#with the help of best friend she help me get him!!!
Text
brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)
in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.
word count: 3k
content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I’m really not.”
“No, but you are.”
“It would be for work and work only—”
“I don’t care.”
Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life.
“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”
Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides.
“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.
They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship.
The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom.
A mean one, at that.
So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.
“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”
Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak.
“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”
Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.
“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”
“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”
She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest.
“Fine. Read me the question.”
A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox.
“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”
Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.
“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard.
“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”
She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”
“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”
“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”
“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”
Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.
“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”
She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.
“Well, what works for you?”
She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.
“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”
“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches.
He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences.
“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”
She nods.
“Withgoing underwear in public?”
“Mhm.”
“Pussy spanking?”
“Yeah.”
“Nipple wax play?”
“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”
“Paddling?”
“I actually haven’t done that one before.”
Harry’s eyebrows raise.
“No?”
She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”
“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”
“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”
“Is it?”
She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now.
But she doesn’t.
Not for a second.
So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.
“Do you want to try it now?”
By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.
“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”
Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.
“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”
She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.
“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.
“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”
Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.
“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”
Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.
“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”
But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”
In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.
“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.”
The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed.
“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”
“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”
“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”
“‘m not—”
Smack—
“You are.”
She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.
“On your belly.”
This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck.
“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.
“Green, sir.”
“Do you still want to try the paddle?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”
“Red or licorice, sir.”
“Good girl.”
Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.
The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.
“How was that?” he asks.
“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”
A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled.
“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”
When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank.
“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”
Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion.
“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”
Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.
“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”
Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression.
“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”
And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.
He rolls his eyes.
“You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?”
She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.
“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”
“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”
“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And now you want to cum.”
“Yes, sir.”
“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”
She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention.
She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly.
“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”
She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.
“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”
She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit.
“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”
“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”
“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”
“Y-yes, sir—”
“Ask for permission first, kitty.”
“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”
She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.
“Hold it.”
“Sir—”
“Hold it, brat.”
Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.
It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze.
He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his.
“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear.
Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”
He swallows.
He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.
And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.
Six, if she’s lucky.
#writing#harry styles#bffrry#harry styles writing#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles imagine#harry styles smut#harry styles fic#harry styles filth#harry styles blurb#harry styles fluff#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fan fiction#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles smutty fanfic#harry's house#hs4#harry's house album#fine line#one direction#harry styles fic rec#harry styles angst#harry styles drabble
935 notes
·
View notes
Text
„OH MY GOD THAT’S JOOST KLEIN!”
(pt.1?????)
Pairing - Joost Klein x Fem!reader
Summary - As you and your little sister walk home, you notice a commotion near a car where a group of people is shouting excitedly. Your sister catches the name of a famous singer and eagerly wants his autograph. However, Joost seems more intrigued by you and proposes a compromise.
Genre - Fluff
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
"Thank you very much,” I heard my sister express while embracing me. We were presently walking home; the evening was approaching, and we still had quite a lengthy distance to my flat. Several months back, I turned 22 and purchased a lovely apartment and moved out from my parents. My sister recently turned 16, so I invited her to my flat for the weekend, to go shopping, and then enjoy a delightful dinner as a gift. We were discussing the time my sister prefers to depart tomorrow because the journey to my parents' home is rather lengthy. Suddenly, we heard a cluster of individuals shouting and congregating near a rather luxurious car.
"What is happening back there?" my sister asked, wanting to go and see, but I grabbed her arm. "Let’s just go," I said while pulling her.
“JOOST CAN I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH?!” “JOOST KLEIN PLEASE SIGN THIS!” “SMILE JOOST I’M MAKING A BEREAL!!!”
"Wait, was that Joost Klein?!" In a matter of seconds, my sister was by the car, fangirling like the rest of the group.
"Lorelei, let's just head back, I'm exhausted," I expressed, pulling on her jumper. The surroundings began to darken, and I had forgotten to bring a coat or a hoodie, assuming we'd return home early, but the chill was intensifying by the minute. I started to rub my hands together to generate some warmth. Lorelei continued to call out for the Dutch man who was sitting in his car, disregarding my words. I let out a sigh and decided to wait for her to meet Joost before we could head home. As time passed, the crowd dwindled, with many leaving, yet a few lingered. Eventually, it was Lorelei's turn, and she seized my wrist, pulling me along for moral support.
"HI JOOST, I’M SUCH A BIG FAN!" my little sister exclaimed. Joost chuckled at her excitement until his friend nudged him and pointed directly at me.
“Ey zij is echt mooi! (Ey she’s really beautiful!)” His friend grinned at me. I felt puzzled, so I returned the smile. Joost gazed at me, and we locked eyes for a moment before he looked away.
“Inderdaad. (Indeed.)” Joost said while nodding to his friend and then turning back to me.
"Feeling chilly?" the blond guy inquired, swinging open his car door and walking towards me. As he towered over me, he took a cigarette from his pocket and ignited it. He took a drag, glanced away, removed the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled the smoke. Then, he locked eyes with me, placed the cigarette back between his lips, and waited for a reply. I was at a loss for words. In the background, I caught my sister's amused chuckle, and I noticed a few onlookers capturing this moment on film.
“I’m not cold.” I say looking away. Joost didn’t hesitate to grab my hand.
"False. Your nose is pink and your hands are chilly. And I saw you rubbing your hands and attempting to heat yourself up," the blond man remarked as his strong Dutch accent was evident. He chuckled, unzipping and removing his coat, then passing it to me.
"I-I can't accept that," I stammered, motioning for him to put his jacket back on, but he remained still. My sister gently nudged me, signaling to take the jacket. I glanced at her, seeing her thumbs up, and suddenly, it felt like I was back in high school chatting with my crush and getting support from my best friend. Joost nodded for me to accept his jacket. After a moment of hesitation, I finally took it. He blew the smoke in another direction, placed the cigarette back between his lips, and helped me zip up my jacket. The scent of his expensive cologne filled my lungs. He turned to my sister with a smile clapping his hands together.
“Sooo… You wanted a picture and an autograph?”He inquired of her, and she enthusiastically nodded. He strolled back to his vehicle while his friends chuckled. He retrieved a sheet of paper and a pen, passing them to my sister.
“Can you write your sister her phone number?” He said gazing at me, giving me a wink as I averted my gaze sensing that my face would blush a light shade of pink. My sibling didn't even pause. She penned down the phone digits and aimed to pass it over but halted him.
"I want a hug too," she utters, and he chuckles.
"Let’s compromise, will you write her name and surname for a hug?" He said pointing at me, as I could hear his friends laugh, and I buried my face in my hands due to embarrassment. I could also sense the excitement among Joost's supporters who were laughing heartily.
"Of course! Her name is Y/n!" She mentioned writing something down and passing the paper and pen to him without any delay to offer her a significant, extended embrace. I caught her whispering something, and he burst into loud laughter. I simply grinned, relishing the sight of my sister's joy. Joost murmured something in return, and Lorelei stepped back and approached me. She began to quietly murmur something in my ear.
“No way-.” I said backing away and furrowing my brows.
"Please for my birthday!" She pleads, casting me those adorable puppy eyes.
"No Lorelei, that's an excessive request," I utter firmly, feeling utterly exhausted.
"Please." Joost emerged alongside my sister, giving me pleading eyes. I turned my head and exhaled deeply.
"What will you receive in exchange?" I inquire, exhaling and turning towards my sister.
"A meet and greet for an hour after his concert," she says, pleading with me and giving me those puppy eyes. I sigh and walk over to Joost, who's already lowering himself to my height. I glance at my sister, who's holding her phone out, waiting for the perfect photo opportunity. I just shake my head no, and she pouts. Looking at Joost, I notice he's smiling, his cigarette is gone. As I get a closer look, I realize he's actually really handsome. He gives me one last look and winks. I give him a light peck on his cheek, leaving a faint pink mark. The people around us go wild, especially his friends in the car. I glance at my sister, who's snapping a picture. I furrow my brows and turn back to Joost. His expression is gentle, and he's blushing, as am I.
"You smell pleasant." He chuckled, and I playfully hit his shoulder.
"Lorelei, go get the autograph and the image, and let's head back." I express, glancing at Lorelei as if nothing has happened. My sibling nodded, and a short while later, she bid her final farewell. Joost walked towards me, coming closer with outstretched arms for an embrace. I embraced him, then stepped back and started unzipping the coat Joost had given me.
"What are you up to?" He inquires as I glance up at him.
"Returning your coat. I'm warm, and it belongs to you," I mention, but he took my hand halfway and zips it back up.
"Take it, please, I insist." He casts those pleading puppy eyes once more. I exhaled in surrender, feeling weary and not in the mood for a conversation with anyone at the moment.
“Jij bent echt schattig. (You are really cute)” he said and I tilted my head to the side in confusion and he grinned. Embracing me once more and walking back into his car.
“Ik hou van jou! (I love you!)” Lorelei mentions, and Joost chuckles while glancing at the paper my sister handed him earlier.
“Ik hou van Y/n. (I love Y/n.)” He speaks, and my sister shrieks and pinched my arm while I remain confused. I simply grasp my sister's shoulder, and we depart. Glancing back one last time, I notice Joost Klein still gazing at me with a smile. He winks, offers a small wave, and raises his phone, indicating that I should check mine. I acknowledge with a nod, thumbs up, and a wave as we turn the corner..
After a few minutes of silence I heard a phone notification coming from my phone.
“Send me a message once you arrive home safely with your little sister.”
I passed my phone to my little sister so she could check the message, and she burst into screams of excitement once more. After what seemed like an eternity, we arrived at my place. Then, I heard yet another notification, this time from Instagram.
“@joostklein ✓ started following you.”
As we stepped into my apartment, the initial thing Lorelei did was play the track "Buurman Uit Berlijn" by Joost Klein and MCR-T. I strolled into my room and overheard my sister say:
"Y/n, remember to reply to Joost!" I just sighed and took my phone, sending him a brief message saying: "we got back home alright, appreciate the autograph and photo with my sister."
In less than 10 seconds, Joost replied, saying: "I have a lipstick mark on my cheek, thanks for that and the hug. You smell really good. If I were you, I'd check the jackets right pocket. I left a little surprise." With my toothbrush in my mouth, I headed to the living room, picked up the neatly folded jacket, and looked through the pockets. It was a letter that said ‘Y/n’ I opened it and inside were 2 passes for the Eurovision Song Contest… I almost chocked on my toothbrush, quickly grabbed my phone, and messaged Joost: “When did you slip those in!?” I hit send quickly and immediately got a reply: “When we embraced. Give one pass to your sister. I'll cover the flight and hotel, unless you'd like to stay with me in the same hotel room ;)” I knitted my brows in confusion. I hastily texted him: “I'm truly grateful. Goodnight.” And received a swift response: “Slaapzacht schat. (Sleep tight darling.)” I just left him on read going into sleep thinking about the kiss with Joost.
A/n- HELP THIS WAS MY FIRST STORY EVER ON TUMBLR DON’T HATE PLS 😭 HAVE A NICE DAY YA’LL 😊☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️
#JUSTICE FOR JOOST
#x fem!reader#x female reader#x you#x y/n#fluff#joostkleinxreader#justice for joost#stand with joost#joostice#joost#joost klein#compromise#cute#couple#free joost#joost klein x you
452 notes
·
View notes
Text
This Means War
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Synopsis: Peter and his crush on you feel threatened when your childhood best friend Harley Keener comes to visit and clearly harbors feelings for you
Masterlist
“Do you think I’d explode if I drank this?” You asked and swished around the insides of the beaker you were holding. Peter looked up at you through his lab goggled and chuckled.
“I don’t know. You should try it.”
“You say that now but you’d be so sad if I exploded.” You insisted. “You’d have no one to watch Over the Hedge with.”
“Wait, can we watch Over the Hedge tonight?” He pleaded. “I forgot about that movie. I love it so much.”
“I know you do. Which is why you’re gonna be sad and alone watching it tonight and thinking wow, I wish I didn’t let my best friend explode.” You shrugged and put the beaker down.
“Um, excuse you. I would never be best friends with a girl. You have cooties and go to Jupiter to get more stupider.”
“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong.” You chortled. “Because I actually went to college to get more knowledge. It’s boys who went to Jupiter to get more stupider.”
“But if I, as a boy, successfully figured out how to travel to Jupiter, wouldn’t that make me the smarter one? Since I cracked interplanetary travel?”
“I think you should drink this.” You said after a beat of silence and held the beaker up. Peter laughed and you did too. He snuck another glance at you as you combined the contents of two flasks and made a tiny explosion. You often accompanied him in the lab when he was at the Avengers tower despite not being much of a scientist yourself. You just liked to help and watch as he did his thing.
“Thanks for helping me, by the way.” Peter said. “I’m sure you have a million other things you’d rather be doing than helping me develop new kinds of web fluid.”
“I don’t mind.” You shrugged. “If you throw out the words “tornado web”, of course I’m gonna want to help you make that possible. Plus, I like spending time in the lab with you.”
“You do? Because so do I.” He said as a blush covered his face. You looked up from what you were working on and gave him a smile. Peter sucked in a sharp breath and cleared his throat.
“Um, so, I’m just gonna throw this out there and you can tell me how you feel.” Peter began. “I was wondering if maybe sometime you’d want to-“
“Where is she?” Peter was cut off by an unfamiliar voice booming through the lab. You immediately looked up and pulled your goggles down.
“Harley?” You asked, sending a twinge of jealousy down to Peter’s stomach.
“Who?” He asked you. His question was answered by a tall, sandy blonde guy walking into the lab. He wore an oversized corduroy jacket with patches on the elbows that made him look the kind of effortlessly cool Peter could only dream of looking.
“Harley!” You exclaimed and put your beaker down to run to him. Peter watched with furrowed eyebrows as you threw your arms around Harley’s neck and hugged him tightly. Harley wrapped both arms around you and lifted you off the ground as he spun around.
“There’s my girl. I missed you so much.” He said into your ear as he swayed back and forth with you in his arms.
“I missed you too.” You told him as you pulled out of the hug but stayed in his arms. Peter felt like he was about to pass out and maybe even die over the sight in front of him so he cleared his throat to remind you he was there.
“Hi. Sorry, your girl? Who is this guy?” Peter asked you through a forced laugh as he shit daggers at Harley.
“Oh, sorry. Peter, this is Harley Keener. He’s my dad’s friend.” You explained as you slid out of Harley’s embrace but kept an arm around his torso.
“Your dad’s friend? How old is he?” Peter asked.
“He is your age. Feel free to direct any of your questions at me, by the way.” Harley said sarcastically but playfully to Peter.
“Harley, this is Peter. My dad’s other young adult male friend.” You told Harley. Harley held out his hand and Peter shook it as hard as he could while never breaking eye contact with who he had now deemed his competition.
“Right. I’ve heard of you. You’re the one that can shrink down really small, right?” Harley asked while still shaking Peters hand. Peter narrowed his eyes at Harley when he registered the subtle shade and tightened his grip.
“No. That’s Antman. Peter is Spiderman.” You explained. Peter gave you a look that told you to stop talking since you had just revealed his identity.
“It’s okay. We can trust Harley. He’s known everyone’s secret alias’s from before the Avengers were even a thing. He’s not gonna tell anybody.” You assured Peter.
“Yeah, you can trust me. But sorry for the mix up. I just assumed you had shrunk yourself to be that short.” Harley smirked as he stopped shaking Peter’s hand.
“I’m not short.” Peter defended. “I’m the average height of a woman.”
“I bet you are.” Harley snorted. “You said it was Peter, right?”
“Yes. A man’s name. That makes one of us.” Peter mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.
“That’s weird. You’ve never mentioned him, Sands.” Harley said to you as he slung an arm over your shoulders. Peters jaw tightened as his eyes flickered between you and Harley.
“Sands?” Peter asked you.
“Oh, it’s an old nickname from when we were kids that he still insists on using for some reason.” You said and playfully rolled your eyes.
“How cute.” Peter scrunched his nose. “Who doesn’t love nicknames?”
“I’m guessing you do, Spiderman. How did you get your powers anyway? Did you fall into a giant tank of spiders or something?” Harley asked, making you laugh.
“No. No one has a giant tank of spiders just lying around uncovered. I got bitten. And then it got infected. And now I’m really sticky and sensitive to loud noises and don’t need glasses anymore.” Peter stated with zero amusement in his voice.
“Hm. I’m starting to see why you didn’t bring this guy up, Sands.” Harley whispered in your ear but Peter still heard. He gulped and felt his jealousy grow as you leaned into Harley to hear him better.
“I’m sorry, how did you say you two know each other?” Peter asked through another fake laugh.
“My dad befriended Harley when we were kids. He’s a family friend now. He and his mom come over for holidays and family dinner sometimes but I haven’t seen him in a while since his band went on tour.”
Peter fought the urge to laugh at him being in a band but didn’t when he remembered that you had a thing for band guys. He looked Harley up and down and had to admit that he was your type to a T.
“So you grew up together? Thats great. You must have a real sibling bond now after knowing each other all those years. And you know what they say about siblings.“
“And what do they say about siblings?” Harley asked him with an amused smile.
“Well I didn’t think I’d have to explain why incest is bad to you but I guess I don’t know how you do things down in…wherever you’re from.”
“I’m originally from Tennessee. And you’re right, we do have a special bond. Y/n was my best friend before her dad sent her to fancy private school and she got all pretty and made rich friends.” Harley teased and gave your shoulder a squeeze.
“Hey. We’re still friends.” You insisted.
“Best friends, though?” He asked skeptically. You laughed and looked at Peter, whose expression immediately made you drop your smile. You and Harley were not as close as you used to be and in his absence, you’d grown close to Peter. In that moment, you didn’t really know who you considered your best friend.
“Peter and I were actually just in the middle of making something. You can totally stick around and help but I know you’re not much of a science guy.” You said to change the subject.
“That’s okay. I’m gonna go say hi to your mom and catch up with you later, all right?” Harley asked as he placed a hand on each of your shoulders. He was so touchy with you and to make matters worse, you looked perfectly comfortable with it. Despite you and Peter being close, you were never the type of friends to show physical affection.
“Okay. Thanks for saying hi. We’ll talk later.” You replied.
“We will. Now come on. Bring it in.” Harley smiled and opened his arms to you. Your eyes flicked to Peter again who looked like someone had take his batteries out. You felt inexplicably guilty as you stepped into Harley’s arms for a hug.
“Missed you.” Harley hummed as he rubbed his hand in circles on your back.
“Missed you too.” You said as you stared into Peter’s eyes over Harley’s shoulder. Harley gave your arm a squeeze before leaving the lab, leaving you and Peter in awkward silence for a while.
“What?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.
“You really never mentioned me to him?” Peter asked quietly.
“I have. I definitely told him about the time you got your finger stuck in that park bench.”
“Okay, well that was really traumatic for me so thanks for bringing that up. I’m glad that’s the one thing worth mentioning about me.” Peter grumbled and went back to working on his web fluid.
“Peter, come on.” You groaned. “Don’t be mad at me. I talk about you all the time. He probably just didn’t remember because I usually call you “my friend” when I tell a story about you since he doesn’t know you.”
“Okay. That makes sense. But how come you never mentioned him to me? Did you know want me to know about this other guy best friend or something?”
“I have mentioned him. Remember I told you about the friend I used to play house with? But we’d always fight because we both wanted to be the dog?”
“He definitely looks the part of the dog.” Peter mumbled.
“Hey.” You laughed. “Be nice. He’s my friend.”
“I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little weird that this whole time there was this guy you have whole history with and I didn’t know anything about him until today. I guess I just thought we knew everything about each other.” Peter said without looking you in the eyes.
“You’re right. It is weird. I guess I just never really thought about explicitly telling you about him. He’s just kinda been a passing figure in my stories from my childhood. But you know, you and I have deep history too. So deep that when you and I are together, I’m not thinking about other people I know. I’m only thinking about you and how God damn annoying you are when you ignore my ideas but then magically come up with the exact same one ten minutes later.”
“Because only men are allowed to have good ideas.” Peter laughed now that you had put some of his nerves to rest.
“You’re right. Sorry, sir. I forgot.” You said meekly, making Peter laugh. He was able to relax now that you talked it out but he was still curious.
“So, did you and Harry-“
“Harley.” You corrected.
“Yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “Did you guys ever date or anything?”
You were quiet for a minute which was exactly what Peter was afraid of. It looked like you were thinking of something, a memory that Peter didn’t have access to but desperately wished he did.
“No. We were only ever friends.” You said finally.
“But did you ever like him? Like, like like him?”
“Like like like?” You teased him.
“You’re avoiding the question.” Peter said without sharing in your laughter. You stopped smiling and shrugged a little.
“I don’t know. I’ve known him a really long time. So yeah, I’m sure there were a few times where I wondered if we were meant to be more than friends. But nothing ever happened between us.”
“Oh.” Peter said curtly and nodded his head. You snuck a glance at Peter but he was looking down so you couldn’t tell what his face was doing.
“Why do you ask?” You wondered.
“I’m just curious since I don’t know anything about the alleged childhood best friend of my young adult best friend.”
“Well don’t be. Because there’s nothing to know.”
“You’ve been friends with him since you were kids but there’s nothing to know? How boring is this guy?” Peter snorted and hoped you’d say he was the least interesting person you knew.
“He’s not boring. You remind me of him a lot, actually. You guys are very similar.”
“Does that mean you’ve ever wondered about us?” Peter asked before he could stop himself. You froze and looked up at Peter who was bright red under his goggles.
“Um…” You began. Before you had a chance to finish that thought, the contents of your beaker exploded and webs shot all over your section of the lab table. You jumped in surprise and Peter ran over to you to pull you away from the explosion. He kept you behind his back as he threw a towel over the smoking beaker to snuff it out.
“Maybe that’s enough lab work for the day.” You said as the smoke alarms began to blare. Peter covered his sensitive ears with his hands and you smiled apologetically before putting your hands on top of his to further block out the noise.
“I have, by the way. I have wondered about us.” You admitted as you looked into his eyes.
“What? What about pus?” Peter shouted over the noise. You smiled tightly and shook your head.
“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.”
A few days later, you and Peter were back in the lab to work on some things. Harley was still visiting, much to Peter’s dismay. But nevertheless, he was grateful to have alone time in the lab with you without any interruptions. That is, of course, until you were interrupted.
“Hey, you.” Harley greeted as he walked into the lab in water another oversized jacket that made him look like the love interest in an 80s movie.
“Hey, you.” You smiled in response while Peter discreetly rolled his eyes.
“Hello Peter.” Harley said with a tight smile.
“Hey, Harry.” Peter replied. Harley caught the intentional misnomer but didn’t say anything.
“Woah. Why does it smell like badussy in here?” Harley grimaced as he sniffed the air.
“Stop.” You groaned. “It does not.”
“What’s badussy?” Peter asked.
“Um, butt, dick and pussy. Obviously.” Harley replied as if Peter should have already known that.
“No. Not obviously. I only know what two thirds of those smell like, so.” Peter shrugged.
“You’re telling me you’ve never walked into a humid public bathroom and it smelled like straight up cooch in there?” You asked Peter.
“Um, no.” Peter stated. “I have not. Men’s public bathrooms usually smell like wide open ass. No notes of cooch.”
“He’s right.” Harley agreed. “Especially New York bathrooms. And there’s usually poop or blood or after birth smeared on the walls.”
Peter stifled a laugh and turned his head when he found it harder than he expected. Harley noticed Peter laughing and smirked.
“It’s okay. You can laugh at my jokes.” Harley told him.
“I wasn’t.” Peter lied and held in another laugh.
“You so were. You guys don’t have to sworn enemies, you know. You’re allowed to be friends.” You told them.
“No we can’t.” Harley shook his head.
“He’s right. Shockingly. We can’t.” Peter agreed.
“Why not? You’re like the helvetica and comic sans version of each other.”
“Who’s comic sans?” Peter asked at the same time Harley said, “I call helvetica.”
“See?” You laughed. “You guys are meant to be friends. So get off your high horses and French kiss each other already.”
“We are so not gonna French kiss.” Peter mumbled.
“Yeah. If I’m French kissing anyone in this room, it’s not gonna be him.” Harley replied. His sentence both flirted with you and took a dig at Peter, giving Harley the upper hand once again.
“She doesn’t want to French kiss anyone. She infamously thinks that’s the grossest form of kissing. I’m surprised you don’t know that. I thought you guys were best friends.” Peter tilted his head to the side just to piss Harley off. Harley took the bait and folded his lips in.
