#i figure get all pages kinda done enough and then finish them all together in order to maintain as much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

Text

Bring It On Home

Summary: After one of her regular customers catches her boss stealing her tips, the reader gets a job from Jensen. She figures he’s just being a nice guy but after a run in with a stranger they both learn exactly what they really are to one another...

Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader

Word Count: 10,500ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of death/drug use/smut/scary situations, fluff

A/N: Felt like putting a little spin on this one! Enjoy!

______

“Mr. Ackles,” you smirked as he wandered up to the counter with a big smile. “I thought you told me not to sell you anymore donuts. I thought you were slimming down for your next role.”

“Oh, I never said such a thing,” he smirked. “You got any of those maple cinnamon creme filled ones left?”

“Looks like we got one left,” you said. He set his starbucks cup and sunglasses down on the counter and pulled out his wallet. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. I’ll take a butterscotch for De and a dozen of the minis for the kiddos,” he said.

“Anything in particular?” you asked as you started to put together his order.

“Surprise me,” he said.

“I’ll go with glazed and chocolate to be safe,” you said. You set the bag and box down, ringing him up. “Oh and I gotta say, I really liked the new album. You guys were really good.”

“Well thank you very much, Y/N,” he smiled. He stuffed a big tip in the jar like he always did and you gave him a look. “Oh I know you saved that donut for me. Don’t pretend.”

“The fact you come in here every single Thursday at 10:07 in the morning when you’re not working and order the same donut every single time? Oh I don’t know who thought to do that,” you said.

“Mhm. See ya next week, kid,” he said as he headed out.

“Bye, Mr. Ackles,” you said. You saw your manager give you a side eye and you pouted.

“I thought I told you to stop bothering him,” she said.

“He’s nice. It’s a small place. He comes in every week,” you said. She took the money out of the tip jar and shoved it in her pockets. You sighed and heard the door open again, Jensen shaking his head.

“Sorry, left my sunglasses,” he said. He picked them up and paused, staring at the jar. “I just put twenty dollars in there.”

You looked at your manager and she pretended to have to go sign for something. You wiped down the counter and saw him still standing there.

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked. You straightened up and his lip was pursed.

“Does your boss take your tips?” he asked.

“We pool tips here, Mr. Ackles. You know that,” you said.

“Yeah but you make minimum wage. She doesn’t. Does your boss take a cut of the tips?” he asked. You didn’t say anything but apparently you did. He grumbled and pulled out a twenty, sliding it across the counter. “That’s yours, not hers. While I’m at it, I’m gonna say what I’ve been thinking for like, the entire time you’ve waited on me and just go to school. You are way too smart to be working a job like this the rest of your life.”

“Mr. Ackles you don’t-”

“You don’t ring people up. You do the math in your head. You always give me a total before it pops up on the screen. You got a brain. Use it for something better than this, kid,” he said.

“Not everyone is fortunate enough to do that,” you said.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty two,” you said.

“You got a car?” he asked.

“Yeah?” you said.

“Congratulations. You’re the newest bartender at my brewery. Starts at fifteen bucks an hour,” he said.

“Is that in the morning?” you asked.

“It’s probably evenings, afternoons. Why?” he asked.

“I have another job,” you said. “I can’t work later than noon.”

“You can work in the brewery in the morning then. We got a deal?” he asked. You nodded and he pulled a card out of his wallet. “Call me when you’re done with work today and we’ll get you set up, okay?”

“Thank you. This is gonna help so much,” you said. He smiled and nodded.

“Just hang in there for now. It’ll get better.”

Three Weeks Later

“Good morning,” you heard as you dropped a sack on the floor. You were panting and sweaty, Jensen smiling as he saw you. “Whoa, what are you doing moving those by yourself.”

“My boss said they need to get moved. I was getting started without him was all,” you said.

“Okay your boss is my business partner so I’m like your boss too and no we do not move seventy pound bags by ourselves, understand?” he asked.

“Sorry,” you said, wiping your hand over your face.

“Are you okay?” he asked. “It’s just a bag on the floor.”

“Yeah. I just don’t want to screw this up,” you said. “I really need the money.”

“Well relax. It’s only your second week,” he said. You nodded and he squatted down, hoisting the bag over his shoulder. He walked it over to where they were being moved and tossed it down. “Come here.”

You scurried over and he crossed his arms, looking back at the pallet of raw hops and the bag by his feet.

“Figure out how to make this more efficient,” he said.

“What?”

“I didn’t hire you because I felt sorry for you and I didn’t do it because you’re stronger than the grown men here. You got a brain and I want you to use it. Figure out a way to make this process better. Tell your boss when you got something,” he said.

“Yes sir,” you said.

“None of that sir shit, kid. Just Jensen, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said. He rolled his eyes and walked away, a pit forming in your stomach. You were so getting fired. You should have just sucked it up and stayed at the donut shop. You’d quit there and your pizza shop job went away when they closed up last week. You knew you could squeak by until you found another part time job. “Jensen?”

He spun around halfway across the room and you swallowed.

“I’m available in the evenings now. I can bartend too if you still need that,” you said.

“I can give you two shifts a week. Same pay. That work?” he asked.

“Yes that’s great,” you said.

“Good. Figure out the bags, Y/N,” he said before he went off. You felt a little better at least. You stared at the bags and pallet, trying to figure out the best way to get the bags over with all of the equipment in the way.

One Hour Later

“So you figured it out,” said Jensen with a knowing smile after you’d told him about your idea to use the forklift to drive around outside and then back in through the other smaller door to bring the bags over to the other side of the equipment. “Took a little longer than I was expecting.”

You frowned and he chuckled.

“Relax. It was a test,” he said.

“A test?” you said and he hummed. “For what?”

“I think your talents would be better suited for stocking management at the moment. You’re gonna track orders as they come in, manage storage, help the workflow stay on track. Sound good?” he asked.

“Yes. Definitely,” you said.

“People are around to help but I think you’ll do just fine,” he said. “I gotta run. Don’t forget to take a lunch break at some point.”

“Jensen. Thanks for the job. Really,” you said.

“You go to college and then you can thank me,” he said. “See you around, kid.”

One Month Later

“Mmm,” you hummed at the end of your shift tending bar. You were sipping on a can of beer and eating a slice of pizza on the quiet patio, a few people finishing up with their drinks before the place closed up for the night.

“Excuse me,” said an older man, probably in his fifties. You stopped mid-chew and he put on a friendly smile. “I’m sorry to bother you. You just look a lot like someone I know. Well I didn’t know her but…”

“Howdy,” said Jensen as he wandered out from the taproom. It wasn’t lost on anyone how he put himself between you and the man. “Enjoying your night sir?”

“Yes. I was just chatting to the young lady here. I thought I knew her from somewhere…” he trailed off. Jensen looked back at you and you swallowed down the pizza in your mouth.

“She must have one of those faces,” he said. “We’re closing up for the night soon sir.”

“I’m not trying to bother her,” he said.

“I know you’re not,” said Jensen. The man didn’t leave though and he stiffened up. “Sir. The young lady doesn’t want to talk to you. She doesn’t know you. Please return to your table.”

“I do know her though,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t…” you said.

“Y/N, go inside,” said Jensen.

“Okay, this is a very awkward situation. But I need to talk to her in private,” said the man. Jensen chuckled but you heard the dark edge to it.

“I need you to leave,” said Jensen.

“I’m a cop.”

“I don’t care if you’re the Easter bunny. You are making my employee uncomfortable,” said Jensen. The man stared at him and then you. Jensen grabbed your arm and started walking inside with you when the man grabbed your hand. “Get your fucking hands off-”

“Y/N, I know your mom,” he said. Jensen kept pulling on you but you shook him off.

“You’re a cop?” you asked as he nodded.

“You’re Y/N, aren’t you,” he said.

“What the fuck is going on?” asked Jensen.

“Y/N, sweetie, we need to call up the Dallas police department right now. There are things you need to know.”

“Things like what?”

Four Hours Later

“Hey kid,” said Jensen as you sat at a conference table in a police station. You stared blankly at the shut file, Jensen setting a candy bar down in front of you. “Didn’t know if you were a chocolate kinda chick.”

“Thank you Jensen,” you said quietly. You didn’t touch it and he bumped your arm.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “Thank you for coming with me to the station and staying. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah well no offense but I was serious about what I said. I wasn’t leaving you alone with some random dude,” he said. “Eat something.”

“I thought I had shitty parents before,” you laughed. “Turns out they fucking killed my mom and took her toddler and pretended I was theirs. What the fuck.”

“I’m not going to pretend to know how you remotely feel right now,” he said. “It’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up.”

“I know,” you said as a detective came in.

“Y/N, this is the file we worked up on your mom,” he said. He opened a page and you saw Jensen stand out of the corner of your eye.

“That’s her mother?” he said.

“Abigail Leandry? Yes,” said the detective. Jensen shook his head. “Mr. Ackles, what-”

“Kayla. Kayla,” he said.

“Mr. Ackles, why do you know the deceased’s middle name?” asked the detective. Jensen was practically white now and you stood up, holding onto him.

“Did you know my mom?” you asked. “Jensen, did you know her?”

“Who’s her father?” asked Jensen.

“There’s no father on record. Mr. Ackles are you-” said the detective as Jensen ran his hand over his face. “What is your relation to the victim, Mr. Ackles?”

“I had a one night stand when I was twenty years old,” he said as he looked at you. “She said her name was Kayla.”

“What?” you said. The detective looked at the both of you and stood up. “Where are you going?”

“I think we need to do a paternity test as soon as possible.”

Two Hours Later

“I…” started Jensen for the fifth time as you sat in his passenger seat. You stared at the dashboard, Jensen opening his mouth again. “Y/N...if I knew…”

“I know,” you said. “Can you drive me back to my car now. I want to go home. It’s been a long day.”

“It’s after midnight. Why don’t I drop you off and we can swing by to get your car in the morning,” he said.

“Whatever.” You rested your head on the glass and shut your eyes. He started the truck but it didn’t move.

“We used protection. I wasn’t…” he said.

“It’s not a guarantee. Dude, you’re my dad. Whatever. Just take me home. Please,” you said.

“Where do you live,” he asked quietly. You gave him the address and twenty minutes later you were outside of your apartment, Jensen looking around. You put a hand on the door and he sighed. “Wait.”

“Jensen, I’m tired.”

“I know. I’m about to have a very fun time telling my wife about this. I just...this is not a safe neighborhood for a young woman to live alone in,” he said. “There’s stabbings and shootings around here all the time.”

“I grew up with methhead parents. That was kind of par for the course,” you said.

“I’m a stranger. I understand. Would you consider…” he said and you opened the door.

“I’m fine, Jensen. Go home. You have a long night still,” you said.

“I’ll pick you up at nine,” he said. You hummed and he leaned over. “Wait. Can I have your number?”

You gave him your phone and he put yours in his before putting his in yours and handing it back.

“Hey,” he said as you started to head inside. You groaned and turned around. He took a deep breath and swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Goodnight, Jensen,” you said. You went inside your unit before he could say anything else and locked the door shut. You wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge, nothing in there but a six pack of beer from the brewery. You shook your head and looked in the cabinet, half a bottle of vodka still there. You took it out and poured yourself a glass, wincing as you drank it down.

Maybe you’d be lucky enough to wake up in the morning and find out it was all a nightmare.

“Y/N,” said Jensen as you started work the next morning. You saw Danneel talking with her brother across the room, both of them glancing at you. “Can we talk?”

You nodded and he wandered out back to the employee area, taking a seat at a picnic table. You sat across from him, Jensen bouncing his leg like crazy.

“I thought I should at least tell you...I met Kayla at a club when I was twenty. I was home visiting family and went out with some friends. She was from Houston. We talked, flirted a bit, she was...forward with what she was interested in and being young and stupid like I was, I felt as though I should have at least one one-night stand in my life. I wasn’t...comfortable with it at first but it happened. We used protection and I left and I never really thought of her ever again. Until now obviously.”

“What’s your point, Jensen?” you asked. He bit his bottom lip and stilled his leg.

“We both learned some things last night. We know your mom got involved with drugs. We know that’s why she was killed. The people that raised you probably did it. She has no family left. The people that took you weren’t good and they’re dead and you have no family out there, anywhere. I know you were in a group home when you were sixteen after they died. I know you bounced around a bit and wound up in foster care until you aged out last year. I know your home isn’t safe and your car is older than you.”

“Jensen.”

“I’d like the chance to give you a real dad. I’d like to be there for you the way I should have always been. De and I both do. We can give you everything you need or want,” he said.

“I understand,” you said. He smiled and you rolled your eyes. “This would look horrible for you if it got out that you have some stray, wouldn’t it. Your grand idea is to pay me off?”

“What?” he asked and you stood up. “Y/N, that’s not-”

“I did just fine my whole life without a real dad. I don’t need one now,” you said. You headed back towards the entrance and he caught up to you grabbing your shoulder.

“Stop. Wait a second. I-” he said as you spun around.

“Leave me alone. I shouldn’t even exist. I will do just fine without you like I always have.” You started walking again and headed to your car, sliding behind the wheel before you knew it. You drove home and sat in your apartment, expecting a call that you’d been fired.

Five minutes after being home you heard a car pull up out front. The doorbell rang and you ignored it. A text came in on your phone which you also promptly ignored.

“Y/N. It’s Jensen,” he said as he knocked on the door. “Kid, I...we don’t gotta be the fucking Brady Bunch. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me try. I’ll do all the work, I swear. I just...I just gotta know you’re okay. I know you’re not. This is so fucked up. You should have had a better life. You should have had me. I would have stopped you from living through all the shit you have. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

You stared at the door and pursed your lips.

“I want to know my daughter. I want to be part of her life. I don’t want to hide you from anyone,” he said. “Let me give you what you deserve.”

You walked over and slowly opened the door, Jensen wearing a worried smile.

“I’m not calling you dad.”

“You don’t have to,” he chuckled. “Can I come in?”

You swung the door open wider and he stepped past you, pausing in the hall as you closed up behind him.

“You live here?” he asked.

“No, I stay here for shits and giggles. Yes I live here,” you said. He stepped past the kitchen and into your family room where you took a seat on the old couch, Jensen spinning around. “Yeah, it’s shitty. I get it.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s in violation of health codes,” he said. He took a seat on the couch and made a face. “Can I push my luck and convince you to move out of here?”

“I don’t need charity, Jensen. You’ve given me enough already,” you said.

“Parents put a roof over their kids' heads. I’m a few years late so sue me but we gotta get you somewhere better than this,” he said.

“I drink. I swear. I walk around in my underwear and I have adult friends sleepover so there’s no way in hell I’m moving in with you.”

“I have a guest house,” he said. “It’s private. You’re not a child and I’ll do my best to not treat you like one. But it’s safe and nice and you can have your own space...just forty feet from where I live is all.”

You crossed your arms and he put on a pair of sad eyes.

“You’re milking it a bit don’t you think,” you said.

“I’m not acting,” he said. “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. I’ll give you money for food and gas and pay for the rest if you don’t want to talk to me. Just give me this. Let me get you out of this shithole.”

“I don’t need saving.”

“I didn’t say I was going to save you. I want to protect you. There’s a difference.”

He set a hand on his leg, turning it palm up. You watched it and after a moment set your hand in his.

“Don’t fuck me over,” you said.

“Not gonna happen,” he said. “Why don’t we run to the store to get some boxes and we can pack up your stuff?”

An hour later you were following Jensen in your car down the driveway of a very nice house. You parked behind him and got out, staring at it and the yard and turning your head to see the multiple cars in his garage.

“Y/N,” said Jensen. He was standing closer, giving you a smile. “We can move the boxes in a minute. Why don’t I show you the guest house first?”

“Okay,” you said. You followed him around a path that went behind the garage, a two story building back there.

“It’s only one bedroom. But it’s got it’s own office on the first floor,” he said. “It’s not that big. You can always stay in the house with the rest of us if you change your mind but I understand wanting your privacy.”

He unlocked the door and you stepped inside, Jensen mentioning something about dust but you were still floored by how nice it was. The kitchen was beautiful and open to the family room. The large wood dining table sat in a cute breakfast nook. There was a fireplace and big windows with a staircase in the back heading up to a second floor.

“...I know it’s a bit plain,” he said and you turned your head, Jensen smiling back at him. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you.”

“This is too nice. Jensen this is way too nice. I gotta pay you rent for-” you said but he shook his head. “Jensen.”

“I have some contingencies for you staying here. You follow those and I’ll pay for this place and your food and gas. Okay?” he asked.

“What are they?” you asked.

“No big parties. You want to have something small that’s fine but no big blowouts,” he said.

“Do I look like I have a lot of friends?” you asked.

“I want you to go to school. You can keep your job at the brewery but you’re gonna go to school. I will pay for it but I want you to have an education.”

You pursed your lips but nodded.

“I’m getting you a new car, one much safer. Lastly, if you see the kids, please try not to swear in front of them. They’re young and we do our best to not do that around them,” he said.

“Fine,” you said. “Don’t expect me to start having big family dinners or that kind of thing.”

“I understand. I’ll move the boxes and um, maybe you can make up a list of things you need for me to get at the store.”

“I have everything I need in the boxes,” you said.

“You have one pan and like three plates,” he said.

“Yeah?” you asked.

“Y/N, that’s not normal.”

“You realize this isn’t normal right?” you said as you looked around.

“If you change your mind...I’m gonna get your things, let you unpack,” he said. He left and ten minutes later you had four boxes by the door, Jensen excusing himself away. You unpacked your kitchen items, knowing he might have had a point. But he was buying absolutely everything for you and it was a little ridiculous.

You took your bag of clothes upstairs, swallowing when you saw the bedroom and bathroom up there. It was like it was out of a magazine. There was even a small balcony off the room. You stepped out and looked around at a yard and saw a pool off in the distance.

There was no way in Hell you belonged in a place like that.

That Evening

You were cooking dinner for yourself with the over abundance of groceries Jensen had left at the door earlier when you heard a knock. You moved the pan off the heat and opened up, Jensen standing there with a smile.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“We’re about to have dinner if you’d like to join us,” he said.

“You said I don’t have to talk to anyone if I don’t want to.”

“I know. I just wanted to offer. It’s your first...are you cooking?” he asked as he saw into the kitchen.

“Yes. I appreciate the offer but no thank you,” you said.

“I literally just gave you some extra pantry staples for the night before I can run to the store in the morning. You’re making dinner out of that stuff?” he asked.

“Yes?” you said. “You gave me pasta and olive oil. I will survive for the night.”

“You’re making pasta in a pan?” he asked.

“Yes. You put water in the pan and put in some pasta. It’s like magic,” you said.

“Alright. I’ll see you in the morning then,” he said. You shut the door on him and went back to the stove. You stared at the messy pan and turned the stove off. You sat down on the couch with your head in your hands.

He had never, never been anything but nice to you when you were a complete stranger. Of course he was going to go overboard since he found out you were his kid. You were being bitchy for no reason and he was still being nice.

There was a knock at the door but you saw him walk past the window. You got up and opened the door, a large pot sitting on the small bench by the door. He was halfway across the grass and you swallowed.

“Jensen?” you called out. He spun around and smiled.

“Keep it,” he said.

“What...what are you having? For dinner?”

“Pork roast with mashed sweet potatoes and roasted veggies. S’pretty good,” he said. “We got ice cream for dessert.”

You bit your bottom lip and he walked over to you, frowning as he stared down.

“I don’t blame you for not having much faith in people or being cautious of me. I really don’t. But I am your dad and you are my daughter. To you that means nothing. I understand. But you’re one of the most important things in my life now. It can be one sided if you want that. It can be that simple if you want that. Like I said, you can ignore me the rest of my life if you want and I would never blame you. But I can give you more than a place to stay and money. There’s shit a lot more important than those things. You can have it if you want it. Just come on inside if you decide you do.”

You crossed your arms and looked down. He didn’t leave yet and you took a few deep breaths.

“I’ve never really trusted anyone before,” you said. “I’m not...I do want a family, Jensen. I do. But my life isn’t like this. I dropped out of high school and got a GED. I have hookups most nights. I’m probably going to get pregnant, marry the guy, have another kid, get divorced, live in a small old apartment while working two jobs and that’s my life. That’s gonna be life, Jensen. I’ve known that’s gonna be my life since I was a kid. I don’t have goals or dreams. I’m just here because you feel guilty and I can take advantage of that right now. I’m gonna push back and push back until you throw me out or I leave because I’m not gonna trust you. I’m never going to trust you, Jensen. You don’t have to feel bad about this situation. You don’t. You did nothing wrong. I’m not supposed to even be here. I think it’s better if you just gave me some money and I’ll leave and you never have to think about me ever again.”

“I’m gonna think about you everyday for the rest of my life,” he said. “You deserve a better life than what you described. You deserve a good job and to fall in love and have children because you want to. I want you, Y/N not out of guilt. I only feel guilty I wasn’t there for you. I want you because you’re my daughter and I love you. It’s all there is to it.”

You sighed and heard thunder in the distance.

“You can stay in the house. You can live with us. We’d love it if you did,” he said. You looked back at the guest house. For the first time you noticed the bags of concrete stacked up on the side.

“You were gonna tear it down, weren’t you,” you said.

“We didn’t need it. It was gonna be an extra garage space. But that’s-”

“Will I have my own room?” you asked quietly. “In the house.”

“Yes. Your own room, bathroom, big closet. Your own part of the house.”

“...How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you asked.

“You don’t. Have dinner with us. Talk to your siblings. Maybe they can give you some insight,” he said. You walked past him as a light rain came down, Jensen showing you in the back door and up a set of stairs. There were a pair of toddlers at a table, an older girl in the kitchen with Danneel as they dished up some plates. “Y/N’s going to join us.”

“That’s great,” said Danneel as she handed the girl a plate. “JJ, would you give that to Y/N and get her some silverware?”

“Sure,” she said. She walked over to you and you took the plate. “Are you mom and dad’s friend?”

“She’s your sister,” said Jensen as he helped in the kitchen. He put down a glass at an empty chair and you took a seat, JJ returning quickly with a fork and knife.

“You’re kinda old,” she said as she set them down.

“You’re kinda short,” you said.

“Am not,” she said as she went to her seat.

“Yeah you are,” said the littlest girl. Jensen had brought her in to get donuts a few times and you saw her recognize you. “Hi!”

“Hi Arrow,” you said with a smile.

“JJ, Arrow, Zepp,” said Jensen as he leaned over the back of her chair and poured a glass of water for you from the carafe. “This is Y/N and she’s gonna be around quite a bit more we hope.”

“Okay. Who’s your favorite princess?” asked Arrow.

“Hm. That’s a tough one. I don’t know if she qualifies as a princess but I always liked Rapunzel,” you said as Jensen and Danneel carried over their plates. “Who’s your favorite?”

An hour later you were still discussing Disney characters with the kids, Jensen scooping up the twins under each arm.

“Daddy,” groaned Zeppelin as he was spun upside down. “We were playing.”

“You two and your sister need baths, stinkers, and then a bedtime story. How’s that sound?” he asked.

“Can Y/N read it?” he asked as he looked at you.

“Sure,” you said.

“Yay!” he said.

“We’ll be about half an hour with these guys. If you want to come up I can show you your space,” said Jensen. You nodded and followed them all upstairs. Danneel went off with JJ down a hall, Jensen nodding towards one end. “That’s me and De over there. Kids are down that hall and the guest suite and loft is to the right.”

“Thanks,” you said. You wandered down the hall and found a large open space with a couch and TV, more of an adult hang out space from the looks of it. There was a door nearby and you opened it, walking into a large bedroom with a canopy bed. “Holy shit.”

It was nicer than the guest house and you walked around, stepping into a beautiful on suite bathroom with double vanities, a separate shower and a giant ass tub. The walk in closet was huge and you were absolutely in love with the wide window bench and bookcases.

“Hey,” said Jensen behind you. You spun around and saw him sporting a partially wet shirt. “You like it?”

“It’s warm,” you said.

“Well feel free to move some clothes and stuff in for the night. There’s a few raincoats in the front hall closet downstairs. I gotta try and get these three washed before the storm hits,” he said.

“It’s no problem,” you said. He smiled and started to leave when you took a step forward. “Jensen?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about before, how I acted and what I said. No one’s ever taken care of me and not wanted something in return,” you said.

“Apology accepted. All I will ever want is you to be happy. We’ll get there eventually,” he said. He left and after exploring the room for a few more minutes, you took a raincoat from the front closet and went outside, packing up most of your things and bringing them up to your new room. You’d just set a box down when a toddler in a pair up pull ups ran into your room.

“Y/N, can I have a story now?” asked Zeppelin.

“Zepp...Zeppy…” you heard Jensen call from somewhere else.

“You wanna show me your room and then I can tell you a story?” you asked. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out, Jensen sighing as he found you in the hall. “I got him.”

“Well someone needs his pajamas on,” said Jensen. Zeppelin grumbled but he did tug on his shirt at least once you were in his room. Jensen tugged his pants on and Zeppelin rushed over to his bookcase, picking out one and handing it to you. He crawled up in bed and you sat on the stool nearby, reading and showing him the pages for about ten minutes before you watched him close his eyes and huff quietly.

“Night, little guy,” you said. You put the book on his nightstand and set the stool back. Jensen smiled and flicked the light off by the door, a nightlight keeping the space dimly lit. He shut the door and you were quiet as you saw Danneel duck out of a room. He nodded and you followed the two of them to the loft area, taking a seat on the end of the couch as he settled into a chair, Danneel sitting close by.

“I think Zepp’s a fan,” she said with a smile. “I think they all are.”

“Kids don’t tend to be the problem in these situations,” you said. You looked at her and she nodded. “Are you...okay-”

“I would much rather have you stay in this house than out there by yourself. You’ve been on your own enough,” she said.

“What was your reaction?” you asked as you quickly glanced to Jensen.

“A bit of shock. But I saw the test results and he has…” she said, Jensen nodding. “He mentioned once when you first started working at the brewery about feeling protective of you. We both assumed it was because you were young and on your own and trying to get by. I’ve never been quite that bad but when he first started out after he left home, things were tight for him. We understand struggling a bit. Not to the same extent as you obviously but we get it. Now with what you know, I think there was some paternal instinct coming out he didn’t quite see.”

“In my experience, parents aren’t good things. My life got better after them,” you said. “But I’m willing to try if he is.”

“All of us will,” said Jensen. “It’ll take time which will be the hard part probably but if you allow us, we can be parents to you too. We won’t make rules for you. You’re an adult and we’ll treat you like one. But we’ll treat you like our child too. De and I will probably screw that up sometimes so all I ask is that you let us slip up from time to time and hopefully this can turn out the way we hope it does.”

“Do I have to go to college?” you asked. Jensen glanced to Danneel and back at you. “I don’t have the best grades and I literally dropped out my senior year. Does a community college even take a GED?”

“I was thinking more like UT,” he said. You laughed and he raised an eyebrow.

“You’re serious? I didn’t even take SATs or ACTs or…” you trailed off as you turned to Danneel who shrugged. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can.”

“No, I can’t,” you scoffed. You gripped the corner of the armchair and he sighed. “I can’t-”

“Shh,” he said as he got up. He squatted down in front of you and smiled. “Don’t be scared. We’ll figure it out together, all of us. That room over there? That is your bedroom now and no one will ever kick you out of it. I don’t want you leaving until you’re ready and I think we all know you’re a long way away from that. I believe you can go to school and do anything you want to. I’ll believe for the both of us right now, okay?”

“I’m too stupid. I don’t fit in aside from with sleazy guys,” you said.

“I disagree with that,” he said. “Trust me?”

You sighed but gave him a nod.

“I know it’s been a long day and you didn’t get a lot of sleep last night but there is a bowl of ice cream downstairs with your name on it if you’re interested,” he said.

“Maybe. I’d like to wash up,” you said. “I know today was kind of busy but I still have work in the morning right?”

“Don’t worry about work right now. We go it covered,” said Danneel. “I can show you where stuff is in your bathroom.”

You swallowed but nodded, following her back into your room and the bathroom. A part of you was expecting her to say something about wanting you gone. After all you technically weren’t hers. You were barely Jensen’s.

“There’s a bunch of stuff like soap and shampoo and that kind of stuff in here,” she said, opening up a tall cabinet door. “Towels are up top. There’s not a hair dryer in here but I can just drop mine off outside on your bed if you want?”

“Air dry is fine,” you said quietly.

