#and the speakers are like top grade speakers too so when he blasts them at 3am for no reason its EXTRA annoying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eddiemania · 2 years

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A Hard Worker! e. munson

Description: Eddie feels jealous, so he fucks his best friend on top of the car he's fixing.

Warnings: mechanic eddie, dom!eddie, cheerleader!reader, oral sex, spanking, PiV, doggystyle, protective!eddie, degrading/praising.

You felt your feet throbbing the more steps you took. Returning from afternoon cheer practice was always harder than mornings. Carrying the entire day's tiredness, you had to get dressed, arrive at school, practice, and then, with painful limbs, walk back home.

Today's practice, though, was quite surprising.

As you paced, your mind wandered around the events that had taken place. Chance Peterson passed down a message to you through Linda Richards about his feelings as well as a sealed letter, which the girl delivered to you with a smirk on her face.

You were informed that it hadn't been opened by her or anyone else, but chances were she knew about what it contained since her boyfriend was best friends with the jock himself.

You kept on walking, holding it in your grip before the sign you were looking for eventually appeared in your eyesight.

"Thatcher Tires"

It was 9pm. The sun had completely gone down and the only light on the street you found yourself in was occasionally flickering. You tightly gripped the garage door before sliding it, revealing Eddie's half-worn overall, and half of his tank top-clothed torso covered in greases and stains.

Iron Maiden was blasting on the speakers, making Eddie unable to hear you enter. You swore this boy would get murdered one day.

He was the only one inside the store, and since his boss was missing, he had stayed overtime for whatever reason. Maybe he was too interested in the car he was working on or had gotten into an argument with his uncle back home, but either way, you were glad you did not walk here all the way for nothing.

Your friendship with Eddie wasn't considered weird or confusing to the surrounding people until high school. By the time you were a freshman, he was already a senior. It didn't take long until you became well-liked and even quite popular.

Everyone liked you. You were kind, polite and sweet so when everyone saw how close you were with your best friend who, while you were in middle school, had created a pretty scandalous impression, they assumed the worst for him and even tried talking you out of spending time with him.

Eventually, you had reached your senior year, which he had failed twice due to his low grades despite you trying to help him out of his D's and C's.

You walked towards the black Mercedes he was under, placing a paper bag of food on its hood before making your way to the speakers, turning the record off.

Eddie immediately wiggled out of his position, his hand over his heart as he panted, "Jesus!" he groaned, causing you to lightly smile, "Did I scare you, poor thing?" you innocently glanced at him, "Spare me."

He looked at the hood of the car, sending a glare at you, "You're not allowed to place stuff up here, y/n" you rolled your eyes at his words, approaching him, "You should be thankful I walked after practice just to bring my best friend something to eat," you punched his arm.

"Righ blessing us with your appearance after going M.I.A for a week," he scoffed, opening the bag, "I'm sorry, but you know we're preparing for the match this weekend." you sat next to him.

You did feel slightly bad because you knew he was right.

"Why did you stay overtime?" you questioned, stroking the boy's hair before putting them in a bun as he unwrapped his burger. Eddie always relaxed when you touched his hair, leaning against your hands. "I had nothing better to do." he took a bite.

"Plus, it's a nice car, isn't it?" he glanced at the vehicle with admiration. Ever since he was little, he fancied expensive and nice-looking rides. You hummed in agreement, watching his bangs slightly sticking on his glistening forehead as he ate.

"What's this?" he asked, his gaze traveling down on the envelope you had inside your grip. You glanced down, shaking your head with an awkward smile. "Nothing important."

His eyes narrowed, yet he said nothing to you, "Just... foolish boys," you pressed your lips into a thin line, striding around the garage in your cheer uniform.

"Ah, did you get a love letter, sweetheart?" he spoke with fake awe, before throwing away the wraper in his hands. You nodded in response, making your way to him.

"What does it say?" Eddie asked, but you simply shrugged, "You haven't opened it yet?" he questioned, "No,"

"What are you waiting for?" he encouraged, placing some of his tools inside a box next to the car. You gave the envelope another glance before carefully opening it, taking the letter it contained out.

You began reading it, Eddie's eyes fixated on you, but once the words on it sunk in, your eyes had gone wide, your cheeks beginning to heat up. "What? What's wrong?" the curlyhead asked, getting no reply from you.

"Sweetheart?" he called again, this time approaching you before his hand attempted to take the paper. You quickly shifted away, making him look at you with confusion, "y/n," he chased after you as you quickly paced away, taking your waist in his hands before slamming your back on his chest, "Eddie no!" you tried to escape his grip in vain before the boy successfully took the letter.

"You are so stunning. I'm losing my mind every time I come across you at school," he read out, your fighting not preventing him the slightest from continuing, "You make me feel like a fucking pervert whenever I touch myself to the thoughts of your beautiful body in my hands," he paused for a second, visible disturbance in his eyes, "Eddie!"

"I want you to be mine. I want to touch every single part of you. Meet me at the benches at eleven o'clock tomorrow, Chance."

He expressionlessly folded the paper, about to place it beside him when you reached to grab it out of his hand. "I told you to stop!" you glared at him. "So what are you going to do?" he avoided your eyes with a stiff look on his.

"What?"

"Will you meet him? Your jock friend, who wants to touch your beautiful body?" he moved his head to the direction of the letter, his hands crossed over his chest, "Maybe I will," you were unsure about this, you just wanted to piss him off and cut the protective act he always tried to sell you.

"Let me guess... Your other princess friends encouraged you? Hm?" you rolled your eyes at his choice of words, walking close to him, "If I want to meet him, I won't listen to them, or you," you looked up, defending yourself, but he only chuckled.

"So defensive, and for what? A fucking brainless douchebag who just wants to take your panties off?" you raised your eyebrows, slightly pushing him, "Because that's why a dude would only approach me right? To fuck me." you gritted your teeth.

"I didn't say that," he did not break eye contact once, his head moving closer to you, "You know damn well what kind of guy Chance Peterson is and what he has said about me, you just want to act all defensive because you're pissed that I'm looking after you," he spoke.

"Whether I decide to go out with him, I know what he wants. You're not my dad to tell me what you feel about anyone that is interested in me, Eddie!"

"Oh, so you just want to get fucked, don't you?"

Your eyes widened before your palm met the skin of his face, slapping him out of frustration, immediately bringing your hands in front of your mouth after the realization hit you.

Eddie hissed, his palm patting the soreness on his face, "I'm so sorry Eds!" you touched his cheek with worry, your spare hand on his chest, "God, I'm so sorry!"

He did not respond, something that worried you even more than the redness on his face. "I don't want his hands anywhere near you," he clenched his jaw when your eyes locked contact with his. You frowned your brows, your hand letting go of his cheek, "You don't have to prote-"

"No,"

Before you could question him, he spoke. "I'm not-" he paused, hitting the table next to him when his hand reached your waist, pulling you closer for his lips to touch yours.

Your eyes remained open, surprise making you unable to move, "I'm just fucking pissed," his head moved next to yours, lips near your ear, "Pissed that someone like him wants to touch my little girl," he whispered, your cheeks heating up.

His little girl...

You would have never believed neither that such words would come out of his mouth nor that they would have such an effect on you. His arms remained on your waist, "I almost lost it when you told me Mark Peron took your virginity last year," he sighed, "I'm not proud about it, it's just..." his forehead was placed on your shoulder, "I wanted to be the one that-" he stopped himself, moving away from you.

You were finally able to look to his entire figure walking away, the sweet taste he had left on your lips making your fingers brush over them.

"Let's go, I'll drive you home," he said, grabbing his van keys off the floor before you ran and took them out of his hand, "You wanted to take my virginity?" you eyed him, but he avoided contact, "I just wanted to make sure it felt good," he mumbled.

"Oh, I should be thanking you then!" you smiled sarcastically making him shake his head, "Let's just go, y/n," he's about to slide the door but you stay behind.

"Thank you for fantasizing about jumping me Eddie! You're the best!" you slide the door back close, giving him a judging glare as you stood in front of him, "Don't look at me like that," he swallowed, "Why? Does it make your dick hard?" you scoffed.

"Yes,"

His hand took your wrist, minimizing the distance when he once again kissed you, but this time you did not hold back. Your hands were instantly wrapped around your best friend's neck, pulling him even closer before you found yourself pushed against the cold wall, his knee managing to make it's way between your soft thighs.

He kept restraining himself from shifting his hands lower to your ass, but a loud groan left his lips once you guided them there yourself, keeping yours over his, encouraging to squeeze you tightly.

You threw your head back in pleasure, giving him the perfect chance to kiss and bite your warm neck, "So you did just want to get fucked, hm?" he smiled against you, making you whine in pleasure, "Because deep down, my little girl always happened to be a secret little slut,"

You returned your lips on his, the skin of your belly feeling his hard cock against you, "Eds," you moaned, causing him to sigh deeply, "Just tell me yes and I'll take you right here if that's what you want." he spoke firmly, his hand beginning to play with your panties under your skirt, pulling the elastic and letting it snap back against your skin.

"Yes, ye-"

He forced his tongue inside your mouth, pushing you back inside the workplace before his hand reached beneath your thighs, the boy pulling you on him.

Quickly, you felt the quick movement of spinning before you found yourself laying face down on the cold surface of the freshly fixed Mercedes.

He stood between your spread legs, lifting your skirt slightly before a groan escaped his lips, "What an ass..." you whined, trying to support yourself on the hood.

"Next time we argue you won't act like a deprived little whore," he leaned down, "Got it?" his left hand tapped your back. You kept your mouth shut, slight curiosity keeping you from agreeing when a scream escaped your mouth, his hand harshly spanking your ass.

"Answer Ms. 'beautiful body'," he rubbed your freshly red flesh, "Got it," you bit your lip, slightly arching. You felt ashamed, but you wanted more. His dominance made your cunt ache, a wet stain becoming visible on your pink panties.

"You like that don't you? Having your best friend call you a slut, his slut. I just can't wait to see how well you take my fucking cock," another spank followed.

"Eddie," your feet found his thighs, pulling him closer. The boy lost his balance, slightly falling over you before chuckling. His lips began kissing your ass. He licked and kissed hungrily, unable to get enough of it.

"See baby, how could I let any asshole kiss my little girl's beautiful ass? I'm so selfish, I want it all to myself," he lifted the bottom of your panties, licking a good strand of your exposed pussy.

You moaned loudly, holding back from hitting the car's hood. You needed to grip onto something desperately.

Maybe he was right. You felt like such a slut letting Eddie do this to you but it felt so damn good.

Spanks came one after the other, your ass feeling sore and painful, "Eds please, it hurts so good," you whined, a satisfied smile on his lips.

"Get on all fours for me, my beautiful," he dragged you lower on the car by your thighs, "Please fuck me," you cried out arching like a cat in front of him.

His dick ached as he watched you in your tiny skirt. You looked adorable, offering all your body to him. The boy pulled your underwear on the side wiggling his tongue against your folds. "Tastes like heaven," he moaned against you, caressing your back.

You loudly groaned, taking your shirt and bra off with out his call. He obviously hadn't noticed...

He kissed and sucked your pussy, the absence of fabric on your soft back making him look up, eyes secretly widening. He didn't hesitate, immediately reaching to touch one of your tits before continuing to suck you off.

You placed your hand over his larger one as he massaged you. Eventually, he managed to put yours under his, palming your own chest with you.

"Eddie- feels' so damn good!" you cried.

"Cum. Cum on my face, please goddess," he groaned, sloppy sounds of him eating your cunt filling the entire garage.

"Give me your sweet cum, please baby," he practically whined, his hand lightly slapping your tit.

You couldn't help it anymore. You let it all out, your body started to shake yet his tongue remained attached to you, patiently waiting for your leaks to reach his mouth.

"Mm, good girl," he praised, caressing your ass.

"I thought..." you swallowed, trying to catch your breath, "I thought you weren't allowed to place anything on the hood," you sighed, listening to his soft chuckle, "Stuff on the hood can cause damage. Your naked body is a blessing." he bit you softly, making you giggle.

The metalhead didn't waste any time before gently lifting you to place you on your back, finally watching your blushed face.

"Who's my naughty little girl?" he spoke softly, caressing your cheek, "Me," you grinned, bitting your lower lip.

"I'm your..." your confidence died down when you realized the position you were in, and acknowledged the way he was staring into your eyes, "Yes?" he hummed.

"Your naughty girl..." you whispered shyly, avoiding his eyes, "Excatly. See how easy you learn things?" your knee brushed his erection, making the boy moan.

He pulled down his overalls, palming himself over his tight boxers to ease some of the pressure. You took the chance to sit up and carefully begin undressing him off his tank top.

His tattoos came in display in front of your face before you started placing sloppy kisses on his belly, "Beg," he made you look at him.

"Beg me to fuck you," he spoke with a baby voice to you, your eyes looking at him with desire, "Eddie, I need you," you kissed him, "I need you inside of me, please." you moaned, "Please baby," you formed a hickey under his tattoo, one that he visibly appreciated.

"Spread those thighs for me, goddess," he smiled, softly pushing them apart, "I haven't done this in a while Eds," you nervously spoke when his lips found your forehead, "I'll take good care of you, don't worry,"

His tip started, rubbing your wet entrance, making sure every inch of you was wet and ready for him. Eddie slapped his dick against you a couple of times before slowly and steadily pushing the head inside of you.

You moaned, feeling your body being lowered down back on the cars cold surface, your best friend's body coming down with you. His lips played with your neck, a few hickeys being left.

Your hands moved on the back of his head, releasing his hair from your hair tie before running your hands through them, "More?" he bit your jaw, "More." you breathed feeling his dick sliding all the way in, "Oh shit!"

He began thrusting inside of you, at first softly before his pace fastened up, the sounds of your skins contacting each other feeling the room, "Eddie!" you pulled his hair, earning a loud grunt from him, "Want to cum again don't you?" he huskily spoke, when you nodded.

"Cum you fucking cockslut," he whined, "Come around my dick," he went slow but hard, making sure you took every inch of him.

You cried out loudly, your nails digging his entire back as your legs wrapped around his waist, "Let's see if that little cunt, Chance, can pound you like this," he moaned, his face buried in your neck.

The knot in your stomach finally released, warm cum running down your legs. Eddie immediately pulled out, beginning to pump himself over your belly, "Can I?" he questioned, and you nodded when you felt him leaking on your skin.

"Ho- holy shit," he cried, kissing your thighs individually, a few minutes passing by in silence for you both to catch your breaths.

"We should get going," he then broke the comfortable silence, a smirk plastered on his stupid face, "What? Why?" you frowned, worried that someone was here, "You have a date tomorrow," he winked when you hit his back, a chuckle escaping his gorgeous lips.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #mechanic eddie munson #mechanic!eddie

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uglypastels · 1 year

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Ooo lucky you actually saw them. I wanted to but I was a late-ish fan and I could never afford to see them. But thats cool, did you cry? Were they perfect? (My younger self could never) And honestly yeah id feel superior too if I were you lol luckily within my friend group I was the only one that liked Niall so I felt superior as well lmao they all liked Harry or zayn. Liam was another underrated one.

We all had the shrine lmao mine was just everywhere, my whole room was just 1D or the wanted smh it wouldve been the the cherry on top of I had candles back then lol

I havent seen the tik tok, I should look for it tho somehow. I have a love hate relationship with tik tok. I just create unhealthy habits with things I swear. At least a girl could own the cringe lol I cant lol I took his lil face everywhere, a school field trip and everything, I even showed it off to my parents like they should be proud LMAO and I showed my friends who for some reason also wanted a head of their favorites like bro no you don't want that lol I wish I had the girls confidence to keep bring his cut out😂

Dude back then all the Zains were gettin it. My cousin who was a zayn stan also met a guy named zain irl like bruh she was all heart eyes just cuz of that. Its funny that thats no longer an original experience for her😆

Idk were just a special breed of people lol

I saw them in 2014 with 5sos as support act. It was peak everything. Its also the only concert i travellec abroad for (also my first ever concert haha) because when they were doing my local show i was at 8th grade camp which is a big thing so i couldnt miss that. I recently found my/my mom's videos from it and jesus the quality is not it. All just screams and the bass blasting off the speakers but god if it wasnt the best nigbt of my life

And no but i the name wasnt even the reason i had a crush 😭 he was tall and funny and i was a tween and was falling head over heels for any boy that paid an ounce of attention to me. The fact his name was zain just made it funny (we bonded for both having Z names. Slay)

I literally never met a liam fav im sorry he was not it for me

Ooh, also, in 8th grade we had to hold presentations about songs. And my bestie and i did Best Song Ever. Never did i have to prepair so little haha. We knew everything by heart, from info about the boys to the lyrics to the script of that bit at the beginning of the video and all the choreos. I remember they asked us to do it again because we danced along as we were watching the vid and i felt so proud because they all seemed genuinely impressed with our knowledge haha

#ranking the boys would be #1. louis #2. niall #3-4 zayn and harry (interchangable)#and then sorry to payno

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late-night-secrets · 2 years

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Blue Assistance

Relationship: I.N./Yang Jeongin x female Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word count: ~8.4k (in 1 chapter)

Description: In which a college class goes to an amusement park.

masterlist

“So, here we are.” After raising his voice a little, our professor got everyone’s attention. Since it was a workday, there were not many visitors, but that did not stop several speakers from blasting Christmas songs through the whole area. “All different kind of activities. If you’re hungry, food and drinks are right over there.” He gestured towards the huge snack bar placed almost in the center of this gigantic hall. “Well, hard to miss, I suppose,” he murmured, still most of us heard him. For his remark he earned a few chuckles.

“Bathrooms–” Apparently a bit lost, he looked around without finding the signs that lead to the bathrooms. “–are here as well. Somewhere. What am I doing? You’re grown-up.”

Damn right, we were. College was a weird time. Too old to count as children, too young to feel like responsible adults. Loans were high and people were broke, but still I kind of liked it. Because sometimes I already felt tired and exhausted and doubted, I would live longer than five more years, and then sometimes we did things like this. Choosing this project class had turned out to be a good idea. I had been hesitant at first since none of my friends had signed up, but the people were nice, and the professor wore an infectiously cheerful attitude. He saw himself more as a guiding fellow than a leading authority whose only supremacy lied in grading our work.

As an early Christmas gift and to celebrate all what we had done in the last few months, he had invited us to one of the biggest amusement parks of the country. Since it was winter season, only the indoor area was open which meant that most of the grand rides were out of the game. Still, it was a promising excursion. One might think that we were a bit too old for this kind of stuff, but truth was that most of us held that former child of ours dear in our hearts. On top of all, our professor. I bet he had just looked for an excuse to come here.

“You guys are clever enough to find them,” he continued, still talking about the bathrooms. More chuckling, one or two playfully doubting looks.

“We’ll meet again at five at the bus. Now, run off, youngsters, and enjoy the best years of youth.”

The small crowd of college students was about to dispense, when he added, “And for those of you who want to try the ice skating race, this young gentleman over there will explain you the rules.” He pointed towards a staff member just a few years older than the most of us. With a bright smile he waved us Hello.

Half of us, including me, started moving towards him, the rest made their way somewhere else.

“Where are they going?” I heard someone ask behind me. “What did he say?” Even without looking, I knew it was Jeongin. He was a Korean first-year who still had some difficulties with English. As far as I could tell he understood a lot already, but when things got hasty, he would sometimes have problems. Also, he had not got rid of his accent yet and I lowkey found it really cute.

I was about to turn around to answer him, but someone else was faster. “Those who want to do the ice race should go over there,” I heard them respond.

“Ah–?” In my head, I could clearly imagine the grateful but still slightly confused look on Jeongin’s face. There were times when he needed more than one attempt to comprehend.

The next moment I heard a third voice speaking. They used a language I did not understand. Korean, obviously. That had to be Chris. Like Jeongin, he was Korean, but Chris was born in Australia. He was a few years older and quite popular. Definitely understandable: He was kind and helpful and many people felt drawn to his bright, open-minded personality. A hard-working young man who never forgot to watch out for others. Sometimes, his Australian accent slipped through which just made him more likeable. And of course, he was rather handsome, too. Apparently, his only flaw was his height and even that was just below the average. Long story short, I was truly intimidated by him. Not that he had ever acted scary or creepy towards me – quite the opposite, during the few short encounters we had he was as nice as he appeared. It was just… He was kind of too perfect to be real. I enjoyed his presence, but at the same time I felt – drastically speaking – unworthy of doing so. Like a plebeian next to a prince.

The first time, I saw Jeongin he had reminded me of a lost puppy. He seemed shy and would stay quiet for most times. Well, being a foreigner in a country with a language you were not able to speak fluently had to be hard. Yet just the fact that Jeongin went through it meant he owned some kind of silent determination. This was much more my type of people to deal with. Once I had found him quite helpless. He had lost his way, so together we had figured out where his next lecture took place. Just a few minutes we had spent together chitchatting about unimportant subjects. But just before we had parted, he had given me a bright smile. Dimples, I had thought. How cute. Even his eyes had seemed to be smiling. Looking like that he had thanked me, genuinely, and then left.

I would be lying if I said I had not developed a small crush on him since then. Several times we had met again briefly, and I had always felt a bit lighter afterwards. When I had realized that we would take the same project class, I had had to admit to myself that I had been really looking forward to it. That was until Chris who had also chosen this class had approached Jeongin. They both got along immediately. Jeongin had found someone who helped him to overcome his language barrier and even Chris seemed to get a lot from this relationship. Obviously, he had many friends, but he looked especially comfortable around Jeongin. Probably because he reminded him of his home. It was sweet to see such dear friends.

For me it also meant that Jeongin was out of reach. This was not world’s end, not at all. I had classes to focus on, had work to be done. And it was not like Jeongin was my first crush ever. I knew how it went: First I was interested, then I somehow develop deeper feelings based on short encounters and after a few weeks – months at its best – it would fade away. So, I dealt with it as following: Ignoring my hormones until they would get bored and leave me alone. Occasions like these, an amusement park instead of a normal college day, helped.

I heard Jeongin’s and Chris’ voices fading away. With a hopefully inconspicuous glance I looked behind me to see them both wandering off to the food court. A small part of me was relieved that they would not see my poor ice skating skills.

We gathered in front of the staff member who was about to explain the ice skating race. He was standing in front of the rink, one of the main attractions of the indoor area. Centered in the middle of this gigantic hall and lying a bit lower than the ground floor it drew everyone’s attention as soon as they entered. The food court was located right next to it. These days it was decorated with fake snow, pine and holly and lots of fairy lights fitting to the oncoming Christmas days.

“Alright, guys, listen up,” the staff member spoke. His cap and his vest showed the colorful logo of the amusement park. “In fifteen minutes, the next round of the Racing Ice will start. Then… Well, the rink looks quite normal, almost boring, right?”

I glanced over his head to realize that it was true. Well, our grandparents probably would have found the rink quite exiting with its curves and steeps. As far as I knew, back in their days they had solely an oval-shaped area where they would skate in circles. Like prisoners during scheduled outdoors hours. These days, it looked like one of many ice rinks.

“But be assured”, the man continued. “As soon as the Racing Ice starts, this rink will turn into the most exciting place you have ever seen.” Judging from his overexaggerating words, he usually dealt with younger clients. Still, I was thrilled. “The basic rule is that you need to be skating as constantly and fast as possible. When you borrow your ice skates, you will also get a watch-like device. You wear it on your wrist.” He lifted his arm and pulled his sleeve back, so we could all see the thin elastic bracelet with a smooth display. Truly, from this distance I would have easily mistaken it for a simple watch. “It’s connected to your skates and can detect your velocity. As soon as you reach a velocity of at least 5mph, the timer on our clever watches starts automatically. It will count for how long you can keep up your speed as well as your personal high score. Regarding both the time of skating with at least 5mph and what was your actual highest speed. But be warned. When you slow down below 5mph and remain there for longer than three seconds, your data will be reset. Your previous scores will be nullified.”

5mph? My excitement dulled. I had been ice skating before, but it was not like I was good. At my best, I would survive a whole session without falling once. I never had my speed measured. No idea if I would manage to make my timer even start counting.

Apparently, the staff member had noticed several insecure looks. “Don’t worry. 5mph is not that fast. Double the speed of you walking normally. That’s about it.”

That did not help at all. Near me, I heard someone whispering to themselves, “How the hell would I know how fast I walk?” I felt that.

“You’ll see. It won’t be hard,” the man reassured. “After thirty minutes, the race will be over. Then, the score of the top ten will be shown over there.” He pointed towards a large screen in the food court area. But he still had not finished yet, “Of course, that’s not all there is to it. There will be obstacles along your way. Splotches of yellow floor will randomly appear in front of you. You won’t be able to skate on them, they are not made out of ice. How you avoid them, is up to you. Other than that, there will be different kind of difficulties no one can foresee. Spikes coming out of the floor, for example. The spikes themself would be harmless, of course, but they would definitely slow you down. However, where’s a problem, there’s a solution. Or help, in this case. Again, no one can predict what it will look like, but when you seem to struggle, you’ll get assistance which can either help you actively or support you by trying to disturb others. If you’re worried that something will go wrong, it won’t. For all of that – be it the randomization, the obstacles or the help – we use PAI. Having the latest software installed, it can act faster than ever before. It will turn this simple ice rink into an unforgettable time. Now, I hope you enjoy the Racing Ice. It starts in ten minutes.”

PAI was promising. Physical Artificial Intelligence. It had been a breakthrough in science when the actual first completely successful PAI had been developed a few decades ago. I could not recall what exactly it had been, but I remembered my parents telling me about 3D-emojis – or 3D-M’s as they had been called – during the early times of PAI. The emojis could react according to one’s emotion and actually learn new ones. Now, 3D-M’s were outdated for ages. Of course, the old and jaundiced who despised anything new and creative claimed that robots would take over the world – a very long-living discussion – but barely anyone was paying attention to them. These days, it was usual to teach students about PAI in order to understand its development. How it worked was basic knowledge. PAI would learn constantly but not exactly remember doing so. Like humans knew how to walk or speak and that at some point in our life we had went through the process of learning, but we could not recall it. Nowadays, PAI was a common helping tool when it came to intellectual work. Like constructing an ice skating race.

Ten minutes later we were standing on the ice, skates on our feet, watches on our wrists. The air was chilly. The whole indoor park already smelled like a cool winter day, but here on the rink I could imagine we would actually freeze if we did not wear our coats. I noticed I was not the only one with wobbly legs. There was no railing which we could use as a support, however most people had at least one other person to hold on to if things got too slippery. In this class, I did not really have any friends – it was not like I was unpopular, I got along with most of my classmates, it was just that there was no one I was close with. Like Jeongin and Chris, for example. That meant if I slipped, I would either drag down the person next to me or just fall.

Suddenly, noise like a far too loud honk sounded. The signal that marked the beginning of the race. Around me my classmates started moving. Some tumbled within the first seconds. I was not better. According to my watch I had not even reached 5mph when I became a victim of gravity for the first time today. With a dull Thud I landed on my bump. “Ouch,” I murmured to myself. Standing up without a railing was even harder. When I finally managed to do so, I needed to catch some breath. This was going to be a tough time.

Looking around, I realized I was not the only one with poor ice skating skills. Then again, most seemed to have at least one or two friends to drag down and laugh with them. Frankly, I felt a tiny sting in my chest.

Whatever. The fast ones had already completed half of the course. Though I did not expect to make it into top ten, I wanted to try my best. The second attempt went better. Soon I had achieved a steady pace, just slightly above 5mph. My timer counted. I was not fast and looking professional and cool was not even an option, but I was ice skating. So far, so good.

Completely concentrated I cut off any sensory input of my periphery. The other people around me, neither the ones that passed me nor the ones I passed – the latter barely happening in the first place – the cold air caressing my face, even my sense of time; it all went by. Nothing counted except for the ice right in front of me. It looked cold and hard and clean. Frequently, I saw traces of white dust which could be mistaken for snow. It had to be coming from my classmates that had left those remnants after marking the ice with their blades.

This worked until suddenly, the ground beneath me turned from white to yellow. Startled, I was not fast enough to proceed what was happening. The next thing I registered was me losing speed withing a second. My body could not react in time; I stumbled and fell. It was not as painful as back then on the ice, but still, it was an experience I did not need. The yellow surface had a strange consistence, somewhat rubbery, similar to gym floor. Definitely not the kind of flooring one could use for ice skating.

