#consider this my belated bday gift to him; my one and only | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tobiosmilktea · 3 years

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red ink — semi eita

2.5k words | genre/s: tattoo shop!au, friends with benefits, smut | warning/s: uhh badly written nsfw | pairing: musician!semi x tattoo artist!reader

↪︎ in which famous musician, semi eita is a regular at your tattoo parlor and only gets work done from you and you only. the only catch is that fans only know that much and definitely not the fact that you and him are friends with benefits.

a/n: happy belated bday for my good friend @kitsunetea. here’s my shameless second (third?) attempt at writing smut as a late bday gift bc fuck it, amirite haha ✋🏻😔

please take it easy on this one,, this is singlehandedly one of the worst nsfw pieces i’ve ever written and i just want to apologize in advance...

semi had forgotten the tingling feeling of a tattoo gun striking away at his skin. he liked how each indent of minuscule pinpricks would leave a mark on him forever. the pain, though not enough to make him grit his teeth like the first time around when he impulsively got one on the side of his ribcage, was actually quite nice. the sensation was almost addictive, however, it wasn’t as nearly as addictive as you.

it was no shock nor surprise that each reveal of his newest tattoo was always done by you. most would understand the practicality of going to one tattoo artist consistently. if anything, most of his fans would come to believe that he simply just liked your style of tattooing and artistry, but no one would even claim to think that you two had even a pinch of something going on behind the scenes. it wasn’t like he would always stop by your shop all disguised and covered up in a black cap and a face mask just in case there were any hidden onlookers that would blatantly assume the worst.

the worst being that semi eita, the nation’s current rockstar heartthrob, was hooking up with some obscure, back alley tattoo artist.

but it was safe to say he was as addicted to you as he was addicted to the infamous pain of receiving a tattoo.

it had been ages since his last tattoo. this one especially was placed on his right forearm of a snake that spiraled up and around his wrist in red ink.

times like these—here, where your eyes are focused and locked onto his skin, making sure to capture each intricate detail, brows drawing together in concentration as you made swift and accurate runs over his skin—came to realize how much he missed the feeling of getting tattooed. but most importantly, he missed the feeling of you. the warmth of your skin, body blazing underneath him as your breath tickled at the nape of his neck.

at moments like these where he could just stare at your entirety for an hour and a half, admiring how the low lights cast shadows upon each and every curve of your body was enough to keep him occupied through the process.

you lifted your tattoo gun up as your other gloved hand wiped the area clean from any residual ink. you took one last look at your work, clean and well-done.

it was pretty good if you could say so yourself. the linework was easily one of your best, and the shading was even better. no wonder semi liked getting work done by you so much (other than the fact that you two are friends with benefits—he would joke, “i’ll give you the best night of your life and you can give me a free tattoo in return.”)

you’ve never seen that man back out of a joke that quickly in your life. regardless, you still found yourself taking him up on that offer, still paying for his tattoos as a good customer should. support local businesses as they always say.

“alright,” you say, breaking the last ten minutes of silence as you cleaned him up. “you already know the drill–gently wash it with warm soap and water at least twice a day, pat dry, and then apply ointment.”

semi looked up at you once you stood up to grab a box of saniderm from another station. he stands up, making his way to one of the large mirrors on the wall to inspect his tattoo as a smile crept onto his lips.

“how is it?”

“it’s perfect,” he says, “as always.”

“well, you shouldn’t expect anything less from me.”

“you know, you don’t have to be so professional all the time. the shop’s already closed and no one else is here but us.”

you give him a pointed look as you take out a strip of saniderm large enough to cover the circumference of his forearm. you press the thin plasticine carefully around his freshly bruised skin, peeling the protective backing off of the clear bandage. “technically, you’re still a customer. can’t really give you any more special treatment.”

“says the girl who literally gives me tattoos after the shop closes,” semi fires back.

“or you could actually come in during normal hours to get one instead of coming a minute before we close just so we can hook up,” you deadpan, ignoring the look he gave you as you turn around and made your way towards the front desk.

semi doesn’t miss a single beat in following right behind you, stopping in front of the counter as you were on the other side with the cash register.

“well if you didn’t want to fuck in the back room anymore, you could’ve just told me,” says semi as you tap away at the screen in front of you, “we can go to my apartment instead.”

“paying with card again?” you ask, completely ignoring the way your body heated up all of a sudden.

the musician in front of you nods, handing you his card quickly. you take the thin plastic out of his hand and swiped it in one quick motion, handing it to him once the machine properly reads his card. within seconds, the receipt comes out of the printer. you snatch it from the opening before shoving it into semi’s chest.

“so what do you say?” he presses, continuing to follow you around like a dog as you serpentine your way back to your station.

you let out a sigh, huffing as you start cleaning up, “about what?”

“about me taking you home. maybe spend the night?”

you swerve around to face him, a spray bottle of disinfectant in one hand and paper towels in the other. you give him a coy smile, “you’re funny,” you huff before pushing past him to spray the chair then wiping it down.

“come on, (y/n), it’s been a while since we’ve last done anything together.” semi gives you a mischievous pout, “don’t you miss me?”

his words immediately flush out your cheeks as you recalled the memory so vividly, it was like you could almost feel semi’s large hands exploring every inch of your body, memorizing every dip and curve like it was second nature. to think that all happened in the storage closet while there were people still in the shop. the simple thought of your last rendezvous with him went straight to your heat.

no wonder you haven’t done anything with semi in a while after that little stunt he pulled almost a month ago.

in order for a tattoo shop to run properly, it needed to be completely sanitary to prevent any health complications considering your job was to literally puncture tattoo ink deep into people’s skin, the risk of infection runs high in situations like these. so by law, fucking in a tattoo shop, regardless if it was in the backroom, was completely out of regulations. not to mention the scandals to potentially spread like wildfire that one of the world’s favorite musicians being at the root of all this.

those poor fangirls, you thought. drama was the last thing you wanted.

“so?” you say, trying to pull yourself together as you finish sanitizing the chair. you turn to face him, hoping that he couldn’t see the way your cheeks were burning up knowing he would only keep up the teasing. “why don’t you just fuck one of you groupies or something?”

semi scoffs, “i’d never stoop that low. besides, you’re the only one i’ve been with ever since this started happening between us.”

“good for you for not being a whore, i guess?”

you brush past him again, this time cleaning up the mess on your table. placing the spray bottle of water, rolls of paper towels, bottles of red ink, and your gloves away–you discard anything else in the bin.

“don’t be like that,” he sighs as he comes and wraps a strong arm around your waist. he rests his chin on your shoulder, the tip of his nose tickling at your skin as his mouth latches onto your neck. “i for sure missed you.”

“eita,” you say, attempting to hold back a moan as he nipped at the sweet spot on your neck. despite your efforts, quiet mewls escape your lips as his thumbs rubbed circles over your hips. “i-i still have to clean up. let me finish and then maybe we could—”

without another word, semi lets go of you and immediately starts getting to work, gathering up all the one-time-use disposable items and dumping them all in the trash. he moves quickly, rubbing down every nook and cranny of your station until it’s squeaky clean. your eyes widen at his state. it was clear he wanted to get this over with as fast as possible so he can finally have you all to himself.

did he really yearn for you this much?

in just a few minutes, the job is already done. clean and spotless and ready for tomorrow’s workday as semi gives you a hopeful look. “is that all?”

you hold back a smile as you motion towards the boxes stacked up near the entrance of the backroom, “i still have to put those away and then we’re all done for the day.”

the man doesn’t even let you finish as he’s already making his way down the hallway. There was no sign of hesitancy in his actions as he grabbed two of the boxes, one stacked on top of the other as he barged into the backroom. you follow him in with only one box in your hand as you placed them in their respective places on the large industrial shelving.

you let out a grunt as you picked up the last box and inserting it into its spot. you sigh, dusting your hands as you turn around to face semi, “alright, we’re all d—”

semi doesn’t hesitate for a second to push you up against the wall, his lips crashing into yours with such desperation and fervor. he had been anticipating this for the past two hours. from the moment he walked in, to the moment you finished tattooing him; all he wanted was you.

you moan into his lips, his hand cupping your jaw while the fingers of the other were already working their magic. his touch greatly juxtaposed the zeal in the way he kissed you deeply, dipping his tongue between your soft lips as his finger, slightly calloused from years of guitar playing, gently trailed their way up your shirt.

there was a brief moment where you had to pull away from him in order to catch your breath. chest rising and falling rapidly along with the quickening beat of your heart, semi dived down to your neck, marking you with dark red bruising to anywhere he had access to. his large palms rubbed your sides before squeezing at your breasts to elicit a pleasurable groan from you. the pent-up heat within you only built the more he played with your body, fingers flicking at your nipples.

“what happened to taking me back to your place?” you asked breathlessly.

“i couldn’t wait any longer,” he mutters on your warm skin, feeling his soft lips twitch into a lopsided grin as before you knew it, he was already tugging your shirt over your head. “jump,” he says and you don’t miss a beat.

he catches you quickly, hands palming your ass as he steers you towards one of the supply tables. pushing away loose items and paperwork off to the sides.

semi’s lips meet yours again as he fiddles with the button and zipper of your jeans, diving his hand inside. he palms your sex, the pads of his fingers teasing up and down your slit as his thumb rubs circular motions around your clit. your moan muffles into his shoulder, breathe heavy and uneven.

you couldn’t seem to catch your breath as he dipped two fingers into you, pumping them in and out slowly. it was a nice change of pace from earlier, and yet you couldn’t help but let out mewls of impatience as you ground your hips into his hand, desperate for more.

semi knew what the hell he was doing.

he was a musician after all. his entire career was literally built off of his innate ability to play the guitar that each expertly placed finger and movement that accompanied it was guaranteed to send waves of pleasure throughout your entire body. he was good at what he did and he knew it. he didn’t need to see the way you were shaking under him, coating his hand with your juices, or have to hear your addicting moans to know you felt so, so good.

“eugh, eita–” your breath hitches when he curls his fingers inside you, rubbing the spongy spot deep within you in the best way possible. you curse under your breath, savoring the pleasure as you felt your release coiling in your abdomen.

“you’re close aren’t you?” semi didn’t even have to ask to know as your walls tightened around him. you nod hastily, eyes coating in lust and the desire to feel the release as you look at him.

the look that you gave him as enough to send him over the edge, his thoughts blurring once he quickens his pace, his middle and ring finger pistoning in and out of you.

you let out a cry, practically trembling under him. “oh my god, oh my god.”

with his other hand, he finds your clit again, rubbing you over the edge. it was all too much. from the mixing cacophony of the most obscene and vulgar sounds of sex emanating from the backroom to the absolute thrill of how good semi was making you feel—you were ready to feel that euphoric glow.

“fuck,” you clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin even through the fabric of his shirt. “shit, baby, i’m gonna—”

semi doesn’t mind the sting of your scratches at his body as he was too busy paying mind to you cumming all over his hand. gushing fluid escapes from you in waves as semi continues pumping his fingers in and out of you, his pace matching with the way your walls pulsated around him.

as you came down from your high, your arms that rested on the table to hold you up felt weak. almost immediately, your body slumps onto semi as he licks your pleasure off his fingers. you bury your face into the crook of his neck as you both stayed there for a few beats to catch your breaths, savoring the unique afterglow whenever you were with semi.

perhaps it wasn’t so bad doing this type of thing with him a bit more often. you didn’t mind what you had with him right now even if you two were just friends with benefits. you liked what you had now and asking for more would certainly cause a strain you don’t want to happen so soon.

your hand reaches up to run through his soft hair.

“hey,” you softly say. he only responds with a hum, “what about you?” you ask as your eyes cast down to the straining tent in his jeans.

he doesn’t answer. instead, he places a few kisses on your cheek and down to your neck before placing one of your lips. “let’s continue this at home, i have a surprise for you.”

general taglist: @yongboxerrr @rosepetalhaven @tvwhoresblog @tanakaslastbraincell @kellesvt @kitsunetea @anejuuuuoy

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu fluff #semi eita #semi x reader #semi scenarios #semi imagines #semi smut #semi fluff

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libradusk · 4 years

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Utterly Devoted | Kix

Word Count: 4,370

Pairing: Clone Medic Kix x Reader

Summary: You and Kix demonstrate to each other just how deep your devotion lies

Warnings: Explicit smut, tender sex with lots of feeeeeelings because I’ve made this man suffer through the previous chapter, eating pussy as a thank you gift because why the fuck not is there really a better way to start your morning when you’re stuck in the middle of a shitty war, some soft pillow talk to top it all off.

a/n: This is a belated bday gift to @morganas-pendragons! Hope you enjoy the Kix pipe hehe

Its also a continuation from this chapter of my Touch Starved series, consider this the smutty sequel that touches on some of the events that happened the night before.

Tagging: @thatonesakudere, @kaminobiwan and @simping-for-fives (Send me a message if you wanna be tagged in any of my future fics!)

The first thing you notice when you awaken is how groggy you feel, it's as if there is a solid weight pressed against your body and mind, it fights with your half-delirious state of being in an attempt to drag you back down to slumber.

The second thing that dawns on you is that you are not dreaming and there is indeed a heavy weight slung over your chest, but his name is Kix, and he’s currently snoring into your shoulder with the rest of him draped around you like a loth-cat in a sunbeam. He’s also currently dominating the majority of the bed space, which was cramped to begin with, yet you can’t help but smile and relent into the warmth he offers with little more than a roll of your eyes that he won’t see.

It's just nice to see him so peaceful. You can’t confidently recall the last time you had seen him with anything less than a crease to his brow, and a sleep-deprived scowl poisoning his handsome face in the rare moments he allowed his composure to slip. This is nice, it's warm and safe and feels like home for you both despite the hell you had both endured barely a full 10 hours earlier. You’re determined to grasp onto this ribbon of tranquillity for as long as the galaxy permits you to.

The buckling pain that bites down your side when you twist too suddenly to get a better look at him is a painful reminder of that. You force it down in order to run a gentle touch over his cheekbone as he too begins to stir awake, as if the bond you have forged has demanded that he too be pulled from his slumber to meet the morning air alongside you. Two violet rings of exhaustion circle under his eyes as they flutter open to meet your own. Your fingers glide to brush against the one decorating his left socket on impulse. It takes a moment for him to swallow down his disorientation before his vision focuses completely. You note the spark of confusion that flashes across his expression before it dawns on him that no, this isn’t a dream and yes - you are settled in his arms in the same position you had been the previous night when he had curled into your chest until his tears had ceased soaking your shirt’s fabric.

There's a hint of shame that trickles into those tired eyes then and you smile openly in the hope that it will quash any guilt squirming in his gut before it forces him to voice it.

“Good morning, my love.” The sound of your voice is soft and still swaddled with drowsiness. It still manages to pull the corners of his own lips into a sleepy smile, and there's a twinkle in his honey-coloured gaze as his eyes open wider now. The sight of it settles oddly in your stomach, it's the first time he’s looked like himself in a while, the realisation of that fact hurts a little, but you try to focus on the happiness that bubbles alongside it instead.

You’re both alive and you’re together - you’re lucky in so many ways to be squashed into this tiny GAR-issued cot with the man you love. It’s a privilege so many others would kill for, and right now all you want to do is sink into him and forget all about your injury and the God-forsaken war that has caused it.

You lean forward to press a kiss against his forehead, right where the crease of his frown usually sits - thankfully, it's absent this morning, replaced by a honeyed mixture of amusement and adoration as his eyes drift over the sleepy bliss that dances upon your face.

“Good morning yourself.” He waits until you pull away to speak, words tumbling out in a deep purr. They catch in his throat before he clears it of any remaining evidence that indicates he had spent the previous evening crying in both relief and frustration at your situation.

You thread your fingers around the back of his skull to stoke across the seam where his hairline meets his nape. The action is meant to be comforting, but it appears to stoke something deeper in his eyes as he sighs into the contact, tilting his head back in such a way that makes the rumble that echoes through his throat all the more prominent. Kix attempts to keep the lazy smirk on his face as he peers at you through heavy, dark eyelashes, but there's a hazy lust swimming beneath them now. It pairs itself beautifully with the spread of blush peppering his cheeks and the tips of his ears. The whole combination taints his attempt at playing off his bravado with an unmistakable bashfulness that has you smiling even wider against the pace of your own quickening heartbeat.

Your fingers continue to wind teasing little circles down his neck as you still to watch his reaction, lying in wait and thinly veiled curiosity to see what his next move would be. Kix watches you with just as much intensity, tongue jutting out to wet his lips for a moment as his blush grows darker under your touch. His grip around your middle flexes with uncertainty as he cocks an eyebrow when you drag your hand down to rest on his shoulder, digits drumming against the muscle in silent anticipation.

The air between you has shrugged away it's quiet serenity now, what has sunk in to replace it is much more charged, but still apprehensive of crossing the final line with the fear that the other was not completely open to the idea of embracing it, considering all that had unfurled the night before.

He kisses you then, shattering it. The press of his lips is hungry, and carries a hint of the same desperation they had tasted of the previous evening when he’d told you he loved you between the salty bite of tears and yearning. But even so, this is different, because he’s yours and the pain attached to his confession feels long spilled now. By the second time your lips meet, you’re openly sighing into his mouth and you catch the hitch in his own breath as you do so. The fire is all but blazing in his brown eyes when you finally part, though you only get the chance to stare completely into its flames for a moment before he’s pushing himself up to loom over you, fastening you down against the mattress with little more than the press of his hand against your own beside your head.

“How about I help you wake up properly, hmm?” Gone is the tiredness in his tone. His voice reaches you in a husky, thickened wave that wraps down your spine in a shiver. A quiet giggle of delight leaves you as you stare upwards at him, and his smile cracks wider to reach his eyes at your reaction. It sings of the old Kix, the real Kix, and that knowledge warms your heart even deeper than where mere lust could ever hope to reach it. There's still a nagging hint of concern tugging at the corner of your soul however, even despite the heat licking between your thighs at the thought of having him completely. It reminds you that you’re still concerned about his well being considering everything he had endured as of late, as well as the fact you were very much still sore from your own physical injury. Kix seems to read your thoughts because in the second of silence that separates the two of you, his expression softens in time with his voice.

“I’ll be gentle with you, I want this too, so much.”

Another kiss, this one soft and prolonged, whispering adoration and assurance into the very heart of you.

“I love you.”

You seize the forbidden fruit and completely melt into his embrace.

The next thing you know, you’re stripped bare and writhing beneath him as he kisses his way down between your thighs. He’s attentive to each catch of your breath and the buck of your hips when one of his hands ghosts over a particularly sensitive patch of skin in the dip of your hip bone. You have to remind yourself to breathe each time his lips edge further down your torso, the muscles of your abdomen rippling beneath his teasing caresses and the fan of his breath as he chuckles to himself at how you squirm at the slightest indication of him travelling lower, towards where you crave him most. Kix is as naked as you are, having wasted little time tearing off his blacks alongside each article of clothing he stripped away from your own body. His hand was quick to recapture your own in its grasp once he had you exposed to his satisfaction. Your fingers remain caged amidst his own, held hostage while his other hand continues to grope and explore the expanse of your flesh, only breaking their journey to bat away your own free hand each time you reach out to attempt to grasp at him.

“Ah, ah, ah, nope,” His voice is playfully frustrating as he reprimands you, another chuckle slipping through it when you finally relent and flop down in exasperation at his refusal to let you touch him in return, “this is about you, lay back and let me take care of you, cyare.”

You’re about to clap back at him with a sarcastic rebuttal when the sensation of his breath over your core rips any remaining shred of coherency from you. You briefly register him mutter something about ‘thanking you for everything’ and the feeling of him hauling one of your thighs over his shoulder before the sound of your own moaning echoes in your ears. It forces you to clamp your trembling free hand over your mouth in an attempt to keep your noises of delight secret from the rest of the base. It’s counterpart remains laced with his own as he pulls it down to rest near your hip and squeezes it reassuringly to ground you both from floating away with the clouds of lust permeating the room.