“Honestly I do the same most of the time,” she said. “There are some pads and tampons under the sink but I gotta run to a few stores in the morning anyways so maybe you can come with and we can get whatever brand you like.”

“I don’t…” you said as she cocked her head. “I get all my supplies from a free clinic. I can’t...I couldn’t afford that brand name stuff before.”

“Oh,” she said. She made a strange face and shook her head. “Well we can try them out until we find one you like.”

“Okay,” you said.

“If you need anything just let me know,” she said. She walked past you but you heard her pause in the doorway. “Y/N a bit of advice.”

You turned around and waited for her to drop the nice act.

“Yeah?”

“Stay away from sleazy guys. They just want sex. They don’t care about you.”

“I know that.”

“Then do me a favor and the next time you spend the night with a guy, do it cause you feel a connection with him. There’s a difference.”

“I get that too.”

“Then why sleep around?”

“Because I’ll take a fake connection over no connection.”

“You don’t need a man to be happy,” she said. “Jensen and I spend a lot of time apart.”

“What is your point?” you sighed.

“Don’t fuck random guys cause you’re lonely. You might not realize this yet but you’re never gonna be alone ever again. Get used to us cause you’re fucking ours and we want better for you than a random fuck. You got that?”

“You don’t talk to me the way Jensen does,” you said quietly.

“Because he’s in pain right now and he is so scared of setting you off. I on the other hand know what it’s like to be a young woman. I won’t tell you not to have your fun. But have it with somebody special. Good guys do exist. Good dads exist. He’s not gonna hurt you. You said you’d try out there so please try.”

“Do you wish I would go?”

“I wish someday you realize what a silly question that is to be asking,” she said. “I might barely be old enough to be your mother but you didn’t just get a dad with this. You have him and you have me and three half-siblings and a whole shitload of other people. So the next time you’re lonely, you come to one of us and maybe the next guy you sleep with you can do it cause he’s a good guy. Understand?”

“Yes,” you said. She nodded and started to leave when you cleared your throat. “Danneel?”

“Yeah?” she asked as she turned around.

“Where do you meet nice guys? I haven’t had much luck,” you said.

“You’re young. Don’t worry about it, sweetie,” she said as some thunder shook the house. “Wash up at the sink. Jensen gets a wee paranoid about showers in thunderstorms.”

“I’m the same way,” you said.

“You two must be related or something,” she smirked.

“Seriously,” you said.

“Aw, you got his bitch face too,” she laughed. “Come down when you’re ready. We’ll save you some ice cream.”

“Thanks,” you said. She shut the bedroom door after herself and you took out a few things from the cabinet along with what you’d brought along. Fifteen minutes later your face was washed and you’d changed into pajamas, a pair of old sweatpants and a free shirt you’d gotten from the brewery. You threw your hair up in a bun and took a deep breath.

You wandered out of the room and down the hall, getting mixed up for a moment before you found the stairs down. Danneel was sitting on the countertop with a bowl in her hand, Jensen busy decorating his own with crumbled up cookies.

“Hey,” he said. He slid the bowl across the counter and stuck a spoon in it. “Prepare to be amazed.”

“Mhm,” you said. You scooped up a spoonful and took a bite, tilting your head. “Is that...whiskey?”

“Just a smidge. That, vanilla ice cream and some cookies on top? So good,” he said as he started to make himself a bowl. “We were away once back in De’s neck of the woods and had it at dinner once. Obviously my version is superior…” he said as he got a whack from Danneel. “It’s a pretty good knock off.”

“Jensen always manages to pick out the best desserts. Meanwhile I always pick the weird ones,” she laughed.

“Oh next time we’re in New York we gotta take her to that hole in the wall place,” said Jensen.

“New York City?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed. You sat up on the counter across from Danneel and sucked on your spoon, Jensen taking a spot near you when he’d finished. “How’d you end up down here. You were in Dallas up until last year weren’t you.”

“Yeah. A couple friends were gonna move down here so I went with them. I thought a new place might be good for me. They turned out to not be great friends so I wound up in an assisted place,” you said.

“Well I’m glad you came,” he said. “You been a lot of places yet?”

“Not really,” you said.

“You ever been to Franklin’s?” asked Danneel. “The barbecue place?”

“I’ve never been out to eat,” you said.

“Ever?” she asked.

“Sometimes we’d sit in McDonald’s,” you said.

“Well we’re definitely going out to dinner tomorrow,” said Jensen. “We can get whatever you like.”

“That sounds good,” you said. You took a few more bites and watched the lights flicker.

“Uh oh,” he said just as the power went out. You stilled as he slid off the counter in the dark. They both moved around as you sat still, a lamp turning on nearby. You jumped and Jensen chuckled. “Ah, there we go. That’s…”

You jumped off the counter when he ran a hand over your head.

“It’s-“

“I don’t like the dark,” you said. You set the bowl down and started to walk around, bumping into him and then Danneel. “I don’t…”

You stepped over to the lamp on the table, taking a seat and a few deep breaths.

“Jay.”

Jensen went off into another part of the house, returning with two more camping lamps. He turned them on and the room got brighter.

“There we go, that’s better isn’t it?” asked Jensen. Danneel brought over your ice cream and you took a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just don’t like the dark,” you said. You squeezed your leg and relaxed, Jensen wandering off, returning with a flashlight. He sat it next to you as you picked up your spoon and began eating again. There was a flutter of feet upstairs for a moment and you heard a whimper come from the top of the steps. Danneel got up and went over to the bottom, looking up with a frown.

“How about you sleep in your sister’s room tonight?” she asked as she went up. You finished with your bowl, Jensen leaning back in his chair.

“He’s scared of the dark too,” said Jensen.

“I’m not scared. I said I don’t like it.”

“Alright. It’s not an interrogation,” he said. He ate from his bowl, keeping a side eye on you. “You know we have a security system and protection here.”

“You’re rich, of course you do,” you said. You stared down to an empty hall and he grabbed the flashlight. He clicked it on and pointed it down there. You rolled your eyes and sat back. Jensen set the extra cookies on the table, adding more to his ice cream as you stared down the dark hall again.

“Y/N. There’s nobody here,” he said.

“I know that,” you said.

“It’s okay to be scared of the dark you know.” He popped a cookie in his mouth and you gave him a glare. Thunder cracked and you jumped in your seat. He moved over to the chair next you and you shut your eyes. “Can I give you a hug?”

“What?”

“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” he asked.

“No,” you said.

“Okay.” You got up and flinched when it thundered again. You started to wander around the kitchen, Jensen watching you like a hawk. You found a seat at the counter and stared down the hall, pouting when you heard him get up. “Don’t kick my ass for this.”

“Kick your ass for what?” you said just as he stopped by your seat and wrapped his arms around you. You took a deep breath and he turned you so you weren’t facing the hall. You looked up at him and he smiled.

“Come on,” he said. He pulled you out of your seat and walked over to the couch with an arm around you. You sat down next to him, Jensen pulling a blanket draped over the back onto you.

“Don’t…” you said when he hugged you again. He leaned back and you took a deep breath. He nodded and moved his arms away.

“I think I understand why you don’t like the dark,” he said.

“I just...I don’t know you either.”

“I know but I’m your dad.”

“That doesn’t mean jackshit to me.”

“In my world it does. If you want a hug and me to sit with you while we wait for the power to come back on, that’s up to you.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. You turned to him and groaned. “I said fine, you can hug me.”

“I see you’re just as stubborn as I am sometimes,” he said. He moved closer and pulled you into his side. After a few minutes you relaxed, watching the lightning outside the windows. “Feelin’ better?”

“There was a drug dealer my parents owed money to once. He took me when it was storming one night as collateral. They didn’t pay him back on time but he felt sorry for me or something so he dropped me off at a fire station. I said I ran away.”

“How old were you?”

“Five, six. Somewhere around there,” you said.

“He took you from your house?” asked Jensen.

“I mean, we never lock a door. It was a roof and four walls. I’d barely call it liveable,” you said.

“Did you tell the police?”

“Jensen,” you said, tilting your head up at him. “My parents were big druggies. We didn’t call the cops. That sort of thing just didn’t happen in our environment.”

“Have you ever…” he asked.

“No. I mean...I’ve had a hit or two off a joint before but no, no drugs. I didn’t like the weed that much either to be honest,” you said.

“You said you drink earlier today.”

“Like a beer a night, not even.”

“Just getting to know you...and see that there must have been someone that taught you not to be that way.”

“I had a grandma. She was nice. She was normal. She tried to get custody of me a few times but my parents threatened to stop letting her see me. I guess they weren’t really my parents, were they.”

“No, not really,” he said. He ran his hand over your head and you saw Danneel come back down. She took a seat in the corner with the package of cookies and set a lamp down on the coffee table. “How’s the boy?”

“Tuckered out in lil sis’ bed,” she said. “The battery on his nightlight was dead so he woke up in the dark.”

“Well the dark can be scary. I guarantee at least two of them wind up in bed with us by the time the night’s through.”

You were quiet as they talked about plans for tomorrow, who was going to do what chores, talking amongst themselves about where to take you for dinner. Jensen nudged you and you glanced up, a smile on his face.

“You want to go shopping with De tomorrow?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. You listened to the rain come down harder and breathed deeply. You tensed up when Jensen shifted but he put his hand back on your head and shushed you. “I’ve kinda always wanted to try brisket.”

“I think we’re getting barbecue for dinner then,” he said. The lights turned back on and you let out a sigh, Jensen rubbing your back as you sat up. “Go ahead and keep one of those lamps and the flashlight in your room in case it happens again.”

“Thanks,” you said as you stood. “I’ll uh, see you guys tomorrow then.

“See you in the morning, Y/N.”

Six Months Later

“Jensen,” you said as you leaned back against the outdoor grill.

“Y/N…” he said as you scooted over more towards the countertop. “Yes honey?”

“Who’s that guy, the young one,” you said as you nodded out to the yard where a few tables were set up, people standing around.

“Baby face over there is Alex. He worked on the last couple seasons of the show with me. I’ve been meaning to have him and the rest of the wacky nutjobs over for awhile now. You’re a big girl, you can say hi to my friends if you want,” he said as he flipped a burger.

“Mhm,” you hummed, looking over your shoulder. You saw him talking to Jared with a beer in his hand. His head turned and he saw you, flashing you a quick smile. You returned it and heard a grunt.

“He’s six years older than you,” said Jensen as he sipped from his can.

“I literally dated a like forty year old last year.”

“Gah, why, why do you tell me things like that, I…” he trailed off when he saw you giggling to yourself. “Okay you little shit, how about this?”

“How about-”

“Hey Alex! Y/N wants to talk to you!” shouted Jensen out to the yard so just about every person there turned in your direction.

“I’m eating your brownie now,” you said. You grabbed the chocolate square off the plate nearby and popped it into your mouth as he put his hands on his hips.

“You’re making me more later, missy,” he said. He ruffled your hair and messed it up just as you caught Alex walk over.

“I am so sorry for him,” you said as you tried to fix the strands.

“You have to live with him. I feel sorry for you,” he laughed. “Alex.”

“Y/N,” you said. You took your beer and walked over towards the pool, Alex smirking to himself. “What? How bad did he mess up my hair?”

“Oh you’re perfect. It’s just nice to have someone to share the pain with,” he said. “He was really excited to find out about you you know. Like obnoxiously excited.”

“He’s alright,” you said with a shrug. You turned and looked back at the grill where he was working, Danneel coming out with Arrow on her hip. “They’ve grown on me. You must be an actor then if you’re at the first annual SPN whatever he and Jared are calling this.”

“They told me free beer and I was sold,” he said. “But yeah, I act. Kinda model every once in a while but that sounds really douchey so I try not to talk about it much.”

“Legit both Jay and De did it so my shock of all things Hollywood has kind of wavered by this point,” you said. “What’s California like? Is it as hot as here?”

“Not as bad. I’m from Canada actually,” he said. “The not too cold part which is nice.”

“I would take a cold day every once in a while,” you said. “How long are you here for?”

“About a week. I was gonna roadtrip down to a place called Galveston one day. Apparently it’s a beach town on the gulf. I thought that’d be fun,” he said.

“We went last month. It was so cool. I’d never been to a beach before or seen the ocean. There’s this place with amazing chili cheese fries. You gotta try them at night when it gets a bit cooler out,” you said. “My dad knows the name. I’ll have to…”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ve never called Jensen dad before is all,” you said. You bit your bottom lip and Alex smiled.

“Between you and me, he’s really grateful you guys found each other. He loves you a lot. I know it’s gotta be a thousand kinds of weird but he is really, really proud of you. He brags about you all the time in the group chat.”

“Of course he does. He’s a dork.”

“Oh I one hundred percent agree with that,” he chuckled. He took a sip of his beer and tilted his head. “I know this is like super spur of the moment but would you want to like, go to the beach with me? Some of the guys were gonna come that were sticking around here but if you’re free…”

“I don’t know,” you said as you rubbed the back of your neck. “Like I would totally hang out with you. It’s just like the adult trip, you know? It’s for you guys. Besides I was supposed to watch my siblings that day,” you said.

“Well of course you can come,” said Jensen as he popped up behind you. You flinched and he had two plates with burgers on them, handing you each one. “She loved the beach. Turned into a little kid. She made a sandcastle that-”

“Jensen,” you groaned, your face hot as he cleared his throat.

“We’ll get a sitter. You can ride with Alex,” he said. He patted your back and walked off as you sighed.

“Oh my God,” you said. Alex just laughed as he took a bite of his burger. You knew you were blushing and prayed that he didn’t notice.

“So how’s school?” he asked.

“You see that one up there? That’s Leo,” said Alex, hours and hours later. You were sitting on the edge of the pool with your feet in the water, everyone else hanging out on the other side of the house around the bonfire.

“If I ever take Astrology as an elective I’ll be sure to call you to help me study,” you said. You leaned back on your palms, Alex laughing.

“You’re the one smarter than me,” he said.

“When I apply myself it turns out I actually am,” you said. “Mostly. A business degree isn’t very fascinating though.”

“No but it’s security which I think is really good thing for you.”

“Why?”

“Sounds like you grew up rough was all. It’s not a bad thing to have something solid to fall back on, something safe,” he said.

“This is very true. There is a guy that runs one of the food trucks that comes to the brewery, he keeps trying to convince me to open up a restaurant with him once I get my degree.”

“Do you want to?”

“No but he’s sweet so I try to let him down gently.”

“He your boyfriend?”

“No. Don’t have one,” you said.

“Cool.”

“Was that your subtle way of seeing if I was single?” you asked.

“Seems to have worked,” he smirked. You moved closer and he did the same until you paused. “Sorry. I read this wrong.”

“No, you didn’t. I just...you’re the kind of guy that takes someone out on dates and waits and is slow and nice and...you’re a good guy, right? I can’t deal with a-”

He pecked a soft kiss to your lips, lingering for a moment before he pulled back. He smiled and kicked his feet in the water.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he said. You bumped his arm and he bumped yours back. “You are.”

“Loser,” you said.

“Gonna push you in the ocean for that,” he smirked. He gave your hand a squeeze and pulled his feet out of the water. “Let’s hang out by the fire. It’s getting cold over here anyways.”

“Okay,” you said gently. He pulled you to your feet and you giggled. “I don’t know why I just did that.”

“It’s alright. I like that sound,” he said. He let go of your hand as you got closer to the fire, Alex stopping with you at the table with some leftover desserts still out. “I uh, I’m not perfect...or have a degree...or am tall.”

“Don’t really give a shit about that stuff,” you said.

“Good,” he said. You swiped some cookies for yourselves and found an empty pair of chairs together, the group getting quiet when you sat but Jensen shockingly not using the opportunity to tease you.

“That it?” you asked as you came back inside from taking out a bag of trash a few hours later.

“Yup. Thanks for helping us clean up,” said Jensen. You stretched and headed upstairs, hearing a tut from him along the way. “He’s a good friend. Just go slow, okay?”

“I know,” you said. “Goodnight. Dad.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he said with a smile.

___________

#spn #supernatural #jensen x daughter!reader #jensen ackles #au #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #rpf #jensen ackles x daughter!reader #jensen fanfiction #one shot #spn one shot

579 notes · View notes

shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Worth the Wait

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 9.2k

[ ☁︎, ☀︎, ✘ (nsfw 18+) ] (v lowkey angst//fluff)

themes : virgin!Shouto, experienced!reader (well, more than Sho anyway lol), praise kink?, lil baby couples quarrel, make up sex, and also he’s kinda hung lmfao idk if that’s relevant 💀

bio : You can’t help but notice that every time things start to heat up with your Pro-Hero boyfriend, he shuts you down. After politely ignoring his initial rejections, your frustrations build up, and you decide to confront him.

author’s note : so this fic was inspired by a conversation with the lovely astrid ( @todoscript ), who is becoming my cherished shouto confidante! we didn’t talk about it for very long, and it was awhile ago... but my brain would not move on so… this happened. i figured if i’m going to type so much about him i may as well write a fic. thanks for listening to my constant yelling, hope you enjoiii <3

side note : both shouto and reader are meant to be young adults in this fic!! i was thinking somewhere around 25-30 (i didn’t specify the age in the fic) but i thought i would make note of this as that’s considered “old” to still have your v-card, by American society at least (hence why sho kept that info from reader)

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he first time it happened, you tried to play it off as if you hadn’t made a move.

The last few of your friends had finally departed from the Saturday game night you had thrown, leaving just you, Shouto, and the slow, hot tango of your tongues. You hadn’t seen each other all week— with him being busy with his hero work, and you being busy with your comparatively-mundane job, you didn’t get to spend as much time together as you would have liked. Although it was an obstacle for your relationship, you were both young adults as well as devoted professionals, which allowed the two of you to remain on the same page most of the time. It was typical for you to text and call one another for a few hours after work (granted you both had the time to spare) before passing out mid-conversation, your phone screen still lit up and gentle snores exchanged through the speakers. But like any sane girlfriend, having him in person, right in front of you, was always your favorite.

What had started as a peck had quickly evolved into a full on make-out session— Shouto had pulled you halfway onto his lap when you tried to move back from your initially-stealthy kiss, an appreciative hum rumbling through him as his large hands cupped around your face. You didn’t fight him as he brought your lips back to his, and you failed to stop him when those very same hands began to glide down your back, parking just above your ass. His fingers had gradually started to fiddle with the tops of your jeans, thumb running over the denim and dipping down to graze against your skin through your thin blouse.

Yet when your hands slipped underneath the bottom of his shirt, he pulled back from you, heterochromatic eyes guarded as he removed your hands. You had immediately picked up on his reluctance, and threw yourself off of him onto the other side of the couch, embarrassment scorching the back of your neck. Shouto left not long after that, for you had made up some lousy excuse that you were tired and would like to go to sleep, when sleep was really the opposite of your innermost desires.

This would have been all fine and good— because consent was consent after all, and you had no intentions of pushing him to do something he was uncomfortable with— had the same thing not happened just two weeks later. There you were thinking it would be a cute, coupley evening of watching movies and tossing popcorn at each other, resting your head against his shoulder and being content with just that— when then all of the sudden he was pinning you onto the sheets and kissing you til you couldn’t breathe. His hands, once again, wandered all over your clothed torso, palms mapping out each dip and curve as his tongue entertained yours in your mouth.

You were hesitant to kiss him at first, recalling how you had horrifically killed the mood last time, but as his advances became more passionate, you slowly allowed your defenses to slip back, excitement building inside of you. It was only when your legs tightened around his waist, your core brushing up along his thigh and causing you to let out the softest moan did he pull back. That same calm, cool expression was on his face, though his eyes were a bit wider than usual. There was also the tiniest hint of pink dusting his pale cheeks, his lips parted as he gathered himself. It was rather awkward after that— neither of you really knew what to say— so you crawled back to your spot and sat in silence for the rest of the movie, your hands eventually wandering out to hold onto each other. After sharing a soft kiss and exchanging “goodnight”s, you returned to your place, ready for an extra long appointment with your vibrator.

Unfortunately for you, this became a common occurrence. It wasn’t that you hated the steamy make-out sessions with your as-hot-as-they-come boyfriend, no— you thoroughly enjoyed them. The part that you absolutely loathed was returning to your place with your panties soaked all the way through, your sexual frustration meter only climbing higher and higher.

You loved your boyfriend! And of course you respected his wishes. You would wait for however long he wanted, because you wanted your first time together to be special. But fuck, did he have to heat you up just to leave you hanging every time? If he wanted to wait, then fine! But, God, what had you done to deserve this torture? You couldn’t get past first base— you’d never even rubbed your body erotically against his except for that time on his bed, and that was by accident!

And that was what you told the ladies during your Thursday night all-girl conference call, finally needing to vent and get this selfish feeling off your chest. It had been a long time coming, quietly brewing over the many instances of him stunting your advances that you came to a realization.

Enough was enough! You were going to ask him why he wouldn’t go any further with you, and whatever his answer may be, at least you would know what he was thinking! You felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, the girls cheering you on and wishing you luck as you said goodbye, ready to confront him.

— - — - — - — - —

Now that you’re standing here in front of his door, it seems like a foolish plan you’ve made. Your heart is beating out of your chest, thumping frantically against your ribcage as your fist is frozen in the air, knuckle about to connect with the door. Your stomach feels tight and low, throat dry with apprehension as your brain runs through every possible outcome. What would he say once you ask him your question?

Perhaps your breath stinks and it turns him off? Or maybe he doesn’t like the perfume you wear— or is it the way you dress that he doesn’t like? What if the reason he always stops you… is because he’s not sexually attracted to you?

Now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him pop a boner during your tongue wrestling matches, and the realization nearly causes your soul to leave your body. Even though the thought horrifies you, you try your best to reassure yourself that’s not the case. You had caught Shouto checking you out on multiple occasions, his eyes igniting a delicious heat on your skin. Whatever the case, you’re in this too deep to chicken out now. So with that, you let your knuckles rap on the door, steeling your nerves.

There’s a moment of quiet shuffling before your boyfriend opens the door, a pleasantly surprised smile on his face. His hair is wet and freshly washed, shining droplets collecting at the ends and making him appear even more handsome than usual. The gray tee thrown over his broad shoulders has damp spots from the runoff, and you take a second to admire the way his chest looks in the clingy material. “Hey, love,” he says, his voice alone causing goosebumps to rise along your forearms.

You allow him to guide you into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him quietly. “Hi Sho,” you greet back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him.

Shouto chuckles against your eager lips, long arms gathering you into his chest. When he pulls away, he tucks your head underneath his chin, placing another kiss on your crown. “I missed you.”

Your heart throbs, happiness surging through you and butterflies bursting into your stomach. “I missed you more,” you reply playfully, burying your face between his broad pecs and inhaling his warm, wintery scent. The smell of fresh detergent lingers on the fabric, mixing with his clean aroma and making your tummy flip in circles.

“Impossible,” Shouto quips back, holding your waist tight as he dips you backwards just enough for your feet to leave the ground before he presses his lips to yours again, rendering you breathless. He pulls you back upright after a moment, a cheeky smirk on his face as you try to remember what you were talking about before. “Come in, sit down. I was just finishing up some work, I’ll get you something to drink.”

Following his instruction, you move further into his apartment, gravitating toward the couch and inspecting the files laid out on the coffee table before you. The words blur together for you, the foreign hero work forms long and in what might as well be another language. You lean back onto the cushions as Shouto returns, a glass of water in his hand. Frost forms on the glass as he hands it to you, taking a seat beside you with his knee brushing against yours. You smile at his consideration, taking a small sip even though you’re not really thirsty.

“Was there something you came over here for specifically, love? Forgive me if I’ve forgotten, but I don’t believe we had plans?” He’s looking directly at you, eyes locked with yours as his hand comes to land on the top of your knee. Even just an innocent movement like that has you on alert, your breath catching in your throat as he gives a gentle squeeze.

“Uh… no reason,” you answer lamely, crumbling under the pressure of his watchful eyes. “Just wanted to see you.”

Shouto’s gaze lingers on you carefully, and for a second you feel like you’ve been caught in a trap. But he lets it go, his lips forming a soft smile as he lays his arm around your shoulders. “Well, I’m glad to see you too,” he replies honestly. His fingers caress your arm as his hand falls down to your waist, and he leans in to press another kiss to your cheek. You lean into his affection, mouth curving in content. “So, what would you like to do?” Shouto asks as he shuffles the files away into their manilla envelopes, creating a neat pile in the far corner of the table. He leans back into the cushions, fingers fondly stroking at your side. “We could go out to eat? We could try this new bar afterwards, too, it’s across from my agency. If you’re alright to go out.”

You can’t focus on his words, really— you’re too lost in your own thoughts. Why does he have to touch you like this every time, when if you act on it, he’ll only push you away? You’ve been together for a long while now, and still, he doesn’t take initiative to further your relationship. Every bone you’ve thrown his way has been perfectly deflected, with no sign of weariness from him. If he doesn’t want you, is it because he’s not into you anymore?

An ugly thought rears its head in the midst of your anxiety’s dark clouds.

Maybe he never was.

Taking your silence as an answer, Shouto continues on, looking towards the kitchen over his shoulder. “Or we could buy groceries and make dinner. I think I have bok choy in the fridge, but we’ll have to buy some meat. And noodles, if you want those instead of rice. I’m sure I have that sesame sauce you like, I—” He pauses as you grab his hand, your fingers looping tight around his warm palm, sliding them to rest on your thigh.

With the summer just fading into fall, you were wearing something to showcase the smooth expanse of your thighs, and as you guide his hand to touch your soft skin, a delicate blush blooms across Shouto’s cheeks. The flustered expression on his face only goads you on, and you lean in to capture his lips.

A muffled noise escapes him, your hand coming up to touch his jaw and rub your thumb against his chin. It only takes him a moment to recalibrate before his free hand rises and copies your actions, gliding down the back of your neck before pulling your face closer to his.

You run your tongue against the seam of his mouth, and he swiftly grants you access as his lips move to follow yours. He tastes like mint and sweet herbs, the tea he was entertaining before you came lingering on his tongue. His hand slips out of yours to curl around your waist, grabbing onto your hip and squeezing. As your kisses start getting heavier and slower, your once-occupied hand moves to land on his chest, your thumb pushing into the tender muscle located there. His flesh jumps beneath your touch, but he allows you to continue groping at him through his shirt, his own hands beginning to knead at you. Before you know it, your knee swings over his thighs and you’re hovering on top of his lap, not sitting down on him just yet as you realize the position you’ve put yourself in.

You can notice the change— you’ve faced this exact scenario many times before. Shouto’s hands freeze up, locking into their current position, and he only returns your passionate kisses, not allowing his body much more movement than that. You try to just keep kissing him, but all the doubts and fears quickly pile up inside of you, and you pull away from him. You can’t even look at him. You’re too scared to speak, and too reluctant to get off of him, only leaning back to create a divide between his face and yours. Trying to hide your face before he can see your defeated expression, you dive into his chest, arms folding tight around his neck.

Shouto’s still frozen in place, but he seems to sense your distress. His arms slowly circle around your waist, fingers moving to trace up and down your spine. He softly exhales against your hair, letting out the breath he was holding in ever since you swung onto his lap. “Y/N? Are you alright?” he asks quietly after a brief pause, his voice soft and low, soothing to your wary ears. “You haven’t been acting like yourself today…”

After a long pause, you sigh, trying your best not to get emotional. “It’s just…” I’m so fucking attracted to you but you won’t let me touch you, you want to say, but you’re too terrified to say it aloud. What can you even say to him that would be better than that?

Shouto’s arms around you squeeze gently, indicating his patience in awaiting your answer. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips grazing over your ear and placing a discreet kiss there. “Whatever it is, we can face it together.”

You let out a soft sniffle and Shouto pulls you tighter into his chest, his heart cracking at your sound of sadness. But his words bring a surprising amount of comfort to you, and you clear your throat before you lean back again, looking into his two-toned irises. His gaze is sympathetic, his eyes holding a visible amount of affection and support. “Well, I…”

He nods slightly, leaning forward to show his encouragement. “Go ahead, love…”

“Are… Are you attracted to me?”

It comes out more high-pitched than you would’ve liked, but at least it’s out— and he definitely heard you, judging from the wide-eyed shock painted across his face.

“Am I— What?” He stutters, his head tilting automatically in confusion. “I— of course I’m attracted to you, I’m… you’re my girlfriend.” Shouto looks at you incredulously, his arms falling to his side so that only his hands remain on your hips. “You’re the most attractive person I know, love. You’re gorgeous, inside and out,” he elaborates. “The whole package.”