“I’m surprised too. When did she tell you that? Did she mention it while you guys were braiding each other’s hair and making foul smelling potions?” Harley asked and swished the contents of the beaker around.
“First of all, they’re not potions because we’re not Minecraft witches.” Peter snapped. “And secondly, we don’t braid each other’s hair. She gave me one braid one time when my barber actually left a long strand of hair and I wanted a tiny padawan braid.”
“You’re telling me this smoking beaker of green fluid isn’t a potion? What the hell even is this? Fuel for a fart gun?” Harley grimaced and put the beaker down. You laughed at Harley’s questions, sending white hot jealousy through Peter’s veins. He could feel you slipped through his fingers and falling right into Harley’s arms.
“No. Because I’m not a character from Despicable Me, it’s not fuel for a fart gun.” Peter replied and snatched the beaker.
“Then what is it? Don’t tell me you made a love potion to get her to fall for you. Because I hate to tell you this, but it’s not gonna work. No matter how many strands of her hair or fingernail clippings you threw in there.”
“Stop teasing him.” You warned. “It’s a not a love potion or a fart gun. We’re trying to make a web fluid that doubles as a stink bomb in case he needs to make a quick escape.”
“Ew. What the hell is web fluid? And where does it come out?” Harley grimaced and looked Peter up and down.
“For a dollar, I’ll show you.” Peter said with a wink.
“Web fluid is one of Peters many inventions. It helps him swing from building to building.” You explained.
“Oh yeah? Why do you have to make it in a lab? Shouldn’t Spiderman be able to produce his own webs?” Harley asked Peter.
“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you be in school or an AA meeting for skinny jeans or something?” Peter shot back, making you laugh.
“How would it be an AA meeting if it’s for skinny jeans? Wouldn’t that make is skinny jeans anonymous?” Harley pulled apart his joke, making Peter clench his jaw.
“Well I don’t attend the meetings so I’m not sure what they’re called.” Peter shrugged and looked away.
“Right, right. Hey, why don’t you tell him what you said about my skinny jeans?” Harley said to you.
“I said nothing.” You mumbled.
“Come on. Tell him what you said.” Harley laughed and poked your side. Peter watched the interaction and clenched his toes in his shoes.
“What did you say?” Peter asked you, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“I said I liked them because they remind me of the frat boy pictures of Harry and Niall from back in the day, okay? Specifically that picture with the yellow hat and white shirt. Is that what you all wanted to hear? Are you both happy now?”
Peter discreetly punched the table out of frustration because he knew exactly what photo you were talking about. He knew because you had shown it to him when teaching him out the epic high and lows of reading One Direction at a formative age.
“Well she once told me that my outfit reminded her of Alex’s hot Italian boyfriend from Wizards of Waverly Place.” Peter replied in an attempt to level the playing field.
“Dean Moriarty.” You gasped. “He was so fucking hot.”
“Oh yeah. I remember him. We used to watch that show together after school. In my living room. Sharing one blanket.” Harley recalled the memory while looking at Peter to see if that bothered him as much as he hoped.
“Okay well I see your one musty blanket and raise you the time she sat on my lap because there weren’t enough seats in the car. And her pony tail was in my mouth for the whole ride. Sounds like a really comfortable blanket, though. Congrats.”
“Oh my God.” You groaned. “Guys, stop. I can’t listen to you trying to one up each other with what you think are impressive things. I’m friends with both of you and that’s it. I’m not gonna be the yard stick in your dick measuring contest right now.”
“Yard stick?” Harley laughed. “Damn. What type of guys have you been dating?”
“Not you, obviously.” Peter mumbled.
“And why is that obvious?” Harley asked him.
“Because you’re wearing the Bella Hadid of skinny jeans right now and they don’t leave much to the imagination.” Peter shrugged. You shot him a look but he wasn’t backing down.
“I don’t even know what that means.” Harley snorted.
“It means your jeans are really tight, Keen.” You whispered to him. A smile tugged at Harley’s lips over the nickname and he took that as an opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulders.
“Sorry. You know I’m not great with pop culture references. I’m more into the classics.”
“You literally just mentioned frat Harry and Niall but okay.” Peter mumbled under his breath.
“Stop fighting.” You warned. “This weird little competition you have going on it stupid and unnecessary. I want you guys to be friends. Then we can all hang out.”
“We can never be friends, Sands.” Harley told you.
“Yeah. That was the second time the broken clock was right.” Peter agreed. “Because he’s Gale and I’m Peeta. He’s Jacob and I’m Edward. He’s Jesse and I’m Jake. He’s Tom Hardy and I’m Chris Pine in that movie we watched where they’re both spies and fall in love with Reese Witherspoon.”
“This Means War.” You snapped your fingers when you remember the name of the movie he was talking about.
“Hold on. I’m pretty sure you made yourself the guy who gets the girl in all those examples.” Harley pointed out.
“And I’m pretty sure you 100% understand pop culture references so I’m not sure why you lied a minute ago.” Peter replied.
“If you’re gonna keep this up I’m leaving.” You told them.
“Fine. We’ll stop. But if you’re not too busy with this web stuff, I could use your help with a song.”
“You sing?” Peter sighed in defeat. He had hoped Harley was just the water boy or something for the band he was in.
“A little.” Harley shrugged.
“He’s being modest.” You insisted. “Harley has a great voice. And he plays the guitar. You should come with me the next time his band has a show. He’s the frontman.
“Jesus Christ. Of course he’s the frontman. Do you ride a motorcycle too?” Peter asked mockingly.
“Yes, actually.” Harley replied. He had Peter beat in the cool bad boy department and they both knew it.
“Did you bring it?” You gasped and squeezed Harley’s arm.
“I did. You want to take a ride and go get some food?” He asked you.
“Yeah. Sure.” You smiled excitedly.
“You’re leaving?” Peter huffed like a little kid.
“You should come.” You replied. “You haven’t eaten yet. And we can show Harley around the neighborhood.”
“No, thank you. I need to finish this. By myself.” Peter grumbled as he stared daggers at Harley. Harley just smirked and gave Peter a shrug that said “better luck next time”.
“While you straddle a guitar players bike.” Peter mumbled under his breath.
“What was that?” You asked him.
“I said I hope the weather stays nice.” Peter lied through an exaggerated smile.
Peter tried to stay busy in the lab for a while but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you and Harley were doing. Your conversation did little to ease his mind about your history with Harley so now all he could think of was the worst case scenario. The image of you getting whisked away on the back of Harley’s bike with your arms wrapped around his waist was playing in Peter’s mind no matter how hard he wanted to push it out. You were probably laughing at all his jokes and leaning into his side at some restaurant. To clear his head, Peter went for a walk to clear his head. When he came back, he heard the sound of a guitar coming from your bedroom. His curiosity got the better of him and he went to your room to see what was happening. When he pushed your door open, he saw you and Harley sitting on your bed while the played the guitar for you.
“Oh. Sorry. Sorry to myself that I had to hear that. Wait, what? Sorry, what did you guys say?” Peter played dumb and looked between the two of you.
“We didn’t say anything.” You laughed and knew exactly what he was doing.
“I was just playing Y/n the song I wrote for her.” Harley told him.
“You wrote her a song? Well isn’t that just peaches and cream?” Peter smiled tightly.
“Yeah. Would you like it hear it?” Harley smiled innocently and strummed a few chords.
“It’s really good.” You said. “It’s about our friendship and always being there for each other despite living in different places.”
“Sounds really magical and effervescent. Didn’t realize your cycles synced up.” Peter said quickly but you still caught what he said.
“What was that?” You asked him.
“I said I would love to hear it so bad.” Peter lied. Harley started to play the beginning of the song but slowly stopped playing and cleared his throat.
“What’s wrong, Keen?” You asked, making Peter roll his eyes.
“I’m feeling shy all the sudden.” He laughed shyly.
“Really? Because of me?” Peter asked. “I thought you’d be used to singing to men. Because that’s who I assume is your target audience giving all the pins on your guitar strap.”
“No. Because of you, actually.” He admitted to you. “I haven’t played you the second chorus yet. And it’s pretty vulnerable.”
“Well, let me hear it.”
“Yeah. Let’s hear it. Let’s all hear it.” Peter said to remind you both that he was there. Harley smiled timidly at you before starting to play the song again.
“Though we’re miles apart, you’re still in my heart. Fought with paper swords when we were kids. I wish we still did.“ He sang in a smooth voice that even Peter had to admit was good. You looked utterly in love and rested your chin on your knee as you listened to him sing to you.
“The ribbons in your hair, playing truth or dare. We grew up too soon. Cause now I miss you.” Harley continued singing and you covered your face with your hands to hide your smile. Peter couldn’t take it anymore and felt himself losing the urge to interject.
“Do you guys ever think about how mozzarella sticks-“
“Peter! Shh.” You hushed Peter and quickly returned your attention to Harley.
“Now I live in a different city. I saw online that you’re still pretty. I text and ask how you’ve been. You send back Checkers but never win. I wish things didn’t have to change. Like when you went to a school far away. You came home but we were never as we were. I love you now but I sometimes miss her.” Harley slowly stopped strumming the strings and looked at you with a shy smile. You gasped and clapped your hands for him while he blushed a deep red.
“Sorry. I know it’s cheesy.” He said. “It’s about missing how close we were when we were kids. I know we still talk but it’s not the same. We catch up every now and then but I miss when I knew about every thing about your day.”
“That’s really sweet, Keen. We should talk more. Because I miss our friendship too.” You said and squeezed his shoulder. Harley smiled and toyed with his guitar.
“Peter, what did you think of…” You trailed off when you realized Peter wasn’t there anymore. You immediately felt guilty because you weren’t sure when he left.
“Damn it.” You hissed. “I gotta go talk to him.”
“No. Let me.” Harley said and put his guitar down. He walked down the hallway until he found Peter’s room and knocked on the doorway.
“Hey.” Harley greeted. Peter looked up at him and rolled his eyes.
“If you’re here to sing to me-“
“I’m not. I want to talk to you.” Harley cut him off and went and sat on his bed. They sat in awkward silence for a moment as neither knew where to begin.
“You know, if you and I keep this rivalry up, we’re only going to hurt her.” Harley said after a minute.
“I know that.” Peter said quietly.
“Look, Peter, you seem like a nice guy. I can tell why she likes you. And she obviously really enjoys your friendship. But that’s all that’s ever gonna happen between you two. A friendship. Because I’ve been playing the long game.” Harley said earnestly. He wasn’t trying to be mean or hurt Peter, just being candid.
“So have I.” Peter told him.
“And how’s that going for you?” Harley asked with genuine curiosity.
“I’ll have you know I accidentally brushed against her boob once and she didn’t even bat an eye, so.” Peter shrugged like what he said mattered.
“Yeah?” Harley laughed. “We’ve kissed.”
Peters world came crashing down in that moment. He felt a hot rod of jealousy pierce his heart and cut him straight down the middle upon learning this.
“What?” He asked with a dry mouth.
“I was her first kiss. She didn’t tell you?”
“No. She never mentioned that.”
“Peter, I didn’t come in here to hurt you.” Harley began. “I just wanted to let you know what my intentions are. I came back to New York for her. I think it’s finally time she and I give it a go. And I think she feels it too. But I hope that you and I can put this aside and become friends. Because I genuinely think we’d get along.”
“If you and her start dating, there is no way we’re gonna be friends.” Peter said without making eye contact.
“Why not?” Harley asked, sounding a little hurt.
“Because I’m gonna kill myself.” Peter snapped, making Harley laugh in surprise. Peter couldn’t help but laugh too when he heard how ridiculous he sounded.
“I hope you don’t. Because she’d miss you. And I would too.” Harley told him. The boys looked at each other for a moment and ending up smiling. Peter felt his animosity towards Harley dissipate and realized they were just two boys who liked the same girl. And on top of that, Peter couldn’t blame him for liking you. How could he not?
“Please don’t.” Peter blurted.
“Don’t what?” Harley wondered.
“Don’t go for her. You’re so handsome. Like, in your face, Greys Anatomy doctor level handsome. You have the bike and the guitar and the floppy hair. You could go out and get any girl. I will even help you find one. But please, don’t go for her. Because I can’t compete with you. I can’t write her a song like that. I tried to write her a poem once but I was too scared to give it to her.” Peter said as he pulled out his notebook to show Harley his poem. Harley read over the poem a few times as his eyebrows knit together.
“You rhymed “go the movies” with “the shape of your boobies”. Two separate times but they’re completely different trains of thought. I’m not even sure how you did that. This stanza just says “perchance.” You can’t just say “perchance”. And this line is just a lyric from Pound the Alarm.”
“Do you see why I need you to back off?” Peter sighed and took the notebook back.
“You don’t think I feel the same way? I can’t compete with you either. You get her in a weird way that I never could. I see the way she laughs at your jokes. And relaxes around you. She and I have shared history but sometimes I wonder if we’re just rehashing the good memories and never making any new ones. If she and I met today, I don’t know if she’d like me. But you two formed an organic friendship. There’s no wondering whether or not she likes you or just likes the nostalgia. And I know she adores you. She tells me about you all the time. I know every story of every person you’ve ever saved. But she loves the regular side of you too. She once told me about this time you got your finger stuck in a park bench and she was laughing so hard during it that I didn’t even hear half the story. Her real laugh, too. The one where her head falls back and she kinda wheezes. I haven’t been able to make her laugh like that since we were kids.”
“Okay unfortunately you’re right and I actually do want to be friends with you.” Peter said after hearing Harley be vulnerable with him. Harley chuckled and Peter found himself laughing too.
“Let’s just promise that whoever she chooses, the other backs off and lets her be happy. She deserves that.” Harley said and Peter nodded in agreement.
“If it’s you, you better treat her right.” Peter told him.
“Or what? You’ll shoot me with your fart gun?” Harley joked.
“Yeah. Exactly.” Peter laughed.
“I’ll take care of her. You would too. I know that.” Harley said once their laughter died down.
“I’m glad you know. But I’m not worried. She knows where home is. Sooner or later, she’ll stop eating shrimps with the wimps and come eat lobster with the monster.” Peter shrugged and gestured to himself.
“I don’t even understand what that-“
“Me either.” Peter cut him off.
After their talk, Harley went back to your room and found you playing with his guitar. You looked up at him when he walked in and smiled.
“Hey.” He said and sat back down beside you.
“Hey. I think I still remember how to play Hey There Delilah on the guitar.” You told him and gave a bad attempt at playing the chords.
“Do you?” Harley asked skeptically and you laughed.
“I guess not. How’s Peter?” You asked and set the guitar down.
“He’s fine. I don’t think he liked my song, through.” Harley joked.
“It’s okay. I liked it.” You replied and gave him a fold smile. Harley smiled back and took your hand in his. You gulped at the contact because you felt something was coming.
“I really do miss you.” He told you.
“Miss you too, Keen. You should visit more.”
“I know. But you need to give me a really good excuse to come up here because I’m not a fan of the flight.”
“What kind of excuse?” You smiled nervously. To answer your question, Harley slipped a hand behind your head and started to pull you into a kiss. Before your lips could touch, you turned away and hung your head so that you didn’t have to see his face.
“I can’t.” You said quietly. Harley withdrew his hand and put them on his lap.
“Because of him?” He asked and you nodded your head. Harley laughed shortly and nodded as well.
“I get it. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. But I have to admit, I always thought you and I would just go for it one day.”
“So did I.” You admitted.
“So why can’t we just…” He trailed off and gestured between the two of you. You finally looked into his eyes and gave him an apologetic smile.
“Because I’d always wonder about him.” You answered. Harley smiled sadly but nodded in understanding.
“Can we still be friends?” He asked you.
“Are you kidding? Of course we can. This doesn’t haven’t to change anything.”
“Good. Because I don’t have anyone else to play IMessage games with.”
“I’m sending Checkers right now. And winning.” You said as you pulled out your phone.
“We’ll see.” He laughed.
Peter slept at home that night in fear of hearing the sounds of you and Harley consummating your new relationship. He put his earbuds in and listened to his sad boy tunes and cried until he fell asleep. He got up the next day with puffy eyes and got dressed to prepare himself in case you wanted to see him. Just as he was getting up to leave him bedroom, you appeared in his doorway. He jumped a little and sat back down on his bed.
“Hey. I thought I’d see you last night.” You said and folded your arms.
“Yeah, sorry. I needed to come home and clear my head.” He said without looking at you.
“Oh, okay. Is it anything you want to talk about?”
“Not particularly, no.” He replied. You have Peter a look up and down and let out an amused laugh.
“What?” He wondered.
“You’re wearing skinny jeans.” You pointed out with a cheeky smile.
“Psht. No.” He scoffed. “These are regular jeans.”
“Those are absolutely your skinny jeans from when we went as Kurt and Blaine for Halloween. And you didn’t gel your hair today. Oh my God. You’re trying to look like Harley.”
“I am not.” He lied but upon looking in the mirror, he realized he had definitely channeled Harley when getting dressed.
“You are. Which I don’t understand. I like your gelled hair and dorky t shirts. Why are you trying to be someone else?” You asked as you sat beside him on his bed.
“I don’t know.” He lied again because he couldn’t tell you that he was trying to look like the boy you liked.
“Harley said he talked to you yesterday after he played his song.” You said to change the subject.
“Yeah. We talked. He mentioned that you guys kissed.” Peter admitted without looking up at you.
“Yeah. We did.” You nodded. Peter clenched his eyes shut at you confirmed it and hung his head.
“I didn’t know that.” He said quietly.
“Because it was so awkward that I never tell anyone. We were like 11 or something and acting in a very poorly rehearsed summer camp rendition of Grease. I was Sandy and he was Danny. But my dad brought all his business man friends to come see me and I got so nervous I threw up during Hopelessly Devoted.”
“Oh.” Peter couldn’t help but smile now that he knew the kiss was nothing to worry about.
“Yeah. You feel stupid now, don’t you? You got all worked up over a peck between two 11 year olds.”You teased him and poked his aide.
“I may feel stupid but at least I wasn’t a theater kid.” He mumbled.
“Hey.” You said warningly and smacked his arm.
“Sorry.” He chuckled and rubbed his arm.
“So are we okay?” You asked him and turned to face him.
“I don’t know. Is your boyfriend gonna be okay with us staying friends?” Peter asked with a roll of his eyes.
“Well I don’t know either. Since I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t?” Peter asked as hope grew in his chest.
“Peter, I don’t like Harley like that.” You insisted. “I told you that.”
“I thought you were capping.” He shrugged.
“I wasn’t.” You chuckled. “He’s not the one I like.”
“So you do like someone? Who is he? Is he bigger than me?” Peter asked with his jealously coming back with full force.
“Oh my God. You’re honestly so annoying.” You groaned and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. Peter wasn’t expecting this so he froze for a moment before kissing you back. He’d been waiting a long time for this so he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close and full enjoy the moment. When you pulled away, you both laughed shyly and rested your foreheads together.
“Was that just as friends or…” Peter trailed off and looked at you for answers.
“Uh huh. Yeah. That was a friendship kiss.” You replied sarcastically before pulling him back in.
Tag List 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke
@officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @leilanixx
@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
@mathletemadison
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr
@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu
@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
#peter parker x reader#peter parker jealous#peter parker fluff#harley keener x reader#peter parker imagine#peter parker angst#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x stark!daughter#peter parker x stark!reader#peter parker x you#peter parker x y/n#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland fluff#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x y/n
697 notes
·
View notes
Text
8: SURPRISE!
Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter
Bucky's surprise birthday party provides more surprises than you had hoped.
Word count 3.2k
Warnings: Birthday boy behaving badly, Priya is the warning here!
Erik’s sexual intervention had released you of the tension you felt whenever you were around Bucky and you realized that his birthday was quickly approaching. You made it your mission to start working on Bucky’s birthday party. The previous year he had flat out refused to let you throw him any festive gathering and you had only accepted that on one condition: he would get one this year. You had no intention of letting him wheedle his way out of it this year. He had begrudgingly agreed but only if it was something small and intimate with his friends only.
You had given Bucky a withering look. "Trust me! I know you well enough. You’re going to like it. I promise!"
You felt like a kid in a candy store, who had been given the keys to Willy Wonka’s entire kingdom. Glee was written across your features, you wanted everything to be perfect for your best friend. Steve was your trusty accomplice and you had invited Priya into the fold as a way to make up for your misdemeanors. She had suggested that you order food from Sticks and Stones because he loved the food there and even convinced Victor to help with the catering.
A week before the auspicious day, you had pulled Steve aside to ask him if he would accompany you to pick up Bucky’s birthday gift.
"Did you find it?" Steve asked you.
"The Glenn Miller vinyl?"
Steve nodded.
"Yeah, I found it! It’s in a vintage records store in SoHo." You smiled.
"Bucky’s going to love it. His family would play them all the time, he was such a natural dancer. It would be nice for him to do that again."
"I’m glad it’s got Captain America’s seal of approval!" you quipped cheekily.
Steve rolled his eyes, feeling relaxed and happy for once. "Do you want to go and pick it up now? I’ll drive. I can pick up my gift at the same time!"
"Oh that would be great, Steve! What did you get him?"
"You know that picture you took, the one of Bucky, you, me, Nat and Sam?"
"Yeah, I know the one."
"I painted it. There is a guy who said he would frame it and he texted me this morning saying it was ready to collect.
"Steve! I can’t wait to see it!" you squealed with excitement. "Let’s go!"
Both of you set off, climbing the stairs that led to the parking garage.
"Oh, Priya, hey! Didn't see you there!" you smiled at her as you noticed her presence at the top of the staircase.
Priya smiled back at you tersely.
"Everything okay?" Steve asked.
"Fine."
"Do you need a lift home?"
"No, I'm spending the night with Bucky."
"Ahh," Steve blushed at the implication of sex.
You rolled your eyes and tugged on Steve's sleeve. "Come on, punk. See you later Priya!"
*
March tenth came around quicker than expected. You waited impatiently for Bucky to arrive as his 'surprise’ party. Even though Priya was distracting him, Bucky knew about the events that had been planned. You knew he didn't like loud noises or jump scares, but he had promised to act suitably surprised.
Everything for the party went off without a hitch. The room was filled with dozens and dozens of black and gold balloons. Swing music was playing on the gramophone that Tony had purchased for the occasion. Sam cheekily had a cardboard cut out of Bucky made with his vibranium arm cut off so you could play ‘Pin the arm on Bucky’. You groaned but secretly you wanted to beat everyone.
Thor had made an appearance and was already half way through the bucketful of Asgardian ale, which he claimed to have brought for the birthday boy. Even Ayo, who you'd invited, had graced you with her presence. When she arrived, you flung your arms around the reserved Wakandan warrior. The Dora Milaje did not engage in public displays of emotion, but for you she offered a hug in return.
Things seemed to be going well. Bucky arrived with Priya and was greeted with yells and streamers. Bucky's surprise was convincing… possibly a little too dramatic, making Priya laugh and you groan exasperatedly. You stood on the side of the room watching everyone mingle, enjoying how Bucky's attention was demanded from everyone in the room. His friends were kind enough not to crowd him, or overwhelm him, but also make him feel special all at the same time.
It warmed your heart to see the light in his eyes, the enjoyment on his face. Priya was glued to his side, stroking his hair, whispering in his ear. His arm was constantly around her waist. She was the only thing that marred your perfect vision of the event.
"I am surprised that James chose that woman," Ayo appeared beside you, seemingly out of nowhere.
"Jesus, Ayo. We've talked about you sneaking around. Don't make me tie a bell around your ankles!"
Ayo smiled. "Why isn't that you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why haven't you told James how you feel?" Ayo doesn't wait for your reply. "It could be you dancing with him rather than standing here looking like a wallflower."
"Maybe you could dance with me."
"I think not, Y/N." Ayo never used your nickname.
"Way to let a girl down gently, Ayo."
Ayo just rolled her eyes at you and ventured over to Thor who was challenging everyone to a drinking contest, one which no one was engaging in. Steve was beside him, sipping the liquor carefully enjoying the buzz he rarely got to experience. Wanda and Vision were lovingly embraced in each other's arms in a corner, dancing like the rest of the world didn't exist. Nat was behind the bar serving her own special cocktails and flirting with a blushing Bruce. Clint and Laura were laughing with Pepper, while Tony, Sam and Rhodey were playing cards and making the most outrageous noise.