Kix groans against your folds as he drags his tongue over your clit in long, drawn out stripes, clearly revelling in the taste and slickness coating his lips. You can feel the scratch of his stubble brush against your inner thigh with each movement of his jaw and it only heightens the fire spreading across your nerves further. It takes a good minute before you can find the strength to push yourself up to lock eyes with him from where he’s stationed between your legs, the heavy-lidded expression decorating his face only pushing you further towards your peak. He looks positively love-struck as he lathes his tongue against your cunt, relentlessly switching between circling your clit and teasing the tip of the slick muscle inside of your entrance in such a way that has you seeing stars once your head tilts back once more, never quite letting you adjust to one pattern before catching you off guard with another. You lift your hips and grind against the pressure his tongue lavishes on you, chest heaving with the threat of a quickly approaching climax, one that’s only spurred on further when Kix’s chest rumbles with a shuddering moan as your slick runs down his chin and onto the sheets below.

It's dizzying almost, and he has you sobbing and babbling sweet nonsense into the pillows when your first orgasm hits you with a shock that threatens your vision white. Kix remains between your legs even as you begin to come down from your high, rubbing soothing circles into the twitching flesh of your thigh as you take in heavy gasps of warm air to steady your breathing.

“You ok there, cyare?” The warmth bubbles upwards to your chest once you register the care cradled in his words.

“-Mmhmm,” You’re more than ok, despite the tremble in your legs you feel fucking elated after his display of ‘gratitude’, but the intensity of your orgasm has left you feeling so dazed it takes a substantial deal of effort to simply nod your head as you remain slumped against the pillows and crumpled sheets.

Kix waits patiently for you to regain composure, his fingers dancing over your hip now as he admires you in your afterglow. You suddenly feel a little shy, spread out, spent and wet beneath where he cranes over you, but the feeling quickly fades as fast as it surfaces because it's Kix and he makes you feel safer than anyone else in the universe.

“I’m great, actually,” Your voice is somewhat raspy from the strain of your moaning, but Kix still grins at you like you’ve just serenaded him instead. The sight of it flusters your words all over again, “‘wanna - want to make you feel good too though, want you, Kix.”

His blush deepens further as the air appears to leave his lungs through his nose at your blunt confession. He swallows thickly, and you can see the remnants of your wetness glistening around his mouth in the dim light.

Now it's your turn to smirk.

He’s lost for words for a moment before he can bring himself to crash down and kiss you again. This time you can taste yourself on his lips and the knowledge of what you’ve shared only makes you groan louder and buck your hips against him, finally released from the cage of his bicep around your thigh. You can feel the length of his cock, hot and heavy and desperate as it skims against your stomach and smears a trail of precum across your skin. His hands remain planted at either side of your head, holding his weight up on his forearms so as not to crush you or potentially aggravate your injury any further. The care he takes in handling you softens your heart, but you note the hesitation stiffening his muscles.

“...Hey,” your tone is as soft as your eyes as you reach up to cup his cheek and force his gaze to yours, marvelling in the way the heat of his body so quickly envelops your own, “I’m not going to break. It’s already healing thanks to the bacta so you don’t need to worry. Please.”

“...Ok.” He keens into your touch as you once again rake your fingernails over the seam of where his tattoo meets his hairline, you make a mental note to remember the reaction such a mindless gesture draws from him. When his eyes reopen to lock with yours, they’re practically swimming with a gilded stream of desire. “I love you.”

You don’t have a chance to repeat the declaration back to him before the words are stolen from you and replaced by a stuttering moan as he pushes into you. Your head hits the pillow the same moment he bites a mark into the curve of your throat and stills his hips against yours, completely submerged within your cunt until his pelvis kisses your own. You both moan in tandem as you flutter around him, split open and stretched in the most delicious way with his pubic bone grazing your clit.

You’re sure you hear him bite down on a whimper as you give an experimental buck of your hips, his eyes closing the moment you wrap your legs around his middle to force him impossibly closer still. Kix’s hands fist the sheets beside your head, and you’re confident you’ve never seen a man look more beautiful than he does in this moment. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth and you crane your neck upwards to press a kiss to his chin, a silent plea for him to move and drag another wave of pleasure from your body. Broad hands fly to cup your face the moment he begins a slow pace inside you, the weight of his body falling to his elbows as his eyes snap open to watch for your reactions. He feels incredible, pulling out nearly all the way before snapping his hips back to meet your own each time in long, deep thrusts that have you moaning obscenely each time he comes to the end of you. He steals each sound from your lips with a series of sloppy open mouthed kisses, showering you in stumbled words of praise in a mixture of basic and mando’a.

The bed creaks beneath the force of your bodies, and at this point you’ve all but abandoned your attempts to keep quiet in favour of whispering just how much you love him and how good he makes you feel. You cling to his shoulders as he fucks you deeper into the mattress, holding onto him just as tightly as he does to you - it's a wordless promise that you aren’t going to disappear and abandon him, that you’re his as much as he’s yours.

“-Feel so good, so good to me cyare, always been so good to me-” his gritted-out praise tightens the coil in your stomach and all too soon you feel the familiar creep of another orgasm approaching you. His hands skim over your chest, stomach, face, before settling themselves with one cradling the back of your head whilst the other snakes downward to rub at your clit in tight little circles that have your eyes rolling back into your skull.

His praises fall off into a string of hurried curses as his hips begin to stutter to an erratic pace, however, his eyes never leave your own all the while. His jaw is clenched tightly, pulled taunt like the muscles in his arms as he angles his thrusts to drag against something delicious within your walls that has you mewling in delight. Despite the intensity of his actions, he’s still so gentle, so attentive in how he handles you. Ever vigilant to note each reaction you make to his touches and taking care not to jostle your still-healing body too violently.

“Fuuuck… Fuck! I love you - look so pretty like this, so perfect - just wanna stay like this forever.” His words are borderline incoherent now as he resigns to losing himself inside you, punctuated by rattling groans and a sigh that gets knotted in his throat as the emotion of the moment washes over him time and time again with each thrust.

The moment he dips down to moan into your open mouth as he sheathes himself completely to the hilt once more, you let go. You topple over the edge into a second orgasm that's so strong that it tears a silent scream from your lungs and forces fresh, hot tears of relief to gather in the corner of your eyes, body and mind wrecked in unison from the over stimulation of it all.

Kix follows you into climax straight after, succumbing to the way you tighten and flutter around him as he attempts to fuck you through your orgasm until your toes are curling against where they rest on his lower back. His hips falter and he all but whines as he stills inside you abruptly, eyes finally screwing themselves shut as he pulses within you and paints your insides in thick, hot ropes. He keeps your lower body close against him even after his breathing begins to even out and his cum has long since began to drip out of you from around his softening cock.

You feel thoroughly spent now, limbs heavy and head spinning with the force of the orgasm that had just claimed you. Kix is the first to shift properly, withdrawing from you slowly with a kiss and a low groan that you feel more than you hear. The medic takes a moment to give you a quick visual once over, but you swat at his shoulder in mock annoyance despite the fatigue clinging to your joints. He relents, flopping down beside you and taking up an embrace the mirrors the one you had awoken tangled within that same morning.

“I love you.” You swallow thickly around the words as you gaze at him, despite the lull of your afterglow, they come easily to you and you relish in how normal it feels to say them, to be held in his arms as if you were the only two souls awake in some private little galaxy you had created together. “I love you and I want to stay like this forever with you, Kix.”

His eyes hold a different tiredness now, this one is satisfied and soulful and free from worry - at least for a little while. You hope that this happiness lasts for him, he deserves it more than anyone else you know.

“I love you more, mesh’la.” His fingers reach up to brush against your cheek before pulling you in for a tender kiss, humming in contentment before parting slightly to mutter against your lips, “m’just sorry I don’t have much more to offer you than my charming looks, taste in brandy and my unofficial record for being the fastest at stitching up an incision in the whole GAR.”

You snort into his neck in response to the ridiculous quip before nuzzling your nose against his pulse. He squirms a little at the tickle of your breath against him and you make another point to remember the location of the sensitive spot for a later date.

“But honestly,” his tone drops to something more serious and your eyes wander back to lock with his own, a ghost of a frown pulling at your brow at the change, “you’ve always had to put up with a lot when it comes to me… you’re only going to have to deal with more where loving me is involved-”

“Kix, stop.” You’re firm as you catch his hand in your own, squeezing it to stress the finality of your statement before gracing his knuckles with another light kiss, “Nothing is easy at the moment and loving you is the one thing that's come so naturally to me. I don’t want anyone else because simple or not, they aren’t you.”

He smiles, wide and true before he begins to slowly encroach towards you to steal another kiss-

Until the shrill beep of your comlink shocks you both apart.

You shoot the device a glare, grumbling in annoyance as you untangle yourself from Kix to fish the offending item out from where your clothes lay in a crumpled pile on the floor. He chuckles into his fist and you give him a sideways glance in warning before raising the comlink closer to your face, winching slightly at the brightness flashing from the thin strip of its display.

“Hello?” The annoyance bleeds into your voice before you can think to stop it, a cold pang of panic shoots through you at the realisation that you forgot to check who it was contacting you before accepting the transmission.

“Good morning, am I right to assume that Kix is with you currently? It’s just that he was supposed to be present in the medical bay this morning to relieve me from my shift and yet here I am still - and I happened to bump into a trooper that claimed he saw you bundle him into your room yesterday evening.” It’s Officer Eir, and judging by the dryness coating his tone, he’s in a foul mood and more than aware of why Kix is late to tend to his duties despite the concern he had shown towards your lover the evening prior. You suppose the lack of sleep would do that to anyone.

Your cheeks automatically swelter with heat, quickly beginning to regret trusting the Medical Officer with the closeness of your bond with Kix. The man in question looks mortified at the circumstances he’s found himself in, but he still cockily mentions for you to tell Eir ‘hi’ despite fully knowing that the irritated clone could easily hear him over the line. You can envision Eir’s deadpan blink from all the way over in the medical ward.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I even wasted my time thinking about calling Kix first. I’m glad that you made sure he wasn’t alone last night, but need I remind him that stimshots are too important to waste on a hangover… or any other activity related fatigue that doesn't benefit the Republic.” You hear a sigh from over the comlink, the digital rendering making it sound crackled and disjointed - but it still makes you feel as though you’ve been singled out for committing a heinous crime all the same. “...I’ve taken the liberty of finding him a spare pair of scrubs, because I know he won’t want to risk returning to his bunk late while there are Jedi milling around.”

Kix raises his eyebrows thoughtfully, clearly touched that his fellow medic took the time to cover for him despite no doubt being desperate to lay down his head and rest.

“Um, yeah ok Eir I’ll… pass on that information to him - goodbye.”

You’ve never hung up on a call so quickly, and you hope to the Maker that no one had somehow managed to intercept your communication line. Kix still carries a bashful flush of his own, but it doesn’t stop him from grinning boyishly before another quip leaves his lips.

“Should’ve told him that I’ve already eaten breakfast too, bet that would have flustered him even more than you.”

The comment earns him a sweaty pillow to the face.

You still send him on his way with a ration bar all the same, taking a silent delight in how unsteady his initial movements are when he rushes to slip out of your door and down the hallway. He flashes you a wink and the hint of a loving gaze before slipping back into the role of a disciplined soldier once more as his long legs carry him away.

After he’s gone, you take a moment of private reflection to delight in how your spirit seems lighter and your heart feels fuller than it did yesterday.

Cyare.

You would never grow tired of hearing that fall from his lips.

#kix x reader #kix #kix reader insert #clone wars reader insert #star wars imagine #star wars reader insert #touch starved #WOO HERE IT IS #my first full length smut fic #mine #this got soft

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tayegi · 6 years

Text

Curiosity (m)

Belated gift for Taehyung’s bday. Written because TaeTae’s a sly little kid who would totally try to pull this shit irl.

Warning: smut

Word Count: 5,164

Hey, ___. This reddit post says that a vagina feels like the inside of your cheek. Is that true?" Taehyung casually asks in the midst of your study session.

You spit out your drink all over yourself in surprise, "Wh-what?!"

The redhead casually looks up from the textbook sprawled across his lap, "The inside of your cheek. You know, here," he hooks a finger inside his mouth to demonstrate.

Your face heats at his extremely tactile demonstration, "I know what that means, you idiot! I just—I don't know what you're asking me this!"

"Why not?" he asks with a blank look on his face, "As someone who has a vagina, shouldn't you know best?"

"I—I," you splutter, embarrassed beyond belief, "I don't know, okay? I've never thought about it!"

"Well, then think about it," he snorts, "Is it true?"

Self-conscious, you turn away from him before carefully sticking a finger into your mouth to prod at the inside of your cheek. Sure enough, the warm, moist flesh feels familiar, but there's something missing… "It's close, but not the same," you say as you remove your finger from your mouth.

"Really?" Taehyung says, eyebrows raising with interest, "How so?"

"I dunno," you mumble as you poke your tongue in your cheek with a frown, "It's just… not as soft, I guess?"

Taehyung's eyes widen in a way that makes you flustered, "What? So it's even better than that?!"

"Oh god, Tae… Why are you asking me this?" you groan as you throw an arm over your eyes, "Can't you just fuck a girl and figure it out for yourself?!"

"I want to," he sighs deeply, "But it never works out! Girls just don't like me, I guess."

You gape in disbelief at his ridiculous statement, "Don't be stupid. Look at your face!"

He strokes his jaw with a grin, "It is pretty nice, isn't it?"

"Yeah, dumbass. Just flash that pretty little face of yours at anything in a skirt, and I guarantee you that that skirt's dropping in a millisecond."

"Hey, ___. Aren't you wearing a skirt right now…?" He asks, his tone thick with insinuation.

You pause for a moment to think through your words before responding, "Don't you start again…"

He sighs deeply and sets down his book to flop onto the bed, "I'm just so curious!" he groans, voice muffled by the pillows, "This is everything I've fantasized about since the moment I hit puberty! Now that I'm in my twenties, I'm fucking dying of curiosity!"

You put down your book as well to stare at him. With his lean, tan skin and perfectly symmetrical features, Kim Taehyung is without doubt the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. How is it possible that he's such a stir-crazy virgin at his age?

"Alright," you say with a sigh, "Let's go."

Taehyung peeks from the mountain of blankets covering him with interest, "You'll let me finger you then?"

"What?! No!" you screech, whole body recoiling with shock.

He chuckles in response, "You're gonna wake up the neighbors, babe."

"Ugh! How can you even think that? I was just saying that we should go to a bar and pick up a girl or something! Geez!"

Taehyung huffs with disappointment, "Why bother when I have a girl in my room right here?"

You rub your suddenly aching temples, "Taehyung… Will you please explain to me the sudden interest in getting in my pants?"

"Because I'm horny and curious!" he groans, rolling around in the bed like a little boy throwing a tantrum, "How can I even fantasize and jerk off properly when I don't know what a woman's body feels like?"

"Well, I can try to describe it to you, if you'd like," you offer, trying to resist the urge to laugh. He just looks so silly throwing a fit like that.

"Sure," he says in a dejected tone.

"It's really not that abstract of a concept," you begin, "It's just warm… and tight… and really really soft. Especially if you get a girl wet enough. Then it's super slick and fluid. And not quite like a mouth. Cum is a million times wetter than saliva. That's why it's nature's lube, after all."

Taehyung stares at you from the bed with dark eyes, "Oh… That sounds…" he licks his lips, "Good."

You resist the urge to shiver at the way he voices that word. "Yeah," you absentmindedly agree, "It is… well, granted I don't have a dick to feel how good it is, but I can only imagine…"

"Fuck," Taehyung curses as he beats his fist in frustration. And is it only your imagination or do his hips roll against the mattress for a split second…? "God, that sounds hot. I want that so fucking bad. All I've ever had is my dry ass hand… Just one time. I'm dying to feel it just once."

Your mouth grows dry and you lick your lips for moisture, "Should we make you a tinder?"

"___..." he murmurs your name as he slowly rolls over on the bed to face you, "Baby…"

With his hooded dark eyes and his fiery hair falling into his eyes, he looks like a demon incarnated. You're tempted like Eve before the lure of the apple, but somehow, you manage to resist, "I'm not taking your virginity, Tae, so you can just forget about it."

"I'm not asking you to. I just want you to sit on my dick once, okay? That's it."

"How is that not taking your virginity then?" you ask, suspicious.

"I don't consider that to be real sex," he says with a snort, "You wouldn't consider one stroke a handjob, would you? Same logic applies here."

Still, you chew your bottom lip, indecisive, "I don't know, Tae…"

"You told me once that you were attracted to me."

You flush at the memory, cursing your alcohol-addled brain for that one moment of weakness last semester, "Yes, but we're just friends. I don't want to change anything."

"Nothing will change between us," Taehyung insists, "We've done way weirder things together… Remember when I held you off the balcony as you peed during Jin's New Year's Eve party last year?"

Your lips twitch at the reminder, "I really didn't think you'd be strong enough to Simba me like that!"

"Yeah, but I did. And we're still friends after that! So I don't see how one tiny little stroke of your pussy is going to change anything."

You stare at him, "Taehyung… Are you actually serious about this?"

He stares back unblinkingly, "Dead serious."

Neither of you say anything for a period of time as you gravely consider one anything. Taehyung's gaze is steely and more focused than you've ever seen it. Finally, the moment is broken when you break eye contact with an exasperated sigh, "Fine. Let's do it."

Taehyung's eyes light up and he instantly bounds upright in bed, "Really?! ___, you are the best!"

Then, before you can react, he suddenly rushes over to practically tackle you to the floor. "Oomph!" you grunt as the air is quite literally knocked from your lungs, "Get off of me, you oaf!"

But he simply laughs and covers your face in kisses, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" he chants, "You are the best!"

"You're only getting one stroke, and that's it, okay?" you pull back to wag a finger in his face in a threatening manner, "If you try to fuck me, I swear to god, Kim Taehyung…"

"I won't," he promises, "I know you think of me as a stupid kid with no self-control. But I'm really not like that anymore!"

"Whatever you say," you roll your eyes, "But if you try anything, I won't hesitate to punch you in the face."

"Sounds good to me," he says as he affectionately rubs his face against your neck like a cat, "Now can we get started or what?"

"God, you're so impatient," you groan as you manage to pull him off of you with no shortage of difficulty. "Just lie down on the bed so we can get this over with."

"Okay!" he chimes in a singsong voice as he cheerfully obeys. "Like this?" he asks as he hauls himself against the headboards.

"Yeah. That's fine," you say, but hesitate at the foot of the bed, suddenly filled with dread.

"Whatcha waiting for?" Taehyung cocks his head to the side, "Come here and take a seat on my lap," he says, patting his thigh for emphasis.

"Oh god, this is probably a huge mistake," you groan as you slowly do as you're told, gingerly climbing onto the bed and swinging your legs on either side of his hips.

"Nonsense!" he happily says, "We can only get closer after this! Now, should we make out a bit first or-?"

A hand slapped over his mouth stops him in his tracks, "Taehyung." You growl in a warning tone.

He chuckles against your palm, "Sorry," he mumbles in a muffled tone.

You roll your eyes as you slowly remove your hand, "Ok, get yourself hard so we can get this over with."

"I'm already hard."

"…what?"

He at least has the tact to look embarrassed, "I'm excited, okay? My penis has been waiting for this for the last decade or so! How can I not be prepared?!"

"Ugh, gross."

"It's natural and beautiful!" he insists.

"Ew, whatever. Just hurry up and whip it out already."

"Wait," he says, stopping you with a hand on your wrist before you can grab for him, "I know I'm inexperienced, but don't we have to prepare you or something first? Are you wet enough?"

"Hmm… let me check," you say, sliding a hand under your skirt to fumble along the crotch of your underwear, "Ah, good thinking. I'm not quite there yet… Give me a minute or two."

It's a bit awkward touching yourself with Taehyung staring at you with huge, starstruck eyes, but there's something strangely sensual about the unabashed hunger in his gaze. Quicker than you could've imagined, you're suddenly aroused enough to touch yourself directly, without the barrier of your underwear to shield you from your sensitive flesh. Your mouth hangs open in a silent moan as you circle your clit before sliding your fingers inside of you.

