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#letting his hands give discreet little touches as he moves about his kitchen or gets a plate from in front of zoro
bidisastersanji · 6 months
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In this episode of I can’t do anything without thinking of ZoSan please go listen to “Lay all your love on me” by ABBA and imagine it from Sanji’s perspective I swear. Maybe someday it can be a fic featuring:
Sanji struggling with his feelings of jealousy when women keep accosting and flirting with Zoro
He thinks he’s jealous because he wants the women to be flirting with him but as time passes he realizes he’s being possessive of the stupid marimo and his head is so far up his own ass he doesn’t clock that Zoro has never shown interest in a woman ever
What drives him even more nuts is that this means he feels some resentment towards WOMEN and that’s a big no no these feelings are wrong and bad and should be buried because he’s a gentleman and women can do no wrong and he would never think bad thoughts about a woman his only vice is smoking after all
But now it isn’t true - and he comes to turn with these new feelings- feelings of attraction towards a man, which he hasn’t had before, and it’s just completely overturning his self perception- so he’s bisexual apparently???
At every party his possessive jealousy gets progressively worse, he begs higher powers that zoro notices him, not the women flirting with him, nor the men that he sometimes sees the marimo walk off with into the night
He yearns, he yearns so much for the swordsman’s love, daydreaming about his touch, his voice- the way he calls him by stupid nicknames- completely distracted as he cooks by himself. He wants it all, he wants it so much it hurts but there’s no way Zoro would want him.
When he looks back on it, it’s truly unfair how easily the swordsman made him fall for him- a little talk and a smile and his insides were turning to mush - it’s embarrassing, really, how he as an adult man fell so easily, like shooting a sitting duck
After Thriller Bark it gets worse- sometimes he feels a sharp flash of fear run up his spine, a faint echo of the abject horror he felt when he found the bloodied swordsman on deaths door, and he, panicked and against all logic, needs to find him and make sure he’s ok, needs to have him near. Zoro looks at him quizzically as his excuses when he does find him get weirder and weirder
Back when he was at the Baratie, he’d had a few little love affairs- and Zeff would always scoff at him when he claimed he had found the one and gush about whatever woman had decided to string him along that week, chastising him about the ease at which he gave his affections away- he’d told him repeatedly that it wasn’t love- that he’d know love when it really hit him
And oh god had it hit him now. Pining from Momoiro island does nothing for his poor little heart and his mind goes crazy over not knowing where his nakama are and what they’re doing and he’s definitely not worried about the marimo possibly being off on some island with a better, stronger, more beautiful man than him
Iva and the candies notice him moping and decide to coach him to get his man
Sanji’s mindset is completely different two years later - he’s determined to get ALL of Zoro’s attention, his love, his devotion, and he’s not afraid of using every weapon the Candies of Kamabakka taught him
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harryhandstan · 3 years
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prompt: harry wakes up early on starbucks cup release days and surprises you by buying all the ones he thinks you’ll like. he’s usually able to escape the paps but this time they catch him and he ends up having to explain it in his next interview and gets all shy and can’t stop blushing.
a/n: hello all!! first I want to apologize for my 4 month long writing absence. life just has not been kind to me lately and unfortunately zapped a lot of my creativity energy, but I’m happy to have something done now! hopefully I can continue and keep a more consistent schedule for the remainder of this year!
immense thank you’s are owed to my kind friends @tobesolonely and @meetmymouth for the encouragement to find my creative spark for writing again and for being amazing betas! and to @taintedwonder for the lovely idea! @theharriediaries​ was so sweet to beta for me as well!!
word count: 2.1k
writing tag | masterlist | tiktok inspo 
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Harry was usually smarter than this. He had a schedule, a plan, a way to get in and out pretty quickly without being seen. 
But today, he’d lingered too long at the mugs, curious if you’d want one of those as well. Your go-to was iced coffee, even year round in the winter you would prefer something cold over anything warm. He was thinking though, of the nights you were stressed and wanted a cup of soothing tea before bed, or those slower mornings where you don’t have to rush and a mug of coffee fits nicely in your hand while he admires you from across the kitchen table.
By the time he’s decided that yes, you do need this mug with the pastel rainbow print to add to your collection, along with a few of the other cups he thinks you’ll adore and a fresh bag of your favorite flavor of coffee, there’s already a small crowd of people forming in the lobby of the coffee shop and he hopes that he can get through them without being recognized as usual; prays that it’s only the regulars filing in for an early morning fix of caffeine before they rush off to start their day.
The barista thankfully is quick, skillfully giving him his total before rushing off to make the drinks he ordered for the two of you as well. He sees the way her eyes keep darting to him though, knows after years of experience that she knows who he is and is trying to work up the courage to say something to him or ask for a photo. He almost considers offering, she’s been so nice not to draw any attention to him, maybe something discreet could be pulled off. 
In the end he chooses not to, not wanting to assume that’s why she keeps looking over at him. It could be that he still has the hood of his sweatshirt tucked over his beanie or the fact that he’s now walking out of the shop with a small handful of the brown shopping bags with the familiar green logo imprinted on the front.
He breathes a sigh of relief when he makes it back to his car without anyone stopping him. He’s so distracted by securing the bags in the backseat he fails to hear the small clicks of the camera not too far away.
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There’s a small comfort in the quietness of your shared apartment when he returns. While he loves coming home to the sound of you dancing around the kitchen making breakfast, his favorite is getting to wake you up himself. There’s a sweet softness in the way the side of your face rests against your pillow, mouth parted slightly and a gentle snore vibrating through your chest. It never fails to make him smile. He cherished the way you inhale faintly, stretching your limbs before blinking a few times, adjusting to the new day you’re waking up to. If he was there, already awake, your eyes always found him before anything else.
This morning is no different, except for the confusion on your face when you find him sitting on the edge of the bed instead of snuggled next to you. 
“You’re up to something, I can tell.”  You’re propped up enough now to accept the coffee he’s holding out for you. You take a few small sips, sighing and letting your head fall back against the headboard as you savor the taste.
“M’that easy to read, huh?” He chuckles, his hand on your thigh now, warming your skin even through the blanket, “Well..would you like your surprise here or will you be joining me in the kitchen while I make you breakfast?”
“Oh I get a surprise and breakfast today? What’s the occasion? Little early for my birthday, H.” 
“Don’t need an occasion to spoil my girl, do I?”
“I guess not.” 
You shrug, trying not to let the guilt bubble up enough to where it flashes across your face. One of his loudest love languages had always been gift giving, a quality about him you thought was wonderful, but still had a hard time accepting. You had to be careful about mentioning things you may want around Harry, he would use any excuse to treat you.
He’s rambling off his reasoning already as he leads you into the kitchen and settles you in one of the tall chairs next to the counter. He always ends his explanation with “I know you told me not to, but…” followed up by what you’re sure to him sounds like a very logical justification for why you need/deserve whatever he was gifting you. There’s nothing out of the ordinary of your regular kitchen set up this morning though, so you do what you normally do when he announces a surprise for you; let him take the lead, not wanting to take away from his excitement. 
“So..surprise or breakfast first?” He stands on the other side of the counter now, his hoodie and beanie discarded, wearing a t-shirt you were sure you bought for yourself but he seems to have laid claim to.
“Breakfast, please. If you don’t mind.” 
“‘Course not. Any requests, baby?”
Your heart flutters for a moment, just as it does each time he uses that particular term of affection for you. He’s already opened the refrigerator, scanning over options for what he could make for the two of you. You recover long enough to tell him no, that whatever he wants to make would be fine, sitting back and enjoying the view as he cracks a few eggs into a bowl.
You don’t even notice that you’re staring until he turns and catches your eye, “What? Did I get a shell in the eggs or something?”
You giggle as he even picks up the clear bowl of eggs that he’s already scrambled and seasoned, even going so far as to swirl his finger through the liquid to double check before you can stop him.
“No, it’s just..I can’t get over the fact that you’re making breakfast for me while wearing my t-shirt.”
“S’it yours?” He glances down at it, “Thought it was mine, sorry..”
There’s a smirk on his face as he turns back to the stove, and you know just by seeing that he knows you don’t mind; you love seeing him in your clothes as much as he adores seeing you in his.  
It’s not long before he’s presenting you with a plate, sitting next to you with his own plate in front of him. When you don’t immediately dig in, he leans over to inspect the food, worried that maybe he’d overdone the eggs or your toast was slightly more brown than you liked. 
So when you say, “You’ve forgotten something very important, haven’t you?” he panics, thinking maybe he should’ve taken the time to include fruit to balance the meal. You take pity on him, not making him wait too long before you lean in and he instantly softens, realizing what you’re asking for. 
He meets you the rest of the way, lips soft against yours, the taste of the coffee you’ve both had lingering for a moment before he pulls away, “Very important. How could I ever have forgotten?”
When you’ve both finished eating, he downs the last of his coffee and stacks your now empty plates to take to the sink, pecking your forehead with another quick kiss, “Alright, close your eyes. Count to 20.”
You begin to count off in your head, and you hear his voice, a bit further away, “Out loud, angel.”
There’s a rustling of bags getting closer as you count, and you can even hear a few clinks as they come closer. You can feel him moving around you, positioning things perfectly for when you open your eyes. 
He’s still behind you when you finish counting, hands squeezing your shoulders to urge you to open your eyes. When you do, you immediately recognize the bags and know exactly what he’s done.
“Oh no. Absolutely not. This is too much, Harry. I let you spoil me with little things here and there, but I cannot accept this.”
Sitting in front of you are..you stop to count them now; 1, 2, 3, 4..6 bags from Starbucks. You know from experience that each one of them contains 2 cups or mugs. You’re sure at least one of them also includes your favorite roast of coffee. He had done this before around Christmas time, when you’d mentioned how adorable a few of the ones from the holiday collection had been, not thinking that he would go back later without you and buy all the ones you’d touched or admired.  
He ignores your refusal, “You can take back any you don’t like. Go on,” He peeks inside one of the bags closest to him and then pushes it closer to you, “Start with this one.”
“Harry, really..”
“Don’t think, just open. If you really won’t accept any of them then I’ll take ‘em back and buy you something from somewhere else.”
“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You try your best to look serious, but you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, “Thank you, H.”
You finally go through most of the bags, offering oohs and ahhs and even a few squeals of joy at certain ones. 
“I think I got all the ones you’d pick for yourself. Saw you eyeing one or two the other day and the others I just guessed.”
He had done very well in choosing for you, even going so far as to get the two of you a matching pair of the kind that changed colors with the temperature. 
“For our smoothies.” He explains when you give him a particularly soft look at the idea of matching with him. 
“Also got us a matching set of these,” He skips to the last bag, too eager to wait for you to open it yourself, revealing the mug he’d taken the extra time to select, “For our Sunday morning tea. Or if you change your mind and ever want a hot coffee.”
All you can do is repeat the same expression of gratitude as before you had opened them, “Thank you again, H. I love them all, really. No more though, alright? We’re running out of cabinet space. Did you go to our regular spot or a different one so you wouldn’t be recognized?” 
“Different one. Can’t believe I wasn’t spotted though. Must’ve been too early for the paps to be out and about.”
“Or maybe you aren’t as interesting as you think you are, babe. Harry Styles coming out of a Starbucks is old news now.” 
His eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, “Oh is it now?”
“Mhmm. You’re just plain boring now, H.” You shrug, peeling at the price tag on the bottom of one of the cups, avoiding his gaze; knowing if you look at him you’ll break into a fit of laughter. 
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He’s impossibly calm, just like he is before any interview he does. 
You sit across the room from where he’s currently getting his hair done. The stylist was nervous, understandably so, her hands unsure at first. It only takes a few moments of being near Harry; working his quiet, delicate magic of putting anyone he’s near at ease. By the time his hair is finished he’s pulled a few laughs from her and she leaves the room with a big beaming smile and a wave to the both of you.
Now that you’re alone again, he beckons you closer and tugs you down to sit in his lap, despite your protests of the possibility of wrinkling his incredibly expensive suit. 
“Don’t care,” He leans up to press a kiss to your neck, keeping his face tucked there in your warmth, “Just want you close for a moment.”
Normally you would run your fingers through his hair, but you don’t dare do that now, hand drifting to the side of his face instead, “Not nervous are you, H?”
He lets you gently push him back enough to see his face again, “Never. Just happy to have you here with me, that’s all.”   
It’s not until he’s in front of the audience, presented with the evidence of just a few days before, displayed on a screen for all to see. He had been caught, despite his confidence of getting away. He falters for only a beat, head down in hopes to hide the blush spreading high along his cheeks. He finds you in the crowd, sending a bright smile your way before he shrugs, turning his attention back to the host.
“What can I say? My sunshine likes her coffee.” 
//
tag list: @harrysblackcoat​, @summertime-pills​ 
thank you for reading!! as always likes, rbs, and feedback is welcome and appreciated!!
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crackheadgeminibby · 3 years
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you can't change the past
pairing: steve rogers x wilson!reader, bucky barnes x wilson!reader
warnings: angst, language, TW mentions of depression, suicidal thoughts and abortion
word count: 5.1k
a/n: i rewatched endgame and remembered how much steve leaving annoyed the shit out of me so there. also i 100% took that ripple quote from x-men so yeah, enjoy:)
i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform
not my picture
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You’re leaning on a tree next to your brother as you wait for Banner to finish calibrating the time machine. In the distance, you see Steve hugging Bucky before making his way towards you. You stand up as Steve gets to your level. He smiles softly before looking towards Sam,
“Hey, can you give us a second, please?”
Sam nods before walking towards Bucky and striking up a conversation with him. You smile up at Steve before stroking his cheek and asking,
“What’s up?”
Steve’s eyes flutter close as he leans into your palm before saying, barely above a whisper,
“I’m not coming back, sweetheart.”
Your hand falls from Steve’s face as a frown etches itself onto your face.
“What?”
Steve slowly opens his eyes, looking into yours, before replying,
“When Tony and I went to 1970 for the Tesseract and the Pym particles, I saw Peggy… I thought I had moved on but… We’re meant to be together.”
You feel a lump forming in your throat as you take a step back from Steve, hurt clear on your face.
“I thought we were?”, you ask, voice cracking at the end.
“So did I… But when I saw her again, it just felt like the universe was giving me a second chance and I can’t not take it.”
As tears start to fall down your face, the air around suddenly feels freezing as a shiver shakes your body. You look towards the ground, trying to find something, anything to say. You’re not sure how long you stay there but you’re pulled back to reality when Banner tells Steve that the machine is ready.
“Y/N… Please, say something.”
Your eyes stay fixated on the ground beneath your feet, “What does Bucky think about this?”
You hear Steve’s breath stop shortly before he exhales slowly, “I didn’t tell him.”
You scoff before shaking your head slowly and kicking a pebble.
“You know, Steve, there’s a theory in quantum physics that time is immutable. It’s like a river: you can throw a pebble in and create a ripple, but the current always corrects itself. No matter what you do the river just keeps flowing in the same direction.”
You look up at Steve, before finishing, “You can’t change the past, Steve. But thank you for making your feelings about me crystal clear.”
You turn around, practically running back to your car, driving back to the tower.
Through your tears and sobs, you don’t hear that someone has followed you back and has entered your room. A hand softly touches your back, startling you, as you turn around rapidly, whispering, hopeful, “Steve?”
“Sorry, doll. It’s just me…”, you hear Bucky’s soft voice answer.
You feel your sobs wracking through your body even harder than before as Bucky climbs into your bed, taking you into his arms. You cry into his chest, listening to his heartbeat until you eventually hear his breathing become ragged.
Through your teary vision, you look up at Bucky, now also crying, as he looks down at you,
“He left me too, you know.”
You wrap your arms around Bucky, trying to comfort him while also letting yourself cry.
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As soon as Steve had returned all of the stones to their respective times and places, he had made a beeline for Peggy’s house. He had made sure to look up all the information he needed beforehand, so he didn’t have to wait a second before making his way to her.
Walking up to her front door, a bouquet of flowers in hand, he could feel the slightly chilly fall Washington air nipping at his cheeks with the sun setting in the distance.
Knocking on the door, Steve adjusts his tie, feeling the anticipation rise in his throat. After what seems like forever, the door to the Carter residence opens, Peggy herself standing on the threshold.
She is visibly shaken as her eyes widen immeasurably before she whispers, “Steve?”
Steve smiles back at her, replying, “Hey Peggy… I’m back.”
Peggy glances over her shoulder before pushing Steve farther away from the house, closing the door behind her. She crosses her arms over her chest before looking up at Steve,
“Steve, what are you doing here?”
Steve’s smile falters before stutters, “What do you mean? I came back… For you.”
Peggy shakes her head softly before answering, “Steve… I’m married. To a man I love. And I’m pregnant.”
Steve looks down at her and for the first time, he notices her inflated belly. She was not very far from giving birth.
“But, what about us?”
Peggy frowns, “Steve, we missed our chance… Gabe and I are happy.”
Steve lets his arms fall to his side, the bouquet of flowers now upside down, petals flying away in the wind. He opens and closes his mouth once, twice, three times, unable to find anything to say.
He looks at his feet before mumbling, “Can I just stay the night? I don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ll be gone tomorrow morning.”
Peggy sighs deeply before reluctantly nodding her head and opening the door, letting Steve into the house.
As Steve falls asleep that night, he only sees your face from the last time he saw you. Hurt and anger, maybe even disgust on your face. He thinks about the ways in which he will try to win you back, despite the amount of time he had been away. He wasn’t sure how long his one day spent in the past will have been in your life. But he hopes that not enough time has passed for you to have forgotten about him.
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As it turns out, five years had passed since he had left. He was confused at first when he came back. The machine Banner had left in the woods behind the Avengers facility had been left there but it was full of dust. The facility, which had been destroyed when he left, was now completely rebuilt and vibrant with life. He had been discreet, walking through the woods to get back to the city without being seen.
From there, he had been able to find a disguise to do research on where you were now. He had learned that you had moved back to Louisiana with Sam and were currently residing there.
As soon as he found out, he rented a car and made his way to you. The road was long but no place on this Earth was too far for him to travel so he could see you again.
When he got to Louisiana, he only had to ask one person to be pointed in your direction. Apparently, the Wilson family was like royalty in these parts. So, he was surprised when he arrived at the house that was indicated to him to find the door widely open, seemingly no one in sight.
Steve walks up the steps leading to the house, hearing someone running towards the door. He is taken aback when he sees a small girl stop suddenly in front of the door. She stares at Steve with wide eyes; she couldn’t be more than 6 years old, with short curly hair secured into pigtails and soft amber eyes.
Still staring at him, the child opens her mouth, “Mommy, there’s a man at the door!”
He hears feet padding their way to the door before he hears, “Lizzie, baby, how many times have I told you not to go to the door a-”
You stop abruptly in your tracks as you see before you the man you thought you would never see again. Your breath hitches as a lump grows in your throat.
“Steve?”
Steve smiles softly, “Hey sweetheart.”
You feel the air thickening as your eyes start to sting. You hold your hand out towards your child, setting it on her shoulder, before saying, “Elizabeth, go see Uncle Sam on the dock, okay?”
Completely unbothered, the child responds, “Okay, mommy.”, turning around and running towards what seems to be the kitchen.
You stay rooted to your spot, unable to move or say a single word and staring at Steve like he’s going to vanish before your eyes.
He takes slow steps towards you as if he’s afraid that if he moves too quickly, you’ll run away like a wild animal. He stops when he’s in arms reach of you.
He smiles a little before saying, jokingly, “No welcome home hug for me?”
Before you can even register what happened, your hand has already hit Steve across the face. You feel the heat of the slap warming up your hand as you clench it into a fist at your side.
Steve looks at you again, understanding that this was clearly the wrong thing to say to you. He softly strokes his cheek.
“Guess I deserved that.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes before asking, “What the fuck are you doing here, Steve? I thought you were going back to Peggy?”
Steve shakes his head almost imperceptibly before saying, “That didn’t really work out…”
You scoff again, “So, what? Peggy rejects you and now you come back to get your second choice, is that it?” You shake your head, “You know, I almost didn’t mind being second-best to her all those years ago. But now? You can go to hell, Steve.”
He stares at you, almost like he’s not even listening to you, before asking, “Is she mine?” He bites his bottom lip, looking next to you where pictures of the child and you through the years adorn the walls.
“She seems about the right age, you know?”
You clench your fists, even tighter than before, which you didn’t know was possible. You can feel the blood gradually leaving your hands as you clench your jaw and look at Steve straight in the eyes, “No. She’s not. Not that it’s any of your business?”
Steve frowns in confusion, “Well then, who-”
He’s cut off as loud footsteps resonate through the walls of the house.
“Hey doll. Lizzie just came running down to the boat talking about how there’s a man in the house.”
Bucky’s voice, despite him being far enough away for you not to see him, travels perfectly to the spot in which you are still motionless. Bucky finally stops when he sees Steve standing on the porch.
He doesn’t hesitate for a single second before clenching his jaw and saying lowly, “Get out.”
Steve puts his hands up in surrender about to say something before Bucky screams, making you jump slightly, “Get out of my house! NOW!”
Steve looks between you and him, waiting for you to advocate on his behalf, but you had stopped doing that a long time ago. You stare back at Steve, almost challenging him to defy Bucky.
As Steve doesn’t move, Bucky walks heavily to the door, making you think that he is about to start a fight with Steve, you say, “Bucky, don’t.”
Bucky stops in front of Steve and takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down before slamming the door in Steve’s face. When Bucky turns back to you, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in.
Your vision starts to get blurry, and your ears feel clogged as you faintly hear Bucky still next to the door, cursing Steve out. Your lungs burn as if air seems to be unable to find its air through your body as your legs tremble. Your head starts to spin and before you can understand what’s happening, your legs give out making you crumple on the floor.
You distantly hear Bucky call your name, but your brain seems unable to focus on his voice trying to pull yourself out of your current state. You feel a pair of strong arms holding you to a hard chest followed by a pair of soft hands stroking your hair and face.
After what seems like forever trying to fight against your own body, you let go and everything turns black.
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When your eyes flutter open, you’re lying on your bed and the room is pitch black. Multiple hours have visibly passed but the room is completely silent. You push yourself up to the headboard, looking around you before getting up. Your legs are still shaky, so you lean on your bed to help guide you to the door.
As you walk through the halls of the house, you start hearing hushed voices in the living room. Stopping on the threshold, you look at Sam, Sarah and Bucky sitting around the dining table.
“Hey. What happened?”, you croak out.
All their heads snap in your direction and Bucky almost immediately walks towards you, enveloping you in a hug.
“Oh doll, I didn’t know you were awake. How are you feeling? Are you okay?”
You tear yourself out of Bucky’s arms before looking at Sam and Sarah confusedly. They were looking at you like you just came back from the dead or something. Bucky stands next to you, also analyzing your face.
You frown, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Oh my God, what is it, guys? Stop looking at me like that!”
Sam gets up from his chair before gently stroking your arms.
“Do you remember anything from today?”
You frown again before slowly shaking your head. “Should I have something special to remember?”
Sam nods apprehensively before replying, “Steve was here today. Apparently, you guys talked for a while then Bucky got here, and you passed out.”
You rack your brain, trying to remember what he was talking about before you realize. Your body tenses up and you feel your breathing become ragged.
Bucky feels that and guides you to the dining table, making you sit down where he was before. He kneels in front of you and takes your hands in his.
“Doll, I want you to breathe with me, okay?”
You can feel your head start to spin and your vision becomes blurred, but you focus on Bucky’s voice.
“Deep breath in…”
He inhales deeply, making sure you’re following along.
“And out…”
He exhales deeply, looking into your eyes. You can feel your vision start to clarify.
“Again. In…” Inhale.
“Out…” Exhale. Your head stops spinning.
“One last time, in…” You inhale deeply through your nose.
“And, out…” You exhale through your mouth.
Bucky looks deeply into your eyes before stroking your cheeks. You shiver slightly from the difference in temperature of his hands that are both on your face. He gets up and sees your eyes sending him a panicked look.
“It’s okay… I’m just going to sit down here, okay?”
He sits down on the chair next to you before taking your hand in his. You look at Sarah and Sam, visibly trying to find something, anything to say.
After you all stay seated in silence for about 5 minutes, you look up at them.
“I want to see him.”
Sarah frowns, reaching for your hand that’s resting on the table.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, Y/N? You didn’t… fare so well last time, you know?”, she says softly.
You nod, swallowing thickly.
“I know but he caught me by surprise. This time, I’ll know that I’ll see him so I can prepare myself.”
You can feel Bucky tensing up next to you. Sam clears his throat.
“Why do you want to see him? He knocked you up, broke your heart and left you for some 100-year-old woman he kissed once.”
“Sam!”, Sarah chastises.
“Can always count on you for the honesty.”, you say sourly, side-eyeing Sam.
“First of all, he didn’t know I was pregnant. Hell, I didn’t know I was pregnant until… the accident...”, you say silently.
You had been battling depression since your early teens, but it had never been that bad. Sam and Sarah had started to recognize the signs of your mental withdrawal almost immediately after Steve had left. About three weeks after Steve left, you had tried to take your own life by crashing your car in the lake behind the house. Bucky had found you just in time and brought you to the hospital.
The doctors had insisted on doing a complete medical check-up and had found that you were 2 months pregnant. You were ready to tell the doctor that you wanted to abort but Sam and Sarah had convinced you otherwise. They had told you that keeping the baby could be like a piece of Steve in your life and it could help you heal.
At first, you didn’t believe them, but they ended up being right. The baby saved you, giving your life purpose, something you thought you would never find again.
Bucky, Sam and Sarah had all pitched in to help but Bucky had realized that his desire to be there for you was more than guilt for his best friend leaving you. He had fallen in love with you. So, when he had asked you out, you had said yes. When he had proposed, you had also said yes.
Bucky was making you the happiest you had ever been in a long time. And you were now pregnant with your second child. You had learned about two weeks ago and you had announced it last weekend.
But you knew that, if you didn’t get closure from your time with Steve, you would never be able to be completely happy with Bucky.
You shake your head slightly, making yourself come back to your current situation.
“And second of all, I need to do it. For myself. But also, for my two children. I can’t be the mom they deserve if I don’t get some kind of closure from this whole… situation.”
Bucky huffs before getting up and walking quickly to your shared bedroom. You sigh, rubbing your forehead.
“Sam, can you try to track him down, please? I need to get this done soon.”
Sam looks at you for a couple of seconds before sighing and nodding his head.
“Thanks. Good night, guys.”
You walk to your bedroom, opening the door. When you walk in, you see that Bucky is laying down under the covers, his back to you. You walk slowly to the bed before kneeling down on it.
“Bucky.”
Nothing.
“Buck.”
He exhales loudly but doesn’t budge. You sigh deeply, stroking his back with one hand while the other turns him around.
“Bucky, baby, please, just listen to me.”