His compliments butter you up, a small smile forming on your lips as you shyly look to your hands folded in your lap. “Not the whole package…” you mumble, squirming slightly as his hands come to hold either side of your face.

“Yes, the whole package,” he insists, nuzzling your nose against his. “Beautiful,” he declares as he kisses your cheek.

“Kind.” A smooch to the other cheek.

Your heart beats excitedly in your chest, thumping loudly against your ribs with each compliment.

“Courageous.” A kiss to the chin.

“Witty.” A peck to the forehead.

“Sexy?” you blurt it out just as he swoops in to press his lips to yours.

Shouto falters, pulling back just a hair as he looks at you in shock. “S-Sexy?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but by the way his cheeks and ears are tinged a bright pink, it’s clear your suggestion was a bit too much for him.

The way he stutters out the adjective in confusion has your heart tearing in two. “Y-You don’t…?”

You’re staring directly at him, his wide eyes locked with yours and his body frozen to the couch. His lips are slightly parted, but no words come out of him.

Silence.

This is not how you want this conversation to go— you aren’t prepared for it to go like this. The tears you had successfully fought off before come back with vengeance.

Only once Shouto sees you hang your head in embarrassment, your eyes getting glassier by the second, he springs into action. “Hey, no, that’s not…” he starts to speak, sounding more worried by the second. His hand goes to cup your face, the warmth of his quirk evident in his touch as his finger dries over a fresh track of tears on your cheek. “I… of course I think you’re sexy, love. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise… You don’t think I know how sexy you are?”

You can only reply with a lame shrug, unwilling to let his eyes meet yours as you hide your face behind your curtain of hair. You try to slide off his lap, ready to retreat to the bathroom and wipe away your pathetic tears, but Shouto doesn’t let you move away from him, his arms locking tight around your waist and forcing you to lean against his chest.

“Talk to me, baby,” he pleads, nuzzling into the side of your face. His voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard before, and you hate to admit your stomach is doing cartwheels at how sweet he’s being. “I love you no matter what, and I hate to see you so upset. I’m not good at figuring these things out on my own, just tell me what’s wrong, love. Please?”

He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, his fingers massaging your stiff muscles as you cling onto him. Once you’re confident enough to speak, your words come out barely loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just that… whenever I think we’re about to take it to the next level, you pull away. I want to respect your boundaries, Sho, but I can’t help but feel like it’s because you don’t… want me.” The hands on your body still at that, your boyfriend taking in a sharp breath as you pause, then decide to continue. “I’m just… so attracted to you, Shouto… I want to be mindful of your limits, but I can’t help but want to touch you all the time. I’m— I’m sorry if that sounds indecent.”

Shouto murmurs your name lowly against your ear, his large palm once again rubbing over your spine in an effort to comfort you as he tries to piece together the correct words. “This is… a terrible miscommunication, and it’s all my fault...�� he sighs, his voice dropping lower and becoming quieter, his insecurities leaking into his voice. “I’m so sorry to have made you feel like this… I promise that’s not the case.”

His words are enough to numb your worries, and you lean back so you’re able to look him in the eye as you wait for him to continue. He takes a deep breath before he sighs again, knowing he has to tell you the truth now, but worrying that he’s about to ruin everything the two of you have built over these past months.

“The reason that I push you away every time is… well, I—” he gulps nervously, and it’s your turn to look at him with encouragement. You take one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as he tries to find the best way to explain his reasoning. “It’s not because you’re unattractive, it’s— I mean, if anything, you’re too… too attractive, and I get…” he trails off, his cheeks now a bright shade of pink that you’ve never really seen before. It’s the first time you’ve seen the usually collected man so flustered, and a part of you feels guilty for causing him such discomfort. Just as you’re about to cut in and tell him he doesn’t have to continue, he does. “I… I’ve never been with anyone… like that before.”

You blink at him in confusion.

Shouto just seems to get even pinker, and he quickly starts explaining himself as he takes in your dazed expression. “I know you probably thought I had all this experience because I’ve been a top Hero for some time now, but I just— I never met anyone before that cared about me like this and I just never wanted to do— well, to do that with a stranger.”

“You’re… a virgin?”

Shouto’s red at this point, his hot side nearly catching fire as he buries his face behind his hand, too embarrassed to face you at this point. “Yes, I’m sorry to disappoint you, love. I just… I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I— I wanted to impress you so badly, Y/N. I… I should’ve told you this from the start, I’m so sorry to have caused you such doubt.”

His voice is just above a whisper now, his fingers clutching onto the fabric of your shirt as if he’s afraid you’ll get off his lap and walk straight out the front door at his confession. “Shouto…” You can’t stop the smile that begins to curl the corners of your mouth. This is the reason he wouldn’t go any further with you? Not because he didn’t find you attractive? Your heart feels heavy thumping against your ribcage, giddiness flooding your bloodstream.

Your boyfriend gapes at your smile, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you’re not… disappointed?” At the instant shake of your head, his discomfort eases significantly. “R-Really? But everyone thinks I’m, well… kind of a womanizer I guess, I thought you’d at least expect—”

You click your tongue at him, shaking your head as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “When have I ever given a shit about others’ expectations of you, Shouto? I love you for you, Sho… you make me so happy just as you are.”

Shouto melts at your words, a sigh of relief escaping his lungs as he crushes you to his chest. Your sweet scent fills his nose as he kisses the top of your head, and you bask in his touch as you hug him back. “You’re right, love, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… I hate that you felt unwanted because of me. I promise, you’re the only one I’ve ever felt this way about, I— I’m so attracted to you as well. I love you so much.”

Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, all the hurt and doubts that built over the last few months dissolving into the shadows. Only the light, warm feeling of your love is left behind, glowing brighter than ever before.

Shouto’s fingers crawl up the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips before you allow him entrance. Your fingers push into his silky hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp and he groans at the action, letting your tongue take control and invade his mouth instead. Your breaths starting to become ragged, you both pull away for a moment to breathe. As you look into each others’ eyes, you both begin to laugh softly, the pair of you equally content with how your heart-to-heart had gone.

“So, you do think I’m sexy, then?” You smirk, pleased with this new knowledge.

Shouto chuckles, nudging your face to the side so he can place a trail of kisses down the column of your throat. “Is that all you got from that?” He teases, nipping at your skin playfully.

You close your eyes, enjoying how his love bites feel on your quickly-heating flesh. “One of a few things…” Your breathing becomes deeper as his lips begin to gently suck on the faded marks he’d just made. “Mmm, Sho~”

He hums as your arms wrap tight around his shoulders, tongue caressing the skin he’s sucked into his mouth. Your thighs twitch on either side of his lap when he pulls away, cold breath cooling the wet, darkened patch of skin on your throat. He swears under his breath as his hands trail down your waist to your hips, thumbs resting on the top of your bottoms.

“Would you, um… want to try something new, then?” You offer, sitting back to look him in the eye, ready to catch any amount of uncertainty in his two-toned gaze. But you find none, for he captures your lips again and nibbles on your bottom lip, another hum or approval vibrating against your mouth.

From there he hands the reins to you, opting to lean back into the cushions of the sofa as your tongue guides his in a slow embrace. Your palms both land on his chest, fingertips starting to massage the thick muscles underneath his t-shirt. Shouto sighs as your hands slide down his torso, and just as they dip underneath he sits up slightly, tearing the flimsy material over his head in one quick sweep. With the fabric out of your way, you try to keep yourself calm, your eyes now feasting on his broad, sculpted chest and abs. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth at the wonderful sight, your tongue poking out to wet your lips as you scan over his physique again and again.

Just as he’s about to make fun of your lustful stare, you move in to place a few light kisses to his jaw and neck, the action making him tense up and flex his gorgeous torso for you. Careful not to leave any marks on his throat, you make your way down his chest, taking a moment to leave a ring of wet smooches around his nipple. The muscles jump again for you, his body sensitive to your foreign touch as you slowly take the bud into your mouth, sucking just enough for him to squirm.

“That kind of… ahh, tickles,” Shouto mumbles as your tongue traces over his skin, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move to the other side of his chest and repeat the action. He sighs as you pull away, welcoming the kiss you place on his lips afterwards. His abs become rigid underneath the slow trail of your fingernails that move south, his eyes opening mid-way through the kiss as your hand grows closer and closer to his pelvis.

Just as he’s about to pull away, you move back from his mouth, your shirt flying over your head and onto the floor behind you. Shouto can barely breathe as he looks at your bare skin, the smooth expanse of your shoulders to your hips on display for him, save for the bra covering your chest. He’s fixated on the tops of your breasts, the round, smooth flesh mesmerizing him completely. Sure, he’s seen your cleavage before, but in comparison to this, that’s nothing.

“W-Wow…” he falters, struggling to tear his gaze off of them. There’s a little bow in the middle of the cloth contraption, and he can’t help but compare the sight before him to a present. Oh, how he wants to unwrap it…

You giggle at his awe-struck expression, your self-esteem soaring higher than it has in months. Just as you’re about to instruct him, he moves a hand to cup one side of your bra, his thumb running over your skin. A whimper escapes you when he squeezes you, his face moving closer so that the tip of his nose runs across your collarbone, his lips ghosting kisses across your chest. You wonder if he can feel your heart racing beneath his lips as they trace the cusp of your bra— how it races when he presses his face between your tits, inhaling the warm, clean smell of you that lingers there. “M-Mphhh, Sho…” you sigh as he sucks a hickey into your skin, his mouth pulling your flesh out from under the fabric cup.

Your hands fumble as they move behind your back to undo the clasp, but Shouto doesn’t have time for that, it seems. Instead, he opts to push the straps from your shoulders, tugging the bottom of the material down your ribs and completely exposing your chest to him without ever moving his mouth from your skin. You still manage to unclasp the confining material, letting it fall to the ground without a care. When he does finally let go of you, he moves back to examine your naked chest, his lower lip disappearing between his straight, white teeth. His eyes are half-lidded, and he dives straight back into your chest, circling around your areola with swift kisses and teasing licks, repeating the same process you had done to him. His warm mouth enveloping your nipple makes you let out a stifled cry, your hips jerking against his lap on their own accord.

Shouto moans at the movement, his hand gently squeezing your other breast as he sucks on the pert bud in his mouth, tongue swirling around it with ease. You reposition so your legs are on either side of one of his, placing your clothed core against the rough material of his jeans and beginning to move your hips in slow, wide movements. It only urges Shouto on, for he switches his attention to the other side of his chest and repeats the same ministrations there, one hand coming to cup your ass and move in tune with your slow gyrations.

At this point you can feel yourself leaking onto your panties, your excitement only multiplying as he allows you to grind against him. You’d never imagined he’d be so eager to touch you, after so much time of him rejecting your advances. But you couldn’t care about that now, with your pussy brushing all over his muscular thigh and his mouth attacking your bare chest. The thrill only increases further when you readjust your hips, moving closer to him and feeling the hardness of his erect cock tucked into the front of his pants. You can feel your cunt twitching around nothing, drooling even more for him as you rub yourself against his front, your head falling back as you start to pant.

Shouto whines at the friction, his face falling into the corner of your neck as he tries to gather himself. Was this what he had been missing out on all this time? He sighs as he wonders what you look like completely naked— how you would look with your legs spread for him, wrapped around his skull, or better yet— his waist. The knowledge that you want him is too tempting— he can’t get enough of you, can’t stop himself from shoving his thumbs under the hem of your bottoms. And then you’re standing, letting your clothing hit the floor and leaving yourself exposed for his eyes, save for your panties which have another little bow at the front. His eyes travel up and down your legs— a part of you that has always attracted him, perhaps a bit too much. They look delicious presented like this before him, bare and inviting all along your calves and thighs, then leading to the panties that barely cover your hips. His cock twitches in his jeans as he inspects the marks he’d just made all across your chest, a possessive conscience inside of him murmuring its satisfaction.

“Is this okay?” You ask as you sink to your knees in front of the couch, looking up at him with cautious, yet lust-ridden eyes. The recognition of your desire makes his own appetite spike, and he nods his affirmation to you.

You smirk up at him, moving closer to him and sliding between his legs. He holds his breath as you start to kiss up his thigh, starting from the inside of his knee and moving your way toward your destination. Your hand reaches up to soothe down his chest, your other hand cupping the underside of his thigh and moving in sync with your mouth. Your fingers finally meet the button on his jeans, and he lets out the breath he was holding as you undo the metal zipper. He helps you peel the denim off his thighs, leaving the material bunched at his knees as you inspect his hard member through his tight, black boxer-briefs. You take a moment to thank whatever God there is for blessing you with such a nice cock; you can tell even through his underwear that he’s long, and thick.

The very tip pokes out of the band at the top, him having tucked it up at some point when the pair of you were initially making out. What you can see is dark pink and glazed with a pearlescent sheen of pre-cum, the material at the top of his briefs slightly damp. The legs on either side of you keep tensing and fidgeting, and as you reach a hand for his shaft his hips shift backwards, away from your touch.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, stroking his thigh as you look up at him. His expression is guarded, but you can see the uncertainty that shines through his gaze, the mask that successfully keeps others out futile to you. “Are you sure you want to continue? It’s okay if we stop here, baby.” You push yourself to sit taller using the tops of his knees, placing a long kiss to his cheek and giving him a nuzzle of understanding.

Shouto frowns, leaning into you and taking a deep breath. “No, I want to… I just, I guess I’m a little nervous? I’m not quite sure what to do…” he explains, unsure of himself.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reply, kissing his cheek again as you continue. “Just sit back and relax, baby. I promise I’m gonna take care of you, gonna make you feel so good. Let me know if you want to stop at any time, alright?”

He smiles at your understanding, nodding and verbalizing an “Alright” before you capture his lips with yours. You kiss him with all the passion you can muster, and it distracts him enough to relax into the couch cushions, your hand coming up to cup his sharp jawline. Your tongues are busy tangling together when your hand lands on his abs, which jump under your touch but eventually they, too, relax after a few minutes.

When your fingers wrap around his cock through his briefs, he tenses underneath you again, his hips pushing toward you as your hand starts to move up and down. Shouto makes a muffled noise as your hand finds a steady, torturously slow rhythm, your hand squeezing around his thick shaft through the dark, cotton material. His hand comes up to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling slightly. You move your hand in accordance with the muffled sounds that escape him through your kiss, his hushed moans adding fuel to the inferno in your stomach.

After a few minutes of your slow, over-the-briefs handjob, you move back from his searing kiss, a string of saliva extending between your mouths. Your eyes lock with his, intensity sizzling as you both move the briefs off his legs, his cock springing upright in the bottom field of your vision. His length jumps when your fingers brush against the tip, gathering the silvery slickness of his pre-cum and using it to coast your fist down around his shaft, squeezing just enough to create a pleasant tightness around him.

Shouto swears as you start to jerk your fist around his thickness, your smaller hand creating a different sensation and much more appealing visual than the sight of his own fingers wrapped around himself. He moans when your hand glides over the head of his cock, his grip tightening on your hair as his eyelids flutter closed. You kiss his cheek again, catching his attention as he turns to you and allows your tongue to enter his mouth. You take all the whimpers pouring from his lips and greedily swallow them, your lips dancing with his in tune with your strokes.

Slowly you move away from his face, his lips following yours until you gently push him back to rest against the back of the sofa again. He allows you to move him backwards, heaving for air as your hot and heavy kisses leave him breathless. Once you lower your face to his lap, he tenses up, although his hips shuffle forward eagerly. You make sure to lock eyes with him as you move your mouth towards the flushed head of his cock, and you keep his gaze steady as your lips wrap around the very tip of him.

“S-Shit Y/N,” he gasps, watching as his member gradually disappears into your mouth. You glide your lips down his thick length slowly, trying not to overwhelm him as you start to suck on the tip, your hand beginning to jerk his shaft at the same time. When your lips move down, so does your hand, and as Shouto becomes accustomed to the wet, tight heat of your mouth, you slowly take more and more of him into your mouth, until the head of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Shouto throws his head back onto the top of the cushions, a hand pushing his hair off his forehead and backwards as he loudly voices his pleasure in a cacophony of moans.

The noises that slither out of the man underneath you are delicious, and you can’t seem to get enough as your pace begins to pick up. Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his length, his cock too big to fit all the way in your throat, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to take him anyways. Pulling back just long enough to take in a breath of fresh air, you smile at his wrecked expression above you, tongue tracing over your lips. “Mmm, does that feel good, baby? Do you like when I suck your cock like this?”

“Ahhaaaa, fuck— y-yeah, like that, baby… yesyesyes you feel so good,” Shouto blabbers nearly incoherently as your throat glides around his aching member. Given his stuttered response, you happily service him, content to finally have him at your disposal. His length is too impressive to comfortably fit in your mouth, your jaw stretching to accommodate him as you swallow around him, successfully stealing a broken gasp from him in response. You close your eyes and allow yourself to focus on keeping a steady rhythm for both your mouth and hand to follow. His moans just keep getting louder, a breathless array of oh, fuck, shit, yeah, ahh, and yeses with every bob of your head.

As you’re diligently sucking him off, Shouto is barely keeping it together underneath you. His cock is twitching and leaking pre-cum down your throat, his balls heavy with the need to release. He watches your lips move up and down his length, your hand following suit at the very base. His mind wanders as he wonders where you want him to finish; inside your mouth, on your tits, on your face? He groans as he pictures all three, imagining you covered in his sticky seed, wherever it may end up, has him feeling close much too quick. But he can’t stop himself, and he can’t bring himself to stop you, either— you feel so fucking good on his cock. You’re better than he ever could imagine, and it’s just your mouth that’s wrapped around him— he can’t even imagine how between your legs will feel. He barely manages to mumble your name in warning as he feels his climax coming, too charged for him to do anything to stop it.

Luckily you already know he’s about to finish, for his muscles tighten up and strain as ample warning for his imminent release. You move your lips down his cock, taking in as much as you can before he’s calling out your name and shooting a thick, heavy load down your throat. You choke on his release, not much room in your mouth to begin with, with how long and thick he is already. He’s still gushing cum as you pull off of him, a few ropes of white spraying across your lips and chin while his body shakes in ecstasy.

You sit back and wipe his release off your face with your wet hand, licking the excess off your skin as you watch Shouto’s soul return to his body. He’s struggling to catch his breath, eyes barely open as he looks down at you sitting between his legs. Despite the heaviness in his limbs, he still gathers your arms in his hands, pulling you up onto the sofa to hover over his lap. He sighs as he nuzzles his face into your neck, your soft skin helping to draw him back from the euphoric heaven you had just sent him to. His arms wrapping around you loosely, he starts to kiss your neck, his long eyelashes tickling your jaw as he showers your skin in affection. His attention makes butterflies flap around inside your stomach, and that scorching heat ignites again as his fingers slide down your waist to the band of your panties.

You try to draw back to look at him, but Shouto’s grip on you is too secure, and he won’t let you pull away from him as he just nuzzles deeper into your neck. You can’t help but gasp when his fingers dive underneath the sides of your panties— his palms gliding against your bare hips and digits splaying across your ass. “S-Sho,” you whine as he cups your ass cheeks, pulling your hips to slot above his, his cock already erect again. You whimper when he guides you closer to him, the very tip of his cock catching at just the right angle to brush against the wet patch on your underwear. Hell, the whole underside of your panties is soaked with your arousal, your pussy probably more saturated than ever before. You’re so turned on, you can’t think straight as your hips begin to weakly shift back and forth, rubbing his cockhead along your clothed slit.

Shouto sighs as his hand recedes from your panties, instead moving to rub your dripping slit through the drenched material. You moan at the feeling of his hand through the fabric, your slick in such quantity that when he pulls his hand away, a thick string of your arousal trails after his fingers. He groans at the sight, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together to test the viscosity. He makes a mental note that this must be what’s meant when one has a “wap”, or “wet ass pussy”, as he recalls from a certain song. His heart is racing in his chest, the discovery of your cunt so ready for him only making his cock strain harder against your sopping panties.

“So wet…” Shouto mumbles as he touches you again, cupping your core through your underwear and rubbing his palm against your clit. He watches intently as your face contorts in pleasure, and he rolls his palm against your front again experimentally, making a mental note of your increased sensitivity there.

Before he moves any further though, he presses his lips to yours in an intense kiss, successfully distracting you as he slides your underwear to the side. He can feel your pussy twitch and contract against his hand when he lines the tips of two fingers up with the hole that your slick is pouring out of. And he can definitely feel you spasm around him as he slides the digits inside with ease, remembering to curl the tips of them just as the countless guides and videos he had watched in preparation for such activities suggested.

“Y-Yes, ahh my God, Sho—” you gasp at the intrusion, your walls fluttering around the fingers.

His long digits slowly move in and out of you, the tips curling into your spongy walls as they sheath inside you completely. You moan at the sensation of his fingers inside of you, moving a hand to your front to rub your clit. It’s not long before you’re humping his hand, your arousal leaking onto his palm as you seat your hips back and forth on his fingers. Your mouth is hanging open, intense pleasure emanating from his fingertips rubbing that gummy spot located just deep enough for your fingers to be too short to reach. You can feel your orgasm building with each roll of the hips, a slow and steady escalation toward certain ecstasy.

Shouto moans along with you, watching the look of bliss on your face each time you sit back onto his fingers, and committing it to memory. You look absolutely captivating getting off on his hand, but the urge to feel you wrapped around his cock is too strong to ignore. He pulls his hand out of your cunt, watching as the syrupy slick trails after his fingers before severing, the warm, slimy wetness returning to your spread pussy. The sight is too enticing to just look at— he grabs his cock and jerks himself a few times, watching your slick spread across his length. It feels unlike any other lubricant he’s used— spit, lotion, shampoo all nothing in comparison to the sweet nectar your body produces just for him— simply divine.

If he thinks that’s divine, pressing his cock into you is as if the gates of heaven have been exploded open with dynamite, drowning him in a pool of ethereal ambrosia that he never wants to escape. Your walls stretch around his girth and hug him like never before; it’s wetter, tighter, and hotter than anything he’s ever imagined, and if he hadn’t already cum from your mouth just minutes before, he’s sure he would’ve cum right here and now.

You’re just about there, only a third of his cock managing to push into you before your walls start to clamp, that tension in your abdomen intensifying at an alarming rate. You throw your head back and moan unabashedly as his cock glides into you entirely in one movement, your cunt wringing snug around him as you cum. You’d be ashamed if it were with anyone else, but Shouto’s so thick and long that you just let yourself ride out your orgasm, your cunt pulsing and squeezing him tight. It feels like a religious experience cumming on his cock— he’s by far the biggest you’ve ever taken, and it’s been so long since you’ve had sex in the first place that you’re too turned on to care. A fresh wave of slick begins to leak from deep inside you, the aftermath of your abrupt orgasm coming in handy as you finally come-to enough to move your hips.

Shouto’s holding onto you for dear life at this point, knuckles white as his fingers dig bruises into your hips. He’s never been squeezed so tight before— never felt anything like your pussy, like you cumming on his cock. And even though he’s overwhelmed with the mesmerizing feeling, he still manages to keep his cool somehow, now evening his breath as he begins to thrust up into you. He decides he loves your moans— every noise you make from being impaled by his huge cock is music to his ears, a symphony he never wants to end.

“A-Ahaa ha, Shoutooo~” you cry, fireworks bursting across your nerves. “You’re so big, ah— it— it feels so gooood.”

You can’t seem to close your mouth— it’s too hard to focus on anything besides what might as well be his third leg thrusting into you over and over. His movements are relentless; never allowing you to come down from the high you’d been catapulted into with just one stroke of his cock. He’s so big inside of you, he’s probably the largest you can take while still feeling pleasure instead of pain. You feel like you’re the one losing your virginity here, not him— because, God have you never felt so filled to the brim in your life— his cock stretches and penetrates you so deliciously that you feel like any orgasm you’ve had before this doesn’t really count. It can’t count, can’t compare to this, to him.

Shouto is on the same page as you, desperately drilling into your sloppy cunt as if his life depends on it. It feels so good to be squeezed by your tight little hole, to have your fingernails dig crescent-moons into the skin on his shoulder blades, and hear your desperate cries for him. “Fuck, you— you feel so good, baby,” he pants, letting your pussy fall onto his lap and swallow his cock inside of you. “You’re so fucking sexy, y-yeah… so wet for me, so good for me.”

His praise causes a wave of goosebumps to rise across your skin, a burst of energy surging through you as you start to move your hips in sync with his thrusts. Shouto’s pace weakens as he lets you take control, sitting back and absorbing the pleasure that flows through his entire body at the quick snap of your hips. He feels like he’s in a trance as your hands move to grip the tops of his shoulders, leveraging yourself so your hips swing in a perfect arc that allows his cock to glide in and out of you completely. He watches as your hips swing back, the head of his cock slipping out of you halfway, only to be slurped back inside your tight heat all the way to the base.

Sweat is starting to accumulate and drip down your bodies, but neither of you are paying attention to that— Shouto reaches out and gropes your chest, fingers trapping your nipple and rolling it gently. You mewl at the sensation, your hips working even faster now, the dull ache of another climax forming in the pit of your stomach. You furiously hump his lap, your thrusts becoming off-beat and sloppy as your muscles scream with exertion. Frustration blooms in your heart— your stamina must have reduced in the past few months of abstinence.

“Sho, I’m… gonna cum again, fuck I’m so close,” you whine, pushing your ass onto his lap and stirring your guts with his cock as you swivel your hips.

Shouto hums at your confession, an arm winding around your hips and his hand landing on the plush underside of your thigh. His fingers dig into your flesh as he supports your body with his arm, his hips rutting up into yours with force. Each thrust has stars dancing along the borders of your vision, the power behind his hips much stronger than your desperate humping from before.

“I wanna feel you cum on my cock again, Y/N,” Shouto moans, tongue poking out to flick against your nipple, your tits in his face due to the change of position. “Want you to squeeze me and milk everything out of me, y-yeah…”

You nearly scream when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with vigor as those two-toned eyes bore into yours. The surprise quickly morphs into bliss, your cunt wringing around his length as you feel yourself hurtle toward your orgasm for the second time. It’s not long before you’re there, ecstasy rushing through your entirety as you clutch onto him tightly, your toes curling and body shaking from the rush.

“Fuck,” he swears, both hands moving to grab your hips and pound his cock into your quivering cunt, delivering another level of pleasure to your orgasm. His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, eyes darting between your face and your wet pussy that keeps swallowing him whole. “Ahaah— c-cumming—”

Shouto lets out a loud groan as he pulls out of you, hot, white ribbons of cum spurting across your stomach as he climaxes. Your hand reaches down to jerk him off and he continues to paint your skin with his seed, his body shaking as his orgasm ripples through him. His throbbing length is slick with your love juices, making it easy for your fingers to slide around him.

His head hits the back of the couch as he releases the last of his load, chest heaving while he tries to collect himself. The devastating pleasure of your climax leaves your body feeling weightless and your brain loopy, and all you can do is lean against his athletic physique and catch your breath.

“I love you,” Shouto whispers seriously in your ear, fingers deftly playing with the ends of your hair. He means it; he feels like his heart is so full of happiness, and he’s so comfortable basking in the afterglow of his orgasm with your naked skin on his.

You stifle the laugh that bubbles up in your throat, a small smile playing on your lips. “So sweet~” you tease, cuddling your face into his neck as his hands rub the length of your back. “I love you too, Shouto.”

Shouto hums in content, arms hugging you tight against him for a brief moment before he relaxes again. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he confesses softly, nudging the side of your face with his nose. He can feel your lips turn into a grin against his chest, and he smiles at your content.

“You’re being so sappy right now,” you point out, unable to stop smiling as you turn to look at him. “I really like this side of you, I’m happy to see you like this.”

“I’m happy, too,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against yours in a sweet and short kiss. “I kind of wish we did this sooner though…”

You laugh at that, and his soft smile turns into a grin that he doesn’t bother to conceal. “Mmm, I think it was worth the wait,” you disagree, snuggling closer to him and rubbing your skin against his affectionately.

Shouto looks down at you resting against his chest, examining your blissful smile and eyes closed in content. Yes, he thinks.