Taehyung licks his lips as he stares at the tantalizing motions of your hand under your skirt. "___..." he whispers in a hoarse voice, "Can I do that for you?"

You pause at his bold request. But what'd you expect from meddlesome little Kim Taehyung? You exhale slowly through your nose. This probably isn't a good idea… But his hands are so beautiful that they take your breath away. From even where they casually rest on top of the sheets, they look like pure artistry; long, thin musician fingers with large palms that would feel so good on your body.

You sigh again, "Fine. But be gentle, okay? I don't want you to squash the life out of me. I've had enough of that clumsy groping in high school!"

Taehyung gives you a look, "I might be a virgin, but I'm not an idiot, ___. I can be gentle."

"Alright… But if you poke me, I'll be too sore to sit on your dick," you warn him.

His eyes widen in horror, "Oh god, okay. I'll do my best."

You smirk to yourself at his sudden obedience, even as you grab his hand to bring it under your skirt. Slowly, you move your underwear to the side so that his fingers brush against your heat.

Taehyung flinches in surprise, "Oh… This is… weird."

Your lips quirk at his reaction, "Not really what you expected? It's just like a mound of weird, fleshy meat, huh?"

"Kinda… but not really… You're so soft… and warm. Wow." After a few seconds of guidance from you, Taehyung's hand begins to move of its own accord, and you nearly jump out of your skin as his fingers accidentally brush against your clit. He retreats his hand at once, "Shit, did I hurt you?"

You soften at the look of concern on his face, "No, not at all," you reassure him, "It's just that you touched my clit."

"…Oh?"

"And it felt really good."

"Oh." Realization floods his face, and he jumps to repeat the motion over and over.

You close your eyes for a second, relishing the sensation of his fingers rubbing surprisingly nimble circles around your clit, before you quickly snap back into action. "Th-that's enough," you mutter, biting back a moan when an experimental pinch of your clit between his fingers has your stomach flipping with pleasure. "I should be wet enough. You can finger me now."

Taehyung looks lost for a moment, "I… I… don't really know how…"

The blush that suffuses his cheeks is so adorable that you forgo the teasing for once. "Let me demonstrate," you say, reaching under your skirt to grab his fingers again. This time, you only take his index finger and slowly drag it over to your entrance.

The redhead swallows hard as he feels your wet heat. "___..." he murmurs your name.

You smile at him in response, "Go slow, okay? Don't shove it all in at once. That hurts."

"O-okay," he stammers. Then, taking a deep breath, he follows your instructions.

With the first prod of his finger, he can't enter you. Bewildered, he looks at you for guidance, but you simply laugh, "It's okay, Tae. Use a bit more force."

He nods his understanding before doing as you instruct. "O-oh," he gasps as he finally breaks through the barrier and meets the molten hot interior that instantly sucks him in. "Oh my fucking god…"

You bite your bottom lip to keep from laughing at the expression on his face, "How does it feel, Tae?"

"Reddit lied," he growls, "This feels nothing like the inside of a cheek… This feels so… hot… and soft… and tight."

Your pussy clenches at the way he practically moans the last word and Taehyung's eyes widen at the sudden suctioning feeling around his finger.

"Fuck, how are you so tight?! There is no way my dick will fit inside of you."

"There's only one way to find out," you say with a wink as you tug on his wrist to pull his finger out of you. "Lie down on your back, baby."

"Wait, but I wasn't done preparing you," he says, alarmed, "I barely even fingered you!"

The look of concern on his face is so endearing that you can't resist swooping down to plant a kiss on his nose, "I'm ready, Tae. Don't worry."

"What?" he frowns, "Really?"

"Yeah, can't you tell how wet I am?" You ask as you pull his hand up to his face.

Taehyung's eyes grow round as he takes in the sticky fluid that covers his index finger. "Oh…" he tentatively gives his finger a lick, "Hmm…"

Heat fills your face at the erotic gesture, "It's more of an acquired taste," you defend yourself.

But he cocks his head to the side in confusion, "What are you talking about, ___? You taste delicious."

At that, all the heat in your face abruptly trickles down to fill the pit of your stomach instead. If you weren't sure before, then there's no doubt in your mind now that you are undeniably aroused. You take a deep breath to clear your mind, then smile down at him.

"I'm clean and on the pill, but we can still use a condom if you'd like."

"No," he says at once, "Let's not."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at that. What a typical man. "Okay," you say as you push him flat against the pillows before climbing up to straddle him, "Last chance to back out, Taehyung. I promise I won't judge you."

"Are you serious? Fuck no. I'll die if I have to wait another second!"

His enthusiasm is surprisingly endearing. You shake your head at his cuteness before ducking down to kiss his cheek, "You're going to have an instinctual urge to thrust once I put you in," you warn him as you reach down to undo his belt and zipper, "No matter what, you've gotta resist that urge, okay? Or else I'll kick your ass."

"G-got it," he says, voice trembling slightly when your hands brush against his bulge.

You take a second to tease him with little strokes over the fabric of his underwear, thoroughly enjoying the way he shakes and groans, before you slip your thumbs under the waistband to free his erection, "Now, don't forget that you only get one stroke, okay? I'm only sitting down once, then pulling off, and that's it. So don't you even think about—what the fuck?!" you gasp, lecture instantly forgotten when his bare erection pops into view.

Taehyung self-consciously stares down at his naked length, "Wh-what? Is there something wrong?"

But you can't respond for a second, staring at his dick with your jaw hanging. "I… I—Kim Taehyung, why the fuck didn't you warn me that you were hung like a fucking horse?!"

He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, "I told you it wouldn't fit."

"You know, there are girls who would lose their fucking minds trying to get at a monster dick like this," you absentmindedly comment as you attempt to curl your fingers around his length. You're dismayed to find that your fingers can barely touch.

Taehyung's breath hitches, "God, I hope you're one of those girls…"

You chuckle softly as you give him an experimental stroke. Taehyung doubles over at the contact as though he's been punches in the stomach. "Jesus," he wheezes.

"What's wrong, TaeTae?" You ask him innocently, even as you begin to jerk him off, picking up the leaking precum at the head of his cock to rub all over his length.

The redhead throws his head back with a deep groan, "Fuck… if you keep doing that, you're gonna make me cum before I get to feel your pussy."

"Virgins are so cute," you giggle, before slowing your pace until you're only skimming his length with the tips of your fingers, "Has anyone touched you before?"

"A few times," he admits, "But mostly at parties, when I was drunk off my ass and couldn't feel or remember anything. Nothing like this."

You hum in response, admiring the way his dick twitches in your hand, as though trying to jump closer to your touch, "Is this what you expected?"

"Not at all," he says at once, "I've tried everything before… Jerking off with my left hand, sitting on my hand until I lost all feeling in it, but nothing compares to this… Fuck, you're barely touching me right now, but why does it feel so fucking good?"

His voice pitches at the end of his sentence, making your core clench with need. "Somehow, I feel like I've corrupted your innocence," you sigh as you drop his cock, making his eyes shoot open with shock.

"Ah, ___," he whines, "Don't stop. Come on, babe. I'm so fucking horny I could die."

"You're such a greedy, spoiled little kid," you lightly scold him as you rise to your knees to hook your now thoroughly soaked underwear to the side and position yourself, "Wouldn't you rather have my pussy?"

Realization dawns on his face. "Yes, please!" He chimes, eagerly bobbing his head up and down.

"You're just lucky that you're so cute," you say as you wrap a hand to keep him steady as you press his head against your entrance. "Now do you want me to go slow or sit down all in one go?"

Taehyung is on the verge of hyperventilating as he stares at you with eyes popping out of his skull. "Hngg, I… I dunno… ___, there's no way I'm gonna fit."

You shush him with a finger pressed against his lips, "Your monster dick is impressive, I'll give you that. But I'm tougher than you think. So do you want it slow or—?"

"Slow," he says at once, "I want to remember every detail."

Your lips twitch, "For that spank bank material, huh?"

He flashes you a boxy smile, "You know me too well."

"That, I do," you snicker, "Now sit still and let me satisfy your curiosity, okay?"

Taehyung eagerly nods, lip caught between his teeth as he watches your every move with hawk-like eyes, "You can stop at any time," he tells you, "I don't want to hurt you."

His concern is silly, but undeniably sweet, and you swoop down to give him another kiss, this time on the corner of his mouth. "If you continue to be so nice to me, I might be tempted to spoil you," you warn him as you rub the swollen red head of his cock against your folds.

Taehyung's breathing stutters when it catches against your entrance. "I… I don't think that'd be a bad thing."

Your next kiss lands directly on his lips, making him jerk with surprise. But you push him down with a hand flat against his chest when he attempts to rise for another taste. "Don't you dare thrust."

"I won't," he promises, teeth digging into his bottom lip as you continue to rub his sensitive tip against your soft, wet folds. But you never allow him inside, simply allowing your wetness to soak him, tempting him with your heat until Taehyung feels frustrated enough to cry. And only then do you begin to push him in.

At first, you meet resistance, but when you take a breath to force yourself to relax, you're able slide the head of his cock in… And then, feeling particularly sadistic, you pause to assess his reaction.

He does not disappoint.

"Ah, ___!" he yelps your name, hand shooting up to dig into your thigh, "Why did you stop?"

"I just wanted to check and make sure that you're okay," you lie through your teeth, "How does it feel?"

"Good," he says at once, teeth clenched to hold back a moan, "So good, fuck. I can't believe how soft you are. It's like fucking velvet, but so much smoother, and tight and—ugh, fuck!"

At his explicit description, you can't help but involuntarily tighten over him, making him cry out in pleasure. "I told you Reddit was wrong," you inform him, flinching slightly when his blunt nails dig into your skin hard enough to leave marks.

"Fuck, ___. Please don't stop."

He's shaking so hard underneath you that the bed is practically vibrating. Sweat has soaked through his thin shirt, plastering it to his chest like a second skin. You've barely done anything and his self-control is already hanging by a thread. It's so unexpectedly sexy that your stomach clenches.

"Alright," you say, leaning down to give him another kiss that he barely registers, all his attention focused like a laser on the wet heat enveloping his cock. You affectionately brush his sweaty red hair off of his forehead before slowly lowering yourself down another inch, wincing slightly as his thick cock tears you open.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Taehyung chants over and over as you swirl your hips to allow him to feel every inch of you. Your slow pace is excruciating, making your thighs scream with pain, but it's worth it for the way it makes Taehyung tense up like he's on the verge of bursting out of his own skin.

You're about halfway down when a sudden cramp makes you pause with a wince. "Ah, Tae, why are you so fucking big?" you say with a breathless laugh, "I'm going to be so sore in the morning."

He gnaws his lip, clearly torn between allowing you offering you respite like a gentleman and shoving you all the way down. Instead, he settles for a compromise, "I-I'm sorry, ___," he murmurs as he massages your thigh with his large hands, "I know it hurts, but can you try to take a little more? Please?"

The slight tremor in his voice gives away his thinly veiled desperation, no matter how he tries to play it cool. You sigh deeply, feigning reluctance, "Alright… But only because you asked nicely," you say as you sink down another inch or two.

Taehyung whimpers in response, unable to formulate coherent sentences as he scrunches his eyes shut and concentrates on not cumming too early, "Fuck."

"I'm almost there," you warn him, pressing hard against his chest to keep him still, "I know that every instinct in your body is probably screaming at you to thrust, huh?"

"Y-yes," he moans, "Like you wouldn't believe."

Your insides warm at the choked-up quality of his voice. For a moment, you're almost tempted to allow him to have his way with you. But a promise is a promise. And you can't let Taehyung go around thinking that he can get away with everything with that cute little face of his. He has to learn some discipline. And who better than you to teach him?

"Alright, I'm going to sit down now… Whatever you do, do NOT move, okay?"

He can only whine in response, "I-I'll try. Fuck, this is so good."

You smile to yourself as you slowly sink down to stretch over the last inch of him, until you're fully seated on his thighs. Then you pause for a breath, taking the moment to drink in his expression. His tan skin is flushed red, neck veins straining with exertion, and sweat soaking his shirt in dark patches. His thick cock already feels great stretching you out like this, but you know it's a million times better for him. This little virgin has never felt anything but his own hand before, and nothing like the wet, tight, burning hot velvet of your pussy. No wonder he looks like he's about to lose his fucking mind and explode out of his skin from a single, measly stroke. You're almost curious about how he'd react if you fucked him properly…

"Okay, that's enough. I'm gonna—"

"Wait!" Taehyung panicks, grabbing you by the hips hard enough to bruise when you try to lift off of him.

Your blood runs cold at the strength you feel in his grip. He's underneath you right now, seemingly at your mercy. But this sudden display of brute strength makes you realize how wrong you are. At any second, he could flip over to slam you on your back, holding you down, no matter how you struggle, with minimal effort. He might look delicate and weak, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Out of curiosity, you trail a hand over the arms caged around your waist, and your mouth fills with saliva at the bulging, steely muscle you find there. It's so unexpectedly sexy that a trickle of arousal slides out of you as your core involuntarily flexes around him again.

Taehyung throws his head back with a deep, guttural moan that sends chills down your spine. "This feels too fucking good. I can't even believe how good this feels. I would do anything you wanted if you let me fuck you."

Concerned by his statement, you glance down at him, then flinch in surprise when you find him already staring at you, his eyes so dark with hunger that you're surprised he hasn't already devoured you whole. Every single muscle in his body is tensed, with veins bulging in his arms and the back of his hands. You can't imagine how much self-control it's taking him to remain still. All you know is that the pain can't be short of excruciating.

You tear your gaze away from his tortured expression, fully aware that the more you look at him, the more tempted you'll be to give in.

"This is not what we agreed on," you gently remind him as you begin to lift off of him.

A whimper of utter despair pulls from the back of his throat as he feels the warmth recede from his length. For a moment, you're terrified that he might shove you back down on his length. The bruising grip on your waist certainly makes that a possibility. But to your utmost relief (and slight disappointment), he allows you to retreat.

Feeling the strange desire to reward him for his good behavior, you allow him one last squeeze of your pussy around just his sensitive, leaking head, before you pull off entirely. At once, you feel uncomfortably empty, like your pussy is caving in on itself, but Taehyung is on the brink of tears.

"Fuck, I should not have asked you to do that," he growls as he impatiently wraps his hand around his painfully hard erection.

Your mouth hangs open at the sight of him jerking off so boldly in front of you. "T-tae," you gasp as you fumble off of the bed, "What are you…?"

"It's like opening Pandora's box," he continues, undeterred, "I shouldn't have been so damn nosy. I can never go back to how things were before now that I know how good it is."

You watch him angrily stroke himself with round eyes. Only Kim Taehyung can be confident enough to masturbate in front of another person with no shame whatsoever. You lick your lips and force yourself to look at his face instead, "Well, you know what they say: curiosity killed the cat."

"But satisfaction brought it back," he adds, eyes as dark as coals as he stares at you unblinkingly.

You swallow tightly and drop your gaze to the floor, feeling uncommonly flustered, "I guess we'll have to make you a tinder then?" you joke, trying to laugh it off, "Now that you know how good pussy is, I imagine you're gonna want the real thing."

"What are you talking about?" he snorts, "You really think it's just pussy that's got me going?"

Your eyes snap up to meet his in surprise, "Wh-what?"

He scoffs again, "It's not just pussy, but your pussy. Now that I've got a taste of how good sex with you could be, do you really think I can go without?"

Your mouth goes dry as you gape at him like a fish out of water. Could he really be saying what you think he's saying…? "I… I don't know what to say."

"You can't honestly be surprised," he laughs, "You must've known how badly I've wanted you since day one."

You lick your dry lips as you try to collect your wits and approach this logically. But all you can think about is how good he looks propped up against the headboards with his hand wrapped around his thick red cock.

"Ah, fuck it," you growl as you abruptly rip your shirt off, "I guess I'm taking your virginity tonight after all, you little punk."

Taehyung beams so brightly, it hurts to look at him directly. "Thank you, reddit!"

A/N: Please don’t ask about sequels! Thanks so much :)

#taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung #bts fanfic #v smut #for some reason whenever im stressed with finals i write pwp like this lol #like stress relief #good times #curiosity

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nightglider124 · 6 years

Text

A Present for Ava <3

Omg, I am shit because this is three days late asdfghjkl i got busy and was trying to get this done for you gurl and finally, we’re here XD

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY RIDE OR DIE; BEST BESTIE A GAL COULD HAVE, @fireflyxrebel !!!! Tis belated but at least I wished it on your actual bday lmao!

I hope you had an amazeballs birthday because if anyone deserves it; it is you, Ava. I hope you stuffed your face with cake and all the good stuff because if you can’t on your birthday, when can you??

You is my actual fave around these parts and so, I wrote you a little BBRae somethin-something which I hope you like. I am unused to writing them as a main so hopefully this is a oneshot where I’ve hopefully done them justice? I don’t know, I just pray you like it XD.

Sorry it took so long gurl but again, happy birthday and I hope it was kick-ass. Ily! <3 <3 <3

Snow

A bitter chill clung to the wisps of the wind in the night as darkness shrouded the city with the exception of a few blinking lights dotted amongst buildings, houses and skyscrapers. Jump was quietly winding down for yet another winter evening; not quite silent yet but slowly working its way towards the tranquility of midnight.

The tower was mostly unlit, save for a window or two on the higher levels. A dim glow washed over the walls of Ops, creating composure with a volume to match.

His mouth hung open, just a fraction as he trained his deep, forest green eyes on the TV screen before them. The man on screen dressed from head to toe in black garments followed behind the unsuspecting woman, slyly pulling a blade from inside his jacket, ready to strike at any given moment.

Gar tilted his head, attention on the predictable scene of the horror movie that they’d decided to throw on since there were none of the others around to squabble over what to watch.

There was a shift in movement from beside him and he briefly glanced over at his violet haired beauty, her dark eyes cast down at the novel in her hands. Gar quirked a small smile and his chest gave a thud, his heart skipping a beat like it always did when he looked at her; really looked at her and saw Raven for the enchantress she truly was.

Although, he’d likely get a smack for ever uttering something so cheesy but that didn’t stop him from thinking it to himself.

“You’re staring again...” She murmured, raising an eyebrow but not yet removing her focus from the words on the pages of her book.

Gar grinned, his fang poking out from beneath his lip. He nudged her shoulder and leaned in, dropping a kiss to her pale cheek.

Raven refused to let the blush that was threatening to spill onto her china like skin, from spreading like the wildfire it was. She already felt the heat rising but swallowed discreetly, stubbornly quelling the effect that grin had on her.

“I have a pretty sight to stare at.” He told her, waggling his eyebrows in her direction, “Can’t blame me; it’s technically your fault.”

She bit down on the inside of her cheek and really tried to maintain that air of nonchalance that she played so well but knew, deep down, her resolve was slipping.

Slowly, a small smirk appeared against her cupid bow lips, “Idiot.”

He blew a kiss at her, “You love it.”

Raven smiled, a happy gleam in her eyes as she shook her head at her boyfriend’s antics. Gar matched her expression and turned to nuzzle her neck, just enough to draw a deliciously startled gasp from her.

He pulled away, that look of achievement on his face which Raven offered a mock glare to. Gar’s high pitched chuckle met her ears and she shuddered, always questioning how he managed to give her feelings like these.

“This is an okay horror movie, y’know.” Gar commented, folding his arms over his chest as he resumed his watchful eye on the TV.

Raven nodded, finishing the sentence she was on before she closed the book with a soft thud and carefully placed it upon the coffee table. She sat back and instinctively leaned in towards Gar who immediately draped his arm over the back of the sofa, creating the perfect crevice to snuggle up into if she so wished but he never pushed. He gave the option and allowed her to make that choice.

