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bonny-kookoo · 4 years

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Kind like you (JJK x Reader) 💜🔞☁️

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: fluff/romance, smut, angst, comfort, friends to lovers

Warnings: kinda dense Jungkook, JK being a brat, slight Tsundere JK, Koo struggling to sort his shit, kind reader, Crush!Reader, soft smut, praising, groping, kissing, pool sex, aftercare, heart to heart convos, they talk about toys lol,

Summary: Jungkook dearly wants to be kind like you. He wants to be so sweet, and gentle, and soft like you’re with him all the time; yet all he does is tease and pick on you, it seems.

Jungkook isn’t kind.

He likes to portray himself as such, whenever it’s needed, but he’s unable to quite make this characteristic a part of himself truly. It’s not like he’s a bad person, not at all; he’s helpful, caring, and well mannered. But he’s mean, he finds it funny when he gets onto someone else’s nerves. It’s like playing a game for him; and he loves winning. He’s good at it; it’s natural for him.

Then there’s you. You’re even more awkward with strangers than he is (which says a lot), but you’re everything he wants to be. You’re so soft spoken, always seeming to know what exactly to say in any situation. You’re kind, always thinking about everyone around you before you think about yourself, typically asking everyone else’s opinion first before you make up your own. You don’t like it when people fight, you never get possessive over things like he does. It’s even the tiniest things to him that make you seem so goddamn angelic; like that one time he whined about the fact that you got the last pack of butter cookies, immediately taking one for yourself to stuff between those soft looking lips, before shyly giving him the rest of the pack- still almost full. He had taken them without thanking you. He thinks about these moments a lot. He wants to treat you like Jimin does whenever you two interact. He’s so sweet with you, easily complimenting you and making you blush with his words, always playfully holding you close without ever making you uncomfortable. It’s weird to Jungkook how much that pisses him off the most. Whenever he’s alone in a room with you, you look uncomfortable- but when it’s Jimin, or Taehyung, you seem at ease. You joke around, and hug them like it’s second nature, while at the same time, you can’t look him into his eyes at any point of time.

He hates it.

He’s talked to Yoongi about it, after he’s seen you leave his studio one day. He knows you sing, he’s heard your voice, has saved every single cover song you’ve made on his phone to listen to them whenever he needs to just shut off his mind and think about nothing. He wants to do a duet with him, yet he knows he won’t be able to ever publish it because of his position in the industry. It frustrates him, yet he would be happy just singing with you for fun- he doesn’t need to publish it, he doesn’t need anyone else’s opinion on it; but he can’t ask you, it doesn’t matter how hard he tries. He can’t get the words out, even teased you for your voice before.

“You sound like a kid!”

He wants to take it back so desperately, but now, weeks after that comment, it would be weird wouldn’t it? It would just make him look like the fool he knows he is. So now he’s sitting in Yoongis studio, listening to your voice by second hand of you will, having been too unsure to come inside while you were recording. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. “She sounds great, no? Really like the slight tilts she has here..” Yoongi murmurs, placing the visual pointer of his mouse on the spot he’s talking about. He’s right, and Jungkook wants to say that, but he simply shrugs. “You don’t like it?” He asks, and Jungkook again, simply lifts his shoulders.

“Not my style, I guess.”

But Yoongi sees past that attitude as he raises his eyebrow questioningly. “Since when? You sing the same kind of songs all the time too.” He says, and Jungkook just chews on the inside of his lip. “You feeling competition?” Yoongi teasingly asks, and Jungkook scoffs.

“I’ve been trained for years, she’s a simple YouTuber. There’s no reason for me to feel competitive.”

But Yoongi suddenly laughs, burying his face in his hand as he stops the song. “Do you have a crush on her or something? You’re acting weird as hell Jungkook.” He says, and looks at Jungkook, who seems like he doesn’t react- only the tips of his ears grow red, as Yoongi laughs again, breathlessly as usual. “Oh my god you do! Little Jungkookie’s got the hots, I can’t believe it!” He barks out, and Jungkook whines.

“I don’t!” He says. “I absolutely don’t. She’s way too shy, and she’s so girly and all..” he complains, but Yoongi continues to smile. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing. Topic change then.” He says, and Jungkook nods. “Why were you and Taehyung fighting yesterday? Heard you’ve got him quite bad with a pillow.” He asks, and Jungkook groans.

“You said we’re changing the topic!” He says loudly, and Yoongi seems to have the time of his life.

“I am! How should I know the fight was about her?” He asks, and Jungkook kicks his legs with frustration.

“It wasn’t!” He said, and Yoongi raises his eyebrow, resting his head on his hand.

“Why are you getting so defensive then?” He asks.

“Because he shouldn’t send her a topless picture of him like that.” He says.

“I thought it wasn’t about her?” He chuckles.

“Fuck you.” Jungkook retorts, and it’s where Yoongi draws the line.

“Hey hey, calm down yeah? Didn’t mean to poke too much.” He says, and Jungkook nods, apologizing under his breath. “I thought you didn’t like her?” He asks, and Jungkook shrugs again.

“Never said that. But she’s so awkward around me.” He says, now a bit more defeated.

“Ever tried being nice to her?” Yoongi asks, while he continues working on the track to take some pressure off the maknae.

“I don’t know..!” He whines and throws his head back. “In my mind it’s so easy; go up to her, say hello, maybe tell her she looks nice, done!” He exclaims. “And then I say hello and screw it up by making a joke on her account and boom, congrats, fucked it up again.” Jungkook sighes, and The rapper doesn’t say something for a moment until he responds.

“You’re just not like that, I guess.” He explains to the younger one. “But you could try to tone it down a bit. Some of the things you say are actually quite mean.” He scolds gently, and Jungkook nods.

“I don’t know how to do that though.” He says.

“Wrap your compliments up in you remarks.”

“How?” The younger one asks.

“Well, you can’t say she looks nice, right?” The older one asks, and Jungkook nods. “But you always call her shortie.” Again, a nod. “Tell her she looks like a doll.”

“But isn’t that mean too?” He asks, and Yoongi snaps his fingers.

“It’s one of those comments that makes you think. Is it an insult? A compliment? You don’t have to go all in. Tease her in a way that can be taken positively as well. She’s smart enough to get innuendos like that.” He explains, and Jungkook seems to understand as he nods.

Maybe he’ll try that next time.

The next time you’re visiting them, Jungkook is as ready as he’ll ever be to make things count. As you take off your shoes, and hang up your red jacket, he snickers, as he walks by. “What’s up red riding hood?” He says, and he can hear Jimin chuckle from the couch as you follow him into the living room. “She looks like a Disney character with that bag and the jacket.” He says teasingly, and to his own surprise, he can see the edges of your lips move upwards into a shy smile, because he remembers vividly how you'd once told Jimin how much you liked the old classic disney films instead of the new ones.

It’s working, and it’s making him feel daring. Jimin retorts something along the lines of if he’s the wolf in that case and if he would eat her, and he finds his head suddenly on your shoulder, gently reaching over your now seated form on the couch to steal a dumpling from Jimin as he speaks.

“Nah, I’d only eat the ugly ones.” And this time, you’re actually giggling.

It makes his skin tingle.

And the night goes on like that, his typical picking covered in icing sugar, as he watches you become restless on your spot on the couch across from him. He grows addicted to the view, of that sight of your teeth digging into your lip as you grow giddy under his hidden compliments, and Jimin seems to catch up on it pretty quickly. He watches in fascination, as Jungkook keeps his eyes on you, and Jungkook himself feels a pull on his heart when he states that he's slightly (very) upset that you're leaving so early, even though it's almost one in the morning and he typically never even so much as waves you goodbye whenever you leave.

He doesn't mind the slight bullying from his hyungs after he'd waved after your leaving form before you dissappear from his sight.

Jungkook isn't kind.

He likes to portray himself as such, whenever it’s needed, but he’s unable to quite make this characteristic a part of himself truly. It’s not like he’s a bad person, not at all; it's just that he can't help himself when it comes to you. He's quite the sadist really, always bathing in the slight pout and amusing anger radiating off of you whenever he does something to rile you up. It's just like now; even though he knows you hate it, he loves to take advantage of the difference in height between the two of you. He laughes while holding his bowl of cereal while you struggle on the very tips of your toes in the kitchen, trying to reach the pack of sweet breakfast treats that he had placed way higher than necessary.

But it's when you climb onto the counter that several things happen.

First, it's the unintended panty-shot he gets, his pupils practically zooming in on the soft pink fabric on display for his greedy self, making him feel like a schoolboy that just sneaked a glimpse of a naughty magazine his friend had brought into class. It makes his mind fill with images of you, oh-so sweetly laying underneath his form as he pulls the cotton fabric to the side, ready and wanting as you patiently wait for him to connect your souls and bodies in the most intimate of ways.

The other thing however wipes away those images, as his doe eyes widen. It's the realization that you're wearing pink fuzzy socks, on a marbled kitchen counter, the danger of slipping as high as it can be. He knows you're clumsy, knows you're always attracting trouble wherever you go, and it's the small moment of your knee bending, your foot a breath too far off the counter, as you suddenly loose balance. He practically throws his almost empty bowl on the kitchen table before he reaches you, luckily managing to make you fall ontop of him than the cold kitchen tiles below.

At first, it's awfully quiet- there is no one here other than him and you after all. Then, the pain hits him, drumming like the beat of his favorite song, making him drop his head on the floor with a groan. You immediately move at that, getting off of him as you look for anthing that could be the cause. It's when he holds his hand, red seeping through between his fingers that you move. Grabbing kitchen towels for first aid, you help him as best as you can, as he watches you, pain already not so bad anymore as he looks at your delicate hands working on his larger ones with so much care.

He's ready to use it to his fun, yet he stops himself when he sees the tears on our cheeks. "Why're you crying?" He asks, and you suddenly sob more loudly, sniffling as you continue to try and clean his scrape on the back of his palm with running water. He shuts the water off, his hand not even bleeding that much anyways anymore, as he holds your shoulders, body folding over a bit to properly look at you. "Hey hey, why're you crying? I'm hurt here!" He chuckles, but it doesn't seem to do much good- as you just continue.

He suddenly grows more gentle, the hug a bit awkward at first, the close proximity weird for you both, but once he starts to softly rock you both from side to side, his unhurt hand running over your back before he sloppily wipes your tears off of your face- intentionally messily to make you giggle and push his hands off. "You're such a crybaby!" He laughs, as you hold his hand in yours, looking at it again.

"Does it hurt?" You ask, looking up at him, and he swallows hardly as he suddenly grows uneasy with the closeness of you two.

"No, it's just a scratch." He says, suddenly cleaning up the kitchen table where he spilled some of his leftover cereal and milk- simply using it as something to distract himself to calm down. "Why were you even climbing there at all? That's dangerous as hell." He said. "You could've just asked me to get it for you." He ends, and its the most truthful thing he's ever said to you.

Because that's where his deepest intentions with you were hiding. He's so used to being the youngest, of getting away with so much and getting babied by everyone around him, staff or his members, that he craves to take care of someone instead for once. He wants you to ask him for help. He wants you to hide behind his back when you're terrified of Taehuyungs tickle-attacks, he wants you to loose to him when playing video games, just so he can pull you onto his lap, his hands over yours on the controller to show you how its done. He wants you to proudly tell him of any achievement you manage to make no matter how small, just to gain his praise.

He needs you to need him.

Because whenever he's with you, he knows that those compliments and that pure amazement on your face is not because you want something in return, it's simply what it is. You make him feel so appreciated, so desired, so wanted for himself and not for his outside qualities. Because at the same time he loves how passionate you get whenever you notice that you know something better than him- how excited you get when you explain something to namjoon or to Hobi. He want's you to teach him things too, he want's to know what you can do, what you're better at, not because he want's to get better than you, but because he knows you're so much smarter in so many things than he is.

It's your voice that gets him out of his internal terror.

"Oh.. I didn't want to bother you though." You meekly say, and he wants to groan at this, to throw a fit, to be frustrated with you because that's exactly what you never ever do; you could never bother him to the point where he would refuse to help. No, he wants you to bother him. "I-what?" You say, and he suddenly turns around abruptly.

"What?" He asks, terrified if what he thinks just happened really did.

"You said 'But I want you to bother me'..?" You ask, and he wants to slap himself.

"I- I mean, I meant it in like, you can bother me, it doesn't matter much, you know?" He scrambles out, drying his hands after washing his bowl and leaving it in the sink. He suddenly grows uneasy with you in the room, yet he stills at your next words as if frozen in time.

"Oh.. I-" You start, before you step closer. "Thank you then, Jungkookie. I appreciate it." But its not only that, it's the tiny sentence you say and the action that follows that simply fries his mind. "You're not so bad after all." And you place a small kiss against his cheek.

You kiss his cheek.

Your soft lips touched his skin.

And he stands there for a while longer, not knowing what to do.

Jungkook isn't kind.

But over the course of days where you start to grow more and more comfortable, more daring, and more used to understand his language, he slowly mutates into an overgrown puppy.

He demands your attention, loves the way you blush under his teasing, and craves the way you squirm around whenever he's close to you. He's almost certain he's got a chance with you, making his own creativity thrive under your spell. He takes more photos than ever before, starts to be even more active (after you'd accidentally let it slip that you actually like how strong he is and that it makes you feel safe), and all in all simply falls for you.

But its all gone to waste at a certain dinner with his hyungs, that his food suddenly tastes stale, and his appetite is gone. "I want to confess to her, you know? I think I really got a chance." Jimin says, and Yoongi glances at Jungkook, concerned for the youngest since he knows his secret crush. "I mean she even gets along with the brat here!" He playfully says, playfully hitting Jungkooks shoulder lightly, but he doesn't seem an innocent gesture in it. No, Jungkook is riled up, and suddenly stands at the table, taking his cutlery and dishes to discard them in the sink. "Jungkook?" Jimin asks, confused, but Yoongi shakes his head with a sigh after the youngest simply retreated into his room for an early night.

"Jimin, I don't think that's a good idea." Yoongi says, and Namjoon seems confused. "I don't intend to be rude, but your interest changes weekly. Now it's her, the next week its someone else. Jungkook however-" He calmly explains, ignoring the slightly offended look of the dancer across from him. "You know him. He's never shown interest before- in anyone." Jimin slowly seems to understand, as Taehyung nods at it. "He really likes her. Think about it. Once you take that step, there's no going back. There's no 'lets stay friends if we break up' because that's just awkward. There's no second chance for Jungkook."

Jimin slowly nods, suddenly without much taste for his food as well. "I didn't know, honestly."

"It was kind of hard to see not gonna lie." Hoseok chimes in, putting his chopsticks down as he swallows the last bite of food. "He's all over her recently." He explains, and everyone nods.

This wasn't just a simple crush for him.

This was full blown love.

Jungkook isn't kind.

But he also can't say no to you.

He wants to be mad, he really tried to as well. But it's just- he sees your smile and hears your voice, and he's all in your hands, ready and willing to your very command. That's how he finds himself at your tiny apartment, helping you to put up some of your latest paintings on your walls- because initially you'd asked if he or his hyungs had a ladder in his dorm, but after you'd told him you'd use it to climb up to hang some paintings, he'd instead told you he'd help you instead, just to make sure you wouldn't fall and have an accident or something.

He want's to be mad, because he knows Jimin must've made his move at this point.

You seem so at ease, so happy, your steps so light and almost jumpy he wants to cry internally at how cute you are, for someone that isn't him.

"Ah, yes, that's perfect!" You say, and he slowly steps down from your chair he'd burrowed to boost his height a little, your hands weakly trying to steady him while he finally reaches the floor again. "I've made some cold stew yesterday, do you wanna stay and eat a little?" You ask, and he wants to nod, but doesn't.

"I don't wanna intrude or something." He says, grimply smiling as he brings the chair back into the kitchen area where it came from. He hates how deflated you suddenly look, how almost sad you simply nod as you trail after him like a lost pet, something many would find bothering, yet he loved it. He loved how you were always around him like a little shadow, as if to silently stay close to him. "So, you and uhm.. Jimin?" He asks suddenly, unable to keep the words inside.You blink, once, twice, before tilting your head in question. "He.. hasn't talked to you?" He asked, and you shook your head.

"No, what would he want to talk about with me?" You ask, and a very terrifying thought comes into his mind, like a tiny devil on his shoulder whispering in his ear. He hasn't made his move yet, so if he plays his cards right, he could still steal you from him quick and swift. You'd be his, he knows you're too kind to say no if he confessed, and Jimin would stand no chance. But just like the tiny devil, a tiny angel was there as well. Who was he to interfere with someone else's romantic life? He knew Jimin liked you enough to ask you out, and even though his hyung was never one to stay long, it would be an absolute dick move of him to ruin his chances.

But he loved you.

"Oh, you mean about you and me!" You suddenly said, and Jungkook almost choked on his saliva. "He said something about you liking me, and uh, that I should confess to you even though I know you're not interested in me like that- I'm sorry if he said something weird, it's just a weird crush, I'll get over it-" But he short-circuits, and blurts out what comes to his mind before he can think about it.

"Don't!" He says, a little too loud, and your eyes grow wide. "Don't.. get over it. I-" He's suddenly confused, overwhelmed, and has no idea how to handle this sudden turn of events properly. Should he kiss you now like in the movies or something? But he should also ask if he should, otherwise its without consent, but it would kind of ruin the moment, and oh god why do his hands suddenly get sweaty, thats so gross-

It's the shy and delicate touch to the very tips of his fingers, hand splaid out on the kitchen table that you're touching with yours, cheeks red and eyes down, and he suddenly thinks, 'fuck those movies', as he leans in and kisses you, slowly, just to make sure you're okay with it.

You're so okay with it.

He grows hungry at the movement of your lips, brows furrowing as he lets himself ride this wave of pure euphoria, holding your cheeks so lightly that you barely feel his touch at all. You snake your arms around his head as you tug him down a bit more, and his neck aches, so he simply reaches for your behind to help you up on the kitchen table for better leverage. "You're-" He starts between kisses, and can't help his smile. "-mine." He ends, and you nod with excitement, just as high on happiness as he is. "Can I, like-" He starts, almost frustrated with how he can't stop his lips from chasing yours even if he's the one talking. "-Touch you?" He finally gets out, and again, you nod, even if the tips of your ears grow a bit red at the suggestive question. His hands suddenly wander, over your shoulders down your sides, before they find your thighs. He loves the softness of them, his fingers on your knees as he opens your legs so he can get even closer to you. As if on instinct, your socked feet pull him towards you, and he chuckles at that, finally slipping his tongue between your lips as you push a hand into his dark hair, making him groan. He cups the sides of your breasts at first, delicately feeling them, before he squeezes gently, getting a proper idea of their plushness under his fingers.

He loves them already.

"I don't-" He starts, and is breathless just as you are as he places his kisses on the side of your neck. "I don't wanna fuck you on the kitchen table baby." He finally gets out, and you mewl at that. "Hm?" He asks, but you shake your head, too shy to say anything to that. He suddenly reaches for your behind, lifting you against his chest as he walks around with you, making you and himself laugh as he opens the wrong door before he finally finds your bedroom- cozy and cold due to the open window you always leave so that you can sleep better at night. You sigh at the cool feeling of the sheets underneath your hot body, and he grins down at you as he can't feel anything but pure ecstasy. Suddenly, he laughs, and groans lodly against your chest as he lets his forehead rest against it.

"What?" You ask between a laugh, and he begins to whine.

"I don't have a condom, fuck." He drawls out, and he really feels like an idiot. He's a fully grown man, he should have shit like that with him at all times, especially when he knows he's gonna visit his crush- but its so sudden, so unprepared, that he simply didn't think this would ever happen. He's deflated, painfully hard, and frustrated with himself, as you speak up again.

"Uhm, theres an orange handbag in the bathroom, its like, next to the shower. I think I still have one in there."You say, and he looks up questioningly. "It was a joke-present from a friend, please don't ask." You say, growing shy again as he simply chuckles, before getting up and searching for the bag you mentioned. It's safe to say that he doesn't only find the condom, but also a still fully packaged vibrator toy, in the same bag. His interest is definetely woken, but he decides against using it to tease you this time.

He'd get his chance soon.

But in that moment, as he climbs ontop of the bed again, it's all about you and him- its not about mindblowing sex or unusual experiences. He just wants to be inside you, close to you, he wants to claim you in ways that only lovers can. He's surprised, when he takes off his shirt, that you suddenly hold your arms high.

You're absolutely adorable in his eyes.

He chuckles as he helps you out of your sweater, kissing your nose, your cheeks, your lips, as he unhooks your bra to finally get a skin to skin feel of your breasts. He loves it even more like this, warm and soft under his palms, and you mewl in enjoyment as he continues his antics. He doesn't even notice when you'd discarded your shorts and underwear, his pants gone in a flash as his inked fingers reach between your legs to sloppily prepare you for him.

He knows he's a bit more on the.. bigger side, to say the least, a grower more than a shower, and it used to make him nervous in a weird kind of way. You're so delicate, so sweet, that he doesn't want to hurt you, and hes slow and steady as he finally enters you after putting on his protection. But you take it, you're such a champ, and pull him towards you by his neck as he moves slowly.

He picks up his pace at your demand, lost in euphoria as he lets himself go, lets himself enjoy as his mind is filled with your voice, your sounds, your scent, your everything. This is what he wanted, this is where he wants to stay for the rest of time. Not nescessarly buried withing you (although that's not a bad sound he thinks), but in your embrace, within your presence. He want's to stay at your side forever, keep you close to him so no one can hurt you, not even yourself.

He comes with a whine, an arch of his back, and his fingers on your pearl, desperate to get you over the edge as well.

It works.

And he's happy, exhausted, and absolutely in love as he falls down the mattress at your side.

"I always thought it would be weird." You said after you'd both taken a shower and cleaned up properly. He'd texted his hyungs, telling them with obnoxious emoticons that he's spending the night with his girlfriend, and Jimin plus Yoongi had reacted with a vomiting emoji.

Yet they were happy.

"What would be weird?" Jungkook asks, his hand running up and down your arm as you laid next to him, snuggled up onto his body.

"You know, having sex." You said, and it takes a moment before he suddenly snaps his head to you.

"Wait, that was your first time?!" He exclaimed, utterly shocked at it as he'd been convinced you weren't a virgin. You have had boyfriends before, he knew that, hell, he'd seen them too, and considering you were pretty close agewise he couldn't imagine. He feels bad about it, if he'd known, he would've made it more special, hell he would've asked you more times if you were okay with him taking something so precious from you. Now you could never get it back and he'd fucked it up.

"I mean, kind of?" You explained, suddenly hiding your face. "I mean, I've done, like, stuff with men before.. and I also used a.. you know, 'thing', but like, never the real.." You tried to come up with different names for the things you wanted to say, yet you simply ceased to talk.

Jungkook chuckled. "You used what? A dildo? Like, a fake dick?" He said, and you hit his chest with a whine, utterly mortified by his way of talking. "Come on I saw that vibrator in your bag there, but I never though you were a virgin!" He said, and you whined again.

"Technically I wasn't!"

He scoffed playfully. "Baby your first time was with a toy considering what you just told me, that STILL means you were a virgin!" He argued, and you groaned, trying to get out of his grasp now. "Come on, at least tell me if my dick was better than that rubber-cock?" He asked, and laughed full on at the way you hid your face behind your hands with a yell. "Don't hurt my ego, say it!" He laughs, and tickles your sides.

"Yeah yeah okay, your dick was better stop!" You laugh, and he grins, suddenly pulling you close to him as he hides his face in your hair.

"Oh baby-" He sighes out. "I love you so much."

"And I hate you." You mumble, before he playfully bites your ear.

"Jungkook no, they could see-!" Yet he doesn't let up, uncaring. The hotel they were staying at had a strict privacy policy- at this point his agency could ruin

them with a snap of their fingers just because they leaked a single strand of his hair. He wasn't concerned at all, as he continued to bite and kiss at your neck,

unable to keep his hands to himself as he grows hard.

He loves the high he gets from being in danger of getting caught.

Its silly, in a way, but it feels like a rush of some sorts. It's like he's a teenager again, sneaking in candy even though he's on a diet just to feel bratty, and its not

much different now, even though the scale is another. This was actually dangerous, but since no one else was staying at the hotel, and his hyungs had all gone

to bed, he refused to give in.

He wanted you, and he would take you.

Jungkook never liked sharing, nor giving away what was his when he himself didn't openly give it away. What was his, was his, there was no room for

discussion, even though he'd become a bit more understanding nowadays. Yet he would never let anyone see you like this, so vulnerable and wanting for him,

ready to become his slave to quench his thirst for you at anytime. You loved him just as much as he loved you, and this exchange of feelings always got him

riled up to the point of desperation.

Just like now, as he helps you stay afloat with his forearms underneath your own arms, kissing you silly while he pushes his thigh upwards underwater, feeling

you rut agains it like an animal in heat. He loved how you got whenever he pushed your buttons right, loved the sight, the sound, the entire situation. It ruined

porn for him in a way, modern erotica in no way reaching the level of satisfactory aesthetic that the sight of you could bring him. He'd taken pictures and videos

of you in nude positions and explicit situations to keep him entertained whenever he was far away, because whatever he found online of strangers couldn't bring

him a release worth working for anymore.

So it was utterly welcomed by him, when you had surprisingly told him that you had arranged to share the hotel room with him, and that you were tagging along for two weeks of his tour. Of course, his happiness was mostly simple enjoyment that you were there at his side, that you would sleep right next to him, yet it also was of a more carnal side of himself. And now, while his blood was still hot like lava inside his veins, adrenalin still high from his last concert, he was desperate to let go, end this day in a way he never thought he properly could.

He sloppily pushed the barrier between himself and your core to the side underwater, pulling his length out of his swimtrunks as well, uncaring on making it romantic. He knew he didn't need to always go overboard, he was clingy and touchy enough that you always felt appreciated and loved, even if he was impatient like that. He groaned out, mixed with a chuckle as he suddenly realized what he was doing, dipping his head down into the crook of your neck to bite and leave open mouthed kisses, rhythm just as steady and on-point as onstage just hours ago.

He came quicker than he'd liked, tattooed hand gently pushing you over the edge as well. you whined as he helped you out the pool, utterly mortified but still happy at the way he simply picked you up bridal style, carrying you out and back into your room, ready for a good nights' sleep.

The best he had ever gotten while on tour.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions

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narutogwriting · 3 years

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I’m Ready

Pairing: Naruto Uzumaki x Reader

CW: SLIGHT nsfw, cavity inducing fluff Length: 2.9k+

Summary: You and Naruto have been dating for a year now. After having to be seperated for so long, the war is finally over, and Naruto knows he wants to stay by your side forever

Could be considered a sequel to “Touch Starved” or stand on its own

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

Two days. The Fourth Great Ninja War had only lasted two days, but it felt like a lifetime. Maybe because of everything that happened leading up to the war. It was hard to picture it all now, the smaller battles, the trainings, even the way your friendships had been built up over the last few months. The war only lasted two days, but it was years in the making.

And now it was over. Lives were lost and the world was forever changed, but somehow good had triumphed the way it did in all the books and movies.

Well, not somehow.

Winning the war was a team effort, every person in every village had done their part, even gave their lives, but you knew what you’d always known.

None of it would have been possible without Naruto.

Ever since you’d met him when you were both twelve years old, you knew there was something different, something special about Naruto Uzumaki. By the time you’d met, everyone else was starting to figure it out too, but you knew right away. You couldn’t have imagined just how special, how important, Naruto would be to the world, but you’d had no doubt in your mind right off the bat that Naruto was going to do great things.

When Naruto asked you to be his girlfriend when you were both sixteen, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. You couldn’t believe that Naruto wanted it to be you by his side as he took on the world. That spot next to him had always been occupied by you anyways. You wouldn’t have known how to step aside if he were to love someone else.

But it was you he loved. Things had moved so fast between the two of you. One day you were best friends and by that night, you were his girlfriend, falling asleep in his arms and kissing him goodnight. You’d already lived together at that point; it already felt like you and Naruto were spending your life together.

It wasn’t even a full week later that Naruto had let the “L” word slip. The two of you were at the training grounds, but you hadn’t been in the mood to train. You went with Naruto since he wanted to work on target practice, but you had decided to sit back in the shade, writing in your notebook as you leaned against a tree.

“Did you see that!?” Naruto had called. You glanced up from your book to see that he’d hit the bullseye dead on, and he was grinning excitedly at you.

“Good job, Naruto. But you always hit the bullseye.” You gave a small laugh, glancing back down at your notebook. You missed the pout on Naruto’s face.

What Naruto had been asking you if you saw was the backflip he’d done as he threw the kunai--he had to challenge himself after all. But you were hardly paying attention to him, too caught up in your writing. Well that wasn’t going to stand.

A moment later, you felt wind past your hair as a thud came from the tree above you. You looked at the tree to see a kunai lodged in the trunk just over your head before looking back at Naruto to see a smug smirk.

“Naruto!” You snapped, closing your book. “Are you crazy!?”

He giggled like a child, rubbing the back of his head. “Like you said, I always hit my mark. I wasn’t gonna hit you!” But you were already on your feet, charging him and tackling him to the ground. Naruto’s back hit the floor with a thud, and you could hear the air escape him. Straddling him, you placed your hands on his chest and stared down at him.

“Did you really need my attention that badly?” You asked him curiously, tilting your head. Naruto was looking at you with those wide, beautiful blue eyes that sparkled in the sunlight. He stared at you so intensely, so earnestly, that it made you blush. “What?” You muttered, glancing away in embarrassment.

Naruto sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you close to him on his lap. Slowly, you turned your head back to look at him, captivated by all that was Naruto. You were feeling more shy than you ever had before, but Naruto looked and felt as sure as ever as he took you in. “I love you is all.” He grinned at you, leaving a big kiss on your cheek.

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you were fully, completely, totally wrapped up in Naruto. You didn’t think you’d ever get free, and you knew for a fact that you never wanted to.

It was later that night that Naruto took your virginity. It was slow and sweet and awkward and clumsy--everything a girl could hope for for her first time. Naruto kissed you everywhere his lips could touch, his eyes took in every inch of your body. You don’t think you’d ever been so nervous in your life.

But it was Naruto, and like everything else, he made you feel brave. You couldn’t help but wonder how he knew what to do so effortlessly. You had no idea how anxious the whole thing made Naruto because he was so attentive to your needs.