He rolls on his back but stares at the ceiling, avoiding your eyes. You sigh again before sitting down next to him, folding your hands in your lap.
“Look, Bucky, I understand that you’re upset. He hurt me but he also hurt you. He left us both and you’re allowed to be angry with him and deal with his return in whatever way you want but you can’t be mad at me for wanting to deal with it in the way that I want.”
Bucky doesn’t say anything, still staring at the ceiling. You exhale slowly, putting a hand on Bucky’s cheek.
“Bucky, come on. Say something.”
You sigh deeply, “Bucky, I-”
“I’m scared, okay?”, he says loudly, turning his head to look at you. You jump slightly, unprepared for a response from him, much less such a loud response.
You frown, tilting your head, “Scared of what?”
He turns his head back to stare at the ceiling.
“Bucky, you need to tell me.”
He puts his hands over his face, slightly muffling his answer, “I’m scared that you’re gonna see him and talk to him and fall back in love with him. And then, you’re gonna leave with Lizzie and then I’m gonna be left alone all over again…”,
You feel tears pooling in your eyes as you reach over to put your hands on his shoulders. You tug at him softly, indicating that you want him to get up. Bucky sits up, staring at your lap before you reach over and put a hand on his chin, lifting his head to look at you.
You stare into his eyes, also full of unshed tears, before saying,
“Bucky, I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?”
He nods at you before whispering “okay.”
“First of all, Steve doesn’t know that Lizzie is his, okay? When he asked, I said no. And we’re going to keep it that way because you are her dad, Bucky, no one else. Second of all, it’s not like I’m going on a date with the man. I just want to talk to him so I can get closure. And third of all, in case you forgot, I’m wearing your ring on my finger, not his. And that’s how it’s gonna stay, okay?”
Bucky looks at you as tears start to fall down his face. He leans towards you, leaving a short but passionate kiss on your lips.
He lays back down on the bed before taking you in his arms as you listen to his steady heartbeat.
You look up at him, whispering, “I love you, Bucky Barnes.”
Bucky hums appreciatively before kissing the top of your head and answering, “I love you more.”
That night, you fall asleep with Bucky’s arm around your waist and his fingers intertwined with yours.
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When you wake up the next morning, Bucky has already left the bed. You know that he’s either on a run or working on the boat with Sam.
You get up, brushing your teeth and getting ready before heading out to the dock. As you thought, you see Bucky and Sam working on the boat. They’re silent and you know it’s because you’re supposed to see Steve today.
“Hey Sam!”, you call out.
Sam turns towards you before meeting you halfway into the boat.
“Did you find him?”
He looks at you, raising an eyebrow before scoffing.
“Please. It took me less than 10 minutes. I told him to come at 11:30 so he should be here any minute.”
“Okay, thanks.” You look down at Bucky, still hard at work on the boat’s engine.
“Buck, can I talk to you for a second, please?” He drops the tool that was in his hand before walking up the stairs of the boat and stopping to sit down on the dock, not looking at you once.
You sit down next to him, before taking your hand in his.
“I’m just gonna talk to him, okay?” Bucky continues staring at his shoes but nods softly.
“I love you, you know that, right?”
He finally looks up at you and nods, murmuring, “I love you too.”
You smile at him, kissing his cheek.
“I-”
“Y/N, he’s here.”, you hear Sarah’s voice call out.
Bucky instantly tenses up and looks at you with panic in his eyes. You give a warm smile and whisper, “It’s gonna be okay, I promise. As soon as we’re done, I’m gonna come find you and then we can go do something fun together all day, okay?”
Bucky nods, sniffling softly, before heading back inside the boat.
You get up and follow Sarah to the backyard where Steve is sitting on a bench. As soon as he sees you, he gets up and adjusts his shirt. You feel the warm Louisiana air brushing against your skin as you take deep breaths, approaching him.
When you get to the bench, Sarah stops a couple of feet behind you. You look at her and nod, silently saying that you’re fine. Steve walks towards you and pulls out a bouquet of flowers, handing it to you.
You reluctantly take it and sit down at one end of the bench. Steve follows your actions and sits down on the other end.
“You look beautiful.”
Your breath hitches as you put the flowers on the bench between you.
“Look, Steve, I didn’t-”
You stop and frown as you see a purple bruise under his left eye. You instinctively reach up to touch it and he hisses as your warm hand touches his face.
“What happened?”
“Let’s just say that Sam was less than happy to see me.”
You chuckle softly. You should have known that he would have done something like that.
You put your hand back in your lap, trying to find the right words to express your feelings.
“I wanted to see you because I need closure for my family. That’s all.”
Steve looks at you longingly, “You always were one of the strongest women I knew. And beautiful, loving, caring, compass-”
“Look, Steve, I didn’t ask Sam to call you here so we could reminisce about old times. Why did you come back?”
Steve looks at the ground before clearing his throat, “When Peggy rejected me, it made me realize that I left the woman that I truly loved. And I thought that I could come back, and we could talk and-”
“I’m engaged”, you blurt out. You slap a hand over your mouth, shocked at yourself.
Steve looks at you and finally notices the diamond ring on your left hand.
“Oh… I, umm… Who is it?”
“Umm Bucky.”
Steve frowns, “You’re engaged to my best friend?”
You snort and mutter, “I don’t think he would call himself that anymore but sure.”
“But how?”
You scoff, “Well, when you get abandoned by the same person, you kinda find some things to bond about.”
“And it is… you know, serious?”, Steve asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes.
“Are you fucking serious right now? You leave me, abandon me- us, for some girl and then you ask if it’s serious?” You get up, now completely furious and screaming,
“You can’t just waltz in here after five fucking years, after destroying me so bad I almost killed our child and then ask me if I’m serious about the love of my life!”
Steve seems shocked as his mouth stays open, “Wait, I thought you said she wasn’t mine?”
You stare at him before groaning loudly, “Oh, fuck me!”
Steve gets up, a determined look on his face.
“I want to meet her.”
You exhale deeply, calming yourself down before looking at the lake and crossing your arms.
“No.”
Steve stares you down, “I deserve to meet her.”
Your head snaps towards him, “You don’t deserve jack shit, Steve.”
Your vision becomes blurry with tears as you start hitting his chest aimlessly, “You left! You abandoned me! You deserve nothing!”
You feel strong arms pulling you back as you thrash around. Bucky’s soft voice rings in your ears,
“It’s okay, doll, it’s me. Calm down.”
Bucky’s hands cup your face, and he wipes your tears away with his thumbs as you calm down. When you stop crying, he pulls you into a hug and you feel his chest vibrate as he speaks lowly, “It’s time for you to go, Steve.”
You hear Steve’s equally deep voice from behind you, “I’m not going anywhere until I meet my child.”
Bucky chuckles humorlessly as you let go of Bucky and turn towards Steve, “She is not your child. She is Y/N and I’s little girl, and she will not be anywhere near you.”
As if on cue, Lizzie comes running out of the house.
“Mommy!”
You pick up your little girl and wrap your arms around her. She tries, but fails, to whisper in your ear, “Mommy, why is the man from yesterday here again?”
You chuckle at her lack of discretion. You stroke her back as you reply,
“He’s one of Mommy and Daddy’s old friend. But he was just about to leave.” Lizzie detaches her arms from around you before sliding down to the ground and walking to Steve. He kneels down to be eye-level with her and she holds her hand out to him.
“Hi. My name is Elizabeth, but everyone calls me Lizzie.” Steve shakes her little hand and responds, “Hi Lizzie, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Steve.”
Lizzie frowns at Steve before saying, “Are the bad man Steve that hurt my mommy?”
A look of shock draws itself on Steve’s face as he stares at Lizzie.
Lizzie turns towards you and runs back before saying, “I want him to go!”
Bucky laughs under his breath before saying, “Okay, Lizzie, come on. Daddy’s gonna make you some lunch.”
Lizzie walks over to Bucky taking his large metal hand in her smaller one before walking rapidly towards the house.
Steve stands up, putting his hands in his pockets.
“Why did she say that?”
You scoff as you cross your arms and look at him, “Because she caught me crying my eyes out one day and she asked what was wrong with me. So, Sarah told her the story about the bad man Steve that hurt me and made me sad sometimes.”
Steve detaches his eyes from yours, guilt written all over his face.
“I’m sorry”, he whispers.
“I didn’t know how bad I hurt you when I left and I shouldn’t have come back here like everything was going to be like it was when I left.”
Steve looks back at you, tears in his eyes. “I’ll leave and never come back. And congratulations on the engagement. I’m sure that Bucky and you are going to be great together.”
Steve starts to walk back towards the front yard as you stay standing in front of the bench. You hear the motorcycle start and before you can stop yourself, your legs are running towards him to stop him from leaving.
He turns off the motorcycle when he sees you in front of him.
You take a deep breath, clenching and unclenching your fists a couple of times before you say, “I forgive you. And I’m sorry I lied about Lizzie not being yours, I just… I don’t know.”
Steve nods slightly and starts his motorcycle again before riding off towards the road. You let you a breath and walk to the house.
When you see Bucky and Lizzie in the kitchen, playfully preparing some lunch, you smile bigger than you have in what felt like forever.
Your mind and your heart were finally at peace.
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hi @saiyanprincessswanie i would love it if you could check this out for your reading list, hope you enjoy🤍
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hyungieyoongi · 3 years
Text
Time: “Run Away to You” Part 6
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“You’d think a year apart would be enough for me to fall out of love with you. I think I’d still love you even if we spent fifty years apart from each other.”
Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader
Word Count: 2.0K
Genre: Angst + Fluff (the end is here, and I’m emotional)
Series Masterlist: Run Away to You
Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.
Part 5 // Epilogue
---
Yoongi’s arm was draped over your waist, his form curled against yours. His even breathing against your neck signaled to you that he was still asleep, so you gently shuffled toward the edge of the bed, trying not to wake him. Yoongi’s arm fell onto the now empty spot beside him, but he didn’t stir.
You threw on Yoongi’s oversized sweatshirt from the day before to save yourself from the draft in the apartment, tiptoeing out of the room as Yoongi slept. You looked back at him before you shut the door to the bedroom. His dark hair was messy, pale skin warming in the early morning sunshine. You heart seemed to swell with affection at the sight.
You looked in several kitchen cabinets in the unfamiliar apartment before finally finding a bag of coffee grounds. You meditatively went through the steps of boiling water on the stove and measuring out the grounds.
You were just pressing the coffee grounds down in the French press when you felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind, Yoongi’s lips landing on the space between your neck and the collar of his sweatshirt. You sighed at the feeling, leaning back against his chest.
“Good morning,” he hummed against your ear, his voice raspy with sleep.
“Good morning, I’m making coffee,” you said, slightly flustered as Yoongi continued to move his mouth against your neck. He chuckled; you felt the sound vibrate in his chest against you.
“I can see that,” he teased. You spun around, his hands moving to your back to accommodate your new position.
“Here I am, trying to be nice and make you coffee before you wake up, and this is the thanks I get?” you quirked an eyebrow at Yoongi. He scrunched his nose trying not to smile at you teasing him back, but the corners of his lips quickly turned up in a grin.
“You’re right, thank you,” Yoongi kissed your forehead, pulling away from you in search of two mugs to pour the now-finished coffee into.
“What is your schedule like today?” you asked as he handed you the hot mug, his fingers brushing against yours.
“I have rehearsals for an upcoming performance most of the morning, and then I was planning on working in the studio for a while. You could work in there with me, if you’d like. On your book or something.” You nodded absentmindedly in agreement while you sipped your coffee.
“That’s a good idea, actually. I’m feeling rather inspired today,” you said with a coy smile, Yoongi’s face blushing as you looked at him.
“You remember how to get there?” Yoongi asked, placing his mug on the counter next to him.
“Yes, of course.”
“I’ll see you later, then? I better get going so I can get ready before the boys have too many questions,” Yoongi scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish.
“Right. Do you want this back?” you asked, pulling at the sweatshirt you had stolen from him that morning.
“No, keep it, it looks better on you,” Yoongi said, leaning forward to plant a sweet kiss to your lips before heading out the door. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt so many butterflies in your stomach.  
---
We’ve seen a few more pictures pop up, but they don’t clearly show your face, just you and Yoongi going into your building. Your name has come up a few times, but there still isn’t a definitive theory that it’s you. I’ll keep you updated. – Marianne
You read the text from Marianne, your sigh alerting Yoongi that something was wrong. He glanced over at you from his desk, giving you a curious look.
The two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine over the past week. He would leave your apartment early in the morning before his rehearsals and meetings for the day. You would meet him in his studio later, both of you working side-by-side on your projects. Per the label and Marianne’s instructions, you were still on lockdown, so the second half of your book was coming along nicely with how much time you had to devote to it.
But the clock that had begun ticking in your head since Marianne had given you your two-week deadline to figure out your next move was rapidly running out of time.
You were getting daily updates from Marianne, and, while you had hoped the rumors would die down after this past week of hiding, they seemed to keep stirring. Marianne had warned you yesterday that it might be time to get ahead of it.
“You need to talk to him, Y/N. We can’t make the next move unless you know for certain that he is on the same page as you. I know that you two have been in a bit of a whirlwind of being together again, but it has been a carefully constructed bubble,” Marianne warned.
“He told me he wasn’t going to let me go, Marianne. And I can’t let him go, either,” you said to her over the phone.
“Still, just talk to him, okay? I’ll handle the label, but I need you to do this for you.”
“Okay.”
Yoongi waited for you to explain your odd behavior, fully facing you now.
“Everything alright?” he asked.
“More pictures,” you explained. “This time they’re of both of us going into my building. Looks like it might be time to find a new place to live,” you tried to say the last part jokingly, but it came out strained.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Yoongi said, suddenly standing. He reached his hand out to you to pull you up. He intertwined your fingers together, holding your hand tightly as you made your way into the private courtyard outside of the building.
You walked for a bit in silence, trying to find the right words to say.
“Yoongi, I think we need to talk,” you said, breaking the silence. He stumbled a bit in surprise at your statement, his grip on your hand slackening enough for you to pull it from his grasp. He righted himself, frowning at your hand that was now firmly by your side in a fist. You needed a clear mind to talk to him, and your mind was never truly clear if you were touching him.
“Is this about the new photos?” he asked. You nodded.
“Marianne is starting to think it might be time to make a statement. Maybe activate my social media accounts again, post a video addressing the rumors, something like that. She wants to get ahead of this. The speculation doesn’t seem to be dying down, and it’ll look worse, for both of us, if it seems like we’re hiding my identity from your fans,” you explained to Yoongi, waiting for his reaction.
He stepped forward, searching your eyes.
“Do you want that? To make a statement?” he asked.
“Not particularly,” you admitted quietly.
“You can wait. You don’t have to make a decision right now that you’ll regret later,” Yoongi said, trying to mitigate your stress.
“I’m running out of time, Yoongi. The past week with you has been a dream, but I have to wake up. I can’t keep hiding in your apartment building, pretending like the photos will go away. It’ll be worse the longer I wait. The label has already said that you were with an old friend, but they’re putting pressure on me to come out and say that it’s me. It seems to only be a matter of time before it’s confirmed, anyway. Besides, they think that your fans will believe the story more if they know it’s a former actress you were with rather than someone random.”
“I know what the label thinks,” Yoongi snapped.
“Yoongi…” you started.
“No,” Yoongi stopped you, his tone serious. “I said I wasn’t letting you go, and I meant it. So, if that means protecting you and your secret, then I’ll do it. Whatever it takes.”
Yoongi placed a hand on your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that you didn’t know had fallen. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes, and taking a deep breath to steady yourself.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to be truly ready, but it’s time, Yoongi.” Yoongi opened his mouth to reiterate that you didn’t have to do this, but you held up a hand to stop him from interrupting you. “I told you I wasn’t going to run away again, and I meant it. I need to do this for us to move forward. I know we have to be discreet and probably say we’re just friends for a little while, but we can’t take the next step or even keep seeing each other unless I go back into the spotlight.”
“You’ll have to move; you’ll have to deal with being followed, with security, with no privacy. I-I don’t want you to hate me because I can’t keep you from that,” Yoongi said, tears brimming his eyes.
“If this past year has taught me anything, it’s that I’m incapable of hating you, Min Yoongi. If anything, I love you more than ever.” Yoongi pressed his forehead against yours at your confession, his fingers digging into your waist.
“You’d think a year apart would be enough for me to fall out of love with you. I think I’d still love you even if we spent fifty years apart from each other,” Yoongi whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
“You’re what I want. The cameras, the public persona–I will relearn to deal with all of it if it means that I get you back in my life. If you’ll have me, that is.”
Yoongi’s lips met yours, the tears on both of your cheeks mingling together as you sealed your promises to each other. Yoongi pulled back long enough to murmur two words before pulling you back into him.
“I’m yours.”
---
One week later, you sat in front of the phone that was sitting on a makeshift tripod, Marianne blotting your face with powder. You had finally gotten to come back to your apartment, now with an added security system and non-disclosure agreements signed by your neighbors. You would be permanently moving into a more secure location, picked out by Marianne and Yoongi’s team, after today. The best part? It was only ten minutes away from Yoongi’s building.
Your Instagram and Twitter had been reactivated. After seeing you come back online, the rumors that it could be you in the photos with Yoongi became even more persistent. It was now or never.
“Remember what we talked about. Be yourself. Tell them that you needed some time off, to reflect and be creative, things like that. Don’t talk about Yoongi,” Marianne instructed. You rolled your eyes at the last point.
“I may be out of practice, Marianne, but I’m not completely useless. I really don’t think I’ll randomly start talking about my secret boyfriend during my Instagram story video.”
“Hush, you know I’m just doing my job,” Marianne playfully scolded.
“I know, and I love you for it.”
You checked your phone one last time, smiling at the last-minute good luck texts from your parents and the members of BTS. Your phone vibrated in your hands with a text notification.
Is it going up soon? – Yoongi
Yes, I’m about to record it. Depending on how many takes Marianne makes me do until it feels “natural”, it should be uploaded in a bit. – Y/N
Call me when it’s over. Good luck, I love you. – Yoongi
I love you, too. See you on the other side. – Y/N
“Are you ready?” Marianne asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” you breathed out. She gave you an encouraging smile.
“3, 2, 1…action.”
Part 5 // Epilogue
---
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haifengg · 3 years
Text
Errands - Nanami Kento
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Pairing: NanamixGN!Reader
Genre: Fluff // general summer or spring feelings // Is fashion a genre?
Summary: First dating Nanami and getting to know him better. On a bigger side note also about his clothes.
Word Count: about 1.6 k
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One of the things that drew you to Nanami since the very first day of working together, was the way he dressed. Not just because he was one of the very few people at the school who didn’t wear all black uniforms but because he chose seemingly the same outfit every day. Which appeared odd to you. You wondered how his wardrobe would look like and if he really owned the same set of clothes a bunch of times to rotate them on a daily basis.
Then you started observing him a little closer and not only did you mentioned his  subtle perfume but also did it come to your attention that in fact he wasn’t wearing the same clothes every day. The colours variated only in nuances and the fabric too wasn’t the same. Some shirts of his were a simple cotton blend but others were made out of a more pattern woven fabric. A lot if his shirts were in fact blue. But they tend to have all sorts of different undertones.  A lot of them dipping into a grey palette. 
His suits also differed and after a few weeks of subtly stalking his clothes you arrived at the conclusion that he probably owned three to four different suits. Maybe some darker ones as well since housed to be a regular salary man. The beige-ness of them wasn’t all the same either. Because his shirts - even though one doesn’t see it at first -  were in fact very different in warmth of the color and texture of the fabric, he had ad least two beige coloured suits. Which he always managed to match perfectly to the dress shirts. 
Nanami surely had a favourite tie. Which he wore a lot and how you later found out: Owns three of. But he had a few other choices as well which he only chose when he was tied down to his desk with paperwork and wasn’t going into the field. Just as if the yellow tie with the golden touch was his battle tie. The one that boosted his confidence. Maybe even kind of his trade mark.
After taking note of all these different things you figure that he probably had to be a man of minutest detail. Not choosing too brightly coloured shirts because different shades of blue would complemented his hair better. 
And you wonder if other people paid that much attention to him as well or if it was just you.
After that thought formed in your head you realised how much you were thinking about Nanami Kento over the past few weeks and that you had - according to your data and previous crushes you had on other people - fallen for him.
Luckily Nanami was paying just as much attention to you than you were paying to him. He simply was way more discreet about it. But when he eventually was certain that asking you out was worth the trouble and pondered the emotional dividend - he did it. He asked you out. Very bluntly, very straightforward and your heart dropped to your knees. Because you secretly hoped that all your rapture would never have to be acted on.
[…]
Seeing him out of work not only made you realise how sweet of a man he is behind all those glasses, holsters, fighting and stern face, but also gave you more inside about his choice of clothes. During summery after noon dates he tend to show up in light linen shirts and slacks, a different pair of glasses than the one he wore to work. You would have never taken him for a jute bag kind of guy but he carried one of these pretty often.
When you asked him about it he only smiled softly and offered to show you. Then you got into a subway, holding on to the same pole. His arm holding on to it over your shoulder, giving you a feeling of being protected. And basically forced you to stare into his chest. As you exited the train after a rather long ride at a station you’ve never been to before, he put his hand into the smallest of your back, guiding you towards the exit and standing closely behind you on the escalator. Unwillingly your heart skipped a beat because it was the first time he physically touched you. 
Stepping out of the station you looked around, shielding your eyes from the sun using your hand. Yet there was nothing to see. Where ever he brought you seemed to be just a typical area were people lived. Went to work in the morning and returned to in the evening. 
“Are you disappointed?” He asked, looking at you with an amused expression on his face. You deny his question and say that you’re just really confused why he wanted to show you a a suburban area of the city you both lived in.
“You wanted to know what the bag is for. I’ll show you.” He walked a few steps, then turned around when he noticed you weren’t following him. “Come on!”
So you went. And followed him. Like a shadow, once again, slowly observing his moves and actions, how he talked to the people. How he wasn’t the nicest or most polite person at work talking to his coworkers but smiled at the owner of the book shop were he went to pick up an order. You saw his eyes wrinkle as he laughed at a joke and how his eyes light up when they talked about the development of the area for about a minute.
He put the book and the paper in his jute bag.
Then he went on to the dry cleaners, pulled out a coupon from his wallet and picked up two of shirts of his. Once again he took the time to chat with the owner. The elderly lady seemed delighted to see him and they talked just as if they have known each other for a long time. One time she looked past Nanami’s tall frame to catch a glimpse at you and asked who you might be. But he cunningly smiled and replied: “I will tell you some other time.” And winked at her and the lady giggled like a young girl. You wouldn’t trust your eyes. Nanami Kento, the grumpy guy from work was flirting with the owner from the dry cleaners. Who was this man. 
By the time you got to the market, the sun had long since started to set and cast long shadows over the busy vendors. 
“Would you hold this for me?” Nanami asked and handed you the shirts wrapped in plastic foil. During the past one and a half hour you barely said a word to each other. But now he asked you all kinds of questions, while also chatting with the vendors and filling the jute bag on his shoulders with fruit, vegetables and all kinds of other groceries.
“Do you like fish? Or do you prefer vegetables?”
“Is there anything you don’t like?”
“How about anchovies?”
“Oh look, they got tomatoes, don’t they look just great?”
He bought bread from a small bakery at the corner of the market, strawberries from another lady in wellies and a hooverette. When she saw you following him at every turn like a little duckling, a big smile grew on her face, making her eyes disappear in a bunch of wrinkles and she gave him some extra fruits for you to try. 
[…]
“So why were you carrying that bag exactly? To run errands?” You ask him, leaning back and eyeing him from across the small table in his kitchen. He twirled the stem of the wine glass between his fingers and scoffed.
“No, honestly I wanted to take you running errands with me for while so I always took the bag in case I would manage getting you to accompany me. But the opportunity just never presented.”
The honesty of his words surprised you and caused you to raise an eyebrow. “Why did you want to run errands with me?”
“Because I am a different guy with the people of my community. Of course I could have told you but how classy is that really? Showing you would be much more impressive.”
You hold up your glass to watch the light refracting in the most different shades of red. “That’s a fair point. Laos I probably wouldn’t have believed you.” His laughter chimed through the kitchen and out the open window, where the wind got hold of it and carried it away. 
“You know, people tend to mistake me for someone sort of person that I am not for most of the time.” You nod and he resumed impishly like a little boy: “On another hand I wanted to show you were I live.”
“You wanted to lure me into your place?”
“Yes.” Nanami admits and laughs. He leaned back and thrummed on the table using his thumb. After you had finished the shared dinner he prepared for you after coming home he had  crossed his legs and pushed up the glasses to rest on his hair.
“What for?”
You take your eyes off the shimmering wine in your glass to search for an answer in his eyes. The flashing blue eyes, so wonderfully complemented by the shirt he chose to wear today. Narrow light blue stripes. To your surprise there was nothing to search for. Because Nanami was already spelling it out for you.
“To let you know how much I like you.”
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tsukishumai · 3 years
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Hii. Can I please get 21 with akaashi? :)) also L O V E your work
+ Oops forgot to say my pronouns are she/her (for the 21 Akaashi) have a good dayy
Thanks for the request ! And tysm I love you <3
send me a prompt + ur fav character here :)
21. “I haven’t seen her/him/them smile like that in ages.”
Tags: mentions of alcohol/cigarettes, & meeting the parents lol
Word count: 1.5k
A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG I was having the worst case of writers block but anyway I’m kinda back I’m not sure if I like this one but I hope you do! Lmk ur thoughts <3
Akaashi put the finishing touches on the wooden board he laid out on the table, placing star-shaped fruit in empty spaces to make everything look vibrant and colorful.
“Whoa, where’d you learn how to make that?” you asked as you walked into the kitchen, two wine glasses balanced between your fingers in one hand and a large bottle of Cabarnet Sauvignon in the other.
“I saw a few posts online,” Akaashi stood back and admired his charcuterie board, nodding in satisfaction at how the salami river looked traveling between the mountains of brie and cheddar. “Do you think your parents will like it?”
You smile to yourself, wanting to point at that that’s the seventh time in thirty minutes that he’s asked if your parents would like something. But you figure the beads of sweat forming on Akaashi’s forehead indicated just how nervous he felt, so you placated him with, “I think they’re going to love it, Keiji.”
His lips twitched in some semblance of a smile for just one second before he brings a knuckle up to his lip.
“Or maybe I should put out fig jam instead of raspberry jam? Fig jam goes really well with brie, but I like the color of the raspberry jam better…”
Akaashi’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell.
“Too late, they’re here,” you practically giggled with excitement, setting down the wine glasses on the dinner table. Akaashi quickly started adjusting his shirt, pulling at the collar and tugging at the hem before you stepped in front of him. You gave a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, and said, “Don’t worry, Keiji. I just know they’re going to love you.”