At least getting up was easier. A glance at my timer and I saw that it had reset itself. “Ah, well,” I sighed. Maybe I should pay more attention to my surroundings. Looking around I saw my classmates spread around the rink. It was quite a sight. Randomly, parts of the ice turned into yellow floor like the one I was currently standing on. It usually happened right in front of people. I realized, you needed really quick reflexes in order to avoid them, and suddenly I did not feel too unskilled anymore. But the floor was not the biggest problem. I did see the PAI. Mostly, they took the form of flying somethings that would chase after my classmates in order to hit them. On the other side of the rink I witnessed a dark blue wall popping up out of nowhere, so a group of three would bump right into it. After tumbling they all had a good laugh.

A girl passed me. She seemed really focused. Below her right eyes was a large dot. It was too big to be a mere beauty spot I just had not noticed before. I observed her for a short while. Out of nowhere she made a slight change of direction even though there was no curve. Only a moment later, yellow floor popped up. If she had not switched her track, she would have been skating right onto it. As if she had known that the floor would turn beforehand. If I recalled correctly, the dot seemed to be blueish.

Anyway, standing around was not the point. With tiny steps I made my way to the edge of the yellow floor awkwardly. Now that I had gotten a bit used to it, I reached 5mph faster. This time I also tried to watch out for any kind of obstacles. In fact, just a few minutes later I saw something moving rapidly across the ice out of the corner of my eye. Dark blue matter looking like liquid passed me with highspeed. In front of me it divided itself into several, small hemispheres. PAI. It forced me to skate in wavy lines around them. Since I felt more and more confident with each passing second, I managed not to fall. I was sure I could handle this.

And I did. As soon as I passed the last hemispheres they seemed to melt and flowed together to build that liquid-y matter once more. Then it vanished, off to so someone else. A part of me wondered where it came from. Maybe from the small piles of fake snow that laid outside of the tracks of the rink.

In front of me, I saw a boy who seemed to have more problems than me. His friend constantly tried to drag him along, but instead both were slowed down. Just as I was about to pass them, there was PAI flowing as blue liquid towards them. Maybe it was even the same one that tried to hold me up earlier. Without hesitation it crawled upwards along and then into the ice skates of the struggling boy. A second later he seemed to gain balance and got faster. His ice skating looked a lot steadier as well. Now, he was the one dragging his friend. “This is awesome!” he cheered out as they were moving away from me.

A curve lied ahead of me. I had taken some already, but this one looked like a sharp turn. I would manage without falling below 5mph, I just needed to concentrate. Shifting my balance, I stumbled a bit, but it was fine. However, something in my periphery was flying towards me. The first word that crossed my mind was arrow, though it was blue and most likely would not hurt me as much as a real arrow. Still, I panicked and ducked instinctively, yet I was in the midst of taking a turn. I lost control over my body and knew I would tumble before doing so.

Was there blue matter on the ground next to me?

Not a second too late, someone grabbed me preventing me from falling. “Careful,” they said and pulled me back on my feet.

“Thank you,” I replied breathlessly. My heart still pounded twice as fast as usual. In return, it seemed to stop for a moment when I was turning around to look at my savior. Unconsciously, I flinched. I had not expected to see that much blue.

A tall figure stood in front of me – a young man, to be precise. A dark blue, young man. The same color as the wall, the hemispheres, the liquid that moved by itself.

So I had been seeing PAI when I had fallen.

Now, it looked like a person, but everything – the clothes, the skin, the hair, the hand that was still holding me to help me to maintain my balance – was blue. Blue and a bit shiny. The PAI gave the impression it would feel like jelly. But its hand seemed solid. “Thank… you,” I muttered again. This was… strange.

For a moment it was just plainly looking at me, then it smiled a little. “You said that already.” After he made sure I could stand on my own, he let go of me.

I took a closer look at its face. It was familiar somehow. High cheekbones, a prominent jawline, monolid eyes that slightly squinted while smiling, faint hints of dimples… I flinched again when I realized a blue PAI-version of Jeongin stood in front of me, his pupil-less eyes watching me closely. The next words just slipped out of my mouth, “Why do you look like my classmate?”

“Do I?” he answered. His blue face did seem mildly surprised.

I simply nodded.

“Well.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe you can answer this for yourself. After all, I am programmed to turn into whatever the player currently needs the most.”

Saying that, I suddenly could not look at him anymore. My god, this was embarrassing. “And that’s supposed to be Jeongin?” I muttered bitterly. So much for not thinking about my crush. Speaking of, where was he? I knew he did not participate in the race, but the rink was in the middle of an open area. It could be seen from many angles. Oh, please, of all people he was the last one I wanted to see this. I could not find him from where I stood, so vice versa he should not be able to see me either. Right?

Even though I had talked to myself, Blue Jeongin answered, “Apparently.”

I looked at him and he smiled again. Even his clothes looked similar to the ones Jeongin was wearing today. Though, he was not exactly like him. Aside from the color, he spoke differently. His voice was the same – his voice was the same – but his accent had vanished. Also, his expressions seemed… less emotional. At least, I got that feeling. Maybe it was due to the one-colored appearance of his. Maybe because it was actually PAI.

“And now?” I asked since nothing was happening.

“Now, you should continue the race,” Blue Jeongin said very reasonably.

A bit startled I repeated, “The race. Right. What about you?”

“I’ll accompany you. That is my objective.”

I raised my eyebrows. “To be my company?”

He shifted a little. The movement made him seemingly impatient. “To be whatever the player currently needs the most. I said that, didn’t I?” Yeah, definitely impatient.

“A babysitter?” I guessed again.

Now, Blue Jeongin groaned frustratedly and I bet he would roll his eyes if he had pupils. “A partner, I suppose. Someone who can catch you if you fall.”

“Oh,” I made quietly, and I felt embarrassed again. And, to be honest, flattered. “Right. That makes sense.” I needed a moment to comprehend what he had just said. “For how long will you be with me? I mean, don’t you have to help other players, too?”

“I am where I have to be,” he answered solemnly. “Other will be helped as well. I will stay with you as long as you need me to. Now–“ He took my hand and smiled again, more brightly than before. “I’m afraid your timer has reset itself. Let’s make sure that it won’t happen again.”

(read the rest on ao3)

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #i.n. x reader #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin/i.n.#fluff #stray kids fluff #angsty #non idol au #bang chan #christopher bang #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #kpop #yes i have weird dreams

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ptergwen · 4 years

Text

let’s just pretend

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: rom com references, drinking, and a little bit of angst

summary: you cope with your feelings for peter by getting drunk on halloween

a/n: ok i really really love this and i loved writing it too? it’s the first like original idea i’ve had in a while so maybe that’s why but yeah i hope y’all enjoy and that this puts you in a halloweenish mood :-)

there’s something about fall that makes you nostalgic. the same images pop into your head whenever you hear the word october. pumpkin patches, colorful leaves, and hot coffee. it reminds you of being a kid. only when you were a kid, all you could think about this time of year was what you were going to be for halloween.

you’d spend weeks getting your costume together and coordinating with all your friends. trick or treating was literally the only thing that mattered. if you wanted to get good candy, you had to have a good costume.

the high school version of candy is alcohol. everyone just goes to parties so they can drink the whole night. no one even dresses up usually. you personally would rather have chocolate than cheap beer. your whole friend group agrees on that.

that’s why you decided to throw your own party this year. anyone who misses the old halloween can come hang out. so far it’s only peter, mj, ned, betty, and the rest of the decathlon team coming. betty invited everyone for you. she also asked liz, but she’s going to flash’s party. he only gets so many people because his parents are never home and don’t care if he raids the liquor cabinet. whatever.

you’re out finding something to wear with peter and mj a few hours before it starts. ned and betty already picked their costumes. she’s going as an angel, and he’s going as the devil. you think they should switch. they’re out shopping for snacks while the three of you hit up spirit halloween.

mj groans every single second there’s silence, and peter keeps getting scared by the motion sensor decorations. he eventually ends up having to go somewhere in the store that doesn’t have any. so, it’s a lot.

“why don’t you be a vampire?” mj asks in her fake interested voice, taking a pair of fangs off the rack in front of her. you scoff. “i think i did that in sixth grade.” she puts them back with a huff. “witch?” she’s just suggesting every costume she sees so you can get out of here. her lack of enthusiasm makes you want to take longer.

“no.”

“zookeeper?”

“eh.”

“what about cat in the hat?”

“mj, what? no.”

“uh... school girl?”

“ok, that’s just offensive.”

“you’re right. why do they have that?” she eyes the costume suspiciously. you cover it up with a random cloak that fell onto the floor. you’re never going to find anything at this point. maybe it’s a sign you’re too old for this. just when you’re about to lose all hope, peter comes over.

he’s holding up the plaid yellow skirt and blazer cher wears in clueless. it’s one of the most iconic rom com outfits. you grab it with a gasp, peter giving you a knowing smile. “oh my god! wait, where did you find this?” “they have a section with movie stuff.” there’s a han solo costume in his other hand.

you throw an arm around his neck for a quick hug. peter squeezes you and chuckles when he pulls away. it gets a sigh out of mj.

“sure you don’t wanna be the guy she ends up with?” she elbows peter’s arm. the two of you share a disgusted look. “josh? ew, he’s her ex stepbrother,” you dismiss her. “they’re, like, related,” peter adds. mj rolls her eyes almost to the back of her head and starts to walk away. “someone needs to unplug both of your tv’s.” you and peter follow after her.

of course she would suggest a couple’s costume. she was probably trying to make you both get weird. you’re always being teased for spending so much time together. even your parents and may make little comments about it. you can’t help the fact that you have almost everything in common.

peter is the only person your age who doesn’t try so hard to be cool. when you’re with him, you can be the biggest nerd and wear fluffy pajamas and play with legos. it’s a judgement free friendship.

you’ll admit you’ve wanted it to become a judgement free relationship. there’s no way he doesn’t feel your heart beating against him when you cuddle during movie nights. he has to notice your goofy smile whenever he calls you a nickname.

but, it could all be platonic in peter’s mind. maybe he sees you as more of a sister. that would make josh the perfect costume to go with you as cher.

you shutter and try to push the idea out of your mind for the rest of your time at spirit halloween.

it’s almost time for the party to start when you get back to your house. your parents let betty and ned in to start setting up on their way out. they’re going for dinner so they aren’t around to embarrass you. you have until midnight, then there’s nothing you can do. that gives you four hours.

mj is changing into the coraline costume you made her get, which she actually doesn’t hate. betty is helping you do some last minute decorating. peter and ned are putting out snacks. it’s a really good system you have.

“love the the plaid, y/n. you look so fetch!” betty compliments in between throwing fake cobwebs over your couch. you snort and finish stringing up some lights. “wrong movie, but thanks.” “oh. oops,” she shrugs and gets back to cobwebbing. “peter found it for me.” all the lights are up, so you go to plug them in. betty giggles on your way over.

your living room has an orange glow to it now. dusting your hands off, you admire your work. the moment of admiration ends when you notice how betty is looking at you. “what?” “peter found it for you,” she repeats suggestively. “when he was getting his costume, yeah,” you say like it’s nothing because it is nothing.

“so, what i’m hearing is he wanted to see you in a skirt.” you furrow your eyebrows at her. “what? no, he just-“ she wiggles her own eyebrows at you. you’re going to start sweating if you talk about this any longer. too aware of yourself now, you pull down your skirt and trudge over to the stairs. “i’m gonna go check on mj.”

you’re in the middle of convincing her she looks great and to leave your room when everyone calls your name downstairs.

“what?” you shout back from behind the closed door. “you should get down here.” it’s only peter this time. mj widens her eyes at you, but you’re gone before she can say she isn’t wearing this again.

you make your way down the stairs. the three of them are huddled in front of the door. “is someone here?” you mouth, ned looking off to the side awkwardly. they all move out of the way so you can see who it is. it’s flash. you’re obviously surprised to see him at your house, especially since he’s supposed to be having his own party right now.

“um, what are you doing here?” you try not to sound mean. “didn’t you invite the whole decathlon team? i’m on it.” you’d forgotten about that. peter says he’s only an alternate. flash side steps past you to get inside. you didn’t say he could come in. he heads straight to the chip bowl on your living room coffee table. you’re left shaking your head in pure confusion.

“dude, kick him out,” ned whispers to you. you wave your hand dismissively and walk over. he’s kicking his legs up on the table when you get there. “dope outfit. you look good.” he winks and crunches on a tostito. peter is clenching his jaw, but no one sees. “why are you in my house, flash?” you push the bowl away from him. “oh, yeah. my parents came home from vegas early.”

mj finally gets downstairs, squinting at whatever is going on with you while she walks over to everyone else. “i thought we could combine parties.” flash eyes your friends in a way you don’t like. “all your guests are pretty much here, so don’t worry about space.”

you look back at peter to see what he thinks. he shakes his head no. betty is nodding her head so fast you’re pretty sure she’s going to get whiplash. ned agrees with whatever she thinks, and mj doesn’t care. majority rules. plus, you could use one of flash’s playlists to liven things up. how bad could it really be?

“text everyone my address.”

people are flooding your house in the next fifteen minutes. like, your entire grade might be here. flash hooks his phone up to your speakers and blasts his songs. people grab fistfuls of candy and dance around. you’re running low on soda, but one guy brought extra drinks. alcoholic drinks, which you’re uneasy about. that was a big reason why you wanted to have your own party in the first place.

you don’t want to be a lame host, so you let it slide. a girl is sitting on top of your kitchen counter making out with someone. people are yelling so loud you can’t make out a single conversation. this is all going on and yet somehow, the most surprising thing is that they came in costume. some are more casual, like cat ears and lifeguard hoodies. it still counts.

feeling a little bit lost in your own house, you search for peter. he’s sitting on the top stair just watching what’s going on. you get his attention by throwing a mini packet of sour patch kids at him. he catches it, grinning when he realizes you did that. “i love these.” “good. they were the only ones left.” you take a seat next to him and scratch at the material of his vest for emphasis.

“i can’t believe you said yes to him.” peter opens the sour patch kids. the first one is yellow, so he offers it to you. sharing food with him always works because you each seem to like what the other doesn’t. “neither can i, but i think betty would’ve actually hurt me if i didn’t,” you joke while chewing. he rolls his eyes, but he’s still smiling. “please. she’s too nice.”

you lean your head on peter’s shoulder and grab another gummy. he pokes your arm in protest. “this bag is small. get your own.” you’re nuzzling your cheek against him. “i told you they’re gone.” he’s about to put an arm around you when someone screams downstairs. you quickly sit up.

“i’m gonna go see what the hell that was. i’ll find you later?” peter does his best to hide his disappointment. “yeah, of course. good luck.” you clench your teeth and run down the stairs. this is somehow flash’s fault.

it’s been an hour and a half, and peter is nowhere to be seen. the chaos was just that someone really liked the song that was playing. it didn’t take you long to figure that out. when you went to tell peter, he was gone. you’ve looked everywhere for him since, except the backyard.

a pretty big group of people is out here either playing catch or talking. someone also brought a case of beer outside. you spot mj huddled up by the fence with a bottle. it doesn’t necessarily surprise you. it’s weird to see, either way.

“have you seen peter?” you walk up to her. she uses the bottle to gesture somewhere. he’s in the middle of a conversation with liz. your entire body feels like it’s collapsing into itself. it didn’t cross your mind she would be coming even when the party moved to your house.

she’s nice and all. you don’t have any issues with her. not that she knows about, at least. peter had the biggest crush on her for about a month, then it fizzled out. that’s what he told you. unless, he said that to save face.

you’re speechless. mj figured you would be. she gives you a sympathetic smile and holds out her beer. “yep. drink up.” your instincts tell you to take it, so you do. she heads back inside and leaves you alone with your thoughts. that’s not good for you. the only to way to get rid of them is by chugging the rest of this bottle.

you’ve never had your own drink before, and technically you aren’t now. this is still the most alcohol you’ll ever have in your system. before you can change your mind, you take a generous swig. it’s bitter. you don’t hate it as much as you expected to, though.

your eyes land on liz touching peter’s shoulder. that inspires your next big gulp of beer. you finish off the rest, and it hits you fast. you’re understanding why this is such a popular vice. you don’t feel anything but how tipsy you are. light and floaty. you decide to stumble back into the kitchen and find out what other drinks people brought.

the bright color of your costume catches peter’s attention. he was wondering where you were. excusing himself from liz, he follows you in. you bump into betty on your way to the punch bowl someone filled. she’s holding a red solo cup with the mystery liquid. both of you buzzed, you laugh and grab her arm.

“sorry. s- sorry.” you’re squeezing behind her, her angel wings brushing against your face in the process. you have to weave through everyone to make it to the drink table. peter meets you there when you’re getting a cup. he’s shocked.

“y/n?” smiling lazily, you take a sip. “hey, peter. pete.” the sober voice in your head tells you to stop talking. he probably shouldn’t know you’re drunk. then again, your cup gives it away. “y/n, have you been drinking?” he sounds concerned. everything is funny to you right now. you giggle out a “yes.”

peter doesn’t want to be that person, but you’re not acting right. he reaches for your drink. you pull it away too abruptly, and some of it spills onto the floor. “you... you’re so...“ you start losing your balance. “woah.” peter wraps an arm around your waist to steady you. he takes the drink out of your hand and sets it on the table.

frowning, he throws your arm around his shoulders so he can help you get upstairs. “come on, y/n/n.” you don’t argue this time. you’re at the part of being drunk where it doesn’t feel good anymore. peter holds you close to his side and walks you out of the kitchen. he stops to talk to ned for a second.

“hey, man. y/n’s parents are gonna be home soon. could you get everyone out?” he says into his ear. “why can’t she do it?” peter moves out of the way so he’s not blocking you. ned sees. you’re completely faded. “oh, shit. is she okay?” he whisper yells. “i’m gonna take care of her.” “i’ll tell everyone to go.” peter presses his lips into a tight smile, then he’s taking you up to your room.

you flop down onto your bed face first. peter shuts the door behind you. “you okay?” he chuckles, you nodding with your face smushed into the comforter. he’d think it was cute if you weren’t piss drunk. gently nudging you, he moves you so you’re on your back.

“let’s get you out of this.” “ooh, betty was right. you do like me in a skirt,” you giggle and bat your eyelashes at him. he huffs. “no, i mean you have to put on pajamas.” you’re pouting now. “you don’t like me in a skirt?” after going through your drawers, he comes back over with a big t-shirt and fuzzy pants. “i never said that.”

you grin again and grab them from him. “ha.” “do you need help changing?” he sits at the edge of your bed. you’re still laying down. he’s not sure you can handle getting up. “no. don’t be creepy,” you say completely serious. peter has to remind himself you’re drunk. “you were the one who thought i wanted you naked, but ok.”

making peter close his eyes, you peel the costume off your body. you got pretty sweaty. you kick everything onto the floor and start putting on your pajamas. your head gets stuck in an arm hole by accident, so peter has to fix that. the rest is fine. he’s about to bring you into the bathroom to brush your teeth, but you face plant into his lap. you’re out.

the next morning, you wake up feeling like ass. your breath is hot and tastes disgusting. your head is pounding. you could throw up. you’re not even sure how you ended up in your bed. then, you notice peter sitting at your desk. he must have helped you in.

a vague memory of him tucking you under the covers while you whined comes back to you, along with a few others. one of them is of him and liz. the whole reason you did this to yourself.

“hey.” your voice comes out hoarse. “hi.” peter nods and points to your night table. there’s a fresh glass of water. you drink it all down as fast as humanely possible, a hand on your heart. it doesn’t phase him after what you did last night. you set the empty glass down and pat the spot next to you. peter sits by your side.

he’s still dressed as han solo, but his vest and belt are sprawled out on the floor. the boots are under your desk. he actually stayed all night for you.

“i think i’m hungover.” you rest your head against his arm. his body relaxes. “you didn’t drink that much. mj said she gave you half a beer,” he almost laughs, you groaning. “that means i’m a lightweight.” “for now.” your arm wrapping around his, you look up at him.

“sorry you had to deal with me. am i in trouble?” “nah, your parents don’t know. we cleaned everything up before they got home.” he lightly pats the top of your head with two fingers. you squeeze your eyes shut when he does it. “you did? thank you so much, wow.” peter nods and smiles for a second.

he lays his back against the pillow on his side. “let’s just pretend that never happened.” “you’re good at pretending,” you mumble to yourself. you’re not as quiet as you think because peter hears it. “um, what?” you feel too woozy to come up with a cover. letting out a breath, you take your head and hands off of him.

“i saw you talking with liz.” “she wanted to know if i could lead decathlon practice next week. she’s not gonna be in school,” he says slowly, not getting it. “why?” having to spell it out is making you frustrated. “didn’t you say you don’t like her anymore?” “yeah, i don’t.”

“so, why was she being all... touchy?” the jealousy is clear in your voice. peter shrugs. “that’s how liz is. i still don’t get why it matters.” you ease yourself to sit up and turn to face him. those three words you’ve been meaning to tell him are on the absolute tip of your tongue. they’re about to come out.

then...

“i like you, y/n.”

peter says them for you.

you’re so surprised you nearly vomit for real. or, it could be the possible hangover. almost a minute has gone by when you realize you’ve been sitting there with your mouth hanging open. you swallow your spit. “you... you do?” “a lot. i kept trying to tell you, but there was never a good time.” his voice is softer now.

“i realized after homecoming. i wished i went with you instead of...” he doesn’t have to finish the sentence. you nod, a small smile spreading across your face. peter’s eyes are so hopeful. “i like you, too. a lot.” your gaze trails down to his lips.

“i’d kiss you if my breath didn’t stink.” “i’ll let you owe me one.” he’s fully grinning now, and both of you laugh. they’re the kind of laughs you do because you’re so happy you don’t know what to say.

peter presses his lips to your temple, your eyes fluttering closed. “get some more sleep. i’m gonna ask you out when you wake up,” he mumbles against your hair. you grab his hand that’s resting on the comforter. “can you stay with me?” “of course.”

he lays down next to you. you pull back the covers so he can get under them. your head is resting on his chest, an arm around his torso. both of his hug your waist. you’re instantly comfortable cuddled up in his embrace. you drift off to sleep with a smile.

this feels like such a dream. it’s the exact type of situation you’d make up in your head. but, it’s real. peter is still holding you when you wake up. he’s not going anywhere.

#tom holland #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #peter parker smut #tom holland x reader

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hookedonapirate · 2 years

Text

A Date for the Holidays (and everyday too would be nice)

Summary: Tired of the constant backlash from her family about being single, Emma finds herself striking an arrangement with a roguishly handsome stranger at the mall the day after Christmas. Now she won’t have to be alone for the holidays. Emma and Killian agree to be each other’s dates, no strings attached, no commitment, no pressure. Just two friends getting together to appease her annoying family and get his brother off his back. It’s the perfect setup really...until sticking to the holidays isn’t enough. What happens when they both want more?

Holidate AU

A/N: So I watched the Holidate the other night and couldn’t stop thinking about how much fun it would be to turn this into a CS fic. So here we are. This probably won’t be too long, I’ll be getting back to my wips soon, just needed a break, but probably 4 or 5 chapters or so. Hope you enjoy! Thank you to the ladies on Discord for your encouragement and enabling ;-)

Thank you to the lovely @veryverynotgood for beta reading!

Catch up: Ch 1 // Ch 2 // Ch 3 // Ch 4 // Ch 5 // Ch 6 // Ch 7 // Ch 8 // Ch 9 // Ch 10 // Ch 11

Also available on: AO3 // FF.N

Chapter 9

Halloween

“Stop eating all the chocolate! You’re gonna be sick!”

Emma groans, shoving another mini-sized candy bar into her mouth as Elsa ties the laces of her black leather corset so tightly she’s sure her cousin’s trying to kill her.

“Get ready and suck!” Elsa pulls tight again and turns them toward the bed. Emma reaches out her hands, holding herself up as she bends over the bed, allowing Elsa to trap her in this torture device.

“I am so excited!” Anna says giddily with a grin as she plops down on the bed. “This is my first adult party since the kids!”

“Are you sad Kristoff isn’t coming?” Emma asks curiously.

Anna shrugs. “Yeah, but it’s only one night. He’s taking the kids trick-or-treating.”

“Okay, ready? Suck.” When Emma does what she’s told, Elsa pulls a little too hard on the laces.

“Oh, Jesus!” Emma shoots up, holding her stomach. “When did Halloween go from dressing up like a princess,” she pants and pushes up her breasts higher in the corset, “to dressing up like a whore?” She especially feels slutty considering her cousins’ very modest costumes. Elsa is Queen Victoria and Anna is dressed as her half-sister, Princess Feodora.

“I don’t know, sixth grade?” Elsa guesses.

“What’s a whore?” Daisy asks from where she’s sitting on her aunt and uncle’s bed with her cousin, Arya.

Anna’s mouth falls open, her eyes wide as she tries to explain. “Uh, somebody who gets paid to play with boys.”

Arya perks up. “I wanna be a whore!”

Daisy nods excitedly. “Me too!”

“Okay. Just remember, the house gets fifty percent,” Elsa jokes to her daughter.

Anna claps a hand over her mouth, trying not to burst into laughter as the kids frown at her in confusion.

When Elsa finishes with the corset, Emma sighs in relief and goes over to check out her reflection in the full-length mirror. She’s wearing a bar wench costume, which includes a white, off-the-shoulder top with long, flare sleeves, a choker around her neck and a high-cut bustle skirt, showing off the black fishnet stockings on her legs and knee-high leather boots.

“This is what I get for putting Killian in charge of costumes,” Emma grumbles as she tries to adjust her corset. Her top is very low cut and shows off a little too much cleavage for her liking, so the best she can do is hoist them up to make them look more appealing.

Why did she let Killian talk her into this?

🎃🎃🎃

Fog floats through the room and All the Rage by Allie X blasts from the speakers as Emma and her cousins make their way through the crowd of gyrating bodies all dressed in costumes.

Emma rolls her eyes at her aunt Ruby, who brought Graham as her holidate. She’s dressed as a nurse, and he’s dressed as a doctor. Like seriously, what kind of douchebag dresses as their actual profession for Halloween?

Suspecting where Killian might be, Emma heads toward the bar, and sure enough, he’s already downing a glass of rum with Liam.

Holy hell.

When Killian said he was dressing as Captain Hook, she was expecting breeches, a red jacket, a permed wig and curly mustache. But he's wearing neither of those. His jacket and pants are made of black leather, there’s a hoop in his ear, which looks so fucking hot on him, and he’s wearing a red vest and white dress shirt, exposing a provocative amount of chest hair. He also has a tricorn hat on his head, but it doesn’t have a feather sticking out of it.

He’s the sexiest version of Captain Hook she’s ever seen.

“Ahoy, Captain,” Emma greets, approaching the two brothers, her cousins following behind.

She no longer cringes when she sees Liam since he’d sincerely apologized to her last month, saying he was just looking out for his brother. He admitted he wrongly pointed a finger at her for the Fourth of July fiasco, and she had forgiven him.

Killian turns toward her, his jaw dropping as his eyes scroll up and down her form.

“That’s Captains,” Liam corrects, emphasizing the ‘s’.

Emma arches a brow, taking in his navy-blue uniform and ridiculous bicorn hat. “What are you supposed to be, Cap’n Crunch?”

Liam rolls his eyes and Killian chuckles. “Ha ha, funny lass. I’m a British naval captain.”

“Glad to see your costume fits…” Killian notices thoughtfully, making a show of admiring Emma’s wench costume with a big smirk as he gestures toward her with the fake hook on his hand before finishing his compliment, “perfectly.”

“Yeah, well, try telling that to my spleen,” she groans, adjusting her corset for the millionth time.

“Your discomfort is a cross I’m willing to bear,” he says with a wink and a crooked smirk.

Her cheeks heat, and a smile tugs at her lips before she realizes they’re staring at each other. She shakes herself out of the daze she’s in and introduces her cousins to Killian’s brother. “Liam, this is my cousin, Elsa, and her sister, Anna. This is Killian’s brother, Liam.”

Liam already has his eyes on Elsa as he removes his hat and bows like she’s an actual queen. “Greetings, Your Majesty.” He takes her hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

Elsa blushes and smiles, pressing her free hand to her chest. “You can just call me Elsa.”

