#i just feel slapped in the face after genuine efforts i’ve made to stop being an annoying bitch and picking everything apart to get to its | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkedtae · 4 years

Text

starfruit ⇾ jhs. [M]

𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ camboy!hoseok x curvy!reader

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 ⇾ s2l, livecam au, smut, pwp, filth, 18+

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ⇾ one video is all it takes to realize you’re all he wants.

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ⇾ 20.2k

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ⇾ camboy!hoseok, dom!hoseok, big dicc!hoseok, ass enthusiast!hoseok, nose piercing!hoseok, curvy!reader, sub!reader, shy!reader, nipple piercing!reader, vague mention of alcohol, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), rough sex, tongue kink, lowkey corruption kink, dirty talk, creampie, double penetration, reverse cowgirl position, sixty-nine position, oral (m. and f. receiving), degradation, overstimulation, mutual masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, use of star shaped vibrator, multiple orgasms, body worshipping, cum-eating, face licking, choking, dry-humping, a lil hair-pulling, spanking, swearing, begging, biting, clit biting, motorboating, fingering, rimming, ass job, ass play, spit play, breast play, a tad bit of jealousy/possessiveness for the win, star sparkling filth

𝒶𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒 ⇾ hobi thirst hours:open

✩ banner by ⇾ @dee-ehn (thank you again dear~)

✩ beta’d by ⇾ @kitsutaes (darling luff~) and @moonmintrails (my luffly soulmate~)

✩ le playlist

Blinds shut, doors locked. The routine is second nature at this point. Hoseok dims his lights before checking his hair in the mirror. He sighs at his reflection, hoping this lazy look of his is good enough for tonight’s live. Already shirtless, Hoseok sports baggy, grey sweatpants that hang dangerously low on his hips, while his semi-hard cock is just barely visible.

A good enough tease, he thinks after one last glance. Or at least let’s hope it is.

He can’t bring himself to care too much about what is or isn’t “properly shown.” Maybe a year ago, or even six months ago, he would’ve made sure he was completely hard, his bulge unmistakingly visible through his sweatpants, and not have dimmed the lights. Now, however, it seems as though all he wants to do is the bare minimum. He’ll show as much as he needs to, get off as well as he has to, put on a good enough show to keep his viewers satisfied… for now.

Still, even the bare minimum requires a certain degree of effort. Making his way to his desk, Hoseok scrolls through his phone and turns on his playlist for tonight. The first suggestive song tickles out of the speakers and softly fills the room. Getting off on camera is only half the job of being a camstreamer. Setting the tone, giving the audience an experience to crave, is the other half.

As The Weeknd’s melody continues to hop between the walls of his bedroom, Hoseok makes sure his camera is properly set. Usually, he’d be making himself comfortable on his bed, preparing a variety of toys by his side to play with. Tonight is different. Tonight, Hoseok lacks the motivation to play around for an audience. In fact, if he’s being honest with himself, he’s been lacking that motivation for a while. Tonight, he wants nothing more than to sit at his desk and use his hand to get himself off. Back to the basics, the bare minimum.

He looks forward to reading comments while he searches for the courage to share his news. He’s been thinking about this for a while, thinking about retiring from this kind of work. After three years of being on this site, he has cultivated a good following of viewers, but now the entire ordeal just seems… tiring. He loves sharing parts of himself to the camera, some more than others, but it feels like a chapter of his life that he has somewhat outgrown. Now, the entire job feels more like a chore. Not much pleasure, besides the one he stimulates himself, can be found before a camera anymore.

There’s something about the distance between him and others that he somewhat loathes now. Before, Hoseok found the disconnect, the stringless affair of live after live to be a comfort. He believed he could come and go as he pleased. He’d have fun with others at a safe enough proximity to fool around without the fear of catching serious feelings. It was a solid plan, until it wasn’t. All Hoseok craves now is that spark between him and another. And the more time he spends live streaming, the more he realizes how lonely it is.

His camera starts to flash, signaling it’s going to start recording in about fifteen seconds. Hoseok lets the red gleam pull him out of his thoughts as he stands up. He shoves his hands in his pockets and tenses his stomach a bit. He doesn’t have ripped abs, but he’s fit enough to give off that impression. The light stops flashing, shining a bright red to let him know the live has started. Cutting just under his nose, the camera captures his entire torso and just a bit under his hips. Views immediately pour in as do comments and some cash.

Hoseok chuckles a bit, watching as viewers beg him to drop his pants. The attention is just enough to get him fully hard. That’s one crutch Hoseok seems to have trouble letting go of; the attention.

Licking his lips, he starts to palm himself through his pants. He lets out a shaky sigh then pulls his chair forward and takes a seat once again. He leaves some room between him and the desk though as he slouches a bit and makes sure that they can see his hard-on through his loose sweatpants. With the camera rolling, Hoseok has no other choice but to play along, one last time at least.

“Hey,” he forces a smile. “Everyone ready for a relaxed night?”

[agustwantsthatd] : no toys tonight?

He shakes his head. “No toys,” he replies, continuing to rub himself over his pants. “Nothing fancy tonight. I hope that’s alright.”

Hoseok laughs to himself a bit at the mixed reactions. His aim to have a relaxed evening costs him a couple thousand viewers. In the past, something like that would’ve scared him enough to make him immediately drop his pants and move the show to his bed. But, now, he really can’t bring himself to feel even the slightest bit worried.

Just a few less people to break the news to.

Comments begging him to just take his sweats off start to stack. Hoseok runs his tongue across his teeth, puffing his bottom lip out while glaring at the comment section. He doesn’t appreciate being told what to do very often. Most of the time, he just does what he wants while talking to some to his audience like he’s fucking them instead of whatever toy he usually goes for. His patience for their attitude is wearing thin. They almost don’t treat him like a real person sometimes, talking to him like an object. It may have been what he wanted before, the distance, the ability to keep himself unattainable, but now it’s becoming something of a pet peeve.

[starfruit340] : it’s only been a day, but i’ve missed you. Hope you’ve been well.

Hoseok only just catches the kind comment before it’s casted off by another pile of demands, smiling at his screen. That Starfruit is always too nice for her own good. All her comments are gentle requests, sometimes even sweet nothings. Once he even caught her asking him how his day was and if he’s eating well. He’s not sure what a sweet soul like that is doing on a site like this. He has realized, in the last six months or so, that she’s been the only viewer to remind him of his humanity. Her ability to look passed the charade of his has been refreshing. He wonders if she knows, if she can tell he hasn’t been his best.

“Starfruit,” he breathes as comments questioning his sudden smile flood in. “You’re too sweet for your own good, honey.”

[starfruit340] : did he just say starfruit?

Immediately, Hoseok regrets his words, realizing his mistake. Not even a rookie would call a user out by name. A few viewers have turned on the user, bashing her for the favouritism he just displayed. “No fighting or nothing comes off,” Hoseok threatens, raising a brow. A smile plays on his lips as some users scold each other to stay in line.

[agustwantsthatd] : let’s not forget the real fruit we all want.

Hoseok has to keep himself from laughing at the comment. He doesn’t want to start anything else and that comment seems to be enough to keep everyone focused on him, so he doesn’t want to ruin it’s progress.

“Since you’ve all behaved yourselves,” he starts, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats. “The pants are coming off.”

He pushes the sweats down, lifting his hips a bit. His huge cock slaps his stomach once exposed, then stands tall. Kicking the pants off his ankles under the desk, Hoseok returns his hand around his veiny member, storking himself a couple of times.

It seems like his remark to Starfruit has made some viewers adopt her sense of concern for him. They begin asking about his day and if he’s doing well. He bites back the sneer that wavers the smile on his face. Though he would like to believe that their concern for his well being is genuine, he knows they’re only saying that in hopes to get his attention.

Hoseok can’t play around it for much longer. He forces a smile, replying, “My day was fine, darling. How was yours?”

Slowly pumping himself, he reads a few more comments then lays back in his chair. His usual cocky expression falters, a fact he’s not very proud of. He replies to some more users to cover it up, plastering on a fake smile long enough to avoid any questions on “what’s wrong.”

Hoseok falls silent, squirting some lube into his hand to help get himself off. He lets a few good moans out, closing his eyes and getting lost in the pleasure rather than focusing on the broadcast. His cock’s getting needier as he just slightly tightens his grip and moves his hand faster over himself. Rolling his hips into his hand, he sucks in a sharp breath.

The void within him cannot be pleased with one lousy hand job. Hoseok tries to refocus his attention on the live stream, hoping he might rediscover that forgotten thrill of exposing himself to everyone. However, the closer he gets to his orgasm, the clearer Hoseok realizes that the only thrill lies merely in the pleasure of getting off rather than doing it for an audience.

He huffs under his breath and rests his head back against his chair. Forget the camera and the thousands of people watching him get himself closer to his high. Hoseok realizes that if he’s going to cum right now, he’s going to have to attach his loneliness to something, someone other than himself.

The first person in mind sparkles with kindness and Hoseok tells himself he’s only focusing his energy on her because he just wants to get all this over with already. But Hoseok can’t deny the swirl of excitement bubbling in his chest at the thought of her. He wonders if her voice is just as sweet as her words, eyes just as innocent as her soul. Pumping himself faster, he can’t help but think about her smile. Is it as bright and full of hope as her comments? Or does it delicately twinkle like her personality?

A staggered moan tears through his throat, adam’s apple bouncing, as his brows come together. Jaw clenches, nostrils flare, and Hoseok groans his pleasure through gritted teeth. Suddenly sprouting out his release, he gasps and rolls his body into his hand. Usually, he’d make a show of this, but he can’t deny it’s truth right now. The shots of cum land over his legs, some even on the ground but for the first time in a long time, Hoseok can’t care less. Chest still heaving, he tries to dump all thoughts of her from his mind but she’s tethered deeper within now.

Stringing a few curses, Hoseok mentally scolds himself for his inability to think tonight. Any other night, he would’ve pulled up some porn on his phone way before the camera started rolling and hid the lewd video from the viewers’ sight. He would’ve continued on his efforts to carry out the bare minimum.

But, thinking of her, attaching himself to a user he’d never even properly talked to, only further proves to him how important it is for him to leave this life behind. He’s desperate to fill a void and acts recklessly. The determination to break the news hits anew. He’s sure this is it this time. He’s going to tell them.

That determination trickles the moment he returns his attention on the screen. The comment section is going wild. His words get caught in his throat. A rush of cash floods in the tune of clattering coins. Praises follow commands and Hoseok is not sure if he can even keep his screen persona up for much longer, let alone drop the ball about leaving.

Eyes growing heavier, exhaustion slowly overtakes him. “I’m sorry for the quiet show tonight,” he mumbles, cleaning himself up. “It’s just…”

He stares at the comments, the view count, the amount of cash he made tonight and sighs. His courage falters, so that happy, hopeful image resurfaces. He forces a wide smile and shrugs. “I had a bit of a rough day, but hopefully tomorrow makes up for it. I’ll catch you all in the next live. Sleep well.”

Hoseok leaves them with the image of his fakest smile as he turns the camera off. His entire mask crumbles when it’s over. After cleaning himself off, Hoseok pulls on his pants and tries to convince himself that it just wasn’t the right time. He just got off to one of the users. He’s clearly not in the right state of mind to announce this kind of decision.

With a sigh, he switches his computer off then the music and crawls into bed. Face buried in his pillow, Hoseok waits for sleep to wash over him and hopes, with every fibre of his being, that the fear of telling them the truth doesn’t follow him into tomorrow.

A loud yawn leaves Hoseok as he shuffles back into his room. He shuts the door while taking a quick sip of his morning— well, mid-morning coffee. He’s not used to sleeping in since it always happens to throw his entire day off. He would’ve been fast asleep by eleven, but a neighbour of his, a couple of doors down, seemed to have other plans for the night. With all her moaning, Hoseok was barely able to get a wink of sleep. She wasn’t up for long, but just the fact that she had interrupted him in the middle of drifting to sleep was enough to keep him wide awake. Once he’s up, he’s up. There’s not much he could do about it.

With a tired sigh, Hoseok sets his mug on his desk and logs onto his computer. He makes it a habit to check the live website for new donors and sometimes even replies to some comments left last night. He hovers the cursor over a new post, wondering if a quick broadcast would break the news better. At the chime of a new message, Hoseok’s attention darts to his inbox.

[from starfruit134] : so sorry to bother you

Hoseok brings his brows together. Heart thumping, he immediately recognizes the username. His mind reels to last night, trying to recall if he said your name again. Did he maybe mutter it again when he was caught up in the act of getting him off? His fears intensify as he wonders if any of those viewers followed you into your inbox last night to leave some nasty comments. Maybe some were so hurtful you needed to reach out to him.

Confusion riddles his face when you debunk all his theories with a simple string of texts.

[from starfruit134] : hope all is well.

Hoseok’s fingers hover over the keyboard for a second. Should he really be engaging in a conversation with you? After all that’s transpired last night, the idea of privately talking to you has his stomach flipping with the flutters of butterfly wings.

He doesn’t know when he last talked to a girl like you though. And the more he stares at your username, the more he craves the sincere interaction of simply one person getting to know another.

[to starfruit134] : could always be worse. are you alright? did anyone bother you last night?

[from starfruit134] : no, no one bothered me. i just came to thank you for getting them off my back actually

A little smile plays on his lips upon reading your message. His heart murmurs, stunting his breath a bit by how sweet you can be.

[to starfruit134] : no need to thank me.

Hoseok’s about to reassure you that the entire interaction was his fault when you suddenly hit him with a question he wasn’t expecting.

[from starfruit134] : have you really been alright? you didn’t seem like you were feeling well last night.

You noticed? Hoseok furrows his brows, sitting back in his seat. His fingers brush against the letters as he tries to come up with a good enough lie, but he really can’t bring himself to type one out. He wonders how much you’ve picked up on. Can you see through his entire persona or just the fact that he’s lost the motivation to put in the same effort?

Swallowing thickly, Hoseok hopes his reply is enough to keep your questions at bay.

[to starfruit134] : just an off day

[from starfruit134] : ahhh i see.

[from starfruit134] : well, i have something for you.

[from starfruit134] : has sent a video

Hoseok bites his lip, a single brow quirking at the thumbnail. The first thing he notices is ass. Curved so beautifully, your ass struggles to remain contained in your yellow panties. If he had known you were this thick, he would’ve thought of you sooner. With a tilt of his head, he stares at your plump cheeks, smirking at hints of cellulite and lining stretch marks. A light blush colours his face and he has to pull himself out of the trance of the picture to properly return his attention to your messages.

[from starfruit134] : you must get this a lot. these kinds of videos.

You aren’t wrong. He receives videos like this multiple times on a daily basis. However, not a single one of these people have ever been so… kind. Many of them demand that he watch them, which only turns him off. Yes, maybe once or twice, Hoseok appreciates a guiding hand in his sexual endeavours online. But, off camera, all he wants is to be spoken to with a bit more kindness. It’s for this reason that he usually deletes all those videos without a second thought.

[from starfruit 134] : i don’t mean to bother you with mine. but, you looked so exhausted last night and i wanted to show you how much i appreciate your dedication to still live stream.

[from starfruit134] : also i’d love it if you could tell me what you think? maybe even offer a few pointers? i’m thinking about starting one of my own lives and i just wanna make sure i’m good enough.

The first message has him smiling, but the second one fades any happiness he thought he held. Of course, you’re here for a favour. Were your previous messages about his well-being serious, or were you just buttering him up to get him to comment on your video? Do you even really appreciate his efforts to put on a show?

His mind laps around a million doubts, but his heart intercepts the discussion with the reminder of your usual attitude and presence. You’re considerate, that fact being clear in the way you’ve always put his needs before yours. And even though he really is just some guy online, you’ve always treated him with a degree of humanity that others lacked. He doesn’t blame them, as he’s admitted to himself that he’s the one provoking their feral reactions. But the fact that you can switch between the two so seamlessly means something to him. A little sigh pushes past his lips. You’ve always seemed sincere enough, so why shouldn’t he give you the benefit of the doubt?

Hoseok sits back in his chair and rubs his chin, staring at that thumbnail. Just from a first glance, he knows you’d do well. A lot of the cam business centres around superficial tendencies and he can’t deny your beauty. He could easily ignore your message, like he does with others, or pretend to have viewed it and reply with a single word, “good.” But, something within him can’t let you go that easily.

Licking his lips, Hoseok reaches for the lube. He’s getting hard anyways and there’s still a whole day before his next live. After putting on his headphones, Hoseok takes a deep breath and starts the video, full screening it to make sure he gets every angle of your ass.

Lights dimmed, you smile shyly at the camera. A string of star shaped lights twinkle behind you, illuminating your room with a sensual glow. The quiet beat of a suggestive song can only just be picked up by the camera as you run a hand through your hair and toss it to the other side of your head. You’ve created quite an ambiance for him, one he definitely finds himself craving.

“Hi,” you giggle, biting your lip nervously. “I hope this is okay. I’ve never really done this before. You make it look so easy every night.”

Hoseok can’t help but smile with you, setting the lube down to just admire your cuteness for now. He just knew you had a stellar smile. Someone that nice has to have a cute smile to match it.

Fuck, she’s adorable.

He can’t keep his eyes off yours, even with your breasts squished in that tight shirt of yours. You have this endearing innocence that he’s not so used to. Dressed so slutty, looking so precious, you sit at your desk with your bed behind you. Hoseok is suddenly charged with the urge to ruin you, just laying you down on your bed and dicking you down so good, you’d never want to leave his side. He’s not really sure what you were so worried about. It’s rather obvious to him that you’d do great as a camgirl. Yet, the thought makes his heart twinge.

“Hmm,” you hum, looking up.

Hoseok can’t believe how cute you look even when you’re just thinking. He glances at the time of the video, cursing himself when he sees it's only been ten seconds and he’s already whipped for you. He wonders if this is an act, if you know exactly what you’re doing. One look into your nervous eyes let’s him know you’re clueless to your own charms.

“Well, I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time. You looked…” you trail off, chewing on your lip before slightly shaking your head and changing the course of your sentence. Still, Hoseok can fill in the blank you’ve left. You can tell he’s been off his game, he concludes. Now the question remains: how long have you known?

“I just wanted to know from the best if I’m cut out for this kind of…” Pausing, you search for the right word. “Fun.”

With a deep breath, you let your shoulders fall a bit and let your gaze wander only to look back at the camera like you just remembered something. “Oh, I guess I should show you what I’m wearing first, right? Why am I asking? He can’t reply.”

Hoseok chuckles a bit at your little rant. He licks his lips to whisper, “it’s okay, honey. Show me what you’ve got.”

As you get up, Hoseok shifts in his seat. Jaw going slack, he has to remind himself to breathe. You stand up and show off that tiny, little yellow crop top you’re wearing with those matching lace panties that hug your curves all too well. Fisting his hands, Hoseok lowly growls, wanting to rip them right off while he’s thrusting into you. He knows he’s barely seen anything yet, but he’s already nudging his underwear off. Inhaling a sharp breath, he watches his screen intently as you slowly show off your body. Giving your back to the camera, you cup the underside of your ass then use your fingers to shake each cheek. Your ass jiggles even though you’ve barely touched it.

“Oh, shit,” Hoseok sighs, melting back into his seat. How the fuck can it move like that? With each shake, your cheeks bounce up in waves. He rests a hand over his mouth, brows furrowing, as he watches you tease the fuck out of him. At least three new ways to fuck you come to mind every time you shyly look over your shoulder at the camera.

You give each cheek a good rub then stand with your legs hip length apart and lean forward enough to just stick your ass out. Hoseok’s just about to wonder what you’re up to when you start to bounce a bit on the balls of your feet. The waves return, ass clapping loudly, effortlessly with each jump. Hoseok has lost all ability to give a shit if his roommates are home or not. He groans out at the sight and tilts his head a bit, thinking it’s going to give him a better view.

You’ve perfected that move. Catching glimpses of cellulite, Hoseok smiles to himself at your natural beauty. He almost forgot you were a natural girl. He wonders how natural you’ve left your pussy for him.

As you continue to make a show of your ass, his hand hovers over the timeline of the video. He debates on whether or not he should just skip to the parts where you’re finally naked and pleasing yourself to the thought of him. But, with every second that you clap or shake your ass, Hoseok concludes that he really doesn’t want to miss a second of you. Moving his cursor to the side, Hoseok settles on letting you tease him for a little while longer.

You giggle as you look at the lens over your shoulder and stand up straight again, suddenly getting shy. Hoseok smiles and chuckles a bit with you, not able to resist how adorable you are. He lets out a hissing sigh, trying to figure out why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. The thought of you last night got him off, the sight of you this morning has transported him into uncharted grounds. He’s never sure what he should be doing. Sometimes, he’s too entranced by your beauty to do anything at all, and other times his hand acts on his own. Taking a deep breath, Hoseok decides to simply stroke himself a bit for now, watching as you pick up the camera and set it up just in front of your bed.

You crawl over the sheets, oblivious to how good of an angle the camera has of your ass. “I just finished watching your live and I didn’t touch myself just so I can show you how wet you get me,” you say as you seat yourself in front of your pillows and spread your legs.

Hoseok mutters a quiet, “oh god,” when his eyes fall on the big, dark wet patch between your legs. Even your inner thighs look slick and sticky. You pull the hem of your panties aside to show him the mess he’s made. Hoseok smiles when he sees that you’ve trimmed the hair up for the most part, leaving a little patch on the top part of your pussy. Fate is cruel to present his perfect girl yet keep her so far away. Hoseok can’t fight the frustration festering in his heart at the reality of your separate worlds.

But as you continue your discovery of pleasures, Hoseok can’t dwell on the misfortune of your shared distant fate. You’re too cute to deny attention, not like Hoseok has much of a choice to do so when you’re offering yourself up to him on a star speckled platter.

You tug on your folds with your other hand, fingers in the shape of a ‘V,’ to properly show him how ready you are. Swollen and sensitive, your pussy is drenched with your wetness.

His eyes twitch, roll back at the sight. Never has he been this fucking turned on before. He huffs a breath, trying to regain his composure as you further spread your legs. Biting on your lip, you look to be lost in thought, looking up at the camera in wonderment.

“Hmm,” you hum again, making Hoseok’s heart flutter. “I think I’ll just take this off. Might be easier to play that way,” you give him a single shoulder shrug.

Hoseok lowly moans and nods. His strokes become a bit fast as he watches you pull your panties off and toss them somewhere in your room. Keeping your legs spread, you pull up your shirt and expose your breasts. Hoseok pauses the video, removing his hand from his already twitching cock as he leans his elbows on his desk. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm himself down because he knows that if he doesn’t he’s going to cum just from the sight of your duality.

Sneaking a glance at your frozen image on his screen, Hoseok quietly moans to himself. Your shirt is still on but rolled up to display your tits. He can’t believe that someone as shy and innocent as you also has a nipple piercing. He can definitely tell that you have a slutty side, but you don’t like showing it often. The fact that you’re even exposing yourself to him like this is enough to make him want to have you all for himself. He’s not usually possessive but he just can’t stand the thought of you posting videos like this for everyone else.

Playing the video again, Hoseok sits back up in his chair and just watches you for now. He decides he’s not going to touch himself yet until he sees you finally start to play with yourself. He wants to see you enjoy yourself first before indulging in his own pleasures. He also figures it might be the best way to hold off on his impending orgasm.

You shyly smile at the camera and pinch your nipples, rolling the buds between your fingers. Hoseok smiles, groaning to himself as you quietly giggle and bite your lip. He can see that, in this moment, you’re putting up an act, and he’s loving it. It’s not as adorable as when you’re unintentionally cute and nervous, but it’s just as sexy.

Nervously sliding a hand down to your pussy, you cup your pierced breast with your other hand and gently massage it. You land a few light slaps on your pussy, moaning louder with each hit. Hoseok’s drooling, though he doesn’t pay much mind to that. Completely enthralled by the sight of you looking so pleased, he doesn’t even realize he has leaned forward so close that his face is only a few inches away from the screen. All he can think about is burying himself between your legs and drowning in your pussy.

A high pitched moan escapes you as you start to lazily rub your clit with your fingers. Your other hand moves from your breast to rest behind you as you lean back and get yourself comfortable. Gazing down at your own work, you moan again, sighing contently as you gather more of your wetness and further rub it against your needy bud.