Raven was still an enigma, even after knowing her for so long and even dating her for the past 3 years. However, he knew there was an abundance more than met the eye. Sometimes she craved affection and touch and attention; it was rarer but he couldn’t deny that he loved when she found herself needing that from him. Other times, she would stay distant with a few small smiles thrown his way but in that quiet way of hers that he still loved.

She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes on the screen now too.

“Is it another typical slasher?” She asked in a monotone,

“No...”

“Oh?”

“Okay, it is but it’s really good!” He squeaked, turning to beam at her.

Raven playfully rolled her eyes but gave him a ghost of a smile before she shook her head. He was such a child sometimes; a happy little puppy, getting excited over the little things but she knew, in her heart of hearts, she wouldn’t trade him for anything.

“If you say so.” Raven mused,

“I do say so but...” He glanced at her, that pleading look that she was almost certain he had co conspired to create with Starfire. They both used it when they really wanted something, “We can still watch Elf after, right?”

She smirked, “I thought you were all for horror?”

“I am but... it’s only a week til Christmas and I wanna get all festive, Rae.” He explained,

One week until Christmas and for once, Gar was completely prepared. He’d bought all his gifts and even wrapped them with Starfire’s help of course; she loved this time of year and always took the responsibility of wrapping presents wherever she was given permission.

His girlfriend’s presents were inevitably what he set out to buy first. He’d bought her the regular stuff he knew she liked and enjoyed receiving; new novels, candles, herbal tea gift sets; all of those types of gifts, she asked for.

But, he’d managed to be sneaky this year and buy her something she wouldn’t be expecting. In recent years, she’d let her hair grow long, past her shoulders to the point she had it as long as Starfire’s had been back when they were merely teenagers.

So, in accordance, he had stumbled across a gothic boutique in central Jump which sold combs. Gar had found a matching pair of obsidian hair combs with small raven detailing on them. They had a slight shimmer to them but not enough where she would be put off; at least he hoped she wouldn’t be.

Upon seeing them, Gar knew he had to have them for her and he was praying that she loved them.

He had some confidence in his soul though; showing them to the surrogate sister of his heart proved comforting. She’d squealed and practically bounced on the spot.

Raven blinked at him but nodded, “We can watch it but if you try making me the spaghetti and maple syrup thing he makes in the movie again, I will burn the disc.”

He flashed that toothy grin of his, “I make no promises. He’s onto something with that recipe.”

She pulled a face of utter disgust, considering the first time he tried to do that which ended with Raven subsequently agreeing and gagging only seconds later. It tasted horrific and she was a terrible liar so she couldn’t even tell him it was good to spare his feelings.

Gar had merely chuckled and kissed her temple, already at the kettle, brewing a nice cup of steaming earl grey to rid her of the bad taste his concoction has left in her mouth.

Still, it was a funny memory to think back on.

Raven smiled quietly to herself as his eyes found the TV screen again, her hand resting just over his heart. She closed her eyes, letting the rhythmic thumping soothe her.

The changeling exhaled in content and leaned back against the couch cushions, enjoying the time being spent alone together. It was nice to live in a house with the team, even after all this time but sometimes, a night alone for just the two of them is all they really craved.

Cyborg and Bee had been down in the garage for a solid few hours, working on upgrades for the T-Car that Vic had insisted his baby needed if she was to survive missions throughout the harsh winter weather.

But, Gar had assumed the ‘working’ had stopped a while ago if the soft jazz music drifting up from the ground floor was anything to go by.

Dick and Starfire were in bed, having managed to get Mar’i down for her bedtime early for once. She was bursting with excitable energy so it made nightly routines difficult when all she wanted to do was float and play with her family and toys.

They’d claimed they were going to sleep but Gar could hazard a guess at what they were more likely doing within their bedroom. They didn’t get much time for themselves as a couple either now, with their little bundle of joy around.

A single moment of peace and quiet for them was utter bliss and Dick and Starfire tried hard to make the most of those moments so the shape shifter couldn’t really blame the parents if they were trying to connect in that way.

As the couple lounged together on the sofa in comfortable silence, a startling gasp from Gar roused Raven from her lethargic position against him. She bolted upright, snapping her head to him,

“What? What’s wrong?” She fretted, her eyes sweeping over him to check.

His face was not one of fear or of panic however; it was one of barely concealed glee.

“Rae! Look!” He hissed, jumping to his feet and scurrying over to the gigantic windows adorning the back wall of the main room. He pointed outside and she had to squint, not having a clue what he was babbling about.

“What?” She asked, pulling her cloak around her as she stood up.

“It’s snowing!” He breathed, his emerald eyes sparkling with exhilaration,

“So?” Raven shrugged,

“Like a lot! It’s gonna settle fast!”

“Again... so what?”

“Raaae!” He whined, rolling his eyes at her not connecting the dots with that beautiful brain of hers.

“What, Gar?”

“We have to go out in it!” He squeaked,

Raven’s eyes went wide and she flinched beneath her cloak, “What?! Are you insane? It’s 2am. We’ll catch our deaths.”

He turned to look at her, smirking as he wriggled his eyebrows, “I’m sure you can heal us before it gets to that, babe.”

Raven blushed at the pet name, as she always tended to but she folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes, “Gar-”

“Please, Rae? Snow is my favorite and it’s never like this in the mornings! It’s all slushy or iced over and no fun.”

She watched him, that buzzing aura, similar to that of childlike wonder being the only energy she could currently feel. It washed over her; calmed her emotions and allowed her to be more relaxed in what he was suggesting.

Her silly boy was an oddity and a rarity.

Raven chewed her lip before she shook her head and sighed, “10 minutes on the roof and then we come back inside. Got it?”

“Definitely!” Gar vowed, snatching her hand and pulling her along for the ride as he bounded out of the main room in the direction of the stairs leading to the roof.

When they reached the top of the staircase, Gar threw open the metal door whilst Raven watched with dry amusement as his expression softened into one of pure awe.

As a particularly frozen gust of wind passed by them, Raven tugged her cloak around her body so tight; her fingers went a light shade of white. Garfield, on the other hand, hopped out onto the fresh, powdered snow that lay across the rooftop like a blanket, leaving a trail of sneaker imprints.

He turned around in a circle and stuck his tongue out, trying to taste the falling snowflakes. That boyish grin of his was plastered across his lips, looking extremely satisfied each time he heard the snow crunch beneath his own feet.

“Look at all the snow, Rae!” He chirped, crouching down to leave an indent of his hand print in the bed of snow.

“Mhm. It’s great. And cold. Can we go back inside now?” She asked, tonelessly,

Gar rolled his eyes at her before he jogged back to where she still stood in the doorway. He smirked and wriggled his fingers at her,

“C’mon… y’know you want to.”

She pulled a face, “I really don’t.”

“Please? Just for a while and then we’ll go inside. I promise.” He glanced at his wrist to mimic a watch, “You said 10 minutes, remember?”

“Gar, it’s freezing…” She muttered, kicking some snow away from the door.

“I can warm you up.” He replied in a smooth guy voice,

She gave him a look but couldn’t help the corners of her lips quirking upwards into a smile.

Gar beamed and gently tugged on her hand, “That’s my Rae.”

She sighed and followed him out onto the roof, glancing down at her boots that were already covered with snow. Raven inwardly cursed at the things she did for this boy of hers; 2am and here she was, standing on the roof of the tower with him, just to play in the snow.

“Why are you so amazed by this, Gar?” She wondered aloud as she noticed him bent over and rolling up the body of a snowman, “You’ve seen snow plenty of times.”

“I know…” He chuckled, “And I always get this excited; just none of you ever see it. I know the guys would make fun if they did but… this time of year… I don’t know… acting like a kid and getting excited over the little things… it just seems right, y’know?”

Raven watched him, feeling the drop in his euphoria as he continued talking.

“I know it’s stupid but… well, none of us really had a normal childhood so I guess… I kinda try to make up for it now, like freaking out over snow… I know I probably don’t- Oof!” He was cut off as a snowball hit him on the shoulder, the snow splattering over the rest of his arm, the already melted thing dribbling down his skin.

He flinched, completely off guard and spun around to see his smirking empath, already holding another snowball encased in her magic. She raised an eyebrow, “Well, we now have 8 minutes. I suppose you better make the most of it.”

A slow, wide grin spread over his lips and he furrowed his eyebrows in determination, “Aw, you’re so going down, babe!”

“Uh huh. We’ll see.” She remarked, letting the snowball fly as he ducked to start building up his own artillery.

They continued the snow assault on one another, quiet laughter bubbling up into the night sky as they chased each other across the frosted roof. Raven didn’t even notice that they had been out there for 30 minutes rather than her stern 10 until Gar sniffled and sneezed several times in a row.

Pausing, she dropped her snowball to the ground and frowned at him with worry shining in her eyes. He snuffed and rubbed his nose as she stalked closer to him.

He offered her a smile and shrugged, “I’m good-”

“No you’re not.”

“Rae, I swear; I’m fine!” He squeaked, not wanting to end their fun in the snow; he loved so much when she allowed herself to be free and just enjoy herself, no matter how silly or kid like the activity was.

She allowed her hand to glow a periwinkle blue and pressed it to his chest, silencing him.

Raven clicked her tongue and her brows knitted together, “You’re getting sick.”

“Rae-“

“You should have grabbed a coat.”

He laughed as she grabbed his shoulders and turned him towards the door, “Raven-“

“C’mon… we’ve been out here way longer than 10 minutes anyway.” She told him,

Gar clicked his fingers, “Aww, I hoped you wouldn’t notice.” He mumbled, whilst Raven rolled her eyes at him and led him down the stairs, closing the roof door behind her.

The changeling continued to sniffle and scrub at his red tipped nose as they made their way back down into the main room. As they crossed the threshold, they froze at the sight of another person in the kitchen.

“What’re you guys doing?” Dick asked, his blue eyes narrowed at them in utter bewilderment,

He stood by the counter wearing a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt with a glass of water in hand.

“Uh…” Raven thought for an answer but came up empty so Gar saved them with the truth.

Taking her hand in his own, Gar grinned at their friend and leader, “It snowed, dude!”

Dick briefly glanced over at the windows, noticing the thick snowflakes falling and sticking to the glass before melting and rolling down the panes.

“Oh yeah… so it has…” He noted, “So, you were playing in the snow?”

Gar rubbed the back of his head, “Yeah!”

Dick chuckled and took a sip of water, shaking his head at their antics. Gar shuffled his feet and looked like he was about to brush it aside and make a joke out of himself.

Raven, however, was quicker to comment, “It’s... actually really fun.”

The dark haired vigilante raised an eyebrow at her whilst Gar looked incredulously at her; not believing she had actually said that.

“I thought you hated the snow, Raven.” Dick pointed out,

She shrugged and gazed at Gar, “It helps you to feel calm and carefree; like being a kid again.”

The shape shifter felt a warmth spread across his chest where his heart lay, his stomach fluttering and he was reminded of one of the many reasons he fell in love with Raven.

She liked to tease and make fun of him but when she knew it was something close to his heart or something that ran deeper, she made a point of supporting him, no matter how minor a thing it was.

“Hm... never really looked at it that way.” Dick replied, stifling a yawn,

Gar smiled and gently pressed his lips to Raven’s cheek, making her blush a faint pink.

“Actually, Dick... I was hoping that maybe tomorrow... I could take Mar’i out to play in the snow? Y’know since... she hasn’t really experienced it yet... I thought she might be all amazed over it.”

Dick paused and pulled his drink away from his lips, considering before he nodded and smiled softly at his friend, “Sure, Gar.” He paused and eyed the green jokester’s lack of outerwear, “Just... make sure she is warm. She’s too little to be going out there without a coat on.”

Gar chuckled sheepishly whilst Raven furrowed her eyebrows, “Too little? You know she’s temperature resilient like Star, right?”

“Obviously but I still don’t like chancing her getting cold.” Dick retorted, in his ‘dad’ voice,

Grinning, Gar pouted, “Aw, papa Dick so worried.”

Dick rolled his eyes and put his now empty glass back into the basin on the counter, “Obviously. She’s my daughter, after all.”

Raven quirked a tiny smile, “Mhm... we know.”

Their leader shook his head and passed them, kissing Raven’s forehead and high fiving Gar as he moved, “Night guys. See you in the morning.”

“Night, Dick.” The couple replied in unison,

Gar watched Raven out of the corner of his eye for a long moment before he gently took her hands in his,

“Thanks for that, Rae.” He murmured,

“Thanks for what?” She asked, her eyes flicking from his jade ones to his lips,

“Being onside with the child, carefree thing...”

She gifted him with one of her rare, serene and signature Raven smiles,

“Snow has never really been important to me... but if it’s important to you...” She trailed off, lifting her chin slightly more,

Gar smirked and leaned down, brushing his nose against hers before pressing his forehead to hers. Raven closed her eyes and exhaled calmly before her eyes snapped open again,

“If you sneeze on me right now-” She was cut off by Gar’s throaty chuckle,

“Guess you better kiss me before that happens then, huh?”

“Why-”

He wrinkled his nose, “Uh oh, I feel a tickle-”

Instantly, he was silenced as Raven pressed her lips to his, allowing them to mold perfectly with Gar’s. Heat sparked through them, shooting along nerve endings and electrifying the calmness between them.

His hands found her waist whilst her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingertips brushing against the line of Gar’s jaw and eliciting fire in the wake of where she touched.

Gar pulled back and sucked in a gasp, that flicker of excitement in his eyes. Raven smiled and leaned her forehead against his once again,

“I’m still cold.” She muttered,

“Oh-“

“So... why not follow through with that comment earlier about warming me up?” She breathed, her cheeks flushing red with her suggestion.

Gar blinked at her for a moment before he broke into a wide grin, “I can do that!” He squeaked, already taking her by the hand and leading her out of the main room.

As they moved, Gar realized that as much fun as the snow outside was, being inside with Raven was where he wanted to be. Always.

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spartanguard · 6 years

Text

a different kind of catch

HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, @word-bug!!!!!!!! I’d hoped to have this up on your actual bday, but hope it was absolutely amazing and as wonderful and sweet as you are!!! This little CS ficlet was inspired by our mutual continuing love of Pokémon Go; hope you like it! Love you!!! | 1.9k, rated PG

Emma wasn’t going to let this one go, not this time; she’d come way too close to give up now. She hurried to the spot where her phone told her she’d find her mark, constantly glancing down at the screen to make sure she wasn’t too late.

Everything seemed fine, but she picked up her pace to a jog, impatient to get there as she ran past people on the streets of Boston.

She was almost there—to the Starbucks on the corner—and so close to her prize that she could almost taste it (though that might also have just been the scent of coffee in the air).

Until she collided with something warm and solid just feet from her goal. “Oof—what the hell?”

“Uuh; bloody hell!” the other body shouted out as they both hit the pavement, phones clattering from their hands. Shit, her screen better not be cracked.

“Watch where you’re going, buddy!” she yelled, not looking at the man who ran into her as she scrambled to standing and grabbed her phone. Thank God, not broken—and better yet, there it was!

“Where I’m going?” he protested; she vaguely noticed he had an accent but was too caught up to really care. “Maybe get your head out of your damned phone and you wouldn’t knock over unsuspecting civilians!”

She just waved him off; she had to focus. She’d already missed on her first try, so she threw a berry this time and tried again. It caught...but it broke out. It didn’t run, though.

“Oh, is that the Lapras?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s the Lapras!” she hissed back, not taking her attention off her screen. “I’ve been waiting to catch one of these since the damn game started!” She didn’t have to defend her playing of Pokémon Go as a full-grown adult to some random asshole—not she was finally going to catch one of her favorite Pokémon.

“No, me too; good luck,” he told her, then went silent.

That kind of surprised her, but not enough to distract her from choosing an Ultra Ball. “You too,” she muttered as she wound up a curve ball.

She let go, and the message on the screen said “Great!” as the animation of the ball clasping around the Lapras played. Then she held her breath, waiting—one...two...three!

“Freaking finally!” she shouted; it may have taken two years, but she’d finally got it! (And it was high CP, too!)

“There it is, yes!” the guy echoed moments later. Caught up in the high of the catch, she turned around to give him a high five in celebration of their shared victory.

Without thinking, their hands slapped together, and then she got a look at him—and, woah, he was a catch, too: dark, disheveled hair hung over his forehead, just above his bright blue eyes, sparkling with happiness; a grin was playing at his lips and his sharp jaw was dusted with gingery scruff; and he may as well have been dressed like a modern Pokémon trainer because who honestly wore waistcoats anymore? (Though she didn’t recall anyone from the anime with that much chest hair...not that she was complaining.)

He seemed just as taken aback as she was, and their hands kind of hung in the air after their high five until they realized what they were doing and dropped them, both suddenly aware of how awkward they were being—not that it really mattered when they were celebrating a video game based on a television show that was originally targeted at children.

“Congratulations, love,” he offered, nodding toward her phone. “Is it a good one?”

“Yeah,” she answered, kind of shyly. “Yours?”

“Pretty good.” They stood there for another moment, unsure what to do; she should probably keep walking, considering she had an egg close to hatching, but then he spoke up again. “I do apologize for the collision; I believe I was just as focused as you were on catching that. Let me buy you a drink to make up for it?” he said, tilting his head at the Starbucks. “Maybe a Pokémon Go frappuccino?” he suggested, winking poorly.

She just scrunched her nose and giggled; she’d had that once and it was way too sweet for her. “Nah, that’s too much,” she replied. “But I guess I could go for a hot chocolate?”

“Sounds perfect.” He gestured toward the door, but then raced ahead to open it before she got to it.

“So now you’re a gentleman?” she teased.

“I’m always a gentleman,” he answered smoothly.

She shivered a bit; damn, this guy had an effect on her, and that almost never happened. But most guys weren’t as unashamed about Pokémon Go as he was. “Does the gentleman have a name?” she enquired.

“Killian.”

“Emma.”

They got in line and both busied themselves with their phones while waiting to place their orders. “You know,” she started. “That’s probably a good name for a Lapras.”

“What is?” he wondered.

“Killian.” She liked saying his name; it was unique, and her Lapras was male, after all.

He grinned—a real one this time, and brilliant. “I suppose I could say that Emma is, too.” Oh, and she liked how he said her name, too.

“Seems like a pretty good way to honor the moment,” she decided.

“Aye,” he agreed, and they placed their drink order.

While they were waiting for their beverages at the other end of the counter, she couldn’t help but glance over as he scrolled through his collection. “Damn, how’d you get all those Mr. Mimes?” He had a ton, whereas she would likely never even get one—stupid geo-locked Pokémon!

“I just moved here from the UK,” he explained. “They’re everywhere over there. But I’ve yet to see any Tauros now that I’m here.”

“Yeah, you don’t see too many in the city; but out of town—tons. Actually, I have a couple strong ones, if you wanna trade?” Technically she’d been saving those for her brother—one of the only other people she knew who played and was amassing a Tauros army, for some reason—but she could totally spare one to a good, mutually beneficial cause.

“I'd love that!” he gushed. Their drinks were up, so they grabbed them and found a little table in the corner. “Pardon the awful line,” he started after they sat, “but what’s your number?”

She snorted, but it was probably the first time in ages she was happy to give someone her “number”. “It’s 1022 0206 0620.”

He typed it in and then proclaimed “sent! To SwanGirl83.”

“That’s me,” she confirmed, and she got the notification on her end a few seconds later. “xJollyxRogerx24?”

“Aye,” he replied. She took a moment to observe his avatar; it was a pretty close representation, though dressed as close as possible to being a pirate, complete with eye patch. “I take it you’re a Captain Hook fan?” she quipped.

“Ha, yeah,” he laughed. “It’s not quite a hook, but same idea,” he added, holding up his left hand—which she suddenly realized wasn’t a hand, but rather a gloved prosthesis that matched the ones his avatar wore.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—I didn’t even see…” she stammered; of course she’d put her foot in her mouth with the hottest player she’d ever come across; she could feel a Golem-like rock forming in her stomach.