Naruto would later admit to you sheepishly that he’d done a lot of research to make sure he didn’t hurt you. He took it slow when his fingers pressed inside you for the first time, pumping and curling experimentally as he listened to your body to know when he was doing it right.

His thumb clumsily circled your clit as he slid inside you slowly, taking his time despite the urge to just sheathe himself completely. Your fingers gripped his shoulders as you rocked into him despite the pinching pain. And then, suddenly, it didn’t hurt anymore, and your stomach began to flutter. It didn’t last long, with Naruto spilling inside you sooner than he would have liked, but you felt satisfied, on cloud nine, nonetheless.

You couldn’t figure out if it was a blessing or a curse the way your and Naruto’s relationship progressed so quickly, because as soon as everything seemed perfect with the two of you, everything else began to change.

Naruto took the world by storm just like you always knew he would, and the two of you were separated more and more. You wanted to be with him at every point, but you were both ninjas with different roles. You did your best to keep focused, but you missed Naruto terribly when he was gone, and you always feared that he would forget about you. He was quickly gaining the respect of not just the village, but the whole world, just like he’d always wanted. Now that he had everyone else’s attention, would yours matter to him as much?

But when Jiraya died, Naruto wanted nothing more than to be in your arms. There was no one else that could have brought him back from the brink, that darkness that had seemed so overwhelming. You weren’t there in his fight with Pein, you couldn’t be, but he wished you were.

When he meets Minato, finds out that the Fourth Hokage is his father, he can’t help but tell him about you, how despite how miserable and alone so much his childhood had been, he’d do it all over again as long as it led him to you. And his father tells him how happy he is, that if he and Naruto’s mother couldn’t be there for him, that at least you had found Naruto.

And Naruto smiles at that, because you did find him, right when he needed you. He’s confident that in any time or place, any lifetime, you would find him again. And he would find you.

When Naruto meets his mother, it goes much the same. He learns how Kushina and Minato fell in love, a story he never would have imagined he would get to hear. Kushina doesn’t miss his blush when she tells him to find someone like her, and he tells her that he already has. Shyly, Naruto tells his mom about you, how you were his constant, and how much he loves you. It brings them both to tears, because neither of them ever imagined they would have this moment.

And Naruto can’t wait to tell you about it all, but your time together is so few and far between, and you spend most of it in each other’s arms. Every time you touch him again, the relief in you is almost violent, because every time one of you leaves, you’re not sure if you’ll see each other again.

Many lives are lost in the time leading up to the end of the war, but by some miracle of the universe, you and Naruto are left standing. Even so, as he and Sasuke laid barely on the brink of consciousness, both short one arm as Sakura cried over them, you kept your space. It was a scene you knew Naruto had been dreaming about for years, his one real wish to have Sasuke back.

So you’re happy, excited, relieved for Naruto to have his best friend home, but you’re scared too, terrified, really, of what this will mean for your relationship. Now that Naruto has the one thing he’d been dreaming about for years, would that change the way he felt about you?

You’d had enough foresight to buy birthday presents for Naruto early before any stores became a casualty to the battle. With so much destroyed, Naruto couldn’t believe it when he woke up in the hospital surrounded by balloons and streamers, and of course you. “Happy birthday, Naruto.” You smiled from your seat by his bed. And Naruto wasn’t ashamed by the fact that he was crying, because you loved him, and you were here, and even if one day he lost everything else in the world, he had you.

In the days that follow the war, Naruto hears stories of what everyone had experienced in the Infinite Tsukuyomi. He wonders what he would have seen had he been trapped inside. Sasuke being home was a given, and now it was reality. He didn’t have to dream.

He knew for a fact that you would have been in it. And he would be with you forever. That was his dream, what he wanted even more than becoming Hokage one day. He couldn’t imagine his life without you, and he hated how much time he had had to spend away from you for the past months. He never wanted to have to go a day without you again.

It’s only a week that Naruto was in the hospital. Tsunade wanted to keep him in for longer, but Naruto couldn’t stand to spend another night not laying in bed with you. Which meant that he was almost completely bedridden for another week after he came home, with you waiting on him hand and foot.

“You did this on purpose,” you teased him, helping him sit up as you fed him ramen. “You just wanted to make me take care of you.” Naruto just grinned at you in response.

“Having a beautiful girl feeding me ramen? That’s like, the ultimate fantasy!”

You still thought it was too soon, but Naruto was up and moving by week three, eager to get back to training. “You’ve missed all the cool things I’ve learned, too. I have to show you.” Naruto bragged.

Poking the stub that was his right arm, you laughed. “Better let Tsunade fix this then, if you want to show me anything new.”

Naruto pouted. “But I’ll have to be in the hospital overnight…” He protested. You gave him a soft peck, rolling your eyes at him.

“I think we can survive one more night apart.” You made a move to pull back, but he secured his arm around your waist, kissing you again.

“Just one more night?”

Naruto had gone in the night before to get his new arm. He’d pouted and tantrumed and tried to put it off, but finally told Tsuande he was ready.

“It’s just one more night,” you’d promised him as you said goodbye, wrapping your arms around him.

He kissed your head. “Fine. But promise me something?” he asked. You nodded, looking up at him.

“Of course,”

“Meet me tomorrow on the hokage heads at six?”

So that’s where you were heading now. The sun was beginning to set, lighting the sky up with beautiful hues of purples, oranges, and pinks. You smiled as you climbed the stairs thinking of all the days twelve year old you and Naruto had spent sitting up here, talking about your dreams. You were so young then, neither of you had the foresight to imagine you would be where you were now.

As you got to the top of the mountain, your heart leaped seeing the setup Naruto had waiting for you. A blanket was laid out on the ground, surrounded by lit candles. Plush pillows filled the blankets for comfort as well as glasses of sparkling champagne with your favorite dessert.

He stood there waiting for you with his bandaged hand, and you realized you’d never seen anything as beautiful as Naruto, and you found yourself running to him, jumping into his arms and kissing him deeply as you wrapped your legs around him.

Laughing, he kissed you back, holding you to him tightly. “I missed you too,” he laughed when you pulled away.

You beamed at him, and it made his breath hitch. You were so gorgeous. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that someone would look at him the way you do, and his eyes started to well up realizing just how lucky he was to have you.

As he set you down, you gave a small laugh. “Naruto, are you crying?” You asked him, reaching up to touch his cheek.

He scratched the back of his head as he stared down at you. “I can’t help it… I just love you so much…” You smiled at him, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Ya know, all that time we spent apart, I thought of you almost every second. Even when I got to talk to my mom and dad… I just wanted to tell them about you…” He took your hands in his, looking at you with a level of admiration that made you blush.

“And, ya know, I know you think it was silly that I didn’t want to go get my new arm cause I didn’t want to spend the night at the hospital, but I just don’t want to have to be away from you again. Not ever.”

You looked at Naruto almost curiously as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. “I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him.

Naruto gave a soft smile, so different from his usual animated grin. “I know,” he said quietly as he began to drop down to his knee. Your jaw dropped as one hand went to cover your mouth.

“N-naruto… What are you doing?” You asked.

“I love you. So much. And for so long, since we were twelve.” He said, looking up at you. “I never really realized how much I was missing all my life until you came into it. And it was all worth it, all my loneliness, all that time I spent feeling like an outsider… Because when you came into my life, all that pain turned into so much happiness, I thought my heart would burst. I didn’t know I could survive being so happy after being so alone for so long.”

Tears were falling freely from both of your eyes. You didn’t know when you’d started crying, but now you couldn’t stop.

“We’ve all been through so much in such a short amount of time… I could’ve lost it all. I could’ve lost you. But I didn’t, and I’m so lucky I didn’t.” Naruto continued, smiling through his tears. You tried to quiet your sobs so you could hear him better. “And it’s because of that,” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. “That I want to make sure I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you forever. Will you marry me?”

Disbelief. You couldn’t believe this wasn’t your imagination, that this was really happening. “Naruto… We’re only seventeen, we’ve been dating for like a year!” You laughed, and he just grinned confidently.

“I know,” he told you. “I know we’re young, but I know that I love you, and I know that I want to be with you forever. I’m ready. What do you say?”

He almost dropped the ring because you were on him in a second, tackling him to the floor, peppering his face with kisses. “Yes,” you cried between kisses. “Yes of course! I love you. I love you so much.”

“Wait, the ring!” Naruto laughed, waving around the box. “I spent a lot of money on this, ya know! You should at least look at it!” But you just kept on kissing him.

“I’d marry you with a paper ring,” you told him before pressing your lips to his. “Any time, any place. As long as I get to be with you.”

Naruto wiped at his cheeks, staring at you through his blurry eyes. Every time he thought he couldn’t get any happier, you proved him wrong.

He finally was able to grab your hand and slide the ring on it. “Now you’re never gonna get rid of me.” He told you before giving you another kiss.

“Promise?” You asked him with shining eyes?

Naruto couldn’t understand it. How had he ever gotten so lucky?

“Promise.”

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seijorhi · 4 years

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Cry-Baby

A commissioned continuation of this soulmate AU by the lovely @pokemonfreak666 - thanks for your patience, bby!!

Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader, Kirishima Eijiro x Female Reader

TW non-con, nsfw, double penetration, rough fucking, minor mentions of blood, kidnapping

The water’s not hot enough.

It should be; it should burn. The knob’s twisted all the way up, steam rising in billowing clouds, fogging up the bathroom mirror, but it’s not hot enough. You can still feel them on you. Everything else – the blood, saliva, their cum, you’d watched it swirl down the drain, sitting on the shower floor, arms curled tightly around yourself as if that was the only thing keeping you from falling apart and shattering entirely.

But the water’s scalding, and you can still feel your soulmates’ hands crawling over you… their mouths… their cocks tearing you apart from the inside out. Why won’t it wash away? You’ve scrubbed and scrubbed, your skin’s red and raw but the filthy feeling won’t go.

And they’re just outside. Sitting in your bedroom, or maybe wandering around your living room, sprawled across your couch flipping through channels on the TV. Maybe they’re out there looking at the pictures that line your walls, you and your family, your friends. Fuck, maybe they’re in your kitchen, rifling through your fridge for a late night snack after fucking their soulmate six ways from Sunday.

You can’t go back out there. You don’t want to see them.

Is it awful to hope for some kind of horrifying villain attack or massive accident to force them to go and leave you in peace?

… Would they?

You can’t imagine Pro Heroes not running off to do their duty, but before a few hours ago, you couldn’t imagine them holding somebody down and raping them either, and clearly they had no qualms about doing that, so maybe your Heroes aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.

Then again, what difference would leaving make? They know where you live, probably where you work. There’s no anonymity anymore, it’s not like you can just slip away and hide from them.

You’ve been in the bathroom too long already, you know that – you can almost feel their anxious energy seeping through the crack in the door. Too much longer and they’ll surely come bursting in.

Patience clearly wasn’t their strong point, and it’s nothing short of a miracle they let you come in and shower alone. Kirishima at least had been more than eager to come join you, grinning widely and tugging you by the arm towards the bathroom– it’d been Bakugou, watching you pale and flinch through red, unreadable eyes who’d reined him back in.

Maybe he saw how scared you were, how fragile the thread that was holding you together was. Maybe he thought that gifting you these precious minutes alone after what they did would in any way come close to starting to mend the damage they’d just wrought.

Maybe he just hadn’t cared enough beyond getting his dick wet.

You’d grown up thinking your soulmates would make you happy, love you in a way that nobody else ever could. The possibility of ever deliberately hurting them seemed like such a foreign and uncomfortable concept to you. But obviously they didn’t care enough about your feelings or your lack of consent to stop them from forcing themselves onto you, maybe you were nothing but an object to them. Something to take and fuck, because naturally you were made for them.

What did it matter if you didn’t want it?

Your eyes drift down to the timers on your wrists, run down to zero. A quaking sob rips from your throat and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip to stifle it.

“Why am I even here? In less than an hour you’re gonna meet them, and what am I supposed to do then, hmm?” your friend had asked with a laugh. “Be the world’s most awkward fourth wheel?”

You’d laughed with her, knocking your shoulders against hers with a fond little smile, “Well if they’re gonna be in my life for the long haul, don't you think it’s important that they meet the person who matters to me the most right off the bat?”

You’re terrified of going back out there and facing them, but what other option do you have? The only window in the bathroom is too high and too small to squeeze through, and even if you could, getting an apartment on the seventh floor had seemed like a great idea at the time, but it doesn’t exactly lend itself to an easy getaway.

The flimsy lock on the bathroom door is all that’s keeping them out – with their strength it’s hardly much of a barrier at all, but it’s all you have.

Here in your bathroom, under the scalding water, you’re safe. They can’t hurt you.

You’d like to think that now they’ve gotten what they wanted, now that they know that you can’t run and their reputations can’t be tarnished, they’ll go. And there’s a little voice inside your head that tells you it’s a stupid, foolish hope. You know that the moment you set foot outside that door, things’ll never be the same again.

A few years back, you read an article on some tabloid website about an up and coming Hero who’d disappeared out of the blue after joining Hawks’ agency as an intern. Supposedly, they were soulmates, and once the Pro realised it, he’d swooped her up and taken her to some secret safe house to hide her away from the rest of the world, supposedly ‘for her own protection’. It was all rumours, of course. No way for them to actually prove the theory – and no one actually cared about some missing, low level Hero at the end of the day. It was news for a week and then everybody moved on.

Are they gonna do the same thing to you?

Spirit you away to some hideout where they can keep you all to themselves – so they can fuck you whenever they want without having to worry about you running off? You’ll never see your family again, or your friends… they’ll be your entire world, and just like that intern, everybody else will forget you ever existed.

Or maybe they’ll be satisfied enough just forcing themselves into your life, letting you go back to your job, your boring, mundane nine to five, never knowing when they’re going to pop up and take what they want. They’ll come over and play house, acting as if this is a normal relationship, waiting for you to come around and accept them.

Love them.

The thoughts makes bile rise in your throat. Your entire body aches from inside out. There’s bitemarks and bruises littering your skin, marks that won’t fade for days… you can’t let them do this to you again.

As if they can hear your panicked thoughts, a knock sounds on the bathroom door, and your heart clenches.

“Hey, babe?” Kirishima calls out, “You okay? You’ve kinda been in there a while…”

That same voice, chanting breathlessly above you, “I love you, I love you– f-fuck– I love you!”

Panic, cloying and sharp tears at you. You try to answer, tell him to leave you alone, that you need more time, but the words catch in your throat and all that comes out is a pitiful squeak and he knocks again, louder, more insistent and it’s too much.

They're gonna break down the door and hurt you again. Hot tears well up and spill down your cheeks with an audible sob, and you clutch at yourself tighter, willing them away–

“Babe? Talk to us, sweetheart, you’re making us worried.”

The door handle jiggles insistently, and you bury your face between your knees breathing rapidly, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna break it down, they’re gonna–

“Move, Kiri,” Bakugou snaps.

You don’t register the snap of the lock breaking or the frantic footsteps that approach, the harsh sound of your heaving gasps drowning out all else. Then suddenly there’s strong, muscular arms pulling you out from the water with a muffled curse.

It’s Kirishima who’s holding you, you realise as a flash of blond darts back behind you to turn the shower off. And it’s suffocating, the way he clutches at you, big hands running along your back, pulling you closer, holding you tighter, words of comfort you can’t hear over the pounding of your own heart spilling from his lips.

And then Bakugou’s face is filling your vision, the scowl on his face growing more pronounced as he studies you – shaking, teary, eyes wide and swimming with fear–

Something inside of you just gives and you don’t fight it when the darkness swallows you whole.

—

When you come to, you’re lying on something soft – a bed, you realise, but not your own. There’s an arm slung over your waist; corded with muscles, tan, covered in fine, golden hair and faint white scars; Bakugou’s.

Which means that the warm breath gently tickling at your neck must belong to him as well.

You’re not naked at least; a quick glance down at your body revealing they’d dressed you in one of your old tees and a pair of panties. You’re not sure whether that observation is supposed to calm or unnerve you; you’d rather be clothed than not, but the thought of your soulmates rifling through your things, dressing you while you were unconscious… is not a pleasant one.

“You’re awake.” It’s an observation, not a question. His voice is gruff, an edge of sleepiness clinging to the words, but it lacks the heat you’ve come to expect from the explosive Hero. He sounds comfortable almost – at least that’s the sense you get as his face presses up against the nape of your neck, his arm drawing you closer with a low groan.

Still, you haven’t uttered a sound.

It feels surreal, lying there in your captor’s arms – and he is your captor, soulmate or no, there’s no denying that fact anymore. There’s a part of you that realises that you should be panicking, kicking scratching and clawing because you don’t know where you are, but it’s certainly not your apartment and you definitely don’t want him touching you after what he’s already put you through.

But rather than the sheer, unrelenting panic that had gripped you before, it’s just… nothing. Dormant, lying simmering just below the surface, and you’re almost scared to draw breath, to shatter the sweet, tender facade between the two of you.

There’s no point in asking where you are, no point in demanding he let you go. They’ve shown you that what you want doesn’t matter here, so instead you ask the obvious question.

“Where’s Kirishima?”

Bakugou grunts, burrowing himself closer. It’s not cold in the room, but his bare skin burns like a furnace, just on the wrong side of comfortable. “Makin’ breakfast.”

Breakfast.

You swallow tightly, but Bakugou isn’t done.

“Scared the shit out of us, fainting like that,” he scoffs. “Should’a fuckin’ known you’d need us to come take care of you.”

His fingers, resting over your stomach, dip lower, sliding roughly beneath the hem of your panties as he grinds his hips along your ass. He’s hard already, you can feel every inch of it, long and thick pressing insistently up against you.

Shame and indignation flare up like a match struck, but before you can even open your mouth to snap a retort, Bakugou yanks his hand out of your underwear to stuff his fingers inside your mouth.

Your first instinct is to bite down, but the blond at your back just growls, “Suck,” and you’re not stupid enough to think that hurting him (or trying to at least) is going to stop what’s about to happen.

Or maybe you’re just scared to test exactly how far you can push them before they really hurt you.

Obediently, your tongue swirls around his thick digits, hollowing out your cheeks and earning a grunt of appreciation from your soulmate.

“Always thought that my soulmate was gonna be someone strong,” he mutters, his hips still rocking up against yours. “Somebody who could keep up with Kiri ‘n me, hold their own in a fight. Never thought you’d be some weak as shit, quirkless little cry-baby.”

It stings more than it has any right to.

Slowly, his fingers slide from your lips, a long, thin glistening strand of saliva connecting the two. It’s hard to fight the whine that escapes you as they return to your pussy, angrily shoving aside your panties before thinking better of it and ripping them off of you completely. The warm puff of breath that ghosts across your skin sends shivers down your spine, and though you can’t see his face when he speaks next you can tell that he’s grinning.

“But fuck, sweetheart, you’re goddamn perfect – everythin’ we didn’t know we needed.”

He kisses you as his index and middle fingers plunge eagerly into your cunt, not the rough, biting kisses he’d gifted you with the night before, no. These are almost tender, sweet – or at least as sweet as a monster like Bakugou is capable of – entirely at odds with way his calloused fingers curl inside of you, fucking you, stretching you out while he cruelly thumbs at your clit.

Katsuki wants you strung out and whining for him. For Kirishima.

He wants you helpless.

“We’re gonna keep you nice ‘n safe, baby. Won’t have to worry about a goddamn fucking thing ‘cept keepin’ your soulmates happy.”

It sounds more like the passing of a sentence than a reassurance, but you can’t tell him that you don’t want this. He knows – he has to by now. He just doesn't care.

You don’t hear it when Kiri comes back, not when Bakugou’s sucking at your neck, your pussy throbbing with need as his fingers drive relentlessly into you, hitting your g-spot with every flick of his wrist.

You might not have noticed the redhead lingering in the doorway, his cock tenting in his pants, eyes dark and glazed over as he watches the show unfolding before him, but Bakugou certainly does.

“Oi, shitty hair. You just gonna stand there and watch or are you actually gonna fucking do something?” His voice is rough and a little breathless, closer to a growl than speech – it makes your gut clench, a shiver run down along your spine.

When your eyes finally do meet Kirishima’s, your heart squeezes, your stomach flipping. Kirishima’s staring at you like a wolf readying itself to pounce, like he wants to devour every inch of you and savour the taste.

He grins widely, pink tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Bakugou’s the one with the bad reputation – as explosive as his quirk, brash at the best of times and overly aggressive even with his friends – you have every reason to be terrified of him, even before he broke into your home to take you.

Kirishima might be kinder, gentler with his touches (at least, he tries to be), but you’re a fool if you think you’re any safer with the redhead.

“Thought you said you were gonna wait,” he says, advancing towards the two of you as he kicks out of his shorts, but the grin on his face doesn’t waver for a second. He’s not nearly as put out as he pretends. “I could hear the pretty little thing moaning all the way in the kitchen.”

Shame would be enough to flood your cheeks with heat, but it’s the sight of Kiri’s cock, flushed an angry red, veiny and thick, hanging heavy between his muscular thighs that does the job. The spit in your mouth dries, your heart thumping unevenly even as pleasure pools in your gut courtesy of Bakugou’s attention. You let out a sharp shriek as he quickens his pace, one hand reaching to grab at his wrist, the other clutching desperately for purchase at the bedsheets, but it’s not enough.

Heat burns at your core, and unwittingly, you find your hips bucking up against him, fervently searching for more.

At your back, the blond chuckles, you feel the deep vibrations echoing through your chest, “Yeah, well you were taking too long.”

There might be more that he says, but at that moment he slides a third finger into your dripping cunt, calloused fingertips slamming against your tight, gummy walls and you’re robbed of the ability to think.

Your first orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, the building pleasure snapping like an elastic band stretched too far. A strangled moan slips out of your lips, and you don’t even notice the teeth sinking into your shoulder, Bakugou once more staking his claim as you cum for him. You quiver and quake in his grip, your cunt tightening around his digits and sucking them in further with a lewd squelching sound that you might be more embarrassed about if you could focus on anything but the pleasurable aftershocks of your peak.

All the while, Kirishima drinks you in, salivating at the sight of your drooling, fucked out expression, the syrupy slick that’s all but dripping out around Bakugou’s thick fingers, still stuffed deep inside of your pussy.

And maybe if he were a better man, he might allow you a moment to breathe and hurtle back down to earth, but patience has never been a virtue of his. He lunges forward faster than a man of his size has any right to, jumping onto the bed and all but tearing you out of Bakugou’s hold. You’re still reeling, panting and sore and dizzy with pleasure as Kirishima’s lips crash against yours, stealing what little breath you have left in a burning kiss.

Your attention’s caught on the way his tongue’s sliding against yours, trying to coax you into kissing back, the sharp, minty taste of him – you miss the way he grasps at his flushed, leaking cock, dragging it along your puffy slit. You miss the sound of Bakugou shedding his own pants.

You’re still weakly trying to push at his chest when Kiri slides his cock into your warm, welcoming cunt, his low, guttural moan lost to your lips. And despite Bakugou’s attempts at preparing you, it still burns, the sheer girth of his fat cock filling you up and stretching you uncomfortably. Tears sting at your eyes, a whimper catching in your throat as he hums in pleasure, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, impaling you further onto his length.

Yet you’re not given a moment to accommodate the massive cock inside of you – not as you feel another blunt, flushed cockhead pressing up against your already stuffed pussy. Realisation hits a moment too late, your face blanching, your heart skipping a beat as panic – sheer panic – chokes at you.

You try to push back from Kiri’s embrace, only to feel Bakugou once again pressing up against your back, trapping you between them. You squirm in vain, trying to kick and push, fighting even as the blond’s cock, not as girthy as Kirishima’s but still far too big for you to take with Kiri still inside of you, starts to force its way into your plush, velvety walls.

“F-fuck, she’s tight,” he grunts as you arch up against Kiri, your tits, still covered by your thin, cotton tee, squishing up against his bare chest in an attempt to writhe away from the overwhelming feeling of fullness, the burning, stinging, throbbing pain between your legs.

But your soulmates are far from considerate, not even as you start to wail, your nails raking down the redhead’s broad shoulders.

“Your pussy’s a fuckin’ dream,” he continues, swearing with a hiss as he finally bottoms out.

It’s too much, you feel like you’re being split in two. Every twitch and throb of their dicks, every vein, every inch of them is pressed too tightly against you, your walls struggling to take them both. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, oh god it hurts so fucking bad, but neither one of them care as you start to sob–

No, Kiri just kisses away your tears, taking your face in his large hands and cooing sweetly when you beg them through gasping, heaving sobs to stop.

“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Look how well you’re taking our cocks – it’s like you were made for us,” he laughs at his own stupid joke, and all you can focus on is the pain as he starts to draw his hips back, your oversensitive walls screaming in protest. “We’re gonna make you feel so fucking amazing, just wait.”

And it’s not his wide, beaming grin that shatters you, or even the hunger blazing in those crimson depths. It’s not Bakugou panting at your back, his hands coming up to shove your top up so he can palm greedily at your tits, or even the lewd almost feral sounds the explosion Hero’s making as he and Kirishima settle into a maddening rhythm, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath and steady yourself as they fuck you.

No, it’s the sheer, feverish love you can see written across his face clear as day, the softness with which he holds you, even as he chases his own pleasure.

This is their version of love, and you – quirkless, weak as shit and entirely at their mercy – have no hope in hell of escaping it.

#yandere bnha #yandere bakugo katsuki #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere bakugou katuski x reader #yandere kirishima eijiro x reader #yandere bakugou x reader #yandere kirishima x reader #tw non con #tw kidnapping #tw blood #it's like one mention but still #me posting this when my dash is dead instead of at 2am #more likely than you think

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mittensmorgul · 3 years

Text

For anyone interested in long-term residence in the supernatural fandom, please have some observations I’ve made over the decade I’ve been here. Take it or leave it as you will, but I’ve found all of this info useful over the years I’ve been here.

I wrote this yesterday, and it achieved its mission of identifying the sort of folks who would react negatively to it (i.e. a lot of block lists have been updated), so now that it’s been edited for content, it’s going under a cut (because that is how we do things on tumblr in general, unless we have a deliberate purpose for annoying readers with excessively long text posts) for the sake of people who actually do care about the fandom and its history. If that’s not you or your reason for being here, then keep on keeping on with your own thing, I guess. For those who are interested, there’s a lot of fandom resources some of us have been building for years that you might enjoy knowing about.

First off, I’ve been informed by a few friends who’ve read through this for coherency’s sake that it sort of reads like a *shakes cane from porch* fandom grandma complaint, but honestly... I earned this rocking chair and goshdangit imma rock now. So apologies for any “back in my day” vibes or faint aroma of tiger balm this post might give off. Then again, it’s loosely based on a similar post from 2012 so like... time is a flat circle anyway I guess.

1. There is no such thing as “tumblr famous,” unless you’re referring to the hilarious and delightful fic of the same name (please go read it, you will cackle). Posting Hot Takes for imaginary Clout™ on this site is kind of pointless in the long run. Sure you can post solely for the sake of stirring shit and getting notes, but the majority of the folks who do aren’t long term residents of the fandom. They’re just tourists moving through our little beach town for spring break. If you’re actually intent on moving to this corner of the fandom for an extended stay, please bother to really feel out the permanent residents and understand the culture and general mood of the neighborhood. It bears no resemblance to whatever’s going on across town where all the bars and beach parities are happening, and those loud, drunken revelers are, again, gonna disappear back to their regular lives or on to the next party eventually. That doesn’t mean the fandom is dying, it’s just evolving.

(funny how I had several comments implying that I’m just trying to keep the fandom from evolving with this post, because I sincerely do want the fandom to continue on for years to come, and that is impossible without evolution. We can evolve without self-immolating, though. mostly i included point 1 for an excuse to push ancient but hilarious fanfic on you.)

2. Once you post something here, it’s been unleashed to the fandom winds. You never know where it will end up, or who will comment on it or add to it. Remember that time Misha tweeted the link to the Epic Cockles Love Story post? No? It was wild. That was 2012. They all know we’re here, and how to find us if they want to. Please don’t take it to their doorsteps.

Obviously if someone is being a dick on your posts, please feel free to block them, but the whole entire point of this site is to engage people with your posts. Being big mad that someone reblogged your post with comments or supporting evidence, or happy headcanons or “HECK THIS IS GREAT BECAUSE (insert personal story about their experience or whatever else made them Feel Things about your post)” is frankly ridiculous. If your goal is to avoid any sort of engagement with your posts, then maybe try instagram instead. From what I understand, there is a SPN fandom presence there, and nobody can tarnish your original posts with unwanted commentary. But the ability to reblog with additional commentary is a FEATURE of tumblr that builds community through conversation. Otherwise we’re all just talking to ourselves in a vacuum, and that’s what actually kills fandoms.

(and for the folks who just want to blog how they want to blog and don’t want people to engage on their posts at all, please feel free to block anyone you want, as well... nobody wants to step on your toes, but most of us also don’t want to walk on eggshells wondering if this post is one of the “do not add comments for any reason” sorts of posts, either. This is a huge fandom and most people can’t even begin to keep track of every creator and their url du jour, and what their personal rules might be regarding interaction with their content. Including a “please don’t add comments” note at the bottom of your posts-- and not in your tags that won’t even show up on reblogs, but in the actual body of the post-- would sincerely help avoid any awkward or unwanted interactions, too. At the end of the day, you are in control of your own fandom experience and the block button exists.

For the record, I block zero fandom blogs (which is why I posted this, I wanted it to reach a wide scope... refer to the opening paragraphs as to why).

3. Since this post was partly inspired by a tag I left on that post going around about how “previous tags” mean fuckall on this site (which you can read here), just a reminder that if you like someone’s tags or feel they add value to the post, part of the Peer Review structure of tumblr encourages you to PASTE THEM INTO A REBLOG. If you do this, then at least credit the person who actually wrote the tags! Don’t just copy someone else’s tags into your tags on your reblog of the post without credit either. They were not YOUR tags. (I have had this happen to tag rambles I wrote and someone else got credited with them on a subsequent reblog and it is FRUSTRATING). Just... don’t even bother to write “previous tags” because WHAT PREVIOUS TAGS?! Nobody is gonna bother to chase back the chain of reblogs trying to find where the mystery tags came from, friendos. That way lies madness.