“Any queen in particular?” he asks, eyeing the crown on her head.

“Queen Victoria.” She turns toward Anna. “And this is her half-sister, Princess Feodora.”

He tries to kiss Anna’s hand like he did Elsa’s, but she shakes her head and steps back as though he’s trying to kiss her on the lips. “No, thank you. I’m married.” She gently pushes Elsa forward. “But my sister here is very much single,” she makes sure to inform Liam with a big grin.

Elsa turns her head to scold her sister in disapproval before Anna excuses herself and heads through the crowd.

Liam chuckles awkwardly, his cheeks red as his eyes return to Elsa. “It’s nice to meet you, lass.”

“Likewise. You seem nothing like the self-righteous asshole Emma described you as,” Elsa points out deliberately.

Apology clouds his face as he looks at Emma. “Well, she wasn’t wrong. I was very much a dick.”

“But he apologized,” Emma reminds her.

He looks at Elsa again and scratches behind his ear, the same nervous tick Killian has. “So, um, would you care to dance with this self-righteous arse?” he asks nervously, sticking out his hand.

Elsa laughs, slipping her palm in his. “Sure why not?”

After Liam and Elsa walk away, Killian returns his gaze to Emma. “Drink?”

“Immediately.”

🎃🎃🎃

“Great party, Audrey,” Emma compliments when they finally cross paths with the host.

She gives her an Are you seriously kidding me? look. “It’s a complete disaster! Who fills a place with this much dry ice?”

“But it’s fun,” Killian comments, trying to look on the bright side, “And scary and…” he gestures at her shiny gold dress when he’s at a loss for more adjectives to adequately describe the party decorations. “I love your costume.”

“I’m so embarrassed!” Audrey grumbles, looking down at her outfit. “We’re supposed to be Beauty and the Beast.”

Leo comes up behind her, shouting, “Happy Halloween, party people!”

Emma furrows her brows as she scans her brother’s costume. He doesn’t look like any beast she’s ever seen before. He's dressed in black and is wrapped in what appears to be a burrito shell. “What are you supposed to be?”

“Uh, a taco. Duh!” He points between him and Audrey. “Taco Bell, get it?”

Audrey shakes her head in frustration. “No, I’m Belle, not a bell.”

Killian chuckles. “Just look at it this way—you could just pass it off as a funny pun.”

Emma scans the room as she takes a sip of her third Haunted Orchard Cocktail. Unlike her mocktails on the Fourth, there’s nothing virgin about her drink, as it has tequila and hard cider. And either she’s had a little too much to drink or her ex and his girlfriend are heading toward her. She gasps and whips around to glare at her brother. “You invited Neal?!”

“I wasn’t in charge of the guest list,” he grumbles at Audrey.

His fiancé shrugs. “I didn’t invite him. I invited Tamara. We went to high school together. How was I supposed to know she’s dating your ex?”

Emma furrows her brows at Audrey. “Wait, you two went to high school together?”

“Yeah, she was in the same class as me.”

Emma’s face pales. Oh, God. If Audrey’s twenty, that means…Tamara’s even younger than she thought.

Emma wants to crawl into a hole and hide, but before she gets the chance to run away, Neal and Tamara are already in front of her.

“Happy Halloween!” Neal greets, wrapping his arm around Tamara.

“I love the slutty costume!” the woman says with a big grin. She and Neal are dressed as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, and Emma can’t help but notice the very round, very prominent, close-to-bursting belly underneath her green dress.

“Thank you…I like yours too.” Emma gestures toward what she hopes to be a fake pregnant belly as part of her costume. “I mean, that fake belly’s incredible. You look really, really pregnant,” she laughs, trying to shove down the hatred and disgust she feels for her ex.

“Not fake,” Tamara corrects, looking over at Neal.

Emma’s eyes widen in horror, and suddenly, she can’t breathe, the corset seeming to press even tighter around her ribcage.

That bastard got her pregnant?!

“Due in two days.”

“I just couldn’t keep her at home,” Neal says with a chuckle.

Tamara shakes her head and swats his chest. “I already told you, baby, this kid’s not gonna change our lives.”

Anna bursts out laughing from behind Emma, which surprises her because she didn’t know her cousin was standing there. “That’s adorable.”

Tamara smiles skittishly, obviously not understanding what’s so funny. “Thank you.”

“Wow…” Emma’s still trying to process this, her mind spinning. “Pregnant…” She turns to look at her cousin, laughing, even though she’s dying inside. “She’s pregnant!”

Anna nods. “I know. She’s adorable. Wanna get another drink?” she asks, ushering Emma away.

“Congrats,” Emma calls out to the expecting parents as she walks past them, still in complete disbelief. “Congrat-u-lations. I am so happy for you! Wow!”

Anna drags her to the bar so she doesn’t make any more of a fool of herself than she already has.

Emma spins around, throwing her hands up in the air. “She’s fucking pregnant?! How is this even possible?! She’s my brother’s age?!”

Anna orders them some cocktails and hands her one. “Here, drink this.”

Emma accepts, guzzling it down like it’s water and then slamming the empty glass on the bar top.

“You need another drink,” Anna suggests.

Emma shakes her head. “Oh God, I don’t feel so good,” she groans, clutching her stomach. She’s on the verge of hyperventilating, the room is spinning and she feels queasy. “I really don’t feel well. I’ve had about fifty mini-size candy bars, four Haunted Orchards and my ex-boyfriend has impregnated someone fifteen years younger than him!”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Anna says, rubbing her back as Emma grips the bar counter.

Killian comes up behind her and places a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright, love?”

“No! I am not okay!” she snaps, spinning toward him. “This is what I get for letting you trap me in this torture device!” She tugs at her corset again, trying to make it feel less tight as Anna and Killian both eye her in concern.

“Do you want me to take you home?” her cousin asks.

Emma nods, but before Anna can respond, Killian offers, sensing she didn’t actually want to leave yet. “I can take her.”

“I-I can,” she assures as Killian wraps his arm around Emma and leads her away. “I can. It’s just...I mean, if you’re volunteering.”

“It’s fine.”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Emma mumbles, feeling bad for taking him away from the party.

“Holidate rule number three—leave no holidate behind, remember?” Killian calls an Uber, and when they arrive at her place, he climbs out of the car and turns around to help her out. “Come on, love.”

Emma grabs her clutch and literally crawls out, feeling too tipsy and nauseous to stand on her own two feet. “Just leave me here,” she pleads, not wanting Killian to have to take care of her.

“Nope.” Killian shakes his head and kneels down to help Emma up. “We’re gonna go.”

“Please leave me!”

“No need. I’ve carried beer kegs much heavier than you.” Before Emma can even wonder what he means by that, he picks her up and throws her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, carrying Emma inside her apartment building. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

Emma groans, feeling too drunk and miserable to protest any further as Killian carries her to the elevator before finally setting her down on her feet and pressing the button.

Emma braces her back against the wall so she doesn’t fall over. She can’t believe she let that asshole, Neal, affect her this much. She was doing fine until she met his girlfriend in February at the candy store. Tamara was certainly not pregnant back then, and now she’s about to pop out a baby?!

Wait.

February?

“Oh my god!” she cries out when realization washes over her. “It’s Halloween!”

Killian furrows his brows, his voice full of confusion when he raises his hook. “Hence the costumes.”

She counts on her fingers, reciting the months between February and October. Yep, just as she suspected. “They did it on Valentine’s Day!” she screams, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Everyone did it on Valentine’s Day.”

“I didn’t do it on Valentine’s Day!”

“Neither did I,” Killian recalls as the elevator dings and the doors slide open.

“They barely even knew each other when they started procreating!”

“I know, love, he’s a wanker,” Killian says as he helps Emma into the elevator.

She buries her face in her hands. “Oh my God, this is so embarrassing!”

“Trust me, I’ve seen much worse.” he tries to assure her, rubbing her back as Emma presses the button to her floor.

“How could this get worse?!” She can feel the bile rising in her throat as the elevator ascends. At first, she thinks she’s just imagining it because she’s thinking about Neal with Tamara and the age gap between them and how sick it makes her. She’s also had so much chocolate and alcohol, it’s affecting her brain, along with her stomach.

Her eyes widen when she realizes she’s about to vomit. She feels a stab of pain in her stomach, and she claps a hand over her mouth when she starts to gag, trying to force it all down. Suddenly feeling very warm, she tries to pull her top away from her skin to cool down, but then she’s rudely reminded she’s still in this goddamn corset. And she doubts it will give way when she has to puke her guts out.

“Untie me,” she says quietly, her face paling.

Killian stares at her in confusion as she shuffles over, turning her back toward him and trying to reach for the laces of her corset. “What?”

“No questions! Just untie me!”

“Okay…” Killian grabs her waist, pulling her toward him before he reaches for the laces, trying to do as he’s told. Quickly realizing the hook just gets in the way, he hangs it on his belt and tries with two free hands. “What is all this?”

“Hurry!”

“I’m trying, okay? I’m trying.”

Another pain shoots through her stomach, and Emma knows she doesn’t have much time. “You know what, just rip it.” She hops around, trying to tug at the fabric, but it won’t budge. Killian keeps close behind her, trying desperately to untie the laces, but not having any luck. “Just rip it.” She braces against the rail as Killian starts pulling on the corset, trying to tear it off her as she moves her hips toward him. “Rip it. Just fucking rip it off!” she shrieks as the elevator doors slide open, revealing an elderly couple staring at them in horror. But she can certainly understand why. Killian’s standing behind her, trying to pull off her clothes as she’s bent over the elevator rail.

Thankfully, the doors close before the couple can step in.

As soon as the elevator reaches her floor, Emma scrambles out, Killian hot on her heels, working on the laces again.

“You’re locked up like Houdini in this thing!”

“This is all your fault!” Emma cries out as she frantically makes her way down the hall, digging through her purse for her keys.

“Almost got it!” Killian assures after he’s finally able to loosen the laces.

They stumble into the apartment, Emma falling over, Killian still latching on to her from behind, trying to get the pesky corset off. While Emma’s in a very compromising position and he’s trying to take her clothes off—something she’s thought about a hundred times since she met him—this wasn’t exactly how she envisioned this moment.

She finally reaches the bathroom and pushes the door open, vomit rising from her throat.

“I got it!” Killian cheers, holding up the corset in success as she slams the door shut, not wanting him to see her like this.

She bolts for the toilet, but before she can reach it, her stomach is convulsing, vomit is spewing out of her mouth and she’s slipping onto the floor with a scream. “Oh, no!”

“Did you make it?” Killian asks through the door, his voice full of concern.

“Go...away! Go away!”

🎃🎃🎃

Emma has never felt so humiliated or mortified in her entire life as she sits in the back corner of her bathtub, tightly hugging her knees, her hair pulled into a messy bun. To think, she started off the night as a sexy bar wench and now she’s naked, cold and covered in puke, the runny mascara making her look like a raccoon. And to top things off, she had to tell Killian, the most gorgeous man she’s ever met, that she slipped in a puddle of her own vomit. Now he’s holding the showerhead over her back, gently rinsing the vomit off of her.

This night couldn’t possibly get any worse.

“Don’t look at me,” she groans, but not because she doesn’t want him to see her naked. She just doesn’t want him to see her at her very worst. She feels pathetic.

“I’m not looking.”

She glances over her shoulder to see if he’s telling the truth. Sure enough, he’s looking in the other direction with the slightest hint of a smile on his face as he shakes his head, making her smile too, despite the situation.

Once she’s clean and in much more comfortable clothes than that god-awful corset, Emma slips into bed and removes the hair tie, letting her long wavy hair fall loose around her shoulders.

Hearing a knock on her door, she looks up to see Killian slowly walking into the room in the pajama pants she got for Christmas, holding out a mug. “Peppermint tea.”

She sits up against her pillows and accepts the drink as Killian sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Helps with nausea.”

“I have peppermint tea?” She arches a brow as she stares into the hot liquid and takes a sip.

“Sort of. It’s just crushed Altoids in boiling water.”

“Hmm.” It’s not bad, actually. She sets the drink on her nightstand and turns toward him again. “So, um...I’m guessing I’ll be an anecdote you tell at parties now? The woman who…” She sighs, her voice quivering and eyes watering with tears. “The woman who…” She tries once again but can’t get the words out.

“The woman who slipped on her own vomit on Halloween?” Killian finishes with a small smile.

“Oh God,” Emma whimpers, pulling the comforter over her head and turning to her side to hide her tears as they fall down her cheeks.

She feels the bed dip a little when Killian climbs in next to her.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna tell anyone, okay?”

She pokes her head out. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he says sincerely.

She turns around to her other side to face him and wipes her tears. “Thank you,” she whispers, looking up at him.

He flashes a smile as a comfortable silence settles over them. Emma gazes up at him as he stares at the ceiling, sighing. He looks so handsome, his dress shirt still revealing an ample amount of chest hair she wants to run her fingers through. But instead, she closes her eyes and sniffles, wanting to forget this day ever happened, except for the part when she falls asleep next to Killian with his comforting scent wafting around her.

When she wakes the next morning to the sound of birds chirping and dogs barking, the first thing she sees is Killian’s face, which is only an inch away from hers. She blinks the sleepiness from her eyes and turns her head, noticing his hand on her shoulder. When her eyes return to his handsome face, he’s opening his eyes and quickly removing his arm with a quiet apology.

They share a laugh, their eyes locked on one another as the side of her head sinks into the pillow again. Suddenly, all the air is sucked from her lungs, and she can’t breathe as she stares into Killian’s deep blue eyes that seem to set her entire body on fire. She can’t imagine she looks even close to decent; it’s nothing like those movies where the woman wakes up, looking like she's just stepped out of a page of Vogue magazine, with her makeup all perfect and not a hint of sleep on her face. But Killian doesn’t seem to mind her appearance; in fact, he seems to be just as captivated by her as she is by him.

He leans forward to kiss her, but Emma pulls back, covering her mouth with the comforter.

“I have morning breath,” she points out.

He chuckles. “I don’t care, love.”

She laughs when she remembers him saying the same thing after she went down on him and he wanted to kiss her.

He reaches out and removes the blanket from over her mouth, his words melting away her nerves as he closes the distance between them.

As she moves in to meet him halfway, she’s glad she brushed her teeth before she went to bed last night.

Killian cups her cheek in his hand as she closes her eyes and moves her lips against his, allowing herself to give in to him.

His lips are even softer than she remembers, and she cards her hand through his disheveled hair, wanting so much more of him. This kiss is different from any other kiss they’ve had. Lust and a need to be close to someone fueled their previous kisses. But this one... this is so much more than that. There are feelings involved—real, actual feelings. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and she hopes he can’t hear it, but she wouldn’t be surprised if he could. Emma parts her lips, her searching tongue sweeping inside his mouth to find his, pulling a groan from his throat at the connection that sends a shiver down her spine.

When she wraps a leg around his hip, he pulls her flush against him, letting her feel how incredibly hard he is. She moans as he rolls Emma onto her back and settles between her legs. She grinds against him, eliciting a low growl from his throat as he releases her lips to leave a scorching hot trail of kisses and nips down her neck.

Killian pulls away just long enough to tug his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. Emma bites her bottom lip as she admires a shirtless Killian with a raging hunger in his deep pools of blue. She sifts her fingers through his chest hair as he leans in to capture her lips again, his fur even softer than she imagined. Her hands glide up his firm chest and broad shoulders, her arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer. He rocks his hips against her, his erection grinding her center through their pants. He feels so good like this, and she can’t wait to have him inside of her. He pulls back once more, helping Emma remove her pants, and he takes her panties with them, throwing the obtrusive clothing to the floor.

Killian takes her foot in his hand and presses a soft kiss to her ankle, his gaze sweeping up her legs and finding her aching core, which is already soaking wet.

“Fucking hell.” His voice is husky and low, his eyes never leaving her pussy. He makes a trail of soft kisses up her leg, and she wants to grab him and have him inside her, but he has different plans.

He presses a soft, wet kiss to her nub, his hot breath warming her skin. Emma whines as Killian parts her thighs and settles between her legs, her heart slamming as he licks up her slit.

“Holy fuck.” She runs one hand through his hair and grabs the sheet with her other one as he eats into her, his tongue soft and warm and talented on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

When she moves her hips, riding his face, she’s rewarded with a rough growl and a speed that has her already panting. “Killian…”

Her fingers tighten around his hair and the bedsheet as he slips his finger inside her and tongues her harder, nibbling softly and sucking on her clit. Everything he’s doing to her is making her head spin as she rests her legs over his shoulders. She peers down at him, and her eyes connect with his. The intensity of his stare as he feasts on her like she’s his last meal takes her breath away.

She didn’t have many partners who could make her cum with their tongue, but Killian has her on the edge after a matter of minutes. She moans loudly as he adds another finger, and her walls clamp around his digits.

“Killian, fuck!” She explodes in his mouth, her body shuddering as a powerful orgasm rips through her. He tries to hold on to her a little longer, but she pushes him away, unable to take anymore.

So he removes his fingers and slips them into his mouth, groaning and telling her how good she tastes.

She’s still trying to recover when his wet lips make their way up her body—her nub, her waist, her stomach. He pushes up her shirt and kisses the valley of her breasts before kissing her lips. She moans when she tastes the tang on his tongue. It makes her want him even more.

Reaching between them, she tugs at the waistband of his pants, and Killian pushes them off until his dick springs free. The mere sight of his thick, aching cock prompts her legs to fall open for him, her breathing still ragged from her orgasm as she waits in anticipation, her heart thudding in her chest.

She crooks her finger, silently calling him over, and he eagerly complies, crushing her lips with his. As soon as she feels his warm cock sliding through her folds, she moans in his mouth and knows if she doesn’t have him soon, she might combust. She snakes her legs around his back and winds her arms around his neck as Killian effortlessly flips them over so she’s on top. She’s straddling his lap as they both rise together, him in a sitting position as he presses soft kisses over her chest. She whimpers in his mouth when she feels his hard dick at her folds and she moves her hips, seeking more friction.

Killian grabs her frame, breaking the kiss to whisper against her lips, his voice completely shattered, “Condoms?”

Emma nods and reaches for her nightstand drawer, pulling out one of the condoms she’s had for far too long. Once she rolls the rubber down his length, she raises her hips, bringing the tip of his cock to her entrance and sinking down, moaning at the delicious feeling of being filled.

He groans and buries his face in her neck, holding her tight as she rolls her hips, her hands roaming his back. Killian tugs at her shirt, and she lifts her arms so he can pull it off of her. Once it’s gone, he captures a soft nipple and slowly sucks each one until they’re both stiff peaks in his warm, inviting mouth.

“Oh God…” She arches her back, running her fingers through his thick, gorgeous locks of hair as he laps at her breasts with his tongue and nibbles and sucks to his heart’s content.

“Fuck, you’re so bloody gorgeous,” he groans, burying his face in her breasts, breathing in her scent, his lips worshipping her like she’s a goddess.

She’s never felt so cherished before…so loved, like nothing else in his world exists.

Only her.

He wraps his arms around her frame, aiding her movements as she rides his cock, their bodies writhing impossibly close in each other’s arms.

Having sex with this man, the same man who spilled his green juice all over her at the mall, is so surreal. She’s known him for ten months and he’s been there for every holiday as her fake boyfriend, her date and also as a friend. And now they’re making love in the middle of her bed, their sounds of pleasure echoing off the walls.

Killian rolls them over so Emma’s head is lying against the pillows as he rams into her, lifting her leg and holding it in place.

She kisses his neck and shoulder, his thrusts becoming deeper, harder and faster.

“You feel so good, love,” he groans in a raspy voice as she rolls her hips up to meet his.

“You do too,” she whispers in his ear, digging her nails into his arms and back as if he’ll take her to Heaven. He just might.

Her eyes roll back when he rubs her clit in addition to his thrusts. He kisses her hungrily as she feels another climax building.

“Killian, I’m about to—” Her walls clench around his cock as another wave of euphoric bliss crashes over her, causing Killian to jerk his hips fast and hard, chasing his own orgasm with a drawn-out groan.

“Emma…” He explodes inside the condom, burying his face in her neck, breathing hoarsely into her hair as his movements slow.

When he pulls out, he falls onto the bed next to her, the two of them lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling, covered in a sheen of sweat.

“Wow...” he manages after a moment, his voice raspy. “That was…”

“Yeah...” Her heart is slamming against her ribcage as she tries to wrap her head around what just happened. She didn’t know sex could even be this good. Her legs are shaking, the room is spinning and both of them are panting, trying to catch their breaths.

After Killian forces himself out of bed to dispose of the condom and clean both of them up, he rejoins her in the bed, pulling the blankets over them and holding her close as she rests her head on his chest.

He kisses the top of her head, and a comfortable silence fills the room as she tries to decipher what this means. Do they go back to being friends or holidates or whatever they were before, or do they become something more? She has no idea. She knows she can trust him to not break her heart.

She imagines what it would be like to fill his bathroom with all her girly crap, have him find her bobby pins in odd places when she’s not there and share a panini maker with him, along with a bedroom, and call his place home. She imagines what it would be like for him to be so completely in love with her, he can’t help but be cheesy and drop a knee at midnight on New Year and she imagines actually having babies with him and finally making her mother a grandma. She imagines turning this holidate thing into something more permanent because she thinks she’s falling for him and can’t imagine what it would be like to spend a holiday without him.

Fuck.

Is she actually falling for him?

“Do you want some coffee?” she asks, shoving down her feelings for him.

“Sure, love.” He caresses her cheek, a small smile playing along his lips.

She wishes she knew what he’s thinking. Does he feel the same way about her that she does about him? “Unless you’d rather go. I mean…I—if you want…I…don’t feel obligated to stay.”

He sits up, looking down at her in confusion. “You want me to leave?”

“No,” she replies quickly, sitting up and securing the blanket around herself. “No, I just…” She bites her bottom lip. “I just mean, Halloween’s over, right? So I’d understand if you wanted to leave.”

Killian cups her cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing over her skin. “Well, I don’t wanna leave.”

Emma gulps, unable to breathe under the intensity of his gaze. “Okay.” She laughs nervously, trying to ease the tension in the room. “I’ll just get that coffee now. Be right back.” She climbs out of bed, grabbing her robe from the floor and tugging it around herself as she leaves the room.

Once the coffee is done brewing, Emma pours his into a mug and adds cream to hers before bringing the mugs to the bedroom. He sits up again, leaning against the headboard as he accepts with an appreciative smile. They sip their beverages in a rather awkward silence. Suddenly, such an easy friendship has shifted into something else, and neither of them knows how to act or what to say to each other.

An incessant pounding on her front door pulls Emma from her thoughts, and she shares a look with Killian, not knowing who could be here. She sets her coffee on the nightstand and gets out of bed, leaving the room.

The knocking doesn’t subside until she finally opens the door, revealing a very frantic Elsa.

“I kissed the navy captain!” She storms into the apartment, pulling off her jacket and purse, setting them on the couch.

“What?”

“The navy captain!” Elsa repeats, looking like she’s on the verge of hyperventilating. “I kissed him! We were standing in line at the party last night after we danced, waiting for the restrooms and then suddenly it happened!” She takes a deep breath. “We kissed!”

Emma lifts a brow, not knowing what the issue is. “And that’s a bad thing?”

Elsa paces the room, toying with her fingers. “Well no, he’s handsome and single and rather charming when he’s not being a self-righteous asshole, but...”

“So, what’s the problem?”

Elsa stops in her tracks and shrugs. “The problem is I haven’t kissed anyone since…” She pauses, but doesn’t really have to finish her sentence for Emma to know where she’s going with this.

Emma takes her cousin’s hands in hers, looking her dead in the eyes. “Do you like Liam?”

“No…yes…I mean, I don’t know. I barely know him.” She pulls away, throws herself onto the couch and buries her face in a pillow. “It’s been years since I’ve dated and yet I almost had sex with the naval captain in the restroom!”

“Wait, you almost had sex with him?” Emma runs a hand through her disheveled hair and hears boots clunking across the floor. When she looks toward the noise, she sees Killian entering the room, now fully clothed in his leather pants and the rest of his costume from last night, carrying his hat in his hand, a small smirk tugging at his lips. He obviously heard their conversation. “Good morning, Elsa.”

She freezes and sits up, forcing a smile on her face as she turns to face Killian. “Hi. I was just…telling Emma about this dream I had last night.”

“Right,” Killian says with a wink before gesturing to the door with his pirate hat. “I was just leaving.”

Just before he reaches for the knob, Elsa throws herself off the couch, glancing between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Emma insists with a shake of her head.

At the same time, Killian answers with a “Yes.”

“We were just having coffee,” Emma assures her cousin, crossing her arms.

“Well, maybe I should come back after you’ve had...coffee.”

Killian waves off her suggestion, but Emma can tell by the look on his face, he doesn’t actually want to leave. “You should stay, and I’ll go. You seem really upset about your…dream.” He meets Emma’s eyes. “Okay?”

Emma stays silent, only holding his gaze for a few seconds before looking away. She feels torn because she doesn’t want Killian to leave, but she also wants to be here for Elsa. Kissing someone and almost having sex with him since her husband passed away is a huge step for Elsa.

Killian waves before pulling the door open. “Bye, ladies.”

Emma waves with a cheerful smile, trying to hide the disappointment in her gut as he heads out. “See you at Thanksgiving!”

The look on Killian’s face—the devastation mixed with disappointment and hurt written all over his expression—makes Emma’s heart clench. And she desperately wants to take back her words. But it’s too late, because Killian is already shutting the door behind him.

“Thanksgiving?” Elsa furrows her brows.

Emma squeezes her eyes shut, realizing her mistake. Elsa doesn’t know he was just her holidate. She thinks they were actually dating. Emma heads to the kitchen, knowing they have a lot to discuss. “Want some coffee?”

#cs ff #captain swan #holidate au

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jiminniethemarshmallow · 3 years

Text

Last Christmas (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Angst, smut, fluff

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: mentions of past bad relationships, oral (f receiving), fairly vanilla sex

(A/N): I am aware this is a common title 🙄 I’m very insecure about my angst writing skills and my golly gosh I was not happy with this at first. So I edited it several times and now it’s... acceptable. Hope y’all enjoy! (Inspired by me listening the Last Christmas by Wham! 20,000 times)

“Crowded room, friends with tired eyes/

I’m hiding from you and your soul of ice”

-Last Christmas by Wham!

Holiday parties can be one of two things. They could either be the most exciting, eventful get together of the year, filled with laughter and happenings that will be talked about all the way until the next party. Or they can be a dreadfully stressful evening of avoiding that One Person and stuffing your face full of cookies and eggnog— trying to figure out when’s an appropriate time to leave without being rude because you only really came to show your face for the person that invited you. Last year’s party was the happier option for Jimin, one he’ll never forget; but unfortunately, this year has become the latter situation where his choices from the previous party have come to bite him in the ass.

He stands somewhere in the corner, out of sight and avoiding the crowd as everyone mingles merrily over the festive music playing in the background. All night has been like this, terribly boring as he watches his friends joke around and have fun. A few times he’s gone over to the group when he felt it was safe to do so, trying to appear as normal and relaxed as possible as Seokjin scolded him for being a wallflower. He didn’t even want to come, he reminds them, he would have been happy to stay home and mope all night instead of being subjected to this torture.

‘But you have to come, this party is tradition!” Hoseok whined when Jimin first told them this 2 weeks ago. The others had similar complaints.

‘Yeah, it’ll ruin the whole night if you don’t show.’ Jungkook’s pout was pretty convincing, part of the reason why Jimin caved. When he finally agreed, Taehyung had thrown an arm over his shoulders with that carefree grin of his.

‘Don’t let her keep you from having fun! Show up and show off how good of a time you’re having. She doesn’t control your life and you need to start acting like it.’

