in and you would do your best not to fall for him more. Because one day he wouldn't need you anymore. You didn't know when that day would come, but tonight you could indulge in the fantasy that Bucky wanted you to be his girl.

Permanently.

I just want these two happy and together. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

2K notes · View notes

onlyswan · 4 months

Text

summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

1K notes · View notes

armysantiny · 2 months

Text

-[chan; soft bf headcanon

My favourite single father of seven/j

Meeting Chan was almost fate, honestly

You’re a graphic designer and happen to love designing album covers

Stray Kids were finishing up an album and needed a graphic designer to help create the album covers

Lo and behold~

You and Chan meet!

Bonding during meeting after meeting while the creative process goes about working its magic

The bonding sessions turn into dropping by each other’s workspace

By which I mean you visiting Chan’s studio pretty much every time you have a lunch break and bringing a snack with you

Which he greatly appreciates <3

Because he never leaves that room/j

The speed at which you two become best friends is impeccable

Very much a duo – especially the kind that are always seen hanging out together

The feelings start not too long after too

There is one problem though... you’re both oblivious

Painfully oblivious

Somehow you both can’t see that the other is head over heels, and it doesn’t take long for the rest of skz to start taking matters into their own hands

They love you, really, but the running around in circles is going to drive them a little mad

Just a little :D

They keep trying to bash hints over your heads

Which is ironic because the confession happens so quickly

Catches everyone off guard fr

The two of you are hanging out late and it gets blurted out

Cue quick discussion over what you want in a relationship and boom—

Y’all are a couple now! Everyone liked that

Chan being your boyfriend comes with seven other people because none of these men know what the meaning of the phrase personal space is

Baby I don’t make the rules here, this is just the truth

You take it in stride though, which Chan appreciates

Oh yeah, and this man is a hugger

A certified cuddler I’m telling you

I’m convinced he needs his arms around you for thirty minutes a day, every day, at least

Will have you sit in his lap while he works so he can get his daily y/n cuddles

Try to move and watch him whine I swear—

Do you not want his affection anymore??/j

Lmao but despite how busy the both of you are, date nights are wonderful

He plans dinner reservations on days you’re both free and refuses to listen to anyone asking him to work

Date nights are for the two of you and the two of you only <33

Walks hand-in-hand with you after dinner and you stop by a few stalls

If you happen to pass by an arcade, he’s gonna win you a plushie from the claw machine

Sure he spends a little too much on it, but it’s all good fun

Especially worth it to see your face when he does win a plushie

And sure, your friends are more than happy that you’re dating Chan

But they are a little jealous

Because who doesn’t want a relationship like yours

You lucky darling, you~

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @ultkpopnetwork, @whipped-kpop-creators

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @teeztheflag, @jeonqquk, @mikailo666, @kkooongie, @xavi-in-kpopland, @marxenash, @borahae-reads, @tinystarstay | Taglist form

#Writer Elf Minnie #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #ultkpop #wkcnet #stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons #bang chan x reader #bang chan headcanons #stray kids fluff #bang chan fluff #skz headcanons #skz x reader #skz fluff

688 notes · View notes

cevansbrat0007 · 4 months

Text

The Scent of You

Summary: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs.

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Begging, Oral Sex (fem rec), Pussy Spanking, Slight Chase Kink, Light D/s themes, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @curls-and-eyeliner. Hopefully this is okay, ya'll. I'm honestly not sure if it worked the way I intended. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s no secret that Ari adores you, but you’ve learned over the course of your relationship that he is particularly fond of the way you smell. Your natural essence of spiced, sugared vanilla draws him in like a moth to a flame.

Which means he was always looking for a reason to touch you – to pull you close and breathe you in. Whether he’s hauling you against his broad chest to bury his nose in your hair while you’re cooking dinner, or he’s busy cascading soft, sweet kisses along the delicate column of your throat when you’re both snuggled up on the couch.

Your scent is like a drug. It calls to him – like a siren’s song – demanding that your handsome Bounty Hunter give in and help himself to his next hit.

This man is hooked on you and it’s honestly one of the most exhilarating things you’ve ever experienced. Growing up, you’d never dreamed someone would desire you like this; that anyone would want you in such an all-consuming way.

“I’m going to burn the chicken if you don’t cut it out.” You hum, smiling when you feel his brawny arms tighten around your waist. “And then we won’t have anything to eat but mashed potatoes and asparagus.”

“Mm. Then maybe we’ll just have to order-in.” His warm lips dance along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Beast.” You try again, intending to issue a light reprimand. Instead your voice comes out soft and breathy.

“You can feed me my dessert while we wait.” Ari’s long, talented fingers travel to the waistband of your pink sleep shorts, lightly tugging at the drawstring. “Just think about it.” You briefly lose your train of thought as you find yourself trying to remember if you were even wearing panties.

You’re pretty sure that you’d neglected to put them on again after your shower. At the time, you’d told yourself that you were trying to save yourself from having to make another trip to Victoria’s Secret.

It wasn’t your fault that your Beast wasn’t always house-trained. He was the kind of man who had a propensity for ripping off your underthings and tucking them into his pocket. Which meant you often had to make adjustments to your wardrobe.

And all of it because the scent of your arousal drove him wild.

Your musings are interrupted when a sudden pop of grease splashes out of the cast iron skillet, just missing both you and your man. “Alright, hands to yourself now, Beast. We’re working around hot oil and I’d feel terrible if you got hurt.”

Jesus H. Christ, you should’ve picked another day to fry this incorrigible man some chicken.

Ari nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, gently nipping at your pulse point. “I just need a fix, baby. One little hit and I’ll be good for the rest of the night.”

“Ari…” You blow out an exasperated breath as you reach for your tongs to flip your meat. “You don’t even know if I’ve showered or not today.”

“Don’t care.” He grunts, one big hand reaching into your shorts to possessively cup your increasingly damp pussy. “You know I love how you smell. Almost as much as I love the way you taste.” Ari lips move on to kiss along the shell of your ear. A shudder courses through you when he tugs the sensitive load between his sharp teeth.

“I’m proud to wear my girl.”

Your thighs clench of their own accord, your empty walls clenching around nothing. Apparently your body was just as hungry for him as he was for you.

“Y–you can’t go around just saying things like that.” It comes out as a whimper as your cheeks heat, meanwhile Ari busies himself with grinding the heel of his lightly calloused palm against your already throbbing clit.

“Why not, Duchess? Am I being too crass for you?” He teases as his free hand comes up to knead your breast, squeezing with just the amount of roughness he knew made your knees weak. “Turn that shit off and come feed me. I’ve been dying to get between those thighs all fuckin’ day.”

“But–but…” Your eyes flutter closed even as you reach for the knob that controls the burner, switching it off. Maybe he was right. You hated to waste this, but you could always try again another day.

Preferably on a night when your very persistent Beast was working late.

“There we go. I knew my woman wasn’t the type to let me go hungry.” Ari murmurs, releasing his grip on your now very wet pussy in favor of tugging down your shorts. A growl rumbles deep in his throat as he watches them fall to the ground at your feet. “I knew you couldn’t be that mean.”

“You owe me chicken alfredo from Guiseppe’s, you animal.” You snarl, removing the pan from the heat.

“Consider it done, baby.” You could tell without looking at him that he was obviously pleased with himself.

God this man was an absolute menace. But he was yours, which meant you had to keep him. Hell, you were pretty sure that if you ever tried to put him up for adoption you were pretty sure he’d find his way home.

Back to you. Wherever you were.

Feeling bold, you wiggle out of the Bounty Hunter’s grasp, only to be surprised when he lets you go.

“Bet you can’t catch me.” You challenge, making a sudden dash for the stairs.

Of course you knew he’d catch you. But sometimes you liked running from your Beast – because he was the type to always give chase which would only add spice to the proceedings.

And just like you knew he’d be, your Bounty Hunter is on you before you reach the fourth step. A scream escapes you – but you both know it’s one of excitement. After all, Ari Levinson was every inch the predator. It’s why you lovingly referred to him as “your Beast”.

“Gotcha now, Duchess.” He hisses, a heady mix of exhilaration and pride coursing through his veins. And that’s when you finally notice the impressive tent hidden beneath the fabric of his light gray sweats.

God, you had a feeling this man was gonna wreck you tonight. You just hoped you’d be able to walk in a straight line come tomorrow morning.

Ari takes that moment to flip you over before gently maneuvering your body in such a way that allows you to slide down a couple of steps.

“Yeah, you caught me.” You breathe, your body aching for him. And then you part your thighs, feeling more than a little empowered when you notice the way his imperious gaze darkens with lust at the sight of your glistening cunt. “Now…what are you going to do with me?”

Grabbing the edge of your nightshirt, you slowly pull it over your head, baring your breasts. If this man wanted you and was so willing to *ruin* your dinner for it, then who were you to deny him?

Immediately, Ari buries his face between your slick covered thighs, his powerful hands coming up to quickly throw your legs over his muscled shoulders. A deep, satisfied groan of appreciation escapes his throat as he sucks your pulsing clit into his warm, waiting mouth.

“Holy shit!” You cry, burying your hands in his soft, chestnut strands. “Sir, please!” Your body begins to tremble as you’re treated to the most sensual of assaults.

One thick finger gently prods at your entrance, seeking refuge in your slippery cunt. At the same time, you feel Ari release your sensitive bundle of nerves, content to lap at it with his wicked tongue.

“That's it now. Fuckin' drench me, Bird.” He orders softly, his voice coming out slightly muffled.

And then pauses he pauses again – this time to nuzzle his nose against your slippery folds. Your entire body quivers when he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and reveling in your wetness.

“My fuckin’ pussy.” Ari snarls, his flat tongue dragging a long, greedy swipe along your cunt. “Mine.” He pulls away long enough to slap your core in silent demand.

“Fuck yes!” You agree, eagerly rocking your hips in time with each delicious lash of his tongue. He swirls it over your little bundle of nerves, making your toes curl.

“Would wear you all day if you’d let me.” His nimble fingers begin to work you over, stretching you in the way he knew would make you crazy. “Proud to wear my girl.”

“Omigosh!Omigosh!Omigosh!” You wail, your velvety walls clenching around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you.

“Promise to always feed me when I need it, little Bird.” You feel his teeth lightly graze your clit once more, loving the way it makes you thrash and moan.

That’s right. This man was breaking you down on your living room stairs. And it was so good that you couldn’t even be bothered to make yourself give a proper fuck.

Dear God, this was the most exquisite kind of pleasure.

“Don’t you dare let me starve.” His fingers curve inside you, expertly finding your spot.

Holy fucking shit your man was making one hell of compelling argument, as evidenced by sweet cries and your shaking legs.

“Never.” Your thighs tighten around his head, threatening to smother him even as you gush around him.

Just the way you knew he fucking loved.

“There we go -- yeah, that’s it.” Ari rasps, smacking your right flank, reveling in the way you clench around him as you continue to ride his face. Meanwhile, you’re busy writhing in your man’s arms, trying not to escape his grasp as that familiar coil of pleasure begins to tighten in your belly.

You know he knows you’re close. So he picks up his pace, clearly enjoying the way you’re coming apart under his feral loving.

“I just need one good one from you – just one good one to start. And then I’m gonna give you my cock.” He increases the pace of his fingers, not missing the way your head is thrown back in complete submission. “And after that, I’ll order you dinner.”

“Fuck, Beast!” You pant, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. "Whatever you fucking say - ooh!" Your open palm slaps against the wall as you try to run. But his grip is too strong.

Instead he simply chuckles before pausing his feast long enough to press one hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh - his teeth scraping over your damp flesh as he takes you higher and higher.

“And while we wait, I’m gonna go ahead feed you my cock.” He quips with a feral flash of teeth. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you eat every bite.”

END

Unofficial Tag List

@katymae12344

@daykrisr99

@identity2212

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@blackhawkfanatic

@jamneuromain

@queerqueenlynn

@pono-pura-vida

@daykrisr999

@jamneuromain

758 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 12 days

Text

the girl next door 9

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

You don’t go straight home. You don’t want to upset your mom. So, you wander the suburbs, walking around cul-de-sacs, some you’ve never been down, and circling around the avenues. You pass mothers and fathers with strollers and children running and yelling on green lawns. It’s as if you’re walking through a utopia, floating by like a cursed wraith.

You glance down at the book in your hand. Maybe you should try some lighter reading. Your mind tends to go to dark places.

When at last you let yourself go back to the house, you do so cautiously. You don’t see Steve or your mom. As you come to the front door, you wonder if you should knock. You quietly let yourself in, gently closing the door as you stand on the mat. You leave your shoes on the low rack and tiptoe down the hall. Your mom can’t be mad if she doesn’t know you’re there.

“Hey, kiddo,” Steve’s voice as you tripping over your own feet. You turn to the archway as you pass and peer in. Your mother’s in her recliner, her eyes closed. Is she sleeping? You watch her warily. “How was your walk?”

“Um,” you blink and shrug, “fine.”

He stands by the window, his hand on the wall beside it. Did he see you come up? You hadn’t noticed him behind the curtain.

“Breakfast for you in the oven. Won’t be very warm but if it’s no good, I can start a new batch,” he offers.

“Don’t bother with all that,” your mother grumbles and shifts in her chair, groaning as she shakily rubs her cheek. Her eyes open only slightly. “She can warm ‘em up.”

“Always better fresh,” Steve stands straight and faces you fully.

“Thanks.”

You leave them with the single word. You feel like an intruder. You stop by your bedroom and hover in indecision. You just want to hide but you would hate to be rude. Steve went to all that trouble and you know, even as your mother says he’s already done too much, she’d be even more upset if you wasted his effort.

You put your book on the foot of your bed and go down to the kitchen. You take out the pancakes, content enough to have them cold. There’s a bottle of real maple syrup. Steve must’ve supplied that; you can’t afford the pure stuff. You don’t use very much, mindful of the expense of the sugary nectar.

You grab cutlery and bring the plate to the table. You sit alone. You can hear the hum of the ceiling fan from the front room and the dulcet song of birds floating in through the windows. Steve’s low tone rolls through the din but you can’t make out his words. You mother answers his with short mutters. She’s not having a very good day. You're surprised he stayed this long.

The pancakes are good, even at room temperature. They’re fluffy and taste richer than the frozen ones you get a bargain on. Is that blueberry too? With each bite, your hunger clenches your stomach tighter, mulching down the food greedily. When you finish, your body growls and aches.

You wash off your plate and put it in the tray. The lull of the house thickens as you pad down to your room. You slow as you near the door frame. Had you closed it? You can’t recall.

You turn into the room and let out a noise of surprise. Steve looks over as he stands over the folding table, his hand on your sketchbook, a page half-turned. Your heart drops as you clasp your hands together.

“Sorry, er, didn’t mean to...” he rescinds his hand and lets the page flutter down, “It was open and...” you don’t know whether he means the door or the book. “You’re really talented.”

Your forehead crinkles and you charge towards him. You step around him and shut the book, swiping it up. He leans back on his heel.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t trying to...” he sputters, “I just wanted to pass something by you.”

You hug your sketchbook at you face him. You stare at this chest. You feel violated. Not just that he’s in your space but he touched your stuff. The one thing that’s really yours; your drawings.

“Me and your mom were talking, you know, and she said it would be good for you to get out, maybe make some extra money,” he explains, “and I’ll be around so you won’t need to worry about her so much.”

You frown. You and your mother have had this talk a billion times. Get off your ass and get a job. It’s not like you haven’t tried.

“So, I got some work you can do. Like I said, I gotta get that pool open,” he continues, “and there’s little things around the house. You got a good hand so maybe some painting here and there.”

You push your shoulders up. You don’t think you can say no, especially if he’s already said as much to your mom. You half-suspect this is her doing.

“Complementary milkshakes?” He offers breezily.

You’re quiet. You have no choice. You know as much.

“You know,” he softens his tone, “if I’m gonna... hang around with your mom, we should get to know each other. It’s a good opportunity for us.”

“Fine,” you answer.

“Fine? So that’s a yes?” He asks.

You close your eyes and flick them open, “yes.”

“Great. Well, when can you start? How about tomorrow? Supposed to be another sunny day.”

“Okay,” you agree, “tomorrow.”

He doesn’t move. You want him to leave. The conversation is over. He got what he wants and your mom too. He’ll pay you dimes to clean the pool and your mom will reap the profit.

“You know, I draw a little too,” he points to your sketchbook, “maybe if we have time tomorrow, I can show you.”

“Maybe,” you mutter.

“Ah, uh,” he chuckles bashfully and rubs his neck, “right, I'm in your way. Well, er, I��ll leave ya be.” He turns and struts to the door. He stops just inside the frame and looks back, “oh, how were the pancakes?”

You take a breath and stay staring at the wall, “good.”

“Great, did you have some of the syrup? It’s Canadian.”

“Yeah,” you turn and tuck your sketchbook into your dresser draw. “Thanks.”

“No problem, sweetie,” he taps the wall and the door closes with a click.

You sit on your bed and hunch over to hold your head. It’s still heavy from the night before and now you’re even more tired than before. You don’t know if it’s from being out in the sun or all the walking you did, but your eyelids feel dry and seem to cling with each blink. You yawn and bring your legs up, curling your body up near the edge of the bed.

You know you shouldn’t sleep in the middle of the day, but you just can’t help yourself.

🏠

You wake up in the haze of the late afternoon. Your eyes hurt and your limbs are achy. You lay on your back as the curtains stir with the lazy breeze. You look over to find them open but you don’t remember pulling them apart. You barely remember anything past your awkward morning stroll.

It takes you a while to push through the stiffness. You never sleep on your back; it leaves it racked and your ribcage hurts. As you stand, you notice the door. It’s slightly open.

You get up and go to it, pull it inch by inch. The house is quiet but for a soft rumble, rhythmic and rocky. You putter down the hall and look into the front room. Your mom’s asleep in her chair. She’s almost peaceful as she snores in the recliner.

The scene strikes you as odd, almost dreamlike. Your mom’s never been much of a napper. In fact, she always nagged you about the habit. You think of waking her but think better of it. She won’t be happy to be awoken, even if she might be irritated later to know she slept away the day.

Steve is gone. You search each room to be sure then go to the kitchen. It’s clean and everything is put away, even the dishes you left in the tray. The large bottle of syrup is gone as well.

You mutter and go back to your room. Another soft wind drifts in. You stumble over to your bed and fall back onto it. You yawn again. Gosh, you’re so tired.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #series #the girl next door #au #silverfox au #captain america #marvel #mcu

199 notes · View notes

dollwritesarchive · 1 year

Text

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 — 𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, fiancé!giorno, don!giorno, fingering ( f!receiving ), begging, edging ( him ), virgin!needy!reader, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ I AM REWATCHING GOLDEN WIND SO ITS THE PERFECT TIME TO OBSESS OVER GIORNO AGAIN. posted for my hoe for the holidaze event. do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

Giorno Giovanna was a difficult man to be betrothed to.

not because he was calloused or paid no attention to you— it was actually the opposite. your fiancé doted relentlessly on you, always allowing you to sit in his office with him while he worked ( even during meetings in which his men would give you uncertain looks as they reported sensitive information to him ), and he’d always reach for your hand, hold it on your knee and allow his thumb to stroke the delicate skin as he spoke. he also loved to kiss you, and he would do so whenever he had a moment to do so. even if there was an emergency that required his immediate attention within the ranks; on his way out the door, he would always take the time to tilt your chin up so that he could trace your couplet with his own.

and it was this amount of dizzying affection that made it so impossible to keep yourself from lusting after him.

but Giorno was, first and foremost, one of the most chivalrous men you’d ever met. even with his Gangster status, he was always trying to do the right thing when it came to his future with you. and, unfortunately, one of his intentions had always been to keep your pure and virtuous until the wedding, so as not to shame your family.