To her surprise, though, he just waved her off. “No, no—you’re fine, lass; I’m the one making fun of it in the first place,” he assured her. Then his eyes bounced between her and his screen for a second, before stating, “I hope this isn’t too forward of me, but I daresay I prefer the actual Emma. Though that’s quite the fetching romper.”

She blushed a little, both at the compliment and the fact that she hadn’t changed her avatar’s outfit since the game started. There was just something so...Pokémon about that one-piece and leggings. “What can I say? I like to be comfy.”

“That implies you actually own a romper, then.”

“Ha, I wish!”

He replied with an almost goofy leer, eyebrow arched in amusement; she just shook her head, laughed, and promptly hid her embarrassment at walking into that by hiding in her hot chocolate.

“So, Pikachu as your companion?” he continued, apparently studying her via whatever symbolism could be found by her choices within the game.

“Yeah,” she said after she swallowed. “Can’t go wrong with a classic. And I like yellow.”

“I can see that, with you being yellow team and all.” He had her there.

“I’m guessing you like red, then, being Team Valor and with that shiny Gyarados there?” she guessed.

“Oy, he’s badass!” he protested, but then relented. “But yes, that’s part of it.”

They processed the trade, both finally adding another to their almost-completed Pokédexes, and then she sent him the most Boston gift she had on hand: Fenway Park. And he apparently sent her the most London one he still had: Big Ben. They shared giggles over that, and continued to chat—a bit about the game, comparing each others’ current stashes of Pokémon, but then it went onto work, family, friends, all that normal stuff, though it turned out neither of them really had much in that department.

Usually, she avoided romance altogether; she’d only found heartbreak there, and something told her Killian had, too. But what were the odds that she’d literally run into someone who shared so much with her, in addition to one of her favorite hobbies? For the first time in ages, she actually allowed herself to hope for something like that; hopefully he couldn’t see the Luvdiscs swimming in her eyes.

“Hey, there’s a raid a block over; I need to beat one for a research task.” His voice pulled her from her daydreaming. “Would you care to join me?”

She glanced at her screen; it was just a Ninetails, but she could always use another one. “Sure!”

They left the Starbucks—both hitting the Poké Stop there one more time for good measure, as well as a couple more on the way—and found the “gym” (actually just an ugly statue; it never ceased to amaze her the sorts of things that were considered “monuments” in this game). To the casual passerby, it probably looked like they were just two strangers immersed in their phones, but partnering up with Killian to takedown a foe was actually bringing them closer; seeing that red Gyarados in action was incredible, even if she was focused on what her Vaporeon was doing, too.

In no time at all, they’d knocked out the Ninetails and had both caught it. “I apologize if this is forward, Swan,” Killian said, “but we make quite the team.”

She couldn’t refute it. “Yeah, we do.”

Battling in raids together became a regular thing, and he was the first person she reached Best Friends level with (much to David’s chagrin). She jokingly bought him an eye patch for Christmas; he seriously bought her a romper.

And then, a couple years later, he proposed to her with a diamond ring nestled inside a Poké ball. People could rag on the game all they wanted; for Emma and Killian, it had been the best thing ever.

Hope you liked it and that maybe you got a birthday Lapras! also tagging a few others who I think still play/like it: @initiala @killian-morelike-killingme @distant-rose @queen-mabs-revenge @forestiyari @kat2609 @optomisticgirl @xpumpkindumplingx @wingedlioness @biancaros3

#cs ff #cs modern au #pokémon go #ouat x pokemon

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dub-me-the-mother-of-dorks · 6 years

Text

Happy Birthday to me, I guess

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Takeda Ittetsu

Word Count: 1,274

Summary: Takeda and Ukai go out drinking to celebrate Ukai's belated birthday.

Note: In the vein of me missing Ukai’s bday (Apr 5th) because I was on holiday celebrating my own bday, here is some fluffy ukatake :/

Ukai was honestly surprised at how insistent Takeda was to take him out for drinks to celebrate his birthday - especially considering how dismissive Takeda was of his own birthday just three months prior. Ukai was at a loss. What made it stranger still was that Ukai's birthday was a week ago.

"Again, I'm so sorry for not being around for your birthday, Ukai-kun!"

Ukai raised an eyebrow, "You don't have to keep apologising, sensei, to be honest I don't really care that mu-"

"Nonsense." Takeda was determined, "I cannot thank you enough for all the work and effort you've put into Karasuno's volleyball team all this time. The least I can do for you is dedicate an evening to appreciating you."

Ukai rolled his eyes. Truthfully speaking, he was just glad to be out with Takeda. He took a swig of his drink, "You're so embarrassing."

"Really? Oh, sorr-"

"Stop apologising!"

Takeda smiled warmly at his colleague and took a sip of his drink too. Ukai would probably never understand how deeply grateful he was for everything. "So, how was your birthday in the end?"

"We just drank all night."

"Ah, so nothing new then?"

"W-well..." Ukai tried to think of how he could reword things as to not make him seem too irresponsible.

"I'm glad you had a nice time though," Takeda giggled as he took another sip, "Someone as hardworking as you deserves time off."

"Hardworking...Takeda-sensei, please."

"You're so good with the boys; you always have an answer; you're incredibly motivational; you-"

Ukai could only hold off a blush for so long, "Seriously? Are you gonna do this all night?"

"Yes."

Ukai shifted uncomfortably, "I can't take that much credit for helping those kids; I should be thanking you."

"No, I-"

"You are so determined and wilful. I honestly believe you are painfully unappreciated."

It was Takeda's turn to shift in his seat uncomfortably, "Come on now, Ukai-kun."

Ukai raised his drink slightly, "Even if I used to find your persistence annoying, I have to admit that I love that about you."

Takeda tried hiding how red his face was by turning away and sipping his drink hurriedly, "Th-that's...well that's..."

Ukai chuckled, "See, that's what it feels like. So, stop it." That said, he did somewhat enjoy watching Takeda squirm - it was actually really cute.

Takeda's lip trembled slightly, "But I really do appreciate what you've done for us!"

"Thank you! I appreciate what you've done for me too. I love it, in fact."

Takeda shyly peered over the rim of his glasses, "Please stop saying that."

"I admire it, I adore it," Ukai said loudly, careful to continue saying 'it' instead of 'you'.

Takeda sighed dramatically, "Fine, I'll stop."

"Thanks."

They both took a drink and awkwardly avoided eye contact for a moment, though it only lasted for a few seconds before Takeda perked up again.

"I have something for you!" Takeda started rummaging through his side bag with a proud smirk.

Ukai narrowed his eyes, "Takeda-sensei, I hope you didn't get me a birthday present."

Takeda stopped short, "Um…no."

"Good," Ukai gave a short sigh of relief, "What is it?"

"Er, I need you to close your eyes first."

"Seriously?" He moaned, but obediently did so. He heard movement from across the table and immediately felt himself begin to sweat. A kiss? Is it going to be a kiss? Ukai hadn't been kissed in quite a while and hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it until now.

"You can open them now."

Ukai, slightly pink with embarrassment for jumping to conclusions, slowly opened his eyes to find a small, neatly wrapped box on the table in front of him. The wrapping paper was a soft yellow colour with a picturesque, light blue bow in the top corner.

"Takeda-sensei..."

"Yes?"

"What's this?"

"It's a...um, an appreciation present. Yeah, a gift of appreciation. A thank-you gift."

Ukai looked up at Takeda, who was now pink with embarrassment too and refusing to make eye contact.

"Thanks, I guess, but how am I supposed to open it? It's too nice to rip open," Ukai muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

"It's fine, really! Just rip it."

Ukai picked it up to inspect it and proceeded to gently tear it open, "You did a great job wrapping it though, sensei, it's so..." His voice trailed off into a soft gasp followed by fits of laughter.

Takeda fiddled with his fingers, "I wanted to treat you to drinks and smokes. From what I've seen, you seem to like this particular brand? Is it okay because I can change it!"

"You're so cute, Takeda!" Ukai managed to hiss between giggles. Though he quickly realised that he missed out the honorific and waved an apologetic hand, "Er, Takeda-sensei."

Takeda squeezed his fingers so tightly that they were beginning to hurt. Having Ukai call him cute was one thing but hearing Ukai refer to him so casually made his heart pound ruthlessly. "Um, no, I don't mind. You can call me...um...so you like them? Um-"

Ukai regained composure as much as possible, "Yes I do, thank you. It's very considerate of you."

"Y-you're welcome."

Ukai chugged at his drink before muttering, "Sorry, I didn't mean to say that about you. I didn't mean it in a belittling way."

"Don't worry," Takeda said quietly, "I don’t mind it coming from you."

The pair made sly eye contact while they took another sip from their drinks.

"Wait a minute-"

"Nope. You don't get to ask questions after calling me cute," Takeda teased.

Ukai's face settled into a fond smile, "Ah, right."

It wasn’t long before the two had finished their drinks and were chilling together in the smoking area of the bar. Takeda wasn’t a smoker himself but being here with Ukai was fine. In fact, it was somewhat comforting. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes mixed with his cheap cologne. The sound of Ukai’s gruff chuckling. It was all very familiar and warm to Takeda – so much so that he subconsciously began repositioning himself to be as close to Ukai as possible without physically touching him.

Ukai, on the other hand, was just trying not to blow smoke into Takeda’s face. Not at all aware of how physically close the two were now, Ukai had been telling Takeda more about his granddad’s history with Nekoma’s coach. However, Ukai had noticed that Takeda was smiling ever so softly as Ukai spoke and, honestly, it was getting a bit much for him.

“What’re you thinking about that’s making you so cheery?”

Takeda blinked himself out of his trance, “What do you mean?”

Ukai vaguely gestured around Takeda’s face, having to hold himself back from giving the shorter man’s cheeks a little pull.

“Oh!” Takeda laughed, “You have to promise to not get annoyed with me if I say why, though.”

“Go ahead.”

“I don’t want you to think I’m being insincere by repeating myself but…you really are wonderful.”

A sharp, crimson colour shot across Ukai’s face. He coughed violently, “You are going to be the end of me, Takeda-sensei!”

Takeda grinned cheekily, “That would be a shame; your birthday was only recently.”

Ukai beamed back at him. Maybe it was the alcohol or perhaps it was just everything about Takeda. Whatever it was, Ukai was beginning to care less and less about how things were. Without a second thought, Ukai took Takeda’s hand and leaned incredibly close to his face, his eyes focused on how Takeda’s grin widened as he got closer.

“Happy birthday to me, I guess.”

#ukatake #ukai keishin #takeda ittetsu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #fanfic #event #mine #fluffy fic #karasuno #fic #ukai x takeda #writing #hq #hq!!#hq rare pairs #rare pairs

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t0ngue-tech · 6 years

Text

Within Reach

↠flufffff, collegeAU, pianist!yoongi↞

word count: 6.3k

↠oneshot↞

a/n: hey demons. it’s me. ya girl. this is a BELATED bday gift for yoongi LOL. i know it’s not All Yours but i hope you enjoy it anyways :D

“Jimin, you’re telling me that Yoongi—Yoongi—knows how to play the piano?” You exclaimed whilst emptying a small packet of sugar into your cup of coffee.

“Yeah. He’s been playing since forever-ever.” Jimin took a large bite out of his breakfast burrito and spoke in muffled sentences. “His mother has a small music academy for vocal training and instrument lessons.”

You scrunched your nose at the way your friend chewed his food, but nodded politely.

It was a beautiful spring morning, so it was decided that you and Jimin were going to have breakfast under a tree somewhere on campus. Being a creative writing major, there was one thing you were lacking in that moment: creativity. You had a paper that was due in three weeks and just like many college students, you didn’t start it yet. There was a pit of creativity inside of you that was begging to bloom, but you were having a difficult time trying to water it.

Jimin suggested that you learn something new to spark something inside of you, specifically learning to play an instrument. The idea didn’t sound so bad. It gave you the idea to write about the beauty of playing an instrument and how it’s an art form in itself. But again, the only problem you were facing was that you were a broke college student and you couldn’t afford to pay for lessons. Thankfully, Jimin dropped some news on you that was a bit shocking.

Your mutual friend, Min Yoongi, knew how to play an instrument. The reason why it was shocking news was because based on his lethargic and quiet demeanor, he didn’t seem like the type to play. He was a dj on the campus radio and he was also torn between two majors: music and business. You had suggested he double majored and his exact words were do you want me to die?

Yoongi was a stranger you met at the library during one of your shifts. Jimin instructed you to wake up a friend of his and when he didn’t specify who, all he said was he’s probably all the way in the back cubicle with his head in his textbook; Jimin got it all down to a T. Ever since then, you occasionally joined Yoongi and Jimin on group study dates or for a quick bite at the local eateries. Even if Yoongi was fairly quiet, he was very observant of his friends and was comfortable with the people he was close to. He quickly became a good friend of yours and you were looking forward to getting to know him more because there was so much mystery that shrouded him and it made you curious.

“So? Are you going to ask him?” Jimin waved his breakfast burrito in front of your face.

“Maybe. I don’t know–can you please just–I’m wearing white and there’s hot sauce in your burrito.”

↠↞

‘Maybe’ and ‘I don’t know’ turned into a text message that read: hey, yoongi. can we meet at the cafe around 5? i have something i need to ask you.

It really wasn’t your intention to text him, but after hours of an internal debate you finally made the decision to learn how to play the piano. In your whole life, you’ve touched a piano a couple of times because you had a cousin who knew how to play. He only ever taught you basic things but it never stuck with you because of your lack of interest at the time. You were hoping Yoongi was going to agree to tutor you because you envisioned what your paper was going to look like and it looked beautiful in your head.

You swirled the ice around inside of your plastic cup and took a short sip of your coffee. It was only one minute past five and you were jumping to conclusions thinking that he wasn’t going to come. There was a light shove to your shoulder and Yoongi turned up from behind and sat down in the seat in front of you. His black hair fell over his eyes and he wore his usual I-look-like-I’m-suffering-but-I’m-really-fine facial expression.

“Your text seemed urgent.” Yoongi spoke slowly.

“Well yeah, considering my paper is due in two weeks.”

“This is about homework?” You nodded. “I’m not a creative writing major y/n—oh god, let’s not talk about majors. My mother called last night to ask about my major and I was on the phone with her for almost two hours talking about it.”

You laughed at the stressed out look he had. “I just need some inspiration for my paper and I heard from a promising source of mine that you play the piano.”

Yoongi stared at you for a few seconds because not many people knew that he had a passion for playing the piano. Of those people, there was only one person who was a friend of the both of you. “Jimin told you?”

You leaned back in your seat and took a long sip from your iced coffee. “I can’t expose my source of information. Sorry, Yoongi.”

He chuckled and scooted his seat inwards. “You want to learn how to play?”

“Yeah. I love the sound of the piano and I want to know what the feelings a person gets when they’re sitting behind the keys and playing their favorite piece of music.” You didn’t realize how much you were smiling until you found Yoongi genuinely smiling back at you.

“Can’t I just explain it to you myself?”

You leaned back in and clasped your hands together. “No, Yoongi! I want to feel it myself, please?” He folded his arms across his chest and squinted his eyes at you, so you tried again. “Please, Yoongi?”

A sigh tumbled from his lips and he raised an eyebrow. “What am I going to get out of this?”

“I’ll give you ten dollars after each week and a small iced americano whenever we meet up.” You smiled sweetly at him, hoping your small bargain was going to influence his decision.

“Hmm,” he hummed. “Make it 15 dollars if you get an A on your paper and 20 if you get anything less. Oh, and make the coffee a medium and you got yourself a deal.”

Your happiness was overflowing at Yoongi’s answer. So much so that you you jumped out of your seat and encircled your arms around his neck to give him a back hug. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou–thank you!” You sang into his ears. Yoongi just laughed and gently brushed your arms away before you could put him in a full headlock.

“Yeah, no problem. Just so you know, this is going to be in the way of me lying around.” He joked and stole your coffee away from you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were such a busy man.” Yoongi smiled at your sarcasm and stood up from his seat.

“Come on. Let’s go to the studio.”

↠↞

You’ve only ever been around the building of the radio studio, but never inside. It almost felt like you were walking through a room entirely made up of glass; you took little steps and kept your hands to yourself. Yoongi, on the other hand, bumped into mic stands and even knocked over a small box with blank discs inside. It was his own studio, afterall.

“You can go in the room over there,” he pointed to the area on the opposite side of the high-tech equipment. “All of the instruments are there for when we have students play live.” You followed his instructions and tiptoed around multiple wires and through the door.

The recording area was huge, considering the radio team had to keep a full drum set in there too. There were a bunch of instruments and amplifiers setup along the walls, it kind of terrified you because of how ignorant you were of anything in the musical instrument department. You sat down on the small bench that was seated behind the a long piano keyboard. Yoongi was on the opposite side of the glass window shuffling through papers and binders. Out of curiosity, you attempted to touch the piano keys and the mid-pitch startled you and Yoongi saw it all happen.

“It’s a piano not a monster, y/n.” He laughed. “It won’t bite you.” Yoongi took a seat on the space next to you and placed a music sheet on a stand. You stared at the black print on the piece of paper that looked a lot like foreign language to you. Did you really want to learn how to play the piano?

“You know what, Yoongi?” You began to stand. “Maybe piano isn’t right for me.”

“Hold—on.” Yoongi pulled on your sweater sleeve, making you sit back down. “This piece is fairly normal to play. It’s enough to make you feel that emotion that you’re searching for. Plus, I’m going to be getting free coffee from you, so there’s no way I’m going to pass that up.”

It was going to be a long and painful three weeks fitting in piano lessons into your schedule, but since Yoongi had complete access to the studio, he promised to have the lessons in the evening when it wasn’t busy. This whole thing was already making you anxious because you couldn’t go back to change the topic on your writing topic. You weren’t going to have enough time to write your paper if you changed your mind last minute. You were hoping Yoongi was as good as Jimin described because you were going to need as much help as you could get.

↠↞

You definitely needed all the help in the world.

Learning how to play the piano from your cousin was completely different from learning with Yoongi. Your cousin taught you how to play a song while Yoongi was starting all the way from the beginning. He was also teaching you how to read sheet music and forcing you to take notes on the different keys. Just like a teacher, he assigned you homework which was usually memorizing which key was what. It was extremely strict at first, but a week later, you got used to the routine you and Yoongi had.

You had classes everyday except for the weekend and Tuesdays and Thursdays. You worked in the library after your classes and in the mornings on Tuesdays and Thursdays. This made it easy for you to meet up with Yoongi in the evenings.

Yoongi’s class schedule was much more relaxed than yours. He had classes only on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, but he worked in the studio everyday at six in the evening. He had planned to tutor you every other day and on those every other days, he would be receiving his iced americano.

You were meeting with Yoongi in an hour, so you spent your time curled up in a bean bag chair with Jimin opposite of you. He was studying for a midterm and you decided to keep him company to make time go by quicker.

“I see you keep checking the time.” Jimin smirked at you. “Are you that excited to see Yoongi?”

You glared at his smug facial expression. “No, Jimin. I’m just making sure I won’t let time get the best of me.”

“Mhm. Sure. So how is your lessons with him going?” Jimin asked, punching numbers into his calculator.

“It’s hard and a bit frustrating, but it’s fun. Yoongi is a great teacher.” You smiled and lightly tapped your foot against Jimin’s shoe.

“I bet he is.” Jimin chuckled and then raised an eyebrow. From the look of his face, you knew you didn’t want to hear what he had to say next. “Has he ever done that thing where he holds your hands or some shit like that?”

“Jimin.” You sighed. “He has, but if you’re hoping for a romantic drama scene, then you can get your head out of the clouds.”

Jimin pouted and you threatened to toss his shoe across the student lounge. “Why not?! You two look good together, you know. Even Taehyung agrees.”

You sat up straight and tilted your head. “Is this why you recommended I learn piano?”

He automatically put his hands up and laughed at your accusation. “No, of course not. The other day, Taehyung and I saw you and Yoongi leaving the coffee shop together. He was holding your backpack and you guys looked like a cute couple.”