But Taehyung was completely wrong about that because you had an unimaginable amount of control over him even after so much time. His eyes were wide and paranoid from the moment he walked through the doors, hoping that you wouldn’t see him or try to approach— hoping that he wouldn’t see you and fall apart. And even after initially locating you on the other side of the room chatting to someone else, Jimin couldn’t freely move about the room without keeping his eyes on you to maintain a safe distance. He wouldn’t allow himself to become too distracted in fear of losing sight of you and having an awkward encounter, so he barely spoke to his friends and kept a solo cup of punch as his only companion. Even if he hadn’t come, if he had stayed in his home like he wanted, you would probably still have power over him. He’d probably catch himself wondering if you decided to show up or if you were just as nervous to see him as he was. Would likely daydream about what creative outfit you’d chosen to dress yourself in because he’s been told you usually go all out for parties like these. Maybe he’d scroll through the messages he still hasn’t deleted from his phone, remembering, regretting, reliving both the good and the bad of everything that happened between you two in the course of the past year. Thinking about the events that led him to this, all starting at last year’s party.

*** *** *** ***

One Year Ago

*** *** *** ***

“Who is she?” Jimin stares at you over the lip of his cup, sipping slowly on his drink. Seokjin glances at where his friend is looking, lounging drunkenly on the sofa cushions and loudly singing the wrong words to the Christmas music blasting through the speakers.

“Why? You have a crush on her or something?” He smirks, chuckling at the scandalized expression that Jimin turns to him with.

“A crush? I’m not in the 5th grade, hyung,” He rolls his eyes. “I’m just asking because I’ve never seen her around before...” Jimin finishes quietly, mumbling into his cup as he takes another sip. But before he can swallow fully, Jin is calling you over with a wave of his hand.

You turn your head at the sound of his voice and Jimin swears his heart stops beating in his chest as a bright smile spreads on your lips at the sight of your friend. You walk over with confidence and he has no choice but to take in your body, curves and lines caressed by the tightest onesie he’s ever seen. You’ve come to the party dressed as Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer, your deer onesie zipped low enough for the tops of your cleavage to be revealed and your makeup colored flawlessly to match, freckles spotted along your cheeks and red painted at the tip of your nose. It shouldn’t be sexy, but you could probably make a trash bag look like lingerie with your looks. Jimin shifts in his seat when you come to stand in front of the two men, popping your hip as you look down at them.

“Yes, Seokjin?” You only spare a glance at Jimin before your eyes return to Jin, but his linger on you shamelessly.

“There’s someone who wants to meet you,” He sits up into a proper sitting position, pointing to the man beside him. “(Y/n), this is Park Jimin. Jimin, this is (Y/n). You’re welcome.” Abruptly, he stands and walks away, heading over to bother Jungkook in another part of the large room.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin.” You extend your hand toward him and he fumbles with his cup between his hands at the gesture, eventually composing himself to stand and give you a proper handshake. Since he was seated on the couch and you had come to stand directly in front of him, you now stand a bit too close to each other, his body trapped between yours and the couch. But you don’t retreat, not even moving back a step as you inspect him from head to toe.

The two of you spent more than 2 whole hours talking, relentlessly flirting with each other as you discovered that you shared many things in common. You laughed at his jokes and gave him your full attention the entire night, your hand always finding it’s way onto his arm or knee as you pressed closer to him on the couch cushions as the night went on. It was obvious that you were very attracted to him, but Jimin didn’t want to be too forward and make you uncomfortable so he kept his hands to himself until you finally cracked and pulled his hand onto your upper thigh.

Looking into your eyes, he could clearly see the lust swirling in your irises, so it wasn’t a surprise when you pulled him upstairs into a bathroom, locking the door behind you and kissing him up against it. Nor was it surprising when you allowed him to lift you onto the countertop of the sink and bury his face between your thighs, tasting you until you had to clap a hand over your mouth to suppress your moans. What did surprise Jimin, however, was how amazing it felt to be inside you, his knees feeling weak as he pounded you into the hard surface and bit back the needy groans bubbling in his throat. You almost killed him when you dropped to your knees and took his tip into your mouth, sucking and swallowing every drop of his release as he gasped in elation. It took him several minutes to collect himself after the ordeal, but you sat on the counter and talked to him as you both calmed down and quickly agreed that this should become a regular thing.

It was about 5 months in that Jimin realized that he had serious feelings for you. The realization came when he couldn’t stop thinking about you— even in a non-sexual context— and started thinking about what it would be like if you were his. And when he finally gathered the courage to ask you out on a date, his heart nearly exploded when you said ‘yes’.

Yet his joy was short lived because his phone rang on the day of your date and you explained to him that you had been “thinking about some things” after a conversation with Jin. You had been talking about the newest episode of a tv show with him when he mentioned how awkward it would be if 2 of his friends ever started dating. He said he would hate to be a middle man between them, especially in an argument or breakup, and how hanging out with them would never be the same, how it would be weird to spend time with them separately but that he would be a third wheel if they were together. Of course, Jin didn’t know that you and Jimin were sleeping together, even if he was the one who introduced you, but his comment got you thinking and now you weren’t sure if you wanted to go out with him anymore. You told him that you needed time to think about it more deeply, but you are a logical person who never makes decisions without analyzing every outcome, so Jimin knew that it would be a long time before he got an answer from you. In the meantime, you suggested, you could continue to be friends because you had grown so used to his company, but things were awkward, and eventually communication dropped between you and you fell out of touch for the rest of the year.

A few times Jimin had wanted to text you. Ask if you still thought about him or if you ever intended to give him an answer. Maybe just check to see if you were doing well since he does still care about you. He still thinks about you almost everyday. Still wets his pillow with tears on hard nights. But his pride keeps him from reaching out, always afraid of your rejection.

*** *** ***

A sharp tap on the shoulder startles Jimin out of his thoughts and he almost drops the plate of cookies in his hands. Turning, his face pales as he is met with your inquisitive stare, beautiful face betraying little emotion. Before he can stop himself his eyes are scanning down your body, the ugly Christmas sweater dress you’ve elected to wear looking so cute on you, and he’s certain you’re the only person who could pull that off.

“Are you avoiding me? I haven’t seen you all night.” Blunt as ever, you stare directly into his soul as he squirms, looking down at the snack table in front of him and pretending to contemplate which goodies to pick up.

“No, I’ve been around.” He answers coyly.

“Not around your friends.” Your eyes shift behind him to the cackling group of men standing several feet away. This simple statement makes his heart jump. Had you been looking for him? Were you actually eager to see him tonight despite everything that’s happened? He tries to squash the tiny bud of hope in his chest, clearing his throat when you continue to stare at him.

“Like I said, I’ve been around. I’m not avoiding you.” This comes out quietly, he’s never been good at lying. But you make a sound of agreement and nod, not pressing him about it further. He watches from the corner of his eye as you turn your attention to the snack table now, looking as though you were going to pick something up, but when you realize that neither of you are moving and waiting for the other, you turn your head to him again.

“Do you- can we talk?” You ask abruptly and his eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He doesn’t know how to respond to this. Would it really be a good idea for him to talk to you? He’s tried so hard over these past months to extinguish the flame he felt for you, to lock away those feelings so he doesn’t get hurt anymore than he already has, but looking at you now— standing so close to him that he can smell the scent of your holiday themed body spray— has his heart working double time. One look into your eyes and he’s ready to melt into a puddle on the floor. He’s not sure how he’ll react if you actually got him alone.

Even still, he agrees.

Of course it’s after several seconds of silence and wide-eyed staring, but the smile you give eases his awkwardness once he finally gets the words out. It’s with lead limbs that he follows you through the crowd, weaving through friends and acquaintances until the noise of the room becomes muffled and you are the only person he can see. This is different, though. Flashes of last year keep coming back to him, the parallels making his head spin, but the air is different. Instead of sexual tension between you two it’s just regular tension. The air is tight in his lungs, but this time it’s not from excitement— it’s nervousness. The hallway you guide him to is private and out of sight, but this time you’re alone for an entirely different reason. He can sense the tension in your body even through the zip-tight facade you have on display.

When you come to a stop and face him, both of you are biting your lips, and it looks as if you’re trying to find the best way to put your words. You both stand with your backs to the opposite walls of the hall, the distance between you feeling necessary in order to think properly.

“How have you been?” You start quietly, lips pressed tightly together as though forcing yourself not to say the wrong things. “I’ve wanted to call you, text you, do anything to show that I still acknowledge your existence on this planet- but I’m a coward so I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So how are you?”

Again, Jimin finds himself not knowing how to answer. He could say he’s fine, but what good would that do in this situation? Taking a deep breath, he speaks.

“Honestly, it’s been hard, (Y/n). I know we never dated, I’m just the idiot that caught feelings in a strictly sexual arrangement, but it still hurts. You left me hanging.”

“You’re not an idiot.” You say quietly and he gives you a blank look before returning his gaze to the floor.

“... How have you been?” The words sound forced even on his own ears, but he can’t help but ask. He relates so deeply to what you said about not having the guts to reach out first. So many times he’s pulled up your contact, typed something out that resembles accepting the apology you never gave, but then he’d remind himself that if you wanted to talk to him you would, but you haven’t so you don’t.

“Miserable. I keep thinking about how it was when we were ‘together’ and how stupidly I acted. We were good together. I opened up to you more than I have to 99% of the people I know, and you did the same to me. I loved being with you— it wasn’t just about the sex— and I knew you felt the same way, but I froze up at the possibility of being your girlfriend. So I kept replaying everything that happened between us from the first day to the last, trying to make sense of it all and it was exhausting. A year feels like so long, but at the same time it feels like no time has passed at all.”

You were right about that. Standing in front of you now, it seems like he just saw you yesterday. He’s reminded of the last time he saw you in person, your head on his lap as he asked you out to dinner, beaming up at him as you spoke the magic words to him. “I did feel the same way. Truthfully, I liked you after our first night together and things just got better and better from there. I had so much hope. You seemed so happy with me, which made it hurt so much worse when you turned me down.” His eyes never leave the ground as he speaks.

He doesn’t see how your eyebrows crease. “I was happy! I was the happiest I’ve been in a long time when I was with you, but-“ You trail off with a shake of your head, biting your lip when you can’t think of the right words. “Jimin, I’m so sorry I hurt you. It really is all my fault.”

“But what? Would dating me really make that much of a difference?” You were basically a couple already, he doesn’t see what the problem could have been. He refuses to believe that you simply didn’t like him enough. Yet, a cold chill climbs up his limbs at the thought.

“No.” His eyes connect with yours and it’s your turn to look away.

“Then why did-“ He doesn’t even need to finish his question before you’re shaking your head.

“Because I was scared. Like I said, I’m a coward.” Jimin hates when you put yourself down like that. Hates to see you look so guilty even though he knows you probably should.

There’s a long pause.

“Then were you ever going to give me an answer?” Quietly, the words slip past his lips before he can even think about them. They float over to you and dance around your head as if taunting you. If Jin was truly the obstacle of your relationship, you both could have just asked him. No, Jimin isn’t asking you if you were willing to risk Jin’s comfort to be with him. He was asking you if you shared his feelings. If you wanted to be with him. And the answer isn’t as straightforward as he would have liked.

“I typed out an answer to you so many times, but I couldn’t send it. I’m sorry I waited so long to talk to you, but the more I looked at my words the more uncertain I got and eventually I felt like you wouldn’t want to hear from me at all. I really am sorry, Jimin.”

Finding his eyes again, you see Jimin stiffen. He looks tired almost, as if exhausted by his own worries and thoughts, and you sag when you notice this.

“What would you have said?” His words come louder than his previous ones, though they seem much more fragile. He blinks at you, watching your chest heave for breath at the question. Dread fills his stomach like a heavy stone in his gut.

“I like you a lot, Jimin, I do. But-“

Without a second thought, he spins on his heel and walks back toward the party, leaving you stunned with a gaping mouth. His heart twists painfully as he paces away from you, weaving his way through the crowd and toward the door. It’s one thing to worry and think the worst, but Jimin has been clinging onto that one shred of hope, and hearing you confirm his fears out loud would be the worst heartbreak. Your rejection would sicken him and he had no intention of crying in front of you or at a holiday party filled with his friends, so he made the split decision to leave.

He should have never come. He would’ve happily stayed in blissful ignorance for another year instead of having to experience this. This pain is the worst.

He can tell you’ve started to follow behind him but he doesn’t care. Swooping past the pile of coats on one of the couches and picking his from the top, slinging it across his body as he pushes open the door. The cold winter air bites at his nose as he pushes on toward his car, sniffling from both the weather and the emotions stuck in his throat. Soon, he hears your footsteps behind him, heeled boots clicking on the frozen pavement as you scurry after him. He doesn’t even look back.

“Jimin, wait-“ How childish of him to run off like this, you must be thinking, and he listens to your hurried steps with a frown as he imagines the pout on your lips and distress in your eyes. “I- Ah!”

Your dramatic gasp and the sound of your body hitting the concrete is enough to stop him. And his body reacts on instinct.

Whipping around he sees you wincing on the cold ground, cradling your ankle with one hand, and suddenly he’s rushing back over to you. You move to stand, attempting a tentative step forward, and Jimin reaches you just in time as you collapse again and fall forward into his arms.

“Jimin, that’s not what I meant-“

“Did you hurt your ankle?” He cuts you off, focused solely on the foot you hold limply above the ground.

“I-“ Noticing that he won’t meet your eyes, you relent, cheeks burning. “Y-Yeah.” The sidewalk is cracked and uneven where you stand, your heels likely stepping right into the crack and causing your twisted ankle. He clicks his tongue.

Any logical person might have taken you back into the party where the host, your friend, would surely be able to help. But instead he scoops you up into his arms princess style and continues down the path toward his car. You say nothing, simply looking at his side profile as he walks. Jimin refuses to look at you even with his arms wrapped around your body, feeling a distinct warmth not only from your body pressed to his, but also from your unyielding gaze. It’s almost as if you are studying every inch of his face, awed by the sight as though you missed it. As if you missed him. His face heats uncomfortably but he ignores it, keeping his eyes focused straight ahead until you reach his vehicle.

Opening the back door, he sets you inside, well aware of your momentary surprise when he slides in next to you and shuts the door. Holding out his hand, he waits for you to get the message, and slowly you raise your leg up until your ankle rests in his lap. The silence is tense. The enclosed space is only slightly warmer than the whipping wind and bitter cold outside, but currently neither of you are sure which you would prefer more. He removes your boot with some difficulty but takes care not to hurt you, reaching down to slip off the other and note the difference in size. Your ankle has begun swelling a bit, though the damage is minimal likely because of the cold. Your mouth opens with unspoken words, he can see this from his peripheral, but you end up closing it again without a sound.

The leather of his seats crinkle when you shift and the noise feels far too loud. His car smells of the air freshener he’s placed somewhere, a woody and spicy scent that reminds you of cuddles by a warm fireplace— the smell calming you somewhat as you allow him to continue his examination. As gently as he can, Jimin pokes at your ankle around the swollen area, pressing one finger over a spot that makes you hiss, and finally his eyes snap up to yours.

“What are you doing?” His eyes flicker away from you again at the question.

“I’m checking your ankle, it seems a little swollen-“

“No- what are you doing? Why did you walk away from me? Why did you bring me to your car?”

If he had an answer for you, surely he would give it, but he’s trying to figure all of those things out himself. What was his goal? Did he subconsciously want to talk to you somewhere away from the party, in a place where he was comfortable, that he could control? He thought he didn’t want to hear what you had to say, but here you are, alone with him again.

“I don’t know.” He answers lamely. “Did you walk here? I know you don’t live far— I can give you a ride home if you want.”

“I don’t want a ride home, I want you to listen to me!” At the raise of your voice everything stops. It even seems like the wind outside has paused. You weren’t angry, you were tired of him ignoring you when he hadn’t even given you the chance to explain yourself. You bring your voice back down when he drops his hands. “Could you listen to me? Please.”

“... Okay.” Like a child, he sits stiffly with his hands folded and fidgeting, body half turned toward you, but you take that as sign enough to start.

“You asked me what I would have said to you in my message. You didn’t let me finish.” He swallows at your irritated tone, but it softens when you take a deep breath. “I was saying that I really do like you Jimin, but I just didn’t realize how much I liked you until I had already ruined things. I would have said that I’d love to date you, that hearing you ask me out was the happiest moment I’ve had in a long time— but I kept doubting myself. I’m so afraid that I’ll disappoint you. That we’ll start dating and just when I’m finally happy you’ll realize I’m not everything you thought I was and leave me. I’ve had some really bad relationships in the past and I felt like they’d come back to haunt me and you’d realize how damaged I am and get fed up because I’m not sensitive enough or too paranoid or too... broken.”

“(Y/n),” Seeing you so insecure like this hurts his heart. His hand returns to your leg. “I already know about your past relationships and trauma. You told me about it all and I still asked you out after I knew. I would never think that way about you.”

“I know you wouldn’t, that’s one of the reasons I fell so hard for you. That’s why it’s called an irrational fear. Even though I knew this, I still panicked when you asked me out and all of those thoughts came flooding in. And when Jin made the comment about his friends dating... I guess I was looking for an out. You did absolutely nothing wrong, but I pushed you away because I couldn’t handle the thought that you would want me, of all people.” You mumble your last sentence, but he hears you loud and clear. “I’m sorry, I do some pretty stupid things when I’m in love.”

When you’re in love?

Jimin doesn’t say anything for a long while, shocked into silence by your last statement. It’s a lot to take in, he’s just gone from believing you were about to rip his heart out and reject him, to hearing you say that you’re in love with him.

“So... what does this mean for us?” He hears himself ask, not conscious of his mouth moving to produce the words.

“I-If the offer still stands, I’d really like to date you. That is, if I didn’t already screw everything up and you still have feelings for me.” Your eyes looks so innocent when you look at him. You are usually fairly stoic, eyes betraying little emotion except for when you’re extremely happy or flirting— this is one of the few times he’s gotten to see this side of you. Being vulnerable is something you struggle with, it’s rare for you to be in this type of position where someone else holds your fate, your heart, in their hands.

He can’t hold back the small smile that makes its way onto his face, meeting your eyes without any apprehension this time. “You didn’t screw anything up, (Y/n).” He doesn’t say anything more after you return his smile, he simply exits the car and rounds the front to the drivers seat. The air shifts and it’s no longer as suffocatingly tense as it was moments prior, much to your relief.

The ride to his home is quiet, you don’t dare speak or look out the window for the entirety of the trip because you’re so focused on the back of his seat and the glimpse of his face you can catch whenever he shifts. He’s fairly certain you’re trying to figure out what exactly is running through his mind right now— and so is he, honestly— but you won’t ask him yet. He hasn’t really given you a proper response, you can only hope that his comment meant that he holds no ill feelings toward you and would also like the chance to date you, but you hate assuming. Your pride has your questions caught in your throat, though.

You seem a bit startled when he parks in front of his building. He answers your curious gaze with the excuse that he can better take care of your injury here and insists that you stay the night since it’s already so late. Cheeks burning, Jimin tries to ignore the small chuckle you let out when he stammers, his arm wrapping around you to help you out of his car. He takes revenge on you, however, as he lifts you back into his arms like before, not even allowing you to place your feet on the ground as he walks into the apartment complex despite your complaints, smirking slyly when your face colors the same as his at the odd looks you receive from the other passengers of the elevator.

He puts you down only when you reach the couch inside his apartment, setting you gently on the soft cushions and offering to take your coat from your shoulders. He hadn’t even asked if you had all of your belongings from Jin’s house before he impulsively drove you here, something that he apologizes profusely for, though you wave him off and assure him that you only brought your coat and the things you could fit in its pockets with you.

Not knowing what else to say, Jimin stands in front of you for several long seconds as you look up at him with soft eyes. He’s caught now, forgetting everything that he was doing as he looks back at you sitting so prettily on his couch. That look you have in your eyes is the same one that gave him enough courage to ask you out months ago, your irises nearly sparkling even in the dull lighting of his living room. It takes his breath away and he is momentarily stunned, frozen in place with a heart that beats out of his chest. What was he even supposed to be doing? Your coat is in his hands and he fiddles with it, trying to remember where he wanted to put it before you blindsided him with those beautiful eyes. Ah, yes. The coat closet. Blinking, you take note of how he shifts from one foot, then the other, before clearing his throat.

“I’ll be right back.” Jimin turns from you immediately as he feels his cheeks start to color pink. It feels heavy, having all of those wilting and withering emotions come slamming back down on him with just one look. He’s dazed as he hangs both of your coats in his closet, picking up compression bandages and scissors from his first aid kit then swinging past his kitchen to retrieve an ice pack for you.

When he returns he sees you still seated rather uncomfortably on his sofa, body tense and on the very edge of the seat. You were never this awkward in his home before, even during your first time here— granted, you did spend the first few hours naked in his bedroom, eliminating most of the discomfort you’d feel when he decided to give you a tour of the rest of the place afterward. But Jimin somewhat expected that you would settle right in even though things have changed since the last time you were here. Guess not.

“You can get comfortable, you know. You don’t have to act like a stranger.” He tries to laugh but it comes out a bit dry, the pull on his lips looking a bit forced. And it hits him then that he’s the one that’s nervous. While you seem to be trying your hardest to be polite, he’s actually the one that feels pressured. Swallowing hard, he takes a seat next to you and lifts your injured foot onto his lap again, this time feeling hyper aware of where your body touches his. His hands shake the entire time he wraps your ankle and he’s sure you’ve noticed by how intensely you stare as he works. It’s embarrassing to say the least, but he can’t seem to calm himself. Not when you’re so close to him again and especially not now that he knows how you truly feel about him. So, reluctantly, he removes your legs from him once he’s finished and sets up some pillows over the armrest for you to elevate your foot and places the ice pack on your ankle. “So, um, do you wanna watch a movie or something?”

*** *** ***

One thing Jimin has always found endearing about you is how quickly you tend to fall asleep once relaxed enough. The movie is little over halfway through when he sees your head nodding beside him, catching him by surprise when you lean over to rest it on his shoulder. He shifted you to lay against his strong thigh so you can get more comfortable, and now he’s completely forgotten about the movie as he watches you sleep peacefully against him. Staring down at you like this has all of his worries slipping away, your words from earlier finally sinking in and allowing him to finally react. This was all he ever wanted, you to give him a chance and reciprocate his feelings, and now that it’s happening it doesn’t quite feel real. But you are very real. He confirms this by caressing his thumb over your cheek, planting a soft kiss on your forehead that makes your eyes flutter open.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He whispers sheepishly, but you simply shake your head.

“No, it’s okay.” You stretch but don’t bother to move away from him. You’re far too tired for awkwardness and would much rather return to normalcy with him.

“How’s your ankle?” He asks gently, glancing at where it remains propped up at the end of the couch.

“Mm, a little sore,” He frowns at that, feeling guilty. “But it’s not that bad! I’m fine, really.”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault you got hurt.”

“No it isn’t, it’s my fault for not looking where I was going.”

“But you wouldn’t have needed to watch where you were going if I didn’t storm away from you like that.”

You let out a heavy sigh at this. “Just drop it, okay? It’s really not that big of a deal, I’ll be back to normal in a few days.” You turn your head toward the tv to take in what was happening on the screen, allowing the noise of the movie to fill the quiet that falls between you two.

“I won’t do that again.” Jimin states quietly, playing with the hair at the very top of your head. “In the future, I won’t walk away from you until we work things out like adults. You didn’t deserve that tonight.” Something about how he says this makes your heart stutter. You turn back around slowly, lips parted as you look up at him.

“In the future? As in, you want to have a future with me?” Realizing how that sounds, you quickly try to backtrack as you sit upright with a wave of your hands. “I mean in the near future, not like you want a future with me like we’re getting married or something! You know what I meant, right? I wasn’t implying that... y-yeah.“ At the amused look on his face, you stop, closing your mouth before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. You’re never like this around him. You never used to fumble for words or feel the need to explain yourself like you do now, but suddenly the pounding of your heart has you tongue tied and jittery. Your nervousness makes Jimin feel a little bolder.

“Yes, (Y/n). In both the near and far future, I’ll always treat you with respect. You’ve had it hard. I want to be the one to show you that relationships can be good— that you can trust me to respect you as a person and can put your faith in me. So yes, I want there to be a future.” You blink at him and he has to laugh at the dumbfounded look on your face.

“...Does this mean you’ll give me a chance and date me?” He nods. “You’re not upset? I left you waiting unanswered for months, I would’ve thought you would at least need some time to... reconsider?”

“What’s there to reconsider? My feelings for you are just as strong as the last time I saw you, (Y/n), that hasn’t changed.” Your eyes drop to where his hand lands on your thigh, making you gulp. “We wasted enough time not being together this year, what’s the point in wasting another second? Sure, I was hurt before tonight, but hearing you explain everything so openly to me made me happier than you can imagine. I want you to go out with me. I want you to see how much I care about you and know how far I’ll go to make you happy, and fall for me just like I’ve fallen for you.”

He seems resolute when he says this, serious but sweet all the same, and now it’s your turn to be shocked and dazed by how honest he’s being at the moment. This must have been how he felt earlier, unable to say the right words or relax his body even after your reassurance. You want to tell him that what he said is pretty silly. Silly because you already fell for him without even realizing it and there’s little else he needs to do to prove himself in your eyes. Unable to vocalize all of this, you simply move closer to him until you’re face to face. His hands come to softly rest on your waist out of habit, stabilizing you as you slowly rise on your knees and lean into his lips, kissing them innocently to convey what you feel.

As soon as your lips find his, chills shoot throughout his body. God, he’s missed your lips. Missed the way you smile into the kiss when he presses deeper and pulls you closer with his insistent hands. You tell him everything he needs to know with every movement you make, your hands snaking up from his chest to his neck where they twine loosely in the hair at the back of his head. His breath hitches when you throw a leg over his hips to straddle him, your dress riding up your thighs until it bunches around your hips. You pull away from his mouth, panting and grinning in his lap.

“Okay.” You nod, accepting him.

“Okay?” He raises an eyebrow and you smile.

“Yes. I want that, too.” He allows you to press into him again, his back molding into the cushions of the seat as you rest your weight on him fully.

“Good.” You can see he’s trying not to look overly excited by this because he’s biting his lips hard to contain his smile, but his eyes betray his happiness to you. When he sees you smiling at him, he buries his face in your neck, leaving playful butterfly kisses that flutter ticklishly against the skin of your neck, chest, and shoulders causing you to giggle.

“Jimin stop, that tickles!” You squeal, halfheartedly squirming to get away, but he has his hands tight on your hips to keep you in place. Giggling at your playfulness, he lets his lips linger just a little longer with each peck, stealing licks and nibbles every so often until he trails his way back up to your lips. His fingers slide down to press into the smooth skin of your exposed thighs, wanting but not pushy even as the kisses become hungrier.

You didn’t intend on your make out session turning into anything more, but the atmosphere quickly shifts in that direction as soon as your hips start to roll against his. As soon as your crotch meets his, Jimin bucks into you slightly and you let out a mewl into his mouth, grabbing a fistful of his hair. He feels your body start to heat when he slips his tongue into your mouth, exploring you in sync with the rolls of you hips. Just having you close to him again has his body reacting and he’s sure you can feel him hardening in his slacks, light hisses leaving him whenever you catch his tip against your thigh or pull at his roots, tugging his head back to you every time he tries to pull away to gasp. A wet patch seeps into his briefs beneath your expert hips, ruining his slacks from the inside while you ruin them from the outside with the wetness you drip from your panties.

Jimin’s fingers fiddle with the hem of your dress, breaking from you shortly to silently ask your permission, and once you nod he delicately removes the clothing item before tossing it to the other side of the sofa. Taking it further, he pulls down the cups of your bra to expose your breasts to him, gently rubbing his thumbs over your sensitive nipples.

“So pretty,” He whispers, bending down to take one into his mouth, sucking the bud as you hump against him faster. Your fingers, still wound in his hair, keep him steady at your chest, tiny whimpers leaving your lips at each flick of his tongue and graze of his teeth against your pert nipple. He works around your tits just how you like it, having learned exactly what makes you mewl from the many times he’s found himself in your bed. Your chest is glossy by the time you peel him away, the pressure in your core no longer satisfied by your grinding, and he gives you a questioning look when you move to stand in front of him with your hands on the button of his slacks. Completely forgetting about your ankle, your leg gives as soon as you put pressure on the bad foot and Jimin catches you swiftly, flipping you so that you now lay against the cushions with him kneeling in front of you. “Be careful,” He scolds lightly, trailing kisses up your thighs.

“You don’t want me to give you the ‘sloppy-toppy pepper grinder 9000’?” He snorts at your puppy eyes, pulling down your panties with a shake of his head.