“I don’t want you to regret it.” he’d whispered to you once in the dark as he held you. you’d begged him to just take you already— traditions be damned. he wasn’t having any of it. “I want you to be ready to give yourself to me, and not just physically.” he’d kissed your temple when you grumbled about being ready, and chuckled softly. “Wait it out. If not for yourself, be good for me. I want to love you for the first time knowing you’re mine and I’m yours.”

but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to satisfy your urges any other way he possibly could.

“Please, don’t stop.”

you were whimpering, back arching against the door he had you pinned to. Giorno had one hand pressed into the door behind your head to keep you from hitting it when you squirmed, and the other was moving under your skirt. with the long, lithe fingers you’d come to know so damn well, he could make you tremble and beg until you wanted to collapse on the floor in a heap of pathetic sobs. the first two curled inside, the svelte tips massaging a cluster of hypersensitive nerves that had you rolling your head on your shoulders, pressing it back against the back of his hand, and moaning.

“D—Don Giovanna—“

but he frowns, pressing his forehead to yours. “My name,” he murmurs, allowing his lips to dance only inches from yours as he pumps his fingers deeper. you could feel the chill of metal as his rings, scattered on his remaining digits, press against your netherlips— he’d been considerate enough to take the two off of his fingers he intended to use on you, and they lay forgotten on the large, mahogany desk a few feet away. your hands were gripping his shoulders, but they slid over the expanse of his chest as it rises and falls with heavy breathing. you’d already untangled his braid, and his golden tresses hung around his face and shoulders like curtains, billowing as your ragged breath hits the strands. his shirt was also open, and you use the rare opportunity to dig your nails into the pads of muscles in his chest. “Say my name.” they were unyielding, but you already knew that. you could feel just how solid he was underneath his clothes when he pulled you in for a loving kiss or hugged you close at night.

“Giorno…” you mewl, rocking your hips forward to meet his skillful pumping. “Giorno!”

he moans, too. and it’s such a beautiful sound.

pressing his body closer to yours, he nuzzles his face in your neck to kiss and suck all over, finding your sweetest spots in mere seconds, while his pace between your thighs picked up. you could tell he was enjoying it, too, breathing heavily on your skin before latching on to leave his signature in a love bite that would be easily covered by your collar.

“Please— let me touch you, too…” you were hesitant, because you could feel him grinding a firm lump in his pants against your thigh, trying to relieve the pressure he felt, but you’d never been able to get your hands on it. but, you allow your hands to fall to his belt, the very tips of your fingernails dipping underneath to tease the faint trail of blonde hair that no doubt led to your desire. “Giorno, I want to feel you…”

“Not yet,” he whispered, and you gripped his belt, frowning. he must’ve felt you inhale, ready to protest, because he pulls away from your neck to smother your mouth in fierce kisses, curling and twisting his fingers against your fluttering walls until you’re whining and pliable. “I’m dying to be inside you…” he moans into your mouth, pressing his body against yours. you could feel the tent jabbing at his zipper and you know it must be just hardly keeping his erection contained. it must be painful. “I want to feel you, too, amorina,” he crooned, breathless, using your very favorite pet name. “I’m starved for you. I’m just barely able to resist the urge to lay you on my desk. If I even feel your soft hands wrap around me, I’ll lose that battle.”

your eyelids are heavy, flittering slowly, and you roll your hips to meet the palm of his hand. he was drawing you closer and closer to the edge, and you knew he was trying to distract you. “I want you to fuck me, Giorno.” you moaned, and you could feel every muscle he had go taut beneath his skin. the specter of a pinky blush was raising in his cheeks, olive eyes staring into yours. you take this opportunity to hitch one of your legs on to his hip, hooking your ankle against the small of his back to pull him closer. “I don’t want to wait anymore, please… please just give it to me!”

Giorno’s mouth hung slack, his hips jutting forward as if instinctively trying to give in to your begging, and he presses your buttons from the inside with the pads of his fingers. your belly ties in knots and you swoon. “I can’t,” he whispered, breathless, and you squirm. you’re coming undone even as he refuses to give you what you really want. “I gave you my word when I put this ring on your finger,” his free hand slips from behind your head to reach between you and grasp your hand, pulling it up to his mouth so that he could kiss the jewel in the center, “that I would do… everything… I could to take care of you. Didn’t I?”

you nod, moaning his name under your breath like a broken mantra. you wanted to argue, and tell him that you would be better taken care of if he would just strip you down and fuck you right here, right now, but you knew that wasn’t the case. because Giorno didn’t just mean physically. when he promised to take care of you, he meant to keep you safe, fed, spoiled. he wanted to keep your reputation as pristine as it was before you were engaged to the Passione Boss.

“I intend to keep my promise.” he moans, his golden brows furrowed, as if it also pains him to say it. but Giorno’s resolve is strong, and you know that he means it. he kisses the ring again, and this time, your finger, too.

“Damn you for being so— responsible—“ you whimper. you tried to poke your bottom lip out into a childish pout, but his digits were working too skillfully on your nerves, pulling the orgasm out of you, and you allow your mouth to hang open so you can cry for him freely.

he chortles a bit, fondly, and kisses you again to muffle your sounds as you get loud. no doubt, his guards with their heads just on the other side of the door was getting an earful. hell, maybe even Mista would be red faced and unable to look you in the eyes when he escorted you to the car that would take you home to wait for your husband-to-be’s return. his hand slows in tandem with your aftershocks once you’ve cum, allowing you to ride his palm at your speed until you’ve come to a shivering, panting stop. “I’ll give you every ounce of pleasure that I can with my fingers until you’re officially my wife. As often as you’d like.” he husks, slowly breaking the heated kiss to pepper your forehead with a litter of slower, softer pecks. “And, when the night finally comes that I can give every part of myself to you, I promise to worship your body with my mouth, my hands, and my cock until you can’t possibly keep your eyes open or your legs from trembling. Amorina, I promise that, as your husband, I’ll not stop until we’re both in tears.”

reluctantly, you allow your leg to drop to the floor, but you nod, throwing both arms around his neck, and you lean in to kiss his jaw. “Giorno Giovanna,” you purr against his lips, turning your head to allow them to fit better against yours. “Is there no way to change your mind once it’s made up?”

he smiles again, and shakes his head, both hands finding your waist to hold you steady so he can deepen the kiss you initiated. after a moment or two, he pulls back. “Every time I kiss you, another pebble falls from the wall of my resolve. We’d better hold the wedding soon.” there’s a faint knock, three taps. Mista. he called out to Giorno that the car was here, and Giorno sighs, using his clean hand to caress your cheek. he didn’t want to send you away so soon, but you know he didn’t have a choice.

nibbling on your own lip, you take his wrist and guide it back beneath your skirt, allowing his fingers to rub against your slick one more time, and gather your essence upon them. “Don’t stop thinking of me.” you demand, batting your eyelashes. when you release his wrist, he brings his hand up to his face and inhales deep. you didn’t miss the way he shudders when he catches your scent on his shiny fingers.

“I would be the world’s biggest fool if I did.”

2K notes · View notes

vmpiires · 3 months

Text

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ❛ THE BLOOD PAINTER — 画家 , CHOSO KAMO

·.⌇ 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓. art; it’s a beautiful thing…when you know what you’re doing...and when the cute artsy guy who’s now your class partner is smart. wc, 2.47K. dark mode recommended.

note. i love this story ya. i was thinking about it alll day. i’m glad ya like it too. hope ya enjoy :D reblog to support meeee and lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part

tags. artist!choso, college AU, possible nsfw, female anatomy, smoking, etc. lmk if i missed anything

misc. masterlist AO3 PART ONE

your chest tightened once you heard the words ‘get with your partners’. you reacted never positively with that statement. you dreaded working with other students in your class. the art professor had everyone paired up with a random student, to which they’d let it be known that the two of you would be partners for the rest of the semester. you had been lucky enough to be tied down with the smartass of the class…choso kamo.

you had a confused expression on your face while you seen him in complete awe at the art pieces that flashed on the terribly detailed and wordy powerpoint. you were surprised you hadn’t slammed your head against the table trying not to fall asleep.

reluctantly pulling out the cute and compact pencil case you bought last minute from shein, you grab the simple navy blue mechanical pencil out that you had been given by choso. you were trying to give it back to him previously but he insisted that you kept it, assuming that you might need it later on down the road.

you didn’t expect any less from the smartest guy in your class when you saw him already halfway done with his assignment. maybe you were exaggerating at the moment because these were basic questions just to see if you were paying attention to the powerpoint—which you barely were.

“ah, sorry, i forgot we were working together.” choso’s deep voice echos through your brain as he speaks to you, stopping his quick paced writing to let you catch up. you noticed how shy he seemed, despite his pure confidence when answering questions. choso pushed his paper in your direction and looked away, giving you time to work.

as you write, giving the male a friendly smile so he didn’t feel intimidated by your bored expression because of how tired you were, you couldn’t help but notice how his silver rings gently tapped against the wooden table. the bandaids that decorated his slender fingers on the digits that didn’t have rings. the bandage over his nose along with one stuck to his cheek. the one that covered one specific part on his wrist.

what the hell did have have so many bandages for? was he that reckless of a person that he was always getting hurt…or was this all a fashion statement? you wouldn’t be shocked if it was just for fashion. a lot of people do that, so you couldn’t judge. you’d watch as he’d adjust the nose piercing in his nose and then guide his palm into his hair, lightly scratching his head.

“here,” you push his paper back in his direction and thank him for showing the answers. the two of you finally get on track and finish your work and turn your papers into the box that reads ‘homework’ in black sharpie.

since you and choso would be partners for the rest of the semester, it was a good opportunity to get to know him as time passed….and it was also because your professor suggested that you do so.

placing your elbow on the table and your chin in your palm, you’d face your attention over to the artsy boy, who now had a small sketchbook in his possession, lightly marking the paper with his pencil, only to finally add details slightly darker.

“um…so, choso, right?” you start. the tip of his pencil snaps as he flinched upon hearing his own name. the male turned to you as his thumb lightly punched the end of his pencil to replace the broken lead.

“yeah…that’s me.” he finally replies, his eyes averting another way. he seemed to have a hard time making eye contact with you. his expression was calm and stoic. something you never seen before. “did you need something?”

“well, you know we’re partners for the semester so…what’s your hobbies?” you were damn near dying of cringe at the moment. it wasn’t the fact that you were talking to this super smart and creative guy. it was because you hardly knew how to start conversations. mentally, you curse your inability to normally interact in public.

“um..well, i’m kind of an artist. i mean, i consider myself one. i like taking pictures on the polaroid i got for christmas one year…and uh—i read a lot.” choso explains. he seemed like the typical smart guy with creative qualities and a bit shy.

“oh, that’s cool. that explains why you’re in this class.” you say. you noticed that choso would give you a faint smile, something different from his stoic demeanor.

“mhm…well, what about you?” choso queries. you bite your lip. you knew the question would come soon but not that soon. you were thinking that he’d elaborate on how much he loved his hobbies, giving you time to think of what you were gonna say yourself.

you take a breath before finally introducing yourself properly. you quietly say your name, followed by your interests and some other unnecessary details that no one asked for but you were nervous. nothing wrong with that.

choso seemed pretty attentive when you were nervously rambling about whatever came to your head. giving his input on some of the things you mentioned also. you seen choso’s eyebrows raise up when you mentioned the concept of being interested in painting, though he didn’t say anything else about it.

it was time for photography class now and choso’s first project was coming up. that wasn’t an issue for him since this was something he was heavily interested in.

reading the instructions on the paper in his mind, the little voice in his head speaking for him, he saw that he had to make a scrapbook with brand new pictures that reveal something about him.

something like a self portrait but without the drawing and the excessive erasing whenever something turns out ugly.

“that sounds like a cool project. hey, take a pic of me right now,” yuji smiled, posing into the camera. but choso shook his head.

“i’ll come by this weekend and we’ll take some pictures. i want you to be clear and in front of the camera. not goofy and pixelated.” the male replied, making yuji laugh.

“i won’t be pixelated—maybe your wifi sucks.”

“i will admit, my internet does go in and out sometimes. it’s very frustrating…but i get around.” choso leaned his back against the pillow, his head gently resting against the wall behind the bed.

“how are the others? are they well?”

“eso and kechizu are outside,” yuji would back away from the camera to look out of the window, which gave him a view of the front yard and the surrounding houses.

“they’re playing with the frisbee.”

“i’m glad they’re doing fine. have you three eaten anything?”

yuji hummed, “i wanted to try cooking but i didn’t wanna burn the place down so we’re getting takeout at that buffet you took us to back in the summer.”

“don’t touch the stove unless i’m there. i really don’t want you hurting yourself or anyone else for that matter.”

as choso and yuji’s conversation prolonged, choso began working on some homework that he had from his english and math class. yellow tinted lights surrounded choso as he used a small remote and flick on his fairy lights and his attention was focused back onto the paper, his pencil scratching lightly against it while he used his binder for support.

the next day was an off day so choso decided that he’d take a walk to the cafeteria and get breakfast. holding his backpack firmly against his back, he’d walk into the large area. the male was being casual and chose to wear a grey sweatshirt and a pair of joggers with his hair tied back into a ponytail, leaving some of his hair hanging down in the back and in his face as usual.

sneakers lightly clicking against the tiled flooring of the cafeteria, choso would grab some plasticware and a plate and he’d pick out what he wanted to eat, which were two fluffy pancakes, eggs, and two sausages. he was slightly disappointed that there weren’t any bacon that day but there was always next time.

choso wasn’t really a coffee guy but it was that or be stuck with drinking tea or water—out of everything he preferred water but he was getting older and it was about time he’d try something new.

the male was in his own world, finishing some work that he fell asleep doing the night before and reluctantly sipping the coffee. he already knew his stomach would be gurgling the entire day because of it. or because of the fact that he hated the taste so bad that he was able to force his body to reject it.

soon enough, he saw a figure situate themselves beside him. pausing his music to see who had been sitting near him, his heart nearly bursted out of his chest when he found you. a lump in his throat formed when you gave a gentle smile and waved at him.

“hey, how come you’re sitting by yourself?” you ask him as you began to eat your breakfast. you had the same items on your plate but what was different was the fact that you had some chocolate milk with you. not the drinks that the school offered. it was making him wonder where you got the carton of milk from.

“ah, i just needed time to myself. i have so much stuff to catch up on. i have to schedule a train back home to visit my brothers this weekend and my photography class is starting a project so i have to start that. i also need to be preparing for my chemistry and algebra tests.” choso explained to you in a frenzied tone. you wanted to giggle at how quick he was speaking. not to insult him but you thought it was funny how panicked he sounded.

“shit, you already have tests? your teachers must be pretty serious about their work—or they just wanna get the topics out of the way.” you take a sip of your milk. choso nods, wrapping his index finger around one of the loose strands of his ink colored hair.

“you don’t? no fair.” choso chuckled. “well, you might’ve picked some easier classes than i had. you don’t strike me as a girl that enjoys the concept of extended education.”

the comment caught you off guard but he was right. you didn’t look like the typical college girl, nor did you look like you particularly enjoyed coming to class. you were just there because you were told to go. you were just happy to find something that made you happy.

“i didn’t wanna be here at first but i got used to it.” you’d take a bite of your sausage and quickly chew it before speaking again. “my parents were insistent on me coming to college. even after i said that i didn’t wanna go, they forced me anyway. back in high school i found myself signing up for FAFSAs and all that fun stuff.”

“oh, so you don’t actually pay out pocket to come here?” he queried. “that’s good, you won’t be in debt and you won’t have to pay anything back.”

“what about you?”

“no, i’m in the same situation as you. i’ve just become keen to people not making the best choices when it came to schooling.” choso replied as he’d close his laptop, finally finishing the study guide that he was given from his chemistry class.

he spoke so proper and sophisticated. talking to him made you think you were talking to a counselor. his voice was deep but smooth like butter. somehow, he made you feel safe even though you didn’t know him very well.

you noticed how simple his clothes were compared to when he came to class or when you saw him leaving school grounds to head back into the city for who knows what. he was always well kept. even in his lazy clothes.

the cologne he wore had a smell that you knew would stick in your mind and in the memory of your nostrils for a long while. if you ever smelled it somewhere else, it’ll instantly remind you of him.

when the two of you finished your breakfast, you were about to get up and throw your plate out when choso gently took it from your hands.

“i’ll take it,” he said softly, taking the plate and stacking it on top of his. your cheeks flushed a bit when you felt his large hand brush against yours.

his skin was soft as if he exfoliated himself everyday and it had a warm, comforting sense to it. when he walked away, you started to wish he stayed there and just held onto your hand for an extra moment.

the weekend came around and choso was making his was off of the train and heading back home. once he arrived, he was barraged with greetings and yuji throwing himself into choso’s chest.

“how’s your classes?” eso queries.

“it’s—hm…well i can’t say they’re boring because i love my classes. but some can be tedious or annoying. like math. the moment i get the hang of one topic, we’re already moving on to the next. then i’ll have something new to learn.” choso replied. “and you three?”

“me and megumi hung out.” yuji said excitedly. “and then gojo sensei took us to this movie. it was so cool but megumi didn’t like it. he said it was stupid.”

“your idea of “cool” is definitely interesting.” eso chimed in.

“was it another worm movie?” choso slipped his shoes off and gently placed them on the shoe rack. yuji twisted his lips upward.

“it was not….it was a bug movie. it was about this roach that wanted to be as big as a spider. and guess what? huge spoiler; the roach got big. and i mean huge.”

“very interesting, itadori.” choso chuckled, seeming a bit amused by yuji’s odd adventures. “i’m sure the movie was good—maybe. i don’t know. your choice of movies are actually weird.”

“my choices are not weird.” yuji pouted. “you watch probably romance movies all the time…um—not that that’s a bad thing. but you still probably do.”

“if you knew me, you’d know that i’m not interested in those. they’re kinda cheesy. i’ll settle for romcoms. other than that, i watch horror and mystery.”

“yeah, you’re totally an old man.”

“i’m only nineteen….”

ending notes. IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONGGGG i’ve made like six apologies about this but yk i just don’t want ya thinking i’m neglecting this story cuz i like this more than anything i’ve ever made. headcanons are next and MAYBE street racer choso because it just popped in my head this morning. excuse any mistakes if i’ve made any. i apologizeeee. remember, comments and reblogs are much appreciated and thank you for reading.

168 notes · View notes

euphor1a · 1 year

Text

Namjoon gives you a belly bulge

thirst drabbles (7/∞)

fandom » bts

pairing » namjoon x f!reader

rating » 18+ (minors dni!)

genre » smut, established relationship.

word count » ~ 550

warnings » profanity, dom/sub undertones, belly bulge, big d*ck!joon, size kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, lmk if i missed anything!

Another whimper escapes you, eyes closed shut from the bliss that enraptures your mind and body. Namjoon buries his nose in the crook of your neck to inhale your scent. His hand, gentle yet firm, puts pressure on the bulge that has appeared in your belly. You gasp, soon followed by a groan that reverberates in his throat.

“Would you take a look at that! Fuck. Your little pussy can’t even take my cock properly.” He nips on the sensitive flesh of your neck. You jerk a little in response, overwhelmed by the feeling of his cock filling you up so well. Namjoon repositions himself to look into your eyes.

“Look at me, baby, c’mon.”

The moment you open your eyes to meet his gaze, he starts to pull out. You shudder, feeling all those veins and ridges of his length dragging deliciously along your gummy walls. Before you can process anything else, Namjoon thrusts back inside. You cry out as you’re pushed upwards from the force.

“Joonie—” your voice is small, barely audible. He sets a pace that is ruthless, cock repetitively hitting all those sweet spots inside you. The sounds you make with each of his thrusts are like punctuation. Your eyes roll back whenever his tip brushes over your cervix. You’re overflowing with fluids, leaking and gushing around him. Some of it runs down your inner thighs, slathering over him also.