The two of you opened the front door of your shared apartment in tandem, Akaashi standing back and smiling nervously as you threw your arms around your parents. He knows how much you’ve been missing home lately; Tokyo was nothing like your hometown, and he knows all too well the suffocating air of loneliness.
Akaashi liked to think he did everything he could to keep those demons at bay, but even he understands that he could never truly fill the void the same way family could. So when he mentioned inviting your parents over for dinner, offering to pay for the bullet train tickets himself, the excitement you had shown all over your face made him wonder why he didn’t suggest doing so any sooner.
Now that he was standing here, palms sweating as he stood under the scrutinizing gaze of your father, he thinks he maybe could have waited another couple of weeks to meet your parents.
“This is Keiji,” he heard you introduce, and he automatically bent over into a bow.
“It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Akaashi-kun, none of that, get up and give me a hug,” your mother reached over to set Akaashi straight before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Akaashi’s eyes widened in surprise, looking over to you in a slight panic as you simply shrugged. “I’ve heard so much about you!”
“I just have to warn you, my mom can be kind of a handful,” you mentioned one evening while you were cooking dinner. Akaashi stood a few feet away from you, diligently chopping the vegetables you had given him.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she’s really affectionate, for one. That alone is enough to throw some people off,” you mumbled, giving the beef in the pot one last stir before transferring it to a plate, “She likes to tease a lot, and you can never take what she says seriously. She laughs at her own corny jokes, not to mention she’s loud.”
You extended a hand out to Akaashi, and he promptly handed you the cutting board full of vegetables. You added them back in the pot, sautéing them gently.
“That sounds exactly like someone I know…” Akaashi quipped, and you threw your kitchen towel at him.
“Shut up and hand me the curry cubes.”
Before Akaashi could even think to bring his arms up and hug your mother back, she quickly let him go and diverted her attention to the stunning display on your dining room table.
“Oh my, what do we have here,” she exclaimed, moving over to examine the variety of crackers, meats and cheeses that Akaashi so artfully placed on a wooden board he bought at the local grocery store down the street.
“Yes, mom, it’s called a charcuterie board…” you quickly went over to show your mom, and Akaashi was left alone with your father.
Akaashi turned back to the stern-faced man, bowing deeply before uttering out his second, “It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.”
Much to Akaashi’s relief, your father didn’t throw his arms around him, and simply returned Akaashi’s bow. Akaashi discreetly wiped his sweaty palms on the side of his jeans, waving a hand out to motion to the kitchen, “May I get you anything to drink?”
Your father didn’t reply, simply giving Akaashi a soft grunt and walked passed him to where his wife and daughter were laughing. Your mother and you both had a wine glass in hand, sampling different combinations the charcuterie board had to offer. Akaashi observed the way your dad didn’t reach for a wine glass of his own, opting to making himself a bite of salami and gruyere. Akaashi made his way to the refrigerator, grabbing a can from the emergency six pack he bought.
“My dad, on the other hand,” you set down the plate of katsu curry at the head of the dining table for Akaashi, and plate for you in the seat directly to his right, “He doesn’t really say much, but I promise you, he’s a total softy at heart. Don’t let the scowl fool you. He’s like, the total opposite of my mom.”
Akaashi came out of the kitchen carrying to glasses of water, setting one in front of you and one in front of himself before taking his seat at the table. “I guess opposites really do attract, huh?”
You picked up the glass to take a sip, smiling into the rim, “Yeah. I guess that explains me and you.”
Akaashi paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Akaashi nearly gleamed at the nod of acknowledgement from your father when he handed him a beer, nearly laughing at the discreet thumbs up you had given him from behind your mother.
Dinner went by without a hitch. Your mother made it easy, asking Akaashi about the details pertaining to his life, and offering him stories about your childhood. He chuckled at your frustrated groans whenever she whipped out her phone to show him baby pictures, asking her to forward him the one where you’re missing your two front teeth.
Your dad hadn’t said much the whole evening, but the crinkles formed in the corners of his eye all the same when Akaashi said a joke that made his wife and daughter howl with laughter.
“Akaashi,” your father grunted, standing up with a beer in one hand as Akaashi collected the dishes from the table, “Why don’t you join me on the balcony for a moment.”
Akaashi audibly gulped, and you fought a snicker from your throat as your grabbed the plates from Akaashi’s hands. “Go on, I got this.”
Akaashi nodded, feeling like his shoes were made of lead as he followed your father through the sliding door that lead out to the balcony. Akaashi promptly slid the door shut behind him, your father immediately leaning over to prop his elbows on the railing.
“That’s a good view,” he mumbled, waving his hand and motioning for Akaashi to stand beside him.
“Thank you,” Akaashi answered, taking his place next to your dad, “It’s part of the reason we chose this apartment.”
Your father nodded, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He brought the white stick to his lips, lighting the end before inhaling a deep drag.
“I brought you out here because I wanted to thank you,” your father started, catching Akaashi by complete surprise. “I haven’t seen her smile like that in ages.”
Akaashi was stunned, staring at your father dumbfounded as he continued to let out puffs of smoke. A couple of heartbeats pass between the two of you, Akaashi searching for the words and trying hard not to let the tears further cloud his vision.
“I’ll do anything to make her laugh like that,” Akaashi said a little too quickly, coughing over his last word, “Sir.”
Just then, your father laughed, and Akaashi found himself smiling with him.
“That’s a good man. One last thing,” your father put the cigarette out and tossed it in the empty beer can in his hand, “Don’t tell them about this cigarette, okay? I told them I quit.”
Your father gave Akaashi two pats on the shoulder, leaving Akaashi on the balcony feeling like he could just about rule the world.
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Text
Steggy: Mail Order Groom
Marriage was not something Margaret “Peggy” Carter ever intended to enter into. For one, she wasn’t suited to being a meek domestic housewife, and two, she hadn’t met a man who would remotely be able to change her mind. Most of them were absolute boors, who didn’t believe women should be allowed to think for themselves or do anything that wasn’t tending to said men’s needs.
She was happy to run her small town all by herself and didn’t care what the gossips and old fashioned idiots said.
But when it came time for re-election as mayor, her shady opponent managed to get the town council to revive an old law that would require her to have a husband in order to run for mayor.
Furious, Peggy nearly took Thompson’s head off, but all her lectures and wrath would not move the town council, several of whom were vocal opponents of a woman in leadership.
Aggravated beyond all reason, Peggy steamed for a while, but finally decided she’d either have to find a trophy husband somehow or give up and let Thompson run the place into the ground.
She made discreet inquiries with an agency that was known for matching mail order spouses for those in need of one. After filling out their questionnaire, she was put into correspondence with one Steven Grant Rogers, a bachelor from New York, who was interested in making a move West, but lacked the funds.
Steven handled her long distance interrogation with patience and honesty, both of which Peggy appreciated in a man.
She explained the reasons for her needing a husband and braced herself to be disillusioned once again, but much to her surprise, Steve’s answering letter expressed outrage toward the town council and offered his full support of her run for re-election.
He sounded much too good to be true, but so far the private investigator the agency used to verify their client’s character had not been able to find any history of fraud with him. He’d been in trouble for assaulting a man before, the charges were dropped because Steve had been defending a young lady’s honor.
“Can he cook, too?” Peggy’s friend Angie asked after Peggy shared the latest letter with her.
“He says he can, albeit nothing fancy. But I don’t need fancy. I need edible.”
Peggy and Angie shared a chuckle over Peggy’s famous kitchen disasters.
“Well. I’d say snatch him up! You’re not going to find any better husband candidate in time for the election and he’s agreed to your conditions. So if you’re gonna go for it, go for it, Peg.”
And Peggy did. A couple weeks later, she waited at the train station for her prospective groom. She didn’t really know what he’d looked like, beyond his brief description of himself. As the passengers disembarked, Peggy scanned the crowd nervously, wondering which one was Steve.
A tall bearded man approached her, removing his hat to reveal a head of slightly shaggy sandy blonde hair.
“Mayor Carter?” He asked, looking hopefully at her with very attractive blue eyes.
Peggy’s stomach did a flip as she realized just how very handsome he was. Please let this be Steve! begged the voice in her head.
“Yes,” she managed to reply calmly. “Are you Steven Rogers?”
“I am. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”
Steve held out his hand and she returned his firm shake, both seeming to silently be sizing each other up. He was very tall and very broad shouldered and looked sturdy enough to endure the hard work of the West, but his eyes were kind, not hard, and he looked like he smiled a lot.
All in all, it was a very promising picture and Peggy found herself not nearly so opposed to marriage as she had been.
Steve, on the other hand, couldn’t believe his good fortune. He’d already fallen for the strong spirit of the woman he’d been writing to and now seeing her in person, he was almost struck speechless by her. He hoped she would give him the chance to try and win her heart.
“I trust your journey was uneventful?” She asked, as she drove them out to the ranch she owned. Of course, she couldn’t live there herself right now, but it would make a good home once the two of them married.
“It was,” Steve answered. “Unless you call the over loud snoring of my neighbor to be eventful.”
Peggy chuckled. “Well, here you’ll have the whole place to yourself, at least for a little while.”
“You don’t live here?”
“No. Too many headaches for a single woman to live alone out here. I’m rooming in town for now. When we marry, I will move out here with you. I much prefer the space out here.”
“How much time do you have to make a decision on marriage before the election?” Steve asked.
“About three weeks,” Peggy answered. “But I have already made up my mind. I want to give you a chance to get to know this place and see if you could actually endure marriage to me. I tend to scare the men off.”
“I don’t scare easily,” Steve said with a small smile.
Sure enough, he was still there three weeks later and he and Peggy went before the judge to be joined in holy matrimony.
“What a lovely ring!” Peggy admired after it was over.
“It was my mother’s,” Steve explained, looking down at her left hand with a proud expression. “Father had it specially made for her.”
“Oh, Steve. I’m honored,” she said, very touched that he’d given her a family heirloom after such a short time of courtship. “You didn’t have to give me this.”
“I wanted to,” he told her honestly. “My mother would have loved you.”
And I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. He thought.
Peggy trotted out her new husband at her announcement of running for re-election and the town went wild, except for the sulky town council members, who were forced to accept her entry and very unhappy about it.
It didn’t take long for Steve to win the heart of Peggy and the loyalty of the town.
Thompson was soundly defeated and sulked for a long time.
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castieltrash1 · 4 years
Text
dangerous territory → clint b.
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summary → clint stays behind during a mission, leaving you alone with him in the avengers building. seeing him sprawled out on the comfy lounge room couch gives you some naughty ideas -- only adding to the tension your relationship already has.
word count → 6.7k (literally wtf)
warnings → i ignore the entirety of iw/endgame except for clint’s makeover, extreme sexual tension, smut; switch!fem!reader, switch!clint, couch sex, oral (both recieving), fingering, slight overstimulation, dirty talk, praise
a/n → literally idk if i should be ashamed or not but im Horny 4 Hawkeye!!! oopsie !! also there are like .3 smut fics for him on here and im determined to fix that
---
Quiet was not a word you’d use to describe the Avengers Facility.
In fact, with Steve’s loud orders, Bruce’s lab explosions, and Sam’s boisterous laughter -- not to mention the never-ending petty arguments that managed to revert the Avengers to 11th graders in their first debate club -- it was the farthest thing from quiet.
But, now, with zero disagreements and zero distractions, you’d been able to enjoy the building all to yourself. Almost. Of course, the one time you got to avoid a mission, you ended up falling into an even worse situation.
You’d covered for Wanda last mission, and she’d insisted on paying you back for the newest one. It wasn’t high stakes by any means, but the work itself had countless components and everyone who was nearby -- or at least on the planet -- had been called in to fill some role.  
Everyone, of course, except you. And Clint.
Suddenly the idea of being stuck in the Quinjet with everyone’s post-mission moodiness sounded very appealing. You could feel a headache growing as you wandered around the kitchen, doing anything and everything in your power to avoid him. He was not supposed to be here. Hell, he didn’t even like stepping foot in the place unless the world was in immediate danger.
Of course, you weren’t the only one to notice his odd attitude. Natasha gave him a confused look when he mentioned staying behind, but decidedly hadn’t commented, almost like she’d already pieced together the reason for Clint’s actions. Knowing her, she probably had. But, even Wanda shot a glance that worried you -- though you seemed to be the only one to catch her squinted green gaze before it disappeared. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what she saw in his mind.
Sure, you had a couple of ideas as to why he would choose to isolate himself with you, but you tried to not let those thoughts consume you. The others wouldn’t be back till midday tomorrow -- if all went well -- and you were not about to spend the next 36 hours soaking your panties with stupid fantasies.
Unfortunately, even when ignoring Clint, your mind was still focused on him. When you passed by the gym or shooting range, antsy to get your daily work in, one quick thought of seeing Clint’s arms -- tensed as he loaded his bow, muscles straining and eyes focused on his target -- was enough to have you quickly walking in the opposite direction.
But, now, as you make your way into the lounge to relax, you can’t find it in yourself to care. You have just as much of a right as Clint does to walk around whenever and wherever you please. In all honesty, you feel even more entitled considering you’re the one actually living in the tower (at least most of the time.)
He’s exactly where you expect him to be -- he may be fast and quiet on his feet, but you’ve been keeping tabs on him, for your own sake.
It’s a bit odd seeing a book instead of a bow in his hands, but you’re not entirely sure you should be focused on how his fingers wrap around the thin pages, thumbing the corners so gently--
“Done avoiding me, are you?”
Well, shit.
His gaze remains on his book -- though the very few pages he’s turned assures you he’s not paying attention to whatever riveting story Tony has stocked his shelves with.
“What are you talking about?” you ask. There’s a moment of temptation to take a seat next to him on the couch, as close as possible. To feel his strong arms around you, smell the raw masculine cologne he always wears a bit too much of -- heavy on his neck and sharp jaw that you know your lips could curl around so perfectly if given the chance.
You swallow heavily and take a seat in the chair across from him, sinking into the expensive fabric.
“Tony picks good furniture, right?” Clint sighs, book closing without so much as a dog-ear mark as he leans back.
It’s silent for a second, and you’re entirely sure you’ve missed a part of the conversation during your mini black-out, but Clint doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest, waiting patiently for your answer. You consider it a small win and accept the change in topic with an awkward laugh.
“Yeah. Didn’t think price made such a big difference.” There’s a firmness to the chair that keeps you from sinking, and mentally, you consider if it’d be strong enough for other activities. “How much you wanna bet he spent on each of these chairs?” you question, genuinely curious. “I gotta guess at least two grand.”
Clint’s cool eyes glint playfully. “Three,” he challenges with a smirk that sends a shiver down your spine. “Though, you should really try this couch. Definitely my favorite thing here.”
There’s just a hint of suggestion in his tone -- the kind that you’d miss if you weren’t trained in reading people. It’s not unexpected, though. You’d have to be a fool to not recognize the exact same longing stares, the same lingering touches that Clint offers you. But, that’s what makes it all more intimidating. It’s an unspoken thing, and at this point, that’s what feels most convenient -- even if your lonely nights spent moaning his name are growing far too common for comfort.
Still, you can’t exactly ignore him, and his eyes follow you closely as you make your way to the couch, falling into the comfy cushions with a huff.
“Wow.” You laugh. “No wonder you’ve been spending so much time down here.”
Clint raises an eyebrow. “So you have been paying me some attention. Interesting.”
If he notices you shift as far to the other end of the couch as possible, he doesn’t mention it.
“Don’t take it personally, Barton,” you huff. “I’m used to keeping an eye on everyone around here.” It’s not entirely a lie, but he manages to see right through the half-truth regardless.
“So you avoid everyone, then?” There’s no hurt or misunderstanding in his voice, not even confusion. He knows what you’re doing, knows why you can’t bear to look him in the eyes for more than a few seconds.
“Still don’t know what you’re talking about,” you deflect, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back onto the couch.
He just chuckles, a low sound that makes your stomach clench unconsciously. You expect him to keep pressing you, work you up until you spill your guts, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even say a word as you hear the rustling of paper and feel the couch move slightly as he shifts.
You turn your head towards him and open one eye, then both as they go wide. Clint has taken on a whole new level of comfortable, feet perched on the coffee table and one arm resting on the back of the couch while his free hand flips through the same first few pages as before.
In all honesty, you suddenly find yourself happy that Steve and Tony are gone -- otherwise they’d be scolding Clint for his manners, and most definitely not ogling his firm legs in those tight, black jeans.
You drag your gaze back up his body, stopping near the hem of his shirt, where his new position has allowed for the fabric to ride up his stomach. It’s just a sliver of skin but the image is enough to make your heart race. There’s a faint dip in the muscled hip line leading to his jeans, and if you stare extra hard, you can see the light trail of thin hairs disappearing under the fabric.
Swallowing heavily, you quickly look back at Clint’s face, holding back a gasp as he stares back at you.
“So,” you fill the silence before he can, mentally thanking Natasha for her training on keeping your composure. “How’s that book of yours?”
Clint just grins for a second -- you both know he’s caught you. “It’s alright. Not the most interesting thing in the building right now, though.”
You gulp. “Yeah… The place is big. Lots to explore. I don’t think I’ve even seen every room--”
“I have a feeling you know that’s not what I mean,” Clint cuts you off with a chuckle, and you send him a challenging glare.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you scoff.
He hums, before his tongue peeks out to swipe across his bottom lip. “You’re sounding awfully like a broken record today.” His icy, pale eyes return to his book, and you watch as he lifts his thumb to his wet lips, tongue darting out the lick the tip. You can practically feel the action, and almost whine in disappointment when his hand returns to flip the page.
Clint is downright grinning at this point, and you know he’s taking in every breath, shift, and blink of yours. “But, I know you’re not actually confused,” he continues. “In fact, I’d argue you like this game of ours a bit more than you should.”
You know if you brush it off again, he’ll drop it. He’s too nice to make you uncomfortable, and his statement hangs in the air with a heavy weight.
“You know, Barton?” you shift from your spot on the couch, eliminating a good chunk of the space between you and him. “I think you’re smarter than most people give you credit for.” He raises a brow, and you would believe his undisturbed look if you didn’t see his fingers twitch against the spine of the forgotten book.
“Tell Nat that,” he jokes, and you grin. Seeing that little crack in his facade, the way he fills the conversation with a joke, the discreet but heavy swallow he tries to hide -- it’s all enough to power you to move closer, until there are mere centimeters between you two.
“Hmmm, I don’t think I’ll be telling Natasha anything from this conversation of ours.” Keeping your attention on the slight tense of his jaw, you push the book from his hands, and he immediately drops his feet from the table to discard it in their place.
You pause for a second, glancing at Clint’s lap then back at him, and he doesn’t hesitate to reach out and grab your hip.
“Get over here already,” he groans, both arms wrapping around your waist to situate you in his lap. His hands are warm and firm and everything you could have ever imagined, and you automatically roll your hips down onto him. There’s a pleased moan from you both, and his own hips jolt in a way that sends you even closer to him, until your chests are touching.
He immediately dives for your neck, scruff tickling the sensitive skin as he breathes you in deeply. “I gotta admit,” he murmurs, letting his lips graze the bottom of your jaw in the most sinful way, “you look so much better sitting here than standing around in the kitchen.”
You drag your fingers through the long hair on the back of his head, tugging it playfully. “You’ve been watching me, Barton?”
He hums, squeezing you just as teasingly. “I do a lot of staring when it comes to you, babe.”
You pull him from your neck by his hair, and he looks up at you with the most mischievous glint in his eyes. The nickname makes you undeniably flustered, but you force the embarrassment away.
“I don’t know about you, but I think that’s what you call creepy,” you mumble, leaning down so Clint can feel your words against his own lips. He immediately darts forward, but you pull back with a sly grin, watching his eyes darken at the action.
“I think,” he growls, catching you off guard as he pushes you back onto the couch, making you jostle as you try not to fall off the edge. He steadies you with a large hand, and you only jolt again when he uses his free hand to spread your legs, caging you in as his hips drop between your parted thighs. “You’d be a hypocrite for saying that.” He drops back to your neck, and you can feel his smile before his teeth sink into your skin lightly -- just enough to make you gasp.
He continues to litter your neck with kisses, and you watch in awe as his toned arm tenses by the side of your head -- the thick black lines of ink rolling as his muscles flex.
“And what are you gonna do about it?” you taunt, back arching as his tongue darts out to lick a stripe up to right below your chin. “You gonna fuck me?”
Clint bites the edge of your jaw in retaliation to your words, before he pulls back just enough to stare at you with a lustful gaze.
“Not yet, baby. Not that easily.” One of his hands trails up the front of your thigh, before it busies itself with the hem of your shirt. You try to hide your disappointment, but Clint notices it, of course, and just shakes his head. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on letting you leave this couch anytime soon. You’ve made me wait long enough for this… I’m gonna take my time with you.”
He finally presses his lips to yours, and you hungrily reach and tug until he’s as close as possible -- until you can feel the denim of his jeans scraping deliciously against your thighs as you tug his bottom lip between your teeth. It’s messy and entirely uncalculated, and your nails catch in the wrinkles of the back of his shirt while his own fingers tug impatiently at the bottom of yours.
You part from him for a second, and his own greedy mouth follows yours, only managing to press against the side of your lips. “You act like you’ve made this easy for me,” you retort, and his chest rumbles against yours as he chuckles.
“Oh honey, I think I’ve made it quite obvious I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day you walked in here.”
“Clearly, not obvious enough.”
Clint huffs, warm breath hitting your cheek. “What’d you want me to do? Huh?” He shifts so his words make their way directly to your ear, each syllable accentuated with a puff of hot air. With him this close, neck just below your nose, you can take in the heavy smell of that sharp cologne you love so much.
His calloused fingers dip beneath your shirt, but instead of the obvious trail up, his hand trails down to play with the hem of your shorts. “Tug these little things off in front of everyone? Show them all how worked up you get me wearing these? Is that what you want?”
Your hips lift in a silent plea, and you groan. “They’re comfortable.”
“Maybe for you, but I find myself very uncomfortable when you wear them.” He snickers, and if you weren’t so turned on, you’re sure you’d roll your eyes. Only Clint Barton could make a joke about untimely hard-ons during a time like this.
“Then why don’t you take them off?” you groan, and he shakes his head while muttering something about you being bossy.
Still, his words betray him as he tugs the fabric down your legs, as slowly as possible while his eyes drink in the new area of exposed skin. “What part about taking my time with you did you not understand?” The corner of his lips tug in that mischievous way of his, and you have a sneaking feeling his patience is as fleeting as your own.
Proving your point, Clint tosses your shorts over the back of the couch with a grin, then pushes you further up the cushions. You’re almost sitting, shoulder blades knocking the arm of the sofa while your legs bend at the knee to accompany Clint, who scoots back. It’s the perfect and most disastrous angle to be at as you have to both feel and watch his deft fingers trail up from your knee.
You’re a hundred percent sure the effects of your arousal are extremely obvious, but he doesn’t comment on the wet patch of your panties -- though you see his eyes focus on the area between your legs for a second too long before his gaze flickers back to your thighs.
His calloused fingers trail the edge of fabric around your legs, rough skin providing a type of friction you can’t begin to explain. His touch is fleeting and he changes the amount of pressure with every swipe of his thumb, always pushing just enough to let you know he’s holding you down. That you can’t escape him -- as if you’d even think of trying to do so.
“Your legs are so sexy, you know that?”
You let out some type of pleased whine, a sound that Clint relishes as he tightens his grip on your thighs. “Make the prettiest sounds, too,” he continues, and then his fingers are right there. One hand holds your left leg down, while the other covers your panty-covered core. His thumb rubs into your desperate, throbbing clit, and you use your little amount of freedom to push your hips up, wanting, needing more.
Clint immediately presses you back down, and you watch his tattoos shift just slightly as he adds more weight to his hand on your thigh.
“Please, please.” You revert to begging at your lack of movement, losing all shame in regard to your desire. It’s obvious you need Clint -- any excuses or lies from before long forgotten. You need his movements to speed up, the slow circles of his thumb providing barely enough friction.
He just chuckles, but relents a little and you downright purr as the thin fabric of your underwear drags against your tingling nerve endings. It’s impossible to move under Clint’s weight, but all the muscles in your lower half flex and twitch as they desperately search for release and relief.
“How about…” Clint trails off, fingers moving upward to grab the waistline of your panties, “we get these off?”
You’re sure if you nod any faster you might make yourself dizzy, and Clint just smirks in that knowing way. That way that lets you know he has you right where he wants you. Right where he’s been waiting to have you.
The article of clothing is soon flung behind his shoulder just like your forgotten shorts -- and you can only faintly remind yourself to make sure you grab everything before the others return. Though, at this point, you think anyone could walk in on Clint between your legs and you’d still be begging him to make you cum -- audience or not.
“Fucking Christ,” Clint groans, palms sliding between your thighs to spread them, giving him a full view of your glistening core. “I swear, you’re gonna kill me.” Seeing his flushed cheeks, mussed hair, and greedy fingers, you’re not sure you can reject that statement.
He removes his hands for just a second, but you don’t dare close your legs, and he has the audacity to wink. Before your mind can even process the action, though, he’s pulling his shirt off, arms crossing over his chest as they show off in their full glory. Hips, stomach, chest, arms -- they’re all exposed so quickly and your eyes drink in the features as fast as they can. Clint throws the shirt to the side -- you have a feeling he’s utilizing his perfect aim to create a clothing pile -- but you just stare at his shoulder, where the ink spreads to areas you’ve never had the chance to see before. The olive green accents contrast against his tanned skin, which has gained a light sheen from the sweat of his arousal.
As he leans back down, Ronin’s portrait stares you dead in the eyes -- quite literally. If you didn’t know the deeper meaning, you’re sure you could mistake the skull as a danger warning to the man pressing a kiss against the inside of your knee.
Short hairs chafe your legs as Clint makes himself comfortable, pressing his jaw against you. When his hot breath dances over your center you almost squeeze your thighs together, but he’s there to push them apart with a chuckle.
“No, no…” He pulls away barely, and you take in a deep breath to calm yourself. “You’re gonna give me what I want, ok?” His fingers are gentle, and so are his eyes when he glances up to you. He’s hopeful, pleading almost, but stays respectful. “If that’s ok, of course.”
You almost want to cry, because how could he think any differently, but you just nod. “Please Clint, touch me.”
He sends you a lopsided grin, and then he’s right there, pressing a kiss against your clit. The feeling is completely different from before, lips slick and soft unlike his rough thumb. All the air in your lungs leaves your body as you let out a sigh of relief, body finally relaxing as it gets the touch it needs.
You reach down and your nails scratch his scalp lightly before you grip his hair in a tight hold. He nuzzles against your hand and groans against you, and the feeling of control makes your blood run hot through your veins. One of the most powerful men on Earth is between your legs, sucking softly on your clit like it's the only thing he could ever want.
