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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

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ASG - Part Three: You Did This

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: Yes! - anon(s)

Prompt: Bird is expecting Elvis over for a date, but his plans are different. He wants to break up, but not because he doesn’t like her. Because he loves her too much. [ Fem!OC ]

TW: Cursing, a really minor moment of assault, self-hate, ANGST

Rating: Pg-13 || Word Count: 3111

A/N: this was physically painful to write. i'm so sad now, but i'm not that evil. there will be a part 4, and i got so excited for birdie + elvis to get back together i literally already started writing it OOP

This is Part 3 of ASG. Find the rest of the series here!

🦋 mila

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She smiles to herself as she steps back to look at the positioning of the pillows. She's cleaning up around the house before Elvis arrives. They've been hanging out a lot recently and officially started dating about a month ago. Since he's opened her eyes to the possibilities in life, Bird has felt so much happier to be alive. Although, she still isn't ready to tell her father about her relationship yet, knowing that he'll probably murder her. She figures, worst case scenario, she can marry Elvis and then tell her daddy. What'll he do at that point?

As a result, she's been scheduling their dates and time together whenever she could do it secretly, usually in private places or at times when her father isn't at home. Like right now. She knows that her father will be at the Church for a few hours on Saturday night, so she's told Elvis to meet her at her house.

She's been in the living room, rearranging the furniture for the last twenty minutes. He wants everything to be perfect, even though Elvis has already been to her house more than once. Just as she reaches to move the pillow again, there's a knock on the door. She hops over to answer it and greets Elvis on the other side.

“Hi, handsome. I was wonderin when you’d get 'ere,” she says, smiling sweetly.

Her happy expression fades quickly when she realizes that Elvis isn’t sharing it. His face is stern and expressionless. He stands in the doorway, not moving, completely stationary. He looks especially handsome in a blue short-sleeve top with the buttons half undone and the sleeves rolled up onto his biceps.

“Can I come in?” he asks dryly. She nods, feeling the anxiety starting to rise in her chest.

“Is…somethin wrong, Elvis?” she asks, starting to ring out her fingers.

He says nothing, so she sits down next to him on the couch. His elbows are splayed on top of his knees and his eyes are trained on the ground as if they’re stuck in a trance. He looks pale, almost like a statue in a museum. She feels guilty and somehow wrong when she reaches out to touch his back.

“You know ya can tell me anythin, right? If somethin is wrong?” she says, gently rubbing small circles on his back.

He drags his hand over his face, tugging at the skin with his fingers. The less he speaks, the more anxious she grows.

“We…well, I…I…”

“Please spit it out, Elvis. You’re scarin me,” she says quietly.

“Lil Birdie...I don’t think we should be…together no more.”

She had a sneaking suspicion something like this was coming when he walked in the door with his fallen face. Even though she might have been aware of the possibility, nothing could have prepared her for the pain that comes with his words. She releases a breath and slowly removes her hand from his back.

“What do ya mean, exactly?” she asks, giving him the chance to change his mind.

She feels like her entire body is functioning in slow motion, unable to catch up with the meaning of his words. The panic and desperation she might be feeling are currently buried under a thick layer of doomed hope and disbelief.

“I mean we should break up.”

“Should,” she clocks the word immediately, still lingering in that state of disbelief but teetering dangerously on the edge of panic. “How bout you explain to me why exactly we should break up, Elvis?”

“I jus think that we…well, I-”

“Maybe you should actually come up with a reason or two before ya break off a relationship with another adult,” she says sharply. “Now, what I’m hearin is that you don’t actually want to break up with me but feel like you should.”

He says nothing, but his silence only confirms her theory. A moment of tense quiet passes as she tries to stay calm and figure out why he might be saying these things. Her brain starts to run through all of the things that have changed since they began seeing each other. No matter how hard she tries to think of something else, only one singular image comes to her mind: a fat, balding man with an unplaceable accent.

“Did Colonel Parker put ya up to this?” she asks, although she already knows the answer.

“No, no, no,” Elvis responds, too quickly and too passionately for her liking. “No, he didn’t have nothin to do with this. I-”

“Okay, then,” she interrupts him again, feeling angry now. “Gimme a reason.”

“What?!” he asks incredulously, throwing his hands up

“Gimme a reason,” she says in a voice that is aggressive, hard, and sharp. It's a tone that demands answers and it's gonna get them. “Gimme one real reason why we should break up.”

A few seconds of silence pass, and she can see his eyes frantically moving back and forth as he tries to come up with an answer that she'll buy. She can tell that he doesn’t have one.

“Our interests are different.”

“Lie. Next,” she cuts him off before he can even say anything else. He knows that isn’t the truth. Her anger continues to grow and her patience continues to thin.

“I’m gonna be very busy wi-”

“Not good enough. Next.”

“God dang it, Bird!” he shouts, standing up. He towers over her now, finally looking at her. She suddenly feels very small, but no less powerful with the anger coursing through her veins.

“We’re breakin up because I said so,” he says loudly.

“You ain't the boss of me. You don’t tell me what to do,” she retorts impishly, folding her arms over her chest and flopping back into the couch. She is taking a chance, her anger and desperation for the truth controlling her. They are stronger than any fear she might feel when looking at Elvis.

He clenches his jaw, scratching his fingers up through the roots of his hair and pulling on it. She blinks hard as images flash in her mind of the time they spent together at the lake when she had been the one pulling on those gorgeous black curls. She sees him hovering above her, sweating and moaning her name. But she banishes the images from her mind, trying not to let them draw her out of her anger.

“You’re startin to piss me off, Lil Birdie,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “Why can’t you just accept this and move on?”

“Because I want ya to be happy!” she finally shouts. “And I like to think that I make ya happy. And because I don’t want ya to do nothin you don’t wanna to do. If you're gonna break up with me, it better be cause you want to, not cause ya think you should or because somebody else told you to.”

“What the hell difference does it make?”

“It makes all the damn difference in the world, Elvis! Don’t even gimme that!” she's yelling at the top of her lungs now. She's also used a curse word and cursing isn't something Bird does often. “Why won’t you just admit that the Colonel is the one who wants this?”

“Because he ain’t telling me what to do! This is my career, my life, my decision. But I can’t do everythin on my own. I gotta have help, and the Colonel is the only damn person on the planet who cares nuff about me to help me.”

She buries the quick pang of pain in her chest as his words hit her ears. As silence falls, she considers not hitting back, but the anger in her chest turns to wrath and she can’t stop it.

“How dare you!” she yells. “How dare you act like you’re alone! Like nobody cares bout you, when you know damn well just how many people do. Let’s forget about how much you jus insulted me, but what about everyone else in your life, Elvis. Your friends? People who continue to support you. Your bandmates? Who’ve given up their own chances at fame to sit behind ya as you get big. Your parents? Who have literally sacrificed everythin for you. Your own mother, Elvis! Who has devoted every second of her wakin bein to give you a better life. How dare you disrespect all uh those people!”

A second of silence passes, and she can see him straining to control his anger. His fingers curl back into fists, and his nostrils flare as he heaves out angry breaths. She's only a few inches from his face, her fists now clenched, too. She should stop speaking, but the words that have been floating around in her head for the past two months are coming out, whether she wants them to or not.

“Ya know I was keepin my mouth shut, but I can’t do it no more. The Colonel is bad news. He’s a con man and a manipulator. And all he’ll do is ruin ya!”

Not a second passes before his hands fly up to wrap around her wrists. She struggles for a moment, but it’s no use. He pulls her against him, his fingers digging painfully into the skin around her bones.

“Listen here, lil one,” he growls, his accent thicker than normal,“the Colonel’s supported me so far and done nothin but help me navigate this crazy business. He’s like a second father to me. And he ain’t fuckin tellin me what to do. I’m breakin up with ya cause I want to. Cause I want to.”

She looks into his eyes. Even though his tone and mannerisms are fueled by anger, it hasn’t reached his eyes yet. They are still soft, a bright beautiful blue. He softens for a moment, his grip becoming more comfortable on her wrists.

“I’m tryin to do what’s best for my career, here, Birdie,” he continued. “You can understand that, can’t ya?”

“I understand. But I still don’t see why I can’t be a part of it. I can help ya, Elvis. I know people. I’m organized. I-”

“You just don’t fuckin get it, do ya? I am breakin up with you! It’s over!”

“Why?” she yells back immediately, angrier than ever. She hopes that her quick response will catch him off guard and make him answer honestly.

“Cause I love you, goddamnit!”

As he shouts, his grip returns stronger than ever, and she winces at the sudden discomfort. She goes silent and pale. She doesn’t know what to say or do. She'd been right. He’s answered honestly, but it isn’t the answer she has been expecting. At first, her stomach lurches with butterflies, but a horrible and overwhelming sense of dread follows it. She's suddenly very attuned to every morsel of pain coursing through her body. The one that burns her heart and the one that stings her wrists.

“People don’t break the hearts uh the ones they love,” she says softly, tears gathering in her eyes. They burn, but she refuses to let them fall. “And they don’t hurt em, neither.”

Her eyes briefly look at his white-knuckled grip on her wrists with wide eyes. His gaze follows hers and he immediately softens, the angry expression gone from his face as his fingers carefully release her wrists. She pulls them back into herself, running her fingers over the sore muscles. She also takes a step away from him, partly because of fear but mostly to make him feel guilty for hurting her. He sinks onto the couch and drops his head into his hands. A few moments of awkward silence pass, neither of them knowing how to continue.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers so quietly she barely even hears him. When you don’t move, he looks up at you. “I’m so sorry, Lil Birdie.”

She approaches, sitting down next to him on the couch. Her fingers gingerly take his hands in hers, and she brushes some hair off his forehead. He looks up at her, and his eyes are glistening with tears. The blue irises are more gray than usual. He gulps.

“I can’t put ya through this.”

“Through what, baby? Talk to me.”

“Through who I’m about to become. What, I’m about to become.”

“Elvis, honey, I don’t care bout that none,” she says, turning to place her hands on the sides of his face. “I wanna be with ya no matter who you are. Cause at the end of the day, in your heart, you will always be my Elvis.”

He shakes his head.

“Ya too naive, Lil Birdie. I know myself and I won’t be able to stop. I’ll be on stage every day, all day. As often and as much as I can. There’ll be women, so many women. And I don’t know…I can’t promise ya that I’ll always be able to…”

“Resist,” she finishes his sentence in a whisper. She retracts her hands back into her lap. Silence settles again.

“You never said it back,” he says quietly.

“What?” she asks dumbly.

“I said I loved ya and you didn’t say nothin back,” you watch his body straighten as he prepares to ask the question. “Do you…love me, at all?”

The desperation in his voice breaks her. She can’t meet his eyes and feel tears welling up in her chest again. She wants to answer, but…

Suddenly, everything everyone had told her about Elvis floods her head. She hears her father’s disciplined, harsh voice telling her — no ordering her —to find a good Christian boy and to stay away from men like Elvis. She sees all of her Church friends, laughing and using words like ‘dangerous, player, greaser’ when she tells them about Elvis. She sees her mother’s face, pale and sweat-sheened, telling her to go easy on her father. It’s just the two of you now…

By the time her crisis has passed, Elvis is standing. He's avoiding her eyes but she can still see him wipe a tear away. Everything in her body is screaming to move. To jump up, grab him, pull him to her, hug him tight, hang onto him, say something. Anything as long as it will prevent him from leaving her.

But for some inexplicable reason, she can’t bring herself to move. She's frozen.

“Well,” he says gruffly, in the same tone that her father always used to express his disappointment in her. “I guess that solves that problem. It was a pleasure knowin ya, Bird. I’m sorry for everythin.”

He starts to leave and her body finally jumpstarts. She desperately grabs onto his arm, tearing on his sleeve.

“Wait, I…” she's decided to say it, until he turns around.

When his eyes lock onto hers, and she can see the need in them, her words grow dry and evaporate. He pulls her close slowly and wraps his arms around her. One of his hands gently strokes the hair on the top of her head while the other holds firmly onto her waist. She inhales his smell, and it makes her dizzy. She shuts her eyes tightly, squeezing the tears out.

“I’ll miss you, Lil Birdie,” he whispers into her hair before he presses a kiss to her head. “So much.”

He gives her one last squeeze and then pulls away. She holds on, suddenly panicked at the thought of losing him. He grasps onto his clothes, trying to pull him back to her, but he’s too strong. He leans away from her.

“No! No, no, no, no wait!”

“I gotta leave baby,” he responds. His eyes are glistening again with tears, and his voice is cracking through the sadness. “I can’t stay.”

He gives himself one last yank and the force pulls her onto the ground. He glances back at her one last time and she sees him wince from the emotional pain before slamming the door.

The sound of the door slamming echoes throughout the house. Her eyes fall to the ground below her, tracing every thread in the carpet. She's on her hands and knees, her breath uneven and shaky. Her whole body begins to shake. Her breath quickens and she feels the pain of tears rising in her chest again. Curling her fingers into the carpet slows them but nothing is powerful enough to stop the flood that breaks through the dams of her eyes.

She makes no sound at first, the sobs wracking her body back and forth. She shakes silently on the floor, and the tears burn her dry eyes. Finally, her shaking builds up to be too much and a pained whine escapes her lips.

Again, her mind starts to flash through images. This time of Elvis. She sees him shaking and wiggling around on stage, giving her butterflies and making her laugh. Then, she sees his face light up with a smile when he realizes who she is. She sees the dark lust and the insatiable passion shining in his eyes at the lake. She sees his beautiful smile and hears his laugh. The peaceful and happy expression on his face whenever he sings. The way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he’s really, genuinely happy.

All the small things that only someone in love could notice. Each new image is like another blow to her gut. And each brings on a more violent and painful wave of sobs as she replays the last moments over and over again in her head. Somehow, she manages to get herself up the stairs and into her bedroom. Closing the door to deter her father, she climbs into bed. She doesn't bother to change her clothes and pulls the covers over her face. She's hot and her clothes are too tight and uncomfortable for sleeping in. Snot is dripping down her nose, making her lips slimy. But she doesn't do anything to stop it or clean herself up. She doesn't fight it.

She deserves it. All of the pain, the hideousness, the discomfort. She deserves to be uncomfortable, to be blubbering her eyes out. The whole ordeal is her fault. Elvis may have suggested the idea, but she had plenty of chances to change the outcome. He gave her a chance to tell him the truth and get him back. The chance to show him, to tell him that she wants him. That she loves him.

But she didn’t. She just sat there like a stupid idiot, incapable of functioning like a human person. She grips her shoulders in anger at herself and screams into her pillow. She's the only reason she's lost him.

It is your fault, she says to herself. You did this.

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#elvis #elvis 2022 #austin butler #milasfics #milaselvisfics #milasthings #milaselviscontent #elvis imagine #elvis fic #asg

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justauthoring · 3 years

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The Words I Didn’t Mean

Prompt: Hi!!!! Would you be able to write a Bokuto x reader fic where they had an argument the night before a game. The reader ends up being really late to the game, so Bokuto is worried that they want to ends things with him and won’t be showing up at all. He is in his emo mode and the whole team is trying to help. Nothing works until the reader finally shows up and they have a happy ending!! Requested by: anonymous.

A/N: It got a lil rushed at the end :( but I hope you still like it! Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x F!Reader

"He won't want to see me."

Kaori sighs, her grip on your shoulders never relenting as she continues to shove you forward. "You're being silly."

Planting the heels of your feet firmly into the ground, you effectively stop her constant pushing (pushing around the big baby known as Bokuto has definitely made you stronger then you were before), spinning around to face her. "I'm not," you huff, voice sharp, before sighing at the look she sends you.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you bite your lip, looking down at your feet. "I'm really not," you whisper, voice cracking at the end of it despite yourself. You promptly choose to ignore the pitiful look the third year manager sends you, glancing behind you at the doors to the game, where you knew Bokuto was. "He was really upset with me last night. I've never seen him that angry."

"Then, why'd you come?"

Blinking, you turn back to Kaori, eyes wide.

She just shakes her head; "you say he doesn't want to see you. Well, then, why'd you come?"

Flushing faintly, you fiddle with your fingers, biting your lip. "I dunno," you mumble, voice barely audible. "It felt weird not to come to one of his games. I've been to every one since we started dating."

Sighing, Kaori lets her arms fall to her sides, taking a small step towards you. "Look, I don't know what happened last night, but he does want to see you." And at the look of disbelief you send her, she quickly adds. "He does. He'd been a nervous wreck before the game, waiting for you to come. And when you didn't, he got even worse. Coach literally had to swap him out."

Your eyes widen even further at that. Bokuto was known for having his 'emo' modes, but it was very, very rarely ever bad enough that Coach had to take the captain off the court. He was Fukurodani's star player, and when he did get into one of his modes, he didn't take very long to give him the determination to get back into it.

But to be sent to the bench?

Maybe Bokuto was more upset then you thought he was.

"I'm not asking you to choose, I just--!"

"That's exactly what it sounds like," Bokuto interrupts, voice harsh and cutting as he glares at you. "You know how important these next few weeks are. I can't slack off on training!"

"I'm not telling you to slack off!" You all but scream back, your emotions getting the best of you as you all but forget to think rationally. "I'm just asking you that you tell me what days you're training, so I can at least be there!"

Bokuto huffs, and the action is so odd for the normally exuberant and bright-eyed boy that even in your distress state, it has your heart panging painfully.

"You'll just be a distraction."

But nothing hurts more then those words.

Lips parting, you struggle to the find the words. Bokuto has never said such hurtful words before, nor do you both ever really get into arguments. However, what has you railing is the fact that up until this point, you'd thought that your presence at both games and training had been comforting to Bokuto.

He always talked about how he loved having you there, loved being able to show off what he'd learned or perfected. He'd always told you that you being there made him feel like he was at his best.

Was that all just a lie?

“Oh,” is all you finally manage. All anger and frustration from before just dissipates with a single blink of the eye, and your heart hurts as you step back, moving to turn.

You don’t say anything. You don’t see the realization that dawns on Bokuto’s face, of what he said, of how he hurt you, and you promptly ignore the way he calls after you when you rush out of the school gym doors, wanting nothing more then to just be alone.

It’s why you came late to the game.

You spent over a half hour debating on if you should come, after having gotten ready already. When you’d finally managed to convince yourself to come, and had arrived at the gym, you’d been about to turn around and go back home when Kaori had found you.

Bokuto had told you you were a distraction. So, you hardly doubt he’d want you at one of the most important games of the season.

Still, you couldn’t deny that it hurt your heart a little at the thought of not being there for him.

“Just... Just please, go in and you’ll see.”

Turning back to Kaori, you sigh. “Fine.”

So, mustering up all your courage and strength, you make your way towards the gym, this time of your own free will, pushing the doors open with a sharp inhale. The game is in motion when you walk in, the sounds of cheering and the volleyball being smacked around the first thing you hear. As you walk past the benches, Kaori right behind you, you’re steered towards Fukurodani’s side.

You’re not allowed onto the court, but Kaori is quick to rush towards the coaches and Bokuto.

You frown when you see him; his back is turned to you, but you notice the specific notions and features that you tell you everything Kaori had said was true. His back is slouched, and his arms hang pitifully by his sides. His hair drops at the edges, turning downwards, and even though you can’t see his face, you can imagine the pout and the disappointed look in his eyes.

Kaori reaches him, and you can’t hear what she’s saying, but she’s rapidly poking him on the shoulders, until he finally looks up at her and then in the direction she points; you.

You inhale sharply when his eyes meet yours, and you offer a nervous smile, terrified that he’ll be upset that you’re here. Or worse, he’ll be angry. The two of you never made up from the night before, what if you were the absolute last person he wanted to see right now?

Not to mention, he’d made it perfectly clear; you were a distraction.

But, instead, his eyes brighten, and he sits up and there’s an almost sparkle that radiates around him as a bright grin crosses his features. He looks ecstatic, and almost like he wants to bolt from his spot on the bench next to the coach to you, but Kaori holds him firm in the spot, whispering something to him.

You glance at the score board, wincing when you realize the opposite team was about to take the second set and win the game.

Turning back to Bokuto, you realize he’s standing and the coach is debriefing him; which means he’s going back onto the court. Swallowing thickly, you move to find a seat, easily finding one near the front, close to Fukurodani’s side of the court. And the minute you sit, Bokuto’s already looking at you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Mustering up a smile, you nod at him, giving him a thumbs up.

They take the second set, and then, the third.

Everybody cheering for Fukurodani lets out a collective sigh of relief, and even though you hadn’t been there to see it; from what you’d gathered the first half of the game had been stressful to say the least. Everyone was in shock to see Fukurodani’s star ace so out of sorts and not on his a-game which left you feeling a little guilty.

What were you suppose to think, though? After what Bokuto had said to you?

But, when the games over, and you’re left wondering if you should approach Bokuto or just go home; you’re almost completely knocked off your feet by the large body that comes flying at you. Your name leaves Bokuto’s lips in a cry and suddenly he’s engulfing you completely, pulling you close against you and practically leaving you no breathing room.

“I didn’t mean it,” he all but spits out, as if rushed for you to understand. “What I said,” Bokuto pulls back, holding you tight by the shoulders as he looks pleadingly at you. “Please, I didn’t mean it. Any of it. I was just frustrated with it all and nervous for this game and I wasn’t thinking. And I hurt you. I really hurt you, and when you left last night, I didn’t know if I should’ve gone after you. But I thought, I should let you have your space and then you weren’t here--

“Ko. Ko!” You call, interrupting him as you desperately shake your head. He falls silent to a halt, and your hands fall on his chest, gripping his admittedly sweaty jersey inbetween your fingers, shaking your head. “It’s okay,” you whisper, meeting his gaze. “I’m sorry too. I... I wasn’t being fair.”

“No,” he adamantly shakes his head. “You were just trying to be there for me, and I pushed you aside. I’m sorry. And Y/N?”

Gently tipping your gaze up at him, Bokuto smiles down at you.

“You’re not a distraction. You never could be. You make me a better player, you help me do better. I need you.”

And honestly, that was all you wanted to hear.

Eyes watering slightly, you lick your lips; “you mean it?”

“Yes,” he whispers, “a million times over.”

Leaning into him, you let out a sigh of relief; “thank god,” you let out shakily. “Because I love coming to your training and games, I love being there for you, even if I can’t actually be with you. Just watching is enough for me.”

Squeezing you tightly, Bokuto nods; “it’s more then enough.”

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selinakidreams · 3 years

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here’s a lil something for baku (and you) to enjoy on his birthday <3 all apart of the bakugo birthday bash hosted by the lovely @jodrawssmut @phasmwrites @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda @lady-bakuhoe @ramen-rambles ! !! thank you guys so much for letting me be apart of this <3

pairing: (established relationship) QUIRKLESS AU kiribaku x fem! reader

word count: 3k+

warnings: alcohol consumption but sober sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of throat fucking, mentions of spit roasting, lots of mentions of spit <3 (and exactly one spit into a mouth), very light degradation, praise

a/n: this is my first time writing with three characters kdjdkdk it’s way out of my comfort zone and I only had 6 days to write it,, but I did it!! trust me I wanted to write more but I actually wanted to make it to baku’s birthday so !! don’t be mad at the endiiiiiiinnnngggg <3

The jazz wafted throughout the empty bar; your silk dress falling from the edge of your seat. It has been a slow night for the bar. You leaned your head into your hand, elbow keeping you sturdy as you swirled the drink around it’s glass cup.

Your friend's party became a bit too feral for your taste, but you kept your word and stayed as long as you could for the sole purpose of seeing her smile, but then they showed up and you saw yourself out.

The dim lighting made your eyes droopy with no action to keep your brain going, so you take another swig of your drink before swiveling in your chair to face the other side of the bar.

Floor to ceiling windows greeted you, giving you the perfect overlook to the twinkling city lights below. It was incredible how your friend could afford a room in this hotel for her party.

You noticed a movement in the corner of your eye; someone had entered the bar.

You turn back to face all the expensive drinks displayed on the shelf, the perfect excuse to catch a quick glimpse at him. The contrast of his hair against everything else in the room almost made your eyes pop out of their sockets.

Platinum blonde hair tufted out like an explosion, a satin red shirt that danced with the warm light of the room, black slacks and from what you could tell, some expensive ass shoes. Too dressy just to be here for some drinks.

Wanting to see more but not willing to fully stare at the man, you signed and waited until it seemed like he got settled on the bar stool before saying, “Is it your party that’s on this floor? It seems like quite the... experience.”

Your voice came out smooth and velvety to bakugo’s ears, not that he would ever admit it. He scoffed before taking a second to look at the stranger who was daring to talk to him. His first thought settled in his mind and accepted it, almost prompting for silence- waiting to see if you would push to talk to him again.

From what you could tell, he was scanning you up and down. He opened his mouth to say something; his pink plush lips looking extremely inviting as they began to mouth something.

No sound came out for the next few seconds, showing he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He closed his mouth and took out a phone from his pocket, the screen illuminated his face as he began typing something out.

With this newfound light, his features became even more alluring- which couldn't be said for most people. Perfect porcelain skin, his profile pointed and devilishly handsome.

He’s well aware that he still held your attention, so when he slid his phone back in his pocket, he responded to your previous question, “yea, that’s the one. I’d rather stick it out instead of hearing them complain about me not going to my own party for the rest of the week.”

By the end of his sentence, he had a glass of something amber in his hand that seemed to look a lot like whiskey. He didn’t spare you another glance but you could tell he expected to hear a response.

You hummed, slightly nodding your head, “The party I had to go to is upstairs and it’s… a lot. They're all just talking about expensive this and designer that and I couldn't listen to another word so I had to get out of there…” you trailed off at his silence. Noting that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, you introduced yourself in hopes to continue interacting with him. You knew his type, and you knew in some way, he was going to surprise you.

“Bakugo Katsuki.” He said in turn.

You slowly nodded before posing another question.

“So Bakugo, not really a party goer?” You attempt to ask, only to get a huff in return.

“not one for small talk either, i see?” You add at the end.

Another few quiet moments go by before he responds

“If I was a party goer, I’d be at my own party wouldn’t I?” He quipped back and your eyebrows shot up as you raised your hands in defense.

“Well hey, I dunno ! For all I know you could have had a really rough night and this specific bar could be your saving grace. Could possibly use this night to drown your sorrows away behind a whole bottle of what… whiskey?” You say, ushering to his drink before turning to face your own, knowing he probably didn’t like being pegged as such.

“but you wouldn’t do that. You’re a strong man who knows what to do when things get bad, huh?” you continue, sprinkling praise to his dignity. He seemed like the type to prioritize that.

He didn’t do or say much in terms of a response but a small smile grew on your lips seeing how his body suddenly released a bit of the physical tension that was winding up.

You moved a few seats closer to him. If he didn’t like it, he hadn’t said anything.

“So-'' Interrupted before you could continue the line of questions, Bakugo surprised you by asking, “you think you’re better than your friends? Leaving them and comin’ here to drink alone?” his voice coming out gruff and low.

“No, not one bit. I was the one who planned the whole thing for my friend, it’s just unfortunate that she had to invite all those people who aren’t all that nice to her. I can’t stand them. I’ve told them off more than I can count, but they just brush me off. A group of bullies is one thing, but a group of people who pretends to be friends with you then talks behind your back is another.``

Bakugo was quiet, not by astonishment or anger; he seemed to be expressionless as he piped up, “fake people are some of the uglies nobodies out there.”

You turn to look at him before sipping your drink and moving a seat closer. This time Bakugo glanced your way but continued to stay silent.

“You ever beat someone up?” you ask, resting your chin on your palm, tilting your head towards him.

Your second surprise that night, he chuckled. It was soft, the complete opposite to the demeanor he'd been holding.

“Why? You want me to go in there and beat a few of those assholes up?” his eyes were relaxed by this point, no longer sharp and heavily guarded.

“Only because they don't believe I'm intimidating enough.”

“Maybe because you're not.”

You fake gasped, bringing your other hand up to your heart. “Excuse me sir but I'll have you know that I can be quite the fighter.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You hadn’t realized you got so close to Bakugo until you heard the footsteps nearing you both. When a handsome voice called out bakugo’s name, you slightly jumped. Putting as much space between the two of you as possible, you looked to the source of the voice.

Handsome would be an understatement.

With red bangs that framed his sharp toothy smile perfectly and the rest of his hair tied back in a messy ponytail, this man looked a bit taller than Bakugo with a much warmer aura... but radiated the same type of... manliness.

“Bakugo, I just got your text- Mina has been dragging me everywhere to make sure your party’s going well. Is this her?” the handsome man asked, a slight indistinguishable gleam flashes in his eye when he looks over to you.

“Yeah, ‘nd i wanna leave now.” he almost pouted before looking over to you.

“You comin’?”

Your gaze snapped between the two men, only slightly putting two and two together.

Red hair spoke up, “He probably didn't explain it well but I'm his boyfriend, Kirishima Eijiro!” he held out his hand cheerfully, listening to your introduction.

“Not to sound too forward or to make you uncomfortable... but do you wanna come home with us? He texted me earlier saying that there was this hottie in a silk dress and… well…” he trailed off licking his bottom lip as his wandering gaze slowly shifted hungrier, “he wasn't kidding.”

There was a lot happening at once but all that you were thinking was that these two hot men wanted you, and the happy buzz that was coursing through your system couldnt object the offer, so with a quick nod of your head, you were handed a water bottle, guided off of the stool, and into the back of the next taxi they could hail.

The ride was filled with wandering hands and mischievous looks. Kirishima was whispering naughty promises in Bakugo’s ear that you couldn't quite hear, while your attention focused on the big palm that was making its way to the most heated part of your body. The quick inhales that the blonde took went straight to your core, making you incredibly excited for what the night had to offer.

As soon as the door swung open, lips were on lips and clothes were coming off. The rush to get to the bedroom was heated and messy but once you all entered the room, there was an intense shift that even you couldn't predict.

Kirishima spoke first, “So what does my birthday boy want? Does he want to fuck or be fucked?”

With a suck at his teeth, Bakugo knew if he didn’t give an answer soon he’d be met with-

“Better hurry up handsome, or I might just choose for you…” Kirishima hummed, bright crimson eyes hopping on over to meet your gaze, “better yet…”

He was by your side in mere seconds. His huge figure towering over yours, you almost flinched when his bulky fingers grazed up your arm.

“What if you chose for him?” He purred in your ear loud enough so Bakugo’s ruby eyes found yours. Your name rolled off the red-haired man’s tongue like sweet honey, “go ahead, what do you think he would want more?”

Your gaze flickered between them, you couldn’t tell one or the other’s preferences but if they wanted to use you, they could.