“You’re making a mess, baby, fuck.” Namjoon catches your lips in a searing kiss. Your back arches, breasts pressing into the hardness of his chest. He growls when he feels your pebbled nipples against his skin.

“M– ugh, I need more!” you whine, breaking the kiss abruptly. Your hips buck up to match his rhythm. Namjoon lets his hand slip between your joined bodies, gently stroking the belly bulge.

“Oh baby,” he rasps, “wonder how your cute tummy will look when all nice and round.” Your pussy clenches when you realize what he’s implying. “You’d love that, won’t you? Do you want me to breed your little womb? Yeah?”

“Fu–fuck— Joonie! Yes!” A strange wave of carnal desire pulses in your body. Namjoon notices immediately.

“Is that what you want, hm? Pretty tits full of milk for our baby who’ll grow inside your tummy?”

You shudder against him, his hips roughly pounding into you. He takes the hold of your left leg to place it on his shoulder, cock now hitting deeper into your pussy.

“I’m gonna fill you up with all my cum, baby,” he mutters under his breath, pressing a kiss on your stomach. “And you’re gonna keep every single drop of it in your pussy like a good girl. Okay?”

However, you’re way too preoccupied to answer his question, brain addled at how good he’s screwing you, promising you things you’ve never dared to think about. Namjoon doesn’t appreciate your silence. His hand slowly runs down from your belly bulge to clit, a shocked gasp escaping you.

“Answer me, baby. You’ll keep my entire load inside your pussy like a good girl, right?”

You clench around him upon those words, lips moving to utter a breathless “yes”. Your teary eyes meet his, head nodding fervently. Namjoon can’t help but groan at your eagerness, thrusts turning sloppy.

He loves you so, so bad. And it will be the same for your kid.

˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱

thank you so much for reading <33!! i hope you enjoyed it hehe 🫣! this a repost from my old blog but i edited it and added more... stuff 🥴! apologies for any mistakes left in there!

consider leaving a reblog or a comment to let me know what you think of this!! feedback through asks will be appreciated too! support your local writers, it keeps us motivated to create and share 🌸!

↬ navigation

#🪄; things i’ve written #♨️; thirst drabbles!#bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #kpop smut #bts x reader #namjoon imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #editing this got me 🫢😵‍💫😳#i've written some really filthy stuff that cater *cough* to me *cough*#anyway i hope this caters to other people too jfhdfbhjjfuj

733 notes · View notes

erensangel444 · 2 years

Text

you’re my bestfriend

please dni if not 18+ thank u! eren jaeger x reader

modern!au

this blurb is eren x fem!reader, if you guys would want to see some gender neutral fics just let me know in my asks inbox! i’m open to any suggestions, if you want a fic that’s specifically tailored to you whether that be race-wise, gender-wise, any disabilities, etc,. just let me know!

likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated:D

this blurb has been proofread but if i missed something just let me know!

a/n: this fic is basically the embodiment of my deepest desires. i will never get over slow burn friends to lovers trope. especially like when they like started as childhood friends and grew with each other like i will actually start sobbing.

A/N after finishing: this may be my favorite fic i’ve ever written

side note: i originally had eren driving an audi r8 but him driving a pick up truck is a very necessary part of the fic n you’ll see why :D

warnings: language, alcohol consumption, drug use(just weed), smut [slight breeding kink, creampie, oral f!receiving]

word count: 13.9k words

summary: love can only be ignored for so long.

eren loves telling the story of how the two of you became such good friends. and he doesn’t love telling it because it’s such a heartwarming story. he just loves to see how you get all

embarrassed.

eren always starts the story the same, regardless of his audience: “flashback, nine years...”

eren can’t recall every explicit detail from middle school, but he can remember the sheer awkwardness of being 12. eren knows he was a bit of a nerd in middle school, constantly watching minecraft building tutorials, and still playing with action figures( he’d take that one to his grave, though).

that’s why eren’s first interaction with you was completely new territory. obviously eren knew girls were like....a thing, but he had never really talked to any besides mikasa. he’d had small crushes, but he never confessed, too scared of being rejected.

but, you, you were a weird one. too intriguing for him to ignore. he really hadn’t ever noticed you before you had sent him that first message. his mom had finally allowed him to get kik, after putting up with his incessant begging for months.

he felt so cool getting the app that was such big talk around school. after watching tutorials, he could finally work it properly and was messaging back with armin and mikasa constantly.

eren can easily recall that fateful day that the kik notification flashed across his screen. he figured it was a message from mikasa, or a funny minecraft meme from armin, and he grabbed his phone with giddy excitement.

to find a message from, you. eren had cocked his head in slight confusion. you and eren had never talked before. sure, you sat two rows to the front and three seats to the left of him in history, but you’d never held an actual conversation before.

eren could feeling himself getting nervous now, his finger inching towards your message.

every time eren tells this story, he makes sure to include this next part: “i swear to god i let out an actual gasp when i read the message. i think y/n ruined my innocence,” and it is always followed with your “fuck off” being shouted from somewhere in the room.

the impending message of anticipation, of doom, read,

hey papi >0<

eren just sat for a moment, staring at his screen before wondering if he should ask armin for advice. papi? what is that supposed to mean?

after three minutes of contemplation, eren figured he could handle this one on his own. he carefully constructed his response before hitting send,

umm hi?

eren felt a strange sense of triumph. his first ever message to a girl. he thinks he handled it pretty well.

you were quickly responding, and that washed away eren’s triumph with more nerves.

lmao it was a dare from my friend

oh. you had probably only texted eren to tease him. he felt the butterflies in his stomach turn into clumps as he typed back his reply.

oh haha which friend?

he waited eagerly for you reply.

her name’s lily, she lives in texas, but we’re playing minecraft together :3

eren would’ve never taken you as someone who like video games. his little heart couldn’t take how fast it was beating. eren didn’t know what else to say besides,

oh i see

god, why was he so stupid? he could’ve said he liked minecraft too, he could’ve kept the conversation going. instead, it reached its inevitable end, your simple reply being,

yep

fuck, he’d scared you away, hadn’t he? eren put his hand over his mouth quickly. that was the first time he’d ever cursed.

you were bringing out the worst in him.

he threw his phone on his bed before putting his head in his hands with a whine fit for a 12 year old boy.

the next time eren had talked to you was at the end of the year school dance.

unbeknownst to him, you had mutual friends, or a mutual friend, mikasa. she had gone with a group of girls to the dance, claiming she didn’t want to be stuck around “you two bozos all night,” in reference to eren and armin.

eren can vividly remember this next moment, even with the strobe lights blinding his vision. he remembers mikasa trying to push you into him in an anything-but-subtle manner.

he remembers the faint smell of your shampoo. apples? it suited you.

and he remembers how quickly you scurried away from him with a small, “sorry!”.

he remembers feeling like he grossed you out.

and most importantly, he remembers the joy he got when he saw your message that night before bed.

sorry about tonight. it must of made you uncomfortable with mikasa pushing me into you.

you were much more formal in this message, and overly apologetic, eren thought. you had no reason to be sorry, it wasn’t your fault. he wanted to talk to the same person he had talked to those 2 months ago.

haha it’s alright it was pretty crowded in there anyways

would the ‘haha’ be enough? eren was visibily stressed, gnawing on his bottom lip as he waited for you to message back.

thanks for understanding sorry again eren

had he read that right. did you type out his name? why’d it look so pretty in your message? it had never looked like that before.

eren fell asleep imagining his name falling from your lips.

though eren can recall those specific memories easily, he can’t trace back to an exact moment in which the two of you declared your friendship. he remembers the first time you hung out, the two of you with mikasa, armin, sasha, connie, and jean.

he remembers watching you play guitar hero and thinking you were so fucking cool. he can also remember the jealously that began brewing in his chest when he watched how comfortably you spoke to jean.

the two of you didn’t talk much that night besides eren handing you a piece of pizza on a plate. your smile and soft ‘thank you’ made his heart feel like he was about to have a stroke.

he couldn’t have gone home happier.

eren doesn’t know if his romantic feelings for you just disappeared over time. he doesn’t think they did. he knows they didn’t.

eren would describe his feelings for you as coming in waves. some days the tide would be strong, and on others, it would barely brush the shoreline.

as your relationship began to gradually progress and as you became closer friends, eren found no room for his romantic feelings. he didn’t want to risk losing what he was so gracious to even have. your friendship was better than nothing.

that fear of rejection always found a way of creeping back in.

and here you were now, 21, in a random living room with his basketball team and some of your friends, and he was telling this exact story.

though, as he told this story, and as he had in the many retellings before, he was leaving out the most fundamental part.

eren still loved you.

he attempted to convince himself that it was merely platonic.

that did not work.

so, he ended up concluding that he could ignore what he felt for you. he could try to.

he remembers having a serious girlfriend in highschool, and at the beginning of their relationship, eren remembers wishing you were jealous.

but, you weren’t. you supported him and cheered him on. you even congratulated him on dating someone so pretty, your exact words being, “what’s she doing with you, she could do so much better, give her my number!”

after that relationship ended, eren’s feelings for you were only magnified. he would never tell you this, but it ended because his girlfriend knew he was in love with you.

he thinks that he did love her, she was kind to him, and pretty.

but she wasn’t you.

and for all his relationships thereafter, he found himself holding every romantic partner to the standards at which he regarded you, and no one lived up to those. this led to eren’s slew of pointless hookups and his renowned title as a “playboy.”

eren could be in a relationship if he wanted to. hell, he was captain of his college’s basketball team, and though he broke some hearts, it was never intentional.

he felt bad because he’d never intended to hurt anyone. eren had always been straightforward with his intentions, and had never made any promises that he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep.

he just simply didn’t want a relationship if it wasn’t with you.

and as he sipped his beer, and listened to his teammate make some joke, his eyes gravitated towards you, like they always did. you were talking to some girl from your chem class that you had invited. she had been quiet for most of the party, rarely chirping in during conversation.

that’s another thing, eren thinks that his love for you is also fueled by admiration. you’re so friendly, and people gravitate towards you, even though you deny it. eren’s always found it difficult to blend in, but you make it so easy for everyone around you.

and as he watched you smile and hold a stupid conversation, he could visibly see how the girl relaxed. you made people comfortable. you made him comfortable.

you could feel his eyes on you, and you turned to him, smiling cheekily before turning back to your friend.

you were going to be the death of him.

“ren’, come on, you can’t smoke in here,” you chastised eren before turning back to your chemistry textbook.

“come on angel,” eren muttered around the joint in his mouth, “there’s a reason there’s these private study rooms, and for me, personally, in order to study i need some recreational motivation.”

eren cast his signature grin towards you before bringing the lighter towards his joint. “eren s’gonna smell,” you warned, to which he simply shrugged his shoulders.

“at least open the window,” you begged, trying to focus on your work.

“fine, don’t get your panties in a twist,” eren puffed out after inhaling. he walked over to the window, fumbling with the latch for a minute, muttering a ‘fuck’ and ‘why would they make this so fuckin’ difficult’ before he finally got it open.

eren sat on the ledge, his legs dangling out of the window. “s’nice out today,” he hummed thoughtfully. upon your lack of reply, eren turned around to look at you. your eyes were slightly squinted as you tried to make more sense of the words on the page. you were muttering to yourself, which eren found rather endearing, might he add.

“we should go to the beach,” he said, still looking at you. you looked up at him, raising your eyebrows, “eren,” you sighed. “c’mon,” he pleaded softly, his feet back on the ground of the study room.

“you study so much, you should take a break,” eren reasoned, coming up behind your chair now. his hands found their way to your shoulders, making you suck in a sharp breath that you hoped wasn’t noticeable.

“y/n, i can literally feel the knots forming in your back already, you’re gonna be like dead by 40.”

he was massaging your shoulders as he continued to ramble. you let his smell invade your senses, the woody scent of his cologne, the hint of weed from the joint he had just smoked, and something like a sweet cinnamon smell.

“y’know you needa fix your posture,” eren teased, his hands falling from your shoulders. “oh fuck off,” you laughed softly before closing your textbook.

you didn’t miss the excitement that lit up in eren’s eyes at the small action. “let’s go, ren’,” you groaned softly, attempting to mask your own joy as you began packing up your school items.

“yes, fuck yes!” eren grinned, grabbing his backpack that had yet to be unpacked for the entirety of the study session.

you honestly don’t know how eren convinced you to do half of the things that he did. for example, this moment right now.

you had made it to the beach, and you and eren laid on a beach towel as the sun set. he ended up laying his head in your lap, which prompted him to force you to braid his hair.

he was rather demanding, and you told him as such, “i’m so surprised you’re not an only child,” to which eren scoffed and attempted to head butt your stomach, which only resulted in a slap to the forehead from you.

“ow!”

but that was an hour ago. now, you and eren were in the water, the both of you stripped down to your underwear. you were thankful that you had decided to wear a bra today, otherwise your bare tits and eren would have had an unlikely meeting.

he had somehow convinced you to go swimming, even though you tried to rationalize, “we don’t have swimsuits,” to which eren replied, “underwear, swimsuits, same thing.”

and he wasn’t necessarily wrong, but you wish he would’ve been. the water was cold, and yet you, you were anything but freezing.

in fact, you felt extremely hot, your face burning under the intensity of eren’s gaze.

it almost felt too cliche, the way you felt drawn to eren in that moment. he must of felt it too, because almost subconsciously, the two of you started to navigate closer to each other.

your faces were inches apart, your lips so close to brushing when eren whispered, “eyelash,” his thumb brushing across your cheek. that fucking asshole.

you couldn’t help the visible pout that made its way onto your face, eren softly laughing, “what’s the matter?” you chose to respond with actions rather than words, splashing eren with water.

“oh you’re dead,” he grinned, wading over to you now. you attempted to turn and run, looking back at him over your shoulder, but the water slowed your movements. “ren’, no! eren, eren no please!” you were laughing around your words as eren lifted you over his shoulder.

“did it to yourself, princess,” you swore you felt him softly slap your ass before he was dunking you underwater.

you came back up wiping at your eyes and coughing softly. “i’m gonna stab you one day, jaeger,”

“i’d love to see you try.”

“where’d you go?” eren whisper-shouted into your ear, the bass of the song playing was vibrating the walls of the living room.

“had to piss,” you yelled back, eren laughing softly. “wanna dance?” eren asked, his voice muted slightly by the music. you just nodded with a grin, grabbing eren’s hands and dragging him through the mass of bodies.

soon after you had made your way to the center of the poorly-coordinated mosh pit, sky by playboi carti started playing. you turned to eren, mouth open in an o, eren grinning at your silly expression.

you were close to each other, but that wasn’t that weird considering the other bodies pushing up against yours. you and eren began rapping the lyrics to one another, eren doing silly hand movements in front of your face causing you to laugh around the lyrics.

“she my bestfriend, yeah we not a couple,” eren’s arms were linking around your lower back now, pulling you closer to him as he continued singing the lyrics.

and you were attempting to be playful back, but you couldn’t really focus when you could smell his cologne, feel his stare and that annoying fucking smirk. you attempted to mask your flustered state with a light-hearted contempt.

eventually, the song ended and eren’s hand was falling to your hip, pulling you closer to him so that he could whisper in your ear. “you wan’ a refill?” he half-shouted over the music, to which you nodded, grabbing eren’s hand and dragging him towards the kitchen.

as the music and noise became muffled behind the kitchen walls, you were reaching into the bucket full of ice and grabbing two smirnoffs for you and eren. there were a few other people scattered throughout the kitchen as you turned around to hand eren one of the bottles. you leaned back against the countertop, watching eren pop his bottle open with his teeth.

he handed the bottle to you, grabbing the one from your hands, the brush of your fingers against his doing something to your heart that it should not have.

eren grinned at you after popping the cap off his bottle, taking a swig. “wonder where sash’ and connie went,” you said absentmindedly, sipping on your drink. “if i had to take a guess, sasha is in the pantry and con’ is probably trying to hold her back.”

you laughed softly, smiling at eren but before you could bounce off his joke with your own, someone was yelling, “body shots!”

once the words registered in eren’s head, he was giving you that cheeky smile, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the center of the kitchen. people had begun filtering in from the other rooms of the fraternity house as jean began setting down shot glasses, limes, salt, and tequila on the kitchen table.

jean stood on a chair, a couple whistles and ‘woops’ sounding out for him as he began talking, “as president of this lovely chapter of sigma alpha, it’s my job to carry on one of our most faithful traditions,” he got more whistles at that, his fraternity brothers cheering him on. what odd specimen.

“and, you all came here tonight for some fun, yeah?” the huddled crowd got louder at that. “then without further ado,” jean huffed, hopping down from his chair, “can i get a pretty volunteer up here?”

girls began pushing their way past each other, and so much for wondering where sasha was. there she appeared next to you, a donut in hand. “you should do it,” she mumbled around a mouthful, pushing you towards the front of the crowd.

eren opened his mouth in rebuttal, but you were already at the front, lined up beside fourteen other girls. jean smiled when he saw you make your way into the line, beginning his presidential speech once more, “now ladies, thank you for your dutiful service,” laughs filled the room at his small joke, “but it seems i’ll only need one volunteer.”

he began walking along the line with murmurs of “who to pick, choices, choices.” you knew jean was fucking with you, he knew you best out of all these girls and if he was being honest with himself, he’d been dying to get with you.

that task proved to be difficult, though, with eren as your guard dog.

now was his chance.

making his way down the line once more, he stopped in front of you, “now what’s your name?” jean teased, grinning at you. “y/n,” you said simply, “and yours?” the crowd oooo’ed at that, and you could hear eren’s laugh behind you.

“feisty, i like it,” “oh fuck off kirstein,” you laughed, brushing past him to sit atop the table. you began pouring tequila into one of the shot glasses before sitting back on your arms.

“are you gonna do it?” you grinned at jean, his eyes glinting with something unreadable as he smirked at you, “or do you not have the balls?” once more the crowd was hollering at your response, and jean was making his way over the table with a new determination.

he softly grabbed at your shoulder, pushing you to lay down flat on the table, your legs dangling off the edge. he grabbed a lime, chuckling around a husk, “open,” before placing the lime in your mouth.

he began sprinkling salt on the dip of your cleavage, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “tryna’ embarass me in front of everyone, huh?” a soft laugh falling from his lips as he grabbed the shot of tequila.

“to y/n!” jean shouted, the crowd falling in close pursuit, cheering as jean downed the shot of tequila. he was quickly leaning to lick the salt off of your body, the heat of his tongue shocking your system.

and then before you could even recover, his lips were on yours as he sucked the lime from your mouth and into his. he lingered for a moment longer, leaning up and spitting out the lime as he raised his arms with a smile.

his frat brothers came up behind him quickly, patting him on the back, and putting him in a chokehold. you sat up with a soft laugh, looking around the kitchen for eren. yet, he was already walking over to you, looking somewhat, angry?

eren was clicking his tongue to the roof of his mouth with a ‘tsk tsk tsk’ before turning to jean with a cocky grin. “it can’t be over yet, can it, pres?”

he was walking over to you now, grabbing the tequila bottle of the table. “yeah body shots are fun,” the whole crowd was intrigued by eren now, he was radiating an aura that was captivating everyone’s attention, “but i like something more...nasty, so to speak.”

“open,” was all he said before bringing the bottle up to his lips, and taking a swig. you obeyed his command without even realizing, and his hand was wrapping around your neck and pulling you closer to him.

you felt it before eren’s actions registered, the liquid from his mouth falling into yours. his lips brushed against yours for the slightest second before he pulled back with a grin. the alcohol was overwhelming your senses, but even so, you could taste the faintness of cinnamon from the mints that eren was constantly chewing.