He traces circles on your thighs with his coarse fingers as he warms you up with gentle licks and the occasional curl of his lips around your most sensitive area. You let him have the satisfaction of your spread thighs, but you periodically tug on his tousled locks to remind him that he’s the one between your legs. It’s the perfect balance of dominance -- the type that makes your head spin and your eyes roll back into your head.
Clint presses another kiss to your clit before traveling lower and the intimacy of the action makes your skin flush. You can tell he’s not going to be holding back for much longer though, if the desperation of his descent is any indication. His fingers join his attack as he spreads your folds, tongue dragging the entirety of your core.
“So good, baby. So fucking good,” he mutters, mouth impatient as he covers as much skin as he can at once. It’s fast and downright dirty as he presses his tongue into you, eliciting a groan from your parted, panting lips. You’re dripping at this point, and he laps up the mix of saliva and arousal with a yearning thirst.
It’s all so overwhelming. His fingers are digging into your skin -- likely to leave faint marks -- and the scruff framing his jaw scrapes and leaves your skin burning, while the softer locks between your fingers are a comfort to steady you.
The heat building in your body is entirely unbelievable, and your back digs into the couch as you arch into Clint, desperate for all he’ll be willing to give you. You press him closer, and he moans at the power in your hands -- the control you have despite him hovering over you. It’s a mental trip for you both, your stomach and pelvic muscles clenching as they react to his generous, eager giving.
“God, Clint, gonna cum.” The words barely feel like they’re coming from your own body, jaw slack as you tremble in his hold. His index finger presses into you slowly, while his thumb replaces his tongue on your clit. The change of stimulation has you reeling, your grip on Clint loosening as you feel his warm words against you.
“Kinda the point, sweetheart.” Your eyes are squeezed shut, but you know Clint is smirking -- you can practically hear it in his voice.
His finger curls to press against your front wall, and he rubs it gently once, twice, before he lets the digit drag out, sinking in again even slower. The leisurely thrusts continue as his tongue returns to circle your clit, his cocky words from before silenced as he puts his mouth to work. Your breath grows heavier, heart rate increasing with every second. His middle finger joins the first with a steady push, and you clench desperately as they curl and press and rub and reduce you to nothing but putty.
You’re right there and Clint knows it -- somehow he knows it. His fingers move faster, harder, and his lips wrap around your clit with even greater determination. There’s a shift, fingertips grazing the perfect spot as he sucks desperately and it’s over. You’re crying out his name, thighs shaking and you clench and flutter around his never-ceasing fingers. There’s a moment where all senses leave you and all you can feel is Clint, and the spread of warmth between your legs. Your ears ring and your own moans become faint background sounds.
And then, you’re pulling his head back, his tongue still trying to work your sensitive clit. He fights your tug on his hair but you must be begging because he finally relents with a huff. You can hear his breathing, and you feel his shift as he leans back over you, fingers still working you through your high.
“Look at me,” he demands, and his free hand drags down your cheek. “C’mon, open your eyes.” He forcefully grabs your chin, and your eyes open too quickly for your mind to process. It’s all so bright and you have to blink away the splotches of color coating your vision. Clint takes up the entirety of your view, lips wet and eyes dark. “There you go, baby.” He’s grinning and panting and his fingers are still fucking moving.
You whimper and glance down -- as much as his grip on your jaw will allow -- and the view of his tattooed arm between your thighs, veins pulsing as he fingers you is imprinted in your mind permanently. It’s a never-ending high that goes on for a second too long before Clint finally, finally eases his fingers from you. They’re practically dripping with your release, and he wastes no time bringing them to his glossy mouth.
It’s hypnotic to watch as his lips close around his fingers, nostrils flaring as he sucks them eagerly. They come out clean, and his chest rumbles with a groan. “Can’t get enough of your taste. Fuck.”
It takes a second for you to catch your breath, chest heaving and shirt clinging to sweaty skin. But, there’s finally a moment where your legs feel somewhat solid, and you take advantage of the opportunity, bending your leg to put the bottom of your foot on Clint’s bare chest.
He shoots you a confused but intrigued look, and you respond with a lopsided grin as you push him backward, until he’s the one stumbling to find a spot against the arm of the couch. Faintly, you consider the move would be much sexier with a pair of heels digging into his skin, but this will have to suffice for now. Maybe next time -- if there is a next time, of course.
“Now, what are you up to, baby girl?” Clint is practically vibrating with excitement as you gather the strength to push yourself off the couch, ignoring the slight twitch of your exerted thighs.
“Take your pants off,” you say, with little shame. “Now.”
You’re not sure you’ve ever seen someone get undressed so quickly and the hastiness of Clint’s actions leave him with very little coordination. It takes him three tries to get his belt undone, and he pokes himself with the metal prong when his eyes return to glance at you.
Raising a brow, you put your hands on your hips, and he speeds up. The button and zipper take him twice as long, but the sound when he finally tosses his belt and jeans off to the side is well worth the wait.
He licks his lips, looking up at you -- waiting, watching. Your earlier thoughts regarding his legs are heightened tenfold as you take in his toned thighs and hard cock in-between. He’s thick, the bulge pressing against his boxer-briefs making your heart skip a beat. The mere idea of him stretching you open has you growing too impatient for what you have planned.
“Keep going.” You swallow and hope your voice doesn’t sound too shaky.
Clint’s quick fingers make work of the fabric, and you focus on finishing yourself off. You pull your shirt off and let it drop to your feet before your hands move to unhook your bra. You’re barely sliding the straps down your arms when you hear Clint huff, and you look back to him.
“I wanted to do that,” he almost whines, chest puffing.
You roll your eyes but laugh, and toss your bra to him. He catches it with a wink, before throwing it behind him. Immediately, his gaze drags over your chest, excruciatingly slow. You know he’s taking in every inch, every natural mark that decorates your torso. Normally, you’d feel odd being examined so closely while still being at a decent distance -- but Clint is observant and his eyes are hungry.
Finally, his dark eyes reconnect with yours. “You gonna come sit or should I just grab you?” His tone is playful and daring, but you hear the hint of arousal that suggests he wouldn’t be opposed to tugging you into his arms. You don’t have time for games anymore, though, so you stand between Clint’s legs, and he pats his thigh playfully.
“Hmm…” You bite your lip and shake your head, eyes glistening with mischief. “Not yet…”
You make your descent to your knees perfectly paced, fluttering your lashes as you look up to Clint from between his thighs. He cusses and his arms fall limply to his side as he resigns himself to the torture he knows you’ll be sure to deliver.
“I thought you wanted to take your time,” you tease, fingers sliding up his thigh. Your nails against his skin have him tensing, muscles quivering.
He groans, and tosses his head back. “That was before I made you cum. Just wanna fuck you now -- make you shake again.”
You pinch him. “Sweet-talking will get you nowhere, Barton. You should know that.” But, you still let your palm graze over his hard cock, twitching at your touch. He’s firm and warm, and when your fingers wrap around his length, you realize how deliciously thick he is, filling your grasp fully. The length is there too, just enough to not be intimidating, but the girth has your core throbbing.
“Fuck, Clint,” you groan, giving a slow jerk of your wrist. “You’ve been holding out on me.”
He’s pulsing in your hand, skin flushed and precum beginning to drip from the head of his cock. It coats your hand on the second stroke, easing the drag. Soon enough, he’s practically glistening, and your mouth waters. You have to taste him.
He calls your name, voice trembling, as your tongue darts out to flatten against his tip. “Oh God, please.” He’s flushed, from his cheeks to his tensing thighs, and you’d grin if you weren’t taking him deeper into your mouth. Another part of the burning, fervid desire deep in your veins lights up as your lips wrap around him -- tongue greedy for more as it laps everything it can reach. A growl reverberates through his entire body, and the sound makes your thighs clench.
You spare him a glance, and he looks destroyed. Sweat gathers on his forehead and the veins in his arm pulse as he grips the cushions to stay steady. Sane. Calm.
His knuckles are white and you relieve them by grabbing his left hand in your own, thumb rubbing over the back of his palm. He’s squeezing you like you’re his lifeline, and you reward him with your free hand around his base.
“Fuck fuck, I’ll cum too fast with you doing that,” Clint grunts, and you watch his chest heave as he tries to steady his breathing.
You pull off him with a line of spit, breaking it with your hand as you use the saliva to glide your fingers. He’s still throbbing, and you trace his underside vein with your wet thumb. “I thought that was the point, right?” You repeat his words from earlier with a grin, pressing a kiss against his thigh as your hand speeds up. He’s so close and he needs it so badly, but he finally pulls his hand from yours to grab your moving wrist.
“Not until I fuck you.” He pants, and begrudgingly removes your hold from his cock. “And a couple times, at the very least.”
Your heart races at the mere thought of as many rounds as you can handle, with Clint making you cum again and again. Still, you stand slowly, silently hoping he’ll push you back to your knees and cum down your throat.
But he doesn’t. He watches closely as you straighten out, and you quickly move to straddle him. “Fine, but you’ll let me ride you, understood?” Your thighs brush over him with the lightest touch, and with just one solid movement, you could have him sinking into you. But, you wait. You watch as he swallows heavily, eyes hooded.
Clint gives you a lopsided smile. “No complaints here, babe.” And with that, you reach down to hold his length, pressing the tip against your clenching, wet, core. He gasps, but you shift just slightly, until he bumps your clit. It’s too much and too little all at once, and you let out a soft cry as he jerks upward, precum coating the swollen nub. You reward yourself with one more drag down from your clit before letting the head of his cock push into you.
You’re immediately clenching around his length, and Clint’s calloused fingertips dig into your hips as he helps steady you. It only takes a couple breaths and a slow spread of your thighs to take him fully, arousal coating his cock quickly. He barely holds himself back from rutting into you right away, but you rock your hips and grip his shoulders regardless.
“Fuck,” he half-groans, half-whimpers. “You’re so fucking wet.”
Your nails dig into his skin as you roll again, letting out an incoherent babble of his name as your clit gains friction from his own warm body. You can feel your own wetness dripping down your thigh onto his, and it has you shuddering. It’s so dirty and your fingers move to Clint’s hair, desperately clinging at the long strands. His forehead presses to yours, and he smells like the most dangerous concoction of sweat, cologne, and mint toothpaste you’ve ever had the honor of inhaling.
You join in an almost-kiss that’s all teeth, but he brushes his tongue against your cupid’s bow in a much gentler way, and you know he can feel the shiver that runs down your spine in reaction. He squeezes your hip gently in reassurance, and then his grip on you tightens. It doesn’t hurt, but you can feel the years of arm workouts, and you know there’s no way to escape -- as if you’d ever want to.
Clint’s knee jerks and then he’s thrusting up into you with such force it leaves you breathless. He holds you down and all you can do is gasp and hold him tighter as he pushes into you harder and faster. Every shift provides a new angle and friction as his tip stimulates your sensitive walls.
Your thighs shake desperately and you can hear the wet slap each of his movements provide as you coat his cock in warm slick. He grins at the sight, one hand drifting from your hip until it reaches your throbbing clit.
“Look at you,” he coos and punctuates the words with a rough circle of his thumb.
Your chest heaves as you gasp, but the lack of Clint’s hold gives you a second to grind against him. He grunts as you do, and you chuckle breathlessly against his parted lips.
“And look at you.”
He retorts by way of another rub against your clit, and your laughter quickly turns to a drawn-out moan.
“You look so pretty when you’re about to cum.” He pants between every word, but he’s determined to deliver the compliment that makes your face too warm. You’re not sure how he knows you’re so close -- it must be way more embarrassingly obvious than you thought -- but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when he’s letting his cock drag inside you slowly, with a hard thrust every few seconds. Not when the pressure on your clit is changing so rapidly you can’t breathe.
When you do cum, with a broken cry and shaking torso, Clint doesn’t let up. He goes faster, harder. It’s a never-ending high that turns your brain to mush, and your body into even less. Your thighs burn and your toes curl but all you can feel is the delicious length buried deep inside you.
It’s only during the beginning of the cool down that you tug a little harder on Clint’s hair, and roll your hips a little more. “C’mon, Clint, please. Please fill me up.” His chest rumbles against yours with a throaty growl, and you continue to ride out your orgasm as he fucks into you with a few more desperate, shaky thrusts.
He cums in you thick and warm, with a groan of your name. It tumbles from his lips sinfully, and you commit the sound to memory. The rasp of his tone and the sight of his wet, swollen lips.
It’s not until he eases out of you slowly, and you feel the drip down your thigh that you’re grounded and reminded of exactly where you are. On a multi-thousand dollar couch. Owned by Tony Stark.
“Oh my god, Clint.”
His eyes are closed and you’re sure he’s about three seconds from sleeping for eighteen hours, but he manages a tired smirk. “I know. That was good.”
“No! I mean yes. But that’s not what I’m talking about.”
He half-opens one eye. “What?”
“I think we stained the couch.” A quick glance between Clint’s thighs all but confirms it, and you’re not sure whether to be proud or embarrassed by the very large wet spot staining the blended fabric.
“I can’t believe that’s what you’re thinking about right now. After everything that just happened.”
You playfully slap his shoulder as you roll onto the cushion next to him with a huff. He nudges you back with his arm before clearing his throat, and letting out a butchered impression of your voice. “Oh Clint! Your dick was just so amazing!-”
“Oh my god!” You cover your face but nothing stops the laughter that rumbles through your chest -- even if he’s got your tone completely wrong. He just chuckles and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his side with a sigh.
“How much do you think we’ll owe Tony by the end of the day?” He looks down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.
“What do you mean?”
He rolls his eyes, but presses a chaste kiss to your hair. “C’mon, you don’t think I haven’t planned out every surface we still need to fuck on before they get back?”
“Clint!”
“See, you keep screaming my name but for all the wrong reasons.” Now you can feel his grin against the top of your head, and it comes into view as he stands with you still in his grasp. You’re not sure how he maneuvers it, but he’s got you in his arms before you can even blink, and the look he sends you tells you not to complain or even question it. He’s not even out of breath -- all things considered -- and when you glance in the direction he’s heading, your eyes widen.
“You have got to be joking…” You squirm in his arms as he sets you down on the table used for almost every meeting, and the mere thought of defiling it forever makes you squeeze your legs together shyly.
But, Clint is quick to spread them, all with a cocky grin and a far too confident tone.
“I don’t know about you…” He begins, as his fingers trail up your thigh. “But I think we could reach ten thousand by midnight.”
If you distantly hear FRIDAY warn adamantly against it -- neither of you mention it.
“Better get started then, Barton.”
---
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koko-bopp · 4 years
Text
Sexiled
jeon jungkook x male!reader
word count - 1.9K
genre - SMUT! fluff, soft-angst
contains - virgin!submissive-top!jungkook (he eventually becomes more dominant), calling jungkook ‘bunny’, no penetration; just grinding, dominant-bottom!reader, No mentions of the reader's genitalia, reader is really affectionate, talks of consent.
synopsis - you’re roomates with Jungkook’s friend, when your roomate kicks you out of the apartment to do the deed with his boyfriend, you go to Jungkook’s in hopes he’ll give you some shelter for a few hours.
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"Kookie! Hi!" You smile brightly at the younger male, standing at the door of his apartment, looking over his shoulder to see if there was anyone else in the house; and holding a takeaway container of pork belly in one hand and a small carton of banana milk in the other. You look back at Jungkook before speaking, "Is Taehyung home too or are you alone?"
Jungkook was a little confused, he glanced at the contents in your hand, his hand at the doorknob even though the door was wide open. What's Y/N L/N doing at his apartment? His cheeks must be burning red, his bestfriend's friend is at the door, "Er, Tae moved out last week, he's a few streets down–"
"Ah! Good, so it's just you!" You exclaim in relief, "Can I come in?"
Jungkoom was a little surprised at the request, considering the only time you came over was as a plus-one for Hoseok at every event Taehyung was hosting at the apartment or somewhere else, you were close with his Hyungs then you were with him. But Jungkook nodded anyway, naturally not being one to turn someone away.
The two of you went to different universities, opposite ends of the city, actually; but only lived in apartments opposite from each other. Jungkook isn't very discreet with his crush on you, people usually don't spontaneously turn red upon seeing you, or fiddle with their fingers, or stutter two times too many. You were better at hiding it, however.
You had placed yourself in the centre of the living room, between the television sitting on a platform and the coffee table in front of the couch, before facing Jungkook with a grin, "Could I stay the night?"
"What?" Jungkook almost didn't believe what he heard. The question was clear and direct but yet he still struggled to comprehend it. He coughed at the surprise, it was like a punch in the throat, but he managed to compose himself better to answer your question, "I mean, sure, I guess. But what's wrong with your place?"
"Hoseok has his boyfriend over, and he very politely asked him to leave because he and Yoongi had talked about fucking in the kitchen and obviously, me being a good friend, I decided to give him that privacy, but I forgot as I was leaving that I literally wouldn't have a place to sleep, so I realised that your living quarters are the closest–"
"[Y/N]. You can stay, it's fine.. I'm just surprised, that's all," Jungkook mumbles a bit. The world works in mysterious ways, bringing you here was certainly an interesting choice.
"I bought you pork belly with rice, and banana milk as an offering," you smile, placing the meal and drinks on the dining table after walking over to it. The table only having two chairs, which is understandable considering Jungkook lives alone now, "We can watch a movie! And I'm more than happy to sleep on the couch!" You chime, trying your best to make the moment less awkward for him, since, to be fair, you did come rather unannounced..
"Taehyung actually hadn't taken his bed, he let me keep it," Jungkook explained, avoiding your gaze in an attempt to hide his reddened cheeks, "You're welcome to sleep there, I actually just changed the bedsheets– and, thank you for the food, you really didn't have to."
You were grateful as to how selfless Jungkook is, he's younger than you but provides all the boyfriend and friendship material. "Awe, thank you!" You gush, gleely heading towards Jungkook to give him a hug, wrapping your arms around the brunet.
You felt him hesitantly place his hands on your hips, then carefully lacing his arms so that his fingers were holding his elbows as he hugged you back; a warm feeling, and you were always so affectionate. Jungkook almost pouted when you let go of him, but your hand now upon his cheek so you could look at him properly, and it made him freeze. You spoke with concern, your eyebrows furrowed as you assessed the younger, "Are you okay? Are you sick, Bunny?"
"B-bunny?"
You giggle, "Yeah, you know, you look like a bunny; cute, witty, I don't know why you're so shy, I've never seen you like this."
"I guess I'm just... A lot more outgoing in front of my Hyungs.." He forces out a snicker, your thumb now caressing his cheek, not intending for the action to further make his face hot. He really likes the feeling of your skin on his, he just has no idea how to react like a normal human, and it's making him when more embarrassed. Why can't he be like Jin-Hyung and flirt back? Or be more confident like Tae? It was difficult to express the way he wanted without fearing his actions.
"Ah, you're so cute," You say, bopping his nose then fully releasing him from your confining space. "So, about the movie, you can pick. And, you know, you can have your pork belly while we watch and I promise not to disturb."
-`•. ♘
"Why this one, though?"
"It's my favourite movie," he hid his face in a pillow, you two were sitting next to each other; you were sitting with your legs diagonally tucked away from your chest while Jungkook sat upright with his feet on the floor and back against the couch and a pillow hugging his chest.
"Huh," you shrug, chuckling a little before throwing a pretzel from the bowl that was sitting on the coffee table in your mouth, "Didn't take you as the romance buff type."
"I actually really like this movie, Taehyung was watching vintage romance movies once and he suggested this one to me," Jungkook explains, the movie carefully reaching the halfway point as his eyes were glued to the loose thread on the pillowcase, "And I've watched it fourteen times."
"Fourteen?!"
"Fifteen if you count this one," Jungkook laughs softly, "Or maybe not, I haven't really been paying attention..."
You reached for the remote sitting in between the two of you, then pointing the device at the television to close the sound down to a 2. Jungkook was confused. Even more confused when you shifted your body to face Jungkook, placing your palm on your cheekbone and your elbow on the neck of the couch, "Okay. Bunny. What's wrong?"
"I-" He stopped, not being able to avert his eyes from you from the sudden call-out, "What are you talking about?"
"C'mon, are you sick? Is there something on your mind? Is it uni? Because if you have work to do you're no way obliged to be spending time with–"
"No, it's not uni," Jungkook sighs, finally moving his eyes away from you but still picking at the loose thread. "It's– it's hard to explain..."
"I'm waiting, Bunny. Please?" You beg, asserting your bother, "Seeing you nervous when I've seen you drown shots like water makes me feel weird too."
Jungkook thought for a moment, he heard his own heart beating through his chest, and the sound was rapid. "Could I show you instead?"
You nodded.
Jungkook leaned in close, “I like you,” he whispered, placing a hand on your cheek with his fingers touching softly, letting his breathing and closeness longer for a moment to let you know what he was going to do, but also out of the hesitation himself.
So, you placed a peck on his lips first, just a small and quick one, and it didn't seem to catch Jungkook by suprise, because he leaned back in to kiss you properly. Lips dancing with yours gently yet still wanting to convey his answer.
He brings you closer and you place your hand on his shoulder, still wanting to be sure that you can touch him properly, but enjoying the privileges that Jungkook was giving you.
"Mhm," Jungkook hums, pulling away for a second and looking down at the space between the two of you; his lips more crimson and his breathing more uneven, "I've never... you know–"
"Oh," you stop, "Do you want to? You know if you're not comfortable we don't have to do anything–"
"I want you to..." His words came out more firm, brining his hand down to yours, lacing them so he could guide you to sit on top of his lap. He smiled at your little giggle at his action, watching you lower yourself over his thighs and either leg beside his as he placed one of your hands on his shoulder. He moved his other hand up your back with the back of his index finger, tracing the over the clothes, "If you're willing as well."
You nodded softly, shivering under his touch, "I really like you too, Jungkook.."
He chuckled s little, "Since when?" He asked, thumbing his thumb over your hips.
"Jennie's 20th... On the yatch.." You admitted, clenching a fist over his black hoodie, grinding down against him gently, becoming more impatient, careful enough to ignite arousal, and just enough too have Jungkook's breath more breathy in the slightest. "You said that confident guys made you nervous, they're your type; I've been seizing my opportunity ever since."
Jungkook held a firm grip on your hips, watching your breath hitch when he forced you down to grind into him harder, "That– fuck– that was two years ago. You really liked me this long?"
You swallowed the lump in your throat, nodding while avoiding his gaze. A moan left your lips when he leaned forward, deciding to kiss your neck the way he see fit as he silently guided you in a way to grind on him through clothes, feeling his bulge growing the more you continued your actions and getting more horny with his licking and sucking your neck to leave deeper shades of colours and bite marks. "J-Jungkook, oh my god."
A small chuckle left the other's lips, looking at you with lust-driven eyes as he rocked his hips upwards, pulling you down so to feel how hard he was. Hearing you moan because of him was such a euphoric feeling, "You sound so pretty, [Y/N].."
You grind down harder, holding his shoulders as moans and grunts have started erupting from Jungkook too, "You sure you haven't done this before, Bunny? You certainly know how to please people," you tease, placing a kiss on his lips as he gripped your his with rough hands.
"Hmm," he hummed, his eyebrows furrowing in pleasure at the darkened spot on his dark blue shorts due ot the precum leaking from his cock, "I’ve messed around with people... but haven’t fucked anyone..”
“I’m impressed, Bunny,” you bite you lip, rolling down harder and it resulted in Jungkook throwing his dead back with a loud moan, watching his neck muscles clench as you look the opportunity to paint kisses along his gold skin, and his grip on your hips tight with the intention of having something to hold onto as you moved so sinfully. Pressing a final kiss on Jungkook’s neck before you reached up close to his ear, your voice drops to a whisper, “Can I suck you, Jungkook?”
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nashibirne · 3 years
Text
Against All Odds - 19
Today we have to say goodbye to Anna and Henry, this is the last chapter of "Against All Odds".
I'm really a little sad and melancholic. This was my first story here on Tumblr and it has been quite a ride. But it's time to let go and give them the happy ending they deserve. I initially planned to leave it to pure fluff and exclude smut but somehow my hand slipped...it just came over me...and them. So lots of fluff and some smut ahead. Enjoy!
Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Anna) Warnings: Lots of fluff, some smut, NSFW, 18 +, sex, dry humping, masturbation, thigh riding, slight daddy kink / male dom, choking, public sex, unprotected sex. Unbeta'ed! English is not my first language, so consider yourself warned, there might be bad grammar and wrong spelling ahead.
All previous parts can be found here: Masterlist
Likes, reblogs and comments are very welcome.
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So here we go...let the grand finale begin...
~~~~~~~
When Henry looked out of the window after his morning routine almost three month after the encounter with Lestat he cursed internally. The weather was really shitty. It was raining lightly and fog was swirling above the woods and meadows that surrounded his farm. He could only hope that the forecast was right and the sun would show soon. He needed this day to be perfect and sunny weather was only a little part of a bigger plan.
It turned out he was lucky. When Anna and Henry walked the dogs together in the afternoon the sun was shining bright from a cloudless blue sky. It was warm for this time of the year and there was a light breeze that rustled through the trees.
"Why don't we take another route today, princess?" Henry looked at Anna with a smile. 
"Sure, where do you want to go?"
"This way." Henry pointed to the left and Anna seemed to be not too enthusiastic about his idea.
"Is that even a regular path? It looks quite overgrown. The dogs will be full of ticks again and we're going to rip our clothes. I'm wearing a brand new jacket." She looked at him with a frown.
Shit.
This was so typical for Anna. She was a practical person, always reasonable, and he loved it that she was so down to earth but today he needed her to take this god damn path. Otherwise his surprise wouldn't work. 
"I just want to discover new places, Baby. Expand our horizons. It's going to be fun." Henry said before he brought up the big guns. It was time for poetry.
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." 
Henry recited with a grin.
"Wow...Robert Frost… I'm impressed." Anna laughed. "Don't be. You made me watch 'Dead Poets Society' three times. I know every single poem that was quoted in that very good movie."  Henry pulled her into a hug and kissed her on the forehead tenderly. "Come on." "Fine. I'm willing to follow you anywhere. Oh Captain, my Captain." Smiling, she gave him a peck on the cheek.  "Captain. I like the sound of that." Henry smirked and took her by the hand.
They followed the path for a while and it turned out that Anna was right. It was overgrown, almost jungle-like in some areas, so they had to climb over some trunks and bushes and squeeze through a thorny bramble hedge but Anna didn't complain. On the contrary. She loved the picturesque atmosphere and took dozens of pictures with her mobile. 
"This is really lovely, Henry. I'm glad we chose this path. It was a good idea to try something new." She beamed and kissed him happily. He chuckled. "Are you saying I was right?" "I wouldn't go that far." Anna grinned before she took another series of photos.