(for the record, since some folks seemed to focus on this point solely, writing “previous tags” on a post isn’t inherently a BAD thing, but for anyone who actually is here for more than one-off shitposting, then it’s sort of a pointless thing in the long run. This wasn’t intended to suggest people who ARE here for one-off shitposting are bad or “doing it wrong,” but for people who might actually want to preserve that hilarious joke or insightful comment. People delete posts and entire blogs all the time around here. Links break. I get that the upcoming generation just shrugs at that and moves on with their lives, but heck... you don’t have to accept that all entertainment is disposable if you don’t want to. There’s a bizarre sort of nihilism plaguing us all about the impermanence of pretty much everything that feels like something we should be fighting against rather than buying into wholesale, even in our escapist entertainment. I’m just exhausted by the complete loss of joy in community.

*shouts from the peanut gallery* IT AIN’T THAT DEEP, JUST GET SOME FRESH AIR AND LOOK AT A PUPPY OR SOMETHING

Yes... yes it isn’t really that deep, but bigger picture in the state of reality we’re all entirely disillusioned with, are we supposed to just give up on everything, including the things we cling to because they bring us a tiny spark of hope that we’re not all just trapped in this dystopian nightmare and things might actually be worth living for?

*peanut gallery clinging to burnt husks of peanuts in a barren peanut field* but this is how we have chosen to cope

Okay... you do you... I feel bad for you but if that’s the case then this post is NOT FOR YOU. AND THAT’S FINE. I honestly do not care if you don’t care! I mean, I’m sorry anyone has to live in a world that drives them to that mindset, but I understand. This post is for anyone who might look at their lives and their choices and think “no wait, I unironically enjoy this and want more from the experience of that enjoyment than I’m currently feeling.” Everyone else can continue with their lives as usual.)

4. CONTENT THEFT IS NEVER OKAY. PERIOD. Things like “credit to the artist” or tagging gifs or images you found on pinterest as “not mine” isn’t actually credit. If you can’t source an image or gif set, DO NOT POST IT! We don’t REPOST (i.e. save an image and then create a new post with it as if it was our own creation). We REBLOG (click the little square arrows and reblog from the actual creator). That goes for gif sets, fanvids, screencaps, meta, fic... everything.

(hopefully everyone here already understands this one, but I felt compelled to include some “these are stupidly obvious” reminders anyway, since this is ostensibly some sort of advice column. This is the equivalent of the warning label on your toaster reminding you not to use it in the bath. Like... duh...)

5. Close kin of item 4 is SOURCE YOUR SHIT.

(for 100% disclosure purposes, I specifically discussed this one in this specific way because of an influx of anon ask messages I received in the wake of the finale. Literally the inciting incident for creating this entire post was what I can only assume was a joking ask about a comment Misha made at a con years ago. Someone actually bothered to take the time to type out those sentences to me. I have no idea what they were expecting in reply, or what could possibly motivate them to send this comment about something so entirely random from, again, several years ago. Just a joke? No idea, but whatever... it got me thinking that there might actually be people who are new to the fandom who MIGHT actually care about the fandom history, and maybe they just don’t know where to go for that info, or how to even begin searching through 16 years of history for things they might actually find enjoyment in, rather than just hauling random out of context garbage out on main and pointing and laughing about it now. People are actually allowed to care about things. It’s not cringeworthy to actually care about things, and you are not alone in actually caring, and there’s this whole big room over here full of people who are thrilled to share in that with you. This post is intended FOR THOSE PEOPLE SPECIFICALLY, so if that is not you, please just continue walking by.)

Yes, I know lots of y’all are new around here right now, but dredging up stuff from years ago that fandom has completely debunked and presenting it as TRU FAX again is just exhausting. We’re not trying to be party poopers, but seriously, we have seen it all and are mostly done with extinguishing bags of flaming dog poop on our front porches for the umpteenth year in a row. I’ve seen a lot of posts that have the same tone as “I saw Goody Proctor dancing with the devil” or “I heard kylo ren has an eight pack” and just... the information is there for anyone who cares enough to find it.

This goes double for “why is nobody talking about this thing I just discovered while watching the show for the first time?!” And, oh hon, we have talked it all into the ground over the last fifteen years. We’re happy you’re discovering it again, but I promise we talked about it plenty when the episodes originally aired. We have such a rich meta history that lots of us have worked really hard to preserve. I encourage you to seek it out, if nothing else than as historical artifacts. The way we have discussed the show has been a 16-year evolution. People have written literal doctoral dissertations on this show. Your shitposts are fun! We love reliving our own experience through fresh eyes, and seeing your wonder at experiencing it all again for the first time! But y’all didn’t invent this fandom in the last six months, either.

Meta Sources and Minerals provided by our friendly neighborhood fandom archivist, @lets-steal-an-archive

Academic books and articles about SPN

A collection of Meta Essays going back to s1 and organized by topic (all of this has happened before, all of it will happen again)

SPN Heavy Meta Archive (s1-3)

Mel’s Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-12)

Oranges8hands Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-15, with many similar entries to Mel’s... though ymmv on viewpoint in a lot of these too)

Anyone remember Fandom Wank? Not the concept but the actual LJ... No? Okay have a link to SPN topics that ended up there. Through 2013. We have seen so much... including several fandom containment breaches.

for all your art sourcing needs, please see @theroadsofararchive, the repository for so much fandom art.

need to find a gif of something? canonspngifs is a vast repository of gifsets of the entire series. If the gif you want to use in your post happens to be the first gif in the gifset, in the tumblr gif finder thingy just paste the permalink to that post from canonspngifs (which is easily searchable by episode, character, location, situation, quotes, and sometimes even color and clothing items the actors are wearing... it’s really well organized, especially for tumblr >.>) and the first gif will be automatically linked with credit to the gif creator attached. It makes life easy that way. It’s also convenient when trying to remember something specific but can’t remember what episode it’s from. I’ve used the site to jog my memory before going to the superwiki armed with more specific search results to find episode quotes and references. Or sometimes I just scroll through all the nice gifs for fun, too.

Need a screencap of something and know exactly which episode it’s from? Try Home of the Nutty. You might not find the exact screencap you’re looking for, but they have a complete set of caps of every episode, and it’s an incredibly useful resource for quick reference checks and the like. Just give pages a chance to fully load before clicking on the next one. The site is easily overloaded, but it’s still free to use (and again, with credit... Pretty much every screencap on my entire blog is from HotN unless otherwise credited).

As you can see, this is a fandom built on preserving our history. You absolutely are not required to engage with any of this if that’s not of interest to you, but I can only assume that there are people who would be interested in it if only they knew it existed and how to find it. Well, now they do.

6. A few more notes on tags, and how they work on tumblr. The first 20 tags on your ORIGINAL posts are searchable sitewide, so if you want to be able to find something again, tag that thing first before going on general tag rambles. The only place tags on reblogs are searchable is on your own blog. So you don’t have to put 50 tags trying to get a post seen if it’s a reblog. You’re just spitting into the wind at that point. If you have a filing system for finding things again, then by all means add those tags (again, in the first 20, so they’re searchable), but you don’t need to tag a reblog “destiel” and “deancas” and “dean” and “cas” and “dean x cas” or whatever. Pick one for your personal blog’s filing system, that’s all you need.

(this was only added because tagging and searching on this site is so very broken... I get that a lot of folks don’t care about ever searching their own blogs again for anything, so this one only really applies if you do often find yourself trying to find old posts. If not, then it’s not really relevant. It took me years to work out a decent tagging system, and at the beginning of my time here I never thought I’d end up camping out here for a decade and falling this deep into the fandom, and I regretted my lack of consistent tags only years later when I realized I actually wanted to be able to go back and find specific old posts again. So... for anyone who wants to err on the side of caution, working out a sensible tagging system really helps if you’re here for the long term. I personally tag content by episode, because some of my other general tags are so large as to be practically useless as a search term. But whatever system you choose to file stuff on your own blog, it really only has to make sense to you. And again, if this is pointless advice for someone who has no intention of settling here for the long term. Please feel free to ignore it. I just wish someone had explained it this way to me ten years ago and saved me the hassle of retroactively tagging something like 30k posts... especially now that using the mass tag replacer is the fastest way to get your entire blog deleted... oops? so yeah, don’t use the mass tag replacer either >.>)

7. Tags on Tumblr DO NOT WORK LIKE TAGS ON TWITTER. If you @ someone in the body of the post, it will show up in their notifications (if they’re the sort of person who even checks their notifications... not all of us do. For the record, I generally don’t...), but putting actor or ship names in the tags on a tumblr post does absolutely nothing. It’s not the same as tagging the actor’s twitter account in a tweet. Nobody’s getting notifications about you tagging a post about Jensen here as “Jensen Ackles.” There is a difference. Please learn it. (and don’t take headcanons and ESPECIALLY RPF or otherwise explicit art or fic from tumblr to twitter and tag the actors in it. That’s just... not okay.)

(I have seen the pearl clutchers getting all in a huff about the mere existence of RPF or even explicit content of fictional characters if it doesn’t meet their purity standards, but tagging those things allows people who don’t want to see it to actively avoid that content here. Nobody has a right to tell people their fictional content shouldn’t exist at all, or that creators of that fictional content somehow deserve harassment or threats for having dared to create such “immoral” content, won’t somebody PLEASE think of the children... and no... you do not do that here. Don’t be the problematic behavior you wish to ban from the world. Learn to use tags to protect yourself from, as i have attempted to emphasize here, fictional content you are personally upset by. That’s a you problem, not a problem for the creators of potentially upsetting content that they tag appropriately for.)

8. General formatting stuff: If you’re writing long text posts, visually break them up so people aren’t faced with one long wall of text. The enter key is your friend. Also, if you put long text posts under a Read More break and send people to your blog to finish reading, please ensure that your blog is actually visually accessible (tiny text, or light grey text on a dark grey background, or a visually busy background might be aesthetically pleasing to you but nobody can actually read it. Loads of folks won’t even try. Which is great if you don’t actually care whether people are able to appreciate your content or not, but something to at least consider if you *do* actively want to encourage engagement with your work. Confirm how your blog looks on both mobile and desktop and make sure it’s actually functional in both, too).

And since I mentioned that most of my experience on fandom tumblr has been in the SPN fandom, here’s a bit of a reminder for folks who are new around here. With the reminder that I have been here more than a decade and still feel like a newbie myself sometimes...

This is an OLD FANDOM. There are many, many people who have been at this longer than some of you have been alive. The average age for creators in this fandom is older than you think (I think of my friends in their 30′s as young’ins okay? okay). With that understood, you are responsible for the content you consume and are exposed to. Curate your experience. Ship and let ship. YKINMKATOK. Don’t deliberately expose yourself to content you find upsetting for whatever reason. Tags and warnings are your friends, not targets for you to attack in some sort of purity war. People will ship things you do not like (or in specific ways you do not like), will say things you do not agree with, and will find their happiness in things you abhor. That is not your concern. Find what you do like, and support and engage with it, and ignore (or block, or unfollow) the rest. Tumblr has a feature that lets you blacklist tags so the content you’re trying to avoid won’t appear on your dash.

Remember the paradox of tolerance.

It is not your job in fandom to police how other people enjoy the fandom. It’s not *my* job to police how *you* enjoy the fandom, UNLESS your enjoyment is in actively harming other real human beings in the fandom. If you don’t like their take on the character or the show or the plotlines or their ships or anything else, you don’t need to engage with their posts at all! The necessary corollary to this is that clarifying misunderstandings or correcting factual misinformation is not “policing.”

(this is where the peanut gallery reminds me it ain’t that deep, and I plead with them to put down the social media and find just one (1) thing to actually believe in in this godforsaken life, find something other than disdain and cynicism and spite to live for. If those things motivate you to find a larger cause for yourself, then great, use them to your advantage, but use them to find something that makes you a better person or brings you a modicum of joy and connection to your fellow human beings despite living in a dystopian hellscape of a world)

I have seen a lot of posts lately that are founded on the sort of authority that comes with ��I watched through tumblr for a few months and then watched the last three episodes of the series” and as such are just... missing the larger context of the entire show, and are unfounded entirely in canon. I 100% appreciate the new enthusiasm for the fandom that we’ve been living in here for years, and it’s wonderful to see new people enjoying the thing we love. Your headcanons are valid, you are valid, but recognize that your headcanons aren’t canon. All of us finale denialists have accepted this in some measure, so we feel you. We truly, truly feel you. But regarding actual canon, we have a resource for that: the Superwiki. Learn it, live it, love it, as Metatron would say.

(which you could discover he said in 10.17 Inside Man, thanks to the superwiki! accept no substitutes!)

(and again, there have been people who have been involved in fandom for years who haven’t engaged with canon in years, either! You can play in this universe however you choose, BUT FOR PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT CANON AT ALL, WHICH I AM AGAIN POINTEDLY SAYING MIGHT NOT BE YOU, READER, AND I’M NOT SUGGESTING YOU ARE WRONG FOR NOT WANTING TO ACTUALLY ENGAGE WITH CANON, but if you DO want to engage with canon, please have some useful resources. Why do people feel personally attacked by being presented a list of helpful resources? Absolutely baffling.)

(also: words have definitions. “Canon” is a specific thing, meaning in this case “the finished media product that aired on television.” Anything beyond those limits is secondary canon (think: john’s journal, which is not canon but canon adjacent at best...), word of god (i.e stuff said by the writers and showrunners), or headcanon (which includes actor commentary-- they may have helped create the show with their acting choices and whatever, but they are not in control of the story overall). If there’s something you dislike about actual canon, you can reject it and supplement it with your own theories or preferred outcomes-- that’s basically what fanfic is-- but that doesn’t make your theories canon (much to all our dismay, that’s just not how any of this works. This is not to invalidate how anyone engages with the show or the fandom, just trying to clarify what seems to have been a source of unintentional misunderstandings. Your theories do not have to be “canon” to be legitimate interpretations.)

***I am setting this section apart, and did make a separate post of just this following information, because this is where we go from being relatively chill about different parts of fandom choosing to interact in different ways and you do you and blog however you want, to “hey can everybody please understand that the way you are interacting with this specific material might be harmful for specific legal reasons, and stating that you do not care about the consequences of your actions does actively make you the asshole here...” Okay, now that we have that understood:

The spnscripthunt collective has been steadily acquiring new scripts (which are posted in full on the superwiki for everyone to enjoy, for free). The language around how some folks are talking about these scripts is... concerning. For very real legal reasons, actually, and not because we’re feeling precious about the collection and don’t wike it when meanies use them in shitposts.

-First off, these scripts are not “leaks.” They are all verified and legally purchased (or gifted, in some cases, but still acquired entirely above board. we didn’t whack anyone over the head in a back alley for these scripts, or swipe them out of someone’s trailer on set).

(in case anyone was unaware, these scripts are the copywritten protected property of Warner Brothers. So yes, how we use them and share them with the fandom could have legal repercussions. We present them as a collected resource of fandom history which SHOULD fall under Fair Use doctrine, but this is untested legal water. Insinuating that the scripts are somehow not entirely legally obtained, or that posting them for public access involved less than 100% transparent and entirely legal transactions is incredibly concerning.

Once again for the peanut gallery, if you don’t care about any of that and are just having a good time with it, at least be mindful of the work and expense a large group of people have gone through to acquire and present the content you’re all too eager to exploit for cheap thrills. Some of us do actually care and are not exactly comfortable with the fact that others don’t seem to care about burning it all to the ground. We can’t force you to listen or behave as we’d hope you might, but at least be aware of the potential consequences of your actions. All we’re asking is for you to not be the douchebag who sets the whole neighborhood on fire with your illegal fireworks display. Is that too much to ask for? more on that in a second, first... a psa)

-If you see a script for sale and are unsure if it’s legit (or believe it might already be freely available in our collection), please feel free to ask us for advice. Our goal is to make as much of our fandom history available to the entire fandom, and we absolutely do not want anyone shelling out money for stuff you can already find for free.

(seriously, we’ve seen a bunch of resellers cropping up selling printed versions of the scripts we bought and uploaded for everyone to enjoy free of charge, or scripts that are otherwise of dubious origin. We’ve been at this for years now and know what’s actually out there. We don’t want anyone to fall for a scam if we can help it)

-Also, the usual reminder that the scripts we acquire ARE NOT NECESSARILY THE FINAL SHOOTING DRAFTS. In fact, the majority of scripts in our collection are NOT. Changes are made daily to scripts, even during filming. Comparing a Production Draft (white pages, effectively the first “final draft” of what usually becomes a series of drafts before filming wraps) to a much later revision (say... green or goldenrod revisions, several of which we DO have in our collection for comparison) and how those earlier drafts often differ wildly from the aired version versus how similar a much later green draft is to the aired version, for example, can teach you a lot about the television writing process. The link above to the superwiki scripts page has a nice little explainer about how this process works.

Differences between our posted scripts (many of which are white drafts, aka FIRST complete drafts, which will likely go through multiple rounds of revisions before filming even begins) and the aired version of the show are not all “acting choices” or a director or editor just cutting whole scenes on a whim. It’s insulting to everyone involved in production to suggest that’s the case.

(and yeah, fine... whatever, make any sort of posts you like regarding how those changes came about, but at the very least understand that it’s not actually the truth about how any of this works. Don’t care that that’s not the truth and want to make the posts anyway because shitposting is fun and that’s the extent of your sense of humor? FINE! You’re entitled to do that! But at least you DO know the truth now, and hopefully so do the people who engage with your posts. Deliberate ignorance isn’t cute, smooth lions notwithstanding)

There’s probably a whole other post to be made on fandom tagging etiquette, but again I don’t really use the tags enough to know what’s going on with that whole situation. I’ve also probably left a lot of stuff out, so please feel free to add things I’ve overlooked.

Thanks also to @trisscar368 and @thayerkerbasy for help compiling this, too. They were kind enough to escort me through the park to feed these pigeons. Now I need to take them out for ice cream. :’D

So I guess welcome to the neighborhood. Make yourself at home, but like... try not to trash the place while you’re here. Some of us live here by choice, lol.

#this blue hellsite (affectionate)#fandom problems #kinda wish i'd made this post six months ago but here we are i guess lol #long post #now edited for the people who are actually personally invested in the fandom #thanks for participating in this little experiment and I hope this version is actually informative to those who are interested #meaning there's a lot more links to stuff and explainers and whatnot...#and one last reminder that for folks just swinging through for laughs absolutely none of this applies to you #if you are legit interested in fandom history and preservation as we move to the post-canon world then hopefully this is useful to you

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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 4 years

Text

For the First Time (What’s Past Is Past)

Pairing: Neighbor!Hoseok x f!reader

Summary: After your eight years relationship comes to a brutal end, you don’t really see yourself getting back into dating — ever, probably. And then, your new neighbor who has the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen needs to borrow a corkscrew, and you don’t realize it just yet, but your resolve doesn’t stand a chance.

Also available on Ao3.

Word count: 15.7k

Genre: Fluff, (light) angst, eventual smut

Warnings: heavily discussed/referenced cheating, cursing, soft and gentle smut, penetrative sex, some pining, alcohol consumption, reader is not great with feelings, hoseok is good with feelings, the boys make cameos

A/N: Woohoo, first work in this fandom! This is actually the longest one-shot I’ve ever written (by my standards it’s LONG). Enjoy!

He doesn’t beg you to stay. He doesn’t tell you that “it’s not what you think”, doesn’t tell you that “it didn’t mean anything”, doesn’t ask for your forgiveness, doesn’t tell you that the two of you can work it out, that you can get through this together.

Instead, he tells you that he loves her, and when your entire world shatters in front of you, there is nothing you can do. You are completely and utterly alone.

When you first meet Jung Hoseok, he’s coming out of his apartment right as you’re getting into yours. He looks a little startled at first, but then he smiles at you, and you just stare.

You’ve never been good at interacting with people, especially strangers, especially when you’re not expecting it. You have to prepare yourself for those things, and right now, you’re very much not.

“Oh,” you say, looking at him.

The thing is, you recognize him — sort of. You’ve seen him around the building, and you immediately noticed him. You think it would have been impossible not to, frankly. You have ever seen someone who shines as bright as he does.

There is no other word for it. Hoseok shines.

It’s everything about him, and nothing at the same time. It’s his bright smile, first and foremost, and the way his brown eyes sparkle. It doesn’t hurt that he looks the way he does, all tall and thin and muscular, carrying himself like a dancer, but it’s his smile that you can’t get out of your mind. You’ve barely seen it, he gave you a quick, polite one when you passed him by in the parking lot, and yet you’ve thought about it more than you should have.

You’re surprised to see him here, though. You’ve been here for a month now, and you had never met the person who lived right next to you. You certainly never even considered that it could be the man with the bright smile and kind eyes you saw around, though the laugh you got used to hearing through the walls certainly completes that picture beautifully.

His smile widens a little, and he has a silent chuckle at your reaction.

“Hi,” he says.

You nod. You forget to reply, or to smile back, and you only realize that after you’ve closed your door behind you and Hoseok is already in the elevator.

You decide, firmly, to push that encounter out of your mind and to forget it ever happened.

(You can’t.)

There’s a gentle knock on your door, and you go to open it, surprised and a little confused. Your friends don’t live in the area and aren’t the type to drop by unannounced, and you don’t know anyone in your building. You wish you could add ‘yet’ to that sentence, but you are quite terribly antisocial, so you doubt you’ll ever get there, unless someone actually wants to get to know you. Which is not going to happen.

Hoseok’s smile greets you, and you blink. You note that his cheeks are slightly flushed, that he’s wearing a nice shirt, and that his hair is a little ruffled. He looks good — very good.

“Hi!” he says, when you forget, once more, what your lines are supposed to be in such a situation.

“Hi,” you remember to reply, but you’re late and offbeat, so you actually interrupt what he’s trying to say next, and you know you would be furious at yourself if you cared.

It’s been a long time since you’ve last found the energy to do that though.

“Sorry,” he smiles again, “I— I was wondering if you had a corkscrew I could borrow?”

You look back at your kitchen, mentally making an inventory of what you own. You know for sure you’ve never bought a corkscrew, you wouldn’t have the use for it, but there is a distant memory of—

“Just a second,” you say, walking to your kitchen.

You rummage through your cupboard for a few moments, before emerging victorious, holding a corkscrew you’re pretty sure Hyejin bought you when you first moved after The Break-Up, telling you that you would need it. You hadn’t, but you didn’t like throwing things away, so you had kept it, even after you had changed apartments a second time.

“Ah, you’re a life savior!” Hoseok rejoices when you hand it to him. “I’ll give it back to you as soon as possible, okay?”

You want to say that he doesn’t have to. You don’t.

“Sure,” you say, lifting a corner of your lips in a poor attempt at a smile. “Enjoy yourself.”

He seems a bit taken aback by the comment, but then he nods, and something strange twists in your stomach because of how he looks at you. Fondly.

God. You must be terribly deprived of affection if that is all it takes.

“Thank you, I will! Have a nice evening!”

The “Thank you” you reply with sounds awkward to your ears, and you grimace as you close the door. You’re pretty sure you’ve handled that interaction terribly, and you half regret not telling him to put the corkscrew back into your mailbox when he returns it, to save you the embarrassment of going through something similar again.

But you also don’t regret it that much, and that’s something.

Hoseok catches you again a few days later. This time, he pokes his head out of his apartment as you’re turning the key into your lock. You’re not that surprised. If he can hear you half as well as you can hear him, it’s no wonder he hears you coming in.

“I have your corkscrew!”

The weirdness of that sentence, out of context, amuses you. You wait for him to reappear, and when he does, he gives you the corkscrew back with a strange reverence, like you did him a huge favor.

“Thanks,” you say. “Did it, uh, did it help? Was the— was what you drank good? Was it wine?”

That’s too many questions.

“Yeah— Yeah, it was good!” Hoseok lightens up, like he hasn’t even noticed that you can’t, for the life of you, have a normal conversation with someone. “We had some wine. I don’t have wine often, but I thought it was good. Not that I know much about it, though,” he laughs, and the sound is extremely nice. “You drink wine?”

You shake you head.

“No, the— the corkscrew’s a gift from a friend. I barely use it. You can keep it, actually.”

His eyes widen.

“You’re sure?”

You nod.

“I probably— I shouldn’t accept that. It’s yours. And it’s a gift.”

He looks genuinely worried, and you find it extremely endearing. He seems so worried about whatever rules are to be followed when it comes to accepting gifts from a neighbor you’ve met twice and— You think it’s sweet, is all.

“It’s fine, I don’t really drink. And when I do, it’s usually beer.”

And mojitos. You’re a big mojito fan. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“Well, if you’re sure…”

The corkscrew changes hands. Again.

“I’m Hoseok, by the way,” he says.

You don’t tell him that you know that. You do, because you’ve looked at the mailbox to see what your neighbor’s name was — when you moved in, mind you, not after finding out what he looked like — but you think that maybe that’s not the type of things people normally do.

Instead, you tell him your name, and Hoseok’s eyes seem to twinkle when he smiles at you.

You part awkwardly, the awkwardness mostly coming from you, as usual, and you think that’s the last you’ll see of your neighbor, outside of the occasional run-ins that you should be able to escape without having to talk to him. So that’s a relief.

(But it’s also just a tiny bit disappointing.)

You don’t drink, but Hyejin does. Especially wine, especially after a break-up, which you guess explains the corkscrew gift. When she arrives at your apartment, you’re first worried that she’s going to get offended you don’t have it anymore, but it quickly becomes clear that she doesn’t remember giving it to you. That doesn’t stop her from sending you out to get one from one of your neighbors. Usually she’d do it, because she knows how much you hate asking strangers for things, but she’s not herself tonight. The relationship was nearing the six months mark, something she had been really excited about, so you want to do what you can to help

That leaves you in an uncomfortable situation, though. You could ask another neighbor, but there’s the risk that they wouldn’t have a corkscrew — you’ve thought of that word way too much recently and it’s starting to lose its meaning in your mind — or that they wouldn’t want to give it to you, or that they’d slam the door in your face, or—

That’s irrational. You know that’s irrational and unlikely to happen. Still, knocking on Hoseok’s door is going to be awkward, but at least you’re pretty sure that he will be nice about it. So you do.

“Yeah— Oh, hey, (Y/N), what can I do for you?”

He does have a truly beautiful smile.

“Well, I have a friend over, and she actually drinks wine, and—”

Hoseok lets out a loud laugh that has you freezing like a deer in headlights first, then brings a careful smile to your lips.

“I’ll give it back,” you mumble sheepishly.

“It’s fine, it’s yours,” he chuckles, stepping back in his apartment, but leaving the door open behind him. You wonder if you should follow, then decide against it. Instead, you stand in the hallway, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. About as uncomfortable as can be.

You do take a peek inside, though. The rooms seem to be laid out pretty much the same as in your own apartment, with the kitchen on the left when you walk in, and you guess the bedroom door is the one you can see facing you, after the lounge. The interior design is simple, but stylish, and you notice movie posters on the walls. It’s nice and, though you barely know him, you can’t help but thinking that it’s a distinctively Hoseok place.

You haven’t really done anything to decorate, apart from bringing in your plants. It’s not your thing. At all. Maybe Hyejin will do something about it tonight. Wouldn’t be the first time she decorates your place while drunk. Last time, she’d ordered wallpaper. You’d forced her to come to help you put it on, and she had found it hilarious.

That was probably why she’d told you you were ‘better than therapy’.

“A-ha!” Hoseok exclaims before quickly returning to you. “There you go,” he says. “Is the wine your friend brought any good?”

You honestly have no idea. You don’t know the first thing about wine. Hyejin does, but you doubt that is something she feels very concerned with tonight.

Right as you’re thinking that, she opens your apartment door, calling out your name, way too loud, and seems satisfied when she sees you so close.

“Got one,” you tell her, waving the corkscrew. “Thanks, Hoseok, I’ll—”

“You look like you need a drink too,” Hyejin says bluntly, eyes set on him. “Wanna join?”

You look at him, surprised. You didn’t notice anything. You thought he looked fine. A little tired, maybe, and not quite as nicely dressed as he was that first night he had knocked on your door, but not any different from when you’d see him around. Hyejin is good with those things, though, so you suppose she’s probably right, but you don’t want Hoseok to feel pressured.

“You don’t have to—”

“You know what? I think I’ll take that invitation,” he says, and Hyejin nods in approval. “If it’s fine with the hostess,” he adds politely, giving you a wink.

As if. You already can’t deny Hyejin anything, so there’s no way you can deny him, especially when that wink has you weak in the knees.

“Sure,” you smile. “Let’s get you guys drunk.”

“That’s the spirit!” Hyejin shouts, raising a hand for high-five, which Hoseok gives her enthusiastically, a light-hearted laugh leaving his lips.

You shake your head, but you’re grinning.

As you expected, Hyejin passes out on your couch, drunk and sad and tired. Her and Hoseok had an amazing time, talking about their love life, while you sat on a stool by your kitchen island, sipping the same glass of wine for the entire evening. You don’t drink, you don’t even like alcohol that much, but you want to be supportive, and you’ve noticed it makes people feel better when you at least have a glass in your hands.

You listen to them, though. They have the same type of chaotic energy, and they get along immediately, in a way you could never dream of getting along with a stranger. Hyejin talks about her break up, and she’s as devastated as she always is. Hoseok nods along with just the right amount of intensity, at just the right times, and punctuates her talking with gasps. When it’s his turn to share, he talks about ‘people who don’t know what they want’, and his bitter tone worries you a little. You guess things didn’t go that well with whoever he was sharing that bottle of wine with. It comes as a surprise, because you certainly heard that it was going fine, that night.

After Hyejin falls asleep, Hoseok looks around your room, and, as soon as his eyes lock with yours, he walks over to you. He’s a little tipsy, and there’s a red tint to his cheeks. He sits across from you, then leans on the island and rest his chin on his hands.

“So, what about you? Any terrible break-up you want to talk about?”

The question almost makes you jump, but you manage to keep your composure. Still, you can feel a cold hand wrapping around your heart and squeezing it. You hate that you’re still so affected by any mention of it. You should be over it by now. You certainly don’t have any feelings left for Minsu, so you don’t understand why this is still so hard.

At the same time, it feels kind of refreshing to hear him asking that without sugar-coating it. You friends have been walking on eggshells around you ever since The Break-Up, and none of them know exactly what happened. They just know that Minsu has a new girlfriend now.

“It’s been almost a year,” you tell him, keeping your voice light. “I’m okay. You two look like you need to talk a lot more than I do.”