“now swallow,” he hummed, gripping your neck a little tighter so that he could feel the liquid travel down your throat. “now how’s that for a shot?” he teased, turning back to the dumbfounded crowd.

the room was quickly full of roars and cheers, eren grabbing your hand and dragging you back to the center of the floor. the crowd was quick to follow, everyone dancing once more as eren pulled you against him.

you were too hazed to worry if he could feel the quickness of your heart beat, too comfortable with eren’s hands on your hips, pushing you further against him.

he was leaning down to your ear now, whispering something, his voice traveling straight down your body, “much better than horseface, huh, angel?”

you don’t know how or what god you have to thank for it, but you and eren somehow made it back to your shared apartment. eren was rummaging through the fridge as you sat on one of the stools at the countertop, your head in your hands as you groaned slightly.

eren was humming trademark usa by baby keem, that being the last song played before you and eren had eventually decided to bid everyone farewell. and somehow, drunk of your asses, the two of you had made it back home.

“wanagrilledcheese?” eren mumbled quickly, grabbing the cheese out of the fridge. “huh?” you laughed softly, eren laughing at the sound of yours.

“do...you...want....a....grilled....cheese?” eren said very slowly, grinning all the while. “yes.....i.....do.....thank....you,” you mocked, hopping off the stool with a slight wobble and making your way into the kitchen, over to eren.

“you forgot the butter,” you jokingly chastised, grabbing some from the fridge and handing it to eren. “how could i?” he joked back, placing his hand over his heart with a ‘shocked’ expression.

you laid your head on the arm eren wasn’t using, watching him cut the butter and place the slice into the pan, the heat causing it to sizzle and bubble.

eventually he was placing the bread in and laying cheese and bread on top of the slice. “this is gonna be so good,” eren hummed mindlessly, to which you nodded in agreement.

you grabbed the chocolate milk from the fridge, the one that eren had insisted on getting the last time you were at the grocery store(though you swear he doesn’t even drink it).

you poured two glasses for you and eren , bringing them to the kitchen table and sitting down. before too long, eren was in front of you with two plates, sitting in the chair beside you.

after taking a bite, you turned to eren with a closed-mouth grin, chewing on the grilled cheese.

no joke, you were pretty sure this was the best grilled cheese you’d had in your life.

or maybe you were just drunk.

either way, you were thanking eren endlessly to which he replied, “i know, i know,” jokingly patting himself on the back.

the two of you continue eating as you told eren about connie jumping off the roof and into the pool, “i looked away for like one second and that happens!” he sighs, exasperated, causing you to laugh softly, “it was so fucking funny ren’! you shoulda’ seen his face.”

laughter was mixed in with mouthfuls of cheese and bread, and sips of chocolate milk.

why are headaches a thing?

that is the question you found yourself asking at 1:18 PM. the pounding in your head was incessant, and may have been unbearable, if not for the way eren’s arm wrapped around your stomach.

he drew you closer to him in his sleep, nuzzling his nose into your neck with a deep exhale. “g’morning,” he spoke, his voice gravely. oh, so he was awake, and yet, that was not stopping him from pressing his body against yours.

you tried to ignore it, to quell the flippant pattern of your heart beat. “morning, ren’,” you said softly.

you both laid there for a few moments, neither of you wanting to move. after attempting to slow the quickening pace of your heart, and albeit reluctantly, you went to shuffle out of bed.

“no, come back,” eren grumbled, gripping tighter on your midsection. you turned over to face him, laughing softly at him as he squinted his eyes, “ren’, we have to get up eventually.”

“10 minutes,” eren mumbled, settling his head on your chest, barely above your breasts. there came your heart again, beating like nobody’s business. you’re pretty sure eren is this close to sending you into cardiac arrest.

“heart’s beating s’fast,” eren teased softly, “yeah cause you’re like a fucking furnance, feel like i’m gonna die of heat stroke,” you scoffed, attempting to mask your flustered state.

“a furnance? what are you 80?” eren said, voice still slightly husk as he looked up at you with an amused expression.

“that’s my final straw, i’m getting up” you laughed softly, moving to get out of bed. “no, i was just playing,” eren whined, chuckling softly as he watched you slip on your his slippers.

he remembers when you gave him those as a small part to his more than extravagant birthday present.

“these are for you!” eren couldn’t help but grin at how happy you looked, grabbing the shoe box from your hand.

he grabbed the tissue paper quickly discarding it to the side to see fur slippers. he looked up with an arched brow, confusion and humor on his face.

“just a way to make sure i don’t have to see your dogs 24/7!″

“my toes are beautiful and you know it, y/n,”

eren watched you grab your phone from its charging port across the room, and the way you all too comfortably grabbed a hoodie from his drawer. “are you gonna make breakfast or what?” eren said, sitting up in bed now, back against the headboard.

you turned to him, grabbing one of his shirts off the floor and tossing it at him. “now, you know damn well how my hangover routine goes,” eren laughing softly at your tone.

“yeah, yeah, i know, starbucks and you forcing me to drive,”

“well if you know, come on then, damn.”

“i swear to god i’m never drinking again,” you groaned from the passenger seat, you and eren waiting in the starbucks line.

“you say that every time, and then end up going out that same night,” eren turned to you smirking.

“i better not be sensing judgement from the one and only, jaeger bomb”

“that was one time!” eren huffed, causing you to laugh softly.

you tease him about that constantly. the two of you had been out at one of jean’s parties, and jean’s fraternity brothers had come up to eren, begging him to join their frat. “come on, jaeger-bomb”--this for real happened, by the way--“we need you as our alpha.”

upon hearing your laughter, eren’s cheeks flushed a bright red as he knew you’d never let that one go.

and here you are, cracking up in the passenger seat of his two-seater truck as though you’re the funniest person in the world.

“fuck off,” he scoffed, laughing softly as he pulled up to order. you were about to tell him what to get you, but he was one step ahead of you, “can i get a grilled cheese, and a mocha frap with no whip. oh and also an iced matcha latte?”

you smiled at the fact that he knew your order by heart now. not that it surprised you, because you guys spent so much time together, but it just felt good. safe.

“that’ll be 17.35,″ snapped you out of it as eren thanked the barista and pulled forward. you watched him pull out his card, despite your argument with your own card in your hand. eren handed you your food and drink before bringing one hand back to the steering wheel and pulling out of the drive-thru line.

you ate your grilled cheese in quiet happiness, eren turning to look at you every so often, smiling at the tranquil expression on your face.

okay, so maybe eren was right. you did have a tendency to complain about hangovers and then go out and get drunk the very same night. for example, tonight. you couldn’t reject sasha’s invitation to karaoke, and as you always did, you dragged eren along with you.

as you scrolled through the karaoke list, the vodka thrumming in your system so sweetly, you were perfectly content in your dazed state. sasha squealed pulling you from your mind fart as she tapped incessantly on your shoulder.

“they have take a hint, we have to do it!” she exclaimed, and upon her words registering, you were sharing that same excitement. eren was simply reclined on the comfy sofa of the karaoke room booth, watching you with a hint of amusement.

somehow, you and sasha managed to scramble on stage with two mics as the music began. you started to jokingly strut around one another as the music began playing as sasha started singing tori’s line.

the song ended with some squeaky high-notes and less-than-par dance moves, but eren couldn’t help but grin from his seat as he watched you move around the stage, all care-free and pretty.

“you know my mom gave me this recipe,” eren hummed around the spoon, tasting the pasta sauce. “needs some more basil,” he muttered under his breath, reaching into the spice cabinet.

“i remember her making it for us before homecoming, you remember that?” you laughed softly at the memory, eren joining in.

it was your freshman year homecoming, and you were very much still in your awkward phase, as was eren. you wore a sparkly, poofy, yellow dress, and eren matched in a poorly-fitting black suit, with a yellow spongebob tie.

after pictures with armin and mikasa, you and eren went back to his house, where his mom was making her infamous rotini pasta. you still remember eren spilling some on his suit, and the mouthful he got from carla.

“god,” eren sighed around a soft chuckle, “she was so mad at me for spilling it on myself.”

“well she did say like 5 times to be careful while you eat.”

“you know she’s not here right now, you don’t have to be a kiss ass.”

you hit eren in his arm softly, smiling up at him as he continued to stir the pasta sauce. he lifted the spoon from the pan, bringing it close to your lips with a small, “here try some.”

you were all too quick to obedience, opening your mouth in a small ‘o’. eren put the spoon into your mouth, the basil from the sauce instantly flooding your senses. you were staring up at eren as he said softly, “is it good?”

“mhm,” you hummed around the spoon, feeling your cheeks flush with heat. he pulled the spoon away, albeit reluctantly, the both of you still looking at one another.

you broke the tension by clearing your throat and declaring, “i think we need some wine, yeah?”

two glasses in and you were already feeling it. you weren’t a lightweight usually, but wine just made you feel...carefree, so to speak.

and unbeknownst to you, eren was feeling similar.

“have you ever been in love?” eren asked, out of the blue, the two of you sitting curled up on the couch, your plates from dinner sitting on the coffee table.

“i don’t know,” you hummed softly before continuing, “i think that’s an answer in itself, y’know? like, if i had ever been in love, i’d know what that felt like and could give a for-sure answer.”

eren hummed, nodding, the two of you growing quiet.

“have you?” you asked, eren looking up from the rim of his wine glass as he took a sip.

“have i what?” “been in love.”

“oh,” eren said, almost surprised, “i don’t know.”

you both laughed softly at that, “i don’t think i know what love really is, so i can’t define whether or not i’ve been in love.”

“i agree,” you spoke, your voice gentle, “but you’ve felt platonic love, you know with your mom, your friends, with me.”

eren had to contain a laugh from slipping out at that last one. platonic love, for you? what a joke. instead of laughing he just agreed with a “mhm.”

“don’t know if i’m cut out for anything more than platonic love, if i’m being honest,” you continued, the wine slowly, but surely, chipping away at your filter.

“why do you say that?” eren said, eager to know the answer.

you sighed softly, tracing your finger along the rim of the wine glass as you spoke softly, “being in love, you know real love, means showing people the worst parts of you. it means being vulnerable, and i-” you choke up for a moment, quickly clearing your throat in an attempt at a recovery, “i can’t do that.”

“but you can,” eren said seriously, moving closer to you, his knee nudging against yours. “you’re vulnerable with me, i’ve seen you, i know you, what’s to say you can’t do that with,�� this next part pained him to say, “s-somebody else?”

“i’m only vulnerable cause, cause it’s you ren’, don’t wanna be that way with anyone else.”

fuck, you’re trying to kill him.

you both fell silent for a moment before eren looked over at you, he had never seen you look so....embarrassed. “well it’s the same for me,” he said softly. god, he sounded like a 12 year old all over again.

“i’m only this way with you.” he finished, looking down at his wine glass.

the two of you smiled at each other, taking sips from your wine as the melodies of otis redding continued playing in the background.

since the start of highschool, it’s been tradition within your friend group to spend the first days of spring break in jean’s dad’s cabin. mikasa, ymir, historia, annie, and armin had gone down a day earlier since they had finished their finals before everyone else.

the cabin was about 2 hours from paradis, and the car ride usually consisted of jean and connie fighting over who was on aux, until one subsided. this time, jean was the one to lose but not without going on tangent.

“fine con’ go ahead n be a fuckin’ dipshit and play some fuckin’ horrible music for the rest of the car ride, go ahead, i don’ care, even though i’m fucking driving so, i should have aux, but whatever, s’fine,” you swore you felt the car swerve as jean ranted.

the top was off of jean’s red convertible. the wind was brushing against your face, causing your eyes to water. connie was in the passenger seat, and you were sat in the middle of the backseat between sasha and eren.

you turned over to look at eren, who was admiring the scene passing by him. the pretty brown wisps of hair that had come down to frame his face were blowing from the breeze. he turned to look over at you, catching you staring, to which he raised one eyebrow with a genuine smile.

you simply just turned back to look straight ahead, laughing softly. eventually the city subsided into a beautiful forest with large sequoia trees. the roads began to curve a little more and you couldn’t help but look up at the trees towering over you.

california love came on shuffle through the car stereo, connie wooping loudly before singing, terribly by the way, off-key, “california looooovee!” you all laughed softly, joining in as you began rapping along to the song.

unbeknownst to you, eren had yet to look away from your face. he watched your pretty lips form the lyrics, and the silly expressions you made as you mindlessly sang along.

you are so fucking pretty.

the rest of the group greeted you outside, jean parking his car in front of the house in the large circular driveway. he was so fucking rich that it was actually mind-blowing if you stopped to think about it.

mikasa and armin came up to you and eren, giving you both big hugs. armin offered to carry your bags in for you, but eren quickly said “there’s no need,” and grabbed your bags along with his.

you followed mikasa into the house and up the stairs as she led eren to yours and hers shared room. “you can set her bag down here, eren, n’ your room is jus’ down the hall,” she said.

“i’ll see you guys back downstairs,” she smiled, her tone filled with implications.

eren set your bags down by the closet before sitting down on the bed and looking at you, “you guys always get the good room,” he joked before laying down on the bed.

you laughed softly, walking over to sit down on the bed beside him. you laid down too, turning over to look at him before looking back up at the ceiling. “can’t believe this is like our 7th year coming here,” eren sighed softly.

“me either,” eren turned to look at you before looking back up at the ceiling. he was praying that his cheeks weren’t flushed pink. “m’glad you’re in my life ren’,” you said softly, looking at him once more.

this time though, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. and neither could eren.

“m’glad you’re in my life too, cupcake,” you giggled at the nickname, eren grinning at the pretty sound. interrupting the sweet moment was the hollers off all your friends and connie’s shout of, “drink up bitch!”

you both chuckled before eren sat up, leaning back on his arms and looking down at you.

“ya wanna go kick some ass in beer pong?”

“you know i do.”

and that it is exactly what the two of you proceeded to do. you and eren were a force to be reckoned with. eren’s celebrations for you sinking the small ping pong ball into one of the beer-filled solo cups differed each time.

the first time he simply just nodded with a teasing, “okay, i see you!”

the second was a silly hip bump, though unaware of his own strength, you were tumbling over a little, to which eren grabbed you and pullled you back up steady, the two of you giggling.

it was evident that the two tequila shots that you and eren had taken before the game were kicking in.

and when you got the game-winner, eren grabbed you around the waist, lifting you up and spinning you around, your sharp squeal sounding throughout the room.

if you had been sober, you would have seen mikasa shaking her head as though she knew something that the two of you didn’t.

eren put you back down, still grinning as he flipped connie off. connie just groaned with a “kiss my fucking ass, bro.”

the rest of the night was drinking games, and jean finally got to be on aux. around 1:00, though, everyone started to call it a night. apart from you and eren.

the two of you were sat at the kitchen table, and you were fiddling with the cap of another smirnoff. eren promptly grabbed the bottle from your hands, opening it with his teeth.

you offered a sweet, “thank you,”, taking a small swig from the bottle. eren was nursing a beer that was probably luke-warm by now, but he didn’t care.

he couldn’t find it in him to care, not with you sitting right next to him, looking like an angel.

eren attempted to shake those thoughts away, his voice wavering as he began to talk, “y-you wanna go down to the lake?” eren asked, standing up and looking down at you.

you raised your eyes to look at him, flustered at how big he looked standing over you, “s-sure!” you said, standing.

one of eren’s hands fell to the small of your back, leading you to the back door and opening it for you. the cabin had a dock that attached to the back patio and the expansive backyard.

the two of you walked down the wooden dock, a soft silence falling over you. upon reaching the end, you looked up at the night sky. the moon was casting a soft glow over the two of you, and there were so many stars out.

you always loved coming out here, especially because of how pretty the nights were. you sat down, your legs hanging off the edge of the dock, eren quickly following suit.

“s’pretty” he muttered, still looking up at the sky, “mhm” was the only answer you could give as you admired the side of eren’s face.

“ask me something,” eren said abruptly, turning to look at you. you sputtered around words for a second, embarrassed at getting caught staring, before you were able to form a “huh?”

“ask me a question,” eren repeated, “anything you wanna know.”

“i already know everything about you, ren’.”

“not everything.”

a soft silence fell over the two of you once more before you sighed, “okay,” you planned to blame this on the alcohol ruining your filter in the morning, but in all honesty, you had always wanted to know what you were about to ask.

when eren had broken up with his highschool sweetheart, he hadn’t offered any explanation, just that “it was a mutual decision.”

something about it irked you, especially because when eren talked to you about her, he made her seem like his whole world.

“why’d you break up with historia?” you asked, quickly pressing your lips together after the question fell onto the peaceful silence of the night air.

eren would also blame his lack of filter on the alcohol when he woke up tomorrow morning.

“because of you.”

your eyes widened, turning to look at eren in a sort of disbelief. the look in your eyes was enough for eren to know that you wanted him to explain further.

“sh-she....historia,” his voice got really small at the next part, “historia thought i was in love with you.”

the air was not peaceful anymore, no. now it was full of tension, of withheld confessions.

you almost stopped yourself from muttering your next two, simple words;

“w-were you?”

“don’t play dumb, y/n.”

the silence was back once more. you turned to look at eren, and you swore you saw a glimpse of his 12 year old-self. you hadn’t seen him take on such a shy demeanor in so long, but with the way he was looking down at his lap, fiddling with his hands, it was like he was that small boy all over again.

“ask me a question.” you said boldly, eren almost getting whiplash from how quick he turned to look at you.

“w-what?” “ask me a question, eren.”

you were hoping that he would ask the right one.

“oh-um, okay, um,” he hummed to himself for a moment, and you kept taking glimpses at him out of your peripheral.

his cheeks were flushed pink, his lips opening and closing a couple times before he finally got the courage to ask, “why haven’t you ever been in a relationship?”

you smiled softly to yourself. he asked the right one. eren was oblivious to your small glee, attempting to clarify his question, scared he might of offended you.

“w-well, i mean! uh-i know you’ve like uh-” he cleared his throat, “been with people, but i mean, t-there’s never been anything serious so, i guess i’m...hm, i’m just wondering, why?”

your smile grew at eren’s rambling before your answer fell from your lips.

“because of you.”

eren’s eyes were on you again, and he was praying that you couldn’t see the desperation behind them.

“w-why?”

“do you even have to ask, eren?”

and there was that silence more. it wasn’t peaceful, nor was it tense. it was in a state of juxtaposition; content, but eager for more.

it was always like this with you and eren, beating around the bush with your feelings. there’d be innuendos, unspoken answers, but neither of you had ever been outright with your feelings.

perhaps it was the fear of the losing the best thing, the best person in your life. that was enough to quell the incessant beating both of your hearts.

even if you couldn’t have eren in the way you wanted him, you still had him. he was still here, sitting next to you, talking to you. that was more than enough, right?

you nor eren would let your feelings overturn the years of friendship. neither of you would be able to cope with the gravity of losing the other.

you couldn’t deal with the thoughts racing through your mind, standing up and holding your hand out to eren.

“you ready to go in?” he nodded, grabbing your hand.

neither of you let go as you walked back to the cabin, and up the stairs to the bedrooms.

“so, um, goodnight ren’.”

“goodnight, cupcake.” you both smiled at the nickname, letting go of one another’s hands and walking your separate ways.

you opened the door to your room, expecting to see mikasa sprawled out over the bed, but to your surprise it was empty. you stood there for a second, confused, tired, n’ drunk.

“huh, where’s she-” you muttered to yourself, eren interrupting you with a whisper-shout down the hallway, “think i found her!”

you walked over to eren, who was still standing outside his room. you peered inside to find jean and mikasa in bed, a white sheet covering their body. mikasa’s arm was over jeans stomach, jean’s arm wrapping around her waist as they snuggled into one another.

“i’m so gonna give her shit about this in the morning,” you laughed softly, eren chuckling as he turned to look at you. you were smiling as you snapped a quick picture, and eren wasn’t sure if his heart could take anymore of you tonight.