After half an hour and a lot of stumbling through the undergrowth they reached the regular path, that led to a large meadow, that was surrounded by hedges and a low stonewall. Anna took a look around with a frown. "I know this place…" "Yeah, you should." Henry winked and it dawned on her. "This is the place where we first met. Oh my god, Henry. I crouched over a fly agaric over there when Kal knocked me over." "Yes. And I came to your rescue and fell for you almost instantly." He took her in his arms and pulled her close. "That was exactly one year ago." His voice was soft and full of love. "Really? I totally forgot about the date. I'm so unromantic...sorry, Baby." "Don't worry, princess. You have other qualities." Henry smirked before kissing her. He let his hands slide to her ass, giving it a squezze which made Anna moan. "Behave, Cavill." She gave him a sexy smile. "No way." He kissed her again, passionately this time and she returned the kiss with the same vigour. When he finally pulled away he left her panting for breath. "Wow...this keeps getting better and better." "Oh...just wait for it." Henry walked over to a large lime tree and reached behind the trunk. When he turned around again he held a basket in his hands. "Picnic!" Anna cheered. "Oh Darling...this is such a great surprise. And you know I hate surprises...normally." "But not today."  "No, today I love it."
Henry smiled and started flattening a checkered blanket right under the lime. He sat down and patted on the free spot beside him. "Come on, princess. Sit down and let me show you what I've got for you." "There's nothing I'd rather do." Anna plopped down on the blanket, watching Henry unpack the basket. He placed two plates, cutlery, two glasses and a bottle of rosemary water on the blanket. To Anna's big surprise he even raked out the little Bluetooth speaker that normally stood in his kitchen. He connected it to his mobile and started his 80s rock playlist.
"Wow, you've thought of everything. But what about food?" "Mylady wishes for food, mylady shall have food." Henry grinned and got various boxes out of the basket, opening them he started to explain what he had prepared for them. "We have different kinds of cheese, grapes, olives, cherry tomatoes, nuts and raisins, Belgian filled Chocolates plus...and I can proudly say in advance that this is homemade by me...a loaf of delicious freshly baked bread." Anna clapped her hands, beaming all over her face. "Henry...this looks heavenly." "Let's eat then, my love."
Anna was right, the food was delicious and they enjoyed their little picnic very much, taking their time to taste all the things Henry had prepared, chatting and laughing, watching the dogs play and just savouring this carefree time of togetherness. When they were done with eating they cleared the blanket and stuffed everything except the speaker back into the basket. 
Anna cuddled up in Henry's arms. He was sitting under the lime tree now, his back leaning against the trunk. 
"Thank you so much, Baby. This was such a perfect surprise and such a lovely picnic." "Oh we're not done yet...I have another surprise for you." Henry cleared his throat and was about to get up but Anna was faster. She straddled his lap before Henry realized what she was up to.
"Really, Mr. Cavill? Another surprise?" She whispered in his ear. "Is it big?" She looked at him with a smirk before she kissed him. Henry grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer to deepen the kiss. It got hot and erotic very fast. Anna started to rub her pussy against the bulge in his jeans slowly, she felt his hard on through the woolen fabric of the leggings she wore under her denim skirt.
"Oohh...it is big. Huge even." she said, still riding him. "That's not what I meant when I said I had another surprise, babe." Henry moaned. His hands were under her shirt now, stroking her full breasts through her bra. "Do you want to stop?" Anna moved her body away from his lap, straddling one of his thick thighs now. She let her hands slide over his crotch, massaging his dick through his trousers, looking at him innocently.  "Princess…." he growled, grabbing her hips, making her move on his thigh. Anna let out a muffled moan. The friction between his massive leg and her sensitive pussy was pure pleasure even though there were three layers of fabric between his skin and hers. "Henry…" Anna started riding his thigh looking at him. She sighed and licked her lips. "...we have to be quiet and very discreet."  "Don't worry, baby girl. This is private property. Nobody's here except us." "I know...just in case…" Anna was already out of breath because she had picked up speed, rubbing against Henry in a faster rhythm now. Her moans were getting louder. "Do you like it, baby? Riding my thigh like a cheap little slut?" Henry hissed through clenched teeth. His hard-on was throbbing in his jeans painfully. "Rubbing your tight little pussy over me?" Anna just sighed and leaned in to kiss him but Henry stopped her. "Answer me, princess." "Yes...yes, Daddy. I love it." She groaned, feeling her orgasm coming closer and closer. "Good girl. I'm going to reward you." Henry slapped her ass before he started fumbling with the buttons of his jeans. Anna stopped moving, watching him agape with big eyes. "Keep moving, baby."  Henry ordered and Anna obeyed but her eyes never left his hands that were now getting out his rock hard dick. He started stroking himself, letting out a long moan. "Yeah...that's it." He said, locking eyes with Anna. "That's it, princess. Watch me, watch me touching my big cock. Look at me and come for me." "Oh, god...I love your dick, Daddy. It's so thick…" Anna whispered in a sweet voice, panting and moaning while she rode his thigh harder. "No talking, princess." Henry slapped her ass again with his free hand, the other hand pumping his dick that was glistening with pre cum. "But Daddy…" Anna shrieked when she felt the hand that had just slapped her ass on her throat. "No talking…." Henry growled. "Just come for me." The way he squeezed her throat with well measured pressure, giving her the feeling of being completely at his mercy, combined with the sight of his big hand jerking himself off was enough to send her over the edge. Her orgasm was long and intense and she rode it out devouring the sensation. "Good girl." Henry sighed and it took him just another few thrusts into his hand to cum too. Anna leaned forward, resting her forehead on his. "Wow...Baby….that was something. I've never had sex fully dressed before." She grinned at him and gave him a tender kiss. "Yeah, it was great…even though it wasn't part of my plan." Henry smirked, grabbing a napkin to clean up the mess his cum had left on his jeans and Anna's jacket. Anna laughed and got up, straightening her clothes. "So what was your plan? What's the other surprise you have for me?"
Henry looked at her with a frown, getting up too. "You really want to know?" 
"Of course."
"Okay. Then...let's dance." He winked at her with a sly smile and grabbed his phone. He started searching through the playlist and stopped it before playing a certain song.
"May I ask for this dance?" He held out his hand to her and Anna gladly took it.
"Sure." She said and Henry pulled her close and they started to sway their bodies to the music. It was "Forever" by Kiss that was playing. A beautiful ballad Anna and Henry liked a lot. They had made slow, sensual love to this song countless times.
I see my future when I look in your eyes
It took your love to make my heart come alive
'Cause I lived my life believing all love is blind
But everything about you is telling me this time...
Anna looked at Henry and he kissed her. It was a tender kiss, full of love and devotion.
...it's forever, this time I know
And there's no doubt in my mind
Forever, until my life is through
Girl I'll be loving you forever.
When the song was over Henry took a step back, reaching into his pocket, getting out a little box. He had planned this for so long, had played it through in his head again and again but now he was a nervous wreck all of the sudden. He took a deep breath before getting down on one knee opening the box, presenting her a beautiful engagement ring. 
Anna gasped when she realized what was happening. She bit her lip, holding her breath.
"Anna, my love. I know it's only been a year since we met and 9 months that we're together but though this is quite a short span of time it has been the most wonderful and happy time in all my life. You complete me, Darling. You make me whole, you are my home, my heart, my soul, my everything. I love you more than I could ever say and therefore I'm kneeling here, asking you if you want to spend the rest of your life with me. Anna Wagner...do you want to marry me?"
Anna let out a deep breath, beaming with joy.
"Yes...oh my god...yes, Henry. Of course I want to marry you." She took his hands, dragged him up and pulled him into a tight embrace before kissing him tenderly.
"I love you, Cavill."
"I love you, princess."
******
Three years later
When Anna came back from her appointment in town to Old Johnson's Farm in the  afternoon she found Henry sleeping on the couch peacefully. Their little boy Peter -they had named him after Anna's late father- was sleeping on Henry's broad chest, snoring softly, Kal was lying at Henry's feet, snoring not quite so softly.
Anna couldn't help but smile like a love-struck fool. This was all she'd ever wanted. A loyal man, who truly loved and respected her, a home, a family. And now that she had it, it was even better than she could have ever imagined. Henry was a perfect husband and a fantastic father - loving, caring, patient and still the dorky nerd, she had fallen for four years ago. 
After Peter had been born Henry had stepped back from work for a year to spend as much time as possible with them and to have Anna's back who had started to work again part-time after three months. Henry had done a lot of audio books over the last sixth month -it was work he could easily do at home- and he really liked it. Of course it had been a huge success. Henry didn't really get why but Anna knew every time she heard his deep, dark voice that felt like velvet in her ears.
Pete was 14 months old now and from next week on Henry would be away for a while to shoot the next Witcher season. She was a little scared of the times that were awaiting her. It would be the first time for them to be apart for so long and the first time for Anna to face the fact that her husband was going to shoot sex scenes with attractive young women like Anya Chalotra. But she knew she would be able to deal with it. It was already decided that she and Peter would visit Henry on set to meet his co-stars and to get a feeling for his work and the process of acting.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Peter's babbling. She took him from Henry's chest into her arms and hugged him gently. "Shush...little pea...we don't want to wake daddy." She whispered in his ear before kissing his soft, chubby cheeks several times. 
Henry seemed to realize that Peter's weight on his chest was missing and he mumbled something incomprehensible before he turned around, but he didn't wake up. Anna knew he was exhausted. He had been up all night to calm down Pete who was teething. Anna wanted to take turns but Henry wouldn't let her because she had to get up early for work.
"Come on, pumpkin. Let's go feed the horses and let daddy and Kal get some sleep. You wore them out last night."
She smiled when she took another look at the man she loved. "It's really good that your dad has such a broad chest." She said softly to her son with a happy smile on her face. "With a little luck there will be two little pumpkins sleeping on it in seven months' time."
THE END
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lost-in-the-80s · 3 years
Text
Once Upon A Time In Hollywood
Pairing: Axl Rose x (fem) reader
Words: 2,546k
Requested by: @sugwinter
Summary: You, one of the most prestigious actresses in Hollywood, meet Axl Rose at a party and the two of you just can’t stay away from each other. 
A/N: I’m sorry Tarantino, but the title fitted too well for me not to use it. Thanks for the request, darling! I LOVED this concept!! I hope you like it 💗
Note: This is the second version of it, since I didn’t like the first one. Tell me what you guys thought of it :)
Tag list: @roger-taylors-car @ladieswttda @teasid @metalheartofgold @slashscowboyboots @ginny-rose-sixx @rumoured-whispers @normatural​ add yourself to my tag list :)
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Once upon a time in Hollywood, there was a smart young woman named Y/N. She had always been ambitious and very determined so she knew she wanted to be an actress at a very young age.
When she was 16 she started running after her dreams. Coming from a poor neighborhood in Los Angeles, she’d take the bus every day after school and go to Hollywood, distributing resumes at every set she could find, hoping to get any type of work that could bring her closer to her dream.
The chance came a few months later when she was hired to be the director’s assistant. Her work consisted of getting coffee, organizing his table, staying with him while filming and distributing the scripts to all the cast members.
He was directing a sitcom and one day the main actress didn’t show up for the filming, realizing that the two of them looked alike, he asked Y/N to take her place during that day.
She did such a good job, that the following year he called her asking if she would be interested in taking part in a movie.
That was the first of many jobs, 10 years had passed after that. It was 1991 and Y/N was one of the highest-paid actresses in Hollywood, any movie with her name on, joined countless people in cinema lines just to see it. 
She didn’t just make movies and series, but she extended her career,  taking part in some modeling jobs for major brands and appearing in video clips.
That’s how she met Steven Tyler, the infamous vocalist of Aerosmith. She had said in an interview that Aerosmith was one of her favorite bands and got surprised when the band’s manager got in touch with her a few days later asking if she would want to take part in a video clip of theirs. 
Doing small talk before the footage they found out they had the same zodiac sign, Aries. After that the two of them got really along, Steven invited her to have dinner with him and his wife and soon all of them became good friends. 
That’s how she ended up here, on March 26th in front of his mansion, a bottle of expensive wine wrapped as a gift in one hand while the other rang the doorbell. 
“Y/N! Come in!” It was Steven’s wife.
“Hello, Teresa, how are you?” She hugged her.
“I’m fine!” She smiled tenderly at Y/N.
There was rock music blasting from the speakers sprawled around the living room, where lots of people were dancing and having fun together. Steven was known for having many friends.
“Ste!!” She shouted, lifting her arms to get a hug from the man.
“Y/N! I’m happy that you came!”  He hugged her while smiling.
“Happy birthday!!” She let go of him. “Here, I brought you a gift.”
“Ohh, this is one of my favorites!” He smirked checking out the bottle. “I’ll take it to the wine house before someone decides to drink it.” He gave her a small smile, turning around. 
That’s when she saw him. He was talking to some people, his hair half-covered by a blue bandana. He was already looking at her, smiling in her direction when their gazes met. 
A shiver ran through her body at that moment. He was beautiful, an adjective she hardly used with men. But damn, she had never seen a man like that before. Everything on him looked perfect, his beard, his hair, his eyes and the shape of his face. 
He lifted his beer in her direction and she gave him a small smile, contemplating if she should go and try to talk to him. However, a friend of hers showed up, blocking her plans.
After a few minutes of talking her friend walked away, but the ginger man had disappeared. Walking towards the kitchen she got herself a beer and went to the backyard where some people were smoking, including Steven.
“Can I have one?” She asked, stopping beside him.
He handed her the cigarette, without saying anything. The two of them just stayed there, looking at the night sky in silence. 
“What’s up?” She frowned, turning to look at him.
“What do you mean?” He looked down at her.
“You’re quiet tonight.” She drank from her beer, still looking at him.
“That makes two of us.” He smiled at her.
“Fair enough.” She grinned. “You go first.” Y/N pointed at him with the bottle while taking the cigarette to her lips.
“I was just thinking… I’m already in my forties.” 
“Annd?” She prolonged the question, raising an eyebrow.
“I thought I’d be dead by now.” He said giggling, making her laugh as well.
She shook her head. “Quit using it and I’m sure you’ll live a very long life, Tyler.” 
“I’ll try, I’ll try.” He puffed some smoke. “What about you? What’s going on that little head of yours?” He touched her forehead with his index finger, giggling at his own gesture.
“There’s a guy inside…” 
He raised an eyebrow, instigating her to keep talking.
“He seems familiar.”
“How does he look like?”
“He’s ginger, with a bandana and leather jacket.” She dragged some smoke.
“Oh, that’s Axl. He’s from Guns n Roses.” He threw his cigarette on the pavement, stepping on it.
Realization took hold of her face. “Oh yeah. Paradise City! I remember now.”
“Did he catch your eye?” He asked smirking.
“You know how I am. I’m weak on the knees for a ginger.” She smirked back.
“Let’s go inside then, I’ll introduce the two of you.” 
She followed him inside the house, putting out the cigarette in an ashtray she found on the way.
They found him in the kitchen, putting some punch on a red plastic glass nearby the counter. 
“Axl!” He shouted over the music, stopping nearby the man. “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet..”
Fuck, Steven. You really know how to be discreet. She thought to herself.
“Axl, this is Y/N.” With a hand on her back, he led her closer to him. “Y/N this is Axl.” He grinned at them.
“Nice to meet you.” Axl said, extending his hand for her to shake.  
She shook his hand giving him a small smile.
“I was just telling Y/N that you guys released a new album this year…” Steven looked at her. 
“There’s two of them actually.” He answered while taking a sip from the punch.
“So I’ve heard! But I didn’t get the chance to listen to them yet.”
“Yeah, they’re pretty recent… Did you listen to the previous ones?”
“I did! They’re quite impressive, I must say.”
He smiled at her. “I’ve seen some movies of yours too.”
“Oh, did you? What did you think of them?”
“They’re… quite impressive.” He mocked her while grinning. 
She giggled. 
“Ste, can you help me with something?” Teresa showed up, hugging Steven from the side.
“Of course my darling.” He hugged her back. “Sorry guys.” Giving them a small smile he left with Teresa. 
“Punch?” He asked seeing that her bottle was empty. 
“Yes, please.” She placed the bottle on the counter. 
Axl handed her a glass, their fingers brushing against each other when she took it from his hand, making a strange electricity run through their bodies.
“Do you live here? In L.A I mean.” She asked before taking a small sip of the beverage. 
“I do, even though I’m never at home. I’m out on tour now, came back just for a few weeks.”
“It must be really tiring to be always traveling.”
“Well, it is, but it’s worth it. After all I get to do what I love.” His eyes shined while he spoke and she smiled at his passion. 
A tall guy came to the counter trying to get some punch for himself, making the two of them move.
Starting to lead him towards an adjacent living room, she asked. “Have you always wanted to be a singer?”
“No really, my family is very religious so I started singing in the church’s choir. Then someone told my mother that I could sing and she made me take classes almost every day. It was very exhausting, but it made me realize that I actually liked to sing.”
Arriving at the room, nobody was there and the music made itself lower, allowing them to talk in a normal volume. They sat on the purple velvet couch. 
“I would’ve never guessed. And are you still religious?”
“I mean, I don’t go to church anymore, but yeah, I’m still very religious.”
She nodded drinking from her glass. 
“What about you? Have you always wanted to be an actress?”
“Yes! I remember being 3 or 4 and sitting in the living room, I’d point to the TV and tell my mom that I wanted to do that.” She smiled with the memory, her eyes getting a different glist. 
“That’s a sweet memory.” He smiled at her.
And so they carried on with the conversation, talking about their favorite things and their ambitions, never letting an uncomfortable silence fill in. Even if they were sure that if the silence set in it would not be uncomfortable. The two were too comfortable with each other for this to happen.
Axl was leaning against the couch casually, his legs spread open while S/N had removed her high heels and was sitting with her two legs sprawled on top of the couch.
“And how did you end up in Los Angeles?” She asked.
“Well, when I was 16 or something, this boy from my school, he’s my rhythm guitarist now, he started a garage band with some other dudes and asked me to be their vocalist.” 
He paused getting closer to her.
“In the beginning, I was very shy, there would be days where I’d literally leave before I could sing anything. But after some time I got used to it and eventually realized that it was nice to rehearse with them.”
“However the band didn’t work out and when Izzy graduated high-school he moved to L.A, he said he’d start a band here. He asked me to come with him, but I was kinda scared of coming to a big city like this, so I stayed in Lafayette.” 
He looked around, realizing that the music had stopped. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t listened to anything for a good while. “I think we’re the only ones who are still here.” He giggled.
“No shit! What time is it?” She touched his arm, turning it towards her so she could see the time on his wristwatch. “Fuck, it’s almost 5 am.”
“Wow. We should go then.”
“Yeah!” Getting up she got her heels and purse and followed him through the house.
There were some people passed out in the living room and Steven and Teresa were in the kitchen, nearby the sink, talking quietly.
After saying their goodbyes Axl and Y/N exited the house. The cool breeze involved their bodies, even though they could see the sun starting to shine on the horizon. 
“Did you come driving?” He asked.
“No, I got a taxi actually.”
“Come, I’ll give you a ride then.”
They got into the car and Axl started driving slowly down the street. “Where should I take you to?”
“I live in Venice.”
“Alright then.” He turned right in a bifurcation.
Checking the interior of the car, Y/N realized it was a convertible one. She gasped. “It’s a convertible! Open it up, please!” 
He giggled pressing a button that opened the bonnet. “Why are you so impressed? I’m sure you have at least three of these in your car collection…”
“I don’t have a car collection. I don’t even have a car” She turned around on her seat. The bonnet was fully open and she enjoyed feeling the breeze on her hair.
“Why not?” He frowned, looking at her for a brief moment.
“You’re gonna laugh at me.” She sat still on her seat, placing her feet on the dashboard. 
“I promise I won’t.”
“Fine… I don’t know how to drive.” 
“Wait. What? But what about all those movies where you were driving?” He looked at her, trying to see if she was joking.
“I wasn’t really driving, silly.” She giggled.
He laughed along.
“Anyway, you were telling me about how you ended here.”
“Oh yeah! So, Izzy came to L.A and I stayed for two more years. I got a job and stuff, but I was always getting in trouble. I’d spend the night in jail and they’d let me go in the morning ‘cause it wasn’t a big deal. But then I got in trouble one more time and they told me they’d arrest me for real if they got me again. So I realized I should leave the city.”
“Hmm, so you’re a bad boy…” Y/N smirked.
“I guess so…. But you’re no saint yourself! You’re not best friends with the press…”
“Well...yeah! The problem is that I don’t know how to be politically correct, I just know how to be me, and people don’t usually like when you give them your honest opinion.”
He looked at her and saw that she was looking through the window.
“On top of that, I have a high tendency of not giving a fuck… I like to live, you know? I like to go out and enjoy every moment, I like to live in the present. But apparently, you’re a bad influence if they see you leaving a club at 3 am every weekend.”
With every word she said, the more he wanted to know about her. She was so much more than what he had thought. 
It was a long drive to Venice and accompanied by the soft music playing on the car radio they talked all the way, never getting tired of each other’s voice.
“That’s my building.” She pointed to a big white building in front of the beach.
“Fully delivered.” Axl said smiling, stopping the car in front of it and turning around to look at her.
“I really liked spending time with you.” She smiled.
“Do you think we could do it again on a date?” He asked expectantly.
“I’d love that! What about Friday?”
“Friday’s good for me. I’ll pick you up at 7 pm.” 
“Okay.”
The two of them just stayed still, looking at each other without saying anything. 
“Is it too early for me to kiss you?” He asked smiling.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you try it?” She smiled back.
And so the two of them leaned in, involving each other in a quick kiss that turned into a passionate one.
After a few seconds, she pulled away, catching her breath and opening the car door.
“Goodnight, Axl.” 
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
Little did they know that this was the beginning of a beautiful love story. Full of struggles and problems but that eventually worked out. They found a way of accepting their differences and getting along in a way that few couples could do. And after many years people still talked about them, after all, they became the most iconic 90s couple. 
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pepethehobbit · 3 years
Text
There really is no competition
VDS Week 2021
Day 5: Vacation
Ao3
This is a continuation of My Only You, so you should probably read that first, if you haven’t already.
~o~
“God, you're are worse than these two.”
Lucas looks up from where he sits on Jens' lap, trying to feed him some smores. He admits he was a little lost in Jens' giggle, reaching up to wipe away the chocolate around his mouth and just barely holding back from using his lips to kiss it off. Jens looks up too, confusion visible on his face as he turns his gaze to Moyo, whose words sounded harsh but there is a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Did you hear that, Robbe? We have competition,” Sander says with a smirk and Robbe just rolls his eyes at him fondly, used to his boyfriend's antics.
“There really is no competition, guys,” says Jens, sounding serious, but then he circles his arms around Lucas and reaches up to press a short but sweet kiss to Lucas' lips. And even though they have been dating for three months now, Jens' kisses still leave his lips tingling. “We're clearly cuter than them,” Jens continues with a pleased little smile that Lucas wants to kiss off.
Lucas hears Robbe and Sander scoff and say in unison: “You wish.”
There's a round of ohhhh's coming from Moyo and Aaron and Lucas can't fight the laugh at the ridiculous situation. When he looks at Jens he isn't much better off, but still rolling his eyes in fake protest.
It's only been two days since Jens has told his friends that he is bi and in a relationship with Lucas. He hadn't expected Jens to be so open with his affections, considering it was him who wanted to keep it a secret in the first place. Not that he is complaining, not in the slightest. He was still kinda wary with his touches, not sure how comfortable Jens would be, coming out only two day ago. Lucas wanted Jens to have the choice and control of how affectionate he wanted to be, didn't want to assume that he could simply kiss him in front of the others just because he had come out to them.
But then the next morning at breakfast Jens kissed him when Lucas came into the kitchen, so sure and unrelenting, not caring that the others were grumbling behind them at the PDA. And from then on, Jens has barely put any distance between them. Jens himself seems happier too, as if a weight has been taken off his shoulders, which, Lucas considers, is probably exactly that.
Keeping them a secret has been wearing down both of them. It was thrilling in the beginning but it became pretty difficult pretty fast having to rein in his touches and keeping a reasonable, platonic distance towards Jens whenever they were in public.
And apparently they weren't as successful at being discreet as they both thought they were. When Jens told Robbe, he looked at them both and the dimples were deep in his face caused by the wide smile he gave them both. “I knew it. I always thought there was something going on.”
At Jens' alarmed gaze Robbe pedaled back and said: “Don't worry, I think I'm the only one who noticed. Moyo and Aaron are idiots and caught in their heteronormative world view.” After that, Jens told the rest of his friends and since then Lucas has reveled in every bit of freely offered affection: Jens reaching out for his hand, tangling their fingers together, him playing with his hair, painting silly things on his back with sunscreen and those sweet little pecks that make Lucas want to reel Jens back in for more.
“But on a serious note, you really are great together and I'm happy for you,” says Sander and he shoots them a genuine smile. Lucas gives a smile of own, grateful for the words. Since he arrived in Antwerp Sander has become one his best friends, bonding over art, music and being a little shit, teasing the hell out of their other friends.
“Thank you,” says Jens softly and then his gaze turns towards Lucas. He looks deep into his eyes and Lucas is unable to tear his gaze away from the hypnotizing way the flames of the bonfire dance across Jens' nearly black eyes. Jens is all warmth and comfort and safety and Lucas can't hold himself back when he pulls him in for a deep and lingering kiss, leaving a few more pecks on his mouth before he pulls back finally. Jens' gaze is soft and warm and he feels how his arms circle him even closer into Jens' body.
“Ugh, okay. That's it. I take it back. You guys are actually worse,” Sander says and makes a retching sound but his voice is still full of fondness. Lucas and Jens let out a laugh after Robbe playfully hits Sander on the arm and he actually pouts.
“Mission accomplished, then,” says Jens and this time Lucas does kiss off the smug smile.
~o~
They only have two days left of their vacation and Lucas will seriously miss not being able to admire a shirtless Jens in swim shorts basically 24/7. The sun is shining down on their skin pleasantly warm and only shortly away from being on the brink of becoming too hot. The beach isn't as crowded today and they have no problem finding beach chairs for all of them. Lucas watches how Jens stretches out on his chair, pulling his arms behind his head, defining his toned arms and torso. The view makes Lucas swallow and he has to tear his eyes away before he does something stupid. Jens opens his eyes and finds Lucas', trying to suppress a smile. “Like what you see?”
Lucas doesn't understand why he is still so affected by Jens and blushes at the words. Before Jens told the others, Lucas found it easier to ignore the thoughts that crept up when he saw Jens like this. Maybe because he knew that touching him was off the table, knew he couldn't. But now, he was technically allowed but wasn't sure how to go about it. This was uncharted territory even for him.
Jens stands up abruptly and comes to stand next to Luc's beach chair. “Sit up and scoot forward.”