You were worth the wait.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

wow that ended so soft pls excuse me im on my period and so emotional at the moment lmfaoooo... okokokok but post coitus snuggly sho is KILLING M E ... anywAYY lol let me know if you enjoyed!! this was kinda different from the usual smut i write so! i’d love any feedback i could get :)

as always, thanks for reading! 💗

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto smut #todoroki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my fics

2K notes · View notes

cinnaminsvga · 3 years

Text

🌷 social media au where y/n posts an advertisement looking for a new place to stay that is closer to campus, causing seven upperclassmen to make it their mission to recruit her into their dormitories 🌷

A/N: THIS TOOK FOREVER AND I KINDA RUSHED IT AT THE END BUT HOPEFULLY IT MAKES SENSE?? anyway, yoongi didn’t do anything stupid (depending on your definition of stupid) so no need to worry about him being cringey,,, i spared you all from the secondhand embarrassment but i won’t be so kind next time!! anyway... enjoy || W.C. 3.8K

prev // part 11 // next masterlist here.

By the time Seokjin’s phone begins to ring, Yoongi can already feel the dread settle deep inside his bones. The familiar coil of anxiety tightens around his throat like a vice, and Yoongi has to remember how to breathe to keep himself from fainting like a corseted Victorian lady.

“Well, that must be her!” Seokjin chimes, promptly declining your call without a glance. Yoongi catches a glimpse of your contact photo anyway: it’s an unflattering angle of you from below your neck, giving the illusion of a multitude of chins. If it were any other time, Yoongi might have smiled like a lovesick fool.

“Don’t you dare let her in here,” Yoongi seethes. He tries to sound menacing, but the effect is severely diminished by how badly his voice cracks. He tugs at Seokjin by the sleeve, but the older man refuses to budge. “Hyung, I’m serious. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Are you done live-tweeting your confusion now? Finally got the memo? I always knew you were a smart boy,” Seokjin laughs, patting Yoongi on the shoulder with his tomato sauce-covered tongs. “Since we’re on the same page now, why don’t you change clothes while I finish cooking? I know your entire wardrobe is composed of the free t-shirts you got from job fairs, but it would do well to wear a clean, unstained shirt.”

Yoongi swipes at him, hissing like the catboy that he is. “You’re the one who wiped shit on me, asshole. And yes, I figured out what you are trying to do. You think you’re so slick, but I know that you’re just trying to embarrass me in front of Y/N!”

Seokjin shrugs. “It isn’t like I’m trying to be slick. I embarrass you all the time. Besides, I’m setting you up on a date with the love of your life! You should be thanking me, if I’m being honest.”

Yoongi stammers, his jaw dropping in shock. “Love of my–?”

Seokjin waves his tongs in his face, silencing him. “Oh, hush. Don’t even try to hide it, Yoongi. I figured out that you like Y/N. Your weird behavior finally makes sense! After years of you avoiding her, I always thought you were just bad at forming human connections, but turns out you’ve got a gigantic heart boner for my best friend!”

“Please don’t phrase it like that,” Yoongi groans, smashing his head against his kitchen counter. He hopes a few brain cells might have died, just so he can stop processing the words coming out of Seokjin’s mouth. “Actually, just please stop talking.”

Seokjin snorts in exasperation as if Yoongi was the dramatic one between them. “Point is, this is a favor that I’ve chosen to grant you from the goodness of my heart! As I said, I’m giving you the love life you deserve! So stop whining and get moving before Y/N gets up here.”

“There isn’t any goodness nor a heart inside of you. And more importantly, when was the last time you did anything for free, you capitalist bastard!”

Seokjin clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Yoongi-chi. You’ve already paid me for my services by offering me front row seats to watch you lose your fucking mind. And that, my friend, is priceless.”

“Aha! So you do admit that this is all just a ploy to humiliate me!” Yoongi shouts. He grabs a knife from his scabbard, pointing it threateningly at Seokjin. He doesn’t even flinch, instead gently guiding Yoongi by the wrist over to the chopping board where he had placed some garlic cloves beforehand. Without prompting, Yoongi’s hand begins to move, his culinary instincts taking over.

“Yes and no,” Seokjin admits as he grabs Yoongi’s cast iron pan from the top shelf (which he has never gotten to use since he bought it, ever since Seokjin had borrowed it once and placed it too high for him to retrieve.) “I’m honestly trying to help you out here, my dude. Besides, even if shit hits the fan, Y/N isn’t gonna think any less of you. She’s too much of an idiot to resent anyone.”

“Speaking from experience?” Yoongi huffs, eyeing him with intense vitriol. “Can’t say I understand how she’s gone this long without killing you.” The next time the two of them are alone together in the wilderness, he can’t promise that his hands won’t find their way around Seokjin’s throat, and it won’t be sexy.

“Hmm. Yeah, definitely,” he says, nodding absentmindedly. As he begins to season the steak, he hands the cast iron pan to Yoongi. “Start preheating this. We need it to be smoking hot before we can place the steak on there.”

“I know how to cook a steak, fucker. And who said you’re allowed to serve my Wagyu steak? I was saving that for a special occasion!”

Seokjin looks up from his ministrations long enough to raise a brow at him. “So going on your first ever date with Y/N isn’t considered a special occasion?”

Yoongi falters, eyes widening. “N-no, that’s not what I mean!” he defends hotly, but he quickly snaps out of it. “Wait, no! This is not a date! Not when both parties did not agree to any of this!”

Seokjin pauses from his cooking to place a perfectly manicured hand on his hip. “I mean, Y/N agreed to it, so are you going to reject her? Huh? Too good for her and my spaghetti?”

Yoongi scoffs, rolling his eyes. “No, she did not agree to this. She doesn’t even know you’re forcing her to eat lunch with me.”

“How can you say that with such certainty?” Seokjin challenges, puffing his cheeks. “You don’t even know what I told her!”

Except I do know what you said, Yoongi thinks darkly to himself. And more importantly, I know what she thinks you were implying. He is pretty sure that the words “crush on him during high school” have seared themselves underneath his eyelids forevermore.

But instead, he says, “Yeah, well. If what you told her is as vague as what you told me, I have a pretty good hunch that this is going to blow up into a huge misunderstanding.”

Like the absolute menace that he is, all Seokjin does is shrug nonchalantly. “Suppose you are right… Who cares? It’s not like the two of you are strangers, so I’m sure this is going to go great!”

“What the fuck? She is a stranger! I’ve literally only spoken two words to her in the past four years!” Yoongi seethes, his temple throbbing from an oncoming migraine.

Seokjin ignores him, as per his want. “Grab that plate, will you? I gotta plate the pasta before Y/N starts calling again to let her into the building,” he says, nudging the tongs into Yoongi’s hands. Yoongi squawks, quickly turning the stove off to keep the food from burning.

Seokjin tears off his (read: Yoongi’s) apron off, wiping his hands on his jeans with a quick smile. “Great! While you finish up here, I’ll distract Y/N for a bit in my room before I lead her in here, alright? You better hurry unless you want to keep her waiting!”

“Oh, like how you kept her waiting downstairs for the past–” Yoongi checks his wall clock, “–seven minutes?”

Seokjin cackles madly, rushing out the door. “Well, that’s where you and I differ, Yoongi-chi! I give no shits about how Y/N thinks about me, so good luck!” After sending Yoongi three flying kisses for good measure, Seokjin slams the door shut, leaving Yoongi to simmer in his bad life choices.

The worst choice that he’s ever made? Being friends with one (1) Kim Seokjin.

“God, just end me,” Yoongi mutters, placing his $80 steak on his pan. It sizzles deliciously, much like how his (nonexistent) love life is about to get burnt to a crisp.

x x x x x

“Took you long enough.” You watch as Seokjin taunts you with a funny little dance by the lobby of his dormitory, the building receptionist not even batting an eye at his eccentricity. That’s the sad side effect of living in close proximity with Seokjin: you start getting desensitized to most things, not even flinching at the sight of a man without a functioning central nervous system.

Seokjin slides his card to open the door, finally allowing you entry. “Sorry. Got busy preparing your lunch! Which by the way, you should be thanking me for.”

“The moment I thank you for anything is the day that you slip on your own cum and die,” you grouse, nudging past him to get on the elevator first. You punch the button for the 5th floor before rapidly trying to close the elevator door on him. Unfortunately, Seokjin makes it in time before his ass gets clamped by the two steel doors.

“Thinking about my cum? Oh my, Y/N… I know you’ve had a dry spell for too long, but I didn’t think you’d be that desperate for some of my butter,” Seokjin says, leaning closely to wink at you.

Against your will, your cheeks brighten furiously, weakly pushing Seokjin away from you. “You wish. At least I don’t spend my spare time loitering outside the campus gym to ogle all the sweaty hot people.”

“And the invitation to join me still stands by the way!” Seokjin singsongs, leaping out of the elevator once you reach his floor. You walk side by side until you reach his room, but you catch him shooting a furtive glance at his next-door neighbor.

“Is Yoongi joining us for lunch?” you ask, failing to keep your curiosity from showing in your voice. If Yoongi does end up joining you for lunch (which has never happened in the past four years, convincing you that he must have a personal grudge against you), then at least it can confirm to you straight away that whatever this “date” is just another prank by Seokjin. You don’t know if you should be disappointed or grateful if it is just a joke.

Seokjin beams in response, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You know what? He is going to join us, actually!”

He had been in the midst of unlocking his dorm when he changes direction, leading you to Yoongi’s door instead. He rifles through his other keys, and you notice one of them looks similar to his own house key, except with a Hello Kitty sticker on it. He pulls that key out and promptly unlocks Yoongi’s door without missing a beat.

What kind of weirdo must Yoongi be to give Seokjin a spare key to his dorm? You’d rather shit out a cactus than let Seokjin have free entry to your home whenever he pleases.

You hesitate by Yoongi’s door, feeling nervous all of a sudden. “Um, Seokjin? Are you sure it’s okay for me to–?”

“HONEY I’M HOOOOME!” Seokjin’s loud guffaw cuts you off before you can finish your question. He bursts through the door and leaves you by the hallway, and you watch as he nearly tackles Yoongi to the ground.

Yoongi, despite looking like he’s half the size of Seokjin on a good day, manages to keep upright despite how his back is now bent parallel to the floor. “Get off me!” he yells, roughly pushing Seokjin off of him.

Seokjin tumbles to the floor, but the shit-eating grin on his face hardly wavers. He points at you by the doorway, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Look, Yoongi-chi! I brought a guest!”

Yoongi spares you half a glance before returning his attention to whatever he was cooking. “I suppose you did.”

Okay, this date is definitely a joke. Why the hell did you even think for a second that Seokjin might have been into you?

“Um,” you stutter nervously. You grind your heel into the carpet self-consciously, your gaze downcast. “Hello, Yoongi. Sorry for the intrusion, by the way…”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi replies, albeit a little curtly. He clears his throat, his face still tilted away from you so you can’t tell if he’s genuinely annoyed or not.

You point a glare at Seokjin, who looks shamelessly pleased with himself. After taking a deep breath, you take your first steps into Yoongi’s home before gently closing the door.

As you look around at your new surroundings, you notice that his home is a lot cleaner than you would have expected, though you’re not exactly sure what you should have expected in the first place. It’s minimalist, but not in a barren type of way; it’s seems like Yoongi is fond of simple designs more than anything. It’s certainly a nice change of pace compared to Seokjin’s abomination of a room, with his vaguely yellow-stained bedsheets.

The smell of freshly cooked pasta and meat being grilled catches your senses immediately. You watch as Yoongi flips over a hefty piece of steak, the aroma causing your mouth to salivate instantly.

“I… What is… Huh?” you start, not knowing what to ask. You catch Seokjin snickering quietly to himself, but promptly shuts up when you mime punching him in the dick.

“It’ll be finished in a second. Why don’t you sit down?” Yoongi announces quietly, his gaze still fixed away from you. Confused but left with no other choice, you tentatively make your way to his couch, unable to relax as your spine remains ramrod straight and your jaw stays clenched.

You hear Seokjin shuffling behind you until he eventually makes his way to sit with you, plopping onto the couch as if it were his home. “Ah… I’m soooo hungry. Smells good, doesn’t it?” he asks you, his brow wiggling too much to be considered normal. Either that, or he was having a stroke.

“Yeah, it does,” you say, greatly uncomfortable. You peek at Yoongi once more, who is still dutifully attending to the steak. Making sure he isn’t looking, you twist Seokjin by the nipple, causing the elder to let out a high-pitched squeal. To an outsider, it might have almost sounded like he was being pleasured.

“Ouch! What the fuck was that for?” Seokjin whines, rubbing his tenderized nipples.

“You know what that was for,” you hiss, keeping your volume low. “What the hell are we doing here? Why are you making Yoongi cook for us?!”

“For us? It’s for you!” Seokjin snaps back. “Didn’t you say you would only come over if you got fed? Well, this is how you get fed!”

“I was under the assumption that you would be feeding me, not him!” you seethe. You check back on Yoongi, who still hasn’t looked your way once. “The poor boy… No wonder he doesn’t like me! He must think I’m as bad as you!”

Seokjin snorts. “Of course he likes you! This whole lunch date wouldn’t have even fucking happened if he wasn’t assdeep in lo–”

“Lunch is finished,” Yoongi interrupts loudly, his spatula rattling loudly against his pan. The sudden noise makes you jump away from Seokjin, who appears vaguely triumphant.

“T-thanks,” you stutter, standing up and resisting the random urge to shake his hand. Everything about this situation is so tense and awkward that it feels like you’re being filmed for a prank Youtube video or something. Knowing Seokjin, the odds of that happening are great.

“That’s my cue to leave then! Bye! You guys have fun!” Seokjin says, jumping to his feet.

You vaguely hear Yoongi gasp quietly when you launch yourself at Seokjin, just narrowly keeping from escaping. “Oh no, you don’t! Who said you could leave? You’re not going anywhere!”

But like the slippery snake that he is, Seokjin manages to wriggle out of your arms and hop over Yoongi’s coffee table to get to the door. “Too bad! I have classes to get to, so I gotta blast! Use this time to get to know each other or whatever it is that kids do these days,” he says, winking salaciously. With one final sputter of (evil) laughter, Seokjin makes his exit, leaving you and Yoongi to fester in some good ol’ fashioned discomforting silence.

“Um,” you say, just as Yoongi opens his mouth to say something too.

“No, you go first–”

“You go ahead–”

The two of you pause mid-sentence, staring at each other. You grin sheepishly at him, motioning for him to speak first.

He returns your smile half-heartedly. “So, um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry for letting Seokjin rope you into this. I tried stopping him, but… You know how he is.”

You laugh, sounding a little crazed even to your own ears. That’s the longest sentence you’ve ever heard him speak!

“Yeah, believe me… I am intimately aware of how he is. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t,” you joke.

Amazingly, your little quip makes his smile widen, his cheeks puffing up imperceptibly. “Glad we can agree that Seokjin has the amazing ability to ruin people’s lives. It’s almost welcoming to find solidarity in a shared experience.”

“Shared experience? Try shared trauma. That dude is a walking serotonin sucker,” you say dryly.

You don’t think what you said was remotely funny enough to warrant a laugh, but it causes Yoongi to let out a loud snort regardless. But the amusement on his face is short-lived, his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He slaps a hand to his mouth, breaking eye contact once more. “Oh fuck, that was so unflattering,” he groans, clearly mortified.

His blush, multiplied by his shy demeanor, makes you want to coo at him, but you doubt he’d take that too kindly. So instead, you change the subject to save him. “So, uhh… The food? You don’t have to give me any, by the way. I wouldn’t want you to waste your lunch on me or anything.”

Yoongi snaps out of his previous embarrassment, returning to the more familiar stoic expression you’ve come to associate with Yoongi. “No, that’s fine. Seokjin–er, rather… I made enough for two people, so it would be a waste if you didn’t eat at least some of it. But I don’t care either way if you want it or not.”

For two people? you wonder. So Yoongi had known Seokjin wasn’t going to join for lunch?

“Oh, if it’s fine with you…” you trail off, meekly making your way towards him. The spaghetti and steak look absolutely delicious, though you don’t need to tell him that when your stomach speaks for you. “Oh shit, that’s so embarrassing,” you say, your cheeks heating up this time.

Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head. “Haven’t eaten breakfast yet, I assume? That’s pretty stupid if you ask me. Don’t you have class until 5? How the hell would you have survived until then?”

You choke in surprise. Where did all that sass suddenly come from? “Excuse me? I’m not stupid! I would’ve been fine with a sandwich from the cafeteria if you must know!” you say indignantly. You’re too busy being offended that you don’t fully comprehend his words, failing to notice how he had known you had class until 5 in the first place.

“Sure, whatever you say.” Rolling his eyes, Yoongi starts shifting through his cupboards and pulling out a pink tupperware. He begins to load them with food, nearly overflowing the containers with how much he tries to stuff in them.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“Packing your lunch. You have class in a bit, yeah? It’s almost 11:50 and it takes around 15 minutes to get to the main campus. You won’t have time to eat here and make it in time,” he says, pointing you with a look. “Wait. Did you have coffee this morning?”

“Yeah? So?” you ask, defensive. “Are you gonna call me stupid again for not having caffeine or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “If you’re caffeinated, then that means it should only take you 7 minutes to get to class.”

“That doesn’t even make sense!” you exclaim, but you can’t help letting out an incredulous laugh. “Wow. You’re kinda weird, did you know that?”

“You barely even know me, so how would you know?” he retorts. He finishes placing food into the tupperware and promptly clicks the lid in place. He offers it to you, smirking slightly.

You huff, but your ire is all for show. You aren’t actually annoyed by him–he’s just… different from what you expected. A little shy, a little rough around the edges… but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You understand why Seokjin loves to torment him; he seems like a fun person to tease.

“That can be amended,” you respond, taking the tupperware from him. Your fingers graze the backs of his hand by accident, causing him to quickly retract his hand as though he’d been burned. You nearly drop the container in surprise, but luckily your reflexes save your precious food just in time.

“Sorry. About… you know.” Yoongi gesticulates wildly, his gaze darting anywhere but at you.

You smile secretly to yourself, amused. Ah. He’s like a human seesaw. Blushy one second and grumpy the next. “No worries, Yoongi. I’ll be sure to return this container soon, so don’t you worry.”

Yoongi shrugs. “Keep it if you want. I don’t care either way.”

Says the guy who has an entire cupboard full of color coordinating food containers. “Roger that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi walks you out the door, pausing outside the hallway with you. “Do you…” he hesitates, swallowing loudly enough for you to hear. “Do you… want me to walk you out?”

His sudden offer almost makes you want to laugh, but you have a feeling he wouldn’t find it amusing at all. Instead, you just shake your head with a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t get lost. I think I remember where the door is.”

He pouts, his lips jutting out cutely. “Yeah, well. I was just trying to be nice, but you do you.”

You giggle lightly, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You were more than nice,” you say, winking for added effect. It does more than you thought it would, causing Yoongi’s cheeks to bloom once more.

With one last wave, you make your way out of the dormitory, your heart a little lighter than before.

“Huh. That was weird.” You glance at the pink little tupperware in your hands, its warmth keeping your hands safe from the winter chill. As you walk to class, your thoughts are filled with nothing but a shy boy with soft hands and even softer cheeks. Maybe Tuesday isn’t going to be so bad after all.

#btsghostie #bts social media au #bts smau #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fluff #bts #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #seokjin x reader

431 notes · View notes

matchamorphosis · 3 years

Note

MS ROSIE THAT HEADCANNON OMFG MAY I PRETTY PLEASE REQUEST DADDY ARI- maybe like hes busy with work but youre really needy so he lets you ride his thigh i lub mean daddy ari🥺<33333

𝐶𝐴𝑁𝐷𝑌 𝐶𝑂𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐷 𝐶𝐻𝐸𝑅𝑈𝐵

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || Ari hasn’t been paying you much attention and so you take matters in your own hands as well as your short cherry skirt.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || smut smut smut

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || alt. AU — daddy!ari levinson × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw, thigh riding, masochism, kinda dark!ari, spanking, hair pulling, lots of edging, tons of crying, Ari is a big meanie :(( MINORS DNI — 18+ INTERACTION ONLY

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || candy by doja cat

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || yes jasmeen of course you can!! 🥺💗 i’m gonna make daddy!ari extra mean and dirty for you and i’m gonna add a little bit of bratty reader cause in this house we love mean daddies and spoiled brats! 💗💗💗

Ari’s eyes follow the screen to the stacks of paperwork in front of him. all this was due by the end of the week and he still didn’t file the information from the online form to the files laying on his desk.

there were times where Ari broke some work related limits of hours upon hours of desk work fueled by caffeine and your kisses of encouragement but then again he did have his limits.

these were those times but no matter how much he promised himself he’d take a break, meaning to check up on you and see what you’ve been up to. although time seemed to pass and Ari hadn’t realize that that side note was forgotten three hours ago on the account of his mind relentlessly kept on reeling him back into his paperwork.

the large coffee mug you made him at a pottery class sits besides a stack of files is pushing its fifth refill of the day as Ari pours the remaining bitter black liquid from the coffeepot. the dark black liquid flowing into the yellow painted, honeypot shaped mug.

it makes him smile at the memory of when you gifted it to him, wrapped in sparkly wrapping paper he presses kisses all over your face in gratitude. he always complained on needing a mug since he always dropped them and he was certain to never drop of break this special mug his princess made him.

its sudden with the loose grip he has on the coffee mug that the coffee spills over the brink of the mug and onto a few papers. the action causes Ari to blurt out an aggregated scold before fanning out the papers soaked in coffee to the side near a fan.

sitting back down on his chair his eyes look over the work he has completed. stapling and putting away documents that have been signed and filed out as well as closing off tabs that weren’t important anymore-

he still has more work cut out for him

his rushing thoughts and swift hands bearing a pen and the other a computer mouse, his head shoots up as a rhythm like knock echoes at the home office door. “come in,”

the low rumble of his voice speaks out as his eyes and attention to back on the papers in his grasps. sipping on his black coffee, slightly sweetened in his desired cream and sugar packets, his focus and eyes stick to his paperwork.

the door opens to reveal you, slightly irritated and desperate for attention from your daddy. you were certain with your presence and the way your heels clack against the flooring he would lift his head up. adjust the small glasses on the brink of his nose and acknowledge you, tell you that you look cute today or stop writing all together but it doesn’t spark interest to him at all.

thin spectacles on the brink of his nose, loose curtains of hair rest on the sides of his face. as you take steps closer you can see the worn out exhaustion in his blue hues and the deep darkness of his under eye bags. daddy hasn’t slept great in days, always joining you in bed in the early morning hours and waking before you can. so now knowing that your mission for attention might not be the best idea, you know when your daddy gets like this.

it’s best to leave him work but it wasn’t healthy for him to overwork. it’s stress none stop about getting work done cause it wasn’t good for daddy! and despite you feeling a burn in your belly that you wanted to deny and push aside for him...

even you had your limits of being deprived from his embraces, praises and touches.

a solid three days it’s been that Ari has been glued behind his desk. it irked you how demanding his job was but you had to be his supportive princess, he needed all the support and encouragement. even if it meant to ignore the wetness in between your thighs that needed to be catered and handled by your daddy then so be it...

maybe you can get a bit of attention, a morsel of affirmation from him and you’ll be set to go. maybe you shouldn’t have worn the outfit you have on if you now just want a praise of two but you don’t hesitate to get comfortable. settling in one of the form fitting arm chairs at the far corner of your daddy’s office near the towering bookshelves and his hanged degrees.

admiring how smart and brave your daddy is with his degrees, certificates and honors as you play with the little charm bracelet he gave you. throwing one smooth leg over the other your mini skirt rakes up to reveal your upper thighs but still covering up what little you’re trying to hide. you liked dressing up pretty for daddy and he did to, today was no exception cause you were planning on cheering him up.

when he would finally realize you were here- you roll your eyes as he takes another sip of coffee. taking all your necessities that you stuffed in your Strawberry Shortcake book bag, you laid the elements of entertainment on the coffee table in front of you near the plush armchairs.

one of your lisa frank coloring books being thrown across the expansive wooden tabletop, you take out your bright vivid gel pens and pastel markers from your coloring pouch. and by taking out you unzip the pink pouch and turn it upside down for it all to fall on the table.

the clashing plastic crash of your coloring tools against the polished tabletop alert Ari- his head shooting up as his eyes meet your distanced body uncapping a scented marker and opening a page of the coloring book.

“princess? I didn’t see you, what are you doing here?” his voice breaks as he drops the pen in his hands briefly, softly smiling as he sees your face driven in concentration. his smile deepens when your nose doing the cute little scrunch thing when you’re unsure about something but plan on figuring out.

hair styled in one of your complicated yet sophisticated hairdos, his large sweater he allowed you to wear since the morning still adorns your bodice comfortably. knees bended, he sees them bare but an outline to a crimson red skirt falls on your hips.

it’s a shame Ari couldn’t get up and scoop you up in his arms, play and color with you for a bit without the ball and chain of his work holding him hostage at his desk.

“so now you notice i’m here,” your voice lightly snaps but it’s mellowed as your lips pull into a pout, pulling the strings of his heart. a sense of guilt rises in his chest because he knows he hasn’t been caring for you properly these past few days. without the little moments of meals and getting ready for bed he hasn’t been spending time with you that much.

“don’t be like that princess. daddy just has alot of work to finish-” but you still shake your head, confusing Ari as you cross your arms over your chest.

“but I don’t want daddy to work! daddy works forever! I want special time!” you whine, your eyes tearing up as you slam your hands against the table. making the coloring books, pens and markers quake at your mercy.

at this moment Ari’s at your mercy, and if he permits you to continue this stirring frenzy who knows how much he’s going to spend away from his work to calm you from a potential tantrum. so the words that come out of Ari’s mouth make you hault your next actions of crying and screaming-

the simple notion of, “come here princess, bring your coloring book with you. we can work together,” makes your tears stop falling and your body rising to leap towards him. grabbing your things quickly and making your way to your daddy. it’s now that he sees you in your outfit that has his eyes sticking anywhere else but yours.

a smirk curling your glossy, cherry painted lips you turn around for him so he could see your little ‘outfit’ the flow of your skirt tempting to rise up at the bottom curve of your ass but you’re hoping to save the surprise do what’s underneath it later, “do you like my skirt daddy?” you say, your eyes tracing his and he only but stares at anything else but your eyes.

the rich gleam of your thighs and long legs, the way your chest peaks out through the fabric to his sweater, your tempting glossy lips and those damn heels...

his response is his hands patting down on his thigh, enough to practically make your heart jump at the sight. it’s been that long since you’ve sat on his lap but then again you constantly need to be on it.

a moonlight smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you drop your coloring books and markers on his desk. making sure to not mess up his paperwork with yours, Ari moves his papers to make way for your things.

sighing happily when you settle your bum in between both of his thighs to get comfy. sweet scent of strawberries and cream from your shampoo wafting to his nose and the stark fruitiness of your scented markers mixing with the coffee steam from his mug marry together.

the two of you do your separate jobs peacefully, with the exception of you reaching for his honeypot mug to have a lick of coffee that he tsks at you. moving the mug away from your grabby small hands.

“that’s a big people drink sweet pea. i’ll give you a juice box if you’re thirsty,” but you just shake your head and get right back to shading with your colors.

“daddy may I please play my hello kitty game?” your perky voice starts as you start coloring the detailed tiger cub. emphasizing on the may and please, your daddy was a sucker for good manners and etiquette.

shifting against only his right thigh now, your back hunches to reach the desk with difficulty until he shift to get you comfortable. continuing coloring but your eyes leave once in a while to stare at the keyboard Ari’s fingers clack with each key, “not now princess.” Ari hums and you frown sourly.

the online hello kitty theme park game would be an excellent way to have you distracted as he works but at the same time Ari doesn’t think it’ll be healthy for you to invest that much screen time. and besides he’s working on it, leaning your head on his bicep you let go of that unwanted answer and get back to color tinting and detailing.

Ari files in the margins of the paperwork and writes everything out as you do with your coloring sheets. as the minutes turn into hours, his mug once again being filled with coffee and your sippy cup filled with your juice. you finish coloring page after coloring page and Ari stack after stack of paperwork.

leaving you halfway done with your one hundred and seventy-five page Lisa Frank coloring book and your daddy only one stack of field files. the amount he managed to finish has him impressed of himself and grateful to his special good luck charm sitting perfectly right on his thigh.

“daddy look at all the pages I finished!” you cheer as you pull out the coloring book for him to look over, practically bouncing on his thigh from excitement. the dazzling brightness of your wide toothy smile bringing a large smile to Ari’s face as he takes the coloring book to look over at your hard work.

flipping each page, the drawings and outlined sheets were more colorful and detailed than the last and Ari was indeed speechless and at awe. proud of his creative princess and her clever unique technique with scented markers and glitter gel pens.