“you can, uh, come sleep with me tonight if you want,” you offered.

eren tried to stop it, he really did but his cheeks were flushing pink as he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”

he watched as you closed the room to his jean and mikasa’s room softly, before following you down the hall to your room. it all felt like eren was watching this blur past him. sure the two of you had slept in the same room, many many times, but he’d basically just confessed to previously being in love with you.

and he was pretty sure you were smart enough to infer that he still was very much in love with you.

he was sitting on your bed, taking his shirt and his pants off, because, well, he forgot to grab clothes. sure, it was just a walk down the hall, but he was tired.

and then, eren watched your shirt come off. he saw the lacy intricacy of your bralette before you turned away from him and towards the dresser. you unclipped the clasps of your bra, and eren swears he almost dissolved into the bed.

just the image of your back, your bare back in front of him, was enough to have him popping a semi. he brought his hand to his bulge, silently hissing as he willed it to go away.

you grabbed a big white shirt, which he was pretty sure was his, and tugged it over your body. next came your shorts, and thankfully he couldn’t see anything due to how large the shirt was.

eren decided that he needed to get under the covers before he embarrassed himself. you turned around seeing eren already under the covers.

the way his eyes lingered on you made heat travel through your body.

“tired, huh, ren’?” you laughed softly, eren smiling as you made your way to your side of the bed. he turned over to face you as he mumbled, “tired doesn’t even cover it,” a soft smile on his face.

you lifted the covers up, catching a glimpse of eren’s toned abdomen, choosing, more so attempting, to ignore the image.

you both laid there, keeping your distance. you opened your eyes, saying a soft, “goodnight, ren’.”

eren didn’t respond back, his hand simply came to your waist as he said a soft, “c’mere,” and pulled you in closer to him. your face was nuzzled into his shoulder, eren’s head softly bumping against yours.

your legs were slowly becoming entangled with one another, and eren’s grip on your waist was holding you close to him.

“goodnight,” he sighed, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead.

everyone slept in the next morning, but eventually the sound of pans and movement throughout the kitchen lulled you and eren out of your sanctuary of sleep.

“m gonna go grab somethin’ to eat, ren,” you mumbled into his chest, still not moving. “mhm, go head,” he huffed, his breathing slow as he pulled you into him more. if you were being honest, there’s was no way you were getting up and leaving the embrace of eren’s arms.

the two of you laid there, reveling in your shared warmth until you heard a knock on the door. you and eren quickly moved to opposite sides of the bed, practically falling off the edge from how fast you separated from each other.

“c-come in!” you shouted, turning to look at eren for a second before turning back to look at the door.

its not that either of you cared if your friends saw you sleeping together, but you didn’t want them to get the wrong idea. y’know....think there’s something there when there isn’t. cause there isn’t.

sasha opened the door and you could see the big grin on her eye turn into a suspiciously-sweet smile. “goodmorning!” she paused for a moment, looking between the two of you before stopping on eren, “nico’s downstairs making breakfast if you wanna go help, eren.”

eren sat there for a good minute, thinking of what the most logical route was.

why would i go help? sasha knows i can’t cook for shit, what is she--oh. they’re about to talk shit on me. oh. okay. y/n is gonna tell her how she woke up to me being little spoon, fuck, okay, uh--

“yeah, uh, i’ll go do that,” eren said, quickly getting out of bed, but he was forgetting one major detail. he only had on briefs.

sahsa yelped with a cry of, “why are you butt-ass naked right now? oh my god!”

“i have briefs on sash for fucks sakes!”

“it-it’s not what it looks like!” you sputtered from the bed as eren pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his sweats from the floor.

“g-get out!” sasha cried jokingly, trying not to laugh, “you are banned until further notice” she pointed a finger at eren as he chuckled slipping on his sweats.

he just shook his head as he started walking towards the bedroom door. he slid past sasha with a “see you downstairs, bozo,” and turned to you with a softer, “see you in a minute, y/n,”

“mhm” you replied, a soft smile on your face as you watched eren’s figure leave the doorway.

sasha watched him walk down the hall and once he got to the top of the staircase and began walking down, her head whipped towards you. “what. the. fuck.” she mouthed before closing the door and hopping on the bed.

“sashhh,” you whined, not ready for her incessant questions. “come on, y/n! you know i have to ask, mika would do the same!”

“you cannot tell mikasa, she will never let me forget about it,” you cried, putting your head in your hands as sasha laughed softly.

“don’t worry, she has no room to talk with all the shit she’s doing with jean,” sasha grimaced as she continued speaking, “the walls are so thin here, you can hear....everything, and i mean everything.”

you laughed softly, sasha smiling before she continued, “sooo.....”

“nothing happened,” you said, sasha raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “seriously we didn’t kiss or fuck or anythin,” you huffed out a breath before continuing, “last night was just...weird, n’ not bad just weird.”

“how so?” sasha asked as she shuffled across the bed to lay against the headboard. “s’just...we went down to the lake, right?” sasha nodded as you continued, “and we basically confessed to liking each other when we were younger,” you mumbled quickly, sasha’s mouth falling open in a soft ‘o’ before she laughed softly.

“and what about now? did you guys talk about how you feel now?”

your stomach dropped at that as you turned to sasha with furrowed eyebrows, “nothing’s happening now, me n’ ren’ are just friends.” “ren’?” sasha teased.

“stop, i’m serious, it’s not like that,” you crossed your arms over your chest, unsure if you were trying to convince sasha or yourself. “okay,” sasha subsided, “there’s pancake downstairs when you’re ready, lover girl,” sasha sung the nickname as she opened the door.

“you’re so corny, sasha,” you giggled softly, standing up from bed. “n’ you love me,” she hummed, following you down the hall. “yeah, yeah,” you teased, walking down the steps of the staircase.

everyone was already sitting at the table. eren’s head perked up at the sound of footsteps and he smiled once he saw you. you sat in the chair next to him, eren sliding his plate in between the two of you.

“saved you a chocolate chip one, know they’re your favorite,” eren smiled, the expression mirrored on your face.

“thanks , ren.”

the rest of the trip was really fun. connie tried to drown jean, which was normal, jean then returned the favor. niccolo barbecued, which was probably your favorite part.

eren went back to his room and mikasa came back to yours.

so there was that.

jean drove you, eren, sasha, and connie back. you and eren were the last stop, and you thanked jean again for driving and letting you guys stay.

“of course, always,” he smiled at you. “text when you get home please,” you said sweetly. jean chuckled, hoping his cheeks didn’t flush too pink at your thoughtfulness, “i always do,” he said softly.

eren was quick with a “bye horseface, thanks,” grinning at jean, who quickly flipped eren off. the engine of jean’s convertible roared as he drove off from yours and eren’s apartment complex.

“you guys are so sweet to each other,” you teased, eren laughing softly. “gimme your bag,” eren grunted, and you knew better than to argue with him about carrying your own things.

you grabbed the keys from your back pocket, unlocking the door to the apartment complex and holding it open for eren. the elevator ride up to yours and eren’s apartment was quiet, the two of you tired from the car ride.

as soon as you made it into your apartment eren dropped the bags by the door and slumped onto the couch. you laughed at eren’s long legs falling over the armrest of the couch as you walked into the kitchen.

“ren’, you want some water?” you yelled softly, receiving an affirmative, “please,” from eren. you walked back into the living room, setting eren’s glass on top of the table.

“m gonna head to bed,” you said softly, looking down at eren who’s eyes were shut softly. “i’ll come with you,” he said, his voice low. you could only get out a soft “okay, c’mon then.”

eren grabbed his water, and walked behind you towards your room. you were too tired to change and the clothes you were in were comfortable enough.

the same could not be said for eren.

he ditched his shirt and sweats, leaving him in his boxer briefs. as soon as his pants came off you forced yourself to look away and try to let sleep take you over.

you felt eren slide under the comforter, lying right beside you. and though you couldn’t see it, you knew eren was close. you cold feel his knee touching the back of yours, and although faint, you could feel his soft breath on the back of your neck.

“thanks for letting me sleep in here,” eren said softly.

“always, ren’.”

one thing about eren is that he can roll a good blunt. and god, did he look good while doing it. a tray was sitting in his lap, a grinder, weed, rolling paper and a lighter on it.

eren was so concentrated, tapping the rolled joint against the tray. after he was finished, he placed the joint between his lips and handed you the lighter with a soft grin.

“would you do the honors,” he mumbled around the joint to which you smiled. you came closer to eren’s face, striking the lighter. the flame flickered between yours and eren’s faces as you brought the flame towards the tip of the joint.

eren took in a deep inhale, blowing the smoke out of his lips, turning to you with a soft grin and holding the joint out to you.

you accepted it, gratefully, inhaling and letting the smoke fill your lungs before you exhaled. “can we shotgun it ren’?” you asked, scooting a little closer to eren. you didn’t miss the pink that flushed to his cheeks, “yeah, you want to? c’mere,” eren said, reaching for the joint.

you shook your head softly, eren arching an eyebrow in confusion. “i wanna try blowing it into your mouth,” you smiled softly, eren’s eyes widening a little bit before he nodded.

eren’s body tingled when your hand came to hold his chin softly and your sultry, “open up,” almost had him ruining his pants.

eren was quick to listen, his pink lips parting as you took an inhale from the joint. you leaned closer to him, your lips brushing for just a moment as you blew the smoke into eren’s mouth.

you pulled away, still looking at eren as you watched him exhale a cloud of smoke. “did i do good?” you teased, eren just smiling with a slow nod, his eyes raking up and down your figure.

you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle eren teasing you back, so you quickly shifted conversation, “y’hungry ren?”

obviously that was the wrong question to ask because eren was licking his lips and eyeing you down with an “mhm.”

“i-ill order us something!” you said scurrying off the bed and grabbing your phone from eren’s desk.

“thanks dude,” eren nodded towards the doordasher, shutting the apartment door behind him. you looked over at him from your spot on the couch, turning back around as eren walked over.

he set the bags of food on the coffee table, plopping down beside you on the couch. you watch as eren unties the bags, setting your food in front of you on the table.

you open up your sushi, asking eren to “hand me the soy sauce, please,” the two of you eat in peaceful silence, the high you’re experiencing softly settling over the two of you.

“you wan’ one of mine?” eren asks holding his tray out to you. you nod and eren grabs a piece with his chopsticks and brings it towards your mouth. he got a california roll, per usual, but you had to admit it was pretty good.

“mm” you hummed around the roll, eren smiling as he watched you chew, “s’good huh?” he said, to which you smiled. “want one of mine?” you mumbled around the food in your mouth, eren laughing softly at the way your words were jumbled.

“ywes plewase” eren mocked you, but opened his mouth, patiently awaiting you to hand feed him a roll. you laughed softly, grabbing a piece of the sushi with your chopsticks and bringing it to eren’s lips.

“woah,” he mumbled as he chewed, “wanna swap?” he asked after finishing the piece, beginning to reach for your tray. “funny, ren’,” you said, grabbing your tray from the table and holding it to the right of you.

“you’re not gonna share with me,” eren jokingly pouted, “guess i’ll just have to take it from you then huh?” he began reaching over you, one hand resting on your thigh, the other reaching for the tray of sushi that you held far to the right of you.

eren could grab it if he wanted to you, his wingspan being much larger than yours, but he was far too content with listening to your soft giggles and feeling the warmth of your skin under his palm.

“come in, come in,” your mom said, ushering you and eren into the house. “how was the drive down?” your mother asked as you and eren followed her into the kitchen. “wasn’t too bad,” you answered, as eren pulled out a seat for you at the kitchen table.

your mom was stirring some sauce at the stove, and eren was taking his coat off and setting it on the back of his chair.

“do you need any help with anything, mrs. y/l/n?” eren asked, your mom turning around to gift him with a big grin. “oh no honey! you sit, you must be tired from driving all this way.”

eren sat next to you as your mom began plating dinner, and called for your dad. “he’s napping again,” she muttered, calling for him louder this time. “m’coming hold on!” your dad yelled from upstairs, and eren couldn’t help but laugh at your parents antics.

your dad made his way downstairs, grinning when he saw eren. he bounded over to him, eren standing up as your dad pulled him for a hug, patting him on the back.

well, it was more like a slap on the back, your dad was pretty heavy handed. your father pulled away, still grinning, “how come you didn’t call me down earlier, i didn’t know eren was here,” “oh, hi dad,” you said jokingly, “yeah, yeah you too,” your dad teased, coming over to kiss you on the cheek.

your family sat with you and eren, asking the two of you questions about college and life. you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself at how invested they were when eren would speak.

when dinner finished up, eren gathered the dishes from the table and headed towards the sink, “i’ll wash up,” he offered turning towards your mom who was already objecting, “the cook never cleans,” he stopped her before she could tell him no.

she laughed softly, patting eren on his back, “thank you, eren,” she smiled, “ya could rub off on this one a little, she hates doing dishes,” your mom pointed at you. you laughed at the insinuation. learn...from..eren ? if only she knew what he got up to.

“yeah, yeah, eren’s amazing,” you joked, your mom coming over to you. “your beds all made up, and i laid out a mat on the floor for eren,” “thanks mom,” you gave her a hug from your chair.

“you kids sleep good, see you in the morning!” she said, heading out of the kitchen. eren was still washing dishes as he spoke, “she laid out a mat for me,” he laughed softly, “think she knows that we practically share a room?”

you chuckled at that, standing up from your chair and walking over to the kitchen island and sink where eren was washing dishes. “don’t tell her, it’ll destroy her,” you joked, eren grinning at you.

you propelled yourself up on to the island, sitting on the island as you watched eren scrub one of the plates. “thank you,” you said softly, eren looking up at you.

“for what?” he asked.

“everything,” you answered.

“getting sentimental on me, huh?” eren teased.

“anddd the moment’s over,” you laughed softly, eren chuckling. “get back to scrubbing bus boy,” you nudged eren with your foot.

“oi!”

everytime you and eren visited home, you always split the trip in two. half of the time was spent at your house, and the other half was spent at his.

today was your second day at eren’s and carla was helping you build a charcuterie board for the family picnic. “i saw one on pinterest that included chocolate shaped as roses.”

carla gasped at that, layering the salami to create a flower shape, “that sounds like too much work,” “agreed,” you laughed softly.

the two of you began to pack the picnic basket with drinks and sandwiches, eren coming back inside from loading the car with sports balls and blankets.

he watched from the hallway as his mom laughed at a joke you made, and he couldn’t help the smile from breaking out on his face. he felt like a lovesick fool.

he decided it was time to announce his presence before he became anymore embarrassing, “car’s all loaded, ma,” he said walking over to the two of you.

“thank you baby,” she said, grabbing the picnic basket and handing it to eren for him to carry.

the car ride over was pretty short, and you and eren unpacked the car as zeke and carla laid out the blankets in the grassy field of the park. grisha was called in for a last minute surgery, so he couldn’t come with today. zeke was back in town visiting and he did not miss a beat on teasing eren for his crush on you.

after a delicious lunch, and many compliments from eren on yours and carla’s charcuterie board, zeke offered up the idea of basketball. you and carla had decided boys vs girls was the way to play, and the two of you quickly huddled up to devise a game plan.

the two of you also decided that girls should get the ball first, just because. the game started with you playing point guard and eren as your defender. he smirked at you as the two of you checked the ball.

should he go easy on you? nah.

he was right up on you, playing defense. and the way he towered over you was flustering you, but you needed to focus, you had a game to play!

you tried to get past eren, to no avail, but you were able to pass the ball to carla.

now, eren didn’t get his athleticism from nowhere. carla pulled it from the 3-point line, and it was a straight sinker.

you cheered loudly running over to carla as she brought you in for a big hug. you stuck out an L at eren, to which he shook his head softly, laughing.

“okay, c’mon then, get on defense n i’ll show you sumn’,” he said, voice low.

you and eren checked the ball, and you jokingly waved your arms up and down in a crazy manner. eren was quick to juke you out, it was embarrassing honestly, and pulled it from the 3 point line and sunk it.

it’s safe to say the rest of the game proceeded in a similar manner, zeke and eren developing a steady lead. at the end of the game you shook your head with joking mutters of “rigged,” and carla joined in with, “did you score the first point, though? nope.”

on the ride back home, carla rolled the windows down, and eren watched you from the other side of the backseat. you had yet to stop smiling the entire day, and so had he.

the walls of yours and eren’s apartment were very thin. and eren knew that. so when he decided to jack off at 5 pm when he “thought you weren’t home!”

was it intentional?

no way!

and when you sat on your bed, listening to eren’s pretty groans and whimpers that was in no way on purpose.

and when your hands began to trace down your body, unbuttoning your pants and sliding under your panties, it was just a coincidence that you happened to be doing it at the same time as eren.

and god, if his ears didn’t perk up at that first pretty sound you made. his hand stalled on his cock, needing to hear more. but as he went quiet, so did you.

he was guessing that you might of needed a little motivation. he began stroking his cock once more, moaning as he threw his head back at the image of you touching yourself in the room right next door.

and there you went. your soft moans, albeit muffled, were music to eren’s ears.

they were making him feel more and more bold.

“fuck, need you,” he groaned, thumbing at the slit of his cock with a whimper. he moaned again, tuning his ears in for what he hoped could be an unspoken reply.

“m all yours,” you whined and with two more strokes, eren was cumming with a loud moan and a couple curses. he could tell you followed soon after, listening to your whimpers increase in volume until...silence, and a short whine after.

the apartment was then dead quiet, neither of you moving or speaking. even your breath was soft and bated.

it seems both of you may have been tired of beating around the bush.

but, life went back to normal. neither of you made a move, and that shared moment of unspoken ecstasy went unmentioned between the two of you.

you couldn’t lie and say you weren’t disappointed, but you couldn’t expect eren to balls up and say something when you couldn’t either.

you were sitting in the passenger seat of eren’s two-seater pick up truck as he drove down melone drive. the windy road lead to yours and eren’s favorite lookout. there was a small lake there that you and eren had found during highschool, and you’d been coming to it ever since.

it was so quiet out here, and that was one of the things you and eren loved about it. it was only the two of you out here.

and it never had to be anything else.

you grabbed your towel out from the bed of the truck as you unbuttoned your shorts. eren leaned on the hood of his truck laughing softly, “already?” he joked.

you turned to look at him over your shoulder, grinning, “i wanna swim c’mon ren!”

your shirt was next, and eren had to look away. he peeled of his white cotton t-shirt, already in swim trunks as he followed you into the water. he watched as you floated on the surface, looking up at the crescent shaped moon.

mesmerizing. that’s all eren can think when he looks at you. he’s so captivated by everything you do. and now he’s coming closer to you as you stand upright. the water’s still shallow here and your feet plant at the floor of the lake.

“ren, what’s wrong?” you ask as eren stops in front of you, just looking down at you.

“i-” he huffs out a breath, looking down at the water that’s reflecting the light of the moon. “i can’t do this anymore, y/n,” he looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“huh? can’t do what? eren, if you don’t wanna swim, we can get out now.”

eren shakes his head with a mutter of “s’not that.”

his heart is beating so fast, it feels like it’s about to fall out of his chest. he thinks about the moments he’s had with you in all his years of knowing you. he thinks of every laugh of yours, of each fight, of every shared moment of eagerness for more.

and then, he thinks about all the new moments he wants to have with you. he wants to know what it’s like to love you. he wants to be with you in every way. he wants to wake up to you in the morning and kiss you. he wants to cook for you and spoil you with gifts. he wants to marry you and watch you grow full with his kids. he wants to have a life with you. he wants to know what it's like to give you all his love, to give you everything he’s worth.

he hopes his words can convey that.

“i can’t beat around the bush anymore. we’ve bee playing this game for 9 years and i can’t anymore.”

“eren, what are you saying?”