“What?” Lucas asks confused. Jens gives him a warm smile and only then does Lucas notice the bottle of sunscreen in his hand. “Oh,” is all Lucas says and suddenly feeling unreasonably nervous. Kissing Jens in front of his friends is one thing, accepting this kind of touch in front of strangers is another, making even him a bit hesitant. He is once again baffled by how fast Jens has become comfortable with touching him in front of people. Lucas does as Jens asks though and then Jens sits down behind him, knees pressing against Lucas' outer thighs.
Jens presses a light kiss to his shoulder and then he can hear the click of the bottle opening. Next to him he sees Sander wiggle his eyebrows suggestively and letting out a teasing whistle. Lucas gets flustered again and throws him a “Shut up, Sander.” Behind him he hears Jens chuckle quietly and Lucas repeats his sentiment, blushing despite himself, thankful that Jens can't see it. Jens squeezes his knees against his thighs shortly and begins rubbing the sun screen on Lucas' back.  
It's not what Lucas expected. Jens is methodical about it, spreading the cream across his back until all of it is covered. His touch is gentle but thorough and he takes his time, massaging Lucas' shoulder a little bit at the end. Lucas has to close his eyes at how good this feels. He lets out a satisfied hum and Jens pulls at his shoulder until his head lays on Jens' chest. Lucas melts a little bit when Jens leans down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “All done, baby.”
This time, Lucas is pretty sure it's Robbe who does the retching sound but right now Lucas couldn't care less, soaking up Jens' warmth emanating from his chest. He lingers for a few seconds until he sits up again and turns around to face Jens. “Your turn.”
Jens hands him the sunscreen and turns around, but not before he pressed a quick kiss to Lucas' lips. Lucas pours some lotion on his fingers and his hands are only shaking a little bit when he sets them on Jens' back. His skin is warm from the sun and his beautiful complexion already sun kissed from the previous days at the beach. Lucas spreads the sun screen on Jens' back, hyper aware of every bit of skin he touches, unbelievably happy that he gets to do this now. Jens leans back into him as soon as he starts massaging his shoulders and he hears him letting out a contented hum.
When Lucas is done he circles his arms around Jens neck and torso, his hands settling over his stomach and pulls him into his chest.  Lucas presses a kiss behind Jens' ear and whispers: “Lets go for a swim.” His lips move against the shell of Jens' ear and Lucas can feel Jens shudder at his touch. He absolutely does not preen at that.
They get up, turn towards the others and Jens announces: “We're going for a swim.” His voice is final making it clear that he doesn't want the others to come with them. But because his friends are idiots Aaron gets up and says: “I'll come with.” Surprisingly, it is Moyo who pulls him back down again and tells him to let them be. He sends him a thankful smile and when he lets his eyes wander to Robbe and Sander, he has to roll his eyes again. Sander sends him wiggling eyebrows again and Robbe wears that smile again that knows entirely too much.
Jens doesn't say a word, just takes Lucas' hand and leads them down to the shore. The water is pleasantly cold, the perfect temperature to cool off. Lucas should've expected it but he's still shocked when Jens splashes water at him. He jerks at the sudden cold water hitting his warm skin and turns around to glare at Jens, who looks entirely too pleased with himself. “Oh, you're going down, Stoffels.”
Jens lets out a laugh and Lucas' heart clenches at the sight, still finding it surreal that Jens chose him. He takes a step towards Jens, crouches down and splashes him in return before he can let his sappy thoughts continue. They have a little water fight until Lucas leads them into deeper waters planing on dumping Jens under water when they're deep enough. Lucas jumps on Jens' back and pushes him down so his head is underwater. He didn't think this through though, because Jens grabs his arm and pulls Lucas under water with him. Lucas lets out a surprised yelp before his head is submerged and he sputters when he emerges again. Jens is already in front of him, they're not as far out to not be able to stand anymore, and pulls his wet hair away from his forehead, laughing at Lucas. Jens gets his hand on Lucas' waist under water and pulls him into his chest. Lucas heartbeat picks up speed as Jens hands play along his back, fingertips moving in caressing circles.
“Rude,” says Lucas but it comes out breathless with Jens so impossibly close to him. Jens laughs at that, his eyes soft and amused as he replies: “You started it. I'm taller than you, did you expect to win?”
“Yes,” Lucas says stubbornly, but it comes out wobbly, voice still a little breathless. Jens laughs again, incredibly fond and he leans down to press his forehead against Lucas'. “You are so cute.”
“Jens, please just kiss me, already.”
Another chuckle from his boyfriend and then he is finally leaning down to connect their mouth. The kiss tastes like salt and summer and sun screen and maybe that shouldn't be good but Lucas clings tightly to Jens, threads his fingers through his wet hair and pulls him closer. When they pull apart its Jens who's breathless. “I love you so much.” And Lucas savors it, revels in the warmth spreading through him and something inside his soul settles when he meets Jens' eyes, full of love and so sure of him. Lucas doesn't say it back. He moves his fingertips over Jens' eyebrows, down his nose and his cheekbones, collecting droplets of water. His fingers reach Jens' mouth and he gently swipes his thumb over his bottom lip before he pulls him into a kiss again.
Lucas doesn't say it back. But he thinks Jens understands him anyway.
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pterodactylterrace · 3 years
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Guys Like You Chapter 8
Title: Guys Like You
Chapter: 8
Chapter Summary: It’s just 2.5K words of smut.
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Smut. That’s really all this chapter is.
{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7}
The tension between the two was almost tangible the next week and a half on set. One would catch the other staring and respond with a suggestive smile. They would stand just a little too close during breaks. Stolen glances and gentle touches ran rampant, both waiting for their next opportunity alone together.
Therein lies their greatest problem. Being alone together. You see, their lack of sealing the deal wasn't a matter of effort on both their parts. Henry had Faye come back a few days later, willing to forgo his early morning exercise if it meant spending the night doing 'cardio'. As it turned out, Briar was still terrified sleeping in a room by herself in the strange house. They had tried letting Kal stay with her, hoping to kill two birds with one stone and stop the canine's constant wines from the other side of the door. Using that technique, they made it just to Henry with his shirt off and his hand down the front of Faye's shorts before being interrupted again. This time both Kal and Briar were outside the door begging to be let in.
The look of desperate exasperation on his face was a memorable one. That night ended with Briar and Kal squeezed between them, but sleeping peacefully at least.
A few days after that had been their next attempt. Lesson learned, this one took place at Faye's home. Now Briar had her own room to stay in, so that should be one distraction eliminated. Kal had a full bowl of kibble and water set out in the kitchen and his bed was placed in the small living room between the couch and the coffee table. Unfortunately, Henry had just wrapped up a physically demanding day on set and ended up snoring on the couch with Briar sleeping on his chest by 7 pm. Faye had felt too bad for the poor guy to wake him up for more exertion, plus Briar would likely throw a fit if she were moved now. Instead, she threw a blanket over the pair and retreated to her room alone.
Tonight, though. Tonight was going to be the night. They had the location worked out for the fewest distractions, and it was even a short day for Henry. This was finally going to happen. The pair tried to be discreet throughout the day but ultimately found it hard to keep their hands to themselves. Well, Henry did anyway. It seemed he was sneaking handfuls of her bottom every chance he got. She would turn to grab something off the makeup table behind her and feel a hand on her backside while he casually pretended to just be trying to look around her to see what she was doing. He would slide behind often her and run his palm across her ass as he went, giving her a cheeky pinch as he went. Finally, when it was time for Faye to head home for the day, Henry wrapped her in a bear hug, one hand on her lower back, the other firmly gripping her backside as he lifted her up, whispering promises to get out of his costume quickly to meet up with her at her home.
Now, here they were, the door to the bedroom barely closed before Faye was pressing Henry back against it, her arms around his neck as she tugged him in for a longing kiss. His hands found her hips, pulling her closer, more than happy to return her affections. This was happening. This was really happening and Faye was wasting no time. She practically ripped Henry's shirt off in her haste, greedy little hands mapping over every inch of exposed skin she could reach while Henry worked on his belt.
Faye's shirt was next, her bra being hastily removed after. Henry shoved his jeans down his legs, kicking them from his feet and pulling Faye back in for another hungry kiss, large insatiable hands gripping her ass and lifting her up with ease, her legs automatically winding around his waist.
"Lock the door." Faye panted against his lips, her fingers sliding into his curls as she squeezed his waist tighter with her legs, trying to gain some friction against her heated core. Henry reached behind him, blindly grasping for the handle, finally finding it and turning the lock.
He carried her to the bed, gently laying her on the blankets, slowly moving back to take her in again. "I'm never going to get tired of seeing you like this." He breathed, his fingers ghosting down her sides and hooking in her leggings, dragging them and her underwear down her legs reverently, groaning softly when he saw his glistening prize.
"Condom." Faye instructed, crawling back to the pillows and rummaging through her side table drawer.
Henry chased her up the bed, attacking her side and hip with playful kisses and nips, pulling back when she handed him the foil-wrapped protection. "Fuck." Henry groaned, his face falling in distress when he looked at what was in his hand.
"What?" Faye asked, tilting her head questioningly.
"Do you... have anything else?" Henry asked, sitting back on his heels, turning hopeful eyes up to her.
"No... why, are you allergic?"
"No, it's not that. It's just... too small." Henry sighed, a faint flush coloring his cheekbones.
"Too small?" Faye asked skeptically, sitting herself up on her elbows. Typical excuse.
"I'll use it, it's not that big of a deal, I can get it on, but it's more likely to break," Henry explained, looking despondently at the packet in his hand. "Also... don't be offended if I don't finish. I swear, it's not that I don't find you insanely attractive, but these squeeze me really tightly and I can't feel much when I use them."
"Henry..." Faye started, giving him an unbelieving look.
"I am not trying to get out of using protection. I'm responsible, I promise! I got checked for everything at my last annual check-up and I'm clean. I'm just telling you what can happen."
"What exactly are you working with?" Faye asked, sitting up and hooking her fingers in the waistband of his underwear, Henry leaning back to allow better access as she quickly pulled them down, grunting softly when his erection thumped against his lower stomach. "Oh shit." Faye swore, her eyes going wide when she took him in. She'd had a feeling he was 'gifted' from the times she had felt him through his clothes, but she had no idea exactly how 'gifted' he was.
"Are you ok?" Henry questioned after a beat, shifting uncomfortably under her intense gaze.
"That's... fuck. Yeah, we're going to have to take this slow. That thing is huge. Jesus... is that your dick or a third leg?"
"I wasn't being a prick when I said it was too small." Henry chuckled nervously. "Are you on the pill?"
"No, I tried a few different ones when I was younger but I always had horrible side effects." Faye admitted, a curious hand sliding along his shaft pulling a deep content sigh from deep within his chest. She'd never been with an uncut man before.
"Fuck." Henry groaned, his hips twitching into her touch. "I could... shit, just like that." He gasped when her thumb gently slid back his foreskin, circling the hypersensitive spot just beneath the crown. "Fuck... " Henry trailed off, his eyes falling closed as he allowed himself to just feel.
"How good is your pull out game?" Faye questioned, her other hand gently cupping his balls, massaging them the best she could in her tiny palm.
"No misfires." Henry chuckled, hope sparking in his belly. "Not to kill the mood, but are you... like... fertile right now?" Henry asked, gesturing vaguely to her lower stomach.
"It's a crap shoot, honestly. Never been regular, I have no way of knowing."
"Fuck." Henry groaned.
"Not that I don't think you're a great guy, but I don't know if I'm willing to risk being a single mother of two." Faye mumbled softly, continuing to work him with her hand.
"I don't plan on going anywhere." Henry scoffed, pulling her closer to claim her lips. "But I won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable. How about you sit on my face and we take it from there?"
"I thought you were joking about that." Faye squeaked, her eyes going wide.
"No, I'd love to have that pretty pussy riding my jaw." Henry whispered against her lips, slowly trailing down to her neck with playful kisses. "Have you screaming my name from on top of me." A gentle nip at the junction of her neck, causing her to gasp. "Using that amazing ass to pull you even closer." He descended lower, teasing her nipple with his lips, his tongue darting out to flick against it. "What do you say, beautiful?"
"I... fuck... what about you?"
"Worry about that later." Henry dismissed, rolling onto his back next to her, his greedy hands dragging her thigh over him to straddle his chest. "Right now, I'm hungry."
"Shit." Faye gasped as his hands gripped her ass, dragging her up to hover over his mouth, being met almost instantly by his impatient mouth on her heated core. He licked slow, deliberate stripes through her glistening folds, catching every drop of arousal he could before he began his assault on her sensitive bundle of nerves. The gasps and moans falling freely from her mouth spurred him on. He pulled her even closer with his hands on her ass, wrapping his lips around her clit and sucking it desperately.
Faye was vaguely aware of one of his hands leaving her backside, but only became fully aware of what it was doing through her lust filled haze when she felt a long thick finger slowly pressing inside of her, curling at just the right moment to press against the most sensitive spot inside of her. "Fuck! Henry!" Faye groaned, torn between chasing his mouth or pushing back against his invading finger as he moved it in small teasing wiggles inside of her, just enough to drive her insane with need.
His eyes snapped up to her face when she called his name, a cocky smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as he added a second finger, massaging her inner wall with more purpose. All it took was one firm lick to her clit and a deliberate curl of his fingers for her to come undone, gushing onto his hand and jaw as she panted his name desperately, holding onto the headboard for dear life as she rode out her orgasm.
Henry gently slipped his fingers out, watching her closely as she moved to sit beside him instead, pushing her sweaty strands from her face as she tried to catch her breath. He absently sucked on his still wet fingers as he watched her, waiting to see what her next move would be. Would she be too tired to continue? Would she go back to teasing his shaft until he lost his mind? Might she possibly return the favor?
His ponderings were drawn to an abrupt close when Faye had finally caught her breath. Before he realized what she was doing she was laying between his legs, her lips teasing the head of his cock as her hands rubbed along his inner thighs. Her tongue followed the thick vein on the underside from the base to the tip before taking him into her mouth. She started out slow and modest, his thick shaft already stretching her lips; her jaw had to open impossibly wide to prevent scraping him with her teeth.
Slowly, she sank deeper and deeper, her tongue flicking along the underside, her hands busying themselves with pumping his shaft and cupping his heavy sack. Her cheeks hollowed out as she pulled back, releasing him with a lewd pop. Her hands kept working him as she stared up at him, content to watch him squirm for the moment.
"I've never done this with an uncut guy before." Faye admitted innocently, her eyes falling to his cock as her hand easily slid up and down. "This is certainly easier to do, but you need to tell me what you like."
"You can just... push it back and do what you'd normally do." Henry explained through his panting, his hips jerking up desperately into her touch. It had been so long since he'd had anything other than his fist to get him off, and he could tell he wasn't going to last very long tonight.
"So, just push it back?" Faye repeated, her tiny, agile fingers slowly pushing his foreskin back, watching his face for any sign of discomfort. How far back? Just enough to get it out of the way? All she knew for sure is she didn't want to be rough and end up hurting him, especially in such a sensitive area.
"That's good. You're ok." Henry praised, his fingers sliding through her hair, urging her closer to his twitching cock.
Faye licked along the head, growing more confident at his increasing moans. He was certainly vocal. She took him back into her mouth, her tongue focusing on the tip as her hand worked his shaft again. His hips continued twitching up into her mouth, occasionally pushing too far and causing her to gag. She took him as deep as she could, tears falling from her eyes as she fought her gag reflex. She slowly pulled back, sucking hard as she went, her hand pumping him faster, her head bobbing along with the rhythm.
"Shit." Henry hissed, his head falling back against the pillows, his hands gripping her hair tighter. "Fuck, Faye. I'm close." He warned, his hips twisting beneath her as he fought the urge to thrust up into her warm mouth. "I don't... I don't care where but if you don't want it in your mouth, you need to move." He gasped, the pressure building at the base of his spine until it grew too much to handle. He let go with a loud roar that sounded vaguely like her name, pumping himself up into her mouth with each wave of his orgasm until he was left a blissed-out, sated mess beneath her.
"Sorry... Didn't know if you swallowed." Henry apologized, his hands falling from her hair to cup her jaw.
"Not a problem if I know it's coming." Faye assured, crawling back up the bed to curl into his side.
"Tomorrow, I am going to the nearest pharmacy and buying out their entire stock of condoms." Henry determined, kissing the top of her head.
"Just the XL ones, or are you going to take everything they have?" Faye teased.
"I'm taking everything. If the universe keeps getting between us having sex, no one else should be able to do it either." Henry pouted.
"Pass them out to all your buddies. Be like their Fairy Rubber Mother. Make sure they know they don't fit your massive cock when you do it too." Faye giggled, kissing his chest gently.
"Damn right. If I have to carry this monster around all day, everyone should have to know about it." Henry chuckled around a yawn.
"Get some sleep, Bear. We have to be in early tomorrow."
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howdoyousleep3 · 4 years
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Kinktober, 10/18: In the Kitchen
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Hello yes hi. I wanted to bring this mf back and here he is in all his glory. Shoutout to @maddiewritesstucky​ for hyping me tf uppppppp. Hope you love. 💕
Pairing: Mr. Barber and Male Reader (This is a continuation from my last work on these two, which you can find here or here. The reader is not underage.)  Tags: Intercrural Sex (aka thigh fucking), Kitchen Sex, Secret Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dom/Sub Undertones, Age Difference, Grinding 
“Jacob, you alright going to the store while we finish cleaning up from dinner? You know what I like—mint chocolate chip!”
The words bounce around in his skull like a marble, rolling around aimlessly without sticking any sort of landing, lacking comprehension. His hand stalls under the running faucet, fingers weakening on his grip on a plate, all at the seemingly cheery suggestion Mr. Barber gives his son.
Jacob’s going to leave? Leave him alone with Mr. Barber? His name being spoken rips him from his few seconds of sheer panic.
“What kind of ice cream do you want?”
He doesn’t even remember what he says, doesn’t care. All he can think about is being alone with Mr. Barber for the first time in… weeks? Surely it hasn’t been that long, he thinks, but it has felt more like months, years, and he can barely stand it. He’s never experienced such desperation before, has never been at the mercy of someone else’s touch the way he is with Mr. Barber.
They have done their fair share of exchanging heated glances, of discreet flirting, of frantic handsy makeout sessions. The thought of Mr. Barber’s capable hands on his body, his demanding lips on his own, his voice in his ear; it all never leaves. He’s consumed by the thoughts, by the ghost of lingering touches on his own skin and under his fingertips.
He’s always hard. He finds himself saving his pent-up energy for when he’s jamming his fingers into his mouth in the shower when his fist flies over his dick as he thinks about Mr. Barber fucking him.
“You gonna take it? Yeah you are, gonna show me you can handle it, c’mon—be good for me.”
He feels good when Mr. Barber touches him, feels good when Mr. Barber fucks him. He tries hard not to think about all the bad that he’s doing and tries even harder to not think about how good being bad makes him feel.
His hands tremble as he places the plate he just finished rinsing into the dishwasher. He hears the rattle of keys, the door to the garage shut, feels his chest constrict. He will not, under any circumstances, be the first one to make any sort of move or implication of so. He takes a few forks, rinses them under water that is steaming but that his hands don’t recognize as being hot, places those into the dishwasher as well.
Even when he can sense Mr. Barber behind him, can hear his shaky breathing and feel the goddamn heat of his body, he does not turn around. It’s only until a hand, not his own, reaches forward and turns the faucet off. He doesn’t mean to say it out loud, to lowly whimper out, “Fuck’, but he does just that as he shuffles on his feet. He feels lips on his neck first, but hands quickly follow suit, two large palms that sweep up his torso, squeeze at his pecs.
“Wish I had enough time to fuck you,” Mr. Barber rumbles, wet on his neck as an arm goes taut around his waist, the other hand coming up to cup the front of his throat. So direct, almost abrasive, but it has his sigh turning into a whine of relief. Mr. Barber’s lips are hot on the side of his neck, wet and loud, and in just ten seconds their shared energy is almost chaotic.
“Can fuck me, want it. Miss it,” he breathes as he is pulled away from the sink and he moans when the line of his back gets pulled against Mr. Barber’s front. God, the older man’s cock is already hard against the small of his back, the top of his ass, and he wants. He no longer has to wonder why Mr. Barber put on sweats for the evening; it’s much easier to tease and feel this way. He wants so much his own hand flies back to try and touch, to reach, but he ends up pawing at Mr. Barber’s hip with a wet hand instead.
“Not enough time, not with what I wanna do to you,” Mr. Barber states, teeth tugging at the shell of his ear. He retaliates, doesn’t like that, grinds back into Mr. Barber with a swirl of his hips and a huff.
“You haven’t fucked me in weeks,” he pouts, digging into Mr. Barber’s crotch so that his cock slots right between his ass cheeks, right where they both want him. There’s a low noise, the press of teeth against the hinge of his jaw, the hand around the front of his throat going momentarily and thrillingly tight. Through the sensations, his hips never stop moving. He takes the time to revel in the feeling and brief familiarity of that cock, also takes the time to whimper once more in disappointment of not having it inside of him tonight.
“Yeah? You upset about that?” Mr. Barber asks, a slight tease to his voice. Bastard. Before he can respond, Mr. Barber is pushing him chest-down into the counter, hand tight on the nape of his neck. He hates how good it feels to be in such a position, bent over with a cock heavy on his ass.
“Yes,” he bites out, hands moving to grip the edge of the countertop. He bites his lip to prevent himself from gifting Mr. Barber with any whimper when the older man rolls his hips forward more than a bit suggestively.
“Yeah, show me. Show me what you’ve been thinkin’ about.”
Mr. Barber’s voice is deliciously eager, both hands running down to squeeze at his waist, tight and yummy. He tugs on his hips, implies he moves, and with a heavy exhale, he’s grinding and rolling back into a sturdy torso, a firm cock. He lets himself get a little lost, lets himself feel. He stands up on his tippy toes to make the arch in his back count, making it easier to roll up and down. He mewls between his clenched teeth, wanting more while still trying to savor what he has in this moment.
“There you go, this what you’ve been thinkin’ about? Takin’ me like a champ?”
He is a fool for forgetting that Mr. Barber’s mouth is the filthiest fucking thing within the city limits, maybe beyond. It isn’t like anything he’s ever experienced with anyone else before and it has him agreeing and nodding his head immediately, stupidly.
“Yeah, fuck yeah, please.”
“More,” Mr. Barber demands, hands running up to his shoulders, and oh that bit of force makes his dick throb in his shorts. “Tell me more, get specific. Come on, baby.”
The demand makes his grumble, but the addition of the baby makes him turn his cheek sweetly into the countertop. A squeeze to his shoulders, a pull on them, and he’s melting underneath the hands and touch of Mr. Barber.
“God, fuck. Think about you every night, wake up hard every morning. I… I t-touch myself thinking about you.”
“That’s sweet, do ya now?”
“Mhmm, yeah think… think about you fuckin’ me,” he explains with a flush of his cheeks, and he has no control over the way his voice goes whiney, gets a bit breathless. His breathlessness continues, amplifies, when Mr. Barber’s hands run roughly up his sides to take hold of his neck. He whimpers, mewls, when Mr. Barber takes his turn to roll his hips, to grind in tight to the curve of his ass. When Mr. Barber doesn’t interject, he continues.
“Think about… about how good you felt inside’a me. How… how you felt so good you made me cry.”
The groan Mr. Barber lets out is one that has a heavy presence, is one that he swears he can feel within his own chest. It has the hands forcefully wrapped around his neck scrambling down to his shorts. When they catch the waistband, they tug, pulling his bottoms down his hips and over his ass. When the cooler air hits the heated skin of his backside, he can’t help but gasp.
His gasp turns into a purr of his own when Mr. Barber’s hands squeeze at the meat of his ass.
“Been thinkin’ about you sobbin’ around my cock for weeks,” Mr. Barber mumbles, voice like gravel against his ear, in his belly. He’d cry if Mr. Barber wanted it. He thinks he could cry without forcing it. With another whimper, he nods his head in agreement, in… something. He’s already forgotten.
“Yeah, I’ve been thinkin’ too, thinkin’ about the way that boy cunt looked all stretched around my cock, so hungry. Y’still hungry now, kid?”
With a luxurious stretch of the line of his back, a push of his ass, he’s moaning out, “Yes, sir so hungry.”
His briefs are next, a tug and an almost tear before they’re joining his shorts around his ankle. This move makes a blush rise to his cheeks, makes him whimper a bit in humiliation. His whimper appears to be pointless though, because Mr. Barber’s noise is so appreciative and gluttonous it takes the worries right out of his thoughts.
“There he is, fuck that’s sweet,” Mr. Barber purrs, not wasting precious seconds and immediately pressing his clothed erection tight against the curve of his bare ass. Oh, it feels good, feels so fucking good. The way that cock feels, all warm and solid against the middle of his ass, has him spreading his legs, pressing up onto his toes again to feel.
“Mr. Barber…wanna feel, wanna—”
A sharp hand coming down on his ass cheek has his words dying in his throat. Mr. Barber does it once, twice more, grabs at two palmfuls of his ass, and squeezes roughly.
“Wanna feel what? Wanna feel me?” the older man inquires in a gruff voice and all he can do is nod his head dumbly into the countertop with a whine. Mr. Barber doesn’t give him a chance to answer verbally though, instead exhales heavily himself before a hand leaves his ass for just a moment before—
“That what you wanted? What you fuckin’ missed?”
He thought backing himself and his ass into a cock inside of sweatpants was erotic. He hadn’t yet felt the hot skin of Mr. Barber’s cock smack down onto the top of his ass though. Nothing is better than skin on skin and it makes his own heavy dick twitch where it hangs between his spread legs. Mr. Barber keeps one hand on his waist, tight, the other he uses to slap his cock down onto his ass a few lewd times.
“This what you fuckin’ missed, boy?” Mr. Barber hisses, losing some self-control and guiding the head of his dick between his ass cheeks, pushing it right against his hole. It’s right where he wants Mr. Barber. Energy shifts, franticness takes over. There are the fingers of one hand taut in his hair then, tugging, and with a pained mewl he tips his ass up in response.
“Yes! Yes, sir yes. Fuckin’ missed that… that cock. Missed you!”
“Atta boy, there you go. Show me what we don’t have time for, come on, pretty.”
Pretty makes him shout. Pretty combined with the feeling of Mr. Barber’s fat cock resting against his circling ass makes the fire in his belly burn hotter. If he presses back just right, he can feel Mr. Barber’s balls perfectly, can feel the way they hang hot and push up against the bottom of his ass. He wants them in his mouth.
The more he moves, gyrates, grinds, the more he gets to feel Mr. Barber’s cock on his bottom, his backside. And the more he feels it, the more he grows to want it inside of him. Mr. Barber is behind him purring, making all sorts of rumbly noises in agreement and appreciation, and a moment’s realization of where he is and what he’s doing makes his dick turn achy, makes him hurt for any kind of release.