“How about… Eijiro… you could fuck my throat and Katsuki… could fuck whatever hole he wants?” You ask, the question raising an octave out of uncertainty.

Kirishima raises an eyebrow towards the man of the hour, slightly amused and completely aroused.

Bakugo is already smirking,“Atta girl, knows exactly what to say.”

Kirishima starts to kiss your neck as Bakugo stands in front of you, occupying your lips for the first time that night.

With one arm wrapped around your waist, he seemed to have rubbed on his boyfriend's bulge before reaching for the zipper of your dress. In turn, the feeling of the Eijiro’s bulge humped your back.

Whether it was your dress hitting the floor or Katsuki’s tongue slipping in your mouth didn't matter, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, causing Kirishima to chuckle and whisper, “get on the bed, princess.” while Bakugo pulls away from you, a string of spit keeps you connected.

With your gaze lustly hazy, you dreamily make your way to the bed, but not without a little show. Before splaying yourself out on the mattress, you stretch out- almost in the child's pose of yoga except you add a deep arch in your back for the sole purpose of showing off your pretty seamless thong.

As you reposition yourself, you glance over to the side to find that both men are now only in restricting briefs, eyes glued to your figure, both palming themselves over their boxers.

Eyes half massed and back flat on the bed, you begin to pout, feeling almost bare without anyone’s hands on you.

As if on cue, they began to make their way over to you, looking oh so hungry.

You immediately sat up and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, pulsating at the prospect of having two seemingly thick dicks at once… but they were still in their boxers. Why?

“Ya have to ask nicely in order to get a treat, you ungrateful slut.” Bakugo growled before taking your jaw in his hand, squishing your cheeks with his fingers.

“Better yet, beg.” he said with a coldness that heated your core and had your eyes going wide.

Whimpering when he let go, you kept your innocent doe eyes as two sets of starved eyes stared down at you.

“W-wanna get fucked, please. Wanna feel both of you everywhere…” you say as you reach both hands out to palm the silhouette of their bulges. “Please…?”

There was a “christ” that was muttered out before you were pushed back on the bed by Bakugo, then kirishima manhandled you so that your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, your head mostly hanging off.

Even in the midst of the binding tension, Kirishima didn't hesitate to instruct Bakugo to put a pillow under your hips, the blonde eagerly following through with the demand.

“How’dyou want Katsuki to prep you, baby? He’s skillful in every sense but he really enjoys using his mouth.”

The bed shifted and before you could string a thought together, you looked down and lost all ability to think. The sight in front of you was downright sinful. A smirk was pulling at the left corner of his lips as he sunk closer to your clothed pussy, his red gaze now a deep wicked crimson as he watched for your reaction.

You didn't have much time to analyze before a thick hand laced through your hair and ushered your view back to the red head’s now exposed cock. You gulped.

Not incredibly long, a moderate size but with a juicy girth, Kirishima’s cock had a thick vein trailing up his underside.

If you could make heart eyes, you're sure that you'd be doing them by now.

Focused on paying attention to his pretty pink weeping tip, you felt your panties being pushed to the side. As tempting as it was to look down, you kept your sights set on the task at hand. Licking and kissing his cock, mixing your saliva with his precum, you earned a guttural groan from the big man above you, encouraging you to do more, please him more- until a warm muscle was met with your sopping core, causing a high gasp of a vibration to hit Kirishima’s head.

Your mind stopped reeling for a second- it stopped doing anything to be frank. Your hips mindlessly thrust up in attempts to get more of Bakugo’s mouth. He chuckled against you in response.

Moans bounced off the walls the deeper you guys got with each arousing movement; slurps coming from your’s and Bakugo’s mouth were the loudest noises in the room- that was until you moved down to pay the much needed attention to Kirishima’s balls. He couldn't seem to take it when you began sucking and fondling, moaning about how full he looked. He let out an obscene whine that you couldn’t believe came from him but when Bakugo pulled his lips from around your clit, you followed the noise with a similar one.

Unlike Kirishima who had stayed still, you tried to push Bakugo’s face back down out of lack of patience. Somewhere along the lines, the dominating rolls have switched, but you couldn't really find it in yourself to trace back to when that happened.

“You really are a fighter, huh?” he chuckled out before adding, “quit whining shitty hair, you’ll get to fuck her throat once I’m done eating.”

And with that, he dove right back in, causing you to clench around nothing yet and arch your back to get impossibly closer. In turn, your gaze caught the big desperate pleading eyes looking down at you, nearly begging you to do something...

You were so dizzy with pleasure that you murmured a mindless, “I didn't forget about you Eijiro.”, before using your hands to guide his cockhead back into your mouth to coat it in your saliva then pulling off and spreading it down the rest of his length. He bit his lip and let out a cute “mmph!”, which went straight to your abused core. Wanting to hear more, you began to pump his shaft with your messy fist.

With everything going on, you didn’t realize how built up you were. At an astounding rate, your climax crashed over you, making you shriek against Kirishima's dick as you attempted to cage Bakugo’s head in with your thighs. What pushed you even further was the death grip Katsuki had on your thighs and the sinful sounds he was making while lapping away at your juices.

Your hands shot from Kirishima’s cock down to grip Bakugo’s hair, freeing your mouth to pant out breathy praises and a whiney “Katsuki!”.

“Fuck,” Bakugo groaned as he came up from your pelvis once you’ve relaxed, whipping your juices from off of his chin with the back of his hand.

“Kiri, c’mere, you gotta try this,” he said before pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss over your slumped body. Watching their lips meet and seeing Kirishima’s tongue slip into his lover’s mouth sent a dull throb to your core, even moreso when Kirishima sighed into the kiss while his cock twitched upwards, close to your face.

When they pulled away, Bakugo gave one more little peck to Kirishima before looking down at you with a mischievous grin. You mentally gather yourself and sit up, already ready to be told what to do next.

“Open up, sweet cheeks.”

You did as you were told with your tongue out on display, unintentionally closing your eyes as a sweet little “aaah” came out on instinct.

The spit hit your tongue dead on and you had to refrain from automatically swallowing.

A low whisper about how good you were to Katsuki pulled him out of his daze, his eyes darting away from the new wetness on your tongue.

“Swallow, slut.” and so you did.

“You're right Kiri, she is such a good girl… Are you ready to get fucked stupid as your prize?” was the last thing you remember before both of them did exactly that.

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freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

Stupid//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Underaged drinking, drunk characters, Fred has a problem in his pants, undressing someone, one lil dirty joke, one horrible dad joke

Summary: Y/N decides to let loose one night at a Gryffindor party, making a slightly less drunk Fred resort to being her babysitter and hearing some confessions that sober Y/N would never dare say.

Prompts: Getting Drunk Together with dialogue prompts “I think I forgot how to breath,” and “were you dreaming of me again?”

Word Count: 1.8k just a lil shorty

A/N: Day 4 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge -- WAIT GUYS THIS ONE’S ACTUALLY LIKE ONE OF MY FAVS --

“Freddie catch me!” You launched yourself off the back of the velvet couch in the Gryffindor Common Room, arms and legs spread wide like you were a flying squirrel. Fred, who had his back turned to your antics, saw you right before your feet left the couch and he dove frantically toward you, catching you right before you would’ve broken your nose on the floor. “Again!”

Fred chuckled and continued to hold you much to your dismay. “I need to keep a better eye on you, don’t I?”

“Put me down!” you said, squirming in his hold. Fred decided to give you what you wanted, so he placed you down on the couch. And then he sat right on top of you.

“Fred!” Your voice was muffled by his jumper, which you were now trying to spit out of your mouth. “Let me out, let me out you big stupid.”

“Oh I’m the big stupid?” he asked mockingly. “You almost just killed yourself for the third time tonight. I knew letting you get this wasted was a dumb idea.”

“T’was also your dumb idea,” you said, still trying to push him off of you to no avail.

Fred glanced around the common room at who was still left. After the Quidditch match earlier and a great win for Gryffindor, Fred and George had thrown the best party that Hogwarts had ever seen, with music and food and dancing. And, of course, lots and lots of firewhisky.

Most of the festivities had died down about an hour ago and only a handful of people remained downstairs, most either too wasted to move or babysitting those who were too wasted to move. Fred got the honor of being one of those babysitters.

He realized that he had probably pinned you down for long enough and he moved to let you have your space. You sat up gasping for air, wrapping your hands around your neck and leaning from side to side.

“I think I forgot how to breathe.”

Fred rolled his eyes and moved closer to you, grabbing your hands in his and removing them from your neck, placing them on your lap instead.

“C’mon, stupid, it’s not that hard. Breathe in. Breathe out.”

You tried to do what he said but ended up doubling over in a coughing fit, small tufts from his jumper coming out of your mouth.

“Bloody hell, did you inhale my jumper?!”

You giggled bashfully before sticking almost your entire hand in your mouth, pulling out a long thread and gagging in the process.

“You’re disgusting,” he said, grabbing a nearby napkin to clean off your spit-covered hand.

You stuck out your hand as if going in for a handshake. “Hi disgusting, I’m dad.”

“That’s not even how that joke works, dummy.” He wiped you down, grimacing as some of the spit got on his hand. Fred was not sober enough to deal with this. Earlier, when you had told him you’d never really been drunk before, only tipsy, Fred thought that tonight would be the perfect night to have you let loose if you wanted to. He promised he’d watch you and take care of his friend, which is why you finally let yourself go and had a wild time. Unfortunately, Fred had never been the responsible one before and you were good at being sneaky, so you had a lot more alcohol than he would have liked.

His head buzzed with the firewhisky burning inside him, wishing he would’ve decided to stay sober instead of taking a handful of shots. But you just looked like you were having so much fun out there on the dance floor and he figured a few wouldn’t hurt. Now the both of you were drunk and only one of you knew how to handle their alcohol. The other now had their head laying in their best friend’s crotch.

“Y/N!” he hissed, hoping no one was looking at the two of you, but they were all either too drunk or too distracted to notice. “Get up, what is your head doing down there?”

“You’re soft,” you said, snuggling into his lower half.

He quickly lifted your head and put it on a pillow, grabbing another to hide a growing problem where your nose had just been. “Yeah, that’s definitely not true,” he said, laughing quietly at his own joke. He shifted for a few seconds before deeming it ok for him to stand.

It was getting late, and Fred knew that you were already going to have a rough morning, so he’d better get you to bed as quickly as possible.

“Alright, love, let’s--”

He cut himself off when he looked back down at you lying on the couch, completely asleep. He sighed but smiled warmly, wondering where all of the energy you had minutes ago just went. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”

He reached down to pick you up, carrying you bridal style to your prefect dorm. He walked ever-so-slowly, stumbling a bit from his intoxication but determined to make sure you got back safe. After effectively ascending the stairs (thank Godric he and George had found a way past the no boys allowed charm years ago) and getting to your private room, he laid you down gently and grabbed a t-shirt and shorts for you to change into.

He was crouched down and digging through your drawers when he heard your small voice whisper. “Freddie, I love you Freddie.”

He grabbed the clothes and sat next to you, seeing that you were still asleep. “Hey,” he said softly, shaking you awake. You swatted him away a few times before allowing yourself to open your eyes.

“Were you dreaming of me again?” he teased. He grabbed you under your armpits and lifted your torso up, gesturing for you to put your hands in the air. You did, using all of your strength to keep you from toppling over.

“Mhmm,” you said. “I was dreaming of you and me, and how much I love you.”

You elongated the word love, saying it in a singsong voice and bringing a smile to Fred’s face as he lifted your old shirt over your head. “I love you too, stupid, your my bestest friend.”

All of a sudden you were shaking your head, looking annoyed and angry. “No, I love you. Like love love.”

“Uh huh,” Fred replied, brain not working fast enough to catch onto what you meant. “I love love you too. Now help me get this shirt on.”

You hphmed crossly and pulled the shirt over your head. “You’re the stupid, Mr. Big Stupid. I love love love you. In my dream, you were there and you kissed me! Like this.”

You leaned forward and planted a big sloppy kiss onto Fred’s lips, immediately slumping forward into his shoulder. It took him a couple of seconds to realize what had just happened, but before he could say anything you started talking again.

“You kissed me, then you told me how you loved me too, and how I was your favorite person in the whole wide world, even more than Georgie!” You suddenly gasped, covering your mouth with your hand. “Don’t tell Georgie I said that, I love him so much, he can’t know that I want you to love me more than him. Don’t tell, ok?” You seemed as though you were going to cry from what you had just confessed to Fred.

“I won’t, I won’t, I pinky swear,” Fred said quickly, thrusting his pinky into your face. You frown washed away and was replaced with a gleeful smile as you shook his pinky, sealing your promise.

“Good, I don’t want George to hate us.”

Fred pulled you into his arms and stood you up slowly, grabbing the shorts he had picked out for you. “Ok, can you take your shorts off for me please? You need to put on new ones.”

Nodding, you reached for the pants but tried to put them on over the skirt you were already wearing.

“No no no, not like that.” Fred sighed in exasperation and decided that had had to help you with this too. “Ok hold still.”

He sunk to his knees in front of you, one hand firm on your waist in order to keep you from falling. Trying to avoid looking as much as possible, Fred fumbled around the waistband of your skirt and pulled it down, leaving you standing in only your shirt and panties. He tried not to look, but his drunk brain was making it really hard for him to control his eyes. He had you step forward into the pant legs and pulled them up nice and snug around your waist, hoping he hadn’t done anything that he shouldn’t have during the encounter.

“Thanks love,” you slurred, falling immediately back onto the bed. “Wanna kiss me again? Like you did in my dream?”

Fred plopped down next to you, letting his fingers play with your hair as you cuddled up on your side. “Yeah, I do. But not tonight, ok? We’re both a little crazy tonight aren’t we?”

“We’re both a little stupid”

“No, we’re big stupids. Mr. and Mrs. Big Stupid.”

You laughed loudly rolling over a few times and almost falling off the bed before Fred caught you. “I wanna be your Mrs. Can I be your Mrs., Freddie? Pretty pretty please?”

He snickered, pulling the blanket up over the both of you. Staying the night would probably be for the best, especially since you didn’t have anyone else in the dorm to take care of you. “Of course, you’ll be Mrs. Freddie Big Stupid, how does that sound.”

You clapped your hands smiling into your pillow. “I’m gonna marry you. And we’re gonna have the biggest bestest wedding ever. And everyone’s gonna be there. Oh no, but we have to go on a date first. We’ve never been on a date.” You pouted.

Fred put a finger to his chin, thinking. “How about tomorrow night we go on a date. I can take you on a beautiful picnic and we’ll watch the sun set and then you can kiss me again like you did tonight. Sound good stupid?”

“Hmm,” you said, voice trailing off as sleep threatened to overtake you again. “That sounds perfect.”

Fred bit his lip, trying to hold back a loud whoop of joy. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back into him.

“Freddie?” you asked quietly. “Am I gonna remember this tomorrow?”

He laughed and nuzzled his head into your hair, happier than he had been in a long long time. “Probably not. But I will, and I’ll make sure to remind you.”

“Okie dokie, g’night Big Stupid.”

“G’night Big Stupid. See you in the morning.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasleyimagine #fred weasley #fredweasley #fred #fred weasley x reader #fred x reader #getting drunk together #freddie

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missmorosis · 3 years

Text

how to sleep: a step-by-step guide by bokuto koutarou

part of my weeklong shopping spree! (one 500+ word drabble a day!!)

request from MY BELOVED @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner HEHEHE ILY SORRY I CHANGED UP THE PROMPT A LIL

pairing: bokuto x reader genre: fluff!! w/c: 0.5k! warnings: none!! a/n: SDFSDJK POSTED 3 MINUTES BEFORE THE DAY ENDS- AAHH I DIDNT MISS THE LAST DAY HEHEHE- sorry if its a bit rushed I WANTED TO MEET THE DEADLINE/KEEP THE WEEKLY STREAK

step 1) getting you to sleep in the first place

Bokuto checked the time: the clock on the wall flashed 11:32pm back at him, meaning it was time for him to bully you into sleeping. He spotted you hard at work on your desk, and from the dark circles around your eyes, he could tell that you needed rest. Luckily for you, he was about to force you into bed, using the secret weapon: cuddles.

“Y/N!” He peppered your face with kisses from behind, his arms wrapped around your shoulders. You looked back at him with a fond, but sleepy, smile.

“Hey, Kou,” you said, kissing him back softly.

“It’s time for bed,” he muttered into your ears, and you sighed. He never failed to remind you before it got too late: you always found yourself losing track of time, but Bokuto was there to make sure you got a somewhat healthy sleep schedule.

“Bo-”

“No buts. C’mere.” You knew there was no arguing with your boyfriend, so you made grabby hands at him. He pulled you out of your chair, promptly swinging you into his arms. He then proceeded to lift you up, bridal style, and you giggled, leaning further onto his chest.

step 2) washing up

“Alright, let’s get washed up!” Bokuto handed you your toothbrush, and you smiled at him. The two of you made eye contact with one another in the mirror, causing you both to look away with a slight blush.

Even though he was your boyfriend, he still got you flustered. You began the two-minute countdown, and the two of you brushed in sync, exchanging small grins in between.

“So, ho wash your day?” Bokuto asked, with his mouth full of bubbly toothpaste. You spit out yours into the sink before responding.

“It was okay! My teacher’s been getting on my nerves, though. Assignments back to back- I can never catch a break.” You sighed before beginning to brush again. He frowned.

“You know, you should rest from time to time... at least you’re going to bed now!” You nodded.

Once the two of you had your teeth all clean, it was time to wash your face.

“Stay still-” he muttered, rubbing the foam cleanser all over your face.

“Bo- I can do it myself,” you laughed, pulling away, but he just pulled you closer.

step 3) night time cuddles!!

“Y/N!” Bokuto tumbled into the bed, pulling you down with him.

“Koutarou!” you mimicked, giggling. He reached out his arm, which you used as your personal pillow.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbled, stroking your hair lovingly. His amber-colored eyes looked back at you, and you felt your heart flutter.

“You’re prettier,” you cooed, and he shook his head.

“Impossible.”

He watched as you slowly drifted to sleep: he could only relax when he saw that you were relaxed.

He admired how beautiful you were, long after you went to sleep. He loved how peaceful you looked, and your restful face was the last thing he saw before he too fell asleep.

tags!! @floralkawa @ray-ofmoonlight @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @idontlikeyourjob @sushijimawakatoshi @bokutsumie @felixsamour @kozu-zumi @tsumushima-deactivated20210501 @jesssobs @nachotrash @tsukkisberry @crystal-lilac @hannas16 @cherriesradio

#hqcorenet #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #bokuto koutarou x you #bokuto koutarou x y/n #bokuto koutarou x reader #haikyuu fluff #bokuto koutarou fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction

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liaarchived · 3 years

Note

Hi fellow Taurus bestie…I’m a long time reader and first time anon 🙈 so I got this idea and I had to share incase you wanna write about it 👀 anyways…I was listening to Slow Down by Chase Atlantic and this time the lyric “she said fuck me like I’m famous, I said oh-kay” stuck out to me and I was like wait a min 🤔✋🏼 what if there was a fic where the guy (I thought of Bakugo/Kuroo/Iwaizumi 🙈🙈🙈) was a singer and the reader is his crush/new gf…?? Anyways!! They’re getting ‘into it’ after a show/concert and she’s like… “if you can fuck as good as you sing, show me.” And he’s like bet and he wrecks her, breaks her back and all that

Anyways lemme know whatcha think bestie…🙈 I was kinda nervous to send this but I was like fuck it lemme do it before I forget and yeah…

A/N: Taurus Bestie🥺 You’re brain is immaculate please. Don’t ever hesitate to send me asks! I love interacting with y’all, I’m just not very good at initiating :(( I love this idea so much and I really thought it fit Iwaizumi well so I hope you enjoy!

Prompt: “If you can fuck as good as you can sing, show me.”

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Iwaizumi x fem!reader

Warnings: spit, oral (reader receiving), daddy kink, impact play, degradation, praising, swearing, hair pulling, choking, creampie, breeding if you squint, heavily unedited bc I hate editing my own smut😔✊🏼

Word count: 2.43k

You and Iwaizumi had been friends since high school, but even so, you had never been to one of his band’s shows before. Sure you had heard him sing many times and you knew he was talented, but this experience, getting to watch him from a VIP box while hundreds of thousands of people were cheering for him and singing along to his music? It was absolutely surreal. You admired how Iwaizumi seemed to belong on that stage.

However, the scene of Iwaizumi singing his heart out was doing things to you. Tonight was the last show of his tour, after that he was planning to go on hiatus for a few months before going back to the studio with his band. This was it. You had backstage privileges, courtesy of the singer himself, and you planned on making your move tonight. When Iwa left for his tour at the beginning of the year you were faced with some surprising feelings.

You realized you missed him more than just a friend should…

The set ended and the crowd was still going wild. You make your way backstage as the band plays a final encore song. When Iwaizumi emerges from the stage, sweat gleaming off of his ink littered muscles you practically salvate at the image. The lead singer immediately sets his eyes on you and makes a beeline towards you.

Iwaizumi doesn’t give you a chance to say anything. It had been over a year since he had last seen you in person and his adrenaline was running high. It was now or never. So he scooped you into his arms and crashed his lips to yours. As soon as the shock passes, you reciprocate his extremely passionate kiss.

Iwaizumi hums in approval at your quick submission and bites your lower lip before pulling away, letting a string of saliva form keep the two of you connected before it snaps.

“Shit, Yn. You know how long I’ve wanted to do that. I missed you so much it was maddening.” He lays his sweaty forehead on yours, pupils blown wide with adrenaline and lust.

You giggle at his declaration. “Missed you too, Haji. Where are you staying?”

A deep chuckle escapes his swollen lips. “At a hotel, Princess. Why?”

“Want you to show me if you can fuck me as good as you can sing.” You grin devilishly and Iwa returns the expression.

The musician opens his mouth to say something but is cut off by one of his band members who has already been eyeing you. “Hey, Iwa! Ya coming to the after party or what?”

Iwaizumi slings his arm over you. “Nah, man. Go on ahead without me. I got a different party to attend.”

The band member chuckles and shakes his head before waving and taking his exit.

You two lead by example and take your own exit.

The second the two of you make it to Iwa’s room, he has you pressed against the wall with his lips attached to yours. His tongue has already made it past your lips, exploring the cavern of your mouth, occasionally dancing with yours. You moan into his mouth, and as much as you don’t want to, you have to pull away for air.

Iwaizumi takes this opportunity to trail kisses along your jaw and down your neck. His hands, which were previously holding onto your hips in a bruising grip, move up your torso under your shirt. He makes a delighted chuckle when he notices that you're not wearing a bra.

“Hmm not wearing anything underneath your shirt to my show? Is that why your tits looked absolutely delectable bouncing around while you danced during the concert, huh?”

You whine as his hands grope at your chest and tweak your nipples. “Hah-fuck- wanted you to have something to look at, Haji-“

Iwaizumi cuts you off with a low growl and a particularly pleasing pinch of the nipples. “No. I’m not Haji right now, Princess. Say it.”

You let out a moan at the singer’s insinuation. “Wanted you t-to have something to look at, Daddy.”

“Mmm well you certainly didn’t disappoint, Princess. Had a hard time keeping my eyes off of you.” Iwa chuckles while he lowers himself down to his knees. “Between how cute your ass looks in this short little skirt of yours and your tits I almost lost my damn mind. Messed up a few lyrics thanks to you, Princess.”

You whimper as the singer nips and sucks on your inner thighs. “Fuck- Daddy… Wanted your attention. Didn’t mean to distract you.”

Iwaizumi’s lips are everywhere but where you need him most. He continues to kiss your thighs and lick them and give the occasional bite and suck combo. Your hands find their way to his sweat damp hair and tug, earning a groan and particularly harsh bite from the man below you. You whimper at the singer’s rough ministrations. Your head is thrown back on the wall behind you as Iwaizumi inches closer to where you want him.

“Daddy, please~” You tug on his hair eliciting another groan.

Iwa looks up at you in amusement. “Hmm what do you want, Princess? Gotta use your words, Pretty Baby.”

You huff in frustration but indulge him anyway. “Need your mouth and tongue, please~”

A chuckle can be heard but you’re no longer looking at Iwaizumi. “I’m giving you my mouth and tongue aren’t I. Princess? Is it that you need them somewhere specifically?” Iwa kisses your lower pelvis, just above your clothed clit.

“I- hah- Fuck, Daddy need your mouth and tongue and fingers in my pussy and on my clit. Please, please, please~ Need you s’ ba- ngh~”

Iwa cuts you off by the sting of him ripping your panties apart and diving his tongue into your drooling cunt. The slurping noises he’s making are obscene but you don’t have time to be embarrassed because at that very moment the singer replaced his tongue with two fingers and reattached his mouth to your clit. You moan and tug harshly on his hair, Iwa lets out his own moan that reverberates throughout your entire being.

“Mmh- Fuck~ feels so good, Daddy. S’ much better than my own fingers- Oh my- fu- fuck right there please keep touching me right there, Daddy…”

You're lost in your own pleasure and you don’t even notice the way Iwaizumi is watching you. His eyes gleaming with pride and lust at the thought of you feeling so good because of him. He can feel himself growing uncomfortably hard but ignores the nagging heat pooling in his lower abdomen. His focus solely on making you cum at least once before he lets himself fuck you senseless.

Judging from your increasingly desperate pleas, you were close to giving Iwa what he wanted. Your fists in the man’s hair are clenched so fiercely that your knuckles have turned a lighter shade than the rest of your skin. Your breathing has increased in both speed and volume, moans and whimpers constantly spilling from your lips, keeping you from forming any coherent sentences.

Iwa chuckles and you nearly screech at the sensation that shoots through your body from his amusement. “You gonna cum, Princess? You sound so damn desperate. Sounds like you’re gonna cum all over my mouth, hm?”

It takes everything you have to respond, knowing if you don’t it may not end well for you. “Hah— F-fuck— mmmm gon’ cum— wan’ cum— Daddy~”

“Do it, Princess. I want to drink up all that you got.” Iwa starts curling his fingers inside of you and that’s what does you in. Your back arches and you nearly scream from the sudden burst of white hot pleasure. Iwa doesn’t slow down his ministrations either. His fingers curling incessantly and tongue lapping up everything you have to offer him. Your mind becomes fuzzy and you don’t even register Hajime picking you up and tossing you onto the king sized bed.

In your dazed state you hardly recognize that Iwaizumi is speaking to you until his hand is cradling your cheek. “Hey. Princess. You with me? I need you to tell me you’re good before I move further, okay?”

“Daddy… ‘m good, want you to fuck me now, please~” You sigh at the thought of Iwa filling you up and begin to grow impatient.

Hajime chuckles. “That’s my pretty baby. Can you strip and get on your hands and knees for me, Princess?”

You nod and quickly remove your remaining clothing. You make a show of turning around and arching your back just to wiggle your ass up at Iwaizumi. A low groan can be heard as a result of you teasing the man behind you. Then suddenly your body is jolted forward as you mewl at the impact of Hajime’s palm connecting roughly with your ass.

“Such a fuckin’ tease, Princess. Havin’ your tits out on display, wearin’ that cute lil’ skirt, and now shakin’ your plump ass at me. Hmm,” Iwa caresses the cheek he had just previously assaulted. “ I would punish you if I didn’t wanna stuff this pretty lil’ cunny of yours with my fat cock. Maybe next time, hm? Bet you would like that wouldn’t you, Princess?”

You take in a shuddering breath before responding desperately. “N-no not doin’ it on purpose, daddy. Promise~ Wanna be your good girl please~”

“I think you’re body is betrayin’ you, Princess, the way you just gushed from a single smack to the ass tells me otherwise. I think you like being a naughty little cockslut, hmm, like being punished. But I guess for now we can pretend you’re my good girl, hm?” With that Iwa rubs the tip of his cock up and down through your folds lamenting his previous words of stating just how wet you were for the musician. “You ready for me, Princess?”

Instead of answering you push back into Iwa’s touch and sink the tip of Iwa’s length into your dripping entrance with ease. Large fingers dig into your plush ass to stop you from going further and lull a whimper to pass through your lips. Iwa leans down and growls into your ear. “Such a fuckin’ impatient and bratty little slut, hm? Couldn’t wait for me to put it in. Had to take it upon yourself?”

As Iwa growls into your ear about how much of a brat you are as he’s sinking himself deeper into your pussy. Your eyes roll back into your head. His sheer size alone brings you close to your second orgasm. You can hear breathy curses fall from Iwa’s lips. His fingers dig deeper into your ass as you dig into the pillow you’re whimpering into.

“F-fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking tight. This pretty little cunny is already squeezing me so tight. You that close, pretty baby? Just from me putting my cock in you, fuck that’s so fuckin’ cute.” Hajime releases one of his grips on your cheeks to tangle his fingers in your hair and experiments with a gentle tug. He’s more than pleased with your reaction as your back arches further and multiple whimpers stumble out of you.

The coil that’s been building in your stomach is snapped by Iwaizumi bottoming out with his tip prodding your cervix. You wail and violently clench around the musician as your vision blurs. You’re babbling nonsense while Iwaizumi throws his head back.

“Oh fuck, Princess. You really came from me just bottoming out. Fuck, your such a desperate little cockslut. Feel so good, sucking me in like this-- shit think you got one more in ya my pretty little cockslut?”

You whimper and plead. “D-daddy, please~ Want you to move-- need you to fuck me so good~ Please~”

Iwa amusedly chuckles at your babbling but grants your wish anyway. His hips draw back slowly, allowing you to feel every single throbbing vein on his dick and once he’s pulled out to just the tip he lands a harsh smack to your ass and snaps his hips into you. His rough pace doesn’t let up after that. He’s ramming into you as you cover your screams with the pillows underneath you. Iwa clearly has other ideas, though, as he tugs on your hair to pull you off the slobber stained pillow.

“Shit-- Wanna hear those pretty screams, Princess. Let everyone know that ‘m making you feel good okay?” After no reply Hajime tugs on your hair again,

“Y-yes daddy! You’re making me feel so f-fuckin’ goo’! Gonna make me cum ‘gain- mmmm fuck~” Your eyes roll to the back of your head as Iwa brings you up to his chest and changes the angle.

He’s reaching further into you and if it weren’t for his arms securely holding you-- one wrapped around your waist, the other crossed your chest and his hand gripping your neck-- You probably would be thrashing in pleasure. Iwa leans down to place his mouth right next to your ear and growls.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck pretty baby. ‘M so fuckin’ close. You gonna cum with me, Princess? Gonna cream all over me while I fill you up with my cum? Bet you'd like that hm? Your slutty little cunt filled to the brim with my cum?” Iwa moves his hold around your waist to play with your clit.