“you have to know i love you, y/n. you know, i thought the way i looked at you would be enough for you to know i love you. you can’t see how i look at you? i can’t ever tear my eyes off you n’ i’ve never wanted to.”

eren’s panting now, and his heart beat is still so quickened, “i want to hear everything you have to say. i tease you so much cause’ hearing you laugh makes everything better. you make everything better. you’re what i think about as soon as i wake up, and you’re my only thought as i fall asleep.”

you’re watching him with watering eyes now as he continues, “and i-” he’s huffing out another breath, “i can’t, i can’t just be friends with you anymore, y/n, i thought i could but i can’t. and i’m sorry if that puts you in a weird position, but i needed you to know how i feel because i just can’t take this anymore.”

eren stops there, and he feels as though he has to manually force himself to breath. he watches you, watches one tear trickle down your cheek before you jump up and wrap your arms around his neck.

he’s quick to catch your legs and he listens to you sniffle into his shoulder. “ren’,” you hiccupp, “i love you n i always have.”

he’s holding you tighter at your words. eren doesn’t ever want to let you go and now, he knows he never will. you pull back to look at eren and his eyes are watering too.

you bring one hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb against his skin softly. your lips are gravitating towards one another, and they meet, hesitantly, before you’re falling, plummeting into one another.

you’re breathing one another in, your lips moving in dance as eren’s grip on you tightens. your hands are drifting to his hair now and eren’s moaning into your lips.

you pull away breathless, panting into eren’s lips, “i need you, ren.”

your words are all eren needs to start walking out of the lake, with you still wrapped around his figure. he’s glad there’s already a blanket laid in the bed of the truck as he sets you down on the edge of the bed.

he’s leaning over you and kissing you, his hands holding your cheeks tenderly.

you’re smiling that beautiful smile of yours as you pull away and scoot further into the bed of the truck. you begin to giggle as eren makes his way over to you and now he’s laughing too.

eren’s lips are on your neck now and he’s blessed with finally hearing the sounds of your pleasure up close. he’s fiddling with the top of your bikini and you’re leaning up to quickly undo the clasp.

nothing could have prepared eren for this moment. he’s known his whole life that you were breathtaking but seeing you in this manner was the final nail in his coffin.

your pretty nipples were hard from the night air, and eren went with his first instinct and wrapped his lips around one. you were moaning now and your hands were gripping eren’s hair and undoing his messy hair bun.

his fingers twisted and flicked your other nipple and now eren was pulling away from your chest. he was grabbing your breasts, squeezing them in his hands as he licked his lips.

“so fucking beautiful,” he was muttering into the skin of your stomach as he began kissing down your body. eren’s legs were hanging off the edge of the bed of the truck, and his feet were brushing the grass, but he couldn’t find it in him to care as he was met with your body.

he tugged the bottoms to your bikini down your legs. you were getting shy now, eren could tell but he wasn’t going to have any of that. “nuh’ uh, open up, angel,” eren was saying breathlessly.

he was met with the sight of your dripping center. you were visibly needy, your clit pulsing and puffy. “you need me here?” eren asked, running a finger through your slit. “y-yeah ren! need you so bad,” you whimpered, running eren’s hair through your fingers.

he couldn’t hold off anymore, he needed to taste you. his tongue jutted out to lick up the arousal drooling down your slit, and you were yelping at the feel of eren’s tongue.

he chuckled before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. you were a mess now, squirming and moaning as you gripped onto eren’s hair, which had him moaning into your pussy, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your system.

“ren’! m’ i’m gonna cum!” you were panting, eren’s hands holding onto your hips to stop you from running away. “c’mon then, baby, lemme taste you, i need it,” eren was mumbling into your clit.

one more suckle onto your bundle of nerves and you were falling apart on eren’s tongue. he didn’t waste a drop, moaning as he worked you through it, his hand rubbing soft circles into your hip as you came down, eren still leaving soft kitten licks at your clit.

he pulled away when he could tell you were sensitive and stood up from the bed of the truck. he was peeling off his swim trunks, his cock springing free and hitting against his toned abdomen.

he had never been this hard in his life.

your eyes were glued to his lower body as eren chuckled making his way back into the bed of the truck. his hand came to the back of your head, the two of you sitting up as he pulled you in for another kiss.

a string of spit connected your lips as eren pulled away. “lay down for me,” eren told you, his hand cradling your head. eren was leaning over you now, one hand holding the rim on the bed of the truck to keep him towering over your figure, the other grabbing around the base of his cock.

he started to tease the tip through your folds, relishing in the way you’d jump when he brushed against your clit.

“are you ready?” eren said softly, looking at you for any sign of hesitation. “m ready ren’,” you pecked him, “are you?” you teased.

“born ready,” he joked the two of you laughing. though, as eren’s tip nudged against your entrance, neither of you felt like joking anymore. his tip was going into your tight hole and you were wincing at the stretch of his girth.

“you alright?” eren asked, stopping. “m good,” you breathed, “your just big, ren’.”

eren knew he had a big cock, but hearing you say it made him twitch. “tell me if you need to stop,” he groaned softly, pushing into you more. eren caressed you through the stretch of his cock, cooing sweet nothings in your ear until he finally bottomed out.

“fuck,” he groaned, stilling inside the warmth of your cunt. your walls were squeezing down on him, “trying to milk my cock n’ i’ve only been in you for two minutes,” eren moaned.

you were a mess. you couldn’t cope with the size of eren’s cock, with the way his tip was barely brushing against your cervix. “need-need you to move,” you whined, your nails raking down eren’s back.

“you sure?” he asked, running his hand down the curve of your side. “m’ sure, please, ren’.”

that’s all eren needed to pull back from the warmth of your insides and slam back in. you both moaned loudly at that, pushing each other more and more down the path of complete ecstasy with each thrust. “so-so good for me,” eren’s voice broke.

your nails were raking down eren’s back harder, breaking the skin, and the pain was making him wince and moan. “fuck never want anyone but you,” eren groaned, grabbing at one of your tits.

“gonna fill you up n’ make you mine, you want that, baby?” eren was slamming into you now, your hips turned up as he folded your legs towards your shoulders, his hands holding the back of your knees it.

“need it, ren!” you were crying now, moaning loudly. “gonna give it to you,” eren panted, “but i need you to cum first. need you to cream all over this cock, make it yours.”

his words were enough to send you over the edge, your cum spraying on the base of eren’s cock and his abs.

feeling you pulse on his cock and watching your pretty eyes flutter close as your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure had eren filling you up. he came deep iside you, his load coating your walls white.

the both of you panted as you came down, and you pulled eren in by his neck for a deep kiss.

“i’m gonna need a plan b tomorrow,” you laughed, moaning softly at the warmth of eren’s cum inside you. “i’ll set a reminder,” eren chuckled, “i meant what i said, i do wanna watch you get full with my kids, but maybe just after college.”

you laughed softly after that, pulling eren in for another kiss.

“i love you, ren,”

“i’ll love you forever.”

fin

thank you for reading! this is the slowest slow burn fic i’ve ever done so i hope you guys enjoyed! please reblog to show your love n i hope you all have an amazing rest of your day or night or afternoon or whateva <333

3K notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

First Date

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve has the best first date thanks to you. Word Count: Over 1.2k Warnings: Fluffy fluff, light pining, first date, first kiss, mentions of the holidays, Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Sixth day of my Naughty & Nice Nonsense belongs to Steve Rogers. Requested by the incredible @buckyownsmylife. You deserve only good things! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner and moodboard by yours truly. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If there was one thing Steve still wasn’t used to after the serum, it was that women wanted to date him. It was strange even after he was taken out of the ice that people actively sought out his company when they used to overlook him. Bucky no longer had to convince his dates to bring along another girl for him. And Natasha, of course, did her best to set him up with a few different women.

He relented when he realized she wasn’t going to stop.

She gave up when the third girl she set him up with didn’t work out.

“What was wrong with this one?” she asked.

“Nothing was wrong with her,” Steve told her truthfully. “She was just wrong for me.”

He wondered if he was doomed to be alone.

Until you asked him out.

A breathtaking new agent with a loving smile who could easily put men twice your size on their backs. He was inexplicably drawn to you and wouldn't be breaking any bylaws by dating you. He planned to ask you out, but you beat him to the punch one day after sparring.

"Would you want to grab dinner with me Saturday?"

"A date?" he asked as you nodded.

"Yeah, a date," you said with a hopeful smile.

It felt good to have you smile at him that way.

"I'd love to," he smiled back.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at six o'clock. Dress warm, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled more, wondering what you had in mind.

He got his answer when you showed up at his apartment right on time.

“Oh, wow,” you whispered when he opened the door. He heard your heart rate speed up as you gazed at him. You told him to dress warm, but he still wanted to look his best. “Sorry. I’m staring.”

“It’s okay,” Steve chuckled. You told him to dress warm, but he still wanted to look his best. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m staring, too.”

You looked at your feet with a small smile before you lifted your head again. “I don’t mind.”

The breathy tone in your voice had his heart racing, too. “We should probably get going, otherwise I’ll just stare at you all night,” he teased.

The other dates he had been on had initial awkwardness in the beginning, but he felt none of that when he held out his hand for you. Even through the fabric, he felt electricity crackle between the two of you. Like a natural fit.

“Now, I should warn you,” you began as he led you out of the apartment building. “I kind of deviated away a bit from the normal first date dinner."

“I’m sure whatever you have set up is going to be amazing,” he smiled, giving your hand a small squeeze.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “I wanted to make it something to remember.”

“If I were a better gentleman, I would’ve been the one to plan this.”

“You think I’d make you plan your first date since you’ve been unfrozen?” you asked incredulously as you began to walk again. “Never.”

Steve opened his mouth and closed it just as quickly as you pulled him along the sidewalk. He didn’t have the heart to tell you this wasn’t his first date. Not when you looked so happy.

“Here it is!” you grinned.

A large horse and carriage stood by the curb with a coachman who tipped his hat. The red plush bench had a blanket for extra warmth and Steve noticed a small table with two drinks and a large box across from where they’d sit. He could smell the pizza from where he stood.

It was from his favorite restaurant.

“I thought we could have pizza and drinks while we looked at lights around the city. And there’s a bakery stop along the way so we can have dessert,” you explained as you approached the carriage. “I figured this would give us a chance to talk and see how beautiful our home looks when we’re not fighting to keep it safe.”

Steve didn’t get in right away as his eyes met yours, memorizing how beautiful you looked under the city lights. You held your breath as he stepped closer. He knew you put a lot of thought into this evening. That alone made him feel special.

"But if you hate it, I can-"

“This is incredible,” he said as you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really? Because your silence made me a little nervous,” you giggled.

Steve held up a hand to stop the coachman from helping you in, wanting to do it himself. “I'm sorry. I’m told I can be a bit stoic,” he joked, settling into the carriage beside you once you got comfortable.

“Didn’t I tell you? This is a stoic free carriage,” you teased.

"If anyone can make me smile, it's you."

He hoped that didn't sound cheesy.

"I like making you smile," you said as the carriage began to move.

The two of you traded stories as you ate and rode through the city. The lights brought warmth to the night sky, but he found himself staring at you more than the scenery. By the time you finished eating the pizza and stopped for warm, freshly baked cookies, he had his arm around you and the blanket over both of your legs.

"So, is this how you pictured your first date?"

"No, I didn't. This is even better," he smiled, brushing a bit of chocolate from the corner of your mouth away with his thumb.

"It is?" you asked, your voice soft as he brought his thumb to his mouth.

"It is," he said, unaware of how enticing he looked as he licked it clean. He bet you tasted just as sweet. "I wish Natasha had set you up with me first."

The longing in your eyes shifted to confusion. "First? What do you mean?" you asked before you nodded in understanding. "I'm not your first date, am I?"

Steve briefly closed his eyes. Shit. He didn't mean to say that. He was a terrible liar though, so he knew he couldn't come up with an excuse.

"No," he said.

"I'm so sorry," you said, picking a bit at the blanket and avoiding his gaze. "That was a really dumb assumption on my part."

"It wasn't dumb," he promised. "I don't exactly go around broadcasting my personal life."

That happened to him enough while he was under the ice and you wouldn't have known.

"It was dumb, but thank you."

He didn't want you to feel bad or embarrassed. "Look at me, please."

It took a moment, but you slowly turned your head toward him. He wanted to kiss the uncertain expression off your face. Leaning in, that's exactly what he did. The brush of his lips against yours was soft and full of promise.

Perfect.

"This is the best date I've ever had," he whispered.

"Our date isn't over yet," you smiled when he leaned in for another kiss.

With your lips against his, he imagined what it would have been like had he taken you out in the 40's. Maybe the two of you would have gone dancing. Any excuse to hold you close like this.

It would be the perfect second date.

Steve deserves something sweet. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #navy's naughty & nice nonsense #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

753 notes · View notes

onlyswan · 1 year

Text

summary: in which music waters a wilting flower on a chilly autumn night and jungkook is stuck by the glue onto you.

> idol!jungkook x reader / strangers to lovers / fluff, slight angst / wc: 4.4k

> warnings: mentions of oc’s toxic ex bf, slutshaming, and alcohol

> in which masterlist!

note: the in which couple’s first encounter reveal?! has arrived with a bam cameo at the end <3 recommend reading the ‘first times’ in the masterlist next if you haven’t yet :D as always reblogs and/or feedback are appreciated 🥰 and yes. i love beabadoobee.

—

“sir, will you help me-“ you panic, eyes pleading for help as you look between the door and the owner of the music shop. “i think it’s stuck.”

“oh! of course, of course. i apologize about that.” the middle-aged man, quick to your aid, ducks out of the counter. “i ought to get this thing changed soon. spent a fortune on it but it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do.”

you copy his chuckle, watching him push up the still half-closed door before shoving it open to the side.

“thank you!” you politely bow your head before stepping out.

“come back again next time! i’ll give you a discount!”

“really? a discount? then i have no choice but to come back!” you whine playfully, smiling at the promise of saving money in the future. you present him another bow. “have a good night! close the door now, it’s cold.”

the 90’s love song playing inside becomes muffled when the transparent glass completely shuts out the outside world once again. instead, the lead vocalist’s voice is replaced by a golden and dulcet humming by a stranger.

you scan for the source of the sound, and at once, you discover it when you whip your head to the right. scrolling through his phone, he’s sitting at the far corner of the old wooden bench— the same boy who was paying at the counter when you stumbled into the store. unbeknownst to yourself, your heart skips a beat. you were transported to a field of flowers when you brushed past him, and you met his big brown eyes briefly when he turned to leave.

burdened by the heavy and uneven weight you’re carrying on your shoulders, you decide to rest on the other side of the bench while you wait for a taxi to pass by. you spare a glance at the oversaturated band posters on the off-white wall behind it before sitting down as their audience.

the humming ceases when he feels your presence beside him.

you cautiously set down the padded guitar bag on the ground, securing it in between your thighs, anxious of getting so much as a scratch on the precious instrument. it’s a dear friend’s birthday tomorrow, and you only found the time and the money to purchase her gift today.

you check your wrist watch. 10:13pm. you fell asleep in the library while studying for a test, and because of that, you’re probably going to be home at around midnight. this place is pretty far and secluded, but apparently it’s known for its good and rare finds. you went here with your friend two months ago just to window shop and one of their bass guitars caught her eye. naturally, you couldn’t resist. her birthday gift has to be this. for some reason, it just feels easier to spend money on your loved ones than yourself.

will you even manage to send a birthday message before you pass out to sleep again? god, you hope so.

you feel your empty stomach grumbling angrily, and you’re not sure if it makes a sound or if it’s all just in your muddled head. yup, you missed dinner, too.

“i’m so hungry.” you cry out quietly, resting your forehead on the neck of the guitar.

fine, maybe you subconsciously said it a little louder than quiet. it was a shot in the dark, curious if the stranger beside you would have any sort of reaction. you hope for a glance at most. he has beautiful eyes, ones you almost feel envious of.

“me too.“ the sulky response slips out of his mouth with an exhausted sigh.

the sound of his voice makes you perk up in pleasant surprise, gazing at him with an amused, tight-lipped smile. on the other hand, he stiffens from the realization of what he just did. he stops manspreading, straightening himself up and awkwardly clearing his throat.

“sorry… it was a reflex.”

“it’s okay.” you reassure him with a quick laugh.

you tear your eyes away from him, watching the moths frantically flying under the street lamps. it’s silent for a moment, except for the shop owner’s on-going playlist and the occassional singing of the abundant crickets.

you face him again with a flair of innocence.

“do you want a granola bar?”

he lifts his head to look at you, the screen’s light reflecting on his tan skin, and that grants you the ability to see his breathtaking eyes. there might’ve been countless instances when they hated how small this bench is, most likely a tight fit for three people, but right now, you wouldn’t have it in any other way.

“it’s just that… i’m going to eat it and it feels rude to eat alone knowing you’re hungry, too.”

his teeth sinks in lower lip, contemplating for a few beats before nodding his head. “yeah, sure. i’d like one. thank you.”

you bring out the tupperware from your messenger bag, unfastening the sides open and separating the lid. as your own wordless way of telling him that they’re not poisoned, you grab one first, taking a small bite, before offering the container to him.

“here you go.”

you stifle a cackle when he pulls down the sleeves of his black hoodie as if he’s preparing to eat a whole course meal. he’s so fucking cute, gentle and dainty while picking up the granola bar along with the parchment paper underneath it. that leaves you with three left. you set down the tupperware between the two of you, loosely putting the lid on top.

“huh?” he exclaims with big round eyes, hand hovering over his mouth as he chews. “did you make this?”

the question makes you wince nervously. he didn’t like it? you could’ve sworn it's the best batch you’ve made so far. “uhm, if it tastes good, then i did. if not-”

“no, no. i like it.” he giggles, waving his hand to shoo your worries. “it’s not too sweet, and it’s soft? how did you make it chewy?!”

“oh-” you breathe out a sigh, clutching your chest in relief. “i just follow a recipe i found online! my neighbor gives me honey like every week so i found a use for it.”

“well, it’s really good. thank you.” he gives you a kind smile, scrunching his nose before resuming to eat the snack you spent your sunday night preparing.

and it’s quiet again. you look the other way to hide the proud smile playing on your lips, the fluttering of your unguarded heart raging and stubborn. maybe if you put food in your mouth, you’ll stop talking… not.

“i’m ___.”

he swallows before replying, distinctive dimples near his mouth making an appearance. “i’m jungkook.”

jungkook. it suits him so well. it’s perfect.

“do you play the guitar?“ jungkook asks curiously, motioning at the instrument you’re holding.

“oh, no- i just got this for my friend’s birthday. she’s in a band.” you share with a chuckle. “what about you? what do you need those giant speakers for?”

“ahh, they are big, aren’t they?” he scrunches his nose, glancing at the two boxes beside his feet. “i just figured buying new speakers would motivate me to work on music more.”

“are you a singer?” you gasp dramatically for effect. “or perhaps, a rapper?”

“i mean…” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “i guess i can rap, too.”

“that’s cool. i think you have a pretty talking voice, too.”

“aigoo, thank you so much.” he jokingly bends down his torso for a bow, clasping his hands together with the small remaining piece of granola bar in between before taking it in between his teeth.

the harmony of your laughter bleeds through the chilly air, providing your hearts a wave of much needed warmth.

“thank you too. you gave me an idea what to gift my friends next time.”

“speakers?” his face lights up like of a kid unboxing presents beside the christmas tree. you’ve never met anyone who looks this passionate at the mention of the said device— this whole interaction is giving you the urge to dive deeper into the world of music beyond the sphere of being a casual listener. “they’ll love it. it’s the best gift for me personally.”

you tilt your head to the side. “you know a lot about them?”

“hmmm, i don’t know.” he purses his lips as he hums, eyes falling on the ground as he ponders. “they’re important for shows and work so i naturally learn a lot about them… i often look for reviews and new releases. it’s like a hobby?”