Pause.

Hoseok leans back in his seat, rubbing his face with his hands. If you were here right now, he’d seat you on his lap and help guide your bounces on his throbbing cock. What kind of game do you think you’re playing? You have to know how fucking hot you are. Hoseok begins to wonder if you’re even really looking to get pointers or if you’re just here to show off. You’ve already set the scene, and look the part. There’s not really much left to it. Maybe his use of your name last night switched something in you. However, judging by how nervous you are, he assumes you must really be looking for pointers and not just showing off because he noticed you. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, you’re too fucking hot to not know it yourself.

He chews on his lower lip as he debates on what he should tell you. Just a couple of minutes in and Hoseok is willing to transfer all his funds to you if you were a live streamer like he was. But the idea of sharing you with everyone else is not something he’s particularly fond of. Pushing that thought aside, Hoseok ignores the disheartening feeling swimming in his chest from the mere thought of someone else witnessing your precious figure like that. He decides to simply focus on the video and not take you out of its context so much anymore. You’re just some hot girl on a screen, he tells himself, nothing to be overtaken by.

Play.

You slap your pussy again, squealing giggles then looking up at the camera shyly. Hoseok blushes, licking his lips at how fucking cute you are. With a gasp, you look between the camera and your pussy. Hoseok furrows his brows, wondering what’s got you all worked up now. You shift closer to the edge, grabbing the camera and bringing it down to your wet pussy.

Hoseok’s face flushes red as your entire wetness is in HD. He assumes this must be what his view would be like if you were here with him right now. However, that’s not what’s got him all choked up and breathless. You move your fingers up off your pussy and Hoseok growls loudly at the sticky string of juices that connects your pussy to your fingers. You giggle, in the process of placing the camera back in it’s spot when he pauses the video once more.

This can’t be real. No one this hot has ever even looked at him twice. Those other girls that flood his inbox are beautiful but you’re fucking enchanting. Fuck, not taking you out of context. You did that yourself when you sent him this video looking that cute and irresistible after a handful of messages worrying over his well being. You’ve made yourself more real than your video, obscured his senses with your endearing personality and beautiful body.

Minimizing the full screen for a second, Hoseok clicks back to his inbox in a different tab and deletes all the other videos from the other girls, even resorting to blocking them, leaving your messages behind. He clicks back to your video, full screening it again. He’s decided: you’re all he wants.

After playing the video again, Hoseok leans forward and watches as you reset the camera on your bed and lay back into your pillows.

“I’m wet enough for a toy,” you think out loud, making Hoseok smile. His cheeks hurt a bit from how much you’ve got him grinning throughout the first three minutes of your video.

You reach into your night table, grabbing a yellow star shaped toy, bulky with curved edges, from the first drawer. You show it to him with a smile, and he breaths a chuckle, completely taken by your charming antics. You shove the toy into your mouth, wetting it even more and lean back over to reach for something else. Legs still spread, pussy still glistening, you rummage through the drawer for a moment longer.

Though your cunt is on full display for him, Hoseok focuses his attention on your face, enchanted by how cute you look when you're focused on something. You have the long string of the yellow toy dangling out of your lips, looking like you’re sucking a lollipop as you finally find what you’re looking for and pull it out to show it to the camera. The long, golden cylinder remote operates the vibrator, Hoseok realizes.

Taking the vibrator out of your mouth, you set the remote down. You move the wet toy between your folds, drenching it in your juices before tugging on your pussy’s lips and shoving the toy in. Your brows furrow, mouth hangs open as you slowly slide it in, squealing in the process. You swallow thickly once it’s in, the rubber line hanging out of it just like it did in your mouth.

“If you were here,” you start as you pick up the remote again. “I’d let you control it.” Smiling to the camera, you flip your hair off your shoulder and suck on your bottom lip.

“Let me?” Hoseok questions under his breath. He can tell from the way your eyes sparkle with mischief that you’re choosing your words carefully. You’re egging him on, knowing he’s the dominant type. As you turn the vibrator on at its lowest setting, Hoseok can’t shake the feeling that you’d love the feeling of his tongue between your folds, maybe even a bit lower. Watching you make yourself comfortable, he scoffs, “Honey, I can ruin you.”

You keep the remote beside you as you close your eyes and enjoy the little stimulation. Hoseok pumps some lube in his hand and starts to stroke himself again, wanting to match the same level of stimulation you’re getting to feel as though he’s there with you. You must have been getting a bit impatient with yourself though, because not even seven seconds later, one hand is on your clit, rubbing harsh circles around it, while the other is on the remote, turning up the intensity of the vibrations.

Caught in the pleasure, your thumb trembles over the buttons, the vibrator suddenly being heard clearly over the camera. With the loud hum of your toy and the symphony of moans escaping you, the music can barely be heard. It’s just you, him and that star shaped vibrator you’ve seemed to lose all control over. A screech tumbles out of you as the remote falls out of your hand and onto the floor. You let out a moan of frustration while the vibrator goes crazy inside you.

Hoseok can’t help but smile at your horny, clumsy state. He’s so enraptured by your annoyed yet pleased sounds that he doesn’t even realize he’s been jerking his cock to a fast pace for the last little bit.

You lay back in your pillows, seemingly accepting your fate as your body jolts and eyes roll back with every buzz of pleasure. High moan after moan tears out of you. You beg him to never stop, grinding your hips up and Hoseok can’t help but wonder what he’s doing to you exactly in your mind that’s making you this needy.

“O-oh, fuck yee-eess,” you manage to whine. You have your arms framing your breasts, pushing them together for him to admire as you get yourself off. While one hand gingerly plays with one of your nipples, your other hand rests near your mouth, sucking on your trembling fingers like you’re trying to stay quiet.

“Fuck, just scream,” Hoseok whispers under his breath. What he’d give right now to have you scream his name. He moans loudly at the sight of your riling on your bed, so captivated by your pleasure, as he jacks himself off at a speed he never thought he could.

Your moans get higher pitched by the second and Hoseok realizes that you’re getting closer. Hips shooting up, you finally cry out all your moans and whines as you cum. Hoseok’s eyes widen at the sight, breathlessly whining to himself as you roll your hips up to ride your orgasm out.

Face lost in the pile of pillows behind you as you throw your head back, all Hoseok can really see is your slick gleamed pussy. Hints of your orgasm leaks out of you before you flip to your side and pull your knees up to your chest. Whimpering quietly into your pillow, you bounce a bit on your bed.

Hoseok swallows hard. Going to lick his lips, he notices another trail of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t make an effort to wipe it away, one hand too busy pumping his needy cock while the other’s clutching onto the chair’s armrest. Knuckles whitening, he tightens his grip and lets out a dark moan at the sight of you overstimulating yourself because you’re just that needy.

Sitting up again, you run a hand through your hair and try to spread your legs. They’re still shaking; you’re still shaking. Eyes wet with horny tears, you let a few loud moans slip pass your pouty lips. “Fu-ck,” you stutter, eyes rolling back a bit as you hold onto the underside of your thighs. He can tell you’re doing your best to keep your pussy visible for the camera. You’re trying desperately to hold your legs apart, but with all that uninterrupted friction, you’re struggling. Knees knocking together, blocking your breasts and pussy from view, you can’t seem to keep your body under control.

All previous attempts to remain quiet have fully been discarded. As Hoseok previously requested, you start screaming out your pleasures. Falling back into your pillows, body shuddering, you put all your strength in pulling your legs apart and scream at the instant pleasure it provides. Hoseok furrows his brows, chest heaving as he watches you toe the line of your next orgasm.

You start to rile in place again, choking on a sob-like moan. Hoseok lets out a little sigh at the sound, swearing to himself that it sounds all too familiar. He doesn’t dwell too much on the familiarity, though, as you enjoy your next high.

Then you suddenly sit up, eyes wide. “Holy shit,” you practically sob, quickly pulling the vibrator out and letting all your juices squirt out of you. You hold the vibrator to your clit and cry out as your release sprays all over you, the bed and the camera. Shutting your eyes, you stick your tongue out to catch a quick taste of yourself before looking back at the camera and squealing.

Hoseok jumps back a bit, as if he too is getting squirted all over. His orgasm suddenly overtakes him just from the sight of you tasting yourself then trying to save the camera all while still holding the vibrator to your clit and squirting whatever you have to offer. The way you’re still desperate for stimulation even after possibly ruining your camera has him almost shaking. Ropes of his cum fall all over his desk, streaking his screen and keyboard, but he couldn’t care less. You’re both a fucking mess and he likes it that way.

You finally discard the vibrator, letting it continue to buzz on your bed and fall back. Your body shudders a bit and you bring your knees up to your chest, letting your orgasm course through you for a minute longer. “Well, shit,” you whisper to yourself. Slowly, you unfold yourself and sit up to wipe the camera off with the hem of your shirt. Laying back onto your pillows, you’re breathless, eyes heavy and breasts heaving as you giggle quietly at the lens. “I don’t know if you could tell, but that wasn’t supposed to happen. Maybe I’m not cut out for this camgirl life afterall.”

You’ve got that shy look in your eyes again, and Hoseok only cleans his screen to get a better look at you. He’s still pumping himself, not completely drained and satisfied just yet. And though you look a bit fucked out, he can tell that you can definitely go for another round. But, you don’t. Instead, you brush the hair out of your face and pull your shirt down. He groans as your breasts disappear from view.

“I-I think I’ve kept the neighbours up for long enough,” you nervously giggle before tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Hoseok huffs, sitting back in his seat. Another couple of rounds won’t make a difference then, will it? He thinks to himself as you wish him well and hope you’ve done a good job. A breathy chuckle escapes him at your words. He can’t believe you could be this clueless to your own charms. It’s clear to him, as it would be to anyone else who would watch your lives if you were to make them, that you’re absolutely perfect.

Glancing down at the throb between his legs, Hoseok finds himself hardening once again just from the thought of you. The last stilled image of you reaching back to turn the camera off, a clear shot to your breasts, nipple stud in full view, has him squirming in his seat a bit.

From the yellow glow of your username, Hoseok knows that you’re still online. But with his cock still craving another round of your beauty, he decides against giving you an answer yet. He tells himself he needs to watch your video one more time. Or maybe even three. Just to be sure.

After wiping his desk down from his last orgasm, Hoseok restarts the video. He pumps a bit more lube in his hand and smiles as you greet him through the camera.

“Hi. I hope this is okay. I’ve never really done this before. You make it look so easy every night.”

You sit atop of the washing machine, your roommate, Minh, across from you. After how your night ended, you needed to wash your bedding. Upon hearing you mention leaving this morning, she decided it’s time to clean her laundry too and tagged along. You don’t really mind it. All you hope is that she doesn’t ask too many questions about why you’re washing your sheets earlier than usual.

You knock your feet against the washer window and try to soothe the quick beats of your anxious heart while she reads peacefully. It’s been exactly four hours since you’ve sent him the video you took of yourself last night. You know he’s online. The golden glow of his name tells you as much anyways. You’re not sure if he has looked at your message though. Maybe he’s ignoring you, or worse. He’s blocked you. You swallow back a nervous lump in your throat at the thought and tell yourself that you’re being ridiculous.

“Stop,” Minh sighs, looking up from her book.

You still your legs, muttering a quiet apology. As she turns back to her book, you wonder if it was your mention of last night that’s thrown him off. He did look uncomfortable, most of the time lost in his own world. But, maybe he didn’t want anyone else to know that. Maybe the fact that you brought it up has turned him off.

BUZZ!

Your heart nearly tumbles out of your chest at the sound. Hands darting to the phone, you quickly unlock it to look at your notifications. Your eyes light up when you see his username. Lips trembling, you tap the notification and wait anxiously for the app to load to his message.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i can’t imagine a moment of you like this being a bother

A little gasp escapes you at his response. You blink, once, twice, three times, trying to make sure that what you’re reading isn’t just some hopeful thinking you’re projecting simply because you find yourself completely and utterly infatuated by him. Reading the message over and over again, you try your best to fight off the smile playing on your lips. You know full well that you can’t come up with something witty to send back if you get all giddy.

His comment is cute but you got an earful from Mrs. Jiwoo across the hall asking that you bring men over at an earlier time to get that over with sooner. Minh was completely confused, having spent the night out with a few friends. You had to later explain to her that Mrs. Jiwoo has no idea what she’s talking about. And though both conversations were mortifying, you’re somewhat relieved Mrs. Jiwoo didn’t think you were alone, getting off to some guy on a screen, and that Minh bought your excuse.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i think this site would crash if you started up your own livestream honey

The pet name has your knees knocking just as it did last night. You still can’t believe he said your username and spoke to you through his live. Sure, it resulted in some backlash, but having his attention like that was like nothing you’ve experienced before.

Looking around, you make sure you haven’t caught Minh’s attention. She remains unbothered, flipping a page in her book. Glancing back down at your phone, you let out a little giggle. Is this really happening? This guy must get tons of videos like the one you just sent, tons of people must throw themselves at him like you indirectly did. With that thought suddenly in mind, you wonder if he’s merely telling you all this to be nice. Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings and is talking you up just to keep you away.

[to hopeonthescreen340] : you really mean it?

You type and delete the message a couple of times before finally sending it. Chewing on your lower lip, you watch the three floating bubbles wave as he types out his reply. Did that sound too desperate? Your fingers tremble over the keyboard again as you let out a shaky deep breath. No. You mentally assert. Why would he lie? If he wanted to get you off his back he would have ignored your messages, maybe even deleted them all too. He has nothing to gain from lying to you.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : with all my heart

You bite back a giggle, in the middle of typing out a reply of gratitude when he sends another message that has you shaking again.

[from hopeonthescreen340] : but i don’t think you should host a livestream

Defeated, disheartened, disillusioned, you scoff at your phone. Is he playing games? Is that what he’s up to right now? Slouching, you knit your brows and glare down at your screen.

[to hopeonthescreen340] : thought you meant what you said?

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i did

[from hopeonthescreen340] : i do

[from hopeonthescreen340] : youre just a little too innocent for this kind of scene

You shake your head, dryly chuckling in disbelief. What kind of backhanded compliment is that? Too innocent? Yes, maybe you were nervous in the beginning but you thought that the rest of the video was pretty good. Heart sinking, you can only stare down at your phone.

How could you not see this coming? You sent your favourite camboy a video of yourself with only the best scenario in mind. How could you so easily disregard the possibility of being rejected like this? Running a hair through your hair, you type a quick, plain response.

[to hopeonthescreen340] : k. thanks.

Putting your phone away, you turn back to laundry. With a ding, you hop off the machine with Minh and get to drying. The warm, freshly cleaned sheets will probably be the new highlight of your day. So the sooner you finish cleaning them, the quicker this day will go by. Or, at least that’s what you hope.

A tired sigh fills the living room as you switch the channel again. Snacking on some cherries, you’ve taken to eating your feelings away. You’ve already gone through two packs of blueberries and a pack of strawberries. Your lips are smeared with the cherry juice and fingernails stained red.

As you change the channel once more, your mind wanders back to the messages. Maybe he’s right? Maybe you are too “innocent” or whatever to be a regular on a livestream. You roll your eyes at yourself, knowing that’s not what’s got you so tired of the day.

The truth is you never really had your heart set on being a livestreamer. You know deep down all you really wanted was some more attention from an online crush. You wanted to feel beautiful to him, wanted to know he was losing himself to the thought of you. To have him crave you like you crave him was your real intention behind that video. And now that you know that’s not the case, you can’t help but feel riddled with regret and stupidity. You should’ve taken what you could, taken the use of your username as the flirty, casual comment it was meant to be. You took him out of the context of the live stream too soon, too quick. You’ve got your hopes up and all you have left to show for it is cherry lips and fingertips.

The vibrating hum of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts. You grab a tissue and wipe as much of the fruit off your hands before picking up the phone. “Hello?”

“It’s busy here. I’m probably gonna be home late.”

You glance out the window, judging how dark it already is. The sun’s already setting, swirls of golden peach hues taking over the darkening sky. Minh’s not usually home before dark anyways, but you appreciate the call either way. “Alright. There’s some leftovers for you when you get here.”

“Great, I’m starved. Hey, did you check the mail?”

You bite on your lip to hold back a forgetful sigh. “Mhm,” you lie, slowly getting up from your spot. You tiptoe your way to the door and try to pick up your keys as quietly as possible.

Minh must’ve heard the lie in the sudden high tone of your voice or the jingle of the keys because her scoldings soon followed. “I told you to check it four times before I left. It’s probably full now. You know I’m waiting on a package. How is it supposed to fit if mail from a week ago is still in there?”

“I’m getting it right now. I promise!” you reassure.

Minh sighs and mutters a “you better” before hanging up.

You sigh and toss your phone on the table by the door, heading out to get Minh’s precious mail. You were going to suggest that she just pick it up on her way to the apartment once she’s off her shift, but the last time you did that, she scolded you for not doing your half of the chores. You figured it’s better to just go do it yourself.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’ve left barefoot. And, to top that embarrassing realization, you also left behind a sweater, cardigan, something to cover yourself with as all you have on is a pastel yellow tank top and a pair of matching lounge shorts. Annoyed with yourself, you figure it's much easier to just quickly go grab your mail now instead of riding the elevator up and down.

You pad the cold ground of the building’s lobby, rushing to the foyer before someone can see you. After fumbling with the keys for a couple of seconds, you finally find the right one and unlock your mailbox.

“‘Scuse me,” a voice mutters to your left.

You keep your eyes locked on your mail. For some reason, you figure that if you don’t make eye contact with the other tenant, then you’d face less embarrassment. So, you mumble an apology and side stepping to the right all while keeping your head low. Your plan seems foolproof until he quietly thanks you in a deep voice all too familiar to ignore. That lively tone laced in a tired voice tickles the curve of your spine, making you roll your shoulders back.

Curiosity always seems to get the best of you. Trailing your gaze up his frame, you think he doesn’t look that familiar until-

“Oh god,” you whisper.

He turns to face you, face dropping when he recognizes you as well. You bring your letters up to your face, shielding yourself from the shame and embarrassment of coming face to face with the man that subvertly rejected you online. Peeking above them, however, you can’t resist the urge to check him out. You tell yourself it’s to make sure it’s really him, but you know full well that you just want to get a good look at him.

Loose grey sweatpants, baggy white shirt, black hair in its usual middle part, exposing just the right amount of forehead to get you wet from just one glance. Oh, and that little, silver hoop pierced into his nostril. It looks even more heavenly in person, as does he. Yeah, it’s definitely him. You can feel your heart taking residence in your throat as you meet his dazed gaze.

“Oh my god,” you repeat to yourself in a whisper. Glancing between him and the key in his mailbox, you can’t believe he lives in the same building as you. You’ve been watching his videos for about six months now. Never had you seen him around your building before, not even a bump in the elevator.

“Starfruit,” he mutters, sounding surprised himself.

For some reason, the nod to your username draws a little mewl out of you. Your eyes widen the moment you realize what you’ve just done. His brows shoot up, the tips of his ears tinting red.

“I’m sorry,” you rush out. “I, um, I didn’t mean to do any of that.”

His expression immediately softens, a little smirk gracing his lips as he scans your figure. You shift your weight from foot to foot, eyes averting to the mailboxes as his eyes lock on your hips, drinking in the way your shorts sit on your curves. You can feel his eyes soon trail up and linger on your breasts. You internally scold yourself for resting your shoulders back and puffing out your chest so he can get a better view. Even after all that’s transpired, you still can’t help but throw yourself at him.

He doesn’t seem to mind that, however, shamelessly staring at how your cleavage peeks out of your pastel yellow tank top. Clearing his throat, he snaps his gaze back to your face as if just remembering that you’re watching him stare at you. “Uh, there’s no need to apologize,” he shrugs before turning to grab his mail too.

“I didn’t know you lived-”

“Me either,” he cuts you off, biting his lip when he realizes what he did. He lets out a breathy chuckle and shakes his head. “Uh-”

“I wouldn’t have sent anything if I’d known,” you explain. Shutting your mailbox, you lock it once more and remove your key all while continuing to hold your mail over your face to hide your shame.

His smile somewhat wavers as he tilts his head to get a better look at your face despite the presence of your mail in front of it. “Why?”

You clutch onto your keys, avoiding his gaze as you reply, “well, um, it’s just a bit embarrassing to send that kind of thing to someone in your building.”

“And it wouldn’t be to a stranger?”

You sigh and finally meet his eyes. “For all I knew, you were on the other side of the world. I didn’t risk much when you rejec-” You cut yourself off, clearing your throat. “It’s just different when it’s to a stranger.”

He shuts his mailbox too, dryly chuckling at you. He gives you one last once over, licking his lips, before walking past you. You furrow your brows, confused eyes following his tall frame back to the building’s lobby. You can’t help but wonder what the look was for. Did you say something wrong? Maybe that whole thing about strangers was offensive?

“Wait,” you call after him, following his steps to the elevator.

He pushes the button then spares you a side glance as he shifts through his mail. You curl a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly grabbing his attention. His eyes lock on the simple action, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly.

You hold your mail to your chest, letting out a little sigh, then muster the courage to say. “Look, I’m just sorry I sexualized you.” The honest confession has you gulping, looking at the floor in the hopes that it will open up and swallow you whole just to get you out of this humiliation fest you’ve got yourself lost in. “It’s just easier to feel less guilt about it through a stranger’s live stream rather than a neighbour’s.”

The elevator rings, signalling it’s arrival and you wait for him to make a move to enter. Only when he nods towards the door, urging you to go in first, do you step onto the elevator.

“Floor?”

“Tenth,” you mutter, regretting every word you’ve spoken since running into him.

He remains silent for a second before clearing his throat. Glancing at him, you raise a brow. “I sexualized myself, so there’s no need to blame yourself for anything. And, for the record, I’m not sorry about that video at all.” A blush creeps up his neck at his own confession.

Licking your lips, you draw your bottom lip between your teeth, nervously nibbling on it. Not much of his reply makes sense. For one, it goes against whatever you thought he meant in his messages earlier today. You want to believe he rejected you since he already said that in so many words but his sincerity makes you question your interpretation.

“So you actually…” you trail off, reading his expression carefully. “You actually liked the video?”

His entire face reddens. You’ve never seen him this shy before. He’s usually so cocky, so controlled. Not a lot can faze him. In fact, now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him fazed by any sexual things his viewers have commented. Yet, here he is. Looking flushed and, dare you even think, embarrassed, he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “It was amazing,” he whispers, looking over to you. “I watched it more than once actually.”

Your jaw falls, eyes widen. Is that why it took him so long to reply? The air in your lungs thickens as you realize that he probably got off to your video. The thought alone has you shivering in place with lustful pride.

“Really?”

He nods.

“How many times?”

DING!

The elevator signals the floor arrival and it’s only now that you realize he only hit the button to the tenth floor. He nods for you to step out first and you obey, eyes aimlessly staring at the floor as you try to make sense of the fact that the two of you not only live in the same building, but on the same floor as well.

With all that has come to light in the last few moments, you realize you can’t get lost in your worries anymore. Turning to face him, you offer a shy smile and say, “I’m-”

“Starfruit,” he finishes with a smirk. “I know.”

You raise your brows in question. His grin only widens, lighting up the dim hallway like the rays of a morning sun. But it doesn’t distract you from wondering why he doesn’t want to know your real name. “I think ‘hope on the screen’ is a bit of a mouth full,” you joke.

He chuckles, looking to the side a bit before turning back to you. “What’s wrong, honey? Not used to having your mouth full?”

You freeze, breath hitching. Goosebumps prickle your skin as you try to settle your ramming heart with sad excuses that brush off his statement to be anything but sexual. However, with just one look at his smug features, you know full well that’s exactly what he meant.

“Not usually by a name, no.”

Lust clouds his eyes. He sets his jaw, gaze hardening. Quirking a brow, he asks, “Is that right?” When you nod, he sighs. “Just Hope will do then.”

“Hopie,” you somewhat slur with a smile.

A little smirk tugs on his lips and he nods. “Sure, Hobi is fine.”