“That depends,” he says, frowning, though you’re not sure if it’s because of what you said or because he has a hard time focusing with all the alcohol running in his blood. “I wasn’t serious. Were you serious?”

Ah.

“Yeah.” You shrug. “I was.”

You don’t date someone for eight years unless it’s serious. Sure, it started when the two of you were in high school, and a lot of people probably didn’t think you would make it that far, but you felt— you felt comfortable with Minsu. You felt good around him. You liked talking about your work with him, liked hearing him rant about video games, liked how you goofed around when you did the dishes. You hadn’t seen anything coming.

A third of your life. When he’d broken up with you, you had spent a third of your life with him.

“Then you probably should be drinking some more,” Hoseok says decidedly, grabbing the bottle of wine to refill your glass. You remove it just in time, and he stops in time not to spill anything Looks like his reflexes aren’t too bad, even after drinking. He pouts at you, and it’s, actually, adorable.

“What about you?” you ask, trying to change the subject, trying to push aside memories you want nothing to do with anymore. “Things didn’t work out with the girl you had over the other day?”

His face falls, and you feel bad, but at least you’re not talking about yourself anymore.

“I thought it was going good. I mean we— You probably heard it, right? I can hear you walk around at night. At ungodly hours, by the way. Your rhythm of sleep must be fucked.”

You laugh.

“I did hear you,” you admit, unable to stop yourself from grinning. “So I thought it was going good too.”

“Well, she ghosted me,” Hoseok sighs dramatically. “I couldn’t even get a nice ‘it’s not me it’s you’!” He tilts his head. “Wait. No.”

“You’re drunk, Hoseok,” you say affectionately. “You should get back to your apartment.”

“I’m not drunk,” he protests. “Hyejin’s drunk. I’m doing great. Could a drunk person do that?”

The second the words leave his mouth, you get ready to stop him. Every single time you’ve heard those, disaster followed. You’ve seen drunk men fall into bushes of nettles with their pants down, watched several girls faceplant, and, once, witnessed someone breaking a wrist. He’d been lucky, though, because his bike had never been the same after that.

You get out of your stool, worried both for Hoseok and for your apartment, and then he breaks into some elaborate dance moves. You can only stare in disbelief. You couldn’t do that at your most sober. You can’t take your eyes away from the graceful, efficient way his body moves, like he has absolute control over every single one of his muscles. When he shoots you a satisfied smile at the end, there’s only one thing you can think to answer.

“Wow.”

“Exactly.” He makes finger guns at you with his right hand, clicks his tongue, and winks. In doing so, he somehow upsets his balance, which was perfect only seconds ago, and has to catch himself on your table, but he doesn’t fall. That is, possibly, even more impressive. “So I’m not drunk,” he says, shaking his head to push some hair out of his eyes and leaning against your table like he’d planned for it all to happen exactly that way.

You look at him, and an unexpected softness blooms in your chest. Hoseok’s hot, you knew that already, but that’s not what you marvel at right now. No, you’re impressed by how endearing he is. How lovable.

All thoughts of Minsu are long gone. If you noticed it, you would probably hate the impact any mention of the break-up has on you, even though Minsu is such a small part of what you think about.

You would also realize how easily Hoseok takes your mind off it.

“You’ve convinced me,” you nod, hoping he’s too drunk to pick up on the sarcasm. “But I’m sure you’re tired.”

He tilts his head, considering it.

“This time, I think you have a point.”

He’s so serious that you have to laugh, and that makes him smile. It’s not one of those wide, bright smiles that you’ve gotten used to. It’s much more subdued, lifts only a corner of his lips, and yet it feels… intimate. It’s not performative. It’s just for himself, and it takes your breath away.

“I’ll get going,” he tells you softly. “Thank you for tonight. Your friend was fun and it was nice of you to let us bother you.”

“You didn’t bother me,” you answer honestly.

Hoseok smiles and looks down at his feet, and you wonder if he believes you. It’s true, though. You like listening to people talk. You don’t mind that you weren’t included. Him and Hyejin needed to vent, and you were happy to be there for it.

“If you ever want to talk to someone about that again, I’ll be here,” you find yourself saying, hoping it doesn’t come off as strange. “And Hyejin won’t mind either, if she’s around. I think she liked you.”

Hoseok laughs, and you feel relieved. You’ve noticed it before, but he does have a nice laugh, and you’ve gotten used to it since you’ve moved in. It would suck if you couldn’t hear it anymore.

You walk him out, then wait for him in his embrasure until he gets to his door. He sends you a mocking glance while turning his key into the lock.

“I’m not going to collapse in the five meters that separate our apartments, you know.”

“I don’t. What if you fall asleep between our doors and you spend the night there?”

He laughs like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard, and you nod. Yup. He’s definitely drunk, and you’re definitely making the right choice by waiting for him to be back in safely.

“Say goodbye to Hyejin for me!”

“Don’t forget to lock the door behind you!”

Another laugh, but no reply. You smile, then close and make sure you lock your door behind you.

Inside, you cover Hyejin with a blanket, clean up around your apartment a little and then, after brushing your teeth, let yourself fall into bed. You’re exhausted, and you know you’re probably going to regret that one glass of wine in the morning — you can’t do alcohol.

It was a strange night, all in all. Fun, by your admittedly low standards, but strange. You don’t know where you stand with your neighbor now. You like things to be clear-cut, otherwise you risk getting lost in the awkwardness of the in-betweens, and they’re definitely not — are you friends? Are you neighbors? Were you too cold? Too friendly? Does he think you’re weird?

“G’night, (Y/N),” a sleepy voice says from the other side of the wall, and you smile. He’s drunk, and you’re sure that’s why he says that, but it’s still nice.

“Goodnight, Hoseok.”

Maybe, for once, the in-between you’re standing in is not that bad.

Hoseok has another date. You know, because he asks for the corkscrew back. He looks as excited as the last time when you open your door, and you can’t help but compare him to a puppy. You note, again, the nice white shirt, which does marvels for his arms and shoulders, with the top buttons open, revealing some skin. Hoseok looks— he looks good. You knew that, of course, and yet it still hits you.

You find yourself a little jealous of the girl who’s in his apartment. Not just for that, but because, from what you’ve seen of him so far, he’s a pleasant guy to be around. He’s nice, energetic, funny, he has a great laugh. There’s simply nothing not to like.

For the first time since— For the first time, you think that maybe you should date again. Not him necessarily, he’s probably way out of your league, but someone. Surely, you could find someone. You don’t think you’d look as happy as Hoseok does now, but maybe you could have some fun.

You give him the corkscrew, wish him good luck.

“You don’t need luck when you look like that,” he says, putting a hand under his chin and winking, and it makes you laugh. “Thanks,” he adds. “I’ll invest in one of those so I don’t have to keep annoying you, by the way. I promise!”

That night, you spend a lot of time with your headphones on, and you end up sleeping on your couch, in a weird attempt to give him some privacy.

(You hope he doesn’t keep his promise.)

You’re surprised to see Hoseok at your door the next time. Not because of the promise, though you remember it — you doubt that he does. You’ve learnt through time that people often forget things they don’t find important. You never do, and you wonder if it’s because your brain has trouble separating what matters and what doesn’t.

No, you’re surprised because it’s too early for him to have a date, and because he already has your corkscrew.

“Hey,” he says, and the smile he gives you is a little droopy and tired, “does your invitation still stands?”

Your eyes widen and you nod, pushing yourself out of the way so he can come in.

“Of course, but I don’t have alcohol. Do you want me to call Hyejin?”

He laughs, and you wonder if that was a weird thing to say.

“If she’s available, absolutely. I don’t know how I made it without a Hyejin in my life until now.”

That makes you chuckle, and you whole-heartedly agree. Hyejin’s indispensable.

Unfortunately, it turns out she can’t make it that night, but she sounds excited by the idea. She asks you to tell Hoseok you’ll invite him next time she’s around, so you do, and he’s as happy about it as she is. The two of them make an obvious pair, and you’re sure they’d grow to be good friends if they spent more time together.

After that, Hoseok gets a pack of beer from his apartment, and you grab one, which you keep in your hand while he downs several others. He talks about things that are happening around him. His job as an accountant — “Can you tell me why I thought that was a good idea?” —, the dance lessons he takes on the side — “otherwise I’d go crazy“ —, his friends — “Idiots! All of them! They’re lucky I love them so much!�� —, and also, your taste in music, which he’s very aware of given the complete lack of soundproofing between your apartments — “Listen, sad ballads are well and good, but have you considered listening to something happy?”.

At this point, he gets on his feet and starts to dance, and just like the last time, you think he’s amazing at this.

“C’mon!” he says, dancing his way to you and grabbing your hands. “You have to join me!”

You try to protest, but you know you’re not going to be able to resist him. When he makes you spin, you let out a loud laugh, and you try not to think too much about the way his hand naturally falls to your hip to help you keep your balance. You’re sure he hasn’t noticed, that it’s normal behavior for him, and you don’t want to look too affected. Your cheeks likely betray you, but Hoseok doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he lets you go after rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, once.

“You need to enjoy yourself sometimes!” he says, almost threateningly. “If you don’t, I’ll come over and make you!”

You wish he would.

“So,” you say after he’s fallen back into silence, staring at his beer bottle with a little too much intensity, “things didn’t work out with the girl you had over last time?”

Hoseok sighs.

“No,” he mumbles. “She said I was moving too fast for her.”

“Were you?”

He looks taken off-guard by your question.

“I don’t think I was,” he replies after giving it a second of thought. “I didn’t pressure her or anything. I think she didn’t want a relationship, and she didn’t want to tell me that.”

“That sucks,” you say, shaking your head. Hoseok seems pretty calm about it, if a little dejected, but you feel annoyed just thinking of that girl that you’ve never met. “She put the blame on you instead of being honest.”

“Better now than later, though,” he says, sounding deep in thought. “I’m disappointed, but I’m not hurt. If she realized after the date that we weren’t a good fit, she did the right thing.”

For a fleeting second, you wonder when Minsu knew, how long he’d had doubts, what he could have done differently to hurt you less, but the thought quickly vanishes. You still think the girl should have been truthful about it. You’re about to say so when Hoseok lets out a little laugh.

You’ve come to realize that there is a lot of depth to both his smiles and his laughs. They don’t always mean that he’s happy. He does them even when he’s sad. You’re not sure why, but if you were to guess, you’d say he doesn’t like giving in to the sadness, and the smiles and laughs are ways of fighting it off.

“The thing is— I get it. I know I can be… a little too much,” he says sheepishly, and you can tell that the words are painful to say, even if he’s acting nonchalant. He might have heard them one too many times.

Hearing that makes you feel bad. It makes something deep inside you ache. Maybe because the corners of his lips are falling, or maybe because, for the first time since he’s walked into your apartment, he looks like he’s about to cry. Maybe it’s because of how unjustified it seems to you. You love Hoseok’s energy, his enthusiasm, but you’re not sure how to tell him that.

So, instead of trying to come up with something, you reach over the table and grab his hand gingerly. The gesture is not the most smooth, because you’re pretty bad at physical demonstrations, but Hoseok immediately squeezes your fingers in his.

“That’s fine,” you tell him, doing your best to smile at him. “I can be… a little not enough.”

“You?” he protests immediately, shaking his head, “No way! I refuse to believe anyone’s ever told you that!”

His offended tone makes you chuckle, but you don’t miss how relieved he seems by the distraction, and you don’t blame him.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you tell him conspiratorially, “but I can be a little awkward, and I’m not the best at making conversation.”

At that, he bursts out laughing, but when he stops, the look he gives you is so soft that you feel yourself melt under his gaze.

“But you’re the best listener,” he says, and his tone is gentle and fond and you don’t know what to to do with yourself. You feel rooted to your spot, unable — and unwilling — to escape. You have the feeling your hand is burning up in his. You’re sure you’re blushing. There’s no way you’re not blushing right now.

“I don’t think you’re too much,” you blurt out. “I think you’re just the right amount.”

You really, really wish you were even just a little better at speaking to people.

Hoseok’s eyes widen at your statement, and then he smiles at you. It’s a genuinely happy smile that you couldn’t have imagined on his lips a moment ago.

“Thank you,” he says.

He doesn’t add anything. He doesn’t have to.

After that night, after you made sure once more that Hoseok got back to his apartment safely, even if he was far less intoxicated than the last time, and after he wished you goodnight from his room again, Hoseok and you start making small talk when you see each other. It doesn’t seem like much, but it’s a huge victory for you. Before that, you’d stayed years without exchanging more than a nod with your neighbors.

There are a couple more times at your place. Him and Hyejin meet again and, like you’d predicted, get along perfectly. Sometimes, your stomach twists a little when he puts his hand on her knee, or when she wraps an arm around his shoulders for a brief hug, but you try not to think too much about it. You don’t want to think about it, even if deep down, you know what is happening.

You’ve been through it before, after all, and it didn’t end well for you.

You blink when the lights turn back on, trying to adjust to the light. Next to you, Hyejin stretches.

“Well, that was something,” she says.

You feel too awestruck to reply just now, so you nod.

“Hoseok really is that amazing, isn’t he?”

“He is,” you say, and you let out a soft chuckle. You remember him dancing in your kitchen, completely wasted, and you remember how impressed you’d been then. You hadn’t realized then how much better he would be when he was sober.

“We owe him one for inviting us,” Hyejin continues. She’s used to making the conversation for the two of you anyway. “Think he could introduce me to one of the other dancers?”

You laugh and, in an unusual demonstration of affection, link your arm with hers. It’s not like you, but you’re feeling great after watching the performance. Hyejin’s right, of course. It was really nice of Hoseok to give you tickets to his dance group’s show. He’d looked so nervous, and after seeing this, you absolutely cannot imagine why. He has to know how incredible he looks, right?

You and Hyejin wait around for a little while, until Hoseok comes out. You’re not the only ones here to see him and the other dancers, and though Hyejin would happily call out to him, you manage to make her wait until he approaches you. His smile is bright and blinding when he finds you, and you feel your heart flutter. Hoseok’s smile has the strangest effects on you.

“So,” he starts, rubbing his hands together, “what did you guys think? Did you like it?”

“You were incredible,” you say, and the way his eyes shine when he looks at you disarms you completely. For a second, the world fades out around you. The people, the noise, the voices — gone in an instant. It’s just the two of you, and the affection with which Hoseok looks at you has you frozen in your spot.

You’re familiar with the feeling, have tried your best to dismiss it in the recent months, but this time, you don’t shy away from it. You like how Hoseok makes you feel, and even if a part of you is whispering in your ears that you’re taking a risk in letting anyone make you feel like that again, you ignore it. You’re willing to take that risk, and that realization makes your head spin.

You can’t look away from Hoseok, and he isn’t looking away from you either.

Then Hyejin starts to talk about the show, and the spell is broken. You don’t mind the interruption, and in fact, when you hear her speaking, you quickly find yourself interested. Hyejin is good with visual arts, in a way you aren’t, and it’s fascinating to hear her commentaries. Hoseok seems sucked in, too, but there is a strangeness in the air, a feeling, between you and him. You feel it in the briefest of looks, the softest of touches, his hand brushing against yours, in a smile that’s much softer than the ones he usually gives. You’re aware you could very well be imagining it, but there is also a chance you aren’t.

(God, you hope you aren’t.)

You weren’t too happy when Hyejin told you about the party. Now that you’re here, you want nothing more than to run away. You’re seriously considering it when Hyejin grabs your arm, and you know that she knows you were about to bail on her. Usually, you’d feel bad, but not tonight.

Minsu is here.

With his new girlfriend.

The one he cheated on you with.

You knew it was only a matter of time, because you have the same group of friends, and because it’s not like anyone knows what he did to you — you’re not sure they would pick your side even if they did —, but you still aren’t looking forward to seeing him again. In fact, it could never happen, and you would find it to be too soon. It’s not like this is still a gaping wound. It’, You don’t think you will ever forget about it, about the feelings you experienced then, sure, but the love you felt for him is long gone. Now it’s more like a phantom limb that throbs every once in a while.

Part of you is somewhat afraid that seeing him will revive it, though, and you never want to go through that again.

But it’s been over a year now. You need to be over this, and you guess tonight might as well be the acid test for that.

You expect Hyejin to berate you, but the look in her eyes is one of pity, which you hate. When she leans to whisper in your ear, you think she’s going to say some encouraging words. Instead, she hits with something else entirely.

“Hoseok’s by the drinks.”

…What?

“I invited him, I thought it would be a good idea.”

Right.

“You should go keep him company!”

Then she quickly vanishes, but not before you can throw her a piercing glance. You know your friend. You can tell when she’s trying to set you up with someone.

She’s lucky you don’t mind, but you’re pretty sure she knows that. You don’t tend to be the best at hiding your feelings, no matter how hard you try, and you’ve been in the situation before when she knew you liked someone before you did.

You guess the set-up merely confirms something you had felt building up for a while now, all while avoiding the obvious conclusion.

You like Hoseok.

You find him quickly, making small talk with some of your friends, and some more people you don’t recognize. The group isn’t what it used to be. Over the years, some people left, others brought in friends of theirs, and while there are still a good portion of your high school friends — well, of people you went to high school with — you definitely don’t know all of them.

For a second, you wonder if you should interrupt. Hoseok’s a natural when it comes to all this social stuff, a real extrovert. He looks amazing, right now, in one of those shirts you’ve seen him wear on dates, his hair nicely done. Everyone he’s talking to looks absolutely charmed, and for the second time tonight, you consider running away.

Then Hoseok sees you, and his smile widens, and he waves you over. You give polite nods and introductions, finding out that you actually do know some of the people you originally didn’t recognize, and grab yourself a glass of wine to feel a little more included. Hoseok puts his hand on your shoulder at first, and then if falls to the small of your back. You find yourself relaxing a little, standing by his side. You don’t know what it is about him and his touch that you find so grounding. You’ve never disliked physical contact, even if you don’t tend to initiate it, but with him it’s— different. Everything is.

That doesn’t stop you from feeling relieved when the group moves on and you find yourself alone with him. Maintaining a conversation with a lot of people is exhausting.

“Is everything going okay?” you ask. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Well, it’s not a party until I walk in,” Hoseok grins cockily, tilting his head towards you. “Why, are you tired of seeing my face everywhere you go?”

“I don’t think that could ever happen,” you laugh, and there it is again, on Hoseok’s face, that look he gives you from time to time, for a reason you haven’t figured out yet. His eyes widen, and his lips curl into that smile that’s not as bright as the one he usually gives, but just as sincere. It makes heat pool in your stomach.

“That’s good,” he says softly.

There is probably something more there than you realize, and you want to ask about it, but you see Minsu and his girlfriend from the corner of your eye. Before you can think about it, you’ve grabbed Hoseok so he can serve as a shield between you and the rest of the room. The move surprises him, and he grabs onto you to stabilize himself, fingers wrapping around your arms. He’s close, but you can’t think about this right now.

“My ex is here,” you mumble when he shoots you a questioning look.

“Oh,” he says, and you miss the hint of disappointment in his voice. “The one you were serious with?”

You didn’t think he would remember that.

“Yeah,” you reply with a grimace. “With his new girlfriend. I just— I don’t want to speak to them.”

A decided expression settles on Hoseok’s face.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he whispers at you.

You barely have the time to blink at him before he starts leading you towards the exit. You don’t know if it’s that much more discreet, not with the way he keeps his back turned to the room and his shoulders squared, taking his role as your human shield very seriously, but you’re still grateful.

The second you’ve set foot outside, you burst out laughing, and Hoseok quickly joins you.

“Thank you, Hoseok,” you smile once you’ve caught your breath. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Walked out the door, I guess,” he replies, lifting his hands to arrange your hair.

You stay still for him. You don’t mean just that, though. You can’t express how much you appreciate his support right now, instead of the pity you usually get. You like that Hoseok turned this into— a joke. That he made you laugh about the way you’re hiding from your ex, instead of making you feel pathetic.

Just as you're thinking that, a wave of affection for him bursts in your chest, filling you with warmth, and you have no idea what to do with it. Especially not when he’s standing so close to you, biting his lower lip with concentration as he runs his fingers through your hair.

You kind of want to kiss him, but something tells you the timing isn’t right.

Finally, Hoseok takes a step back with a satisfied smile.

“There. Perfect.”

“I’ll have to let Hyejin know you’ll replace her as my personal hairdresser,” you chuckle.

“Oh, I’ll fight her for that spot!”

And there it is again. You’re laughing. You just saw Minsu again, and yet you’re laughing. The very idea would have sounded ludicrous a few months ago. Not because of Minsu per say, but because you didn’t think there would be anything to joke about. Or anyone to laugh with.

But Hoseok is here. By your side, in your life.

In your heart.

Someone clears their throat next to you, and you know even before turning around.

Minsu’s standing there. He looks good, if you’re being honest. He doesn’t have the dark circles under his eyes that you had gotten used to when you were dating, from the all-nighters he pulled when he was in college, and he’s clean-shaven. He’s wearing his favorite jacket, and that might be what you’re most taken aback by. The fact that you know this jacket. He used to put it on your shoulders when you got cold.

You suddenly feel an unexpected hatred for it.

“(Y/N),” he says, softly, and you can only look at him. You didn’t expect this. You didn’t expect that he would say your name so gently, with such affection. It wasn’t— It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. You’d told yourself he hated you, that he would make fun of you, that he was such an asshole. This is so much worse, and yet you can’t say you haven’t thought about it. This is so much worse, because if he’s not an asshole, how could he do that to you?

What kind of person would you have to be to deserve to go through that?

“Hi, I’m Hoseok!” Hoseok exclaims next to you, filling the uncomfortable silence. He extends a hand to Minsu and, while doing that, wraps an arm around your shoulders, and you feel a little better.

“Hi,” you say, belatedly, while Minsu shakes Hoseok’s hand and smiles genuinely.

“Minsu,” he tells Hoseok before turning his gaze back to you “This is great,” he comments, pointing at you and Hoseok, and you don’t get it. “The two of you— You look great together. I’m so happy for you.”

You’d like to say that you snapped, that you lost control, that you didn’t know what you were doing, but that would be a lie. Sure, in that moment, you feel burning, seething rage running through your veins. Sure, you consider murder for a hot second. But you’re in control of yourself when you dismiss the idea, just like you’re in control of yourself when your hand makes a circular movement, splashing Minsu’s face with the entirety of your glass of wine and, hopefully, ruining that stupid jacket of his.

Minsu looks at you in disbelief. You look at him in disbelief, as wine drips from his chin.

Then you run. Hoseok’s hand slips from your shoulder, and you’re all too aware of the way people stare at you as you beeline towards the exit. You hear Hyejin, and perhaps Hoseok, call your name as you put your glass back on a table, but you’re out before either of them can get to you, and as much as you love them, you think it’s probably for the best.

You get home at 7 am, which is late, even for your fucked up sleep patterns. You feel a little better. You spent a good chunk of the night outside, walking, before finding a café that was open. You didn’t want to go home.

When you arrive at your door, and find a sleeping Hoseok leaning against it, you think you may have made a mistake. He looks peaceful, but he’s still sitting on the floor in the cold hallway, in front of your door, and guilt spreads through you. You kneel in front of him, and try to gently shake him awake.

He barely budges. You try again, and he lets out a sleepy groan, head rolling to fall on his shoulder. He looks adorable.

“Hoseok, hey,” you call out gently. “You can’t stay here. We need to get you to bed, okay?”

The only reply you get is another groan. With a sigh, you pull on his arm, trying to lift him up. He’s heavy, way more than you would have thought with his figure, but you guess muscle weighs a lot. You’re about to give up when you feel him straightening a little. Not enough to walk on his own, but enough for you to half carry him. You make it to his door, fish the key out of his pocket while trying not to think about his muscled thigh under your finger or— anything else, then struggle to open it and get the two of you through.

Inside, you bump against his couch, and you swear between your teeth. You’ve always met at your apartment, and you’ve only been in his for a few minutes at a time, so you’re not familiar with the lay-out. You make it to the bedroom, unsteady under Hoseok’s weight, and are delighted to be able to push him down onto the bed.

That delight lasts for less than a second, though, because as he falls, the arm that you’d put around your shoulders to carry him drags you down with him. Your exhausted brain manages a ‘fuck’ before you collapse into Hoseok’s chest. It’s not the most pleasant feeling, feeling rather hard under you, but that doesn’t change anything to the fact that your heart is beating like crazy. Your nose is pressed against his neck, and you breathe in the smell of his after-shave, and you want to stay here.

But, as tempting as the idea is, you can’t do that when Hoseok doesn’t even know you’re here. Gathering all your willpower, you push against his chest to get up.

And then Hoseok rolls over, suddenly covering you with his body while all you can do is squeak.

This is the dumbest thing ever, you think as you vaguely try to push him off, already knowing that this is a lost cause. There’s no way this is happening.

Yet, as the minutes pass by and Hoseok shows no sign of moving again, instead wrapping an arm around your waist with a contended sigh, you have no choice but to accept your fate. You’re trapped, in Hoseok’s bed, underneath him, he’s probably drunk — that would explain why you can’t wake him up — and tomorrow morning is going to be unbelievably awkward.

It should be hard to fall asleep, in those circumstances. In fact, you shouldn’t fall asleep at all, just wait patiently until he lets you go to slip away. But right now, engulfed in Hoseok’s warmth, you can’t manage to stay awake and, as you drift into sleep, you cannot find it in yourself to regret it.

You wake to the feeling of hands gently moving up and down your back. The second you stir, though, they stop, and the warmth they provided you disappears. Whatever you’re laying on also tenses, hardening under you, and you want to protest. Fortunately for you, even in that state, you realize that mattresses and pillows can’t harden, which helps you piece together that you’re not laying on a mattress, which means you have to be laying on—

Oh God. Your eyes snap open, and you sit up way faster than you probably should have.

“Careful!” Hoseok protests, sitting up as well, reaching out to steady you. He removes his hands quickly once he’s sure you’re not going to fall over, burying them under his blanket.

“You— you’ve been awake a long time?” you ask, voice thick with sleep.

“Um, a little while,” he admits, shifting under your gaze. “I assumed you needed the rest. You must have come home very late.”

There is a hint of reproach in his voice, laced with something else that you cannot identify, and you grimace. You take a second to rub your eyes, but even once that’s done, you find you can’t look at Hoseok.

“I did,” you mumble. “I’m sorry about last night, by the way. It must have been very— very uncomfortable. Especially after I left you with— I’m so sorry.”

Hoseok lets out a soft laugh, but you get the distinct feeling that it’s to make you feel better. You’re getting good at telling what his laughs mean.

“It’s fine. Your, erm, your friends told me about you and Minsu. I didn’t realize you guys were that serious.” Silence. “Eight years, huh?”

You press your hand against your forehead. Talking about you and Minsu’s long relationship always makes you feel weird. The fact that he was in your life, practically everyday, for eight years, and that he disappeared from it without a warning and now he’s gone and everything is practically the same is unbelievably confusing to you. Maybe you should miss him, and you do miss some things about the relationship, like being in love, and sharing an apartment, and having someone to come home to, but you don’t miss him. Not anymore.

You know Hyejin’s worried you moved on too fast, after him. That she thinks you didn’t take time to heal. Truth be told, it hurt for a lot longer than she knows, but it was still relatively short, compared to what you’ve seen her go through after some of her relationships. You don’t know what to say about it. After the break up, you couldn’t find it in yourself to still love him, or to miss him.

“Eight years,” you repeat, shaking your head. “Is that all they said?”

“…Not exactly, no.” Hoseok sounds so different from his usual self, all serious, looking at his hands, anywhere in the room but you. You can’t blame him, though, considering you’re doing the same thing. “They said you were high school sweethearts. That you were basically— perfect for each other.”

You want to scoff at that. It’s true that you got together in high school, and it’s true that people thought you made a nice picture. They were surprised that you would have gotten a boyfriend, usually, but the surprise vanished once they saw Minsu. You two clicked, in so many ways. The two of you worked. You made sense.

But you don’t believe there is such a thing as ‘being perfect for each other’. The two of you always had to try to make the relationship work.

Until one day he stopped trying.

“So I wanted to say— I get it. It must have been hard to hear him say that. You should try to deal with your sadness in other ways but—”

What? What is he talking about?

“—but I know what it’s like to see an ex you still have feelings for with their new partner, and it sucks, though, again, next time you could—”

“That’s not it,” you blurt out, and Hoseok stops in the middle of his rambling to finally look at you.

“What do you mean?” he asks, tone cautious, almost guarded.

You can’t believe what you’re about to tell him. You haven’t told anyone before, not even Hyejin. If she finds out, she’s probably going to kill you for not telling her and for telling someone else, and yet, in that moment, you can’t not talk about it. The thought of Hoseok thinking that you did that out of jealousy, that you still have feelings for Minsu is unbearable to you.

“What did they say about the break-up?” you ask.

Hoseok blinks, then frowns as he tries to remember it. He drank a lot last night, especially after you left. More than he had intended to.

“That no one knew what happened.”

“And Minsu didn’t have anything to say to that?”

“…I think he was cleaning his jacket at that point.”

You hope you stained it and he wasn’t able to get them off.

“We didn’t just— break up. I— We lived together back then. In an apartment. Because— That’s not important. What I mean is that— I walked in on him. And her. In our bed.”

You hadn’t made a noise for a few moments, so you’re not sure how they noticed you, but next thing you knew she was shrieking, covering her chest, and Minsu was walking towards you, awkwardly pulling up his pants.

“He— He told me he was in love with her. And that was it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. Hoseok isn’t saying anything, and you don’t want to look at him for now.

“That’s why I got angry. It’s not that I was jealous, it’s that— He doesn’t get to say that to me. Not after doing that.”

Hoseok grabs your hand, intertwines his fingers with yours.

“You didn’t tell that to anyone?”

You shake your head.

“Why not?”

You stare in the emptiness for a while. Reliving the story had been unpleasant, even if you don’t feel anything for Minsu anymore, but it’s the answer to that question that brings a choked sob to your lips.

“Because— How can you do that to someone? How can you— how can you do that to someone you’ve been with for eight years? Someone you said you loved?” You feel small and the weight on your chest is painful, unshakeable. “What kind— what kind of person would they have to be for you to feel that it was— that it was okay to do that?”