Everything mounts when Mr. Barber moves, when he leans down over his backside, hand reaching for the decorative container of olive oil in front of them. The pressure of Mr. Barber on his back, draped over his much smaller form, has him gasping. Watching Mr. Barber fumble with the bottle of oil makes his mind go fuzzy.
“Push your thighs together, come on. Tight. Tighter. There we go, that’s it.”
He feels like he’s wading through syrup, that heavy, sticky-sweet sensation he had not forgotten about filtering through his head, down his neck. He makes dull connections in his brain. Yes, olive oil is slick and messy. Yes, his thighs pressed together would make the perfect spot for Mr. Barber to fuck into. No, they still don’t have enough time to properly fuck before Jacob comes back from the store and they have to pretend that this wasn’t happening.
Teeth are the first thing to drag him out of his embarrassingly prematurely fucked-out brain. A dig of them into the nape of his neck, a hand pressing between his legs, Mr. Barber chuckling when his hand comes in contact with his sensitive dick. A burly arm wraps tightly around his waist as the other hand smears oil on the inside of his thighs, wets it up to get fucked.
He feels taken, feels overwhelmed, claimed. He gives Mr. Barber a throaty groan of confirmation as he’s slicked up and prepped to be used. He drags his arms up the counter, gives himself over to the moment entirely. When Mr. Barber presses a sloppy kiss against his cheek and makes space between their bodies to get his hand between them, he whimpers happily.
“Fuck, you must’a missed it. One time and that’s all it took to train this sweet ass, ain’t that right?”
He hadn’t realized he was presenting for Mr. Barber, even given their position.
While the space between them is for Mr. Barber to get a hand on his cock, it isn’t to slip inside of him. But while it isn’t to press inside of him, that doesn’t stop Mr. Barber from indulging himself and nudging the head of his cock against his hole. He almost thinks Mr. Barber is going to do it, is going to press into him without any prep and with this oil only. But with another sigh that turns into a groan, he presses down instead and slips his cock in the slot under his balls, between his thighs.
It’s different, something he isn’t used to, but it’s delicious nonetheless. To have Mr. Barber so close to where he desperately wants him, all pressed and snug up against his own balls, has him breathless damn near immediately. To feel him on almost every side, slick between his thighs, against the line of his own dick, has incoherent noises spilling from his mouth at the same rate.
“Fuck, that’s good, yeah. Keep yourself tight for me. God, you’re sweet.”
He feels like he’s getting fucked. It sounds like he’s getting fucked, slippery and lewd, the hot length of Mr. Barber’s cock sliding tight against his own achy dick. The most overwhelming part though, is the way Mr. Barber takes control of him, commands him and his body. There’s an arm tight around his waist, locking the two of them together, lips and a beard rubbing against his ear. When he goes to moan again, a bitty mewl, Mr. Barber is huskily shushing him.
“Shh practice, boy. Gotta be quiet. You don’t wanna get caught fuckin’ your best friend’s daddy, do you?”
He won’t last. He chokes on his noise, such a desperate one. Mr. Barber reaches forward and clamps a hand down around his mouth as he continues to messily fuck his cock between his thighs. With the hand around his mouth, his noises are muffled. He can’t stop them, doesn’t try to.
“Don’t want anyone knowin’ about how easy you are either, can’t have them knowin’ I’ve got a little slut on my hands.”
His moan is almost drowned out by the sound of Mr. Barber’s hips smacking up against his backside, by his own growl as he bends his knees and digs in tighter to his bent body. The constant stimulation of his balls and the underside of his dick is making him a bit delirious, is making his breaths hectic behind Mr. Barber’s palm. He thinks he might be able to feel his own spit on his chin.
“Shh, shh gotta practice, baby. For… fuck, for later when I crawl into your bed. Gonna fuck you later, gonna fill this fuckin’ ass up, give it what it wants.”
This time his noise is louder than anything else, a sob behind a hand, his own hands coming to grip at the edge of the counter. He moves with the momentum, finds himself fucking back into Mr. Barber’s body with a whine, wants more. It makes the older man groan, almost a growl, has him scrambling and pulling the hand away from his mouth and reaching for the bottle of oil once more.
“Please, god please, want it, want—”
A sloppy wet hand on his dick has him gasping, has him lurching in a strong grip. Mr. Barber’s grip is persistent, focused. The arm around his waist doesn’t falter, goes tighter to accommodate for his thrashing. Mr. Barber’s mouth runs as his big hand fucks itself over his dick and he’s left panting, holding back his whimpers, as he listens to Mr. Barber tell him all the things he is going to do to him later that night.
“Want your mouth on my cock, want you fuckin’ gaggin’ as I get some fingers in that boy cunt. Yeah? Y’like that? Gonna drag this one out, gonna put you face down just like this. You want me to fuck you face-down? Easier for you to stay quiet, better for me to get balls-deep. Think you can come more than once? Huh? Wanna find out?”
When he comes, he is unable to give Mr. Barber much of a warning. He’s almost certain that his noises give him away, the way his breath hitches and the way he spits out messy words. He shatters under Mr. Barber. There’s no other word to describe how he comes apart. He shakes and shatters and comes as Mr. Barber milks it out of him, tugs on his cock in long pulls.
The older man fucks himself to his own release, adding to the mess between his thighs with a series of guttural groans and a few pumps of his own hands to prolong his pleasure. It almost feels as if a few waves of fiery pleasure in his body are reserved for feeling Mr. Barber’s come land between his thighs, dirtying him up.
He’s a mess. He’s panting and his mind is foggy. Mr. Barber kisses him on the cheek, squeezes at his sides as he sighs. He wants to crumble to the floor and fall asleep there. He’s supposed to be young, spry, but Mr. Barber takes it out of him without even fucking him.
“Gotta get a move-on, kid. Go clean up,” Mr. Barber tells him with a pat on his stomach before a hot set of lips are on his ear. “I’ll dirty you up all over again tonight.”
312 notes · View notes
kwrittink · 3 years
Text
WRONG - COLLAPSE
Pairing: F!Reader x AdoptedBrother!Jungkook
Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut
Warnings: Language, sexual themes (female oral, male oral), explicit description of sexual interactions
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<EXPLOSION
You weren't one to often pay mind to gossip - only when Mou inevitably blurted out the latest news on the office - but the following days to the news about Park JiMin's recent love interest you were trying to be aware of anything, glad and wary of not being recognized yet.
There was no sign of him though, making you wonder if he was upset, and if you should contact him to check on things, but work piled up a little that day so you decided to have a go once you got home.
"Shall we go home?" Kim TaeHyung was, on the other hand, completely at ease with the whole ordeal - or so he looked like - even after you showed him the pictures from Mou's phone. He had even joked that he felt partially guilty about how things turned out to be in the end, all with a soft and reassuring smile while agreeing that, since no one besides close friends knew it was you, everything would be okay in a while.
"Sure, let me just take note of the touch-up for this piece and..." Your chair was turned slowly but firmly as you scribbled in the tablet, thoughts cut short as you felt his presence looming over you. Hesitantly, you glanced up to find a smirking TaeHyung holding the arms of your rolling chair.
"When I say home I mean singular, Y/N." He whispered, eyebrows twitching up suggestively, a move that you've only heard from Mou about since he had been fooling around a bit before you two started hanging - and the girls from the company apparently were really good on profiling people. You had some questions to them. "So I'll ask again: Let's go to one of our homes?"
Your mouth was gaped and you could barely feel your fingers, reacting so obviously to his flirting that made his grin widen in satisfaction as he registered your flustering.
"Hey, you guys leaving- Is everything okay?" Hoseok popped from the other side of the divisor, frowning as he saw the positions you two were in. Apparently no one had told him that you and the TI trainee have been smooching, so the scene might have looked weird.
"Yeah, we were just about to decide where to watch today's game but Y/N's a little indecisive," TaeHyung explained and you tilted your head even more confused, never aware there was a game in the first place.
"Oh that League of Heroes or something of the sort? Never knew you were into that Y/N," As on cue, NamJoon also decided to appear to call you out and that made the friend in front of you back up a little, adopting a slightly more composed posture. It was a fact that NamJoon made him feel intimidated and you kind of liked that. To his inquiry, you only shrugged.
"Legends, you old man," Hobi chuckled, making your best friend roll his eyes at him shortly before he turned back to you with a small wince. "And I would invite myself over too, but I don't really care about the semifinals, actually."
"Shame, we could all do a slumber party at mine's" you tsk, trying to play it off, ignoring the look NamJoon was giving you, for some unknown reason. If he could have fun around, you could too.
After quickly assembling your stuff, you followed TaeHyung to the elevator, both suddenly growing silent as looking at each other and sharing an accomplice smile.
You weren't sure what exactly was entailing you two hanging out at your place and neither how far you wanted to go with him, but all things considered, TaeHyung was something easy and chill in your life, currently. You needed to talk to him about your relationship, though.
As soon as you stepped into the empty elevator - a given since the company managed the working hours to avoid crowding - TaeHyung pulled your elbow, twirling your body around for the second time in that afternoon and pulling you closer, his free hand immediately pressing at the side of your face as he captured your lips in a kiss that almost made your mind shortcut; if you weren't sure before of his intentions while going to your apartment today, now it was perfectly clear by the way his tongue laved on yours, the palm once around your arm inching down your back dangerously.
The machine dinged warning your arrival to the lobby and you detached yourself from him in the quickest - but gentlest - way you could, practically stumbling out the doors as they opened. You were sure that your hair was a mess and your face was flushed, so hurrying out of the company was a must. It's enough the show that the security guards had, you thought to yourself, not even daring to glance at the main desk while pulling a smug TaeHyung behind you.
Didn't take too long to get a car thought, the weekend was near and people were heading home earlier than expected. In a way, you were glad of being able to get home faster and, to give a rest to your wobbling knees. It had been a while feeling like this.
Your love life hasn't been moving since the end of college - since the fateful day when JungKook walked out on you - so you were a little out of practice with all of that. Sure, you weren't blind and had a crush once or twice but nothing serious or that you had made an effort to evolve or pursue. In fact, TaeHyung had been the result of a drunken impulse, for you were so angry at him that day after unconsciously blurting out about your birthday to your clients - the follow up of you inviting them to your social gathering was completely your fault - that it turned you on enough to take the opening he gave you in the kitchen. That maybe had to do with JungKook being at the party as well, you had to admit.
But just a tiny bit.
Engrossed on the scenery outside, you barely noticed when TaeHyung scooted closer to you, taking your hand in his with delicacy.
"Can't help but remember your birthday party," he started softly, the deep baritone of his voice making the butterflies in your stomach flutter. "That kiss... Maybe because that time you kissed me I can't stop thinking about it." The whisper near your ear made you shudder lightly as you turned to stare him in the eye, gaze falling on his lips instead, unable to utter a single word.
He smiled softly at your lack of response, almost shy. "I've been meaning to gather courage and ask you out, but I did this instead, sorry."
"Why you're sorry?"
"Because I decided to cut to the chase instead." The tilt of your head made him snicker, head rolling to the side a little before looking back at your face. "I wanted to treat you to dinner, walk a little before dropping you off your apartment, and maybe be invited in, you know?"
You smiled at him, hand dropping to his thigh. "I don't mind you decided to be direct," you said, glad of how his eyes widened slightly at your discreet move to reciprocate his intentions. The whole thing looked less serious that way, exactly what you needed it to be. "I like it better like this." The muttered phrase was a manner to convey what you wanted to talk about, perhaps later on, when you were more focused on the subject.
"Good," he hummed, his palm meeting the back of your hand again, this time moving it upwards his crotch, offering a feel of the hardening bulge inside his pants. "Because I've been wanting you for a while now." You couldn't help biting your lower lip. Not really a fan of being this bold at public spaces - not that the backseat of the taxi was that exposing but still - yet TaeHyung's lingering stare had the pit of your stomach twisting.
--
It wasn't long before the taxi pulled up to your address and both of you hopped off in the most discreet way you could without looking too hurried, TaeHyung insisting on paying the driver and calm down a bit after riling himself up so much in the backseat - you weren't thinking about the small walk to your door when you just kept gliding your fingers over the strain on his slacks, enjoying the way TaeHyung clenched his jaw -, eyebrow quirking at you when the driver started counting the change.
You felt giddy. Impatient and already slightly damp, really excited for the whole obvious event that was a few meters from happening. In your defense, you had focused so much on being a successful woman and improving your craft that relationships were put aside easily - sure, there was JungKook as a reason too - so the whole thing with TaeHyung felt like a first all over again. That didn't stop you from practically yanking the man out of the car by the hand, handing him your coat and bag to hold over his still glaring boner and hurry to your home.
Since you lived on the first floor, it was a no-brainer to take the stairs once noticing the elevator was on the higher floors, so it was safe to say you were really determined to get under the man you currently guided by the hand through the badly lit stairs. Your keys were even in your hand.  
As you pushed the stairwell door TaeHyung pulled your hand back, pushing your body to the wall beside it and holding your face with his big hands, his body also pressed to yours. "Fuck, I like seeing you like this, so eager and hurried... Do you want to-"
The sound of a throat being cleared interrupted both of you, whole body tensing as you glanced to the side.
"Sorry, seems like I've beaten you to getting home, Miss Y/L/N." The dry tone from none than Jeon JungKook as he stared at you two from the door of your apartment was what made you push TaeHyung away, face heating up with a mix of embarrassment and fury because of course, he'd be the one there to witness that exchange between you and TaeHyung for the second time and dampen your plans to finally get some and pluck him out of your head. Probably.
"What are you doing here?" You blurted out, walking towards his figure, barely noticing how he hid a bag behind himself as he eyed your company trailing behind you. He was dressed casually as he'd just went to his house after his shift, showered, and got his comfiest - but still put together - clothes on with the sole intention of swinging by your house and spending some time with you. Like you'd let him.
"I... JiMin said he'd come here today, didn't he said anything?" As he faced you, body twisting and squaring up a bit and chest a little puffed, you crossed your arms defensively, recognizing the defiant stance that apparently hadn't changed even after all those years, meaning that he was ready to spew some bullshit if you were taking experience in account. I don't know if it's good or bad to still know him like the back of my hand...
"No, he did not, Mr. Jeon. And I don't remember having anything pertinent meeting in my house involving the A.R.M.Y. line-"
"This doesn't have to do with the clothing line Miss Y/L/N, but rather with the tabloids situation you and my business partner are in. He said he wanted to come and talk," you felt TaeHyung tense up when JungKook cut your words, cheeks burning in anger. The man in front of you was furious as well, even if his expression remained stoic. "But apparently I misunderstood the time of arrival."
"Indeed must be a mistake." Your tone was dry, even though a little shaken and you notice the irritated little quirk of his eyebrow, the hard swallow and change of body weight to the other feet.  
"Yeah," he bit the inside of his cheek. "My apologies."
The mutter was barely heard as he started walking out, barely missing your shoulder in his leave.
The mood was completely ruined as you got inside of the apartment and thought you didn't want to be this mad, you appreciated that TaeHyung didn't try to pick things from where they were right away, letting you feel your emotions for a while.
"Do you want anything to drink or eat?" You asked, turning to TaeHyung with a sigh, fingers threading your hair tiredly. He gave you a sympathetic smile before nodding, muttering 'tea' in a small voice that made you smile back.
"Then I'm going to shower while the water heats, okay?" Once again the man nodded, taking your hand and squeezing it reassuringly. "You can make yourself at home, if you want a shower too I've got extra towels and... Maybe NamJoon's change of sweats here too," you hurried to offer, knowing that even though the day was chill, he must be tired as well and in need of refreshment.
"Actually I might take you up on that offer... I feel like a cold shower would do me good right now." And that made your eyes wander down towards his crotch again, the straining not present against the slacks anymore, making you a little bummed. You were really looking forward to this afternoon, but it was understandable that he wasn't in the mood anymore. You chuckled with him and then gave instructions for the guest room, having him follow as you went to get the towels and your friend's sweats - which rarely used them, only when he really needed to spend the night - so he could change into something more comfortable.
Till the moment you two finally sat on the small couch of your living room with your respective cup of green tea - the only type you had available at your house - you had failed to realize how comfortable you felt around TaeHyung, even to a point that you were cuddling some time later while watching some movie on TV. It felt domestic in a way, and it was dangerous. Still, he had an effect on you and that was easy to acknowledge, which made you unsure of your position at the moment.
"Ah, my roommate will be so pissed I'm watching this episode without him," TaeHyung mentioned at one point with a small chuckle, the deep comforting sound rumbling against your ear. You were halfway through an episode of 'Ozark' you've already watched, a little bored and trying to come up with a way to heat things back up. So far you achieved laying your head on his chest for further closure, one of his hands resting on your waist, but nothing else. Like you realized before, it was domestic.
"Oh? We can change it, if you want. Though this feels more like a filler episode, nothing really happens here..." You commented, looking up his face. He tilted his head with a small pout before meeting your gaze, and you smiled at his cuteness. It hurt your pride that he was probably cuter than you but you couldn't care so much at that moment.
"Whatever you want, though. I don't want to bother." At his statement you chuckled, straightening up in your spot and shaking your head. You understood then why he wasn't pushing for anything because he didn't want to annoy you in your house and be kicked out. Cute.
"Hmm," biting your lower lip in ponder, you looked away, fighting a smile. "Whatever I want?" You glanced back at him, mischief laced in your tone. TaeHyung's eyes widened a little before he nodded, suddenly struck by the undertone of the proposition. Good, he was down to whatever, then.
Smile widening, you decided for the bold, straight to the point move you had in your mind - since you taking the first step something TaeHyung mentioned to enjoy earlier -, reaching for his cheek and leaning, observing his reactions. Shoulders relaxed, mouth gaped and eyes dropped to your lips, fluttering close as you finally met his mouth with yours, almost tentatively. It was different from the first time, where you had initiated it by pure frustration of how things had turned out.
Groaning, TaeHyung then pressed back, hands gripping your waist as he kissed you back with intent, lips molding with yours perfectly. You then moved to straddle him, at first only one of his legs, sliding up his thigh and shuddering as one of his palms slid inside your shirt, caressing up the increasingly hot skin of your back while pulling you even further to his body. The other one wandered down your side, reaching the back of your knee and, with a swift movement he pulled it up, settling it at the other side of his waist and splitting your legs enough that there wasn't any other option but stay settled right on top of the growing bulge of his crotch. You hummed against his mouth, feeling brave enough to shift your hips a little, enough to make him pause the exchange for a second and resume by deepening the kiss with a soft hum, tongue licking at your mouth slowly.
It felt like everything was moving slow, you pulling off the shirt you had just borrowed him, TaeHyung pawing at your body and breathing raggedly as you ground your increasing heat on his hard need, desperately wanting to feel him without all those layers and barriers. When he parted from your lips to mouth at your neck, you were a goner.
"Tae please-" You urged with a gasp as he nipped at your skin, a bruise that would definitely be visible and you'd spend half an hour trying to mask it with makeup the next day, but you didn't pay it any mind at the moment. His hands traveled all the way up under your shirt to take possession of your covered breasts and you took that opportunity to pull out your shirt, throwing it beside you on the couch. He leaned back to look at you, squeezing and pinching at your chest, watching your reactions intently and biting his lower lip, concealing any sound he wanted to make as you circled your lips on top of his, moaning softly at the light tease. "TaeHyung..."
"Yeah?" He dragged out breathlessly, so deep it made you shudder, nipples pebbling. He flicked them and you yelped softly. "Tell me what you want love." The term of endearment made your insides twist, wondering for a moment if he used that with every other girl. "I want you, Tae." And to stress it, you slid your hands down his chest, reaching the straining on his pants, ever so slightly squeezing the outline of his cock. The man's eyes fluttered close at the contact. "I want to feel you."
"Fu- I'm all yours, Y/N. I'll do whatever you want." That response made you smile, feeling him throb under your palm. You leaned, pressing your lips to his in a tender, quick kiss, pulling away while biting his lower lip.
"Then let me hear you, hm?" You instructed, watching as he nodded, at first automatically going to biting the already abused lower lip but settling to licking it, mouth gaping.
Getting to your treat, you latched your mouth to his neck, fingers trailing back up again to caress the planes of his chest, only to draw back down with your nails, not hurtfully, only to tease. TaeHyung gasped deliciously, throwing his head back and exposing his neck even more, so you could also mark him up with a suckle to the sensitive skin, discovering the weak spot at the base of his throat that had him grunting, hips jutting just as you reached the hem of the sweatpants.
Never truly a patient woman, you decided for yanking down pants and underwear, TaeHyung lifting his hips to help you free the raging boner that waved out, thick girth making your mouth water immediately.
But before you could even think of hopping off his thighs, as soon your fingers wrapped lightly around his throbbing cock he took purchase of your ass, dipping both hands under the fabric of the sweatpants to squeeze the flesh almost painfully. You breathed out hard, glancing up to look at the man that already had some strands of hair glued to his damp forehead before your lips were captured into a desperate and almost clumsy kiss, your fingers squeezing the leaking tip of his dick and messing with his focus, a shudder rocking his whole body.
"I'm going crazy already," he panted against your lips, breath hitching as you twisted your wrist, jerking him off with small movements. "You'll drive me insane, Y/N."
You drank up his whispers, biting your lower lip and keeping on with the teasing and TaeHyung's head came to rest on your shoulder, trying to concentrate while pawing at your body as well, lips pressing kisses on your scorching skin in between pleased hums, hands resuming to roam over your partially clothed body.
"Oh my, T-" Your gaps was almost muffled by the groan coming from the man that had decided to take you by surprise and slip his fingers inside your panties, dipping the digits on the overflowing essence that already had ruined your underwear, TaeHyung's sounds so enticing to your ears. He throbbed at the way your back arched and your chest pressed to his face as his kisses lowered, aiming for the pebbled peaks of your nipples. With a free hand, you held onto his shoulder for leverage, aiding the slippery thumb to rub circles on your clit, the other getting back on massaging the tip of his cock almost clumsily.
But you had a clear objective in mind, and when his lips wrapped around one of your nipples you knew that it would be impossible to continue after TaeHyung made you cum. It had been a long while since someone made you climax, and you were already a little tired from the whole ordeal from early on- Let's not even start thinking about how bothered you still were with JungKook.
"Tae, TaeHyung-" You stopped him just as he was about to part your lips and slip a finger inside, the thought of the long digits inserted into your heat making your throat dry with want. You wanted nothing more to have him inside of you soon, but the need to have him on his mouth weighted a little heavier. "I need to suck you off, please."
"Please? Fuck Y/N, I'm the one who's begging you," he breathed out, eyes raking your figure as you slid off his thighs, mimicking your gestures as you yanked off your sweatpants, ruined panties thrown by the couch and you watched in awe as he picked them up, pressing them to his nose. It was a little embarrassing, but at the same time made your insides twist with need as you dropped to your knees.
Once again, glancing at the thick, veiny cock in front of your face, you reminded yourself that it had been quite a while since you've done something of the sort. You'd be lucky if you didn't gag when his tip hit the back of your throat.
Yet, you rested your palms on his thighs, snickering at the jolt it caused TaeHyung, his eyes opening to glance down at you, putting your underwear away. His lips parted mirroring yours, as you lean to lightly press the cushions of your mouth on the feverish member, a hiss being coaxed from him.
With a hum, you then parted your lips wider to fit the engorged head, molding your mouth to press in a circle against it and sinking your head slowly till the 'oh' his mouth was making was out of sight, hollowing your cheeks when he hit the beginning of your throat. TaeHyung breathed out barely holding off a whine, one hand coming to press the back of your head just slightly, the silent urge to go faster completely ignored. You'd enjoy this moment to the max and intended to milk him for all he was worth.
Bobbing your head a few more times, excruciatingly slow to torture him and bring out those delicious gasps and hums he wanted to suppress - but was still keeping his promise about letting them out - you reached out to play with yourself a little, the throbbing of your insides mirroring his, wanting desperately for friction, for attention.
"F- Don't you dare t-touch yourself Y/N," he practically growled as soon as your fingers slid down your stomach, and you returned your hand to wrap around what your mouth couldn't cover of his cock, a surprised hum in response. "You - fuck - cum in my mouth today."
You couldn't help but gasp at such promise, made so firmly that would make your knees wobble, weren't you already on them. So with renewed will you sank your head further on his cock, letting the tip breach past the uvula, the feeling of constriction turning you on even more. Gagging, you still forced to go as further as you could, but your lungs were screaming for air already, all the while trying to see TaeHyung practically trashing at the action, hips jutting upwards in a manner of helping you - or himself - to take him, a string of curses falling from his lips. "I'm not guh-going to last much more, 'm really clo-"
"Cum in my mouth," you breathed in, coming up for air and interrupting his stuttered babbles, watching his eyes widen as you parted your lips, tongue rolling out and pressing against the back of the tip, one hand twisting around his shaft, the other going to softly cradle his balls, causing TaeHyung to groan loudly and fuck your hand with sharp and fast movements. "Give it to me, Tae."
You barely finished speaking when the first ribbon of cum landed on your lips, making you open up again quickly to receive it, tongue poking out to lick at the throbbing head and eyes fluttering shut as some shot near them. TaeHyung came in many spurts, gasping loudly till he breathed out heavily, marking the end of his climax. That was when you wrapped your lips around the sensitive tip, drawing a surprised keen as he was overstimulated just for your own satisfaction. He writhed as you sucked out the last drop of his release, then letting him go with a pop when one hand grasped the back of your head in a desperate, silent pleading.
"You're so gonna get it Y/N," TaeHyung panted out, cupping your face as you slid back up to meet his lips, thumb wiping the sticky streak of cum from your cheek. You hummed, softly pressing your lips to his, his mouth dry from the recent orgasm. "Damn I'm thirsty..." He parted briefly from your lips to smack his, panting out while catching his breath.
"Do you want me to get you some w- Oh!" A surprised gasp left your mouth as he pushed you to lay on the couch hastily, quickly grasping your legs and yanking them open. Your eyes widened as TaeHyung slid to the floor, looking half-mad with lust as he stared at your heat, a shiver running through your spine as the cooled air of his heavy breathing hit your folds. Delicately he exposed you more to his gaze, unconsciously licking his lower lip, yearning.
When he dove, you gasped silently, not even remembering how to make a sound as TaeHyung clamped his lips on the throbbing bundle of nerves, suckling on it with a hum. Electricity ran through your whole body as he popped his lips away and laved at your folds, savoring the overflowing juices that spilled from your core with a hum. Your hips jutted upwards, eyes rolling back as you whined, finally finding your voice in the middle of your pleasure.
TaeHyung chuckled, squeezing the inside of your thighs, and you peeked down.