The moment he was referring to happened two days ago and you recalled Yoongi offering to hold your bag because you looked tired. “Well, that’s all the action you’re going to be getting from the two of us.” Jimin dramatically gasped and clutched his chest. “I’ll see you later. Yoongi cleaned out the studio early.”

“Have fun, y/n!” There was a teasing tone in Jimin’s voice and you did everything in your power to not react to him.

↠↞

The walk to the radio studio seemed a lot faster than it usually was. It was probably because you couldn’t stop thinking about the way Jimin teased you. You and Yoongi were friends and you liked the way things were with him. Also, you never really thought about him romantically. Sure, you thought he was cute but that was as far your thoughts wandered off to. If these new thoughts were going to distract you from your tutoring, you made a vow to flick Jimin dead center on his forehead.

“Hey, sorry about the mess. We had a full band play today.” You didn’t even realize you were already standing in the large recording room of the studio. Yoongi stood there, untangling wires and was looking more handsome than usual in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans.

“It’s alright. Do you need any help?” You snapped out of it and set your bag down on the floor.

“Yeah, can you set aside some of the amplifiers and mic stands?” You obliged and quickly got to work and you were unaware as to how heavy some of the amps were.

Yoongi put things away at a brisk pace while you struggled to push certain items aside. He noticed your struggle and came to your aid with a chuckle.

“I got these. You can grab that blue binder over there. It has all the music sheets.” Yoongi pointed near the piano and carefully slid behind you. As he crept past you, he gently placed a hand on your lower back making you slightly jump at his touch. You quickly gathered yourself and strided towards the binder so you could sit behind the keyboard.

Park-fucking-Jimin. You were fuming on the inside. If Yoongi was to place a hand on your lower back the other day, you wouldn’t have mind. If Yoongi wore a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans the other day, it would have been like any other day for you. But thanks to your oh-so beloved friend, you were beginning to feel shy and distracted around him. This was not like you at all. If Jimin didn’t mention anything about you and Yoongi looking like a cute couple, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.

“Alright, y/n. You definitely improved just in the course of one week.” Yoongi turned on the keyboard and took a seat a beside you. “Hopefully in two more weeks or less, you can find the feeling that you’re searching for.” He turned to smile at you and you sheepishly smiled back.

“Yeah and then I can finally start saving money again.” You laughed and avoided the twinkle in his eyes.

“Hey, at least I’m not charging you per hour.” Yoongi opened up the binder and placed it on the stand. “Try playing it from the beginning.”

You took a deep breath to calm yourself before playing because the last thing you wanted was to screw up after he just mentioned you were improving. You could feel your fingers shaking as you hovered them over the glossy piano keys, hoping that Yoongi wouldn’t notice. The first handful of notes came out perfectly, but as the second half of the intro came along, you fumbled on the keyboard and pressed different keys.

“I got this, I swear!” You opened and closed your hands a couple of times to stretch out your fingers.

“Hm, I think you need to relax a little bit.” Yoongi chuckled and stood up to stand behind you. He squeezed your shoulders a couple of times to try and help you “relax”, but in reality, he was only making you more nervous. “And curve your fingers some more.” Still standing behind you, he reached around to take hold of your fingers to curl them; you were so sure he could feel your fingers shaking. After what seemed to be hours, Yoongi finally released your fingers and sat down beside you, close enough to the point where your knees were touching.

You hated this. You hated yourself for reacting this way, but most of all, you hated Jimin.

↠↞

“Jimin, I fucking hate you.” You breathed out.

Jimin downed his shot of liquor and chuckled. “Did I do something wrong?”

You squinted at him and shoved your shot glass in his direction. “For the past week, all I could think about was oh, you and yoongi make a cute couple or whatever.” You spat out and dropped your head onto Jimin’s dining table. “All I wanted was to learn how to play the piano so I can do my paper, but now I can’t stop thinking about Yoongi and his beautiful hands.”

A faint laugh rumbled from Jimin’s throat as he refilled your shot glass. “But this is a great thing, y/n!” He tapped your shoulder and handed you the alcohol filled glass.

“I can’t fucking concentrate, Jimin.” You slurred. “I just want to hold his hands.”

How were you going to finish your paper at this rate? You were infatuated with many thoughts of Yoongi and how you wanted him to hold your hands whenever you made a small mistake reciting the piano piece. Your paper was due in one week and you only had one small paragraph that you weren’t even satisfied with.

“Oh, by the way, I also invited Taehyung and Yoongi over.” He blurted out nonchalantly and you grabbed Jimin by the shoulders, almost knocking over the bottle of whiskey.

“Why would you do that?!”

“Because I passed my hardest midterm yesterday so we’re celebrating, why else? And can you please get a hold of yourself Ms. Drunkass.” Jimin peeled your hands off of him and brushed strands of hair out of your eyes to make you look a little less drunk.

“No, why Yoongi? It’s already hard enough that I see him every other day. Today is Sunday! I don’t have lessons on Sunday!” A groan pushed past your lips as you slumped farther down in your seat.

“Just relax! Geez.” Jimin stood up from his seat to exit his small dining room. You were hoping he was going to head into the kitchen to grab another bag of potato chips, but you heard the faint sound of laughter and his front door unlocking instead.

Good grief. You sat up straight and tucked a couple locks of hair behind your ears. If Jimin had to fix your hair in the first place, you probably looked like a hot mess—or just a complete mess.

Jimin returned with three large boxes that carried the intoxicating scent of pizza. Taehyung and Yoongi followed close behind him with an extra bottle of alcohol. Your eyes unknowingly trailed Yoongi who looked absolutely gorgeous in sweats and a hoodie. His eyes met yours and before you could look away, he smiled fondly at you and waved. You were so sure the alcohol was the reason why your body was one hundred degrees, but Yoongi definitely had something to do with it as well.

“I’m surprised you passed that final considering how little time you spent studying.” Yoongi blurted out and automatically took the seat beside you.

“Hey. If you’re going to insult me, I’m going to kick you out of my apartment.” Jimin grimaced handed you a slice of pizza and a bottle of tabasco.

Yoongi put his hands up and chuckled. You blankly stared at his slim fingers that were now placed on the wooden surface of Jimin’s dinner table. Everything around you seemed to slow down at the sight of Yoongi’s hands. You almost didn’t hear him calling your name even if he was inches away from you.

“Y/n?” Yoongi called out. Your eyes slowly met his and the entire room shifted at a torturous pace. “Are you alright?”

“I—“ You stammered and sucked in a breath. “Sleepy.”

Taehyung sputtered at how quickly you answered and almost choked on his food. Jimin shook his head and forced out a laugh. In your dazed and drunken state, you weren’t even sure why your friends were laughing.

“She pre-gamed hard before you guys came over.” Jimin explained as he packed you slices of pizza for you to eat in the morning. “Come on, y/n. You can sleep in my room tonight.”

You quickly stood up from the table and pointed a finger at Jimin that stirred laughter from Yoongi. “No. I refuse! We live in the same apartment complex Chimin.” You slurred. “I’ll just go back to my place.” You were going to excuse yourself from the table until Yoongi shot up and stood behind you, holding you by your forearms.

“Whoa there. You are not walking there on your own.” He reached for the ziploc bag that contained your pizza. “I’ll take you.”

“Such a gentleman.” You sighed while Jimin and Taehyung exchanged mischievous looks.

“Go down to the fifth floor; she lives in 518.” Jimin smirked at Yoongi who was clearing the way for you to carefully walk around the table.

“Okay. I’ll be back—dammit, y/n. Wait for me!”

↠↞

The elevator usually took a while to arrive, so Yoongi had you leaning on his shoulder to support your weight. You were clutching tightly onto his sleeve, trying to fight the urge to sleep right then and there. There was a lingering scent of cologne mixed with fabric softener etched into the fabric and you couldn’t peel yourself away. You couldn’t tell if Yoongi was bothered by your drunk presence because he barely said a word to you and it was making you feel uneasy.

“Yoongi.” You exhaled and he hummed. “You smell so nice.”

The melody of his laughter filled your ears and you closed your eyes, wanting to hear more.

“Thank you. I just recently got new cologne.”

You stepped back away from him for a second and stared at him with heavy eyelids. Your blurry vision was making it hard to make out what kind of expression he was wearing.

“And you, yooooou, are also very nice.” Yoongi seemed to be taken back by your sudden compliment because he just smiled, cleared his throat, and avoided your eyes. “You’re so talented in the music department and you’re also very patient with me.”

“Thanks, y/n.” Yoongi shyly smiled at you and then anxiously stared at the elevator doors that were still not opening. “You’re also a nice person. You’ve been doing extremely well during the lessons.”

You pressed your back against the wall and joined him in staring at the elevator doors. “Honestly,” you mumbled. “I think I would be doing much better if you didn’t have such beautiful hands.”

“W-What?”

Right on cue, the elevator doors opened and you staggered forward into the square space. Yoongi followed in suit and caught you before you could face plant onto the floor.

“I have beautiful hands?” He questioned with a tint of blush on his cheeks.

“Mhm.” You pressed your forehead near his shoulder. “I really want to hold your hand.”

↠↞

The next morning came almost instantly, but you don’t even remember climbing into bed. The thoughts in your head swam around, failing to piece themselves to together. The last thing you could remember clearly was seeing Taehyung and Yoongi following Jimin into his kitchen—oh god, Yoongi.

Mondays meant morning and afternoon class, but who had time to go to a 10 am class with a hangover? Not you. This particular monday also meant the one thing you were dreading: piano lessons. You weren’t sure why, mostly because you barely remembered a thing, but you felt uneasy meeting up with Yoongi.

You sat up in your bed wearing your university hoodie over the t-shirt you wore last night. Confused and hungover, you slowly turned your head to your side table and spotted your phone, a tablet if aspirin, and a glass of water. Beneath those items was a sheet from one of your memo pads with small black scribbles on top.

I went through your medicine cabinet for the aspirin, if that’s alright. Stay hydrated throughout today because we still have lessons later on. See you later! -Yoongi

You held the memo sheet closer to your face to make sure you were reading things clearly. Yoongi was the one who took you home? Not Jimin? The messy thoughts of Jimin either offering to walk you back to your apartment or letting you stay over his place were jumbled in your head.

Speaking of the devil. Your phone lit up and you saw the multiple messages displayed on your screen. The messages mainly consisted of text messages from Jimin and one singular text from Yoongi. You were obviously more interested in the one from the latter.

[8:34] nim ignooy: Good morning y/n. You feeling okay?

How sweet.

[10:08] You: good morn yoongi. i feel like death. thank you for bringing me home last night! i hope i wasn’t a hassle

You weren’t expecting Yoongi to text back quick, but after reading two of Jimin’s texts that were capslock of your full name, you received a text back from Yoongi.

[10:09] nim ignooy: Lol at least you’re awake. No problem :) you almost fell asleep in your hallway, but other than that, you were fine.

Thank goodness.

Before replying, you decided to take a gander at Jimin’s text messages. It was a mixture of texts from last night and early this morning.

[Yesterday 11:39] park jimout: YOONGI IS TAKING YOU HOME.

[Yesterday 11:39] park jimout: I’m texting this because you’re drunk as fuck and who knows, what if you forget

[Yesterday 11:54] park jimout: 20 MIN LATER AND YOONGI ISNT BACK. WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING LOL

The smirking emoji attached to the end of that text made you chuckle. Jimin was something else.

[12:13] park jimout: Omg

[12:13] park jimout: Y/n

[12:14] park jimout: YOONGI SAID THAT YO U SAID YOU KEPT SAYING YUO WANTESD TO HOLS HIS HABD

[12:14] park jimout: YOU JUST DRUNK EXPOSEd yOURSELD AND I WSNT THERE TO WITNESS IT

[8:47] park jimout: Good morning Mrs Min. It’s a beautiful day to hold some hands huh?

[10:08] park jimout: I NEED SOME FORM OF AFFIRMATION THAT YOURE CONSCIOUS PLS

Almost immediately, you quickly tapped on his contact information and listened as the line rang once, twice—

“Finally! You were literally asleep for a thousand years, you know that?”

“Shut up.” You groaned and rubbed the middle of your forehead. “What the fuck exactly happened?”

“Alright, buckle up boys. First of all, Yoongi was almost dead ass back hugging you because you were pretty much falling over my furniture. Then 30 minutes flew by, Yoongi is back and was like ‘sorry, I needed to make sure she was sleeping okay.’”

A smile appeared on face at Jimin’s words. Yoongi was one of the most warmest and sweetest guys you ever met, despite his exterior being the complete opposite.

“So he sits down, staring at the pizza boxes, barely saying anything. Taehyung asks if anything happened and I swear to god, he was smiling from ear to ear and said ‘y/n said she wanted to hold my hand.’ Tae and I almost flipped shit.”

You quickly put Jimin on speaker so you could cover your face and fall back onto your mountain of pillows. He was smiling? Yoongi was smiling when he was talking about it?!

“You’re fucking with me.” You muffled behind your hands.

“Nope. I swear, y/n. Call Taehyung and ask him!”

A dry laugh slipped past your lips as you thought about your piano lessons later on during the day. Since Yoongi said that you were “fine” and not a hassle, does that mean you have to act like you don’t remember anything from last night? Oh great, just another reason for you to be nervous around him.

“Jimin, I don’t think I can face him today.” You breathed heavily.

“Nonsense. I know Yoongi and he probably won’t make things awkward unless you make it awkward first, so, just be cool.”

“Easy for you to say. You didn’t tell Yoongi you wanted to hold his hand.” You felt the pain pulsing in your head. “I’m hungover and exhausted, I’ll call you later Jimin.”

After ending the phone call, you rolled over to your side and silently screamed into your pillows. How the hell were you supposed to face Yoongi knowing damn well you embarrassed yourself?

↠↞

“You need relax, bro.”

While Jimin spoke nonchalantly, you were panicking in the office chair and breaking out into a cold sweat. Yoongi was meeting with group mates to discuss a presentation they had to do tomorrow, so he texted you saying that he was going to keep the studio unlocked and you were free to wait in there.

“I am relaxed.” You said through gritted teeth, obviously lying.

“When did he say he was going to be back?”

“In like 15 minutes.” An agonizing groan tumbled past your lips. “I’m going to make things awkward, I know I am.”

There was no doubt that you were still hungover the fact that you were continuously spewing about how much you wanted to hold Yoongi’s hands. You made a promise to yourself to stay away from alcohol for a while. None of this shouldn’t have been a problem for you, but nope, Jimin just had to open his big mouth and make you infatuated with a guy you never really thought about before. You lowered your head onto the table and buried your face into the crook of your forearm. It baffled you how something as simple as “you two make a cute couple” could make you so whipped.

“Why don’t you just work on your paper until then because my food just arrived and I know you hate it when I talk with my mouth full.”

You sighed sadly because talking was helping to keep your nerves at bay, but you did need to work on your paper so you bid Jimin a solemn farewell and reached for your laptop. Hopefully Yoongi was going to take longer than the time he gave you. You weren’t ready to face him yet.

It didn’t occur to you that you were feeling sleepy until your body twitched you awake. The last thing you remembered was typing two more poorly formed paragraphs and then putting your head down as a reward. You swore you closed your eyes for only five minutes, but with how groggy you were feeling, it was definitely more than five minutes.

You lifted your head and the first thing you saw was the black screen of your laptop and your reflection staring back at you. I look like a mess. Your left arm felt numb because you kept it lying straight on top of Yoongi’s work desk. With the dust of sleep still in your eyes, you almost didn’t notice what was in your left hand. After blinking a couple of times and you eyes adjusted to the light of the room, you quietly gasped at the sight of Yoongi hunched over beside you with his head resting in the nest of his left forearm and the fingers of his right hand were laced in between yours.

What were you supposed to do? You needed to wake him up because you weren’t sure if he even knew what he was doing, but the moment was too good for you to ruin. Yoongi could probably wake up on his own if he was able to feel how much your hand was sweating. You swallowed the lump in your throat to prepare yourself before you gently pulled your hand back. As you softly wiggled your fingers, Yoongi stirred in his sleep and tightened his grip. You sucked in a deep breath, waiting to see if he was going to fall back asleep. It seemed as if he was going to stay in his position, but he groggily lifted his head and shuffled the stray hairs that fell over his eyebrows. Yoongi sat up, still holding your hand, and turned face you who was staring back with widened eyes.

It took a few seconds for the situation to register in Yoongi’s eyes and when it did, a barely audible gasp left his lips and he let go of your hand. Already missing the warmth, you brought your hands down onto your lap and nervously glanced back to your reflection on your laptop screen.

“I–uh–” He stuttered and cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

Don’t apologize. Please don’t apologize. “No, it’s fine, Yoongi.”

It was completely silent for a moment and the air around you had become a bit dense. You clicked the spacebar on your laptop to reveal the two new paragraphs you typed up.

“Have you figured out your feelings when playing the piano?” Yoongi asked shyly, trying to take a look at your essay.

“Not completely. It feels like I’m missing something.” You ran your fingers through your hair. “What about you? What does it feels like when you play, Yoongi?”

He adjusted his posture to fold his arms on the table and rest his chin on his arms. He hummed and searched the atmosphere for an answer.

“Honestly, I feel at peace, like there’s nothing else in this world besides me and my piano. It’s a bit cliche, but playing the piano is my escape, so I’m the happiest when I play.” Yoongi wore the most genuine smile you’ve seen and you opened another document to type out a few bullet points on what he explained. Since he had been playing all his life, it was obvious as to why he felt nothing but bliss whenever he played the instrument.

“I know what you mean.” You smiled back. “I feel the same way when I’m writing personal projects or even when I’m reading certain books for inspiration.”

“See? You know exactly what the feeling is. Are you sure you really needed to learn how to play an instrument to feel it? Or did you just need an excuse to see me often?” You were slightly taken back by his laugh comment and the laugh you let out sounded a lot more forced than you would’ve liked.

“Y/n.. I–I’m sorry for holding your hand so suddenly.” Yoongi was leaning back in his chair and twiddling his thumbs together. “When I walked in, you were already napping and so I sat down next to you. Your hand was out in the open and I don’t know what came over me. I just—I really wanted to hold your hand again.”

On the inside, you were reduced into a puddle of feelings at his words. On the outside, your lips were parted and you could feel your entire body tense up. Not only did he want to hold your hand, he wanted to hold your hand again—wait—

“Again?” You questioned.

“Y-Yeah. Jimin didn’t tell you anything?”

You shook your head and Yoongi proceeded to tell you that after you drunk-mentioned that you wanted to hold his hand last night, you slipped your fingers in between his. Apparently, you were constantly gushing about how much you loved his hands and that you’ve been wanting to hold his hands for a while.

This time, your jaw hung open and your embarrassment meter was reaching its maximum capacity. Jimin knew this happened and he kept it from you for, what seemed to be, his own entertainment. There were no words to describe what you were feeling because first of all, you didn’t know how to feel. You completely made a fool of yourself by exposing your desire to hold his hands, but in the end, Yoongi admitted that he wanted to hold your hand a second time. The only words you could bring yourself to say were:

“I’m sorry.”

“No! No, don’t be.” Yoongi finally mad eye contact with you again. “I’m kind of glad it happened. Jimin and Taehyung has been teasing me non-stop about you and it grew on me… immensely.”

There was a pinkish red hue that glowed on his cheeks and mirrored your own.

“You too?! Oh god, he’s been doing the same thing to me and that’s why I’ve a little jumpy around you lately…” You rubbed the back of your neck and averted your eyes away from him. “I’m going to kill him, I swear.”

“Before you do—“ With flushed cheeks, Yoongi scooted his seat closer to you. He resumed his previous position with his head resting on his left forearm and shut his eyes. You were confused because he didn’t complete his sentence, but a few seconds later, he brought his right band to lace into your left. “Let’s just stay like this for a while longer.”

While your hand was sweaty, Yoongi’s hand was warm. You made no effort in hiding your smile and you could already feel the blush forming on your cheeks. You rested your chin on your free hand and gazed at Yoongi who had the slightest smile etched on his face.