“Not today,” The pecks he leaves up your inner thighs have goosebumps prickling your skin.

“But you love the ‘sloppy-toppy pepper grinder 9000’!” Your pout becomes more prominent when he spreads your legs further apart, anticipation building exponentially in your gut.

“Please stop calling it that,” Jimin laughs, eyes squinting cutely at you. “Tonight I wanna show you how much I missed you. Just relax, baby, let me take care of you.” He doesn’t give you time for a rebuttal, diving down to lick up the arousal that dribbles down your folds, following the trail up with his tongue until he reaches your clit with a flick. You moan immediately and he’s almost surprised by your sensitivity, concealing a small smirk by dipping down to do it again.

His fingers part your lower lips, allowing him to press his tongue more firmly on your bud, and it’s all you can do not to shriek at the bolts of pleasure it sends up your spine. It’s like he’s injected lava into your veins, heat spreading all throughout your body and pooling in your core with every eager swipe of his tongue against your bud, setting your nerves alight. Jimin has always shown enthusiasm for oral— you remember one night in particular where he pinned you down and wouldn’t let up until you were begging and crying for him to stop as your 5th orgasm of the night washed over you— but this is something different entirely. His movements are slow and deliberate, sensual patterns drawn against your most intimate areas to build you up slowly but steadily, focused solely on your throbbing clit that practically begs for his attention. He has his eyes locked on yours the entire time, watching every emotion that flickers across your features and noting what brings you the most pleasure, although he already knows from experience.

“Mmh,” He growls into you as you continue to drip for him. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, your essence coating his cheeks and chin messily. It smears against his lips when you start to rock into him, moaning lewdly in tandem with your movements and holding onto the back of his head for leverage. He really doesn’t mind how you hold his face so tightly to your center. The heat from your core and thighs give his cheeks a delightful flush but he doesn’t pull away for a second, instead using his lips to suck on your pearl until your legs quiver around him. One of his hands drops down to palm at the ever increasing tent in his pants, his dick already at full hardness and twitching impatiently for the chance to be inside you. Just thinking about being inside your wet heat again makes his eyes roll— fuck, he needs to calm down before he cums in his pants. But he can’t help but shift his hips in search of friction when two of his fingers enter you with no resistance, slipping in to the knuckle because of the copious amounts of fluids you leak. It’s easy to find your spot, and when he does your back arches from the chair.

“Fuck, Jimin, I’m close.” You gasp out, tossing your head back as you rub yourself against his face more forcefully.

“Already?” He mumbles against you, the words muffled because he refuses to pull away, but the vibrations of his voice go straight through you. All you can offer is a needy whine to him but it’s more than enough for him to double his efforts. He pushes at your thigh to open you again, then flattens his wet muscle over your clit, using his whole mouth to please you with broad licks that make your toes curl. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he strokes at your spot, pulsing synchronously with the bud against his tongue, and he catches the most beautiful look take over your face as he brings you to climax.

Your skin flushes as the high overtakes you, mouth parted to let out the cutest moans and curses mixed with his name, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows scrunched together as wave after wave crashes down on you. His name has never sounded better to him as it falls from your pretty lips on repeat, drowning out the squelch of your wetness as he fingers you through your bliss. Feeling you pulsate around him is a feeling he’ll never get tired of, but he’d much rather feel you throb around his cock instead of his fingers, his hips bucking up into the air in anticipation.

“So fucking sexy,” Jimin groans, obsessed with the way your hips squirm when it becomes too much. His wet lips press kisses down your trembling leg as you catch your breath, ending with your tender ankle that he babies apologetically.

“Holy shit.” You finally find it within yourself to whisper, melting into the couch beneath you.

“You okay? I’ve never seen you cum that hard before.” He isn’t teasing when he says this, but your cheeks heat up regardless, averting your eyes away from his gentle gaze.

“I haven’t slept with anyone since you, so I’m a little hypersensitive now.” It’s been months since anyone has touched you. Truthfully, it wasn’t only because you felt bad because of your silence toward Jimin, but that certainly played a part in it. Even still, you don’t like how his face morphs into shock as if there’s a horn growing out of your forehead. “Stop looking at me like that!”

“Oh, no it’s just- I haven’t been with anyone else either...” He didn’t like to think about it, but he assumed that you were getting your needs fulfilled by someone else after you had stopped talking to him. Knowing you hadn’t been with anyone else makes an odd relief come over him. Now he’s blushing too and you still can’t look at him, but he climbs up your body to kiss you anyway, easing your momentary shyness. The kiss reignites your desire and suddenly he feels your hands tugging at his zipper, working to free his member from his confinement. He takes this time to remove his own shirt, unclipping your bra and tossing it into the pile of clothes that now sits at the end of his couch as you yank down his slacks and briefs in one go.

His length springs free before you, the sight pulling a whimper from your lips. It’s the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, thick and long and smooth in all the right places, and it never fails to make you gush every time you see it. You can practically feel it inside you already and you can’t wait another minute, wrapping your warm fingers around the base and stroking drips of precum from the tip. Jimin groans with a bite of his lip, removing your hands from him and leaning away.

“Turn over for me.” He instructs, gripping himself as he watches you spin onto your knees with your arms draped over the back of the couch. You look back at him with flirtatious eyes, wiggling your ass at him to entice him into action. A smack lands on one of your cheeks, the flesh jiggling from its force and you hear a sharp inhale behind you. “Comfortable?”

Always the gentleman, he always checks to make sure you’re okay. But you’re far beyond that point, seconds away from grabbing him and pushing him into you yourself.

“Yes, now please fuck me already, I’m going insane.” He snickers at the way you push back toward him, hole searching for his length blindly as sweat accumulates on your back.

“Anything for you, babe.” Fingers collecting your dripping essence, Jimin takes the time to spread your lubricant over himself, allowing you to hear the slick noise and his heavy breaths as you wait on quivering knees. After what feels like an eternity, you finally feel him drag his hot tip through your folds, tapping the weight against you until you’re just about ready to crack. But just as you take in a breath to scold him, he pushes in to the hilt and forces a groan from you.

The intrusion is tight. He almost goes cross-eyed at how tightly you squeeze him upon entry, and he’s awed into silence at the way your velvet repeatedly clenches and relaxes as you try to adjust. At least he thinks you’re trying to adjust, until he brings his fingers down to your clit and starts rubbing, only for the clenching to get more intense.

“Is that okay?” He asks, leaning forward to rest his forehead on your back.

“It’s amazing,” You nearly sob, rocking back into him. “Please move, I can’t take it anymore.”

Before you’re even finished your sentence he’s pulling back, leaving you completely empty except for his tip before thrusting forward. You both moan at the movement and he starts a fairly quick pace, standing erect and gripping your hips securely. Just like the first time he had you, you steal his breath away. It’s addicting, the way he glides in so easily with the thick coating of arousal you cover him in, and he wonders how the hell he lasted months without you. He thrusts deep, giving you every inch and loving the curses and whimpers you let out.

“Shit baby, just like that.” You gasp, digging your nails into the top of the sofa at the pleasure. The arch in your back deepens when he hits your spot, and you involuntarily clench around him, goosebumps crawling up your skin when the tightness pulls a deep groan from him. His cock is the perfect shape, the perfect length for you, and he touches places within you that you can never reach on your own. Every snap of his hips is precise, intended to give you the utmost pleasure because Jimin simply adores seeing you fall apart for him, but there’s something else tonight. Passion. You can feel it in the way his hands roam your body freely, tracing over your curves and caressing you with a tenderness that you haven’t felt before from anyone. His thumbs massage the dimples in your back even as he rams into you, dipping down to line your shoulder blades in sloppy kisses.

“Fuck (Y/n), I missed you so much.” Jimin rasps, sucking a hickey into the side of your neck as he changes his pace to a swivel of his hips. “Missed our long talks, missed your laugh, those cute little moans— mmh— and I especially missed fucking this tight, wet pussy.”

“Yeah?” You try to sound a little cocky, but that’s ruined by the shakiness of your voice. He still has your legs shaking even with the delicate strokes he now delivers, and you have to rest your forehead on the back of the couch to catch your breath.

“I can’t tell you how much I thought about you these past few months. I drove myself crazy wondering if I’d get to see you again.” His voice drops an octave when you squeeze at his words, your walls fluttering along with your heart.

“S-sorry,”

“Stop apologizing, at least I get to have you now.” And have you he does. Whether he knows it or not, he owns your body and heart already and there’s no going back now. Nodding, you start to rock backwards against him, fucking yourself on his cock. He stops moving to let you work, biting down on your shoulder at the feeling as you spread your legs wider to get more leverage. His moans and grunts spur you on, wordless encouragement as you render him speechless with your hips. If he wouldn’t let you use your mouth on him, the least you could do is take some of the work off his hands to pay him back. If it wasn’t for your bum ankle you’d be riding him off into the sunset right now, but you settle for working hard on pleasuring him like this.

His hands aid your movements, pulling you back onto him as you feel the light layer of sweat smear on your shoulder when he rests his forehead against it. One of his hands inches toward your midsection, pressing down slightly to feel the bulge of his tip as it slips in and out of you, pulling a desperate moan from you. The pressure around his member increases from the external force and he moans alongside you, the sweet sound breathed right next to your ear and traveling straight to your core.

“I’m- I’m close again.” You hiccup, faltering in your motions.

Without a word, Jimin pulls out of you, ignoring your whine to move you onto your back swiftly. He situates himself between your open legs, smirking at how they tremble on either side of him as he lines himself up and pushes back into you. At your gasp he steals a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth and savoring the taste of your moans. He drops down to his elbows but you pull him closer until all of his weight rests on top of you, even if it causes his thrusts to be less efficient. When he pulls away for air, he smiles down at you.

“Hi,”

“Hi.” You return, brushing some hair away from his eyes.

“I just wanted you to face me so I could watch you cum again.” Jimin explains cheekily, proud of the blush he pulls from your cheeks.

“Then make me cum.” He doesn’t need to be told twice. Swooping down for another kiss, his hand immediately slithers between your body to reach for your clit, pressing into it with his fingers as his hips pick up speed. You’re confused at first when his hand doesn’t move, your pearl throbbing beneath him, but it’s soon forgotten when he touches your g-spot again and makes you see stars.

Your orgasm builds up with every hard stroke of his, and when your legs move up to wrap around him he hits so much deeper. A knot is forming in his own belly from looking at you, watching you struggle to keep your eyes open and on him as you tug on his scalp. The sparks of pain only add to the almost overwhelming pleasure of being inside you, and Jimin has to focus hard to avoid cumming before you. He grits his teeth as he fucks you harder, reveling in the music of your squelching wetness and the slap of your skin, keeping the rhythm steady to please you. Your hands leave his hair as the pleasure mounts. They grapple at anything around you as you start to lose control, grabbing at the cushions beneath you, scratching down his back, holding onto your own legs, until they finally settle on the firm muscles of his ass, urging him on.

Then he feels it. The steady clamp of your cunt that tells him quite clearly that you’re ready.

Shifting his fingers to swipe a glob of your arousal, Jimin begins rubbing into your clit vigorously, holding his position solidly above you when your body jolts from the sensation. You feel as if he’s rubbing a fireball into your core, heating you up until you’re panting and sweating and just about ready to combust. He’s assaulting you from all sides, battering your g-spot, attacking your clit with his nimble fingers, and sucking at your stiffened nipples; the onslaught of bliss sending you head-first into a breathtaking orgasm.

Looking up at you through lidded eyes, Jimin feels like he’s flying. You look completely enveloped in bliss, pride swelling in his chest as you call out his name and pull him closer until there’s no space between you. Feeling you cum around him is his favorite feeling, he loves the erratic spasms of your inner muscles, how the rest of your body tenses around him, the uncontrollable jump of your hips as he works you through it all with slow fingers until you try to squeeze your legs shut around his body and he takes pity on your whimpering. It feels so good you could cry, and there’s nothing he loves more than the watery eyed smile you give him when you finally peek your eyes open to stare up at him.

His heart clenches as he looks down at you, racing for a reason unrelated to the vigorous movements of his hips. Seeing you like this, with stars in your eyes and soft adoration for him, has him hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You stroke his hair and continue to clench around him, whispering dirty words to push him over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna cum,” Jimin grunts, the crease between his eyebrows growing.

“That’s it, baby,” You drawl as you suck your own love marks into his skin. “Cum for me.”

With a strained groan, Jimin pulls out of you and rubs himself against your lower abdomen, shivering when you drop down a hand to stroke him until white ribbons coat your stomach. There’s a lot of cum and it makes a mess all over you, yet you enjoy every drop, savoring the quivering moans from the man above you. When he’s finished, you release him and reach for his face, bringing him down for a searing kiss.

You don’t know how long you kiss him like that, but you do know that he breaks away all too soon, pushing himself up off the couch to gaze upon his artwork. He lets out a growl of approval, to which you laugh and throw one a pillow at him.

“Pervert.”

“What? I didn’t even say anything!” He snickers on his way out of the room, returning with a wet washcloth to clean you with. His touch is so gentle that you could fall asleep right there, but you force yourself to stay awake to bask in the moment. It’s then that you realize the tv is still on, the movie you had been watching having ended long ago. You reach for the remote and turn off the screen, watching instead as Jimin busies himself with tidying the room. He reaches for you when he deems it good enough, all of your clothes folded at the other end of the couch and his cushions clean of any bodily fluids, and this time when he lifts you into his arms you allow it.

After helping you to the bathroom and making sure you didn’t fall or walk on your injured foot, he rests you on his bed gently and tosses you one of his shirts, slipping on a new pair of boxers for himself. As soon as his warmth enters the bed with you, your entire body relaxes. Cuddling after sex hadn’t always been your thing, but it became routine a few months after seeing Jimin. He couldn’t resist and you couldn’t say no and now it comes almost automatically. He lets you wrap your arms around his midsection and rest your head on his beating heart, his own arm slung around your waist. These moments, these quiet moments where the silence is comfortable and simply feeling your skin is enough, are what he missed the most. He’s never wanted this kind of intimacy with anyone else. Never craved to hug anyone and never let go until he met you. No one has ever occupied his thoughts like this, made him slightly irrational or scared him as much as you do— he’s never been scared to lose someone before he was faced with that situation with you. Jimin is certain he’s never been in love before, therefore he has no idea what it feels like, but now he’s starting to wonder if this is it. The thought is equal parts terrifying and comforting and all he can do is hold you closer.

A chuckle from you draws his attention to the silly smirk on your face, and he just knows you’re about to say something stupid.

“So, you missed this gorilla grip pussy?” Of course you would say something like that. You’re the only person he knows who would say that to someone in seriousness— just like how you came up with that foolish name for a blowjob. But it’s one of your many charms. He stifles a laugh knowing it would only encourage you, but you catch the rise of his cheeks and laugh anyway.

“Ugh, why do I even put up with you?” He rolls his eyes playfully.

“Because of this gorilla grip pussy.” You state as though it were obvious, clinging to him as he lightheartedly tries to push you off.

“God, I missed your goofy ass.” His lips find your forehead and your snuggle deeper into his chest.

“And my-“

“Please, don’t say it again.” Jimin stops you with a wrinkle of his nose, pulling the sheets higher up your bodies. “But yes, I missed that too.” Your giggles settle down after a few seconds and then the mood shifts to something a bit more serious. “(Y/n).”

“Hmm?” You hum, closing your eyes.

“Never think you aren’t good enough. Your past doesn’t define your future and just because a few people treated you poorly in the past doesn’t mean that you’re unworthy of love. You may think that what you went through makes you undesirable, but in my eyes it makes you look incredibly strong. And you’re even stronger to be able to share your experiences with me and open yourself up after all that’s happened. I want you to know that I will never fault you for the shitty things other people have done, and I will spend every day showing you just how amazing you are to me, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t open your eyes as he speaks, afraid that the tears that have been welling up will spill over if you open them. Hearing him say this means the world to you and you’re inclined to believe every word. These are the kinds of things he would say to you when you were still just fuck buddies. He always listened with empathy and took the time reassuring you that nothing you went through was your fault, yet you still doubted him when he showed interest in dating you. Looking back on it, you feel silly. How could you ever doubt such a genuine man, who has never taken advantage of you even once when you poured your heart out to him, who is so understanding and caring that you feel instantly at ease when talking to him? Jimin is everything you ever wanted, and for once your heart and brain can agree to let yourself be happy.

“Thank you, Jimin.” You sniffle, leaning into the hand that now strokes through your hair as his words replay in your mind. You don’t like getting emotional, so you try to dispel it by using humor. “If you truly mean it then get ready, I only get goofier from here.”

He giggles. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Oh it is, trust me.”

“I do.” The seriousness of his tone has you glancing up at him, suddenly overwhelmed by the affection in his eyes. You clear your throat, feeling a blush creep up your neck so you look away. “So will you let me take you out tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, the sooner the better. We could go out for breakfast.” His smile is blinding and your blush deepens. You’re not used to getting shy, but Jimin seems to bring it out of you.

“Brunch. I have a feeling we’ll be sleeping in.” Glancing at the clock, you note how late it is, well past midnight and any other reasonable bedtime. That doesn’t seem to matter, however, because you will probably spend all night laying awake from the excitement of what will come tomorrow— and the day after, and the day after that. Your months of worrying have finally come to an end and this feels like a brand new start. You have no idea what it’ll be like to date Jimin, but the promise of it all is too much to bear. The smile doesn’t leave your face for the rest of the night, not even as you fall asleep.

“Brunch it is.”

#Jimin smut #Jimin angst #bcccse #btscreatorscorner #ksmutclub #clubjimin #ficswithluv

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everybodyscupoftea · 3 years

Text

finally free

ole miss rafe x reader

rafe is tired, you try and help, and eventually the two of you get to drink

two in one day baby (almost?)

(warnings: cursing, drinking, hardly edited)

Rafe had been exhausted lately, cancelling dates to do homework and pulling at least one all-nighter a week. He’d decided to TA his first semester in the program, and while you were happy he got the subject of his choice, you were worried he was running himself too ragged.

It’s not like you had much room to talk, Vet School had been brutal, and the amount of work was what you expected, but weren’t exactly prepared for. A lot of the time you’d spent together starting mid-semester was takeout and homework in one of your apartments.

Your semester came to an end before Rafe’s by two weeks, and you spent the first week catching up on sleep, working out, and making actual home cooked meals for Rafe. You’d been practically living at his apartment, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Babe,” you called one morning, walking out of his room around 10:30.

He was sitting at the dining room table, and looked up at you, glasses perched on the edge of his nose, “What’s up?”

“About to head to the gym, want some breakfast before I go?”

“Had a bagel, thanks though.”

You nodded and kissed his forehead before heading toward the door, “Gonna get some groceries while I’m out and probably Strange Brew. Text me if you decide you want me to pick something up.”

He smiled at you tiredly, and you could see the bags under his eyes from across the room, “Thanks, sweetheart, I think I’m good though. Going to work for a few hours and then take a nap.”

“Please take a nap, you need it. How many days do you have left?”

“Three and then next week is finals. So I’ll have tests and papers to grade. Plus my schoolwork.”

“Are the tests multiple choice?”

“Yeah.”

“I can do those. So you can focus on your own shit and the papers.”

You couldn’t be sure, but it looked like his eyes filled up and the lines on his face softened, “That would be fantastic.”

“Alrighty then, sounds like a plan. I’ll see you in a few, you’d better be asleep when I get back.”

Rafe grinned and sent you a salute, “Yes ma’am.”

He had clearly just laid down by the time you got back, and when you walked in, arms full of grocery bags. Laid on the couch, he jolted, eyes snapping open. You winced, “Sorry, babe.”

Putting away the groceries, you went over the couch and knelt down before running your fingers through his hair. He hummed, leaning into your hand, “Not asleep like you told me to, sorry.”

You smiled softly, “S’okay, you almost were, I woke you up.”

“Groceries put away?” he asked suddenly.

“Mhmm.”

Without saying anything else, he lifted the edge of the blanket closest to you, a clear invitation for you to slide in next to him. Huffing out a laugh, you kicked your shoes off and laid down, half on top of Rafe.

Rafe wrapped a leg and both arms around you, adjusting the blanket until he was happy, and then promptly fell asleep. You smiled and rested your forehead on his collarbone, content to lay in silence with him for a little while.

It couldn’t have been more than two hours before an alarm on his phone under the throw pillow started going off, startling you out of the half asleep state you’d fallen into and waking him up completely.

“Fuck,” he slurred, “don’t wanna get up.”

“Sleep more,” you told him, voice just as quiet.

“Can’t. Got a paper on the Black Plague due in a few days, don’t have enough sources yet.”

“Baby,” you muttered, “you’re running yourself ragged. If you don’t sleep your paper won’t be good anyway.”

Rafe shut his eyes tightly, “I know. But I just can’t.”

“Is there something I can do for you.”

“I-” he paused, one hand coming up to rub his eyes, “you aren’t my mom, I hope you know I really don’t see you that way. I don’t want to treat you like that, you need to know that you’re my equal and that you don’t have to take care of me, that I’m capable of it.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I know. Where’s this coming from?”

“Can you,” Rafe sighed, clenching his eyes shut for a second, “would you mind taking care of my laundry? It’s been a few weeks and I’m almost out of underwear.”

“Yeah, of course. I need to do mine too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I did offer.”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen my friends act like children, treat their girlfriend like a glorified mother. I don’t want to be like that.”

“You aren’t,” you reassured, “I promise.”

He smiled wryly, “Let me know if I am, yeah?”

“I will, don’t worry.”

A week later found you and Rafe sitting on the floor, side by side, backs leaning against the couch. He had a key spread out between the two of you, and you had a stack of exams handed in by two sections of the class. He had an even thicker stack of essays in one hand, and a blue pen in the other.

“Why blue?” you asked, twirling your own black pen in your fingers.

“Hmm?” he mumbled, looking over at you.

“Blue pen instead of black or red, why?” you asked again.

“Oh,” he smirked, “Ole Miss blue.”

“You,” your jaw dropped, “I hate you.”

“You so don’t. I’d even go as far to say you love me.”

“You know I do, please don’t act slick. You’re an MSU student now.”

“Uh huh, only two years compared to five at Ole Miss.”

“Grade your essays, I don’t want to talk to you,” you huffed, faking annoyance, and turned up the quiet music playing through the speaker.

He dropped his head back against the couch and whined, “These papers are so bad though. Like they barely even tried.”

“I’m sure they did, babe, but you’re used to graduate level writing now.”

“No,” he shoved one in your face, a strand of hair falling over his furrowed brow, “read this.”

Grabbing his wrist, you pulled it a few inches from your face to read. He stared at you as you scanned, and made a triumphant noise when you squinted,

“There are a few mistakes,” you mumbled.

“Generous,” he added, sounding smug.

“Don’t make fun of kids, they’re barely 18.”

“They’re assholes,” he corrected you, “like I knew it was a mostly freshman class, but goddamn. I hope I wasn’t this annoying back then.”

“You probably were. I mean, you were barely tolerable when you and I met.”

“No, I was relatively mature, I just didn’t know how to express emotion in a normal way.”

You put a hand on his shoulder and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, “You’ve come a long way.”

Rafe’s cheeks went a little red, and you cooed at him. He pushed your face away from his and muttered, “Grade the exams. You’re a menace.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Rafe asked three nights before his last exam.

“Mhmm?” you answered, half asleep.

“Do we have Christmas plans this year?”

“Don’t think so, why?”

“I wasn’t sure if we were going to your parents’ house.”

“Haven’t talked to my mom in a while,” you frowned, “you think I should call her?”

“Up to you.”

“No, you’re part of this decision too. I know you’re exhausted, so if you don’t want to travel, we won’t.”

He frowned, “You can still go.”

“And leave you alone on Christmas?” He shrugged, not meeting your eye, and you pushed yourself up, staring down at him, “Rafe, you know I wouldn’t, right?”

“I mean, we’ve only been together for a year,” he mumbled.

“Not quite yet,” you corrected, absentmindedly, “but still, you’re important to me.”

“Well, in that case, call your mom, we’ll make the trip.”

“Are you sure? Why don’t you take a few days to think it over. I know you’ve never met them in person before. Doing it on a holiday would be a bit overwhelming.”

He laughed, “Yeah, I guess it would.”

“Sleep now, get back to me.”

“Fine.”

The afternoon of Rafe’s last final, you walked into his apartment to hear Christmas music blasting. Your boyfriend was sprawled out on the couch surrounded by beer bottles, and he gave you a lazy wave, “Sup, mamas.”

“Hey, Rafe. How’d the test go?”

“Excellent. Now I’m celebrating.”

“I see that.”

“It’s Christmas season now.”

“Now, huh?”

“Well the tree has been decorated for two weeks now, so I could argue that your logic is flawed.”

“No no,” he held his hand up, “it’s only Christmas now that I can focus on it.”

“You given any thought to Christmas plans?” you asked.

Rafe sat up suddenly, “Yes,” he pointed at you, “what if we FaceTime your parents instead of making the long ass drive.”

“Fine with me. I talked to my mom the other day and she told us that she’d put our presents in the mail anyway. They expected this.”

He frowned, “You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Great, sounds great.”

“Great,” you joked in response.

Rafe rolled his eyes and shoved your shoulder, “Drink with me.”

“I will. Picked some stuff up this afternoon for spiked eggnog, by the way.”

“Oh fuck yes. Homemade eggnog?”

“Of course.”

He followed you to the kitchen, so close he was almost tripping over your heels, and you huffed, coming to a stop. Rafe ran into your back before stepping back, a sheepish grin on his face, “Sorry.”

“Can I trust you to help me or are you too gone right now?”

“I can help,” he nodded, doing his best to look sober.

“Fine, you’ll stir, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He stood by the stove, wooden spoon in hand, feet spread further than shoulder width apart, dropping down to your height. You measured out the milk and cream and turned the heat up, giving him a weird look, “Why are you standing like that?”

“You were humming that song that’s like do you see what I see and I don’t, so I was curious.”

“It’s a song? You don’t have to take it literally.”

“Hmm, braincells gone. Everything is literal unless specified.”

You snorted, “Stir, dumbass,” before starting to separate the egg whites from the yolks. Keeping an eye on him, you started to whisk the egg yolks, pausing to help him add in the sugar, vanilla and nutmeg when the milk started bubbling.

“Smells good,” he told you, sniffing the mixture.

“It does. You ready to whisk it in?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Rafe very carefully poured and you whisked before pouring it back into the saucepan.

“You got a thermometer?” you asked him, flipping the heat back on.

He pulled open a drawer and brandished one eagerly, clearly proud of himself for being prepared, “Fuck yeah I do.”

“Put it in, tell me when it hits 160.”

Rafe stared, eyebrows furrowed, fully focused on the number. When he told you, you flipped the heat off again and poured in the rum and brandy. Making it a bit stronger than you normally would.

“Bro,” he said, taking a spoonful, “this is incredible.”

“Thanks, bro,” you answered, bumping your hip into his.

“Oh, hip check,” he bumped back, twice as hard, knocking you off balance.

“Rafe,” you glared, stepping away to pour two glasses, “don’t make me spill or you can make another batch on your own.”

“No,” he pouted, “I could never.”

“You couldn’t, no.”

You watched, appalled, as Rafe chugged his first glass, slamming it down and wiping his mouth with the back of his other hand.

“Shit’s good,” he told you earnestly.

“We’re not at a bar, Rafe. Take it easy.”

“Nope, blackout remember?”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, rubbing a hand over your forehead, “pour yourself another I guess.”

Rafe leaned in for a kiss, missing your mouth and landing on your chin, but it was like he didn’t even realize before he was moving around you back to the pitcher you’d poured it in.

It didn’t take many more cups for Rafe to be totally gone, curled up with you on the couch while the live action Grinch played in the background, eyes fluttering shut every few seconds.

“Tired?” you finally whispered, when you were pretty sure there was drool on your shirt.

“Huh?” he asked, blinking rapidly, “No.”

“Sure,” you responded, amused, “let’s go get ready for bed, huh?”

You put the empty cups in the dishwasher before guiding Rafe to the bathroom to make him brush his teeth and get undressed.

“Tryna get me naked?” he asked, swaying in place as he pushed his shirt over his head lazily.

“Yeah,” you answered, rubbing moisturizer in.