“princess these are gorgeous! I have a little artist on my hands don’t I?” Ari grins and his words make the wide smile you have crinkle as your eyes dash away from his flustered.

your bashful state makes Ari chuckle but his eyes don’t pull away to continue analyzing and admiring your work. you indeed did an excellent job at coloring and Ari thought you’d struggle a bit with the detailed sheets of Lisa Frank. the refrigerator tonight will be decorated in these latest masterpieces, he’ll make sure of it.

and you know what? you deserve a reward.

Ari thought and he bends to the side to open the second compartment of his desk just above his organized files. pulling the drawer open, his hands roam over the pens, staples and office supplies in search for the treats.

stopping his short search when his fingers grab the bag of heart shaped lollipops he at times rewarded you when you listened to him extra carefully. he grabs one and brings it up to your eyesight, enjoying how your eyes light up and follow the lollipop with each motion.

starlight eyes widen and focus on the cherry lollipop in your daddy’s grasp then stare up at him again, “is that for me daddy?” you words drip in eagerness, wanting to taste the sugary sweet artificial fruit against your tongue.

Ari’s eyes playfully squint against your mischievous ones, his fingers undo the wrapper and disregard it aside on the desk. wonderstroke eyes looking over the bare heart shaped lollipop, you can smell the tangy cherry and your mouth waters.

although you don’t expect daddy to take the lollipop in his mouth. a pout pulling your lips as you rock against his thigh for a taste and you stop once your daddy takes it out with a smart delightful pop!

“open up for daddy princess,” and you don’t need to be told twice as you open your mouth so Ari could place the heart lolli in your mouth. “tongue out sweet girl,” and you stick your tongue flat out, making Ari smile at your good listening skills.

your glossy lips closing around the sweet candy on a stick, you hum at the sweet taste, “thank you daddy,” Ari simply kisses your forehead before patting your head, getting straight into work.

despite the candy he gave you, you’re still upset he still is ignoring you. by all means you could color as many pages in your coloring book for eternity but they never gave you the same satisfaction then the attention daddy gave you.

being deprived of it, you’ve also been deprived of his cock.

locked away in the depths of your shared bedroom you couldn’t just replace his thick fingers with yours. your pink silicon toys with his cock because they didn’t reach the golden spot he easily could reach. and you couldn’t rub your panty clothed pussy against one of your pillows and pretend it was Ari’s body.

no matter how much you wanted to touch yourself at times- hell you wanted to touch yourself when you were in your playroom this early afternoon. Ari obviously wouldn’t notice since his head was deep in paperwork but you knew you couldn’t break one of his golden rules.

right now daddy was right here, you were sitting on his very lap and compared to him you were a little thing in desperately critical need to be taken care of. your slicked cunt wasn’t going to stop over-examining your daddy’s big arms that caged you in. his large hands that held the pen that looked so small in it as he wrote. his wide muscular chest that you rest your back against.

not to mention the soft and tender caresses of his one hand rubbing your thigh through your fringed scarlet red skirt. soft lips pressing gentle kisses on your hairline here and there along with the scratch of his thick beard. the soft spoken praises he whispered in your ear as you colored quietly for him.

daddy himself made you needy, very needy. because as much as you could sit still and color quietly and be his good girl you desperately wanted to grind your cunt against his thigh.

but then again who were you to ask for permission?

the sudden shift your body has against his thigh doesn’t ring any bells or blast any alarms since he just thinks you’re simply shifting to find a comfortable position.

wandering fingers trace the veins bursting from your daddy’s flexed hands and forearms that grip his pen as he writes. as well as the other that’s hooked around your belly to keep you still, finding the perfect rhythm to roll your hips against ari’s thigh.

holding in a whimper you suck on the lollipop hard, picturing the heart shaped lolli has the tip of his cock but then again it just makes you drip pathetically against your daddy’s thigh even thinking of that. the burning pleasure vibrating at your core as your hips continue to rock onto the denim of your daddy’s jeans. the slick of your pussy soaking your panties and the honey seeps through the crotch of the thin lace thing.

as much as you’re doing a good job at keeping your little sounds to yourself and throwing Ari off at your dirty work as you carry on coloring he isn’t oblivious to the wetness that is drenching his thigh nor your ongoing grind you have on it.

no matter how considerable you told him earlier that you were coloring the page you’re working on for him and how adorable you looked grinding your desperate cunt on his thigh.

you didn’t ask for permission

Ari’s sure if he could lift your body away from his thigh they’re would be a wet patch stained on his jeans. he can hear the sloppiness of your wet folds and slick with each rock your hips have. the smell of your arousal filling his nose, the cherry in your breath as you let out a little whimper. feeling the loose string of your orgasm building in the pit of your belly beginning to tighten as you roll and rock your hips to the lace that makes you melt.

“stop it,” Ari’s low rumble commanded, his hands still writing something but his eyes dash from his work to you. eyes closed and face clouded in lust as you persist your grinding. head and conscious tucked away in your dirty little dream world. Ari doesn’t let the fact that you’re sucking on the lollipop like it’s his cock or the little moans that sound like high pitched hums.

he gave you you’re a reward and he can easily take it away

oblivious of your daddy’s true intention you moan when his hand lands on your head, stroking through your hair until he takes a handful of it and pulls your head back. a gasp escaping your lips, your eyes open and the grind you have on his thigh comes to a crashing stop at the painful tug.

“daddy let go!” you loudly whine. your eyes watering at your ruined orgasm and your hair potentially getting ruined by your daddy’s harsh hold.

another cry escapes your lips when ari pulls your head back even more, causing your back to arch as his breath wafts against your earlobe. “daddy told you to stop, princess. is my little princess a dumb baby or is my little princess too busy fucking herself on daddy’s thigh to listen?”

the coarseness of his remark makes you shiver, a whimper and cry leaving your lips as your eyes water as the hold he has on your hair tightens.

“get your filthy cunt off of my thigh and keep coloring that picture for me. can you do that for me or you going to wander and get lost in that whorish brain of yours?”

rapidly nodding your head up and down and lift your hips over his thigh, your need to please and answer his question quickly makes him chuckle into your hair. although you’re still whimpering and pouting over your ruined hair, you spent all morning making it cute and perfect all for it to be ruined with a single tug from his large hands.

hot bothered breath and searing lips grazing against the shell of your ear causes your wetness to seep and drip onto your rubbing thighs. catching you in the act, Ari’s free hand pulls the skirt above your hips, expecting you to wear some kind of tiny lace panties but you aren’t wearing anything.

blue eyes don’t meet any scandalous undergarment, just your plump ass and your dripping cunt desperate for his touch. desperate for a release and his attention, his hands examine the flimsy material for a skirt that deliciously hugs and covers your hips.

feeling your daddy’s stare on your princess parts, it makes your heart jump and thump when his hands grab at your ass. kneading the flesh of it before gripping the waistline of the cherry red skirt.

“daddy-?” another gasp escapes your lips when a loud tare ripples throughout the room and the weight of cold air hitting your slicked, exposed pussy.

Ari grunts as he takes the fabric of your now ripped skirt and throws it onto the floor without a care, all he wants to see is your pussy. a large hand comes down to slap your ass, enjoying the way it bounces back like it’s a response. it has all the blood and lust flowing down south to his hardening cock.

“do daddy a favor princess and shut the fuck up before daddy makes you,” the threat makes you whimper, the lollipop in your mouth swirling sweetly against your tongue as your daddy pinches and gripes handfuls of your ass. slapping the flesh and watching it bounce, he wants to dig his teeth in your peach flesh.

“take my sweater off. I want nothing on what’s mine. do you understand?” Ari groans in your ear as his hands glide around your hips to dip into your cunt, his fingers stroking your folds and not believeing how wet you are. “oh and princess, the heels stay on,”

whimpering and following his order quickly, grabbing his sweater from the helm and lift the heavy wool material of the sweater above your head. body fully bare and under the heat of his burning glance, you drop the thick article of clothing in your hands on the floor. leaving the heels on as he commanded, feeling the lust filled burn of his stare intensify as you rest your hands together on his knee waiting.

waiting impatiently for the matter for his next command. the smell of the baby oil and sweet strawberry lotion he rubbed on your curves earlier that day hits his nose and he moans. you look, smell and- as he takes his fingers in his mouth and moans- taste like candy.

hearing the sudden sound of a heavy metal buckle of his belt loosen, Ari’s hard cock rises up and hits the hard muscle of his belly. an untamed groan escapes oats his lips when you turn your head over your shoulder to see him rubbing the tip of his cock with his thumb.

those starlight eyes that usually gleam in their faux innocence stare back at the fire in his eyes and you pout. wanting to touch daddy’s cock and taste him on your tongue. but your eyes tear up when he takes his thumb and suck the white cum into his mouth, not leaving enough for you to taste.

it makes you whip your head away from his handsome smug face. Ari doesn’t ignore the sniff out of you as he sets sight of your bare body in front of him. resting your elbows and body weight on the desk your arched back leaves loads of space for him to glide his hands through. running delicious shivers throughout your spine before he slaps your ass again. stinging and burning but your cunt creams in pleasure as you bite your bottom lip.

“my slutty princess wasn’t wearing a bra under daddies sweater? no panties under those scraps for a skirt? fucking knew you looked too good. wanted daddy to find out and ruin your tiny pussy, didn’t you? wanted to distract me from work? nasty little girl thinking she can get what she wants.”

not daring to let out another moan, his hand still gripping your hair loosens as his free hand rises up your waist to pinch a nipple. “answer me slut. you get nothing if you don’t,” his hiss rings and normally you would laugh at him in this state. telling off his stupid hunchmen on the phone as you got all hot and bothered as he yelled at them, making them beg for his forgiveness.

now you’re on the end of that anger; and you don’t mind it one but as his large calloused hands grab the fragments of your ripped skirt on the floor before analyzing your bare body arched pretty and posed for him. in nothing but your big girl heels with your cute lacy white socks, his cock is painfully hard now as the tip paints his abdomen in precum.

“yes daddy. I wanted you to fuck me. I wanted you to stop working because you haven’t touched me and I want cummies! I deserve cummies!” you cry but the words are too sloshed and unreadable from the lollipop in your mouth.

it’s quick that Ari takes the stick and pulls it away from your mouth with a swift and perky pop! a loud whine excludes your lips from his sole action but it’s replaced with a gasp as Ari slaps your mouth, “shut your big brat hole up before I stuff it shut myself,” and you moaned at him, fucking moaned at the threat.

it leaves him just as speechless as you, you’re face wafting in the heat of your embarrassment and you cower when his smirk curls deviously done on you. Ari wants you to cry- God he wants to rip your heart out and bandage it up with his cock

“dumb babies like you get what daddy gives you. nothing else, now grind on daddy’s thigh princess,” his rough command makes you freeze, not even daring to breathe for a second.

wondering if he’s being serious, and it’s as if he could read the confusion buzzing in your head he decides to clear it up. the harsh and stinging spank awakes you from your overthinking session and you get to work. working to gain the same pleasurable friction you were enjoying moments ago.

your hands gripe the edge of his desk till your knuckles bulge out around your soft skin. rocking your hips against the roughness of his jeans, this time no panties are in the way as your slickness flows freely. lubricating your folds and soaking his thigh with your juices, it makes him chuckle when he feels your wetness soak through the fabric onto his thigh. you’re so pretty and obedient he could fuck your till you couldn’t think or stand.

“do you think you can finish your coloring page before you cum princess? show me how good you are at coloring.”

Ari’s artificially sweet remark makes you whimper, just as artificial as the cherry heart lollipop you were licking. not hesitating or wasting a minute, you quickly grab your coloring book and markers and get straight to work.

thankful you didn’t have to color much, one good thing leading you to this moment you could feel your orgasm nearing. the high peak that you’re getting closer and closer to, you want to jump off the cliff and dive into the waves of your pleasure. who knows what daddy would do if you didn’t finish your drawing on time, you needed to fucking cum.

you always got what you fucking wanted regardless what daddy thought, but maybe you spoke to soon-

“please princess, daddy knows you can grind harder on that. show me how much of a slut you are for daddy’s thigh,” you whimper at his command and obey immediately.

grinding harder against him, his teeth biting the soft bit of ear as his fingers roll your hard nipples. slightly wincing and deeply moaning, you can’t help but allow him to make you slip in that space of mindless obedience.

daddy always made you a moaning wet mess, always desperate for his approval and sweet honeyed praises. glassy eyes concentrating on your coloring sheet, it was becoming difficult to focus on coloring as you rocked your hips. trying desperately to withhold your orgasm but desperately trying to please daddy and grinding harder. hot tears springing in your eyes at the havoc situation, you let out a sob as your rock against Ari’s thigh.

Ari only but cooed at you, thumbing away your hot salty tears. “what a little crybaby,” he chuckles through a fake sympathetic smile. fisting his hard slippery cock in one hand as the other crept down to rub your little button. if anything Ari wants more now is for you to cry- it’s getting his cock harder and harder as the tears drip onto the coloring sheet.

“daddy I-I can’t color that fast!” that cry as his thick fingers advancing in their speed and pressure. stroking the puffiness of your folds before brushing against your drenched hole.

taking not a single ounce of regard to your wail, he responds only by pinching your pussy lips. causing you to cry out in sudden pain before he strokes your pussy to calm you. thick digits gathering up your arousal, your folds creating a lewd serenade in the golden tint of his office.

“you can’t color that fast? my stupid little princess doesn’t know how to color quick enough? to color a small stupid drawing before she can cum? huh, princess? answer me!”

there doesn’t need to be any tugging at your hair or harsh slap to your ass for you to quiver against him. Ari- your daddy has a magical way of making you submit with just the ease of his words but you don’t know how to answer him at all but to keep coloring. marshmallow tears streaming down your face like shooting stars, you continue to reach your high your daddy assists you on reaching but denies.

however Ari is noticing that you’re practically almost done coloring the picture, by the time you’re finished you’d probably cum and fufill his order. oh he couldn’t let that happen. his spoiled brat wasn’t gonna cum until he felt she deserved so, which wasn’t gonna be anytime soon if he could do anything about it.

quick hands slap down on your ass, causing the marker in your hand to scribble slightly over the lines. a gasp escaping your lips your bottom lip trembling at the sight and rushing figuring out how to fix it. scarlet heels clacking together, his hands stop tracing the lace of your socks at your ankles.

ravishing in your panicked state, he smirks into your hair. grabbing the lollipop he snatched from you earlier from the desk, taking it into his mouth with a satisfying pop! ignoring your offended and hurt whimpers as your daddy steals your reward away from you due to your clumsiness. it makes your vision blurry and your bottom lip tremble violently, head echoing in only one thought and one thought only-

daddy is so mean, daddy’s a big fat meanie.

your thoughts roar but you didn’t mean to say any of them aloud, you’re so caught up in the moment that you have no idea you did so because now your ass is getting spanked again and again and again and again. all until your peach flesh burns and Ari can see the indents of his fingers on that heart shaped ass he loves so much before bringing his hand back in your hair.

tugging it so your spine suddenly arches back so his lips brush your ear, a gasp escaping your mouth. “I can be meaner princess. you stop coloring and I won’t let you cum. do you understand that? stupid whore.”

the growl rolls off his lips and it just adds onto the sheet of sweats glistening off your skin. tears drop from your lashes as shaky, trembling hands grip the markers as you persist on finishing the coloring page. feeling your body is on fire, your sobbing cunt continues to rock against his loins and the pleasure is almost unbearable you whimper.

the smirk plastered on Ari’s face is sinful, his hands unbutton his shirt to leave his chest bare. golden pendant glistening in the light bulbs of his office. back muscles resting against the leather of his office chair, he strokes his throbbing cock. biting his bottom lip enjoying the naked sight of his desperate slut for a precious princess bouncing and rocking on his thigh.

arms bended calmly behind his head, biceps slightly flexing as he licks on the lollipop he took from you. humming from its sweet taste while imagining it’s the nipples of your tits, his tongue flicking over the heart shape- sucking sharply on it. savoring the sweet cherry taste as his hands graze up to gripe your bouncing tits. savoring in your heavy moans, stiff sniffles and stuttering sobs all on the account of him.

like taking candy from a baby, his baby.

Ari thinks as he watched your ass bounce, sweat glistening off your skin as your heeled feet shake. moving back in your high unaware matter, your ass unintentionally brushes roughly against his balls. causing you to gasp and your daddy to grunt, ordering you to do it again which you do.

suddenly the thought of fucking your other tight hole full of his white ropes of cum takes over his mind but he was enjoying you trying to find a release. “maybe if you color the picture really nice for daddy then daddy will let you cum,”

Ari spoke, his voice soft and tender like always despite the current moments of viscously degrading and name calling you. you’ve always craved this part of him but who knew it would hurt your heart so fucking good with each insult and slap to your heart shaped ass.

although the remark creates a hopeful glisten in your relieved eyes, posture relaxing a bit. you were certain you wouldn’t be able finish it on time but maybe if you focus on making it look pretty- regardless of a few white spaces- daddy would let you have your cummies. Ari would kiss you on your pretty lips and make you undone with the sweetest command.

oh how you craved it this moment it’s bringing more tears to your eyes.

“r-really daddy?” you stutter, imagining the tenseness of his thigh as his cock. squeezing it just right around your walls as your eyes glue on the coloring sheet. grinding your pussy harder onto his jean covered thigh that let’s all your high pitched and stuttering moans flow like honey, “you really mean it?”

a dark glint shines in Ari’s blue hues, taking the lollipop out of his mouth his hand rubs his shaft painfully slow. that thumb that has been teasing your button glides past his weeping tip, his burning blue glance shifting to you. until his hand reaches up, causing you to moan when he grabs a handful of your hair.

oh how he was going to tear his poor princess down after building her a sense of hope.

“no,”

#brattycherubwrites #♡ ari levinson ♡#ari levinson × woc!reader #ari levinson × black!reader #ari levinson × reader #ari levinson smut #daddy!ari levinson × woc!reader #daddy!ari levinson × black!reader #daddy!ari levinson × reader #daddy!ari levinson smut #chris evans × woc!reader #chris evans × black!reader #chris evans × reader #chris evans smut #daddy!chris evans × woc!reader #daddy!chris evans × black!reader #daddy!chris evans × reader #daddy!chris evans smut #daddy!ari levinson × little!reader

479 notes · View notes

spxllcxstxr · 3 years

Text

Date Night • The Marauders

(Gif not mine)

Request: Maybe like a poly!marauders x (she/her) reader where they just spend a day together :) like you can write smut If you’d like, but yea maybe they can go out to eat id like to see a dynamic in a poly relationship w them. Thank you!! Love your writing <3 — anon

Summary: Date nights are rare, but tonight, you go out for ice cream with your partners

Warnings: Food and eating!! The entire fic is about eating, so please stay safe! If you have a peanut allergy no you don’t. Also, if you’re lactose intolerant like me, uhhhh pretend there’s a potion for that I guess, kinda implied first Wizarding war, smallest hint of steaminess

Word Count: 1.6k

A.N: Remus=Ross, James=Chandler, Sirius=Joey, right? This took me like weeks to finish...but overall I kinda like it. Let me know what you think, and love you all ❤️

****

The four of you very rarely had free time.

Between missions and meetings, you and your partners almost never had time off, and even when you did, one of you would still be busy. One of you would still be undercover or stuck debriefing the latest mission with Mad-Eye for hours.

So it’s weird to find yourself situated on the couch, Sirius’ head resting on your lap and Remus on the other end, stuck with his feet. James shuffles around in the kitchen behind you, stuck with dish duty after almost setting your flat on fire.

Sirius snuggles deeper into your thigh, evidently still exhausted from the previous day’s mission he was tasked with.

The flat is mostly quiet, the only sounds coming from Remus turning the pages of his novel and the ceramic plates clashing together as they get put away. The sun slowly sets outside, basking your living room in glowing orange in light.

You run your fingers through the mess of dark curls splayed out on your lap, always lustrous and soft to the touch. He hums deeply in approval.

A sharp clap from behind jolts you out of your peaceful thoughts.

You crane your neck to watch as James throws on his denim jacket.

“I believe that we,” He starts, eyeing the three of you. “deserve a date night.”

Instantly, a smile grows across your face. The last time the four of you had a proper date night, it was 1979 and Queen had just released a new song, which meant that Sirius needed to celebrate with all of you at the pub getting absolutely pissed.

Since you all joined the Order, all your free time has been sucked down the drain.

So that’s why the mere suggestion of the normally elusive date night makes you feel all giddy inside. You would’ve gotten up from your comfortable position to throw your coat on if it wasn’t for Sirius practically securing you to the cushions.

“But James...” He groans.

“Oh c’mon, Pads, we haven’t been on a proper date since—“

“Last year.” Remus interjects, shutting his book before placing it onto the coffee table. “But then again, you were too drunk for it to actually be considered a date.”

“Don’t blame me, blame Freddie and his Merlin given voice.” Sirius muses, still laying on your thigh. His fingers dance around your kneecap.

Remus slowly eases himself off the couch, joining James by the front door.

“Fine.” You hear James shrug. “We’ll just leave you here to suffer while Remus, (Y/n), and I go out to Florean’s.”

This seems to grab his attention, because he perks up just enough for you to slide out of his grasp.

You end up at Remus’s side, clinging to his grey jumper as you excitedly pull on your shoes.

“Ice cream?” Sirius asks, pushing his hair behind his ears. “Without me?”

“It doesn’t have to be without you, Sirius.” You retort, sandwiched between James and Remus. “If you get your arse over here, we won’t have to leave you.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Sirius huffs, hands raised in mock surrender, dragging himself over to the front door.

He waves his wand, boots zipping out of the closet and slipping onto his feet, his dark leather jacket covering his white shirt on its own.

“What, are simple tasks too hard for you now?” Remus teases, lightly bumping his shoulder into Sirius’.

“We’ve got magic for a reason, Moons.” The shorter of the two rolls his eyes. “Might as well use it.”

Remus opens his mouth to retort but James swiftly interrupts their bickering.

“I swear to Godric Gryffindor himself, (Y/n) and I will leave both you gits here.”

There’s grumbling from the two of them, but it becomes garbled once James throws an arm around you and Apparates you to Diagon Alley.

Your brain feels like it’s spinning in your skull and your stomach tugs familiarly at your naval. Sure you’ve Apparated many many times before, but it’s simply not fun no matter what.

As per usual, Diagon Alley is loud. Children and drunkards laugh, spells and fireworks whizz passed your ears, people in heels trot across the cobblestone path.

It’s places like Diagon Alley that remind you why you love magic so much.

James’ arm is still heavy on your shoulders as you watch people in cloaks and tall hats rush by you.

There’s a startling crack behind you and you and James turn around to see your other partners. Sirius might have a few new purple bruises littered across his collar bones and Remus might have a smug look plastered across his face, but no one says anything. Remus throws the two of you a silent wink as Sirius hangs off of him.

“Gonna hold my hand, Moony?” James questions, his arm outstretched.

Remus eagerly takes it, fingers interlocking.

So the four of you are connected as you stroll down the street. Your face is buried into James’ denim jacket, the faint smell of grass stains and broom oil an already welcomed scent. In the middle, James and Remus have their shoulders rubbing together as they walk, James’ thumb most likely tracing figure eights between his knuckles like he always does. Lastly, it seems like Sirius had changed his position enough to stick a hand in Remus’ back pocket.

The sun continues to dip lower below the horizon, resulting in candles and lanterns being lit in every dark corner. Children are ushered inside homes and adults start to flock towards the pubs.

With the looming threat of dark and dangerous wizards, people aren’t taking their chances, safety in numbers and safety indoors being popular within the village.

Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor is lit up in a rainbow of colors as always, and the sweet scent of ice cream drifts through the air. People sit in crowds outside the shop, enjoying their treats on the sidewalk or some even spread out on the street.

“So what’re you going for today, Jamie?” You ask as your little group enters the shop.

A little bell sounds from above you, barely heard over the boisterous laughter and rowdy conversations that surround you.

Unlike you, Sirius, and Remus, James doesn’t have a signature flavor. He had to have a different kind every visit. So while Remus had already ordered his strawberries and cream in a waffle cone and Sirius is eyeing his peanut butter ice cream, James is still perusing his options like a little kid.

Your own ice cream starts to melt a bit while you’re waiting.

James squints his eyes at the names, despite his glasses already resting on the bridge of his nose.

“You haven’t done toffee apple in a bit, Prongs.” Sirius points, his finger making contact with the cool glass barrier.

“You’re right.” James hums. “Thanks.” He presses a quick kiss to Sirius’ stubbled cheek before ordering his ice cream.

There’s a small open table across the way, lit up by a few lanterns, which the four of you claim.

There’s a very slight breeze that makes you cuddle up to Remus’ soft jumper.

Desperate to talk about something other than the current state of affairs, James gets caught up talking the Wimbourne Wasps and their new Beater, Ludovic Bagman.

You watch Sirius, tongue poking ever so slightly out of the corner of his mouth, try to sneak a scoop of James’ ice cream while he’s distracted.

Attempting to hide your amusement, you bring a hand up to cover your mouth, feigning interest in the Quidditch talk.

You watch the spoon make an indent and it’s halfway to Sirius’ mouth before—

“Oi!”

The silver spoon freezes abruptly, and grey eyes widen significantly.

“Is that why you suggested toffee apple? So you could nick some of my bloody ice cream?” James gasps dramatically, mouth agape in shock.

“Where’re your manners, James?” Sirius retorts, licking his spoon. “Sharing is caring.”

His hazel eyes narrow. “I don’t know, Black, that looked more like thievery to me.”

“Well let’s take it to our very own Wizengamot, then.” Sirius loudly gestures to you and Remus.

“Well I’m sure that for a wee bit of ice cream, (Y/n) and I, as key witnesses to the whole event, can clear the air.” Remus smirks, biting into his cone.

Sirius swiftly pushes the rest of his ice cream across the table, not even trying to be discrete about his offering. You and Remus start to dig in.

“Bribery!” James shouts, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. “This trial is a load of bullshit!”

“Sorry James, can’t hear you over how good this is.” Remus remarks with his mouth full.

You lick your spoon, watching the theatrics.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” James straightens his glasses and runs a hand through his hair in playful frustration.

“Aw, Jamie...you want some of mine?” You pout, offering some of your own frozen dessert.

“At least someone at this table loves me.” James grumbles, sticking a spoon into your bowl.

Sirius sticks his tongue out.

“Hey, I never said Sirius was cleared of all charges.” Remus raises a scarred brow.

“What?” Sirius snaps. “But I bribed you!”

You snicker at his balled up fists.

“So you admit to the bribery, you might as well admit to the thievery while you’re at it.” He finishes the bowl, licking the last of it from his spoon.

“Oh how the tables have turned.” James smugly points out.

Sirius childishly pouts, opting to pick at his black painted fingernails.

“We should have date nights more often.” James chuckles, clinking your spoons together.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco @mullthingsoverinthehotwater

#the marauders x reader #the marauders #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders fanfiction #James potter fluff #sirius black fluff #remus lupin fluff #james potter imagine #sirius black imagine #remus lupin imagine #tw food #tw food mention

232 notes · View notes

avintagekiss24 · 4 years

Text

listen before i go > bucky barnes

|| pairing: bucky barnes x black!reader

|| word count: 6,630

|| warnings: angst, heavy angst, smut, sex, bucky barnes’ trigger words, cock warming if you look close

|| square filled: @star-spangled-bingo SSB2020 N5: needy clingy sex

|| square filled: @buckybarnesbingo C1: angst

|| summary: you and bucky just can’t say what you want to say.

|| link: ao3

|| note: sad boi hours are still commencing. this one is gonna hurt, dudes. please heed the warnings. i think i said i don’t like posting on sunday’s, and here i am posting two sunday’s in a row. what are ya gonna do? title inspired by billie eilish’s listen before i go. don’t hate me!

line divider by @writeyourmindaway

Tears leak from your eyes. You cover your face with your hands as he shoves his clothes into his old duffel bag. Say you’re sorry. Don’t let him leave!

“Bucky-”

“Don’t,” he says curtly, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder, “You want me out, I’m leaving.”

You don’t want him out. You don’t… or do you? Yes. You do. That’s what you told your friends. That’s what you told yourself. That’s what you told him. He has to go - he has too. This isn’t working... right? Emotion wracks your body again as he storms past you. Your shoulders shake as the sadness consumes you. Your face breaks, your heart sinks, your cries clog your throat, choking you.