You don’t bother correcting him, liking his version of the name better anyways. For a moment, you both stand inches apart, staring at each other. He then suddenly blinks and clears his throat. Looking down the right side of the hall, he bites his lip and turns back to face you. You pick up on his hint to go your separate ways and nod, walking ahead of him back to your own apartment. You’re convinced this will be your first and last meeting, in which he will call you Starfruit everytime he sees you and you will reply with Hobi and convince yourself that you’re okay with that. However, his footsteps only follow after you.

You make it to your door before turning to face him. He stops an arm’s length away, features clueless and eyes confused.

“Looking for an invite to come in?” you tease, hoping to fluster him.

“You offering one?” he smirks.

Mouth gaping, you look between him and the door. How is it that you’re the one flustered? That was not the plan. Hobi’s smirk only widens. You suddenly wonder if he’s bluffing, that cocky look starting to irritate your wettening core.

You turn to your door, unlock it then push it open. Leaning your back against the doorframe, you reply, “You tell me.”

Hobi swipes his tongue between the gaps of his teeth, eyes darkening once more. “You sure about this, Starfruit?” He asks as he takes a step closer.

“What’s not to be sure about?” You question. “I’m just inviting a neighbour over for a drink. It’s an innocent offer. Wouldn’t you agree, Hobi?”

A low growl tears through his throat before he dips his head and catches your lips in his. You kiss him back with very little hesitance. His lips taste of lemon and cream, sweet and citrusy like he just had dessert. Moaning into his mouth, you hear his mail spill in your apartment somewhere to your left. He then grabs the stack of letters in your hands and repeats the same action, tossing the mail into your apartment.

His hands are free to roam around your body but immediately settle on your ass. Hips pinning you against the doorframe, Hobi grabs handfuls of each asscheek. Groaning and groping, he doesn’t miss a chance to make you wetter than you already feel yourself getting.

You don’t hesitate to get your hands on him either. Clutching onto his shoulders, you chase after his lips as he pulls away. Nudging you back with his nose, Hobi then dips his face in the crook of your neck. His tongue darts out, hot breath fanning over your goosebump prickled skin. Warm and wet, his tongue swirls around your collarbone then up to your jawline. Meanwhile, his greedy hands are working fast to pull your shorts to the side, exposing your panty-less pussy.

You don’t give him a chance to see that, wanting him to feel it instead. You spread your legs and hold his thigh between them. Pressing your clit to his dampening sweatpants, you roll your hips onto his leg.

Hobi stills for a second, only just pulling his face away from yours to watch your body move against his. A giddy grin plays on his lips, his hands returning to your ass to help guide your thrusts against him.

You wrap your arms around his neck and rest your forehead against his cheek. Never did you think you’d find yourself in this position. Last night, you imagined him fucking you against the wall to get yourself off, but never pictured that wall to be in the hallway. Standing in the middle of your doorway, one foot in the apartment and the other out, the two of you risk being caught in a compromising position by the entire floor. And yet, neither of you seem to care. With his body so close that his heat warms you, you find very little interest in anything else. His racing heart against yours and that excited gleam in his eyes is all you can focus on. He looks a bit happier than he did last night and that alone has you moving your hips a bit faster against him.

“Mhm, honey,” he hums before pressing his lips against your forehead. “Just like that.”

To unknowing eyes, the two of you might look like a long time couple, horny and adventurous in your intimate endeavours just from the way he holds and expresses his interest in you. You even find yourself indulging in that daydream for a second, giving into your delusions and pretending that Hobi is your boyfriend and the two of you are that adventurous couple. Whines leave you as he digs his fingers into your ass. It somewhat pulls you out of that daydream.

His grip then circles around to your hips, stilling your thrusts and holding your against the doorframe. He flashes a cocky smile at your sad mewls from the loss of friction. “Don’t pout,” he whispers. You further draw your bottom lip and test his grip on your hips as you try to continue your movements.

Hobi chuckles darkly, tightening his hold on you. “I know you’re needy, honey,” he purrs. “But if you don’t behave soon, you won’t get to cum at all. Do I make myself clear?” He questions before licking your pout away.

It takes everything in you not to squirm. His voice is enough to make you needy, but his words make you desperate. You nod and pull your bottom lip into your mouth, sucking on the strip of saliva his tongue left behind. Hobi raises a brow at your actions. Gathering some spit in his mouth, he mutters, “pout,” then drops the stringy liquid over your lips. Some of it slides down your chin to your neck but, once he’s done, you part your lips. And as you drink in his saliva, Hobi licks up the trail of spit from your cleavage to your chin. He places a wet kiss to your lips once he reaches them.

Pulling away, he peppers your cheeks with soft kisses while one of his hands tugs the hem of your shorts aside once more. The cool air hits your wet folds. You whine against him and try to fight against the hold on your hips against. The longer he delays getting to your clit, the needier you get.

“Patience, Starfruit,” he mumbles against your cheek.

The soft pad of his thumb brushes up against the short hair upon your pussy a couple of times, filling the pit of your stomach with a growing restless desire to just be filled and fucked. He’s teasing because he can, because he loves the way you squirm against his hold and pout for his tongue. You know this; he knows this. Catching the other’s eye, both of you share a knowing smile.

Holding your gaze, his thumb finally nudges its way between your folds and grazes your swollen bud. You instantly shudder, breasts heaving from the excitement. He smirks, dragging his thumb back and forth on your clit as he watches you slowly come undone.

His head lowers again, lips latching onto your neck. He nibbles and sucks on your skin. You can only tangle your fingers in his hair and moan. As your eyes flutter shut, Hobi fully removes his right hand from your hip, and devotes it to your pussy. He runs two long, slender fingers between your folds, instantly drenching them, and chuckles against your neck, “what’s got you this wet, Starfruit?”

A gasp escapes you as he circles his fingers around your clit. Your mind’s a foggy mess, focused only on his pretty face and how easily his fingers can have you shaking. There’s not much attention spared on anything else, so you answer with the first thing that comes to mind. Eyes hooded, you reply, “Just a little hope.”

He likes it- loves it, fingers slipping into your pussy in an instant. A growl rumbles upon your skin in the process and you can’t fight the shivers that dance along your spine. You whimper his name, resting your forehead on his shoulder. The hand previously holding your hips still wraps around your waist. He’s somewhat cradling you against his chest as his fingers unforgivingly thrust in and out of you. Movements harsh but touches so gentle; Hobi is a god of duality. Just another fact you can’t deny.

Your orgasm knots in the pit of your stomach, only just satisfying that boundless crave for him. His body is all but pressed against yours. Cheek to cheek, your lips are merely inches away from his ear, while his kisses yours. You untangle your fingers from his hair, gently tugging on it as you do just because you can, and you wrap your arms around his shoulder in a tight, desperate embrace. Still, you need more of him, need him closer, so you hook a leg around his waist too.

Hobi growls a chuckle against the shell of your ear as he gives into your silent, needy request and slides his hand from your waist to your ass. He lands a light spank, as if testing your limits, drawing a loud squeal out of you.

“F-fuck,” you whine. “Again?” you ask, pushing your ass back into his hand. “Please! Pl-ease, Hobi.”

He groans, whispering, “Already begging, honey?”

Before you can reply, he spanks you again. The smack is harder, clap louder and you can’t help but match the volume of your moans to it. Your pussy tightens, hips roll uncontrollably against his fingers. You're reaching your peak; the both of you can feel it. Hobi grips onto your ass, and it’s only now that you also realize you’re clinging onto him not just because you want him, but to keep from falling. Your knees have gone weak awhile ago, but you were so enthralled by the pleasure to fully register it.

You’re squealing, screeching your moans against his shoulder with every wet slouch that echoes from your core. “Oh, god! Yes, yes, yes, Hobi! I’m- I’m-”

His little eager chuckles, the kind where his voice rumbles into your ear and echoes within your soul, are the force that push you off the edge… until the door across the hall opens.

Mrs. Jiwoo screams at the pornographic sight in front of her. You quickly shoot a hand to his wrist, holding it still in you the moment you realize you’ve provoked an audience. Though you’ve kept his hand still from the embarrassment your mind’s telling you you’re supposed to have, your hips continue their lifts against his hand. The act of getting caught has you shaking with the wash of a harsh orgasm that you can’t seem to stop yourself. Hobi peppers your face with kisses, unfazed by the interruption as well. Within seconds, you flood his fingers with your release.

The older woman is beside herself. She rushes back into her apartment as you throw your head back and moan a giggle of delight. “When I said during the day, this is not what I meant!” She shouts from the other side of the door.

You don’t care. You can barely even hear her with how powerful your high hits you. Your ears feel as though they’re submerged underwater, mind fogging with light-headedness and body shuddering as it struggles to stay upright.

“You fucking slut,” Hobi seethes, gently sinking his teething into your neck.

You whimper in response, hips jolting in an attempt to escape the overstimulation of his ruthless fingers pushing in and out of you.

“That got you off, huh slut? Getting caught by the neighbours?”

“Maybe I’m not as innocent as you think.”

The growl that echoes in his chest is enough to make you cum a bit more. And the fact that you know that response wasn’t what he was expecting has a smile playing on your trembling lips. A few strands of his hair fall over his eyes as he scans your face. He looks as though he’s trying to place you, confused by your words and actions. A smile suddenly stretches upon his lips, that tongue of his cockily pushing out.

You can’t quite think straight with his fingers still deep in you, holding still while your hips jolt against his hands. But, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s amused, perhaps even obsessed with the way you discard your inhibitions for him. The reality of the matter is, that if any other partner had wanted you against the doorframe of your apartment, fingering you in the hall for all to see, you wouldn’t have allowed it. But Hobi is different. He provokes recklessness and abandons fears so effortlessly that you can’t help but follow.

Fingers withdrawing from your pussy and into your mouth, Hobi lifts your ass so that your bodies are completely flushed against each other. You suck without much of a command, quietly mewling at the taste of yourself on his fingers. You try to hold his gaze, but his eyes travel to something over your shoulder. He smirks as he guides you inside, the grip on your ass strengthening. Curious as to what’s got him so possessive, you spare a quick glance over your shoulder. Another set of neighbours, Jin and Jimin, stare at the two of you, jaws slack and eyes wide. When you meet their gaze, Jimin quickly looks away, fumbling with his keys then struggling to unlock the door. But Jin only continues to stare, his eyes dropping down to Hobi’s fingers digging into the plump flesh of your ass.

An embarrassed squeal escapes you before Hobi pulls your attention away from the guys by curling his fingers in your mouth and tugging your jaw towards him. His eyes darken, face hovering inches away from yours, but all you register is the bulging veins in his neck. Kicking the door close, he whispers, “I don't share, Starfruit.”

Ceasing all sharp suckling and swirls of your tongue, you freeze at his words. His eyes soften and flash with worry, fingers uncurl and withdraw from your mouth. He parts his lips to speak but you only smash yours against his and clutch onto his thick biceps. He kisses back in an instant, cupping the underside of your asscheeks to give them a good shake. He seems to have some sort of infatuation with your ass. His hands have barely wandered far from your backside, as at least one hand has been groping and gripping it. You smirk against his lips and arch your back so that your ass further pushes into his palm. He smacks it, tongue attacking yours all the while.

He breaks the kiss to ask against your lips, “bedroom?”

You moan in response and push him back in the general direction you think your room is in. You don’t realize you’ve terribly misjudged your placement in the room until you push him into the door. He grunts upon impact, pulling his lips from yours with a little laugh. You nervously giggle with him, convinced he’s going to tease you, maybe even open the door again and give all peering eyes an encore, but instead he smiles and leads you down the hall.

Bodies collided, all you can do is move with him, timidly peppering his chin with little kisses. For some reason, you only feel shy in his presence when he’s not overtaken by lust. It makes the interaction more real when he just flashes that bright smile at you and continues to hold you close against him. Lips dragging under his chin, teeth grazing the soft skin, you take a moment to admire his beauty up close. The camera doesn’t do him justice. He glows. Skin, smile, eyes, everything about him gleams, glitters, glistens of beauty. And when lacking a dose of lust, his features shine into something pure. You can’t quite tether the purity to a source, and you aren’t granted the time to as he finds your bedroom.

In mere seconds, that bright sunshine gleam in his eyes flashes into a dark moonlight glow. He’s lust driven, sex crazed. And suddenly you’re no exception. Following his every silent command, you let him shove you onto your bed. You land with a soft grunt, fumbling with your skirt. He’s so eager to be all over you, he doesn’t even take a moment to flick on your lights. No, Hobi has different plans. His infatuation with you and that video seem to go to lengths you didn’t think were possible.

“Turn on those lights from last night,” he orders while making his way over to the curtains and draws them shut.

You furrow your brows. “Why?”

“Why not, Starfruit?”

He must know the effect of using your screen name, must see the way you chew on your lips and absentmindedly puff your breasts out. In that fruity voice of his, he really can coax you in and out of your thoughts.

Hobi pulls his shirt off as he makes his way over to you. Gulping, you take a moment to admire his tan torso. You’ve been thinking about it since his last live, thinking about scratching your nails down his chest then cat-licking the faint marks up. You wonder if he’d let you do that now.

But, as he crawls onto your bed, his eyes flash a silent warning to do as you’re told. You lean back and switch on the twinkling starlights tangled around your room. The quiet room mirrors the production you set up for him last night, once again reflecting the ambiance of a midnight showing. Despite the sunset peachy swirls, Hobi has recreated the set for your video. Actually, with the presence of his grey sweatpants and the little yellow outfit you have on, he has somehow merged your two videos together, transporting the two of you into your own private live stream setting.

“I don’t suppose you’d want me in lace too?” you tease as his lean body hovers over your curves.

He breathes a chuckle, placing a soft kiss over your lips before replying, “I don’t want you in anything at all.”

Your legs have a mind of their own, adjusting apart to give him some room to lay between them. Your trembling breath fans over his lips, hesitant hands rest on his bare shoulders. He picks up on your anxiety and nudges his nose against yours, the cool edge of that hoop piercing refreshing your skin.

Delicately, he whispers, “Lemme know if it’s too much, Starfruit. It’s never too late to change your mind.”

His reassurance is enough to have you arching your body into his. Based on the concern swimming in his eyes, you can tell that he’s waiting for some verbal confirmation. But you, instead, put your mouth into different use. As his tongue reappears to graze the gaps of his teeth, a brow raising in question, you catch it. Hooking your tongue around his, you pull it into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. His eyes widen with every suck, warm breath heating your face as it fans over you. A chuckle or two escapes him as he watches you hold his gaze shamelessly while playing with his tongue in ways you’ve only ever thought of.

Hobi drops to his elbows, arms on either side of your head, and presses his body against yours. The shift of his position further pushes his tongue into your mouth. Your previous sucking fest turns into a wet, sloppy makeout session. He rolls his clothed hips into yours with each swirl of his tongue, groaning as you mewl from the subtle friction.

He seems to be losing patience, breaking the sloppy kiss, a string of saliva connecting your tongues, to trail kisses down your neck. You think he’s going to stop in the dip of your collarbone, but he doesn’t. Instead, he leads the sloppy trail of kisses down your cleavage. Before you can even register it, Hobi has his teeth locked on the neckband of your tank top. He pulls it down to expose your breasts. Locking eyes, you find something animalistic swimming within his gaze. Unbounded, uncontrolled, it seems as though every minute spent with you has unleashed yet another layer of primal lust ready to take over every inch of you. Never have you seen such passion in those eyes before, even on his best days, his best lives. You start to wonder if maybe it’s the presence of another that has him all worked up.

Hobi lures you out of your thoughts as he leans back and rests his weight back up on his hands again. Looking down at you, he admires your chest. His eyes bounce between your pierced and bare nipples, as if deciding which one he’s in the mood for. You take a deep breath and arch your back to push your breasts up towards him, urging him to just pick one already and devour you.

A little breathy chuckle escapes him once he picks up on your hints. The pad of his thumb brushes over your pierced nipple. Slow, quiet, steady. He remains still, lost in thought before his eyes find yours again. That primal instinct that was previously unleashed has somewhat tamed itself. A little smile tugs on a corner of his lip, dimples only just visible.

Something endearing lies behind his eyes. Something… pure. You lay flat on the bed again as you stare up at him. Quirking a brow, you silently question his motionless frame. He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even seem to notice your subtle change of expression. He simply stares, admires.

“Hobi?”

Your quiet voice lulls him back to you. He blinks, shakes his head then snaps his gaze back down to your chest, that little smile of his widening. Before you can question him again, both his hands cup your breasts. You gasp a moan, pushing your chest up against him again.

Hobi just pushes you back down. He squeezes your tits together then dips his head between them. His wet lips push their way through only to blow and vibrate. He blubbers, babbles, saliva drenching your tits as he shakes his head between them.

Never has a man been so obsessed, memorized by your body enough to motorboat you. Most of the time, your interaction with others lasts shorter than this. But here Hobi lays, shoving his face between your breasts. He’s infatuated with you enough to take his time.

Moaning, rolling your hips up into his, you close your eyes and enjoy his little treat. Your hands slide from his shoulders to his back, hugging him closer to you. You feel that sinful tongue of his dart out again, licking a trail up to your pierced nipple only to envelop it in his mouth. Hands lost in his hair, you push his face further against you. You know full well that he can’t get any closer, but you try anyways.

His teeth graze the silver stud, a quiet clatter of metal on teeth meeting your ears. Hobi looks up at you, holding your gaze, and gently tugs on your hardened nipple. In a pout, you mewl at the sight, the stinging, blissful sensation. A smirk graces his lips when he lets go.

“You sound so fucking cute,” he chuckles, dipping his head to give your nipple a little kiss.

He’s sweet and kind and you want to get lost in his eyes and honey voice. But, with his bulge rubbing against your shorts, all you can think about is how well he’d fit in your mouth. Using your feet, you push his sweatpants down his frame.

Hobi chuckles under his breath before helping you out a bit and kicking his pants off. He dips his head back to your breasts, this time focusing his attention on your bare nipple. He gives it the same treat as the studded one, licking, sucking, nibbling. Mid tug, he trails a hand down your body, resting it upon your drenched center and asks, “when are these coming off?”

“When I get to suck you off.”

Your words leave you fast, unexpectedly. You’ve never been this unaware of yourself, uncomposed. Even in your most submissive moments, you’ve maintained a certain amount of control. However, with Hobi, it’s almost as though all that control becomes his.

He quirks a brow up at you, releasing your nipple. Scanning your features, he judges how serious you are. With your chest heaving and gaze unwavering, he seems to conclude that you really mean it.

“Want me to come up there?”

You fight off a smile and shake your head. Nudging his shoulder, you have him fall beside you, laying on his back. “I’ll come down to you,” you tell him as you sit on your knees and push your shorts off.

Hobi’s brows shoot up at your actions. He chews on his lips, eyes devouring every exposed inch of you. As his hand rests on your ass, gently rubbing it, you let your gaze traill down his chest to his tall, thick cock. It’s bigger than you thought it was. You know he’s big after watching his live streams, but you didn’t think he’d be this massive. Vein laced, precum smeared, pink tipped, his huge cock begs for your attention. You gulp now wondering if he’d fit in your mouth at all.

“You don’t have to,” Hobi whispers. You snap your gaze to his and you can see the concern that swims in his eyes. Is he worried that he won’t fit or that he’ll hurt you?

Licking your lips, you collect any drool about to fall from the sight of his dick and shake your head. “No, I really want to.” Your tone is steady but voice breathless. Pressing your legs together, you can’t fight your need for him any longer. Without much thought, you throw your leg over his chest, straddling his torso as you position yourself in front of his dick.

A gasp meets your wet folds and you freeze for a second, thinking that you may have acted out of pure greed. You’re about to move off him when his hands smack down on your thighs and slide up to your ass. He pushes your plump cheeks up and digs his fingertips into your little dimples. As you cat-lick his precum oozing tip, he runs the bridge of his nose through your folds.

You moan loudly, his bold move provoking you to engulf his tip and then some into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around him and it’s only now that you realize, with your tongue sliding and looping around him, how thick he really is. It only makes you want more of him.

While you attempt to shove in another inch or two down your throat, Hobi laps his tongue over your pussy, favouring your clit over your entrance. After flicking it with the tip of his tongue, he purses his lips around your clit and sucks harshly.

Through a gag, you moan around his length. Only half of him is lodged in your throat, and you thought you might be ready to take a bit more until he began to focus all his energy on your clit. You shudder against his lips. Closing your eyes, you try to recompose yourself. You have a job to do as well and you know you won't be able to do it right if all you focus on is how well he can work his mouth. Taking in a deep breath through your nose, you continue your bobs up and down his length, working your hand on the last few inches you haven’t found the courage to shove in your mouth yet.

Hobi can’t seem to keep his volume down. Every one of your harsh sucks and slurps has him crumbling into more of a moaning mess. Your jaw aches, eyes water but you work through it, living for every moan and groan that vibrates over your needy core. And though he continues to play around with your clit, the sounds you've sucked out of him have sprinkled a bit of hesitance in his approach. His previously sharp licks and suctions over your pussy have somewhat stuttered the faster your bounce your head up and down his length.

He composes himself quicker than you do, however. Tongue poking in and out of your entrance, his thumb slides over to your clit and rubs hard circles around it. You squeal, choking on his cock at the sudden switch. However, that’s not what forces you to pull him out of your mouth. That thumb of his drenches itself in your juices and trails up the curve of your ass to smear your juices all over your asshole. As his mouth returns to your clit, he pushes his thumb into your ass, making you pull his cock out and throw our head back.

You’re so lost in that new wave of pleasure, all attention on his cock falters. You grip onto his thighs and grind your hips into his mouth. Hobi smirks, but he’s not happy with your actions. His free hand comes down on your ass as a silent warning. You want to take it as such but with his thumb moving in and out of you and his mouth sucking on your clit, you can’t find it in you to do anything else but whine and push your weight down on his face.

Hobi growls against your wetness, teeth grazing your bud. Your eyes widen, and a loud moan pours out of you. He breaths a chuckle over your clit all while continuing to nibble on it. Lips still pressed against your aching heat, he questions, “who the fuck told you to stop?”

You wrap a hand back around cock, pumping him at a fast pace. Still, Hobi doesn’t think it’s enough. He withdraws his thumb from your ass and takes to fingering your instead. With two fingers thrusting in and out of you again, his mouth is free to latch onto your asshole. He licks and pokes his tongue in and out your tiniest hole while your body shakes over his.

“Suck my dick, slut,” he orders with a growl, spanking you just to grab and grope you all over again.

You don’t dare disobey a direct order. Wrapping your lips around his length, you immediately pick up where you left off and shove his thick cock down your throat. Ignoring every gag instinct, every urge to pull him out and take a proper breath before taking him in again. But, when he’s shaking his face between your cheeks, swirling his tongue around your hole and pushing his fingers in and out of you at an incomprehensible pace, you can’t focus, let alone think, about anything else. His cock falls out of your mouth once more. You don’t want to disappoint him, but how can he expect you to do anything when he’s making you feel so good?

“Oh my god!” You scream. Sitting up on his face, you all but force him to take his fingers out of you and relatch his lips over your folds once more. You ride his face as your orgasm nears, a variety of curses pouring out of you in desperate moans. “Ahh, fuck yes! H-Hobi!”

He groans in response, smacking his pussy slick hands over your ass. He grips onto your supple flesh, pushing your ass up to get a better hold on your pussy.

Your hips jolt over his mouth, eyes roll back. There’s not much more you can take. Body quaking, you warn, “I’m go-nna cum!”

“Do it!” Hobi rasps, sounding hungry and deprived.

Your jaw falls open, high pitched moans tumbling out as your release gushes into his mouth. Hobi flattens his tongue and lets you ride his face. You circle your hips around his face, mewling and whining as you grind out your orgasm. Hearing Hobi’s slurps and laps over your pussy only makes your body shudder and jolt all the more.

His mouth suddenly escapes your needy hips. You huff a whine, looking over your shoulder at him. Hobi has his jaw pushed out and lips purses like he’s holding onto something in his mouth. You furrow your brows, about to question him when he pushes your body into the bed between his legs.

Sitting up, Hobi leers over your ass while you’re left in suspense with your face buried in the sheets. He pulls your cheeks apart and drops a warm, thick dollop of saliva mixed cum. He uses his forefinger to rub it around your hole, catching any leaking streaks that rush back to your pussy. You shudder as a string of mewls muffles into the bed.

“Where’s your vibrator?”