Your head falls back onto his shoulder and let out a silent scream. “Shi- oh my- Fuck, daddy, gon’ cum, want you to cum with me. Cum in me, please! Fuck! Daddy ‘m cumming- shit~ “

You’re seeing stars and screaming incoherently as you vaguely register Iwa’s grunts and sloppy thrusts. His hot seed spurting into you as he rides out both your orgasms. Your vision comes back to you and you feel yourself slump into the musician's hold. You hum contentedly as you feel Iwa begin to soften inside of you.

He peppers you with kisses and nuzzles himself into your neck, causing you to giggle. “Fuck, Princess. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hold ya like this.”

“Hmm what a couple of idiots huh?” Iwa looks up at you and chuckles.

“I guess so,” you squeal as Iwa flips the two of you so you’re on your back with him hovering you, expertly keeping himself inside of you, “we’ve got some catching up to do now don’t we, Princess?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “W-what do you mean? We’re not done?”

Iwa chuckles as he slowly begins to pump himself into you. You whine from sensitivity. “Princess, we’re just getting started.”

Hq!! Permanent Taglist: @katsulovee

#📬. tam gets mail #{. 👻}#{. toorusangel}#{. written request}#hq #hq!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#iwaizumi #hajime #hajime iwaizumi #iwachan #hq smut #hq fic #iwaizumi x female reader #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi fic

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4stars-uswnt · 3 years

Text

You Take My Heart Away [Kelley O’Hara x Reader]

requested by anon: Kelley O’Hara x reader where reader gets into a fist fight but she’s like I won’t throw the first punch bc I’ll finish it and like she gets teased by the team but Kelley is mad at reader for it bc R could’ve gotten hurt but it was still cool

requested by anon: Can we get another Kelley O’Hara x reader doesn’t have to be anything specific just maybe along the lines of them both being crazy and maybe oblivious

A/N: i decided to combine these two prompts! hope y’all enjoy it. also bonus points to anybody who gets the title reference (there’s a lil connection to a reference within the story)

warnings: homophobic and sexist language, violence, and swearing

Conversation was flowing and music was playing in the background of the bar, as the USWNT finished up their first round of drinks and appetizers. The team had pushed together a couple of tables, where you all were now sitting, laughing at each other’s jokes.

The air was light, victory and celebration filling the atmosphere. Megan and Ashlyn had been the ones to suggest a night out after your win against Japan, not only to celebrate the 2-0 victory but also to celebrate Lindsey’s birthday that was in the next couple of days.

You were currently sitting next to your best friend, Kelley O’Hara, bridging the gap between the veterans and the youngsters.

“Anybody want another drink?” Alex asks, pushing her chair back, as she moves to get up.

A chorus of yeses ring out, the team’s orders ringing out.

“I’ll help you with that, Al.” You stand up from your seat, giving the other woman a warm smile.

Once the two of you had left for the bar, the rest of the team began interrogating Kelley, who let her eyes follow you as you moved through the crowd.

“Kel,” Ash calls out over the noise of the music. “When are you gonna admit to (Y/N) that you’re hopelessly in love with her?”

“What?” Kelley sputters, flustered.

Megan rolls her eyes at the defender. “It’s so obvious that you’ve had a crush on her for the past like six years, and a blind person can see that she likes you too.”

“I- I’m not in love with (Y/N).” Kelley’s face flushes, as she rubs the back of her neck nervously. “She’s my best friend.”

“Kelley,” Christen softly chimes in,, hoping to talk some sense in her friend she’s known since college. “You guys obviously have feelings for each other that go beyond friendship, and you’ve been dancing around them for years. We just want you two to be happy.”

Many of the women nod and voice their agreement.

“But what if it ruins our friendship and I lose her forever?” The freckled defender bites her lip nervously.

“That’s not gonna happen.” Christen gives her a knowing look. “Even if she didn’t reciprocate those feelings, she’s not gonna cut you out of her life.”

“And Kel,” Tobin adds on. “You never know until you ask her. And who knows? The risk of putting your heart out there may be worth it. But you’re just gonna live in the dark haunted by the unknown and what ifs unless you tell her how you feel.”

“I hate that you’re philosophical insights are usually right,” Kelley huffs.

Meanwhile, as the team holds their intervention for your best friend, you and Alex were at the bar ordering another round of drinks.

As you were waiting for the bartender, you and Alex were engaged in your own conversation, when you hear a boisterous voice interrupt you.

“Hey! It’s Alex Morgan!” A large man approaches the two of you, holding a half-full cup of beer in his hand, and you have a feeling he’s downed a couple pints already.

You sense Alex tense up next to you, as she gives the stranger a tight smile. “Hello.”

“Oh, and who’s this?” He turns to you, a leering grin on his face, making your insides turn. You reach for Alex’s hand in search of comfort but also as a protective gesture.

“Is she your girlfriend?” The man looks back at the star forward. “I hear your entire team is full of d*kes, but I didn’t think you were one. You’re way too hot to be a d*ke.”

Alex’s grip on your hand tightens, as anger radiates off of her. “I’m actually happily married.” She raises her left hand to show off her ring.

“Woah.” The stranger lets out a low whistle, his eyes slowly widening before he squinting to get a better look, as his movements impaired by the alcohol. “That is quite the rock. How’d you afford that with your pay? I’ve heard all about your team’s fight for equal pay and all that. I personally think it’s a load of crap. You guys aren’t even that good at soccer, and it’s so boring. The only thing that makes your games interesting is your smoking hot bodies.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust at this man’s blatant misogyny. “I’m surprised you know about our equal pay fight. I’d think it’d be too complicated for your thick skull,” you quip, throwing the insult right in his face.

“Ooooo feisty, are we?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “And where do you get off calling me dumb?”

“I’m just calling them as I see them,” you simply state, letting go of Alex’s hand, as you move to stand in front of her protectively. “Where do you get off disrespecting women and being a bigot?”

“(Y/N/N), it’s not worth it,” Alex whispers in your ear.

“I’d listen to your friend,” the man sneers and stands up straighter, slightly sobering up. “Because I’m not afraid to hit a girl, especially a mouthy one like you. Women like you deserve to be put in your place.”

“Go on then,” you challenge, probably a stupid decision on your part, but the adrenaline is rushing and you are at your wits end with this man in front of you. “I dare you.”

You thank all the gods in the universe that the stupid stranger was actually stupid enough to try and throw a punch with his blood-alcohol level because you can see his punch coming from a mile away.

Before his fist can make contact with your face, you grab his hand and twist his arm, leaning in closely to his face. “Is that all you got? My mom hits better than you.” You smirk.

“Let go of me, you bitch,” he growls, snatching his arm out of your grasp.

“Wait, I have one more thing,” you call out.

“What the hell are you talk-”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, rather your fist cuts him off. The man in front of you had been testing your patience and had used up all your grace, which, in your opinion, warranted a punch in the face.

You can’t help but wince at the sharp pain shooting through your hand upon the contact, but the cracking sound of his nose eases some of your discomfort.

By now, the rest of the team had become worried by your prolonged absence and then had noticed the commotion this stranger was stirring. Hearing the raised voices coming from your direction, many of the veterans, including Kelley, Christen, Tobin, Ash, Ali, and Megan, made their way over to where Alex was currently holding you back from unleashing your anger on this drunk man.

“What is going on here?” Becky asks, surveying the situation in front of her.

“This asshole was insulting Al and then had the audacity to continue being a sexist pig,” you spit out, directing your words at the man, who was still holding his bloody nose, while Alex was doing her best to keep you under wraps.

“I think it’s time for you to go,” Ashlyn states firmly.

As the goalie, along with Becky, Megan, and Ali, coax the stranger into leaving you alone, and hopefully leaving the club, Alex, Christen, Tobin, and Kelley try and calm you down.

“(Y/N/N),” Christen soothes, cupping your face. “I need you to calm down. Take a deep breath.” The curly-haired forward inhales and exhales, motioning for you to mimic her actions.

You take a deep breath, and upon exhaling, you feel the tension, along with the adrenaline, leave your body.

“Shit,” you sigh. “My hand.”

You lift your right hand, revealing your split knuckles on which bruises were starting to form.

“Come on, Sylvester.” Tobin claps your shoulder, letting out an amused chuckle. “Let’s get you back to the hotel, and on the way, you can tell us all about your heroics.”

You amusedly roll your eyes and lean into the other woman’s side.

As the team gathers their things, ready to call it a night after the turn of events, Megan approaches you, holding out a bag of ice.

“Here, (Y/N), the bartender gave me this for your hand.”

“Thanks, P.” You place the cool ice on your knuckles, hissing at the temperature shock.

On the way back to the hotel, many of your teammates were interrogating you about what had happened back at the bar. After telling the entire story, you received many hoots and hollers from the rest of the team.

“Damn (Y/N)!” Ash whistles. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

“Way to protect our honor,” Rose gushes, as many of the women nod along.

“Thank you, (Y/N), for defending me,” Alex says sincerely.

“Of course, Al. Anytime.” You give the forward a warm smile.

“Who knew (Y/N) could be such a badass?!” Emily exclaims with an impressed look on her face. “Kel, did you know that your best friend was a secret badass?”

While the rest of the girls had been teasing you about your heroic actions, your best friend had been oddly quiet.

“News to me.” Kelley answers shortly, her face hard and distant. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, wondering if the defender was mad at you. You thought she would’ve been proud of you for standing up for the team and putting a sexist douchebag in his place.

Before going back to entertaining your teammates’s jokes and questions, you make a mental note to talk to her once you get back to the hotel, silently thanking Vlatko for rooming the two of you together this camp.

You would never in a million years admit it, but you were harboring a huge crush for your best friend, had been for the past six years, ever since you’d joined the national team. Not only did you not want to ruin your friendship and end up losing Kelley, but you knew she would never return your feelings.

Over the past several years that you’d been friends with the defender, you’d seen Kelley go in and out of relationships, and comparing yourself to her other girlfriend’s, you had a feeling you weren’t her type.

You also had reservations due to the fact that Kelley was your teammate, and you didn’t want to change the team dynamic, especially if the two of you didn’t work out.

Thoughts of Kelley clouded your mind all the way back to the hotel, only further exacerbated by her deafening silence.

Upon arriving to the hotel lobby, before you all disperse to your rooms, Alex gives you another hug and thanks you again, and Becky, ever the mother of the group, gives you a warning.

“Make sure to ice on and off. 20 minutes. You know the drill, (Y/L/N). Kelley, make sure she takes care of that hand.”

“Don’t worry about me, Becks. I got it,” you reassure the veteran defender, giving her a mock salute.

Following Kelley, you cautiously enter the hotel room. You nervously watch the other women move around the room, as she silently goes about her usual nighttime routine. Taking the hint that she wasn’t going to talk to you anytime soon, you go about your own routine and get ready for bed.

After about twenty minutes later, after both of you had showered, you were finishing wrapping your hand and were about to get into bed, when you noticed Kelley discretely staring at your bandaged hand.

Unable to tolerate the silence anymore, you break the tension. “Okay, what is up with you?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“Kel,” you sigh, plopping down on the side of her bed. “You’ve been giving me the cold shoulder ever since what happened at the bar. Are you mad at me?”

“Nope. Not mad,” Kelley hums slightly passive aggressively, still not looking up from her book.

You roll your eyes, frustrated by your best friend’s childish behavior. “Kelley, I know when you’re lying, and I know that you’re mad at me right now, so would you please just look at me?!”

Sensing the exasperation and frustration in your voice, Kelley closes and sets down her book. “Fine, you’re right. I am mad at you.”

You thought you’d feel relieved, hearing her confirm your suspicions, but instead, the pressure in your chest increases.

“Why? What did I do?” You practically beg, scooting up the bed, so you’re closer to the other woman.

“As if you don’t know,” she scoffs.

Confused, you tilt your head. “I clearly don’t. Kel, please talk to me, tell me what I did.”

“You literally punched a dude in the face!”

“Yeah, but he deserved it, Kel! You heard the things he was saying,” you defend. “I couldn’t just let him get away with talking about our team like that. I thought you’d be proud of me for standing up to a sexist asshole like him.”

“I am proud, sort of. I mean that was completely badass and totally warranted, not that I necessarily expected that from you, and I’m glad you put him in his place,” Kelley babbles. “But that’s not the point, (Y/N/N). You were reckless tonight. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

Your face softens at her outburst. Taking a deep breath, Kelley confesses, “I love you, (Y/N). I’m in love with you, and I just can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt, especially by some drunk idiot who doesn’t know shit about football or respecting women.”

Your eyes widen and your heart practically stop, when you process the words that have come out of your best friend’s mouth.

“(Y/N), please say something,” Kelley begs.

“You’re in love with me?” You test the words on your mouth.

“Yeah,” she sighs contently, giving you a soft smile. “Have been for the past eight years.”

“Gosh, we really are idiots.” You let out a wet chuckle, shaking your head.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, too, Kel,” you rasped, your voice laced with pure emotion. “I’ve loved you since my first camp.”

“Wow,” Kelley scoffs, an amused grin playing on her face. “Are we really that oblivious?”

“Apparently so.” You shrug. “But we’re here now.”

“Yeah, we are.” The freckled woman softens. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod eagerly, leaning in to meat the other woman’s lips. The kiss is nothing like you’d dreamed of; it’s better. It’s soft and tender, full of love and passion. You melt into each other, as your lips move together in harmony.

Not wanting things to get too heated, especially not before you’ve talked about what this meant for the future of your relationship, you pull away, resting your forehead against hers.

“Hi,” you whisper, smiling like a fool.

“Hey,” Kelley murmurs softly, returning your smile.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She takes your hand, kissing your wrapped knuckles. “But please don’t be getting into any more bar fights.”

“Hey! I would never start a fight, however I have no problem finishing them.” You smirk, boasting slightly triumphantly.

Kelley rolls her eyes playfully, but then looks into your eyes. “I mean it, (Y/N). I can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. So no more fights alright?”

“I promise, Kel.” You give her a chaste kiss.

“Good.”

That night, you stay in Kelley’s bed, cuddling into her side. As you slowly drift into a peaceful sleep, you notice the woman next to you is already fast asleep.

You sigh contently, and you can’t help but feel extremely lucky that even after all these years, and everything that’s happened, life still led you to this woman and a love worth fighting for.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #kelley o'hara x reader #kelley o'hara imagine #kelley o'hara imagines #uswnt #kelley o'hara

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 15.5k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: filmed sex/voyeurism/exhibitionism as usual, an extra lil tidbit of exhibitionism this time around though, thigh riding, choking/erotic asphyxiation/breathplay, degradation, dumbification, objectification - all consensual, but y’all wanted meandom jimin so i delivered, please read at your discretion - dom!jimin obv, sub!reader, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, punishment/discipline, footjob kinda (socks are worn, it’s not bare feet), aftercare as usual, mentions and implications of mxm

dedicated to my sfhs girls, everyone in the villa discord, and femboy friday

please note there are hyperlinks in this chapter ! they link to specific images that i thought might help you visualise some things ;) all links are safe

DAY NINETEEN

Your body clearly still isn’t right again by Friday morning, but it’s nothing a good breakfast can’t solve. Fortunately for you, Jin is more than happy to turn it into an occasion for a large, communal meal, and with barely any prompting, he’s whizzing away in the kitchen like a madman.

As you wait, you sip away at some vaguely herby-yet-fruity tea that he’d brewed you, watching his broad shoulders shift beneath his shirt when he chops vegetables, and his brows furrow in focus when he measures out spices.

“I don’t suppose I’d have time to- Nevermind,” Jin mutters at some point, carting a bladeful of crushed garlic from the chopping board to a simmering pan.

You sit up, ignoring the billow of steam from your mug. “Time to what?” He shakes his head, but you keep on him, watching his eyes dart to your figure leaning against the counter, and back at his work. With a gasp, you thrust the mug at him accusingly. “Were you going to put the moves on me?”

He scoffs low in his throat, but doesn’t respond.

“You were! Was making breakfast for me just a ruse, then?”

Jin turns around at that, lifting his brows and giving you a mock look of offense. “It was not! I’m just an opportunist, that’s all.” His shoulders sag. “But I don’t want the meat to burn, and it’s only time before the irresistible aroma of my delicious cooking reaches their doors and draws them down like rats to the pied piper.”

“Are you calling the others rats?” you ask with a giggle bubbling up your throat.

The cook pauses. “I suppose I’m not not calling them rats,” he allows, “but that’s not the point. I’m taking my time with you.” Perhaps the comment would be more sexy or romantic if he wasn’t using a kitchen knife to gesture.

Your interested piqued, you take a slow, thoughtful sip of the quickly-cooling dregs of tea. “You could always tell me,” you offer up, watching his head tilt in curiosity. “Tell me what you would’ve done to me if you weren’t worried about time. Or burning meat.”

His lips part slightly, a strange look in his eyes, like he’s appraising you. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” Though it’s probably meant to come off as a joke, his voice is too soft for it to carry. “If I tell you, I’ll have to change my plans for the prompt. Keep you on your toes?”

“Plans?” you question. “I thought you were an opportunist.”

Even though his back is faced to you, stirring some vegetables amongst the strips of meat, Jin speaks clearly, every word enunciated like it’s a mantra. “I’d kiss you ‘til you couldn’t breathe,” he begins, “and when you were overcome with need, I’d lift you on that counter and get to my knees. Eat you out like you were my last meal. Finally, if you still wanted more, I’d lie you down on the tile and fuck you well like you deserve.”

Your cheeks are hot, searing skin and throbbing pulse. Jin turns around to spoon the cooked stir-fry into a bowl on the countertop, looking far more unaffected than you. His eyes dart to you, a bemused and genuine smile quirking at his lips when he sees you flustered into silence. “It’s your turn,” he remarks in an easy drawl, placing the bowl beside you before he goes to the fridge to retrieve a carton of eggs. “What would you do if you weren’t worried about time?”

You take a breath, nostrils flaring at the rich mix of buttery vegetables and perfectly seasoned meat. “I’ll be honest with you, Jin,” you quip in a small, unobtrusive voice, “I’d probably get you to finish cooking first. This smells fucking incredible.”

Jin’s pealing laugh is punctuated by the cracking of an egg into the still-hot pan, and as the sizzling echoes through the room, you feel the air settle back into something lighter. Good timing, too, as it’s then that you hear footsteps behind you.

Before you can turn, your sides are crushed by a tight back-hug, arms wedged into your sides. “Feeling better?” a smooth voices asks, and you’re surprised to recognise it as Namjoon’s.

The academic had woken before you, so was fully coherent when you’d gotten up with a roiling stomach. With more than a tinge of concern, he’d let you shower first while he’d passed the message on to Jin, the only other awake member of the household. He now smelt fresh, like mint and citrus, and his skin still radiated heat from under his shirt.

He releases you just as quickly as he’d wrapped his arms around you, nothing more than a greeting, and Jin doesn’t even lift a brow at the affectionate display.

Before you can answer however, there’s a fourth party entering the room, a familiar sleepy drawl as Yoongi pads into the kitchen and beelines straight for the coffee machine. “Still sick?”

“Still?” Jin questions, narrowing his eyes in concern as he scrambles the eggs with the corner of a silicon spatula. “How long have you been sick?”

“Just since yesterday,” you deflect, “it’s probably nothing.”

Namjoon goes stiff beside you. “You don’t think it’s...you know? A problem with your birth control?”

Your eyes furrow in confusion before you process his words a moment later. “Oh, I- surely not? I have an implant, so it’s not like forgetting a pill or anything.” But the thought niggles in your mind, and you seek out Yoongi, who slumps against the counter while his drink brews. “It’s not like… morning sickness, is it?”

A disbelieving laugh leaves Yoongi’s lips. You gape at him, but he just waves a hand in dismissal. “Don’t stress about it. You have an IUD, right? They’re 99% effective, and morning sickness generally starts around the six-week period. When did you get the IUD?”

You think back. “Once I cleared all my tests for the show, I guess? I think it was a couple days before we came here. Why?”

Yoongi seems to wake up very quickly after that, face falling slack. “Wait- A couple days? First of all, unless you were having unprotected six roughly two to three weeks before you came here, I highly doubt you have anything more than a slight cold or at the most, food poisoning-” Jin shoots the doctor an accusatory glare, which Yoongi ignores in favour of abandoning his coffee and rounding the corner. “But I think we have a different problem to worry about.”

You blink, your sick stomach returning as his concern starts getting to you. “I wasn’t having sex at all two to three weeks before the show. But what’s the problem?”

Yoongi looks stern, what you imagine he’d look like in his clinic giving serious medical advice to a patient. “Were you on your period when you got the implant?”

Reflexively, your cheeks heat at the personal question, hyper aware of Namjoon, Jin and Yoongi’s collective attention on you. “No. Why?”

“Fuck,” the doctor curses. “Come with me.”

“What’s going on?” You take his outstretched hand, heart racing as he leads you towards the front door, away from the other two who wait in confused and concerned silence. “What’s happening, Yoongi, you’re stressing me out?”

Yoongi’s fingers squeeze yours reassuringly as his face softens, holding the door open for you. “I’ll explain when we get to Sejin’s van, sweetheart, you’re fine.”

Though the sun has well and truly risen, it’s relatively cloudy, and the two of you aren’t even wearing anything more than house slippers and socks as you rush across the gravel towards the production van. There are lights on inside, and Yoongi doesn’t bother knocking before he’s bundling you and him inside.

The van is relatively cramped, some modest floor space with a single bed and then every other surface filled with monitors, paperwork, and a bank of screens displaying the cameras inside the Villa. Sejin, with his bulky headphones around his neck and his chair faced towards you, clearly must have seen you coming, as your sudden entry doesn’t catch him off-guard.

“How can I help yo-”

“Did nobody do their fucking research?” Yoongi spits immediately at him, giving no introduction or pleasantries. “I know there are speakers in the rooms, I know you heard us, so you better start explaining otherwise if you’re not lucky you’ll be facing a massive fucking lawsuit.”

Sejin sighs, his eyes darting to you in sympathy, before they return to Yoongi. “The requirement was that Y/n was on birth control by the time the show began. She was.”

“Yeah, well, not effective birth control,” Yoongi counters.

“The IUD Y/n got is 99% effective. She and all of you signed off that using additional birth control such as condoms beyond that was your choice. If you’ve chosen not to, that’s legally not our responsibility. The condoms have been made available.”

You furrow your brows, finding comfort in his hand tightly cradling yours. “Yoongi, I don’t understand…”

The doctor sighs, pinching his brow, and turns to you. “Y/n, when you got the IUD, did they not warn you about the seven-day window?”

You feel the blood drain from your face, the feeling that bad news is imminent. “What window? No, the lady didn’t say anything.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Yoongi curses, rubbing a palm over his face. “Well, listen up the two of you for a quick lesson in intra-uterine devices. If you aren’t currently on your period, they can take up to seven days to be considered effective. So while it’s highly unlikely that you have morning sickness right now, Y/n, I’m pretty fucking concerned for what may have happened during that first week.”

You bite down harshly on your lip as tears spring to your eyes, you naturally feel yourself wrapping your free arm over your stomach. “How do I- What do I do?”

Yoongi’s face softens at the action, and he turns to Sejin with a sigh. “You need to get an early detection pregnancy test, so that we can know for sure. Plenty of couples have unprotected sex without any pregnancies, so it’s not a definite, but we need to rule it out quickly so that Y/n can decide how she wishes to proceed. How quickly can you get one?”

Sejin, who had been looking greener and greener as Yoongi spoke, finally lets out a rushing breath, jumping up. “I’ll go down to a pharmacy now. Y/n; are you wanting to come with to do it sooner, or...?”

You sniff, shaking your head quickly. “Can you just bring it back here? I don’t want the others to think something’s wrong.”

Sejin nods stiffly, patting you once on the shoulder as he passes you. “I’m so sorry, Y/n, Yoongi’s right. We should’ve done more research. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Yoongi goes lax the second Sejin shuts the van door behind you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Either way, you’ll be just fine. You always have options,” he assures you, cheek pressed to your hair, rubbing your back.

Like your mind is desperate to find something to relieve your sudden crashing wave of stress, a hysterical laugh jumps out of your throat. “A fucking pregnancy scare,” you bemoan, “this is meant to be slutty Bachelorette but it’s just a slutty telenovela.”

Yoongi freezes when you begin laughing, but quickly falls in on the joke. “I even have a secret twin,” he jokes. “We better keep an eye out to make sure Jin doesn’t fake his death to steal the show’s budget.”

You sink further into his secure embrace, chuckling at his remark but quickly sobering up. “What am I gonna do, Yoongi? I can’t have a baby, especially not if it’s some- some mutant mix of seven different dads!”

“Sweetheart, please don’t stress yourself over it before you even know,” Yoongi pleads. “If it’s any consolation, that’s not how biology works at all. That would make for a riveting episode of Jeremy Kyle, though.”

You let out a groan. “God, how would they fit eight armchairs on the stage?”

Yoongi chuckles, smoothing a hand down your back before he gently breaks the hug. “Do you want to stay here, or go back inside and get something to eat? We don’t have to tell the others; Jin and Namjoon are mature enough not to ask pry, especially if there are others around.”

Your growling stomach answers the question for you.

Inside, Jin and Namjoon stay quiet just as Yoongi had anticipated, the former simply announcing that you were just in time for breakfast.

The table was set, most of them already seated, and you gape at the impressive display. The stir-fry from earlier, several individual small bowls of rice, a deep brown broth, scrambled eggs, and even some rice porridge fill the table.

Taehyung, Jungkook and Hoseok are on one half of the table, Jungkook looking like it physically pained him to restrain himself. Jin at one end, an empty space at the other, and the final long edge has Namjoon sitting beside two place for you and Yoongi. Just as you open your mouth to voice the absence, Jimin comes around the corner from the stairs and snags a place on the head of the table beside Taehyung.

You wish him a good morning as you sit, the smells of all the different dishes mingling in your nose the second your butt hits the seat. “Sorry for holding you all up,” you apologise, pasting a smile on your face even as your insides still wriggle in anxious tension. “Thank you for the meal, Jin.”

“Anytime,” he deflects, and like that word was a command, Jungkook bursts into action, shoveling food into his bowl like he’s on the verge of starvation. Jin sighs, reaching for the stirfry. “Quickly, before the vulture gets it all.”

Breakfast, once you force yourself to enjoy it and stay in the moment, is impeccably delicious and a lot of fun. As it turns out, Taehyung’s been making good use of his free schedule, and he regales the table with anecdotes of teaching Mango a number of ‘useful’ tricks like high-fiving, playing dead and turning in tight circles to beg for a treat. It’s while watching a video of the small white dog lolling out her tongue after Taehyung pretend to shoot her with his fingers shaped like a gun that there’s a sudden knock at the door.

Immediately, the thought of the pregnancy test comes to mind, and you’re rushing to the door before anyone else gets the chance.

What you don’t expect to open the door to, however, is a simple delivery worker, with a decently large box under one arm and a small electronic pad in the other. You stare blankly at the man as he consults the label on the box. “Looking for a Jung Hoseok,” he states gruffly, eyes barely reaching you from under a yellow cap branded with the company logo.

Your eyes widen, and you turn back, calling through to the kitchen. “Hobi, it’s for you!”

Rather than returning to your seat, you wait in rapt curiosity as Hoseok practically skips to the front door, smoothly signing off the package with an easy grin. Once he takes it and shuts the door behind the already-departing delivery man, you press against his shoulder to catch a glimpse at the label.

Though Hoseok tugs it away from you with a tut, and you aren’t able to read the packing sticker, you manage to take note of a dark red stamp inked heavily on the top left corner of the box. Two Rs, back-to-back with lush flicks on the outer downward strokes.

The dom parades the box around the foyer, making sure he’s visible to the rest of the guys at the kitchen table, before taking it upstairs with a spring to his step.

Taking a seat again, you let out a disbelieving whoosh of air. “I think it’s from his work,” you tell the others conspiratorially.

Jungkook’s eyes widen, his right cheek stuffed with meat he’s pushed to the side. “Like the Red Room? Kinky stuff?” he questions with a slight lisp, before chewing frantically and swallowing the food. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“It seems so,” Jimin murmurs, his eyes glinting with interest. “Just because we can’t go out doesn’t mean we can’t bring stuff to us, I suppose.”

Jin watches the two youngest with a strangely amused look on his face, twirling his chopsticks against the tabletop. “I’m surprised the two of you have kept quiet so long?”

Jungkook frowns. “Huh? Oh!” Suddenly, his and Taehyung’s faces light up in unison, glancing down at themselves.

Taehyung claps the table in excitement, staring at you, Yoongi and Jimin. “Do you know what day it is today?”

“Friday,” Yoongi answers shortly. “Is it a public holiday or something? It doesn’t really matter if we’re still stuck in here, does it?”

“No, hyung,” Jungkook enthuses, “do none of you go on TikTok? It’s femboy Friday!”

Jimin furrows his brows in utter confusion. “It’s what?”

In their haste to stand up, Taehyung and Jungkook just about tip their chairs over, knocking the table with their knees. Your mouth drops as you see instead of sweatpants or jeans, both boys are sporting skirts.

“Femboy Friday,” Taehyung repeats with a shy smile as Jimin’s eyes rake shamelessly over his figure, “we’re saying fuck toxic masculinity and celebrating feminine boys and proving that clothes don’t have gender all in one! Namjoon, don’t you love it?”

Namjoon, to his credit, manages to nod dumbly, but it seems like that’s his only remaining executive function as his jaw hangs slack, eyes wide.

You can’t blame him, however. You can’t stop looking at the two either. Jungkook has a casual, loose black t-shirt tucked into a high waisted skirt that’s the same shade. Tight around his hips and flaring in an a-line down his thighs, silver chains and buckles give it an edgier look. As he does a twirl, you catch a glimpse of the definition the fabric gives his ass, everyone watching with rapt attention.

Taehyung, on the other hand, has gone for a sweeter look, with a white blouse tucked in to a dove grey plaid skirt that falls in perfectly ironed pleats. It’s relatively cool inside, so he’s shrugged on a cream-coloured jacket somewhat reminiscent of a school blazer. It’s clear by the tentative smile and blushed cheeks that he’s more shy about the getup than Jungkook is; the latter stands tall with folded arms, like he’s daring you to say something.