Your paper could wait, killing Jimin could wait, because right now, you had something much more important in the palm of your hand.

♡ rae jagi

#bangtan boys #bts #suga #suga scenarios #bts scenarios #suga fluff #bts fluff #what is this #belated bday gift lmao #hella belated #yoongz #rae writes

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runwiththieves-blog · 7 years

Text

birthday wishes ;

SO THIS LITTLE DIDDY IS DEDICATED TO MY MAIN BITCH @mermaidsonships!!!!!! we’ll consider it a belated birthday present, even though i’ve been working on it for roughly three days – her birthday was yesterday SO I FELL BEHIND ON MY DEADLINE! AS ALWAYS! but yeah. this is for N! i love you bitch! ain’t never gonna stop lovin u bitch! i also hope the rest of you enjoy, it’s cute and fun whether it’s your bday or not. we all have them at some point 💘

It’s somewhere around half an hour later, and you feel like the two of you have really only been going in circles, but you never once questioned it. Your eyebrows furrow when Harry ends up just pulling into his driveway, though, and you look over him with a confused expression. “You know it only takes ten minutes to get to your house from my flat, right? And that’s when there’s traffic,” you deadpan, and he just smirks, shaking his head.

“I know. Had to make you feel like we were going somewhere else, though,” he explains, and you’re left feeling even more confused.

“So you made me dress up and drove me around for half an hour just so we could come to your house?” You question, and his bobs from side to side like he’s considering whether or not that’s what he’s done.

“I suppose so, yeah,” he answers, and you roll your eyes.

“There’s not gonna’ be some sort of surprise party when I walk in the front door, is there?” You press, and he laughs, shaking his head.

Harry grants Y/N the birthday wish she’s had since she was thirteen

6k+, fluff, smut, heart shaped sandwiches, and a plot synopsis of 13 going on 30

You’ve changed your outfit seventy-three times.

At least, that’s what Harry’s claiming, anyway. It’s been more like three, but he’s the most impatient person you know, probably. At least, when it comes to waiting for you to get ready. It’s not your fault that he can throw most anything on and make it look like he’s fresh off a runway in Milan, while you’d rather spend your days in joggers and a baggy t-shirt (however, you could do without the joggers most days). If anyone should be annoyed in this situation, it’s you, considering he’s insisted that he sees you in a dress on your birthday.

“You’re going to make us late,” Harry tells you, and you spare a glance over to him smoothing over the front of your sundress as you give yourself a once over in the full length mirror in front of you.

“We’ll be fine,” you assure, and his eyebrows furrow as he rolls over so that he’s lying across your bed on his stomach. Normally, when he gets in that position, you’re quick to either straddle his back and rub at his shoulders or lay down right next to him. This time, you’re too busy applying a pretty pink lipstick shade. “You don’t know that. You don’t even know what ‘m taking you to do,” he points out, and you sigh, pushing a bit of your hair behind your ear and turning so that you’re facing him.

“Because you’re being an ass and won’t tell me,” you argue, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips, and Harry can’t help but smile, too.

“’S a birthday surprise!” He defends, and you grab your bag and let it hang from your shoulder as you look him over once he’s standing in front of you.

“Better be worth wearin’ this dress,” you counter and he presses a friendly kiss to your forehead.

“You look beautiful. Like a proper birthday princess,” he murmurs, and you can’t help but feel your whole body flush at the sentiment.

You’d think after years of friendship with Harry, you’d be used to his compliments, but he’s still quite good at making your cheeks heat up and your hands get clammy. It’s annoying, really, because it’s the only part of your Crush-On-Harry-Phase you were never able to lure yourself out of. You blame it all on how pretty he is, but deep down you know that it’s got a good bit to do with just him as a person having that effect on you. His face is just an added bonus to the already beautiful man that he is. It’s disgusting how soft you get when it comes to him, and you kick yourself all the time for most of the thoughts you have when you’re thinking about Harry. And that’s his fault, too, really. It didn’t quite happen to the degree that it does now until the first time you had caught him just staring at you with the faintest hint of a smile playing at his lips. You blushed almost instantly, but Harry didn’t make a single move to avert his gaze. When you asked him why he was staring at you a moment later, he’d given you the simple answer of ‘you’re pretty.’ You’ve pretty much been Mush for Harry Styles ever since.

Snapping back to reality and out of the little bubble inside your head where you safely acknowledge that you may kind of, sort of be in love with your best friend, you realize that you’ve been pretty much ignoring said best friend in favor of daydreaming about him whilst he drives you to whatever surprise he has had planned for at least a few weeks (that you know of). “Can you tell me where we’re going now?” You question, but Harry just flashes a quick smile over to you and focuses back on the winding road in front him. “Wouldn’t be a surprise, then, love,” he says, probably for the millionth time in the past few days. It’s irritating, but no one has ever put together your plans for your birthday celebration for you. You just hope it’s not a surprise party. There are plenty of other times in which you’re down to spend the night dancing and drinking with your friends. Tonight is not one of them. You’ve told Harry for months that you didn’t want a party this year, and if you just had to do something, you’d love it if it were just the two of you. He had argued with that at first, said that you only get one twenty-first birthday and that you deserve a grand party to go along with it. You told him it’s nothing significant since you’ve lived in the UK since you were eighteen and have been legal ever since. He didn’t have much to say about it after that.

“I know. Had to make you feel like we were going somewhere else, though,” he explains, and you’re left feeling even more confused.

“I suppose so, yeah,” he answers, and you roll your eyes.

“There’s not gonna’ be some sort of surprise party when I walk in the front door, is there?” You press, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, ‘s just us. Just like you told me. I promise,” he assures, and you hold your pinky out and his eyes flicker from the finger to your eyes, just staring at you for a moment, before he locks his pinky around yours. You know he’s telling the truth, then, because neither of you have ever broken a pinky promise to each other (no matter how childish it is). Also, the lack of cars in and around his driveway are enough to make you believe him.

When Harry cuts the engine off, you take it as your cue to climb out of his car. Harry is sure to make you trail behind him as he leads you to the front door. You don’t know what you were expecting when you stepped inside, but his house seemed no different than it ever was. There were no people jumping from their hiding spots in surprise. The kitchen light was on, like it always was when he left and didn’t intend to be home until dark (he was a bit afraid of the dark, even if he’d never admit it). It really just seemed like any other day, as far as you could see. “I can’t believe my birthday surprise is coming to your house!” You tease, and he smirks as he walks toward the French doors in the kitchen.

“So, you’d be content with just this? No surprise at all? Not even a present or a single balloon?” He questions, and you lean back against the island, humming in thought.

“I would be if you hadn’t promised me a surprise and made me get all dressed up for it,” you answer, and he shrugs, nodding slowly.

“That’s fair.”

He doesn’t miss a beat after that, though. When he opens the door, your brows furrow once more, and you step towards the door when you realize he’s holding it open for you. It’s dark out, but as soon as you step foot outside onto his patio, you’re surprised with fairy lights and candles illuminating the back yard. You then see where he’s gotten a few blankets and pillows set up, as well as what appears to be a picnic, and there’s a projector facing the side of his house and he’s got the main menu of ‘13 Going On 30′ (your favorite) pulled up on it. Off to the side of the palette he’s made on the ground are a couple of gifts, balloons, and flowers. He’s really gone above and beyond, even if you know he probably thinks it’s the simplest thing. You also know he had to know you’d love it. Your heart is in your throat when you turn back to him, your lips parted in utter shock and he’s smiling fondly at you from where he’s standing at the doorway.

“Harry..–” you start, and he raises his eyebrows and cuts you off.

“Surprised, then?” He murmurs, pushing away from the door and walking towards you.

“A little,” you tell him, and he laughs, shaking his head as he glances down at the ground.

“I told you I was makin’ it special,” he reminds, and you nod, doing your best to fend off the butterflies in your tummy.

There have been several instances in the time that you’ve known Harry where you’ve wanted to kiss him until you were both breathless. Once, after he saved you from a sleazy guy at a bar. The first time he fell asleep holding you in his arms at your place. When he told you how proud he was of you when you landed your first major internship. When he comforted you when you were homesick. The list is endless, really, but you’re not sure if the urge has ever felt quite as intense as it does in this moment. This is probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for you – birthday or not. You think he deserves to be shown the utmost appreciation, but you can’t exactly do that without it being questionable behavior, considering you’re best friends and nothing more. You settle for a run into his arms, though, and hug him as tight as you possibly can, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I love you,” you tell him, and you feel him smile against your neck, lips brushing against your skin. “I love you more,” he murmurs, and normally you’d argue with him, but you think you’ll let him have it tonight. He’s earned it.

After you’ve both eaten (he made heart shaped sandwiches and fruit salad, and it was so sweet and so undeniably Harry that you couldn’t even bring yourself to tease him about how cheesy it was), you find yourself settled onto the aforementioned blankets and pillows with Harry. You’re actually more settled on him while he’s settled on the blankets and pillows, laying between his legs with your back to his chest, your third glass of wine in hand – a positioned you’ve been in a million times before tonight. It’s about twenty minutes into the movie, right after Jenna thinks Matty’s ruined her birthday party, and she’s locked herself in the closet and is desperately pleading any higher power to be ‘thirty, flirty, and thriving’ that he speaks again. “What was your birthday wish when you were thirteen?” He murmurs right against the shell of your ear, and you grin at the sound of his voice, glancing back at him over your shoulder. You laugh after a moment of trying to think that far back, and Harry’s arms tighten around you. You love when he does that – like he can’t get you close enough or hold you tight enough.

“Honestly think I was wishing that my best friend would fall in love with me and we’d live happily ever after. Like in the movie. But I think that’d be more so from Matty’s point of view at thirteen. Jenna doesn’t see him like that until after she’s turned thirty,” you murmur, and the realization that it wouldn’t be so far off from what you’d wish for if you had candles to blow out this birthday hits almost as soon as you’ve gotten the words out of your mouth. You feel Harry shift a bit behind you, but when you look back up at him he’s smiling down at you – that fond little smile that’s reserved especially for you. It makes your heart flip upside down.

“Was he cute?” He murmurs, and you laugh quietly, nodding as you laced your fingers through his and focused your gaze back on the movie being projected onto the white sheet Harry had hung up on the side of his house.

“Yeah, he was cute,” you finally answer, and Harry’s thumb strokes over the back of your hand so gently you could cry.

“Cuter than me?” He presses, his chin hooked over your shoulder, and you squeeze his hand in response to his touches.

“I didn’t know you when you were thirteen, H,” you say, seemingly successfully deflecting the question.

The two of you exchange commentary throughout the rest of the film, and you laugh more than you think you have in ages. You tell Harry about your massive crush on Mark Ruffalo, and how you’ve been in love with him since you first saw this movie when you were younger. Harry laughs and tells you he felt the same way about Jennifer Garner. It’s when it gets to the scene where Jennifer’s character is confessing her feelings to Mark’s that Harry has your stomach in knots yet again. “Think we’ll end up being like them,” he murmurs, and you raise your eyebrows as you look back at him as Jenna sobs and leaves Matt’s wedding.

“Well, I hope not. Not like that,” you tell him, and he laughs, shaking his head.

“No, no – not that part. Just. I don’t know. We’ve watched this before. You know how it ends,” he murmurs, and he sounds a bit more shy now that he’s had to explain himself, and you bite your lip when you notice the rosy tint he’s got to his cheeks.

“Probably,” you agree, your heart is racing but it comes out nonchalant, and you’re thankful for that much, because you literally feel Harry relax behind you.

When the movie has ended and Jenna and Matt have gotten married and moved into the pretty pink house (which looks an awful lot like the doll house Matt made her when they were thirteen, you realize), Harry taps your hip and you move until you’re sitting with your legs crossed in front of him. He shuffles a bit until he comes across a tiny cake box, and you smile when he reveals a cupcake and a singular candle in it.

“Really just thought you’d replaced my cake with fruit and honey this year,” you tease, and he shushes you as he take a lighter to the candle.

“Would have, but you’ve got to have a wish,” he replies, and you smile widely.

“Are you gonna’ sing to me?” You question, scooting forward so that you can take the cupcake from him, and he scrunches his nose, and you whine.

“I’m leaving if you don’t sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me, Harry Styles,” you threaten, and he gives you a pointed look, which does nothing because you just shoot it right back at him.

He does end up singing to you, and you smile like an idiot the whole time, giggling a bit. Once he’s finished, you close your eyes, blow the candle out, and make your wish. It’s when you feel a hand cupping your cheek while you’re leaning forward that you decide not to move back just yet. Your eyelids flutter open to find that Harry’s face is dangerously close to yours now, and you can’t stop yourself when you glance down to his lips. “Hi,” he says, his voice raspy and just barely above a whisper, and you can’t help but smile, practically beaming as you repeat the word back to him.

“Have you had a good birthday?” He murmurs, thumb stroking your cheek lightly.

“The best,” you assure him, and he’s smiling now, too.

“’M gonna’ kiss you now,” he informs, and it catches you off guard, but really, how could you ever object to that? But you’ve got to tease him a bit first, because you’re you.

“Are you really?” You question, and he licks his lips and lets his eyes fall to yours, a small grin plastered to his face.

“I think so,” he answers, and you raise an eyebrow.

“’S all I’ve been able to think about since I first saw you tonight,” he murmurs, and you feel the butterflies in your tummy all over again.

“Okay,” you whisper, and he doesn’t waste another second after he’s gotten the go ahead from you to press his lips to yours for the first time.

Kissing Harry is nothing like you had ever imagined. It’s even better than that, no matter how cliché you know that thought alone is. It’s the truth. He’s got the softest lips in the world, and you don’t want to go another day of your life without having them on your own, you decide. He’s gentle and sweet, but after a long moment on tentative kisses, he squeezes your hip and licks open the seam of your lips, deepening the kiss, and you do your best to place the cupcake down. He tastes like the red wine the two of you have been sipping and something else that is just undeniably Harry. He must notice your awkward movements, though, because he’s laughing quietly when he pulls away.

“You good, love?” He questions, and the pet name sends chills down your spine, even if he’s been calling you that since the first day that you met him. You’re quick to nod, because there’s not one part of you that wants him to think you didn’t thoroughly enjoy kissing him and don’t want to continue. Because you really, really did and you really, really do. “Yeah, you’re – you’re sort of perfect, actually,” you tell him, and he lets his eyes flick over your face slowly. “Should I keep kissin’ you, then?” He asks, and you lean back in, closer this time, your hand on the base of his neck, and you kiss him in answer.

You don’t know when or how it happens, but before you’ve had time to process what’s happening or even discuss it, Harry’s hovering over you on the palette of blankets he made a few hours ago before he had gone to pick you up. You’re under him, of course, and you’re not sure you remember what life was like fifteen minutes ago when you were still someone who had never kissed Harry Styles. Pretty terrible, is what you assume. You also don’t know when he slotted his hips to yours and your legs had spread for him to fit himself between, but apparently that had happened, as well, because you nearly moan into the kiss when he grinds against you for the first time. It’s a moment or two after that, when he slides his hand up your leg, beneath the dress and over your thigh, that you break the suddenly very heated kiss to pull back and stare up at him, your breathing heavy already.

“Are you sure about this?” You murmur, because you feel like it’s something the two of you at least need to talk about a little before it goes any further, but Harry’s hand is still gripping your thigh and your skin feels like it’s burning beneath his touch, his eyes dark and staring right into yours. He stays like that for a moment – just looking at you. His hair is a bit messier than normal and his lips are bruised from kissing you, his cheeks flushed a pretty rose color, and you’re angry that it’s taken this long for you to ever get to see him like this. When he speaks, you don’t expect his voice to sound even lower than it usually does – slower, too – but you’re practically dripping at that alone.

“God – fuck, yes. This is all I’ve thought about for – I don’t even know how long, Y/N. I want this. I want you,” He assures, and you nod quickly just before he’s kissing you again.

When he brushes the pads of his fingers over your clit through the lace of your panties, you can’t help the little noise of approval that sounds from the back of your throat as your lips move against his. When he smirks into the kiss, you nearly lose it. You’ve imagined this scenario more times than you’d ever admit, but to finally have Harry’s big, lovely hands on you, to feel him against you – in this way – it’s quite literally a dream come true. You’re grinning against his lips when you feel him pushing the dress he insisted you wear up to bunch around the upper half of your torso, and you think that’s when it hits you that you’re really about to fuck your best friend in his backyard on your birthday. It’s the greatest gift you could ever be given.

You feel his lips trailing down your neck, then, and you suck in a breath when you feel him sucking a bruise into your skin. That’s nothing new; you’ve gotten a million hickeys from Harry in the four years that you’ve known him – just playful little bruises and marks he’d leave scattered on your skin when he was feeling particularly affectionate (or possessive, whatever the case might be). You remember the first time he had done it — how you’d tensed up the moment you felt his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, peppering little kisses here and there, because it was uncharted territory for the two of you. Sure you had cuddled, in fact you were then, but things had never escalated into anything more than that. ’What are you doing?’ You had asked through a breath of a laugh, just as Harry let his teeth scrape against your skin for the first time, and your lips had parted in surprise. ’Lovin’ on ya’,’ he had told you, and you couldn’t quite muster the strength to tell him to stop after that. Instead, you loved and cherished each and every lovebite he ever gifted to you, even when they were just friendly.

What’s different about this one, though, is the sentiment that’s behind it. You don’t know what’s going to happen from here, after tonight, but you do know that Harry’s kissed you like you’ve never been kissed before, and he’s spent much longer than usual perfecting the purpling bruise on the side of your neck. It isn’t until he’s certain that he has the promise of seeing the blooming bruise just barely faded a week from now that he moves on. He needs it, you think – he needs the proof that this happened, the reminder of how you spent your birthday. It sends a chill down your spine and you wrap a leg around his waist in an effort to get the slightest bit of friction against where you need him most.

“Harry,” you breathe, and he hums in response, pressing kisses over the cleavage your dress has on display. When you push his shirt up just as he had your dress, he takes the liberty in pulling away, though reluctantly, just to pull the cotton fabric up and over his head, tossing it off to the side. “Do you still insist on me wearing this dress?” You murmur, teasing him, your hands resting on his hips and thumbs tracing over the laurels inked into each side, and he smirks down at you, a quiet laugh sounding from him. “Y’takin’ it off, ‘r ‘m ruining it,” Harry tells you, and you sit up to pull the loose fabric off over your head. It leaves you exposed, save for what little is being covered by your knickers, and you notice the way Harry swallows as your head hits the pillows.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” is the next thing out of his mouth, and he leans down to press a searing kiss to your lips, and you bury a hand in the longer tufts of hair at the back of his head as he licks into your mouth. You’re quite certain Harry’s the only person you want to kiss for the rest of your life, and you think you could probably do it every minute of every hour everyday. “I need you,” you tell him, and he nods, dropping a kiss to your bare shoulder. “We’ll get there. Gonna’ give you everything you need, lovely,” he murmurs, kissing back down your neck, between the valley of your breasts, and you arch up against him when he flicks his tongue over your nipple for the first time. He sucks it into his mouth just after, teeth scraping the sensitive bud while he busies a hand with your right breast. You press his head down against your tits a bit firmer, the quietest moan sounding from you as he licks, sucks, and nibbles at your skin, knowing there are sure to be marks from this, as well. It’s when you drag your fingertips over the outline of his cock through his jeans that you feel his mouth drop off to the side and his attack of kisses continues, until he’s move back up to kiss you once again. You let your fingers find the button of his jeans and pop it easily, unzipping and slipping your hand inside to palm at him over his boxer briefs.

“Please,” you half whine, and Harry’s hips push forward when you grip his dick, pressing your thumb against the head firmly through the fabric. He gasps at the touch, and he finds his way down between your thighs not even a minute later. Your hips lift when he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them down your legs with ease, careful to place them off with the rest of your discarded clothes. You smile at that, but your breathing increases rapidly when he places a wet kiss to the inside of your thigh. It’s not the first he’s ever given head, but he feels so hesitant, nervous now, because it’s you, and he wants this to be the best he can possibly give. He makes a noise in the back of his throat when he uses two fingers and spreads you open, because you’re so wet. You’re so fucking wet, and it’s all because of him – for him, and he feels his dick twitch at the acknowledgement.