Rafe followed you to bed, falling in after you, mostly on top of you, knocking the breath out of your chest.

“Jesus, Cameron,” you wheezed.

“Rafe is fine,” he mumbled into your neck, and was out like a light a few seconds later.

You sighed, squirming under him to try and get comfortable before falling asleep yourself.

day 7 of @obxmermaid‘s holiday challenge: spiked eggnog or cider

#ole miss rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #outer banks #outer banks fic #obxmermaidholiday #college rafe

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

Partners

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: None

A/N:

Okay, so this one has a lot behind it. Technically, this is the first request I ever received (I’d say I got this one around late July?). It was 100% my intent to do all three characters, and it still is, but I got caught up in Bakugou’s and kind of konked on the other two. Also I realized how fricking long this was and thought it would be weird to have as a headcanon-y format.

I spent way too much time strategizing this (I remember literally laying in bed from like 2-4 AM rewatching episodes to get Bakugou’s fighting technique down and taking notes while also thinking about my new OC, who debuts here), but I honestly had the most fun writing this??? Like, I was high key using my brain for this and it was fun. Anyway, I hope it didn’t come out too cringey. If you want to talk to me about my OC, please please please come in my inbox, I am so happy to see you there!

I will finish this request! Sometime! When motivation re-strikes me! I’m about half-way done with Kirishima’s and I have a solid idea for Amajiki’s (different quirks).

I really hope you like this! This was new and experimental for me, and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

-Sugar

The class of 1-A stood in a small grouping, facing their teacher, All Might. They were preparing to begin their hero training for the day, anticipating for when the instructor would receive the go-ahead to begin class. Finally, All Might tapped a finger to the piece in his ear, a person on the other end offering confirmation that the grounds were ready.

"All right, young boys and girls," he said. "Today, we're doing some sparring practice in pairs. You will be graded on your tactic and skill."

He began to go over the general rules, which were the same as always; quirks are completely allowed, nothing dirty, he would interfere if he thought necessary. The objective was much like the sports festival where you needed to either immobilize your partner or push them out of bounds, yadda dadda da.

When he finally began listing off teams, you eagerly listened for your own last name to be read off his sheet.

"—Tokoyami and Shouji, (L/N) and Bakugou, Midoriya and—"

There it was! Your name! And a certain someone else's . . . .

Your eyes flicked around your assembled class, easily locating the blond spikes haphazardly sprouting from his head.

If it wasn't your sweet rival, Bakugou Katsuki.

The two of you were at the top of the class, constantly bumping heads on everything from test scores to hero training.

Oh, this is going to be good . . . .

You'd never fought one on one with quirks with each other before, and you already anticipated getting to know how your respective powers might clash. It wasn't as though the thought hadn't crossed your mind before—quite the opposite, in fact.

You felt considerably prepared for your mini battle with how much you'd watched him over the past months; learning his moves, how he thought, anything from what drove him forward to things that made him tick. You'd caught glimpses of Midoriya's hero notebook where he had information on all his classmates, and a part of you cockily doubted that you would even need something like that when it came to how well you knew your rival by now.

Nevertheless, you began to plot out strategies and stretch while you waited your turn, scenarios playing out in your head as you attempted to plan for any move he could try to pull against you.

Your quirk was called Panic. You could affect the fear response in someone's brain with high frequencies. Your signature attacks came from long, loud screams to make someone wet their pants, but you were also perfectly capable of making odd squeaky noises for a tasty sense of looming uneasiness in your opponent. You had learned some combat techniques, but for the most part you did better at long range; trying to immobilize the enemy enough to swoop in unexpected and secure them.

No one was wearing their hero costume, only in their gym uniforms. This would provide a slight disadvantage to you because you didn't have your directional speaker, but it wasn't the most necessary support item. You could function well enough without it.

Every now and then, you'd be knocked out of your meticulous scheming to watch some of your fellow classmates spar. There were a few pairs going at one time, but you were placed in one of the last sets, so you had the advantage of time to strategize. Eventually, however, you were called into one of the training rings, straightening and confidently adjusting your blue and white jacket.

You met Bakugou's fiery red eyes from across the way, teasingly waving at him and smirking. His gaze darted away from yours, stubbornly deciding to glue itself to the floor.

He wouldn't go easy on you. In fact, quite the contrary. You knew he'd give you everything he had and more, and you were more than prepared to do the same for him.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were planted in the loosely packed dirt of the training ring, several meters away from where Bakugou stood across from you, stretching out his arms. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for the signal to go, scraping the most important points you'd worked out earlier to the front of your brain.

After what felt like forever, the siren blared in your ears, causing you to tense, ready to begin your round with your explosive rival.

You shot towards him, wanting to get as close as possible. You expected he might try to stay away, keeping a distance so your quirk wouldn't affect him so much. Instead, he stood his ground, holding out his palms to you as you approached. Internally, you faltered, wondering what he was planning to do.

Nevertheless, you kept running forward, getting as close as you dared before drawing in a breath to scream and release your power. You noticed Bakugou flinch as sound began to leak from your throat, but he quickly fired off an explosion in your direction, drowning out the sound.

Of course! You internally smacked yourself. You relied on him being able to hear your screams in order for your quirk to affect him. He would have to use his explosions to drown out the sound.

Your mind began to spin, trying to formulate a new plan, when he began making an advance on you. Loud, crackling explosions danced off his hands, not horribly powerful, but boy, were they loud. You cringed at them, resisting the urge to cover your own ears to protect yourself from the noise. He kept coming closer, heat and smoke flickering over your face, causing you to take a step back, then another.

So that's his plan, you thought, taking another step in the direction of the boundary lines. He knows he can't really fight hand-to-hand, and there's no way either of us are going to admit defeat, so he's trying to push me out.

Your objective was to either knock him unconscious or chase him out of bounds, but this could be used to your favor if you timed it correctly.

Quirks are physical abilities too, you remembered hearing Midoriya say. Even Kacchan has his limits.

Push him to his limits. That's what you had to do.

You let him fire off blast after blast, keeping as far out of his reach as you could while leading him around the arena. He didn't have much choice but to keep going. If he stopped, you would be able to use your quirk on him, and you had a good chance of winning with one as powerful as yours. He simply had to keep a clear head and try to push you further towards the white boundary lines. Every now and then, he would lunge forward, trying to grab at you, and you would shriek at him, smirking as a moment of panic flashed across his face when the piercing noise slipped into his ears. This also served to make him all the angrier, lips curling into a snarl at your dominion over his emotions.

You made sure to keep your distance. You weren't wearing your hero costume, which would have helped in the sense that he wouldn't have been able to grab your mouth from under the directional speaker you wore over your mask, but you were grateful you didn't have to deal with his gauntlets.

You didn't like that he kept moving, and a small part of you was almost certain your fear and anxiety-inducing quirk would make his palms sweat even more, but there wasn't more you could pull against him. You just had to keep going until one of you exhausted yourself.

The smoke wasn't helping you. It scratched at your throat and stung your eyes. The scent of burning sugar filled the air, and you wondered how much more the both of you could take.

There it was, a wince from behind one of the black clouds, a falter in one of the fiery blasts. He was growing tired, but you knew from his expression of blank determination he wouldn't stop no matter what toll it took on his body. Anything for him to win, but you were the same way. Though he'd been focusing on the sound levels of his quirk rather than the force of each blow, it had still been taxing, and you knew that now was your chance.

The whole time, you'd been on the defensive, trying to save your voice and keep out of the way until this very moment, but now was the time of offense. You began to work the two of you over to the boundary lines, hoping to lull Bakugou into a false sense of security that he was getting you where he wanted.

Without warning, you leapt forward, going in to knock his feet from under him. If you got him on the ground, it would be easier for you to secure his hands and grab his head, which would ensure the win for you.

He snarled and leapt back. His reflexes were phenomenal, but in his moment of defense, he dropped from using his quirk. Bingo.

A deafening sliver of silence followed his motion, which you quickly filled with a piercing scream, one of the loudest you could muster.

His eyes widened and he stumbled, another explosion firing off as a flash of fear coursed through his body. You went for his feet again, and this time you wouldn't let up, pulsing high-pitched shriek after shriek to keep him on edge. He tried to keep on his toes, swinging at you almost blindly as you darted forward and dodged.

You'd learned that if you didn't do it enough, the fear and adrenaline of your enemy could work against you, heightening their senses and reflexes, and if you did it too much, your opponent might get used to your effect. Now, however, you knew to work quickly, forcing your influence into his head until he would struggle to think clearly, landing a good blow to his knees.

He crumpled forward, and you straddled yourself on top of him easily, taking his hands in one of yours behind his back and using the other to clutch at the base of his neck. You could feel his heart pounding underneath you, see his eyes rolling in his skull. The thought crossed your mind to pity him.

You loved your quirk, occasionally delighting in how easy it was to assert a certain amount of control over people. But you weren't a monster, and the idea of needlessly terrifying your classmates brought a curl to your lip in distaste. But this was your rival, Bakugou Katsuki. Maybe he deserved to be put in his place. Just a little.

You leaned forward and put your lips to his ear, letting out a final, high-frequency hum directly into his canal. You felt him seize up beneath you, hearing how his breathing changed as he tried to suck in breaths to calm himself. You wouldn't let up, however, and before long, you felt him go limp under your belly.

You stood after making sure he had slipped from consciousness, pride filling your chest. You'd done it. You'd won out over your rival.

You looked around and made eye contact with Cementoss, who had been monitoring your half of the fighting rings. He nodded at you approvingly and advanced to take Bakugou out of the ring.

You flounced back to the room where your classmates had been watching the sparring matches, allowing yourself to relish in the way everyone's eyes turned towards you.

"(L/N) shojo," All Might said. "Excellent job."

The silence of the class was cleared and everyone who was still in the room surged forward to congratulate you.

"You beat Bakugou!"

"That was amazing!"

"You really did it!"

Once everyone had settled, you excused yourself to go to the locker rooms.

On your way, you ran into Bakugou, who had since woken up from the little nap you'd forced him into.

"Oi, Bakugou," you said, the sound of your voice causing his blond head to whip around. You approached him and stuck out a hand. "Good match."

He glared at your hand and smacked it away. Why did his reaction kind of . . . hurt?

"Shut up!" he yelled. "Next time, you won't—you won't beat me so easily, mouse." He nearly choked when he had to admit that you had won against him.

"Still calling me a mouse?" you asked, tilting your head and smirking.

"You still squeak like one," he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Don't think I'm done with you. You might have won today, but don't get used to it."

"Oh, I think I just might," you said cockily, breezing past him to slip into the girls' locker room door.

Bakugou growled at your disappearing back. What the hell was wrong with you? More importantly, what the hell was wrong with him?

He gripped at the back of his neck where you'd grabbed him, shivering at the memory of the sensation of your lips to his ear.

He had to snap out of it. You were his enemy. The only place you should have in his mind were in thoughts of how to overcome you, how to pound you into the ground until he came out on top above you.

And yet you wouldn't leave his head, and he found his eyes chasing your form nearly every day he saw you.

Bakugou snarled to himself, snapping him out of these thoughts and pushing himself from the locker room entrances. He would find a way to beat you. He wouldn't stop until he figured out a way to do it.

He wouldn't rest until he sorted out these feelings too, whatever they were.

Bakugou's black boots clicked on the floor as he exited the building. This was only the beginning of your saga together, and the two of you refused to enter passively.

*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡⁎*✲ﾟ*｡⋆♡

Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

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mxchellesworld · 3 years

Text

𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

***

The next few weeks went by in a breeze. It was now mid December and you were excited for the holiday season. You weren’t able to go with your family this year but Abbie had promised to make the time as festive as possible in your new home. Cat had scheduled time off to spend it with you and Spencer as the both of your jobs already gave you the days free.

They started to take you out to fancier places. You’d all dress up and sip on fine wine in restaurants. However you also had time with both of them individually. Spencer loved to take you to places where he could show off his knowledge. Dates to the museum or aquariums were your favorite. He would always talk your ear off and you would happily hang on to each word, asking him to further explain a certain topic.

Cat was more for artistic dates. She signed you guys up for painting classes. Each one of your masterpieces were now hanging up in your apartment, greeting you every time you got home. Or a ceramics class where she wasn’t too fond of how messy clay can get. One of your favorites was a wine tasting class. Spencer had to take you guys home after one too many glasses.

Slowly the emotional and physical bruises were disappearing. Neither of you had mentioned going back to the club. You didn’t mind though, it was probably for the best you take a break from that scene. You knew they still went, obviously being owners they needed to keep up appearances.

Just because you weren’t playing at the club didn’t mean you weren’t having fun at home. After your stunt of trying to be in control they spent their time showing you exactly who was in charge. Shocker: not you.

But just like their personalities had shifted your sex life had as well. Each time was filled with more of those kisses which made the butterflies in your tummy go crazy. More of your fingers interlaced and sharing each others breathes as you came down from your highs. More silent whispers of those three little words that made you all feel warm inside.

You had finally been able to have that long waited brunch with Penelope. She told you to go to her favorite cafe. It was bright pink with rainbows and unicorns littering every single corner.

You walked in and she called your name from a booth in the corner. She was excitedly waving you over. You had noticed her outfit was quite different than the one when you met her. The black corset was replaced by a knee length dress, it was pink and had colorful little shapes all over. She also donned chunky necklaces and had fluffy pins in her hair.

“Y/n I am so happy to see you again!” she said pulling you into a hug. Her embrace was extremely comforting. It felt like when Abbie hugged you, the same sisterly protectiveness they both radiated.

“Me too Penelope! How have you been? How was visiting your brother?” you questioned her as you sat down.

She explained her family situation and you silently listened to her. Your hand instinctively grabbed hers from across the table, trying to bring her a gentle form of comfort and understanding.

A waitress came by and asked what you’d like to order. You decided to get a lemon tea and a strawberry chocolate crepe. Penelope on the other hand ordered a unicorn blast frappe with a slice of chocolate cake.

You both ate and talked about any updates in your life. You had told her about how you were mainly going to be alone for the holidays so she had invited you to her house for the annual party she threw.

“Most people from the club go. We’re all really close and it’s fun to see each other in a different light ya know. I’m sure everyone would love to meet you,” she said taking a sip of her equally colorful drink.

“Sounds fun. I’ll think about it and let you know alright,” you said cutting into the crepe. Of course you wanted to go but you didn’t know if Cat and Spencer wanted to have you around their friends yet. You guys haven’t had the conversation about making everything official but it was obvious you guys were a step up from the past dynamic.

Once you guys had finished up eating she insisted on paying the bill. After a few minutes of bickering you relented and let her pay, “Fine, I’ll let you get it this one time but don’t be surprised if muffins suddenly show up at your house,” you said pointing a finger at her.

She gave you a hug goodbye and wished you a safe drive home. You did the same and promised to keep her updated about your stance on going to her party.

Arriving at your house, you saw you had a missed call from Spencer. You set your stuff down and threw yourself on your bed, having your phone on speaker as it rang.

Three rings later and you heard his voice float through the air, “Hey hey,” he said stressing the ‘y’.

You giggled as you answered, “Hey Spence, What’s got you in a good mood?”

“I am glad you asked Y/n/n. I just finished all my grading for my classes this term and suddenly have the afternoon free,” he said excitedly.

You were aching to see the smile you knew was on his face so you hit the button to switch the call to facetime. Like you had predicted he there was a smile on his face spread from cheek to cheek. His phone was propped up on his desk and you could see his whole face and torso. He was wearing one of his suit and sweater combos, which you thought were adorable.

“Very nice, any big plans for the night?” you asked holding the phone up high as you laid in bed. You noticed the top buttons on the flannel you had on were popped off, showing the red lacy bra you had on underneath. Spencer’s lack of response let you know what he was looking at.

“See something you like Sir?” you said in a teasing voice.

He cleared his throat, his eyes shifting back to look at your face, “Of course I do. Who were you trying to impress wearing that under your clothes? Do they already know you belong to someone else?”

You decided to play along and tease him. The inner brat in you was aching to be let out so you had to have some fun. You set your phone to be propped up by your pillows as you rested on your knees in front of it.

“Yeah and to who is that exactly? I don’t see a collar around my neck Spencie,” you said further unbuttoning the shirt, letting it hang loosely around your frame.

You saw him look to his side, probably making sure the door to his office was closed. “Is that what you need princess? Do you need me to get you a collar like a lost little puppy to show you and everyone else who that tight little cunt belongs to,” he gritted into the phone.

You shivered at his words. You had seen other people in the club with a choker type necklace around their necks. Many were simple with little designs while others had hoops at the front. Some people even tugged their partners around on a leash. You didn’t think you were there yet but the thought of everyone knowing who you belonged to because of a simple piece of leather around your neck was enticing.

This time your silence let him know he had gotten to you, “Keep striping,” he said smirking into the camera.

You pulled off the flannel and felt the hairs on your skin prick up from the chill in your room. “Keep going princess. I wanna see all of you.”

Hopping off the bed you put your fingers in the leggings you had on and tugged them down your legs. Spencer licked his lips at the sight of the lacy set in contrast to your skin. All your best aspects were on display. You crawled up towards the phone and saw Spencer shifting with his pants. You grabbed the phone again and went back to your previous position of laying down.

“Touch yourself for me princess,” you heard Spencer say.

You let your hand slide down between your legs grazing over the lace material, you could feel the slowly growing wet patch. A sigh left your lips at the sensation, your fingers teasing over your clothed slit.

“I wish you were here Sir,” you said looking into the phone. You could make out the motions of Spencer pumping his cock but the visual was under the frame, “Can I watch you?” you tried to say in your most convincing voice. Knowing about his soft spot for you, you’d get your way easily.

He scooted his chair back a little and angled his phone giving you a full view. You moaned at the sight of his long cock dripping with precum, the way he used his thumb to collect it over the tip just how he liked it.

“Fuck princess, I wish you were here too. I’d bend you right over the table and fuck you hard enough for everyone in this damn building to hear,” he groaned.

You let your fingers slip inside the fabric and gather some of your slick. You used it to rub quick circles on your clit before you inserted one of your fingers. You whined wishing it was one of his longer, fuller ones.

Your eyes raked over the phone screen, taking in the way his head fell back as he pleasured himself. The way the long veins on his hands popped out drove you wild.

You weren’t shy about hiding your moans. You let them float through the room and into the phone freely as you fingered yourself. Neither of you were saying much but the thought of each others presence was enough to have you guys panting.

“I’m so close Sir,” you moaned, “I wish I had your big cock inside me.”

“That’s it baby, fuck yourself while you think of me. Just wait until I get my hands on that sweet body again, I’m gonna fuck you till you cry princess,” he said breathlessly.

His words spurred you on and soon enough the knot in your belly was exploding. You took the fingers out from inside of you and quickly rubbed your clit. Your other hand had a hulk-like grip on your phone

“Cum with me Sir. Please,” you mewled out.

“I’m right there with you princess.”

You both let out sighs of pleasure. His a bit more quiet due to being on campus and the walls could only do so much. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open and gaze over everything on your phone. You tried to catch his facial expression down to the spurts of cum dripping down his hand.

You stayed spread out on your bed as you watched Spencer clean himself up with a pack of tissues on his desk. He then tucked his now soft cock into his pants and picked up the phone looking at you with a smile.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Hey pretty girl,” he said back.

You thought back to Penelope’s invitation and decided to bring it up to him, “I was at lunch with Pen today and she brought up a party she holds for the holidays. Maybe it’s dumb but do you and Cat wanna go together? Like with me I mean,” you asked laying on your side.

“Yeah I don’t see why not princess. We’ve been meaning to show you off to everyone at the lounge but we didn’t know if you were ready to go back,” he trailed off.

“I understand. Thank you guys for being so patient,” you said. Your heart felt soft at how they wanted to introduce you to their friends.

“Maybe by New Years or something we have a big event. You can even get me collar and all,” you said with a teasing giggle.

He playfully groaned, “God you wanna kill me don’t you.” You shared a laugh and looked at your phones in silence taking in each other. The same giddy feeling you get when you’re around them flowed through you.

The day of the party had came sooner than expected. Penelope was over the moon that you accepted her invitation. You showed up to Cat and Spencers apartment around 6pm to head over to Penelope’s house together. Your eyes raked over Cat’s frame as she opened the door.

She was wearing a deep red dress that went down to her knees. It had a lace trim and black belt around her waist. Her hair was done in curls which fell to her shoulders. Looking back her face, the dark lipstick she always wears was painted across her now smirking lips.

“Get a good look angel?” she said looking you up and down.

You had on a forrest green dress that fell to your mid-thigh. Your hair was in looser curls and you did minimal makeup.

“Always Mistress,” you said with a wink.

She brought you into a hug and gave you a small squeeze. Looking into the hallway you saw Spencer make his way over to where you stood. He had on one of his dark suits. The only spec of color on him was the red and green tie around his neck and the mix matched Christmas socks peeking from under his slacks.

Once she let you go. Spencer took his turn to wrap his arms around you. You inhaled the scent of his usual peppermint and Calvin Klein cologne. He rocked you back and forth then let go and looked you up and down.

“Both of you look absolutely beautiful tonight,” he said with a small smile.

“Spence come on you look as dashing as always,” you said dusting off his shoulder.

“Well shall we get going?” Cat said shrugging on her coat.

You and Spencer nodded then made your way down to the elevator. Cat’s fingers interlocked with yours as Spencer held his hand at the small of your back.

The car ride there was mostly quiet. You watched as the lit up streets passed you by. Storefronts with reefs and gigantic bows on top of their logos as decoration. Soon enough the driver stopped and they led you to Penelope’s door. You could hear the music from outside and you felt excited for what the night held.

Spencer rang the doorbell and after a minute Penelope whipped the door open. You could smell the booze and gingerbread radiating off of her.

“Hello my little sugar cookies, I’m so glad you could make it.” she said ushering you all in. You gathered she was already too intoxicated to question how you all showed up together. Of course you spoke too soon and she turned around pointing at the three of you.

“Wait how do you all know each other?” she questioned.

You were about to speak up and mention that you became friends after your first time at the club but Cat cut you off.

“Y/n is our girlfriend.”

𝐚/𝐧; 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐥!!! 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐡𝐡, 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #cat adams x reader #cat adams smut #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #chellewrites

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idyllicstarker · 4 years

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“Come on, let’s go on a drive” • Starker

Warnings: One use of foul language, one comment with implict sexual connotations, otherwise none, just a healthy douse of fluff

“Come on, let’s go on a drive.”

Peter blinked surprised, head lifting from the soft pillow underneath his cheek, to look over his boyfriend. Tony was kneeling on the edge of the bed with a soft smile, his eyes still looked clouded with sleep, as he beckoned Peter to get up. The man was still in the boxers he’d slept in, but he looked as serious as ever.

Peter shifted under the sheets, hand reaching out to tap his phone screen, squinting at the sudden light as he tried to make out what the time read.

“It's 2am Tony”, he said quietly, rolling over again to face him.

“Okay.. so let’s go on a drive.”

Peter let out a tired laugh, shaking his head. “Come back to bed love, you were asleep five minutes ago.”

“Yes but you weren’t”, Tony stressed, his voice no louder than a whisper. Crawling forward he placed a kiss to Peter’s head. “I know you’re worrying over your final grades. So, I thought we could go on a little drive, I know that calms you down, especially when it’s raining”, he hummed softly.

Peter felt very warm - very loved; Tony spoke so gently to him. In all fairness, he was stressed, he’d been worrying all night, and Tony was right, he hadn’t been able to sleep. As the man let out snores, Peter had tossed and turned, and when he’d woken Tony up with all the movement, he’d profusely apologised.

What he hadn’t expected was for Tony to get out of bed. As silence fell over the room, Peter confirmed that it was indeed raining, he could hear the quiet pitter-patter against the window. It was soothing, calming even, and maybe that would lull him to sleep instead. Maybe.

As tempted as he was, he knew Tony was tired. Back to back meetings had wore him out, to make him drive him around so late at night just seemed selfish.

But Tony saw the hesitance in Peter’s eyes, and decided he wasn’t going to give an option. He tore the sheets off the boy, laughing at the way he squirmed.

“It’s cold Tony”, Peter whined, but the smile on his lips showed he wasn’t all that mad.

“Well then put a hoodie on and hurry up”, Tony prompted, gently pulling on Peter’s hands to help him sit up, before climbing off the bed to get into some of his own clothes.

***

The soft purr of the engine rang out into the quiet night. Peter winced, glad they didn’t live around anyone and turned his gaze out the window.

“We don’t have to do this Tones, I promise, I’m fine”, he muttered softly, the guilt obviously setting in.

He’d pulled on one of Tony’s old sweatshirts, the sleeves bunched up in his fists, and the hood pulled atop his head so that only a few chestnut curls could be seen peeking out. The man glanced over at him, and couldn’t help the affectionate smile that rose onto his face at how adorable he looked.

His face was slightly flush from exhaustion, but Tony could see how his brain was still whirring, so the drive was needed, even if Peter denied it.

He decided not to reply, simply pulling out of the garage and out onto the road. Peter let out a small huff at being ignored, crossing his arms over his chest. Tony laughed softly at the sight.

“Peter baby”, he muttered softly “relax.”

“How am I supposed to relax knowing you have four meetings tomorrow, and yet we’re out here at 2am because you’re too stubborn for your own good.”

For a moment the car was silent. Tony’s steady gaze focusing on the road in front of them. He’d put his glasses on before they’d left the house but they were slightly crooked in his haste to get out. He knew better than to drive without them though, especially if he had Peter in the car with him.

“I just wanted to help…”, the man finally whispered. He’d deflated in his seat, no longer as excited as he had been, and all at once a wave of guilt washed over Peter. “I just… I’m sorry, we can go back”, he continued quietly.

A fool. That’s what Peter was. Tony was doing this for him, he was always so good to him, and he still couldn’t appreciate it.

“I don’t want to go back”, Peter mumbled quietly, raising his hand to gently fix Tony’s glasses on his nose, and leaning over the console to press a kiss to his cheek. It was still cold from the shock of leaving the warmth of their bedroom, and so he moved to turn on the heater.

“Do you think you can reschedule the meetings tomorrow?”, he asked gently after a moment.

“If it makes you feel better.”

“It would.”

“Then I will.”

Peter nodded his head, letting out a small breath of relief. “We can sleep in. And I’ll make you breakfast in the morning”, he offered, almost as an ultimatum.

Tony huffed out a laugh, taking his right hand away from the wheel so he could rest in on Peter’s thigh. A smaller, warmer hand, found its way on top of it a second later, lacing their fingers together. “How could I ever say no to breakfast”, he hummed.

Peter laughed gently, resting his head back against the rest, titling his head so he could watch the raindrops fall slowly down the glass of the window.

His thumb gently ran over Tony’s knuckles, brushing over the grooves and scars left behind from a life of hard work.

“You can put on some music if you want”, Tony spoke after a good few minutes of silence, the sound of the rain hitting the top of the car, and the soft hum of the engine.

“I didn’t bring my phone.”

“Have you forgotten what a radio is?”, Tony asked teasingly. Peter giggled, closing his eyes as he yawned, and shook his head.

“Alright old man, we’ll do it your way”, he muttered, slowly opening his eyes to gaze over the man with a sleepy look of affection, before he leaned forwards to turn the radio on.

Within seconds, loud rock music was blasting through the speakers, Peter jumping twice his height as he scrambled to turn it down.

“Jesus Christ Tony”, he hissed, once it was at a more acceptable level. The man himself was laughing hysterically, the sides of his eyes crinkled in the way that Peter adored so much. Tony had such a cute smile, he didn’t know how anyone could ever disagree with that.

He rolled his eyes, moving his left hand to grip at the steering wheel, to make sure Tony didn’t swerve. He trusted him enough not to, knowing he wouldn’t put his life in danger like that. But he also knew that if they did get into an accident, Tony would do everything in his power to make sure Peter was as safe as he could be. Even if it meant directing the car in such a way that the hit was directed to Tony. Therefore, Peter acted as the balance, he wouldn’t allow that to happen. The road was largely deserted, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

“You done?”, he asked, unamused as Tony began to calm down. The older male snickered, glancing over at the boy and smiling softly.