You don’t follow him.

Bucky stops at the door of your apartment, his hand on the knob. He turns his head, just a little, listening to you cry. He closes his eyes, cursing himself. He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to leave you. He should give it up - running around the world, fighting aliens and robots and god knows what else. He’d give it up for you, he would. He should.

He walks out the door and slams it behind him.

----------

It’s been a while, maybe three weeks? Four? You’re not really sure. You’ve busied yourself to keep from thinking about him. You signed up for a cooking class, and a dance class, and picked up a few extra shifts at the bookstore you volunteer at sometimes - just to stay busy. It’s worked for the most part. Between work, your friends, and your new hobbies, you barely have time to think about Bucky Barnes.

That’s a lie. You know exactly how long it’s been. Four weeks. You think about him - not often, this part is true - but you still think about him. Mainly at night, when you’re alone in your big room and your big bed. It’s weird to you now, your bed. Foreign. You never realized how big it was until he wasn’t in it; the whole room really, it’s just so big.

The two of you never made it official, moving in together, but he was there more often than he wasn’t. His broad, heavy body weighing down the mattress, or barely fitting in the shower, but you loved having him here. You always felt safe; consumed by all things him when he was here. Now it’s just empty - quiet. Just you and your little house plant, that he picked out, of course. You just didn’t have the heart to throw it away.

Just like you don’t have the heart to throw him away - his memories.

Not yet.

Not entirely.

That’s why most nights you stare at your phone, your thumb hovering over his name. You’ve tapped it a few times, his name, but always panic as soon as it starts ringing. You tap on the little red phone and throw it into the chair in the corner of the room. You roll over, away from it, just in case it illuminates from an incoming call or text and stare out at the moon, until the emotion just can’t be held back any longer.

You’re lying again. You cry yourself to sleep most nights.

So, this is why you make yourself busy.

----------

It’s been awhile. Four weeks, two days. The girl behind the bar looks like you, kind of. Well, enough to remind Bucky of that soft, warm smile of yours. He remembers it like it was yesterday. It was usually in the morning when you’d give him that smile. You’d have your face buried in the pillows and sheets, little slivers of skin poking out from underneath here and there. He loved to watch you sleep.

He’d do anything to be able to wake up next to you again.

Anyway, it was usually early, early in the morning when you’d smile at him the way that bartender is smiling at him now. You’d be half asleep, not really coherent enough to even know who you were smiling at, but you’d shift next to him - curl right into his body, and just smile. Softly. Sweetly. Then you’d take a breath, a deep one, tighten your grip around his waist and fall right back asleep.

He’d fall right back asleep with you.

“You doin’ okay?” The bartender asks, smiling at him again.

Bucky drops his eyes to the glass in his hands as he spins it slowly. She doesn’t look like you up close. He picks up his drink and finishes off the last drops before he slides it in her direction, “One more.”

She winks at him, “You got it.”

She’s flirting with you, Bucky. He used to not care when women were flirting with him. If he’s telling the absolute truth, he still doesn’t - he should. It’s been four weeks and two days after all.

She’s not you.

She kinda looks like you, smiles like you, but she’s not you.

He doesn’t want a similar version of you.

He wants you.

She slides the now full glass of whiskey towards him, Bucky catching it with just the tips of his fingers. He can feel her eyes on him as he lifts it to his lips and takes a slow sip before he nods slowly, staring at the glass. He slides his eyes towards the flirtatious bartender and smirks, “I’m Bucky.”

“Tamera.”

----------

It’s Friday night, so that means it’s sushi class night. Steve decided to come with you this time, he’s been trying to get Sam to try it for the longest time - figured, maybe Sam would feel a little more comfortable with it if Steve made it. You and Steve have always gotten along really well, which surprised you because, you know, he’s Steve Rogers; rigid and uptight. He’s not that uptight, Sam’s still working on the rigid thing, though.

The two of you have been having fun. It’s nice seeing Steve be not-so-good at something for a change. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, but your hands are sticky and covered in rice, so you bounce off to the sink to wash them quickly. You pull out your iPhone, expecting to see a text from your sister, MJ, but find a notification from Apple News.

Avengers bad boy, Bucky Barnes,…

Your lips part as you read his name. You glance over your shoulder, you’re not really sure why, as if everyone’s eyes are going to be on you because you're reading up on your ex-boyfriend. You take a breath. You shouldn’t care what Avengers bad boy, Bucky Barnes is doing, but you want to know what Avengers bad boy Bucky Barnes is doing. God, you hope he’s not hurt.

Don’t look. It isn’t your business anymore. You turn on your heel, shoving the phone back into your pocket, but can’t seem to take a step away from the sink. You just - fuck, maybe he’s hurt. He’s probably done something stupid again, he just got that new arm not three months ago. Shuri is gonna kill him.

It’s still not your business, even if the fucker is hurt. You still can’t move. You place your hand on your back pocket, feeling your phone, debating with yourself. You shouldn’t fucking care - but you do. So you pull it out and tap on the notification, taking you to the original TMZ article. Your blood runs cold.

Avengers bad boy, Bucky Barnes, seen leaving an uptown bar with mystery woman

Your mouth goes dry as you read down the page. Your breath hitches in your throat when you get to the pictures. His fingers curled in hers as they move down the street. Smiles on their faces. Then his arm is over her shoulders. Then -

You blink back the sudden flood of tears furiously as your chin starts to tremble. He’s kissing her. He’s got her up against his apartment building, his hands cupping her face. Her eyes are closed and his head is tilted - his body is crushed up against hers - just like the two of you used to do. He used to pull you close, so tight into his body as the two of you would wind your way through the city. Then, right when you turned the corner onto his street, he’d whirl you around him, and push you up against the building. He’d push his hands up your shirt, pinching, grabbing, his lips crushed to yours.

Now he’s found someone else. He’s kissing someone else the exact same way he used to kiss you. You can’t help but read on, seeing the pictures of them leaving together in the morning - hand in hand again. It’s over. All the nights you’ve spent staring down at his name on your phone, trying to call him, wanting to call him… you should have called him. Maybe he wouldn’t be with her.

It’s over.

You and Bucky are really over.

“Hey,” you don’t even really hear Steve when he walks up to you, “Hey, you okay?”

He follows your eyes to the small screen in your hands and tips it towards him, clearing his throat as he skims the last few lines of the article, “Lets not - come on, let’s take a break, huh?”

He ushers you outside and immediately draws you into his chest, rubbing your back, resting his chin on the top of your head, “Oh, honey.” He sighs softly as you sob.

It’s really over.

----------

It’s Friday night. No, actually it’s Saturday morning; 2:32am. Bucky sits on the edge of his bed, his head hanging as he rubs his forehead with his hand. He picks his head up just high enough to glance over his shoulder at the sleeping woman behind him. Tamera. It’s the second night in a row that he’s had her and she’s still not you.

She doesn’t feel like you - her body, her mouth. She doesn’t sound like you, she doesn’t move like you… she’s not you. No matter how hard he tries to pretend that she is you; she’s not you. He blinks and hangs his head again as his thumb hovers over your name in his phone. He needs to hear your voice, especially now. He wasn’t… ready for this. He wasn’t ready the first time, but he forced himself and hated it. He forced himself again tonight and not only did he hate it, he hates himself.

He should have called you weeks ago.

He should have texted you and apologized and asked if he could come back because that’s all that he really wants; to just walk through your front door, back into your apartment and your shared life as the proud parents of a small plant. He should have called you weeks ago. If he had, he wouldn’t be here right now, with Tamera in his bed, pain in his heart, that nagging voice in his head.

Call her now. Tell her you’re sorry.

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t feel bad right now. He did what every other person does, he moved on. He shouldn’t care about what you think anymore - but he does. He knows how you feel about these kinda things. You weren’t this kinda girl, the one who just goes home with some guy named Bucky after eye fucking him for half the night. Not that you’re a prude, not that you shame anyone, it just isn’t you - these random hook ups.

He liked that about you. That you were kind of old school. Reminded him of the good old days, back in the thirties. Innocent dates, sneaking little kisses so nobody would see, those little giggles that filled his ears when he pushed a little further every time he saw you. He’s always enjoyed a little chase. He enjoyed chasing you, and when he finally caught you, he still found himself fantasizing about you. Every damn day.

Even now. Even with someone else underneath him, he still thought about you - he had to, or else he couldn’t have…

He bites the inside of his lip before he lets out a deep sigh. Your name stares up at him from the soft lighting of his phone. He needs to hear your voice. He doesn’t want to be in this apartment, in this bed, with this woman. He just wants to be wrapped up in your arms, curled around your little, warm body, his fingers pressed into your flesh, your warm breath splashing over his face.

He swallows. His thumb starts to tremble as he holds it over your name.

Call her now. Tell her you’re sorry.

He closes his eyes, “Fuck.”

He cuts his eyes towards the nightstand, staring at it until it doesn’t even look like a nightstand anymore.

He throws his phone into the chair in the corner of the room.

He stands and moves into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him before he flips on the water of the shower, turning it as hot as he can.

He’s gotta get that woman’s smell off of him.

----------

It’s been four months since that Friday night sushi class. You’re now a sushi rolling expert - which, you are pretty proud of. You got a promotion at work. You have a kitten. You and MJ have a Hawaiian vacation coming up over Christmas. Things are… brighter, to say the least.

There’s still moments. You’ll be at work, or waiting in line at the coffee shop and a brief thought will streak across your mind. I wonder what Bucky’s doing? You don’t think about it for long - not anymore. You’re finally starting to get to the point where you really don’t care. You made the right decision that night, asking him to leave. That life - his life - wasn’t one that you wanted to lead. You didn’t want to have to hide away in some upstate safe house every time some villain got wind of your romance.

You didn’t want to stay up all night long, worrying about him as he kicked and punched his way through aliens or robots or whatever the hell decided to come to earth that day. You don’t want to waste days waiting for him to drag his tired, beaten body out of bed after returning from a mission. That life wasn’t - and isn’t - for you. You made the right decision.

“Here you go, doll,” the barista says, smiling as he hands you a vanilla Frap.

Doll. You haven’t heard that in four months. You smile widely, “Thank you.”

You head back out onto the street, sipping on your coffee as you turn up the music to your airpods. The Cottage on the Beach, from the Atonement soundtrack. One of your favorite movies. It’s tragic, but beautiful - the movie, the soundtrack, and your life. You’re getting to the beautiful part, you’re sure of it.

You’re heading back to your apartment after getting lucky at work and having two of your afternoon meetings canceled. Instead of taking the train, you decided to walk - another way of keeping yourself busy. You turn down fifth avenue, also deciding to window shop on the way home, and slow your pace as you move past Saks, eyeing a gorgeous pair of pumps in the window. They would look great on your feet while dancing in Hawaii, that’s for sure.

You stop, pulling out your phone to take a picture to send to your sister, when a voice sounds behind you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey.”

You snap your eyes from your phone to the window in front of you, almost too afraid to turn. You take a breath, shifting your eyes around the glass window as if you aren’t exactly sure if you heard it or not, you are listening to music after all. Maybe you -

“Hey, can you hear me?”

You turn quickly - and there he is. Blue eyes, fluffy, short hair, stubble covering his cheeks and chin. The leather jacket that you loved so much on his broad torso. He’s slimmed down a bit, but he always did fluctuate, unlike Steve, which you always thought was kinda weird.

He smiles at you, a wide smile, the one that makes his eyes crinkle on the sides, “Hey, I thought it was you. How are you?”

You nod quickly, “I’m um, I’m fine. Hi,” you laugh a little.

“You look… great,” he says, looking you up and down, “Really great.”

“Thank you,” you answer softly, tilting your head down as you tuck some of your hair behind your ear, “You.. you look nice too.”

He shrugs, tearing his eyes from yours to glance off across the street, “Ah, you know. I’ve lost a couple pounds.”

You nod again, “Yeah, I can tell.”

He snaps his eyes back to yours. You stare at each other for a couple of seconds, both of your minds racing, wanting to say so much.

I miss you.

I love you.

Please let me come home.

Please come back.

----------

Bucky blinks at you as you duck your head away from him again. Steve’s words play back in his mind from all those months ago. You didn’t see her that night, Bucky! She was crushed seeing those pictures. Crushed. He couldn’t get the word out of his head for weeks afterward. Crushed. You were crushed seeing those pictures.

He never wanted to hurt you. He should have known better. He shouldn’t have left the hotel with her. Fuck, he shouldn’t have went to the hotel bar in first place. He should have called you, like he wanted to. Maybe, the two of you could have avoided all of this.

Now that he has you here, he doesn’t want you to leave. It’s awkward between you. He watches as you shift nervously, not able to keep your eyes on him for long. Constantly pushing at your hair and then tugging at your blouse. It makes him sad. He doesn’t want you to be nervous around him - unsure of him. He still doesn’t want you to leave, though. He’ll deal with the awkwardness.

“Do you wanna get a drink?” His mouth moves before his brain can keep up with it.

He watches as you shift again nervously, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, “No, I -”

“Please?” He’s nearly begging, “Just,” the words drop away as he runs his hand through his hair, “So, we can talk?”

“There’s not really anything to talk about, Bucky.”

----------

You end up in the bar of the Marriott Hotel with him. He could always talk you into doing shit you didn’t want to do - because after a while, he always made you feel safe. He wouldn’t let anything hurt you, so you just did what he asked you to do. He orders a bourbon, you get white wine. You both sit at the bar, facing straight, not looking at each other, your wine glass placed at your lips, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. He takes a drink and sits the glass down softly, bowing his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says simply, after a while.

You finally turn towards him, “For what?”

“For,” he shrugs, “I shouldn’t have - I don’t know. I’m just sorry, for everything.” I’m sorry for leaving you.

You look back down at your wine glass and your fingers, “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I should have asked you to stay.

“I could have been more discreet. Those fucking paps are everywhere, I gotta remember that.” Please forgive me.

You shrug a little, you should have known Steve would tell him, “It’s,” you dip your head, “It’s okay. We’re adults, we can… do whatever we want.” I forgive you.

It grows silent between the two of you. You’re both looking at each other now, eyes bouncing back and forth. His eyes then slip down to your lips and fixate on them for a few seconds before they move back up to your wide eyes. Then, suddenly, his large hand is on your cheek, his thumb rubbing along your bottom lip.

His hand is so warm.

You blink as his hand caresses your face - gently. Just like he used to. He tilts his head a little as his lips part, his thumb still dancing over your bottom lip. His eyes still bounce, softly, between yours, reading you, just like he always could. His eyes dip again to your mouth, and his lips, they, they quiver - just slightly. His fingers wrap around the back of your neck and he’s pulling, pulling you into him.

You moan into his mouth almost as soon as his lips are on yours. It’s so familiar, his lips, his mouth, his tongue. For the first time in months, you finally feel like yourself. You lean into him, kissing him back, humming and moaning. It gets desperate - quickly. To the point where he’s standing, both of his hands cupping your face as he kisses you hard. Your hands slide around his waist to pull him closer as you inhale him.

He pulls you up on your feet and pecks your lips once, twice, three times. He grabs your hand and pulls your towards the front desk, lacing his fingers with yours as he asks for a room. Your heart pounds in your chest and ears as you rest your head against his back, shielding yourself from the clerk’s prying eyes.

Bucky digs in his pocket, grabbing his wallet and throwing his card down before scribbling his name on the receipt. The clerk slides the key cards in Bucky’s direction with a smile and drops his attention back to the small computer in front of him. He’s seen this too many times to care.

You keep your fingers twisted with Bucky’s as you wait for the elevator. Neither one of you look at each other as you stare at the illuminated numbers as they descend. The doors open as the soft ding sounds and you both step on, Bucky slamming his finger on the round number ten. Neither one of you say anything as the metal box carries you up into the hotel, slowing and then stopping at your floor.

You let Bucky guide you down the hall, stopping at room 1022. He presses the card against the reader and the door clicks, popping open slightly. Bucky pushes through, pulling you with him, only letting your hand go to close and lock the door behind you. You walk into the room, your eyes scanning. Your eyes land on the bed. It’s a big bed. It looks soft.

You inhale sharply when you feel Bucky’s chest crush against your back. His fingers slither around your waist as his lips press against the back of your neck. You close your eyes and push your hand up and into his hair as you let your body melt into his. You tilt your head towards the ceiling as he starts to sway the two of you back and forth slowly, his tongue sneaking out from behind his lips to lap at your warm, sensitive skin. His metal hand moves up into your shirt, inching along your skin until it cups your breasts firmly, making you moan, really moan for the first time.

You love that arm.

His digits push into your bra, rolling your nipple softly as his teeth sink into the crook of your neck. You jump, grunting deeply as your body tightens. God, it’s been so long.

His free hand snakes down to your jeans, popping the button and pushing down your zipper. It slithers in, his flesh sliding into your panties and between your slick folds. You jolt forward at the sensual touch, bent at your hips as his fingers start to massage your sex. Your mouth hangs open as you draw in ragged breaths, your hips pushing forward, anticipating his next stroke. He bends forward with you, groaning into your ear as he rubs your clit - quick - just how he knows to do.

He pushes his fingers inside of you and you push back up straight, reaching back to pull on his hair. He pumps them hard as he pinches your taut nipple, his breath hot and heavy against the side of your face. He pushes his hips into your behind, wanting you to feel him, feel how much he wants you - how much he’s missed you.

He tugs on your earlobe with his teeth and you whimper. The pain mixing with the pleasure his fingers bring. You don’t want his fingers any longer. You want him, all of him. You want to scream his name as he fucks you into the mattress, hour after hour. You want to drag your nails down his long, sinewy back. You want to feel his cock stretching you, spreading you, spearing you.

Bucky apparently wants the same. He could always read your mind, it seemed. He pulls his hands away from you to strip you down, tossing your clothing to the floor without a care. He pushes you onto the bed once you’re exposed and bare, flipping you onto your back by your ankle. He pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your calf and pushes his knees into the mattress as he starts to disrobe himself.

You sit up, wrapping your legs around his and bite down in your bottom lip as you send your eyes up to his. You place your hands on his hips, raking your fingers down his back as soon as his polka dotted shirt falls to the floor. You drop your eyes to his hands as his fingers start to fumble with the thick belt holding up his black jeans. You moan a little as you watch him, his skilled fingers moving slowly - - dropping the belt to the floor with a thud before popping the button and pushing down the zipper.

You hiss when his jeans fall. Dark hair peeks out over the band of his Hugo Boss boxer briefs and you can’t resist any longer. You lean in and press your plump lips to his warm skin, placing soft kisses along his sculpted stomach, breathing in his scent. He lets out a deep breath as his metal fingers skim over your shoulder and cup your chin softly. He pushes his index finger into your chin, pushing your head up so the two of you can link eyes once more. Your lips part as you stare up into his stormy eyes - blinking only when his thumb sweeps over your bottom lip.

He kisses you quickly, holding your chin all the while. He pulls away, but not far, his lips still brushing the tip of your nose as his eyes move around your face. He always did like to look at you. He cups the back of your head and lays you onto the mattress, spreading your legs with his knees. You hold onto his shoulders as you fold your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together as you feel him start to press at your opening.

When he pushes, and you start to spread for him, you slam your eyes closed and dig your nails into his thick flesh. You whimper as he sinks into you slowly, his weight pushing you into the mattress. Once you’ve swallowed him - his hips are flush to yours - you wiggle your hips and push your heels into the small of his back, wanting him deeper, even though it isn’t possible.

Agonizingly slow, he pulls out of you - his mouth dropping open as he watches. You wrap your hands around his forearms as he withdraws, and then plunges back in with a little force. You push upward with the thrust, releasing an airy grunt as he fills you back up. He kisses you again, hard, desperate, as he starts to fuck into you, his hips pushing and pulling with a rhythm all their own.

You’ve always loved the way Bucky fucks you. It was instant, from the first time that the two of you were together, he just knew you; knew what you wanted, what you liked. It’s kind of dirty, the way he fucks you. Even when he’s being sweet, and gentle, it’s still a little obscene - crude. The darkness in him comes out when he fucks you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’s ruined you for other men.

Your hips dig into the mattress with each of his deep thrusts. You’re loud, grunting and mewling within minutes - he feels so good. He always feels so fucking good. You keep your eyes on him as he watches you, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your mouth, then down to your bouncing tits. He’s always loved them too. He cups your left breast with his metal hand, squeezing gently as he runs his tongue over his teeth. He leans down and sucks your tit into his mouth, swirling his tongue over your hard nipple.

He bites down and your hips jerk into his as you gasp, pushing him deeper. You yelp as the pain and the pleasure rip through you, making your toes curl and your fingers jab into him even harder.

“God,” you rasp, your face twisting with lust as he drills into you.

You shut your eyes again and you get a flash of her. His arm thrown over her shoulder, pulling her into his body. The smiles on their faces. His body crushed up against hers in front of his apartment building. You fling your eyes open, gasping a little as your mind starts to race. Don’t do this. Not now. Please. Just -

He probably fucked her just like this. Just how he’s fucking you right now. Your scent is gone from his sheets, his pillows, replaced by hers. You focus in on the ceiling as the intrusive thoughts pull you out of the moment.

Your lips part.

Your chin trembles.

----------

Bucky’s missed you. Your body, your noises, these perfect, pretty tits. He’s dreamt about this since the night he left your apartment - having you again. Making you scream. He pulls your breast into his mouth, sucking on you just how you like. He bites down and you buck into his cock, driving him deeper into your pussy and he shudders. You feel so goddamn good around him.

“God,” you rasp, your full voice hitting his eardrum just right, drawing a groan out of him.

He releases your nipple with a smack, leaning back up and resting his weight onto his palms that press into the mattress on either side of you. He feels your tight grip loosen, just a tad, your shrieks get quiet and then disappear all together. He sends his eyes back up to yours and his hips halt instantly.

You’re crying. Your small hands cover your face as your body is wracked with emotion. All of the air is sucked right out of the room. What’s worse, is that he doesn’t even have to ask why. He just knows. Bucky exhales as his own face twists at the sight. He pries at your hands, trying to pull them away from your face, “Baby,” he whispers, “Don’t. Don’t cry. Please, baby.”

He watches as you turn away from him, pressing your face into the pillow, still trying to hide, “Baby,” he tries again, his voice shaking, “Look at me.”

He pushes your head to face him, his own emotion choking up in his throat. He shakes his head, his breath getting shaky, his eyes filling with tears, “I’m sorry.” He whispers as his own tears start to fall, “I’m so sorry.”

He drops his forehead to yours and kisses you hard, “Baby, I’m sorry.” He sobs, “I’m sorry, don’t cry. Please don’t cry, baby.”

I never meant to hurt you. Just say it. I never meant to hurt you, I love you.

Say it, Bucky.

Just say it.

“Stay with me, baby,” he whispers, wiping away the tears that streak down your cheeks, “Stay with me, stay here. Please.”

I love you.

Say it!

----------

Bucky kisses you hard, “Baby, I’m sorry.” He sobs, “I’m sorry, don’t cry. Please don’t cry, baby.”

You can’t help it. It’s just different now. He’s not - yours anymore. You have to share him with her. Your face is wet with your tears and his, your body crushed to his body as he holds you tight - so tight. He begs you not to cry, not to think about it, to stay with him, here, in this moment. You want to. You just want to feel good again. You want to feel like yourself because God knows this has been the most alien four months of your life.

You grab his face in your hands and kiss him, moaning into him as the sobs still wrack your body. You just want to feel good. You want to stay. I want to stay. You rock your hips into his, trying to coax him to move again. He does. He pushes his hips into yours as he kisses you again, his lips plump and salty and soft from the tears. You wrap your arms around his neck and close your eyes as he nuzzles into the side of your face, still murmuring his apologies.

His hips push harder and faster, like he wants to fuck the sad right out of you - and right out of himself. He keeps his face buried in your neck, his hands underneath you as he cries and you cry, your dull orgasm starting to gain steam. You push your fingers into his back as his muscles tense and flex. You cup his ass, squeezing his flesh as it bounces with his hips.

You feel his teeth on your skin, nipping and nibbling before he rests his forehead to yours again. His mouth hangs open, his hot breath washes over your face as his lips tremble softly. You slam your eyes closed and just give in - into him, into the emotions, into the sadness, into the moment.

You squeeze your legs around him and let it consume you. You come, hard, your body shaking, your toes curling, your breath hitching as it courses through your veins. You cry out, your wails filling the room as Bucky continues to slam into you until he too succumbs to the pressure. You feel his cock throbbing inside of you, jumping with each spurt of cum. He fills you up, up to the brim, stuffing you full of his seed.

He collapses on top of you, his sweaty skin sticking to yours. You run your fingers along his spine as his breathing calms and his body starts to relax. He stays tucked inside of you, his cock warm and still stiff. This was always your favorite part. Sure, the fuck was good, but this is what you crave. The closeness. The stillness of him. His skin pressed against yours, his weight holding you to the bed. The feeling of his heart beating against you.

I love you.

Say it.

----------

You didn’t say it.

You should have, but you didn’t.

You did say that you would meet him for dinner, so that the two of you could talk, really talk this time. You’re nervous, but you’re here. Despite not understanding why you wanted to come, MJ helped you get dressed, soothed your nerves. She told you to call her if you need her - I owe that metal armed asshole a punch in the mouth.

You tap your fingers against the table, biting the inside of your cheek, glancing around the restaurant as you wait. Your foot dances underneath the table with nerves. Why are you so nervous? You know him, you love him. You just need to say it. Just fucking say it and this will all be over. There’s no need to keep living like this when you don’t have to. You want him, you need him. You just need to tell him.

You nibble on a piece of bread. You check your phone again. He was supposed to be here. Twenty minutes ago, Bucky was supposed to be here. You wring your hands together harshly, pushing your thumb into your left palm over and over again. Your eyes dart around the restaurant and focus on the door.

He’ll be here. He’s just… running late, is all. He’ll - he’ll be here.

You check your phone again. No call. No text. He was supposed to be here, forty minutes ago. You close your eyes and rub your forehead, trying to push back the emotion that threatens to spill out. It didn’t mean anything. You whimper as the thoughts start to race around your head. Last week meant nothing to him - he used you. No. No, that’s - that’s not the Bucky you know. He wouldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t, he’s just - Fury kept him late today, is all. He’s coming.

He is.

You push out into the night an hour and twenty seven minutes later, tears rolling down your face as you bring your phone to your ear, “MJ,” you sob, “He doesn’t love me anymore.”

“What?” You barely hear her, “What did he do? Where are you?”

“He doesn’t love me anymore.” You openly cry, “He never showed up. He doesn’t love me anymore, MJ.”

----------

“Bucky!” Steve shouts angrily, pushing through the front door of his friends apartment, your cries and MJ’s seething voice still ringing in his ears, “Goddamn it, what in the fuck do you think you’re -”

He stops in his tracks. His eyes skirt around the empty apartment as he stands perfectly still. Steve snaps his eyes towards the floor when a soft light illuminates from it. He moves towards it, bending to pick up Bucky’s phone. Five missed calls, two voicemails, one text message, all from you.

I fucking hate you. Don’t ever come near me again.

Steve’s eyes scan your message as his lips part. He glances towards the bathroom. The light is still on. He squints as he picks up on the sound of the water from the sink still running. His eyes fall on Bucky’s wallet that still sits on the nightstand before he eyes the phone in his hands again.

He turns on his heel and rushes out of the apartment, taking the stairs two by two, “Sam,” he says as soon as the sleepy man answers the phone, “Something isn’t right.”

----------

Bucky slams his head back in the cold, metal chair that he’s strapped down to. He pushes his arms against the clamps that hold him in place, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t break free.

“Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.”

“Please don’t.” Bucky begs, tilting his head towards the ceiling, “Please don’t do this.”

“Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.”

Bucky screams as he starts to struggle, twisting and turning, bucking and fighting against the clamps around his wrists and stomach. He’s not strong enough. He can’t break them, “Please!” he screams, “Please don’t! Please!”

“Benign. Homecoming. One.”

He starts to sob. He slams his eyes closed as he tries to remember your face. Your smile. Your smell. Your soft skin against his. He should have told you he loved you. He should have begged you to let him come home. He should have never left you.

“I love you.” He says aloud, “I love you baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He cries, the tears streaking down his cheeks, “Please don’t hate me.”

I love you!

“Freight car.”

Bucky blinks.

Tears still roll down his cheeks, but he isn’t actively crying anymore. He hears a pair of boots walking slowly around him, the soft thwump of a book closing as the mysterious man approaches his side.