At that point, the tears are rolling down your cheeks and your sobs make it impossible to talk. Not because of Minsu, but because of the fear that is building in your stomach even now. The fear that you deserved that. You hiccup loudly, and then you’re pressed against Hoseok’s chest and he’s holding you tight, hand gently caressing your hair.

“It’s not your fault,” he tells you softly.

“You don’t know that. M-maybe I’m a terrible person.” You don’t believe that, not when you say it out loud. But… what if?

“(Y/N),” Hoseok says, almost sternly, “you’re not a terrible person. Sure, you listen to Taylor Swift at two am, and you cook at two am, and you take your shower at two am, and— Actually, you could fix all of those issues by going to bed like a normal human being.”

That has the benefit of making you giggle.

“None of that makes you a terrible person,” he continues, satisfied with that small victory. “And I know we haven’t known each other for long, but I have never thought you were anything close to terrible.”

You let a long breath out. It doesn’t quite rid you from your fears — Minsu knew you for over ten years, he had much more time to discover all of your ugly parts — but it still helps.

“You know, I was doing really bad, the night you and Hyejin invited me to join you for a drink.”

“That was mostly Hyejin,” you say with a sniff. You’re not crying anymore, thankfully, but you don’t want to leave Hoseok’s embrace just yet.

“Because you’d rather die than talk to a stranger unless you absolutely have to,” Hoseok laughs, and you think that he’s gotten to know you quite well. “But you were really nice to me that night and I think I needed that.”

He lets go of you carefully, like you made of porcelain and he’s afraid you’re going to break if he’s too brusque. You don’t, obviously, but the world suddenly feels cold, without his arms around you. He grabs a box of tissue from the night-stand and hands them to you.

“Minsu’s an asshole for what he did to you,” he tells you, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him. “He should never have put you through that.”

“But—” But if he didn’t love me, he was right to leave me. He had the right to fall in love with someone else, even if it was going to hurt me. Sure, he could have done it another way, but is he to blame here?

“Not buts!” Hoseok protests. “Look, I know you must have loved him. I know that it’s not easy to reconcile that image of him with his actions, but you don’t have to look for excuses for him. You don’t even have to forgive him.”

You stare at Hoseok and, without a warning, you feel the absolute need to kiss him. You’ve thought about kissing him before, certainly, but it’s never been such a powerful urge. You can’t think of anything other than his lips against yours, his body pressed against your own, and it takes all your willpower to resist it.

Because, of course, kissing him as you’re talking about your ex would be a terrible idea and send all the wrong signals.

“You understand that, right?” he insists. He leans towards you so that his eyes are on the same level as yours and you think you really shouldn’t be looking in his beautiful brown eyes right now.

“I do,” you reply, glancing away.

“I’m serious. You shouldn’t blame yourself for—”

“I get it, Hoseok. I promise.” Then, still without looking at him: “Thank you.”

He sighs.

“I’m so angry you had to go through that,” he says with a pout. “If I see him again, do you give me permission to break his nose?”

It should worry you that you actually consider the proposition.

“He’s not worth it,” you decide. “But I appreciate the offer.”

“What if I accidentally kick him in the shin?”

“Well, if it’s an accident…”

Hoseok bursts out laughing, and you’re utterly and completely in awe at the sound.

“You can count on me!” he winks, and he doesn’t know how he makes your heart flutter, how in this moment, you realize how utterly head over heels for him you are.

(It’s a pretty nice feeling, actually.)

Hoseok has another date over. You sleep on your couch again, and you try your best not to think about it.

(You take it back. It sucks.)

You run into Hoseok after coming back from doing your laundry. He’s in a good mood, and you hate that pang in your chest at the thought that it’s because of the girl he saw the other day. You should be happy for him. That’s the least you can do.

“Hey!” he greets you cheerfully. “Need some help with that?”

“Not really, I—”

But he’s already taken it from your hands. You shake your head with a smile as he gestures for you to get into the elevator before him. God, you like him.

“I can do that, you know,” you tell him at the doors close.

“Sure, but I can do it better.” Hoseok winks at you, then regains some seriousness. “How are you doing?”

From his tone, you know he doesn’t mean ‘in general’. He’s probably worried because of how you cried in his arms the other day, which you find a little embarrassing, but you still like that he asked.

“I’m doing great,” you tell him honestly.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely.” Then you nudge him playfully. “Thanks to you.”

He has a little laugh, sounding unsure what to make of that, but you mean it. Talking about the situation did more good than you would ever have expected, and you’re… you’re just happy you did it with him.

“What about you?”

“Oh, I’m fine!” he says, one second too late, like he’d been lost in his thoughts — except he wasn’t, he was looking at you. “Work, neighbors keeping me up, you know how it is.”

“Ugh, neighbors are the worst,” you grin.

“You’re telling me!”

The doors open with a ding, and the two of you step out, slowly making your way to your door. It’s silly, but you don’t want to leave his presence. You linger at your door for a few more minutes, talking about the weather, of all things. Finally, when all the small-talk you can muster has left your mouth, you hold your hands out to get your basket back.

“I feel like I’m constantly thanking you, these days,” you chuckle. “I wonder how I ever got anything done without you.”

“I think that deserves a kiss!” Hoseok exclaims, and your heart stops, but when you look at him, you see he’s tapping his cheek. He’s probably not serious and not expecting you to do anything.

But you get on your tiptoes and plant a brief kiss right where he was pointing.

“Thanks!” you say quickly, slamming the door behind you as fast as possible so you don’t see his reaction. “Have a nice day!” you yell from behind it.

Hoseok looks at your door. You’re leaning against it on the other side, dying to look through the peephole to see his reaction, and yet not daring to. Because of that, you miss the way he rubs his cheek, the amused smile that follows it, and the way he skips away. You do hear his happy whistle, though, so you decide you can’t have gone completely wrong, and you’re happy with that.

You hesitantly knock on Hoseok’s door. Things didn’t work out with the girl, and he texted you to come over for one of your usual pity parties, but he didn’t seem as down about it as he usually is. Still, you stopped at a grocery store to pick up some wine while coming back from the publishing house where you work as a proofreader. You usually work from home — hence your ridiculous schedule — but you had needed to drop by to discuss some things. The conversation had been difficult on your end, taking a lot of energy from you, and you were definitely happy about going home and blowing off some steam with your neighbor.

From inside, you can hear Hyejin’s voice, but also several others, and that makes you recoil. Talking with strangers is not something you want to do tonight. But before you can choose to run off, the door opens, and you’re greeted by Hoseok’s beautiful smile, so of course, there is no way for you to leave.

“(Y/N)!” he exclaims happily. “And you’ve brought wine! That’s great, Hyejin was worried we might not have enough. Come on, I have some people I want to introduce you to.”

You don’t even try to escape when he puts an arm around your shoulder — you have to remind yourself that it’s Hoseok and that’s just a thing he does, that it doesn’t necessarily mean anything — and leads you into the apartment.

There, you find Hyejin sitting next to a tall, dark-haired guy you recognize from Hoseok’s dance performance.

The introductions and the smiles they give you almost make your head spin, and once they’re done, you’re relieved to be able to fall on a chair next to the one that’s been the most quiet so far — Yoongi, if your memory isn’t playing tricks on you. That relief only grows when he doesn’t try to talk to you. Instead, you give each other a silent nod, and you both seem very content to let the others do all the talking.

As it turns out, they don’t limit themselves to talking. They clearly all have a lot of energy to spend, and you can merely stare at it, mesmerized. The blonde guy standing by the kitchen sink — Jimin, you remember, forcing yourself to recall their names — starts to demonstrate some dance moves with perfect grace, and it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to abandon his spot next to Hyejin to join him, not as precise, but very enthusiastic. Hoseok jumps in, too, and suddenly there’s a dance crew in his living-room. These three have no business being this good.

“Jin, aren’t you going to join them?” Yoongi yells to a guy who has carefully moved out of the dancers’ way.

“Do you want to fight?” Jin shouts back, and Yoongi chuckles, clearly delighted he got a rise from his friend. “Why don’t you join them?”

Then Taehyung — fluffy brown hair — seemingly comes out of nowhere and tackles Jungkook, Namjoon — tall guy with glasses — who’d been pretty quiet so far gets up and tries to separate them, everyone picks a side and— It’s chaos.

It’s kind of like watching a car crash happen, except you’re having a lot of fun.

“They’re always like that,” Yoongi says next to you. His expression is perfectly stoic but his voice betrays his fondness.

“I guess now I understand where Hoseok gets all that energy from. He just doesn’t have a choice,” you smile, and Yoongi sighs.

For a moment, you don’t speak, happy with simply observing the others’ antics. You’re not sure how or why it happened, but Jin and Jungkook are the ones fighting now, and Hyejin, who’s clearly in her element here, is shouting some encouragements from her seat, which she hasn’t bothered to leave.

“Hoseok’s doing well,” Yoongi comments suddenly.

“I was thinking that, too,” you admit. “Usually, after things go wrong with a girl…”

“Is something happening between the two of you?”

You… had not been expecting that bluntness.

“Um,” you say, taken aback. Yoongi turns to look at you, and the way he glares at you makes you feel compelled to answer. He looked harmless a second ago, but now you’re thinking if looks could kill, you would be seconds away from getting murdered. You’re not sure what you did to deserve that, though. “I don’t think there is.” You tilt your head, thinking. “There definitely isn’t anything official.”

“I think Hoseok likes you,” Yoongi says without batting an eyelid.

You’re pretty sure telling you that breaks some kind of code, but, with the wonderful warmth spreading in your chest, you don’t think about complaining. Not for a second.

“I think I like Hoseok too,” you reply instead. You don’t know why you’re saying that to a near stranger, but when Yoongi nods, you feel that there is a deep understanding going on between the two of you.

“Hurt him and I will kill you,” he says matter-of-factly.

“That’s a little dramatic.”

“Hurt him and I will steal your doormat.”

Yeah, that sounds more reasonable. If you hurt Hoseok, you’ll deserve to get your doormat stolen.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything else on the subject, so you’re happy to drop it. You bring your attention back to the room to discover that Jungkook has wrestled Jin to the ground.

“How…”

“Don’t ask. I stopped trying to understand a long time ago.”

But, despite what he says, when Jin calls him, Yoongi jumps to the rescue. Namjoon takes his place next to you, making polite small talk, and it doesn’t feel as difficult as those things usually are for you. You’d even go as far as to say it’s… pleasant.

When you look up, you meet Hoseok’s worried eyes, and he smiles at you, silently asking if you’re okay. You smile back, and it’s like something melts inside you. It’s because of him, you piece together. You feel comfortable because you trust Hoseok to make you comfortable. And because those are his friends, and he wanted to introduce them to you… You feel safe.

Yoongi’s words replay in your mind. You have a hard time believing them, if you’re honest, but something has bloomed inside you, something you haven’t felt in quite some time, and something you don’t want to get rid of so quickly.

Hope.

“Will you be okay, Hobi?”

“We could help you clean!”

“I’m sorry about your lamp…”

Hoseok is quick to dismiss his friends’ concerns.

“It’s fine! (Y/N) is staying to help me, so you guys get home safely, okay? Namjoon, we can figure something out for the lamp.”

The tall man grimaces at that, and self-consciously rubs the back of his neck. You haven’t known him long, but something tells you it isn’t the first time something like that happens to him, which might explain why Hoseok is so calm about it. Then again, Hoseok always makes the best of every situation, so you can’t be quite sure.

“Here are your keys!” Jungkook says, handing them to you. He had just half-carried Hyejin to your apartment, where she’s going to spend the night. It’s for the best — she’s too drunk to get home by herself.

“Thanks,” you smile. It’s obvious that him and Hyejin have taken an interest in each other and, well, you think it wouldn’t be that bad if something happened there. He’s nice.

“So you guys are good?” Jimin insists, sounding worried. “You don’t want us to help?”

Hoseok firmly shakes his head.

“You get a good night of sleep!”

Greetings are exchanged, and then the door finally closes behind them, and it’s just you and Hoseok. He lets out a little sigh, then smiles at you.

“They’re a lot, aren’t they?” he asks, proudly.

“They’re great,” you reply, and you mean it. Sure, you feel tired, but you actually had fun tonight, which is not something you can say about most of the parties you go to. “Namjoon knows a lot about books. It was nice talking to him.”

Hoseok hums, moving past you to start cleaning up.

“I’m glad you liked them! They were really looking forward to meeting you. Yoongi said I was talking about you too much and that it made him curious.”

“I think Hoseok likes you.”

“You were only telling them good things about me, of course,” you joke, picking up the dishes that are laying on the table to put them in the sink.

“Well, there’s nothing bad to talk about,” Hoseok replies with the same tone, but there’s an underlying note of honesty to his voice.

“That’s simply not true.”

Hoseok laughs. You wonder if he means it, even a little. There are bad things to say about you, no doubt, but you wonder if he at least thinks the good outweighs the bad.

You’d take that.

You do some more cleaning while talking about his friends, and you end up perched on a worktop next to him while he does the dishes. The rest of the room isn’t spotless, and you doubt that lamp can be fixed, so Hoseok will need to get rid of it, but you think you did a pretty good job, all in all.

Hoseok starts humming to himself, and in that moment, you feel— satisfied. There’s nothing in particular to produce that feeling, and yet it’s exactly it. Cleaning a room at one am with him and being by his side while he does the dishes… You’re happy like that, you realize. It’s a strange thing to think about, and maybe that’s why it gives you the courage to talk.

“Hoseok?”

“Hm?”

When you don’t reply immediately, he looks up at you.

“What is it?” he asks. You take in a deep breath, run your fingers through your hair.

“What would you do if I kissed you?”

His eyes go wide, and his movements stop completely. He just stares at you, and in that moment, you really, really hate yourself for asking.

“That’s— That’s cheating,” he manages to say after what feels like an eternity. “You have to try it to find out about that.”

That’s fair, you decide, and before you can question yourself further, you lean forward, choosing to take that as an invitation. You’re slow in your movements, in case he wants to pull away, but he doesn’t. He stays perfectly still as your lips part, centimeters from his, as you put your hand on his shoulder to stabilize yourself, and he’s still perfectly still when you finally press your lips against his mouth.

He tastes salty, like the snacks you had earlier. You don’t mind it.

The first thing to move is his mouth, pressing back against yours, and it’s the softest kiss you’ve ever experienced.

Soon after that, his hands come out of the water and he quickly removes the gloves he was wearing. The second his right hand cups your cheek, the kiss turns urgent, passionate. His tongue darts into your mouth, and you wrap your arms around him with a pleased sigh, running your fingers on the back of his neck. A shiver runs through him, and next thing you know, he’s positioning himself between your legs, one hand firmly pulling you closer to him.

His body’s warm, toned, everything you’ve wanted for the past few months. He feels so good, and you’re quick to pull him in, hooking one of your legs behind his knee. He buckles, catches himself on the worktop and his lips stretch into a smile against yours. He tilts your head up ever so slightly, kissing you like he’s starving and wants to devour you whole. You respond with the same energy, fisting your hands in his shirt. It’s like you can’t get him close enough.

“How dare you,” Hoseok finally whispers when he pulls away from you, out of breath.

You shake your head, confused and a little dizzy. He’s grinning widely and looking at you like you’re one of the seven wonders, so he’s definitely not mad at you, but you have no idea what he means by that.

“How dare you make the first move?” he says, pressing a kiss against your jaw. “You’re the— the most infuriating person I know.”

You laugh at that, let him kiss his way down to your neck. You trail your foot up his thigh to wrap your leg around him, beckoning him closer.

“Yoongi said he thought you liked me,” you admit to him, with one hand in his hair, softly caressing his scalp.

“Seriously? I feel like I should beat him up— but right now I kinda want to buy him flowers.”

“A cactus.”

“Joke’s on you, Yoongi loves cacti. Hey—” He stops kissing you, straightens, and looks into your eyes. Affection is dancing in his, but you can tell he’s being serious. “I like you. Like, really like you. So, um, if you’re not— if we’re not on the same page here…”

He can’t think that.

“I’d just— I’d just appreciate if you could let me know. Because I don’t think I can have something with you if you don’t— don’t really want it.”

He sounds worried, genuinely so. He’s looking at you, and you know he’s baring his heart out to you in that moment. It almost shatters you, this moment, this honesty, his fear. Somehow, the idea that you could hurt him, without meaning to, is the most terrifying of them all. Your mind flickers to Minsu, and you wonder how he could hurt you like that, if he felt that way about you even for a second — but you don’t care. All that matters is that you know you would never hurt Hoseok like that.

You kiss him and he closes his eyes, hand tightening on your waist.

“I really like you,” you whisper. “Really like how you smile,” He smiles softly against your mouth. “really like how you laugh,” You start unbuttoning his shirt. “really like it when I see you in the hallway and you always take the time to ask me how my day has been,” You run your fingers over his chest, enjoying the feeling of his skin underneath yours, “really like the way you shine.”

“I shine?” he asks, stopping your hand to bring it to his lips, placing soft kisses on your fingertips.

You hum.

“More than anyone else.”

He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but decides against it. He can’t find the words to respond. Instead, he kisses you.

“Bedroom?” he asks. As much as he would love to have you, right here, it’s not the most comfortable setting for the first time, and he wants to give you an opportunity to back out, if you don’t want that now.

But you very much do.

“That sounds perfect.”

It’s a small miracle that you make it to the bedroom when you can’t keep your hands or mouths off each other. On the way there, which is extremely short when you actually look where you’re going, you manage to bump into the table, several walls, and to kick down a plant.

“We’ll blame it on Namjoon,” Hoseok mumbles into your mouth, and you laugh. You’ve been doing a lot of that, ever since meeting him.

He pulls away from you to take off his shirt, and you’re quick to get rid of your pants, discarding them on the floor. You’re about to do the same thing with the top you’re wearing when Hoseok’s hands stop you.

“May I?”

Of course he can. He pulls it over your head, and kiss you when you emerge from it. First, his hands settle on your naked shoulders, then, slowly, he trails them down your arms, intertwining your fingers with his. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, and you yourself get lost in the sensations, in how he’s towering over you, in how his hair brush against your temples, in the heat that radiates from him.

You inch closer to him, and he lets out a soft moan when you press yourself against him. You reach behind to get rid of your bra, and when it falls to the ground, your finally feel his skin against yours.

“Fuck,” Hoseok whispers in a low voice.

You pull him towards you as you climb onto the bed, and he follows, just like he follows when you lay down. Everything, his kisses, his touches, his body on top of yours— it all feels slow. Intimate. His long fingers run over your side, and you shiver. You want so much more than this, and yet it already feels overwhelming.

“Are you sure?” Hoseok asks you.

You look up at him. He’s kneeling between your legs, still wearing his black pants, draped over you. His pupils are wide, his body is so hot it could be on fire, and you can definitely feel his hardness pressed against you. He’s perfect.

“I’m sure,” you say, and when you kiss him again, his response isn’t slow anymore. Instead, he rolls his hips into you, and the friction forces a low moan out of you. That makes him smile.

One of his hands runs over your thigh as he gently spreads you open.

“I want you so bad,” he tells you in an urgent whispers.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“You’re impossible.”

But he listens, and after that, you don’t know what to focus on. His lips and his tongue, making their way down your neck, kissing your breasts, teasing your nipples, or his hands, as his thumb rubs against your clit and he slides a long finger inside you.

Your fingers dig into his hair and you bite on your lower lip harshly. You’re not usually loud in bed, but you know that moans and whimpers and pleas will come cascading out if you don’t stop them. You wouldn’t normally have a problem with that, but Hyejin is sleeping in your apartment, and you would appreciate it if she didn’t hear you.

Hoseok easily pushes another finger inside you, scissoring you open, and your entire body arches into him. You close your eyes, quietly calling out his name.

“You’re doing so good,” Hoseok whispers to you, voice so full of affection you feel that your heart is going to burst. “You look so, so beautiful for me.”

You’re so wet, so tight around his hand, and you want him so badly, want more than that, but there is no way you can stop him right now. You feel at his mercy and, fortunately for you, he’s the kindest tormentor there is.

“Fuck,” he says one more time, eyes roaming over your body, the way you’ve completely abandoned yourself in his arms, head thrown back, eyes closed. He wants to give you everything.

He increases his pace and wet sounds fill the room. You can’t think of anything other than him, and your mind is filled with Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok!

You come when he adds in a third finger. You tighten around him, letting out a high-pitched moan over which you have absolutely no control. Hoseok lets you ride your orgasm before removing his hand, still whispering praise in your ear.

It takes you a few moments to come down from your high, and when you do, you’re only too aware that he hasn’t gotten much from this at all, still painfully hard against your hip. You reach out to cup him through his jeans, and he groans, burying his head in your neck.

“You don’t have to,” he says, despite bucking against your hand. “I’m fine with—”

“Hoseok, trust me, I want this as much as you do.”

You kiss him, fumbling around to unbutton his jeans, and he joins you in pushing his pants down. He moans, louder than you did earlier, when you wrap your hand around him. You stroke him at a devilishly slow pace. His body is tense as a bow, his kiss turning sloppy when you tighten your grip ever so slightly. You love it, love the way he moans for you, love how vocal he is, love how his hips jerk to meet your movements even though you’re pretty sure he’s trying to keep still.

“If you keep that going, I’m going to—” Hoseok starts, small gasps breaking off his sentence, and you regretfully take your hand off him.

He’s thankful for it, because he desperately wants to have you, but he still can’t help the moan of disappointment that escape his lips. Someone else might feel embarrassed at how it makes you giggle, and maybe he would, but he sees adoration in your eyes when you look at him, when you lift a hand to stroke his cheek, and he simply doesn’t. He can’t when everything about you screams how much you care for him.

You slide your drenched panties down your legs and wait not so patiently as Hoseok reaches in the nightstand for a condom, then struggles to open the wrapper. Your foot rubs against his calf as he struggles to open it up, working as a painful reminder that you’re there, so close, so wet, so ready…

“Not helping,” he mumbles, fucking finally opening it. You join in to roll it on, your hand feeling so damn good around him, and when you lay on your back, there’s impatience in your eyes. He kind of wants to tease you about it, make the moment last, but he doesn’t have the strength to do that right now.

Instead, he lines his cock with your entrance and slowly pushes himself inside you. Your moan sounds loud, even with you trying to muffle it, and he replies with a groan. You push yourself on an elbow, shifting to find a more comfortable position, and you end up sitting on his thighs, straddling him. One of his hands comes rest on the small of your back, stabilizing you, while he puts the other one behind him to support his weight.

It’s overwhelming already, you around him, your breasts pressed against him, the kisses you’re peppering against his mouth.

And then you start moving. At first, you roll your hips experimentally, making sure you’ve adjusted to his cock inside you. When Hoseok throws his head back, though, you start bobbing up and down. It’s not a movement you could do for too long, but you don’t think you’re going to need long.

You wrap your arms tightly against him as you find just the right angle. You barely know what you’re doing, hips moving almost uncontrollably so he keeps hitting that sweet, sweet spot. Your thighs’ muscles start burning, but Hoseok’s moans, the desperate way he repeats your name like a mantra, keep you going.

“(Y/N), I’m— I’m gonna—”

You reach down to touch yourself, fingers rolling over your clit so you get just what you need to get over the edge.

Hoseok comes seconds before you do, with a loud moan. His fingers dig into your hip, and it’s probably going to leave a mark, but you’re doing the same thing with his shoulders. You chase your second orgasm of the night frantically and find it as he’s starting to soften inside you.

You collapse on top of him, both your bodies sweaty and exhausted but so, so deeply content.

It takes a while before either of you speaks again.

“Shower?” Hoseok asks, sleepily, and you nod. You feel good. You feel good against him, and you feel good when the two of you stumble towards the bathroom. You feel good when your body is pressed against him inside, all tensions gone, and you feel good when you rest your head on his chest in bed, drowsing into sleep next to him.

That’s all him, you realize. That’s all Hoseok.

And you’re more than happy with that conclusion.

As you’re getting ready for the marriage of two of your high school friends, you idly wonder how it’s going to be, to see Minsu there again, and then it hits you. You haven’t thought about him in a long, long time.

It’s not like he was always on your mind, after the break-up, but it did feel like you took a piece of him everywhere you went, a pain that never quite disappeared, a constant thorn in your side. You had tried your best, fully aware that it wasn’t doing you any good, but it was hard, after eight years, to get used to a world without him again. You wonder when you became okay with it again.

There’s a knock at your door, and you find Hoseok waiting for you when you open the door. He looks amazing. Perfect. Like all you ever wanted. You've been together for months now, and yet you can't seem to get used to it. You don't know if you really want to, either. You like being dazzled every time you see him. He flashes you a smile and leans in to give you a quick peck on the lips.

“You remember that you have a key, right?”

“Oh, I do remember, I just like knocking here. Brings back some memories I like.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re grinning.

“You look beautiful,” he tells you, eyeing your dress, and you humor him with a little twirl.

“Hyejin helped me pick it.”

Hyejin is probably the reason you’re invited to the wedding, actually. She had never cared about your outburst against Minsu, but some of your friends definitely hadn’t appreciated it, and you understood why they wouldn’t want that kind of crazy to their wedding. However, after you’d told her about how the break-up went down, she had pleaded for you, and gotten you off the persona non grata list.

She would probably have murdered you for not telling her sooner, but you used that same conversation to tell her about you and Hoseok, and that had overshadowed the first half of that discussion entirely.

Yes, you’re aware, that was a little manipulative, but it was that or being killed by your best friend, so you have no regrets.

“Hyejin has great tastes.”

“Don’t tell that to Jungkook, or we’ll never hear the end of it.”

Hoseok bursts out laughing, something akin to pride shining in his eyes. He loves that his friends are your friends now, loves that his favorite people all enjoy each other’s company.

He extends his hand to you, smiles when you take it. He initiates physical contact more often than not, but you never decline it.

“All good to go?”

You nod. You don’t tell him that honestly, he’s all you need to face the rest of the world.

It doesn’t make it any less true.

You don’t like weddings. You know, shocker, considering how sociable of a person you are, but seriously, the more weddings you go to, the less you enjoy them. It’s not that you don’t love your friends and don’t want to see them happy, because you do, and they’re the only reason you put yourself through that. You guess you’re put off by how many people there are, and how big it all is. Hyejin’s a bridesmaid here, so you heard a lot about the planning, and it sounds like something straight out of your worst nightmares. It’s simply not for you.

Hoseok puts his hand on the small of your back, palm open, and it immediately ground you, calms the anxiety that had been bubbling inside you. Your anxiety is such an old companion when you’re in a public setting that it’s almost weird to feel it disappear. It’s not like Hoseok is a magical way of making it go away, it doesn’t always work, but it definitely helps. Just another one of the many perks of being with him.

“Everything okay?” he asks gently, and your heart explodes with the love you feel for him.

Without thinking, you push yourself up to kiss him. It’s a chaste kiss, appropriate for the situation, but Hoseok closes his eyes, loses himself in it. When he opens them, he looks a little surprised, like he always does when you’re the one to initiate a kiss.

“Everything’s fine,” you say.

His eyes glide to stare at something behind you, and you turn around before he can stop you.

There, of course, are Minsu and his girlfriend. It looks like it’s working well between the two of them.

You can’t say this doesn’t make you feel anything. That would be a lie. You don’t think you can forgive Minsu, don’t think you want to, and you certainly don’t want to be his friend, or even to talk to him, but you’re not angry anymore. If he did come over, you’d probably handle it better than you did last time. Hyejin might not, though, and judging by the way Hoseok tenses next to you, he might not either.

But instead of walking over and throwing a glass of wine at Minsu’s stupid face, Hoseok wraps an arm around you and you put your head on his shoulder.

You definitely like that better.

“They—” He clears his throat. “Your friends told me they thought he was the love of your life.” You snort at that. “That you guys had so much in common, and that they didn’t know how you’d ever find someone you were as compatible with.”

It’s so strange to you that Hoseok is the one who has insecurities about your relationship. As if he let you any choice but to be completely and utterly taken in by him.

You put his hand over his, which is spread over your stomach.

“They were wrong. He’s happy without me,” you tell him quietly. “and I’m definitely happy without him.”

At some point, maybe Minsu was the love of your life. When you were sixteen and you thought you would never love anyone else, or when you were twenty and moving in together, or even when you were twenty-four, the day before he shattered your heart.

But he isn’t anymore, and you can’t even imagine what your life would be if you had stayed with him, can’t imagine what your future would have been like. Can’t imagine your life without Hoseok.

“I love you, Hoseok,” you say, and he takes in a deep breath. “I don’t care how compatible I was with him— clearly, it didn’t change anything in the end. You’re the only one I want.”

“We’re not very compatible,” he comments.

“That’s true.”

“Your schedule is the absolute worst.”

“I think it’s fine.”

“You like horror movies.”

“Horror movies are great, but I promise I won’t make you watch them.”

“You refuse to ask the landlord to break down a wall between our apartments.”

“That is objectively a terrible idea.”

“Then we should find a place where we can live together.”

That quiets you for a few seconds as you think about it, before turning towards him. Hoseok has a cautious look on his face, but hope is shining in his eyes. No matter how scared he is, he is always willing to try. That’s only one of the many things you love about him, but that’s exactly what gets you right now.

“We should,” you say.

Minsu disappears from your mind, goes back to the oblivion where he belongs, and you only focus on the present, on the man you have in front of you.

“I love you,” he says before kissing you, and in that moment, everything feels perfect.

As long as Hoseok is by your side, you know you can take on anything.

#hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts #bts imagine #bts x reader #jung hoseok x reader #hoseok imagine #hoseok fluff #hoseok smut #bts fic #hoseok fanfic #candywrites

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laketaj24 · 3 years

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Serotonin II

Author’s Note: Here it is! I am taking requests, and the taglist is open, drop your name under this fic or on this list if you are interested! This does have a prior part but can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: Colson Baker x Reader

Warning: Smut, breeding kink

Inspo Song: Bad Things

Part I

My MASTERLIST

Colson: Busy?

Y/N: Why would I be busy?

Colson: For sure ain’t been answering my texts 🥱

Y/N: You need something, Col?

Colson: You know you only call me Col when you’re half asleep or whimpering my name when you about to cum. Let me come over.

Tongue-tied, his messages left you baffled. They were a smooth variation of sexting mixed with pleading. Every message included a very Colson apology but a rebuttal that followed and reminded you why you couldn’t fall back in the same routine with him. It was easy to picture yourself back with him, nestled against his lean frame - listening to his voice as it rumbled against his chest as he rambled on. You saw it clear as day, but the truth of the matter was he didn’t do what you required to have you back in his life. Fucking you in the bathroom of some club like a whore, giving your body a fix, but your heart and mind still felt that hesitation when it came to Mr. Baker.