“You love me really”, he said simply, watching as Peter took his hand back off the wheel, to rest over Tony’s on his lap once again,

The boy made a show of pretending to think about it, letting out a hum as he gave the man’s fingers a squeeze. “I guess you’re right”, he ended up shrugging.

Tony scoffed at that, looking out at the approaching lights of the city.

“What?”, Peter asked with a soft giggle, “maybe if you didn’t leave your music blasting all the time, so that when I go to turn it on, I won’t have a heart attack… I’d love you more.”

“The car’s sound proof, no one can hear it…”

“I can!”, he interjected, pouting slightly.

They pulled up to a red light and Tony huffed. “Smile sweetheart, if you frown and pout all the time you’ll end up looking ugly like me”, he said softly, leaning across the console to press a kiss to the sweet lips that were basically inviting him to do it, so Peter couldn’t complain.

“Eyes on the road mister”, Peter muttered when he’d pulled away, but he of course, would never complain about a few extra kisses. “And you’re not ugly, so stop saying that. You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen”, he hummed.

“You have to say that, I’m your boyfriend”, Tony corrected.

“Oh please, the only reason I’m your boyfriend is because you’re sexy”, he teased, causing Tony to gasp as if he was offended, pulling off again as the light turned green.

“Then what happens when my looks start to slide?”, he questioned.

Peter raised an eyebrow, pretending to be very confused as he turned his face away. “I thought they already had”, he mumbled - of course it was all playful, a deliberate attempt to rile him up.

Tony knew that all too well, and began to laugh. “Hey now Peter, I don’t care if I’m seventy, and my chest is sagging, and my stomach’s round, and I have no hair, you're gonna love me anyway”, he said, nudging him gently.

Peter snorted, moving to rest his head on Tony’s shoulder, after having pressed a gentle kiss to his jaw. “I will, I’ll always love you. I don’t love you for your look:, even if the small gray hairs poking out of your head do sinful things to my thoughts. I love for who you are. So yes, even when you’re seventy, I’ll be right here beside you”, he whispered gently, nuzzling his cheek against his shoulder gently.

The rain had begun to pick up a bit more now. The raindrops sounded heavier against the roof. The buttery glow of the streetlights on their faces became more frequent as they turned into the more populated streets.

This was a conversation they’d had many times. Tony was usually the one to express his doubts. He may be egotistical most days of his life, but Peter had quickly figured out that he was a slight bit insecure about their age difference. He was always quick to reassure him, despite the jokes he made. Peter wasn’t going anywhere. And besides, he was pretty sure Tony Stark couldn’t age badly, it just seemed impossible.

“I know Peter. I do. And I thank you for that”, he said softly, tilting his head to press a kiss to his temple. He felt the way his cheek squished further into the material of his shirt as Peter smiled.

“Don’t thank me for loving you. It’s pretty hard not to.”

“I beg to differ.”

A roll of his eyes, and Peter was poking at his side gently. “Shush, I don’t have the energy to tell you all the reasons why I love you right now”, he huffed out.

Again Tony laughed, turning around a corner so that they could go back the way they came. They weren’t planning to go anywhere in particular, but he knew Peter preferred driving in the more secluded areas. They were more dangerous of course, but they made a great team against anyone who would try to cross them. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave the self loathing to another day.”

“Tonyyy”, Peter whined.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I love you too sweetheart”, he muttered instead.

Peter nodded his head, happy with that answer as he leaned forwards to change the station, ignoring Tony’s grunt. “You said I could play music, we’re playing what I want”, he said adamantly.

When he found a station to settle on, he gasped quietly hearing the song. He was up in an instant, Tony having to blink and register the fact that all the energy had seemed to come back to him. “I love this song”, he giggled, moving to turn it up just slightly.

The slight scrunch of Tony's nose showed it wasn’t quite to his taste, but with the way Peter was grinning, and making up an elaborate dance routine in his seat, he didn’t have the heart to complain. He was wiggling his hips to the beat, singing along quietly, and Tony couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He really did love him so much.

He turned it up just slightly, quite enjoying the personal concert he was receiving.

As the next song came on, Peter apparently coined onto the fact that he knew it. And was begging the man to sing with him. They bickered for a moment, but of course, Tony lost at the sight of the wide puppy eyes, and suddenly they were dancing and singing together.

By the time Peter had calmed down, Tony’s voice was hoarse, but it was worth it because the other seemed less tense. He was yawning slightly, Tony turning the music down as the younger male cuddled up under his hoodie, and curled into his seat. Tired eyes watched as they passed familiar buildings, but they were slowly starting to blur.

“Do you think I’m going to pass everything tomorrow?”, he asked quietly after a moment. He seemed timid and shy, turning his body to look over Tony, as he yawned once again.

“I know you’re going to pass tomorrow Petey. With flying colours, top of your class”, he corrected.

The boy sighed out, pretending to seem uninterested with that reply, but Tony noticed the blush creeping onto his cheeks. “Be serious”, he huffed, and Tony laughed quietly.

“I am sweetheart. I know you better than anyone. You can say I have high expectations but I know your abilities and what you can do. Even if you don’t see it. And I know you’ve tried your hardest no matter what. And that’s all you can do. Your best. I’ve seen your sleepless nights studying, the way you’ve overworked yourself… you’re going to be absolutely fine. I know you are.”

“But what if my best isn't enough.” The look on Peter’s face almost broke his heart. Tony knew, the effort he’d put into his grades, and to fall now, Tony knw would wound the boy much worse than any enemy of the boy could.

“It will be”, he soothed, gently moving to take Peter’s hand in his, and being the smooth knuckles up his lips, pressing a comforting kiss over them. “Everyone, including me, will be proud of you, no matter what you get. If you get into M.I.T great. It’s your dream, and you deserve to live it. If you don’t, then fuck them. You’ve tried so hard everyday, and we all know your so much better than any grade that you get on a piece of paper”, he said.

As the streetlight washed over Peter’s face, he could see the blush had only grown stronger. Spreading over his nose and to his ears. But what got Tony most of all, was the tears that were in his love’s eyes.

“Baby…”, he muttered quietly, his entire expression softening at the sight. He ended up pulling over, onto the side of the road, shutting off the engine so he could give him his undivided attention.

“You really think so?”, Peter ignored his concern, instead focusing on his words. He sounded so trusting of Tony as always, but there was clearly something holding him back from believing in his own worth. It was something that Tony had become well accustomed to by this point. Something he’d tried to make sure wouldn’t grow too heavy on the boy's shoulders. It took a lot of encouragement, praise and overall a healthy support system, something Tony was more than happy to provide.

“I know so, sweetheart”, he confirmed. “Your intelligence is unmatched-”

“Apart from yours of course”, Peter giggled wetly.

Tony shook his head, usually appreciating the ego boost, but not right now. “Peter, honey, sweetheart, baby, love bunny.. you’re so much smarter than I will ever be. And at 18 years old too. You’re amazing. I’m jealous of that little brain of yours. And if M.I.T can’t see that, regardless of your grades, then they’re idiots.” (Peter hadn’t let him interfere with the process, he wanted to do this on his own - the only thing he did was send a glowing recommendation that was of course only filled with praise)

Peter was sobbing by the end of his little speech, and Tony took off his belt, moving to take him into his arms. He held the boy as he trembled, rubbing his back, and letting him cry off all the stress he’d been holding in.

When he was done, and he pulled back, his eyes were puffy, but as always, they held so much love for the man beside him in the car. “Thank you Tones…”, he mumbled quietly. What else was he supposed to say. There were no words he could give to truly display the way he felt.

But Tony didn’t want anything else. He just wanted Peter happy. That was the most important thing. “I love you”, he said softly in the end, moving his thumbs to stroke softly over his cheeks, and wipe away the rest of his tears.

“I love you too”, Peter muttered gently, laughing as he caught sight of himself in the reflection on the window.

“I’m a mess”, he added after, shaking his head, as he caught Tony’s lips against his own.

When he pulled away, Tony winked at him. “My beautiful mess”, he offered instead.

Peter rolled his eyes, but loved the phrase nevertheless. “I guess we can say that”, he hummed playfully, looking over Tony with all the love and affection the small body could possibly give.

Tony could see past that however, noticing how tired he was now. The good thing was, he did seem to be a lot better. And he supposed his words had taken some good effect. At least he could do that right. A quick glance at the clock told him it was nearing 3:30am now, so home was a given, even if he was quite enjoying their time in the car. He wanted Peter at least a little rested, he didn’t want him collapsing from exhaustion. He started up the car again, mumbling about how they should get him home, as he pulled off onto the street.

Peter didn’t try to stop him, or interject. His body was heavy as he leaned back in his seat, rolling his neck as his gaze tried to focus on the lights of the city. They all fused together eventually, his eyes slowly closing despite how hard he was trying to fight it. Tony’s hand still lay comforting on his thigh, and the soft purr of the car was quite a nice background to his fading thoughts.

As the city lights began to diminish, and the car rolled forwards towards home, sleep won the battle over Peter’s body. He knew that whatever happened tomorrow, he’d made Tony proud, and really, that’s all he’d ever wanted to do.

***

Tag list: @itsmexavie @icandoakickflip @peterparker-starks

#starker #starker fanfiction #tony stark #peter parker #tony stark x peter parker #ironspider #skylar writes

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arse-crack-thistle · 3 years

Text

rwrb winterfest - day 10 - snowflakes

@rwrb-fests

in which firstprince goes to a middle school dance bc i love little alex and henry so much!!

Alex knows tonight is going to be awesome! Normally, he wouldn’t be excited for a lame middle school formal, but he’s going to ask Nora Holleran to slow dance. She’s way too smart for him, but he can make her laugh like no one else can. It sounds like a bird, and being twelve, Alex can’t resist. If she says yes, this Winter Formal nonsense will all be worth it.

Outside, the D.C. air is chilly but bearable. Alex, his lacrosse friends, and their parents stand in front of his house, about to take pictures. His mother adjusts his red striped tie as he fusses with his black curly hair. June waits inside; she’s a high school volunteer tonight—much to Alex’s protests.

He shoos his mother away, slings an arm around his friend Liam, and smiles. His parents ready the camera, and Alex thanks Jesus they never fight in public.

Just behind closed doors when they think he and June aren’t listening.

The white Christmas lights shine behind the boys. His father tells them to focus and takes the picture. It catches Alex laughing at some joke Liam told, his eyes scrunched closed.

•••

Henry wouldn’t go to this thing if his mother weren’t forcing him. She reminds him it’s good practice for his future as he heads out the door to Bea’s car.

He hates these kinds of functions and having to socialize with people he doesn’t know and couldn’t be bothered to know. Because his mother is the British Ambassador, he’s gone to a few, but he doesn’t want a career in public office like the rest of his family. The Mountchristen name means something back home—they’ve had a few MPs, secretaries, and prime ministers—but that’s not Henry. He wants a quiet life away from the fuss.

A life in which he can finally be himself. And tell the truth. The Fox side of him.

Henry misses his father more than ever as Bea drives. Thank god, she’s here and playing Sufjan Stevens to match their moods. If his mother had been appointed any later, Bea would’ve been an ocean away like Philip—not that Henry misses his posh, Oxford brother all that much.

The buttons of Henry’s Burberry suit reflect the soft yellow glow of the streetlights outside. He knows he’s overdressed and that this will be the most expensive suit in the room, but it’s what his mother picked out. Yet another thing his classmates will pick on.

Especially Alex Claremont-Diaz.

Bea wishes him luck, and Henry groans as he gets out of the car. He really doesn’t want to be here.

•••

Alex dances in the center of the gym floor with his buddies to an Imagine Dragons song. Blue and white lights shine down on them. The whole place is covered in fake snow and light blue fabric. Shimmery snowflakes dangle from the ceiling. It’s cheesy, but Alex doesn’t care because he’s having a blast.

He just hasn’t been able to talk to Nora yet.

She’s been huddled with her friends from Tech Club all night. They’re watching something on a dude’s phone, and Alex knows that’s his in. He just has to make himself move in that direction.

An eighth grader, Pez, starts a dance circle and busts a few moves in his fluorescent clothes. Alex watches and cheers him on because everyone loves Pez. But they don’t love his best friend.

Ugh, Alex can’t stand that British guy, Henry. They may not be in the same grade, but they do Model UN together, and everything he says in that dumb accent riles Alex up. Partly because the girls—and some guys—swoon over him, taking some of the spotlight from Alex, and partly because Henry’s existence just irks him.

His perfect blonde hair. His judgmental blue eyes. His rich-boy wardrobe. The fact that he gets the right answer to every question asked of him. And the fact that he rides horses—like, riding outfit and everything.

Alex hates it all.

When a slow song comes on, he goes for Nora. She looks beautiful in a pale pink dress and with her hair done up in a bun. Alex feels stupid in his black church pants and white button-up.

Why didn’t he get June to help him pick out his clothes?

He asks Nora what they’re watching, and she tells him it’s an anime and laughs at something on the screen. After an awkward pause, he stutters out an invitation to dance. Thank Jesus, she says yes.

On the dance floor, he puts his hands on her waist, and she puts hers on his shoulders, and they sway to the music. A disco ball from the center of the gym casts sparkles all over them. This is their moment.

Which is why Alex asks her to go out with him.

Nora won’t meet his eyes, and Alex knows he screwed up. They’re just friends, she tells him.

His stomach hurts.

Alex misread the situation. He could puke right now. Nothing has felt this embarrassing. Not even last year when he dove for a volleyball in P.E., smacked his face on the floor, and chipped a tooth or in second grade when he called his teacher “mom” and the entire class laughed.

Nora comments on June’s dress to move the conversation forward, but Alex just nods. They finish the dance in silence, avoiding eye contact.

Alex’s face is hot and red. He doesn’t want his friends saying anything, so as soon as the song’s over, he thanks Nora and runs out of gym to the bathroom.

•••

For the most part, Henry is ignored by his classmates, which is good. He’s left to sit by himself at one of the tables. Someone sprinkled glitter all over the tablecloth, and flecks cling to his jacket sleeves. The speakers blast him with music, and the whole event is rather annoying, especially when chaperones bother him to ask if he wants anything or to encourage him to dance. Luckily, the high school girl serving punch just gives him a cup and tells him there’s only a few more hours left until they’re free.

Pez checks up on him every once in a while, but he craves a good party wherever he goes and only stays for a few seconds. Henry doesn’t mind. He scrolls on his phone, catching up on social media and eventually settling on a new Wolfstar fanfic. He peaks up from time to time to watch Pez try to impress the punch girl, but his eyes always end up on Alex.

He moves so easily. Whether it’s shaking his hips or fist-pumping to the beat or letting his head fall back in laughter, he just seems to handle everything so carelessly, so happily.

Henry envies him—can’t stand him because of it. There’s a ping in him every time he sees Alex.

Those curls. And soft brown eyes. The undeniable charm.

He walked into a Model UN meeting in glasses once, and Henry had a coughing fit and had to leave the room.

Don’t even get him started on the Spanish.

God, Henry cannot deal with these feelings right now. And he can’t find Alex in the crowd.

He stands up. Maybe he will dance. Maybe if he tries, he can think about something else. His father would want him to try. He’d give him a pep-talk and a hug that smells like his cologne and send Henry on his way. It’s how he convinced him to try polo and ask a girl to dance at his first gala.

Maybe this is good practice. To try to do things on his own.

But as Henry approaches a girl in his English class, someone scoots out their chair and trips him.

And Henry falls face first into a pile of fake snow.

The music still plays, but the students and chaperones are silent as Henry comes up covered in white clumps. It’s worse than the glitter on his suit, and it sticks to the gel in his hair. He feels the very last thing he wants: everyone’s eyes on him.

Henry excuses himself and leaves as fast as he can, stumbling into Pez and shirking him off on the way out.

•••

Alex finally feels cool again. He splashed some water on his face, unbuttoned his top button, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. He looks impossibly chill considering he was just dumped.

Okay, not dumped. But he definitely feels better. Like Rafael Luna, his dad’s best friend. Luna carries himself with a swagger that Alex can’t resist.

After he tousles his hair one last time, Alex walks out of the bathroom, only to find Henry covered in faux snowflakes, looking like the abominable snowman from Monsters Inc. But he’s not cheerful like the yeti. He furiously swipes at his pant legs with one hand and curses at his phone in the other.

“Oh, man! Rough night, huh?” Alex says.

Henry freezes. He sizes up Alex and scowls. “Could you not?” He goes back to his phone, “Bea, just come pick me up when you get this, all right? Please,” and then hangs up.

“You’ve never looked better, honestly. I dig the winter chic vibe,” Alex teases. This is best thing that could’ve happened; his friends aren’t even going to mention the Nora thing when he gets back in the gym. For once, he’s not upset Henry has upstaged him.

Henry mumbles something and shrugs off his suit coat to wipe it down. Snow flurries from his clothing onto the cream linoleum flooring.

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘Unbelievable!’ As in, ‘Of course, the universe hates me enough to put you here right now!’” Henry’s face reddens.

Alex can’t believe this guy. He’s practically a prince! What could be wrong with his life? Well, his father’s death, but that was a few years ago.

Alex googled Henry once or maybe twice—it’s irrelevant—and read about his famous father, who is Alex’s favorite Bond, for sure.

“So you messed up your suit? Big whup. I’m sure you have hundreds just like it. If not, the Fox-Mountchristen estate could probably cover it,” Alex says, crossing his arms. He’s surprised no adults have come to check on Henry. He’s not really sure what happened, but it was probably hilarious and well-deserved.

“You insufferable prick!” Henry shouts and throws the jacket at Alex. Before he can duck, it thwacks his face. He tastes the bitter snow in his mouth.

Alex scrunches it and throws it back. “You dickish, little drama king! You can’t handle the slightest bit of imperfection, can you? Heaven forbid, you’re knocked from your pedestal, and the rest of us mortals crack up!”

He knows this is stupid; he wouldn’t want people laughing at him either, unless it was intentional. In fact, he fled before his charismatic reputation was tarnished. Henry just brings something out of him—not the worst of Alex exactly, but the fight in him. Many a Model UN debates can attest to that.

Henry turns around and slams his fist against the black lockers. He flings the coat to the floor and leans on his forearm. “You haven’t got a clue, Alex,” he says. He sounds tired.

The muffled music from the dance echoes down the hallway. Posters on the walls and lockers advertise the dance, midterm tutoring, and the school-sponsored Spring Break trip to Peru. Alex watches Henry’s back go up and down with his breaths. A toilet flushes, and the sink is run before a girl walks out of the bathroom, past the boys, without a second glance.

Henry is right: Alex doesn’t have a clue. He knows people can hide their home lives. He hasn’t even told Liam about his parents fighting. How he’s heard the word “divorce” from both of them more than once.

And he’s pretty sure losing your father is worse than that; he wouldn’t know what to do without his own, no matter how much time had passed. And then to be moved across the sea to a new school, let alone a new country.

Damn. Alex sucks. And now he has to do something that would’ve made him throw up yesterday.

“Henry,” he says, “I’m sorry.”

•••

Henry can’t believe this—any of it.

Firstly, Alex Claremont-Diaz comes out of the bathroom as if he knew his nemesis was out there and wanted to catch him off-guard with his beautifully disheveled look. Henry blushes at the thought.

Secondly, after a row of which no teacher heard apparently, the aforementioned Alex Claremont-Diaz apologizes for the things he said. “Even though some of it was true,” he clarifies. Henry knows he’s right.

Thirdly, he and the godforsaken Alex Claremont-Diaz have been sitting next to each other on the floor for the past five minutes, just talking. Occasionally, Alex’s arm brushes against his and sends a tingle up his back.

If Henry didn’t know he was gay after consuming hours of Drarry and Wolfstar content, he knows now. As in, he finally realizes why he always looks for Alex in every room and why that boy gets under his skin so easily.

He definitely cannot go to a lacrosse game, ever. He might die.

The bright bulbs from the bathroom and the blue hue from the gym doors’ windows light the otherwise dim hallway. Henry can make out the Coldplay song coming from the dance and plays the piano chords on his knees. The smell of old sweat and cleaner lingers in the air.

Henry likes that Bea insisted on a normal American education for the two of them and that his mother actually agreed; he just doesn’t enjoy the smells that accompany the experience. Or the horrid cafeteria food, for that matter. He tells Alex as much.

“Totally,” Alex says. “It must’ve been hard moving here. Even if I think you and your uppity family are ridiculous, leaving your home behind would suck for anyone.”

“Yes, it does. But Mum got this great job, which she wasn’t going to take until my grandmother and my brother Philip encouraged her to. ‘You need a fresh start,’ they said. She agreed, though I think her attitude is more about survival rather than actual happiness,” Henry says. “I, for one, would prefer to be home where Dad taught me to play cricket on the back lawn.”

He sighs. Alex doesn’t need to hear this, and giving him more information to use against him or to poke fun of is a disastrous idea. But it does feel good to talk about his father with someone who doesn’t know him and barely knows Henry.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Alex says. “I looked him up once, and he seems pretty cool.”

“He was, yes.” If Henry lets himself get too close to the cliff of grief, he’ll jump off and never be able to recompose himself, so he looks at Alex. “You looked me up?”

Alex sits up straight. “No, no! Your father!”

“You looked me up.” Henry smirks. His stomach flutters, and he doesn’t know what that means.

“I wanted to know what your deal was!” Alex says. “It’s not weird like that! I wasn’t stalking you or whatever.”

Henry laughs hard for the first time in a while. “I can’t believe I have enchanted you this much, Alex. What must I have done to peak your interest? Was it the defeat in during the foreign aid debate?”

“Okay, one, don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart,” Alex says, holding up a finger to silence Henry’s laughter, which it doesn’t. “And two, you were arguing on the behalf of an imperialist, asshole country. How was I, the humble yet fiery Mexican delegate, supposed to get you off your high horse after you started barking about your country’s economy?”

“Accept that I am the better diplomat.”

“I accept that you’re the bigger—what’s that British word? Wanker.”

Alex shoves him, but Henry shoves him right back. The two laugh together, and as it fades, Henry thinks that maybe they can finally get along—be friends, even. Though, he doesn’t know if that’ll make his heart race more or less when Alex is around.

“Want to go back in there?” Alex asks. “I know you’re still covered in fluff, but it’ll add to the ambiance.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Just then, Henry’s phone rings, and Bea’s name flashes on the screen. When he answers, she tells him she’s outside. Henry looks at Alex. While he has relaxed since the incident because of him, he’s not quite ready to face the rest of the school.

But the hesitation is duly noted and will be thoroughly examined tonight as he tries and fails to fall asleep.

He tells Bea he’ll be out in a minute and hangs up. “My sister’s here,” he says.

Dare Henry say Alex looks a little disappointed? The space between his dark eyebrows crinkles, and he shoves his hands in his pockets after they both stand up.

“Well,” Alex says, “maybe you and I could prepare for the meeting on refugees together when we get back from winter break.”

Henry blinks. “All right. We could do it at mine if you like.”

“Sure. I’m dying to see the palace,” he says. “Let me just get your number.”

After they exchange phone numbers, Henry watches Alex walk back into the gym. Thank god, he isn’t wearing better trousers, or Henry might’ve blushed. Actually, it doesn’t matter; Henry feels his checks get hot.

Outside, real snow dusts the school’s steps. Henry spots Bea’s headlights and walks to the car, enjoying the cool night air. He slips inside as his sister asks what the hell happened.

He knows it’s not the question she meant, but in his head he answers, “Alex Claremont-Diaz.”

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blizzardfluffykpop · 3 years

Text

Senior Math

Summary: If there is one rule to high school, it’s you don’t miss PTG parties.

Do or Not Series

Slice of life and fluff

Word Count: 2,517

Kino [Hyunggu] X Reader

[Mentions: Seungkwan and Moonbin as best friends and Myungjun, Jinwoo, and Jinho as close friends]

The days grow longer, and I know summer is just around the corner. This summer is different since this is my last year in high school. It feels bittersweet to watch it all go, to start anew and leave my childhood behind. I doodle in my notebook during math class since senior math sucks. I should have taken college prep. But at least all the funny kids and my friends are in this class. That is the plus side, but when Mr. Davis yells that there are thirty problems for tonight. I want to curl up and die. Can graduation come any sooner? But at the same time, slow its roll? Like there is no happy medium, and oh god, isn’t prom coming up? I completely forgot about that function, a good thing that it’s not for another month.

I start working on them just as the bell rings, and I hear the books slam close around me. Good thing we get to come back up here for another period. Or I would have it out with Mr. Davis. Seungkwan and Moonbin meet me at my desk. “Let’s go bitches!” Seungkwan yells at least Mr. Davis is out. I don’t need detention. He might force me to stay extra days, and I am not cool with that. We laugh, link arms, and rush down to the best period of the day.

When we get our food Moonbin draws in closer to us, “Did you guys hear?” I let out a ‘hmm?’ and Seungkwan waits expectantly, “That PTG is throwing a party?” We gasp, “No way,...” There is only one group that can throw a party. And when they do, they set the whole school ablaze. “This year it’s only by invitation. Since what happened last year.” Oh yeah, a few people got a day in the cell for being drunk and or hosting a party with underage drinking. Seungkwan whispers hastily, “How did you hear?” Moonbin smirks, “Myungjun invited me, and he said I could invite you two, and that’s it.” We exchange a look, and I look down at my food. “I don’t know,...” Seungkwan nudges me, “Come on! It’s our last year! Let’s live it up!” While I’m not one for parties, I can’t say no to the two puppy dog eyes directed at me.

Moonbin picks up Seungkwan and me with the radio blasting, and Seungkwan goes, “What if I car surf?!” I gasp, “Well, what are you waiting for?!” He grins, and on cue, the Beach Boys come on. He climbs up through the passenger window and up to the roof. Moonbin and I laugh, and Seungkwan is screaming. Out of joy, I’m not sure, but he hops back in pretty quick. “(Y/n)! It’s your turn!” My eyes nearly pop out of my head, but I can’t help but shrug and roll the window down. I sit on the window hole and pull myself up onto the roof. When I feel the air under my arms nothing, and everything feels real at the same time. As I spin around and act like I’m riding the waves going down and low and up high. When he comes to a red light, I lay down on the roof and take in this feeling of euphoric anxiety. I’m a senior, and these are some of my last high school experiences. Soon these memories will all be distant and only exist in my dreams. I shake those thoughts off and slide back in through the open window. Moonbin goes, “Grab the wheel, Seungkwan, it’s my turn.” My eyes nearly pop out of my head, again, as Seungkwan takes over. He has a hang of it as Moonbin jumps up on top, and I can hear his laughter. He seems to be enjoying it more than us. “Do you know where PTG’s house is?” Seungkwan lets out a hum and goes, “Roughly?” Moonbin yells, “Turn right!” *let’s go surfing now everyone is learning how, come on and safari with me*. Seungkwan turns right, and we pull up to the house in a matter of moments. Moonbin flips off the car, and Seungkwan and I laugh, “You would think he’s drunk already.” I tell Seungkwan, and he laughs. We exit, link arms, and brace ourselves for a fun night.

Wooseok opens the door and invites us in, and the music is already thumping through my soul. We make our way in and find Myungjun and Jinwoo smoking and talking amongst themselves. The three of us grab a drink and join them. “I didn’t expect to see all three of you.” I roll my eyes, “Yes, Jinwoo, sometimes I like to enjoy myself.” He smirks, “I was talking about Seungkwan, but hey.” I shake my head and laugh as the five of us get up and walk around after they put out their cigarettes. We see Jinho, and he grins at us, “Ahh, my favorite five.” Seungkwan goes, “Have you seen Hyunggu?” He scrunches his nose before his eyes come alight. If there is one member to visit during a PTG party, it’s Hyunggu. Not only is he good at party games, but he’s also pretty attractive. It’s not that I have had a major crush on him since eighth grade and the whole group likes to tease me about it or anything. Ever since I let it slip in my Sophomore year, they have teased me about it.

Maybe it was from the times when I went over to his house to do a school project. And we stayed up the whole night talking and sharing music. I could never forget the feeling of him telling me his favorite song and turning it up on his speakers. Luckily his room was in the basement so his parents couldn’t care less if his music was loud. Or it was the way we snuck glances at each other as we texted each other in class. Or the way he carried himself, so freely yet reserved. You wouldn’t know he was loud and funny until he was around his friends. It was something I adored about him. After a while, we stopped texting each other, and things went back to how they used to be with me, watching him from afar and wondering what a relationship with him would entail. And him, looking handsome as ever, until one day we no longer shared classes. But I still catch glimpses of him in the hallways, and my heart beats a little faster each time.