You turn your head to the side, smushing your cheek into the mattress instead and ask, “Which one?”

Hobi chuckles at your words. As he pushes his finger into your ass, he replies, “How many do you have?”

Gasping from the blissful sensation, you try to focus on the question. You only really have two. The yellow star-shaped one and that dildo you use when you really need a good fucking. But judging by the tone of his voice, he seems to be expecting a lot. You chew on your lip and debate on inflating that number. But what will you do if he asks to see them all?

“I-I’m not sure.”

“Take a guess.”

You pause. Balling the sheets into your hands, you swallow thickly. You know you should just be honest, but after that mediocre blow-job, you don’t think you can handle disappointing him any further. Still, it’s better and safer to tell the truth. Besides, you know full well that you can’t lie to him. It would break your heart more than his.

“Just two,” you finally reply. “They’re at the table by the bed, first drawer.”

Hobi places a sweet kiss on each cheek before he shifts a bit behind you. The drawer opens and closes, Hobi shifting back in place again. “Is there something wrong with having just two?” He asks as he runs the curved edges of the star vibrator up and down your folds.

Your pussy quivers at the sensation, hips greedily grinding against it. So needy for more, one would think you didn’t just cum a minute ago. “You tell me,” you whisper. After swallowing your moans, you ask, “Doesn’t two seem innocent?”

The toy stops mid stroke and you stiffen up with it. Maybe you’ve taken the comment too far, but you can’t deny the gnawing voice in your heart telling you he’s just here for a quick fuck. You’ve raised your hopes up too high, romanticized him too often not to take what he had said to heart. Chewing on your lip, you wonder if you should apologize for your tone and suggest to just continue all this without another word. You’re about to voice your idea when you feel his lips on your curves of your ass again, the wet toy moving once more.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little innocence, Starfruit,” he mutters against your cheek. Trailing that toy up to your asshole, he grazes his teeth over your cheek and says, “It’s what makes you so sweet.”

As his teeth nibble on your skin, you quietly whine into the bed. Hobi holds you in place as you squirm, sensing your impatience to be played with again. “Deep breath,” he mutters against the curve of your ass.

You inhale deeply and brace yourself for what you think might be coming next. Hearing your intake, and catching the way your shoulders rise, Hobi pushes the wet toy into your tight hole. There’s a bit of resistance, as you're not used to more than two fingers in there usually. However, the toy enters just fine. It stretches you so fucking well, making your left eye twitch the way it always does when you’ve reached pure bliss.

“Besides,” Hobi suddenly continues. He shifts under you again, reaching back into the drawer. “You’re hardly innocent around me.”

The star buzzes to life in you. You gasp and sit up as your body shudders from the sudden jolt of pleasure. From your new position, you feel his tip poke at your clit and you can’t stop the squeal that escapes you then. Hobi wraps his arms around your waist, kissing the curve of your spine and igniting your lust frenzied nerves.

“I gotta be in you, honey,” he mutters between kisses.

“Yes, please.”

With a chuckle, Hobi nuzzles his face into your back. The gesture is so sincere, so casual that for a second you let yourself believe this is a usual occurrence. You let yourself believe that you and Hobi always find each other like this because you’re dating. You let yourself indulge in the fantasy that you belong to Hobi and he belongs to you. The second comes and goes, but you’re still left with his warm breath fanning on your back and sweet kisses trailing up your spine.

Hobi lifts your leg, muttering, “Under mine.” He positions both calves under his thigh and sits you on his lower stomach. His hands retreat off your body and you shiver from the loss of warmth his touch always brings.

You look over your shoulder, curious, and find him lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. He’s eyes lock on your ass. He admires it, studies it’s curves and the way it sits on his abdomen. Meeting your gaze, Hobi smirks.

“Make it clap for me.”

The request has you breathless. It sparks the memory of your question all those moments ago, before things go so hot and heavy. How many times? How many times did he watch that video?

With a shy smile, you turn back around and lean forward, resting your hands on the mattress between his legs. You take a deep breath then shake your ass, the claps subsequently following. Hobi groans behind you. You moan in response. The slow buzzes of the vibrator only heighten the act of shaking your ass over his abs.

With that extra little treat for you, you feel a bit guilty. He’d been showering you with attention and affection. He’s made you cum twice already and all you’ve offered was a sloppy blowjob you couldn’t even follow through with. You want to give him that little extra bit of attention he never forgets to offer you. Ceasing you movements for a second, earning a light spank to continue, you lift your hips.

“I don’t remember you asking for my cock, Starfruit.” His tone is heavy with authority. It only makes it harder to ignore him. “And I sure as hell don’t remember telling you to stop.”

Another smack lands on your ass. This one is harder, stronger and you whimper at the warning. You can’t bear to ignore him any longer, knowing his patience will soon run out. “I just wanted to try something, Hobi.”

He grunts, but doesn’t say much more. You take this as approval to continue and sit your ass just before his cock, pussy resting on his heavy balls. His hands find your hips again, but they don’t grope you like they usually do. Instead, they simply rest there. You interpret this as a precautionary measure, in case you try anything without permission again.

“Do you wanna watch it clap?”

Hobi hums in reponses, thumbs gently rubbing your skin. Leaning forward again, you push your ass back so his cock slips between your cheeks. The gasp that escapes him fills your chest with pride. A smile plays on your lips and you shake your ass once more, cheeks now clapping around his length.

“Innocent, my ass,” you giggle.

Hobi fills the room with that dark chuckle of his. You can hear the amusement of the joke and pleasure of the display from the tone of his voice. He smacks his hands down on your cheeks, helping them move fast around his cock.

“Fucking slut,” he hisses as he tightens his grip. His hips suddenly jolt upwards causing you to almost fall over his lap. Hobi catches you before you slip off his lap, however, and holds you back in place.

He huffs and hisses, moans and groans. You’re sure he’s about to cum, can even feel his cock twitching, but he stops you just before he lets himself go. “I just need to be inside you.”

The desperation in his voice has you giggling. Hobi spanks the laughter out of you, grumbling, “Behave or you won’t cum for the rest of the night.”

You bite back a whine. Shyly looking over your shoulder, you find that wild urge resurface in his gaze again. He must’ve been really close to cumming. Hobi catches your gaze, a wicked smirk tugging on his lips. He reaches for the vibrator’s remote and turns the intensity up. You whimper and pull on the sheets in front of you.

Lifting your hips, you nod at his warning and turn back around. You are met with your reflection from the full-length mirror by your closet. It’s parallel to your bed so you can see yourself sink down on Hobi’s massive cock and watch as well as feel your pussy stretch so fucking well from his girth. “H-Hobi,” you squeal as he guides your hips further down his shaft.

“Hoseok,” he corrects.

You cease all movement, already halfway down his length. The vibrator is still humming loudly in you, only just distracting you from what you’ve just heard. Did he just tell you his real name? He’d been so adamant on keeping it to himself, even refusing to know yours. Yet, here he lies. With his hands secured on your hips and cock ruining you for all other men, perhaps even toys, he tells you his name.

“Is it too much?” He suddenly asks while adjusting his hold on your hips.

You shake your head, breathlessly muttering, “No, it’s perfect.”

It’s not until he’s guiding you back down on him do you realize he was talking about his cock. You suck in a breath and wait until you’ve completely taken in him before whimpering your name. He grips onto your hips tighter and growls. The reaction is enough to fill you with worry. You fear he may not have wanted to know your name, that he only wanted you to scream his.

“(Y/N)”

His moans carry on as you circle your hips around his cock. Each syllable of your name sounds more desperate and greedy than the last. And when you finally switch to bouncing, ass clapping down on his thighs in loud smacks, he growls your name. Over and over again, you’re dripping off the tip of his tongue. All he thinks about is you, all he says is you, all he sees is you.

Ass in bliss, pussy in pleasure, your body meets heaven and your mind overflows with everything Hoseok. You can’t get enough of him or the way he utters your name in that fruity, lively voice of his.

You think this is all the pleasure you need when he sits himself up. He rests his chin on your shoulder, one hand sliding down from your hips to rub your clit while the other slides up. You catch his gaze in the reflection and offer a shy smile before you feel him yank your tank top down once more and expose your breasts.

Bouncing uncontrollably, your tits are all his attention can focus on now. He doesn’t even make a move to grope one of them, too consumed by the way they move to disturb their rhythm. The mere sight of him continuously being mesmerized by you only brings you closer to your high. Your pussy tightens around him again and you can’t ignore the twitch of his cock this time. You giggle at his reflection, drawing his attention away from your tits.

“You’re ready to cum again, Starfruit?”

The smirk he wears is just as deadly as the size of his cock.

You crumble beneath it, whimpering a tiny, “Yes, please, Hobi.”

He kisses your shoulder and nods, as if giving you the approval to cum whenever. Your eyes roll back, moans intensify and body seems to be losing all composure for the third time tonight. You screw your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm nearing but Hoseok replaces his kisses for a little bite on your shoulder. Gasping a moan, you snap your eyes open and meet his gaze once more.

“Look at me,” he orders in a hushed tone. “I want you to look at me when you cum.”

You expected to find that untamed animalistic look in his eyes, or maybe even a barrier of distance to remind you that this is just a one time thing. Instead, you find affection. Within those lust-blown pupils, you find that glowing sunshine-like sparkle of sincerity.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

Just like that, while holding his gaze and getting lost in his eyes, your ograsm overtakes the entirety of your body. Grounding your ass into hips, you shudder, whimper and tear your sheets out from under his legs. You’ve lost the ability to hold that honest gaze of his and completely shatter from the force of your orgasm. Mind whirling, ears ringing, you feel like the wind has got knocked out of you too. Seeing stars, you can’t think straight. All you can feel is him.

And while you’re losing yourself, gushing and convulsing all over him, Hoseok continues to rub harsh circles around your clit and rolls his hips up into yours. He further gets himself off all while helping you ride out your high as well. He groans in your ear as it rings and finally takes to groping your breast again. He grabs at anything, wanting to feel all of you as his dick twitches once more. With your warm cum coating his cock, Hoseok can’t hold himself back any longer. He locks his arms around your waist, holds you still over his hips and releases a heavy load of his cum.

“(Y/N)” he growls as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

You lean your head back against his shoulder. Eyes closed, mouth pouring moans, you revel in the ropes of cum he shoots in you. He fills you up all too well that you know you’ll cry if this is a first and last time occurrence. Your pussy quivers from the nonstop friction, that vibrator in your ass not doing you any favours to slow the process of overstimulation. You tell yourself that the moment Hoseok is done, you’re going to demand that he take that vibrator out and give you a moment to collect yourself before even thinking about another round.

But then he nuzzles his face into your skin and you melt into his frame. You feel him inhale your scent and smile against you. Biting your lip, you force yourself to endure another moment or two of overstimulation if it means he can stay this happy for a little bit longer.

“Ah, shit,” he suddenly mutters into the nape of your neck. “You alright, honey?”

You open your eyes and find him staring at your fucked out reflection with a look of concern. Meekly, you nod but he doesn’t buy it. He unwraps his arms around you and pushes your body forward. You whine and whimper, wanting to fight against it since that angle seems to give a whole new wave of pleasure you’re certain you cannot handle right now.

“Bend over, honey,” he chuckles. “Trust me.”

You moan out of frustration, your ass starting to become just as sensitive to the touch as your pussy is. Still, you know you can trust him, and bend over. “Careful.”

Hoseok kisses your asscheek and mutters, “always,” before gently tugging on the yellow rubber line to pull the star out. He sighs at whatever sight rests in front of him, but you’re all too consumed with recovering from such a hard orgasm. The ringing in your ears has barely stopped and you keep telling yourself that if you keep taking deep breaths you just might be about to settle your heart down and regain your sense of sound.

The buzzing suddenly ceases, a little clatter on your night table momentarily filling the silence. Hoseok then slowly pushes your hips off his softening cock, rubbing your ass in hopes of soothing all those little mewls that leave you.

He then gasps and you can already tell that you won’t like what comes out of his mouth next.

“I know you’re sensitive,” he starts. You whine, already knowing where this is leading. “But, you need to get cleaned up somehow.”

You shudder and grip onto the sheets as a precaution. The ringing in your ears has somewhat settled, but you don’t get comfortable with that fact just yet. After a long whine, you ask, “How do you want me?”

Hoseok breaths a chuckle and you hear him pat a spot next to him. Heaving, you look over your shoulder at the vacant space beside him. You sigh and crawl over there, lying on your back and spreading your legs immediately. Hoseok runs a hands down your torso, watching as you make yourself comfortable on the bed. The two of you work around each other like this is a nightly routine, and you’re not mad about that.

Once you’re settled, he positions himself between your legs and dips his head down to your pussy. You close your legs around his face in an instant, the sensitivity being too much to handle too soon. Hoseok doesn’t care; he works through it. He laps and licks up every part of your mixed cum. Soon, however, his hands get a hold of your thighs and he pulls them apart. He shakes his head as he devours your pussy once more and you find yourself having to tug on his hair to get him off you.

“Hoseok, pl-please!” You whine, attempting to close your legs once more.

Unlatching his lips from your overstimulated pussy with a little wet pop, he sits up and smirks down at your fucked out state. You bring your legs together, cross your ankles and pull your knees into your chest as the last remnants of your orgasm shudders through you.

The bed dips beside you. Hoseok makes himself comfortable. He lies next to you, chest heaving and eyes locked on the ceiling. And once you feel your orgasm finally pass through, you unfold yourself. Your nakedness has never been more apparent to you until now. With lustful desires trickling away, all that remains is the bareness of your bodies and the hovering reality of your emotions.

You shift your weight and pull your comforter over your curves, quickly shielding yourself before he can look over and get another look at you. You freeze all over when he spares you a glance, curious as to what you’re doing. It’s like you didn't just spend the better part of an hour or so screaming his name.

Hoseok smirks, gaze wandering down your covered frame anyways. His eyes don’t need to undress you, knowing exactly what you look like from what angle, yet they still do. He finds your gaze again, breath stabilizing, and mimics your actions. Shifting to get under the sheets, Hoseok asks, “Are you okay?”

The question stunts you. Actually, the fact that he’s still here and not halfway through getting dressed stunts you. You can only stare at him for a moment, your ears regaining full ability and chest ceasing its full rises and falls.

He furrows his brows. Taking your silence as avoidance from the truth, he says, “You can tell me if I hurt you. I’m sorr-”

“Aren’t you leaving?” Your question sounds colder than intended. And the fact that you cut him off to ask it, is not doing you any favours.

Hoseok can only stare back at you, speechless. He chews on his lip and scoffs a dry sigh before you quickly correct your intentions.

“Not that I want you to leave.” A brow of his quirks in interest. “It’s just… I thought that’s what you’d want to do.”

He must see the fear in your eyes, must hear the earnest plea to stay in your voice as he shifts closer to you and tucks an arm under your head. You scoot closer to him too, sweaty bodies colliding once more. Your arms draped over the other’s waist, you pull each other closer. His breath fans over your hot face and you slowly trail your gaze up from his neck to his eyes.

Lips less than an inch apart, Hoseok mutters, “If it’s up to me, neither one of us would ever leave.” He nudges your nose with his, brushing that hoop piercing against your skin.

Your hand slides up to his face, caressing his cheek while your thumb rubs his chin. You want to tell him you feel the same way, that you’d want to be in any moment as long as he’s there with you. But, he seems to read that in your eyes, in the way you hold his gaze shamelessly and flash that shy smile.

Your lips are so close now, you’re exchanging breaths, but he doesn’t kiss you yet. Instead he whispers, “Thirteen.”

You knit your brows as confusion riddles your face.

“You asked how many times I’ve watched your video; thirteen.”

Thirteen. Your mind struggles to comprehend that reality, eyes searching his face for signs of dishonesty. You only find genuineness and a hint of admiration in his eyes and the way he says, “Starfruit; (Y/N).”

“You couldn’t have gotten off that many times,” you scoff.

“I didn’t.”

Your nerves jolt into another heartwarming frenzy as your body freezes over with realization. It’s never been about just sex, it’s never been about cameras and live streams. It’s only ever been about finding the one on the screen, finding the hope you’ve been searching for every time either one of you logs on and scrolls through comments.

“I just came back from an errand. Jin wanted cake and Jimin was too tired to get out.” He suddenly starts, pulling you out of your thoughts. You pause for a moment, realizing that Jin and Jimin have a third roommate. “I was about to go inside when I saw you walk out of your apartment. I honestly couldn’t believe it was you. But I knew it the moment I saw those yellow shorts.”

Your breath hitches and he smiles. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You walked so fast,” he chuckles. “And by the time I figured out what I wanted to say, you were already on the elevator. I was honestly about to just go back inside and forget the entire thing. I even opened the door. I couldn’t go in, though. I just needed to see you one last time.”

He pauses to press a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. You flutter your eyes shut, melting into his existence. He continues, “I ran down the stairs, hoping to catch you before you left. When I saw you checking the mail, I'm not sure what came over me. I pretended to be doing the same thing. I didn’t think you’d be that embarrassed about the video.”

Slowly, you open your eyes and meet his apologetic gaze. Heart swooning, you let out a shaky breath and confess in a quiet mutter, “I don’t want to be a camgirl.”

“What?”

“I sent you that video because I wanted you to notice me again. And you’ve been looking so sad and tired during your lives, I just wanted to cheer you up a bit.”

Hoseok stares, brows knitted, lips parted. You open your mouth to apologize when he presses his lips to yours, engulfing you in a whirlwind of soft gold emotions. You drink in every breath, curling your tongue around his.

“I lied about you being innocent.”

You blink.

“Well, you are innocent but that’s not the reason why I told you not to live stream. I just wanted to keep you to myself.”

“I’m not very happy with the idea of sharing you either.”

“I really like your ass.”

You pause. Your war of confessions hovers over your tangled bodies but all you can do is laugh at his words. He can’t hold back the laughter bubbling from his chest either, and you feel the sweet rumble of his chuckles before you hear them. He gingerly leans in for another kiss but it seems to be more teeth than lips as you two try to laugh through the kiss.

The hand resting on your waist trails down to your ass, rubbing gentle circles around it as your laughter trickles out. You kiss him again, properly and with little tongue so you can focus on the way his lips move against yours.

When he pulls away, he shares his last confession. “I hate streaming.”

You bite back a gasp, chewing on your lips. He takes this as a sign to continue. “I mean, I used to love it. It just seems like more work than it’s worth now. And I want moments like this more often.”

“You’re quitting,” you whisper in realization.

He nods.

You hum, nodding along as everything begins to make sense. You conclude that he must’ve felt this way for a while and that’s why there was a sudden shift in his demeanour.

Pushing his hair back, you softly kiss his cheek and mutter against his skin, “I started watching for Hobi. But, I sent that video to Hoseok.”

Bodies flushed, Hoseok shudders against you. Eyes flutter shut, hearts beat in sync, and as you drift further into this daydream, you hear the lingering words he breathes into your hair.

“You’re an angel, (Y/N). Sweeter than Starfruit.”

note; please do not leave hate towards me or any other readers. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my work without my permission.

#bangtanfairygarden #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #networkbangtan #btsguild #bangtanhq #btsgoldnet #houseofddaeng #jhope smut #jung hoseok #jung hoseok smut #hoseok smut #hobi smut #jhope x reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #magicshopnet

3K notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

For the 390 prompts, how about #381 “You weren’t supposed to hear that.” with Catfish... My devil side want to make it angst but it's totaly up to you 😭 🌱

It’s angst hours, baby!

Pairing: Frankie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: language

MASTERLIST

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Hey,” Santi slipped into your abandoned stool at the bar next to Frankie. You were all at the bar for weekly get together, but Frankie had noticed you seemed down from the moment you walked in. He was attuned to you, very much so from years of being your closest friend, but it hadn’t taken much to see that you were upset. Your lips barely managed to curve into a smile, and your eyes had a heavy tiredness behind them, despite your best efforts to appear happy, “you heard about what happened, right? With Bee?”

“I...no? She hasn’t said anything to me,” his brows knitted together in confusion as he downed the rest of his beer. A sense of worry settled into his bones at your behavior; it was so strange and unlike you, “w-what happened?”

“Mark,” Santi dramatically rolled his eyes at Frankie before flagging the bartender over for another round of drinks; it seemed like you could all use it. Rage boiled in his blood at the sound of the name; he’d hated Mark from the day the two men had met. It wasn’t just because he was the man that had won over your affections, although that was definitely a large part of it, but because after a while it was clear that he was genuinely an asshole. He wasn’t good, or good to you, but for some reason you’d never seen that. You ended up putting up with so much shit that you’d normally never take from anyone else. Frankie’s grasp around his empty bottle was so tight it was a surprise it didn’t shatter into little pieces, “he cheated on her...she finally dumped him.”

“He cheated on her? That fucking asshole,” Frankie almost jumped out of his spot as every bad thing he wanted to do to the man that broke your heart bubbled up, “I will-”

“She found them together,” Santi put his hand on Frankie’s arm to calm him down, “and apparently he still tried to make it seem like her fault. She’s really upset, Fish. Don’t make things worse right now. I know - we all know - how you feel about her. Give her time and space.”

“I’m her best friend,” he huffed as he slid out of his spot, “I need to be there for her. I’ll just...I’ll make sure she’s okay. I don’t understand why she wouldn’t tell me...:”

“Why do you think, Fish?” Santi cocked a brow at his friend before letting out a long sigh, “she knows you’ve always hated him. She doesn’t want you to do anything stupid and get yourself into trouble. She loves you too, you know. Even if she doesn’t realize that.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Everyone knows it,” Santi was amused at how blind the both of you could be at times, “it’s so obvious to everyone...except perhaps the two of you. The way you look at each other, how you act...that shit ain’t just friends shit. You both know it.”

“Then why did she date Mark? For almost two years and waste that time on him?” Frankie grew frustrated as he slid off the stool and hit the dirty floor of the bar with a dull thud, “why wouldn’t she say anything to me?”

“Why haven’t you ever said anything to her?”

“I don’t want to lose Bee,” he pulled off his old, batted cap and hand a hand through his curls in frustration, before slapping it back on his head, “I’d rather keep her as my friend forever than face a life without her.”

“There’s your answer.”

“I’ve got to see her,” he insisted, brushing past Santi, “I have to let her know.”

“Don’t - give her time and space,” Santi grabbed his arm and insisted, “don’t push her just because he’s gone. She’s hurt and been through a lot. Be her friend and let things happen on their own.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Frankie snapped as he pulled out of Santi’s grasp and headed to the back of the bar, where he’d seen you step outside and disappear a little bit earlier.

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were pacing around with your phone pressed to your ear as you tried to keep it together and not break down into another fit of tears and sadness. The whole day had seemed like a blur, one painful, horrible nightmare and you just wanted it to be over. You just wanted to sleep and wake up and have no memory of anything. Perhaps not even the last two years.

“I can’t believe he did that to you,” your sister sounded as incredulous as you felt, “you’ve been so good to him, more than he deserves honestly, and for him to do that? Asshole. I am so, so sorry for what he did to you, babes.”

“Me too,” was all you could choke out as your lips trembled with effort not to cry. You looked at the inky black sky, dotted with glittering stars as you tried to ground yourself.

“At least you’ve got the guys with you. If he does or says anything, you know they’ve got your back,” she reminded you, causing you to experience a momentary pause of peace, “and now you can finally tell Frankie how you feel.”

“No,” you insisted firmly as Frankie stepped outside, quiet as a mouse as he tried not to interrupt. He hadn’t meant to be sneaky and listen in, truly, but now that he was there, he couldn’t stop himself, “I’m not telling him anything.”

“You love him! You’ve been in love with him for what? Almost six years?” she scoffed at the other end of line, “you have to tell him how you feel, now is the time. He’s not...he’s not to wait for you forever. If you love him, let him know.”

“I don’t,” you lied thickly, steeling your nerves as you bit back bile. It was hard to lie; especially when it came to Frankie. He was everything you were not: good, gentle, pure, loving. He didn’t deserve to have you dragging him down. He deserved the world - something you felt you could never give him. He would be so much better off without you, no matter how much you actually loved him.

“You’re such a liar!” she insisted as you groaned, “the two of you are in love! You’re just blind fools, scared to get hurt.”