You loved your little found family, even though you missed the one that brought you up. Coulson's S.H.I.E.L.D. team had inducted you into the world of violence and espionage and aliens and time travel. It was with them that you'd learnt to control your powers and become worthy to call yourself an Avenger.
Agent Melinda May was the only member of the team you saw regularly anymore since she worked close by in the new S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy HQ. She had been your S.O. for many years and held a special place in your heart, despite her prickly exterior. She often joked that you would make an excellent addition to her staff at the Academy and to ensure that you lived long enough to accept the position when retiring from ‘that Avenger gig’.
You were brought out of your reverie about the past by Priya, who was standing on a chair shouting about it being time for presents.
Everyone cheered and you were grinning like a lunatic now. You felt excited to give Bucky your gift. The first edition Glenn Miller record was safely wrapped in a solid casing. In the Mood was the last song that Bucky and his family had danced to while he had been on leave from the War. His last happy memory of them before he had fallen from the life he had known, before he had been thrust into a world of ice and torture.
About a year ago, you had caught Bucky using your Spotify to listen to music from his childhood and had offhandedly mentioned this piece of information about his past. You kept hold of this precious tidbit for the right occasion.
Bucky had already started ripping open wrapping paper when you ventured over. Wanda had knitted him a black scarf with golden threads to match his arm, which had made him smile. Next Sam handed him a small black box which Bucky opened to find a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs.
"Thought you could use some props, spice life up a little," he winked at Bucky. Sam had a way of pushing Bucky's buttons, but you could see the mild blush on Bucky's cheeks which deepened when Priya interjected.
"Thank you very much, Samuel, but James and I don't need such tawdry things in the bedroom."
Bucky shrugged apologetically at Sam and you wondered if he was thinking about your recent conversation.
Sam was pushed aside by Thor, who deposited a large vat of ale into Bucky's arms. "Many happy returns, metal man." He patted Bucky on the back so hard that Bucky almost dropped his gift.
Bucky was depositing the alcohol on the gift table when he was approached by Ayo. "Happy Birthday, James."
"Thank you for coming, it means a lot that you took the time."
"You look like you are doing well for yourself."
"Yeah, it’s good," Bucky smiled.
"This is for you." She handed him a simple box with padding on the inside. Bucky opened it to find a pair of ornately decorated blades made from vibranium. Everyone gasped at how beautiful they looked in the dim lights. They collapsed in on themselves and were discrete and easy to conceal. Ayo pointed out a small device which acted like a homing beacon so Bucky would be able to locate them if he lost sight of them.
"These are incredible! Thank you."
Tony didn't have many words but he did hand Bucky a beautifully ornate envelope which Bucky opened tentatively. Inside was an invitation to a magnificent moonlit dinner on a yacht on the Hudson. Bucky held the gift reverently in his hands, his vibranium fingers barely gripping, as though their strength might make the gift crumble. His eyes glistened in the party lights, a thin film of unshed tears. There had been a time where they were ready to kill each other, and even now they never spent any time alone together. You knew that this gift meant a lot to Bucky.
"Dinner on a boat? I think we'll have to pass on that, I get sea sick." Priya commented, gazing at the gift certificate around Bucky's arm.
A flicker of irritation crossed Tony's face, before he grinned mischievously. "Not a problem, it's not person specific. Manchurian Candidate here can take anyone he likes. Capsicle might not be a fan of the food, but I think Cricket would really enjoy the cuisine."
He turned to wink at you, making you blush. You couldn’t help but notice the scowl on Priya’s face, no matter how short lived it was and you knew you were about to meet your comeuppance when the glowering look she was shooting in your direction turned into a beaming smile.
"Jamie! It’s my turn, baby. I have a very special gift for you!" She hands him a thin square shaped gift wrapped in shiny golden wrapping paper. "Here!"
You felt a sudden weight on your chest, a feeling of dread washing over you. It felt like things were moving in slow motion, watching Bucky unwrap the gift. You didn’t know what you had been expecting when he pulled out a shiny record cover. It was as though someone had poured a bucket of ice water over you, except you were paralyzed. The color drained from your face as you realized what the album was.
‘The Very Best of Glenn Miller.’
Bucky’s eyes shone brightly as he dropped the wrapping paper and ran his flesh fingers over the cover reverently. "Priya," he gasped in a whisper. "I- it's perfect." Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her into his chest and giving her a long, passionate kiss. "I love it! I love you!"
You barely noticed Steve sideling up to you, you couldn't hear him asking if you were okay. That was your gift. It was yours! If you didn’t have the vinyl you’d bought and so lovingly wrapped in your hand, you’d think she had stolen it from you. It felt like you couldn’t breathe, every attempt you made felt futile, like the air around you had left the room. He had shared the same things with her, you thought he trusted you with his past, but you weren't as special as you thought you were.
Eventually you looked up when Steve put a gentle hand on your shoulder. He whispered, almost as though his words he was about to use were criminal. "Do you remember when we were talking last week? Before we went to pick up our gifts? You don’t think she overheard us… do you? And…"
In the end, it didn’t really matter. You knew in the moment that you’d lost Bucky forever. Everything felt far away, the room was suffocating, why were there so many people? Tears burned in your orbital sockets, drowning you from the inside out. You couldn’t face them anymore, seeing the happiness on Bucky’s face, knowing that someone else was responsible for that smile, that light inside him, was heartbreaking. Ultimately, you wanted him to be happy but you wanted to share that joy with him, you wanted to be the one to give it to him and watching that mantle being taken from you and bequeathed to another person was soul crushing. Gripping your present tightly, you slipped out of the room, Steve watching your retreating footsteps with sympathy, but knowing not to follow.
A few tears escaped as you found refuge in the kitchen, but you had no desire to explain red eyes and a blotchy nose to any of the other team members or party goers, so you wiped them away angrily, taking a few calming breaths before pouring yourself a strong drink. You sank onto a bar stool, shoving the record onto the chair to your right, you had no use for it anymore. There had barely been time for you to take 2-3 sips from your drink before Bucky popped his head into the room.
"Cricket? There you are!"
"Hey Buck! Having a good time?" You plastered a smile on your face, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
Deception in this case was a futile attempt, Bucky was well versed in the movements of your face. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing," you lied. "Just getting a drink."
"There are plenty of drinks back there."
He looked searchingly into your eyes and the facade you had erected was crumbling. You looked away, dropping your head to try and hide your face with your hair.
"It was just a bit much, everyone there… I don’t know, I feel a little… overwhelmed."
Too much drain of the social battery, Bucky was familiar with that. He pulled out the chair on your left, almost giving you a heart attack because you had momentarily forgotten which chair you’d left the present on.
"If you want to give me my gift here, we can do it privately. Everyone else is done," Bucky suggested, leaning towards you.
The smell of his cologne was intoxicating. Suddenly you felt angry that he was there, why couldn’t he give you a moment to grieve? Constantly invading your space, reminding you of what you couldn’t have, dangling the carrot but keeping it just out of reach. "Well you already have the perfect gift from your girlfriend, what more do you need?" You couldn’t keep the bitterness out of your tone.
As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. But the damage was done. There was a deathly silence between you where you were afraid to look at your best friend.
"You know, I thought I would have you both in my life; my best friend and my girlfriend. I feel like you’re making me choose you over her and it’s not fair, Cricket! I’ve tried, I really have but you’re making it impossible! So you know what, I’m going to have to choose Priya. At least she bothered to put some effort into getting me a birthday gift. I can have a future with her."
The worst thing about his words were the disappointment and finality in his tone. And with that he left you alone with only your thoughts for company. A storm raged inside you, a maelstrom of emotions; anger, betrayal, abandonment, rejection, loss, just outright pain. How could he? How could he choose her over you? After everything you had been through together, the bond you had forged, the absolute faith and trust you had put in each other. Did it mean nothing to him? Did you mean nothing to him?
Trudging back to your room, you sought comfort in your giant bed, hoping it would envelope you completely. Wrapping the duvet around your body and over your head, you buried your face in a pillow and allowed the tears to fall. Once the gates had opened, the trickle of tears became a flood as you sobbed into your pillow to muffle the sound.
Why did he have to choose? Why didn’t he choose you? The pain in your chest was unbearable, a physical ache that matched the emotional turmoil inside you. You had tried so hard to make things work, to give him a balance of your friendship with his relationship with Priya, but now it seemed like all your efforts had been in vain. He had made his choice, and it wasn’t with you.
As you lay there in your bed, the tears continued to flow, a never-ending stream of sadness and heartbreak. You felt like a piece of you had been ripped away, leaving a raw, gaping wound in its place. How could you move on from this? How could you ever trust anyone again, knowing that they could just choose someone else over you?
You sighed, you knew now that you would never be good enough for him. Everything you’d tried to hold on to, had done nothing but push him away. You remembered when you had first understood your feelings, you’d considered pulling away to protect yourself. But Bucky had reeled you back in, constantly asking if he had done something to hurt you. So you’d given in, telling yourself you didn’t want to hurt him. But in reality, it had been selfish, you had indulged in a fantasy and ended up hurting the man you loved and getting hurt in the process.
You startled as a door slammed shut nearby. It was Bucky’s bedroom door, you could hear Priya giggling and Bucky’s deep voice through the wall. Your body froze with shock, the last thing you needed right now was to listen to your best friend having sex with his girlfriend. You shoved your airpods into your ears and turned up one of your lo-fi playlists and closed your eyes.
The decision you should have made then, was far more clear to you now. Your friend and old superior officer from your S.H.I.E.L.D. team had repeatedly offered you the chance to teach with her at the newly formed Coulson Academy. She had taught you everything you knew and believed in your ability to impart the knowledge you’d gained to potential agents. It was time for you to take her up on this offer.
As you wiped away your tears and made a decision to move forward, you knew that it was time to focus on yourself and your own happiness. Bucky had made his choice, and now it was time for you to make yours. You couldn’t continue to dwell on what would never be, on the pain of rejection and heartbreak.
Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter
Tag list: @samodivaa @scoonsalicious @noonespecial90 @browneyedgrli @vicmc624 @cjand10 @capswife @julvrs @ordelixx @sashaisready @sebastians-love @belleofthebooks @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @rabbitrabbit12321 @love-isnt-greed @hhiggs @winters1917 @blackhawkfanatic @calwitch @learisa @daybleedsintonightfa11 @lillianacristina @mostlymarvelgirl @wintercrow @buckitostan @crist1216 @bisexualnikkisixx @robynjasp
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fan fiction#my best friend's girl
240 notes
·
View notes
Text
So Blue | Han Jisung
•Synopsis: Who can you turn to in a dire situation if not your best friend? That's what Jisung thought when he texted you. Heart racing with fear that your best friend was hurt, you rush to his side. What you find however will change everything...
•Pairings: non idol Jisung x Female Reader
•Content Includes: smut, friends to lovers, strong language, mention of sexual enhancement drug, light anxiety, creampie, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, cum eating
an: photos of Han used in title graphic have been edited for entertainment purposes by me and are not real. no harm is intended in the edited pictures. also please do not take any enhancement meds without talking to a doctor for your own safety. i don't condone the behavior that's written.
Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌
The house is quiet, way too quiet when you step inside. Knowing Chan, Changbin, and Jisung for years, you know it's never this quiet when they're around and it's unsettling... Shutting the door behind you and glancing around, you see nothing out of the ordinary. So far everything looks exactly the way you left it last night after the four of you hung out. Just as you're about to walk into the kitchen, you hear Jisung start calling your name from his bedroom. Your heart races with panic and you rush towards his room, dropping your bag on the floor along the way. All kinds of awful scenarios play in your mind and when you burst into his room you half expect to find him bloody or with a broken bone, not sitting on the edge of his bed in a white sleeveless shirt and black shorts, with his legs spread sporting a massive hard-on.
"Wait, why me?" you blurt out, when Jisung explains that he needs your help. Your cheeks heat up as you steal a quick glance at the unmistakable bulge in his shorts. There's a mix of embarrassment and unexpected arousal that floods through you, leaving you flustered.
You're shocked, jaw practically hitting the floor. Who knew he was so… big? After all these years of friendship, you never thought of him in any other way except as your weird and talented friend. But now, seeing him in this state… It's making you feel things you'd rather deny and your stomach is flipping like crazy. Every now and then you notice that his cock twitches underneath his shorts as if it's alive, pulsating and drawing your eyes down to it again despite how hard you try not to stare. Kind of hard when something that size is practically waving “Hello” at you.
"I- I can't tell the guys this. They'd clown me for life," Jisung stammers, fidgeting as he looks at you from across his messy room. Plastic water bottles scattered, tissues crumpled on the floor—yeah, it's pretty clear what he's been up to before you got here.
"Well, what do you expect me to do, Han Jisung?" you retort, emphasizing his full name for dramatic effect.
"I don't know," he mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. "It's been hours. I can't even leave my room. It hurts, y/n."
When he grabs at the stiffness beneath his cotton shorts and lets out a low groan, you stop breathing. Why does this have to turn me on? He's my best friend! You mentally scold yourself, tearing your gaze away. Shit, it's hot in here. Your body feels too hot all over. It's like standing too close to a blazing fire, the heat making you squirm uncomfortably.
"Ji... we need to get you to the hospital," you say, avoiding his gaze. "You've seen those commercials."
"Please, no! I can't let anyone see me. Did you forget, your bestie Annie, who also happens to be Chan's girl, works there. If she sees me, it's game over. She'll tell him." Jisung pleads, hands clasped together, desperation evident in his wide brown eyes. Those puppy dog eyes of his always get to you.
"Dude, what were you even thinking, taking Love?" you groan, plopping down on the cozy carpet with a heavy thud, completely confused by your friend's decision to take an enhancement pill.
You remember seeing those late-night infomercials a couple of years back, pushing that blue heart-shaped pill. They call it 'Love' because of the 'L0-V3' stamped on it. Basically it's like Viagra, but it's mixed with a very low dose of THC. They advertise that it does more than just keep things up. 'Guaranteed to give you the ultimate pleasure,' they say.
Jisung shrugs, watching you with a miserable expression. “I was curious if it would make masturbating feel different, better maybe? I mean it did the first 6 times. Wah! The orgasms were fucking mind blowing y/n.” He smiles and chuckles.
"Ji, oh my god! Ugh, have mercy on my ears bro." Both of you burst into laughter, but then you notice Ji wincing in pain. Your mood quickly shifts from playful to genuine concern.
"It hurts that much?" you ask, feeling awful that he's so uncomfortable.
He nods weakly, “It's not even just my dick but my balls feel so fuckin’ heavy. Like they're literally going to rip from my body.”
You cringe inwardly, fingers pressing into your ears as he launches into yet another one of his oversharing moments. His lack of filter has always been a trademark of his, but that's just Jisung being Jisung. After being friends since grade five, it's like he's incapable of holding back anything with you. You remember the day he lost his virginity, he texted you literally right after. His excitement was evident even through the phone. As a joke you got him a cake in the shape of the letter ‘V’. That was in highschool and his habit of sharing way too much is still going strong in your twenties. Only difference is this time his oversharing is doing things to you.
The dampness between your thighs, well, that's just gotta be a coincidence, right? I mean, it's not like the sight of your long time buddy sporting a hard-on is doing anything for you. It's more than likely just the frustration of being on a three-year dry spell. Yeah, that's gotta be it. It's definitely because you haven't been fucked in a long time and not Jisung himself. You give your head a shake, dropping your hands from your ears with a wry smirk.
"Ji, we've really gotta do something… before it gets worse. You don't want it to fall off." You tell him jokingly, trying to keep the mood light but you're feeling worried all over again.
"Yeah, yeah I know. You're right, but what are we supposed to do? I've tried everything, even beatin' it 11 times, and still no luck.” He says, sounding so casual about his masturbatory activities.
You let out an embarrassed groan and fall back dramatically onto the floor, while Jisung lets out a pitiful whine. You grab your phone and start searching for home remedies but after an hour of scrolling, you're still at square one. Not a single remedy seems feasible. Leeches? Nah, no way. As if either of you would go near those slimy things. And some tea from a self-proclaimed witch sounds sketchy as hell. Plus, she's halfway across the globe. It would take forever to get here, if it even would. Jisung hasn't had any luck either. Every twenty minutes You hear him curse under his breath and run his hands through his hair. You two are running out of options, and as time passes, you start to feel more and more useless.
"Y/n," Jisung whispers your name after another forty minutes of searching, his voice hesitant.
You look up at him, doe eyed and innocently chewing your lip. “Hm? What's up, Hannie? Did you find something?” With a strained grunt he nods in response looking at you intensely.
“Fuck, shit.” He mutters under his breath, almost like he's talking to himself. “My dick... It won't go down without…”
“Ji what is it? You're freaking me out. Without what?” You scramble up onto your knees and crawl over to the bed, inching closer to him, eyes full of concern.
Jisung looks like he's in absolute agony watching you crawl over to him. His emotions are all over the place, you can practically feel the tension radiating off of him when you reach the bed. His eyes are like flames, burning far too hot when he looks at you. You can see the struggle written all over his face like he's fighting with himself.
“Y/n, you're making it harder,” Jisung breathes out, his voice husky and balling his hands into fists as he tries to keep his composure.
You sit beside him scrunching up your face and like the good friend that you are, you place a comforting hand on his knee. Jisung's breath catches in his throat and a flush creeps up his neck when you touch him making him suddenly feel lightheaded.
"What do you mean 'making it harder'? I'm here trying to help you, remember?” You say, your voice soft and tinged with hurt. The pain in your voice and eyes catches him off guard. He's stammering, suddenly aware of how his words might've come out wrong.
He didn't mean for it to sound bad. You're the last person he'd ever want to hurt. But today, everything you do just seems to set him off. He's been trying so damn hard to push his feelings aside. But it's like having you in his room, despite you being here a million times before, it's messing with his head. He can't think straight. You've always been stunning to him, and yeah, maybe he's entertained some inappropriate thoughts about you in the past, but that was only once. Maybe it's the pill messing with his head but you’re making it impossible for him to focus on anything but you.
“N- no I mean, I’m grateful you're here, really love. You're the only one who can help me. I just mean… you're making it harder. Ya know?” He stammers, licking his lips nervously. He nods down once looking down at his lap before back at you and bites his lip feeling embarrassed. Your eyes flick down to his shorts and go wide when you understand.
"What? How?!" You glance down at your outfit. His black hoodie with the paint splatters that you borrowed a few days ago, paired with simple black leggings. Nothing revealing, yet you're somehow making his cock even harder than it already was.
"You're over there moaning and then you start crawling towards me on all fours. I mean, come on, how could anyone not get turned on by that? Shit!" He chuckles nervously, feeling his heart racing. He hides his face in his hands, laughing, and murmurs something when you giggle.
"You're such a perv, Ji." You tease, still chuckling as you playfully pry his hands away from his face. "Now try that again. I'm not fluent in mumbles, sorry.”
“I said… I just read that it won't go down without intercourse. Bro, I don't exactly have a girlfriend. I'm so fucked.” He sighs, sounding completely defeated.
Your smile falters when you see just how miserable he looks. It's been a while since he was last in a relationship, that was true. Probably a little longer than you, about four years now. His last one ended when she demanded he choose between you and her. She couldn't stand the fact that you would spend the night in the spare bedroom where Jisung, Chan, and Changbin recorded their music, dreaming of making it big someday. Jisung ended things with her on the spot; he wouldn't be with someone who couldn't accept his friends. Apparently she had issues with Minho too, which was probably what really did it for him. But somehow, you can't shake off the feeling that their breakup was somehow your fault, that his single status is on your shoulders.
“I'm sorry Hannie. We'll um, we can figure something out.” You reassure him, innocently rubbing his knee.
Without thinking much, your fingers gently glide over his skin comfortingly, feeling the tenseness in his muscles. He's so stressed. It breaks your heart seeing him like this. You don't know what to do right now other than offer him comfort. There are no answers or solutions that you can think of to give him. All you can do is show him that you're in it together as always. You start rambling on about how you two are both probably freaking out for no reason and that everything will be fine soon. But as your fingers continue to move in innocent slow circles, Jisung starts shifting. It goes unnoticeable by you so you keep talking. It's all nonsense really, delving into something completely random and off topic in an attempt to distract him from the issue at hand, only Jisung isn't processing a single word you've said. He's far too focused on your hand.
The moment your hand landed on his knee he prayed you wouldn't move it, he prayed you would. He tried so hard to focus on anything other than the heat and softness of your hand on his bare skin. It's too much though and his mind starts to quickly wander. He freezes and tries to focus on your voice but it's impossible. Jisung can't stop the thoughts that his mind creates or the images that begin to come into focus. He's imagining your hand sliding up his thigh until it's slipping under his shorts. He can almost feel it happening, his sudden daydream becoming so vivid. In his mind's eye he can see you take him into your hands, feel you stroking him until he's a mess and spilling all over your fingers. He's fighting his demons and you're oblivious to it all. You just continue to talk all while the sensation of your hand is driving him up the wall. He can feel the sudden familiar tightening in his balls and he panics. He can't get control of his body, not with the drug still in his system.
His hand quickly comes down covering yours, stopping the gentle caress to his knee. His intense brown eyes look darker when they stare into yours. His lips slightly part and his breath starts coming out in uneven quiet bursts. The warmth of his hand seems to grow hotter, becoming slightly sweaty against yours and your heart starts pounding in your chest. You feel the subtle shift in his body beneath your touch and his legs tense up as he lets out a soft, involuntary grunt. Jisung's gaze burns into yours with an undeniable intensity that makes air feel thick and your cunt slick.
Is he about to?
You glance down at his shorts and his cock pulsates underneath. You stop breathing when realization hits you. He’s going to cum, right here, right now, all while holding your hand and looking at you. He's leaking so much precum it's noticeable even in the black fabric. A wicked scene flashes through your mind, of you sinking to your knees to taste him, taking his fully clothed cock into your mouth.
"Ah, shit! Mm!" Jisung's moans slip out and his breathing escalates as he starts to tremble all over. "Y/n," he pants out. Your name rolling off his tongue, making your whole body flush as his orgasm quickly builds, like you're the cause of it. "I... oh, shit. I'm... sorry, fuck. I can't... Help it. I'm cumming. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck!”
His grip on your hand tightens and he takes a deep breath before letting out a long low moan. You're left speechless, eyes fixed on Jisung's face as he cums in his pants. His hips move instinctively upwards, as if he's fucking some unseen entity and you can't help but find it incredibly hot. It's possibly the sexiest thing you've ever witnessed and now you're more turned on than you were to before.
His orgasm hits him hard, and you can feel his muscles tighten when he lets go. Warmth spreads through your body and it's impossible not to miss the way his release seeps through his dark shorts. The fabric quickly becomes wetter as his seed flows out in thick, white strings. His cock, still concealed and hard beneath the dampness, slows its wild twitching and stills.
“God, I'm sorry y/n. I don't know what came over me. Your hand... It felt incredible and it just happened. It was like the pill ramped up the feeling.” He apologizes, letting go of your hand. His heavy breathing slows and cheeks flush with a mixture of arousal and shame.
“It's ok Ji, I understand. You don't have to apologize. I wasn't thinking. I'll uh, get you a change of shorts.” You start to get up and head towards his dresser but he catches your wrist. He looks up at you with those brown sugar boba eyes of his making you shift.
“Tell me what you're thinking, y/n. Please? I'm going crazy thinking I'm weirding you out. Be honest with me please, lovely. Please?” He pleads with you.
You sigh and sit back down beside him and almost moan when the seam of your leggings rub against you. Seeing Jisung cum right in front of you, has your body feeling ultra sensitive. You're so on edge as if you've taken an enhancement pill yourself.
"I'm not weirded out, trust me," You confess, your voice low and filled with something more that you try to hide from him and yourself.
"Then how do you feel? You've gone quiet on me." Jisung probes, daring you to reveal your feelings.
“I feel fine Ji.” You say and look at his closet door. It's wide open and his clothes are all over the place inside like a tornado went through it.
“Bullshit y/n. I can tell when you're lying. You never look at me when you lie.”
Sighing you look him in the eyes and your mouth suddenly goes dry. He's not going to let this go until you fess up to him. He'll drill you with questions until you crack and that will probably make things more awkward than it already is. You don't really have a choice but to be transparent with him like you normally are.
“I'm,” You start, only for your words to trail off into a mumble.
“What was it you said earlier y/n? I'm not fluent in mumble?" He smirks, feeling so damn proud of himself and you roll your eyes.