“really? then i’m sold. i need you.”

the carelessly casual words escape your mouth before you can think twice.

“need me?” he repeats your word in surprise, pointing at himself.

you disguise yourself with a nod and a coy smile, acting nonchalant as if you’re not screaming inside. you’ve always been this shameless when you have nothing to lose, but he’s just so pretty that you want to learn shit like what his favorite food is and whether your zodiac signs are compatible even though you don’t believe in them.

“help me choose the best speakers to buy, one year from now. i don’t know anything about music at all, so i always have a hard time with gifts.” you’re pouting sadly by the end, your words bearing the weight of truth, albeit you’re also using them as an excuse to glue yourself onto him.

in your mind, five seconds feels like it’s stretching into eternity. he breaks out into a shy grin, playing with the parchment paper left in his hand before folding it over and over again until it becomes the same size as the nail of his thumb. he stuffs it into the pocket of his washed denim jeans.

“okay then, i should help you. give me your number?”

your hands graze each other as you lay hold of his phone, clueless instruments of your and jungkook’s youthful impulses and anticipation.

“do you have other ___’s in your contacts? should i name myself ‘___ from mj’s music box’?” you inquire half-jokingly, raising your eyebrows at him.

”ey, come on. there’s no need for that.” he chortles, staring back at you with an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but you quickly revert your attention to the screen and you don’t notice.

“i don’t think you’ll remember me just by my name a year from now, though.” you mutter to yourself as you tap on the screen. after that, you tap the call button to save his number on your phone as well.

you’re already handing him back his phone when he finally constructs a reply-

“is that so? then make it difficult for me to forget.”

and the air gets robbed from your lungs. it makes you wonder how many hearts he has broke, being this handsome and charming, and if you’ll even drag this out and stick around long enough to find out.

“be careful of your words. i’m pretty competitive.” you playfully taunt him, softly tugging his wrist to put the device on his delicately wide palm. “don’t blame me when i end up being the only person you think about.”

he matches your energy, a cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he shakes his head. “psh, why would i? that doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”

why are you thinking of ways to keep this flowing instead of retreating and coming up with an obvious excuse to leave? as always, you find yourself most liberated when you meet new people, even when you know they’ll only be a fleeting presence in your life, here to leave a stain or a scar. you wish a taxi never arrives. you wish to be left stranded here for the rest night so you can hear him talk about the first song he ever wrote and you can tell him about the stupid song your first boyfriend wrote for you.

but alas, the universe intervenes with your fantasies and the approaching blazing headlights almost blind your blurry eyes.

you wave your hand to hail the taxi, and you smile at jungkook one more time. “time for me to go.”

“oh, okay.”

the vehicle parks infront of the bench. he watches you hurriedly toss the granola bar you never finished into the transparent tupperware, a feeling akin to disappointment gnawing at his guts.

“wait- weren’t you waiting for a taxi, too?” you wonder out loud as you slide the resealed container inside your bag.

“i’m fine, i have a ride. you go take it- oh, oh- let me help you with that-” he stands up abruptly when he sees you struggling to stand up, lifting the guitar to relieve you of the barrier.

“thanks, jungkook.” you laugh airily, getting on your feet, closer to him than you’ve ever been. he’s taller than you originally thought, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that his flexing forearms are veiny… (you have a suspicion that he’s doing it on purpose. the guitar bag isn’t that heavy.) those, paired with that pretty baby face— he’s so manly and so adorable in a way you’ve never seen in anyone else. he’s a beautiful, refreshing sight to behold.

you’re holding your breath, as if that would freeze the hands of the clocks, halt the earth from spinning on its axis because it’s the only way for you to stay without blaming yourself. the love songs haven’t stopped playing, and a slow acoustic sets out to delude you that this is a scene from an indie romance film, a beginning of something beautiful, but it rarely is. it never is.

his bunny teeth sink into his bottom lip, tainting it a darker shade of pink, before his tongue sneaks out to lick it. “you can go inside.” he generously says, slightly raising his arms to gesture at your cherished gift he’s grasping securely.

you only nod in understanding, walking past him and proceeding to open the door to slide into the backseat. you assist him in putting the guitar inside the taxi and over your lap, and you force your brain to shut down before you can speak again and your friskiness gets you into trouble.

“get home safe, ___!” he brightly chirps, waving at you goodbye.

your cheeks are starting to hurt from all the giddy smiles, but you just can’t stop, not when he has this contagious and bubbly expression painted on his face that’s simply impossible not to adore.

“you too, jungkook.”

his meticulous eyes briefly wander around your figure, checking if you’re too close, and then he carefully slams the door shut. you sink into your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat before telling the taxi driver your address.

you don’t want to think too much, so you close your eyes, hoping to get more sleep to recharge your mental and social batteries. unsurprisingly, you grow restless not even five minutes after. the soothing piano ballads faintly playing in the radio aren’t much help either. an infuriated scream hangs on the tip of your tongue, and you bite it down into dust. instead, you dish out your phone from the pocket of your bag to save jungkook’s number… but then the venomous voice of your ex calling you degrading names ranging from ‘an ungrateful, attention-seeking bitch’ to ‘a slut’ after you broke up with him echo in your tumultuous head, and you begin feeling pathetically small and nauseous. for a split moment you find yourself contemplating whether you should just delete it or not. out of guilt or out of fear, maybe both, you’re not quite certain.

what ultimately pull you out from the dark abyss of relentless overthinking are the first notifications you ever receive with his name attached to them.

Jungkook:

hey this is JK

i just thought of this now ?!..

trade my music equipment expertise for your magical granola bar recipe? :)

you bury your face in your hands, silently crying out— “ah shit, this is so annoying. why does he have to be so cute? i need a drink.”

—

“i’m hungry.” the grumpy complaint spills from your tongue now that bam, your not-so little happy pill, is out from sight.

“me too.” jungkook juts out his bottom lip, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you. “do you still have strawberry wafers in your bag?”

his question prompts you to hug it defensively. no, just no. “i’m saving them for emergencies-”

he puts his index finger infront of his lips, shushing you with a shake of his head. he tuts. “i know. this is an emergency, baby.”

cornered at the armrest of the couch, you have nowhere else to go. you unwillingly surrender to satisfying his craving, grimacing as he starts rummaging through your bag. this is exactly why you told him you should eat brunch before bringing in bam for his grooming, but jungkook insisted that it won’t take too long. sure, maybe the grooming session itself won’t… but the waiting in line part? that definitely took too long. making an appointment is technically futile when you’re visiting on a weekend.

“mhmmm, i love it.” he moans in satisfaction, devouring the slice of wafer in only two consecutive bites.

you glare at him when he offers you the plastic bag with a teasing smile, seizing it from his grip to snack on the treat while you continue to wait at the lounge area. you’re the only fur parents left here, the last clients before the staff goes on their hour-long lunch break. the sign on the door has been flipped to say ‘CLOSED’.

jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling you closer by the shoulder and cupping your face with his warm hand to plant an apologetic kiss on your cheek. “i’ll cook you a hearty meal for dinner when we get home.”

you melt in his hold, leaning further against the backrest to release the tension from your body bred by hunger and impatience.

“really?” you feign nonchalance as you make the futile attempt of hiding the pleased smile curving on your lips. “i want chicken. the one you made before, with the creamy and spicy sauce.”

your mouth is practically watering as you describe the dish, the smell and taste of his cooking still vivid in your senses’ memory. it’s making the food you’re eating painfully insipid, but it’s better than nothing.

“and wine, too. no- actually, i’m craving tequi- argh, i’ll settle with wine.”

“okay! chicken and wine for dinner!” he agrees straight away, pressing a kiss on your temple before pinching one more stick of wafer between his fingers. he breaks it into two halves and gives one of them to you.

you accept it wordlessly, but a peculiar feeling is slithering its way into the tight confines of your heart, and you can’t withdraw your eyes from closely observing your gorgeous boyfriend. he brushes off the crumbs that fell on his white t-shirt and his lap after he finishes his share, still chewing as he tenderly takes the empty plastic from your hand. just as you predicted, he finds entertainment in folding it as small as possible.

“this is giving me déjà vu.”

“déjà vu?” he tilts up his head, doe eyes widening as you’ve captured his attention.

“uh-huh, you know when we first met…” you trail off, sending him a threatening look when the confused expression on his face stays unchanging. “you remember, right?”

his mouth hangs open before his eyebrows knit in irritation, posture straightening as he stammers with his defense. “what kind of question is that? you’re hurting my feelings- you were wearing a varsity jacket with the number 6 on it!”

“jungkook, i wore that like everyday for four months.”

his expression softens, pierced lip forming a pout. “do you even know that i-i… ah, i’ll show you instead!”

“show me what?”

he digs his hand in the pocket of his dark blue denim jeans, dishing out his wallet. you peer at him with curiosity as he rapidly unzips it to comb through his cards, pausing at his driver’s license and removing the white paper hiding behind it.

“no way-” you splutter, nearly choking on your own spit as your hunch grows enormously.

he unfolds it to reveal the faded blue ink that writes the most crucial and specific details of the first time the universe conspired to make your paths cross.

“look, i still have the receipt from the night! november 11…”

you notice him squinting at the faint characters, and you momentarily disconnect from the surge of mixed emotions to pull out his prescription glasses from the collar of his t-shirt. you affectionately wear it on him, weaving your fingers through his hair to brush away the loose strands from his bun blocking the lens.

“thanks baby- it’s november 11, 2017. at 9:55pm!”

jungkook originally kept this receipt for a month incase he had to return the speakers due to unforeseen defect or damage. but then you never stopped talking, and you became the only person he thinks of 24/7 just as your coquettish warning told. the thought of throwing it out never occured to him. instead, he preserved it in his wallet because he carries it with him everywhere he goes. he would even argue that it’s his most important property in it. he can have his credit cards cancelled then replaced, but this piece of paper is once in a lifetime.

mj’s music box closed down due to the pandemic. he hasn’t told you this, didn’t want to break your heart when he found out. he knows that you treasure the place as much as him, if not more.

meanwhile, the new-found knowledge has rendered you speechless, unblinking, buffering.

“what’s with that face? you’ve never seen this in my wallet?” he quizzes you in bewilderment, smiling humorously.

“of course i haven’t! you want me going through your wallet without permission?!” you whine, hugging his arm and hiding yourself behind his back to calm the intense pumping of your heart.

oh, your sweet, sweet jungkook— he never runs out of way to make you fall in love with him all over again.

“my love, you know i don’t care about things like that.” he chuckles, astonished by how you still highly value and respect his privacy and boundaries despite how long you’ve been together. it just occurs to him then, that at the very core of your relationship, this is probably why he never once regretted moving in with you. he says it all the time, but he just feels so goddamn lucky to have you in his life. he loves you. he loves everything about you. even the things he doesn’t like, he loves.

“aren’t you going to eat that?”

you’re overflowing with his love, you can’t stomach anything else.

“i won’t.”

“i’ll indulge myself then.” he cages your hand in his, raising it for the wafer to reach his lips. he bites it all the way down like a bunny eating a carrot, ending the journey with a chaste kiss on your knuckle. “you’re too quiet… are you crying?”

you shake your head profusely, tightening your embrace. “i love you so much, i can’t think. i just want to hug you.”

he smells a different type of sweet nowadays— more manly, more mature, binding you in an enrapturing spell, and with a suble hint of a baby scent that somehow makes him much more intoxicating. it’s overwhelming to think about— the amount of perfume bottles you’ve bought and consumed after asking one another if they smell too basic or too strong; the amount of times jungkook changed his wallet and took the receipt along with him because it only felt right.

“mkay, i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers, nosing at your hair.

and so, he stays stuck by the glue onto you as he gulps down a bottle of water, as he returns his wallet in his pocket with grunts of difficulty, as he deletes a promotional text on his phone sent by his service provider. he suspects that you’ve already fallen asleep. after all, you did spend the entire night dancing to the songs he sang along to. you wore the crocheted blanket you made as a cape and a dress, flowing with your graceful movements controlled by the lyrics and the beat and the melody and his compliments and his giggles.

he’s proven wrong when you slowly turn your head, cheek squished against his bicep. with heavy eyelids, you search for his hands, tangling them with your lonely ones.

“want to hear something silly about that day?”

“i’m all ears.” he beams eagerly, watching you twiddle with his long and slender fingers.

“do you know why i offered you my food?”

“because you couldn’t let a pretty boy like me succumb to starvation?”

“weeeell, there’s that…” you admit to his confident guess. “but aside from that, i wanted to see your nails closely.”

“my nails?”

you make a noise of confirmation as you trace his tattoos, a laugh seeping from the cracks of your relaxed demeanor. “to see if they were clean and trimmed or not.”

“so…” jungkook, the most hygienic man you’ve ever met, is digesting what you just confessed to him. “if they were dirty, you never would’ve told me your name?”

“hmm, yeah. because i always badgered my ex about it and you know how that relationship ended, so i thought enforcing those type of rules would help because i don’t want to deal with that shit again.” you cringe at younger you’s naivety and desperation, smiling shyly. “and it kind of… worked out so well? it sounds so funny to me now. i actually love myself for that.”

“fuck, baby,” he sighs.

he can’t imagine how a human being could ever dare to treat you with anything but gentleness. literally, can’t. it makes him sick to his stomach, makes the blood in his veins boil. he feels disturbed by the memories that still haunt you, and he feels angry because he is powerless and he can’t erase them no matter how hard he tries.

he caresses your face, planting doting kisses on your lips. the ghost of his affection lingers, like an invisible lipstick mark. “i wish i met you sooner.”

“what are you saying? i think we met at the perfect time!” you console his frustration, grinning when the epiphany lands on top of your bittersweet flashbacks. “out of the 365 days of the year, we met at 11/11. you’re my wish come tru- bam!”

the shocked, high-pitched squeal freefalls from your mouth when bam excitedly jumps on your laps out of nowhere, the weight of his upper half crushing your thighs underneath him. the dog smiles at you, panting.

“bam, i missed you but i was just about to tell your dad something romantic!”

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook au #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut

2K notes · View notes

armysantiny · 1 year

Text

-[renjun; soft bf headcanon

Nct’s resident artist boyfriend everyone!!

Anywho—

You and Renjun initially met at an art workshop

He was looking for help with a brush technique and there you were, having just learnt it from the art professor

Bless you for offering to help him because he’s certain he wouldn’t have asked himself

Somewhere during the workshop, social media handles are shared

You two are the creative friends to lovers fr

Sending aesthetic pictures to each other and saying what do we think?

Renjun’s the one who takes the initial leap to give you his number

And the rest was history <3

Renjun is 100% the teases you out of love boyfriend

It’s his love language <33

Very much a fan of buying little trinkets he finds that remind him of you

Presents them to you when he gets home by quite literally dumping the paper gift bag in your lap

Immensely satisfied by the reaction on your face

Takes you to craft stores and small privately-owned cafés on dates

Saves your favourite new cafés and restaurant on his phone so can grab desserts and take-out from there on his way home for you

This man makes such a good impression on your friends

I’m convinced they smother him in affection whenever he joins you on an outing

Low-key pleading for help with his eyes while he’s having his poor soul squeezed out of him

And you’re over there watching him suffer with an unassuming grin on your face

What did he really expect from you, huh?

You little traitor – his words, trust me

But it’s fine, he loves you anyway

Even if he’s wheezing to get his breath back

Isn’t the biggest fan of PDA but peppers you with kisses all over the second you two are alone

Expect forehead kisses and the occasional peck on the lips when you two are outside

Hand holding with Renjun >>>

Makes up for his lack of PDA by having your hand in his almost always

He stuffs your hand in his pocket when it’s cold and puts a hand warmer in the hand he is (unfortunately) not holding

Pretends not to absolutely combust when you put your head on his shoulder as you’re walking home from a date

He feels absolutely normal about this. Yes :D

Takes candid pictures of you and uses them in a collage that he surprises you with on your birthday

I swear down he has the softest of smiles as you process the gift in your hands

Has the sweetest of heart eyes fr

“This…you made this for me?”

“Of course I did, my love~”

You better keep this man

Renjun best boyfriend

I’m rooting for you two <3

Networks: @kwritersworld, @kdiarynet, @ultkpopnetwork, @whipped-kpop-creators, @k-library, @knet-bakery, @kpclub, @nct-writers, @neoturtles

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

Taglist: @teeztheflag, @jeonqquk, @mikailo666, @babyboobean, @taemin-jaemin, @iiindigocheesecake, @xavi-in-kpopland, @flowerjun, @marxenash | Taglist form

512 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Drawn Together 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, obsession, intimidation, and other dark elements.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: You get a tattoo on an impulse to break your routine, but you walk away with something else as permanent as the ink.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You wring your hands as you watch Steve drift along the other wall. The white tee shirt makes the ink on his arms seem starker as he has a thumb hook in his jean pocket, the other reaching to take an oval frame from the console table.

You squeeze your fingers tight, until they might crack, then release the tension along with your breath. He sets the picture back down and stands straight, looking around emphatically.

“Nice place,” he remarks as he faces you, “lots of space for you… and your… boyfriend?”

You watch him dully, “it’s nice.”

He is unfazed by your blunt deflection, “these old century townhouses, there’s not many of those left. I remember my mother lived in one. A few streets away.” He nears you and you brace yourself. He angles his arm towards you and shows you a banner that reads, ‘Brooklyn strong’.

“Oh, that’s very nice,” you lean back on your heel and pivot. “We should probably get started, we’re already behind.”

“You’re from Brooklyn too?” He asks as he goes to the bench.

“Grandparents lived here. They left me the place.” You take out a folder, the typical package you have ready for beginners, “we’ll start by tracing your hands.”

“Alright,” he stands close as you open the folder on the back of the piano. You turn and pluck a pencil from the jar on the shelf.

“It’s just… an exercise,” you explain as you hand him the pencil, “trace left then right and label them left and right.”

“Oh, wow,” he accepts the pencil, “this feels like grade school.”

“Hmm, well, yeah, my students are typically younger… my older students have a little more experience.”

“No, no, I’m excited,” he says as he spreads out his hand on the paper. His hand is huge.

You spin again and slip out another looseleaf and hand it over, “for your other hand.”

You set it down on the polished wood and he thanks you quietly as he focuses on following the outline of his long fingers. Looking at his hand makes you feel tiny. Your eyes scan the small stars on each knuckle, red, white, and blue. The ring finger is untouched.

He finishes the exercise and you go over the five-finger system with him. It feels so ridiculous. He’s not a child but you find it simple and easy. When you have that all done, you fold up the file and put it aside.

“Sit,” you gesture to the upholstery.

He obeys, looking down at the keys as he rests his hands on his jeans. You think about grabbing a stool as you consider the limited expanse left beside him. You can fit. You lower yourself and hit a key.

“We’ll go over the musical alphabet now, low to high.”

You sense his gaze, intent on you as you go through the usual introduction. You pause and have him repeat what you just did on the keys. He does it slowly as his arm presses to yours.

“Now from middle C,” you instruct and demonstrate. “You want your hands at middle C.” You raise your hands, “left: F-G-A-B-C, right: C-D-E-F-G. Thumbs together.”

“Right,” he does exactly as you say. He has good form as he keeps his hands on the keys but not heavy.

“Good,” you get up and take the metal TV tray from the small rack tucked beside the shelf. You unfold one and bring it around to his elbow. Your grandfather always had one open beside his leather chair. The paint shows the wear. “Now, we will go through a warm up and have you write it out.”

“Okay,” he watches you. His blue eyes are so brilliant and intense. You realise, he’s been looking at you for longer than you knew. You take the folder and open it up again. “I appreciate the patience.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry,” you spread out a blank sheet, “you’re much less fidgety than a six-year old.”

“I hope so,” he chuckles.