“No!” you shouldn't have called her, you should have just gone home and cried yourself to sleep like you had planned on, “I don’t love him! I don’t love Frankie. He’s nothing but a friend and he’ll never be anything else!”

Frankie’s breath hitched in his throat as he listened to your angry tirade. He must have heard wrong...surely you hadn’t meant it, right? Santi had said...everyone had told him….he loved you. But...you didn’t love him? He needed to get out of there and fast; he left like he was going to be sick. But as he turned on his heel, he almost slipped on a rock and made a small sound of surprise.

You froze in fear at the sound, realizing for the first time that you weren’t alone at all. Your sister was still babbling away at you, calling you a liar as you turned around and found Frankie, frozen in fear as he tried to get back inside. You swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what had happened; he had heard your blatant denial of love. The lie you wish you’d never spewed. Ending the call without a word, you stepped closer to him as his own eyes appeared glossy with tears.

“Oh Frankie,” your voice cracked as more tears rolled down your cheeks. Could this day really have gotten that much worse? You wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole, “you weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“I wish I hadn’t,” he admitted quietly, “I came to look for you, to make sure you were okay. Santi told me what happened.”

“Frankie, it was a lie,” you might as well tell him the truth now. There was nothing left to lose at this point, and he deserved to know the truth finally, “I was talking to my sister and it was all a lie. I didn’t mean it. I-I do love you-”

“You don’t need to lie to me now to spare my feelings,” he stared at the ground before slowly opening the door to the bustling bar back open, “if that’s how you feel it’s how you feel. I just...I should have known better. I was the fool, not you.”

“Francisco, don’t go,” you darted towards him but he was already inside and weaving his way through the crowd, barely acknowledging your friends as he made to leave, “Frankie! Frankie! Don’t do - don’t walk away. It was a lie to get her off my back and because I….”

“Because what?” he turned around, and the look on his face was enough to break your heart then and there. His cheeks were already tear stained and his eyes were nothing but hurt, as you struggled to find the right words. After a few beats of tense silence, he shrugged, “I’ll see you around, Bee. Eventually...I just need some time to deal with my own feelings. I’m sorry I thought there could ever be more between us.”

“Francisco,” his name was a pitiful whimper as you watched him get into his truck and start, leaving without hesitation. Your hands flew to your face as you stood there in panic, “what have I done?”

“Bee?” Benny came up behind you, confused as he looked between you and the spot Frankie was previously parked in, “what happened? Is everything alright?”

“I think I just fucked everything up,” you admitted as you let him pull you into a hug, “I think I just lost the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“He’ll come around,” Benny promised, although it felt hollow, “it’s Fish. You know he will.”

“I hope so,” you cried, “I sure hope so.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle @4ng3lf43 @intu-witch-tion @wondergal2001 @gingerbreadandpaper @willowtheewisp @milkxxkookies @smollpinkgirl @zukoyonce @boomtownboy @velia27 @discowitchyy

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fem!reader

263 notes · View notes

hyunjilicious · 3 years

Text

what is and what should never be [bucky barnes]

A/n: ok, so. Im really fucking insecure about this. I literally poured my heart into this fic. I'm genuinely unhappy with the beginning, but I promise you, it gets better!! I don't have it in me to rewrite it for the 4th time. I really hope you'll still like it though. If you ask me, this is the best fic idea I even had. Please, please, if you enjoyed it, let me know!!!

Summary: It was you and Bucky. An unlikely couple that shared equally disturbed pasts. When you get a day off, your paradise turns into hell as Bucky's nightmares return, leaving you alone to deal with The Winter Soldier. (FLUFF, SMUT, ANGST) 12k

Warnings: 2 smut scenes - they're graphic but not extreme, fluff, angst, violence, mentions of death and suicide, blood, a fight scene - also quite graphic but it was written to serve the angst. I don't want to spoil the ending, but if you really connect with the characters, you will not hate me!!

This day had been long awaited. After months of back to back missions and endless efforts to climb up the greasy pole of US social standards, words failed to describe how ecstatic you were to know, that for the next 24 hours, your whole schedule would fully be in your hands.

You had the freedom to do just about anything you wanted, and the simple fact that the rest of the avengers left to deal with some paperwork excited you to no end. You woke up when it was time for them to take off, and made a snarky remark about heading to the gym - something along the lines of having a productive day centered on self development.

Just about 20 minutes later, you and Bucky, now also alone in the Stark Tower, decided to start off your day on the right foot. He offered to make protein smoothies as you changed into something comfortable and fitting for a workout, but neither of you got their job done.

You had no idea how that happened, but before you knew it you were wearing your sports bra and still had your pajama pants on, moaning on the counter of Tony's kitchen as Bucky had lodged himself between your legs, hungrily exploring the heated skin of your neck, peppering you with bruise marks that represented his adoration for you. "You heal fast anyway" he shrugged, pulling you closer and digging his teeth into your flesh, sucking profusely and eliciting an erotic moan from your lips.

With every new hickey he left, another one would disappear, which in turn would make him even more frustrated, “The hell should I do? Tattoo hickeys on you!?” he groaned, moving up your neck. You caught his cheeks into your palms and kissed him back, smiling as he kept getting more and more aggravated.

It didn't come as a surprise when the blender went berserk, splattering fruit pulp, almond milk and protein powder all over the pristine walls of the room - both of you have long forgotten about it.

The way Bucky cleaned the mess was the epitome of not giving a shit, and you couldn't find it more endearing. He bitched and whined his way through the whole process, and tears formed at the corners of your eyes at the ridiculousness of the half assed job he just did.

You eventually reached the gym - of course, against all your pouting and begging to put off this session. "Doll, you're the only avenger who can't fight. A punk on the street could snap your purse and there would be nothing you can do"

Wrong, he was not. You couldn't fight - but at the same time that didn't mean you were defenceless. It was your immense power that for months on end made your teammates consider you a liability. The energy that surged through your veins had been too great for you to handle, and in fact, it still was, but now, thanks to the joined efforts of Tony and Bruce, there was a way for that power to be contained. Their solution came in the form of two massive shackles wrapped around the length of your forearms. They were made of dimeritium and kept all kinds of energy from leaving your body. But, even so, that energy was in full form, buzzing inside every fiber of your being. And so, while wearing them you couldn't attack anyone, but there wasn't a way for them to harm you either. That field of energy protected you from every kind of damage and wounds you had ever encountered, ranging from fist fights to automatic rifles to guided grenades.

"I'm the only one that doesn't need to know" you huffed and puffed, annoyed but still determined to get this first training session done with.

But that never happened. Halfway through your warm up rounds, your teasing side awoke and it took you about ten minutes to go from batting your eyelashes and flaunting your ass, to nonchalantly cupping his cock into your hand.

No one could blame Bucky for not even trying to stop you. Bless him, he did everything he could, but he was never able to resist you. And probably never will be.

By the time you were done at the gym, both your bodies were coated in lecherous layers of sweat, no of them being from actually working out. It was only a matter of time until you managed to break his self control and he had you sprawled on all fours in the middle of the boxing ring, moaning your soul out as he pounded your pussy.

The momentum made your whole frame rock back and forth, your hair falling around your face, "Holy fuck-"

The room vibrated with the vulgar slaps he afflicted on your bare ass. You arched your back and cried his name out loud, "Come on, Bucky- I- harder please-"

"How are you already so needy?" he chuckled, caging your waist between his strong arms and pulling you up until your back reached his chest. "I ate this pussy this morning before we got out of bed"

"You know I love your tongue-" you giggled out of breath as you tried to look at him over your shoulder. "But it doesn't compare to your cock"

"What does?" Bucky rhetorically questioned before picking up his pace. He kept slamming his hips into yours, fucking you at full force as with each thrust, his cock rammed against your walls hard enough to make you see stars.

"I'm really fucking close, Buck" you whined, feeling your knees start to refuse to maintain your weight any longer.

"Don't cum yet" he panted, "Wait for me"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" you cried out loud, liquid pleasure seeping out of you in the form of fresh tears streaming down your cheeks. "Please-" you whined, "I can't hold it anymore, I'm-"

"Not yet, baby" Bucky groaned, easily stopping you from wiggling around in his hold. His thrusts became sloppy and the orgasm got the best of him. He buried his face deep in your shoulder as his high forced guttural moans to rip from his throat.

As he filled you up with his cum, as much as you wanted to comment about him making you wait and then not even bothering to tell you you could cum, you couldn't. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and your chest heaved as the spiral of bliss seemed to go on and on, tons of ecstasy propagating in long painful waves across your body.

"Fuck-" Bucky panted as helped you up, "I could get used to days like this. We should retire"

"I'm not retiring-" you teasingly shook your head, "not until you find a way to give me a baby"

"I'd give you all the babies" he retorted, tugging your hand.

It caused you to lose your balance and stumble into his chest, "I love you"

"Love you" Bucky kissed the top of your head and spun you around. With his palms on your hips, he started guiding you towards the door, "Let's get you cleaned up"

And then, another wave of unproductivity followed. You showered, ordered pizza, whined about how there was still some smoothie left on the floor, and after you warned him about it, your face fell as Bucky stepped directly in the middle of the puddle of almond milk. He was fuming, the incident wiped any traces of happiness off his face. He mumbled something about that being the last pair of comfy socks he had left and something about Tony's devices being a constant pain in the ass.

He went on and on until you ambushed him with kisses up his neck and shoved your hands under his shirt. In an instant his bickering turned into soft giggles as he innocently relaxed under your touch. You eventually cleaned up the mess and tried to make yourself busy. Nothing worked, you weren't in the mood for anything and at the same time, even though you did absolutely nothing all day, you felt a wave of tiredness envelop you.

At about 4pm, and you Bucky had already been lazily laying in bed, a mess of tangled limbs under the fluffy duvet. Your conversation started from the tactical gear he swore would look better on you than on him and then wondered how you didn't know how to sow.

"I'll hit you" you threatened.

"I'm sorry" he laughed, holding onto your forearm as it was resting on his chest, "But you know how much I love it when you get angry at my misogynistic jokes"

"It's rude" you scoffed - you didn't mean his jokes, but the fact that when he grew up, women were not anywhere near where they are today.

"You know I don't mean it"

"I know you don't" you laughed, "Otherwise I'd have actually hit you"

"Don’t worry" Bucky said, "I'd hit myself if I was that stupid"

"Cute" you smiled, kissing his shoulder. Looking up at him, you promoted your chin against his chest, "Do you miss it? The 40s i mean"

He thought about it for a second. "Nah" there was a bit of nostalgia in his tone, but you believed him. "I've kinda made my peace with the fact that everyone from my old life is gone. I wouldn't want to go back now. I got you. I got all of you guys. I'm good now, really good"

"I'm glad" you beamed, feeling yourself warm up from the inside just thinking of the progress he made. After a few seconds, you spoke up again, "But what about the society? Like the day to day life? How do you like the 2010s?"

"I can't lie" Bucky laughed, "I liked Romania better. Much simpler."

"You lived in a dead beat apartment, hiding everyday" you scoffed, "How was that better?"

"I don't know… maybe it was the simple life. Apparently I'm all about that"

"You'd move back there?"

"If you came with me?" he questioned, looking down at you. There was genuine sincerity in his eyes and a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. "Wouldn’t even think twice"

"Maybe one day" you sighed with content. You snuggled back against his side, and closed your eyes. "We're not done avenging yet" you mumbled.

He didn't say anything to that. You didn't know whether he was getting lost in thoughts or if he was starting to drift off, but you would have been fine with either. When he spoke up again, you didn't expect the conversation to take this route.

"About Romania…" he sighed, "What made you come with Steve back in 2016?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-" he muttered, rubbing his light stubble, "I know why Steve came-" Bucky chuckled, "And Sam's all up his ass, so there's that. But what about you?"

"I-"

"I'm aware of the rift I caused between you guys back then. So that's why I'm asking. What made you stand by Steve from the beginning?"

"I knew how much you meant to him. And I know how this is going to sound, but I felt sorry for you, Buck. I know what it's like to be alone, to have everyone turn against you. You deserved better"

"Love-?" he called softly, his voice nearly breaking. "What do you mean you know what it's like to have everyone turn against you?"

As you maintained the eye contact, you felt tears prickle, "I know it wasn't fair of me to keep my past a secret, but-"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to-" he said softly, his eyes warm. The pain was readable on his features, he hated how your whole demeanour changed.

"It's not that I don't want you to know, it's just that I hate talking about it. Gives me nightmares."

"Then we can just drop it" Bucky murmured, gathering you closer.

"I wish you could know without me telling you" you laughed, "You make everything better and easier. I should've told you, I know. It isn't fair to you. We've been together for almost two years but as far as you're concerned I didn't exist until I joined the avengers. I don't even know how much they know. We never talked about it"

"Love, listen to me. I'm here whenever you want to talk about it. You didn't do anything wrong. There are a lot of things about me that you don't know either. We're not those people anymore. No one can blame us for trying to escape out past"

"Yeah, you're right" you sighed.

Gathering your power, you pushed yourself up and settled beside him, with your legs crossed. You grabbed his hand pulling it into your lap, and intertwined your fingers with his as you spoke.

"Forget the official story, there's no truth to it anyway"

"I really didn't believe your mum was a criminal and that you were in a mental asylum" he joked.

"Good-" you smiled, his words lifting the atmosphere a bit. "Truth is, I don't know anything about my parents. But I have my assumptions. I grew up in that soviet facility so I never met them. I was told it was owned by a group of socialite scientists who wanted our help"

"Our? Who's we?"

"There were 7 of us"

"Did they have the same power as you?"

"Approximately. When we were younger, we used to comply and do everything we were told but as we grew up, things started to change. We weren't happy. Who could be? Considering we were being held in cells and studied like lab rats. We started to act differently and some might even say we tried to rebel, but that didn't work obviously, and that's when the restrictions began. For the last 3 years I spent there, there hadn't been a day where the temperature passed 0°C."

Your skin crawled as you recaled the endless nights you spent shivering your way to sleep. Everything around you was ice cold. But it wasn't for the sole purpose of torturing you. It was your only weakness. As the temperature dropped, so did the movement of the atoms that made up your body - eliminating your powers to the point where you were barely alive.

"One day, as spring came, we wanted to break out. We made a plan, and figured that as soon as we were out, we'd be fine. We were wrong. We were off about the weather and they got us before we even exited the perimeter. That's when the avengers heard about us."

By now, Bucky's eyes were wide with genuine curiosity, his mouth agape as he took in the information you provided. With every word you spoke his grip tightened around your fingers and his eyebrows gathered even further. There was discomfort and anger in his features, but he didn't interrupt you once.

"After that, the restrictions got tougher. We realised there was no way out. A lot of things came together in that small time frame. I realised what that place actually was days after we tried to escape. My friends - or that's what I thought they were, figured out another plan. Why fight when you can just eliminate the premise?"

Bucky moved his lips but no words came out. He cleaned his throat and sat up a bit, "What- what do you mean?"

"They tried to kill me" you said, plastering a sympathetic smile on your lips, hoping it would make it easier for him to hear.

"What the fuck. Why?"

"I think my dad used to be part of that team. And I think he made me the way I am. Now I don't know why he wasn't around anymore, but that team wasn't trying to get us to do anything. They were trying to make more of me. So if I was dead-"

"There would be no reason to keep the other kids…" Bucky finished the sentence for you.

You nodded.

"And what happened?"

You bowed your head trying to find a way to put your words together. Bucky didn't rush you, just reassuringly rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, waiting. When a tear from your cheek slipped and landed on the back of his hand, you looked up and took a deep breath. "I killed them. All of them."

He didn't say anything. Didn’t move a muscle, as he waited for you to continue.

"I didn't even want to do that, Buck" you sobbed, breaking down. "I killed over 20 people because I was afraid. I didn't even move. I was in the corner of my room the whole time, but everyone who approached me was fried to death. I don't even know how I did that. I was just scared"

"Oh, baby" Bucky cooed, pushing himself up to wrap his arms around you. You fell against his chest, crumbling in his embrace. "I hope you know that was not your fault, ok?" he asked, rubbing your back. "You were just a kid, alone and afraid. It breaks my fucking heart, those bastards. Please don't feel sorry for them"

"I feel sorry for the other kids"

"They tried to kill you, Y/n" Bucky countered, "If you hadn't killed them, I would've gone after them. All of them"

"They were desperate..."

"So were you!"

"I can't help but feel like a monster sometimes, you know? Like I'm reckless and out of control. There are times when I'm all happy and excited about what tomorrow would bring, and then i remember what I did, and I have a hard time fighting away the thoughts that try to tell me I don't deserve that"

"What you deserve is the fucking world ok?" Bucky said, tilting your chin so you could see just how serious he was. "This past couple of years, you saved hundreds of lives and I know for a fact you did it out of the pure kindness of your heart, not because you wanted to make up for anything in the past. You're a fucking angel. You're the embodiment of good, you hear me? I know you. You'll never understand how much respect I have for you, and how in awe I am with the kind of person you are. Please, don't ever think less of yourself. Ever, ok?"

Tears rolled down your cheeks as his words proved to be much more than you were able to hear at that moment. "Thanks, Buck. That's sweet of you to say-"

"It's not sweet of me to say, it's the fucking truth" he scoffed, but he somehow managed to make it sound loving. "You didn't even fucking try, but just being around you made me feel like a person again. You're amazing, Y/n. We're all lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have you."

"You're gonna make me cry" you sniffled, curling yourself into a ball against his chest, "I know you were in a dark place when we met. I'm glad I managed to help you through it"

"You pulled me through it" he sighed, tightening his hold around you. "I went from wanting to die, to thinking that I didn't even deserve the easy way out. Look at me now."

"Buck, stop"

"I love you so fucking much" Bucky laughed.

His whole frame shook as he pulled you back down, safely holding you between his arms, "You're amazing" he added, kissing the top of your head, "Perfect"

"I said, stop" you chuckled, slapping his side, "I get it, you like me, can we-"

"I adore you" Bucky cut you off after grabbing the sides of your face between his palms. "And thanks for trusting me. I know it wasn't easy for you to talk about your past, so thank you. I'm always here for you. If there's anything ever, I got you, ok? Forever"

"I got you too" you added, kissing his cheek and then moving along his jawline, "No matter what happens, you'll always have me on your side. I'm all yours, Bucky"

"Yeah, you are, doll. All mine"

After that talk, how you managed to fall into a deep sleep will always remain a mystery. Nightmares didn't make their way into your mind, and you settled for a dreamless slumber, actually fully content for the first time in a long while.

But not everybody processed grief the same way. And if Bucky mentioned earlier that he was lucky to have you, as you were pulled out of your sleep, you realised that he wasn't as lucky as you were when it came to the mysteries that creep up on you when you least expect them.

"Wake up sunshine"

The sound reached your ears, but it wasn't Bucky's voice, so you just groaned in response and rolled over to the other side, completely pressing your face into the pillow.

"Buttercup, it's time to wake up"

The voice seemed uneasy, as if the person speaking was actually terrified. You opened your eyes wearily, and were met with the usual, complete darkness of your room.

"Come on, Y/n" they spoke again. You turned to see one of Tony's maintenance robots hovering above your body, one small screen lit up on its front. Blinking a few times to rid yourself of the sleep still lingering in your eyes, you managed to make out the faces of Tony and Steve, both staring at you.

"What's going on?" you mumbled.

"You've got incoming," Tony announced, and then shook his head at whatever someone next to him had said. The microphone wasn't performant enough for you to hear what the other person said, but it was not like you cared.

"Incoming what?" you questioned, still confused out of your mind.

He turned his attention back to you, "The asshole"

You frowned and Steve scoffed, "Y/n, it's Bucky. He's not well"

"Wh-" you mumbled, your head snapping to the side, only then realising his side of the bed was empty. You shuffled your arm around the sheets, still warm. "What- what happened?"

"He's gone rogue, Y/n" Steve announced, genuine worry and guilt audible in his voice, "You need to make sure he doesn't leave. You need to stop him"

Tony's workstation. You needed to get the shackles off your arms if you wanted to stand a chance, "Tony? How do I take these off?" you asked, pointing to your cuffs.

"Already taken care off" he nodded, "Get to my desk, it's unlocked. All you need to do is actually get there. If you can"

"If I can-?" you began asking, but a loud explosion sound cut you off, causing the bed to shake as a wind blew through your room. "What the fuck!?"

"He may have found the grenade launchers" Tony smiled bitterly.

"Y/n," Steve called for you, "Please, be careful. And call us. Me and Nat will take the jet but I don't know-"

"Don't worry" you shook your head, jumping off the bed and rushing to your closet. You chose the first clothes you saw laying before your eyes and put them on, ready to go look for Bucky. "I got this, I promise"

"Oh, and Y/n?" Tony said, making you turn to him at the last minute, "Try not to fry my tower"

You nodded and refrained from making any promises you didn't know you could keep.

As soon as you walked out the door, the sound of automatic rifles going off became deafening. Stepping over piles of broken glass, you made your way to the emergency staircase, heading to Tony's lab. You did so with maximal caution, knowing that if you were spotted, there would be no going back.

Descending the last remaining flight of stairs until his work station, a rush of adrenaline surged through you, knowing just how close you were. Silently rounding the corner, your eyes landed on Bucky's frame, easily holding one of the remaining SHIELD agents up by the neck.

He turned to look at you, eyes cold and empty. Not even rage. There was nothing there. No expression, no empathy, no feeling. It was as if he was dead. This wasn't him.

"Buck-" you panted, raising your hands up in the air, signaling surrender. You eyed Tony's desk, determined to stall him until you managed to free yourself of the cuffs.

You took a cautious step to the side, hands still up in the air. Bucky watched you as the man struggled against his hold, legs spasming uncontrollably as he kicked and squirmed, even though it was so clearly in vain.

"Don’t mind me-" you smiled, sweat flooding your pores as you slowly approached your destination. "I'll just-"

"You'll just what-?" Bucky groaned, flinging his victim with impeccable ease. The agent's body flew across the room, crushing into the only device that had the power to help you get through this. As the work station crumpled under his weight, so did your hopes of getting out of this.

"Bucky, hey-" you mumbled, afraid of pissing him off, "I-"

"Who the hell is Bucky?" he frowned, starting to march towards you. Your blood ran cold, knowing you didn't have what it took to keep up with him. You were never able to dodge anyone's blows, let alone his. When he reached you, his hand instantly reached around your neck, lifting you off the floor, "SHIELD?" he asked after taking a look at your attire. Although not carrying the emblem, it was probably the only explanation that made sense to him.

"Well, um-" you huffed, holding onto his wrist in hopes of not running out air, "No, not SHIELD"

"Then who are you?" he growled, tightening his hold on your windpipe.

"Fuck-" you gasped, kicking your legs, even through he didn't even flinch when you hit him. "You're not gonna believe this but, um-"

"Try me"

You looked into his eyes, hoping it would serve as some kind of a memento, that maybe he'd remember you. "You know me, Buck. It's Y/n, I'm- your girlfriend?"

Even saying it made you feel weird. This killing machine, apparently hell bent on wrecking havoc, was not the man you loved, and you cringed just imagining his reaction to hearing your words.

And it did turn out to be worse than expected, as he spun around, doing a complete 180° with your body before slamming you down on the floor. The wood cracked under your bones, knocking the wind out of you. The pain of the impact was excruciating, propagating along your body in waves of some physical agony you had never felt before. The sound of your bones cracking made you sick to your stomach. Your ears caught the sound of your arteries being torn as your organs collapsed.

And if you felt every inch of your body being shattered and destroyed, it was God's way of making you pay for your parent's mistakes, as when your wounds healed mere seconds later, the pain did not go away. Your nerve receptors still registered damage to the tissues, and no matter whether you were actually as good as new, your brain couldn't process that.

What consumed you the most was the fact that as you struggled to stand up, the pain of broken limbs lingered on. But you fought through it, gathered yourself and stood up, facing him again.

You winced with every muscle contraction, but eventually your eyes met his. He showed curiosity, along with something else. Something else which you wished wasn't determination to finish you.

"Can we-" you whimpered, extending a hand, "Can we talk?"

"Talk!?" Bucky raged, grabbing your wrist and twisting your arm to the point where he spun you around, your back pressing against his chest. "Not here to talk" he growled into your ear.