Once the rest of you at the table get over the initial shock, followed by the silent awe and appreciation, it’s Jimin who speaks up first, his lips parted in a shocked pout. “Why did nobody tell me?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?”

Jimin pushes his chair back, brows furrowed. “Where was this announced? I wasn’t informed.”

Taehyung sends him a boxy grin, his skirt swishing with the slightest movement. “It’s a TikTok thing, Minnie! You should do it with us!”

Jimin tilts his head with a thoughtful hum. “I’m not sure that I have any skirts in my suitcases. Some lingerie, sure, but not-”

“Oh, I just got mine out of the little costume wardrobe in the cupboard,” Taehyung explains easily, jumping forward to tug at Jimin’s arm. “I got a schoolgirl one, but I saw a cheerleader one in there too, come on!”

Your mouth hangs open as the two rush away, and Yoongi splutters, clapping a hand on the table to punctuate his shock. “Wait, sorry, I must’ve- wait,” he babbles, shaking his head in disbelief, “Jimin has lingerie? I’m making tomorrow Panties Saturday.”

Jungkook giggles. “Hyung, that’s not how it works! Femboy Friday is like, a thing, you know? Tae and I made a video earlier and it’s already doing numbers. If we all did it, I bet we’d go viral!”

Yoongi winces. “In my line of work, ‘viral’ is not a good thing.”

You turn to him with a grin. “Come on, Yoongi,” you entice warmly, “it would really cheer me up.”

Keeping your mind off other things is definitely a priority now, and by Yoongi’s reluctant sigh of defeat, you know he knows it. “I don’t want to wear a skirt,” he states, “my legs get cold easily. Is there any compromise of some sort? Anything else I can contribute to the cause?”

It seems you and Jungkook get the idea at the same time, judging by the way his eyes light up.

Before Yoongi can voice his concern, a triumphant clearing of a throat catches the room’s attention. Looking demure in his schoolgirl-esque getup, Taehyung stands tall in the doorway, glancing behind him. “Announcing,” he calls out more noisily than is needed, “the head cheerleader himself, Park Jimin!”

When Taehyung had mentioned cheerleader, and again now, you’d expected the typical red get-up, maybe a sweeter, more innocent look, but at this point in the show it’s about time you realise that Jimin never restricts himself to the obvious route, preferring to defy expectations.

Stepping into the gap Taehyung leaves for him and resting an elbow casually against the doorframe, Jimin looks like the type of student that would run the team with an iron fist. Or, judging by the rings laden on his hands, a silver one. It looks like the only things he’s taken from the cheerleader costume is a pleated pink skirt and some white thigh-high stockings, slipping slightly on the foyer tile. A simple but sexy Gucci shirt is tucked into the obscenely high waistband. Though the logo is gold, red and green, stamped onto the centre of the white fabric, it doesn’t clash with the skirt, instead making an addicting contrast. Shrugged on top, loose around his arms, is a black jacket with red and gold detailing on the shoulders. His gaze is piercing and superior, wearing the skirt like it’s armour as he slinks forward and sits in the chair with a smug look on his face.

Your mouth feels dry. Reminded of the last time he wore more typically feminine attire, it’s like the temperature of the room has increased by several degrees. “I think this is my new favourite day of the year,” you admit quietly, though it carries well enough in the awed room. “You guys look incredible.”

Jimin smirks. “Who’s next, then?”

Jungkook brightens up, wiping the corner of his lip surreptitiously. “Yoongi! Hyung, we need makeup; lots of it.”

Yoongi blanches. “You what now?”

Jin sits forward eagerly. “Wait; if we’re all making ourselves look pretty, I want in. I’ve always wanted to look like the rich hot mom from Parasite,” he divulges openly, turning to you. “Y/n, do you have some jewellery I can use?”

You grin. “I guess so. I know Jimin has some too, and I think Jungkookie? We can get you iced up. Ah, I feel like a little girl dressing up paper dolls. Let’s go get some supplies and we can make a day of it!”

You stand up too quickly, head lurching and stomach protesting, and like the crashing of a freezing wave, you feel dread wash over you. Before you can even dwell on it, Jin’s behind you, steadying you and holding you upright against him.

“Alright?” he asks in a low voice as the others begin to discuss a game plan.

You nod. “Just stood up too quickly.”

Jin’s mouth twists, unconvinced with your answer. “Let’s go upstairs and raid your closet. Take a breather.”

Leaving the others behind, you let the noise drop away as Jin carefully leads you up the stairs and to your room, sitting you carefully on your bed.

You collapse back against the mattress, feeling weak now that the pressure in your head is beginning to recede. Unsurprisingly, Jin doesn’t immediately beeline for the wardrobe or set of drawers. The springs adjust to a shift in weight. Jin’s hands finds one of yours, wrapping it between the two and squeezing it in reassurance. You’re smart enough to recognise this as the start of a Talk, capital letter intended.

“I’m worried about you,” he starts softly, his voice warm and comforting like cotton. “You don’t have to feel obligated to tell me a thing, and I know I’m no medical expert like Yoongichi, but I do know a lot about sex and relationships, and I know that surprises and accidents can happen. I’m here for you in any capacity you need, Y/n. Any at all.”

You swallow, staring at the slightly uneven, off-white paint on the ceiling. “I might be pregnant. It’s a big might but, you know…”

Jin’s hand tightens on yours briefly at that word, like a flexing of muscle, and relaxes again. “The not-knowing is still scary,” he finishes lightly.

“Yeah.” With a frown, you focus your awareness inwards, feeling your stomach rise and fall with your breath. “I don’t feel pregnant. But then- how the fuck would I know what that felt like?”

Jin is silent for a moment. “That isn’t really something I could help with, sadly.”

You huff out a humourless laugh through your nose. “It’s fine, Jin. I appreciate your concern. Sejin’s bringing back a test soon, hopefully, and then I can just… deal with it then.”

“Do you wanna talk about what those results would mean for you? What you feel about the possibility of-”

“Absolutely not,” you cut in sharply, sitting up so quickly that your vision spots. “I’m refusing to dwell on it until I have an answer.” You swallow down the nausea that rises in your throat the more you think about it, turning to face him. “If you wanna help, Jin, and I can’t thank you enough for wanting to- then just distract me.”

Jin pauses, nods, then a grin stretches across his face. “Deal.”

“This is ridiculous,” Hoseok huffs for the hundredth time, nails digging in to the arms of the chair he’s sat at. “It could’ve been anyone else but him. Y/n, why didn’t you help?”

You beam innocently, watching as an equally tight-lipped Jimin settles on a stool in front of the dom, a palette of brown and beige pressed powders and a small brush in hand. “Minnie’s way better than me at it, Hobi. Don’t you wanna look pretty?”

“I chose to pass this in the truth or dare game for a reason.” Hoseok tenses and recoils violently when Jimin’s hand lifts suddenly towards his face. “He’s going to make me look ugly on purpose,” he accuses.

Jimin scoffs, hand falling again. “Are you going to keep talking about me like I’m not here?”

“Ideally, yes.”

The blue-haired man tuts, lazily swirling the soft, short bristles over a particular shade, collecting more pigment. “It would be easier to make you look ugly, but I always relish a good challenge. Don’t worry; you’ll thank me when I’m done.”

“I most certainly will not,” Hoseok pouts stiffly. “Just get on with it, Peaches.”

Jimin’s hand overshoots and streaks a thick tan line on the strip of naked skin between his short skirt and thigh-high stockings. “Fuck. Keep your mouth shut, Jung.”

“You said you’re just doing the base stuff, why does my mouth need to be shut?” Hoseok complains.

Jimin levels him a glare. “Because if you open it, I’ll shove this down your throat and use you as storage.”

“Kinky,” Hoseok banters back, but settles into silence, only flinching slightly when Jimin raises the brush to his face again, dabbing delicately at Hoseok’s dainty nose.

Like some sort of makeshift salon - the second time all eight of you had gathered together to do so - the dining table has been transformed. At the head, Hoseok and Jimin glare at each other with less than a ruler’s length between them. Jungkook and Taehyung have descended on Yoongi like makeup kiosk employees, gushing over his smooth skin and graceful eye shape as the man protests noisily but otherwise seems very content being fussed over.

Jin is wearing enough necklaces, bracelets and earrings that he jingles with the slightest movement, of which there are many as he compulsively makes the eyeliner on his lids longer and thicker and longer again. The brief moments of silence that descend usually consist of him holding up the hand mirror and staring intensely at his reflection, sometimes holding it close enough that his breath fogs it up.

And finally, you and Namjoon are in between the three parties, the academic patiently holding his hands steady as you file away at his nails, shaping them a bit. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” you check in.

Namjoon immediately shakes his head, leaning in closer to watch your motions and the dust shavings that pile up on the folded paper towel beneath your hands. “I’ve always wanted to get my nails done,” he says, voice a casual low timbre.

That surprises you. “Really?” you ask, gently tugging on his hand so he can present his thumb for filing.

“Well,” he amends quickly, “always since yesterday.” At your bewildered laugh, he cracks a sheepish grin and explains. “One of the fans sent in something mentioning it when I visited the confessional booth at lunchtime. It’s sort of been on my mind since then.”

“I’m glad I can help you fulfil this lifelong dream of yours then, Joonie,” you remark with a smile of your own. It’s impossible not to cheer up in Namjoon’s company, your heart always feels lighter in his vicinity. “Are you wanting a colour? I don’t have many, sorry; Jin’s hogging the white and the pink.”

“It’s for a French tip,” Jin calls out imperiously, never one to miss his name mentioned in conversation. You know he’s chosen to help himself so that he can quietly keep an eye on you, and the thought makes you feel more secure and unburdened, appreciative of his attempts to keep your mind occupied. “It’s high class fashion, baby.”

“Maybe in 2010,” Jungkook retorts without glancing away from the blush he’s patting onto Yoongi’s cheeks. “These days it’s all about nail art, hyung.”

Namjoon pipes up. “Like drawing pictures and stuff on the nail? I think some of the girls in my class get those.” He gasps, wriggling in his seat as he turns to you with as much urgency as he can while his hands stay still in your loose grasp. “Do you think you could do that?”

You laugh self-consciously. “I’m not really an expert,” you begin, but Namjoon’s look of veiled disappointment is too much to bear, “but I could give you some nail stickers? They’re just like, love-hearts and stars and leaf patterns and stuff, but-”

With a gasp Namjoon leans forward. “Can I have the leaf ones?” After receiving your confirmation, his knee jiggles under the table in suppressed excitement as you pick up a bottle of nude base coat, the colour of milky tea with a hint of pink to warm it up a bit. You’d used it many a time when you just wanted something plain, and it’ll serve you well today as a blank canvas. Namjoon holds his breath as you uncap it and hold up his pinky finger, carefully coating the smallest fingernail in the glossy polish.

His hands are warm, pliant under your grasp. As he goes quiet to let you focus, the sounds of the rest of the room fill in the vacuum.

“You get that away from my eyes,” Yoongi hisses at one point, making his two stylists tut in reproach.

“It’s just an eyelash curler, hyung,” Taehyung defends, Jungkook providing a resounding ‘yeah!’ in the background. “People use them all the time, it doesn’t hurt.”

“People wax and get tattoos and piercings all the time, Taehyung, and those are still painful. You will not be using that medieval torture device on any part of me.”

Taehyung huffs, and you hear a petulant clank as he drops it back onto the table. “Enjoy your boring straight lashes then, Min Yoongi.”

“I will, actually,” he retorts automatically. “Are you almost done? I feel like I’ve dunked my face in cake flour.”

“Not even close,” Jungkook responds cheerily. “Now it’s time for the fun part though, don’t worry.”

“And what’s the fun part?”

A familiar sticky thwack echoes through the room. “Lip gloss,” he declares with a pleased voice.

Just as Yoongi lets out a pitiful groan, Hoseok gasps from the other end of the table. “Jimin,” he squawks in offense, “why aren’t you giving me lip gloss?”

Jimin just about growls in response. “I said not to move,” he chastises, “now you’ve gone and fucked up the smokey eye, so thanks a lot.”

“I believe you’re the one that fucked up, Jimin,” Hoseok answers haughtily, “a poor worker blames his tools.”

“If you’re calling yourself a tool, I’d be inclined to agree,” Jimin responds, his tone clipped in a way that means he’s focussed. “Okay, that’s looking better. And we’re not doing lip gloss, it looks tacky.”

Finished with the bottom layer on both of Namjoon’s hands, you glance up in just enough time to see Jungkook gasp and turn Yoongi around violently, presenting him like a piece of evidence in court.

Jimin appraises him silently, Yoongi blinking and waiting for his opinion. Taehyung and Jungkook have done a great job, giving him delicate hints of pink shadow just under the outer corners of his eyes, short swoops of eyeliner and baby pink lips coated with a thick sheen of gloss reflecting the light. With an indignant tut, Jimin turns back to Hoseok. “It looks tacky unless you’re Yoongi,” he corrects.

Yoongi seems more content than Hoseok with the answer, and steals Jin’s mirror to inspect himself. He tilts it every which way, mouth slowly opening. “I do look kinda hot, don’t I?”

“See?” Jungkook cheers with a small pump of his fist. “We did good, right? Oh. Jin-hyung, do you need the mirror back? Wait, let us help you! We come highly recommended, Taehyung and I.”

Tuning out the others, you turn back to Namjoon. “Okay, let’s put on some stickers.”

It takes the rest of the morning for everyone to finish up, but none of you seem in a rush. Yoongi, routinely smacking his lips together to feel the texture of the gloss, starts getting different dishes together to make some lunch, and his two little helpers go over to make Jin look like the tiger mom of his dreams. Jimin can’t hide his pride at how well Hoseok’s smokey eye and peachy lip turn out, and Hoseok can’t help but admit that he likes it. Namjoon covers each nail in a thoughtfully selected and arranged sticker, and keeps cooing over them as you cover them in a clear top coat.

Finally, when all of your boys are prettied up and you’re just about to tuck in to lunch, there’s a knock at the door.

You rush up to answer, and this time it is in fact Sejin. He looks harried, chest heaving like he rushed to get here, and before you can even greet him he’s thrusting a brown paper bag towards you.

“Traffic,” he gasps out, “I’m so sorry about the wait, there was a hold-up. I got you it,” he murmurs, before raising his voice so the others - who are no doubt listening in with curiosity - can hear, “so I got you the ginger pills for your stomach, and then just some vitamins that the lady at the counter told me were good for immune systems. Take it easy. Send me a text if you need anything, or if you don’t need anything.”

His voice sounds so awash with concern, his eyes softened in sympathy even as he looks out of breath from getting back here as quickly as possible, that you throw yourself at his chest and wrap your arms around him in a quick hug. He stays frozen for a moment, then pats your back and squeezes your shoulders fondly once you pull away. “Thanks, Sejin,” you say with a smile, “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

When you shut the door lightly behind him and poke your head into the main room, where everyone’s acting like they were’t eavesdropping (Jungkook and Taehyung are thumb-wrestling, Jimin has grabbed Namjoon’s hand to inquire about the little leaf stickers, Hoseok’s turned his face a full one hundred and eighty degrees from you, staring wistfully out the window, and Jin and Yoongi share a look). “I’m just going to duck upstairs and take some of the ginger pills and the vitamins he got me, I won’t be long. You can start without me; don’t let it get cold.”

Though you try and stay calm, when you shut yourself in your bathroom, your hands are trembling. The thin cardboard box tears as you open it, a thick folded wad of instructions and warnings falling out. The longer you take, the more suspicious it is, so you just scan over them to get a general idea. Piss on a stick, you think to yourself, how hard can it be?

So nervous that your muscles lock up, it’s hard enough to actually do even that, but once you’re done, you wash your hands and the handle of the small white stick, and wait. Unable to look, you leave it on the counter and sit on the toilet seat lid, feeling your heart race a million miles a minute. Breathe.

A knock on the door makes you startle violently, a hand instinctively rising up to press against your chest. With a racing heart, you call out to ask who it is.

“It’s us,” Yoongi’s voice echoes through the door. “Me and hyung, I mean. Is it the- the test, sweetheart?”

Opening the door, you let the two men in with a silent nod, returning to your stoop. “Just waiting,” you explain when they glance at the plastic stick on the counter. Your voice has never felt so small and distant to you. It makes you want to curl into yourself and disappear.

Yoongi hovers near the test, checking his watch, but Jin immediately comes over to you, smoothing your hair back and pressing your head and shoulders against his torso. You slump into him, into the embrace that always reassures you. Jin smells still like his cooking, and breathing it in gives you some small comfort.

The three of you don’t speak. There’s nothing to say; not yet, not when you still don’t know. Yoongi stands by the test like a guard dog, not looking himself, and Jin rubs your back and strokes your hair, holding you close.

After what feels like a cold eternity, Yoongi consults with his watch again and clears his throat lightly. “Do you want to come and check, sweetheart?”

You get the thought of you leaving Jin’s hold, of going up there and taking the piece of plastic and seeing two blue lines, and you shake your head, pressing yourself more firmly against Jin. “Can you just… Can you check it and tell me?”

As Yoongi turns to pick it up, you feel yourself tense. Two blue lines, your mind chants over and over, and even as you’re terrified you’re going to somehow conjure that result by thinking too hard about it, you can’t stop.

The plastic rattles against the counter, and you’re watching his face, eyes narrowed on his expression with laser focus. He picks it up, looks at the result, and the slightest exhale gives him away. A tiny puff of breath, his shoulders dropping an inch and the line between his brows smoothing out. Your heart soars in raw relief even before he confirms, “you’re not pregnant, Y/n.”

Even though you’re happy, so grateful of fate working in your favour, the underlying fear of the past few hours comes crashing down on you like a tsunami, and you burst into tears, your whole body shivering and juddering with sobs that you muffle against the soft fabric and solid chest you’re leaning on.

“Hey, hey,” Jin’s voice calls to you in a soothing croon, “you’re okay, baby, you’re fine. You’re safe.”

The reassurance only makes you wail harder, feeling so unburdened, so unanchored, like you could float away were it not for your grip on his sleeves. He rocks you gently, back and forth as his fingers card through your hair and cradle your back. It’s not until you hear the hollow clatter of the test going in the trash can that you feel the ghost of your fear and worry leave you, and finally you go slack against him, tears dried up.

As you sit up and dab at your eyes, Yoongi passes you a tissue to properly clean yourself up and Jin pats your hair back down. “Sorry,” you pipe up with a croaky voice, “I got your shirt messy.”

Jin smiles softly and offers you a hand to stand with. “Never you mind that, young lady.” He’s quite a sight to see now; even with a soft expression, his eyeliner is sharper than the point of a knife and the imperious dark red of his lips makes anything less than a grin look pouty and dramatic. “Do you want us to let the others know you’re feeling under the weather? I can bring some food up here for you? Are you too cold? Too hot?” You giggle tearily as he lays his hand across your forehead and pinches your cheeks lightly, clucking in worry.

“I’m fine,” you reply. “I’ll take ten minutes or so to calm down a bit and then I’ll join you all. Can you just tell them I’m on the phone with a friend or something? I won’t be long.”

Jin furrows his brows. “Are you sure? If you need anything, I’m here for-”

“Hyung,” Yoongi chides gently, “let’s give her a breather.”

By the way Jin sucks in a deep breath and nods stiffly, it might be him that needs the breather. Yoongi drags him away as you thank them, and soon enough you’re once again alone in the bathroom.

Stumbling on weak legs to your bed, you all but collapse onto it, feeling totally devoid of energy. You just need a moment to recharge, that’s all. Just need a moment to acknowledge that no, there isn’t a life form inside you right now, and yes, everything can go back to normal.

And if it’s well over ten minutes by the time you make it back downstairs to reheat your portion of lunch, no one mentions it.

The afternoons are often a lazy affair in the Villa. Unless you’re off getting fucked (not uncommon, of course) you tend to hang around in the lounge with whoever’s in the mood for socialising, and put something on TV.

You’re starting to realise that perhaps there are better uses of your time, which is why when Namjoon asks how Jimin got so good at makeup, you enthusiastically accept Jimin’s generous offer to be his model.

Once again your communal area gets renovated into a mini studio fit for purpose. Two of the couches are pulled closer together, a tight arrow shape around the coffee table corner. As is often the case, Yoongi and Jin are noticeably absent, with Namjoon and Jungkook on one sofa, leaning forward in their eagerness, and Taehyung and Hoseok on the other, the younger looking like he’s just about to fall asleep on Hoseok’s shoulder.

You perch on the edge of the table between them with nervous anticipation as Jimin darts upstairs to collect his tools. “How come you’re wanting to learn, Namjoon?” you ask lightly.

The academic scratches his neck lightly, knee bumping against Jungkook’s as he shifts in place. “It’s interesting, and I love learning new things,” he states, his voice lilting up at the end.

Jungkook nudges his elbow into Namjoon’s side. “He thinks Jimin’s focusing face is hot.”

“I did not say that!” Namjoon insists, but the violent blush in his cheeks betrays him. “I enjoy watching, that’s all.”

“I’m sure you do, hyung, I’m sure you do,” Jungkook commiserates with a wise and somewhat sarcastic nod, but before Namjoon has any further chance to defend himself, you hear the thud of socked feet coming down the stairs.

Jimin’s skirt flounces around his thighs with every step as he rushes back in, a heavy-looking back held against his chest. He pauses in front of you, breathing slightly elevated. “Up you get,” he instructs.

You do so without thinking, but then stand awkwardly beside the coffee table as he takes your spot and dumps the makeup bag beside him. “Where do I sit?” you ask hesitantly, but Jimin just pats his thigh wordlessly.

Glancing out at the four onlookers, you suck in a breath and place yourself delicately on his lap, perpendicular so that your shoulder is against his chest and you’re facing Namjoon. Clearly it wasn’t what he was after, as Jimin clicks his tongue with a huff and grabs you under the knee, parting your legs so that you’re facing him, balanced on a single, stocking-clad thigh.

Your eyes widen as you’re suddenly face-to-face with him as he raises a brow at you. “Namjoon wants to learn, little mouse,” Jimin instructs, “so you’re going to be nice and still for me, right?”

You’re hyper aware of the pressure of his corded thigh against your core, even through your loose cotton shorts, and the four sets of eyes on you that are just outside your peripheral. “Yes, Jimin.”

His eyes darken in disapproval, fingers tightening on your knee. “A good doll doesn’t make any noise either,” he chastises. “Pinch me if you want out, otherwise stay still and be quiet.”

You swallow, recognising his introduction of a non-verbal safeword. But there are others watching, and he was just meant to be doing your makeup. Your eyes dart to risk a glance at the others, blurry in the very corner of your eye. They’ve gone dead still, Jungkook and Namjoon still leaned inwards towards you, Taehyung close to Hoseok but definitely no longer napping. You aren’t allowed to nod or say yes, so you give your lack of response as confirmation.

Jimin lets out a short hum and drops his gaze from you, unzipping the makeup bag. “Lots of steps in makeup have to do with personal preference,” he explains, glass, metal and plastic clattering together as he draws out a bottle. “But starting with primer is like prepping a canvas, so it’s always a solid first step.”

For a moment you’re confused, before you recall that Jimin’s teaching this all to Namjoon. He glances at the academic briefly, giving you a glimpse of his graceful side profile before he turns back and clicks open a narrow tube, piping some of the creamy formula on the back of his hand. When he dips a clean beauty blender into it, collecting it on the narrower end, you notice it glistens just slightly.

“I ran this under the tap upstairs to get it damp,” Jimin continues, and you fight the urge to flinch when you feel it begin to dab along your nose, spreading out to your cheeks. “These blenders are good because the sponginess is a good texture to make everything smooth, but they’re so absorbent that if they’re dry they’ll suck up half the product. If they’re a little damp, you won’t need as much.”

You can’t bring yourself to meet Jimin’s gaze, or even lift your eyes to his face at all, far too intimidated by the proximity. Instead, you watch the rhythmic way his chest rises and falls, rippling the Gucci logo on his white shirt. The afternoon had brought a low, hot sun, and all of you had stripped off any outer layers. Jimin was no different, ditching the jacket, and you can just make out his upper arms flexing past the short sleeves before the blender gets a little too close to your eyes, and you snap them closed.

“Once you’ve done that, I’d go in with a foundation…” Jimin lets out a small sigh through his nose. “This shade won’t really match exactly, but it’ll do. Finding the perfect shade is like finding a pair of shoes that fit just right, it can take ages but once you’ve got it, you’ve got it. Unless you go and get a tan.”

Slowly you begin tuning Jimin’s voice from coherent sentences into one smooth, lulling river. Soft whispers of brushes and cool swipes of liquid make your skin tingle, and the solid, unmoving presence of his thigh between yours anchors you in the moment.

After every step, or whenever there’s a specific technique to show off, you feel the searing heat of his fingers on you, turning your head to the side with a tight grip on your chin, displaying you to the others. Every time, that heat moves downward, pooling in your core.

“Eyes open,” a voice rings out, short with impatience.

Upon following his command, you focus on his face with a few blinks, just in time to see him come at your eyes with a narrow, pointed brush. Instinctively jerking away, you gasp when the movement causes you to grind against him slightly, pleasure blooming at the friction.

With an annoyed curl of his lip, Jimin uses the hand not holding the brush to grab your chin again, fingernails digging in and pulling you closer. “Stay still,” he hisses, and lets go after you freeze into place again.

This time, when he brings the brush back up, it goes not onto your eyes, but above onto your brows, and you remain obediently motionless as you feel the stiff brush press on something powderlike. As he explains its purpose and use to Namjoon, however - the other three watching just as intently - you don’t listen to his words, instead directing all your focus downwards.

If you move, just slightly, the smallest shift of your pelvis, you can press your clothed clit against the strip of bare skin between his skirt hem and the stockings, where the flesh is stiff with tensed muscle. You watch his face as closely as you dare, wary of a reaction, but there’s none.

It’s not much, and it’s not nearly enough, but you sate yourself on that dull pleasure as he finishes your brows, and begins working on some eyeshadow. He takes longer here, dipping into different shades with pretty names that you forget the second you hear them, because it’s riskier now, with your eyes closed again. You can’t see if he’s aware of your minute motions, but you’re too desperate to stop.

When there’s suddenly a sharp poke on your lid, your instinct takes over and you jerk back with a gasped yelp.

Jimin growls, and the noise makes you open your eyes in alarm. He’s holding a jet black eyeliner wand, and his face is tense, displeased. You even open your mouth to apologise, before quickly thinking better of it.

“Sorry for the technical difficulties, gentlemen,” Jimin states to the others stiffly. “Give me a moment to sort out my equipment.”

A rush of heat floods your core at the dismissive way he refers to you, and when you feel his hand tighten - not on your jaw, but on your throat itself - you melt into his grasp. The cold bands of his rings dig into the flesh as he inflicts just enough pressure to make your heart race.

Still able to breathe comfortably, just with that physical reminder of his strength and his control, you go pliant in his hold, eyes fluttering before they naturally settle shut.

“There we go,” Jimin murmurs, “now let me continue.”

Jimin uses your cheekbones to prop his hand up as he paints a delicate stroke of black across the bottom of each eyelid, his voice like honey as he walks Namjoon through every last detail.

The weak rutting had barely given you any relief before, but now with Jimin’s hand on your throat, it’s not even enough to keep you sane. Your brain knows there are four other people trying to watch the processes of applying makeup, but that logical part is being steadily overridden with primal need, a need that’s going unfulfilled.

Jimin has to remove his hand to show you off, then to turn your head back and reach for something else, the sticky sound of it opening, and the wet bristles that you can only just feel against the edge of your eyelids tells you it’s mascara.

“Look up,” Jimin commands shortly, tapping your temple. You follow command and glance up, curling your fingers into your own thighs to stop yourself from flinching when the wand comes so close to your eyes.

When he shows off his work this time, your eyes are finally open again, and so you find yourself facing the others properly. Namjoon’s doing a decent job of pretending he’s actually interested in the makeup, but his eyes spend too much time on the space between your legs, and Jimin’s face to be really focused. Jungkook’s got his feet up on the couch, with an arm shoved in front of his crotch, rocking against it to relieve some pressure.

On the slightly less affected couch, Hoseok sits back with his gaze hooded as he stares you down. Taehyung, shoulder-to-shoulder with the dom, has a swollen bottom lip pinned tightly under his front teeth. You don’t doubt he wishes nothing more than to be between you and Jimin right now.

Jimin pulls you back too soon, and as he retrieves the familiar short, round casing of a tube of lipstick, you can’t hold back any longer. No longer worried about accidentally being stabbed in the eye, you keep your face still but tighten your thighs around his, grinding your core against him.

You know you aren’t being subtle, but you’re beyond caring, just needing something to relieve the desire boiling over inside you.

As he uncaps the lipstick - a deep wine red that looks ridiculously expensive - he sends you a warning glare. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he chastises in a low tone.

You choose to ignore him, propping your hands on the top of his thigh, over the soft pleats of his skirt, to get better leverage, moaning between closed lips at the feeling.

“That’s disappointing,” Jimin admits, and as your heart begins to sink at his tone, his free hand lifts up once more to wrap around your neck.

This time, instead of his grip being an implication of consequence, he starts to tighten and tighten and tighten, slowly and steadily. You feel the pressure on the sides of your throat, where his fingers are, not on your voicebox, and it makes you start to feel a little hazy. He keeps going as you feel the first brush of lipstick against your parted lower lip, and there’s a heat in your face, a slight tightness. His fingers curl in more, just slight changes every time, but your brows furrow at the slight pain, and without you even reaching out to pinch him, he’s eased back to that sugar-sweet lightheadedness.

It’s easier to let your eyes flutter - not open but not quite closed either - as your lips are coated in red, hand moving with just as much case as his other. Although you can breathe, it’s thin, and you feel yourself go lax at the slight deprivation, like you’re floating above yourself. Once the cap of the lipstick clicks, his grips falls away, and you instinctively suck in a breath, your exhale sounding closer to a pleasured sigh.

You begin to sink forward, seeking out more contact as the endorphins of an oxygen rush lift you higher. Jimin hums, the lipstick clattering noisily on the coffee table as he grasps your shoulders and turns you slightly, so that you don’t faceplant into his chest. A strong hand keeps your chin up, air flowing so easily that you feel drunk on it, strength returning to your limbs.

“Isn’t my doll so pretty, Namjoon?” Jimin asks sweetly, before he ducks in and nips sharply at your earlobe, voice lowering to whisper harshly in your ear. “I only gave you two very easy, very simple commands. Be quiet and be still. And yet that’s seemingly too much to ask of you. I have no qualms about punishing you in front of everyone, little mouse. You’ve used up all your chances. If you make a single noise or move out of turn, I’ll discipline you right here without mercy.” His fingers are featherlight, tender as they turn you back to face him, pressing your foreheads together. His eyes dance in mirth, a smile playing on his lips. “Is that understood?”