You can’t help the way your legs try to wrap around Harry’s head when he presses his tongue to your clit, but his hands are firm and strong and he uses them to keep you spread for him. When the flat of his tongue licking at your clit turns into a soft kiss being pressed there instead, you think you may start crying. You’re quite literally aching for him, and you’re needy for anything he’s offering to you, but that’s teasing and it’s not fair because it’s your birthday and he’s Harry and he promised months ago he’d give you anything you wanted on this day. What you want is for him to fuck you until it hurts. You consider telling him that, but instead you opt for being patient, because Harry’s licking between your folds with the rough of his tongue, and you’re tossing your head back in response. You can feel the short curls at the sides of his head tickling the inside of your thighs, and you reach to push a hand back through his hair, tugging and grinding up against his mouth. He practically buries his face in your cunt after that, presses his tongue against you harder, and you let out a cry of his name. He licks at your entrance for only a moment, getting you wet with his tongue there, and then he latches onto your clit, sucking harshly.

Harry presses two fingers inside of you only a second after, and he’s not sure if he’s ever felt someone so wet for him, and he can only imagine how incredible your cunt is going to feel wrapped around him – tight, wet, and warm. It’ll feel a bit like heaven, probably. If he weren’t determined to have you come at least twice tonight, he’d slip inside of you right away. With that idea in his mind, though, he can’t help but to drop his free hand hand down between the two of you and let it wrap around his cock, pulling himself from the constricting fabrics and squeezing at the base. He works his hand over himself in time with the way he’s fucking his fingers into you, and the sight of all that he’s doing between your legs only pushes you closer to the edge. “’M gonna’ cum,” you say, informing him of your impending orgasm, as if he doesn’t feel you clenching around his fingers with every thrust. “Please, Harry, fuck –” you whine, and you pull harshly at his hair, torn between grinding up against where he’s sucking your clit and fucking yourself down onto his fingers harder.

“Cum,” he starts, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of your thigh just after, his fingers fucking into you quicker, “Cum for me, baby. Cum around my fingers, ‘nd ‘ll fuck your pretty little cunt right after,” he promises, and you moan louder than you have all night just at his words. It’s the filthiest thing you’ve ever heard him say, and you’re certain that you only get wetter, if it’s even possible at this point. He just smirks as he firms the tip of his tongue against your clit, and that combined with the way the tips of his fingers are petting at the inside of your walls is what sends you right over the edge. You come harder than you ever have, and for a moment you think you’ve blacked out, because it’s so fucking good – Harry makes you feel so fucking good.

Your vision is a bit blurred when you do finally open your eyes, and Harry’s still licking at your pussy – cleaning up the mess you’d made, or at least that what he says. You’re convinced he’s just got a thing for having his mouth on you. When he does finally kiss his way back up to your lips, you moan into his mouth at the taste of yourself on his tongue. “Fuck me,” you breathe, and Harry nudges his nose against yours and lets out a little laugh even though you can feel his cock hard and leaking precum against your thigh.

“Eager,” he teases, and you smirk up at him.

“’S my birthday,” you point out, and he grins, catching your lips in short lived kiss. “It is,” he agrees, and you scratch your nails against the nape of his neck like you know he loves.

“I’ve wanted this for forever,” you confess, hoping that will somehow hurry him along, but you just see him smile wider.

“Forever?” He half whispers, to which you nod, and he pushes a bit of hair back out of your face.

“Me too,” he tells you, and you reach to push his jeans down past his hips.

Once he’s shucked his jeans and briefs off, he fits himself back between your legs, and you feel his hard cock drag through your wet folds as he leans in to kiss you again. You clench around nothing at all when you feel him slide over your entrance, and the head of his cock bumps against your clit. Harry nips your bottom lip. “Please get inside ‘f me,” you beg, and it comes out much more blunt than your other requests have, but that could be because you feel like you’ve been begging him to fuck you for hours. You need it more than you’ve ever needed anything – at least that’s what you’ve convinced yourself of as of right now. Harry, apparently, decides it’s time he stops making you wait for what you’ve wanted since he first slotted his hips against yours, because he wraps a hand around his cock and presses the slick head to your entrance.

When he pushes into you, you dig your nails into his shoulder and let out a dry sob at the feeling of the thick of his cock stretching your cunt. It’s so good, and you feel so, so full. Of Harry, at that – you’ve got Harry’s cock buried to the hilt inside of you, and you can’t help the way you clench around him at the thought. “So fuckin’ tight, baby,” he murmurs around that same time, his fingertips digging into your hips, and your lips are parted in a silent moan. You can feel every inch of him – your best friend in the whole goddamn world – inside of you, and you’re so overwhelmed with it all that you feel like you could cry. When he pulls out just to fuck back into you the first time, you let your nails that were already digging into his shoulder drag down his back and he moans into your neck at the feeling of it. “You feel so good,” you confess, and he kisses over the massive bruise he had created minutes before as his hips rock against yours, fucking you in earnest.

You had always imagined Harry would be a good fuck, but fuck if he doesn’t live up to all expectations and then some. He’s so big and lovely – everywhere, not just his prick (although that most certainly is, too) – and you can feel him all over you as he fucks into your cunt, bare and ensuring that you feel each and every glorious inch of him. Harry quite likes that he’s able to see you falling apart beneath him after he watched you get all dressed up, he realizes. He watched as you made sure every hair on your head had a perfect place and was in it, he watched as you applied your makeup slowly and carefully, and now he’s watching as he undoes absolutely every bit of it. It’s driving him mad. You’re driving him mad. So he fucks you harder and a cry of pleasure escapes you.

“Fuckin’ squeezin’ me, doll,” he mumbles, and he’s got his eyes focused on your tits bouncing as he drives his cock into you, and he’s got grunts and moans alike escaping him because of the feeling and the view. Each and every noise that sounds from him sends you closer to your second orgasm of the night, and you’re sure to let him know how close you’re getting again. “Wanna’ make you cum,” you murmur, and he shakes his head, half of a laugh leaving him. “Y’say it like ‘m not about t’bust any minute,” he says, and you laugh, and you love the fact that the two of you are laughing while he’s fucking you as hard as he can. You wrap a hand around his wrist and then drag it up his arm that’s braced by your head, digging your fingers into his bicep and he grinds into your cunt slowly for a moment – both of you just enjoying the feel of each other.

“Inside,” you tell him, and he blinks at you, looking confused and you bite your lip. “I want to make you cum inside me,” you explain, and his hips stutter, and you press yours up against his, and he nods. He wedges a hand between the two of you and presses his fingers against your clit not a minute later, and you moan and bury your face in his neck, hips jolting when he starts rubbing your little bundle of nerves in tight, quick circles. “Fuck,” you practically sob, and you can feel the way your legs have began to tremble around his waist, and the tight knot in the pit of your stomach let’s you know that you’re going to snap at any second. Harry must notice it, too, from the way your cunt is pulsing around him, and he presses his fingers against you harder. “Let go, sweetheart,” he whispers, his lips right against the shell of your ear, and you gasp at the hard thrust he gives you just after, the way he fucks you like his life is depending on it, and you’re not sure whose orgasm he’s really chasing right now.

When you do come, you’re loud and drenching his cock, but you think it’s fair considering it only takes you coming around him to have him coating your walls. You’re not even sure if it’s the actual orgasm or the feeling of Harry’s come inside of you that’s making you feel as good as you do. You pull back from his shoulder to find imprints of where you had bitten him as you came, and you realize you feel a couple of wet tears rolling down your cheeks a second after. You’ve never cried during sex, not even from coming hard, but you suppose there’s a first time for everything. You just hope Harry doesn’t think that he’s done something wrong, because it’s literally the exact opposite. You’re overwhelmed because it feels so good. You’re overwhelmed because it’s Harry, your best friend since you left everything you’ve ever known and moved to a completely different country. You’re overwhelmed because you fucking love him more than anything in this world, and for the first time you’re letting yourself believe that he may be in love with you, too.

Harry’s checking up on you, just as you suspected he’d do, just as soon as you feel a tear actually roll down your cheek, and he cups said cheek and thumb the droplet away. “You okay, baby?” He murmurs, and his voice sounds so sweet and soft and caring, and you can’t help how quickly you nod to reassure him that he’s fine – more than fine. He’s perfect. This is everything you’ve ever wanted. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted. “I am – I just – love you. I love you so much,” you breathe out, and it comes out before you realize how honest it is, but on the other hand, he’s still got his cock inside of you, as well as his cum, so it’s probably time to be honest with him – all things considered. He gives you the softest smile you think you’ve ever seen at that, and you kiss him back when he leans down and his mouth finds yours. “I love you,” he murmurs against your lips, “so much.”

He pulls out of you after a few more moments pass and you’re both too sensitive to take anymore. When he rolls off to your side, he’s quick to pull you toward himself, and he drops a kiss to the tip of your nose and then to your lips. “Think that’s the quickest I’ve ever had a birthday wish come true,” you murmur, grinning when you feel his fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

“You wished for me t’fuck you in the backyard? Scandalous,” he teases, and you swat at his chest.

“No. I wished for the same thing I wished for when I was thirteen,” you tell him, and he beams almost instantly, pressing you closer.

“I’m glad it didn’t take you turning thirty to realize ‘m the love ‘f your life,” he says, and it comes out playful, but he’s not wrong, is the thing.

“Me too,” you agree. He kisses you after that, tugs the blanket up over the two of you, and you wrap your arms around his middle.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, and you drop one to his chest in acknowledgement.

You’re not sure he realizes this is the happiest birthday you’ve ever had, but it definitely is.

#harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles oneshot #is it still true that one the first 5 tags work #i don't know #anyway #mw #:D

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clairekatswritingcorner · 7 years

Text

Unexpected Casualty

Word Count: 2,048

Summary: Visiting a new city through their travels across the universe, Eva, Spirit, and Aikka find themselves caught up in an unexpected scuffle.

*Author’s Note*: This title is super ominous but uhhhhhh. Lol. I........really dropped the ball on this one, and I’m sorry it’s so late ;~; but my SUPER GOOD FRIEND @aepaex had a very special and important birthday this past Tuesday, and I finally finished this gift I was writing for her! I’m sorry it’s a little belated, but I really hope it’s still enjoyable, and I just have to say again HAPPY BELATED BDAY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!

Another day, another new and interesting place to explore. At least, that was Eva’s mindset when she and her entourage arrived at a new destination on a foreign planet. This time the city seemed to be a bustling hub for a variety of aliens to congregate and sell their wares, and Eva was already excited to see what this place had in store for them. Aikka had dropped she and Spirit off so they could head into the main part of the city while he found a place to dock G’dar. Spirit and Aikka were currently still her only two companions on this spontaneous journey, although she knew that in their free time Aikka was busy trying to coordinate meet ups so they could add a few more members to the group. What she didn’t know were the specific details of said plan in terms of where and when and who, but that was alright. Eva enjoyed a certain element of surprise in her travels across the cosmos, and as she strolled through the market stands that lined the streets she perused their wealth of alien wares with glee.

Spirit strolled close behind her, observing both the stands and the crowd around them. The atmosphere seemed unusually dense and chaotic, different from what Spirit had experienced in other crowded locales. Perhaps there was some underlying emotional disruption going on, or something that had happened that left an unpleasant impression on the area and its inhabitants. Spirit couldn’t put his finger on it, but he supposed that as long as nothing dangerous or disruptive happened it wasn’t a big deal. After all, he was here to enjoy whatever this place had to offer as much as Eva and Aikka. He was just as excited to discover what surprises the universe had in store throughout their interplanetary travels. Although he and Aikka had markedly more experience with such a thing than Eva, there were sectors of the universe that they’d both had yet to visit, and visiting with Eva always made things more interesting.

Eva was an experience in and of herself. Being around her enhanced experiences in a completely unique way; without her around, it was like the luster of life dulled just a little. She had helped Spirit start to see many things in new ways, something that he was deeply grateful for. Agreeing to partake in this journey across the galaxy with both Eva and Aikka, Spirit felt like perhaps he finally belonged somewhere.

Of course, he always felt like he had a place as a racer, but he didn’t have an abundance of close friends back on his home planet. Sometimes when he dwelled on the reality of his loneliness, he began to long to make more meaningful connections with other Phils and even other species of aliens in general. Considering how Phils typically looked, acted, and communicated, it was usually hard for them to reach out to species who had never heard of or experienced them firsthand. It was harder still to break down the barrier of misunderstanding and confusion without inducing more of those same feelings or even eliciting fear.

Speaking of fear, the uneasiness in the air only seemed to be growing, and its effects were really starting to weigh on Spirit. Eva didn’t seem to notice as she aimlessly wove through the crowd, holding Spirit’s hand as she chattered on about random things that she noticed or that drew her attention. Spirit thought that he had been doing an alright job of just commenting or replying to her when it felt appropriate to do so since their hands were connected, but as they made it to the center of the small trading area Eva turned around and grasped both of Spirit’s hands firmly.

“Something’s bothering you, what’s going on? You can tell me.”

Spirit was surprised by her sudden bluntness, his focus on trying to analyze the weird feeling inside him disrupted. He panicked a bit, realizing that in his distraction he’d probably let some of his less pleasant feelings bleed into her mind. He apologized quickly before attempting to change the subject, but Eva just tightened her grip on his hands, a frown forming on her lips.

“Don’t lie to me, you don’t have to,” she explained, drawing Spirit to a less crowded section of the square. “I know something’s up, and I don’t like being kept out of the loop. No matter what it is, I can handle it, and you can trust me. We’re in this together now anyway, aren’t we? So fill me in.”

Spirit didn’t necessarily like having to divulge information that might lead to further conflict, but to a point Eva was right. If there was something lurking that Spirit sensed, the courteous thing to do as someone who was invited to join her and the Nourasian Prince on their open ended expedition was to share his thoughts with her. Then again, despite how much Eva thought she knew, and how much she had already been through, there were still limits to where she was permitted to stick her nose. If Spirit could help it, he wouldn’t lead her further down a path to trouble. They’d all already had enough of that for a lifetime. But there was also a familiar presence in the mixture of conflict that Spirit sensed, and that tidbit of information came in strong and fast enough that he didn’t have time to mitigate the transfer of his thoughts.

“Aikka…something involving Aikka?” Eva asked, her expression shifting rapidly from confusion to worry to determination. “He’s in a fight with someone…where is he? What’s going on? When did this start, Spirit, you have to--”

Too many things were happening at once and Spirit yanked his hand away, not sure what course of action he wanted to take next. He was thoroughly disappointed in himself for not exercising more restraint, especially knowing the kind of impusliveness Eva was prone to, but none of that really mattered in the wake of what occurred next. Spirit and Eva’s eyes darted to the sky in unison as two great beetles rose up over the city. Flashes of light from clashing spells shooting from their backs intensified the midday light illuminating the streets. Eva and Spirit stood glued to the spot as they both realized Aikka was locked in some form of unexpected combat with another Nourasian, or at least another alien who happened to be riding the same kind of beast as G’dar and holding off Aikka’s attacks with similar magic.

“Spirit, c’mon, we have to help him!”

Spirit didn’t know what Eva meant, or how she thought they’d be able to do anything from their current position, but as she took his hand and started sprinting through the crowd her thoughts made everything known. Spirit somehow felt that her rash plan would turn out to be an acceptable course of action, and as the two burst forth into a clearing between buildings Spirit followed the lead that Eva had set out for him in his mind. Shifting forms, he morphed into his racing appearance, a large, silent, sleek body that startled and cleared out the rest of the lingering bystanders. Eva clamored onto his back quickly, and as soon as he felt her fingers secure in his fur he took off.

Eva had a small pistol strapped to her waist that was able to fire various types of alien ammunition, from bullets simply meant to stun to those of a more lethal variety. She loaded a flash generating round into the weapon as Spirit sliced through the air, cutting between the two warring aliens to break up their barrage of attacks. Aikka and G’dar staggered back, and Aikka’s eyes grew wide with surprise and relief at the sight of his friends. He knew he’d probably be in big trouble with them later for getting wrapped up in such a scuffle, but there would be plenty of time for explanations later.

“Aikka, get out of here!” Eva called as Spirit curved back around, coming to a stop between the two hovering aliens. He tried to get a good look at Aikka’s opponent and glean anything he could before either of them starting attacking again. “We’re causing too much of a scene, and there are too many civilians around to continue a battle here. Someone’s gonna get hurt if we don’t--”

“You’re the only one who’s gonna be getting hurt!”

Aikka’s opponent launched another magic attack, and Spirit barely reacted quickly enough to guard Eva from being struck. His wing hissed in the wake of the burn the attack inflicted on him, and Eva shot the explosive flash from her gun before placing her hand on Spirit and instructing him to retreat immediately. She gestured a similar signal to Aikka, shooting off a smoke grenade to give them some cover as the trio fled to a more safe, secluded area of the city. Although both G’dar and Spirit were considerably big and hard to miss as they soared across the city, Aikka was able to cast some magic that disguised their trail at least part of the way. As soon as they landed Eva slid off Spirit’s back, waiting for him to return to his bipedal form before both she and Aikka descended upon him to inspect his injury.

“Are you okay, is this going to be alright?” Eva rapidly inquired, her panic evident as Aikka placed a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Calm down, he’s going to be alright. Let me take a look at it, I’m sure it’s nothing some magic and a bandage can’t fix.”

“I thought your magic was offense based?” Eva pointed out as the Prince took Spirit’s arm and examined it. The fur was slightly singed, but nothing major. Although Spirit flinched a bit, the pain wasn’t excruciating, and he knew that Aikka was speaking the truth. A quick medicinal treatment and some rest would have him back to normal in no time; in the meantime Eva was still frazzled and intent on getting as many answers about the situation she could.

“What was all that about?” she interrogated Aikka as he began chanting something over Spirit’s wound, a gentle blue glow appearing and pulsating around it. “Who was that, and why were you fighting, and are they gonna be able to track us, and--”

“It’s going to be alright, Eva,” Aikka reassured, smiling at her softly.

Spirit could feel the pain in his arm starting to ebb, the sensation turning to numbness as Aikka ceased his chanting. He fetched a bandage from his bag and wrapped the wound neatly, and Spirit thanked Aikka with a grateful nod. Although he was relieved to have his wound treated, Spirit was mildly concerned about the ways in which this injury would prevent him from shapeshifting. Hopefully their group would be able to procure some temporary transportation until he was fully recovered, since he wasn’t sure G’dar would do the trick. “It was just an unexpected scuffle. I don’t know who they are, and we might cross paths with them again, but this time I’ll be ready.”

“We’ll all be ready,” Eva added, placing a hand on Spirit’s good arm as she let her feelings of apology and sympathy flow to him. “I’m really sorry both of you got dragged into whatever that was. I think it would be best if we stayed somewhere outside the city tonight.”

Their journey had barely begun, and already the trio was starting to make unknown enemies. Spirit had a hunch, however, that if the assailant had very well been Nourasian, there was a deeper plot brewing beneath the surface. The universe had undoubtedly changed since the events of the Great Race of Oban, and forces beyond comprehension were still at work behind the scenes. Feelings, actions, and paths were all being manipulated to lead the survivors to a new destination, a new fate. Perhaps Aikka’s scuffle and Spirit’s injury were signs of the adversity that would follow them from now on. Either way, Spirit didn’t want himself or his friends to have to face such misfortune. Together, hopefully they would all be able to find a way to avoid such calamity. After all, they’d made it this far.

#oban star racers #eva wei #molly wei #prince aikka #spirit #spirit osr #spirit (oban star racers)#osr #oban star-racers #my writing #claire writes #aepaex #one shot #gift fic #HAPPY BIRTHDAY I'M SORRY THAT THIS IS WHAT I MADE LOL #i hope it's still enjoyable somehow tho

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