The hairs on your body stood as you heard his voice. Even though it was technically the same voice you loved more than anything in the world, it made you now shiver with a fear you've never experienced before.

You didn't get a chance to sink too deep in your thoughts before Bucky raised your arm, dislocating your shoulder and busting your humerus into pieces. The pain cut your legs at the knees and you screamed in agony, falling to the floor at his feet.

"Stand up" he commanded, slamming his foot into your side. The momentum made your body roll away, until you settled back on the ground, face deep in the rubble. Your muscles pulled you to your feet with ease, but the pain coursing through you was immense, nowhere near close to what you thought bearable. You felt the skin being ripped from your body and when you looked down, your clothes were torn, soaked in blood, but your skin was intact. It was what you needed to keep going - to get inside your head the fact that you were fine, because at this point, the pain was one bruise away from making you faint.

"Bucky, please-" you cried.

"Stop calling me Bucky!" he yelled, starting to approach you again.

With every step he took, you slowly backed away. "Please, listen to me, just a second, please!"

He shook his head no, a demented smile on his lips as he closed in on you.

"Bucky-"

As a reply to your question, his fist flew up, slamming into your jaw, hard enough to throw you to the ground, "Why do you keep calling me-"

"What else do you want me to call you, huh?" you yelled at him, vision blurred under too many layers of tears. "Tell me, and I'll do it if it'll get you to listen to me."

"I don't want you to call me anything-" he cocked his head to the side, unstrapping a handgun from his thigh. He loaded it as you barely managed to crawl away, "You can take the pain. I respect that. Let's see how well you do with these lead bullets"

You saw them in slow motion, barely managing to duck your head behind the remains of what once was a heavy wooden bookshelf. The bullets missed your chest and face, but you saw them, felt them penetrate your skin, ripping through your muscles.

The sound of your tissues being pulled to shreds made you feel sick to your stomach. As the bullets left your body, your wounds closed back up, leaving you a crying mess on the floor. Your throat constricted due to the wave of shock that hit your body, and your lungs started hyperventilating. Lightheaded and gasping for air, you struggled to crawl away from him, tears marching down your face and ending up on the floor, nothing but diluting the droplets of blood that had fallen from your body mere minutes before. Your heart was in overdrive and your vision blurred as every fiber of your being threatened to let you down. "Please-" you screamed, your voice breaking as you raised your hand for him, "Let's talk, please. That's all I want. Give me a minute"

But he didn't. He didn't even consider it. Instead, the force that controlled the body of the only man that ever managed to make you feel safe, tortured, destroyed and consumed your body for what felt like the better part of an eternity.

You had been thrown through walls, shattered windows, had glass shards lodged into your body from all angles. He unloaded cannon after cannon on you, used up all the ammo he had on him, only growing more and more annoyed when you refused to give up.

There was no way to know how much time had passed. Now you were standing by the window, inches away from the spot where two nights ago, you and Bucky clicked your glasses, smiling at how far you both had come. He laughed, saying he wouldn't have made it without you. And then he kissed you, confessing that the thought that maybe you couldn't have made it without him either, was what kept him going.

And then there you were. 48 hours later, again, just the two of you. But now there weren't any champagne glasses between you, just his metal arm, wrapped around your neck, this time, as he said, for the last time.

"I don't get it-" he scowled, teeth gritted and frustration in his voice, "Why don't you fight me?"

"I can't fight you" you whimpered as your tears poured down against his cold hand, "And even if I could, I wouldn't."

"WHY?" Bucky screamed, and for a second, you thought you saw a crack there, a glister of emotion hidden deep in his otherwise beautiful eyes.

"Because I love you" you cried.

But there was none. He rolled his eyes and pushed you back, your body slamming into the window. You should've thought faster, been more witty and considerate, but terror washed over you and in the heat of the moment, you grabbed onto him for dear life, pulling him down with you, plummeting to the ground from what looked like the 70th floor of the Stark Tower.

If until now you had been afraid of what you'd have to endure, it was now that you met true terror. You'd survive the fall, but he wouldn't.

Even in the air, approaching the ground at a dangerous speed, he kept fighting you. Even in this state, you admired his determination - he had a job and wanted to get it done - even if that job was killing you. A man of his word.

By now, the pain was unnoticeable. If you wanted to keep him alive you had to act fast. Clinging to his body despite his vicious protests and ruthless blows, you used your momentum to turn the two of you around. And you did so at the last second, as before you knew it, your bodies crashed into the boulevard below, sinking down into the asphalt as it crumpled under your weight.

The impact cut your breath away and there was a gnawing feeling all over your body, as if you had blades under your skin, pulling your body apart fiber by fiber. But you snapped out of it.

"Bucky!" you yelled, slapping his cheek.

He had fallen completely on top of you, his head pressed against your chest. He didn't move and the continuous buzz in your ears made it physically impossible for you to tell whether he was breathing for not.

"Bucky, please-" you cried, trying to move him so you could see his face.

Nothing.

"No, no, no!!" you screamed, "You can't die, baby, please! Not like this, love. Please come back to me, Buck, I'm begging you!!"

You remained there and wailed, with him glued to your chest. Your arms had wrapped around his motionless frame, keeping him as close as you could. Nothing could have gotten you to stop. Tens of people gathered around the crater your fall created around your bodies, police showed up, cameras were pointed at your faces, but you didn't care. If he died, so would you.

"You're all I have, baby-" you muttered, voice hoarse and dry from all the wailing and crying, "Please, you can't leave me. This can't be the end of us. Please, I don't know what to do, Bucky, please!"

You were soaked. In blood, and you didn't even know whether it was his or yours. God, how you hoped it all belonged to you, how the pool of blood you laid in was all yours. Tears soaked your face, pouring down your temples as your whole frame shook with your sobs, that was the true agony. You'd rather spend the rest of your days fighting for your life if it meant he got to see the sun again. You wished he'd hate you, rather than not feel anything at all ever again.

"Please-" you said again but this time your voice didn't even reach your own ears, you didn't hold that power anymore, "Please, you need to come back! You deserve so much better than this. You're the best man I have even known, you can't die like this, not today, Bucky. Not today!"

By now, the people around you had scattered. They knew your identities and for all the wrong reasons, feared you both. You were grateful for that now, you were alone with him again, as the sun began to set and a chilly New York night began to settle.

Still, you didn't move. You still had faith. Or you were just stubborn. There was no way you'd pull away until someone either pried him off of you against your will, or someone that you trusted showed up promising they'd help.

None of them came, and you remained there, cradling his frame to your chest begging whatever God was listening, to bring him back. You didn't know if one of them heard you, or if it was just blind luck or fate, but you only realised his metal arm was lodged under your body when he moved it.

"Buck!" you cried, cupping his cheeks in your bloodied palms as literal life cursed through your veins. "Oh god, you're ok, you're alive!! You came back to me!"

You managed to hug him close one more time, before he pushed himself off of you. In the process of standing up, his eyes met yours for the briefest second. Again, nothing.

He gathered himself to his feet, wordlessly bending down to grab your hair. He forced you up and you instantly obliged, following him back into the building.

Once inside, he knocked you through a glass door, your body once again absorbing his fury. The pain had dissipated into a dull ache, and this time, you stood up faster. "I can do this all day" you sighed, the lie slipping past your lips with such ease, as if the energy inside your core wasn't running dangerously low.

"What did you just say?" he questioned.

He seemed taken aback, "I said that I can do this all day"

"Who are you?" Bucky yelled, marching towards you, determined to get answers out of you through nothing else but brute force. He slammed you back onto the floor, only to straddle your thighs and pick you up by the collar of your shit. "Why won't you just fucking die!?"

Circling your fingers around his wrists, you searched for his eyes, "Wanna know what keeps me alive?"

"Are you stupid enough to tell me?"

"I might be" you shook your head, "but I'll still tell you"

"Why?"

"Because I know you won't kill me" you cried, "I know you know me. I know you're in there somewhere. The man I love. I know you don't have it in you to kill me"

"Try me" he laughed, drunk with the power you were so willing to give him.

"These-" you panted, raising your arms in the air to show him your cuffs, "These are what's been keeping me alive but I know you won't-"

But you never finished the sentence. He didn't even think twice before ripping them off your arms and throwing them onto the floor, along with all the other mess you two had made.

You never thought he'd actually spare you. So it wasn't a surprise when the first thing he did after freeing you, was reach for his knife with the sole purpose of driving it through your chest.

But you were faster. You framed his face into your palms, releasing the energy from your body and allowing it to flow through his. It felt weird, wrong and chaotic, and the power surge wiggled itself out of your control, until a blast between your bodies sent you both flying back across the room, falling down onto the floor.

And this time none of you stood up.

"I leave them alone for what, a day?" Tony sighed, walking out of his Iron Man suit.

"Holy shit!" Steve cried out, his knees betraying him as he tried to rush to you.

"No, wait!" Nat stopped him, "You can't wake them up until we get them somewhere safe. We need to make new cuffs for Y/n, and find a way to keep Bucky contained in case, you know… he's still not Bucky"

Steve was fuming with anger, nostrils flaring, "These are my friends you're talking about!" he exclaimed, pointing to your bodies on the floor, "Your friends too, Nat. You see them like this and the first thing you think about is restraining them!?"

"We need to make sure we're all safe" she sighed with sympathy, grabbing his hand for a comforting rub.

"You make sure you're safe-" Steve scoffed, "I'll make sure they're alive"

"Hey-" Nat stopped him, "If you touch her and startle her in any way, you die!"

Her words hurt him but he knew you never would. Steve felt his heart shutter just imaging what you must have gone through. He was ablaze with pure determination to prove Nat wrong, and to do right by you and Buck. "I carried her in my arms while she was passed out when we rescued her from that facility-" he fummed, pointing at you, "She never knew a man that didn't try to hurt her before. And when she woke up, she was afraid. Scared for her life. She cried in my arms and begged me to not let them take her again! She was never anywhere close to hurting me! She's good. So good. There's only good inside of her, I trust her to not hurt me more than I trust myself, ok? If I'm wrong, so be it. I die. I don't care. She deserves someone to look after her. If I had to chose, saving her would be the way I'd want to go"

His rant left Nat speechless. She just gave him a simple nod and stepped back.

Carefully, he picked you up and carried you upstairs, as Tony put his suit back on and carried Bucky.

Never in your life had you woken up this fast. Your eyes snapped open and you sprung to your feet. 3 pairs of anxious eyes watched you, all of them ready to jump into action in case the situation called for an intervention.

"What-" you gawked, scanning the room, "Where is Bucky? Is he- is-"

"He's fine, Y/n" Steve assured you. He stood up and slowly approached you, arms outstretched. Your first instinct was to go for it, but when you reached him, you placed both your hands in his, and looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Are you sure?" you whimpered, "Can I see him?"

Sympathy took over his features, but Tony jumped in, "Absolutely not"

"What-" you turned to him, "Why? Did I-?"

"You didn't do anything wrong" Steve hummed, engulfing you in a hug even though you remained stiff in your spot. He rubbed your back, eager to soothe your worried mind, but you were too out of it.

“Can I just go?” you whispered, pulling back just enough so that he could see how serious you were, “I need to see him, please”

“Are you mad at him?” Nat asked with caution and your face fell.

“No!” you gasped, stepping away from Steve’s embrace, “No, not even one bit. I know that was not him, I know it’s not his fault. But when Bucky wakes up-”

“If he wakes up-” Tony sneered, roaming around the room. He nursed a glass of whiskey, as a mixture of disgust and exhaustion was readable on his features.

“When he wakes up!” you spoke through gritted teeth. Determination coated your words and the hairs on your body stood as you refused to even think of the alternative. “He will wake up. And I have to be there”

“What if the Winter Soldier wakes up?” Nat asked.

“That didn’t stop me last time”

“Oh, no!” Tony butted in, stepping in between you and Nat, arms outstretched, “You know I’m not one to cry after money, but you and your pal left me with $37 million worth of damage. You two are one broken cup away from getting thrown into the streets”

The sum he mentioned made the skin on your back crawl. You didn’t even have $37 dollars to your name, but it made sense. Your body alone crashed through three TV’s, one gamma ray projector and if you thought about it, you remembered Bucky pulling apart one of the Iron Legion robots, and only the thought made you flinch.

“So-” Tony said, “You two? Never in the same room again!”

“Take these off then” you suggested, pointing at the cuff on your wrists.

“Ha” Tony exclaimed, “A big chunk of that money comes from you frying all my electronics up until the 12th floor. Absolutely not”

“Tony, I’m serious” you whined, “He will hate himself. I need to be there! I need to make sure he doesn’t take all the blame on his shoulders”

He frowned, and sighed. He wasn’t an unreasonable man, and you hoped that core deep inside his chest really made up for a heart. And… it did. None of them were happy about it, but they finally accepted. Nat and Tony would have never probably given up if it wasn’t for Steve - right now, like so many times before, he really did seem like your guardian angel.

They ended up monitoring the room, and Tony waited for your signal, one hand on his cigarette, the other on the Iron Man suit. He was all talk - if anything was to go down and you would actually be in danger again, he wouldn’t even think twice before tearing his towers into pieces if it meant he could get you out alive.

And so you left, thanked them in the form of a simple nod, and headed down the dark hallways.

Oh, how you hated this.

What consumed you now had nothing to do with the pain you had endured in the past 24 hours. Its source was not physical, yet your whole body ached. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders - and in some way, it was - Bucky was your whole world, and the fear of losing him breathed down your neck.

It had been about 20 minutes since you stopped in front of the door that led to the room he'd been confined in. When FRIDAY announced that Bucky woke up, you rushed over, only for a hazardous sense of anguish to stop you dead in your tracks. Judging by the way he sat in the corner of the room, his fingers aimlessly tracing every indentation in the handcuffs Tony had restrained him with, you had no problem telling which one of him woke up. He broke your heart. His room was equipped with 5 different cameras and 2 microphones. Completely unaware of them, he sat inches away from one, and your heart shattered, sinking 3 stories below when you heard him whimper.

It was soft and quiet. His whole frame shook as he wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. He was hunched down, brown hair covering his perfect face, but still, his sadness brought you to tears.

You heard him again. He sniffled as he laid back against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot, lips almost white and dry as his chest raced up and down. His muscles clenched and his feet bounced against the metal floor, it was a sight you never wished you see ever again.

Softly, you raised a hand, and thought twice before finally knocking.

"Go away," Bucky called, voice all hoarse and dry as it broke halfway through.

You were able to see him on the small screen next to the door, but he had no idea who came to visit.

Out of instinct, you knocked again before typing in the password and ever so slowly walking inside.

Instantly, he looked up. He was surrounded by an air of darkness and despair, ever so obviously tormented to the peak of his capability.

He stared at you for a few seconds as his eyes watered, and then he gathered his lips into a straight line, shaking his head. "Please, go"

"Bucky, I-"

"Please" he cried, head falling forward as he toyed with the metal edges of his prosthetic arm. He shook his head, "Please, don't do this. Just, go"

You took a deep breath, only then entering the room far enough to actually be able to close the door behind you. Slowly turning back to him, your palms sweated as you had no idea what to say to him.

"Can you talk to me, Buck? Please?"

He chuckled, "About what?"

"About whatever it is you think you did wrong, I-"

As he heard your words, his hands instantly flew up to cover his face. He was, however, stopped, as the cuffs on his left wrist kept him from moving too much. While a new row of tears flooded his cheeks, his eyes met yours, "Look at me.. I need to be restrained while you're alone with me"

"Those cuffs would literally do nothing to stop you from escaping, and you know it"

"Maybe it's just a sense of reassurance"

"To who?" you scoffed.

"To them" Bucky responded, nodding his head towards one of the cameras. "I'm a monster" he added, wiggling his cuff restrained hand, "I'm a danger to everyone"

"Oh for fucks sake" you rolled your eyes, marching up to him. With absolutely no remorse, you grabbed his hand and harshly pulled apart the metal that had him restrained to the bed. Before he got a chance to say anything, you bent down, unclipped the microphone from the foot of the bed, threw it on the floor, and stepped on it, until it was nothing but a small pile of shattered plastic.

And you kept going, destroying the second microphone along with the 5 cameras on the walls as Bucky watched you with surprise. You finished by going for the door and locking it from the inside. "You think I'm afraid of you?" you asked softly, "For 6 hours you did your best to kill me and failed miserably. Look at me, I'm unscathed"

"Did you hear yourself?" he cringed, shaking his head, "I tried to kill you"

"Ok, I know I said that you did your best-" you said, mentally scolding yourself for the error in communication. "We both know that wasn't you. That wasn't you, Buck. It was Hydra. It was the winter soldier, not you. My Bucky would never-"

"Y/n-" he stopped you, "I know you don't see things the way I do-"

"But I see them the right way"

"Listen-" Bucky sighed, driving his hands through his hair. For the first time that night you actually saw his full face, his cheek and signature scowl, his blue eyes and the tilt of the corner of his mouth - your soul melted when you associated the picture with the words that came out of his mouth. "I can't blame you for being here. I can't. If the roles were reversed, I'd be doing the exact same thing. But, holy fuck-" he sighed, pausing to gather his thoughts. Bucky looked you up and down. His lips quivered and his head fell to the side as a sad smile appeared on his lips. "Remember this morning? How we talked about our hypothetical child?" he laughed and shook his head, "Even if I know we could never have a kid because we're both sterile, it was still the most beautiful thought that ever crossed my mind, Y/n''

"Mine too, Buck-"

"And what did I do?" he dismissed your empathy, "Two hours later I was unloading an AK-47 into your stomach, like the brainwashed maniac that I am!"

"Don’t say that!" you exclaimed, "Don't you dare think about things like this!"

"Why wouldn't I?" he threw his hands up in the air, "What does it matter whose fault it is? I get to live with the consequences."

"But-" you breathed out, "We can work through this. You did it before. You can't let something that hydra did dictate your life, Bucky. You deserve so much better. You deserve to be happy!"

"I tried to kill you!" he screamed, for the first time losing his calm and standing up to be at the same level as you.

"That was not you!"

"So what?" he huffed, "I was there, Y/n! I will never, NEVER get the feeling of crushing your bones out of my head! I felt your neck snap! I choked you with my arms! That is not something I can live with! I can't live a life by your side if every time I look at you I'm reminded of those horrible things I did to you!"

"Buck-" you cried, looking at him from behind too many layers of unshed tears, "Please, don't say that"

"I'm sorry" he responded in the same fashion, his pain coating every word he said. "When I close my eyes I see you laying in a puddle of blood. I can't stop hearing your screams of agony. Agony that no matter how you put it, was caused by my hands. That's not something we can live with, Y/n. You were not made for this. You really do fucking deserve someone that won't wake up one day and try to murder you in cold blood"

"And what do you deserve, Buck?" you quietly asked, searching for his eyes, "To live your life alone? Forever? If you had been with anyone else, this would have turned out so much worse. That cute barista three blocks down that always scribbles a heart on your coffee cup? She's cute, yeah. You deserve to be loved by someone, but if that someone was her, you wouldn't be drowning in guilt right now, Bucky, you'd be mourning her. Yes, you got troubles. Yes, you've got a past more fucked up than anyone else I have ever heard about. That's the kind of shit you can't change. But whatever you do from now on, is in your fucking hands and yours alone. Don't try to tell me you're not worthy of having someone, because that's the fattest load of crap I've ever heard. You're a good man! With a fucked up past! And a dark side that you need to fight! And you have me! I don't care you dropped Tony's piano on my legs, apparently I can take it! I'm here for you no matter what! You don't want to be with me anymore? Fine. But don't you dare push me away, thinking that a ruined future makes up for a ruined past"

"Who's to say I won't try it again?" he asked, "I don't know what triggered the transition. But what if once a week I end up trying to kill you-"

"Apparently you can't!" you laughed bitterly.

"Ok, so I can't" he nodded in approval, "Is that what you want? I should be your rock, your best friend, I should always be there for you. Do you want to have your whole world turned upside down whenever my brain decides to go berserk?"

"See, Buck" you sighed, "Of course I don't want that. I can't fucking stand here and tell you that I do. What kind of credibility would I have then? But you know what I want? You. You and whatever nazi shit that comes along. I want you. To help you. To have you with me. To see you everyday. If every Saturday at 10am you decide you want to kill me, you best believe I'm sacrificing my morning coffee just so we can kung fu around the living room"

He looked at you for a long second, the corners of his lips fighting a hard battle against the hint of a smile that started to show on his features. Eventually he caved and chuckled, shaking his head, "That was a bit funny"

"And fucking true," you cried, going for his hands and bringing them up to your chest. He winced, but you spoke up again, determined to not let his mind torture him.

"I love you, Bucky"

"How do you not hate me?" he choked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Can you seriously look at me and not get even the slightest instinct to run away?"

"Bucky..." you breathed out, cupping his cheek. "How could I run away when I've never seen you in more pain than right now?"

"You're an angel, you know that?"

"I've been called a lot of things" you giggled, "Angel isn't one of them, but if that's what you want, I'll take it"

"Come here" he whispered, wrapping his arms around your frame. He had you nuzzle against his chest, his hold keeping you tight and secure. His heart beat against your cheek and your eyes watered again. There wasn't one thing in the world you wouldn't do for that heart - to make sure it keeps beating, and that it keeps the man you love alive. And content, above all. All you wanted right now was for him to accept the things that happened. You wanted to take whatever weight he was carrying on his shoulders, and put it upon yourself. "I love you so much, Bucky" you cried against his chest as your hold tightened around him, "I hate to see you torn like this. I don't want anything to ever happen to you. It terrifies me. I love you with all that I am. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. You deserve the world, baby"

"So do you" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You felt his chest shake, a deep rumble echoed from the depths of his lungs. You looked up to see him fight back a sob, his eyes wide open, glossy and red, trained down on you, "I love you too much to do this, Y/n. I'm sorry, I don't think I can"

"No!" you gasped, pressing your face back against his shoulder, "Don't do that. You can't do that. No"

"We won't work, Y/n" Bucky said as he brought you even closer, "I can't look at you anymore. I can't look at you without dying inside. You don't want to live with me like that"

"Yes, I do!" you sobbed. "I'll work with anything you give me, I swear there is nothing more I want. Just you. Just you and me. Bucky, please don't do this"

He held you close for what felt like half a second, but rationally speaking, your legs were getting numb. You just stood there, clinging to his body, taking in his scent and listening to his breathing even out until he pushed you away. Oh, how you didn't want to let go. Ever. But you did, and choked back a sob as soon as you felt the cold air of the room brush against the part of your body that had been pressed to his.

"We should get some sleep, Y/n"

"Are you coming with me?" you whimpered, afraid of the answer he might give you.

Bucky shook his head, "I think I'll just sleep here tonight"

That broke you. The shock and terror cut your breath away. It felt impossible - the feeling of losing him. The amount of pain that surged through you. At that particular moment, you felt like cracking your chest open to grip your heart into your hand and pick apart the broken parts. But not even that felt good enough, you were fairly sure you'd be left with nothing. It felt like a slap across your cheek, like a cloth had been placed over your mouth and your legs cut at the knees. It felt like the end.

Optimistic by nature, not even you could deny the reason he wanted to sleep alone. It was clear as day.

"If-" you mumbled, tears coating your face at their own free will, voice shaking as you barely managed to articulate the words over the violent sobs that ripped their way out of your throat. "If I promise to not do anything to try and convince you to stay… can you promise me that in case you decide to leave, you'll come and tell me first?"

"Oh, doll" Bucky broke down all over again, throwing himself at you again. He collapsed on top of you, molding his body around yours. "I promise, angel"

You just nodded. That was all you could do. It took another few moments for you to gather yourself and stop wailing, but you did, and then, with nothing else other than a sad smile, you left.

Your feet carried you to your room, and you were ready to collapse on top of your bed. Eager to cuddle into his pillows. They smelled like that shower gel you got him and you hated it. You wanted his scent. Not even caring how ridiculous it sounded, you padded over to the chair in the corner of your bedroom, the one Bucky uses to discard all his worn clothes.

You wanted to find a shirt he wore, one that smelled exactly like you knew him, but before you reached the clothes pile, your attention was drawn to the window.

Steve was standing there, facing the busy streets outside, hands in his pocket and his head turned in your direction.

"I didn't see you, sorry" you gasped, as your eyes accommodated to the darkness.