“Ugh, fine. Fine, okay. I'm… horny. There, satisfied?” You admit red in the face. You look away fiddling with the sleeve of Jisung's hoodie.
"What else?" His voice, steady and resolute.
Your head spins back to him, caught off guard. "What else?" you echo loudly in shock. "Isn't all that enough?" He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips, as if he knows something you don't.
"Nah, not when I can feel you holding back," Jisung teases, leaning closer. "We're always so open with each other, but right now, there's something you're not saying."
“I…” You let out a defeated and frustrated sigh. “You turned me on.” You whisper. “The sight of you cumming. The look on your face, that fucking moan, Jisung. The way your cock bobbed from inside your shorts when you… damn it. It fucking made me wet. I've been wet since I walked in here!” You're practically yelling now, breathing heavily after releasing all your pent up feelings and he just smiles and chuckles.
“That wasn't so hard was it?
“Yes,” You say with a huff. “Yes, that actually was pretty damn hard.” You go to cover your face but he stops you.
“Don't be embarrassed, sweetie. I think that's a normal reaction. Sorta like watching porn.” He replies, chuckling.
“I suppose… but it doesn't really help your situation though.” You say feeling mortified.
The room goes quiet for a minute, the pair of you at a loss for words until Jisung breaks the silence.
“Maybe it can?”
You give him a look, raising an eyebrow in his direction. His cheeks flush and he raises his hands in a surrender gesture, palms facing outward, “Hear me out. It doesn't have to be weird. We'd just be helping each other out. You wouldn't be horny anymore and I wouldn't be hard and in pain. You're my only hope.”
“Are you suggesting that you and I… fuck?” You ask gesturing between you both. He groans in half pain, half pleasure at your words and your face heats again matching the blush on his cheeks.
“Please? Please let me fuck you y/n. Shit I know we're friends, it won't mean anything. You'd be literally saving my life. It's torture being like this. Every twitch, every movement I make… it fucking hurts like hell.” He begs, sounding desperate.
Jisung's question hangs in the air and you find yourself unable to respond. Silence ticks on for only a few seconds but to Jisung it feels like an hour. He runs his hands through his hair in frustration and huffs.
"Fine, then," he grumbles, breaking the silence again. "Can you at least help me get into your car so we can go to the hospital then?" His voice is rough, but there's an underlying vulnerability to it.
Still you stay quiet, his pleas echoing loudly in your mind. He's begging for your help and you can't speak. You're torn between wanting to be there for him and the fear of the aftermath. It's never a good idea to sleep with a friend. God, how many times have there been movies portraying that, only for it to go wrong? Too many, that's the answer. You're already feeling things that you wish you weren't. This could ruin your friendship with Jisung. This isn't just a peck on the lips. You'll be far closer and far more intimate than you two have ever been. So your hesitation is valid but Jisung is losing his mind and panicking more than you are right now.
“What the fuck y/n? Are you really ignoring me right now? Look, I'm sorry I asked. Just forget it and hel-”
"Promise me," You cut him off, "Promise me that we'll pretend like it never happened."
"Absolutely, yes. I promise!" he agrees eagerly, his face lighting up as he reaches for the drawer in his bedside dresser.
Curious, you watch as he rummages through the drawer's content. "What are you up to now?" you ask, sounding amused despite the fact that the little voice in your head is screaming at you.
"Looking for a condom," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes when he looks over at you.
You chuckle, shaking your head. "Dude, even if you find one, it's probably expired or dried up. When was the last time you got some ass?"
"Oh yeah right, good point—wait! It hasn't been that long!" He whines.
Laughing, you playfully cover your mouth. "Uh huh, sure. Besides, you gave your last one to Chan a while ago, remember?"
“Shit, you're right. Now what?” He pouts looking disappointed.
“Just raw I guess. Don't really have a choice. We both know we're clean and I'm on the pill.” You shrug nonchalantly like the idea is whatever to you but your heart is beating a thousand beats per second and you're internally freaking out.
Jisung swallows hard, looking nervous in your direction. “You uh, you sure?”
“Yeah let's just do it before Bin and Chan get back. Shit would be really awkward if they caught us.” Your voice betrays your false confidence, shaking as nerves wrack your body.
“Yeah, good point” He replies with a nod, suddenly looking serious.
This is serious to him. This isn't exactly how he envisioned his weekend starting. Jisung's heart pounds hard, his palms sweating as he stares at you. Amidst the anxiety he's feeling about this, he's oddly happy. He feels lucky knowing you’re here willing to cross boundaries for him. Not everyone would do something like this for a friend, but you're different. You always have his back no matter what crazy mess Jisung finds himself in.
Despite the fucked-upness of it all, Jisung can't deny the excited flutter in his stomach. The thought of having sex with a friend is enough to give anyone major anxiety but he's surprised how well you both are dealing with it. Still, fear sits at the back of his mind. What if this changes everything? What if it ruins your friendship? This is a big deal. He's seen it play out in movies and dramas all the time and not once had it turned out well. He doesn't have a lot of options though. You're quite literally his only hope like he told you.
Jisung gets up carefully, giving you full access to his bed and watches you as you strip down to nothing. Embarrassment fills you as his mouth hangs open, in complete fascination and awe. He thinks you're unstoppable, the way you're confidently undressing like that. He doesn't know you want to crawl into a hole and disappear. His eyes find your breast and he mentally marvels over how hard your nipples are. He suddenly wants nothing more than to slip the peaks into his mouth and bite down on them until they're red and you're squirming under him. Your cunt calls to him like a siren, just as pretty and just as wet. His fingers itch to trace the contours of your body, to feel your skin beneath his touch. Every inch of you seems to call out to him.
Jisung shifts uncomfortably, clearing his throat as he glances towards the door. "Um, so about the lights... Do you have a preference?”
"You decide, Ji.” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, leaning back into his sheets on your forearms.
With a nod, he walks over to the door and locks it before reaching to switch off the light, enveloping the room in darkness. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust. The sun had long since disappeared, hours slipping away unnoticed in trying to find a way to help your friend. A second later, the white walls covered in music memorabilia and anime posters, glow crimson from the light of the LED Akatsuki cloud lamp you gifted him for Christmas.
“There we go.” He says lightly, his voice barely audible over the sound of your heart.
Jisung's trying his best to put you at ease, and you're grateful for it, even if it's not working. You're lying there, heart pounding like a drum, with the soft red glow of his bedroom casting shadows all around. Your breath hitches, nerves tingling as you steal a glance at him by the bedside. Your fingers toy with the sheets' edge and butterflies dance wildly in your stomach. This is risky, but you're only doing it to help him out, right? Nothing more. Yet, there's something brewing beneath the surface, something you're both feeling but haven't quite put into words or even thoughts. Not right now at least.
Jisung casually strips off his tank and tosses it onto his computer chair, standing over you. Even though you've seen him shirtless a million times, it feels different this time. Probably because the setting is more intimate. You can't help but admire the way his muscles are defined, how they seem to mold perfectly to his body. Every contour, every line, down to his slender waist, captivates you. Then, as he lowers his shorts, you find yourself holding your breath, unable to look away. He's got to be a good seven inches you think. Slightly curving upwards, angry and red with the veins ridiculously prominent. You don't even stop yourself from fantasizing about how he'd feel on your tongue. The temptation to reach out and touch him is almost overwhelming, but you hold back, afraid of what it might mean.
“Do you think you can take all of me y/n?” He asks curiously and you look up at him.
His features soften in the dim light. He looks so vulnerable, so unlike the confident guy you're used to seeing. It tugs at your heart, stirring up a mix of emotions you can't quite begin to untangle.
His question, It's not a cocky one. In fact he sounds a little bit self conscious, worried even. Like he's afraid of hurting you or causing you discomfort. As much as you try to not think of him as your best friend right now as a means of psyching yourself out, you can't. He's your sweet Hannie, he's the talented genius J.One, a rap name he created when he was 16. He's your Sungie, who sat with you when you were the new kid in middle school. He needs you… needs your help. What kind of friend would turn away from a friend in need?
"I can handle it, don't worry about me, Ji. Let's just get you back to normal, okay?" You reach out your hand towards him with a subtle tremble exposing your nervousness.
"Yeah, okay, lovely. Just... let me know if you want to stop, okay? Promise?” Jisung exhales, his breath jittery with nerves waiting for your response.
“I promise. Now just relax and fuck me.” You whisper.
“Fuck. Yeah, okay.”
He moves closer to you, placing his hand in yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity shoot through you. The worries and hesitations you had vanish, replaced by a strong need to take care of this for him, to ease his pain. You feel the heat emanating from his body as he positions himself between your legs, gazing down at you with wide eyes.
He chews on his bottom lip and wraps his hand around the base of his cock with a hiss. He's still sensitive from the pain and his recent orgasm but he lines himself up with the entrance to your core, noticing how your arousal glistens in the red lights.
“Do you normally get this wet y/n?” He asks, sounding genuinely curious tilting his head to one side.
You hide your face with your hands, inhaling deeply. It's like you're a virgin all over again and this is your first time. You're nervous out of your mind and he's asking you a question like that. He's just curious, sure, but... he's Jisung... Your pulse pounds in your ears, and you slowly lower your hands. His eyes meet yours, and you can see everything you're feeling reflected in them.
You swallow hard, “Honestly, no. I've never been this wet, Jisung. Not even for myself.” You tell him, keeping eye contact so he knows you aren't lying.
“Fuck, that's hot.” He whispers. His cock twitches and rubs along your folds. “Ah, shit.” He winces and moans at the contact, feeling his cock stiffen even more beyond his belief.
Your body jerks at the unexpected touch, causing you to inhale sharply. His fingers lightly graze the curve of your waist, as if he's afraid you might vanish at any moment. His eyes, intense and penetrating, hold yours captive and heat pools low in your belly. Jisung's touch sends a shiver all over your body when his fingertips slowly begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin. Suddenly it's hard to deny just how bad you want him.
“Han Jisung if you don't stop stalling and just fuck me, I'm getting dressed and calling Chan.” Your breath comes out in short, shallow gasps. That brush against you was too much and not enough. You want him. God, you want him so bad it's almost painful.
“Okay, okay sorry. I'm just nervous. Fuck, I feel like a virgin all over again.” He says voicing your earlier thoughts out loud, making you both laugh loudly.
It feels almost normal. Like you're not about to let sleep with your long time friend. Like he's just above you now because you were wrestling for the remote. But after the laughter subsides, Jisung gathers up his courage and pushes the tip of his cock inside you without any restrictions. You're so wet that he slides right in. You both let out a moan, the sound echoing off the walls of his room, enveloping you in an intimate bubble. In the dim light, the boundary between friendship and something more blurs, and you find yourself swept away by the growing need. Jisung can feel his heart beating harder in his chest as he loses himself to the sweet feeling of you around the tip of him. A growing need intensifies within him with every passing second. He's got just the head in and he wants to slam into and cum right now.
"More. Keep going," you whisper, your voice quiet and dripping with lust. He bites down hard and complies slightly hesitating. Slowly he pushes further inside of you.
Your fingers tremble as they brush against his arms as he steadily inch by inch presses forward getting deeper, drawing moans out of you that could be heard from Pluto. It takes all of Jisung's focus to slide his entire length into you. He didn't want to cum just from sticking the tip in. But with each thrust into your eager pussy, brings him closer to bursting inside you.
"Fuck.” He breathes out as he fully sinks into you, his hand laying over your stomach gently. With a soft sigh, he leans in, resting his other hand beside your head. You feel incredible and he's reminded of the only moment he fantasized about you. A distant memory flooding back, something he tried to push away ages ago.
You tagged along with him, Chan, and Binnie for a vacation to the beach one scorching summer. He couldn't help but notice the way you looked in that red bikini with the guitar pick pattern. The way it barely covered your tits and ass. The sight made him feel insane. He was thinking things about you that he hadn't ever before. He used the fact that he couldn't swim just to sit in the sand, secretly enjoying the sight of you splashing around in the water. Every splash, every droplet clinging to your skin, it was like a fantasy playing out before his eyes. He imagined plowing into you from behind in the shower, your breast pressed against the shower tiles as you took all of him. Every detail was vivid and intense in his mind. That night, while you peacefully slept beside him in the hotel room you shared, he couldn't shake the images from his mind. Unable to sleep due to the ache in his cock, he pumped himself into his fist while thoughts of you consumed his mind. Guilt filled him but he pushed it aside, chalking it up to normal hormonal desires. It had been years since he even had those thoughts, until now.
Now he's buried deep inside you, all because of a dumb decision to try those enhancement pills. All because he wanted a mind-blowing, toe curling, orgasm. But deep down, he's kinda grateful for messing up. With you beneath him, he can fuck you instead of his hand. It's been too long since he's fucked anyone. He wants to savor this moment, take his time feeling your walls flutter around him since this won't happen again. As the urge to cum fades, he eases out of you, leaving just the head of his cock inside and begins moving again, slowly, teasingly, watching your reaction with his mouth slightly agape. Slowly, he rocks in and out, feeling your tightness gripping him in a way he's never experienced before. It’s better than anything he's felt with his exes. He's in awe of how amazing you make him feel. With a forceful thrust, he drives himself deeper into you, pausing when you cry out in pleasure.
"Damn it, y/n, you feel amazing. Fuck, so good.” he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Can I... Can I go faster? Please, tell me I can fuck you faster, baby. Let me make you feel even better." He begs, grunting softly and shifting his hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, forcing a needy whimper from you.
You bite your lip, a rush of pleasure flooding your body as you nod in response, too overwhelmed to speak. Your breath hitches, coming in rapid gasps, and your legs tremble around him.
“Thank you, fuck.” He withdraws with a sharp pull, then eases back in hard, making you cry out. “Stop me if I'm too rough, baby. You gotta tell me sweetie. Can you do that?”
You nod, but that's not quite what he wants. Jisung wants to hear you, no, needs to hear you. His hand moves, brushing against your skin until he finds your nipple, teasingly taking it between his fingers. Your breath catches as he pinches it gently and rolls it slowly between his thumb and index finger. He feels your body react, your walls tightening around him when you whimper softly.
"Oh!" You gasp, unable to control that blissful feeling of pleasure that runs through you. He does it again, a little harder this time. The corner of his mouth lifts into a cocky grin when you arch your back.
“Yes Ji! Fuck, I'll tell you.” Your eyes close and you grip the blankets on the bed in tight hands.
“Thank you y/n. God you're the fucking, mm! You're the best. Knew only you could help me. I knew you'd take care of me.” Jisung whispers, gripping the sheets by your head tight, his fingers curling around the fabric and sliding himself back into you. The bed creaks beneath you, echoing his movements as he fucks you harder. “Knew you'd make me feel good,” He murmurs, his voice thick with sex. "Tell me, y/n, does that feel good? Does my y/n feel good because of me? Tell me baby.”
Does he always talk like this with everyone he's been with before? You wonder and you realize he's way more experienced than you imagined. The thought makes you jealous but the feeling doesn't last. Each push of his cock inside of you pushes that green eyed demon out of your mind.
His voice, smooth like honey, drips with sweetness, coating you with each word he utters. The way he speaks to you only makes you wetter and you're craving him more. He's not holding back anymore, lost in the moment where all that matters is pleasure. Yours, his… you both need more. He's not waiting for a response; he knows you're speechless, your words stuck in your throat, your silence speaking volumes. With one hand supporting himself, he cups your breast, teasing and massaging the flesh, making you squirm under him before taking your nipple into his mouth. A low, guttural moan escapes him, reverberating through you body. You moan passionately, feeling the heat of his tongue against your skin. When he gently bites the hard peaks of your nipple your body arches into him and your left hand cradles his head.
Jisung inhales deeply, and your scent envelops him, drawing him in with its intoxicating allure. "Damn, you smell so good," Jisung murmurs, a soft smile playing on his lips and his heart literally skips a beat in his chest.
He swore nothing would change, but his heart rebels against that weak promise. Every day, he'll crave you more. Every glance, every touch will only intensify the want for you. The need to have you will only grow stronger. Your hands are all over him now, leaving invisible imprints that seem to penetrate straight to his heart. He finds himself addicted to your nails grazing his skin, the way your fingers weave through his hair, pulling him in closer to you with each tug.
Feeling his body pressing against yours, every movement sends waves of pleasure through you. Your hips respond to him, moving in sync and the sensation of his cock against your sweet spot makes you gasp softly. With each grind, the warmth grows blazing inside you. Jisung pauses, his lips leaving your nipple, and gazes down at you, his tousled hair framing his face in a way that makes him look irresistible in this moment. There's a silent shift between you that makes it harder to breathe.
"Close, aren't you, y/n?" he pants, a teasing grin playing on his lips. Something inside you explodes and a surge of electricity courses through you. It's not just the impending climax that has your insides uncoiling; but from that look he gives you. It's overwhelming in the best way possible. You feel like you're free falling through the clouds.
"Almost, Ji. So close," You breathe out softly.
"Yeah, baby, me too," He murmurs, his words laced with urgency. “I need you to come first. I'm gonna pull out." You shake your head and cling to him tighter, not wanting him to stop.
"Cum inside me, Sungie. Just keep going. Harder, Ji. Right there. Fuck!" Your voice grows louder with each word.
"Are you sure, y/n?" he asks, and when you nod, he grins at you. "Gonna give you all of me, baby. Fill you up real good. Gonna make a mess." He trails off with a soft curse. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he adds, his voice becoming more raw, his desire evident in every breath. "You feel so good, y/n. So fucking good."
Jisung's hips buck wildly, thrusting faster and you scream his name, pleading with him to not stop, to not hold back, to fill you up. He's trembling, his breath coming out in ragged grunts as he pounds his cock into you, driving deeper with every thrust. Your body tenses up, and you manage to gasp out that you're about to cum just before it hits you like a tidal wave. And when it hits, fuck, it's like fireworks go off behind your eyelids. The most explosive sensation you've ever experienced.
“Gah, y/n! keep cumming, just like that. Y/n, you're gonna make me cum. So tight. Yeah, keep squeezing me with your pussy. I'm gonna cum. Oh, fuck, oh fuck, I'm cumming baby." He moans, his voice strained with pleasure.
You feel it deep when Jisung cums. It jets out in spurts forcefully, filling you and the sensation rips another unexpected orgasm from you. His thrusts slows to a gentle pace, guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm until your muscles relax around him. With a shudder, he finally stills, collapsing onto you panting, his weight supported by his forearms. Cupping your face in his hand, he looks down at you with a mix of satisfaction and longing in his eyes that makes you feel indescribable.
Your soft moans and the way you're clinging on to him, gives him a different sort of pleasure. Just knowing he's the one making you feel good, is a heady feeling, one that makes him want to hold onto this moment longer. But it's done and over now and he feels disappointed that such an amazing feeling, like being nestled inside of you, won't happen again.
Jisung's heart is pounding in his chest as he moves his face closer to you. His impulses taking over, "Can I kiss you?" he breathes out, voice shaky looking down at you.
You give a hesitant nod, feeling suddenly shy despite what just happened between you two, and he leans in to press his lips against yours. It's gentle, soft, sweeter than you expected. He doesn't use his tongue, unsure if you'd even want him to but he couldn't resist the urge to kiss you. The way you looked up at him, so pretty with those heavy lids and his cum dripping out of you… he just had to taste your lips, just once.
When he goes to pull away, you grab onto him, pulling him back and deepening the kiss. Your lips part, inviting him to explore you with his tongue, which he eagerly does. Your muscles tighten, and you realize his cock, which had been softening earlier, is now growing harder inside you. You gasp, intending to let him know it worked but before you can, he starts moving again and your gasp turns into moaning. There's no need for you two to keep having sex now that his erection can go away but you don't stop him. This time it's not just about relieving his pain or a means to an end, it's about something more. You both feel it, the change that he promised wouldn't happen, only you don't seem to care. No, you encourage Jisung to keep moving, to go deeper. You part your legs for him even more, letting him have all of you and surrender to the feelings pulsing through your body. It's all so new, these intense emotions you've developed for him.
Jisung's movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust unhurried. His cock slips out leisurely only to ease back in, a rhythm that makes you ache for more. More speed, more friction, more everything. You want to beg him to move faster, but the intensity of his stare leaves you feeling tongue-tied. In this moment, you're the epitome of beauty to him. Your unfocused gaze, your neediness, it's all so intoxicating, urging Jisung to continue his languid movements. He watches as your eyes struggle to focus, blinking several times before locking onto him once more and he loves it. It's as if each blink only deepens the desire he has for you.
He’s amazed that you're letting him continue to fuck you, even though there's no real reason to keep going. But damn, your body has him hooked already. You're spoiling him for any other girl he might end up with, unless... No, he won't let himself go there. He can't think of you as his, not after the promise he made. Still, he craves more of you in every possible way. Jisung's body trembles as he enters you, feeling your muscles tighten around him, and it brings a grin to his face knowing he can coax another orgasm out of you. He wonders how many can say they were able to make you cum multiple times. Did they take care of you like him? He thinks cockily. With a grunt that mingles with your soft moans, he thrusts harder, pushing deeper into you, feeling the tightness around his cock. It's a rhythm of in and out, urging his cock deeper, with nowhere to go.
Did any of your past hookups take their time like this? Fucking you nice and slow, or were they all just in it for a quick nut? Not Jisung, though. He could never, would never just fuck you for his own satisfaction. Your pleasure matters to him. It's what does it for him. He gets off on seeing you lose control because of him, on making you feel good. He doesn't even need to be buried deep inside your cunt to cum. He'd cum in his pants again fingering you or while you rode his face. Just the thought of you cumming on his face is enough to make him explode right now. The sounds you make, your touch, they're his undoing. That's why he came so hard earlier when all you did was caress his knee. He knows that now.
He's finding it impossible to hold back anymore, despite wanting you to cum first. He can't though, not when you gently place your hand on his cheek. That simple touch pushes him over the edge, and he pours himself into you with a raw moan, unable to control himself any longer. His legs shake, his toes curl, and he experiences an intense orgasm, far beyond what he had hoped the pill would give him. But it's not the pill—it's you. He knows it's you.
Watching Jisung cum inside you for the second time, you feel yourself reaching your own orgasm. With soft gasps, your cunt shudders around him. The look on Jisung's face when he cums is easily becoming addicting to you now. You could probably cum just by that look alone. It's like he's lost in the moment, completely taken over by pleasure. His face scrunches up, brows knitting together, round cheeks puffing out with each deep exhale.
You both lie there catching your breaths, quiet and completely still. His cock's still buried inside you, keeping you close. Your eyes lock, taking in every little detail of each other's faces while you both catch your breath. He could stay like this forever, your pussy snug around his cock, and he would've. Only if the sudden sound of the front door swinging open and Changbin shouting about pizza didn't burst that private bubble. It startles you both. So much so that Jisung jerks out of you with a loud pop and scrambling to his feet, making you squeal in surprise.
"Shit, do you think they heard that, Ji?" you whisper hastily pulling his sheets over your body. He shoots you a glance from across the room, a grin spreading across his face. He loves that post sex afterglow radiating from you. You've never looked hotter than you do right now, all sprawled out and naked in his bed.
“Nah, I think we're okay for now. They might just think we're taking a nap like we usually do after binge watching something.” He tells you. “We should probably get dressed in case though.” You nod and when you go to get out of the bed, he stops you. “Wait, lay back. It's my mess, let me clean it up. It's the least I can do for you.”
"Alright..." you murmur, settling back onto the bed with the blanket draped over your chest, your legs parting invitingly for Jisung. Your eyes drift to the ceiling, as you await his touch, but he hesitates. "Ji, what's—"
Your words catch in your throat as you feel the brush of his hair against your thighs and his mouth on you. "Oh, God, Ji. Fuck, that's not what I had in mind," You gasp out just as he flicks his tongue over your clit.
He glances up at you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips, his lips glistening with a mixture of your shared juices. "Do you want me to stop, baby? I've got the towel right here," he offers, his tone teasing.
Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, pleasure pooling low in your belly. "No, don't stop," you urge softly, your voice laced with need. "Keep going. Please.”
You collapse onto the bed, feeling his head sink between your thighs. His lips and teeth graze your inner thigh, and you bite the sheets that are tightly balled up in your hands, trying to stifle any noises that might alert Chan and Changbin. When Jisung plunges his hot tongue inside of you, eating his cum and yours from your cunt like it's a five star gourmet meal, you almost let out the most pornographic sounding moan from the twirling motion of his tongue. You grab a pillow with quick hands covering your mouth so that it muffles your moans and cries.