"Though I'd lost you there for a second," he quipped, the smugness stamped on his face glistening with your essence around his plush lips. You chanced a grin, reaching down to touch his cheek, a small caress that turned into an impatient plead when you ran your fingers through his head, smoothly pushing him back to his task. "Guess you're ready to get wrecked hm?" His voice was deep with lust, the effect of you bossing him around getting to his eyes, which darkened with mischief.
Getting back to his task, this time paced a little slower, he began to play around with your folds, thumbs drawing circles at the inside of your thighs. Your eyes rolled back as TaeHyung licked up your slit, not quite reaching where you expected, only for the tip of his tongue to circle the inner hood of your core. The grip on his hair tightened, coaxing a huffed laugh against your heat that made your hips jolt. You knew it wouldn’t take much more to reach your high, and seemed like TaeHyung did too. And he was making the most of it.
One of his hands slid up to grab at your breast, tweaking the nipple between his fingers, and then you knew you were a goner. Your legs were already quivering when his lips reattached to your needy nerve ending, free-hand pressing two fingers to your slit and gently inserting them in your depths, juices aiding his sliding. He curved the tip of his fingers upwards upon reaching your limit and you heaved. “TaeHyung,” you started, looking down at him, not meeting his eyes as he devoured your core, eyes shut in focus. “You're gonna make me c- fuck!” Barely able to finish your sentence, you threw your head back, white-hot pleasure blinding you and making your limbs tremble. You barely heard TaeHyung's surprised gasp, before a deep chuckle vibrated against your increasingly sensitive folds.
Took you long seconds before you were able to open your eyes again.
“Look, I feel like I’m responsible for this,” TaeHyung’s words confused you a little, as you entered a post-blissed state and began to notice your surroundings again. TaeHyung was still on the floor, head pressed on the inside of one of them as he looked up at you with a smug smile plastered on his soaked face. A moment of ponder went through your mind before you realized that not only his cheeks were wet, but your thighs and couch as well. You had squirted all over him, it seemed.
“Holy shit, I’m so, sorry-” You tried to straighten up, face feeling warm with embarrassment. In the back of your mind, you knew there wasn’t anything wrong with that, but you did feel ashamed to have done that when you only felt relaxed enough to do it alone.
“Why are you apologizing? This is hot as fuck, Y/N. I couldn’t have imagined anything hotter to happen.” His awed admission made you smile, and, mirroring your actions, TaeHyung climbed up your body to press his lips on yours again, his warmth extremely welcome on your still boneless body.
The more he held you closer once again, the more you felt like continuing to the next step towards intercourse, lured by the tang of your taste on his mouth, how TaeHyung had expertly dragged out your climax with only his tongue. You wished to feel more of him, deep inside yourself.
Inside the bag atop your dinner table, a phone rang and vibrated urgently.
“Fuck,” muttered the man once more aroused and ready to finally give you want you needed before parting from your body and rushing to get his phone. You sighed, straightening up on the couch as you watched a very naked TaeHyung rip open his bag and grasp his phone to answer it, pushing his damp hair back. He had barely time to even greet the caller before being cut off and a voice started urgently speaking, so loud you could almost make out what was being said from the other side of the room. He gave you a sad smile, which you returned with yet another sigh.
Looking to the side, you spotted your own device, usually void of messages after work hours, also blinking silently with unseen messages. Maybe something had gone wrong in the company, it was a weird coincidence that both of you were being called. Well, that was the end of the day, you guessed.
“Work as well?” TaeHyung plopped by your side as you turned off your screen after checking the messages. “Somehow the guys managed to crash a site after the scheduled promotion was announced, now I need to go there and fix it, because they’ve supposedly tried everything…” He threw his head back with a groan, closing his eyes.
You chuckled half-heartedly at his actions, bummed but at the same time relieved that he needed to leave. Apparently what JungKook had said about JiMin coming over was true, though he had gotten ahead of his partner in hours.
“Yeah, mine is something Yoongi wants to check, little details he won’t let go - you know the man’s a perfectionist,” you giggled awkwardly, gut sinking for having to tell a lie to TaeHyung about the upcoming matters. Of course, the news that was sent to you would be sent to him as well, since it personally concerned his image, but you didn’t want to have a discussion about the matter at that moment. TaeHyung was supposed to be something easy and chill in your life.
You kept your phone clutched in your hand the whole time until TaeHyung left, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see the worry in your eyes even as he pecked your lips goodbye, before closing the door after himself.
You didn’t even finish breathing out when your phone vibrated again.
[PARK JIMIN]: now that your friend left, may i come in?
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wendystales · 3 years
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Memories - lrh (Chapter Sixteen)
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Memories (also on Wattpad)
Chapter Fifteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Seventeen
Luke pov.
“Do it again.” Ashton asks, staring at me intently.
We were about to leave my house for my surprise party, which I discovered in less than an hour. I was rehearsing a face of surprise so as not to end the surprise, cause I know everyone worked hard for it.
I widen my eyes, breaking into a smile.
“I can't believe you deceived me.” I say with my voice altered by the ‘surprise’.
“Don't say that, it will be very obvious that you know. Says ‘I can't believe you threw a party for me’.” he suggests.
"I can't believe you threw a party for me." I redo the entire acting.
“Yep! Me either. But what doesn't M&Ms ask, that I don't do?” Ash dries the water bottle with a shrug. “I'm just kidding.” he laughs after seeing my face.
“Speaking of her…” I fill my glass with some more wine, since it's too early for us to go. “Something new?” Ashton denies, frustrated too.
“I commented that she was acting weird, but she just changed the conversation and said that she's been busy and that she was nervous about the party.” he sighs. I massage my forehead, annoyed.
"Am I going to have to put her against the wall to get something?" I look at him, not knowing what to do.
“You know this isn't going to work. She's going to run away, you're going to fight, she's going to walk away and you're going to be more annoying than you already are.” I appreciate my friend's attempt to change the mood with provocation, but it has no effect.
"I can't find any reason to give me any sign of what's going on. Was it my fault? I knew I shouldn't have stayed with her that Saturday, I pushed the situation too hard and now she's pulling away, avoiding me-”
“Oh shut up! Don't even start with that.” Irwin raises his voice, cutting mine off. "Marnie isn't like that, she doesn’t do these things. If she wasn't comfortable she was going to talk. You said yourself that she asked you to sleep there. She let you pick her up on Monday and asked you to take her home, even after you dedicated Best Years to her. She didn't run away there, because it was remarkable how much she liked the song. You should pay more attention to the way she looks at you.”
A silly laugh escapes my lips when I see Ashton imitate her looking at me and smiling. My heart warms at the possibility that she is actually falling in love with me, just as I already am with her.
"Luke, if she didn't want to get back together, she wouldn't open up so many gaps and opportunities for you to be together. She must just be confused about the feelings. That's how it looked for the first time. Look, let's analyze her behavior today, after all the stress of the party and then we get stressed.”
I agree with my friend. I'm freaking out over something that shouldn't be very important. Maybe it's all the pressure with finishing the album. The release date is approaching and sure enough, Jim freaking out in my ear for the publicity trip we were supposed to be doing, but we're still going against it due to Marnie's accident.
I don't know how many times I have to tell him I'm not leaving LA yet. This delay wasn't hindering anything, so I don't know why he makes such a point.
“Go, get rid of that dead face and let's enjoy your party.” Ash slaps my shoulder.
We left the house, heading to Jack's house, where the party would be. I've been training my face the entire way, wanting it to be as realistic as possible, even though everyone already suspects that I know.
Even if I didn't know it, the moment I see the street full of cars, I realize that I would find out there. Irwin tells them we're coming and I notice the noise of the music fade away. Discreet.
We entered the house, finding everything quiet and tidy. But when we turn to the kitchen and garden, a lot of people scream in surprise. I take a step back, like I'm really shocked.
"I can't believe you did that." I look at Ash, wanting to see that I did well. But his expression ‘so so’ disappoints me.
“In the car it was better.” he says before walking away and letting people get closer.
I don't know how many people I hugged, but I know the only one I wanted to see was the last one to arrive. I hold my breath, seeing her in a black leather skirt and a transparent black blouse, highlighting her tattoo between her breasts.
I swallow hard, cracking a nervous smile as she approaches with a huge grin, almost jumping into my lap. Unlike yesterday, where I just got a congratulations message, M&Ms hug me, leaving a lingering kiss on my cheek.
“Happy Birthday!” the gleam in her eyes proves to me she's already a little high.
I resist the urge to steal a kiss from her lips, just kissing her cheek back but giving her waist a squeeze, pressing her against my body. She seems to notice my intent, drastically changing her breathing.
"I wanted to talk to you later. If possible.” I say against her ear.
“About?” her eyes sweep me for any clues.
“Surprise.” I reveal, seeing her roll her eyes in agreement.
I watch her walk away with the girls, but she doesn't fully break eye contact with me, looking at me from afar. I let out a breath, realizing it's going to be a long night and another long battle to resist her and the urge to take her to a dark corner.
In the kitchen, where most of the drinks are, I start my work, drinking the alcohol, enjoying the burning sensation that the liquid leaves in my throat. I get distracted with video game conversation and allow my mind to relax with lighter, more relaxed topics.
The party had been going on for a few hours. My head is already light, due to the high alcohol content my body retains. I know I'm laughing at some bullshit Brian is talking about, even though his words don't make any sense in my mind. Maybe I've already had too much to drink and it's better to stop for a while. I don't want to be sick at my own party.
The term vibrates in my mind and I start searching the crowd for the cotton candy hair, worried about her condition. The feeling pulls my head out of the air, sobering me up for a few minutes.
I find her dancing hand in hand with Noah, laughing at the older man's exaggerated steps. I stare at the scene, happy that she is enjoying herself. Unlike at the beginning of the week, Marnie is now upbeat and not acting. Maybe Irwin is right and she was just stressed about the birthday party.
I push my thoughts away, concentrating on yet another beer pong game. I've played more times than I could count and I'm starting to doubt the two arms Jack has won since my last drink.
“Problems.” Michael sings beside me, pointing to the door. Pam walked in smiling excitedly, holding hands with a guy who sure as hell didn't want to be there. It's not possible…
Sobriety hits me like a cannon. All the alcohol and smoke that was in my body is gone and I am able to think clearly for the first time since I arrived.
I massage my forehead, bringing my gaze to Marnie, who's already staring at Pam without a specific expression. I cross the room with incredible ease, reaching for her, hugging her waist, pulling her to me.
“We can talk now?” Marnie didn't even seem to hear me, still staring at Pam, who was greeting some people. "M&Ms?" I call closer to her ear, but no effect. “Hey!” I drop a kiss to her temple, squeezing her waist.
Her green eyes cross mine and I can palpate the insecurity in them. Marnie just nodded, letting me lead her out of the room. We went up to a room, being alone. I look at her face, still half lost, and I approach slowly, feeling that little box weigh tons in my pocket.
“What do you want to talk about?” she gives a slight smile, turning her full attention to me.
“First I wanted to apologize for Pam. I didn't know what she was going to come.” Marnie rolls her eyes, shrugging.
“It’s OK! No need to apologize. My head is so full I don't even care about her anymore.” she sits up in bed, crossing her legs.
“And I believe she won't even mind us today, after all, she came with someone” I sat beside her.
“Yeah! Poor guy.” I let out a laugh at her pity for the poor boy. “It was just that?”
I lose myself in her eyes for a few seconds, wondering if that's all. I draw her face in my mind once more, recording every feature I fell in love with. My lips tingle as I landed my eyes on her mouth, slightly reddened by the drink.
At another time, right now she and I would be locked in some bathroom or bedroom, succumbing to desire and the alcohol in our blood. My fingertips ache amidst the memories of all the times I have run across her skin, feeling it burn under my touch.
My mind starts to cloud and the flashes of the two of us become more and more vivid. I try to push those thoughts away, but they seem to sink into my mind with force. My body heats up with every scene my mind plays. I feel the blood running the wrong way and I don't know how to stop it.
"Luke?" I'm startled by your touch on my hand. Marnie was looking at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Are you okay?” I watch her hand squeeze mine, like she always did when I was angry or upset.
And just with that touch, everything stops inside me. The fire is gone and now I'm seized by a gigantic pain and rage in my chest, a rage for her being ripped from me so abruptly. I stare at her fingers moving gently, transmitting a caress throughout my body.
"Luke?" now she was looking at me extremely worried.
“Sorry. I think the drink hit.” I open a smile, trying to calm her down. M&Ms don't seem to buy much, but she smiles smugly.
“I already told you you're drinking a lot. In a little while you'll be passed out and won't even enjoy your own birthday party.” my smile widens in the midst of her care. "Don't give me that smile." she pushes my face away. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"
“No!” this time I answer faster. “Actually, I wanted to give you something.” I fish the little white box in my pocket, feeling my fingers as soft as jelly. What if she doesn't like it? What if she gets angry?
“You know it's your birthday, right? You're the one who should get presents, not give. Especially for me.” she looks at me angrily, not wanting to accept the box.
"Well, it's my birthday and I'll do what I want, in which case I give it to you." I place the object in her hands. “I wanted to wait until your birthday, but it's still far away and I can't take it.” I lift my shoulders quickly, making her laugh.
Taking advantage of the fact that she was involved with the present, slowly, I move closer to her body, contenting myself with the least contact we have. I notice Marnie hold her breath at the sight of the blue quartz necklace, just like the one she had.
With no more reaction than that, I start to convince myself that I've fucked up and she hated it. It wasn't the time yet, as much as everything was going well, it wasn't the time yet.
“I can't believe you did this.” her voice comes out in a breath in surprise. I let my mind race to our first Christmas, where she gave me my necklace and I gave that star to her.
“If you don't like it…” my voice trails off as I see her eyes watery and filled with joy. It was the right time.
I'm not afraid to advance towards her, covering your lips with mine in a short kiss. The cherry taste becomes my favorite for the rest of the night. Marnie wipes her tears as she calls herself pathetic for crying.
"I know we used it as a dating ring, but it doesn't have to be-”
"Could you put it on for me?" she interrupts me, not caring about my fear. With my hands still trembling and cold, I close the necklace around her neck, enjoying the scene of her smiling enchanted by that stone. “Thanks!”
This time it is she who steps forward, stealing a kiss. The mood changes drastically. The screams outside seem to die in my ears, leaving only silence. The music that used to burst had ceased to exist.
That little kiss breaks, but she doesn't pull away, keeping her forehead still glued to mine. I'm startled when her eyes return to mine, I can see her perfectly there, in front of me, in my arms. I recognize that glow, that look and what it wanted to convey.
It was her there. The reason I get up every morning. The reason that makes me want to be better and better. The person I always want to impress. My girl. My Marnie.
I bring my hand to the back of her neck, bringing our lips together once more. I feel goose bumps as our tongues touch and her hand cups my face, holding me there. If she knew the last thing I want is to run away…
I'm surprised I feel despair on her side. The urgency on her lips. The need for the touch of her hands, the way they ran through my hair, the back of my neck and chest.
Easily, I pull her onto my lap, moaning, feeling her body against mine after so long. The fire that had previously ceased inside me, runs again through my veins, making everything too cloudy. I can't reason whether this was right or not. We both drink too much. She still hasn't given me full openness to so much attitude, even though she's still here, kissing me.
I try for a few minutes to clear my mind, to be a little rational and not get carried away by emotion, but the sound her mouth makes when I touch her neck with my lips ruins whatever train of thought I was building.
I touch the exact spots that make her moan and scramble for more friction. I watch thirstily as her eyes roll back and her lip is bitten in an attempt to control the moans. Her nails scratch the back of my neck, releasing an electric current that migrates between my legs.
I gasp when I feel her rub against my groin, spreading a current throughout my body. I want to beg her to do it again, but it's not really necessary, she knows and she does. So excruciating, but so good. Again I am startled to find that glow that I knew so much. I wonder where this Marnie was all along.
I shove my hand inside her shirt, enjoying her burning skin. I stroke the spot below her bra with my thumb, wanting not to frighten her. I suck the skin under her ear, lapping it with my tongue. My body combusts as she stirs and presses her crotch harder against mine. I cup her breast with enjoyment, hearing her call my name the way I liked it best.
Her desperate hands run inside my jacket, wanting to throw it away. I was ready to help when a heavy knock on the door disrupts our moment.
"What the fuck is it?" anger rips up my throat, causing a very angry scream. So much time to interrupt.
"It's time to cut the cake." I hear Calum's voice and feel like throwing him from the second floor.
“Serious? Stick the cake in your-” two small hands cover my mouth, preventing me from continuing.
“We're on our way, Cal.” Marnie yells louder and breathless.
I watch your body soften, lost and, I fear, even regretful. She is no longer there. She avoids looking at me, perhaps out of shame.
“It was better this way.” her sweet voice comes closer to a whisper.
“Was?” I stare at her, not wanting to accept that I was the only one to feel it. I know I wasn't, because her expression tells me I'm right.
“Was! You know it was.” her tone is still sweet, but her gaze is hard. "I think we'd better go downstairs." she gets up carefully, getting out of bed. I throw my head against my hands, visibly frustrated.
"Go ahead, I need to get both heads in place." I throw my body against the mattress.
“Sorry, Luke.” I can't stand her feeling guilty when she's the biggest victim of all this.
"M&Ms?" I leap out of bed, grabbing her before disappearing through the door. “It's not your fault. I'm the one who lost control, I'm sorry. You didn't give me the opening to attack you like that and I let myself go…” her lips silence me.
“It wasn't anyone's fault, can we do that?” I nod, stealing the last kiss before I let her go. "I'll wait for you downstairs." she announce.
I turn around, heading back to bed, still feeling frustration coursing through my veins.
“Hey!” I turn to see her there, standing in the doorway. My chest races with yearning from the many times I've seen her do the same scene. My ears and heart ache wanting to hear those words that always came next. Those three words that were so beautiful in her mouth. “Thanks for this.” she smiles and leaves.
I stare at the wood, snapping back to reality. I'm such an idiot for thinking she was going to say she loves me. I hide my face, exhausted. I look across the bed, able to see the two of us there, so given to each other.
I replay the scene in my head, tasting her kiss on my lips. Feeling my body tingle, still wanting her touch. The pressure on my pants becomes bigger and more uncomfortable. I need to make this go away. I scramble my mind for many things to calm myself down, but I can't. I can still feel her hands running around the back of my neck and her groin against mine.
"Shit!" I give up, going to the bathroom and locking myself in there. I don't care if I'm late, or what they think. I won't be able to eliminate this with thoughts alone.
I lower my pants and underwear, releasing my already throbbing member. I run my hand over it, making my body vibrate in relief. I let my mind flood with all thoughts and memories with her, feeling my body inflate further.
I increase my speed, being able to feel her touch through my body. I punch the wall, feeling my stomach contract. I rest my forehead against the cool coating, letting out several sighs. Her eyes flash in my mind.
The many times I've seen her face twist in pure orgasm under my touch. That smirk and that vulgar glow she always lets off before pulling me aside. And I always did, like a puppy.
My breathing gets out of control as I reach my orgasm. A wave of relief and lightness overcomes me, along with a wave of guilt. It must have been the 15th time since it all happened.
I can't have her. I can't stand the idea of ​​looking for someone else, even though we are not officially together, so I have to get by with baths and my bare hands, but as a result I feel like the dirtiest human being, as she doesn't even suspect.
I walk down the stairs, not attracting any attention. I find her sitting on the couch, on Leah's lap, laughing at some imitation Ashton was doing. I approach the group, who make no fuss about my delay.
I pick up the bottle of white wine on the coffee table, flipping half the contents. I feel her green eyes burn on me and I don't even have the courage to reciprocate by ignoring her.
“Is everything OK? Sorry if I messed something up.” Hood says next.
“It's OK! In fact, it was better, if you didn't show up, we would have done something stupid.” I say dry.
"Is that why this sour face?" he raises an eyebrow.
"I'm feeling awful for almost bringing her to this and not having the conscience to stop." I reveal a part of the guilt that burns in me.
“Luke, you are not complete strangers. And maybe she really wanted to go further, she just didn't know how. After all, at that moment she was supposed to be your f-”
"I know!" I cut it off, not wanting to hear the rest of the sentence.
For my salvation, someone starts to sing happy birthday and the matter is closed. I open a smile disguising the shit my head was on. Michael puts a little purple hat on my head, blowing a plastic horn, very excited.
The scene makes me laugh, relieving the stress. I watch Leah and Kyleen swing colorful pom poms behind Marnie, who is holding a small cake with several candles.
I look deep into her eyes, noticing her happiness to be there and somehow mine too. After all, she's here, even if she doesn't remember much, she's still here. The accident could have been a lot worse and I could have lost her forever.
I push the damn thoughts away, blowing out the candles and driving everyone crazy. I'm surprised when Marnie leans in, stealing a kiss, not caring that she's in front of everyone. Her rosy cheeks manage to steal a smile far bigger than Michael did.
In the back of the room, I notice Pam with her arms crossed and sulking. I don't know if Marnie did it on purpose, intent on teasing, but something she did, and if Pam is pissed off, we're happy.
The clock was already showing around 5:00 in the morning. I've already fluctuated my alcohol level more times than I can count. While the boys filled me with rum, M&Ms filled me with water and food, afraid I would go into an alcoholic coma or whatever. Of course I took advantage of her concern and all the attention she was giving me.
At some point during the party, Michael took over the DJ's table and there we were, jumping up behind him, singing I Want It That Way at the top of our lungs, with the lost girls trying to do the choreography. That was definitely the best thing about the party, right after my moment with Marnie in the bedroom.
Right after his moment commanding the party's playlist, Clifford decided to climb on the roof to jump into the pool. Something that was already taking a while to happen. What he and no one expected was Marnie yelling at him, worried.
“It's comical, because if it weren't for the amnesia and the lack of alcohol, she would be the one on the roof.” Irwin comments lying beside me, watching the scene of her yelling at Michael, asking him to come down.
“And we called the fire department because she got stuck again.” I shake my head, wanting not to laugh at the memories. “Good times.” I'm toasting my friend, still watching her worriedly behind the older one.
Sitting in the garden, talking to some friends, I watch the girl laughing in a circle with Noah and Calum. She gets up, walking into the house, returning in a few minutes. I watch her come around, stopping behind me.
“Now the one who needs to talk is me.” she whispers in my ear. I don't think twice about taking your hand and heading out of the wheel chat.
I can see a large package in her hands and the idea of ​​being my gift makes me anxious. A little farther away from the mess that remained, she hands me the black box with a gold bow on top. Before opening it, I take a look at her excited smile, letting out a laugh.
I find five rings and three necklaces arranged around the box. I can't hold back the smile, seeing what she's chosen. I know I might look like an idiot for some jewelry, but it's amazing jewelry she picked out.
“You liked?” she bites her lower lip, curious.
“I loved!” I hug your body, thanking her. I know she has no intentions other than to give me a birthday present, but of course I will wear these rings and necklaces with more affection than usual. “Thanks.” I mean, still ecstatic.
Hand in hand, we approached the crowd again, bumping into Kiki, Sophie and Michael.
“We were thinking about going to Michael's house. The party is already boring and I'm hungry.” Kiki comments. I look a little offended at her, after all, that was my birthday party. “Oh! Nothing personal.” she laughs, slapping me on the shoulder.
“What do you think?” I ask the M&Ms, who shrug their shoulders. "Have you talked to the rest?"
“Leah was going to call Noah and Ash, we were going to rescue Calum.”
“OK! We'll get our stuff and meet you at the door.” Marnie agrees and so we disperse.
Still holding hands, we walked back upstairs, looking for her bag. In the kitchen, I grab a bottle of vodka, a tequila, and a whiskey, trying to put everything in my bag, but it doesn't quite work.
“We should take advantage of the gathering and have your liver funeral.” I turn to Marnie who glares at me, seeing three bottles in my arm and me struggling to open one of beer.
Easily, we made our way to the front door, finding Kiki and Sophie. Gradually, everyone arrived and so we left the party, without saying goodbye to anyone.
“Uh, tequila?” Hood comes towards me, hugging the bottle.
Michael's house was the closest and, having drunk too much, we thought we'd better walk.
On the way, we stopped at a bakery, buying a bunch of things to eat. The day was already showing signs of life when we arrived at Mike's house. At the dinner table, we spread out the stolen drinks and food, starting our round table, as well as picking up several board games that Michael kept.
“I wanted to propose a toast to Mr. Luke Hemmings.” Noah draws the toast, making everyone raise their glasses and bottles. “One of the few people worth meeting in this hellish city where you can't trust anyone. The other people are unfortunately not present…”
A shower of paper balls and food flies towards the 20 minutes older twin. I'm surprised when I watch Marnie leave my arms, standing up.
“I also wanted to give a speech.”
“You didn't have to, babe.” I say, shaking her hand that still had our fingers intertwined.
“It's not about you.” she sticks out her tongue, causing everyone to scream.
“Ouch!” I put my hand to my chest, accepting the blow and still feeling my heart race.
“Shut up.” she screams, laughing. “Well, I wanted to make this toast in thanks to all of you. I know it's been three years of friendship, but for me it's only been a month and even with all the confusion and breakup.” her fingers squeeze mine and I move them, giving them a light caress. “You still took me in and took great care of me. I am eternally grateful for that. Leah doesn't even start crying, I need to get this over with and if I cry it's going to go wrong.” the mood breaks a little with the laughter. “Bottom line, I just want to say that whatever the future holds, I like you all a lot and that this isn't just a bunch of crazy friendship the universe threw at me, it's the family I've been looking for. As Noah said, you're the few people worth living in this hell of a city and I love you all so much. Cheers!”
Everyone raises their glasses once more, toasting her speech. I cross my gaze with Leah, who has also noticed something odd. She still hadn't commented on Monday's episode and I still had it hanging around in my mind.
It was very visible that something was troubling her. Her eyes wandering lost, her disappearance since Monday until today, claiming to be super busy and out of time. Everyone was sensing that something was wrong, but she wouldn't let go or comment on it.
“Especially you.” I focus my attention on her, who settles back into my arms. “Regardless of our future, I like you very much.” she whispers, before pressing her lips to mine. “Please never forget that. Promise?”
I get lost in her eyes, noticing a hint of fear and pain in them. It's horrible to see her like this and not know what to do. For nothing in this world I want her to feel unprotected or alone, she said herself that we are a family, so she wouldn't have to face anything alone.
“Only if you promise me you'll tell me what's going on.” I play hard, not caring if this becomes an issue between us, or if it pushes her away a little.
“Luke…” my name comes out in a painful sigh.
"Marnie." I say her name harshly, wanting her to understand that I won't change my mind.
“I'll tell. Just not today. Today is your day and that's what matters to me. So please let's enjoy?” she begs. As always, I surrender, nodding. I drop a kiss to her forehead, before pulling her to my chest again.
Hastings still looks at me suspiciously and unfortunately I only have reason to agree with her. Something was up with Marnie and she didn't want to tell us.
A minute of silence, our baby is turning 25 today and I am not knowing how to handle it.
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