"It's fine" he shook his head, "I just figured you'd turn on the lights, you know, like the normal people. Didn't think I'd scare you"

"Yeah, sorry" you sighed, plopping down on the edge of the bed. "I did even think about turning the lights on"

He didn't say anything, but you saw him nod. He knew your pain. He lost enough in his life, and seeing his best friend sink back into his darkness was surely not easy for him either.

"Is he ok?" Steve eventually asked.

You shook your head, "He's too good of a man to be ok"

"That is Bucky" he laughed, and you couldn't help but do the same. The irony.

Steve's curiosity was palpable in the room. Words could not describe the appreciation you had for him for respecting your boundaries and not pushing you in a moment like this. But he deserved to know.

You opened your mouth to explain to him what happened, but as your mind processed everything all over again, you broke down. "I think he's gonna leave-" you cried.

Steve was quick to gather you in his arms, engulfing you in a bear hug, helping you stand on your own two feet. "What do you mean?" he asked, concern tracing his tone.

"I understand him, I do. And I promised I won't try to get him to stay if he doesn't want to. But- but I should've done more, Steve. I should've shown him somehow how much I love him. But I'm afraid he'll leave, and I don't want to live-"

"Hey, hey, hey" Steve hurried to stop you, petting your head softly before urging you to look up at him. "Bucky loves you more than I ever thought possible, ok? There's no question about it. I'm sorry I'm doing this, but I think he'll postpone it anyway"

"What?"

"The man wants to marry you, ok?" Steve smiled, "He asked Tony if he had any work for him so he could raise money. Can you imagine how that went down? He was red like a tomato, but he didn't think twice. James Barnes used the computer to look for rings for you. The Bucky I know? Never would've done this. You brought to life a part of him that no one else has seen before. He loves you. With all that he is. And trust me when I tell you, he won't stand to be away from you. You're his whole world, Y/n. He's my best friend, trust me when I tell you this is something you'll work through. I'll help, we'll all help. You're not gonna lose him, Y/n. He's so beat up about all of this because he loves you this much. He's all yours. If he decides to leave, I need you to be strong because he will be back. I got him back 70 years later. You just need to trust him. Trust his heart, ok?"

"Oh my god" you cried, "I don't know what to say"

"Don’t say anything" he chuckled, "We've been through so much together. All of us. Even if we try, nothing pulls us apart, ok? How many times has Loki died, hm?"

"God, Steve!" you scoffed somewhat amused and pulled back just to hit him, "Did you seriously compare Bucky to Loki!?"

"It got you to smile, didn't it?" he laughed. "But I'm serious. You've both been through so much worse than this. You'll get through this one too. And in case you ever feel like you won't, I'm here, ok?"

"Ok…"

Funny as it all was, it worked. He calmed you down - to some extent. Gave you hope you didn't know existed. If it wasn't for Steve, you probably would have not been able to fall asleep. And even though dreams didn't visit you, and you never relaxed enough to actually get some rest, you just dozed off. All clothed and curled diagonally on the bed, you cuddled Bucky's pillow to your chest as your eyes slowly fell closed.

When you opened them again, it was still dark out. You had no idea what pulled you awake as you struggled to sit up on the bed, but then you heard Bucky's voice again, from the doorway.

"Y/n?"

“Buck?” you gasped, turning around. Only his silhouette was visible, head hung low and hands deep in his pockets. He was leaning against the doorway, silently awaiting your response.

Right then and there, you felt your world collapse. Steve’s monologue made you actually fucking believe things would be fine, but here he was, keeping his promise. In the buttcrack of night, he kept his word, bidding you a much feared farewell.

“Is-” you sobbed, jumping out of bed and rushing towards him. You almost knocked him off of his feet when you flung yourself at him, but he was quick to reciprocate, caging you between his arms. “Is this it? You’re leaving?”

He didn’t say anything which frankly made everything worse. You broke down even further, clinging to his shirt as if it was the only source of oxygen keeping you alive - it sure felt like it.

“Look at me” Bucky urged you, tilting your chin up, “Please?”

You slowly lifted your head, your eyes meeting his.

“I’m sorry, I will make it up to you” he whispered, a frown settling above his tired eyes, “You’ll see”

“What does that even mean?" you questioned, tired and sick of this ongoing conflict that should not even have been an issue to begin with. "You don't have to make up for anything"

"I know you see things like that" he cooed, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. He spoke softly, his breath fanning against your skin, somehow, even in this situation, managing to calm you down. "But you can understand me too, right?"

"I don't want to" you shrugged, "I don't care. Why does it matter if I understand you or not if you're gonna leave anyway?"

"I'm not leaving, doll"

"What!?" you beamed, pulling away from his hold and grabbing his face in your palms, "You're not- but you're-"

His whole frame softened, "I'm not here to say goodbye, Y/n. I'm not going anywhere"

"Oh god" you gasped.

"Come on, come here" Bucky chuckled softly, bringing you back into his hold, "I'm staying here. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. You're the most badass woman I know and I managed to break you"

"I love you, Buck"

"I love you more, Y/n" he sighed, "I'll make everything right, I promise"

"Oh, fuck" you breathed out relieved, "Just do whatever you want, I don't care. You're here. That's all that matters."

"And we also need to teach you to fight-" he added, "For real. And find a way for you to take those goddamn shackles off in case this happens again"

"Tony won't be too happy about it" you laughed.

"Fuck if I care-" Bucky said strenly, pointing at you, "Next time, you need to be able to stop me. And fast"

"Maybe it won't happen again"

"Maybe not" Bucky nodded, "But if it does, we need to be ready"

"Thank you" you said, "I know I didn't play this right. I know I literally dismissed everything that you must have gone through today. I'm sorry"

"You don't get to be sorry" Bucky stopped you, "Not after-"

"Then you don't get to, either!"

"Meh" he shrugged, "We'll see"

"Bucky!"

"I love you" he laughed, bending down to pick you up. He planted his hands on the back of your thighs, picking you up with ease and walking you over to the bed. You plopped back against the fluffy mattress with a huff, and giggled as he crawled his way on top of you. Instantly, his lips met yours. It was exhilarating, the kind that made your chest ache. You moaned against his lips as love transpired through his touch. It was overwhelming and the first happy tears of the day streamed down your temples as you arched yourself against him.

"I'm so weak for you, fuck" Bucky groaned, his right arm reaching around your back and pressing you against his chest. "You're everything" he added as he kissed his way along your neck, "I'm all yours forever, Y/n. I love you too much"

"I'm here, baby" you moaned, hiding your face into his shoulder, "You're mine, Bucky. All mine."

His lips didn't leave your body as he pushed himself up just enough to be able to reach the buckle of his jeans. The sound made your core ache, and your mouth watered.

There was no patience in his movements. He barely pulled his jeans down to his knees before ridding you of your pajama pants. He lodged himself between your thighs, his mouth instantly back on yours again.

"Come on" you panted, steading your arms against his strong back. Your legs found their way around his frame, ready to pull him closer.

When Bucky guided his hands between your bodies to align the tip of his cock with your opening, you whimpered in anticipation. Agonisingly slow, he trailed his tip along your folds before reaching your clit. With a blissful moan, he reached further up, tapping his cock against your bare cunt a couple of times before returning his attention back to you.

"I got you, baby" he hummed, pecking your lips. "You ready? Is this ok?"

With eagerness, you nodded and wiggled under his weight, your pussy aching for him. "Yes, yes"

When you felt his cock push past your folds, you moaned out loud, your voice cracking with the pure pleasure that took over your being.

He eased himself in, going all the way until he all but knocked the breath out of you, and he stopped. Bucky reached down to kiss you again, his cock motionless, balls deep inside of you.

He bit down on your lip and you giggled.

"Felt your pussy clench around me, doll" he laughed, "You're good to me"

"You may be all mine, Buck, but I'm all yours too"

"Holy shit" he panted, shaking his head in disbelief. It was as if you weren't real. He'd have pinched himself, but if this was a dream, he really did not want to wake up. So he kept going.

Nibbling at the skin of your neck, he started to pull himself out of you. The slow pace was driving you insane. Your need grew so strong you felt everything. His breath, the way his hair tickled your chin, his strong around around your shoulders, his massive thighs rubbing against yours, every small vein along his cock that drove you closer and closer to the sweetest bliss you had ever known.

He got you all worked up at an agonisingly slow pace, before his thrusts became more and more aggravated. You moaned with each thrust despite your struggles to keep quiet.

"You know how much I love hearing you, doll" Bucky shook his head as he drove himself back inside of you all the way, "Moan for me"

"Fuck, ok" you gasped, and closed your eyes as you started to fall apart. You gripped the bed sheets into your hands and pulled as he kept fucking you, deep and hard.

"You're so good, baby" he groaned, "So, so good for me"

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, fervently sucking deep, maroon marks all ice your skin. Gutural grounds betrayed his air of self control as a plethora of curse words escaped his lips. "Taking me so fucking well. I can't keep going like this, you're too fucking tight-"

"Cum, baby" you encouraged, voice low and tender as you spoke against his ear, "Cum for me"

"Don’t have to tell me twice" he chuckled.

His thrusts started to become sloppy and irregular, as his eyes flew closed. You missed the blue of his eyes, but his mouth was slightly agape as he panted his way to an orgasm.

His chest heaved against yours, "How do you feel so fucking good?" Bucky cursed, eyes still closed as he barely managed to mumble his words between the numerous grunts of pleasure that forced their way out of his throat.

You gave him no answer, instead just clung to him tighter, "Fuck, Bucky, I'm close-"

"Come on" he encouraged, hurrying to rub your clit. His fingers found your bud in an instant, working experienced, familiar circles that almost drove you over the edge. "Cum with me, ok?"

You nodded, gathering your lips between your teeth. He kept fucking you, harder and faster until he had turn limp under his weight. You came as his name rolled off your lips, and he followed seconds after, pumping his juices deep inside your pussy.

You felt his absolute pleasure as he breathed heavily against your shoulder. He kept going until you were both spent, and then fell down beside you.

"Bucky-" you whined, turning over and curling into his side, the lack of contact making you more needy than ever.

"Yes, darling?" he panted, tapping your chin.

"Nothing. I just love you"

"Love you too, doll" he huffed, spinning you around so you laid on your back.

He effortlessly helped you out of your shirt and plopped down on top of you, his head resting on your bare chest. His warm, right hand cupped your breast as he closed his eyes. He wrapped himself around you, "Hold me" he muttered, "please"

"Always, Bucky" you said, engulfing him in the tightest hold you could muster. Only then did you feel him calm down completely, and there was nothing in the world you could ever ask for.

If you liked it, please reblog and tell me what you thought? :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan smut

541 notes · View notes

castthy-nightedcolour · 3 years

Text

One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse

Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they aren’t they

Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.

Word Count: 2778

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182

If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:

-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.

-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasn’t for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You weren’t usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.

-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the world’s slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snail’s pace. You weren’t getting anywhere quick.

All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.

Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.

The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious ‘WAHEYYYY’ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.

‘Y/N? Is that you?’

You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.

You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as ‘are they? Aren’t they?’

You sure as hell couldn’t tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.

He’d told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.

Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.

In the state you were currently in, you couldn’t decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.

Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.

‘Don’t tell me someone’s upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/N’ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.

‘No, no. Not upset. I swear. Just… pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, y’see.’

‘Oh. Well, I know all about that. I’m quick to anger at any given moment but then again, ‘s in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?’

You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someone’s puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.

‘It was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.’

Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.

‘Ooookay. Well, I won’t ask for details but, here.’ He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you weren’t in a fit state for rational thinking.

‘Thank you,’ you breathed out. ‘I’m all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.’ You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.

‘What you got there? Looks interesting.’ He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.

‘Oh, mouse traps. There’s a little shit thinking that he owns my flat who’s probably currently in my bread bin. Thought I’d stop the problem while I could, considering there’s that saying about seeing mice. Y’know, for every mouse you see, there’s always another one somewhere. Can’t wait to clean that up!’ Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.

‘Woah. You really are pissed, aren’t you?’ Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.

‘Yes. Yes, actually I am. Because y’know what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely don’t think that I’ve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I can’t relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like I’ve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, I’m fuming.’ You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.

The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.

‘Can I give you a lift?’

—

After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.

You’d calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that you’d had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that he’d even offered you a lift. This wasn’t helped when you heard him say,

‘Let me walk you upstairs. Check that you’re okay.’

You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.

‘Woah woah there, calm down. It’s just a little mouse, we’ll sort this,’ Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.

‘Look Y/N, I’m going to do something here which I don’t do very often, and all I’m asking is that you don’t freak out,’ the demon announced.

You couldn’t help but make a sarcastic joke.

‘What’s that then, the housework?’ Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.

‘Fine, you don’t need my help!’ He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldn’t help but tease him back into good spirits.

‘No no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?’

‘Snake.’

You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.

‘A… a snake? You have a snake?’

‘Yes. Well, no. Well… yes. Look it’s complicated, can I just show you?’

Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.

You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.

‘How fucking many are there now?!’ You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

‘Look Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?’

‘Of mice? I think that’s pretty evident Crow-‘

‘No, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?’

‘What is it with you and these snakes?’ You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.

‘Stay still. Don’t freak out please. I promise this will help.’

Before you knew it, Crowley’s hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.

What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.

Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didn’t take long, considering the snake’s body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.

You’d never really considered Crowley’s powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didn’t control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.

But it was so, so beautiful.

Moving.

And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.

Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.

Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowley’s sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.

There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.

The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before you’d even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.

You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and … ahem… was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.

‘Consider those rodents dispatched.’

The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.

You’d just witnessed something- something that couldn’t exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?

Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.

There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.

‘Please tell me you didn’t eat those mice, Crowley?’ Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.

The demon scoffed, ‘I prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didn’t eat them. I can assure you though, they won’t be back any time soon.’

Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowley’s sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.

Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasn’t exactly thrilled by this.

‘Hey, don’t play games with those. They’re my-‘

He didn’t stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowley’s, but at least some of it came from your heart.

‘Do it again. Turn back.’

The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demon’s face.

‘Really? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.’

The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.

‘Not at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. It’s intrigue. I swear.’

You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.

And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...

Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadn’t continued to question you.

The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.

‘Can... may I? Can I touch?’ You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.

Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.

‘Crowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.’ You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.

Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snake’s head suddenly felt warm.

Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.

‘I didn’t even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.’

Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.

‘Crowley, are you blushing?’ You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.

This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.

And of course, he made you blush too.

A new side of Crowley. One that you couldn’t help but adore.

#good omens one shot #good omens #good omens x reader #crowley x reader #snake crowley #good omens fanfic #reader insert

60 notes · View notes

taechaos · 3 years

Note

I was thinking how would a day in the Family of the Jeons looking like? Could you make a drabble of it? Of course only if you want to :)

OOOOO OK OK OK I LOVE THAT

Jungkook hasn't cracked a single smile throughout the whole day. You tried comforting him before his ride back home for the majority of the spring break, but nothing can save his depression from being around his mother. There isn't one good memory that involves her presence in his life.

He was willing to stay in his dorm throughout the whole three weeks of vacation, but tough luck, there was a cockroach infestation a day prior to his holiday. Only his dorm. Fate has different plans for him, and he's not religious or anything, but Satan might just be lurking around him.

Your house isn't available because of your strict mother, his friends are leaving town and staying with Taehyung is arguably worse than temporarily living with his mother. At least he doesn't have to share a room with her.

The scowl on his face only deepens when he comes face to face with his first home. It's like ripping off a bandaid when he opens the door, unlocked as usual, before entering.

The living room greets him with crickets. Utter silence and empty with no one around. The walls are chipped, the couch is washed out and the hardwood flooring has scratches on them. He enters and makes the effort to not make a sound as to not summon his mother, but like clockwork, the moment he steps foot inside, she appears from the kitchen.

"Jungkook!" she gushes and tackles him into a bone crushing hug. Her eye makeup is smudged and her outfit is merely a black nightgown.

He knows her excitement will wear off soon enough; they're bound to argue in a matter of minutes about his "disrespectful behavior." She's unpredictable in that regard, but it's clear that absence makes the heart grow fonder.

He groans and yanks her arms away. His greeting is merely a question, "Is anyone else here?" He knows his mother like the back of his hand: incapable of being alone and constantly searching for her next soulmate. The only serious relationship he's had was with his father, who is basically missing.

"Only my boyfriend and his daughter." She leaves room for him to take off his shoes and throw his bag full of necessities on the floor. "She's really pretty by the way," she whispers.

"Not interested."

"Oh come on, you haven't even met her–"

"Babe?" A stranger with a gruff voice steps out of the master bedroom while fixing his bed hair. It's 2 PM and he looks like he just woke up.

"Good morning sweetie," his mother brightly grins at the man before introducing her son. "This is Jungkook, my boy I was telling you about. Kook, this is Jinyoung." She leans into him threateningly, "Be nice."

"How fucking old is he?" he whispers back, perplexed.

"Thirty-seven."

"Are you serious?" he groans and stands straight before picking up his bag. "Good luck," he plainly greets the man before walking off to his bedroom.

Upon opening the door, a young girl sitting on his bed with music blasting from her earphones enters his sight. She squeals when she looks up to see the intruder and yanks the buds out in panic.

"What the fuck? Mom!" he whirls around to find her in the kitchen again. "Why is there someone in my room?"

She doesn't look up from the stove where she's practically burning scrambled eggs and her calm tone contrasts his angry one. "That's Yeri, the girl I was telling you ab–"

"I don't give a fuck, why is she in my room?!" The chaos is already making his head hurt.

"She's been staying there for a while now."

Jungkook slaps a hand on his forehead and inhales until his lungs hurt. He stomps back to his room with a death glare. The girl hasn't moved an inch out of surprise and the music continues to come out of the earphones. "Get out. You're taking the couch."

"A-Are you Jungk–"

"Out."

She shoots out of the bed and scurries to the living room with a fearful expression. He sighs and kicks a stray bra lying on the floor out of his way before dropping his bag with a thud.

This sucks. He considers running off to Taehyung in a moment of desperation, but he hasn't reached the level to go through with it yet.

He starts unpacking and ignores his mother's announcement of breakfast. He collapses on his bed with a grunt and massages his temples, but even one second of peace is not an option in this household when his mother barges in to repeat her announcement.

"I'm not hungry," he spits.

"At least sit with me. I've missed you so much–"

"I'm tired."

"Stop being a brat and come."

She leaves no room for argument when she slams the door shut. "You're so annoying!" he shouts past the thin walls before smacking his head at how childish he sounds. Is this Hell?

He shoots you a quick message before trudging to the dining room.

♡ the love of my life ♡: kill me

He slumps down on the only idle chair next to Yeri and leans back without even glancing at the dish. He lost his appetite the second he came here.

No one's touched their food yet, presumably from waiting on Jungkook, and just as Jinyoung picks up the utensils, his daughter nervously chimes in, "Let's say grace!"

The couple is surprised by her words. "You're the one who always whines about it," her father states quizzically.

His mother scoffs playfully. "She wants to hold Jungkook's hand, sweetie," she nudges her boyfriend with her elbow.

Yeri blushes and looks down at her lap as Jungkook mutters exasperatedly, "Jesus fucking Christ..."

He crosses his arms when she meekly holds out a hand to him and her father, and his mother frowns upon the action.

"Jungkook," she drawls.

"I'm not fucking Christian!"

"Just hold her hand!"

"I don't want to!"

"When a girl is interested in you, you're expected to respond accordingly."

The other family in the table stare at them in bewilderment, thrown off by their bickering.

"Yeah, I'm responding with rejection."

"Get over this I-hate-girls phase already, you're twenty years old!"

"I have a girlfriend!"

"Oh please," she dismisses him with a flick of her wrist, "I'd love to meet her in your dreams."

"She's real," he growls with a snarl, "and she's certainly not a kid." He gives Yeri a pointed look.

"I'm seventeen!" Her father clears his throat uncomfortably.

A notification from his phone disrupts the conversation, and he checks it to escape this mentally draining interaction.

You: oh baby what's wrong:((

♡ the love of my life ♡: mom is breathing

"Who is it?"

He scoffs at his mother without looking up from the screen, "My girlfriend."

Yeri whines with a pout as his mother jumps from her seat to take a peek.

"What the hell are–"

She smacks the back of his head after reading his last text in a millisecond. "Mom is breathing? You brat! Who is this girl? Show me a picture," she gushes excitedly, completely forgetting her earlier attempt at matchmaking.

"None of your damn business," he hisses before he gets another notification. Him and his mother immediately look down at his phone.

You: i'm trying to make the best of staying with my mom >_< you should try as well!

♡ the love of my life ♡: with this woman?|

She coos as she snatches the phone out of his hand. "Hey!"

"She sounds so nice! Take her advice, you imbecile–"

"I'd rather die," he deadpans as he tries not to hurt her while reaching for his phone.

"Listen to me," she uses her authorative tone that has Jungkook pulling back with a frown. Old habits die hard, such as rebelling against his mother before she becomes genuinely intimidating. "You're stuck with me for a month. Don't make me turn this house into a living hell."

He resists the urge to say it already is.

————

Smoke swirls in the open air from the lit joint that hangs off Jungkook's lips. Finally, some peace and quiet in the balcony. He came prepared with a stash of cannabis for when things get too overwhelming in the house, and it's only the first day.

The sky is bland with no stars or clouds, a boring view of midnight black from the balcony where he leans against the railing. He enjoys watching the busy street instead, and he feels less shitty about his current living situation.

And yet his newfound happy daze fades too soon when the joint is snatched from his fingers. "Give it ba-" he pauses when he sees his mother taking a puff from his stick. He looks away lazily.

"Don't worry," she blows out the smoke, "I'm not here to scold you for smoking weed."

"I don't care."

"You're old enough anyway." She follows his line of sight and takes another drag. It's quiet for a minute until she asks, "You met her in college?"

"Yep."

"Truth be told, I can't imagine you asking out a girl when you're so spiteful. How did it happen?"

He can't believe he's having this conversation, or why he's responding without being so snarky. He chuckles instead. "I didn't really ask her out. She made a deal with me where she does my homework and I pretend to like her back or whatever."

She laughs quietly. "You used her feelings for you to your advantage? You take after your mother," she jokes.

"She offered," he shrugs with a smile, " and I was struggling with my courses. I chose law as my major when I was mad at you so I could sue you or something, but it's so fucking boring."

"Oh, how much you love your mother," she huffs with a giggle. "I deserved that. Being a single mother didn't exactly work out for me."

"You were no mother," he scoffs, "all you did was ignore me or insult me when you weren't introducing me to my next step-dad. Did you know that this is my first relationship?" he glances at her with a bitter lopsided grin. She turns to look back at him and passes the joint. He inhales the filter before continuing with a mouthful of smoke, "I didn't want to date anyone because I didn't want to turn out like you. I didn't want to have relationships that only last a week before moving onto another one. I can be alone."

"Let me guess, you didn't believe in love either," she mocks in a silly deep voice.

"Fuck off."

She sighs as a peaceful silence settles over them aside from the running engines. The truth hurt.

"Tell you what, son. You turned out a lot better than I did. My parents didn't exactly raise me either, only left me with more issues than I can bear." Jungkook listens intently without reacting. This is the only normal conversation he's ever had with his mother. "I have practically no redeeming qualities, and having sex is the only way I can pass the time."

He groans. "I did not have to know that."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you want me to tell you about the birds and the bees first?"

"I get it, you're a prostitute with no salary."

She whacks his head before bursting out in laughter. He suppresses his own laugh and merely chuckles through his nose.

"You would've been a better mother if you were high all the time."

"Nah," she shakes her head, "I just needed to be more present throughout your childhood. It's too late for me now." She shrugs as her lips fall into a hard line. Jungkook's smile falters and he doesn't say anything.

When she feels tears welling up in her eyes, she blinks repeatedly and lets go off the railing. "Good night, Kook. I'll see you in the morning."

He nods at her and watches her leave. Beats staying with Taehyung.

"Night," he murmurs to himself before putting out his joint and entering the living room. All the lights are out, but he's still familiar with the layout of the place.

When he passes the couch, he flinches at the sound of Yeri's voice. "G-Good night–"

"Shut up."

Before jumping on his bed, he checks his phone to see if you've sent any texts.