You only just manage to prevent yourself from answering or nodding automatically.

Jimin laughs through his nose at the way your lips twitch, leaning back just a few inches. “That was mean of me, wasn’t it?” His smile falls in a second. “Then again, I think I’ve been going too easy on you lately. And I don’t make mistakes a second time.”

Blessedly, all he has left are delicate dustings of blush and highlighter, and some setting spray. He moves your face this way and that, tells you when to open your eyes and when to close them, and although it feels like your insides are vibrating hopelessly, you manage to keep still and silent, a perfect doll for him.

“All done.” When Jimin says those two magic words, and gives you permission to move again, you feel relief crash down on you, making your knees weak as you get up off him and collapse onto the couch in the gap between Jungkook and Namjoon.

Your relief is short-lived. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

You blink up at Jimin. “Um… You said we’re done.”

“The makeup is,” Jimin corrects, looking unbelievably intimidating even in a white t-shirt and pink cheerleading skirt. “We are not. You still deliberately disobeyed be, little mouse. You’re in trouble.”

On either side of you, Jungkook and Namjoon retreat, ducking out of Jimin’s line of sight so they can look on from the sidelines. You frown at him. “But I didn’t do it again, and you said you wouldn’t do it if I-”

“Goodness, were you so desperate that you stopped listening entirely? I said I wouldn’t discipline you in front of the others, Y/n. You haven’t earned absolution. You just get the dignity of privacy when I punish you. Go up to my room; now.”

There’s no protesting his command. There’s a safeword, or there’s obedience, and the choice is easy. You feel positively electric with arousal, excited at the concept of Jimin no longer going easy on you, and what that might entail.

You jump up, spare one glance at the four men that remain, open-mouthed on the couch, and make your way towards the stairs, Jungkook’s whines about ‘missing out’ fading away with distance.

Jimin’s room is relatively tidy, but it’s not the neatly made bed or overflowing tabletop of neatly arranged jewellery, watches and belts that catch your attention. At the foot of his bed, a heavy wooden armoire with his initials engraved is unable to ignore, a constant reminder of just how fucked you were. You didn’t know half the things he had in there, had only really experienced a few of them yourself, but something tells you that digging around inside it while you wait will just get you in more trouble; although you aren’t opposed to acting up for some extra attention, you’re in new territory with Jimin right now, and you want to get a feel for what you’re in for before you make things worse for yourself.

You’re proven right very quickly, when the door creaks behind you. “At least you know how to wait patiently,” Jimin’s voice calls in a sultry whisper. Turning around to face him, you can’t help but gulp at the glimmer in his eyes and the smirk that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That lipstick shade looks so beautiful on you, little mouse. Mind if I try it on?”

With two smooth steps, he’s upon you, a hand winding around the nape of your neck and the other keeping your chin steady as he presses his lips to yours, forceful enough that your teeth begin to dig in to the delicate flesh. You exhale roughly through your nose, a whimper stuck in your throat at the sudden contact. As plush as his lips are, he kisses you with a ferocity and coldness that has your mind reeling.

When he pulls away, your eyes flutter weakly open, and that whimper makes its way to the surface. He looks like sin personified, that deep blue hair low across his brow, exposing a narrow triangle of his forehead, a smokey eye and those lips of his, stained with red. Of course it’s not a neat application - you imagine yours must be even more ruined - but the messy smears of colour across the middle of his mouth just serve to make him look wilder, a creature of lust and raw desire. “Jimin,” you say, voice hushed like a prayer.

His eyes narrow minutely. “Did I say you could speak? On your knees, shorts and shirt off.”

You follow without hesitation, just about scratching yourself in the haste to remove your outer layer of clothing. Though your ribs practically vibrate with how fast your heart races, your skin still prickes into goosebumps now that all you wear are your panties and a bra. The fibres of the carpet, though soft, scratch against the bare skin of your knees and shins as need makes your nerves extra sensitive. You look up at him and shiver at the sight this position awards you.

You haven’t specifically drooled over his thighs before, but now that they’re bared to you, directly in your line of sight, you feel yourself grow wetter. You knew he still had the corded strength of a dancer, too, and the thought of him using that power to fuck you into the floor makes you seek out some friction, crotch pressed to your heels and rocking against them. From this angle, you can’t see up his skirt, but the fabric is thin enough to expose the bulge of his cock beneath it. Looking up further, craning your neck to see his face, you appreciate how even from below, he has a jaw that could cut diamonds - especially when he’s clenching it, like now.

Your eyes widen, taking in the tensed look of disapproval he’s giving you. With a start, you realise your hips are still rocking back and forth absentmindedly, and you freeze with an apologetic whine.

His hand comes down to stroke back your hair, deceptively lightly compared to iron lines of his face. “Oh, doll, you really can’t follow any basic commands, can you? So needy for cock that you can’t even think?” He lets out a teasing laugh, the sound like windchimes. Slowly, he trails a single finger down the side of your face, then diverts inwards along your cheekbone and pushes down against the seam of your lips, making you naturally part them. “Such a mess already,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Shall we see how much more that lipstick of yours will hold up? See how long it takes you to become just a mindless little doll for me to play with, hm? Maybe you’d behave then.”

Your eyes plead with him as he toys with your lips lazily, running that finger inside, collecting your saliva to smear it over, your cheeks a hazy red at the humiliation. It only serves to make you needier, though, as you wait for him to do something, to use you like you know he will, and judging by the grin on his face as he messes you up, you know he’s well aware of his effect on you. But good dolls don’t talk, and they don’t move on your own, and so Jimin makes you sit and wait, letting him take his time.

When he finally pulls his finger away and wipes the drool - tinged pink with the dislodged lipstick pigment - on your cheek, you could groan in relief, but he still seems in no hurry, lazily toying with the hem of his skirt as he tilts his head to the side like he’s appraising you. “Look at you, trying so hard to follow the rules,” he coos, “did you not like me calling you cockdumb, little mouse?”

You bite down on the inside of your lip to mask another whine, blinking up at him as it takes all of your effort not to grind against your heels. You can’t answer, but it seems your response was explanation enough.

“Oh, so that’s it…” Jimin grins, eyes alight with the condescending mirth that makes you feel so deliciously small beneath him. “You like it a little too much, huh? I should’ve known. I’ve been spoiling you; Tae too. In fact, I bet every guy in this house has spoilt you rotten, and now the only thing on your mind is when you’ll next get some cock..” You swallow at the way he slowly begins lifting his skirt, knuckles grazing on the skin of his thighs as more pale golden flesh is revealed. His voice is sultry, addictive. “Rest that pretty little mind of yours, little mouse, you don’t have to think about a thing. Just open your mouth and be a good doll for me, and I’ll give you what you need.”

You widen your jaw and let your tongue rest on your lower lip before he’s even bared himself to you, and he chuckles as he holds the skirt to his lower abdomen, showing off the cotton-candy pink underwear he’s donning. The satin-like fabric is so narrow across his hips and between his legs that it’s clearly not meant to contain his cock, but he doesn’t seem bothered about the precarious way the weeping tip pokes out of the skinny waistband. There’s not much time to dwell on it, or even admire it, however, because he quickly reaches in with his free hand and pushes them down, letting his cock bob free.

Your eyes grow lidded with desire as he holds himself at the base with three fingers and taps the head against your awaiting tongue teasingly, drool quickly pooling there.

Jimin grins at your needy reaction. “I’d love to tie your hands back and fuck your mouth, but I want them to be free if you need to use them,” he states lowly, before shrugging, “maybe next time. For now; open up.”

You stretch your mouth even wider, wanting to obey his every command, and feel his cock begin to fill it, the salty tang of his precum sliding over your tongue. Focusing on breathing through your nose, you fight the urge to gag. Though he takes his time, and certainly isn’t as large as some of the other members of the house, he hasn’t have any qualms about burying himself to the hilt, making your eyes tear up.

“Fuck, just like that,” Jimin curses, and your heart sings with the praise even as you struggle not to choke around the intrusion in your throat. Unsure if he wants you to properly suck him off, but knowing the last thing you should do is move without permission, you just keep your jaw as wide as possible, lips pulled back slightly to cover your teeth. As he draws back with a pleasured sigh before beginning his slow drive back in, you think Jimin’s more than happy with what he’s getting.

He takes his time, but throat isn’t exactly something that adjusts like your pussy would, and so it doesn’t get any easier to stop your gag reflex from kicking in when you feel him past the base of your tongue. You can breathe through your nose, but there are so many things to keep track of that you don’t get quite enough air to your lungs, trying to make every inhale you do manage as deep as you can.

His groans and breathy praises are enough to keep your nerves on a livewire, so turned on you could cry - and, in fact, your eyes tear up as he gently but thoroughly fucks your throat, so that when you glance up at him, he’s blurry in your affected vision. That doesn’t stop you from knowing that he’s grinning, because you can hear it in the way he assures you that you’re being “so perfect, little mouse; just drunk on cock, aren’t you?”

You groan around him in your mouth, and feel a spot of wetness on your sternum, that you don’t doubt is your drool beginning to spill over. Even as your cheeks flush with humiliation, he doesn’t tell you to suck him off, or do anything but leave your mouth wide open, and so you stare up at him with tears in your eyes and remain obediently still.

It could be a minute, it could be ten, but at one point, when your nose is pressed to the waistband of Jimin’s skirt and his hand is gently cupping the back of your head to hold you there, you become aware of a foreign presence between your legs.

It takes you a moment to recognise it, that probing pressure that quickly seeks out your clothed core, but you blink away the sheen from your eyes and and close your thighs just enough to feel the outline, and it’s the textured fabric against your skin and the teasing way he wets his lips that helps you make the connection. The object moves again, a stiff drag right over your clit, and the sudden burst of pleasure makes you choke around him, spit running down your chest now. He’s rubbing his foot against you, the foot that’s covered in pretty white thigh-high stockings.

Jimin pulls out to give you a moment to cough and splutter, and thankfully doesn’t call you out on the involuntary breaking of the rules, but you barely manage to suck in two breaths before he’s clicking his tongue at you, telling you your brief respite is over. You clear your aching throat one last time and spread your mouth wide open again, but Jimin just hums and pats your cheek. “Could my doll handle one more command? You’re doing so good, taking me well like I knew you would.”

You nod straight away before freezing at your unintentional mistake. The blue-haired man just lets out a dark chuckle, pulling his foot away. This time, you at least manage to prevent a whine, biting hard on the inside of your cheek at the loss.

“That was mean of me, wasn’t it? I understand, little mouse,” he coos, crouching in front of you so that you’re at eye-level, “I do. It must be hard for you to remember all these pesky rules and orders, isn’t that right?”

His gentle croon of sympathy cracks you once again, your need to please overriding your better judgement, and you nod again.

This time, he openly laughs, making you shiver as he runs a line through the spit that’s fallen between your breasts. “Let me give you a deal, then,” he begins, voice dripping with apparent sympathy, “I’ll take away those rules. I’ll let you move, and moan, and say my name, but only if you promise that it’s because you’re too cockdumb to follow them, hm? Can you say that for me?”

You swallow, opening your mouth to take a heaving breath. What’s worse; not being able to move, or having to admit that you’re so desperate that you can’t stay still? “I’m just c-cockdumb, Jiminnie, can’t think about anything else but feeling you inside me,” you confess, and as he strokes back your hair and smiles at you like a prized pet or small child, something beloved but not all that smart, it’s strangely freeing.

Your sex drive had skyrocketed since coming on this show, and even with having sex almost once a day, sometimes more, you found yourself missing the feeling of each guy in the house while they awaited their turn. It had been what felt like ages since the last time you actually, properly fucked him, even though it couldn’t have been a week, and you longed for it. Admitting that you were too desperate to even follow basic commands, letting yourself be reduced to a creature of need, with no coherent thoughts alleviated any shame you had about that thought. Jimin was here in front of you, skirt barely covering his spit-slicked cock, lips still a sinful wine red, and he loved your need, your desperation.

Jimin stands back up again, and makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat. “That’s my good girl,” he praises, and any scant notion of tainted dignity that remained within you flies out the window. “I shouldn’t punish you, should I? When you couldn’t help it.”

“No, Minnie,” you agree with a whine, clenching your thighs together in a poor imitation of the stimulation you briefly had, “‘couldn’t help it. You don’t have to punish me.”

“And what would you want instead, little mouse?”

You widen your eyes in plea. “Fuck me, Minnie, I’m your good girl.”

He tilts his head to the side, and it’s the bemused smile that graces his lips that makes you realise he’s not going to give you what you want. “What a shame, then,” he murmurs, his fingers delving into your hair and tightening around a fistful of it, “that I have to punish you anyway. How else will you learn?”

You gasp as he steps backwards, pulling you with him by the grip in your hair. You’re forced to stumble forward on your knees and the tips of your fingers as he sits down on the edge of his mattress and settles you in front of him. “Minnie,” you whine, your own hands reading out to clutch at the fabric of the duvet in front of you.

“Y/n,” he teases in a singsong voice, “remember that new command that I wanted from my doll?” He spreads his legs open further, and the pink miniskirt rides up to expose his cock, smeared with a deep red from your ruined lipstick, dripping with saliva and precum. The hand in your hair tugs you closer. “It’s suck.”

Jimin isn’t gentle with you this time. Now that you have the advantage of responsiveness, sucking him down and swirling your tongue, he doesn’t bother sugar-coating it, and obscene noises emerge from your mouth as you swallow, gag and choke around him. He curses, using the handful of hair like a handle, guiding you up and down.

It’s barely any time at all before you feel a familiar sensation against your soaked panties. Jimin’s stockinged foot grinds against you with so much pressure you almost want to wriggle away from it. Your nerves are so touch-starved and your clit is so swollen that the slightest touch would’ve made you shiver, but the intense way he rubs the ball of his foot over your panties has you gargling hopelessly around him, mouth going slack.

He chuckles. “Too much? I can stop if you need, little mouse, I can’t have you getting distracted from your main use.”

Your hands detach from the duvet and wrap around his calf, fingers digging in and holding him there. Rutting your hips against it, you seek out the pleasure yourself but make sure to throw your efforts twice into blowing him, making him curse when you bob on his cock faster than your hips move.

“God, you’re fuckin’ filthy,” Jimin breathes out through a groan, “humping my leg like a fucking dog. Thought Tae was the pup, not you.” You’re unprepared for the hand that shifts and slips under your jaw, tightening around your throat so that you can feel his cock even more inside you. You gag, but swallow through it, the slight restriction of air bringing back that delicious heady feeling from earlier. Jimin catches your moan, even though it’s muffled around him. “Maybe I should get you a collar, little mouse. Make sure to buckle it tight.”

The thought makes your grinding falter, and you don’t doubt he feels the sudden rush of heat between your legs, because he suddenly kicks into action himself, grinding harshly against you as you cry out gutturally around his cock.

His grip on your neck loosens only to take a hold on the back of your head again, fucking your throat to chase his orgasm. The faster he snaps his hips, cursing lowly and groaning praises, the faster he jerks his foot against you, and it’s not long before the heat is gathering in a tight coil low in your belly.

You moan around him, jaw aching and lips stretched, and suddenly Jimin twitches inside you, spilling down your throat. Quickly, he pulls his cock out, and you only get the briefest taste on your tongue before he’s rubbing his tip across your swollen lips, spreading his cum across them.

His leg slows down as he releases, but you were so close to the edge yourself, and so you feel no shame in seeking it out, grinding yourself against him as you stick your tongue out to lick your lips clean.

Jimin groans, chest heaving, but lets you rut yourself against him, cum dripping down your chin, until finally you give a violent shiver as your orgasm runs through you. It’s mellow but toe-curling, and you clutch his leg to anchor yourself through it.

“Fuck,” you gasp out, head lolling forward onto his thigh, where the stocking turns to flesh, then the soft ironed pleats of his skirt.

Jimin’s hands are in your hair, stroking it away from your messy face and brushing out the tangles. “Oh, Y/n,” he chants softly, his voice a far cry from the dom that teased you before, “I love to play with you. How are you feeling?”

You feel drained, your entire body weight collapsed against him and the bed. “Mm.”

Jimin stifles a chuckle. “Could I have a colour, my little mouse?”

“Green,” you manage, “I’m green. But are we done now? If I don’t get some lip balm on now, my lips might just fall off.”

“Indeed we are,” he confirms, and bends down to slip his arms under yours, picking you up off the floor with ease. “As much as I love you being drunk off desire, I miss my clever, sweet, cheeky girl.”

Even with your body screaming in exhaustion, barely able to help him get you laid down on his bed and tucked under the duvet, your cheeks heat in a blush. “Don’t compliment me when I’m vulnerable, that’s cheating.”

“I’ll save them for later, then,” Jimin bargains with a tired smile, before he gets up and cringes, looking down. “As much as I’d love to collapse into bed for a nap with you right now, my sock is drenched thanks to you.”

Your eyes fly wide, and you manage to pull yourself up enough to glance over the side. Jimin isn’t kidding. All over the toes and top of his foot are dark patches in the stocking, clinging to his skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say with a wince.

“Don’t be,” Jimin assures, stripping it off with two fingers hooked into the fabric, “it was hot at the time. It just, uh, feels weird when it’s gone cold.”

Half the blood in your body has probably rushed to your face as you cover it with an embarrassed whine, burying yourself deeper in the sheets. “Maybe if you fucked me, I wouldn’t have gotten your sock wet,” you mutter petulantly, shamelessly deflecting.

“I’ll know better next time,” he quips, a grin evident in his voice. By the time you poke your head back up, he’s stripped down to just his white Gucci shirt, his bottom half totally bare as he retrieves a pair of boxers from the set of drawers. Stepping into them with no qualms about the temporary nudity - though, you suppose it would be stranger for him to be camera shy - he glances back over his shoulder. “And as much as I love to fuck you, we have just enough time for a cuddle before dinner. I miss you.”

Your heart warms, eyes soft. “Jimin,” you croon softly, “come here.”

He smiles, but hesitates. “Could I- I’m just- Should I text Tae?” he asks, lips twisting in uncertainty, still tinted a faded red. “I’m pretty sure nobody’s getting suspicious, and it’s not like we’re technically-”

“Text him,” you instruct with a beam. “I miss having you both close. We live in the same house; it sucks having to stay so separate.”

With how quickly Taehyung bundles into Jimin’s room after he sends the text, he must not have been far. He’s on you in a second, jumping onto the bed with enough vigor that the springs creak, and wriggling under the duvet beside you.

You seek him out with as much earnestness, if not enthusiasm, and hum happily when he lies back to let you rest your head on his chest. The bed creaks again, and Jimin’s body heat warms your back, his arm slung over your waist.

“It’s about time,” you hear Taehyung’s voice say, echoing through his chest, “I’ve been cuddling with one of Jin’s plushies these past few nights. It’s a sorry substitute for a whole human to snuggle.” He pauses to lift his chin, glaring imperiously at the blinking camera in the top corner of the room. “I missed having platonic cuddles with my friend Y/n. Cuddling is a favourite non-sexual pastime of mine.”

You giggle, curling into him and inhaling his comforting scent, like brown sugar or caramel. “I think you’re good, Tae.”

“Can we sleep now?” Jimin whines as he holds you tighter, face buried in the crook of your neck as he huffs. “I just had the soul sucked out of me.”

“I know, I know,” Taehyung grumbles, and if the comment strikes you as odd, it only takes the steady heartbeat and low hum of his breathing to blur the thought from your mind as you let yourself drift off.

Yoongi glances worriedly over his shoulder, ear straining to hear past the glass sliding door.

“They’re occupied,” Jin reminds, “besides, I doubt they can hear us all the way out here. Did we really have to come out to the patio just for a talk? It’s hot out here.”

The doctor shrugs, placing the package of fresh sliced beef onto the tabletop. “We’re having a barbecue tonight. At least this way we can pretend we were just getting set up.”

Jin narrows his brows, eyes softening in concern. Quickly, Yoongi drops his gaze, knowing it’ll just make him weak. “Yoongichi, talk to me. What’s up? What’s got you so nervous?”

Yoongi swallows. Thinks of what he rehearsed, of what he’d written in the notes app of his phone, read over and over that morning. This has been fun, but we’re kidding ourselves. Or maybe he’d skip the pretense and avoid beating around the bush. I can’t keep having sex with you while my feelings are on the line. “Um… A lot happened today. With Y/n.” Maybe he can beat around the bush a little bit, just to work up his courage.

“That it did,” Jin responds slowly, leaning against the outdoor dining table. Yoongi takes one of the wooden chairs, nails digging into the arms as he feels tension stiffen his body. “Though it seems like the others are doing a fine enough job of keeping her mind off it.”

Yoongi doesn’t miss the bitter tone in Jin’s voice. “Are you jealous? Of them, I mean.”

“Of course not,” the therapist answers immediately, “I have no right to be. She’s a free woman, and this is just a show.”

He frowns, heart sinking. “You said you wouldn’t lie to me about her, hyung. We started this so that you had an outlet. Physical or otherwise.”

Jin pauses for a moment. “I don’t think she would’ve told me,” he says finally, “if I wasn’t already there when part of it happened. If you hadn’t have asked me to look after her. She hasn’t told the others. Not even Namjoon, I don’t think.”

“And that bothers you?”

“It shouldn’t bother me,” Jin deflects.

Yoongi doesn’t miss a heartbeat. “That’s not an answer.”

Jin lets out a hollow laugh. “Since when you get so smart?”

Upon hearing those words, Yoongi feels a sudden shard of glass cut deep inside him, enough to make him wince. “I was always smart,” he replies stiffly. “I wasn’t dumb before I started fucking you, Jin. I didn’t get emotional intelligence through osmosis.”

At least Jin has the good grace to look pained. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to say you weren’t, I phrased that poorly. I just meant…” He trails off, seeking out the right words. “I suppose I’m realising how much you’ve learnt about me in the time we’ve been spending together lately. I feel like I don’t know much about you.”

Maybe because you don’t care about me like I care about you, Yoongi wants to say. Maybe because you only think about Y/n these days. “You could always ask,” he says instead, and curses himself for the pathetic way his voice wavers in the air.

Jin’s brows furrow deeper, and his hand begins to rub against his thigh. Self-soothing, Yoongi knows. Jin always started stroking at his own thigh when he was stressed. “It’s probably good that you asked to have this talk. I’m not sure this is best for both of us. I appreciate how you’ve stuck by me, and the support you’ve given me-” Yoongi wonders why he doesn’t just call it like it is, fucking, “-but it really seems like it’s doing more harm than good for you. Maybe we should put an end to this, Yoongichi.”

Yoongi sucks in a breath. He came out here to say that. He came out here to end it. But hearing it from Jin’s lips, it sounds abhorrent to think of. “Don’t,” Yoongi blurts without thinking, nails digging into the wood, “don’t take it all away from me just based on that. I know what I have with you, Jin, and I know that right now it isn’t ideal, but it’s better than nothing!”

Jin’s brows knit together as he shakes his head. “I don’t think this is healthy. It was irresponsible of me to lean on you in the first place, but I swear you aren’t just a substitute for Y/n. I care about you, Yoongi, it’s why I came to you.”

“You came to me because you knew I’d say yes,” Yoongi corrects, a sad smile on his face. “Because you knew how I feel. It’s just my shitty luck that you don’t feel the same. I mean, I’m crazy about you, you’re crazy about Y/n, fuck, I’m even starting to- starting to think about her and me like that too, and…” He takes a breath, feeling like a speeding train about to run out of tracks. “And I know Jimin and Tae and Jungkook are all head over heels for her and each other, Namjoon just about worships the ground she walks on, Hoseok looks at most of the people in this house like he wants to eat them alive in the best way possible, and it’s just- All these feelings are all over the place and it just seems cruel that you couldn’t just like me. To want me to still be in your bed when you wake up, to want to cook for me not just with me, to maybe kiss when we fuck, I don’t know, it’s-” Yoongi forcefully cuts himself off before he digs that particular hole any deeper. “I guess the odds just aren’t in my favour here. Do you even like men? Romantically, I mean? A good fuck is fine, but-”

“I do, yes,” Jin says with a wince.

Yoongi’s heart sinks. “Just me then,” he surmises in a hollow tone. “That’s okay.”

Jin frowns. “I’m not entirely sure what you wanted to achieve with this conversation,” he says, in a voice so soft it could shatter, in a voice that sounds like he’s worried Yoongi might be the one to shatter, “but it sounds like whether you want to admit it or not, this friends with benefits thing just isn’t right for us. There’s too many loose strings and it’s getting messy.” Yoongi goes to butt in, but Jin isn’t done, raising his brows to get him to pause. “I want to be fully honest with you, Yoongi. I don’t think it’s wise for you to put your wellbeing on the line for a possibility. We should end this.”

There’s a part of Yoongi that’s writhing in relief, at seeing a light out of the cave, an escape. But that part of Yoongi is drowned out by the majority of his being, the part that can’t bear a goodbye. “It’s not messy,” Yoongi blurts against his better judgement, “I told you I’d keep my feelings out of this and I will. I want to fuck you, hyung, and you want to fuck me, and I see no reason to stop when I’m perfectly fine.”

“Are you?” Jin asks dubiously. “I’m not going to continue this a moment further if I feel like you’re suffering because of this, Yoongi. It would be wrong of me.” He opens his mouth to continue, but is interrupted by a swooshing noise.

Yoongi jumps and whirls around just as Jungkook hops through the sliding door, grinning at the two of them. Yoongi sighs, relieved it seemed like the kid hadn’t heard anything. “This is a private conversation, Jungkook.”

“Is that, like, your code?” the youngest asks. “Wait, doesn’t matter. Anyway; I want in.”

Jin frowns. “You what?”

Jungkook’s smile just grows wider, exposing his teeth. “I want in, hyung, you two always sneak away to fuck, so I’ve come to join. I brought supplies.”

Yoongi’s mouth drops open as the black-haired boy pulls his hand out of his pocket to reveal a fistful of condom packets. “Do you just carry those around in hope, or…?”

“I specifically went upstairs to get them,” Jungkook announces proudly. “So can I join the sex pact now?”

Jin pinches his brow. “There is no sex pact, Jungkookie, and now’s really not a great ti-”

“You can join, Kookie,” Yoongi interrupts, ignoring the disbelieving stare Jin sends him. The older man wanted to be assured that Yoongi was fine? He could do that. “Come sit on my lap.”

Jungkook looks like a kid on Christmas morning as he scrambles over, shoving the condoms back in his pocket. He clambers onto Yoongi’s lap with a touch of clumsiness, but settles in proudly, back against his chest. Automatically, Yoongi wraps his arms around him, low over his hips like a seatbelt.

Jin still seems to disapprove, hand dipping below the table to rub at his leg again. “This isn’t a good idea,” he says with a frown, “things will get messy if we start involving more people.”

Yoongi grins, leaning forward to press chaste kisses against Jungkook’s neck, making him giggle and squirm. Proving he was fine was one thing, but making Jin jealous? Making him feel what Yoongi had felt every time he gushed about Y/n? Yoongi wouldn’t turn an opportunity like that down. “Come on, hyung,” he coos teasingly, one of his hands lazily pressing down on Jungkook’s quickly-stiffening bulge, “our pretty boy just wants to play. If you aren’t interested, I’ll just fuck him myself.”

Jin’s eyes flare, watching Jungkook wriggle in Yoongi’s lap as he begins to suck a trail of hickies over the sensitive flesh. “I’m sure we’ll give him a better time together,” he says in a gravelly voice, and gets up out of his chair, stalking over to the pair. “But first, don’t you want to put on a show?”

Yoongi lifts his head up as Jin’s fingers brush over his cheek, and in a moment he’s being kissed with bruising intensity, all tongue and teeth. Jungkook whines and clutches at Yoongi’s shoulder, wanting in, but Jin’s lips taste like possessiveness and jealousy, and Yoongi thinks they’ve never been so sweet.

#cypherwritersnet #bts smut #bts x reader #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jin smut #jin x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #ot7 smut #ot7 x reader

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its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons · 4 years

Text

Missed You Too

Pairing: Lucifer x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: relationship neglect? swearing? luci is a lil mean in the beginning, emotional reader, fem reader, kissing

A/N: some self-indulgent fluff/angst after a REALLY long week :o

It was the last week of the semester and everyone in the House of Lamentation could feel it, especially when Lucifer came storming down the steps and slapped schedules down to the minute in front of each person at the breakfast table on Monday morning.

As the week progressed, you could see the sleep-deprivation and stress in his posture and expression and began to get worried, not to mention the fact that you hadn’t even received a simple kiss on the cheek from him in at least 4 days.

He was much shorter with his siblings as well, he spent meals in his office rather than at the table, he slept next to you in bed instead of you being the little spoon or a koala, and every attempt you made to help him relax was met with a prompt, curt response and a smooth mahogany door being shut in your face.

You bit your lip in frustration at his antics, crossing your arms after another rejected attempt to get him to cuddle with you, and stomping back to your shared room to steal his pillow and get some sleep.

After tossing and turning in the lonely bed for hours, you looked at your DDD. It was around one in the morning, yet no Lucifer in sight. Glaring at his empty, cold side of the bed, you got up in a huff and returned to his office door, knocking primly.

“Yes, dearest?” He asked, opening the door.

His hair was a mess, as though he’d been running his hands through it for the last 4 hours (which he had) and he looked like an extremely irritated raccoon, “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Come to bed Luci, I miss you.”

“Go to your room and go to sleep, MC. Can’t you see I’m a little busy at the moment?” He responded, just short of a growl.

You wilted. He didn’t miss you?

“Can I at least sit with you while you work? It’s been so long since we’ve been together for more than a minute and I just…”

“Just what? Spit it out.”

You cringe at the sharpness of his tone and shift your weight with downcast eyes, “I-I want you to hold me.”

Too engrossed in your socked feet, you didn’t notice, but Lucifer’s expression softened. You were right, it had been a few days since you’d gotten some alone time. He had a budget report to construct anyway and your warmth and company would be appreciated.

You almost squealed when he scooped you into his arms, silenced by a long, breath-stealing kiss as he shut the door with his foot and walked back to his seat, only then releasing you to gasp for breath.

He’d missed this.

“One more,” You pleaded, a beautiful flush rising in your face as you clung to his uniform, “Just one more kiss Luci, I’m beg-”

You didn’t have to tell him twice.