“So, our goal by the end is for you to play one song. Does that sound good?”

“A whole song?” He echoes, “uh, yeah, I can do that.”

“Nothing too complicated,” you turn the folder to him and put the pencil across it, “so as we learn, we’ll write down what we play and this will help you learn to read music.”

“Right, let’s do the spider song as our warm-up,” you stand beside the piano. You can’t bear to sit next to him, not as you feel the sweat still speckling on your neck and beading under your hairline.

“Spider song?” He grins, “that’d be a good tat, huh? A spider?”

“Um, I guess, I…”

“You’re not spider girl, though,” he says, “flowers.” He glances over at the window sill then back to you. His eyes descend slowly and you struggle not to wilt. You feel like he’s looking right through you, “poppies.”

You nod and shift your feet closer together, “I appreciate the simplicity.”

“Ha, I can never keep a plant alive,” he snorts, “you must just have that gentle touch that helps them thrive.”

“Well, um, I think we should get started,” you cross your arms and stride behind him, going to the other side of the piano. “Middle C.”

🎹

The lesson is as successful as any other. You stand at the corner of the piano as Steve keys out Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. He hits the last note with the same pride shown by the bouncing seven-year olds that perch in that very spot daily.

“Great. You got your first song,” you say, “there’s a print-out in the folder,” you point beyond him, “it shows the keys, I know it’s not the same but it’s a good way to practice position. You can use that if you want to practice between lessons.”

“Between lessons,” he pulls his hands into his lap, “does that mean I passed? I get to come back?”

“That’s up to you. If you really want to learn, you’re going to need to keep at it. Older students tend to take a little longer. Um, sorry, not to… I hope that isn’t insulting.”

“Nope,” he claps his legs and turns, standing from the bench. He pushes his head side to side and cracks his neck, “I’ve always needed a little extra love, you know? I can be a bit bullheaded. Sam says I got a thick skull.”

You know he’s trying to be friendly. There’s just something off. You still can’t believe he’s really there or that you let him in. To that point, you’ve been going through a routine, letting the steps guide you through. Now, you’re at a loss. There is no parent coming to usher him out of your home.

“I got the fee,” he reaches in his back pocket and pulls out his wallet, “I guess I should’ve paid at the start.”

“No, uh, that’s fine,” you eke out.

“So uh, same time next week? Do you think maybe I could come back sooner?”

“Um, I’d have to look at my schedule. I’ll call–”

He holds out several bills and you accept them quietly. You always find the payment is awkward, even if it’s the whole point. You are offering a service, you deserve everything you earn.

“Great, I’ll keep my phone close.”

The silence rises to strangle you. You peer around, grasping the bills tightly. What do you say to make him go? It’ll be easier to tell him you’re at capacity over the phone but you can’t then. Not to his face.

“You know, I still didn’t get a good look at your piece. Do you mind?”

“What?” You look at him.

“Your ink,” he nods at your feet, “do you mind if–”

He doesn't finish his question as he bends to look at your legs. You sway uncertainly and turn, pointing your toe to present your ankle to him. You don’t know what else to do. He examines it and you wince as he reaches to touch the skin beside it.

“Sam’s a talented guy,” he drags his fingertips away and stands, “helps when you have a great canvas. It suits you, sweetheart.”

Your brows rise as you gape at him. You quickly snap your mouth shut and fold your hands together. Your heart is pulsing behind your ears. You need him gone. This is your space and he’s intruded for long enough. The lesson is over.

“Don’t forget your folder,” you flit away from him and fold up the file, “here.” You face him again and push it against his chest, “I have to clean up for my next lesson.”

“Clean– this place is immaculate,” he looks around as he clutches the folder by the edges, “I don’t think–”

“Please, I have a lesson to prepare. Don’t forget to practice.”

You take a step back as he gazes at you. Unmoving. You might be telling him to go but it’s entirely his decision. Your nerves ping at the thought that you could not make him go. That if he stays long enough, he’ll realise your lie. Your excuse. He is your only lesson that day.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he relents at last as he tucks the folder under his arm, “see ya next week.”

You’re paralysed as you watch him cross the room. He disappears down the stairs and you listen to the creak of each step. At the bottom, you hear him shuffling around and when you find the courage to go look down, the door closes behind him.

You hurry down the stairs and quickly twist the lock. You let out your breath and lean into the wind as you let out a shuddery breath. His scent lingers. You’ll have to open some windows and light some incense. Hopefully, you can forget all about him.

#drawn together #tattoo au #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #dark drabble #dark!drabble #series #au #mcu #marvel #captain america #falcon #sam wilson

451 notes · View notes

kckt88 · 5 months

Text

Take My Breath Away VII

Summary:

Vaeryna travels to the Vale and has a surprise reunion.

Warning(s): Angst, Lactation Kink, Oral Sex - M Receiving.

Word Count: 3000

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

GREENS WIN - ENEMIES TO LOVERS.

Tag List - @a-beaverhausen, @ammo23, @immyowndefender, @watercolorskyy, @toodlesxcuddles

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Some dialogue/scenes from Dynasty have been reused.

“I still can’t believe he’s ours” exclaimed Vaeryna as she gazed at her son.

“D-Do you think I’ll be a good father?” asked Aemond quietly.

“Of course, I do. You read to him, soothe him when he cries. You wake in the night to help me when he needs feeding, and you even help change his soiled cloths. Most things a lot of fathers don’t even try” said Vaeryna.

“I just want him to know that I love him and that no matter what I will always be there for him”.

“Rhaegar will always know of your love” said Vaeryna.

“As will you, Issa jorrāelagon” whispered Aemond (My love).

“I want to thank you” said Vaeryna.

“For what?”

“I heard what Munkun said-about the procedure” whispered Vaeryna.

“I would never let anyone do that too you” exclaimed Aemond as he took hold of Vaeryna’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“-And that’s how you’re a better than your father” replied Vaeryna.

“A raven arrived for you from Lady Jeyne Arryn” said Aemond as he handed Vaeryna a folded piece of parchment.

“Been reading my mail, have you?” asked Vaeryna as she snatched the letter away from Aemond.

“I didn’t. Larys Strong did, he checks all incoming ravens, this you know” said Aemond.

Of course, that was true, it wasn’t the first time she’d received a letter from Jeyne that had already been opened.

“She wishes to meet Rhaegar” said Vaeryna.

“Is that wise?” asked Aemond.

“I spent many moons with Lady Jeyne, I consider her my dearest friend, why shouldn’t she meet our son” replied Vaeryna.

“She’s not exactly been receptive to the King”.

“-And you think by extension, she will take an instant dislike to our son and what-try to harm him in some way? Get a grip Aemond” snapped Vaeryna.

“I will not be scolded like a child for simply being cautious” replied Aemond as he gently ran his fingers through Rhaegar’s silver hair.

“Well, it’s irrelevant, because I intend to accept her invitation”.

“-And if I forbid it” retorted Aemond.

“I’ll still go anyway. Rhaegar is heir to the Iron Throne, surely it makes sense that he’s introduced to the ruling Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms”.

“Well Lady Arryn can come to Kings Landing, just like everyone else and bend the knee to the King and his chosen heir” replied Aemond.

“Am I a prisoner here?”

“What! No. Why would you say that?” gasped Aemond.

“Because you seemed determined not to let me leave the Red Keep” said Vaeryna.

“Does this invite extend to myself?”

“Gods no. Lady Jeyne would sooner eat glass than invite you to the Vale” said Vaeryna.

“Exactly my point”.

“Look. I don’t care what you say. I’m going and I will be taking our son” said Vaeryna as she lifted Rhaegar into her arms and sat on the bed.

He instantly started fussing so Vaeryna untied her shift and held the hungry babe to her breast.

“I am your husband; you should listen to me” argued Aemond.

“Yes, and I am your wife, not a possession for you to command or own. Lady Jeyne was a great comfort to me during my time in the Vale and it would be nice to see her. I wouldn’t be gone long, a week at the most” said Vaeryna.

Aemond closed his eye and sighed, he could feel his resolve crumbling, how could he even think to argue with his sweet wife, when she had her breasts out.

“You would take the Cannibal with you?”

“Of course,” replied Vaeryna.

“Only for a week and no longer” urged Aemond.

“I swear it” said Vaeryna smiling.

“Fine, but if I get so much as a whisper that there’s trouble, I will mount Vhagar and burn the fucking entirety of the Vale to the ground” replied Aemond sternly.

“I completely understand. Don’t worry husband. We’ll be back before you even realise, we’ve gone” said Vaeryna brightly.

“Hm” muttered Aemond, internally cursing himself for his weakness towards his wife’s bare milk swollen breasts.

“Seen as I am leaving you for a week, how about I treat you” said Vaeryna as she finished feeding Rhaegar and placed him in his cradle.

“T-Treat me?” gasped Aemond, his breeches becoming uncomfortably tight.

“Well, I see the way you gaze at me as I feed our son, so I’m assuming you would like a taste of my mother’s milk” replied Vaeryna as she laid on the bed.

Suddenly Aemond became very flustered, his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

“I am not yet ready to resume all our martial activities, but I’m sure if you taste me, then I shall taste you in return, Issa prūmia” exclaimed Vaeryna (My heart).

Aemond then descended on Vaeryna’s soft lips, kissing her, his hands gently caressing his wife’s milk swollen breasts.

Aemond released Vaeryna’s mouth and bent down to lick her nipples, he couldn’t contain his excitement as he went back and forth between his wife’s wonderful, enlarged breasts that nourished their son.

“Oh” muttered Vaeryna as she flung her arms over her face, as pearly white liquid began to leak from her breasts, running down her body in rivulets.

Aemond ran his tongue over the milk that had dripped from his wife’s rosy nipples and delighted in the sweetened taste.

“Hm” moaned Aemond as he continued to lick and suck his wife’s breasts.

“A-Aemond” gasped Vaeryna.

“What is it my love”.

“L-Let me taste you. Please” begged Vaeryna.

Aemond propped himself against a hastily assembled pile of pillows and quickly pulled down his breeches and small clothes.

His hard cock slapping against his abdomen.

Aemond stared down at his naughty little wife, his mouth hanging open as Vaeryna lightly ran her fingers over him.

Next thing he knew, Vaeryna’s warm, wet mouth was wrapped around the head of his cock.

Vaeryna’s tongue ran around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Vaeryna!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through his wife’s silver hair.

Vaeryna ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When Vaeryna engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut.

Vaeryna was driving him crazy.

Aemond forced himself to open his eyes, he had to watch his precious wife sucking his cock.

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push him too far to control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Vaeryna’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her pink lips stretched around him. Oh, it was heaven.

“I’m not going to last” Aemond admitted, though it pained him to do so.

Vaeryna smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth.

“It feels so good” groaned Aemond.

Vaeryna responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of her husband’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand cupped his stones.

“Shit Vaeryna! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

His sweet wife took every last drop, swallowing his seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Vaeryna’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking husband?” asked Vaeryna.

“Y-Yes” gasped Aemond.

Although it was easy enough to potentially convince Aemond to allow her to take Rhaegar to the Vale, it had been harder to convince the King and some of his council.

Whilst most of them were against it, there were some that supported it. As they saw it as a way to improve the relationship between the Vale and Kings Landing.

As Lady Jeyne had been an avid supporter of Rhaenyra during the war, they didn’t want to cause a stir by refusing her invitation.

So, after a couple of days deliberation, Vaeryna was permitted to take Rhaegar to the Vale for a week.

Vaeryna could barely contain her excitement as she headed towards Cannibal with Rhaegar strapped to her chest.

Her son was currently fast asleep, nestled inside the soft fluffy fabric of the wrap.

Aemond who had followed her, had been in quite a sour mood all morning. She guessed it was because he was going to miss her and Rhaegar but there was also part of her that knew he had hoped that either the King or the council would refuse her request and when they didn’t, he descended into an epic sulk.

“Do cheer up husband, I’ll back within the week” said Vaeryna cheerfully.

“That is still a week without my wife or my son” snarked Aemond, his arms folded behind his back.

“We’ll be back before you know it” muttered Vaeryna as she placed a gentle kiss on Aemond’s scared cheek.

“Hm” muttered Aemond.

Vaeryna seemed to be waiting for Aemond to kiss her in return, but he turned his head away from her.

“You know what-fine, if your going to act like a spoilt child, then so be it” snapped Vaeryna her eyes welling up with tears.

“Vaeryna” exclaimed Aemond.

“No. I hope you snap out of whatever mood you’re in, otherwise I won’t bother coming back” retorted Vaeryna as she turned on her heel and walked closer to the Cannibal.

“Vaeryna” called Aemond as he tried to follow, but the Cannibal reared up in defence of his rider.

“Easy my sweet” cooed Vaeryna as she ran a gloved hand over his maw.

“Let’s not leave things like this” urged Aemond.

“You’ve only got yourself to blame” replied Vaeryna as Cannibal lowered his shoulder and allowed Vaeryna to climb onto his back, she made sure she was properly seated, and that Rhaegar was secured, before she took hold of her dragon’s spikes.

“Please, Vaeryna-“

“-Sōvegon” shouted Vaeryna and Cannibal opened his large wings and hurtled into the sky, and for a dragon of his size, he was remarkably fast.

Aemond could only watch, as his wife and son disappeared into the clouds on the back of her dragon.

It had been a few weeks since Vaeryna had flown with Cannibal and to be amongst the clouds again felt glorious.

Suddenly Vaeryna heard a huge roar behind her, and immediately her heart sank, thinking that Aemond had followed her on Vhagar.

But it wasn’t Vhagar that emerged from the clouds, it was Dreamfyre. The pale blue and silver dragon glided effortlessly next to Cannibal who chirped happily.

Vaeryna heard Rhaegar let out a small, contended coo and she smiled. Guess they had some extra company.

“She seems awfully comfortable flying along side you my sweet” said Vaeryna loudly.

No other dragon aside from Caraxes or Vhagar had the courage to fly alongside Cannibal, his reputation alone was enough to frighten the younger and much smaller dragons.

Cannibal gave a pleased trill as he flew closer to Dreamfyre, their wings almost touching.

“Is that who’s been keeping you company these last few weeks?” teased Vaeryna as Cannibal huffed loudly.

Vaeryna giggled softly and gave her dragon a firm pat on his back. He purred back in response.

Most feared dragon in all of the seven kingdoms, purring like a content cat, it made Vaeryna smile.

Due to Cannibal’s sheer size, it took now more than a few hours for Vaeryna to reach the Vale, which was a good thing as Rhaegar had started to get fussy, he was hungry.

So, after circling the castle a couple of times, no doubt Lady Jeyne would recognise Cannibal, so he wouldn’t be faced with any issues upon landing.

Cannibal and Dreamfyre landed with a ground shaking thud, and Vaeryna paused for a moment to make sure there were no problems.

Four guards emerged and bowed respectfully, no doubt here as escorts.

Vaeryna gently manoeuvred herself off Cannibal and made sure to inform him that he was too behave whilst he was here.

“No stealing the local donkeys” muttered Vaeryna as Cannibal bristled with annoyance, but appeared to accept what he was told albeit begrudgingly.

“Welcome back to the Vale, Princess”.

“Thank you, Ser it’s good to be back” replied Vaeryna.

“Right this way Princess, Lady Jeyne is anxious to see you”.

Vaeryna nodded and followed the guards inside the castle, not much had changed since she was last here, and it gave Vaeryna a sense of familiarity, almost like coming home in a way.

“Princess, it is good to see you” exclaimed Jeyne as she enveloped Vaeryna into a hug.

“Lady Jeyne” gasped Vaeryna.

Suddenly Rhaegar let out a high-pitched squeal.

“For someone so small, he’s very loud,” laughed Jeyne.

“Apologise, my Lady, but he’s hungry” muttered Vaeryna.

“Please take a seat” offered Jeyne.

Vaeryna nodded great fully and sat down, Rhaegar immediately rooting against her chest.

“Easy there. Issa byka zaldrīzes” whispered Vaeryna as she uncovered herself and allowed Rhaegar to latch on (My little dragon).

“I must say I’m surprised that you were allowed to come here” said Jeyne firmly.

“You know me, even if I wasn’t, I’d still make the journey” replied Vaeryna.

“I was worried for you, so many nights I laid awake in my chambers, praying you were ok and when word reached me that you’d had a child, I feared that-“

“-Admittedly the first time wasn’t so pleasant, but afterward I was a willing participant in the marriage bed” replied Vaeryna.

“Too think of you laying with that one eyed kinslayer, it made my skin crawl for such a long time,” said Jeyne.

“I made a promise remember” muttered Vaeryna.

“Yes, you did, and if I had more sense about me, I would have stopped you from going to Kings Landing in the first place”.

“I have accepted my position, things with Aemond aren’t so bad” said Vaeryna.

“You sound like you care for him?”

“I have his child, how can I not” muttered Vaeryna.

“I suppose” muttered Jeyne.

“Have you heard from Cregan, how is-“

“The boy is fine” replied Jeyne quietly.

“That’s good” mumbled Vaeryna sadly.

“Who does the other dragon belong too?” asked Jeyne as she looked out the window.

“Rhaegar, I guess” replied Vaeryna.

“Targaryen’s and their dragons” said Jeyne.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later”.

“Not as soon as this though, the boy is barely three moons old” said Jeyne smiling.

“The youngest Targaryen in our history to ever claim a full-grown dragon, no doubt his father will be impressed” replied Vaeryna.

At the mention of Aemond, Jeyne’s smiled disappeared and was replaced with a look of disdain. She didn’t like Aemond and of course she had good reason too, but he wasn’t all bad.

But Vaeryna didn’t think Jeyne would appreciate knowing the details of his prowess in bed, or that he was a generous lover.

“Might I be excused my Lady; I’ve had a long journey and Rhaegar needs his cloth changing”.

“Of course, and less of the lady-it’s Jeyne too you and I’ve had your old chambers prepared, everything you couldn’t take with you is still there” replied Jeyne.

Vaeryna smiled and bowed respectfully to Jeyne who waved her off with a deep sigh.

After Rhaegar had been changed and placed in the cradle, Vaeryna took a moment to think about her life and how things had changed since she was last here.

Her inner disgust at the thought of being anywhere near Aemond and how she came to care for him and eventually feel love.

In the back of her mind, she still thought about Jace, and the rest of her family. Would they be ashamed of her for loving Aemond or would they understand.

Her father had once told her to do what ever she had to in order to survive. To seize her opportunities and use them to her advantage.

As Vaeryna laid on the bed, she thought of Aemond and wondered if he’d stopped sulking yet, which in hindsight was unlikely. He probably wouldn’t stop sulking like a spoilt child until she returned to the Red Keep with Rhaegar.

In retrospect, Aemond was a second son and he never really had anything for himself except for Vhagar and even then, he lost his eye for it but when it came to her and Rhaegar, they were his, in every way possible.

Vaeryna didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but she awoke to the sounds of someone knocking on her door.

“Just a second” said Vaeryna as she checked to see if Rhaegar was still asleep, which he was, still clutching as his stuffed dragon teddy that Aemond had given him.

Vaeryna moved to open the door and gasped. Standing there in his heavy fur lined cloak was Cregan, his cheeks-tinged pink and his dark hair wild and unkempt.

“Princess” exclaimed Cregan as she swept Vaeryna into a tight hug.

“W-What are you doing here?” asked Vaeryna as she buried her face into Cregan’s shoulder, the fur of his cloak tickling her nose.

“When Jeyne told me you were coming here to visit, I just had to come” replied Cregan.

“H-How is he?” asked Vaeryna.

“See for yourself” said Cregan stepping aside to reveal the small boy leaning against the wall.

“SISTER!”

“Aegon” gasped Vaeryna as she swept her little brother into a tight hug.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x oc #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x original female character #hotd fic #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond smut #house of the dragon aemond #hotd smut

79 notes · View notes