“Are you listening?” Dana asked, holding up the soy powder milk for your nephew.

“I heard you clear as day.”

“You sure you didn’t just daydream the entire I talked about not feeding Jaylen after seven?” Dana placed the soy milk on the table and glanced down at her newborn. “If you’re not up to it, I can stay. I hate going out of town so soon after having him.” She tapped her soon on the back a few times and exhaled.

“We will be fine.”

“You say this, but I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“You’re head has been shot ever since you broke up with the delinquent.” She rolled her eyes. “And what pisses me off is Tyla loves him!” She whispered and turned her attention to the seven-year-old parked in front of the tv. “I mean worships him.”

“I know. Colson is good with kids.”

“Because he’s childish.” She added. “He’s basically a six variant of one.”

“You can’t say one thing nice?”

“His music isn’t shitty,” Dana added. “I will be back at eight for the both of them, and I swear not to do this again, just my boss needs me, and their dad is busy.” She lied. “So- I love you, sis. Call Eric!” Dana kissed your cheek and sprinted out the door without another word.

Eric, you hadn’t seen him since you left the club a week ago, and you barely responded to his texts. The ride home was awkward; the entire time, he talked about how much he enjoyed the night. And the only thing you could think about was getting bent over in the bathroom by your ex. Good date.

Auntie duty had started. Diapers, Tiktok, YouTube, and some weird pig cartoon lay ahead of you for the next nine hours. Jaylen slept peacefully in his playpen, unbothered by his mother's lack while Tyla consumed her tv.

Colson: I got food open the door.

Y/N: What door?

Colson: Your apartment door. It’s Chipotle.

Fuck, you were hungry.

Y/N: Leave the food on the porch.

Colson: I’m not a god damn door dash.

The abrupt knocking startled Jaylen, soo you took him in your arms and walked to the door, “Stay in the living room Tyla.”

“K,” She answered, not even looking up from her phone.

You opened the door revealing Colson in his pink hoodie and gray joggers. He held bags of food in his hand and garnished a big smile on his face, “You look good with a baby.”

“Why are you here?”

“You wouldn’t come to see me or invite me over, so invited myself over. Can I come in?”

“No.” Jaylen stirred in your arms, his plump little legs kicked, and you sighed. “I am busy today. That’s why I didn’t invite you over. I have to keep my nieces and nephews, and every time you are over here, you either curse too much or we end up fucking.”

“Watch your mouth.” He teased.

“How were you texting with all that in your hands?” You stared at him.

“You know I got talented hands.”

“Colson!”

Why? You grimaced inwardly before looking at your overly excited niece, she loved Colson, and you hated to admit, he might be an asshole sometimes, but he loved kids. He was a wonder with them. You slapped your face, disappointed there was not a way to hide the massive man at your door. “He can’t stay.” You answered before the question left your lips.

“Why? Please!” Tyla pouted her pink lips and threw her arms up in defeat. “We never see him anymore.”

“That’s your aunt’s fault,” Colson added fuel to the fire. “I won’t stay long.” He pushed through, entering your apartment to greet Tyla with a hug at her level and a sly wink to you. Kids were the way to your heart – and his, but he would not win you over with this bullshit today. Not at all. “You hungry, Tyla?”

“Yeah, ten minutes, and you’re out.”

“Damn.”

“Tiktok?’ she held up her phone and the ring light from her purple book bag. “Please.”

“Word, what are we learning?” He raised his brows to you and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the couch; she was ecstatic, immediately standing to do a dance and drag you over to learn it too. Tiktok had become the bane of your existence, but for Tyla and her half a million followers, she was golden.

One hour later and you were tired, you’d perfected the dance, and Colson had convinced her to let him skip the dancing and just be—it was all he had to do though, she’d get one million views just because of who he was, and now everyone would know you were with him. Your heart dropped a little thinking about the exposure while she edited the video next to both of you.

“Why is Uncle Colson never around?” Tyla never looked up from her phone; she just continued her mission of posting that sixty-second video and ruining your life.

“He’s not your uncle.” You corrected.

“That’s your aunt’s fault too.” He added.

“Don’t start with me.” The harsh whisper came out as a warning, waking baby Jaylen from his nap and making Colson chuckle in amusement.

“I like him; I want him in the family.”

“I want a million dollars.”

“I can give you that.” He said.

“And a loyal boyfriend who doesn’t text insta-sluts in his spare time.”

“Don’t use sluts in front of her damn; your mouth is outrageous Y/N.”

The narrowing of your eyes made him burst into laughter again. He was damn good at annoying you like he had it mastered.

The day passed quickly with him making eyes at you, caring for Jaylen while she styled Colson’s hair in four ponytails atop his head, garnished with bows, and she even attempted to give him edges. He didn’t care; as long as she was happy, he was good.

“You look a mess.”

“It’s cool.” Colson snapped a picture. “Been waiting forever to see if ponytail was for me or not; it’s a no.” He sat back on the couch while Tyla disappeared to your room for god knows what else. “You look good with babies, you know?”

“You’ve said that.”

“I meant it; you’re good with them too.” He sighed. “I thought about kids with us, like every damn day.”

“Funny.” You shrugged, and she appeared with your bright pink polish. “What’re you doing, Tyla?”

“Painting his nails.” She plopped down in front of him, and without hesitation, he held his hand out for her. “We did blue last time.”

“Yep.” He exhaled. “Don’t you want this?”

He didn’t have to elaborate; you knew what he was talking about, but a family was the last thing from your mind, no matter how perfect the scenario looked right now. “Do you?”

Colson smacked his lips. “We can talk later.”

“You leaving when they do.” You reiterated.

The door opened thirty minutes later without a knock or doorbell; Dana never announced herself. “I see he found his way back in.” Her mouth dropped as soon as her eyes met him. “Tyla just had her way today, didn’t she.” She laughed. “Oh god, she gave this man braids.”

“Your daughter is talented.” He laughed. “Might be a new look.”

“Ridiculous.” She held her laughter. “Ty, get up and come on, love; we have a long drive.” She took Jaylen from your chest and gave you a look. “How long is he staying?”

“Not long, sis, drive safe.”

“I will. Colson, you leave in ten minutes, or I’m sending our brother over.” She pointed to him.

“I’m not scared of Michael; send him.” Why did his arrogance only make you want him more? He looked to Dana, who, like him, was not bothered.

“I hate him.” She mumbled as she left. “I just fucking hate him.”

“It’s mutual!” Colson laughed as the door shut. “You’re gonna stay over there the whole time?”

“Aint no reason for me to be over there for real.” You thought of three reasons to stay where you were, the drop in his voice, the tension in this room that could be cut with a knife, and when he was alone with you, your willpower was nonexistent. “You have five minutes.”

“We aren’t going to talk about this, are we? You like being evasive and shit? That you’re new persona?”

“I have no new persona. This is me not playing into all the bullshit you bring when you’re with me. This is a wall.”

“I’m about to knock that wall over.” He smirked.

“Stay on your couch.” You warned.

Colson held his hands up, acting defenseless, “I wasn’t moving from this spot.”

“My sister hates you, you know that? She literally said that I would be better off leaving Cali before staying here with your toxic ass.” You found yourself pointing at him and wanting to knock that smile from his face. Colson liked to see you get feisty with him; he called that foreplay, and here you were dancing to the beat of his drum, pissed.

“How am I toxic? I stopped all that shit for you, every ounce of it.”

“Stop lying.”

Colson grinned at you, unwavering in his position and impressed that you were persistent in yours; your usual fights lasted about one day. You’d take him back, and everything went back to how it was before, but that changed nothing; you wanted him to change. “I am not lying to you. Come here.”

You walked over to him, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you down in his lap. Facing him, you admired all the little cuts he’d earned over the years in senseless fights or accidents. Your fingers traced over them before you cupped his face. What the fuck were you doing? Why were the two of you akin to magnets? Drawing one another in half of the time and then at the flip of a side hating one another? You placed your lips on him, parting his lips with your tongue and then flicking playfully over his teeth before he caught your bottom lip with his teeth and tugged. The slight pressure made you moan against him. He cradled your neck with one hand, not allowing you to escape him. Colson deepened the kiss, adding pressure and taking what little breath you had away. “I fucking miss you, Y/N.” He rasped.

"Don't talk.”You murmured back.

Colson didn’t listen; he never listened. “You were good with them today.”

You growled, grinding your hips on him. “Shut up, Colson.”

“I want to talk to you, I want you back Y/N, shit. Like I am trying, I canceled recording sessions, appearances, and other shit all this month so we can figure this out. I don’t want to-,”

You stopped him from talking, gripping his cock through the sweats with one hand and kissing him to shut up.

“Stop.” In one fluid motion, your hands were by your side, and your eyes were on his, “We’re talking; I was not fucking other women. But I was entertaining them, and it’s no excuse. I know you’re hurt; I’m sorry. Like real talk, no joke – I apologize.”

“How do I know it won’t happen again?’

“I'll delete all this shit for you,” He admitted. “Fuck a platform.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m dead ass right now. Fuck it all. I just want you.”

“If it happens again, I am never taking you back, ever.”

“It won’t.” He whispered, loosening the grip on your hands.

You took advantage of the notion, moving your hand down to his cock, rubbing the hilt through his sweats again.

“Nah,” He gripped your hair, pulling you back, so your eyes met him. “It’s my turn now.” He pushed aside your shorts in seconds, and his fingers plunged into your pussy, curling for a moment and then spinning out of you. He placed his fingers on your lips, “Open up.” You didn’t hesitate to take his fingers, licking your own juices from them, and he tapped your face sending a slight pleasurable sting. “How you taste?”

“Ready.” You pulled him from the sweats feeling him jump at your cool hands, and stood up, wriggling out of the shorts before hovering back over him again.

Colson playfully tosses you on your couch, draping one leg to the ground. “Let me taste.” He whispered as he descended between your legs. Colson’s fingers brushed your swollen clit, before his lips latched on, sucking. You bowed from the couch, the moans and scratched to his shoulders done nothing but encourage. He lapped up your juices before diving his tongue into you and swirling around. You gasped, surprised and pleased as he worked.

“Col-“ You gripped his shoulders, lifting yourself from laying down, and he took full advantage, pulling you onto his face and fucking you with his tongue. Your body coiled, the jolts of pleasure popped around your body, and then you came. The white-hot energy surged through your body, and you panted, shaking, almost collapsing back on the couch. He caught you peppering the wet kisses from your pussy to your mouth.

“You good?”

“Better than.” You whispered, breathing heavily. “ Shit.”

“We’re not done.” Of course, you weren’t; his cock throbbed against his leg, waiting to ruin your life, and here you were still out of breath. Colson gently pulled you from the couch, sitting you in his lap, and he started once again with the kisses. You could taste yourself on his lips, and for some reason, that just made you wetter for him. He took advantage of stroking himself before he lowered you down on him. You took every inch, mouth slightly open and hair swinging the entire time. You pressed your breast against his chest, savoring the warm feeling of his cock inside of you, and then you started moving on him. Your muscles clenched around, gripping him with each stroke. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone; you took that added pleasure in stride biting your lip as it intensified every time your skin met.

Colson’s eyes were hooked on you, his fingers dug in your ass, guiding you up and down on his cock, urging you to keep going, and there was no way in hell you were going to stop. You could feel it building once again, this time bigger. “Hold it.” He whispered, knowing you were about once more. “Not yet.”

“Ah,” Impatience grew over you; you slowed your ride, winding your hips slowly, your eyes closed as you took over, fucking up into you, guiding your body to take more. “I can’t.” You whined as you fought to hold the orgasm back.

“Yeah, you can.” He slammed into you harder, knocking the breath from you, your toes curled, and you screamed as you shook against him. “I wanna feel that pussy shake around me when I cum; hold it.” He slapped your clit with three fingers, and your breath hitched. “Hold it.” His hand travels up your shirt to your bare stomach, and he kisses you once more. “Y/N.” His hips rocked slowly, but then he started to fuck you quicker, the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot each time. You were a screaming mess, biting down on his shoulder. That done the trick he spasms against you growling. His warm cum triggered you. You came, sinking down and taking all of it. “Shit, you cheated.”

“You would’ve lasted forever.” You smiled lazily.

“Is that a complaint or a compliment?”

“Both.”

You wince, sliding off him, “right.” He rolled his eyes. “Now we gotta eat reheated Chipotle.” he stood up, fixing his pants. “Can I stay?”

“I guess.” You pulled the blanket over you, snuggling into your favorite place on the couch. He heads into the kitchen, and you reach for your phone, wondering what threat your sister had for you.

Meg: Are you still coming tonight?

This was not your phone; of course, it wasn’t. You unlocked the phone, clicking her name to look at the messages. But there is only red as Colson makes his way back into the living room. You throw the phone across the room, hitting the wall, and he stares at you. “What the fuck?”

“Take you and that Chipotle and get out.”

“Damn, what the Chipotle do?”

A/N: One more part coming. I’ll drop it next week, I think! Thank yall for reading! Let me know what you think!!

Taglist: @taytayize123 @ctrlszn @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee @strawberry-skyes @mauvecherie @savageiz @bang-kim-bap @luci-her @littlelovebug98 @babyboy-cody @hellshedevil @daddyavesxx @crystalbaby12 @jeonsblackgf

commenters from serotnin who might be interested: @mgkmerchstyles @mayaslifeinabox

#laketa j writes #colson baker x black reader #colson baker fics #colson baker x reader #colson baker #mgk #machine gun kelly x black reader #machine gun Kelly

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ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

the art of eating pussy (5)

summary: upon realizing you lack skills in the bedroom when a touron asks you out on a date, you turn to jj, a self-proclaimed sexual deviant, for help.

warnings: smut, y’all.

notes: i haven’t been in the right headspace to right recently and wanted to give my reads something of quality and substance, not something to rush just for satisfaction. behold, chapter five.

co-authored and co-written with @storiesbymads. SHOW MY WIFE SOME LOVE.

add yourself to my taglist + series masterlist

JJ’s hung up.

You’d been spending less time at the Chateau in favor of spending time with Trent since it was the last week that he’d be on the island. His mind was racing, conflicted with the thoughts of your mouth on Trent and his lips on your neck. The night of the party had been the worst moment of the week and his jaw hurt from clenching by the time he ended up crashing out on John B’s couch. JJ always drank to forget and that night wasn’t an exception.

He knew it wasn’t just about sex with you anymore. It wasn’t about the opportunity for him to get off by the hand of someone else. It wasn’t about him taking advantage of you. There was nothing complicated about the two of you in the bedroom.

But outside of the bedroom, JJ’s head was spinning every time you said goodbye or forced him out the door because your parents were home. He didn’t have to think when he was with you; JJ knew what you wanted and knew what to expect. He knew that his time alone with you was the product of these lessons but that didn’t mean he had to think of this time as anything but passionate. When his tongue wasn’t down your throat, he was thinking about the tight feeling in his chest that left him wondering what was going to happen once you told him it was over because he didn’t want this to end.

JJ hadn’t thought about the lessons ending until he saw you tucked underneath Trent’s arm at the party. This whole situation wasn’t friends with benefits and he knew it, which is why it messed with his head so much. Yes, there was the whole “no strings attached” ordeal, but this wasn’t just one of you calling the other for sex. This was much more complicated. You were one of JJ’s best friends but the only difference is you’d seen him naked, intentionally.

His thoughts are preoccupied with the idea that once the lessons end, you might still be with Trent despite him no longer being on the island. JJ would have to go back to being just friends and he’d have to pretend that he never saw you naked. He’d have to pretend he didn’t revel in the thought of you trembling beneath him. The other Pogues, to his knowledge, had no idea that the both of you were fooling around and he didn’t know if it was something he wanted to disclose. On one hand, he wanted a second opinion on whether or not this was something healthy. On the other hand, he knew what they would say; that JJ didn’t care about catching feelings and it was unlikely that he would consider succumbing to being a boyfriend. He knew he’d expressed his disdain for relationships in the past, but now he wasn’t so sure.

You ended up skipping out on the last two beach sessions in favor of Trent. Pope had decided to stay behind on the sand with JJ while Sarah, Kiara, and John B. enjoyed themselves under the warmth of the sun and the contrasting coolness of the ocean waves. Pope could sense something was amiss when JJ was the first to propose having a relaxing afternoon and hadn’t shown up with his surfboard tucked underneath his arm.

“Something’s up,” Pope stated. “Something’s been up for a while and I didn’t want to say anything about it until I knew for sure, but something’s definitely up.” JJ shook his head.

“It’s nothing.” Pope nudged JJ with his shoulder.

“C’mon, man. You don’t want to surf, your mind is a million miles from where you are, and not to mention, this entire week you’ve been moody.”

“I’m not moody,” JJ muttered with a scowl, flicking at a clump of sand near his foot. Pope’s mouth formed a knowing smile. JJ sighed. “Okay, I’ve been moody.”

“What’s up? Is it your dad again?”

“No,” JJ replied softly. “I just think life is bullshit.”

“We all think life is bullshit.”

“Feelings are bullshit.” Pope’s ears perked with interest.

“Feelings?” JJ looked at Pope before looking back at the view in front of him, watching as Kiara had playfully splashed Sarah with ocean water. He wished he could feel that carefree.

“They suck,” he began. “I think it’s stupid that people are allowed to feel something for people and not know if they feel the same.”

“Are you talking about someone?” JJ paused.

“No,” he replied.

“Okay...” Pope trailed off. JJ sighed once more.

“What I’m trying to say, is, I wish we weren’t cursed with not knowing where the lines are blurred and I wish we could all say how we feel without consequence.”

Pope sensed that JJ was trying to speak metaphorically and project his emotions on a secondary situation. He nodded, trying to follow the blond’s train of thought. He pursed his lips as JJ spoke and wanted to understand what he was saying to the fullest extent, but the boy decided to let JJ talk.

“Have you ever thought about getting off this island?” JJ asked after a few moments of silence.

“What kind of question is that?” Pope asked, laughing. “Of course I do.”

“But really,” said JJ. “Not just getting off and seeing what it’s like. I mean, like, what you’re gonna be doing in twenty years and the people who are going to be in your life.”

“Sometimes,” Pope replied with a casual shrug. “I try to take things one day at a time. I never want to overwhelm myself.”

“Lucky you,” JJ muttered. “I see myself off of this stupid fucking island by the time I’m thirty. I don’t want to live in a place where I feel trapped and can’t say what I want to fucking say.”

“I want to be able to forget about the Kooks,” Pope chimed in. JJ nodded. “I kinda want to live in San Francisco.”

“I’d probably live in Europe or something,” JJ said. “Don’t know where but I’d want to experience life as far away from North Carolina as possible.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Pope asked. He knew he wasn’t.

“Yeah, man,” JJ replied. “Just got a lot of things on my mind.”

The idea of fooling around with anyone that wasn’t you hadn’t crossed JJ’s mind. He’d been to Boneyard keggers since the lessons began but the notion of flirting and bringing a girl back to the Chateau was way off his radar. The Pogues didn’t take much notice but JJ wondered if they knew something was amiss or if they’d say something about it if they did. If he was able to realize he hadn’t slept with anyone since he began “teaching” you, then they might have. JJ knew their worlds didn’t revolve around him, and the boy was still as goofy and troublesome as ever, but there was a seeded doubt that made him awkward whenever he was around his friends if you happened to be there.

It wasn’t that his stomach felt queasy or that his heart was racing. He’d be lying to himself if he admitted that. His head was clear when it came to how he felt about you and he wouldn’t hesitate rushing to your house if you called him for another lesson or if you just wanted to kick back with him in your room and jam out to vinyls you pulled out whenever you felt nostalgic. Before, he would never have considered approaching your side of the island but now he didn’t feel as small as he did when he didn’t have a reason to be there. Your parents were familiar with your friends and didn’t mind JJ stopping by, which gave him more of an incentive to visit you when he had had enough of the Chateau and his friends’ loud personalities.

JJ knew his head was clear when it came to how he was feeling. The only part that clouded his judgement was Trent and dealing with the different friendship he’d have with you. He was sure that if the Touron wasn’t in the picture, things would be much easier for him. Trent’s dark and slick hair reminded him of greed and filth. His boisterous personality reminded JJ of everything he never wanted to be and he couldn’t understand why you’d pay attention to him for longer than a quick glance. The Touron was casually cool, the type of person who wanted to say they were able to rub elbows with the socialites of New York City by posting it on his social media accounts. You, on the other hand, were down to earth and courageous about your future potential. He couldn’t fathom why you were so attracted to someone who was your opposite.

Your head had been spinning too. Trent was the perfect gentleman and he hadn’t given you a reason to not trust him. And yet, every moment you spent with him reminded you that you weren’t spending it with JJ. You couldn’t understand why you’d been thinking about his shaggy hair when he wakes up or the way his eyes squint when he laughs a little too hard. Trent was giving you his full and undivided attention, and you always felt guilty when you needed to force yourself back into reality because you had been zoning out, daydreaming of being anywhere else.

But JJ never seemed to be anything other than friendly with you. You opted to disregard how he acted during the lessons, summing that up to pent up sexual frustration and a genuine interest to help you out after years of teasing you. You weren’t completely naive; you knew this was a way for JJ to get himself off, much like it was for you. The only difference between JJ taking advantage of you versus not was the fact that you wanted him to teach you how to make others feel good and how to make yourself feel like a goddess in the bedroom. You weren’t exactly sure why there had been a lack of awkwardness between the both of you despite him being your best friend since birth. There was never a question of doubt from JJ when you asked him to help you learn. There was no laughing when you admitted your lack of knowledge. Perhaps that’s why your initial doubt disappeared the first time he asked you to kiss him.

Trent had apologized for the beach date when he’d gotten startled by strangers parking next to him and promised you he’d make it up to you. He came through on his promise after you got worked up before your dinner date. You arrived at the hotel he was staying at while his father attended an event on the other side of Figure Eight and his hand glided up the side of your dress. Trent wasn’t rough nor was he gentle; he was giving you what you thought you wanted but it didn’t feel as skilled or as tender as when JJ’s fingers were inside of you. With JJ, your orgasm approached as if JJ already knew everything there was to know but Trent took his sweet time making you cum.

You always cursed yourself for letting your mind wander innocuously to JJ when Trent’s lips were on your neck or when his fingers were toying with the hem of your clothing. There wasn’t much going on between you and Trent, sexually, despite him wanting to take it further. You were lucky enough that Trent verbally expressed his willingness to wait, but you wondered if that wait time had an expiration date. You wanted to make sure if it felt right before you were able to deliver on a promise. You knew that your lessons with the blond would come to an end the moment you two had gone all the way, or until you were ready to experience sex without JJ, and you always moved that thought to the back of your mind to avoid thinking about it.

By now, you felt guilty for spending the majority of this week with Trent. Kiara had texted you a few times but understood wanting to spend time with him until he left. As far as you could tell, neither John B. nor Pope cared too much because they were happy their youngest friend was happy with someone. JJ, on the other hand, you couldn’t read. You didn’t understand why it was so difficult for you to reach out to him first or comprehend him, which you were usually good at. Suddenly, you were overthinking the way he talked to you and if he chose to sit next to you or someone else. You were overthinking his lingering gaze either on your thighs or some girl who walked past him with a weird knot in the pit of your stomach.

You kept telling yourself none of that mattered because you had Trent and you were sure you knew how you felt. Trent treated you right, was willing to wait, and never made you feel second best for not being as sexually promiscuous as he was. Yet something was lacking and you couldn’t figure out what it was.

You tried not to think about it on your way to the Chateau. The screen door slammed shut as you walked into the living room to try and save yourself from the downpour of rain. After Trent had dropped you off when his father had called him during the middle of a movie marathon, you opted to see the Pogues and spend some time with them once you realized how many times you had declined their offer to hang out. You saw JJ already sprawled out on the couch, seemingly all by himself.

“John B’s out with Sarah,” he said casually, pushing himself up onto his elbows to give you some room to sit down. You nodded a thank you, crossing your arms over your wet torso in an attempt to warm your shivering body as you sat down. Glancing down at your chest, you silently swore as you noticed your red bra was, in fact, very visible under your white shirt.

“Nice bra,” he chuckled, trying not to ogle too long. JJ hoped his comment didn’t make you feel awkward; he was having a hard time talking to you because he didn’t exactly know where he stood with you.

“Shut up,” you mumbled but you couldn’t help the heat that rose to your cheeks.

“So…” JJ trailed off. “How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“I’ve been good,” you nodded.

“And Trent?” he asked, attempting, and majorly failing, to hide the venom that laced his tongue. You mistook this as annoyance.

“Good,” you said, not wanting to talk about him anymore. JJ cleared his throat, his teeth grinding as he clenched his jaw, as he shifted on the couch so that he was sitting upright and facing you.

“You've been putting my lessons to good use?” he asked. He didn’t know why he’d asked. He had no desire to hear about you with another guy.

“You could say that,” you said. Were you really putting them to good use if you weren’t enjoying yourself with Trent nearly as much as you had been with JJ? You couldn’t tell JJ that Trent’s hands on you just sent your mind spiraling back to him or when Trent’s lips were on yours, it reminded you of that first night you started the whole thing.

“Oh? Does he make you feel good?” he asked, moving closer to you. “Because it’s not worth it if you’re not getting something out of it, too.”

“Uh, well-”

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” he asked suddenly. He knew he was asking the question more for himself but he was desperate to have you again. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to show you how a real man treats his girl.

“What?” you were taken aback by the forwardness of his question. You watched as his eyes dilated, flicking back and forth from your lips to your chest.

“You know what I mean,” he said. “You need to be shown what it’s like to be taken care of.”

“But you already-”

“Just let me do this for you,” he snapped. “Please.”

“Okay,” you said before turning your body on the couch to face him. You hadn’t stopped shivering since entering the Chateau not too long ago and your goosebumps increased as you watched JJ move closer to you. He used his right hand to pry your knees apart, positioning himself between them. Your heart rate picked up as he leaned forward to press his lips against yours, the cold air hitting your wet skin when JJ pushed the soaked fabric of your t-shirt up so that it rested just under the hemline of your bra.

“Up,” he mumbled against your lips, the vibrations forcing a soft moan out of you as you broke the kiss to lift your arms above your head. You let out a small laugh when your shirt made a sloshing sound against the ground. It stopped as soon as it started, however, because you felt JJ start applying open-mouthed kisses along your collarbones.

Feeling his body pressed up against yours stirred up all the daydreams you’d had every time you’d gotten intimate with Trent. You’d been in this position before with him, but somehow it felt better without the pretense of a lesson. You were under the guise that this wasn’t just about teaching you what you liked and what you didn’t. Part of you wanted to believe that this was more than a lesson you’d acquire from JJ’s depth of knowledge. JJ’s kisses trailed lower and lower until his teeth started toying with the waistband of your shorts. The throbbing between your legs was growing steadily and you let out a sigh of relief when he finally dipped his fingers into the waistband and tugged the wet shorts down your legs with effort because of the rain, dropping them on the floor with your shirt.

“JJ,” you whimpered as he took his time moving down your body. He slipped his hands under your knees so that he could place them on his shoulders delicately before he laid out on the couch with his face centimeters away from your nearly bare pussy.

He let out a soft laugh in disbelief at how incredibly soaked you already were. It was practically coating your thighs at this point and your cunt was aching in anticipation for his touch. All JJ could think about is how you let another man see you from this point of view, which was enough to give rise to JJ’s ego. His mission was to make you feel so good that you’d think of him the next time Trent put his hands down your pants; he wanted you to remember this moment and know what it was like to be eaten out by someone who was determined to make you orgasm like a holy grail.

JJ’s jealousy didn’t cause him to act rashly and dominate the situation. He started by pressing fluttering kisses to the side of your knee, his eyes flickering up to see you watching him intently. JJ began by tenderly kissing the inside of your thighs, making comments about how soft you are and how you smelled so sweet. He does all he can to make you squirm underneath his touch, loving that your gaze didn’t leave him even if you tried. JJ pressed a kiss to the waistband of your underwear and you whimpered at the thought of him being so close to you in a way that was more intimate than before.

He chuckled when he heard you whimper again and moved his mouth to kiss along your clothed entrance. You knew JJ’s game all too well and you knew he’d take his time teasing you until you were begging for it. It took a while to come to this conclusion, but you figured out that you enjoyed the slow pace before the big finish. JJ had taught you that when you reached an orgasm, it was less about the other party getting off by getting you off. The point of your orgasm was to make you feel like a queen in the bedroom, not like a used toy to get someone else off.

So when JJ used the pad of his index finger to move your underwear aside and toy with your cunt, you didn’t bother begging for his mouth. Instead, you closed your eyes and relished in the feeling of his warm hands on you. JJ looked pleased at your reaction and wanted to make this moment last for as long as he could. His finger moved in slow circles before hitting a sensitive nerve that caused your hips to rise, to which JJ laughed and pinned you down in the cushions.

JJ pressed two delicate kisses on your entrance. His mouth was being coated in your slick and he licked his lips, closing his eyes to savor the way you tasted. His body inched forward in an attempt to be as close to you as possible before licking a stripe with his tongue pressed flat against you, causing you to let out a deep moan in satisfaction.

JJ’s tongue worked like magic, as if he already knew all of your weak spots and was discovering the different sounds you could make by his tongue. His hands were gripping your thighs and his eyes would look at his meal before back up at you, and you had taken the liberty to use your hands to tug on his hair when he had hit a pleasure point.

“That’s a good girl,” he whispered against you to himself, proud of how loud and unapologetic you were being. He swore that if the Pogues had walked in the door, he’d stop eating your pussy and show them how pretty you looked underneath him. But he knew they would all be at Kiara’s until the storm passed.

His motions were delicate until he recalled the thought of you and Trent together in bed. His tongue began to dart in and out of you at a faster speed with every increasing thought. Giving Trent a handjob. Trent stripping you out of your bra and underwear. His fingers inside of you. His tongue down your throat. His cock in your mouth. His cock in your - JJ’s - pussy. He knew he was irrational and wrong to think that last thought, but in this moment, your pussy was his for the taking and he was going to make your orgasm like your life depended on it.