His lips were on yours before you could finish, silencing you a second time.

This time, when he pulled away to breathe, you were crying. Lucifer littered your wet cheeks with feather-light kisses and pressed his forehead to your own, gently rocking your sobbing form against him in hopes of pacifying your tears.

Your fingers curled into the soft black hair at the base of his neck and your other hand clutched at his back as a whispered declaration of love tickles your ear over and over again, and you feel whole again.

“I’m so sorry, love… I haven’t been very attentive.” He murmurs, “How can I make it up to you?”

“I-I don’t need you to be attentive,” You sniffle as Lucifer dabs at your cheeks with his handkerchief, “I just don’t want to be completely cut off. I… I love you so much and I miss you all the time. I guess I got a little overwhelmed with school a-and work, plus you were avoiding me s-so…” You trail off, “I just got lonely.”

He smiles gently, kicking himself for avoiding you, for he had been with good reason. He himself had noticed how sharp his words sounded when he spoke to his family. To avoid speaking to your gracious little heart in such a manner, he stopped speaking to you altogether, having the opposite effect he intended.

“I think we both did,” His heavy, soothing baritone rolled over you like a tidal wave, washing your fears away, “But understand that hurting you was never my intention. I… I have a habit of being extremely curt and sharp with my siblings during these times and I wanted to spare you.”

“I know,” You card your fingers through his hair and let your eyes take in his looks for the nth time, yet they never ceased to take your breath away, “And to make it up to me, you can let me make you a snack and go to sleep, but I have to be in your arms.”

You crossed your arms, meeting his tired, ruby gaze. “You need it Luci. I’m not gonna make you admit it, but if you’re not in the kitchen in 10 minutes I’ll… um-”

Pursing your lips, you tried to think of a suitable punishment for the demon.

After struggling for several moments, you gave up, “W-Well I guess you’ll find out if you don’t!”

With that, you pecked him on the forehead and scampered to the kitchen as quietly as possible so as not to awaken a demon or six.

Little did he know that in the time it took him to get downstairs you had soothed one of Beel’s stomach aches, helped a sleepwalking Mammon get back into bed, and warm some milk for Levi so he could fall asleep better. (He’d been testing a horror game demo for a gaming company and it had shaken him up so bad he’d gone to find MC, who he knew would understand and comfort him despite their normie status)

When the Avatar of wrath did amble down the steps and into the kitchen with a blanket around his shoulders, he found you making him his favorite food.

Coming up behind you, he placed ungloved hands on your hips and buried his face in your neck, “If you keep this up, you’ll wake Beelzebub. You know how he can’t resist your cooking.” (because this MC knows how to cook, ok? Idc what the creators think, i can cook >:(

He felt the shudder that wracked your body at the breath on your neck, the voice in your ear, and the touch on your hips and pulled you close as you let his snack fall onto a plate.

“Save the hickies for bed, love.” You murmur, “Eat.”

Despite your protests, Lucifer pulls your body into his lap for safe keeping while he eats, one large hand resting on your back to hold you in place.

When finished, he rises, holding you against his stomach and wrapping his makeshift cloak around you as well and carries you up the steps to his room.

Once comfortably settled under the sheets, Lucifer whispered the words you’d been longing to hear since asking him to go to bed.

“I love you so much my dove.”

“I love you too Lucifer.”

#lol my mom wouldn't like that #obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #lucifer #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #lucifer obey me #lucifer x reader obey me #obey me #lucifer x mc #obey me!

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cotccotc · 4 years

Text

┈┈ 𝐬𝐤𝐳 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 *:･ﾟ

✩ ot8 reaction headcannon, 2.5k words (eek sorry)

✩ genre/s: **fluff**, humor, established relationship, ot8 x gender neutral!reader

✩ warning/s: MOBILE TUMBLR HATES ME (some gifs & author’s note might not appear),,,, my terrible sense of humor/commentary, a couple of them are suggestive if you s q u i n t

✩ a/n: idk if the concept makes any sense but it does in my mind \_( ‘-’ )_/ also seungmin’s part is the exact same kinda similar to a brief scenario in my txt soobin “brightest blue” fic... but it’s fineee. also i’m sorry that some are longer than others! enjoy :))

chan:

chan is definitely extremely interested in the music you listen to.

in fact, sometimes he’d probably insist that you show him your current playlist from start to finish lol.

i can imagine y’all hanging out at the dorms, maybe even mid-cuddle, listening to some of your recent favorites.

but there’s this ONE SONG--

your absolute JAM

you get up from your seat or the bed and start completely jamming out.

he stays where he is so he can watch you have the time of your life.

i guess nobody told him you’re a professional lip syncer… awk...

you grab a hairbrush and hold it up like it’s a microphone.

honestly you’re thriving,,

he’s kinda stunned. not in a bad way, but he’s just so mezmorized by how cute (and maybe a lil sexy) you are when you dance like no one’s watching.

there’s a particularly awesome beat drop toward the end of the song, which leads you to do some equally awesome head banging.

he’s cackling at this point, which drives you to act even sillier.

*ending pose*

once the song ends and you’re trying to catch your breath, he slowly starts clapping for you.

“the song was great, but the performance was even better,” he’d say, coming off a bit sarcastic. but he means well!

you start to get a bit self-conscious and shy as you put yourself together again.

he’ll try to comfort you, standing up to wrap you in a hug.

“don’t be embarrassed!” (cue soft chan),

“baby that was awesome”,

“you should join a rock band!”, etc.

overall, he’d love it when you share your music taste, and this event will probably set off a chain reaction of similar jam sessions in the future.

minho:

ok so we all know minho’s a cat person, blah blah blah...

but what if you got super excited about a really cute dog?

let’s say you’re on a walk at a park, holding hands, and talking.

all of a sudden you see someone walking their dog…

and when i tell you this is the cutest, tiniest dog on the face of the earth,,,

you immediately stop walking and squeeze minho’s hand. you point to the dog and start freaking out because it’s so cute.

he’d say something silly like, “what are you talking about? it looks like a rat.”

you disregard it because you’re just so excited about this puppy!

“can we pet it?” you ask.

“... fine” he replies, smiling at you, despite his attempts to act uninterested.

y’all go over to the woman walking her dog and ask if you can pet the puppy. when she says you can pet him, you immediately sit on the ground, ready to have the best puppy playdate of your life.

minho’s still standing, watching you with loving eyes.

of course, you start talking to the puppy as if he’s a baby. minho laughs, trying to stifle all the uwus emanating from his heart

the puppy climbs onto your lap and licks your face just a little bit.

you look up at minho with wide eyes, saying “awww, isn’t he so cute!”

he’d playfully roll his eyes because why would he cheat on cats like that…

then you tug on his hand, motioning for him to sit with you. he does, reluctantly.

you place the puppy on his lap to see what happens.

the dog loves him! (of course, because what living thing wouldn’t love lee minho?)

the puppy is licking minho all over as he makes faces of disgust and struggles to pull him away.

you laugh out loud, happier than ever at the two very good boys in front of you.

he smiles again, completely endeared with your excitement despite being covered in puppy spit...

so, it doesn’t matter what kinds of animals you two prefer, since you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. (aww)

changbin:

i feel like changbin is the type to not be ashamed of/shy about showing you the songs he’s writing.

...except for right now.

he just got home from the studio, dropping his bag onto a table… but some papers fall out.

you attempt to grab the papers, but changbin stops you and grabs them himself instead with a subtle hint of nervousness.

pretty suspicious if you ask me.

“what’s up?” you ask, a bit confused about what just happened.

he’d try to play it off like nothing suspicious was going on, but you know his poker face.

it’s too cute not to notice.

he likes to play all tough but you (and everyone else tbh) know him better than that.

you go to grab the papers, but he steps away. you try again… and again, and again, and again.

you become increasingly more frustrated and impatient with each attempt, until changbin holds them up high in the air where you can’t reach them. he has a look on his face that says ‘haha! gotcha!’

you’ve never done this much jumping in your life.

but you’re not a quitter.

“okay… i give up,” you say, returning to a stationary position and placing your arms around his neck.

however, just as he lowers his hands to your waist, you snatch the papers!

“AHA!” you exclaim.

all he can say is “damn it!” as you scramble to the couch with the papers in your hand. you sit facing away from him, attempting to speed-read the lyrics sprawled across the pages.

he follows you to the couch, trying to take the papers back from behind.

“binnie, these are so good!!”

“thanks… but were they worth betraying your innocent boyfriend?”

“yes. every word.” you finally hand him back the papers with a smirk.

he’d curse under his breath, ditching the papers in favor of tickling you instead.

what a terrible punishment!

hyunjin:

we all know hyunjin is a drama queen,,

you can be a bit of a dramatic person yourself (who isn’t?).

so when you lose your favorite sweater, you’re immediately going on a wild goose chase around the dorms, because that’s where you had it last.

you’re practically talking to yourself. double checking everywhere you’d been. retracing your steps like a mad person.

you need this sweater!!

you let out a little “urgh!” as you begin getting frustrated.

hyunjin would ask what’s wrong, and when you tell him, he’d GASP.

he’d be like:

“have you checked under the bed?”

“the couch?”

“what about over here?”

“over there?”

this boy will not REST until the sweater is back in your possession, wasting no time in matching your level of concern/dramatics...

… if not exceeding it.

y’all have practically torn the whole room apart at this point.

until finally, you find it in a random drawer (of course smh)

“I FOUND IT!” you’d exclaim, flopping onto the bed and putting the sweater on,

to which you’d receive a “YAY!” in return

tired and leaning against a wall, he’d say something like, “thank GOD! now, why do you need it so bad?”

and you’d simply and softly respond, “... i got chilly~”

he wouldn’t give a verbal response, but his face would go from relaxed to ‘bruh’.

you knew he’d be shocked at your statement, but you choose to tease him instead with a smile.

he would then opt to tackle you in the bed, fumbling with the covers and vowing to make you as warm as humanly possible.

jisung:

jisung definitely loves showing you the music he’s been working on, just like changbin.

except… this time, the lyrics aren’t necessarily what you’re used to hearing.

you can tell jisung’s a bit nervous as he presses play, choosing to keep his eyes on the floor as he nods his head to the rap.

you’re listening intently, as curious and excited as you are every other time…

but then you realize that it’s about you……

the lyrics talk about letting someone into his life and his longing to be even closer to that person than he is now.

therefore,,,, u w u

you giggle, which prompts him to look up at you almost immediately with anticipation about your reaction.

you decide to wait until the end of the song to react, but you can already feel the excitement bubbling up inside of you.

the song ends, and you’re sitting in silence alongside jisung. “so… what did you think?”

“well… i think…” you trail off, looking into jisung’s eyes.

with a bit of a squeal you leap up from your seat and essentially attack him.

you straddle his legs (don’t get any *ideas* this is FLUFF for goodness sake) and wrap your arms around his neck, locking him into a big hug.

“i love it, baby. so, so, so, much,” you respond quickly and genuinely.

he laughs, his arms wrapping around you.

he’d probably remark, “you scared me for a second!”

you laugh in response, apologizing for your delayed reaction.

deep down, he’d feel so relieved that you liked the song and its sentiment.

he’d also be so happy to have you, his overexcited sweetheart, in his arms.

however, at the surface, he’d prefer to tease you. “next time, don’t make me wait so long!”

felix:

ok so y’all send memes and tik toks back and forth all day every day. it’s just protocal.

also,,, you could literally be in the same room, and he’d still just start sending you tik toks he’d saved just to send to you and see your reaction.

but there’s this o n e

you can’t quite explain why but when you watch the tik tok that your boyfriend sent you from across the couch, you laugh harder than you’ve ever laughed before.

whatever humor you may have, this tik tok completely encompasses it in a beautiful, stupid way.

before you know it, you begin cackling.

felix knows that you’ve always been a bit embarrassed of your laugh (who isn’t, right?), so when you start letting loose he’s a bit caught off guard.

still, he joins in (at a smaller scale, of couse).

he always wants to see you happy, but this is a whole new level of cuteness in his eyes.

your laughter subsides a bit...

until you decide to watch the tik tok again.

believe it or not, it’s even funnier the second time!

you double over, laughing so hard that no sound is even coming out of your mouth.

“are you okay?!” he’d ask, laughing harder now at your actions.

he’d put his arms around you so he could hold you up.

you’d mouth out a “no” in response.

there are practically tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

he’d continue looking down at you with a beaming smile, holding you up until your laughter comes to a full stop.

“was it really that funny? i can’t even make you laugh like this.”

you’re almost dazed, your stomach hurting (in the best way possible). you try to steady your breathing.

after a few seconds of recovery, he’d whisper in your ear with a deep, silly voice...

“...wanna watch it again?”

it’s safe to say you won’t fully recover for a while.

seungmin:

on days off, you watch dramas with seungmin to take both of your minds off of work/school/whatever’s been keeping you busy.

however… of course you can’t go a whole episode without laughing hysterically, and it’s all because of seungmin.

it could be the most dramatic, intense, or heartbreaking scene in the show but he would make it into a full blown impersonation comedy routine.

ESPECIALLY if the drama is in a foreign language.

this boy will reinact all of the subs in the stupidest way possible.

but, today he’s a bit exhausted, snuggling up against you and not saying much.

our boys work too hard :(( (but wbk)

...so you decide to take his place.

you start off kind of hesitantly, waiting to see if he’d even react. when the main characters start to have an argument, you begin reading the subtitles in a silly voice.

you hear a soft giggle from your boyfriend has be tightens his arm’s grip around your waist.

you begin to use different voices for each of the two characters, alternating between a nasly, high pitched one and a lower one with voice cracks. this makes seungmin laugh harder, going from a giggle to his usual open-mouthed chuckle.

he’s so cute >_< ,,anyways…

as the scene intensifies, so does the volume of your impersonations.

“yOu’Ve bEtRaYeD mE!”

“BuT yOu LiEd tO mE!”

at this point seungmin is cackling despite his heavy eyes and unwillingness to move. he’d be so caught up in your routine that he’d forget he was even tired.

you look up at him to see that big smile and those sparkly eyes you love so much, which motivates you to be even goofier!

you sit up, leaving seungmin’s grasp. you begin making hand gestures to match your overdramatic tone.

the scene comes to a climax, in which you recite the final line with more ferver and fake passion than ever before. you finish it off with a fist in the air for ~emphasis~.

as you hold this pose, you hear your loyal audience member begin to cheer for you. he claps, whisper-shouting “ahh” to create fake crowd noises.

“what a show!” he would commend you with an expression of sarcastic awe on his face.

you’re really glad you decided to cheer him up…

but not nearly as glad as he is to have you with him on a day like this.

jeongin:

jeongin’s smile could literally melt anyone’s heart. everybody knows this.

i don’t care who you are, if you see jeongin smile, you either smile or cry and there are no other options.

i don’t make the rules.

so, when he shows you the ‘lovestay’ version of his latest dance practice, you’re bound to go insane with adoration.

as soon as his solo comes up and the camera zooms in on his sweet, smiling face, you give his cheek a little poke

you say, “that’s you!”

“shut up,” he’d respond, giggling.

“wait, i missed something,” you say with a sense of urgency. you take the phone from his hands, rewinding a few seconds.

he’d roll his eyes at you, getting a bit shy.

you resume the video until the boy in the video holds up a finger heart, at which point you press pause.

“look how cute!” you exclaim, looking up at jeongin and pointing back and forth between him and the screen.

“stop it!” he’s blushing (and you’re screaming internally at how cute he is) as he tries to refrain from making a big smile.

you poke his side, resulting in a small fit of laughter that forces his bright grin to peek out.

he swats your hand away, putting his arm around you

(partly to show his affection and partly to make you hold still)

you place your head onto his shoulder, resuming the video for the final time. “you’re too cute. i can’t help it.”

“but you’re the cutest...” he murmurs, almost inaudibly to someone who isn’t as close to him as you are now.

heat rises in your face.

you: “...stop…”

him: “hah!”

touché...

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calmsweetcreature · 4 years

Text

Showered in Your Love

Okay folks so this is the first thing I’ve posted in a while and I hope you enjoy!! Send me feedback pretty please and send prompts as I want to really get back into it!

Prompt: Showering or Bathing w/ The Lads <3

Warnings: A lil angst, a lil smut here or there - you know the drill!

Luke

You could hear Luke singing in the shower, his voice belting out over the steaming water. You led against the pillows, your naked body wrapped in the soft bed sheets as you listened to your boyfriend, your eyes taking a moment to focus. It’s safe to say you were both a tiny bit hungover after the music event you went to last night and you knew today would not in any way be a busy one. You climb shakily out of the bed, stumbling slightly and knocking a cup off the table next to the bed and you hear Luke’s singing abruptly stop.

“Everything okay sweetheart?” You hear the worry in his voice as you walk to the bathroom, your head beginning to hurt.

“I’m okay, just a bit delicate this morning.” Your voice comes out surprisingly croaky and you groan as you push through the ajar bathroom door.

The glass (glass or glass?) is steamed up but you can see the outline of Luke and the thought of your steamy wet boyfriend made you say ‘yes please.’

“Come in here for some delicate loving then.” You smile at Luke’s words, carefully opening the door to the shower and sliding in. You connect your eyes with Luke’s and you both smile lovingly at each other. You stand on the tips of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck as his slide around your waist, his hands sliding down to the back of your thighs.

“Last night was fun.” Your voice is returning to normal as you press your lips against the wet skin of Luke’s shoulder. You squeal softly as his hands lift you, pressing your back against the cool tiles as he hooks your thighs around his hips.

“It certainly was, I particularly liked your one woman rendition of Easier in the Uber home.” You blush at his words, burying your face in his chest to muffle your instruction to ‘shut up’.

His lips start trailing soft kisses along your collarbone and up your neck until he reaches your ear where he starts singing softly in your ear. You rest your cheek against his as you listen, one hand trailing over his shoulder blades as the other tangles in his hair as you enjoy being pressed up against each other as steam fills the room.

Calum

You slam the door shut behind you as you walk into the house, dropping your bag and kicking off your shoes.

“Cal? I’m so sorry I’m late, they kept me late and traffic was a nightmare.” You walk through the house, looking for your boyfriend. Your heart clenches in your chest at the thought that he might be waiting for you at the restaurant. Tears fill your eyes at the thought of Cal checking his phone and waiting for your arrival to celebrate being together for a year. You walk into your bedroom, exhaustion heavy on your shoulders. With your back to the bathroom door and the tension in your body you don’t hear the door swinging softly open.

“Happy Anniversary doll.” You spin around to see Calum leaning in the doorframe, a glass of wine in his hand and a soft smile on his lips.

You gasp softly at the sight of him, dressed only in a pair of baggy shorts he looks as handsome as ever with his muscled arms on display.

“My love I’m so sorry, I know we had a table booked and I was meant to finish early but they needed me and I” Cal shushes you, holding his arms open for you to rush into, his one hand holding the wine out behind you, careful not to spill it as he interrupts your words.

“I’d called already to check if you’d left yet when I didn’t hear off you, when they said there was a situation needing to be dealt with I knew you weren’t going to be home early. However, I did ask your lovely work friend to call me when you left so I could set something up for you.” He pulls away and steps back, allowing your eyes to look over the bathroom. Fairy lights adorn the walls, a few carefully placed candles set up around the room, filling it with a soft glow. Your eyes hone in on the large jacuzzi bath, a bath bomb fizzing away making your favourite scents fill the room. You gasp as you take everything in, looking to see Cal chewing on his lip as he waits for your reaction.

“Oh Cal I love it! Thank you so much!” You fall into his arms again, planting a kiss on his lips as your wrap your arms around his neck. You nuzzle your head in his neck as he kisses the top of your head lovingly.

“Thought we could have a soak with some wine and then get some food delivered? Curl up in bed with Duke and relax?” You nod against his neck and he chuckles softly. You move your hands down his body and start pushing his shorts down impatiently. A full belly laugh leaves him and he uses his free hand to remove one of yours, placing the wine glass in your hand. You take a sip, eyeing his body as he takes off his shorts, throwing them over your shoulder. You take a step towards the bathroom counter to set down your wine. You undress, your eyes connecting with Calum’s the whole time. He sinks into the tub first, beckoning you over with his fingers (you’ve all seen the videos, gets me every fucking time). You climb into the tub, your back to Calum’s chest as you lean back in the warm water. You let out a groan as the heated coloured water relaxes your muscles. You rest your hands on Calum’s legs under the water. One of his arms rests on the edge of the tub, his other hand sliding over the inside of your thigh causing a tightness in your stomach as your head falls back onto his shoulder. You lie in silence for a while as Cal’s ‘Chilled Days and Sexy Nights’ playlist plays in the background. The bathroom mirror starts to fog up as Calum’s hand slips higher up your thigh as your gasps and breathy moans start to overtake the sound of the music.

Ashton

You slam the car door shut and walk up the driveway, unlocking the door aggressively and swinging it open.

“Oh yeah real mature.” You can hear Ashton’s words from behind you and you swirl around, holding your middle finger up at the man walking up to the house after you.

“Sorry what was that? I couldn’t hear you over my jealousy!” You knew you were being ridiculous but you couldn’t help it, you felt embarrassed and pissed and you just wanted the night to be over.

You stormed towards the bathroom, stripping off as you walk and you could hear Ashton cursing under his breath as he walked after you.

“Y/N you’re being ridiculous! Stop being a brat.” You can hear the warning in his voice and it spurs you on, turning to face him as you get to the bathroom door.

“Fuck. You. Irwin.” You walk into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and getting into the shower.

You had been out to food with the boys and their partners, the night had been going swimmingly until a waitress had seemed to take a keen liking to your boyfriend, leaning right over him until her chest was in his face or what had really got your blood boiling was when she dropped a spoon on the floor next to Ashton’s feet, crouching down onto the ground and placing a hand on his thigh to push herself up from the ground.

You could feel a rage inside you as she clearly flirted with him, Ashton too polite to tell her where to go.

You had thought you were whispering but the “Fuck off” that had left your lips was apparently a lot louder then you realised as everyone turned to look at you.

“Sorry about that, my girlfriends apparently a bit territorial tonight, she’ll probably pee on me in a minute.” Your jaw dropped at his words, not only had he made you out to be possessive, but he had basically called you a dog. The girls looked at you in sympathy while the boys and the waitress had laughed, leaving you feeling humiliated.

The hot jets of the shower were doing little to cool your anger but the bathroom door swinging open made you jump slightly. Ashton stormed into the bathroom, stripping off as you stared through the slightly steamy glass.

“Did I say you could join me?” You spit out your words, Ashton shaking his head before swinging open the shower door and walking in, straight up to you and placing his hands on your hips and turning you towards the tiles, pressing your body up against them so your back is to his front. The coolness of the wall makes you gasp, Ashton’s body pushing into you from behind, his hands gripping your wrists and moving them above your head until he holds both in one hand against the wall. His breath comes hot against your ear and you shiver as the hot water falls against your bodies.

“I know you’re a little upset princess but you need to stop talking to me like shit.” You push back against him, trying to pull your arms away but the both of you know that you would be pulling a lot harder if you actually wanted to get free. The glass of the shower begins to steam up and not from the heat of the water dripping down you both.

Michael

You stretch out in the wide bed, your legs tangled in the sheets as your muscles relax as you blink away the sleepiness in your eyes.

You can hear music coming from the bathroom and you can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips as you hear Michael’s voice over the music.

‘I do my hair toss, check my nails, baby how you feelin? Feelin good as hell!’

You move so you’re sat on the edge of the bed and listen to your boyfriends singing, your heart filling with a giddy love.

You walk over to the ajar door, slipping your oversized hoodie that you slept in over your head and tossing it onto the floor. The fragranced steam hits you in the face as you push the door open slightly, leaning on the door frame. You can barely make him out between the steamed glass but you can see the water flowing down his back that’s facing you and you bite your lip to keep back the smile as he carries on singing.

You watch him for a moment, ready to announce your presence when he wiggles his body in a dance and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips.

‘Oh fuck!’ He turns quickly and his foot slips in the water and he drops to the floor with a wet thud, a groan leaving his mouth as he hits the shower ground.

‘Oh my god I’m so sorry! Are you okay?’ You open the shower door and move quickly to kneel beside Mikey, not caring that you’re in your underwear which is quickly becoming soaked and sticking to your skin. His face is twisted in pain as he sits in front of you, rubbing his leg.

‘How long have you been standing there for?’ There’s no anger in his voice, only embarrassment and you smile softly, your hand resting on his shoulder.

‘Long enough to know you’re feeling Good as Hell and that you’ve got an ass that won’t quit,’ you wink at him and a small blush covers his cheeks. ‘Seriously though, are you okay? I’m so sorry.’ His hands go to your hips and his fingers trace the top of your underwear.

‘I’ll live baby, thank you for rushing to my aid though.’ He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours softly. Your one hand stays on his shoulder and the other grips his soft blonde hair.

‘I know how you can make it up to me…’ he murmurs against your mouth as he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and your head fills with delicious ideas.

‘How’s that-oh!’ You gasp as he flings the bra aside, his hands cupping your breasts, his thumbs running over your nipples in rough circles.

‘You. Can.’ He stops between each word to kiss your mouth softly, before hovering his mouth at your neck so you can feel his breath tickling your skin. ‘.... make those pancakes you know I like.’ He nips at your skin softly as you groan, pushing at his shoulders.

‘You’re such a fucking tease Clifford,’ you fix a glare his way before you both burst out laughing. He puts his hands back to your hips and pulls you onto his naked lap, your arms wrapping around his neck as you press your lips against his again.

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #5sos smut #calum hood #calum hoot smut #luke hemmings #luke hemmings smut #ashton irwin #ashton irwin smut #michael clifford #michael clifford smut #5 seconds of summer smut

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moonlit-han · 4 years

Text

a sweet ride ↠ yang jeongin

genre: bad boy!jeongin, high school au, fluff word count: 3.5k warnings: swearing, mention of smoking & underage alcohol consumption, almost suggestive request: yes (yangomangos, prompt included: “Don’t cry.”) a/n: this one’s for the jeongin enthusiasts~

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

every morning as you wait outside your high school for classes to start

you hear the thunder of his motorcycle

it’s loud, mildly obnoxious, and occasionally spits out fumes

but you don’t care

you actually like the sound of the bike and how the vibrations rumble in ur chest

it’s a sleek black and built almost entirely by him: old chassis, long handle bars, and a satisfying growl as the engine ignites

if you stand too close when he pulls up in the parking lot in the morning, you can feel the vibrations coming through the pavement

(your mum would probably lock you in a tower only a knight could enter if she ever found out you’d been on a motorcycle

…..not that you’d been on one

yet (ﾟ▽ﾟ｀*)? )

the owner of that motorcycle is your high school’s one and only bad boy

♡･｡.:*.ﾟyang jeongin ﾟ.*:.｡･♡

(but please call him “I.N.” because he’s actually out of the preppy, popular crowd ( ｀^´ ) )

he could ride that motorcycle straight through your heart and you wouldn’t care

okay maybe not your heart bc that would hurt (˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )

but definitely through your bedroom

that would be

f i n e (⊙‿⊙✿)

……….

all your friends cover their ears and turn away when jeongin pulls up

there isn’t a rule against a senior having a motorcycle and riding it to school

there are people who drive cars to school and that’s fine

he has a license and always wears a helmet

and he wears a thick leather jacket and heavy, black boots

(you’ve seen those boots

they look like they could stomp through concrete or smth)

there is no way he wouldn’t be safe

well, besides the fact that he rides a motorcycle

but you, still not caring, just kinda stare as he rides into the parking area in front of the school

he always does this cool lil swing into his designated “motorcycles only” spot

and then takes off his helmet

to do that fucking hair shake that you always see in movies

that can only mean “hot guy on a motorcycle”

fucking hell

oh and he then runs his fingers through his black hair

to make it appropriately ~windswept~

and, yes, he looks way too god damn hot

unnecessarily so in your humble opinion (๑`^´๑)

you almost flip your shit every morning just bc of him

he’s handsome like a fucking movie star

angled cheekbones, a defined nose and chin, a jawline so sharp it could ki— it could seriously hurt you

and don’t even start on his eyes

jeongin’s eyes are so dark you often wonder if they’re actually brown

if he looks at you in the halls, you immediately get the sense he could somehow see into your soul

and, judging by the dark aura he has, probably can

jeongin isn’t particularly horrible or anything, but he’s known throughout the school to, honestly, not give a flying fuck

about anything

he’s….a little chaotic

for example, he flouts any rule he doesn’t like

and he talks back if a teacher says something he doesn’t agree with

(this has lead to some very heated discussions in class

although, you were actually inclined to agree with him most of the time, since he usually brings up some good points and such

(it’s generally a good idea, you’ve mused on a regular basis, to treat people like human beings and not like machines only in existence to produce goods and perform services to a select few)

most of your classes are with him

and he’s really smart

like the kind of smart where he barely does any work but still passes the class with an A

i mean, who said he could do that??!!?!

who allowed such sorcery

heCk

and you know he’s passed all his courses

he may or may not occasionally smoke or drink behind the school but you know for a fact there are people who do much worse and nobody says anything about them

maybe it’s the leather

and the moodiness

but um;;;;; that’s kinda hot, you know?

you’re not really sure why people think he’s the “bad boy”...

you’ve never seen or heard him be mean or rude to anyone, so how bad can he be?

okay okay yes you’ve seen the knife hilts poking out of his boots

but who the fuck cares?!! ( • ̀ω•́ )

it’s not like he’s ever pulled them on anyone

that you know of

.............

and you’re pretty sure he knows you kinda watch him, too

bc one day he parked his bike facing the school instead of away

and you were just ~there~ as usual

but feeling very alone and exposed

since your dumbass friends had all decided to abandon you in your hour of need by walking away just before he rode up

and then, like a herd of sheep, they all turned to watch you as he did

ahahah friends? what are they?! nah don’t need them;;;

so there you were standing out on the pavement

very obviously looking at him

w e l p Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿)Σ(☉‿☉✿)

but, of course, he just had to look up

and this lil shit winked at you

actually winked

EXCUSE ME YANG JEONGIN

W H A T

;;;;;;;;;;;;

your friends teased you all day

“ooooh look it’s lover boy”

“shut up shut up shut up”

“but he just lookeD AT YOU”

“you’re lying”

“Y/N YOU FOOL”

“HHHHHHHH”

and it only gets worse from there (....um, you sure about that y/n?)

now whenever jeongin arrives in the mornings

he makes a point at looking over at you

you don’t always notice, unfortunately

and he ends up with a sad lil smile on his face bc he knows you’re having fun with your friends

but fuck!!!!

you’re just so!!! cute!!!!!

how can he not notice you??!!!

especially when you’re in all of his classes

and obviously watch for his motorcycle every morning

it makes him feel kinda cool, tbh

he’s also noticed that you like strawberries

a l o t (≧◡≦)

as in, your backpack is a strawberry

you have strawberry pins on said strawberry backpack

your raincoat has a pattern of strawberries on it

your pencil case may or may not be a lil cat eating, yes, a strawberry

jeongin being the smooth guy (he thinks) he is

gets you a strawberry sweetbread

and is all excited to give it to you

so after class on friday, he decides today’s his chance

(also, the sweetbread isn’t gonna last forever alfdjghafkgj)

aaaand you both try to walk out the door at the same time

which doesn’t work

but WOW YOU’RE NOW REALLY CLOSE TO HIM

jeongin: *vibrates*

ACTUALLY TOUCHING SHOULDERS

WHAT

…..fuck (￢_￢;)

and since when do you smell really good, too?? alkjhsjfghajhf

jeongin’s just a little overwhelmed, you know?