He makes quick work in giving you another orgasm with that wicked tongue of his. You would've gladly returned the favor too if he didn't already cum in the towel that was supposed to be used for you. His mouth stayed locked on your clit while he moaned and pumped his cock into the towel. The vibration of his lips making you forget all about that thing you keep stashed in your bedside drawer at home. Yeah, Jisung eating your pussy like he was starving definitely didn't need to happen either but you're not complaining.
After getting dressed and making sure Chan and Changbin wouldn't notice anything odd, you and Jisung joined the duo and settled in for pizza, beer, and a movie. The TV casts a soft glow as some suspenseful action movie plays, but your mind is elsewhere, lost in a different kind of fantasy world. It's like your minds are synced, both drifting away from the movie. You and Jisung steal glances at each other in the dark living room, only to quickly look away.
Countless times he's caught you looking back in the direction of his room with a blush on your cheeks. He's hard just knowing that you're thinking about what happened and he wonders if you can still feel him like he can feel you. He just wants to say fuck the movie, to grab you by your wrist and drag you back to his room and fuck you again. He was actually worried that you would go through with the promise of pretending like sleeping together didn't happen but sometimes, in this case anyway, promises can be broken.
#han jisung smut#skz smut#han jisung x you#stray kids smut#han jisung drabbles#han jisung imagines#han smut#han x reader#han jisung fanfic#han jisung fanfiction#han jisung hard hours#han jisung hard thoughts#han jisung oneshot#han jisung x reader#han jisung x y/n#Han Jisung skz smut
392 notes
·
View notes
Text
You still want me? (Patrick Zweig)
Description: Even after 13 years Patrick still wants her.
Warning: Smut
Word Count:2,288k
Y/N laughed at Patrick’s pathetic attempts to sleep with her. He tried every second he could. Art was always weirded out by it and gave him a look. Sure, Y/N was hot but she wasn’t an object for sex and that’s what Art thought that Patrick thought of her. Y/N rolled her eyes as they sat in their hotel room drinking. “Patrick, that was weak.” “Yeah, really.” Patrick glared at his best friend, “Like you could do better?” He asked, Art nodded. “I very well could but I have a girlfriend that I love so.” Patrick flipped him off and turned back to Y/N, “So where were we?” She laughed at his question. “You were trying to fuck me, I am trying to relax.” “Well I could help you relax more.”
These weak attempts to sleep with her went on for years. Art and Tashi rolled their eyes as he said anything and everything he could to convince her. She never said No but she never said yes either. She ended up going to a different college than Art and Tashi and since Patrick didn’t go to college he never saw her. It wouldn’t be until Patrick and Art were in the challengers that he would see her again. Tashi invited her as a surprise. Sure Art and Patrick were facing one another but they were still friends.
And Tashi knew how bad Patrick wanted her. Y/N was still super hot and even more mature now that 10 years have gone by. Y/N walked through the doors of the hotel that Tashi sent her. It was a nice one, a very nice one. She looked around and saw Tashi by the elevator. She gasped and waved as Tashi waved back just as excited. Y/N ran over to her and gave her a big hug, “Oh I missed you.” “I missed you too.” After their little moment they got in the elevator. “So how’s everything been?” Tashi asked. Y/N smiled and looked at her, “Pretty good.” “Have a boyfriend?” Y/N laughed at the question and shook her head No.
Tashi thought that was perfect especially for Patrick. As the exited the elevator to her room Y/N asked her, “So does he still talk about me?” Referring to Patrick. Tashi smiled, “Here and there. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.” Y/N smiled at the thought. She kinda missed all his horrible ways of trying to sleep with her. “They are currently practicing. Settle in some and we will go down there.” Tashi said.
They walked to the court were the two boys or now men practiced. Y/N smiled as Art came into view. He still looked the same, just shorter hair and more muscle. She then saw Patrick and dear god she couldn’t believe it. He had facial hair now and damn did he look good. Tashi and Y/N stood by the seats watching them. They hadn’t noticed that they were watching them until Tashi cheered, “Go Art!” “Go Patrick!” Y/N yelled and Patrick looked over at her and froze. “Y/N?” He whispered in shock. Y/N waved at him, he totally missed the ball and Art would have gotten the point. Art looked over and smiled at Y/N.
They both walked over to the ladies, “What are you doing here?” He asked, so happy to see her. “I came to watch you guys play.” He smiled at her words. “You two should catch up, Art and I are going to go.” Tashi said, dragging Art away. That was her plan the entire time. Get them alone and see where it goes. “So you wanna go over to the bar and catch up?” He asked. She nodded and smiled.
“So this is what you’ve been up to all these years?” She asked, he nodded. “Yup. Just Tennis.” “Sounds awesome. Art and you against each other? That’s going to be crazy.” She said, “ Yeah but you’ll be rooting for me.” He joked. She laughed and sat her drink down. “Maybe. How would your girlfriend feel about that?” He chuckled, “I don’t have a girlfriend.” Her jaw dropped. “What?” He asked, she shook her head. “You look like that and you don’t have a girlfriend?” “Look like what?” “Hot.” She motioned to him.
“You look hot.” God his younger self would be freaking out right now. Who was he kidding? He was freaking out now. “You think I'm hot?” He asked, scooting closer to her. “You’ve always been hot.” She said, looking at him. “Then how come you never slept with me?” He asked. She shrugged, “You just didn't have game.” She laughed. “What if I have game now?” She picked up her drink and took a sip of it without breaking eye contact. “You still want me? After all these years?” She asked. “Are you kidding me? Of course I do. A change of heart was never in my plans.” She turned to him, “Then I guess I’d have to sleep with you Patrick.” She said softly.
He walked her back to her hotel room that Tashi gladly paid for. She turned towards the man and smiled, “This is me.” She said and he chuckled. He turned towards her, “Just like old times, eh?” She laughed and shook her head. He always used to walk her to her room and then try to sleep with her as if he wasn’t already on the way to the room. “Pretty much.” He looked down and Y/N’s face dropped.
He hadn’t tried to sleep with her yet and it bugged her. She actually would right now. “Patrick.” She whispered. He looked up at her. “Come inside.” She told him. As soon as she got the door open he picked her up and turned her around, making her gasp. He pinned her up against the door. She stared at him wide eyed as he stared back. Her breathing started to pick up, her heart started beating. He leaned in slowly causing her eyes to wander towards his lips until they touched hers.
She kissed back and it felt amazing. Her hands wrapped themselves around his head and laced through his hair. He deepened the kiss, pushing her more against the door. Their lips moved against each other until the air ran out of their lungs. But even then when he pulled away her lips followed wanting more of the kiss. “Patrick, please.” She whispered. He smirked, happy that he finally had her right where he wanted. Her legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer to her. He chuckled and kissed her again.
He moved her away from the door and on the bed. They broke apart from the kiss again, this time to remove clothes. It was like they couldn’t get their clothes off fast enough. He pushed her down on the bed once they were bare. She fell back and looked up at him. He smirked as he ran his fingers up her legs to her thighs. Her breathing picked up as he neared her pussy. He decided to tease her and not touch her where she wants, no needs him. “Patrick, don't tease me.” She whined. “Oh I can’t tease you but you’ve been teasing me for the past 10 years?” He asked with a fake pout. She huffed out as he smirked.
That damn smirk, it was so sexy and perfect. He finally dragged a finger up her slit, causing her to moan. “Oh that sound was perfect.” He said and did it again. She moaned again. He decided that he wanted to hear more of her moans so he stopped teasing her and began rubbing her clit. The sweet moans fell from her lips as he toyed with her. Her hips lifting up trying to get more of his touch. He chuckled as he watched her do so. He got on his knees and decided he wanted to taste her. She felt his breath on her pussy making her lean up on her elbows to see what he was doing. He gave her his famous smirk before he gave her slit a big lick.
She gasped at the feeling of his tongue on her and that encouraged him to continue. Her hands laced through his hair as he ate her out. He was really good at it but he’s been with so many women so that didn’t surprise her. He felt like he had died and gone to heaven. This was his dream and it was coming true. “You taste so fucking good. Better than anything i’ve ever had.” He groaned. Her whines and moans got louder as the vibrations of his words went to her core. “Patrick.” She moaned loudly. He loved the sound of her voice especially with his name falling from her lips. When she came, it was a lot and all over his face. He lapped it up like a puppy dog.
She had to push his face away from how sensitive she was getting. Once she calmed herself from her orgasm she opened her eyes to see the man with a smirk and his face wet from her juices. She leaned up to his face and kissed him, moaning at the taste on his lips. His beard was wet with her but he didn’t mind one bit. Without breaking the kiss he crawled over her and hooked one of her legs over his hip. She gasped against his lips as she felt his dick run up against her clit. “I want you to beg for me to be inside of you like all those years I begged to be inside of you.” He said against her lips before moving down to her neck. She moaned lightly as he sucked on her. Her breathing is still not steady from her orgasm.
“Patrick please I want you inside of me.” She said, he hummed against her and pulled away. “I said beg not tell me.” He told her. She whined at the need for him to be inside of her. “Please Patrick, I want your big dick inside of me.” She begged, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “You can do better than that. Even I did.” She wanted to roll her eyes but held that back to beg him once again. Once again it just didn’t work causing him to laugh. Of course he wanted to be inside of her but he wanted her to want him just as much as he wanted her. “Patrick I want you inside of me so bad. I need it. I’ve always needed it ever since I've met you. Patrick please.” She whined. “Perfect.” He said before pushing inside of her. She moaned loudly. He was big, bigger than any other guy she’s been with. He cupped her face, “You feel fucking amazing baby. I’m right where I belong.” He tells her as he starts thrusting.
His words and praises made her wetter. So wet that you could hear it. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling of this moment. That was a mistake because the second he closed his eyes she flipped them over and now she was on top riding him. He let out a moan as he saw her tits bouncing. “So you wanted me to beg just for you to fuck me like that?” She asked. “I wanted you to fuck me Patrick, fuck me like you’ve waited 10 years for this pussy.” She said. “I have.” He groaned out. Her on top actually made this a lot better for him. He leaned up and shoved his face in her tits and she rode him.
Both of them making their own noises of pleasure. The feeling of his beard on her nipple tickled but she loved it. Her hands moved to his head to hold him there. She threw her head back and enjoyed the moment. It wasn’t that much time before she was clenching around him like crazy. He pulled away from her tits to look at her face. She opened her eyes to look at him. “Are you close?” He asked through a groan. She nodded and whined. “Yes.” “I want to watch you fall apart.” He told her. She whined at his words and her breathing picked up. She was so close to the edge.
He leaned back and laid down as he watched her fall apart. Her jaw dropped and she cried out cries of his name as he felt her drench his cock. Her eyes rolled back and her hips stuttered. She looked so fucked out and so beautiful. “Fuck.” He breathed out. She was still riding him, helping him reach his orgasm. He wasn’t a noisy guy during sex but she was making it hard. “Why are you holding back? You sound hot Patrick.” She told him, running her fingers down his chest. He started twitching inside of her. “Give it to me Patrick. Let go for me.” She said and he did what she told him to. He whined her name as he came inside of her.
She let him ride out his orgasm before she collapsed next to him. Both of them panting and sweating. He chuckled and looked over at her, “What’s so funny?” She asked. “I just fucked my dream girl.” “Well she fucked you.” Y/N pointed out. “Either way.” She turned towards him and smiled. “So now that you’ve fucked your dream girl, what’s next?” He pulled her closer, “I plan to wife her up.” He said and she smiled. “Your dream girl could get down with that.” She said to him with a laugh. He leaned in and kissed her, remembering to thank Tashi later for this experience.
#challengers movie#challengers 2024#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig smut#patrick zweig imagine#patrick zweig x you#tashi duncan#art donaldson#mike faist#josh o'connor#zendaya
186 notes
·
View notes
Text
—BLIND DATE
starring.ᐟ katsuki bakugou x reader
synopsis.ᐟ “a social engagement or date with a person one has not previously met.” After neglecting his personal life for so long, Pro-hero Dynamight, also known as Katsuki Bakugou, can no longer run form the inevitable. With the help of his nosy parents, Katsuki ends up on a blind date with you.
warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, pro hero!katsuki, first blind date, drinking, fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, overstimulation, creampie, biting, marking, hair pulling, pet names (excessive use of princess), slight man handling, bakugou is a softie at heart, praise, slight softdom!katsuki, breeding
word count.ᐟ 4.8k words
m.mutt 𐂯 please enjoy my brainrot!!
KATSUKI Bakugou was known for many things. His boisterous personality. His bulky, intimidating stature. His impressive and powerful quirk. His less than family-friendly language and his hatred of paparazzi.
You would think being in the spotlight since 15, he would be used to it at this point. Maybe even indulge from time to time but, it’s never been his thing. He makes that fact well-known, constantly. Written and spoken interviews, press conferences, and award ceremonies, he will remind everyone to mind their own business. Especially when it comes to his personal life.
New photos and videos always arrive of the hero, dressed in alleged disguise, flipping off and yelling at the paparazzi. Especially when they get too close to his family and friends. One of his most iconic videos is of his poor father attempting to calm down both his large, rowdy son and his equally rowdy, yet smaller wife.
This strong distaste for the prying eyes and cameras belonging to paparazzi, unfortunately, takes a hard toll on his love life.
Their obsession with publicizing his entire life has forced his hand in many situations. That and the exclusive life he is now forced to lead. One of the biggest downsides of being a hero is the increase in difficulty in your love life.
These few relationships he’s had have all ended one of two ways.
One, in a ball of fury and tears. As a pro hero, Katsuki is often spotted with many people. Typically, people he knows. In bars and restaurants, caught conversating and drinking. Those candid moments are always being televised, even without his knowledge.
Suddenly, his after-work drink with a few friends is skewed and Dynamight is allegedly dating pro-hero Uravity. Resulting in arguments and watching as his partners stormed away.
Two, the spark simmers out. Coming home to put on a front feels exhausting as the days tick by, they both know it. It’s only inevitable until someone’s bags are packed. They’ll cry, holding hands on his couch as he speaks. They’ll go for a hug, only to realize now isn’t the time and leaving is the better option. Soon his apartment is quiet again, leaving him alone.
All of it has turned him away from the dating scene. He’s young and green, with plenty of time to settle down. Except, the consistent pestering from peers, fans, and his own parents is draining. Balancing his hero life, personal and love life all at the same time, was nearly impossible.
“I’m not going out with some chick you designed a dress for!”
“Just give it a try, you brat.”
Katsuki groans, his head rolling back at Mitsuki’s pestering. They were currently sitting in his childhood kitchen, eating brunch as they usually did on Sundays. “You have no idea, you could find the love of your life!” His father chimed in, attempting to add support.
“Maybe you’ll finally give me a grandkid.” Katsuki cringes, shaking his head at his mother’s words. “Look, as your parents we just want what’s best for our little boy. Even if you’re a hulking mountain a man now.”
“I think you should give it a try, she was a sweet girl too. Very well mannered.” Masaru pipes up in Katsuki’s silence.
“Look, just give it a shot. I’ll give you her number and you two can work things out. If things don’t work out you can always try again.” She sips at her hot tea, eyes fluttering shut due to the steam.
“And if I say no?”
“Why do you have to be so incredibly difficult?” Mitsuki scolds as he swirls his spoon in his tea. “Why do you have to be so incredibly annoying?” He muttered followed by a swift pop to the head.
“Ow! Shit!”
That’s how he ended up in this high-end lounge, awaiting a random woman his parents vouched for. He nursed a glass of whiskey, looking over their messages on his phone. Their conversation was rather bland, nothing incredibly enticing but, everyone doesn’t connect over text.
After some time, from his spot at the bar, he sends her another text. It’s only fifteen minutes, there could be traffic. He closes the messenger, choosing to scroll through his social media feed. Occasionally, he lifted his head scanning the area.
It wasn’t a quiet night, the place was bustling with conversation and laughter. Twenty minutes late.
He sent another text.
Everyone is secluded in their worlds, eating snacks and conversing with their loved ones. Their loud conversations exceeded the confinements of their seats. Katsuki was growing impatient.
Thirty minutes late. He’s already attempted to call, being sent straight to voicemail. Was this a joke? Had his parents set him up for some reason?
Glowering red eyes linger across the bar, noticing a figure he had seen earlier. Dressed in a sleek, black dress and nursing a martini between manicured nails. And another text.
Each time he looked in search of his alleged date, his eyes wandered back over to you. Watching as you pitifully looked around, maybe in search of someone like him. His eyes shut as he grimaced watching you pout. Your full, glossed lips jutted out with sadness.
He goes to pick up his phone and sends another message before, shutting the device off. Nearly an hour and a half late, he wasn’t that desperate to pester someone who didn’t care.
“Excuse me.” He calls the bartender. It didn’t seem like this mystery woman would be appearing any time soon so, might as well take a chance. “Lady at the end of the bar,” He gestured toward you. “Another of what’s she’s having, from me.” The man nods, heading off to prepare the new drink.
Katsuki grins seeing your reaction. Confusion washed over your face for a moment before you were directed towards him. Eyes locking for the first time that night. You smile and wave, he reciprocates nonchalantly.
Soon, his whiskey is finished and another is placed before him. “From the lady.” The bartender smiles, pointing his gaze to you once more. You raise your glass in solidarity, your beautiful smile still on display. He raises his glass, as a sort of distant cheers, taking a swig right away.
He watches as your gaze falls to the background, peering around the dim bar before you rise from your seat. Katsuki anxiously shifted in his seat, unsure of where you were going but, his anxiety didn’t settle as you stride over to him.
“Hi.” One word and he’s hooked. Your melodic voice wrapping itself around his brain and heart. “Hey, care to sit?” He offers the seat beside him. “Gladly.” You’re nervous, curt responses give you away along with the slight tremble in your hand.
“What are you doin’ here, beautiful?” He’s starting bold, liquid courage providing him strength. “I was supposed to be on a date. He hasn’t shown.” He ashamedly smirks. “Funny enough, I got stood up too.” He down the rest of his drink.
“What’s your name?” You answer sweetly, a bright smile on your face. He shared it, almost subconsciously. “I’m Bakugou Katsuki—“
“I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. I’m surprised everyone is being so calm right now honestly.” You laugh and his heart skipped a beat, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while.
“Places like these are used to seeing pros, they get over it.” He replies, leaning against the bar top. “Not every day one-half of the wonder duo walks through those doors.” You reason, a smug smirk on your face as if knowing you’d won.
“Touché.” You giggle, a sweet sound he yearns to hear again. “Did you enjoy your martini?”
“It was delicious. Thank you, again.” Well-mannered and gorgeous. “Anything for a pretty girl like you.” You flush, thanking him profusely. He orders you both another round, choosing to carry on the conversation.
As you two spoke he fell deeper and deeper into infatuation. “I’m the newest assistant for your friend, Chargebolt. This is only my third month at the agency and I’m tired.” You sip at your drink. “Really? Been so busy I haven’t had a chance to make the trip. Can’t be an easy job though, knowin’ Kaminari.”
“It’s not the most difficult task in the world but, I do have to keep my eye on him like a toddler.” You share a laugh at the comparison.
The conversation shifts to your personal lives. Lamenting on your lack of a love life, work beginning to consume your free time. How your close friends and family have urged you to get out of your shell. Which led to this night.
His hand lays over yours as he showers you with compliments. Deflecting anytime your humble attitude attempted to shut him down. He complimented your dress, you tried to brush him off claiming that the piece was old and unflattering.
“Well, I think that dress is absolutely stunning.” His hand grasps yours, and you reciprocate. “I should know, my ma’s a designer.” He’s almost smug in saying that as if his association with a designer made him the judge of all fashion.
“I’m aware, I’ve browsed her catalog since I was little.” The way your eyes light up talking about particular garments his mother fashioned that she always dreamed of owning. “I think you’d look gorgeous in just about anything.”
“Are you flirting with me Katsuki Bakugou?”
The question hangs in the air for a moment. The two of you leaning into each other's spaces unknowingly. He could smell your sweet perfume from her, the scent filling his senses. “I am, is that alright?”
“It is.” Your eyes flicker down to his lips as you lick your own before sitting back in your seat. Katsuki’s already hooked, still leaning into your space as if entranced by you. He leans back, stuck in an unfamiliar haze of attraction.
That haze seemed to slow the time as he checked his watch seeing he had been chatting with you for nearly four hours. It was dark outside, patrons still lingering in the lounge.
“Hey, it’s getting late.”
“Is there anything I can get you? A ride home? Maybe a nightcap?” The last part was slightly rushed as if he were embarrassed. “A nightcap sounds good, I’m off tomorrow anyway.” The wink you give him doesn’t go unnoticed making his stomach tighten. “Excuse me, can I close our tabs?”
“You don’t have to.”
“Please, let me. Besides that jerk should’ve been here paying anyway.” You sit in silence as he closes you both out of the night and thank him as he helps you to your feet. Bakugou drapes his big coat over your shoulders, holding out a hand which you graciously take.
The contrast of the warmth of the bar and the chilly night air flushes your cheeks. You’re thankful to the hero for his warm coat. “Your hands are really warm.” You mutter as you both stride down the sidewalk.
Katsuki’s notices before you. The stares. People turn to whisper to each other as he walks beside you. Soon, there are flashes and cheers of his name. He rolls his eyes out of annoyance, holding onto your hand tighter as he moves faster. “Can ya’ keep up, princess?”
A small swarm of fans and paparazzi crowd the couple, snapping photos and begging for an interview. He barks orders at them to leave you alone, keeping your face obscured from their ravenous gaze. You blindly follow, rather unphased by the crowd around you.
Before you, a sleek, exquisite sports car sat with flashing headlights. Katsuki opens the passenger door, still blocking you from view as he helps you inside. Once the door is shut, you’re concealed by his dark tint. “Can’t you guys just fuck off, for one night?” It was a rhetorical question, more to himself than the people around him.
He waves at fans along the street, ignoring the money-hungry reporters behind him as he opens his own door and settles into his vehicle.
“I’m so sorry.” He’s met with a soft laugh and a gentle touch to his hand. “Katsuki, I’m used to it. This is a part of my job too, I’m just more behind the scenes.”
“They’re just invasive,” The card engine roars to life, vibrating the interior. “Almost predatory. Going any length for a snippet of gossip.” He groans, leaning his messy blond head against the leather seats. “Bakugo—“ - “Katuski.” He speaks over you.
His head lulls to the side, his full attention on you. “Katsuki. I appreciate all you’ve done tonight.” Plump glossed lips upturned into a smile that melts his heart. “Consider it a late welcoming gift. You’re lucky, I usually send assistants gift cards to a spa.”
You both laugh, a break between the growing tension filling the cramped space of his car as you hold eye contact. His tongue darts to lick his chapped lips, teeth barely grazing the skin before he clears his throat and looks away.
“You sure you still wanna go back to mine?” He asks, buckling his seatbelt and you do the same. “Yeah, it’s just one drink.”
One drink.
Just one drink.
The phrase repeated in his mind almost the entire time. Your voice disrupting his thoughts the only thing keeping him from being completely silence. He drives you to his building. A large, clean structure. Covered in windows, and lights, and well decorated.
You don’t even need to enter the lobby. Katsuki leads you to an elevator activated with a special keycard.
After a short trip, the doors open to this grand place.
You find yourself in awe as you walk through his front hall. His apartment was massive and spotless yet, homey. Although he clearly preferred a more modernized look, it still managed to have the charm and personality of his childhood home.
“This place is ten times bigger than my apartment.” Katsuki laughs, taking his coat from you and hanging it beside the door. “I want to downsize, this was an impulse buy from when I first started. A financial disaster is what I refer to it as.” You giggle, he swoons.
The blond guides you to his kitchen, pulling out a stool for you to sit in at the island. “Are you hungry? I can whip something up.” He offers. “I thought I was just here for a nightcap, not dinner.” You joke, settling down in your seat.
“Well, I like a nice snack when I drink and a lady always deserves a nice dinner on the first date.”
“This is a date now?” You quirk a brow, still rather unsure of what to make of this evening.
“Wasn’t it always? We both had shitty dates who stood us up, we just found each other instead.”
“Yeah, then I guess it is.” You bat your lashes as silence falls over the kitchen for a moment. Katsuki clears his throat and smiles, moving away to gather something to eat. “What’re you making?” You ask seeing as he stands before the fridge. “Nothing.”