JJ’s grip on your thighs became tighter and you felt locked underneath him. Your toes curled and your hips bucked at the pressure and pace at which JJ was eating you out. His head was moving like he was catching every last drop of your wetness before going back for some more. JJ had taken the liberty to lift his head and spit on your entrance before diving back in, his tongue so deep inside of you that you almost considered asking him to use his cock instead.

“JJ,” you muttered, tugging on his hair.

“Just cum, baby,” he urged. “I’m ready for you.”

You obliged and it didn’t take you that long to release. JJ lapped the white pearls that were spilling out of you and his eyes were rolling to the back of his head as he realized this was the first time he was seeing you, and tasting you, from this angle. JJ’s jaw was becoming sore but he paid no attention as your legs spread wider against the couch and your body moved to the rhythm of his tongue.

When you were coming down from your high, JJ couldn’t have imagined anything hotter than the sight and sound before him, but your fingers reached down to your aching core in oblivion and began toying with your clit as your breathing steadied. JJ watched in awe as your fingers moved in slow, delicate and circular motions, your bottom lip in between your teeth and your eyes shut. His mouth hung open at how totally, completely, and utterly fucked you were in this orgasmic haze and was pulled out of this fantasy when you tugged your hand away and reached for a tissue to clean yourself up.

JJ couldn't think of anything to say and neither could you. You settled on watching a movie in silence.

***

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#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank smut #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x reader #rudy pankow smut #obx x reader #obx imagines #obx #outer banks x reader #outer banks #*#study sessions #the art of eating pussy

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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 11

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,696

Warnings: Unprotected Sex (non explicit)

A/N: And finally... Just a word before, and it’s important, I wanted to put the explicit between two ‘*’ but I settled for one at the end because explicit means different things to different people. So whenever it starts to get too steamy for you, skip to the *. Thank you for reading, I appreciate your support!

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

Bucky moved behind the kitchen counter when he heard the door close. You and your guests were in the hallway where you took their coats and asked them to remove their shoes. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He had to stay calm, you depended on him tonight.

“It smells nice in here. What did y-”

Bucky straightened himself up and tried to keep a casual, friendly smile on his face as he came face-to-face with Okoye. He had seen enough pictures of your siblings to recognize them.

She looked surprised to find someone else there. He raised his hand and waved, and she frowned at him in confusion. The rest of the guests stopped short when they saw him waving like a dork. You pushed through them and came to his side.

“Guys, this is my friend, Bucky,” you said. “He’s the one who invited you.”

“Thanks for the invite. I hope you like wine,” Scott said, extending his hand as he walked over to Bucky.

“I sure do.”

Then he shook Wanda and Okoye’s hands, telling them how good it was to finally meet them. Your sisters introduced him to their partners, W’Kabi and Edwin who preferred to be called ‘Viz’.

You led them to the living room while Bucky prepared the drinks. W’Kabi decided to stay behind and help Bucky carry the drinks to the living room. He praised Bucky for having such a nice home.

The conversation seemed to flow easily between your siblings, though as Bucky arrived with your drink, he couldn’t help but notice that you were not participating. You took the glass from his hand, smiled then went back to staring at the coffee table. He sat next to you and rubbed soothing strokes on your arm before he reached for his drink.

Okoye was telling everyone that she had decided to return to New York after King T’Chaka’s passing. His son carried the mantle of the Black Panther, surrounding himself with his father’s Dora Milaje, but Okoye wanted to live closer to her own family.

She was a Dora Milaje, loyal to her king, but she was also a sister, loyal to her family. She felt like there were no good choices, and it ate away at her until her king found a solution to her problem. His little sister, Shuri, was starting her own business in the United States and needed her own bodyguards. Okoye accepted and W’Kabi followed her.

Scott didn’t share much. He showed everyone pictures of his little girl, Cassie, and said he was now working at Baskin-Robbins.

Wanda was evasive about her life and whereabouts. She told everyone that she’d been backpacking across Europe and met Viz, a wealthy businessman, on a beautiful sunny day in Berlin. They’d been attached at the hip ever since.

“And of course, you’re all invited to the wedding,” Wanda said while Okoye admired the ring. “It’s going to be a small wedding. I just need my family.”

“Excuse-me,” you said, standing up abruptly. “I think something’s burning.”

Bucky watched you disappear into the kitchen. He glanced at the group again, no one was paying attention so he followed you into the kitchen.

He found you leaning back against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest, staring into nothing. He walked over to you and pulled you into a one-armed hug that you accepted with a pleased sigh.

“I don’t think I can do this,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Is it a code ‘flamingo’?”

“No,” you chuckled, pulling away. You took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter again. “It’s just...”

You huffed, unable to find the words and grabbed him by the waist, seeking his warmth again. Bucky let out a surprised laugh as you squeezed him tightly. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed you against his chest.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “It’ll be over soon, angel.”

Bucky rocked you side to side in a slow, soothing rhythm until you were practically melting against him. He felt you take a deep breath, your nose buried in his chest. He didn’t want the moment to end, but you’d been gone for several minutes now, and the others would barge in the kitchen soon.

He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and gently pushed you away, his arm falling to your waist. You smoothed out the wrinkles you had made in his shirt without looking him in the eye.

He could tell you were thinking about something but before he could ask what was on your mind, you kissed the slight cleft in his chin and quickly moved away from him.

He smiled to himself, his heart beating a little faster.

You were transferring the dinner rolls from the pan to the basket when Scott poked his head into the kitchen. Bucky was still smiling to himself like a lovesick idiot.

“Everything okay?” Scott asked, taking a step closer to you. You turned to him and nodded. “It’s kinda weird, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Seeing each other again after all this time.” He leaned his forearm on the counter next to you and smelled the bread. “Baby Wanda’s getting married. Did you know they flew me first class? And the hotel is incredible. I feel like a prince.”

“Viz seems very nice.”

“I can’t believe Wanda backpacked through Europe,” Scott scoffed. “She hates camping.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Bucky watched as Scott leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me and for Cassie-” Bucky quietly left the two of you alone. It was a private conversation and he didn’t want to impose himself.

He finished setting the table, and soon everyone joined in. Bucky was sitting with his back to the kitchen, W’Kabi sitting next to him. You took a seat across from him, Wanda sitting next to you. Okoye sat next to Wanda, facing Scott, and Viz took a seat at the end of the table.

The food was good, and everyone complimented Bucky on his cooking skills. He said that you had helped him a lot, but you refused to take credit for chopping up a bunch of vegetables. You gushed about his cooking skills and his delicious recipes. It made them salivate just thinking about it.

“And your house is amazing,” Scott said with a dreamy look on his face. “A place like that...” he sighed, “that must have cost you an arm and a leg.” The whole room fell silent, and something that sounded like a foot hitting a shin made the table jump. “Ouch, why did yo- oh.”

Okoye was looking at him with the widest pair of eyes Bucky had ever seen. She looked furious and exasperated at the same time. The others stared at their plates as the uncomfortable silence grew.

Bucky glanced at you, not surprised to find you smirking. You knew he lived for moments like these, and you knew he already had the perfect comeback. As he watched you bit your lip, trying to contain a little giggle, he couldn’t help but love you even more.

“It was the original price but I’m a good negotiator,” Bucky said. “Only cost me an arm.”

W’Kabi was the first to laugh at his joke, then the whole table broke into fits of laughter. Scott looked equally amused and relieved.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“No problem,” Bucky cut him off.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Okoye said with a smile and a shake of her head. She turned to Bucky as everyone calmed down. “So, Bucky, strange name, uh? What do you do for a living?”

“My name is James, Bucky’s just a nickname.” He wiped his mouth and set the napkin down. “I’m a writer.”

“A pretty good one, judging by your apartment.”

“I’m all right.” He shrugged. “Literally.” Scott snickered at the joke.

“He’s too modest,” you said. “His books are best sellers. They’re autobiographical, he’s very sincere and honest and funny. He has a way of making you laugh about things that are pretty awful.”

“Yeah, we saw that,” Wanda said with a grin. “Are you working on anything at the moment?”

Bucky shifted a little in his seat. “Yeah, it’s uh,” he cleared his throat. “It’s a very important one. I don’t really want to talk about it. Don’t wanna jinx it.”

He wasn’t going to tell your family that he was writing a book about how he fell in love with you. That’d be pretty awkward.

“I understand,” Okoye nodded, then looked at you. “You’ve been really quiet tonight.” You shrugged. “I thought you were still living with Natasha. Do you still work at the hotel? Where is it again? Chelsea? That’s one hell of a commute from Brooklyn.”

“I wasn’t exactly living with Natasha,” you said. “I was crashing on her sofa. And no, I quit six months ago. I’m a full time artist now.”

“That’s great,” Scott said, raising his glass toward you in a silent toast. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not too bad. Bucky’s friend is a professional photographer. He helped me set up my website. The pictures he took are amazing. I sold a few pieces online but I’m struggling to find gallery representation.”

“Hey, as long as it pays the bills.”

“I don’t really have to worry about bills these days.”

“What do you mean?”

The room got quiet again, and Bucky could feel the tension in the air, buzzing like static electricity. All eyes were suddenly on you, waiting for an explanation. Bucky knew you were not going to lie to them. He locked eyes with you, and braced himself for impact.

You set your fork down and folded your hands in your lap.

“Well, Bucky and I have an arrangement.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Scott cut you off.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush and I’m not going to use pretty words to make it sounds more appealing,” you continued as if you hadn’t heard him. “He’s my sugar daddy.”

“You’re joking. Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope,” you replied smugly, popping the ‘p’.

A chorus of voices rose in protest. Okoye and Scott were shouting while the others kept glancing around wondering what had just happened. Wanda was strangely quiet next to you.

“Oh, shut up!” you shouted. “You left me alone. All of you. We were all grieving our brother but it doesn’t give you the right to fuck off when things get tough. Do you know how fucking terrifying it was when mom started to lose her memories? Or when the police drove her home at three in the morning after one of her spells? No, you don’t know because you weren’t there.”

Bucky had never seen you so upset before, and he didn’t quite know what to do but he felt like you needed to get it off your chest.

“I didn’t have friends or boyfriends. I went to class, then got home, hoping mom hadn’t set the house on fire. I took the first decent job I could find because she needed a new home and professional help. Without Natasha I would have been homeless.” You turned to Bucky. “I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined dinner. You’ve worked so hard.”

“It’s okay,” he replied immediately. “I’m with you.”

“God, you’re so nice,” you sighed, then turned to your siblings. “See? That’s the kind of person he is. I was lonely and lost, and I found him and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s kind and sweet, he’s selfless and generous, and you have no right to criticize our relationship.”

Bucky stared at you, his mouth hanging open a little. Slowly he shook himself out of his trance and reached for your hand on the table. He had no idea you thought so highly of him.

“We needed each other,” you continued. “And I don’t care what you think.”

Dinner was officially ruined but Bucky didn’t care. He smiled at you, soft and reassuring, and let go of your hand when you smiled back. He was proud of you for speaking up, for standing up for yourself.

Bucky noticed Wanda and Viz exchanging looks.

“Okay so, since we’re sharing truth bombs,” Wanda said, shifting a bit in her seat. “I wasn’t really traveling through Europe. I went to Sokovia and after that, everything’s kind of a blur. I did things I’m not proud of. I wanted to forget,” she paused and sighed, “everything. I hit rock bottom, pretty hard, and checked myself into a psychiatric hospital. That’s where I met Viz. He helped me send you those postcards. I screwed up, real bad, but I couldn’t tell you guys the truth. I’m not really proud of myself.”

“I got fired from Baskin-Robbins for yelling at a costumer.”

“Okay!” Okoye exclaimed in her big sister voice. “Enough truth bombs.” She pointed at you. “I’m sorry you had to do this alone, it wasn’t right but we’re here now and we won’t let you down. As for the sugar daddy thing... well you’re a grown woman, you can do whatever you want. Bucky seems like a nice guy.” She turned to Wanda. “We are all dealing with our pain in our own way. I’m not judging you. We’re here for you, Wanda.”

“I know,” Wanda said, sniffing.

“And Scott, stop yelling at people.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Bucky turned to W’Kabi and Viz who looked proud of their girls, albeit a little uncomfortable with the whole situation. Someone started chuckling, he couldn’t tell who it was, but suddenly the whole table broke into a fit of laughter.

“How about some dessert,” he said. “Then you guys can fill me in on some childhood secrets.”

As he walked away from the table, he heard you warn your siblings to keep their mouths shut. They laughed in response, which made Bucky smile. Surely it’d take more than one outburst at a family dinner to fix your broken bond but it was a good start.

During dessert, he learned that everyone called you ‘Splotchy’ because you painted on the living room walls as a child. He learned that you always wanted to play board games with Okoye. Your favourite one was Mystery Date.

“She had a crush on Tyler, the beach date.”

“No, that’s not true, don’t listen to them.”

When they finally left, you spent a few extra moments hugging everyone. Promises were made, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he watched you wave goodbye to your siblings.

It was just the two of you again, and the mountain of dirty dishes and silverware. He told you not to worry about the dishes, but you knew if he went to bed he wouldn't be able to sleep, not when the kitchen was such a mess so you cleaned together.

He loved these moments with you. There was something very peaceful about the night; the dark skies, the soft lights, the quiet apartment, knowing people all around town where getting ready for bed. It used to make him feel tiny and isolated but now, with you, the night didn’t seem so frightening anymore.

A few weeks went by, and things were changing a bit. You spent your Saturday mornings with your sisters, bonding, and facetimed with Scott at least once a week.

Bucky also noticed a subtle change in Sam’s behaviour. He seemed happier and he wondered if his friend had already forgotten Natasha.

It was almost June, and the building’s swimming pool reopened as the weather got warmer. Despite living there for several years, he had never gone near that swimming pool until you dragged him out one scorching afternoon.

The rooftop was surprisingly calm, apart for the group of children playing in the pool. There were people sunbathing around the pool, enjoying a good book, socializing. You dropped your bag on the floor and laid out your towel on the reclining chair.

Bucky had never seen you in a bathing suit before and it caught him completely off guard, but what made him literally growl was seeing the little pendant of your necklace rest against your skin. He didn’t know why but it awoke something in him.

You both slathered on sunscreen before you went for a swim. Bucky recognized a few neighbours, and while they all knew he only had one arm, they had never seen him shirtless before. Bucky didn’t mind their inquisitiveness, as long as you were beside him.

“Do you think the kids peed in the water?” you asked as you rested against the edge of the pool.

“Probably,” Bucky cringed. “When I was a kid, my mom told me that there were chemicals that turned the water a different color when someone pees.”

“Ew,” you laughed.

After a while, he lay out in the sun, enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin. He could still hear you playing water polo with the kids when a shadow passed over him. With a frown, he pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead.

“It’s nice to see you, James,” his neighbour beamed, taking a seat on your unoccupied chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out here.”

“Hi.” He wasn’t surprised when his voice came out hoarse since he had been on the verge of falling asleep. With the grace of a walrus, he propped himself into a sitting position. “Yes, well, swimming pools are more fun when you’re not alone.”

His neighbour turned to look at you. “Congratulations, by the way. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Must have been serious if you two moved in together. How long has it been since she moved in? Six months?”

“Seven.”

He knew he should have corrected her, you weren’t his girlfriend, but it felt good. It was just a harmless little lie.

“Does she make you happy?”

“I’m the happiest man on earth,” he replied with a bright smile, then slid his sunglasses back on his face.

His neighbour chuckled quietly. “I can see that!”

When you returned to your seat, his neighbour was gone. You hummed to yourself as you settled into your seat, big droplets of water running down your body. Bucky tilted his head down and peered at you over the top of his sunglasses.

“Where did you get that popsicle?”

“Jealous?” You licked your treat without looking at him. “The kids’ mom gave me one as a thank you for looking after her kids.”

“That looks good.”

“So good.”

“Mind sharing it with me?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully, then held out your popsicle. As Bucky leaned closer, you pulled it away and jumped to your feet. The look he gave you was one of pure betrayal.

“Oh, angel, you should have never done that.”

He grinned to himself when he saw a shiver run through you. When he stood up, you took a step back. He strutted toward you, his grin predatory. The floor was slippery so you couldn’t go very far.

“Are you ready to share now?”

“No!”

The popsicle melted down your hand, creating a mess. You turned your arm and licked the drops of popsicle juice from the inside of your wrist. It distracted you long enough for Bucky to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. You squealed and grabbed him around the neck to keep from falling while also trying not to smush the popsicle against his chest.

You waved the treat in front of his face and he tried to bite off the tip of your popsicle. It made you laugh, your body sagging against him. His face was close to yours. He was so close he could smell the artificial orange scent of your popsicle.

Your laughter died down and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you. Without thinking, he went for it. He felt your fingers flex against his skin, urging him closer.

His lips were barely a breath away from yours when one of the kids repeatedly slapped your thigh, obviously oblivious to what the two grownups were about to do.

“Come back! We haven’t finished the game,” the kid whined. “Come on!”

Reluctantly, you let go of Bucky and took a step back. Your exhale came out shaky, and in your almost-kiss-induced trance you handed him the popsicle without saying anything before you followed the kid.

You turned back to look at him, one hand sprawled across your stomach, the other across your chest. He knew you were feeling it too: the butterflies, the racing heartbeat, that pleasant heat going through your body.

The difference between like and love.

A week later, he came home to an empty apartment. He climbed the stairs to your studio but you weren’t there. Instead, he found a canvas stretched out smooth and tight on the floor, and several bowls of paint arranged in a semi-circle around it.

He knew you were home, you wouldn’t leave without your phone or bag. Out of curiosity, he went up on the roof and let out a relieved breath when he found you.

You were sitting on the edge of the rooftop with your knees up to your chin and your arms wrapped loosely around your shins. You looked so beautiful in the golden hue of the setting sun.

He stood there, watching you as if he was looking at a painting in a museum. Entranced. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and a quick glance around the roof told him you were alone.

Slowly, he made his way to you and took in your appearance: a short sleeve white shirt and a pair of denim overalls. The shirt was surprisingly spotless but the overalls were covered in dried paint splatters of different colours.

“I looked everywhere for you,” he spoke softly, trying not to disturb you.

“Did you?”

You straightened up a little but kept your eyes trained on the horizon. Bucky sat close to your feet and let his hand slip under the hem of your jeans to close around your ankle. A sigh slipped past your lips, and he let his fingertips linger for a moment on your smooth skin.

He knew you had a meeting today, and judging by the resigned look on your face, it didn’t go well.

“What’s on your mind, angel?” he said, caressing the top of your foot.

“I was thinking about the night we met. God, I was so nervous,” you said, laughing softly. “I told you that agreeing to meet you was like choosing between a pack of wolves and jumping off a cliff.”

“I remember,” he chuckled.

“I never told you how glad I am that I jumped off that cliff,” you said. “I’d never jumped head first into something, not knowing what was going to happen. Now I think I’m addicted to it. Before I met you, I was living for others. Everything single decision was thoroughly analysed. There was no mystery, fun, or impulsiveness. I put my entire life on hold, and now I see that I can’t do that anymore.”

“What are you going to do?”

You paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t know if I want to turn my passion into a career. Painting is my safe-place, and right now it’s giving me so much anxiety. I haven’t had the inspiration to paint in weeks.” You looked at him and pressed your lips together tightly. “And, if I don’t want to become a full time artist, then I guess our deal is off.”

Bucky stared at you, mouth agape. He really hadn’t seen it coming.

“Please, don’t be angry,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to stop seeing you. When he didn’t answer, you leaned forward and touched his face.

“I could never be angry with you, angel,” he said, kissing the inside of your palm. “I understand, and I’ll help you however I can.”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m still thinking about it.” You looked away from him and stared at the sky. “Do you know that feeling when you stand in a high place and you think about jumping? You don’t want to jump and you don’t do it, but there’s that urge.”

“I think I do.”

“It’s called ‘call of the void’. People say that it’s an affirmation of our will to live. That knowing we’re going to die one day makes us appreciate life even more.” You looked at him. “I want to jump but I can’t. I’m scared.” You lowered your voice. “I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“You’re scaring me a little. You can’t talk about jumping when we’re sitting on the edge of the roof.”

You chuckled under your breath. “It’s a metaphor.”

“Let’s go home. We’ll make dinner together, put on some music and pretend we’re in a movie.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to you. “Please.”

You took his hand and let him lead you to the staircase.

Once you were inside the apartment, he removed his shoes and you removed yours. Silence settled between the two of you as you entered the kitchen. Bucky moved behind the counter while you stood close to the dining table.

When he chanced a glance at you, he saw you staring into nothing while you played with the charm on your necklace, rolling it back and forth on its chain. You often did that when you were daydreaming.

Bucky walked over to you and placed his hand on top of yours, halting your movements. You let go of the pendant and held his hand instead. He ran his thumb soothingly over your fingers.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he spoke softly.

“If I say it, it’s going to change everything.”

He pressed your joined hands against his chest, over his heart. “No, it’ll make it real.”

He let go of your hand and cupped the side of your face. You leaned closer until you were only inches apart. His thumb traced your cheekbone, then moved to trace the outline of your bottom lip.

He let you come to him, let you take that first step, and when your lips brushed against his, he closed his eyes and sighed. He kissed your parted lips; once, twice, three times, tiny little kisses against your trembling lips.

His kiss grew bolder, turning into something so intimate, so passionate and intense that tears gathered in his eyes. He pressed his mouth more firmly against yours, his large hand still cupping the side of your face. His bad shoulder jutted forward as if his missing arm wanted to touch you.

He let out a groan, frustrated that he only had one hand to finally explore your skin. Sensing his inner turmoil, you held onto his bad shoulder and pulled him against you.

His tongue swept into your mouth, moving in a slow and deliberate rhythm. A growl escaped him and he deepened the kiss, tasting, sliding, retreating and entering again. He poured everything he had into the kiss.

“Bucky,” you moaned after your broke the kiss, breathless.

Hearing his name fall from your lips, your voice hoarse with desire, sparked something inside him. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip, feeling the softness and collecting the moisture that had gathered there.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, looking positively entranced. “My pretty angel.”

You pulled him in for another kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck, your slightly cold hands felt amazing against his heated skin. He pressed himself against you, letting you feel the rise and fall of his chest, the desperation in the jerky thrust of his hips.

He needed more but he wasn’t going to force you into anything. He was more than happy to stand here and kiss you for hours. He cupped the back of your neck and rubbed the sensitive skin behind your ear with his thumb.

“I’m yours,” he spoke against your lips, his eyes screwed shut.

You pulled back to look him in the eye, searching his face. He opened his eyes and you saw nothing but honesty in the depth of his eyes.

You untangled yourself from him and took his hand. Slowly, you took a step back, then another, his hand still in yours. His eyebrows lifted slightly when you bit your bottom lip and gave him a coy look.

He nearly growled again, the wolf inside him eager to touch you, feel you, claim you. He stood taller, his chest puffed out and breathing fast.

You led him up the stairs to the second floor and turned on the light in the corridor. You slowly made your way down the corridor with him behind you.

But instead of turning left towards his bedroom, you turned right into your studio, and it changed everything. Your studio was your sanctuary, your safe place, and knowing that you were about to bare your soul and body to him tamed his inner wolf.

You hesitated at the threshold of the room and glanced over your shoulder to look at him. Bucky squeezed your hand to encourage you.

“I bought some body paint on my way home,” you said, letting go of his hand to step into the room. “I wanted to try something different, something more personal. I wanted to use my body to express my emotions, to create something raw and messy. My interpretation of somatic art therapy.”

You moved around the darkened room; bent down to adjust the canvas on the floor and made sure the bowls of paint were still full.

“I sat there and thought of my mom and Pietro,” you continued, barefoot on the canvas. “I only feel sadness and anger, and I don’t want to create something that makes me feel sad. And I realized the only thing that keeps me inspired is hope.”

Turning to face him, you held your hand out, palm up, and his eyes widened at your silent request. Without thinking twice, he joined you on the canvas. It was both soft and scratchy under his feet.

Bucky watched as you unbuckled the right strap of your overalls and slipped the second strap off your shoulder. You tugged your jeans down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you in your underwear and white shirt.

Swallowing thickly, Bucky let his eyes travel up and down your body. He had seen you in your bathing suit before but this was different. Then he reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt over his head, baring his strong chest, hard abdomen and marred skin.

The room was dark; the pastel sky, visible from your studio thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, didn’t provide much light. The light was still on in the corridor, casting a faint golden glow over the room.

You took a step forward to examine his scars more carefully and Bucky took that opportunity to kiss you again, slowly, intimately. He peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck, then went down on his knees in front of you and continued his journey down your body, pressing soft kisses to your stomach.

He accidentally knocked over two bowls of paint; the dark colours spilled out onto the canvas, chasing each other. His kisses made you light up with desire, your moans music to his ears as your hands came down on the back of his head.

When it all became too much, you gently pushed him into a lying position and helped him out of his jeans. His belt buckle made a faint clink when you pulled it open, and Bucky swore out loud when you planted a wet open-mouthed kiss right below his navel.

In the back of his mind, he knew he wasn’t going to survive the night. He let his head fall back against the canvas and closed his eyes shut. Your talented mouth sent sharp jolts of pleasure through him, making it difficult to breathe.

He could feel the paint stick to his back, creating the shape of his upper body on the canvas. It was strangely exciting.

He moaned, arching his back, and slammed his fist down on the canvas. His fist landed in one of the bowls of paint. It splashed paint everywhere. He looked down at you and saw tiny flecks of paint splayed like freckles on one side of your face.

It made you both giggle. As he pushed himself up into a sitting position, Bucky left a print of his forearm on the canvas. You climbed into his lap, straddling him, then removed your shirt and bra. You wrapped your legs around him, one hand on his upper arm, the other hugging his neck.

Bucky was sitting on the canvas with his legs outstretched and slightly bent at the knees. He held you against his chest, rocking back and forth, his arm around the small of your back. You sighed together, sharing the same breath.

“You have the prettiest nose.” You let your index finger run down the length of his nose, your finger wet with paint. “So pretty.”

Laughing softly, he brushed his nose against yours and kissed you. He changed the angle of his thrusts, catching you by surprise.

“Does that feel good, angel?” he asked, lightly biting your jaw. You answered with a short cry. “Look at me.” You slowly opened your eyes, your movements faltered a little. “You’re so beautiful like this. You drive me crazy, y’know that?”

“Bucky,” you cried out.

He felt you shiver when he moved his hand from your back to your face. He cupped the side of your face and you immediately pressed yourself closer to him, craving the warmth of his touch.

He stopped your movements and looked you in the eye. “I’d do anything for you. Anything. You’re my one and only.”

He laid you down as gently and safely as he could, and once you were lying flat on your back, he sprawled between your thighs. He supported his weight on his forearm, careful not to crush you. Your hands slid up his sides, and as your thumb traced over his ribcage, a violent shiver went through his body.

He had never seen anything more beautiful than watching you come apart; your eyebrows furrowed, your lips parted in a silent ‘o’, the way your body shook in little spams. Absolutely stunning.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him and slowly caressed his back.

After he kissed his way down the side of your neck, he straightened himself up into a kneeling position and looked down at you. Your naked body was on display, covered in paint and glistening under the moonlight. He wished he could take a picture, immortalize this memory.

He helped you up, and after another passionate kiss he led you to his bathroom, the two of you leaving colourful footprints all over the clean floor.

The bathroom's bright fluorescent light was harsh and unforgiving as you looked at each other in the mirror. Yet you were both glowing, streaks and dots of paint covering your bodies. Bucky turned on the water and waited for it to get hot.

He wrapped his arm around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. “We look like we blew up a rainbow,” he said, smiling wide when it made you chuckle.

In the shower, you took turns washing each other, laughing and kissing until the water turned cold. You pushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled sweetly at him.

“We’re going to catch a cold if we stay here.”

“Mhh,” he replied, kissing your temple. “You’re right. There are clean towels on the shelf. Go, I’ll be right behind you, I still need to take care of my scar.”

“Can I help you?”

Asking for help wasn’t something he was comfortable with, especially after years of being babied by his ex-girlfriend, friends and family. After his accident, he couldn’t do anything on his own. He had to rely on others and it made him feel like a burden, like he was incapable of taking care of himself.

He knew it was all in his head but he couldn’t help it.

“It’s not exactly sexy,” he said.

“I don’t care. I want to help. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Patiently he guided you step by step through the process of cleaning his stump. You inspected his skin thoroughly, looking for irritation or any signs of infection, then washed it with a mild soap.

He had to admit that watching the woman he loved take such good care of his scar made his stomach fill with butterflies. You looked so focused, so attentive, that he could help but smile and try to kiss you.

“Bucky,” you complained, turning your head away, avoiding his kiss. “This is serious business, stop fooling around.”

He almost said it. I love you. But something was holding him back. He didn’t know what would happen next and it scared him. He didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, but he also realized that things were moving too fast.

“Okay, now you’re shivering,” he said, holding you close, trying to share his body heat with you. “Let’s get out of here.”

He wrapped you in a fluffy bathrobe and patted you dry. Then you carefully dried his scar and applied corticosteroid cream to his shoulder, massaging it gently into his skin. He slipped on his robe and you loosely tied the belt at his waist.

“We should talk about what just happened,” you said, playing with the belt. “What does it mean? What are we going to do? Can we-mph”

He cut you off with a kiss, long and hard and filled with passion. You smiled against his lips and finally pulled away.

“Is that how you’re going to shut me up from now on?” you asked with a grin.

“We’ll talk,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “But not tonight.”

“When then?”

“Tomorrow, I promise.”

You looked down at your hands on his belt and nodded. He tilted your head up and lowered his mouth to yours.

“Don’t avoid me tomorrow. Please.”

Your words felt like a knife in his heart, and it left him momentarily speechless. He took one of your hands and pressed it against his heart. “No matter what we decide to do, you’re my angel and I’m yours.”

You shared a long, silent hug before you both decided to call it a night. Once he saw the footprints in the corridor, Bucky felt the urge to clean them. He tried to resist but he knew if he didn't clean he wouldn't be able to sleep.

You understood –you always understood. That’s why he felt so comfortable with you.

Once it was clean, he joined you in the kitchen and made you breakfast for dinner, opening the cupboard and pulling out a couple boxes of cereal you didn’t even know he had.

He told you that he was keeping them for a special occasion. He remembered you telling him that it was your favourite meal as a kid, watching TV with your siblings every Sunday night, eating cereals.