“Soldat?”

“Я готов отвечить.”

Ready to comply.

#SSB2020 #buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb2020 #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #you x bucky #bucky x reader #reader x bucky #bucky x black!reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fandom #black reader #bucky barnes x black reader #bucky #avintagekiss24

1K notes · View notes

collecting-stories · 3 years

Text

Invisible - Luke Patterson

Summary: You and Luke finally admit your feelings to each other.

A/N: My first time writing JATP...

Julie and the Phantoms Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The piano was more of a prop at this point than anything, practically holding you up as you leaned against it, tapping at the same key over and over, the pout playing on your lips unmistakable. Mrs. Harrison had given out instructions at the beginning of the month that she wanted an original composition by each student in the class. It was a simple enough assignment and honestly, you’d been finished for weeks now but there was no way you get up in front of the class and perform the song you had written.

When Flynn had badgered you last week you had sworn that you didn’t have a crush on Luke. He was just Julie’s bandmate and, of course, a ghost. “You always want what you can’t have, I was worried that included him.”

Luke, you were beyond positive, did not feel the same way about you. He was focused on the band and, possibly, figuring out what they needed to eventually crossover. Besides, you were pretty sure that he liked Julie. Their chemistry together on stage was undeniable and maybe it was just for show, but you doubted there was a chance with him at all. So, you lied and told Flynn that you didn’t like him but then every song you wrote lately was about him and you knew you could sing any of them in front of the class.

“Hey!”

“Crap!” You jumped, almost falling off the piano bench. You looked over to your bed where Luke was laying, sprawled across the comforter, smiling innocently at you. “You have got to stop doing that!”

Whatever had happened when the club stamps disappeared from their wrists, you couldn’t be entirely sure. All you knew was that you could actually hug them now, high five, fist bump, hold hands with. Alex had even attempted to give you a piggyback that had ended in a mess of limbs on the ground. But they were still ghosts. Cute, talented, way more attractive in a cut off shirt than he should be, ghosts.

“Sorry,” He sat up, swinging his legs around to hang off the side of the bed, “thought you were coming over to Julie’s?”

You cringed. You had promised to go to Julie’s to play them the song before Friday but you had chickened out. Maybe it wouldn’t be obvious to Luke or the guys but there was no tricking Julie or Flynn, they would know immediately that any song you sang was about Luke. You had essentially laid all your feelings out there for him and there was no way you could perform something so personal in front of him.

“I was...I’m just still...ironing out some kinks.” You shrugged, running your fingers over the keys experimentally.

You had spent plenty of late nights with Luke, in your room writing music, cataloging snippets of lyrics that you pretended weren’t about him but the truth was that he was all you could think about. The change they’d gone through after the Orpheum had only made it harder to deny how you felt.

“I thought you were finished your song,” Luke said, coming around the piano. He reached for the sheet music on the stand but you grabbed it first, shoving it back into your bag.

The look of hurt that flickered was quickly replaced by curiosity as Luke took a seat beside you on the bench. “It just needs some work.”

“What have ya got so far?” He asked, not letting up. Luke was nothing if not persistent, especially when he thought someone was holding out on telling him something and you definitely were. He leaned close to you, trying to goad you into showing him the sheet music.

“Nothing worth showing off, which is why I didn’t go to Julie’s,” you admitted, “I’m supposed to have a song by tomorrow and so far...I’ve got nothing.” Not entirely true but you couldn’t tell him the real reason you were avoiding Julie’s house.

Before Luke could answer you, your mom called up the stairs for dinner. It was a welcomed distraction, an excuse to leave the room and hopefully the conversation behind. Maybe you could write a song about your mom’s lasagna or going to the mall with friends once you were done dinner. Something superficial and dumb. You left Luke in your room and headed downstairs to eat.

That, of course, was your first mistake. Trusting Luke not to snoop was always a risk, he was a naturally inquisitive person, to put it nicely. The moment you left your room he was pulling your sheet music and your notebook out to see if the song you had written was as bad as you claimed it was. He skimmed the first two lines, smiling when he recognized the hook that he’d helped you with three nights ago when you couldn’t sleep and he was annoyed with Alex and Reggie.

He hummed along to the chords as he read the lyrics, not even realizing, as he went, that he was frowning. This song that you said wasn’t very good was fantastic but that’s not why he was upset. Whoever you had written about, it was obvious that you liked them, a lot. Thinking that he’d helped you write a love song for someone else stung more than he thought it would. He knew what Alex would say, that if anyone shouldn’t get together it was a ghost and a lifer but he couldn’t help the crush he had on you.

“Hey!” It was your turn to spook him, Luke’s head snapping up to look at you, eyes wide for a second before he grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, just thought maybe a second set of eyes might help.”

“Luke,” you sighed, incapable of actually being upset with him, “I told you it wasn’t done.”

“It definitely is. It’s great, honestly.” He replied. He might not love that you were writing some guy a love song but he wasn’t gonna lie about your talent.

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You replied, standing on the other side of the piano, taking the first few pages to look them over.

“So, who’s the guy?” He asked. Luke’s inquisitiveness got the best of him every time...he couldn’t help wondering who had stolen your attention so much that you wrote about them.

“What?” You asked, looking up at him as if you were surprised by the question. You weren’t, you didn’t want him seeing the song because you knew that he would ask about the subject and you couldn’t lie to Luke. You wished you could, it would make things a whole lot easier if you could pretend like the song was about some guy from school but you hadn’t really ever liked anyone the way you liked Luke.

“The song...come on, who did you write it about?” He asked.

“No one,” you replied too quickly, “just, you know...a song. About, just like...made up stuff.”

“Made up stuff? I know you...I know that’s real emotion on the page and not some ‘made up stuff’. So...who?” He pushed.

“Like I said, no one.”

Luke nodded slowly, appraising the few pages that he still had in his hands, “okay, okay...I don’t believe you.”

“Well, you don’t have to but it’s true.”

“This is way too-”

“Luke!” You stressed, “just drop it.”

“Why?”

You groaned, sitting down on your bed and flopping onto you back, now he was going to antagonize you about why you didn’t want him to know who the person you liked was. And if he knew that, if he knew anything, you were positive that he would put two and two together and figure out that it was him. Luke called your name and you groaned again.

“Look I wrote the song about a guy that I really, really like who totally doesn’t even like me and like, I might as well be a ghost like you guys because I’m totally invisible to him and it’s so frustrating because...ugh.” You covered your face with your hands, mumbling through them, “I want him to like me but it’s never gonna happen.”

“Maybe just, tell this guy you like him...show him this song or something?” Luke suggested, every word feeling heavy on his tongue. The last thing he wanted to tell you was to go ahead and pursue this guy. “I mean, you’re you, who wouldn’t notice you or like you?” He certainly had and did.

“No way Luke,” you huffed, “that is like the last thing I wanna do...I do not need rejection right now.”

“Come on,” Luke got up from the piano and came over to sit with you on the bed. He grabbed your arms, pulling you to sit up with him. “No one in their right mind is gonna reject you.”

“I appreciate the confidence.”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” he laughed, prodding your sides with his fingers in an effort to make you laugh.

“Stop!” You pushed his hands away but he was already smiling.

“Look, I’ll even help you,” he offered, “tell me who you like and I’ll help you, ya know, tell ‘em.”

“How will you help me tell them?” You asked, skeptically.

“I’ll help you with the song.”

You bit your bottom lip, thinking over what he had said about you telling your crush and what he said about helping you. “Okay, will you play the guitar part for it? I think the piano is nice but I kinda wanna hear it with the guitar.”

“Yeah, totally.” He nodded, gulping down the feeling of dread that settled over him. He could just see it, this song going well and you landing this guy you were clearly crazy about. All those sappy lyrics you wrote about love and longing were all for someone else.

He grabbed the guitar from its stand as you made room on the bed for him to actually play. You listened to him play the opening chords, missing your que the first time and then stopping him before he could get to it the second time. You reached out and grabbed his hand.

“What’s up?” He asked, thinking he had played something wrong.

You knew this was a massive risk, one you could potentially regret forever. One you were certain you would regret forever. But you took the chance anyway. “I just, I have to be honest with you about the song...” you trailed off.

“What about it?”

“The guy I wrote it for...it was you.”

Time felt frozen for a moment as Luke sat there, taking in this new piece of information. “Me?” He finally said.

“Yeah...I really like you. I know it’s super crazy cause, ya know...but I can’t help it.” You explained. “So?”

A smile crossed Luke’s face, “how could you ever think that I wouldn’t like you back?” He asked, “I’m crazy about you.”

“Seriously?” You knew you must’ve looked completely shell-shocked but you couldn’t help it. You had written off your crush as one side for a while now and hearing him tell you that it wasn’t felt infinitely better than you could describe.

“Yeah, of course.” He nodded. He pushed the guitar away so that he could scoot closer to you, his hand reaching up to lay on your cheek, pulling you into a kiss. You couldn’t even begin to describe what it felt like, oddly warm, completely perfect, as if the two of you were meant to fit together like this. Luke pulled away first, eyes meeting yours as he licked his lips. “God, this feels so surreal.”

“Well, you are a ghost.” You joked, stealing another quick kiss.

#luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x you #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fanfic #luke patterson fanfiction #luke patterson fic #julie and the phantoms fic #julie and the phantoms fanfic #julie and the phantoms fanfictions #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #jatp fic #jatp imagine #collecting stories imagine

229 notes · View notes

dreaminpetals · 3 years

Note

Nsfw Aesop hcccccc’s...? 👉👈😳

🌹 nsfw aesop hcs . . .

♡ for the longest time aesop would only ever rub himself and not fantasize about anything, it felt good in the moment but something was always missing.

♡ he never had a muse, a subject of his desires, someone who he could have lewd fantasies about while they were none the wiser. that was what got him off, having one person occupy all of his thoughts rather than random mourners his age he caught glimpses of at funerals.

♡ it wasn't until you got together that he started to think about you in perverted ways, you dominated his thoughts every time he got in a certain mood.

♡ the scenarios he thought of left him panting, with one hand clasped over his mouth so he could gain some semblance of self control.

♡ his favourite time to jerk off was when you were only a room away, such as when you were taking a shower and he could hear you singing.

♡ his fantasies would get so detailed that he started to write them down.

♡ aesop owned a journal and its whole purpose was to hold drawings and writings of you, every night he would whimper and chew his lip to a bloody mess as he beat off to obscene thoughts of his beloved.

♡ one night aesop had been called down for an emergency and accidentally left his journal face down on the bed.

♡ you happened to come across it and curiously flipped through the pages, not expecting anything major.

♡ however...

♡ the things you saw left your ears red and warm to the touch, you had no idea your boyfriend was thinking all of this.

♡ you figured aesop was uninterested in sexual stuff, but reading "i would love to apply their makeup and doll them all up, only to finish off their look with my hot ropes of cum... i want to paint them white..." changed your perspective in a FLASH.

♡ as if you were on autopilot, your own hand reached down to your lower half and you started touching yourself through your clothes.

♡ you were so caught up in aesop's journal that you didn't notice him enter the room.

♡ "hahh, aesop..."

♡ "yes?"

♡ your blood turned to ice at the sudden sound of his voice and there he was, stiffly holding his suitcase with both arms, staring down at you with a rising tent in his pants.

♡ as for you? your legs were spread wide open and you hadn't even made an attempt to hide what you were doing.

♡ your heart hammered in your chest, you feared aesop would feel upset and violated but he seemed... relieved?

♡ he kept his writings private because he felt like a monster and was anxious about opening up to you about his desires, only to find out you were just as turned on as he was? this is why he's dating you!!!

♡ what you did that night left both of you unable to participate in any matches for seven days straight.. it's too graphic to even begin to describe.

♡ onto some general hcs now that your first time together is done<3

♡ aesop would gladly have vanilla sex but there are lots of gritty things he's into. he'd have to ask you for permission 49287 times to be safe if you wanted to try things like bondage or letting him run his metallic embalming tools along your sensitive skin, possibly drawing blood. darker topics intrigue him more than they should but he truly doesn't want to hurt you.

♡ he's not the pure sweet innocent boy everyone thinks he is, when he sees you with a nosebleed his first thought is that he wants to help you, but his second thought? that blood is kinda sexy.

♡ he's very slow and experimental, he wants to try everything at least once with you. he'll spend hours drumming his fingers from your head to your toes to record your reactions, he wants to know everything about your body and use it to his advantage.

♡ also, you're his lover for life, if he's going to have you he wants all of you.

♡ scattering yellow rose petals on your shared bed is one of the best things you can do for him, he instantly feels important when you remember his favourite flower and try to make him feel good while he's near it.

♡ loves seeing you all dressed up in formal clothes, like a frilly dress or layered suit. naked bodies don't do much for him, but spotting you at a formal event is enough to make him yearn to drag you off and fuck you in a guest room. if you style your hair a certain way or wear thigh highs, you can catch glimpses of him weeping across the room because he wants you so badly.

♡ his usual professional facade is broken when you're in bed.

♡ he doesn't like to call you demeaning names, he prefers 'my rose' or 'doll' for partners of any gender. he couldn't call you a slut or whore because he worships you, sex is when he can let loose and sing his desperate, carnivorous praises for you so prepare to feel like a god.

♡ loves those unconventional positions, the ones where people are nearly flipped upside down. remember, he wants - needs - all of you from every angle, position, and viewpoint.

♡ whines and gasps for air so much.

♡ if you're sitting behind him and stroking his cock while planting kisses on his neck, don't be surprised if you feel hot tears dripping down his face.. he's that guy who cries during sex.

♡ huge voyeur, he loves to watch you please yourself with your hands, pillows or even toys.

♡ it's reminiscent of his first time with you, one of his happiest memories :)

#aesop carl imagine #aesop carl #idv x reader #identity v #aesop carl smut

366 notes · View notes

soyeahitsmiddleearth · 3 years

Text

Dimension Jumping Pt. 5

Comforting a grieving hobbit and time get everyone ready to go out!

Via the genius idea from katzrfsoa / Kat88

There's been mention of the reader not wanting to take the groups out, for fear of the public's reaction... so what about a cosplay convention? it would give the Reader the perfect excuse to allow them out, and they would wear their original clothes

----

This morning has been uneventful for the most part.

Breakfast passed by without issue and now everyone is off doing their own things.

You looked outside and took a peek in the guest room, but you still can't find him.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin are playing a board game you showed them; Legolas is doing his meditation sleep thing; Boromir and Aragorn are discussing something; and Gimli is stacking bread on Legolas' leg to see how long it takes until he notices.

Frodo, however, is missing at the moment.

Right as you were considering telling the others of his disappearance, however, you heard some shuffling from your hall closet.

You open the door carefully and take peer inside, not wanting to startle the small hobbit, and at first you don't see him.

There's more shuffling and you hear a quiet sniff, followed by soft sobs, and you then realize he's hiding behind the shelf.

The door makes a soft clicking sound when you close it, and right away the quiet cries cease. You didn't want to alert him with the door, you wanted to do it yourself, but it's too late now, so you just go with it.

"Frodo?" You call in a gentle voice, staying by the door incase he wants you to go.

"Y-Yes?' He calls back, not moving from his spot.

His voice is thick with emotion, and the sadness in his tone makes your heart ache painfully. And when you walk closer and see him huddled up behind the shelf, your heart breaks a little for him.

He hastily rids his cheeks of any evidence of his sorrows, though the puffiness around his eyes and constant sniffles don't much help his cause, and looks at you with a false smile.

"Frodo, why are you crying?" You ask with furrowed eyebrows, kneeling down in front of him so you may look at him at eye level (mostly).

"It's nothing." He tells you quickly, looking away from your compassionate face with the same sad frown on his lips.

When you don't move to get up or leave, his gaze slides back over to you and he realizes that you're not going to leave unless he straight up tells you to go away. This makes him sigh, but truthfully, he doesn't want you to go away. Not really. For having company in a time of sorrow always mends suffering.

"I... did not have a proper time to mourn Gandalf. I've been so caught up in the oddity that is this place that I almost forgot my sorrows altogether, but then this morning is all... came rushing back." He explains with a surprisingly even voice.

While he speaks you cross your legs and listen along intently, your hands folded neatly in your lap. When he finishes, you reach forward and place your hand atop his with a gentle touch, "I didn't know him, but I can tell he was very dear to you. Honestly, I can't offer much advice, but I can tell you that keeping it all bottled up inside is not a good idea."

He looks at you with that sad face when you speak, and it prompts you to continue, "Also, I know everyone else can be pretty overwhelming or they just don't understand, and I want you to know that I'm always here to listen if you're feeling down, okay?"

Your words draw a small smile from the grieving hobbit and it elicits a similar grin from you.

"Thank you, Y/N. I... actually do feel a little better."

"I'm glad."

---

After your discussion with Frodo you rejoin everyone back out in the main room and let him recollect himself, going right onto your laptop to get some work done.

You're idly scrolling through a scholarly article you need to research when you see it.

An advertisement for some sort of comic book, cosplay, convention... thing in the area (no wonder you've been seeing so many oddly dressed people recently).

At first you almost scroll past it, but then you get hit with the brick of knowledge and a lightbulb goes off in your head.

"Yes!" You scream, successfully scaring everyone in the room and Penny who is sitting with you for once. "Ohh, my god. This is freaking perfect!" You exclaim, clicking on the link to get some more information.

Your eyes practically soak up everything on the information page, and, once you've skimmed through all of it, you look up with a bright smile on your face.

Literally all of them are looking at you like you've grown two heads, but you only clap your hands together a few times. "Guys, I just had a huge brain moment!"

The joke goes over their heads as per usual, but you don't let that deter you.

"Huge brain moment?" Pippin asks in confusion, looking at his cousin like he thinks he heard it wrong or something.

"Yes! I've figured out a way to take everyone out!"

That certainly gets their attention.

"You have?" Sam asks exuberantly, dropping his game piece so he can turn towards you and pay perfect attention.

"I have, yes," you start, continuing once you're 100% sure they're all paying attention, "So here's the thing, I knew that I could take out you tall boi's without issue besides having to find a hat for Legolas here, and I could explain that Gimli here has dwarfism," you pause at that and realize it may be offensive to him, but you continue once more, "but I also knew that there's no way I can explain away the hobbits, and then I found this gem."

You turn the computer so it faces all of them, but they only look more confused.

"There's a convention thing in town for the next week, and it's the perfect opportunity for me to bring everyone out! We just have to dress up the hobbits a bit and pretend that they're children."

At your explanation you receive multiple pleased smiles, and it serves to make you feel even better about your idea. "And you can all wear your normal clothes, too. And if someone asks who you are... I'll figure out a game or something you guys can use as an alias."

"Are you sure that will work?" Aragorn asks with furrowed eyebrows, sitting up from his spot in your arm chair.

"Um, like, maybe 98%." You confirm with a shrug, "It's better than 88% though."

He doesn't seem like he disagrees with you, so you look back at your laptop again and start to look for ideas to make them more believable as humans.

---

3 hours of research later, and you've successfully compiled a completely fool proof plan to smuggle this merry band of bizarre boys out of your house.

What you've decided is that you'll put some makeup over Legolas' pointy ears to make them look more fake since the concept of elves is not lost in this world. Boromir and Aragorn can go as themselves, and you'll put some makeup on the hobbits much like you will Legolas (they'll be children elves since there are no hobbits in your world) and tell everyone who asks how they look so good that you're a professional makeup artist.

Gimli, fortunately for you, was the easiest to come up with something for next to the other two humans of this group. You can just tell people he has dwarfism and that's why he chose to go as a dwarf character.

Everything is in order except for what you're going to do, though you suppose you should match their theme and be some sort of renaissance, maiden, lady, thing. You'll figure it out, though you do need to make sure it's convincing like theirs.

You decided to, instead of putting it off, go ahead and start working on finding a costume to match theirs.

A couple of searches later and you come across a really pretty dress that looks to fit their style, and when you show it to them they give you the thumbs up, so you order it with express shipping so it should arrive tomorrow.

It's a lovely flowy medieval dress *just look up flowy medieval dress and go to images, there are some good examples there*, and you feel excited just looking at it. Of course, there's no guarantee that it'll be the best quality, but it's got great reviews and you certainly paid a hefty sum for it.

After that's done with you head to your bathroom to see what makeup you've got, and you find that you don't really have any theatrical/special effects makeup. You're going to need skin colored wax makeup, powders, and contour stuff.

You're no makeup artist, obviously, but luckily for you, your goal is to make them look less realistic, so it should be easy enough.

It's surprisingly easy to figure out what you need to make them as convincing as possible, and pretty soon you've got a nice little list going on that outlines each thing you need.

Since you don't want to delay anymore, you head out of your bathroom and grab your bag while putting on your shoes, "Legolas, I'm leaving now if you wanna come with." You suggest since he stated his desire to join you in the one of the last chapters (:o).

When you call his name he looks over at you quickly, smiling a bit at your offer, "Yes, but you said I need a hat."

"Oh yeah! I have one, just gimme a sec." You tell him, walking over to a drawer.

When you open said drawer, you find a grey beanie with ease and toss it over to him, "Here ya go. Make sure it covers your ears... and uh, tuck your hair up into it too if you don't mind."

He does as you say with ease and, surprisingly, he looks just as good with shorter hair as he does longer hair.

It sticks kinda awkwardly at first, so you waltz on over and gesture for him to crouch down so you don't have to reach up.

Once again he does as you request and leans down so you may fix it.

You adjust it a bit to make sure it won't fall first, and then you smooth it back a bit so it'll also look stylish. And once you're done you take a step back and smile at him brightly.

"All done! Let's go!"

---

He seemed rather fascinated in the way your car works first and foremost, but once you got him to look out his window instead of watching you, his excitement quickly turned into awe.

When you both get to the ULTA store he follows you without hesitation and asks some hushed questions about things he sees, like the light up signs, other passing cars, stoplights, and some other things.

You, of course, answer each question happily and lead him inside, holding the door open for him while he enters and looks around the brightly lit up makeup store.

Right away you head towards the general direction of the nose and scar wax (it's multi purpose, don't judge me), forgetting to make sure that Legolas follows you.

When it does occur to you, however, that the blond elf didn't come after you, you panic.

You turn in a circle and only stop when you see him standing with some ladies who practically have hearts in their eyes.

Unconsciously you breathe a sigh of relief and head over with the wax in your little basket, immediately reaching up to wrap your arm around his, "I got the first thing on my list, come on."

The girls stop their giggles and flirting as soon as you show up and look genuinely surprised.

You give them a smile and nod in acknowledgement, not wanting to make them feel bad over something so silly before turning with your arm still around his own and walking him over to look at some contour stuff and other things.

They make some snide comments when you turn your back about you being a 'clingy girlfriend' and 'not pretty enough to be with a model like that', but you only ignore it and relish in the fact that you didn't make them feel bad over something as silly as a cute guy in a makeup store.

"Why are those women talking about you like that?" He asks in a whisper, leaning down so only you will hear his question.

You look up at him with a bit or surprise since you didn't expect him to pick up on that, before you smile, "They're attracted to you, and they think that I was being selfish with taking you away from their advances."

"Selfish? Advances?" He looks confused, but you only smile and turn back to the display case.

"Don't worry your pretty little head over it, Leggy my boy."

"Leggy?" He asks slowly, looking at you in confusion.

"Leggy." You confirm with a nod with a distracted hum.

It isn't much later that you have everything you need, and so you go to the checkout and buy everything.

"Going to the convention?" The girl at the counter asks with a smile.

You smile back and nod your head, glancing up at Legolas before looking back at her, "That obvious?"

"No of course not, just the items in your basket always fly off the shelves around convention time." She replies with a giggle, ringing up all your items.

"Well, that's fair." You muse, putting your card into the reader to pay for it.

Once everything is in order she hands you your receipt and adds, "Maybe I'll see you there."

"Maybe!" You chirp back happily, liking the nice conversation going on here.

"You and your boyfriend have a good day now!"

You elect to ignore that.

---

On the way home you pretend to not notice the black car following yours and make small talk with the elf, answering some more of his questions and speaking idly on different things.

"There are so many odd, interesting things here..." He comments after a while, glancing out the back window. "Are you aware that, that car has been following us for the past 10 minutes?"

You nod and hum as an answer, "Mmhm, it's just Brian. He's probably trying to figure out who you are."

The blond knits his eyebrows together and glances back to look at the car again, "Should I do something about it?"

"The only thing you can do is ignore it. He went from lowercase 's' stalker to uppercase 's' since you guys arrived, and it'll only get worse if you intervene." You mumble, trying not to look in the rearview mirror at him. "It's fine."

"You don't seem to think it's fine." He challenges in the same even tone, turning in his seat towards you.

Instead of answering his question you look at him while you stop at a light and grumble, "I told you to put your seatbelt on."

"It's uncomfortable."

"I don't care."

"I will be fine."

"Not if we get into a crash, you won't."

The two of you stare each other down before he slowly reaches up and buckles his belt, never breaking eye-contact.

"Good boy." You coo in a way-too sweet voice.

"Anyways, I know we said as much before, but you needn't worry about that man while we're here." He continues despite your obvious subject change.

"I know." Your reply is softer and less defensive this time, for you really do appreciate it, "Thank you."

He looks surprised at your sudden gratitude, and his expression shows as much "For what?"

"For being you. For looking out for me. All of you."

This time he smiles and says no more.

---

When you both get back to your house you immediately put everything in your bathroom and get onto your laptop to view some techniques on theatrical and movie makeup, Pippin and Merry on either side of you while they view through the pictures and videos with you.

"That one looks interesting." Merry pipes up suddenly, pointing at a person to wolf makeup transformation.

"Yep, and way past anything I can do."

This pattern of going through pictures and viewing clips goes on for a little while until they two hobbits depart to have lunch, meanwhile you continue on so that tomorrow will be a success.

You're both excited and nervous at the same time, wanting to see how it'll all turn out but also dreading it incase something goes wrong.

You know the most important thing is to have a positive mindset about it, but it's kinda hard sometimes during your more anxious moments.

Also, there's the issue of Brian possibly following all of you...

Nah, that'll be a problem to think on for tomorrow.

"What time will we leave tomorrow?" Aragorn asks from his usual spot on the rocking chair, Penny still nestled in his lap as per usual.

"Around the morning. I bought the tickets already so we won't have to stand in line for too long... Hopefully."

"Thank you for working so hard so that we may see more of your world." He comments suddenly, stroking his hand down her fluffy back.

You tilt your head to the side and smile a bit, "You don't have to thank me."

"No, I do. You have seen to our every need and we no doubt pose to be a huge burden. Thank you, really."

His words make you flush slightly, and you look away shyly.

You've grown to care about all of them, so of course you would do anything to keep them comfortable at this point. More than anything you're just glad they see how much you're trying to make things easy on them. It feels nice being recognized for your efforts.

Plus, the added protection from Brian is pretty sweet.

"Anything for you guys."

#the fellowship x reader #the fellowship of the ring #the fellowship of the ring x reader #frodo baggins #pippin took #boromir #lotr gimli #legolas greenleaf #samwise gamgee #merry brandybuck #aragorn #lord of the rings fanfiction #dimension jumping pt. 5 #dimension jumping pt. 2 #frodo x reader

164 notes · View notes

heliotropehotch · 3 years

Text

coffee (pt.2) - a.h. x gn!reader

Request: coffee pt2? - @weasleylovers

a/n: i don’t really know what this is lmao i kinda hate it i just wanted to give long lost lovers some fluff. next will be shrike pt 2 and my first ever hotch smut >:) thanks to @yes-sir-hotchner for existing <3

Masterlist

Part One

author: abby <3

words: 1379

warnings/content: none? date night at a restaurant? kissing? fluff

Y/N’s fingers glided carefully along the pages of the file on their desk in front of them. The other hand’s fingers pressed into their eyebrows in an attempt to smooth the focused crease that rested between them. The haze of the morning glazed over their eyes and no matter how hard they tried to focus on the words that drifted around, but their mind was clouded with memories from the previous case.

A huff left their mouth as they once again caught the small grin crossing their own face. Pushed down old feelings had now resurfaced and it was just as frustrating as before.

“Y/N-” Agent Grant knocked on the frame of the open door to their office, a small smirk lying on her face. She stepped past the threshold, a paper cup of coffee pressed into her palm. “You have a delivery.”

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion, hand reaching across the desk to take the cup. A sticky note laid on the lid. Dinner tonight? - A. Their lips folded between their teeth in an attempt to conceal the smile threatening to break.