Myungjun elbows me, and I nearly want to hurl him across the room. I wish I had detention with Mr. Davis to avoid this. No, those end by five, and this party didn’t start until seven. I follow the five of them up the stairs. When we reach his room, my jaw nearly drops to the floor. He has pink hair now,... No one should look that good in pink, but oh god, how he does. I close my jaw back up as I hear, “Now, what we’re gonna play tonight!” We all hoot and holler. There are at least twenty people in this bedroom. “Is seven minutes in heaven!” That’s when I see the post-it notes getting passed around. I shrug and write my name down at worst, I end up with someone I don’t know. Or I end up with an ex, but hopefully, I end up with one of my friends. At least I can talk to them and fake a few moans and hair ruffles to get a good laugh.

“ALRIGHT! All the names are in the bowl! Let’s see who we pull!” He pulls the names out and goes, “Myungjun! And!” We all give a drumroll, “Jinwoo!” Moonbin and I boo, “They’re already dating!” The two of them laugh, “Jealous?!” Everyone laughs as they go hand in hand into the closet. “Maybe I am,” Moonbin says, which makes Seungkwan and I laugh. “Good thing there’s a lot of closets in this house~.” Jinho tells us, and I blink at him, “You mean there is a chance that everyone is gonna go.” “Everyone who put their names in the hat.” I shrug, “Should have expected that. It’s been a while since I went to a PTG party.” Jinho smiles, “We all know who you’re hoping to be with~” I glare, “You guys are awful. We all know who you want, Jinho.” He squints, “Who?” We all let out, “Bomi.” He gasps, “Be quiet! She might hear you!” He waves his hands in front of himself. We roll our eyes, and Wooseok joins us on the bed, “Hey guys!” Seungkwan ruffles his hair, “Good evening, any luck?” He groans, “No, hopefully, my name gets pulled soon. I’m tired!” We laugh at him, and Hyunggu pulls out the next name, “Moonbin and Seungkwan!” I whine, and they shrug, they follow each other into a closet, and I lay back on the bed, “Well, now it’s just us three.” Jinho’s name gets called with Bomi’s immediately, “Just you two, actually!” He says with a skip in his step, "Lucky!" Both Wooseok and I whine.

When Moonbin and Seungkwan return they are shocked to see me still lying there, all by myself. Seeing as Wooseok got paired up with a name I didn’t quite catch. “What did you guys do?” I ask teasingly, “To be honest, we were playing, 'would you rather.'” I shake my head, “Yep, that’s my best friends. They have the opportunity to leave something in a closet behind, and they play ‘would you rather’.” They laugh, and Seungkwan goes, “Yeah, no, I’d much rather kiss a frog.” Moonbin ‘ribbits’ in return, and I laugh. Seungkwan rolls his eyes, “So how many people are left?” I shrug, “Like ten?” Bomi and Jinho never returned, and we can only assume what they are doing right now.

“And last but not least, is (Y/n) and I!” I gasp, “You heard that too?” They both smirk and nod. I get up my nerves shaking me to the core. And there is Hyunggu not too much further in front of me. He grabs my hand and leads me to the farthest door. When he shuts the door, he goes, “You know I always thought you were super attractive.” My chin drops to the floor for the second time tonight. “I always thought the same about you,...” The light that seeps in from under the door barely illuminates our shoes. But it’s not like I needed more detail. I already memorized his outfit, and god, he looks way too good in soft cardigans. I take a step closer and reach my hands up to his face, I cup his cheeks, and he grabs my arms and pulls me up against him. And like in my dreams, we’re making out. His lips are so soft against mine. My hands leave his cheeks, and I snake my hands underneath his cardigan and pull him closer. His hands find their way into my hair and play with it. I let out a little moan, and I feel him smirk against my mouth. I smirk back and push him back against the wall and bring my hands up to his shoulders. Holding him against me, and when the door to the closet opens, it feels like it’s too soon. No, this is just like my dreams. I wake up before we end up together. Because I know when I walk out of this closet, kissing Hyunggu will be no more than a figment of my imagination. Although it’s the best damn makeout session, I have ever had. I hear the gasps, “I told you he liked (Y/n)!” Seungkwan says and hits Moonbin upside the head. Did they bet on this? I wouldn't put it past them. We slowly untangle ourselves from each other. He smiles at me, and we walk out of the closet.

I hear moans from the farthest room on the left, and I realize that we assumed correctly about Bomi and Jinho. Good for them, I think to myself as I part from Hyunggu. What does this mean? Are we going to pursue something, or are we just going to let this memory fade to dust? I find myself laying my head against Seungkwan’s shoulder and sipping from a new solo cup. “Do you think he meant anything about that? Or was it just the heat of the moment?” Moonbin rubs my shoulder, “The only way to know is to ask.” I groan, “That’s not the answer I’m looking for.” Seungkwan groans, “It’s the only one we can provide.” I groan, “I know!”

That Monday, he comes strutting into Mr. Davis’ fifth-period class. I feel Moonbin kick me under the table, and I look up to yell at him. When I catch Hyunggu’s eyes and he waves, and I wave back. Ugh, this is suffering, but I’m happy about it. How does that make any sense? Mr. Davis dismisses him and tells him he’ll have the grades in by Wednesday. The pink blur makes my heart swoon as he walks out with a pip in his step. I need to do something about these feelings, does he like me or not? I need a daisy,… Which leads to me cutting out a daisy instead of doing homework and ripping off the paper petals. I end up on ‘he loves me’, and I take that as a sign of hope. When the bell rings, I link my arms with my two friends, and we head to lunch.

We sit at our table idly chatting about prom and the end of the school year. When I catch sight of the pink blur, yet this time, he’s standing across from where I’m sitting. I raise my eyebrows, and he smiles, “Hey,... Can I talk to you about the other day?” I shrug, and Seungkwan pats my thigh and wishes me luck. I follow him outside of the cafeteria, and he smiles. “I,... uh,... like you.” I gulp and rub the back of my neck nervously before I confess, “I like you too, Hyunggu.” His eyes light up, and he asks, “Would you want to go out with me?” I grin and nod, “Tomorrow at 7?” I nod again with a bigger smile on my face, and he walks me back over to my lunch table. When he leaves, the two of them look at me expectantly, and I tell them everything.

The date went fantastic we went to a café together before we went to a house show. We jumped around to the music and laughed between sets. And a week later, I asked him to prom. He was blushing like a bright red cherry, and my face was just as red as he agreed. During the first slow dance of the night, I asked him to be mine. Who would have known that Hyunggu liked me back and that we would end up dancing the night away in each other’s arms? Not me, but I'm so glad we're together now.

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itisannak · 4 years

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Let the sunshine in (Calum Hood Fluff)

Summary: Calum helps his wildflower feel better after a bad grade. (Request) (Words: 1.6k)

(3rd Person's POV) Calum absolutely hates silence in his house. He used to be ok with it when living alone, but since his girlfriend moved in with him, he became a fond lover of noise in the room. (Y/N) could light up the room, give life to everything, a superpower to his opinion. But it has been up to a week now since the house has sunken in silence, deafening silence. Along with her mood, everyone else's seems to have become blue, heavy, which makes no sense to him. Even Duke seems to mirror (Y/N)'s behavior, the usually energetic puppy now looking around in sadness all day.

More than the silence, Calum hates that he doesn't know what causes her to be so sad. His lovely wildflower is wilting and he has no idea why. He has tried to make her feel better, but as many times as he tried, that many times he has failed epically. His first guess was that fans have given her crap about whatever, so he went into a deep Twitter searching, looking up her name, hashtags about her, anything really, all possible combinations. He did the same on Instagram, snooping around fan pages, tags, tagged photos, but no luck on finding anything. Like everyone else in his life, his fans seem to adore his girlfriend, which is no surprise to him. Everyone loves (Y/N), and most of all, him. Then he called Crystal, Sierra, KayKay, (Y/B/F/N), almost all of (Y/N)'s friends, in hopes they would know something he didn't. But again, no one knew anything about (Y/N)'s sudden burnout, so he felt helpless.

(Y/N) has made herself one with the bed. She has been staring at the ceiling for as long as she can remember. She can't remember the last time she showered, only that she forced herself to get into the shower cabin. Her days have been a blur for the past week. It's not that she doesn't want to get up and go back to normal, but her body seems to defy her mind. It's cozy on this bed, she is safe from failure and disappointment there, why would she want to move?

"(Y/N), baby..." Calum calls from the door of their bedroom, but she just waves at him, no response. Calum walks in slowly as if moving faster would scare her away like a hurt kitten. "Hey, honey." He greets her, sitting on the edge of their bed. He leaves the bouquet on the bedside table, before leaning down to press a kiss on her forehead. He knows flowers always cheer his wildflower up. "It is pretty dark in here. How about we let the sunshine in? There is a lovely day outside." He says softly, stroking her hair. "I don't want to." She mumbles sadly, making him sigh a little frustrated. "Baby... What is going on?" He asks, looking at her as softly as she could. "Nothing. I am fine." She replies, but that doesn't convince her boyfriend much. "(Y/N), you are not fine. What is bothering that pretty mind of yours?" He asks her again, only causing her to turn her back to him. "I'll put these in some water." He sighs defeated, getting up from the bed. He doesn't want to push her, they never had the type of relationship where they needed to push each other to open up.

She feels horrible for shutting him down, but she is scared that if he knew, he would lose all his admiration. The thing Calum always brags about his girlfriend is how smart she is, how her brain is the prettiest thing on her. So, she couldn't risk letting him down, especially after she let herself down. She passed each and every one of her classes at once, with great grades too. And now that she is a breath shy from her degree, she fucked up a whole assignment, in one of the toughest courses of her final semester. And she fucked up a lot, only scoring a dooming 33% on the whole assignment. The only way she will be able to graduate with her degree in the upcoming finals month is by getting a nearly unachievable 90% on the finals. It is futile even trying, she knows she can't do that, so she just... gives up.

Calum decides that enough is enough; he is going to do everything to get his girlfriend out of the darkness. He scrolls through his phone, finding the song he is going to blast through the house for her. I've got sunshine on a cloudy day The music blasts through his speaker, and he burst through the door, going straight for the curtains. He opens them in a swift move, letting the rays of sun glaze the room.

When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May (Y/N) is looking at Calum confused, trying to decipher what is going on. Calum picks the flowers out of the bouquet, throwing them around the room. He reaches his hand out for her to take, but she throws herself back onto the soft mattress before he could help her up. But Calum is stubborn, so he takes her hand in his and pulls her up gently. I guess you'd say, What can make me feel this way? My girl Talking 'bout my girl He sings the part at the top of his lungs, dancing around the bedroom with her. For the first time in a while, she lets out a laugh, a laugh that fills the room and his heart.

I've got so much honey the bees envy me He cradles her face, looking at her with his most charming smile. She laughs again, burying her face in his neck. I've got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees He stretches his arm out letting her unfold away from him, before twirling her back to his chest.

I guess you'd say, What can make me feel this way? My girl

Talking 'bout my girl

He swings her to the rhythm, which only makes her giggle harder. Oh, how he has missed that sound. "There she is... My wildflower. My pretty girl, my happy girl..." He comments as the song plays in the background. "You are the sweetest boy." She comments, smiling at him before bringing her head to rest on his chest. "What is happening to you, my love? You can always talk to me, you know that..." He reminds her, stroking the small of her back. "I can't..." She mumbles, forcing herself not to start crying again. "Nothing you say to me is going to make me love you less. Cross my heart and hope to die." He looks her in the eye, crossing his fingers over his heart. "Calum..." She protests. "I love you, (Y/N). I will love you after you tell me whatever it is that makes you sad, that makes you... Well, less you." He assures her. (Y/N) takes a deep breath, nodding her head before taking a step back, looking at her feet as she prepares herself to share her secret with him.

"I fucked up. Badly. I won't graduate this summer. I won't receive my degree, because I am stupid enough to fuck up the assignment of the hardest course this semester. I will fail because of that. I will fail unless I get a 90% or above on the finals. Which is impossible, because the material is harder to read than Aramaic." She finally admits, sitting down at the end of the mattress. "Baby... Why didn't you tell me earlier?" He asks her, kneeling before her. "You are always boasting about me being smart, an overachiever, an honor student. 'My girlfriend is going to graduate top of her class.' All that. I didn't want to disappoint you by telling you about my failure." She explains to him, making him sigh in realization. "First of all, you have nothing to be ashamed of. It is just a bad grade. Second, if there is anyone who can score 90%, that person is you. I've seen you working, I've seen you studying. You are a fucking boss when it comes to that. And last, but not least, you will never disappoint me. Even if you try your hardest to, you will never disappoint me." He runs his thumb over his thigh in soothing circles, trying to meet her gaze by tilting his head. "I am going to fail." She utters, tearing up. He wipes away her tears, leaning closer to kiss her cheeks. "You might. But that means nothing. You will resit the assignment, or the exam, or both, and you will be superb at it. But before that, you are going to aim for that 100%, because that's what you always do. And I will help you read for the exam. I know I can't help much, but I will be your study buddy. We are going to fight. And I promise, when you get that passing grade, I won't even say I told you so." He says cheerfully, making her smile. "I adore you." She states, covering his hands with hers. "I know, baby. I adore you too. Now, let's get you to shower, put some food in your stomach, and then make a schedule for studying." He suggests, pulling her on her feet.

Calum proved he is a man of his word. So, when she got that 100% on her finals, he didn't tell her 'I told you so'. He only smirked knowingly, and hugged his wildflower, congratulating her on proving the voices in her head absolutely wrong.

This story is actually inspired by me nearly fucking everything up. I did get a 30something percent on the assignment of the hardest course on my final semester and really went through a phase of giving up, but I also did get the 100% mark on the final exam, so I ended up passing the course and getting my degree with honors. I hope you enjoy this story.

My Masterlist

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samthemarvelfan · 4 years

Text

Hard Day’s Night: One Shot

Summary: CEO!Bucky is a dick. He takes out his frustration on the one person he shouldn’t have. Honestly? The dude just needs to get laid.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC, feat: Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: Angst, Smut!

A/N: This is just a small idea that hit me outta no where! I hope you enjoy! 18+ please!

Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 @warmvanillafeels @star-spangled-beard-burn @ravenesque @pinknerdpanda @wintersoldierissucharide @snapcapquartet @ellen-reincarnated1967 @unlistedpond @my-drowning-in-time @supernaturalwintersoldier @kimvmarvel @roseboho @disaffectedbarnes (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!)

Your heels echoed through the halls of the empty lobby. A sound you’ve come to enjoy, because it meant you can enjoy your morning in peace.

It was calm—serene, even. The best part of getting here a full hour before your co-workers; having your coffee in peace and watch the sun come up over the Hudson.

You’d ditched the heels the second you got to your floor, no way you’d suffer in those things and not have anyone around to see you in them.

The ‘refreshment room’, as you’d been instructed to call it, was always fully stocked with snacks, essentials, and coffee. You hummed to yourself, deciding on an iced vanilla latte. Being sure to stir it carefully, not wanting to splash it on your white top.

You were about to take that first delightful sip, when you heard someone walk in behind you.

“Would you look at that, just the person I wanted to see.” The voice called from behind you.

You have got to be shitting me. You grumbled internally.

Clearing your throat, you turn around, plastering on the fakest work smile you could.

“Mr. Barnes, I didn’t expect to see you so early.” You greet, smoothing our your black pencil skirt.

James Barnes was the foremost author of the decade. 12 Novels, a TV series, and a screenplay—I guess the guy liked to keep busy.

“Could’ve fooled me.” He said curtly, gesturing to you stocking-clad feet.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks with embarrassment. “Oh. I’m sorry, Sir. I’m just usually alone this early and I thought—“

“You thought you’d treat my office like it’s your home?” He quipped.

You shook your head quickly, “No, no I was only—“

“Forget it. Listen, these sales reports? They’re horrendous. Who taught you how to summarize an account?” He was already in a mood...and it wasn’t even 7:30.

You cleared your throat in an attempt to control your temper. “To be fair, I’m not an account executive. I was filling in for Sam, and you asked me to do them.”

He scoffed, “Oh I see, it my fault you’re incompetent.”

Your jaw dropped.

“Incompetent? I do every assignment you ask of me, most of which are above my pay grade. I do them to the best of my ability, and when something isn’t up to the ‘Barnes Standard’, I’m chewed out for it. Regardless if I’m even trained in the job or not.”

He threw the file on the table next to you, before gripping the back of a chair, leaning forward on it.

“Is that how you see things? Tell me then, Miss Monroe, what would you like? Me to hold your hand through every aspect of your job? Or maybe just do your job for you.” He said sarcastically.

That’s. It.

“How about you learn how to treat your employees! Maybe then you wouldn’t go through so many! How many secretaries have you been through this year alone, hm? ‘Cause I’ve met at least 6.”

You couldn’t stop the word vomit. James Barnes was an awful boss. He was crass and arrogant, and looked down on everyone.

But he pays well. You thought to yourself.

After watching you for a moment, Mr. Barnes suddenly stood straight up, grabbing the file from the table top.

“You can go home. Your skills aren’t needed today.” He spat.

A pit opened in your stomach. Did you just get fired? For speaking your mind?

Time to grovel.

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. I can—“

“You can go home.” He said, turning his back and leaving you.

Your legs felt like they were going to give out on you. You had one of the most respected authors as a boss, a job most people would kill for, and you couldn’t just keep your mouth shut.

“Fuck.” You whispered with tears in your eyes.

You didn’t even grab your drink. You just picked up your heels and your bag, and did the proverbial walk of shame to the elevators.

“Just put a fucking dress on and come out.” Wanda shouted through your phone’s speakers.

“Wanda, I’m not in the mood! For all I know I was just fired from a very well paying job. All because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.” You groaned, flopping backward on your bed.

She sighed, “Even if you were, who cares? Do you really want to keep working for that asshole?”

She was right. Was money really worth getting verbally accosted everyday?

“Fine. I’ll get dressed, but I reserve the right to wallow if I get an email telling me I’ve been canned.” You bargain.

Wanda laughed, “Deal! Now go get ready. Wear a dress. The navy one!”

You pressed end, and stood from your bed.

That navy dress Wanda mention was a showstopper, but was it really pub appropriate?

Velvet, long sleeves, a deep v neck to accentuate your curves. Pair it with black heeled booties and you felt unstoppable.

Hair curled, burgundy lips, and the right perfume. You made a mental note to thank Wanda for pulling you out of your funk.

“Two more, please!” Wanda shouted at the very attractive bar tender.

The pub was full of people and the music was blasting through the retro jukebox perched against the wall.

“Thank you for making me do this.” You say to her.

She smiled, “I know you, don’t I? I know when you need a push in the right direction.”

The bartender returned with your shots of tequila, and you all too quickly downed them.

“I’m a good fucking employee.” You slur, feeling the effects of your 3 previous shots.

She nods, “I know! I mean, I don’t know...but I bet you are! He’s crazy, to not see that.”

You were about to reply, when you see a man looking at Wanda. His eyes flitting between her and smiling shyly at his drink.

“I’m going to go down to the other end of the bar, and I’m gonna order a beer. It’s probably gonna take a loooong time.” You say dramatically.

“What?” She asks confused.

You nod your head behind you. “He’s cute. And he definitely thinks your cute. Don’t worry, I’m only a dozen bar stools away.” You wink, stumbling off the stool you’re currently perched on.

The other end of the bar is further than you thought, but thankfully, there was one seat left open.

“Can I sit here?” You ask the person beside it.

They paid you no mind, “Go ahead.” He grumbled.

You glanced at the bartender, “Beer. Bottle, not a glass, please.”

The person next to you scoffed.

“Something funny?” You ask.

He laughed again, genuinely. “That’s my order too.” He replied without looking at you.

You stare a bit longer than would be soberly required. When his featured start to seem familiar. You quickly turn back to face the bar.

Not here. He can’t be here.

“I was wondering when you’d recognize me.” Mr. Barnes said causally.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Of all the fucking bars in Manhattan, he chooses this one?

“Sorry, I’ve just never seen you outside of work. How long have you been here?” You asked, praying he’d only just arrived.

He sipped his beer, “Oh I think I arrived around shot number two.” He smiled.

James Barnes smiled.

“You saw that, huh?” You ask, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks.

He nodded, fiddling with his bottle.

“Figured your day musta been pretty rough when I saw number four.” His voice was somber, almost ashamed.

“Mr. Barnes, I—“

“Bucky. Please, we’re not in the office.” He said, finishing the last of his beer.

You smiled shyly. “Speaking of...” you sipped at your drink, “Am I...did you...was I—“

“Fired?” He asked.

You nod.

Bucky -gosh that’s weird to say- laughed, “No. I just wanted you to stew in fear for a little bit.”

Typical James Buchanan Barnes. “That’s kind of you.” You seethe.

He put a hand on your back. “Relax. I realized I was being an asshole about 3 minutes after those elevator doors closed, and I knew you wouldn’t answer if I called.”

He raised a hand in the bartender’s direction, and in seconds had another beer. “I know I’m...difficult at best. That’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have taken my frustrations out on you. I’m sorry.”

Bucky’s hand slid from your shoulder back to the beer in front of him.

You nod at his sentiment, “Thank you for saying that. I’d thought I’d get an email telling me to pick up my things.” A nervous laugh escaped you.

He shook his head, “God, no. I don’t think that office could run without you. Logistical Liaison is a made up position, but I invented it for a reason. I need someone who knows how to run things when I lose control.”

Bucky tipped the bottle towards you, “and that’s you, Ella.” He hesitated, “Can I call you that?”

You giggle, and nod. “Like you said, we’re out of the office.”

A silence fell between the two of you. It was comfortable. Surprisingly comfortable.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Bucky suddenly spoke. It was a hushed tone, meant only for you.

“Oh yeah?” You replied.

He nodded, “I wanted to say that a lot earlier, but then it would look like all I was doing was hitting on my employee.”

“Wouldn’t want that, would we?” You quipped.

Was he flirting? Were you flirting?

His eyebrows raised in agreement as he nursed his beer. “No we would not.”

The two of you had 3 more drinks between you; a beer and jack and coke for Mr—Bucky, and a Jameson on the rocks for you.

Now you stood on the brisk Manhattan streets, waiting for a cab.

“I gotta say Ella, you’re so different. You’re much different than I’d thought you’d be.” He said, clearly feeling the effects of the booze.

You surprisingly weren’t as drunk as you’d usually be at this point. Perks of eating pizza before going out.

“You’ve thought about me, huh?” You ask slyly.

Bucky’s cheeks redden. “I might have. You're so kind. You’re kind to everyone at that godforsaken office. You help anyone who needs it and you’re always professional, no matter the circumstances. You’re a good person. I know you are.” He thumb swipes tenderly over your cheek.

Now it was your turn to be timid. “And you, Mr. Barnes, have a way with words.” You smile, playfully slapping your clutch against his shoulder.

Bucky flagged a taxi down, “Come on, share my cab. I don’t want you going home alone like this.” He offers.

You nod, agreeing you’re probably not in the best shape to be alone in a cab at damn near midnight.

After giving the cab driver your address, you relax, leaning against Bucky’s shoulder.

“This was fun. I’m glad I ran into you.” He said lowly.

You glance up at him, “I never thought I’d say this, but me too. I had fun, and bonus, I’m not fired!” You jest, and share a laugh.

A short while later, the cab pulled up in front of your brownstone, and Bucky helps you out.

“Well, this is me.” You say, sadness coating your words.

Bucky nods, “I’m kinda bummed. I don’t want this to end.”

You let out a small breath.

Now or never, Ella. You think to yourself.

“It doesn’t have too.” You say boldly.

He looks at you, a new glimmer in his eye, before waving the cab on, sending the driver away.

“Guess I’m not always professional after all.” You say, shyness making its way back into you voice.

He put his hand on the small of your back as you walked up the steps to your front door. “I think I can make an exception for tonight.”

You pushed the door open. “Just tonight?” You ask.

Bucky looks at you, slipping his hand around your waist. “That’s up to you, Doll.”

Your back pressed against the front door. His nose nuzzled yours. “Are we doing this? Cause I’ll be honest, If we do what I think were gonna do, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

His warm lips moved to you neck, leaving bites and wet kisses up to your jaw.

“James.” You breathe.

This seems to work him up. His mouth moves to yours, soft at first. Longing.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging at it slightly. Bucky takes this as an okay for his hands to roam your figure.

“I’ve watched you.” He says between kisses. “The way you float around that office.”

Kiss.

“I’ve seen you look at me, too.”

Kiss.

“The way you bite that lip. Mmm, I think I want a turn.” He nips at you again.

You push off the wall and tug his hand to follow you.

The door to your bedroom is pushed open agonizingly slow. You get the impression he doesn’t like being teased, so of course you have to tease him.

Bucky’s hands are on you again, finding the zipper to your dress. It hits the floor and he steps back, admiring the view.

“You’re killing me, Sugar.” He moans, seeing you topless.

Heels kicked off, you crawl backwards into your bed. He ditches his shirt and pants, and he crawls up your body.

“Can I taste you?” He asks seductively.

Your eyes meet his; cerulean pools of lust drawn you into him.

“Yes. God, yes.” You beg.

He smirks. His lips attaching to the skin above your breast, before taking your nipple into his mouth.

You let out a feral moan, “Oh.”

His lips trace a line down your torso, stopping above you panties.

“Now who’s teasing who?” You breathe.

In seconds, your aching heat was exposed to him. “Baby, baby, baby.” He whined.

Bucky attached his mouth to your throbbing clit, sucking it gently.

“Fuck.” You groan. Grinding your hips upwards.

He puts his hands on your belly. “Don’t move.”

You’re panting, gripping the bedsheets. “James...Oh my God I’m—I’m.”

“Let go,” he coos, “I’ve got you, Sugar.”

At his behest, you come undone. An explosion of ecstasy exploding in your belly.

“Come up here.” You pant.

Bucky smirks as he attaches his mouth to yours.

You press your hands against his chest urging him to lay on his back.

In a fluid motion, your straddling him. Grinding your heat onto his cock.

“You’re a little tease, you know that? I should punish you.” He nips at your breast.

You smirk, lifting yourself just enough for him to slide into you. He was buried to the hilt when he grunted into your ear.

“So wet. So tight. So perfect.”

You rode him like there was no tomorrow. Feeling that familiar burst building in your abdomen.

Bucky lifted you from him, knocking you to your knees and slipping in from behind you.

“James.” You moan.

“I know. C’mon Doll, give me one more. Together.”

He pounded you harder and faster, chasing his own release. Bucky snaked a hand between the two of you, fingering your clit.

“I’m gonna cum. Oh my God, I’m cumming!” You shout.

Bucky’s groans became rhythmic, matching his strokes. You came—hard. Feeling the his warmth spill into you as he lay his chest against your back.

You both flop back. Panting like you’d run a marathon.

“Holy shit...” you breathe.

Bucky leaned over and kissed your head.

“I think I realized why I was such a miserable bastard.” He jokes between breaths.

“Oh yeah?” You ask.

He nods, “I needed to get laid, and I needed it to be you.”

You leaned over and kissed him. “Well, what’s gonna happen on Monday?”

“Based on that? I should fucking promote you.” He jokes.

You slap his chest. “I’m serious! I don’t want this to get weird.”

He grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing it softly.

“It won’t. I promise. In all honesty, I had planned on asking you out at some point—this kinda just happened first.”

You looked up at him as he closed his eyes peacefully. He really was handsome; a tortured writer in his prime.

“Ask me.” You say suddenly.

Bucky opens one eye. “What?”

“Ask me. Ask me out.” You urge happily.

He looks at you for a moment, before smiling wide. “Miss Monroe, would you like to go out to dinner sometime?”

You leaned on your elbows, kissing his lips longingly.

“I would love to Mr. Barnes. I have to make sure my boss doesn’t need me to work overtime. He’s a real hard ass, ya know.”

Bucky chuckled, “Is he? Might have to knock some sense into him.”

A smirk lands on your lips, and you wink. “Just make sure you leave his mouth alone, that’s precious cargo.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic

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