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” you said, tears in your eyes.

The two of you sat on your bed, sharing random thoughts and spoonfuls of cereal. You giggled as milk dribbled down his chin and stained his robe. You wiped at the spot on his chin with your thumb and gave him a chaste kiss.

Your lips tasted sweet. Bucky pulled you in for another kiss, discarding the dirty dishes on your bedside table. You helped each other undress, then slid under the covers where you laid your head on Bucky’s chest.

“Bucky,” your voice cut through the quiet. “Do you mind-”

“Don’t worry, my angel, I’ll wait until you fall asleep.”

“Thank you.”

Part 12

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barnes imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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friendlystarfruit · 3 years

Text

I wrote fanfiction of Arataki Itto/Reader

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36506926?view_full_work=true

(contains smut) You are a cute waitress , I picture you as small but voluptuous, but PLEASE imagine her as you like, she could easily be a chubby reader or slim built reader but she is to be shorter than Itto. You have a crush on the egotistical himbo that is Arataki Itto and you don't do a good job of hiding it either , but Itto loves this , he hasn't asked you out yet , even know he wants to but that will be put to the test when he catches Childe flirting with you

Your character is playful , vulnerable and cute , you like that he is egotistical , manly but also playful , cute and kind, you are a bottom , he is a top.

If you just want smut skip to chapter 3. Also if you have suggestions on how I should continue go ahead and share with me!

Also sorry for spelling I’m dyslexic.

Chapter 1

: It's on

You are a cute waitress working at the local restaurant you have a crush on Itto.

You get a little jealous when Itto talks about his rival Kujou Sara,everyone makes jokes that they like each other more than rivals , but little do you know Itto actually has eyes only for you , the little curvy waitress that he catches peering down his abs and turning away and blushing, Itto has a massive ego he laps up every little clumsy lewd glance you try to catch without being caught , how you blush and play with your tail when you take his order, is overwhelmingly adorable to him and vigorously strokes his big Oni ego which leads to him vigorously stroking something else when he's alone thinking of you.

Itto is a big manly guy , but he is also playful and can be a bit of a doofus , but you find that cute, he’s very respectful and kind but he can get hot headed too, very competitive even with the kids he plays beetle battles with. You think it’s cute how he can act fun and child like but otherwise be all man and doesn’t let himself or those he cares about get pushed around.

What you didn’t know was there was another man who had been watching you , a proud strong man Childe, he was a mysterious man to you but you could see he was strong, handsome and proud , he lived for danger and was a very high ranking man , but you didn’t know this , if he hadn’t been so high ranking he would have made a move on you sooner.

One evening you were waiting tables and it happened both Cillde and Itto where at the restaurant , Itto was with his gang they where playing cards at the table , Itto was really getting into the game “hey ! it’s my turn” he snapped at his gang they laughed “sorry boss” Itto smiled “AH I’m in the lead now, it’s not a surprise” it was typical of him to get flustered over anything competitive even just a card game.

You approached the table of Itto , even know you where friends your true feelings for him made you awkward , especially at work. You walked over your plump breasts gently bouncing and your hips swishing with your tail. Itto saw you coming ?” “watch me take the order boi s “ “May I take your order I-itto "you fumbled. “Hi little sunshine , you happy to see a proud handsome Oni dine at this fine establishment “he’d wink , “oh yes Itto very proud , I mean , y-you know our establishment is “ Itto smirked with his arms crossed looking down thinking to himself “She just can’t help it” then his crimson sexual eyes meet yours making you blush and fumble with your tail you took his order and left “That’s how it's done bois “ Itto purred to his gang stretching his arms and puffing his chest , then he laughed proudly , it was amusing to him how you got on around him, you loved his laugh it was booming and egoistical and you adored that about it.

It was always this way as soon as you took his order and left he'd boost to his gang “This what makes my boi’s stick around eh? I’ve got all the tricks to make a cute girl melt” “Yes boss” this was a usual thing with him and the gang, “I mean I can’t really blame her , I’m a hero and a rebel all in one, not many like me but if you hang around me you’ll pick up some tricks “ was a common phrase they’d hear and “I saw her catch a peak at my abs bois ,your boy Itto gets the attention of the ladies am I right ? “his gang liked and respected him but sometimes they secretly where a little jealous how he made you melt. “Lets get back to the game, I’m winning right?” he sat relaxed and informal radiating great pride. Chilide on the other hand was more composed and serious he was dressed up talking with a few mysterious and stern looking men in suits. “Can I take your order sir” Childe turned around “yes I-uh” he got a little starstruck when he looked into your large feminine eyes” “I’ll have this here “ he pointed to the menu “Ah sir that is a good choice” “Why thank you miss “ he purred proudly excited by your friendliness “I must say you have a beautiful smile”

you blushed “oh ah sir thank you” his eyes met yours and he began to think to himself “Ahh that little vulnerable blush was so arousing why hadn’t I complimented her before? “ You where a little taken back , this handsome mysterious man , why hadn’t you noticed him more? He was proud and handsome and he liked your smile. You started to get butterflies.

Itto had been immersed in his game only now another much more serious competition was going to get his attention, his eyes slid over to the table far in front of him to see you nervously playing with your tail while Childe was muttering something with proud animalistic eyes. “WHAT WAS THIS” he thought to himself, “she only does that with me who is this guy? “

-a little steam escaped from his horns “Eh boss it’s your turn , and what’s wrong you are winning” Itto turned to his gang “oh nothing , I’ll use this card and HEY” he looked over at Childe he was eyeing your plump breasts as you wrote down his table’s orders “that bastard pervert “ Itto scoffed ,his gang looked at each other and smirked they could see what he was looking at , one of them covered their mouth trying to hold back laughter. Itto had always gone on and on to him how obvious it was that the waitress had the hots for him it was humiliating seeing another man take that away from him.

You walked over to Itto's table now with the orders, Itto puffed himself up ready to reclaim his thrown. "Watch this bois" “Here’s your order you guys” you smiled and placed Itto and his gangs meals on the table , Itto puffed his chest out “well I’ “Excuse me miss I need to change my order” steam came out of Itto’s horns. His gang were all now trying to hold back from laughing. “What’s so funny” the angry Oni grunted “nothing boss” Itto wasn’t the brightest candle around but he knew his gang where making fun him for some reason. You turned to Chillde "I'll be right over" One of Itto's gang members smirked "so are you still winning boss?" The big mighty Oni froze "Of course I am" he huffed , he knew his gang knew this was no longer about cards, the girl he liked ,even the reputation with his gang was on the line.

You smiled at Childe "I,ll change that for you" you put your hand on his shoulder to indicate a little flirty touch , you had a little more confidence than with Itto as your crush with Itto was pretty immense. You walked away but dropped your pencil “ops “ you said as you played innocently and bent over to pick it up, but you weren't being innocent at all you where wanting the steaming sexual eyes of Childe on you , Childe had a big smile on his face and subtly gripped for a semi second at the semi erection under the table just to relieve a little bit of the sexual tension. You glanced over had his arm and bit your lip , sending shivers down Childe's spine all the way to the nerves in his cock.

“That bastard “ Itto seethed to himself

, you’d bent down to pick up your pencil and Childe’s eyes where drinking up the sight of your thic ass then you had glanced back at him. Itto grated his teeth “This guy trying to steal my girl boys” “Eh boss since when is she your girl ? aren’t you just friends?” Itto barked “since she was checking me out , you know that , she had eyes for me and now this upper class punk thinks he can take an Orni’s prize possession. He’s got another thing coming if he thinks I’ll let him walk all over me“he growled now his eyes glaring at Childe ,Childe caught sight of him and smirked he was smarter than Itto he figured out all ready that he was threatening , and he loved danger.

Itto started to think "we have to reorder or something" "How do I kick his ass though" The gang looked at each other "challenge him to a duel?" "but how" The gang thought to themselves "maybe you could play the hero?" "hmm I like the sound of that I make a good hero after all, so how what I do bois?" as painful as it was for Itto to rely on his gang too much he couldn't come up with a plan by himself. "You could maybe go over there , and tell that punk you know what he's up to and you don't approve of him ogling your girl or friend or " Itto grinned "Thats it , I'll scare the bastard , I'm a powerful intimating Oni " he proudly pointed at himself with his thumb. "He'll be shaking in his upper class shoes"

"Yea boss , you better hurry though" Itto gasped as his gang pointed at you giggling with Childe. "grrrrrrrrr" Itto growled "Oh ..........it....... is .......ON"

Chapter 2

: The Duel Summary:

Itto is determined to claim you as his so he proposes to duel his rival.

Chapter Text

Itto sat with one leg jittering up and down anxious ��right how do I make my entrance?” He looked at his gang “eh struct over there and ask if this punk bothering you” “ “Ok”

Itto strutted over to you and Childe “hey little lady , this punk isn’t bothering you is? , cus you know I wouldn’t let that happen” he had a cocky smirk on his face and posed. You replied with a cheery tone “actually he is being very charming and give me a big tip” Itto froze and looked back to his gang one of them just shrug the other just signalled him to keep going “uhhhhhhhhh well I got the impression this dog ass was up to something “ You gasped and your ear drops, and you fumbled your tail. You where very self-conscious when people used the terms dog negatively , Itto of course didn’t get it Itto pulled a chair over and put one on foot on the chair while standing “I don’t mess around you know” Childe just rolled his eyes “Are you done?” Itto growled “no , I’m not” he crossed his arms. Childe smiled at you “ I like your” dog ass” tail by the way” , you giggled in return and Itto seethed “All right pervert , I challenge you to a duel” he took his foot off the chair and stood towering at the sitting Childe who just responded “I’m kind of busy here at a meeting “ Itto growled not busy enough to check out the service’s ass?” “I am afraid I don’t know what you are talking about, but it sounds like you where spying on this table and thought you saw something you didn’t “Childe smirked cooly.

Itto slammed his hand on the table and growled at Childe, Childe just smirked.

“Lets just forget this whole thing boys, how about I get you some drinks on the house” you said awkwardly. Childe smiled at you “maybe I could get you a drink, we could get away from this here brute go some where nice maybe even private " Itto growled as Childe peered at your tinted little cheeks " I can arrange another meeting later can’t I guys?” One of them nodded “It’s getting a little crowed, so that would be for best” Itto stared down at Childe “How about we duel for who gets to take this girl out for drinks” you blushed harder “Itto ………take me out for drinks?” you thought, a little shiver went down your spine but you didn’t want them to fight did you? , after all Itto didn’t know you encouraged a lot of the flirting , but the truth is that would have only made him just more eager to claim you. Childe smiled “I’m up for this, but I’m warning you , I’m a good fighter.' Itto puffed out his chest “but I’ve got the blood of crimson oni , everyone who knows me comments on my fighting skills , I don’t back down and I don’t lose a fight” he Itto kind of went on a bit and Childe felt his ego needed to be teased a little. Childe “don’t you like steal candy from kids ?” Itto stumbled over his words “ and I happen to be the most ,ehhhh th-that was eh one time, I just was showing the kid I had won our game so I get a prize” Childe rolled his eyes “because you usually lose to them right?” Itto fumbled some more “uh well……..eh” he looked over at you and puffed out his chest “I usually let them win, that’s just the kind of guy I am, but I’m not JUST some nice guy , I’m a tough guy, if I was you I’d just walk away because this guy here” he pointed to himself “he packs quite a PUNCH”

Childe laughed "Lets see if your bite is as good as your bark Oni, try not to disappoint me"

At this point you felt a little amused by the bravado “Where two smoking hot guys really wanting to duel over you?” your little doggy tail started to wag playfully, Itto caught sight of this and felt his heart pound, had he just impressed you? , of course he had , he knew you liked him but that little reassurance was all he needed to believe it whole heartily ,especially after Childe had attempted to emasculate him.

Childe stood up and yawned stretching his arms “All right horns , I could do with a little target practice lets go" , of course Childe was a little intimated he didn’t let it show and he lived to fight he wanted a challenge. The two walked out , or more like strutted out ,you waved to them “have a nice Duel just don’t go at it too hard” the two of them froze and looked back “I’ll just clean your tables” Itto shouted back “yo aren’t you coming “ “hm? Oh I’m sorry I’m at work” The two of them looked at each other flustered “eh hey I kind of want her to see me you know kick your ass so can we ? Childe nodded “Yeah I was hoping she’d get to see me kick your ass so lets wait until shes free ” Itto ‘s voice returned to a cocky tone “Oh yeah ? I’ll be sorry to spoil that dream”

You where singing to your self ,cleaning the tables when you were approached by the two men of they day “So when are you off work?” You tilted your head and giggled and both of their hearts stopped for a second overwhelmed by your cuteness “I’ll be done in about an hour , I’’ll bring you some refreshments”

One hour later the two where sizing each other up and you where munching in on some noodles “This sure is good” you beamed playfully but when you looked over at the two men their eyes where locked.

They walked back from each other and Itto went “on the count of 3, 1 2………3” he ran at Childe swinging his massive weapon "it's show time!!!!!!!!!!!!!" , Chilide dodged, “is that your best ?” Blue and yellow sparks beamed as the two men fought and you watched in awe at their strength. Then you where distracted by a beetle “Hey little guy “ you said wagging your tail "are you cheering on Itto you must be little ninja was it ? or I forget your name but I know Itto loves you"you where a cute little dog girl you loved animals.

The fight went one for minutes both men where covered in sweat your tail started wagging watching the sweat glisten down that Oni’s big firm muscles he was such a big boy you’d love to feel his body against you , and the strength the things he could do , imagine how he’d thrust and pump into your little pussy , you watched eyes glistening and mouth open, Itto was busy fighting exhausted he was ready to break , but then he turned to you and saw that face , your eyes hungry your mouth slightly open , your tail furiously wagging and staring at his chest ,

(a reminder imagine reader as you want I just like to draw her any way =o )-

then you caught his eyes and went bright red turning your head “mmm my pet “ he purred

-and he ran at Chilide with an amazing combo "LETS ROLL" .

Childe crashed “no more” he panted , Itto stood proud swinging his weapon over his shoulder he helped Childe up and smirked at him “I told you , you should have just walked away but noooooooooooo , but I should say thanx , nothing sweeter than victory , that's right ! mmmm it tastes soooooooooooo good maybe not as sweet as my prize hahahhaha " he laughed proudly "so, where’s my prize?” Itto purred seductively turning to face you, Childe growled in a huff “This isn’t over , I was just over worked “ he marched off pouting , it was typical of Itto to really rub it in he won he did it with great charisma too which was like rubbing salt in Childe's wounds.

The beautiful tall man sauntered towards you , his long sliver hair swishing behind him and his hungry crimson eyes hitting yours , you closed your legs nervously you could feel yourself getting a little wet overcome by his beauty, his gang where cheering him on but he kept fixed on the little cute girl on front of him, when he came up to you he purred down at you “well , well" the Oni boasted " little one did you enjoy the show, I'm quite the fighter right? maybe I should give you an autograph, eh?”

He winked at you and chuckled proudly then he picked you up swinging you around then putting you down “Now how about that date” he smiled devilishly , your heart felt like you where falling ,“He just confirmed it you where going on a date with your crush , the mighty but dumb Arataki Itto and he just picked me up" you thought to yourself, "uhhhh uh yea Itto le- lets go" he absorbed every little nervous and flustered word like a sponge, your cuteness; you oozed of it , how adorable could you be?, this sweet kind girl he really did care about becoming putty under his spell it fed his pride and he loved that , it was almost emotionally getting him off , and now that came up it was a little sexually arousing too , he liked your vulnerable fan girly ways , you really stroked his ego and it would lead to him stroking something later, all centred on you. After all he was proud man he, let himself see the lust in your eyes when you looked at his abs , when you blushed at his strength he loved making you melt into your underwear he wanted to make your fantasies a reality makes his a reality, all focused on you, he obsessed with you even he knew you wanted him , he wished he'd made a move sooner but maybe a part of him was a little afraid, it took the surge of aggressive jealous possessiveness to snap him into action, he wanted you all to himself as his little pet, to hold , cuddle, kiss and well..........to fuck over and over again the thought of another with you in their arms would cause his horns to burst into flames , you'd be his and only his and he'd show you a utopia of pleasure. The one and only him , nobody else would dare steal you from him, anyone who tried was dead not that anyone else would be able to pleasure you like he could, he thought to himself , if anyone even thought they'd come close he'd be there to prove them wrong, of course let his ego drive him forward , you where going to be his and he'd make sure you enjoyed every second , the way you massaged his ego though , it made you sexier than any girl he'd ever met in his whole life.

Chapter 3

: Making His Mark on

Things get heated.

You where very nervous walking beside this hulk of a man he was still swaggering with pride from his victory. “So you wanna stop by where you work to get our drinks or?” “eh oh yeah that sounds good” you said nervously “c’mere this is a date isn’t it?” he puled you closer to him ,you froze and he looked at you with satisfied eyes “enjoying yourself” he chuckled. “of course” you responded , you where pretty close to him, he wrapped his hand around your waist while he smirked proudly, he loved seeing you a nervous mess melting over him.

“here we are, so hey do we get discount cus you work here? Cus you know I love not spending money” “oh yes you responded, “Ok then you buy the drinks and whatever it is , I’ll cover it , being a man I’m all about spoiling my little lady” he boosted.

You came back with the drinks “I got some sake for us” “ohhhhhhhhhhhh yum “ he purred The both of you settled in enjoying yourselves “You know little lady , I really care about you, I hope you realise I consider you one of my gang, we have a lot of fun together and I love how you can go from being a bundle of giggles to a bundle of nerves “ You blushed and your tail started to wag, it was true , when you two where playing with the local kids or collecting beetles you where a lot less nervous, well besides the odd moment Itto would catch you checking him out. When you where at work and was waiting his table (or right now on a freaking date ) you went to jelly, maybe though you should try opening up to him a little? I also like your tail and those doggy hears, how are you so cute?, it's too much!" He chuckled beaming with joy now flashing those pearly white fangs. “You know Itto I really like you too” you started playing with your tail ,eyes to the floor “You are really beautiful , fun , strong …….” Itto looked at you but you wouldn’t look at him “keep going” he cupped your face and turned it to him. “eh and you are loyal, protective , proud” Itto purred “mmm yes I am” “I really have f-fallen for you” the light hearted tone broke Itto shuffled a little “I uh-----I feel the same way about you” You gasped and peered into his crimson eyes, He blushed “Y- you know ,your fun, cute and you make my heart------ugh he groaned this is kind of heart on a man’s heart” he looked away and you grabbed his big strong hand “You mean a lot to me” you smiled , you looked at him with big flirty eyes , his heart started to race ,you had made him melt. “maybe say that again ?” “You mean a lot to me” you giggled. He smiled “is that so , well right back at you “ he leaned in and kissed your forehead protectively “You're adorable ,you know that? “ he whispered. “by the way I want you all to myself” he growled thinking of Childe eyeing up your chest. You smiled but then your smile broke and your cute doggy pointy eyes dropped. “Hey what’s the matter?” he asked confused and alarmed. You sighed “ your rival, you know Kujou Sara you like her don’t you” Itto burst out laughing “don’t be silly, I respect her and I like her as a rival but I don’t plan on shacking it up with her, in fact she’s pretty annoying at times you know? “ “but you want to sumo fight her sounds like you want to be super close with her” a little tear ran down your cheek , Itto caught sought of it and wiped it “hey, hey , hey no tears little lady , you have no need to worry ok?” he sighed “OK keep this a secret promise?” You nodded. “All right I trust you, I lost a duel to her ok , so I decided to ………fix a rematch" you tilted your head in confusion as Itto checked nobody was listening. “I knew she’d either lose or refuse a sumo duel, we had a sumo duel once but we where younger and we rolled down a hill , I knew this time I could win or I could at least call her a chicken , if she wouldn't fight me , then shed back down on front of everyone and if she agreed I knew a sumo duel it would at least be in my favour because when it comes to raw strength, of course I'd win ” You laughed reassured and Itto smiled “so no need to worry and hey I’m not worried about that punk with you" he lied " any guys that think they could steal you away from me , I’ll show them who’s boss!!!!” he chuckled with pride. You nuzzled into him “I want that” , he held you closer “lets make it official , will you be my girl? , and mine alone” “Of course!!!!!!” you beamed cuddling closer. “Heh this is a good evening but if you keep getting close to me like that” “Yeah ?” you beamed up at him. He was hoping he hadn't gone too far , he'll have to think of something to say,“uhhhh I “ but then, you bit your lip and your eyes said "fuck me" he smirked smugly it was time to go in for the kill “I might have to take you home" he purred”. You trailed your fingers up his abs “take me home big boi” “CHECK PLEASE” he cried out.

The two of you went to your home ,“come in Itto” Itto walked in a flash ,you sat on the bed feeling a little awkward, he walked over to you , towering over you , he mounted you , peppering kisses on your neck “Itto “ you purred surprised at how forward he was being. “you like that don’t you?” of course you liked it , you even liked the little nips of his fangs while he kissed you and now his hands trailed to your breasts. “lovely and plump” he growled, he ripped off your top and fumbled with your bra, you helped him , he wasn’t as experienced as you expected , the truth was though he had prepared , he knew you liked him and he fantasied a lot about you while he stroked himself, he even started reading books on how to please a women , of course he would never tell you that, of course he wanted you to think he was just that good ,he didn't need a manual , a mighty crimson Oni just new instinctively how to make a girl feel good , that was him to a T being the egotistical man he was ,the first time with you would have to blow you away. He started kissing your breasts ; sloppy wet kisses and then he was sucking on your nipples , you felt his growing tent in his pants against you , your pussy pooled with wetness as he started grinding himself against you he was so excited , his cock was throbbing, it was desperate to be pleasured. “Be a good girl for me” he growled , he started gripping both your tits and panting "ugh yes their perfect" he absorbed in the pleasurable sight while he humped you hard , you felt his erection rub against your pussy , then he pulled further up to your dismay , he smiled at your needy face and brought his knee between your crouch , he liked the control , in fact he wanted more, he needed to restrain you show you his strength, it felt so good though for both of you , his cock rubbed , grinding on you and his knee hitting your clit , massaging and pleasuring you, you wanted more. Then he forced himself to stop , he stole the ribbons from around your waist and tied you to the bed , “I need to show you who is the big bad Oni” he growled ,you blushed as he took of your skirt and removed your underwear. your legs nervous half hid your little pussy , Itto pulled them out of the way "mmmmm somebody is excited “ ,he saw your little leaking pussy on front of him and pushed two fingers inside. “oh my” you gasped. “ohhhhh yes” he chuckled , you squirmed pulling at the ribbons, this further excited Itto, seeing you squirm helplessly. He lapped up your juices and teased your clit with his tongue the gentle licking caused you to arch your back while the ribbons held you to the bed. “oh my Itto your amazing. “ you know I am “ he hummed rewarding you by kissing and sucking your pussy then rubbing circles around your pulsing clit “oh Itto you’re a mighty crimson Oni, I masturbate thinking of you almost every night” He paused his heart nearly stopped beating , "This girl knows how to please me " the arrogant man thought ,you could almost feel the grin growing on his proud face buried between your legs, He took his face away from your pussy from your dismay and leaned over you, he was massive. “You’re a good little pet for me, aren’t you ? By the way" I do the same over you " "oh god" you purred that is so hot", He glared at you soaking in your aroused face, biting your lip, locking your eyes to his , he knew how much this was teasing you so he kept going "I love to catch the sight of your little blush , of those plump tits jiggling" he ran his fingers over them gently " I thought about what they might look like , ugh so many fantasies my little pet many nights I couldn't keep my hands off myself "he glide his hand softly over you pussy but only lightly pet it to tease you" mmm because you had turned me on so much with your body , your cuteness ugh " as he whispered in your ear , "you make me a furious beast " you gulped and he smirked he removed his hand and rubbed himself over his pants due to the immense arousal becoming too much for his painfully stiff erection begging for attention. How could he turn you on any more ? and while he left your poor blue clit untouched ? " You make me so hungry……….ugh so damn hungry he groaned “ his cock was thudding , pulsating , oozing precum it darkened his paints, it begged to be touched even more. He stepped down got down off you , now at the end of the bed , you where struggling to get a look at him , the end of the bed covered his lower half . You heard his belt getting unbuckled frantically and saw him fumbling. “Let me see, and touch me while you show me “ you pleaded , you where so aroused , hearing how he would rub himself off to thoughts of you? the unbuckling noise , it was too much , you wanted to see him stroke it ,but you where begging him in your head to relieve you as you watched. Itto responded “let you see…. ? my pet show me your manners” he laughed arrogantly. “please you begged” He walked to the side of bed, freeing his cock , it was pretty big with a beautiful flushed mushroom tip, you blushed with your mouth hanging open now with drool oozing down your lips to your chin. He chuckled proudly “ I know I'm really something and guess what you - my little pet , are allllllll mine , I want you all to myself” he wiped the drool from your lips and licked his fingers then he mounted you again and shuffled over to your face. “Suck it my pet” he growled “Y-yes master” “mmm” he purred even before your lips met his glorious proud cock “ahh yes “ he moaned as you sucked him he started to rub himself corkscrew style , while you sucked the tip “such a good pet” the precum oozed as grunted, you where massaging your mouth against him , kissing his cock. You made sure to focus on the tip you knew that was the most sensitive part. "this is soooooooooo good" he thought "I hope she hasn't done this with , no no " that was his competitive side , always lurking always ready to fight off a rival. “I’ve never felt so good , such a good pet” he took his hands off his cock and began to just fuck your mouth , it went in deeper , in and out of your mouth. He started to pet you , then after pumping your mouth he pulled out a bit , so you could continue to focus on the tip sucking and then he gripped your hair “ugh it’s uhhh” Suddenly he removed his cock before it could cum "ah shit this is so hard, you are so damn sexy, I'm trying to hold back from cumming" he was literally edging himself now but it felt like the hardest thing he'd ever done but hey he didn't want to finish yet besides you deserved your share after all the teasing and he wanted to get off to see it , even if he got hard again , the first orgasm would always be most powerful, he wanted to fill you with all that cum while you moaned for him You squirmed “I need relief , let me touch myself already, its too much ” you where pulling on the ribbons He smiled knowing you too where horny as hell he was relived he hadn't just exploded from all the arousal of watching you get like this . “you can wait” he purred Your pussy was aching , begging to be touched it was sexual torture, it felt swollen with sore aches , and you had just felt his pulsing wet cock in your mouth , you heard this monstrous, insanely hot man moan your name and stroke your hair, and then you seem him tortured , resisting to cum, because you had turned him on so much , made him the ultimate sexual beast. "Ugh " you whined struggling desperately to free yourself which only excited him more. “you want it bad don’t you my little pet" he teased "Tell Itto , tell your master how bad you want it" “Yes Itto please, I can't wait, I need it my pussy it's on fire, its actually hurting it feel swollen and sore, it throbs for you and everything you've been doing it only turns me on more ” Oh boy he loved this , he inserted his cock to be massaged by your little mouth again ,but then seeing you so aroused , desperate for his touch, and how he was so much bigger then you , it was easy to over power you and easier while you where tied up "All right I'm not that cruel , but you should thank me , it's going to feel more amazing now that I've made you wait for it ", he took out his cock, “I’ll give your reward for being such a good girl for me” he went back down and massaged your clit with his mouth. “ohhhhhhhhh Itto I love you” this made his whole soul sing and both your hearts where racing, you where so full with arousal you where ready to cum , then you heard him clearly rubbing himself vigorously, looks like the tables had turned he couldn’t hold back his aching , painful erection while he stimulated you. “ugh yes” I need to be inside of you he groaned. “Itto I could cum any moment” you were so overcome you broke the ribbons , he opened your legs pushing in his massive cock he watched you bite your lip adjusting to it , then he powerfully thrusted. “That’s a good girl “ then you grabbed his horns “oh Itto don’t stop” “ahh my pet you broke fr-freeee? , you’re a naughty girl good thing I’m in a--- ugh good mood” he panted, pumping furiously inside you, and damn was this big bou strong “nothing could stop me now” he growled. “ohhhhhhhh Itto you are everything to me” the pleasure over came you , his hips thrashing his hearty cock into you , the sweat dripping down his firm massive abs, he felt you clutch his cock as he stimulated your g-spot perfectly. “I love you “ you screeched “no man could fuck me like you” you took your hands off his horns and started to rub your clit while he pumped into you , you could not hold back the orgasm building , it was so hot it made you feel sooooooooooooooooooooo good. You felt the contractions “oh Itto I love you , I’m cumming nobody makes me feel as good as you , you are unreal you , oh my --“ your moan is literal perfection to Itto’s ears, but the whimpering the tears streaming down your cheeks that topped it. Itto was loosing it pumping into you he gazed at your face broken with pleasure, vulnerable ,so damn sexy , so in love with him and how you had just said "oh my" how cute could you be? “You are so cute ,too cute I feel it ugh yes” then his cock convulsed “ugh yes my pet , only ever be with me, I'm the one and Oniiiiiiii” he bellowed as his balls tightened and his cock contracted in immense pleasure shooting a massive load into you , now the cum oozed out of you , filling you right up and escaping from your now satisfied pussy. Both of you where panting and he collapsed on top of you “my-litt little lady” he panted “Y-“ “Yes you responded cupping his face and kissing him” “You love me? “ he smiled . You blushed “I I think I do, at least, nobody else makes my heart beat like you do , I have so much fun with you and y-ugh I don’t know how to say this ” Itto chuckled “now ,now lil missy, don’t you dare stop, keep going tell your boi Itto all the details” you gave out a little embarrassed chuckle “sometimes it feels like you are my soul mate” Itto smiled feeling immense affection “I love you too babe” he started kissing your neck but then you felt two pricks on your neck. “Itto what are you?” “I’m making you mine “ he purred “ouch it hurts” he holds you down “easy now baby” then the teeth piece your neck leaving two small marks trickled with blood. Itto licks the blood then peers into your dilated eyes. “I’ve made my mark on you , forever you are tattooed by my fangs, if any man even dares to take you from me , he’ll see the scars of my mark , the mighty crimson oni and babe , I mean it, I love you" he smirked as he looked at your tear stained face. The both of you had fallen hard for each other, no longer just good friends , no longer just crushing on each other , the perfect man owned you and the perfect pet belonged to him, his little cute soul mate.

#Arataki Itto/Reader #arataki smut #genshin arataki #arataki itto #smut #fluff #arataki x reader

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