“Fresh bow of fruit, put it together today. I can get some crackers and wine, that work for you?” You nod.
“Could you grab the bottle off the counter? Don’t worry about a screw I’ve got one.” You help yourself to sort of peruse his kitchen, taking in little bits of his taste from the pictures and decor before returning the bottle to him.
Katsuki pops the bottle, pouring you both half glasses. You cheers, taking the first drink together and savoring the sweet taste. “I didn’t expect you to like sweet wines.”
“I indulge from time to time, besides it was a gift from my ma.”
“Aww, Dynamight the mama’s boy.” You giggle, grabbing a fresh strawberry and popping it into your mouth. “Oh hush, she gets these kinds of things for free and knows I’ll actually use them.” He’s close, using his elbows to lean on the counter.
“So don’t always do this?” You can smell his cologne.
“Do what?” He can smell your perfume.
“Being pretty girls to your apartment.” The scents colliding are an intoxicating concoction.
“Only pretty girls I like.” A strawberry is held cautiously between his fingertips, held between your space. “You like me, Katsuki?” A rather silly question on your part, he wouldn’t do this for just anyone.
“I do, princess.” He slowly bites into the juicy fruit, keeping his eyes on you.
The sudden bass and rap of his voice along with the intense eye contact fill you with a sudden wave of heat. The facade of small talk became harder to keep up.
It wasn’t long before Katsuki was brazen enough to lean over the counter and press his lips against yours. Your glasses of wine are soon abandoned, sloppily making out as you sit on his pristine countertop. He stood between your legs, hands crawling across your back and hips as you pant into each other mouths.
Soon, you’re both stumbling down his spacious corridor and into his dimly lit bedroom. He lets you go, turning to close the door as you take in your surroundings. Once the door is shut his attention is back to you, frantic hands roaming over each other skin, pulling at the almost offensive fabrics that keep your bodies apart.
Your clothes are eventually scattered among his own on the bedroom floor as Katsuki gently lowers your naked bodies into his fresh sheets. Cradling your head as he brushes his lips along your jaw and neck. You shiver under his touch, calloused hands running along your soft skin, cupping your breast, and rolling your hardening nipples.
You mewl under his touch, legs squeezing his hips to keep him in place. His teeth nip at your jaw, lowering to nip and suck marks into the skin of your neck. Your hips buck against each other, his hardening cock jumping against your dripping cunt.
It was becoming too much. you whine, pulling his attention away from your neck.
“What’s wrong, princess?” His words are followed by more gentle kisses. “Want you, ‘suki.” you pout, eyes watering dramatically. “You want more, baby?” You nod, lips still stuck in a pathetic-looking pout. His right hand moves to your jaw, pinching the bone between a few, thick fingers.
“Use your words.” His voice is strong, and commanding. Yet, loving and soft. “I want more, ‘suki.” He smiles at your muffled words and presses a wet kiss onto your puckered lips. “I’ll give you more then, princess.”
Your jaws sore when he lets go, the feeling of his fingers still remnant in their wake. Your legs fall slack as the blond kisses down your torso, from the valley of your breast to the bottom of your navel. He follows the trail back up and down once more, staring you in the eye.
His eyes shift down for a moment, a wolfish grin forming on his face. “You’re dripping, baby.” He cooes making your skin flush. another whine leaves your throat as you tear your gaze away, trying to focus on the ceiling above you. “No no, look at me.”
“Good. Look at me, baby.” His right hand moves from rubbing at your hips, to gently caressing your skin until his thumb lands on your clit. Your thighs quiver at the sudden contact, your gaze locked on him. Thumb lowers to collect the juices from your cunt, making a show as he brings the digit to his mouth to taste you.
You’re infatuated with the godly figure before you. His pale skin glistens with sweat, muscles unintentionally flexed as he lewdly moans around his fingers at your taste. “‘s so good, princess. You taste so fuckin’ good.”
He makes of show of it, wickedly at your already blissed-out appearance. “So damn sweet, soakin’ my sheets.”
Your eyes follow him as he descends between your legs once more, harshly biting the plump skin before soothing it with kisses.
You’re so caught in your own pleasure, the shock of his fingers prodding your cunt forces a gasp. His free hand moves your thighs onto his shoulders as he stares you down. “Can I?”
One thick finger breaches your cunny slowly, gently pushing in before pulling out. He follows the motions a few times, watching as you gush around his finger. Soon, another is added. Carefully, thrusting into your pussy as he presses kisses to your clit.
You writhe at his ministrations, fighting to keep your eyes focused on the man before you.
He sets a slow and mind-numbing pace, slowly thrusting in and out. The sounds of your slick coating his fingers and your breath moans a chorus to him.
“Yeah? Feel good, princess?” He teases, gaze fixed upon your pleasure-ridden face. Your mouth is agape as strained moans are pulled from your aching chest. He was breaking you apart in two fingers, stretching you open and preparing you for his cock.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight. Gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy, baby? ‘M gonna stretch you open like a good girl deserves.” He declares, mainly to himself. Too lost in how your walls greedily suctioned his fingers back in.
Bakugou carefully leans down to lap at your clit, eliciting a soft cry and an arch of your back. He shuts his eyes as he savors the taste he was beginning to yearn for, suckling your poor neglected clit.
“Katsuki!” You shout, digging your nails into the pillow behind you. “Katsu—fuckk! Please, fuck me, baby! I need you so badly, need your cock so bad!”
He’s devoted to searing your taste into his mind. Messily coating his face and your cunny with a thin layer of wetness. Soon, he’s haphazardly withdrawing his fingers from your salacious cunt, against your protests to taste you further.
Spikes of blond hair bob between your legs, his tongue delving between your folds making you whimper and writhe. His hands grab a hold of your ass, holding you close to his face so you wouldn’t escape. Your back arches from the comforter, keening into his touch.
“God!” You cry as you fall back onto the sheets, fingers grasping for anything to clutch. His pace never falters, gratefully drinking your slick that spilled into his awaiting tongue, then swirling it around your throbbing clit.
“Kat—fuck! Baby—Katsuki!” Your body felt electric, an almost buzzing sensation that erupted from your pelvis and spread through your body. Your wanton moans are loose into the air, eyes shut as your head is tossed back.
You were a gorgeous statuette of pleasure.
You felt as if you bit off more than you could chew. Going out with a pro hero was already anxiety-inducing enough, practical criminal, allowing him to lure you to his apartment with promises of a nightcap, and now naked and wriggling beneath him was driving you to insanity.
And he's not even inside of you yet.
The maddening way his tongue circled your aching clit, inscribing his name into the bud. His blunt nails digging into the meat of your ass, keeping you relatively grounded. His tongue unrelenting stimulating your soaked pussy pushed you to your first orgasm.
A sudden wave of pleasure and the ever-growing pit in your stomach unravels through your body. You grip his hair, keeping Katsuki’s mouth in place as your hips buck into the pleasure. You loudly cry out his name, and a few tears roll down your cheeks as you cum.
He groans into your cunt, eyes rolling at the sweet taste of your cum. His hands rub your skin, easing away any pain left behind by his grip. Slowly, you open your eyes, chest still heaving.
“‘Suki,”
He pulls away, the lower half of his face soaked with slick and spit.
“M’yeah?” You can’t even think of what to say, just laying your head back to catch your breath. “You alright, baby?” You nod, still returning from your high. Katsuki crawls up to face you, a soft smile on his lips. “You look so pretty.” He cups your cheek, running his thumb along the soft skin.
“I want you to fuck me.”
He quirks a brow, a smirk on his face. “Yeah? I’ll fuck you, baby.”
“I promise, I’ll fuck you real good.” He captures your lips, sharing the taste of you once more. Your tongues are quick to entangle as you pant into each other's mouths.
Your fingers naturally gravitate to his blond hair, keeping him close as you kiss. Your bodies move together as you grind against one another, his hard cock leaking pre cum against your stomach. You’re both growing increasingly needier, rutting and panting like dogs in heat.
Katsuki breaks from the grinding, settling himself between your thighs. The tip of his cock pressed against your clit, spreading his precum as he teases you.
“You want it?”
“I want it, ‘suki.” His grin is wolfish at the nick, happily dragging his cock from your clit to press at your fluttering hole. He groans at the warmth and wetness, your dripping cunt already leaking onto him.
A pathetic high-pitched whine leaves your open mouth as his thick, heavy cock slowly bullies into your heat. Pushing deep into your plush, warm walls. Katsuki is slow, taking his time to ease you into the feeling. His lips are on your breast, kissing and nipping the soft skin.
“More, please.” You whine, your hands moving to hold onto his back. His hips increase in pace, still slow as you hiss once he draws back.
Katsuki slowly molds your tight pussy to his cock, stretching you open to only accommodate him. The sharp pain of your nails digging into his back only encourages him to thrust faster, making you cry out his name. Your cunt loudly gushes around his heavy cock, spilling syrupy juices down your skin.
“God damn, this pussy—fuck—you’re s’fuckin’ tight.” He grits out, grabbing your leg and pushing it back to the mattress. The change of angle causes you to lurch forward, your hands pushing at his shoulders. “Oh my god, Katsuki!” You shout, as his throbbing cockhead smushes against your cervix.
He’s back to sucking your tits, leaving spit-soaked freckled hickeys in his wake. You’re still adjusting to his size, the sudden change in position driving him deeper into your guts.
He’s pressed himself closer against you, his pelvis adding stimulation to your nice neglected clit. You throb around him and cry, fat tears slipping from your eyes. “Y’feel that, baby? I’m so deep in this pretty pussy. Y’feel me in yer tummy, does it feel good, baby?” You’re incoherent, only capable of breathless moans and sobs.
“You look so pretty, all fucked out ‘cause o’ me. Tell me, baby, do I feel good?” His hand cruelly comes down to press on the slight bulge in your stomach, causing your poor cunt to twitch around him. “‘s too much!” You cry out, pushing against him to no avail.
“Too much? You can take it, princess. Can’t ya’?” His pace suddenly grows rough, hips slamming into yours as he fucks into your cunny. He pressed your other leg to the mattress, forcing his cock all the way inside.
You’re mindless. Eyes rolled back into your skull, unintelligible moans and clawing at his skin. The rooms full of thick, humid air, the sounds of your squelching cunt, and a chorus of moans. Bakugou savors this image, in case he may never get the chance to see you again.
He caresses all of the right places inside of you, each thrust full of never-ending pleasure. His wicked tongue in your nipples and sinful roll of his hips push you to the edge. Like a burning fuse, slowly trailing all the way to a firework.
“Y’close baby? Don’t worry, you can cum for—fuck! You’re so fuckin’ wet—cum for me.”
Katsuki’s thrust increases to a maniacal speed, jostling you around his mattress without care. He was chasing his orgasm now, keeping you secure beneath he ruts into you. Heavy balls slapping against your asshole, the rough feeling of public hair against your soaked cunt. You can’t think let alone protest before he’s spilling his cum deep inside of your womb.
Katsuki keeps himself buried inside of you as he changes position, opting to hold you instead. You’re both panting as if you’ve run a marathon, hearts racing and skin coated in sex and sweat. You lay in silence, catching your breath for just a moment.
“Please don’t tell me you’re thinkin’ ’bout leavin’.” He mutters into your hair, rubbing your back. You breathlessly giggle against his chest, shaking your head. “I can’t feel my legs, Katsuki.” He smiles, cheering to himself.
“How about we clean up and get some rest? I’m beat.” A yawn cuts you off as you agree, alerting you to how exhausted you truly are. Katsuki kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep and tomorrow, we can continue this date. That sound nice?” You nod again, and slowly drift to sleep.
“Good. Stay here and look pretty, I’ll run a bath.”
#mzzledmtt!#mzzledwhines!#bakugou katsuki#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugou x reader smut#katsuki bakugou smut#bnha smut#bnha x reader#tw.alcohol#tw.breeding
174 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere Short Stories:
Always Watching, Done Waiting
Yandere Stalker x Terrified Fem Reader
TW: paranoia, psychological horror, STALKING, horror, yandere themes, unhealthy behavior that should never be romanticized, Your STALKER is not attractive
“Hush, little baby, don't say a word, Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.” (Your name) wept into her knees when that haunting melody began to echo throughout her home. No doubt from the same radio it had played from countless times before late in the night…
The young woman trembled in the confines of her closet while heavy foot steps echoed down her hall. If she kept herself as small a possible, would (your name) be able to avoid being caught by this psycho?
For months she had been harassed by a mysterious man… a man who would not take no as an answer.
At first it was innocent! It was small bouquets of cheap flowers, the kinds that one could buy at a grocery store for under ten dollars. Then it was boxes of her favorite candies. Simple gifts that once brought her joy since she’s never really received such flattering attention… but then it quickly began to snowball into a darker matter. This was no simple puppy love, this was an obsession.
Notes made from magazine clippings for each letters so he couldn’t be recognized through his handwriting, dozens of intimate pictures of her placed in envelopes, and body parts of the local cats she fed all had littered her doorstep over the last two months. Each ‘present’ inspired dread within (your name).
Then began the break ins, the holes in her walls and ceilings that could fit an eye in there to peep, the notes delivered to her job, the isolation from all of her friends and family, and the paranoia. There was not a single place that felt safe to her any longer… and the police wouldn’t help since her stalker had never done anything to harm her.
What on earth could he possibly want from her? Her first born? Maybe he wanted to harvest her organs and sell them on the black market? No… even someone as dense as a rock knew this stalker was utterly obsessed.
“And if that mockingbird don't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.”
The nursery rhyme continued to echo down her hall as her pursuer continued to explore her home with agonizing slow steps. (Your name) had gotten rid of her spare key so how was he able to get in? Had he been staying here prior? God, she didn’t want to think about what this sicko was capable of.
Creak!
(Your name) silently scooted herself into the corner of her closet when she heard her bedroom door creak open. The young woman placed her hands over her mouth to prevent any noise from escaping despite the desire to scream. Hot tears fell down her cheeks, her body trembled like she was in below freezing temperatures. Oh god… she was about to die.
And that’s when the door was swung open to reveal a greasy man around her age. His dark hair greasy and his face covered in stubble and acne scars. (Your name) had seen this man before… he was the guy she gave a few sandwiches to last year! He was so drunk and lost, she felt bad for him… oh god. Was that small act of kindness her catalyst to her fate?
“My darling girlfriend!” The man bent down in front of her and set the radio beside him. His hands snatched hers up in a tight grip. He brought her knuckles up to his chapped lips to press kisses on them. “You’re so skittish… it’s just me!”
“W-who are you?” The man threw back his head and laughed before he gave her a small smile.
“It’s me, silly. Malachi? Your boyfriend of a year?” (Your name) remained as still as stone. A million thoughts ran through her head while this mad man continued to ramble. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to fetch you sooner but money has been tight.”
(Your name) was suddenly pulled into a hug, the young woman tried her best not to gag from the heavy scent of musk and cigarettes that permeated from Malachi. “It was hard to stop drinking, but you were worth it! You were always so kind to me with your pretty smile and your sandwiches… I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you!”
“W-what-“ (your name) nearly fainted when her eyes met his crazed blue ones. How could someone hold so much emotion in their eyes?
“I got my life together and I found a nice place for us… it’s perfect!” Malachi pressed his nose against hers. “It’s away from all of the weird men that harass you in the convenience store and away from all those nasty animals. It’ll be our little safe haven!”
(Your name) snapped out of her stupor when he said that. She had to get away… she needed to run!
The young woman tried to pull away from Malachi but his grip on her was stronger than an anacondas.
“I know it’s a really big step, but it’s been a year now! And I’m tired of waiting for us to take bigger steps! I know you liked my gifts! You never threw any of them away!” Because she needed evidence to give to the police! The same people who wouldn’t protect her…
(Your name) gulped when she felt Malachi press his hips into hers. Something large pressed against her that made her stomach drop. “I’ve been watching you for so long… and I’m done waiting.”
#female reader#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere#ugly yandere#yandere obsession#yandere horror#horror short story#horror short#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x you#stalker yandere#stalker#yandere stalker#tw.stalking#tw.dark content#psychological horror#yandere original character#yandere concept#yandere imagines#yandere insert#yandere idea#original work#yandere boy#yandere male#yandere loser
271 notes
·
View notes
Text
outed: adelaide hughes au
tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hisch you want to join the taglist let me know!!
trevor zegras
adelaide and matt had slept in seeing as neither of them had training or a game.
the thing that woke them up from their nap was when addy’s older brothers best friends voice rang through their apartment.
“addy, are you home?” trevor asked.
trevor knew no limits so he walked straight into the younger girls room ready to jump in her bed. however, he was greeted with a sleep adelaide on top of a sleeping matt rempe
the new york native screamed causing addy and matt to jump out of bed.
upon seeing trevor, adelaide moved away from matt and stood on the side. she slipped a sweater over her head and turned to her brothers friend
“z, what the fuck are you doing here?” addy asked. she threw a shirt at her boyfriend, who simply pulled it on without a word.
“what am i doing? i came here to spend time with my honorary sister and im met with the rangers number one fighter. im concerned addy,” trevor rambled.
matt couldn’t help the smile on his face. after all the stories he’d heard about your brothers, trevor seemed like a true friend.
adelaide’s eyes softened as she lunged at the boy for a hug. “i’m fine z. matty makes me happy, like really happy,”
trevor patted the younger girls head and glared at matt. “that’s all i want addy,”
.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·.
cole caufield
adelaide was having her monthly catch-up with cole as she cooked dinner for her and matt.
however, half-way through cole had to answer some texts on the team group chat leaving the two in silence.
whilst adelaide was cooking, she failed to notice her boyfriends arrival. the tall canadian stood by the doorway, admiring his girlfriend.
“well don’t you look so pretty,” matt complimented
the taller boy stood behind adelaide and pressed kisses on her neck as she plated their food in front of the camera.
when adelaide looked up she was met with cole’s shocked face. matt looked at her girlfriends phone and stepped back a bit.
“shit. is this what z meant? he mentioned you were seeing someone but i thought you’d tell me!” cole ranted.
“and you. you may be taller than me but i will fight you. god damn addy now i owe trevor $100.” cole muttered before ending the call.
.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·.
william nylander and matthew knies
adelaide had been having a tough couple of weeks so she took some personal days and flew to toronto without telling anyone.
“adelaide?” willy asked as he saw the girl outside the practice arena.
he noticed her sunken eyes and the frail state her body was in. william immediately rushed to the girl and held her as she broke in his arms.
“come on älskling. you’re coming home with me,” willy asked matthew knies to help him, knowing that you two knew each other.
matthew helped put you in william’s car when your phone started ringing excessively. willy was tempted to ignore it but he didn’t know whether you’d told anyone of your whereabouts so he answered.
“ada!” matt rempe answered on the other side.
“this is william nylander, who are you?” he asked.
matthew urged his teammate to put the phone on speaker and that is what the blonde did.
“i’m matt. is adelaide there?”
“matt who?”
“matt rempe. look i just got back to our apartment and she isn’t here. i’ve called barzy and the martin’s but they haven’t seen her either”, matt rambled.
“she here. she’s in toronto,” willy answered.
“is she okay?” matt’s voice was timid, worried about his girlfriend.
“not really, but i’ll keep her with me for a bit,”
“can you hand her the phone please,”
william turned the phone off speaker and handed it to adelaide.
“matty,” she mumbled.
“hi ada, is willy going to make you feel better?” matt knew how close the two were during their time in toronto. he also knew that other than barzy and tito, willy was the only one who could get her out of a slump.
“willy’s the best. he always looks after me and kniesy’s here too. i miss you,” adelaide smiled at the two leaf players.
“i miss you too princess. get some rest and call me later, i love you,”
“i love you matty,” adelaide ended the call and was about to close her eyes.
“so you share an apartment with matt rempe.” kniesy stated.
adelaide hummed “i share an apartment with my boyfriend,”
.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·.
brendan brisson
brendan and adelaide were in the latters room playing smash or pass whilst they waited for dinner.
brendan was scrolling through a girls list of hockey players on tiktok as they both shouted out their answers.
“eww i can’t believe people find my brothers attractive,” adelaide groaned seeing jack for the sixth time.
brendan laughed and continued scrolling until they landed on matt rempe.
“oh i’ve seen him on fyp, the girls really seem to like him,” brendan added.
adelaide let out a nervous laugh. “pass. he’s a ranger, i’d be hung,”
of course, the knights prospect read between the lines. “okay forget his team, smash or pass?” he asked.
“well pass, he’s not really my type i guess. i don’t know briss,” adelaide answered truthfully.
brendan scoffed. “i think you’d smash. actually i think you already have,” he accused the girl.
adelaide got off her bed and looked to her best friend. “w-w-what, you’re crazy brendan. why would i hook up with a ranger?”
“i don’t know addy but i think he’s the guy you’re soft launching. i mean when i showed you the picture you started blushing. whenever any of the guys brings your boyfriend up you just say he’s tall. also i saw the way he looked at you at the isles vs rangers game i went to,”
brendan gave his best friend a pointed look.
the girl caved fast confessing everything to brendan from the time she met matt to them living together.
“who else knows?” brendan asked.
“well cole, trevor, my team, kniesy, willy, our parents and braden schneider,” addy answered.
“how do cole and trevor know before me!!” brendan exclaimed.
“they caught us,” adelaide replied sheepishly.
.·:¨༺ ༻¨:·.
mat barzal and the team
the islanders were out having drinks after their season and to celebrate adelaide's new sponsor.
of course, adelaide celebrated too much as she hung onto mat and slurred her words. her teammates found it amusing as she gave them all advice on their love lives.
"mat. i love you, i really do but i swear if you show up to training camp with a shaved head finding a girlfriend would be the least of your worries," she threatened.
the boys laughed as mat dropped the girl off on their goalie ilya sorokin. the girl then started counting in russian and muttering random curse words causing the others who understood to look at the girl in amusement.
"oh no, i have to factory reset her to english," mat groaned as adelaide began rambling on in different languages intertwining with her sentences.
adelaide then laid her head onto ilya's shoulder. "i miss matt," she mumbled in english. the poor goalie then pointed at his two teammates with the same name, making the girl excited.
"eww, that's not matt. i want to go home to matty," she whined.
matt martin carried the younger girl out the bar as she stumbled over her feet, mumbling about 'matt'. barzy was given her bag as he searched for a contact under that name.
just as he was about to hand the phone back to adelaide, she received a call from 'remmy 🐀'.
"ada, it's 2:30. you told me to call if I don't hear from you at this time," matt answered on the other end.
"are you matt?" barzy asked.
matt straightened up and prepared to head out the door. "yeah, I'm matt. umm is ada alright?"
"she's fine. i mean a little wasted but functioning,"
"i'll come pick her up. i've got her location, i should be there in ten minutes,"
barzy put adelaide's phone in her bag and hung it over his shoulder. "addy, matt's on his way," he told the younger girl, holding a bottle of water to her lips.
despite some having families and significant others, they all waited to ensure that adelaide got home safe even if that meant they walked across the city for her.
the sounds of matt's jeep alerted the crowd and the boy pulled up as close as possible before stepping out.
adelaide smiled at the sight of her boyfriend. she pushed away from her teammate and stumbled into matt's arm, the boy catching his girlfriend.
"matty, look this one and this one has the same name as you!" she exclaimed, pointing at the other two.
matt smiled at adelaide's teammates and fixed his grip around her waist. "come on ada, let's get you in the car and then I'll run you a bath when we get home,"
adelaide’s teammates looked at one another and then at how comfortable the girl was. “bye friends! i’m gonna miss you,” she shouted out the car door.
“is that?” one of the guys asked as they watched the couple drive away.
“yup,” barzy replied.
“with ..”
“we all pretend we don’t know until she tells us,” anders lee told the group before they split.
#adelaide hughes au#matt rempe au#matt rempe x hughes!sister#matt rempe imagine#matt rempe x reader#nhl imagines#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nicohischierz writes
177 notes
·
View notes
Text
I told you so
katsuki bakugou x reader
You know Bakugou since the kindergarten.
For a long time, you were really scared of him. Because he had always been so impulsive.
Also, it scared the hell of you that he had always been so mean to Deku, who regularly was bullied by him and his friends. You always feared that he would be mean to you too.
One day, after elementary school, when you went to the playground, Bakugous friends made fun of you because of your Quirk. Your Quirk is to heal other people.