ANyWaY;;;;;;

y/n, blushing furiously: “oh my god sorry”

jeongin, spluttering: “no, no after you”

((oh wow his voice dropped since the last time you saw him

how is that even possible??? guys….))

after a couple tries back and forth through the doorway

(your teacher’s trying not to laugh in the background)

you finally both make it out of the classroom

and you start to speed walk away since your friends are waiting so you all can hang out

“hey, y/n!” comes down the hall after you

ALSDJHADJFLHG what ;;

you turn around quickly to find jeongin standing right behind you

“um, so i noticed you really like strawberries”

e x c u s e m e (O_O);;;

first of all:

yang jeongin—your school’s super hot bad boy, the guy you’re only a little obsessed with bc he rides a motorcycle, the inexplicably brilliant student, and total badass—just spoke to you

WHAT

((really, Y/N?? r e a l l y?????))

second of all:

he’s holding something wrapped in absolutely adorable cat (and strawberry) wrapping paper

that’s completely against his aesthetic

but matches yours to a tee ( ◡‿◡ ♡)

huh….

“y/n?” *holds out package*

you have to mentally shake yourself a little

but you’re back now

hhhHHHH

“me?”

“Yeah, I got you this. I hope you like it.” (●´ω｀●)

“thanks?” you say a bit lamely

you take the package and get a whiff of sweetbread

s w e e t b r e a d!!!! (*♡∀♡)

ajfhakljfhgjdsfgh your fav

you’d half expected jeongin to blast on outta there asap

but now he’s just standing in front of you, just kinda shifting back and forth

wait…is he nervous??

you slowly unwrap the package, careful not to damage the wrapping paper

(you are so going to reuse it or hang it on the wall or something ajdsdjfg)

and inside is a rounded sweetbread with strawberries delicately placed on top amongst swirls of pink icing

you gasp quietly

fucking hell it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen

jeongin’s just watching you, a small smiling spreading across his face

(which you don’t notice bc b r e a d)

you take a small bite of the treat and

。*:゜♡ヽ(*’∀’*)/♡゜:。*。

IT’S SOOOOO GOOD!!!!

you take another bite before looking up at jeongin and you finally see his smile

( ◡‿◡ ♡) (♡‿♡) (*♡∀♡)

it’s actually the best thing you’ve ever seen

there’s so much genuine happiness, and just a hint of mischievous mirth, in his smile

you feel like you’re looking into the sun, it’s so bright

why did jeongin, of all people get you, of all people, a sweetbread?

jeongin, completely unable to look cool anymore and shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet: “is it good?”

“OH MY GOD YES!!!”

and then you do something you never thought you’d do

ever

in the whole world ever

you throw your arms around yang jeongin’s neck

and give him a really big hug

his arms come up and around you to hug you back almost immediately,

which you were expecting even less than your own actions

but his hug is wonderful, even if he’s holding you like fine china

in a moment, you remember yourself and quickly step back

jeongin is blushing so much that he looks like a strawberry

(so good you just wanna eat him up (◕‿◕))

((y/n pls,,,,, not here....))

and you know you’re blushing just as much

you splutter an apology and run off down the hallway

and because you’re running off,

you don’t notice that jeongin is staring after

like a lovesick puppy (◕︵◕)

your friends are all over you about the sweetbread

bc they love it too

but you just say that you forgot you’d brought it with you that day

for some reason, you didn’t want to tell about your encounter with jeongin

when you get home, you savor the sweetbread,

remembering the warmth of jeongin’s smile~

the next friday, you’re outside at the picnic tables during lunch

it’s an absolutely beautiful day, with a light breeze~ (⌒ω⌒)

against the better judgement and fervent suggestions of your friends

you decide that it’s a great idea to get on top of one the tables

and dance

why?

someone had started playing ABBA’s “Dancing Queen”

no one can resist that song

so you’re having the time of your life

just dancing around on the table that your friends have since vacated bc they

a) don’t want to get kicked in the head, and

b) feel quite embarrassed to associate with you while you’re like this

......traitors (๑`^´๑)

and as anyone with an ounce of sense does when dancing to ABBA

you occasionally close your eyes in happiness

and suddenly you’ve stepped into air

your heart lurches and your eyes fly open

and your mind goes completely blank with panic

but you never reach the ground

you’re now surrounded by the smell of leather, metal, and.....

boy

someone had saved you from falling

the arms holding you are strong and well-muscled

and, surprisingly, comfortable

“i’ve got you,” a voice murmurs

you look up into the face of none other than jeongin

(⊙__⊙✿)

welp

you think to yourself “what... i thought he didn’t care about people??”

((nope y/n, he cares about YOU bc you’re the cutest and so lovely))

he smirks down at you, then sets you back down on the ground

“try to be more careful. okay, y/n?” he says, smoothing a wayward piece of your hair, then just walks off

you blush

(this seems to be becoming a common occurrence with jeongin)

and just stand there, dumbfounded

as jeongin saunters away to sit under a tree at the far end of the lawn

it’s a good saunter, and the tight, black skinny jeans only help (⊙ __ ⊙);;;;

your friends rush you, asking if you’re okay and asking what was up with jeongin

you say that you have no idea

......although, that’s not entirely true

since you now have a sneaking suspicion that *gasp* jeongin might have a crush on you?

maybe??

(hopefully!! (ﾟ▽ﾟ｀*)?)

your friends just continue dithering as you stare at jeongin, who’s watching you right back

he winks

ALKJSDHGAKLDJFGADJKFGBADJF

you really wish he’d stop doing that bc it’s making your heart pound like a herd of horses and now yOu CAn’t EveN THinK

FUCK!!

later that day as school’s letting out

jeongin comes up to you, leather jacket slung over his shoulder

he’s got on a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up a couple times

and ooooooh my

you’d never noticed before

(well, besides during lunch when he caught you)

but yang jeongin has really nice arms

and pecs (⊙‿⊙)

and now you’re staring (oh fuck,,,,, not again)

“uh;;;; hi, jeongin!” you manage to squeak out alkdjfhsldjf

“hey, i was wondering if you wanted a ride”

eXCusE Me wHAt??? ∑(ﾟﾛﾟ〃)

“on the motorcycle. i have an extra helmet, since my sister sometimes rides with me”

O H

your mouth takes control before you even have time to think

“sure! i’d love to!!”

a minute later, you’re standing in front of that sleek, black motorcycle that you’ve admired for months

the young man riding it helps the matter quite a lot, too

there’s even this little carrier container on the back of the bike that he puts his (small) backpack into

he reaches out for yours and stows it

then, jeongin hands you a helmet with lime green racing stripes on its sides

you briefly wonder if his sister is anything like him

probably

“have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?” jeongin asks

you shake your head, unable to speak bc you’re so excited and also kinda nervous

your mom’s words fly through your head

don’t you dare get on a motorcycle, y/n. ever. don’t you dare! they’re too dangerous by half and— well, if i ever find out you’ve been on one, you won’t be allowed out of the house, except for going to school, for a month. you mark my words, y/n! (; ･`д･´)

you promptly ignore her voice in your head and slid the helmet down over your head

the world suddenly becomes slightly more vibrantly colored as the visor shields your eyes

jeongin had swung his long legs over the bike, straddling it with his feet still on the ground

“so, the important thing is to stay in line with me. what i mean is that if i lean to one side or the other, you’ve gotta lean with me. otherwise, we’ll fall over and that really wouldn’t be good. just hold on tight to my waist and, sorry i don’t mean to sound rude, but please don’t scream.”

jeongin looks only a little rueful as he says that

but you don’t blame him

you wouldn’t want someone screaming in your ears as you tried to concentrate either

“okay, right. lean with you. hold on tight,” you say

jeongin sits down, one foot still on the ground, and pats the seat behind him

“come on! take a seat—i promise you’ll be fine, y/n”

tentatively, you clamber onto the motorcycle behind jeongin

and wrap your arms around his waist

you can feel . . .

holy shit his abs feel like a fucking washboard

ExCuSE mE?????!!!! (＠_＠)

heCk

((y/n, pls. calm down;;; we know he’s got muscles))

so um,,,, yeah

it’s really actually quite comfy to lean against his back

but then hen he lays his hands over yours

and looking back over his shoulder says, “ready, babe?

B A B E

HHHHHHHHHHHH

***y/n has officially malfunctioned***

damn tho

this boy is bold as fuck

wow

you’re not exactly complaining

bc you now know that you like being called “babe”

it makes you feel special (✿◠‿◠)

and you like how it sounds coming from jeongin

you can tell jeongin is grinning under his helmet

“yep, i’m ready,” you manage to say

and then you feel and hear the thunder of the engine igniting

it’s exhilarating and you hadn’t even started moving yet

jeongin yells over the engine “hold on!”

in one smooth motion he kicks the kickstand up, brought his foot off the ground, released the brake and clutch

and then...

and then you feel like you’re flying

even though you’re not going 70 mph (113 kph)

the wind tears at your clothes

making you feel freer than you’d ever felt before~

you thought you’d guessed what it would feel like to ride on a motorcycle

but even your wildest imaginings couldn’t come close to reality

you hold on tightly to jeongin’s waist, feeling every shift of his body as he guides the motorcycle along the roads surrounding your school

all too soon you find yourself back in the parking lot of your high school

you don’t release your hold on jeongin until after he’s shut off the engine

jeongin takes off his helmet, shaking his hair as usual, and hangs it on a handlebar

then he turns on the seat

you lean back

but jeongin reaches out and gently removes your helmet to place it on the seat between the two of you

even without touching it, you could feel that your hair was mussed

so you shake out your hair, too

and immediately understand why jeongin does it

you feel strangely powerful and a bit sexy

it’s a fun, new feeling

jeongin smiles like you’re the loveliest flower he’s ever seen

and, for the second time that day, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear

“how was it?” he asks, a look of concern on his face

you beam, feeling infinitely more at ease around jeongin

“amaaaaazing!”

“yeah? oh, don’t cry, y/n”

“what? oh” you realize that you are, indeed, crying

you wipe the tears from your face

after all, they’re just tears of happiness

“jeongin, it was incredible, oh my god. can we do it again? please?”

he laughs, throwing his head back

and you glimpse the dimple at the base of his throat

“maybe another day, babe” jeongin concedes

you pout

“oh, okay. thank you”

there’s a look in jeongin’s eyes that you can’t quite place

is it sadness? fondness? desire?

he exhales, then the corner of his mouth quirks up

you feel the warmth of his fingers caress your cheek

“y/n, may i kiss you?”

***yet again, we regret to inform you that y/n has malfunctioned***

what the ever loving flipping fuck

d— did jeongin just,,,,

did he?

ALKJHGALKJFHG;AKLHFGAKLJGHKAJH

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” jeongin says in a rush, dropping his hand

shit.

SHIT!

“no no no!! it’s fine, yes. please. that’s fine. that would be— that would nice. yes, very nice.”

wow you sounded almost hysterical

“good,” jeongin says simply

and leans in to softly press his lips to yours

you immediately kiss him back

and feel him smile against your mouth

just a moment later, he draws back, respectful, a question in his eyes

you chase his lips, not wanting to waste the precious opportunity to actually be kissing the yang jeongin!!

his hands come up to cup your neck

and you rest your palm against his chest, feeling the trembling beat of his heart

he tastes like like elderberry and cinnamon and clove all wrapped into one intoxicating milieu

you could kiss him for days and never tire

after what seems like hours, you break apart

“y/n,” jeongin begins

“oh just shut up and keep kissing me,” you say without hesitation, surprised at your own boldness (again)

it seemed that was becoming a habit around jeongin, too

he doesn’t bother responding

and, instead, kisses you until you’re breathless

again, you feel like you were flying

* . ∗ ̥ ⋆ ݃ *♡٩( ｡⌒▽⌒｡)۶♡* ݃ ⋆ ̥∗ . *

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buckys-forgotten-plum · 4 years

Text

A Witchy Kinda Love

Pairing: Witch!Bucky x Witch!Reader (Magic!AU)

Prompt: The world you lived in was known to be full of magic and strange, otherworldly things... But you knew true love was just an old witch's tale even if your familiar insisted otherwise...

Warnings: swearing, fluff, Bucky in cute outfits, way too much italicization, and also this thing is long as fuck. (10,410 words...oopsies)

A/N: Okay this got wayyyy outta hand but who the fuck cares? not me. I would love to give a HUGE SHOUTOUT to @buckybarney who helped a lot in giving me the confidence and drive to finish this fic as well as @smutsonian who created this dope as mood board and also helped me edit a lil bit. You guys make me so happy and I love and appreciate you both so much<3

✸ ✴ ✦

“Calcifer will you please come help me with this?” your exasperated voice could be heard from the balcony of your studio apartment as you struggled to balance the hoard of glass bottles in your arms.

Not a moment later, a small fox came trotting onto the (very overgrown) terrace, “Ya know I have things to do too. I’m not your butler,”

You scoffed at your familiar's grumbled complaint before handing him a couple bottles to hold in his mouth and wrap his tail around, “I know you’re not my butler Cal. But I got you that essence of toad the other day so the least you could do is help me organize my potion materials for a bit.”

The fox let out a low growl and walked back into your small apartment while you followed behind him, “You know how hard it is for me to form opposable thumbs lady? It’s gonna take a lot more than essence of toad for me to comply,”

You glared playfully at the fox before sighing and rolling your eyes, knowing exactly what the sly creature was trying to get you to do, “Calcifer if you want pheasant for dinner just ask,”

There was no response, just the quiet clinking of bottles rolling to the floor as you and your partner began to sort through everything. You really need to start organizing your stuff better. Last week you mixed up your newt toes with skinks and almost blew up your home, so it’s safe to say that your clutter has hit a breaking point. You left Calcifer to sit on your frameless bed as he sorted your bottles to go back out onto your small terrace, breathing in the scent of all of your plants that had happily covered every inch they possibly could. You figured it was as good a time as any to harvest all the herbs you’d need for the month and bottle them up for safe keeping. Quietly humming to yourself, you went around plucking the healthiest looking leaves, sprigs, and sprouts you could find, setting each pile onto the antique writers desk you had put out there as a space for your potion making.

“Hey Calcifer do you know where I put my Ever-Writing Quill?” You question, brows furrowing as you dig through the drawers of your desk.

“You don’t remember? You sat on it last week and snapped it in half!” The fox’s response was followed by a string of cackles and snorts as he laughed to himself about your misfortune.

You let out a loud groan of frustration, tilting your head to the sky and stomping your foot in a small childish fit. “Why didn’t you put it on my shopping list?” You ask, walking back inside to glare at the creature comfortably sitting on your bed.

Calcifer smiled widely, his pointy teeth fully on show in a sly grin, “oopsies, my bad!” he raised what would be his paws but are now little hands due to his helpful transfiguration powers, and held them in an innocent shrug.

You squint your eyes at the reynard but hold your tongue, shoving your feet into a pair of leather boots. “Come on, you’re coming with me to the market so I can get a new quill,”

It didn’t take too long before you had gathered everything you needed, making sure to grab your sweater as the weather hadn’t gotten much warmer in the past months and you absolutely hated to be cold. It only took a stern glare and a threat to have salad for dinner to convince Calcifer to go with you. Though you didn’t miss the petty and painful nip to your calf as you walked out of your door and into the dank hallway of your apartment building.

✸ ✴ ✦

The sky was colored a dark grey with intimidating clouds, blocking out any chance of sun or warmth as you walked down the streets of your small town. You passed by cute little shops and a restaurant or two as you made your way to the market. Your boots stomped loudly on the cobblestone walkway, echoed by the light clicking of Calcifier’s nails while he trotted beside you.

Your town didn’t have many witches, but the non-magic residents were still fully supportive of you and all the other witches and warlocks that resided in the small rainy town of Adelaide. You had lived there for years and not once had you come in contact with what your community called “Salamers”, bigoted people who had hate filled vendettas against your kind. Many of your friends who had lived in bigger cities had told you about their horror stories involving bigoted people who had cursed (pun intended) and swore at them. Your friend Peter even told you about a man who had spit on him after finding out he was a witch.

The thoughts of such hateful actions caused a crease in your brow to form and it didn’t leave until you were at the small stone entrance to Wanda’s Magickal Menagerie, the only entrance to the market for miles. It was one of your favourite things about the magical world. The outside looked like just another building with pretty stone walls and a worn wooden sign displaying the name, but to anyone with a high enough magical presence, it was an entrance to the biggest market in the wiccan world. Hundreds of vendors were beyond that door, hidden away to a different space and time by a carefully constructed spell performed by the most powerful witches in existence.

You couldn’t help the excited pulse of your heart as you opened the door and stepped into what seemed like an entirely different universe. The hustle and bustle of busy shoppers instantly clouded your vision and ears. The air was warm and lighting low in the crowded alleyway that led to the entrance and exit of the marketplace. You took only a moment to get used to the different surroundings before setting off on your way to the real Wanda’s Magickal Menagerie.

It only took a few steps before you heard the loud yip of pain from your familiar, instantly making you whip around to see what happened, “I hate it here, Y/n! Everyone steps on my tail, it smells weird, It’s dark, everything is all muted because apparently witches only like the color red and I’m colorblind-”

“Alright ya baby c’mere,” you interrupted Cal’s whining, bending down and allowing him to jump up and wrap around your shoulders.

“People have no respect for familiars, it’s so uncool,” he grumbled into your ear, resting his snout on the ridge of your shoulder.

“I know, buddy. But you know how much I hate going out alone. I really appreciate you coming with me. When we’re done here we can go to the butcher and you can pick out what bird you want for tonight,” Your hand came up to softly scratch your friend behind his ear, soothing his nerves and continuing on your way to your final destination.

It didn’t take long before you arrived at a small wooden hut, a modest sign with an address hanging out front for advertisement to passersby. You quickly approached the shop and pushed the door open, entering the cozy and familiar atmosphere of Wanda’s business.

“Hey Y/n! Cally, hi baby!” Your entrance was met immediately with happy greetings from your long time friend.

“Hey Wanda,” you and Calcifer greet in unison, smiles adorning both your faces.

The red headed witch skipped towards you, wrapping you in a warm hug and lovingly petting the fox around your shoulders. “How’ve you guys been? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,”

“We’ve been trying to declutter the apartment. Y/n’s become such a hoarder.” Calcifer blurts out, letting one of his signature cackles break free.

“I am not! I’ve just been experimenting with my potions, so I have a lot more ingredients and supplies right now,” You hurriedly explain, not wanting to have your friend think of you as a crazy old witch with a hoarding problem.

Wanda lets out a quiet giggle at the pair of friends in front of her, finding the relationship between you and your familiar adorable, “What brings you in today? Did you lose your monkey paw again?”

You playfully roll your eyes at Wanda, “No, I uh... I broke my Ever-Writing Quill,” you admit, trying to fight the warmth that crept up your neck and cheeks.

Wanda let out a quick burst of laughter before turning around and leading you through the many shelves and tables of her shop, “Come on, I just got a fresh shipment in,”

✸ ✴ ✦

“Thanks Wanda! I’ll see you and Vis for brunch on Sunday,” You smile and give your friend a kiss on the cheek goodbye before exiting her shop.

“Alright Cal, is there anything else you need before we go? Do you want me to get you more fur oil? Are you good on that incense you like?”

“Yeah I think I’m okay, at this point I just want food,” He grumbled, lifting his head up from your shoulder and sniffing the air.

You nodded your head in understanding and began the trip back to where you first entered the marketplace. The walkways were absolutely packed; it was nearly impossible to keep from bumping into other shoppers. Calcifer could be heard grumbling profanities every time someone brushed or bumped against him. You couldn’t blame the poor creature, he was naturally anxious and didn’t like strangers, so making trips like these were never too fun for him. You were trying your best to avoid people, but luck was against you and as you were ducking out of the way of one man who looked exactly like Merlin, you ended up running right into someone else.

You fell right to the floor, Calcifer tumbling from your shoulder and sliding a few feet away due to the force, “Ah! Calcifer? Cal are you okay?”

“Shit! are you okay? I didn’t see you, I am so sorry,”

Ignoring the stranger above, you frantically look around for your lost friend and spot him a few feet away from you, curling up into a scared orange ball and shoving his snout under his hind leg to hide. You scramble over to him, scooping his small body into your arms and holding onto him tightly, “Oh Calcifer I’m so sorry! I should have never asked you to come with me, I know you hate it here and now look what happened,”

You couldn’t help the stress induced tears that welled in your eyes as you pet the shaking fox in your arms, “I’m okay, Y/n. Just a little shaken,” His voice was quiet and you knew he wasn’t being completely honest but you knew getting out of the crowded place was more important at that point.

A tall figure suddenly shadowed over you, making you cower out of instinct and scoot back a few paces, “Hey are you and your fox okay? Really, I didn’t see you. I should have been paying more attention, let me help you up,” A hand comes down offering to lift you from the dirty concrete.

With one arm tightly holding onto Calcifer, you use your other hand to grab onto the strangers and lift yourself up. “Thanks,” You mumble out quickly, keeping your head down and immediately walking away, your mind completely focused on getting the hell out of these cursed alleyways.

Once you had fallen out of the exit and back onto the cobblestone streets of Adelaide, you could finally take a deep breath. Leaning up against the cold stone wall near the entrance, you closed your eyes, sucking in the fresh air and gently petting the creature still firmly gripped in your arms.

A choked cry escapes you suddenly, “I am so sorry Calcifer,” You absolutely hated that you had caused your friend such a terrible experience. He could’ve gotten hurt, someone could’ve stolen him away from you, the street was so crowded you would’ve never found him again! Calcifer would’ve never forgiven you! Might not even forgive you now! Just the thought of it-

“Alright calm down kid... I’m perfectly fine. Paw hurts a little bit but, really, I’m okay,” the fox in your arms looked up at you, a small smile on his snout as he nuzzled into your hair.

“Are you sure? I can take you to the vet-” Before you can continue to worry about the injured animal, a deep voice sounds from above you.

“Uh hey...”

You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks and look up, eyes widening in surprise as you stare into steely iris’s that seemed to have a mission on copying the sky that day. “H-hello,”

As you stared at the burly looking man in front of you, you couldn’t help but side eye his stature. Adorning all black with little glints of silver rings and buckles here and there, a few tiny scars marking his well-structured jaw and cheek bones, and good god those boots must be so heavy and-is that a metal hand peeking out from the long sleeve of his leather jacket?! This guy is too scary to be this attractive...

“I uh... I was the one to bump into you earlier. It’s totally my fault and I really didn’t mean for you to drop your fox like that-it’s just that my familiar took off and I just wasn’t paying attention and it seemed like a pretty bad fall and you were so focused on protecting your pet-” “He’s not a pet,” you spit out quickly, a stern glare etched into your features.

“R-right, right sorry-I just-I was-I misspoke...” he trailed awkwardly, roughly dragging a hand through brunette hair and grimacing at his own failure to compose a sensible response.

“Are you a witch?” you mumble out quietly, your glare softening into a more apprehensive, yet curious, stare.

“Uh yeah, yeah I’m only entry level though. My friend Sam helped me get into the market so I could get a few things but then...ya know”

You stood silently, not exactly sure of what this weirdo wanted from you. If he thought you were going to apologize he was very mistaken. What if he planned to rob you? To take Calcifer and run? The thought made your grip on the animal even more secure, if that were even possible.

“Is your arm okay?” Worried eyes gazed down at your arm and the man took a small step forward.

“What?” You try to flinch away from the soft grasp of his hand around your bicep, but only end up pushing yourself against the wall.

The man inspected the inflamed scrape that burned a path along your forearm and up to your elbow, “That looks pretty bad doll, do you want some medicine? I think I might have a little with me. Hey Sibi!”

“Holy shit!” A sharp intake of breath forced its way into your lungs as you saw a giant white wolf bound up to the man. Your breathing sped up, heartbeat following along with it as you gazed upon the giant beast.

“Do you mind? I gotta get into my bag,” He asked gently, the wolf immediately turning to give him easy access to a large pack that was slung over her back, “Thanks Sibi, can you go find Sam? Tell him I’ll be a bit longer than expected,” The wolf let out a gruff noise of agreement and nodded it’s head before heading back through the magical entrance.

The man turned back around and walked towards you once more. You didn’t flinch this time when he reached for your arm, careful to make sure you had a good grip on Cal before opening a bottle of light blue gel and tapping some out onto the palm of his hand, “My name is Bucky, by the way,”

“Okay,” you mumble out awkwardly, your anxious nature getting the best of you and blocking any form of friendly communication to come across while Bucky covers your wound with the gel.

“Her name is Y/n, I’m Calcifer,” You stare down incredulously at the fox, not expecting him to introduce you to this stranger.

Bucky smiled up at you and the fox, shiny white teeth on display, “Pretty name for a pretty girl,”

The comment instantly made your face heat up in embarrassment. “Thank y-you...”

Bucky straightened up after he was done dressing your wound, thankfully taking a step back to give you some space. Why wasn’t he leaving? Why did he care so much about some rando he ran into at the market? Maybe this was just a front to try and rob you...

“Well uh... I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed real spooked back there and I could tell you hurt your arm so I just wanted to check up on ya,” Bucky’s eyes shined brightly as he explained himself. A pink tint colored his cheeks and neck as he sheepishly stared down at the ground.

His shy nature made your lips tilt into a small smile of your own and you couldn’t help thinking about how cute he looked like that, “thank you, that’s very kind,” you mumbled out.

There was a beat of silence as you and Bucky avoided each other's eye contact before a familiar patronizing voice interrupted, “Hey kid if you’re done flirtin’ with this guy can we go home? I’m starvin’ right now,”

“Calcifer!” you scold immediately, the familiar burn of pure embarrassment instantly appearing across your face.

Bucky, however, didn’t seem to be bothered by the fox’s comment and burst out into a fit of deep chuckles, running his metal hand through the long tresses of rich brown hair.

“Your fox is cute,”

The comment made Calcifer let out a gruff murmur of disagreement, making you join Bucky in his laughter, “Yeah, I’m really happy he chose to stay with me. Um... I should probably go. Cal hasn’t eaten since breakfast and I still need to go to the butcher-” “There’s a butcher in this town?” The pure curiosity on Bucky’s face made your smile grow that much more as he finally took in his surroundings.

“Yeah, it’s about two blocks down from here, it’s Calcifer's favorite place,” You say, backing up a few steps to signal your exit.

“A-alright! well, uh it was nice meeting you! Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?” The male witch fumbles with his words as he realizes the conversation is ending.

“Sure, maybe,” you nod in agreement, fully turning around and beginning the walk towards your destination.

As you walked away you couldn’t help but let the small smile on your face grow. What a dork he was... Almost as awkward as you were, the way he kept messing with his hair- ”He’s still lookin’ at ya... And what was all that stuff you were thinking about getting robbed? Why were you so fixated on gettin’ robbed?”

“Calcifer for christ’s sake!” Your voice was filled with exasperation, rolling your eyes at the familiar's comments and ignoring the fact that the cute witch was still watching you walk away.

“Are you seriously thinking about how him staring at you is cute? Humans are so weird...”

“Stop reading my thoughts you creep!”

✸ ✴ ✦

A groan echoed throughout your apartment as a streak of the bright morning sun landed on your eyes and woke you from your slumber. Clapping a hand down onto your eyes to block the light, you roughly slide it down in hopes of wiping the fatigue that plagued you. Slowly but surely, you untangled yourself from your sheets, stretching your waking limbs and yawning with an over dramatic sound. You blindly felt around for your phone that was lying on the floor directly by your mattress. Once you located the small device, you tapped it on and read the time. 10:47 am, Sunday...Fantastic.

You laid on your mattress for a bit, unaware of anything but your tired bones. The only reason you didn’t fall back asleep right then and there was the light buzz that came from your phone. You lazily picked it back up and stared at the too bright screen, taking a moment to comprehend the text that popped up on your home screen.

Wanda Maxi: Hey! Are you on your way?

What? On my way...

“OH FUCK” You bolt out of bed, slipping on part of your sheet that was draped onto your wooden flooring and almost face planting.

“Calcifer wake up we gotta have brunch with Wanda and Vis!” you scream out to nothing specific, unaware of where your familiar was.

As quickly as possible, you gathered an outfit, shoved a toothbrush into your mouth to brush it a little too harshly, got your hair ready, and threw your clothes on. It’s not until you’re almost done getting ready before you see the bright fox bolt in from the balcony, “How could you forget about brunch? This happens every week for fucks sake!”

“This isn’t entirely my fault! You knew about it too!” you argue while lathering deodorant onto your underarms, already sweating from the stress of the situation.

“I’m a fox! You think I keep alarms?” he yells back at you, not bothering to stop and look at you as he gathers your things while you hurriedly tried to shove your foot into a shoe.

Once your shoes were on and Calcifer had given you everything you’d need, you ran to your door and swung it open, “You wanna run with me or do you want me to carry you?”

“Oh please you can barely run by yourself. You couldn’t handle the weight,” Calcifer scoffs, running between your legs and out of the apartment.

You immediately lock your door and run after him, “So rude...” you huff to yourself and catch up to the fox.

✸ ✴ ✦

It only took you about five minutes to sprint across town and make it to the small clay cottage that your friends had lived in for years now. The mossy dark brown Terracotta roof and grey wooden door that had ivy vining in and out of it gave a lovely natural look to the house and you couldn’t help but admire the wonderful home the couple had built.

Calcifer’s quiet pants mixed with your wheezing as you stumbled up to the door and knocked loudly to signal your arrival. The door swung open, revealing a smirking Wanda.