Suze huffed out a laugh turning to walk back out. “Call me after you’re done with him, we’re gonna have a lot to talk about.”

The cell phone in their pocket started ringing as the door shut. Y/N pulled it out, a sigh ready to leave their lips until they noticed the contact name. There was no use in hiding the chuckled now.

“You know, if you wanted to get dinner so bad, you could have just texted,” the corners of their mouth pulled up into a teasing smile, even though he couldn’t see.

“Yeah,” his deep chuckle reverberated through the speaker, and through their bones. “But where’s the romance in that?”

Y/N paused in their seat, the pen they had been messing with hung still in the air. They breathed into the phone, “Romance?”

A pause, a silence was louder than the words they had been saying before, until he answered. “...Yeah. Romance.”

He could hear their smile, could almost see the brightness of it, when they answered in kind. “What were you thinking?”

“Nope,” he laughed, hearing them almost whine. “That’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“Aaron-” his heart thrummed in his chest like it always did when they said his name. “I need to know how I should dress.”

“No, you don’t, Y/N/N,” he smiled softer now. “You’ll be perfect in anything.”

“Oh hush,” they chuckled. “I’ll see you tonight Aar.”

“See you.”

~~~~~~~~~

Y/N paced nervously at their front door. Aaron was familiar, comfortable. Someone they knew they could trust in the end of all things. But this was uncharted territory. It was the fact that it was Aaron. He was incomparable in their eyes, a love so near to their heart that it was sure to be there until the day they died.

The night was unsure. His plans had stayed hidden as a secret, but Y/N was only trying to figure out what it meant, what everything had meant since they had held onto each other’s hands in the coffee shop. They had some idea of what he held for them some years back, before BAU, before… everything. But that didn’t mean the same was felt now, now that they could both do something about it.

An abrupt knock against the door caused them to nearly jump out of their skin. The thought of simply ignoring it crossed their mind, but they had to push down their anxiety eventually. A breath, a pause with their hand on the door handle, before the door swayed open.

A beat of silence passed as they took each other in. Aaron stood more casual than he had at the police station. He wore dark jeans, with a dark button up showing more skin than his usual suit and tie did. They could have melted then and there.

“Y/N, you look incred-”

“Is this a date?” Aaron blinked back his shock, mouth struggling to find words. “Because I’d be happy if it was, but I’d also be okay if it wasn’t. And I know you said ‘romantic’ earlier but I wasn’t sure if you actually meant that or if you were just being funny and I’d really like it to be a date but if it’s not then I don’t wanna make things weird-”

Aaron’s hands moved to their cheeks, pressing his lips to their forehead. “Sweetheart,” he breathed out the sentiment, Y/N’s heart racing at the touch. “This was supposed to be a date. But if you would rather it not be then it doesn’t have to be.”

Their face melted into a sappy smile, adoring the man standing in front of them. “Of course I want it to be a date, Aaron.”

He smiled widely, taking a step back from their body. He held out hand, which Y/N promptly intertwined their fingers with. “Then let’s go.”

~~~~~~

“Aaron,” he hummed in response as he parked the car. “Are we reminiscing tonight?”

He chuckled, stepping out of the car and smoothing his pants. “I figured it had been too long since we had been back here together.”

Y/N smiled softly, remembering the nights Aaron would spend with them at this restaurant, laughing at their superiors and fellow trainees. “It has been too long.”

Everything felt like deja vu. They had done this a thousand times, sitting in the booths and ordering food while they tried to relax from their day and talked out their frustrations.

“I feel like we got into a time machine,” Y/N chuckled, as they finished their meal. “It feels like nothing’s changed.”

Aaron tentatively reached across the table, palm up, which they took with a sweet smile. “I hope some things have changed.”

They squeezed his fingers in his, a sign of admiration on their part. “Only for the better.”

The pair talked about jobs, about Jack, about Y/N’s dog they affectionately named Pilot. It was like no time had passed, like the two had been together since the day they had been apart.

Now walking down the sidewalk, hand in hand, Y/N could feel the pieces falling into place. The feelings they had kept to themselves as much as they could, were pushing past any kind of barrier.

He led you to your door, a hesitant hand resting on their back. “I’m glad we got to do this, Y/N. If we’re being honest, I’ve had feelings for you since we first met. Things were just complicated back then and I-”

Y/N slid their hands up his chest, palms coming to meet his cheeks. Reaching up, they pressed their lips to Aaron’s forehead, a smile forming on the kiss. They pulled away, bodies staying close together, but far enough to look into his eyes. The spoke softly, eyes trying to not flicker to his lips, “Ditto.”

His eyes had less discipline than theirs, a soft smile resting on his lips and his gaze flickered to their lips. His hands wrapped around their waist as he pulled them back into his body.

Kissing Aaron Hotchner was something to be sure of. His movements were clear, as his tongue swept against their lower lip, asking for entry. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer and winding their fingers in the hair on the nape of his neck. His arms tightened around their waist, humming as their body pressed fully into his. He tasted like mint and coffee.

Their hearts pounded in their chest as they pulled away to catch their breaths, forehead’s resting against each other’s. Heavy breaths filled the small space between them. Y/N’s hands moved against his neck as they spoke softly, not wanting to disturbed the electrified space that settled between them. “Do you want to come in for some coffee?”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, smiling.

They smiled, reluctantly stepping away from him to enter their apartment. They tugged his hand inside and giggles sounded as the door closed with the weight of their bodies against it.

Aaron had decided long ago that no amount of caffeine could match the rush he felt in their arms.

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds #thomas gibson #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #gn!reader

88 notes · View notes

marcherarrant · 3 years

Text

"On this day, March 1st 2021, Marcher Arrant sets off for his biggest walk yet...a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail."Here we go!!! This is so surreal, I can't believe this is happening! I'm excited and nervous! This is so much more than a walk. Every walk I do is. It is my way of life, my art, my therapy, my source of meaning, ect. But this walk in particular is something even more. This walk is the crossing over of a threshold. It is a self created rite of passage, a new beginning. As a Walker my I embrace a philosophy of becoming, of constant movement, of no beginning or ending, constant flux. That being said, there are moments of being, moments when flowers bloom. I'm in love with shows and movies in which you see people become their destiny. It's perhaps a banal example but the first show that comes to mind is Better Call Saul. I watched that with such joy seeing him become the sleazy lawyer he was meant to become. I was destined to become this person I have always dreamt myself to be, Marcher Arrant. This walk is where I become him fully. I made a real life flag as a symbol of that. I was born a Walker. I began walking more than those around me when I was in 6th or 7th grade. And my love for it has continually grown through the years and there have been countless thresholds I've crossed that have been pivotal in marking me for my destiny. It was around middle school or early high school that I walked from my house to downtown Columbus, a 4 hour walk. I later walked there and back. Years later I walked the tracks from Boulder, Colorado to Denver, a twelve hour walk. I ended up doing that walk a lot. Eventually I walked to Denver and back, walking for more than 24 hours without stopping. Then I started doing aimless 24 hour walks all the time. I moved to Paris. From there I did my first long distance walk, a month-long trip from Paris to Rocessvelles, Spain. That opened up a whole new door. I then walked the entire length of every street in Paris. And on and on and on... so many walks. In Paris, maybe 10 years ago now, thanks to my homie Curve (@thecurvazoid, forever grateful) I began toying with graff, came up with my character and name. I later moved to Spain and did many more walks. For most of my life my walking was something personal that I did not share with anyone. I thought it romantic, beautiful and pure that my art was just for me. But then I had a health scare and it was then I got the urge to share what I do online. I felt I had something unique to offer the world and I did not want to die without sharing it. I am glad I did because doing so gave my life so much more meaning. I then got into making art and books and fell in love with that. 2 years ago I decided that before I did another big walk that I would catch my art up to my life and make books and art from all my previous walks so that when I did the next walk I could focus for the first time on making art and a book while I was doing the walk instead of going back and doing it after the fact. I finished all the art and books for my past walks. This is the first walk where everything comes together for the first time, the walk, the art, the book, the graffiti. Also over the last two years I decided to set up for myself work so that I will always have a job no matter where in the world I am so that I can walk with no pause. I began an online English teaching business. It was a long road to be able to get enough students so that I could make a living from it. I have finally gotten to the point where I am fully booked. I begin my dream life now, a sustainable life where through art and teaching English I can walk forever and take care of myself. My dream is to spend my life walking the world, alternating from long distance walks to living in new cities and fully exploring those, walking every street and painting and making art. This is a dream come true, my idiosyncratic idea of the perfect life, a life I will never tire of, one that suits who I am in the most perfect way. I am in love with the writer Nietzsche who philosophy was about making your life a work of art, living in a way that ties together all the aspects of you into a beautiful whole. The work I have done over the past few years with the walking, the graffiti, the English teaching, the art and books, the travel and how they have all tied together at this moment, with this walk, I have accomplished this goal of making my life a work of art and tying all the aspects of my life into a harmony. No matter what happens in my life now, I can die happy having accomplished this. For me, it is a sort of intangible form of art, my greatest accomplishment. It is so hard to figure out who you are and what you want when there is no precursor to it. I am so fucking proud of myself for believing in my strange vision despite the fact that until very recently it never gave me a cent, never did anything to advance my life or do anything for me besides the meaning it gave to me. It is so hard to keep doing something that seems to everyone around you, to society, to be utterly useless. You have to be brave and trust your vision.

The hardest part of any walk for me is getting to the starting point. I grew up pretty poor. When you grow up poor, at least for me, everything seems so out of reach. You have this unconscious feeling that you would never be able to do so many things. This is great because when you do those things your mind is just blown and you are so amazed and in disbelief and you don’t take it for granted in the slightest. I never in a million years thought I would be able to live in another country. I thought that was something rich people do which is totally untrue but that is just the kind of mentality you have when you grow up poor. When I moved to Europe it was surreal. Every single day, for the ten years I lived there, I was in total awe that I was there. I did not have a single boring day. Every single day I could not believe I lived there and that did not lessen a single minute bit the entire time I lived there. It is the same way I feel about doing long distance walks. I was so amazed by the idea of the Appalachian Trail when I was a kid. But I thought only rich people could do it. The fact that I am setting out to do it today is absolutely surreal. I am in total disbelief that I am doing it. I keep getting scared that somehow something is going to happen so that I can’t do it. I don’t take it for granted in the slightest that I get to do it. It literally feels like a miracle to me. And there are so many to thank for it. First I want to thank my mom and step dad who let me live at their house rent free while I worked on starting my online English teaching business and making barely any money. I never could have started my business without them and saved the money I have. I thank my grandma, my dad and step mom, my sisters, my brother and all my family who have helped me so much. Thank you so so so much to the people who have bought art, books, stickers from me over the past couple years, people who have given me donations, people who bought shirts, pins ect. I never could have done this walk without that support and I am eternally grateful and forever in your debt. I take none of that for granted. Thank you for all the kind words, messages and comments, you have no idea how much that has helped me to keep on. You have no idea. No fucking idea. I could kiss every last one of you. These past two years have been two of the hardest years of my life. For the past year I worked 7 days a week, waking up at 4:30am. For various reasons I went through some horrendous depression, so many suicidal thoughts. So many times I wanted to take the money I saved for this walk and check myself into a mental hospital. All the positive words from people really helped me to keep on. Thank you so much. Thank you to my crew, the Abe Lincoln Brigade, Impeach, Hank, and Alamo. I’m so grateful and honored to be in a crew with such legends, people who I’ve always idolized. Thanks again to Curve (@thecurvazoid) for giving me one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever been given, the gift of getting me creating art. And thank you to Art Primo (@artprimo ) for sponsoring this walk with art supplies. Not only does this help financially but the fact that such a legendary company believes in what I do enough to give me supplies is such an honor and so fucking encouraging.

There are two new things that I am doing with this walk. One, is that I will be making art with the guidebook pages as I do the walk. I have already made art with maps from my walks, but I did it after I did the walk. This is the first time I will be making art as I am actually doing the walk. I am so in love with this idea. And I love that when I send the art it will be from whatever town I am in along the walk. I think that makes the envelope itself kinda a piece of art. Selling art along the way will also make it so I spend the money for my trip at a slower rate and hopefully not end totally broke like I usually do. The second new thing I will be doing is making it so people can follow my walk online. I have a gps device that also tracks me and sends that information to a website. I think that’s kinda fun and cool. It also makes it so if you want to meet up and you see I’m near you you can reach out. A lot of people have offered me a place to stay or just meet up and I am so disorganized that It makes it hard to remember all the people and where they live. Hopefully this helps to make meeting up possible. You can follow my walk at share.garmin.com/marcherarrant. Again, thank you all for everything!

#marcherarrant #walking art #walking artist

114 notes · View notes

babybluebex · 4 years

Text

it takes two [peter parker]

➽ pairing: peter parker x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 3.0k ➽ summary: an accidental discovery leads peter and you to discuss poly-nylons, tony stark, and aunt may’s burnt meatloaf. ➽ warnings: awkward teenage feels, fluff, all that good stuff ➽ a/n: nerdy little peter melts my heart uwu. enjoy!

“Hey, Y/N. Y/N!”

I turned to see Peter fumbling with his books, and I extended my arms to catch them. “Hey, Pete,” I chuckled. I looked at one of the books in my hand and saw the official autobiography of tech giant Tony Stark, and I laughed. “We get it, man, you’re in love with Tony Stark.”

“I’m not,” Peter said quickly. “Just wanna read up on my boss.”

“Right,” I said with a click of my tongue. “The whole internship thing. That seems like a pretty sweet gig, Pete.”

“It’s…” Peter began and nodded. “It’s alright.”

“What do you actually do?” I asked, placing the biography of Peter’s one true love back on his stack of books. “Do you do paperwork? Or Mr. Stark’s laundry?”

That elicited a laugh out of Peter. Peter Parker and I had been friends for a while, since we were lab partners in eighth grade biology, and I had been one of the first people he told about the internship. As excited as he was to get it, though, he never really talked too much about it. “I do…” He began. “Um… Stuff.”

“Well, yeah, that’s what I’m asking,” I said, shouldering my backpack. “What kinda stuff?”

“This and that,” Peter shrugged. “Sorta whatever needs to be done.”

I nodded slowly. “Uh-huh,” I responded. “Well, since you’re not gonna tell me, I’ll tell you some big news.”

“Sure,” Peter said. “What is it?”

“I got an interview for MIT,” I grinned, and joy overcame Peter’s face. His arms instinctually went out to hug me, but his stack of books went tumbling to the ground around us. He paid it no mind and hugged me tightly anyway, rocking us as he embraced me. Peter gave amazing hugs; that’s one thing nearly everyone can agree on.

“That’s awesome, Y/N!” Peter exclaimed. “When is it?”

“Friday evening,” I said. “And I’m freaking out really bad. Do you think you could help me prep?”

Peter had already bent down and begun to retrieve his books. “Why me?” He asked. “A-Ask Flash, he’s on the debate team.”

“Because I don’t want to ask Flash,” I sighed. “I want to ask you. God, Pete, you got an internship with Stark Industries! Why wouldn’t I ask for your help with interviews? I mean, I assume there was an interview process…”

“Um, sorta,” Peter said. “Yeah, yep, there was.”

My eyes narrowed. “What was that turn around?” I asked. “‘Sorta’ an interview, but also yes?”

“It wasn’t a, uh, a typical interview,” Peter said. “I met Mr. Stark’s head of security before him.”

“Wait, hold on!” I cried. “You’ve met Tony Stark?”

“I told you about this!” Peter smiled. “We went on that company retreat!”

“Th-The one to Berlin?” I asked. “You met Tony freaking Stark in Berlin? How’d I not know this, Peter?”

“I remember telling you,” Peter said. “I missed those days, and I texted you asking about homework, and you told me we had a test and asked how the retreat was, and I said that it was awesome and I met Tony Stark.”

“I don’t remember that,” I said. “But come on, Petey! Please help me prep for this interview, MIT is my dream school!” I grasped his arm and pouted at him, and I said, “For me?”

Peter rolled his eyes jokingly. “Sure,” He said with a smile, as sincere as always. “Just come by tonight, I’ll get Aunt May to order a pizza or something and we’ll work it out.”

I hugged Peter tightly. “Thank you!” I giggled. “Hey, save me a seat at lunch, yeah?”

“Umm, Ned’s brought a few pieces of his Death Star,” Peter began. “It might take up a lot of space.”

“I’ll help,” I said. “If you don’t mind, that is.”

“S-Sure,” Peter said, the tips of his ears turning pink. “We could use your smaller hands for some of the more intricate parts of the build.”

“Great,” I said as the bell rang long and high for classes to start. “Crap. I’ll see ya, Pete!”

The day passed as slowly as any normal school day would. I didn’t have a math club meeting that afternoon on account of our faculty sponsor being sick, so I was able to go home before I went to Peter’s. I gathered all of my MIT stuff from my desk and shoved it into my bag, and I opened my computer for a minute before my mom inevitably made me come to the living room. Twitter was already open (I didn’t pay great attention during last period physics), and I clicked around the trending page for a moment before seeing, at the very bottom of the list of trending topics, something called the “Man-Spider”. It wasn’t being talked about too much, but it was a trending topic in my area; knowing that someone would probably ask about it at school tomorrow, I clicked on it.

It was a shaky phone video of a man in a blue and red suit on the rooftop of a building that was adjacent to the videographer. “Hey, you’re that Man-Spider from YouTube!” the videographer yelled.

“Call me Spiderman!” The suited man replied back, his voice echoing around the street.

“Okay! Do a flip, Spiderman!”

The so-called Spiderman flipped backwards, eliciting a whoop from the videographer. The video ended there, and I huffed out a quiet laugh. Peter was really into gymnastics; he would like this video. I tagged him, @pparker101, figuring that he would watch it before I got to his place.

When I finally got myself up and made my way across the borough to Peter and his Aunt May’s apartment, May answered the door. She was a tall and thin woman with long hair that she usually pulled up, and she smiled when she saw me. “Aw, hey, Miss Y/N,” May said. “What’s going on?”

“Peter’s helping me with an interview thing tonight,” I said. “Is that alright?”

“Oh, sweetheart, of course,” May said, waving her hand around. “Where are you interviewing?”

“MIT,” I replied. “The actual interview is on Friday, but, since he’s got that internship with Stark Industries, I figured he would help me prepare.”

“Oh, good job,” May said. “Yeah, Pete popped out to get a sandwich, but you’re welcome to wait for him. Are you hungry? I’m making meatloaf.”

I had known May for long enough to know that it was safest to skip out on the meatloaf. “Oh, I’m alright,” I told her. “I ate before I came.”

“If you change your mind…” May sang and scrunched her nose at me as she smiled. “Pete said that you helped him and Ned with their Death Star build today; how was that?”

“Pretty great,” I smiled. “It was a lot of pieces and we’re not finished yet, but all working together was pretty sweet.”

“I bet,” May replied. “All of you are so smart, I could never do that, even with instructions.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out to see Peter replying to me on Twitter with a simple :). “Thanks, May,” I said. “Um, I think I’m gonna go set up in Peter’s room.”

“Alright, Miss Y/N,” May said and gave me a quick hug. “Have fun.”

Peter’s room was messy as always, discarded projects all over the place, and laundry piled in the corner of his bottom bunk. I sat down on the edge of the bottom bunk and started to extract my papers and things to practice, but there was a weird sound from behind me. It was quiet and I almost missed it, but the cool breeze that hit my shoulder helped alert me to the fact that the window was open. I turned over my shoulder, expecting to see the widow accidentally unlatched and opening, but instead I saw something completely different: my best friend crawling on the ceiling.

I couldn’t form words. I wasn’t convinced that I was actually seeing what was happening. Peter was attached upside down to his ceiling, wearing a weird onesie-looking outfit with alternating red and blue panels. He was quiet as he crawled to the other side of the room, and he extended his hand, his middle two fingers and thumb folded into his palm, and a string of white shot from his wrist and attached to the corner of the door. Peter tugged the door closed with ease, as if he had done it before, then he expertly flipped from the ceiling and landed on the carpet with the grace of an Olympic gymnast. His back was to me, but, now that I saw him better, I saw that he wore the exact same outfit that the Man-Spider wore in the Twitter video.

“Holy shit, are you the Man-Spider?” I cried, and Peter flinched. He turned to me, his face stricken with panic, and I saw a black arachnid symbol in the middle of his chest. “You are! Holy shit, Peter--”

“Dude, shut up!” Peter hissed quickly. His hand came up to his chest and he pressed on the spider symbol, and the tight suit loosened and fell off of his body. “I-I’m not the Man-Spider--”

“Spiderman!” I recalled from the video. “Peter, what the actual fuck--”

“Shut up!” Peter pleaded, rushing to me and pressing his hand against my mouth. He was right on top of me, his chest nearly touching mine with each breath, and his dark eyes were wide at me. “Y/N, you… You can’t tell anyone. Please!”

I shifted my head in order to remove his hand. “Are you serious…” I began. “You’re Spiderman? Wait, how did this happen? Was it the Stark internship, did Tony Stark do this to you?”

“I’ll explain everything,” Peter whispered. “Just, you really cannot tell anyone.”

“Does May know?” I asked quickly.

“Are you kidding me?” Peter scoffed. He reached down and grabbed a shirt and began to dress himself; I had noticed that, after the suit came off, he was only in boxers, but I figured that it was better not to say anything. “If she knew, she’d go ballistic.”

I sighed heavily and sat down on the bed once more. “Make this make sense,” I groaned, pressing my head into my hands. “Did this happen to you? Did you make it happen? Is this a Bruce Banner thing?”

“No,” Peter said quickly, and he sat down next to me. “Look, it’s a really long story, but the basics are that I was bitten by a radioactive spider and now I can do weird things. Like, things I never was able to do before. I’m really strong now, Y/N, and I just… I can do that.” He said and pointed to the ceiling. “But Tony Stark found out about me somehow and he tapped me to help him in some sort of weird fight with him and Captain America. He made me that suit! It’s really cool!”

“It is!” I said quickly. “So, are you, like, an Avenger now? Is that what the Stark internship is?”

Peter paused for a moment, and his cheeks turned pink. “Yeah, I mean…” He started. “Basically, yeah, I’m an Avenger.”

“Oh my God,” I laughed. “That’s awesome, Peter! But… Why would you keep this from me?” There was no point disguising the hurt in my voice. That was it, plain and simple. “I thought we told each other everything.”

“We do,” Peter said. “I just… Mr. Stark told me to keep this a secret. He said that anyone who knew could be in danger. I didn’t want you getting hurt.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. The secrecy hurt and it wouldn’t stop for a while, but my excitement overshadowed that. “This is super cool, Peter,” I laughed. “So, the thing you just shot, do you-- Like, does your body make that? Like a spider? Was that a web?”

“Yeah, it’s a web,” Peter smiled widely. “But my body doesn’t make them. That would be super gross.”

“Sorta, yeah,” I agreed.

“Nah, it’s, uh,” Peter began and rushed over to the forgotten suit on the floor. “It’s a poly-nylon substance that’s loaded in these web shooters that Mr. Stark made me. They’re super strong and take three hours to fully dissolve. They come out of this shooter that I wear on my wrist.” He lifted up the silver web shooter to show me, and I grinned at it.

“That’s awesome,” I chuckled. “Wait, does Ned know?”

“No,” Peter said quickly.

“MJ?”

“No.”

“Liz? Betty? Flash?”

“You’re the only one,” Peter reiterated. “Nobody else knows. Mr. Stark, Happy, Pepper, everyone at SHIELD, and you. You’re the only outsider.”

“This is…” I began. “This is really cool, don’t get me wrong, but isn’t it dangerous?”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded. “I mean… Yeah. Everytime I go on a mission, I’m not really sure if I’m coming back.”

I sighed and rubbed my neck. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Petey,” I started. “But I really don’t like this. The idea of my best friend being an Avenger is super cool, but it’s scary as shit. I can’t lose you, Pete. Nobody gets me like you do, and I don’t know what I’d do if you died and I didn’t know why.”

Peter was quiet as he came back to sit down next to me, his web shooter still in his hand. He toyed with it for a moment, then placed it in my lap. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what else to tell you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Pete, you didn’t do anything wrong,” I said. “You were doing what you were told was right. If anything, Tony Stark needs to apologize to me.”

Peter scoffed. “Good luck with that,” he said. “You’re cool. Ya know that?”

“Me?” I chuckled. “You’re freaking Spiderman, dude! You’re cooler than everyone at Midtown! So, is Peter Parker, like, your alter ego? Like Batman?”

“Batman isn’t real,” Peter said pointedly.

“The point stands, ass,” I said and shoved his shoulder, eliciting a laugh from him.. “By day, you’re a nerdy high school student and, by night, you’re an Avenger?”

“Sorta,” Peter shrugged sheepishly. “I guess, I mean… Not to brag, but--”

“Brag away!” I said.

“I’m supposed to be helping you with your interview,” Peter began. “I think maybe we can table this until later. Yeah?”

“Fine,” I said with a pout. “Let me get my stuff…”

I turned to retrieve my papers and everything that I had brought, and Peter’s hand returned to my lap to grab the web shooter. The fates, though, decided to throw a wrench into our casual moment, because the ajar door burst open to show May. Before I knew what was happening, Peter had shoved the web shooter down between my thighs in an attempt to quickly hide it, and he pressed his lips to mine. I caught on instantly; his hand between my legs only made sense if we were kissing. It was an easy cover up, something to get May out of the room, and-- honestly-- probably something that May had been suspecting all along.

“Oh!” She exclaimed and backed out of the room, and Peter gave me a tight grimace. I could almost hear him stuttering out an apology. “Sorry, guys! I didn’t mean to--”

“That’s about my luck, huh?” Peter said loudly and laughed. “It’s-- Ah, shit-- Sorry, May!”

“No, don’t be sorry,” May said from behind the door. Peter pulled the web shooter from between my legs and grabbed his suit, and he shoved them under the blankets behind me. “Don’t let me interrupt... Whatever that was. Peter, please remember to use a--”

“May, hush!” Peter cried, and I saw genuine embarrassment rise in his cheeks. “We’re not-- We weren’t--”

“We were just kissing, May!” I said quickly. “Nothing else!”

“Right,” May said. “Have fun. Meatloaf’s burnt, so, if you guys want something to eat, we can get Thai. Or you two can get Thai and I’ll stay here--”

“May!” Peter groaned.

“Right, I’ll leave you two alone,” May said, and Peter and I held our breath until we were sure she wasn’t at the door anymore.

“God, sorry, Y/N,” Peter mumbled, pushing his hair out of his face. “It’s the only thing I could think of--”

“No big,” I said. “But I’m sure May thinks we’re dating now.”

“She’s thought that since eighth grade,” Peter said and rolled his eyes. “Now she has ‘proof’.”

“I mean…” I started. Too late to go back now. “I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t thought of it before.”

“Us dating?” Peter asked.

“I know you like Liz and MJ, so it’s always been…” I started. “Never mind.”

“Sure, I like Liz and MJ,” Peter said. “But I like you too. Like, in a different way than I like Liz and MJ.”

“Like, in a girlfriend way?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Peter said. He was looking down at his lap, obviously abashed and not wanting to look at me. “You’re really funny and smart, and you’re super pretty… Mr. Stark thinks you’re cute too.”

“Tony Stark knows about me?” I asked. “He thinks I’m cute?”

“N-Not in a creepy way,” Peter said quickly. “When I went to Berlin, I brought a picture of you in my luggage, and Mr. Stark-- Well, Happy found it and he told Mr. Stark, and he said that you were pretty… Encouraged me to ask you out… Gave me… Ahem, pointers on how to ask you out.”

“Really?” I grinned. This was amusing to find out. Tony Stark knew who I was. That was almost as cool as finding out my best friend was an Avenger. “What’d he say?”

“Some really gross stuff, to be honest,” Peter chuckled. “Nothing I’d ever say to you, not even jokingly. But… Whatever. Anyway. MIT interview--”

I leaned in towards Peter and kissed him again, and I felt his smile against my lips. He kissed me back, his arms wrapping around me and tugging me close, and, when the kiss broke, I whispered, “So, does Spiderman have a girlfriend?”

“I’m sure he can get one if he wants to,” Peter said.

“Does he want to?” I asked.

“Duh!”

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x bestfriend!reader #peter parker fluff #spiderman #spiderman x reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #mcu #sm:hoco #sm:ffh #ca:cw #avengers #i miss tony stark #q

326 notes · View notes