“This Quirk is so lame and boring. Just like you are lame and boring.” they told you.
You are an emotional person, so you tear up really fast.
So it was that day. “Just leave me alone.” you said and sniffed.
“How ridiculous is the fact that are you crying you. You crying baby.” they said and laughed. You wanted to speak up for yourself, but suddenly, they both got a smack on the back of their head. “Jerks, leave Y/N alone. She has a fantastic quirk. You shouldn't be mean to her, maybe you need her help someday.” Bakugou said and stepped for.
“Well, you must be right. You are always right, Bakugou” they told him. “Of course I am right, you idiots. Now apologize to her.” he told them.
They quickly apologized to you, but you didn't even listen to them. You just stared at Bakugou and tried to understand what happened. He stood up for you, made you a compliment and “forced” them to apologize to you.
Why is he so nice?
“Do you want to go on an expedition with us?” Bakugou asked you.
You were still confused about the whole situation, but you nodded because you didn't want to be all by yourself on the playground after they left.
So you went with Bakugou and his friends on an expedition.
After that day, you and Bakugou became friends.
No, to be honest, you weren't just friends, you were best friends.
You were like glued together since that day.
If some looked at you the wrong way, he got in a fight.
If some made fun of you, he bullied the hell out of them.
He does it until today.
Nowadays, you are both at the UA.
Currently, you were sitting outside on a bench on the terrace.
“Bakugou?” you asked him.
“Yes, Y/N” he answered and looked at you.
“You know, I always asked myself. Why did you help me back then, as your friends were mean to me?” you said and played with your fingers.
He chuckled. “You still don't understand it?” he asked you then.
“What should I understand?” you asked him,
“You don't understand why I am always nice to you, protect you and take care of you?” he replied.
“Jerk, I know why you do it now because we are friends, but I asked you why you did it back then.” you grumbled.
He shook his head. “Little dummy, I do it because I am badly in love with you since the kindergarten” he confessed to you, and you were shocked your eyes were wild open.
“And I know you are also in love with me.” he said confident.
“I am not.” you protest.
“We are just friends.” you told him. He shook his head again. “No, I see how you get jealous and touchy after I just stand close to another girl.” he said and smirked.
“I never did that.” you said.
This is a lie.
You always get jealous, and you both regularly cuddle after a girl was too close to your Bakugou.
But it is just a friend thing, right?
“Yes, you do this, and it is totally fine because I do it too.” he told you.
“Bullshit.” you said.
“Let me prove it to you, okay?” he asked you.
“How do you want to prove it to me?” you replied.
He said. “I will kiss you, and when you kiss me back, you like me back and when not I was wrong about the whole thing.”
“Okay, but this will not change something between us. After that, everything will be like it is right now, right?” you asked him.
He nodded.
“Then-” you started, but Bakugous lips were already on your lips.
It felt like a firework and you quickly kissed him back. It just felt so good and right. You pulled him even closer.
He smirked against your lips and drifted away from you.
“I to-” he tried to say that he told you so, but know you kissed him, so he shut up.
You would not allow him to assert that he was correct.
This piece of shit, you thought to yourself and moved to his lap to be closer to him.
#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou x you#bnha bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#mha bakugou#bakugo katsuki x reader
154 notes
·
View notes
Text
6.1 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, nudity, Bucky's lies come back to bite his ass.
Please note: I'll be taking a break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th to focus on writing, and will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.
Word Count: 1.1k
Previously On...: Porn. The last chapter was porn.
A/N: Sorry, besties; not sure what happened. I set this up to post at 445 per usual, and when I came back on, I saw it still hadn't gone up, so I'm doing it manually. I apologize for this screw up!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Bucky woke the next morning in a tangle of sheets and Major. He had to pee, but he didn’t want to get up. God, he never wanted to get up. If he could stay wrapped up with her like this, for the rest of his life, he thought, he would die happy. The very idea struck him like a brick– he’d given a lot of thought to his own death over the years, but never, not once, did he ever consider the possibility that he might actually die happy until this very moment.
If she was in his life when he went, he realized, he very well could.
Major shifted in her sleep and snuggled further into Bucky’s chest with a contented sigh, and he felt his heart swell. If he wasn’t careful, at the rate his feelings were going, he was at risk of proposing to her before lunch.
After about fifteen more minutes of blissfully watching Major sleep in his arms, Bucky couldn’t hold off his bladder any longer. Gently extricating himself from Major’s embrace so as not to disturb her, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before heading to the bathroom.
After he’d finished and washed his hands, he made his way back toward Major’s bed. As he passed by the string of clothes he’d discarded the night before, he heard a buzzing coming from his pants. He reached down and pulled his phone from his pocket, checking the caller ID.
Lily. Again.
Bucky sighed and took himself back to the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him as he accepted the call.
“Hey, Lil, what’s up?” he asked, sitting down on the edge of Major’s whirlpool tub.
“Hey, Jamie,” she said, and Bucky could immediately tell something was wrong. She sounded… off, distressed. “Listen,” she continued, “I know you and Sam probably had a late night last night, and I hate bothering you…”
“What’s wrong, Lil?” Bucky asked, growing concerned now.
“Well, I drove out to Langston Park to run the trails,” Lily began, “and I don’t know if I ran over a nail or had a slow leak, or what, but when I got back to the car, my tire was flat. I was kind of hoping you could meet me up here and help me change it?”
Bucky ran a hand over his stubble. “Shit,” he said. “You know I would in a heartbeat, Lil, but–”
“No, yeah,” Lily interrupted him. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I’m sure someone will drive by and I can flag them down for help–”
“Lily Anne McIntyre, you are not going to wave down a stranger and just hope that they’re not a murderer or a rapist,” Bucky said into the phone, a little louder than he intended. “Listen, I’m on my way, but I’m in the city, so it’s going to take me a little while, okay? Just… just stay in your car with the doors locked until I get there.”
“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, Jamie!” Lily’s voice was full of relief. “You’re my hero! I owe you, big time!”
Bucky cracked a smile. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Give me about forty-five minutes to get to you, okay? And remember, lock. your. doors.”
“I promise,” Lily agreed before ending the call.
Bucky stood up from the edge of the tub and went back into the bedroom and quietly put his clothes back on. Sitting down at the edge of Major’s side of the bed, he leaned down and began pressing kisses to her shoulder and collarbone until she stirred and started to stretch.
With a lazy moan that sent the blood straight to Bucky’s dick, Major sleepily blinked her eyes open. “Why are you wearing so many clothes?” she asked him, her voice seductively husky with sleep. “Come back to bed.”
Bucky wanted to. Oh god, he really, really wanted to. “I’m so sorry, sugar,” he told her, leaning down to give her a proper kiss.
“Bucky,” she laughed, pulling back from him, “I just woke up; I’m sure I have horrible morning breath.”
“Like I would ever care.” He cupped her face in his hands and brought his lips to hers, gently running his tongue along her lips so she opened her mouth to him.
After a long moment, they broke apart, and Bucky rested his forehead against hers. “I don’t want to leave you,” he said softly. “But I’ve got to go.”
Major nuzzled her cheek against his. “So, don’t,” she murmured. “Stay.”
Bucky sighed. “I can’t. Lily’s got a flat tire; she’s waiting on me to come help her change it.”
Major let out a puff of air through her lips. “Well, give me five minutes to get dressed and I can come with you,” she offered hopefully.
“I’d love that, doll,” Bucky said, frowning, “but Lily’s still pissed off about the bar and…” he ran a hand behind his neck, suddenly realizing how stupid this was going to sound, “I haven’t told her I’ve been seeing you.”
The change that came over Major was nearly imperceptible, but Bucky clocked it, all the same. Her eyes narrowed, her shoulders tensed and she pulled back from him by a hair.
“So,” Major began slowly, “where did she think you were last night when she called you, then? You said you’d already told her what you were up to. If she didn’t know you were with me, what did she think you were doing?”
“I told her I was having a guys’ night out in the city with Sam,” Bucky admitted, hating himself now for even deeming the lie necessary in the first place.
“I see.” The words were clipped, Major’s voice void of any emotion, and Bucky knew he’d fucked up. Immensely. “Well, you better get going, then, if Lily’s waiting on you.”
“Major.” Bucky put a hand on her arm, but she got up out of the bed, dragging the topsheet with her to wrap around herself and keep her body covered from him, as if now, suddenly, after everything they’d already done together, she no longer wanted him to see her naked. “Can we just–”
“You should go, Bucky,” she said again, not meeting his eye, and Bucky felt like absolute shit.
“Can I call you later?” he asked, and he heard the note of desperation in his own voice, but Major just shrugged a shoulder. He tried to lean in to her to give her a kiss goodbye, but she stood there, still as a statue, so he simply pressed his lips to her forehead and sighed before showing himself to the door.
He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up, and he’d blown it. She’d probably never want to see him again, and honestly, could he blame her? He’d lied about being with her, like she was some kind of dirty secret. Sam had been right, though Bucky would never admit it to him. Why was he letting Lily’s opinion dictate how he lived his life?
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
151 notes
·
View notes
Text
“OH MY GOD THAT’S JOOST KLEIN!”
(Pt. 2)
Pairing - Joost Klein x fem!reader
Summary - Following an attempt to ignore Joost and act as though nothing had happened, you both meet on a rainy day while waiting for the bus. He offers you a ride but first takes you out for a dinner and shows you the beauty of Amsterdam at night.
Genre- fluff, maybe little bit of angst.
Mentions - @dozcan123 , @multifilmfan & @mrschandlerbing
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
About three months back, something went down with Joost Klein. We chatted at first, but then I got busy, and Joost wouldn't quit trying to get in touch. I brushed off his messages until I finally blocked his number. After that, he stopped trying to reach out on other social platforms. I felt a bit guilty, but I figured he probably moved on. Sometimes I thought about unblocking him and telling him how I felt, but when I saw he was into Eurovision, I hesitated. 3 weeks ago, he dropped a track called Europapa, and it blew up. The song brought back memories of Joost, making me consider going to Eurovision with my sister. Lost in thought, a message from my best friend Zofia interrupted me, signaling her arrival. We decided to grab a drink and catch up, with Zofia's unexpected entrance and our trip to a nearby bar helping clear my head.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 3 hours later ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
I checked my bus app to see when my bus will arrive. I still had 35 minutes left but the walk wasn’t short so basically I already should be on my way. I walked my best friend to her house. She About 35 minutes were left before my bus arrived, but the walk to the stop wasn't short, so I should've been on my way already. I escorted my best friend to her place; she was completely wasted, and so was I. It was the usual routine - she'd get super drunk, I'd have to take her home, and then make sure I got back to my flat safely at night. I glanced at my friend before asking if she could at least get ready for bed and sleep. She agreed, closed the door, leaving me alone. I turned on maps to find the nearest bus stop direction, and just as I did, a few raindrops fell on my screen, signaling the impending rain. And sure enough, it started pouring. I began to run, and as I was about to cross the street, a car came speeding towards me, honking loudly, nearly hitting me. Shocked, I turned around, not knowing what to do. The car was already gone, so I tried to forget the scary moment and went to sit on the bench at the bus stop just a few steps away. Sitting there, rain pouring down on me as there was no roof over the bench, I stared at the ground, hoping the bus would arrive soon, even though I still had 10 more minutes to wait in the cold rain.
“Y/n?” A low male voice with a pronounced Dutch accent addressed me. I turned to find a recognizable individual standing directly in front of me. I was taken aback by the sight of him drenched from head to toe, standing there as confused as I was.
"Joost?" I uttered, rising to my feet and adjusting my coat. An extended pause ensued, with neither of us certain of how to initiate this dialogue.
"It was you crossing the street? Please be more cautious next time," he began, causing my eyes to widen in surprise.
"I apologize." I glanced aside and then back at him. He appeared altered. His hair had brightened notably, nearly reaching a platinum blond tone. His demeanor was grave. It seemed like he wasn't content to see me, and frankly, I wasn't excited either.
"How are you?" Were the only words that escaped my lips.
"I'm good. Have you been drinking?" He inquired, moving a bit closer, though there was still a noticeable gap between us. I caught a whiff of his cologne once more. It was the same scent from three months back when he assisted me in zipping up my jacket.
"Tipsy, not drunk," I corrected him, settling back onto the bench, which was once again damp. I glanced down at my shoes, feeling embarrassed.
"I can catch a whiff of the alcohol from here," he remarked, and I simply pouted, unsure of how to respond. He moved closer and settled beside me. Our shoulders brushed together. In a sudden impulse, I rested my head on his shoulder, shutting my eyes and relishing the moment. It dawned on me how much I had missed Joost.
"Y/n, do you want a lift?" Joost interrupted my thoughts. I hesitated a lot, unsure if I should say yes or no.
"Sure." I say standing up. He stood up as well, and I just followed him. It was a 1-minute walk until we arrived at the car I almost got hit by. I sat in the passenger seat and inhaled the scent, Joost's specific cologne mixed with cigarettes. I yawned, leaning on the window. He started his car, and we drove through the city. There was complete silence between us until there was a loud growl. I covered my stomach with my arm and started to daydream about what I would eat when I arrived home.
“What are you doing?” I inquired as Joost made a sudden right turn.
“I’m starving, do you like McDonalds?” He asked and I furrowed my brows.
"I suppose so, but I've got some food at home, so I'll decline," I replied, earning a chuckle from the blonde guy.
"Ha, that's totally a classic mom move: 'We've got food at home,'" he mimicked, leading to a moment of silence as we both pondered our next words.
"It's on me." He stated, breaking the silence as he parked his car in the parking lot and switched it off.
"Please," he uttered, casting me those identical pleading eyes as during our initial encounter. Exhaling deeply, I release my seatbelt and unlatch the car door.
"Macdonalds around midnight just hits differently," Joost remarked as he savored his first bite of the Big Mac.
"Would you like some?" He inquired, flashing me a comforting smile.
"Thanks, but I'm good," I replied, smiling back, enjoying my chicken nuggets. I noticed Joost eyeing them, so I pushed the box towards him and nodded, signaling he could give them a try.
"May I?" He inquired, gazing at me. He looked very handsome. His beautiful blue eyes peered through his thick-framed glasses. He wore a Burberry scarf around his neck. His sharp jawline was what made him truly attractive.
"Sure," I replied, looking down, aware that I was blushing intensely.
"You know I've never tasted chicken nuggets," he remarks as he takes one, slyly snatching the sauce I was using. He sampled the nugget while I indulged in some French fries that I also relished. I glanced out the window; it was entirely dim outside. Then I shifted my gaze back to Joost.
"Why did you block my number?" He inquired out of the blue. I sat upright, unable to provide a response to his query.
"I was occupied," I replied curtly, feeling a bit anxious that this conversation might escalate. He simply nodded, unsure of what to say. After a moment of contemplation, he finally broke the silence.
"Occupied with someone?" He inquired, prompting me to tilt my head slightly. I needed a moment to ponder and craft a thoughtful response. I wasn't preoccupied with anyone. I was simply engrossed in self-care, focusing on my mental well-being, striving to improve my life even just a little. My daily routine felt monotonous - waking up, having breakfast, heading to work, eating dinner, sleeping, and repeating the cycle. I grew weary of this routine. I longed for my parents, my younger sister, and the carefree days of childhood.
“No.” I replied dryly, as I took my final sips of coke. Joost had already pushed the box back, but I nudged it back to signal that he can have the last nuggets. He accepted the food, pondering his response before blurting out something foolish.
“So you were occupied with…?” He prompted me to complete the sentence. I simply sighed in response.
"My mental health," I respond, causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise.
"You could have informed me that you were having a tough time. I would have been there to support you," he says, gazing at me with concern.
"I just needed some time to myself," I say, hoping to end this conversation.
"You know, I felt foolish when you blocked me. You could have simply mentioned you weren't interested in me, and I would have backed off," he says, sitting upright, with a hint of remorse in his eyes as he gazes at my hands. I was fidgeting with my sleeve.
"Feeling tense?" He asks, taking hold of my hand. I wanted to say no, but deep down, I knew I could only answer yes.
"No. Not really." I respond, attempting to avoid the eye contact he's seeking.
"Do you desire any more food?" He inquired, and I simply shook my head to decline.
"Let’s go then." He suggests, gently patting my back. We exited the building together.
"That's okay, I can walk home from here," I say, glancing at him. He was tall and had a very masculine appearance.
"Can I accompany you home?" He questioned, and unsure if it was a wise choice, I sensed it might be our last meeting for a long time, or possibly never again. Nevertheless, I nodded, and he grinned. We began walking towards my house.
"I like your scarf," I mentioned, breaking the silence. He didn't say anything but gently removed it and wrapped it around my head.
"It looks much more flattering on you," he remarks with a smile, reaching out to grasp my shoulder, drawing me closer to him. Suddenly, he makes a wrong turn.
"That's not the route to my place," I mention, furrowing my brows. I was nearly sober.
"I know. There's a spot I'd like to take you to," he mentions as we reach the bridge. The wind was strong, messing up Joost's hair. He tried to fix it quickly, but it didn't really work. I couldn't help but laugh, and he rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue in response.
"Hey, what's so funny?" he says playfully, giving me a gentle push.
"Nothing," I uttered as he drew me closer once more, and I simply relished the moment. It dawned on me that I was thoroughly enjoying the time with the tall Dutch gentleman. A quiet interval ensued until we reached a bridge. It was truly a sight to behold, and I couldn't resist capturing it in a photograph. Stepping back, I ensured Joost was also in the frame. He glanced at me, posed with a smile, and shaped a heart with his fingers.
"Aww, adorable!" I say with a smile, and he approached without a word. I tucked my phone away, and Joost simply embraced me. No words. No sounds. Just two individuals embracing at the bridge. Two hearts beating in unison.
"I deeply yearned for you," is the only utterance he managed.
"I missed you as well," I reply softly, maintaining the embrace. We linger in the moment before eventually deciding to head back home as the chill of the evening sets in.
"When do you plan to depart for Sweden?" I inquire purely out of interest.
"My manager mentioned they're counting on me to be at the hotel tomorrow," I respond, nodding in understanding.
"Are you not keen on joining me?" He inquired. He had already asked me this question during our meal.
"I'd be happy to join, but I need to find a way to make some money," I respond, to which he pouts in disappointment.
"I comprehend. Please inform me if your decision changes," he states, and I offer a smile. Upon reaching my residence, we bid our final farewells. He mentioned I could keep the scarf but requested something in return. As I lacked valuable items, he noticed my bag and a small keychain, a fluffy pink heart. He inquired about exchanging it, to which I happily agreed, asking if he desired anything else, but he declined. We shared a parting hug, and he mentioned he would text me. After he left, I unblocked his number but never received a message from him again.
A/n - guys I’m so sorry this is so shitty 😭 I feel like I made so much grammar mistakes. English isn’t my native language so if you see any mistakes please contact me 😘 BY THE WAY I DONT KNOW IF YALL NOTICED BUT Y/N’S BEST FRIEND IS ACTUALLY ME 😍😍😍😍😍THANK YOU SO MICH FOR 60 FOLLOWERS ILY! leave a comment behind please it gives me a lot of motivation ✌🏻 I’m actually thinking if I should make a part 3 but idk lmk 😊 PEACE OUT 😇✌🏻LUV U GUYS 🥰❗️💋💋💋💋💋
#joost klein x you#x female reader#x fem!reader#x y/n#x reader#joostkleinxreader#stand with joost#free joost#justice for joost#joost klein#joostice#cute#couple#fluff#angst#last goodbye#part 2#zoofzoofxx
190 notes
·
View notes
Text
Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen
Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.
Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)
a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷
A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨
“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”
Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.
He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.
You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?
He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.
No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.
The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys.
Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.
“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.
“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”
“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.
“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—”
“No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!”
“I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—”
“No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.
“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.
You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.
Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.
•••••••••••
Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.
Unnecessary, stupid…
Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.
With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.
He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.
He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.
As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing.
It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.
He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.
He can do it, he has done it countless times.
Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.
He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.
He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.
There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.
Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.
He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.
He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.
He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.
He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.
He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.
He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.
“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.
The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.
He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.
“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”
“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”
“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…”
“Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”
“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily.
Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”
“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.
“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.
Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives.
“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.
“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.
“Aegon…”
Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.
He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.
“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.
Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.
The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.
Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.
“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.
“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.
“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.
“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.
Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way…
Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.
His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.
He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.
The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs.
You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.
“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.
“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”
“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.
“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.
He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.
“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.”
“I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.”
“You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.
“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end.
Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.
“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.
Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.
“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”
“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”
“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.
You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.
Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.
“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”
“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.
“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.”
“Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.
•••••••••••
He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.
He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.
Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.
He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.
Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.
Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.
“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.
“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”
You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”
“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”
“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,”
“There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King’s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him.
There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.
Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.
The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.
He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.
“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.
“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.
“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.
He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.
You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.
Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say.
He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.
Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.
You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.
He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.
You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke.
Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.
“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,” he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.
Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.
Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.
“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”
“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”
“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.
No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.
“I apologize, uncle,”
Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.
“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup.
The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.
His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.
“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.
“Yes, My Lady?”
“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.
“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.
“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”
“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.
“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”
•••••••••••
After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.
Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.
With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.
Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.
That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.
He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.
He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.
You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.
He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face.
“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.
“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.
“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.
He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness? How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him?
He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.
He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.
You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.
“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.
“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.
“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”
He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”
It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.
And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.
Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.
You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.
Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.
“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.
He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.
“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.”
He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.
You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.
The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.
•••••••••••
A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.
“Mother—”
“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”
Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”
“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.
“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”
“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.
A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.
“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”
Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.
“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.
“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”
“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”
“So do you, My Prince.”
“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.
“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.
“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.
“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry.
“Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”
“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.
“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.
You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.
A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.
He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.
He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans.
He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.
He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.
“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.”
“I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.
“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.”
Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.
He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.
He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.
Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek.
“My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.
He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.
“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”
“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.
“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.
“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”
“Is that so? Well, I must say—”
He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.
“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.
What have I done?
What have I done?
I dropped her.
I did this.
What happened?
His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.
“Aemond, look—”
He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.
Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore.
With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor.
His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this?
He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.
“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.
The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…
Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body.
“Aemond, please let me—”
“No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.
You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.
“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.
“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.
“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.
“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.
He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.
You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.
Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.
“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.
“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”
“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”
He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.
“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out.
“Shouldn’t we use something more—”
“Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”
You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.
He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.
•••••••••••
He is running.
Where is he? Why is he running?
He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.
The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.
What’s this smell?
He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.
He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.
“Darling, are you alright?”
“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.
“I don’t understand, why—”
“You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.
“I was not here—”
“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”
“Aemond!”
“Aemond!”...
He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.
“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.
“Aemond—”
“I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little.
He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.
“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.”
“I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.
“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.
“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”
He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.
He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.
“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
•••••••••••
He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.
“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.
“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”
“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.
“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”
He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?
“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.
“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”
“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.
“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.
“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.
“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.
His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.
“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”
“I don’t care, I have you now,”
He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.
He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.
He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.
“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”
He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.
His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.
You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.
“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.
You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.
The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.
You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you.
He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.
He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.
“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.
“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”
“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”
“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.
“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.
He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.
“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.
He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.
“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fluff#prince aemond#aemond x reader#rue:smut#rue:angst#rue:fluff
154 notes
·
View notes
Text
running
part seven of the CRUSH series
bsf! matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of sex
a/n -> read the previous part for context !!
ever since the day he apologized, matt had been acting weird. there was a very obvious tension between us, but neither of us said anything about it. his brothers on the other hand, were quick to point it out.
“ok, what’s up with you two? did you fuck again, or something?” chris asked, earning a quick hit and an incredulous look from nick. matt just rolled his eyes, answering with a brief “no”, before turning in the direction he came from.
he was distant and quicker to anger than he usually was. it seemed like the smallest things set him off, he was just so mad. his recent attitude has made me quite distant myself because being around him wasn’t very enjoyable.
he had his moments where he seemed like his usual self, but for the most part, he was miserable. of course i was aware that this was partially my fault, as right after our conversation about the night we slept together his entire demeanor changed.
i felt terrible, and i wanted nothing more than to help him feel better. but i tried to figure out what was wrong, and he just pushed me away. i wanted to be there for him, but he was a grown man at the end of the day. if i did or said something to upset him, he needed to communicate what that was.
so for the past week, we didn’t hang out unless it was with his brothers. we barely spoke two words to each other, and he couldn’t even look at me on the rare occasion that we did. i tried not to let it get to me, but he was supposed to be my best friend. now he couldn’t even be around me ?