“You woke up late again didn’t you?”

Still catching your breath, you nodded and followed her into her home. Wanda looked gorgeous, as always, wearing a light and flowing yellow sundress with matching shoes and a pretty white ribbon that was tied into her hair.

“I’m so sorry Wanda, neither of us set an alarm,” you breathed out, following her towards the kitchen.

“It’s okay sweetie, we didn’t have to wait or anything, all of us were busy talking about the latest man who was admitted into the Grand Council,” she smiled back at you, warm eyes shining from the sunlight that was coming through the glass doors that led to their garden.

You tilt your head in confusion when you realize her phrasing, “All of us?”

Wanda gently put a fist to her temple, her face twisting into a slight grimace, “I’m sorry sweetie I completely forgot to mention I invited some friends today! Don’t worry, they’re both great and I’m sure you’ll get along just fine,”

You nod your head hesitantly, not entirely believing your friend. You wondered who she had invited... Many times over Wanda and Vision have told stories about their old friends who they had met throughout their lives. From your understanding, they had built a wonderful family together and had helped and cared for each other for years so you had no doubt they would be friendly.

Before you had time to voice whatever worries you had, you were interrupted by the fall of multiple pairs of footsteps. It didn’t take long for three men to walk into the room, all talking enthusiastically over each other. You automatically recognized the slim man walking over to Wanda as Vision, his bright eyes greeting you as he wrapped his arms around Wanda’s slim waist.

You turn to the other two guests and are unable to hold in an audible gasp when you recognize one of them. Those chilling eyes copied yours as they widened to an almost comical size.

“Y/n...” The sound of your name coming from his full, pink lips made your hands clam up.

He was dressed much more formal today with a navy blue sweater over a button up shirt, dark jeans and the cutest wing-tipped shoes you’d ever seen. He looked like he had just gotten out of church with his grandmother.

“H-hello..” you mutter back, a heavy cloud of confusion and stress surrounding itself around you.

“Oh...Do you-do you guys know each other already?” Wanda tilts her head a curious finger flickering between the two of you as her squinting eyes try to find the connection.

Bucky glances at you, then Wanda, then back at you, as if to ask the question of who would be telling the tale of your meeting. You however settled for staring up at the ceiling, handing that responsibility off to Bucky.

“We um, bumped into each other at the market the other day,” his answer comes after a slight moment of hesitation.

You held back a scoff at his choice of words... More like you ran over me and almost killed my familiar.

“Oh great! So then you’ll only have to meet Sam,” Wanda smiles and gestures to the stranger who had refrained from speaking up until now.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Sam Wilson,” he greets you with a bright smile, a charming gap between his two front teeth and a warm glow emanating from rich brown eyes that winked mischievously.

He was quite handsome and his automatic charm caused the fog of awkward shyness to thicken in your mind, “Nice to meet you too,” you smile politely and shove your hand out for him to shake.

A deep chuckle sounds from within his muscular chest as he grasps your hand and gives a firm shake. You quickly tell him your name before stepping back and allowing a new conversation to start. It was hard to focus on what everyone was saying as you felt the obvious gaze of Bucky peering at you from across the kitchen. You found the best way to keep yourself from staring back at him was to focus on the small amount of dirt that you could see hidden underneath your nails. You really needed to get them done again... Although it gets pretty difficult to achieve correct measurements with the long pointy acrylics that seem to be your go-to choice.

“I dunno man, I just have really bad vibes about that Pierce guy... Steve agrees with me,” Sam’s comment brings you back to the conversation which you had apparently zoned out of.

“Where is Steven? I thought he said he would be able to attend today?” Vision, always the formal talker, had a questioning glint to his eyes as he switched his focus from Sam to Bucky, then back.

“Liberty wasn’t feeling too good so he had to take her to a vet,” Bucky was the one to answer.

“Liberty?” a questioning tilt to your head signals your confusion.

Bucky smiles at you before answering, “Yeah, she’s Steve’s pet. Super cute golden retriever that he picked up at the pound a couple years back,”

“Oh... Is he not a witch like you guys?” it surprised you that there was someone amongst their group that wasn’t practicing magic.

Bucky subconsciously takes a step towards you, his body language changing to signal he was now solely focused on you, “Yeah he tried a few years ago but, it didn’t really go too well,”

As Bucky answered he held up his metal prosthetic and wiggled his fingers, “Are you serious?! Your friend did that to you?” you gasp in shock, your eyes widening in amazement as you reach out to touch his arm without thinking.

The metal was smooth and you were so enamored by the new information as well as the mechanical appendage that you failed to notice how tense Bucky got and how multiple pairs of eyes were staring at you. Your fingertips gently ran over the cool ridges of metal sections, “Wow... Did he turn your arm metal or did... did something else happen?” you glance between pretty blue eyes and steely metal.

Bucky slowly reaches his arm out so you have a better view of what it’s like, “Actually that was kind of a joke,” he stutters, an awkward smile gracing his lips, “The real story is way more depressing,” he mumbles.

You halt your movements and stare up at him, the familiar yet heavy weight of embarrassment settling itself deep within your chest, “O-oh... I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to overstep-” You pull your hands away, folding them tightly against your chest.

“No it’s okay! Really I’ve had a lot worse interactions,” he chuckles and reassures you once again that you didn’t overstep any boundaries.

You nod in understanding but inevitably go back into your default of shy silence. Bucky stares down at you with a kind smile in hopes of making you feel a little less like an ass. It doesn’t work.

After a few moments of deafening silence, Wanda makes a move over to the oven, “Alright everyone, quiche time!”

“Aren’t you vegan?” Bucky mumbles, walking over to the table and preparing to sit down. As Wanda gives her response and mentions the fake eggs she found at the market, you walk over to the table as well. Bucky pulls out the seat closest to you and gives you a reassuring nod. You give a thankful smile and sit down, allowing him to help you push it back towards the table.

“Thank you,” your quiet voice has Bucky grinning as he sits down next to you.

“Of course, doll”

Brunch goes off without any more awkward spells and with the help of Wanda’s amazing skills in the kitchen, you begin to feel yourself relax with each bite you take. The afternoon goes on with the others telling you about how they met, silly stories about their friendly adventures, and at some point the conversation turned to you and what it had been like growing up a witch. It was a unique characteristic that none of your friends, new or old, had experienced.

“Well, my dad is the one who originally got me into it... He was an aura reader like Wanda, and my mom focused more on spell casting and potions,” a warm grin on your lips signal the fondness your memories bring as you tell about your childhood, everyone was completely invested.

“especially Bucky” Calcifer pointed out silently, giving you a knowing smirk from where he sat on the floor next to you.

oh fuck off you stupid fox

✸ ✴ ✦

With full stomachs and a few full containers of leftovers, you, Sam, and Bucky stood gathered outside of Wanda’s front door as you all belted out a chorus of goodbye’s and excellent days.

“It was really nice meeting you Y/n, make sure to keep in touch! I’ll be waiting for a carrier owl,” Sam winks at you as he begins to walk down the path towards the sidewalk, effectively leaving you and Bucky by yourselves.

“He didn’t even let me say goodbye back...” you mumble out, staring at the confident figure that now waited at the property line by a pretty bush of hydrangeas.

“Yeah... He’s weird like that,” Bucky agrees, glancing at his friend before fully turning his attention to you, “um so I’ve been meaning to maybe like... um maybe get your contact info? I just... I was maybe thinking we could grab like, tea or something sometime?”

As you take in Bucky’s words, you can’t help but notice the awkward and anxious movements he had started, reminding you of the first day you had met him. It made your lips twitch up just slightly.

“Oh? like, my phone number?” the dumb answer almost had you on your knees with how hard you cringed.

Bucky let out a breathy chuckle, “Uh yeah, yeah or like maybe an address? Or ugh that’s probably too personal-” “No! no it’s um it’s not,” you answer a little too quickly, discreetly pinching the skin on the back of your hand as punishment for your blatant lack of social skills.

After a quick beat of neither of you knowing what to do, you finally speak back up, “You could come over tomorrow if you’d like,”

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why would he want to come over so- “Yeah I’d love to!” Bucky answers enthusiastically, pulling his phone out from his back pocket and holding it out to you, “Just give me your number and I'll text you, we can figure out the details later, K?”

You gingerly take the smartphone in your hands and type in your number, forgetting to put a name in for yourself before handing it back to him. Bucky’s hand slightly brushes yours as he takes it back and you’re too busy focusing on the lingering feeling on your hand that you miss the cheeky grin on Bucky’s face as he types in a contact name.

“Hey tin soldier! You ready yet?” Sam’s smooth voice has you turning around with a start at his unexpected call.

Bucky nods towards his friend, waving him off and turning back to you, “So I’ll uh, see you tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow,” You confirm with a nod of your own.

Bucky’s smile grows tenfold and he takes a small step towards you, hesitating for only a moment before he leans in and gives a chaste kiss to the apple of your cheek. He doesn’t wait around to see your reaction, jogging over to Sam and slapping him on the shoulder before walking off down the cobblestone streets.

Standing with your eyes the size of the moon and your face as hot as the goddamn sun, you don’t fail to catch the string of comments that your sleazy little fox makes.

“Oh Bucky please just take me away! I’m too shy and socially inept to even speak to you properly, please I just love you sooooo much!” Calcifer’s high pitched mocking made your blood boil as he wheezed with laughter.

“Shut up you stupid fox!” you yell at him, hooking your foot underneath his belly and pushing up and forward to flip him on his side.

The reynard continued to cackle hysterically as you walked away from him. You could hear the broken comments he made as Calcifer continued to berate you on the bumpy interactions you always seemed to have with the handsome witch.

“You’re sleeping outside tonight!” you call back to him, a smug tilt to your lips.

The laughing stopped immediately and was replaced by the clicking of little nails on mossy stone.

✸ ✴ ✦

Calcifer’s eyes were glued to your figure as you made a mad dash around your apartment to make sure everything was clean and properly put away. Your socks allowed you to slide across the wooden floors as you shoved the rest of your freshly cleaned towels into a closet and slam it shut. Quickly turning the other way to sprint then slide the rest of the way to your little kitchenette where an almost comically small oven bakes banana nut muffins.

“You are a nervous wreck right now kid,” Cal points out, a hint of worry in his mostly humorous tone.

You look over at him, cringing at the realization that, yeah, you probably do look like a nervous wreck...

“It’s just that... No one has been over in a while and the last person that did come over was Wanda and I know she doesn’t care all that much about my tidiness so it was okay but I have no clue as to how Bucky is going to react and it's not like I don’t want to impress him, I mean I don’t need to impress him like my life doesn’t depend on what he thinks but,” “Christ’s sake kid-” “I mean for gods sake my bed is on the floor! He’ll probably think I’m some broke slob who-” Knock Knock

“Oh my gods,” you whisper scream, no doubt did your aura radiate pure panic...

You shuffle over to the door, shoving your face up against it to look through the peephole and make sure it was the only person you were expecting. Taking a deep breath, you try and center yourself, then open the door.

“Good morning, Bucky!” you greet, a bright smile on your face as you take in your guest’s appearance.

Bucky is looking extra handsome today as he wears a dark grey cardigan over a white shirt, dark fitted jeans and, to your extreme surprise, black Converse.

“Hey, Doll” he smiles back softly at you, quickly taking in your simple outfit of a cute yellow crop top and black shorts, “T-these are for you,” he mutters quickly and pulls a pretty bouquet of wildflowers out from behind his back.

You beam at the thoughtful gesture and Calcifer doesn’t miss the sense of pride that Bucky gives off at your excited reaction, “Wow, Bucky these are so cute! I love them, thank you very much,” gingerly taking the bundle of fragrant colors, you invite your guest inside and immediately go to your kitchenette to find a receptacle for them.

Once you find a nice little vase to put them in you spin back around to find Bucky looking around your small apartment, “Um...It’s not much-but the rent is really good and since it’s just me and Cal it works out pretty nice. If you aren’t comfortable we can always-” “I love it, Y/n. It’s really... you,” he glances back towards you, the look in his eyes warming you from deep within your chest.

“Hey, tin man” the both of you jump slightly as Calcifer interrupts the thoughtful interaction.

Bucky crouches down and reaches his hand out to the fox, “Hey... Nice to see you again Calcifer”

“Where’s your dog?” completely ignoring Bucky’s polite greeting, Calcifer passes by him.

“Oh uh... Sibi is still in training so I didn’t think it’d be a good idea to bring her into someone else’s home just yet,” the man answers awkwardly, dropping his hand and standing back up to his full height.

Calcifer be nice you little skeez.

I’m just tryin’ get to know the guy, alright?

You roll your eyes at the red animal and tell him to go onto the balcony. He thankfully listens, giving you and Bucky some privacy.

“Sorry about him... He can be a little difficult sometimes,” you apologize quickly, nervously rubbing your clammy hands on the front of your shorts.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, “It’s alright, I understand,”

You give a questioning look at his phrasing and he quickly moves to elaborate, “Well, uh I guess-Ya know- since you guys are really close... I can understand why he would be protective because um, well since I’m like I’m trying to-” “Trying to what?”

Bucky’s face was beet red as he tried and failed to explain himself to you, who had absolutely no idea what he was going on about, “In any case, I’m sure he’ll warm up to you soon,” you smile warmly at him and turn towards your oven.

The embarrassed man watches as you take out the piping hot tray of muffins and set them out on the counter to cool. His stomach growls low as the deliciously sweet smell hits his nostrils.

“How about we go sit down while those cool off?” you suggest and lead Bucky over to the small sofa that sat against the only free wall.

You tuck yourself into one corner, folding your legs so they were pressed against your chest as you tried to give Buck as much room as possible. It was quite adorable to see the tall, beefy guy try and squeeze himself onto your small couch. A quiet laugh escapes you and he glances towards you, his cheeks tinged pink, “Guess M’not really made for studio apartment sized things,” he chuckles.

Glad to see he isn’t upset about the cramped seating arrangement, you relax a little bit and start asking Bucky about his life. The two of you fall into easy conversation, talking about your childhood, past and current friends, how Bucky got into magic, your familiars and anything else that came to your minds.

By the time there was a slight lull in conversation, it was already mid afternoon and you couldn’t help the growls that sounded from your stomach.

“Um, do you want me to make us some lunch? I have like, sandwich stuff or mac n cheese?” you ask, swinging your legs off the couch and standing up to stretch.

“Yeah that sounds good, you want me to help?” Bucky follows your movements and you shake your head.

“S’okay, if you want you can go onto the balcony and I’ll be right out,” You smile up at him, turning to your little kitchen and focusing on making lunch.

Bucky makes his way out onto your balcony covered in vining plants and hanging bottles filled with god knows what. Calcifer was asleep on a slightly rusted chair in the corner, his tail and legs curled into his body, making him look like a furry ball of orange. Bucky had never seen a work space quite like it. Sam was more of a trader so there wasn’t much potion making in the home they shared together. As he stared in wonder at all of the bottles covering the antique desk and a good part of the floor, curiosity got the best of him and Bucky couldn’t help but to start picking them up and exploring what was inside.

Most of the bottles were labelled so he didn’t need to worry about those ones, the curious man was more interested in the unmarked ones. Popping off the cork to a green glass bottle filled with a powder, he brought his nose up to sniff and immediately gagged at the overpowering scent.

“What is that?” he grumbled quietly to himself, closing that one and picking up a new one.

This bottle did in fact have a label, but it was chicken scratch and for the life of him, Bucky couldn’t tell what the hell it meant as he picked up the murky glass bottle filled with what seemed to be a bright purple fog and opened it, taking in a quick whiff.

Almost immediately Bucky felt the effects of the mystery potion and he had to steady himself on the desk so he wouldn’t fall over. Blinking a few times, he gathered his wits and slowly stood straight up.

“Whaaat are you doing?” Your curious voice from the sliding door made Bucky jump and spin around, hiding the bottle behind his back.

Your eyes quickly shift from the chilling blue irises of your guest to the suspicious amount of movement happening behind his large frame. Bucky lets out a quick scoff before answering, “What? Nothing, just checkin stuff out ya know,”

His poor attempt at a casual demeanor was lost on you and it was quite evident in the suspicious squint of your eyes as you continued to stare at the man in front of you.

“Which bottle did you sniff?” you ask flatly, sticking your hand out expectantly, the other hand making its way onto your hip.

“I-I didn’t sniff any bottle,” Bucky mutters out, metal hand going up to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly.

You waited only a moment before he spoke again, seemingly unable to hold back his comment, “That’s a lie I sniffed this bottle,”

He immediately took a bottle out from behind his back and placed it in your still awaiting palm. You knew what it was as soon as you saw the color of the substance inside and began to laugh. It was the hardest you had laughed all day and the resounding noise of your joyous fit surely made its way down to the cobblestone streets below. Your right hand left its initial place on your hip and placed itself over the left side of your chest as you bent over to steady yourself.

“Y-you just inhaled a shit ton of Truth-Be-Told Smoke” You cackled out loudly.

Bucky, though entirely confused, couldn’t help the smile that painted itself onto his pink lips as he stared at your beautiful figure shaking from the prettiest laughing fit he had ever heard, “Your laugh is really pretty,” he blurted out, immediately slapping his hand over his mouth afterwards.

The compliment startled you enough to calm your laughter and straighten your posture back out, “Thank you, Buck. So I’m just gonna assume you’re wondering what’s happening right now,” He answered you by quickly nodding his head.

You giggled and continued on, “Basically, this stuff is used mainly as a partial ingredient in other potions, but by itself, especially undiluted, it’s a high performing truth serum. You won’t be able to say anything except for what comes to your mind for quite some time,”

“That makes me really nervous,” Bucky’s voice sounds strained as the hand that was covering his mouth moves to wipe down his face in stress.

“Well don’t go sniffin’ a girl’s potions next time!” you giggle out, walking over to return the potion to its proper place.

“You smell really good,” before you have a chance to react bucky groans in frustration, “Fuck I am so sorry,”

A light laugh escapes your lips and you look up at Bucky’s grimacing face, “It’s okay, I don’t mind. Plus it’s nice to know I made the right decision on what body wash to buy,”

You motion Bucky to follow you back inside, ensuring there would be no more accidental roofying. Two sandwiches sit side by side on the small sofa, a little pile of chips next to each one.

“This is really kind of you, Y/n” Bucky smiles, lifting up both plates of food and waiting for you to get comfy next to him before handing you one.

“It’s no problem Bucky, you’re my friend now and-” “I don't want to be your friend,” he bursts out, making you frown.

Bucky quickly fixes his mistake, “No sorry- I uhm- I misspoke I-I don’t want to just be your friend.” another grimace makes its way onto his face, “That’s embarrassing for me to say, I’m embarrassed,”

If you weren’t already sweating nervously, you were now. Clammy hands grip at the paper plate on your lap as you try and will your face to extinguish the fire that has engulfed it. “B-Bucky, I um…”

“I’m sorry I said that… It probably makes you never want to see me again,” Bucky mutters out, anxiously playing with the small pile of potato chips.

“Actually…” you begin, taking a deep breath and continuing, “It doesn’t bother me at all,”

Bucky lets out a long breath of air, “Holy shit really? That’s fucking awesome because I wasn’t gonna tell ya that today but then I smelt that thing and I’m sweating real bad right now with how nervous I am-I should not have said that, but now that you said what you just said-”

You put your hand up, signaling for the witch to stop his word vomit and laughed, “Bucky you don’t need to worry… Honestly, I am just as nervous as you,”

Maybe it was because of the state Bucky was currently in, maybe it was because of something completely unrelated, but it made you feel brave enough to admit more than what you would’ve ever imagined. Bucky somehow willed himself into eating his sandwich, stopping every once in a while to blurt out a random compliment about you, the food, your apartment, anything. He even complimented how adorable it was that your mattress was on the floor, saying it just made everything feel so much comfier and he wished his apartment was like this. You took the comments in stride on the outside, though on the inside you were dying out of embarrassment. No one had ever said such nice things about you, and to the volume that Bucky was going, even if it was against his will, it still shocked you a bit.

By the time you were both done eating, the effects of the smoke seemed to slow down a bit, which allowed the nervous man beside you to withhold all of his thoughts, though it did keep him from lying still. As you stood to clean up the plates and napkins used during lunch, Bucky mimicked you, following you to the kitchen.

“Today was really nice Bucky...Thank you for coming over,” you smile up at the tall man beside you and try not to swoon when he returns the warm smile.

There wasn’t a beat of hesitation before Bucky responded, “It was my pleasure, sweetheart,”

The term of endearment had your face aflame, something that has become a recurring struggle whenever you were around Bucky and his stupid compliments that always got to you.

“Ya know, you’re quite the sweet talker when there’s nothing holding you back,” you tease playfully, making Bucky let out a quick bark of laughter.

“Was I not a sweet talker before? I must have had some kinda skill since ya let me spend the whole day here,” a sly smirk is pulling at the corners of his lips as Bucky leans down closer to you in a mocking way.

You roll your eyes and put a hand to his shoulder, effectively pushing him away and giving yourself some much needed space. If you didn’t breathe properly soon, you were gonna pass out.

Bucky stayed at your place for a bit longer until he got a text from Sam saying that Sibi was getting anxious and that she missed him. You couldn’t help the grin that made its way onto your face when he explained why he had to leave, thinking it was absolutely adorable that Bucky was the only one who was able to calm that gigantic wolf. When it was time for him to go, it became a waiting game of who was going to initiate the final goodbye.

Standing by your front door, leaning on the trim, you stared into the piercing blue eyes of the man opposite of you, completely unsure of what to say. In all honesty, you didn’t think it’d go this well. For Bucky to spend the entire day cramped up in your apartment with you, eating snacks and joking around as if you had known each other for years… It shocked you a bit when you truly thought about it.

Bucky sighed, leaning against the opposite frame of the door as he stared back down at you, “So…” a nervous hand came up to subconsciously tangle into the hairs on the nape of his neck, the Truth Be Told must be wearing off, “I um… Today was really great,”

You nod your head in agreement, “Yeah it uh-it was,” your fingers begin to tangle and pull at each other.

“Do you...Maybe wanna...Do it again? Soon?” he mumbles out, breaking eye contact as he begins to focus on his shoes.

A little pinch to the back of your hand ensures that what you just heard was real and you nod, “yes, that’d be awesome! I um… Whenever you’re free of course,”

Y/n and Tin Man sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!

You quickly turn around to see Calcifer prancing in a circle in the middle of your apartment, a sly grin on his face.

Gods what are you Five? Shut up you stupid fox! I’m gonna throw you off the balcony!

“Doll? You okay?” Bucky chuckles lightly as he sees your face scrunched up into a cute little scowl that makes him want to squish your face between his hands.

Calcifer's annoying cackles were heard echoing in your apartment as you turned back around to face Bucky, “Yeah, yeah no I’m good… You were saying?”

“Just that I was free on Thursday, if you maybe wanted to get coffee with me… But it’s really no big deal if you don’t want to, I would understa-” “No! Er-I mean yes! Yes. I would love to get coffee with you on Thursday,” You cringe at your awkward response and bite the inside of your lip to keep yourself from screaming in embarrassment.

The bright smile on Bucky’s face grounds you a little bit and gives you the courage to meet his pretty blue irises, “So Doll, I uh was thinking-” Before he can finish his thought, Bucky’s phone pings loudly, making you jump a little, “Sorry” He murmurs.

Snatching it from the pocket of his jeans, Bucky takes a look then immediately lets out a quiet sigh, “That’s Sam, I really gotta go,”

Trying not to let the disappointment show, you nod your head and straighten up, silently wishing he could stay longer, “Okay...Um I’ll see you on Thursday then…”

Bucky’s head tilts to the left as he considers your shy demeanor and he can’t help but reach out with his right hand and lightly grasps yours, “I’ll see you on Thursday, pretty girl,”

You suck in a breath, feeling Bucky lightly tug on your hand and willingly following his lead. Taking a tiny step forward, which was really all you could take with how close the two of you were all ready, the breath your holding tightens in your chest as Bucky leans down closer to you. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek, the brush of his long eyelashes ghosting over your temples, and the light squeeze on your wrist from his large hand. Bucky’s lips were soft as they pressed against the corner of your mouth in a light kiss that made you feel like you were in the clouds.

It didn’t last as long as you’d like and once he pulled away, you were able to let out the painful breath that stayed in your lungs for way too long. Bucky gave a quick wave before backing up a few paces, turning around, and walked the rest of the way down the hall. Leaving you to stand there breathless with the lingering feeling of his soft touches.

“You two are gross,” The floaty feeling that had fallen over you evaporated as you heard the familiar’s voice from behind you.

“I’m gonna hit you so hard,” You yell over your shoulder, turning around and slamming the door behind you. You pick up a slipper by your door and make your way over to the cackling fox.

“W-wait wait! OW”

“Stupid fox”

✸ ✴ ✦

-3 Months Later-

“Steve c’mon, stop interrogating my girl and come help set the tent up!” Steve turns his attention from you to his best friend, a smile on his face as he gets up to help Bucky set up the large canvas tent.

“We will continue this later,” the blonde says pointedly before leaving you by yourself at the wooden picnic table.

It had only been a little over three months since you had met Bucky Barnes, exactly two since he had worked up the courage to officially ask you to be “his girl” as he put it, and two hours since you had properly met Steven Rogers. How you had gone so long without meeting Bucky’s platonic other half was beyond you, but apparently the guy was a busy bee, and since your little potion shop out of your apartment had taken off, you didn’t exactly have much free time on your hands either. Fortunately, with a little luck and a lot of asking around for favors and covers for work, You, Bucky, Steve, Sam, Wanda, Vis, and all of your respective animals were able to take a long weekend to go camping.

“Are you guys ready to eat? These sandwiches won’t keep for much longer,” Wanda stands up from the green metal cooler, hands full of deli sandwiches that she had made for the trip.

A chorus of agreeance sounded across the cozy little site you had booked as you all gathered around the redhead. Bucky came up beside you, wrapping his metal arm around your waist and placing a soft kiss to the crown of your hair.

“You excited for the weekend, doll?” he murmurs into your hair sweetly before placing a few more kisses there.

You laugh lightly at his endearing behavior and smile up at him, “Of course I am Buck. I may never get the chance to spend this much time outside of my apartment again,” you joke, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss your boyfriend on the sharp line of his jaw.

After everyone had gotten a sandwich, along with whatever they wanted to drink or eat with it, you all squeezed onto the benches of the picnic table and began to chow down. Everyone talked animatedly about what the plans were for the rest of the weekend. Swimming, fishing, “Building a bomb ass fire” as Sam gracefully put it, all of it sounded like a blast to you. If you were being honest, you were just excited to be out of your apartment for more than a few hours at a time.

“So, you’re a potion maker huh?” Steve asks, mouth half full of potato chips.

Bucky lets out a groan and rolls his eyes, “Stevie let the girl breathe for fucks sake,”

The group laughs at Bucky’s annoyance, but then looks at you, “Well, uh yeah… I um was taught at a young age, so it’s something I’m really good at and I know it’s not the best job or anything-” ''It’s an awesome job, kid. I think you’re doing real good. Our own little entrepreneurial witch!” Sam interrupts your babbling, a bright smile on his face as he pats your back just a little too forcefully.

“I mean… I’m not a witch so I obviously don’t really get it like everyone else does, but you seem to be doing really well,” Steve assures you, sending a sense of pride into your chest.

You had managed to impress Steve Rogers… Not bad, Y/n.

The guy is actin’ like he’s Tin Man's father… The hell is that about?

You turn your head over to where Calcifer is curled up on a dark blue camping chair, bright yellow eyes trained on the blonde man who was still stuffing his mouth with food.

Calcifer they’ve been friends for ages, it’s normal.

The fox lets out a quiet snuff in response before getting up from the chair and trotting over to the table.

“Cal do you want some of my turkey?” Bucky asks, taking a few pieces of turkey from his sandwich and setting it beside him on the table.

Calcifer doesn’t answer, just hops up on the bench and silently eats the portion of meat. It’s taken a while for Calcifer to warm up to Bucky… And though progress if few and far between, the two have definitely gotten closer in the past couple of weeks. The biggest issue at first was how crazy Sibi acted around other familiars, but after a while and a good amount of training from you and Bucky, the hyperactive wolf finally settled and was on track to be a wonderful helper for her witch in training.

“So… Do you guys have any plans of moving in together soon?” Wanda hesitates as she not so sneakily takes a chip from Vis’s plate.

You and Bucky look to each other for only a moment before responding, “We’ve been looking at places to go. It’s hard cause we wanna stay in Adelaide but without buyin’ a whole house, there aren’t many options for apartments,” Bucky explains, a small shrug to his shoulders.

“And there’s no way all four of us could fit in my apartment,” you add, copying Bucky’s shrug.

Neither of you were in too much of a hurry to find a place of your own, as you were both content in the homes you were in now. The idea of living with Bucky was quite appealing but you knew the more realistic thing to do would be to wait, save, and research to make sure you both lived in a comfortable environment.

“You guys are so cute it makes me wanna die! Who knew you’d be the ultimate witchy power couple?” Wanda’s swooning caused you to laugh a little as Vision looked at her with mock hurt in his eyes as if to say ‘what are we then?’

Before anyone had a chance to add on, an unexpected voice responded, “I did,”

Your laughter immediately ceased and your attention snapped over to the other side of Bucky’s large frame. Calcifer sat proudly on his haunches as he gazed back at your shocked face.

“W-what do you mean you knew?” Bucky stuttered, equally as shocked as you were.

“I just knew. From the first day you guys met, it was obvious it was that true love bullshit you humans talk about,” the fox brushes off both yours and Bucky’s shock as if it was nothing.

The rest of the group laughs as the pair of you stutter out broken objections to Calcifer’s claim, “A-are you kidding me Cal? That stuff is like… a myth or something,”

“Yeah, I mean I’m in love with Y/n n’ all but-” “You’re in love with me?”

All of the banter around the table halts as five pairs of eyes stare at a now tomato faced Bucky Barnes. “U-um, yes. Yeah-I um, yeah I’m in love with you…” Bucky’s voice is quiet and you’re not sure if he actually said what you heard, but that thought is soon wiped from your mind as an eruption of cheers sounds from your friends.

A grin makes its way onto your face as you stare up at those pretty blue eyes that you really never got tired of looking at, and you can’t help but bring your hand up to run along the stubble of Bucky’s jaw, “I’m in love with you, Buck”

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief and immediately leans down to press his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, both of his large hands framing each side of your face to pull you closer to him.

“Told ya so”

“Shut up you stupid fox!”

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