MATT’S POV
just when i think i can’t possibly make things worse than they already are, i prove myself wrong. i somehow managed to completely drive y/n away, and now i couldn’t even look at her.
every time i saw her, i felt the shame and guilt eat away at me. i’ve treated her terribly for the past week, and now she couldn’t stand being around me.
at first i just wanted a little bit of distance, because i knew that the second i felt her soft fingers on my face or watched her plump lips pull into a smile, i would be gone. she’s constantly running through my thoughts, and i have no way of stopping it.
every day chris made these sly comments about how i should make a move on her before someone else did, and that pissed me off. his words constantly rang through my ears, and it made me paranoid.
every time she smiled at her phone and typed away at her screen, which was happening a lot more often recently, i got more and more annoyed. i did my best to push it down and ignore it, but it always seemed to make things worse.
whether she was talking to someone or not, she was growing more and more distant by the day. i found myself missing her when she was in the same room as me, which made me realize just how bad i let the situation get.
i decided to go over to her house to talk to her, knowing i had to clear the air. and that’s how i ended up here, standing at her doorstep anxiously, trying to gain the confidence to knock.
before i could force myself to do it, her door swung open. i must’ve looked like a deer in headlights, my eyes widened as she caught me off guard. she let out a chuckle at that, “i saw you on the doorbell camera, i thought i’d just make this easier for you”
well that’s embarrassing. “you saw that whole thing?” i asked, hoping it wasn’t true. when she nodded her head in response, i closed my eyes shaking my head slightly as i cursed myself. “it’s ok, matt. it was cute” she spoke, a small smile on her face.
i felt my face heat up while i prayed she didn’t notice the deep shade of red that my face turned at the comment. “come on” she motioned to the inside of her house, choosing not to comment on my flustered state.
READER’S POV
when i moved to the side to let matt in, i caught sight of a small paper bag in his hand while he passed me. he led the way to my room, pushing my door open and making himself comfortable on my bed.
“i was thinking we do a movie night?” he asked hopefully, emptying the bag of its contents; an array of different candies, snacks, and a drink for each of us.
whenever matt and i had a disagreement, our way of calling a truce was to have a movie night. we would take the time to talk it out and end off the night with cuddles and a movie.
“sounds perfect” i told him, grabbing the remote and moving to sit across from him. i passed him the remote when i felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. i pulled it out, opening it to see a text from the guy i’ve been talking to for the past week.
dylan 🤠
hey beautiful ;)
what are you up to ??
y/n ⭐️
abt to watch a movie with matt !!
“what movie should we watch?” matt asked, but i was barely able to register his words as i read the next text.
dylan 🤠
matt is your best friend right ?? i thought he wasn’t talking to you ??
y/n ⭐️
yeah movie nights are kinda like our way of calling a truce yk ??
dylan 🤠
ohhh i get u
y/n ⭐️
wbu ??
dylan 🤠
oh yk just texting this girl rn
a lil nervous tho ngl, she’s drop dead gorgeous
wayyyy out of my league
“hellooo? you gonna sit there and text all night or are we ever gonna talk?” matt’s annoyed voice pulled my attention away from my phone.
“hold on, i’m talking to someone right now. just give me a sec” i spoke, looking back down to my phone.
y/n ⭐️
who could you possibly be talking about 🤨
dylan 🤠
your mom :)
y/n ⭐️
that wasn’t funny
dylan 🤠
i laughed
y/n ⭐️
well that makes one of us
i watched as the three dots moved on the screen, before my phone was roughly pulled out of my hand. “what the fuck, matt ? give it back” i yelled as he moved it out of my reach.
i quickly moved over to him, climbing over his body to reach for the phone. he was quick to throw my phone onto my carpeted floor, grabbing my wrists before i could move to get it.
“who was that?” he asked, looking up at me. “none of your damn business” i answered. “considering you’re too busy looking down at your phone to talk to me, i’d say it is”
i let out a dry chuckle at that, “now you wanna talk ? that’s new. usually you just bottle up your feelings and throw a hissy fit instead of telling me what the issue is” i spoke, glaring down at him. my phone vibrated on its spot in the floor, but i ignored it.
“why are you trying to pick a fight?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “i’m not, this is what it looks like when you act like an adult and talk about things. i know that might be a little foreign to you” i jeered, his face dropping at the comment.
when i heard my phone vibrate again, i went to go pick it up, but was stopped as matt’s hands gripped onto my waist firmly, pulling me down onto his lap.
“look, i obviously hurt you and i’m really sorry for that-” he started, stopping as my phone continued to vibrate on the floor. “who the hell is blowing up your phone like that?” he started, starting to become annoyed again.
“it’s no one” i answered.
“who is it?” he posed his words as a question, but it sounded more like an order.
“nobody”
“why are you lying?” he asked, receiving a sigh from me. he just wasn’t gonna let it go.
“it’s just this guy i’m talking to” i answered. before i could even process what was happening, matt had flipped us over so that he was the one one top.
“what’s his name?” matt asked, his hands tightly clenching the sheets on either side of my head. my eyes trailed down to his tatted arm, watching as it flexed when he shifted his weight onto it.
“his name doesn’t matter” i answered, willing myself to look anywhere but at his lips. it was tempting, the short distance between us making it hard to focus on anything else.
“is there anything you can tell me about him?” matt asked.
“yeah. he’s not confused.” i answered without thinking, the words slipping out before i could stop them. “he’s made his feelings for me clear” i finished.
“his feelings? he’s only known you for…what, a week?” he asked, tilting his head at me. “he knows what he wants matt” i shrugged, “do you?” i asked.
the question seemed to catch him off guard, as he didn’t utter a word. instead, his eyes dropped down to my lips for a split second, jumping back to my own eyes quickly.
“don’t do that” i stopped him, “don’t look at me like you want to kiss me. we both know you don’t” i told him, turning my head away from him.
he was quick to place his hand on my cheek, moving my face so i was looking at him while he spoke. “why would you think that?” he asked, his eyes softening.
“why would you keep running away from me if you did?” i asked, trying my best not to show how hurt i actually was. i blinked back the tears i felt beginning to form, taking a deep breath.
matt picked up on my shift in mood, immediately moving to sit next to me. “fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry” he whispered repeatedly, pulling me into a hug. “it’s not on purpose, i swear. and it’s definitely not your fault, the last thing i ever wanted was to hurt you” i cried silently in his arms, his hands squeezing my waist tightly.
he pulled away to look at me, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. “is there something wrong with me?” i asked, needing an answer to the question i’d been asking myself constantly throughout the week. why? why was he avoiding me like the plague? what did i do to deserve this?
“of course not. this is my fault, it’s not you. i’m just confused and i have no clue what to do. i don’t know what i want, and i didn’t know how to deal with-” he stopped abruptly, like he was about to slip up and say something he didn’t want me to hear.
“i just didn’t want to hurt you while i was figuring out my shit, so i distanced myself from you. i know it was wrong, but i didn’t know what to do. and then i realized you were talking to someone and it just made me so mad, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on you”
“you’re jealous? matt, it’s not like he’s replacing you. he’s just a new friend” i pointed out. “i’m right here, i’m still your best friend. and you can always talk to me about anything. you know that, right?” i asked.
“yeah, i know. but are you sure you’re just friends? you said he has feelings for you” matt spoke, looking down as he spoke the last sentence. “is he the only one?” i asked bluntly, tired of beating around the bush.
matt’s head snapped up at the call-out, his lips turning upwards into a small smile. “i-” he was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket. he looked like he wanted to continue, but i stopped him, “just answer it, it’s ok” i nodded to him, watching him pull it out.
“it’s chris” he sighed out, before hitting the answer button. while he spoke to chris, i heard my own phone vibrate on the ground. i glanced over to matt, who was fully engrossed in his conversation, before grabbing it off of the floor.
i opened it to several unopened texts from dylan, but the last one is what stood out to me;
dylan 🤠
hey, you home? i’m at your door ;)
what the fuck? he knew i was home, i told him that matt and i were having a movie night.
i glanced over to matt, as he hung up the phone. “he was just asking if i wanted anything from target” he informed me, putting his phone down.
he noticed my widened eyes, his face filling with concern, “what’s wrong?” he asked, walking towards me and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“um, my….uh-” i was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. “here, i’ll get it for you” he spoke, walking out of the room before i could stop him.
“wait, matt-” i started, a few feet behind him. by the time i caught up to him, the door was already open, matt and dylan were face-to-face with each other.
“hey, i’m dylan. you must be matt” he almost seemed amused at matt’s confused face.
“hey, baby” he spoke to me, earning a cold stare from matt as he realized who the man in front of him was. his jaw was clenched tightly as he turned his gaze to me, his eyebrows raised.
shit.
hehehe
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x reader#matt#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo angst#angst
197 notes
·
View notes
Text
He Visits You At The Salon : Jey Uso
JEY. You had told your husband not to even try to make plans for you today because you already knew you'd be spending the entire day, or almost the entire day at the hair salon. But he already knew the deal, especially when you were getting your hair braided. Today you're getting a shampoo and conditioner treatment and some medium knotless braids down to your calves. It was already one in the afternoon and your stylist was less than halfway done.
You're sitting quietly as all of the women engage in conversation, some about relationships, men, politics, the culture etc.
"Girl so yeah, she caught his trifling ass cheating with his ex. I knew he wasn't done fucking around with her." One of the other women says as she gets her hair done. You sit quietly just taking in your surroundings.
"But are we really surprised? That's how some men are. They throw a ring on these little girls hands, but be missing what they had in other women. Like, come on sweetie, you know where home is. Chile, my ex's still be hitting me up trynna talk to me. I'm like, if your girl only knew. But I get why you're missing me, cause I'm the standard." You hear Jakayla say as you can't help but let out an inner laugh.
Long story short, she's your husband, Joshua's bitter ex-girlfriend. She cheated on him with a old friend of his and when he leveled up to you, she's been bitter and delusional ever since. Shading you every time you come in the salon, on social media posting cryptic messages etc. But you never gave this bitch an centimeter, hell an inch of your damn time. She wasn't worth it because at the end of the day, you knew your man loved you and was 100% loyal to you. And he wasn't going any damn where.
Your best friend Brenda looked at you from the corner of her eye and you immediately knew you and her were thinking the same thing. How desperate she was trying to make you feel insecure, but it sure as hell wasn't going to work. You not only had the ring, but you had his last name and you had his heart, which is more than what this bitter bitch can ever say she had.
Another reason you weren't going to entertain it is because you knew some of these bitches in here were messy and loved drama. If it weren't for you having the same stylist for the past ten years, you'd be going else where. You continue scrolling on your phone, texting in the family group chat.
"Aye y/n, ain't that your man?" Everyone looks up to see your husband, Joshua heading towards the salon with food and a small flower bouquet in his hands. Your best friend looked at you with a smirk on her face. You smile as he walks into the salon.
"Hey ladies, how's everybody?" He greets politely.
"Heeey Jeeeey." They all say collectively except Jakayla. She sat there with her arms folded and a stank look on her face, along with her stupid ass friends.
"Hey baby." He says walking over to you and bending down to your level and pecking your lips multiple times. The coolness from his gold chain lightly hitting against your skin. You remember being in this position last night as he was eating the fuck outta..nevermind chile. You could feel all eyes on you and your man, but you didn't care. You loved kissing him.
"Hey baby, this for me?" You squeak with a huge smile on your face. He hands you your food and flowers. "Thank you. Where you just coming from?" You ask trying not to look down at his dick print in his grey hoochie daddy shorts. He knew those were your favorite on him.
"Just coming from Mike's, I got another tattoo." You playfully roll your eyes.
"You and your tattoo obsession babe." You joke diving into your food. Your stylist walked away momentarily for you to eat. "What you get this time?" Last month he'd gotten a beautiful palm tree tatted on his side.
"I got your name." He says pulling his shorts down slightly for you to see your name tatted on his v-line. Lord knows you were getting damp just thinking about how nice that was gonna look as you gave him hea....nevermind! "I didn't come to stay I just wanted to bring you something to eat since I knew you were gonna be here all day Mrs. Fatu." He says locking you in as he placed his hands on both sides of your chair and bending down in your face. You could smell the mint on his breath as he smiled down at you. You were so in love with this man, he just didn't understand.
"Why you all in my breathing space? Back up." You smile looking up at him.
"Oh so now I'm bothering you? I'm in ya face, now what? What...you...gon...do...bout...it?" He says each word in between kisses, causing you to break into a laugh.
"Stooop bae." You say even though you really don't want him too. You're lost in his eyes.
"I'll see you at home okay? I'm gonna go shoot some pool with the bros." He says grabbing your hands and kissing your knuckles.
"Okay, I'll see you later. Gimme kiss." You say standing to your feet as he wraps his arms around your waist so delicately as if you're some fragile doll. He captures your lips in his in a passionate kiss. You bite his bottom lip playfully as he squeezes your hip in a warning tone.
"Don't start y/n, I'll have you bent over this damn chair knockin them braids loose." He smirks. You throw your braids over your shoulder laughing.
"I'll see you at home silly bye. I love you."
"I love you too. Alright ladies I'm out, y'all have a good one." He says throwing up the peace sign.
"You too Jeeeey." You playfully roll your eyes. As you watch him leave.
"I love that man." You mumble.
#wwe smut#wwe x reader#wwe the usos#wwe imagine#wwe fanfiction#wwe the bloodline#main event jey uso#jey uso fic#jey uso smut#jey uso x reader#jey uso imagine#jey uso fanfiction#jey uso x black reader
141 notes
·
View notes
Text
୨୧ KISS IT BETTER?
୨୧ cw : tsundre!lee know, a guy being a creep, kissing, fluff, kinda angst, Han is the reader's older cousin, fem!reader, some petnames, overall soft
୨୧ requested : yes
You were practically vibrating with excitement when you got the job as Stray Kids' new manager. Eager to be around your cousin - Han - and hopefully make some money to help put yourself through college.
You made sure everything about you was perfect to greet the boys, although Han would definitely tease you for trying to look your best around him.
And you did look perfect, your hair was curled, your nails were painted a nudeish-pink, you wore your pair of pretty mary-janes, all your best jewelry, your prettiest pink clothes, and did your makeup. You looked stunning, according to your best friend at least.
You looked stunning until a stranger, in a rush, ran into you at full speed, spilling his coffee all over your clothes. Already running 10 minutes late due to traffic you had no choice but to go into the job with coffee-stained clothes.
You looked ridiculous, and Jisung confirmed that when the first thing he did when looking at your disheveled state, was laugh. "Oh my God you look ridiculous! Let me get a photo! I have to send it to halmeoni!" he whipped his phone out when you stumbled into the dance practice room.
Against your will, he got a few good shots of you before you practically jumped on him. You sat on top of him, struggling to snatch his phone out of his grasp. "Get off me you cretin!" he yelped.
You and him wrestled back and forth for a few minutes until you heard the door to the studio open. And in walks the leader of Jisung's group, Chan.
You scurry up to bow to him, while Jisung lays on the floor, "Chan-hyung did you just see that? She jumped me!"
"Did not you fuck face! You were gonna send that photo to grandma!" You squeal.
"I'm sorry what?" Chan questions.
"Chan," Han stands up and motions to you, "my younger cousin, y/n, she's also the new manager."
You bow to Chan again, "ah- Just call me Chris," Chan smiles and shakes your hand.
"Nice to meet you, just call me y/n," you introduce yourself.
You didn't notice Han rummaging through his bag until he tapped on your shoulder, holding out a spare change of clothes, "here put these on."
You gratefully took the clothes and went to change in the bathroom. You slipped on the oversized shirt and sweatpants. They looked strange paired with your Mary Janes and they were definitely not your style, but you were grateful that Jisung let you wear them.
When you slipped back into the practice room, you were greeted with 6 new faces along with Jisung and Chris. You bowed to all of them as they introduced themselves.
Han introduced you, "this is our new manager Han y/n. They're also my cousin, so don't be weird!"
"Don't worry, none of us were planning on it," Lee Know, Han's best friend, interjected, rather coldly.
You laughed off the rather cold comment, and explained the schedule that the boys were having at the moment. Just a simple marketing meeting. But the marketing team was busy, so they left it to you to brief all of them on the subject.
You read over the report one of the marketing heads had typed up for you. "So Lee Know Log number eight is going to be filmed on the 19th and they assigned me to go with you to Tokyo, which in parenthesis they say is a bummer to you because you wanted Jeon Gowook-ssi to go with you instead," you look at Lee Know for a moment before you continue," also a group live is scheduled for tomorrow, and that's all," you finish reading.
"What are we doing for the rest of today?" the boy with fox-like eyes, Jeongin, asked.
You pull out your work planner and flip to today's schedule, "the rest of today is a free day, but tomorrow as you all know you have interviews early in the morning so I wouldn't suggest staying up late tonight," you explain to the boy.
"A free day! I'm getting the hell outta here," Seungmin jumps up and grabs his backpack.
"Lets go get lunch!" Changbin suggests, "y/n you should come!"
"Yeah!" Felix agrees.
"Oh I dunno, I don't wanna bother you guys!" you insist.
"No don't do that c'mon we're gonna go to lunch!" Han persists.
Han practically dragged you along, even though you begged to not go.
When you all sat down at the KBBQ restaurant you were seated between Han and Lee Know. As the boys chatted over bites of food you stayed silent, not wanting to interrupt their conversations. "Y/n aren't you gonna eat anything?" Hyunjin asks from across the table.
You suddenly realize you hadn't eaten a single thing. "Typical y/nnie, even when we were kids, she'd go out of her way to not cause anyone any trouble," Han comments from your left.
Hyunjin takes a piece of steak from the grill and puts it on your plate, while Han starts telling a childhood story of you and him, "I remember one time we were learning how to ride bikes near the Han river, y/nnie was still using training wheels, and my older brother kept teasing her about it, so she took them off. She got about three feet down the path before she accidentally swerved into the freezing river. Luckily she could swim and we had to pull her out of the water. But when we insisted that we take her to the emergency room she looked at me and said 'I just fell in the river, it's not like I got hit by a car or anything!'" Han recalls.
The table erupted in laughter, except for Lee Know.
"You were okay though right?" Felix asks.
"Well for the most part, only some minor bruising!" you explain.
"MINOR!??! Your knee was practically busted open, you were bleeding like crazy!" Han exclaims.
Changbin stifled his laughter. And Han continued telling stories about you and his childhood. "There was this time in highschool when y/n was visiting me over the summer in Malaysia and one of my friends had a huge crush on her, like I'm talking gigantic, and y/nnie felt too bad to reject the guy, so she went on three dates with him until I had to call him and tell him that it was because she felt bad for him."
"Oh my gosh stop Ji, I still feel bad about that to this day!" You exclaim.
"Luckily that has been the only boyfriend of hers I've had to fend off," Han jokes.
"That's because he's the only boyfriend I've ever had!" you bring up.
"Well I didn't wanna embarrass you but yes that too," he chuckles.
"There's no way you've only had one boyfriend!" Felix exclaims.
"Are you gay?" Jeongin blurts.
Everyone stares at him before bursting into fits of laughter. "Stop! I'm being serious!" Jeongin yells.
"Uhm, I dunno? But no just guys don't really look at me like that," you say through chuckles.
"No wait that's sad!" Felix frowns.
You suppose that the two bottles of soju he had were finally starting to hit him. "No! Don't get all sappy I'm fine!" you insist.
Group dinners with you accompanying had become pretty frequent over the past few weeks, so had the clear sign that Lee Know was not fond of you or your presence.
Glares he would send you, cold and rude comments, even Han asked you what you did to make him dislike you so much. It tore Han apart, having to choose between his bestfriend and his cousin. Even though no one asked for him to choose, he always felt like the two of you disliking each other brought him into it.
Yet you had to go to Japan with Lee Know to help him film his vlog, maybe God did hate you, or maybe it was just bad luck. Whatever the case was, it did not help the fact that you were gonna be stuck with him in Tokyo and Kyoto for the next five days.
You had packed accordingly and met him at the airport. No words were exchanged between the two of you, except when he was instructing you to get his good side while you were filming him. "At least pretend you enjoy my company while on camera," you scoff.
Even when you landed in Tokyo, walking around with the man, you both exchanged few words. If you were a bystander on the street, it would seem like the two of you hated each other. He probably did hate you. Why? You have no idea.
"I'm gonna go out," you inform him, when the two of you return to your shared hotel room.
"Where?"
"A club, the one a few blocks west of here," you explain.
"That's dangerous," he comments before you're out the door.
You scoff, "I'm sure I'll be okay."
"Suit yourself," he shrugs.
You walk out the door and down the street to the club.
You mingle through the sweaty bodies to the bar, using the little Japanese that you did know to order a drink. "Long day?" a man beside you asks.
"Tell me about it," you chuckle.
"And what's your name?"
"y/n Han," you smile and give him your hand to shake.
He does but before he puts it down he kisses it, "well you look stunning," he compliments.
"Oh," you pause, "thank you, but uhm I can't really do anything, I'm here on a business trip."
"Well it's not like we have to go anywhere to do anything," the guy insists.
His presence was now making you uncomfortable. He got closer and closer to you, "c'mon sweetheart why don't we just slip off to the bathroom."
"No I'm good," you reply.
But the guy grabs your wrist and begins pulling you across the dance floor to the bathrooms despite your begging that he will let you go and leave you alone. Panic fills your mind, and another hand, a different one this time grabs your free wrist. Lee Know looks at you with worry on his face. "Who are you?" the guy from earlier asks.
"Her friend," Lee Know stares the guy down, "would you mind letting her go?" it was a question, but the only answer he would take would be yes.
"What're you gonna do if I don't? Hm?" The guy poses.
"You don't wanna fucking know," Minho seethes.
You look between the two men, hoping and praying Lee Know will win whatever is going on.
When the guy keeps dragging you, Lee Know punches him right in the nose. The guy's grip on your arm ends and Lee Know pulls you away from the guy and out the doors of the club in a swift motion. Before you can even thank him, he begins talking, "did he touch you anywhere other than your wrist?" rage was dripping in his voice.
You shake your head no, and tears well up in your eyes at the thought of what the guy was going to do to you if Minho hadn't been there.
"C'mon we're going back to the hotel," Minho says, giving you no chance to protest, not that you would.
When he opens the door to the hotel room he lets you walk in and closes the door behind you and him. "Thank you," you finally say.
"Don't mention it, d'you want to go home? I'll book a flight?" he asks.
You shake your head no, "I'm okay, it's okay."
"What happened was totally not fucking okay, you don't have to pretend like it was," he says while taking his shoes off.
He looks up at me, he crosses the room, kneeling beside me before unbuckles my shoes for me, tossing them near the doorstep.
"Why do you hate me?" you blurt.
Lee Know is quiet for a minute, "I don't hate you," he states.
"Then why are you so mean to me? You know what it's doing to Han? So why do you act this way?" you confront.
"Because it's easier to be mean to you and hurt Han then to tell him I'm head over heels for his cousin who is also our manager," he sighs.
"What?"
"You heard me," he retorts.
"Then why are you so-"
"Cold? Mean? Rude? Like I just said honey, I can't like you. I didn't want you to like me, so that way we wouldn't be anything," he elaborates.
"Who says I would even like you if you were nice to me?"
"So you wouldn't like me?" he whispers.
He stands up and tilts your chin up so you're looking at him. The words are caught in the back of your throat, "I would appreciate an answer my love."
"I- yeah- but- I yeah," you stutter.
"Keep it a secret?"
"Keep what a secret?"
"This," he leans down and his lips meet your own.
You immediately kiss back, taking a few minutes to savor the taste of him after the kiss ends. "You're a good kisser for someone who has only had one boyfriend before," Minho compliments.
"Thank you?"
Minho pauses, "I'm sorry, for being a dick, I wanna make it up to you."
You admire his feline-like features for a few moments before replying, "I can think of one way."
"What is it?"
"Another kiss?" you request.
And Minho is happy to oblige to your requests.
#bun.writes#bunwritesskz#stray kids scenarios#skz imagines#skz#stray kids#skz x reader#stray kids x you#lee know imagines#lee know scenarios#lee know#lee know x reader#lee know fluff#lee know stray kids
127 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
icameheretoreadstuff
Please Be Kind
alexisbnwo
Alexis's Dungeon ♠️
paranormal-hq
PARANORMAL INC.
alunasky-blog
Alunasky
wilmonism
mic