You: good night and sleep well baby!! i love you sm <33

♡ the love of my life ♡: gn and ilym

♡ the love of my life ♡: lets meet up tmr

#textbook love #wow this is fucking long #hope this gave some clarity on jk's upbringing 😫#not pRooFreAd :')#ps i loved this request #jungkook fic

57 notes · View notes

theimprobabledreamersworld · 3 years

Note

““ you look like shit. “ “ thank you. “” with Janus and Remus or Virgil?

Thanks for this request anon! I wrote this with Remus and Virgil, then Janus is mentioned here and there :)

There's warnings for injury detail, a fight mention and swearing but it's not too graphic! It was fun writing enemies to lovers- but it's a pretty slow burn, I'm almost tempted to write a part two for this :) This is basically the start of an enemies to friends to lovers.

Hope you enjoy! <3

General writing taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @lost-in-thought-20 @red-imeanblue @writerwithtoomanyships

Read on Ao3!

I hate you, but I'll look after you.

Remus/Virgil (Pre-Dukexiety)

Warnings: Injury detail, fight mention, swearing

The firm knock on the door startled Virgil awake. He rubbed his eyes and realised that he had fallen asleep on the sofa once again while watching some complete garbage on the TV. He stumbled over to the front door as the knocking became more insistent and frantic.

“Alright, alright! Calm the fuck down down, I’m coming!” The irritation clear in his voice, whoever was on the other side of this door better have a good excuse. He grabbed his key and unlocked the door before pulling it open aggressively. Virgil was about to shout again but faltered when he saw the sight in front of him.

It was Remus, a person who has been in his life for many years. They never got on, or agreed on pretty much anything. They argued and bickered whenever they were in the same room as each other, which continued to the point where they hated each other with every bone in their bodies. They’ve had to be physically separated on multiple occasions by their long suffering friend Janus who was always caught in the middle of their altercations. Enemies would be the perfect word to describe them, but even in the epitome of hatred, Virgil couldn’t turn away.

“Woah… you look like shit.” He said in a matter of fact way. Remus was clutching his side and he was gripping the pillar next to the door with all the strength he had left. There were cuts and bruises all over him, a particularly nasty cut shone in the light above his eye. His other eye was swollen and he was clearly in pain, but despite it all he managed to smirk and give Virgil a sarcastic comment in response.

“Aww, thank you! Ah, Virgil. My mortal enemy. After all these years, it’s nice to hear a genuine compliment from you.” Virgil rolled his eyes before grabbing Remus’ shirt and dragging him inside the house. That cut on his head was concerning if nothing else. He finally lets go of Remus and pushed him down onto the sofa. He clicked his fingers while pointing to him as a warning. Move, and there will be more injuries for me to clean up. Remus slouches on the sofa, the pain was starting to get to him and he was not in the mood to argue or intensify the situation. He gritted his teeth and tried to breathe through the pain, so he looked around the room while listening to Virgil moving around the kitchen getting things out of cupboards.

He had to admit, this wasn’t he was expecting Virgil’s house to look like. Given his coldness and callousness towards Remus, he didn’t anticipate how… warm the house felt. The rich purple walls covered in photo frames, the tables with various textbooks on them, and the windowsills that had several plants on them. Unlike Remus’ place, these plants were alive and thriving. Seeing this side of Virgil made him realise that he wasn’t the tough, closed off guy he had always assumed him to be. He shook his head of that thought, he only came here because he was desperate, not out of any kind of sentiment. Remus began to try and assess the extent of his injuries, so he carefully placed his fingers on his face and hissed when he felt the deep wound above his eye.

Remus was so busy making his injuries worse that he didn’t realise that Virgil had come back into the room and was moving everything onto one arm so he had a hand free. He walked up behind Remus and slapped his hand away from his face. He whimpered like a lost puppy and Virgil rolled his eyes for the hundredth time since Remus turned up at his door unannounced.

Virgil dumped his arsenal of first aid equipment on the coffee table, and he sat down on the other end of the sofa while scanning Remus’ face trying to decide which cut to clean up first. Remus watched as Virgil concentrated, and how he tried not to make eye contact. He laid out everything that he needed, and Remus’ eyes widened in fear as he saw the bottle of antiseptic. Had he fallen for some kind of trap? Virgil wasn’t going to help him at all… he was going to hurt him.

“Oh, I see. You’re going to use this opportunity to torture me… tell me. How much have you dreamed of this moment?” He tried to mask the fear he felt with sarcasm, but he chastised himself due to how scared he sounded. He’s had many experiences with wounds being cleaned up, and the agony that comes with the antiseptic. Virgil was pouring it onto some gauze when Remus began to speak, and when he reached the end of his performance, Virgil stopped what he was doing and put it down carefully on the side while sighing.

“You know I have to use it to help you, you dumbass. Yes, it’s going to hurt, but I’m not going to enjoy it… what do you take me for?” He grabbed a new bit of gauze before putting the antiseptic on it once again. He took a deep breath and waited for Remus to nod reluctantly before dabbing it delicately on the cuts. The other ones were okay, Remus grit his teeth and dug his hands into the cushion next to him. When the smaller cuts were cleaned up, Virgil turned his attention to the worrying one above the eye, and despite his best efforts, Remus couldn’t help but cry out every time the gauze touched his head. He couldn’t see it because his eyes were closed, but Virgil looked at him with sympathy, regretting the fact that he was causing pain. Even though they have caused each other a significant amount of pain and injuries over the years, this was different.

“Okay. It’s done. I’ve patched up what I can, you’ll need to keep an eye on them all, especially the one above your eye… so as payment for my kindness. Tell me what the hell happened to you. Now.” It was Virgil’s turn to try and disguise the worry in his voice, but it failed. Remus heard the sincerity and sighed, this wasn’t going to be easy to admit given their history. He winced as he sat up properly but stared at the floor as Virgil waited patiently for an answer.

“I was walking home earlier tonight, I saw some of our old… friends. They were talking shit about you. Bad stuff, even by my standards. I couldn’t help it, I- I saw red and I went for them. They got me in return pretty good… but I think they got my message loud and clear.” He looked up and saw Virgil staring at him in shock, confusion danced in his eyes and Remus leant back a little, not looking forward to the response.

“This all happened… because of me?” Virgil’s breathing started to get frantic, and Remus could feel the anger coursing through Virgil. “Why the HELL would you do that?! You HATE me!! I hate you! Where the fuck was Janus?” Remus shrugged, he didn’t know how to explain why he did what he did, but the hatred he usually felt wasn’t as strong, not anymore.

“I went to him first, but Janus wasn’t home, and no fucking hospitals. We might hate each other, Virgil… but the only person who can talk shit about you is me.” He couldn’t help but smile when Virgil chuckled at the statement. It was nice to see Virgil smile, it made him feel like all of this was worth it. He looked at the clock and saw that it was already 2am, so he pushed himself off the sofa and gave Virgil a nod of appreciation. Virgil followed suit just to make sure he got down the street safe. Not that he cared… of course not. As he stepped in front of Remus to open the door, he turned back trying to work out what to say.

“You know, as mortal enemies go… you’re the best one a person could have.” Virgil shuffled his feet before looking up at Remus. They smiled at each other, lingering in the company before Remus finally made the first move and left into the night.

As he heard the door shut behind him, he felt his cheeks that were red hot. Maybe Remus didn’t hate Virgil anymore, not really. Unbeknownst to him, Virgil was leaning against his door thinking the exact same thing.

#dukexiety #thomas sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #ts remus #ts virgil #ts janus #ts fanfic #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #human au #tw injury #tw fight mention #tw swearing

45 notes · View notes

willow-tree-writes · 3 years

Text

✾Arcade✾

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Your relationship to King Steve Harrington was just a game for him. Now that he’s learned to play fair, can he win you back, or lose everything?

Request: N/A

Author’s Note: I think I like making song fics a little too much. There’s just so much inspiration that comes from them! Also, I’m still more than open for requests, so feel free to message me or anything. (Can we just talk about this gif? I’m not a smoker, I don’t condone smoking, but hot damn...)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Jerk Steve, Cursing

!I don’t own this gif!

A broken heart is all that’s left I’m still fixing all the cracks

Nancy tapped your shoulder for what seemed like the tenth time in five minutes. “Sorry, one last thing.” She paused, glancing around the classroom. “You sure you still want to come over tonight? Steve’s going to be there…” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

It was kind of her to ask, and her tone was soft enough as she tried to beat around the bush, but it still stung a little.

“It’s been a couple years, Nanc. I’m sure.” You weren’t sure. Not completely.

I spent all the love I’ve saved We were always a losing game

You knocked on the door, almost immediately pulled inside by Nancy.

“I thought you weren’t gonna make it!” She led you downstairs into her basement, where everyone else was.

You laughed a little. “Like I’d miss a Halloween Movie Night.”

You didn’t even make it to the last step when you felt yourself come to a halt. Everyone was here - the Party was laying on the floor, candy and popcorn all around them. Jonathan was on the couch, a spot open for Nancy beside him. And Steve was here. Just like she said he would be.

Small-town boy in a big arcade I got addicted to a losing game

“Come on, Steve! One more game!” You begged, tugging at his arm a little.

Steve sighed as you pulled him back inside the Arcade. “Y/N, this is the seventh time you’ve played it tonight. We both know you always lose.”

You laughed a little as you pulled a quarter from your pocket. “Okay, but it’s so worth it!”

He stood back with crossed arms as he watched you play the game for the eighth time now. It went like every other round - you made it so, so close to the end, only to lose.

“See?” He uncrossed his arms and started back outside.

With a smile, you quickly followed after him. “Practice makes perfect, my King. Isn’t that how you got good at basketball?”

The playful chatter between you two was just so effortless. Ninth grade had been the best year of your life.

I saw the end before it began Still I carried, I carried, I carried on

“Tommy, give that to me.” Steve took the basketball from his ‘friends’ hands.

Tommy laughed and rolled his eyes. “What? Don’t want someone to take your b-ball title from ya?”

You were hesitant to approach the car, but you had to - Steve was giving you a ride home. “Hey, guys…”

You didn’t look at her, but you could feel the roll of Carol’s eyes.

“Y/N…” Steve sounded a little awkward for a moment, like there was something he wanted to say but didn’t know how to. He cleared his throat a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey.”

Biting your lip, you try to ignore the fact Tommy and Carol were ignoring you. “So, my mom isn’t going to be home in time, so we’ll probably have to look after Jenna for a couple of hours.”

The awkwardness in Steve’s stance seemed to upgrade.

He opened his mouth to say something but Tommy put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “Have fun with that kid-killing duty.” He said to you before looking at Steve. “That party starts in about an hour, and this girl needs to change. Let’s get a move on.”

Tommy walked around and got into the passenger's seat of Steve’s car and Carol got in the back.

“Sorry, Y/N, but I got to go.” With his key in hand, Steve moved up and kissed you quickly on the cheek.

Forcing a smile, you shake your head a little. “It’s fine, Steve. Have fun.”

He smiled back, thanking you before getting into his car.

You stepped back and watched as Steve pulled out of the parking. Pulled away from you.

You let the smile drop to a frown as you started your walk home. Alone.

All I know, all I know Loving you is a losing game

“I love you, Steve-” The phone hung up before you could finish what you were going to say. Before he could say anything back.

“I love you-” The front door closed before you could finish what you were going to say. Before he could say anything back.

“I love-” The car door closed before you could finish what you were going to say. Before he could say anything back.

“I-” He walked away before you could finish what you were going to say. Before he could say anything back.

Summer had started a month ago, and Steve didn’t make one effort to hang out with you. He didn’t even call you.

You knew exactly why that was - he was hoping that if he ignored you enough, you’d get the hint and not try to get close to him. He was hoping he didn’t have to break up with you face to face.

But you chose to block away that knowledge. He was still Steve, right? Under all that high school fame, he was still Steve Harrington, your boyfriend…

That’s what you thought as you knocked on the front door of the house you visited so many times. That house that was currently full of people and booming with music. A house you hadn’t been invited to in a while.

Steve opened the door with a smile on his face a beer in hand. He had just finished laughing at what someone told him as he made it through the crowd.

His face and drink fell when his eyes landed on you. “Y/N…”

“We need to talk.” This was the first time in a while you felt like you could solidly say something.

He nodded a little and walked out of his house, closing the door behind him.

You wanted to ease into it. To ask him how he’s been. Ask if he’s been actually, genuinely having fun.

But pleasantries go out the window when you’re in front of the person who’s been chipping away at your heart. “Are we breaking up?”

There might have been no emotion in your voice, but you had to stop yourself from breaking down at even the thought of asking.

He sighed and you knew the answer. “Y/N, this just isn’t working for me anymore.”

“It would have been nice to be told that instead of figuring it out myself.” You couldn’t discern the tone of your own voice. You wanted to cry, but you wanted to slap him across the face with your words.

“Y/N, don’t be like that.” He reached out to grab your arm.

But you pulled away as fast as you could. “Have fun with your new life, King Steve.”

You don’t listen to him saying your name as you turn on your heels and walk down the driveway to go home.

I don’t need you games, game over

You tried to pretend as if you didn’t see him. Hell, you wanted to pretend he didn’t even exist. But that was asking too much.

Nancy handed you a bag of candy her mom put together and you sat down on the floor with the Party.

You opened it up as you sense Dustin peak over your shoulder. “You can have my nougat if you get your cat to stop chewing my socks whenever I babysit.”

“Deal!” Dustin spoke and grabbed the candy before you could even finish.

You laughed and shook your head. You could have sworn you saw Steve smile out of the corner of your eye.

Get me of this rollercoaster

“Y/N, wait!” Steve rushed out behind you as you started down the Wheeler’s driveway.

You closed your eyes and sighed. You had succeeded with ignoring him for the whole night. Now, when you were taking your victory home, he had to ruin it.

You stopped walking, but didn’t say anything or turn around.

You heard him jog up to you, stopping a couple of feet away. “Can we talk? I feel like you’ve been ignoring me all evening.”

“That’s because I have been…” You shrug a little.

It was silent, and you could tell Steve was trying to figure out how to respond to that.

You sigh again and turn around, looking at Steve for the first time. He had definitely grown since ninth grade.

“I don’t want to hear some bullshit about you being sorry.” You say, catching him off guard. “You made your priorities clear enough I’d say.”

Steve stepped forward towards you, reaching to grab your arm. You take a step back, shaking off a flashback.

“I was a dick, I know.”

“I don’t care if you’ve changed.”

“But I have, and I want to explain-”

“I don’t want to hear it!” You snap. Every emotion you pushed down for years flashed in your eyes, making Steve stare.

You bite your lip, crossing your arms. “All I know, all I care to know, is that loving you is a losing game.”

All I know, all I know Loving you Is a losing Game

---- ----

Tag List - @cheshirecat107 ♛ @killj0y2019 ♛ @Ashleyleblancx ♛ @andrewdrea99 ♛

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington one shot #stranger things #stranger things one shot #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n

125 notes · View notes

itcameuponamidnightqueer · 3 years

Note

fake dating 10, any pairing you want

damie + “please just hold my hand, that person’s basically undressing me with their eyes.”

trope prompts

It’s not that Jamie doesn’t want to be at this school function, it’s just that—

No, that’s a lie. She definitely doesn’t want to be here, and wouldn’t if she weren’t part of the staff. Wouldn’t be here if Dani hadn’t tricked her, really, because Jamie’s usually pretty good about saying no even at work.

“Rebecca’s back from traveling,” Dani had tried, and Jamie said no because who knows how long that’ll last.

“Owen said he’s gonna ask Hannah out,” she’d tried next, and Jamie had actually laughed in her face.

“Someone is actually going to have to physically force those two together,” she’d replied, and Dani’s eyes lit up, prompting her with a quirk of an eyebrow.

In no world does Jamie want to be that person.

Dani had sighed. “Free booze,” she’d grumbled, desperate. Jamie had rolled her eyes and opened the door to her well-stocked liquor cabinet.

Dani had pursed her lips together and turned her face away, almost quick enough for Jamie to miss the grin she was failing to suppress.

If Jamie weren’t constantly on the lookout for that smile, she might have succeeded.

Dani had sighed again, raked a hand through her fluffy, perfect hair, and flopped back on the couch.

“Okay, fine,” she huffed. “You win, don’t come, we’ll hang out over the weekend and I’ll just tell you all about how lonely I was at the party—my first party without Eddie, which everyone will probably be asking me about and I’ll have to field awkward questions all night—”

Jamie scoffed. “And you think I’m going to magically make them not be awkward?”

“No,” Dani answered, a little too quickly. “I think you’d glare at them so hard they wouldn’t even ask me in the first place.”

“I think I’ve just been insulted!”

“No,” Dani laughed, “you just have that whole—” She scrunched her eyebrows together and set her shoulders, curled her lip upwards into an unmistakable hint of a sneer. Her voice, when she spoke, was half an octave lower and at least six countries away from Jamie’s accent. “—’Don’t fuck wiv’ me’ vibe going on,” she finished.

Jamie had taken a few long moments to blink away the urge to kiss her.

“You’ve gotten worse,” she’d finally said. “Almost a year and a half working together and you’ve gotten worse.”

“Come to the party and you can spend the whole time teaching me.”

“Dani.”

“Jamie.”

Her eyes weren’t wide anymore; they’d shrunk back to being shy and vulnerable, the stormy kind of blue that Jamie didn’t ever see unless they were alone. Jamie had spent the better part of a year not acknowledging her feelings for Dani, and she was good at it. Not always good enough to escape Hannah’s shrewd gaze, but enough to where it was a genuine friendship, and she only felt the roar of devotion flare up in the quietest, most private of moments.

Jamie was excellent at controlling her emotions. She’d spent an entire lifetime honing that skill, protecting herself from the surprisingly large amount of people who seemed destined to hurt her.

Jamie had nothing on Dani Clayton.

Dani could suppress any negative feeling until it almost ceased to exist; she had an incredible way of just...willing things not to happen. It had taken months for her to reveal the cracks in her relationship with Eddie, and even then Jamie sat by and watched, completely blown away, by how quickly and how sincerely Dani put the mask back up around people who only wanted to see silk and porcelain. The crazy thing about it was that Dani meant it; Dani gave all of her attention to everyone who asked for it. She didn’t have an insincere bone in her body.

But, god—Jamie’s life had been shit before, and still nothing made her sadder than watching Dani perform.

If all it took for her not to do that was one party, well, she could table the rest of it for later.

She’d picked up her phone and opened up the group chat they had with Hannah, Owen, and Rebecca.

“Right,” she’d groaned, “guess we’ve gotta coordinate who’s driving because the only way I’m getting through this is if I’m very, very drunk.”

And so Jamie finds herself at the not-yet-Christmas, ambiguously-winter end-of-semester party, sticking to Rebecca like a leech while she regales groups of coworkers with the same six stories of her very impulsive, wildly successful trip around the world. Dani, meanwhile, hasn’t been answering any awkward questions, from what Jamie’s heard, and is instead relaxed and popular as she chats with all of their friends.

Jamie almost turned around ten minutes in, once it became clear what the tone of the night would be. But there was no sense in bailing when she was already there and hadn’t driven herself, and—

Who would be there for Dani to look at, every twenty minutes or so, just for reassurance or to check in or whatever kind of comfort she might be seeking. (Jamie doesn’t know for sure what it is. She knows what she hopes it is. But that’s something else for the ‘later’ bag.)

She stays. Jamie stays and drinks and laughs and eventually gets sucked into the party of it all, which is why she’s five minutes into her best story of youthful shenanigans that didn’t end in a visit from the cops, and absolutely doesn’t notice the anxious blonde rushing at her from across the room.

“Hold my hand, hold my hand, hold my hand,” Dani urges, arm outstretched as she speeds closer. She hits Jamie’s elbow when she gets close enough and finally manages to wrestle Jamie’s hand into an iron grip.

Jamie, sufficiently interrupted, stops talking and looks down. “What’s going on here, then?”

Dani takes a deep breath and plasters on the worst attempt at a smile Jamie’s ever seen, which is still pretty good by most peoples’ standards. “Remember all those awkward questions I thought I’d get about Eddie?” she says through clenched teeth.

“Yep.”

“Thought they’d be full of pity, not flirting.”

Jamie’s head shoots up, trying to pick out the offenders, but Dani slaps her elbow again.

“Don’t look!” she hisses. “We have to make this convincing.”

“Make what convincing?” Jamie narrows her eyes and takes a long sip of her drink. “You’re pulling me into some kind of scheme, Poppins, and I know I’ve told you what happened the last time somebody did that…”

Dani laughs, high and fluttery and nervous in the back of her throat. “Please just hold my hand,” she implores. “Nathan is basically undressing me with his eyes but I think you can scare him off if he sees us together.”

“Nathan?” Jamie starts to scan the room again, a little less obviously this time. “Nathan Ford, the school’s sluttiest social studies teacher?”

“Mhm.”

“The same Nathan Ford who’s walking over right now?”

“What!” Dani straightens up, rigid and spooked like a deer in the road. “I can’t believe—I was so careful; is he stalking me?”

The anxiety is short-lived and replaced very quickly with anger once Jamie can no longer hold in her laughter.

“You,” Dani says, prying Jamie’s drink from her other hand, “tricked me.”

“You tricked me first,” Jamie winks.

“I don’t even think he’s in here anymore.”

Jamie shrugs. “Probably not.”

“You made me think I was in so much trouble…”

“You’re always safe with me, Poppins.”

Dani finishes the drink.

The funny thing is, neither of them lets go.

Nathan Ford isn’t the only slutty teacher and it doesn’t take Jamie long to get a glimpse of what Dani’s been dealing with, the men—single and married—who look at her just a little too long, a little too presumptuously. Dani, of course, handles it with grace and charm, and Jamie thinks that maybe she didn’t need her grumpy buffer after all.

She holds tight anyway, just in case.

It’s a dangerous thing to do, parade a fake relationship in front of all of their coworkers, but it doesn’t feel wrong or forced. They’re going on a break soon, Jamie rationalizes. School is going on a two-week break and everyone is drunk and no one is going to remember the scandal of the fourth grade teacher clinging all night to the newest member of the art department. If they do...well, everything can be laughed off or pushed down or forgotten eventually.

So they cling and they talk and Jamie expertly lets every too-interested man know, with absolute certainty, that their efforts should be directed elsewhere. She tickles her fingers against Dani’s, throws in a few isn’t that right, love’s every once in a while, rubs a hand on her back when the moment feels right. And Dani—

Dani invades her space—presses their shoulders together, scratches at the inside of Jamie’s wrist, wipes a stray bit of liquor from the side of her mouth after an untidy sip. Jamie feels all of this and lets it wash over her, lets it sink under her skin and warm her body until she feels like she could start a fire with her hands.

The night winds down and people filter out and eventually there isn’t anyone left to fool. But Dani’s hand is still in hers and Jamie is more than happy to be slow and soft with her. She stays, for the tenth and fifteenth and hundredth time.

It’s just the five of them left, eventually, and they migrate to the bar when the party room in the back seems too large for such a small group. They situate themselves on stools in the corner, and the conversation flows without a hitch. It always has with this group—Owen, Hannah, and Rebecca first, then Dani, then Jamie. She’d tell them all how much it really means to know them if anyone got enough drink in her.

Until then, she’ll scoff at group texts and drag her feet to parties and settle into the fact that they all know it’s for show anyway.

She props her head on her hand and listens, quickly approaching the sleepy part of drinking. She tries not to watch Dani too much while they all talk but it’s difficult—Dani is noticeable at a distance and absolutely striking up close. The curl of her lips as she smiles, the way they overtake her entire face if she means it enough (and she usually does); the laughter that pours out of her and directly into the hearts of anyone lucky enough to be listening; the way her ears look bigger when she hooks her hair behind them, how she only does that when she’s in very comfortable company.

After about thirty minutes, Jamie gets up to retrieve their coats before she does something stupid, like playfully tug at Dani’s earlobe or reach in to straighten the collar on her shirt.

She returns shortly, holding her leather jacket and Dani’s very puffy winter coat, and sits down without a word, content to wait for a natural break in the conversation. She folds the coats over her lap and fiddles with a coaster on the counter.

Dani absently reaches back to still her fingers after about a minute. A simple gesture—resting her hand atop Jamie’s, perhaps swiping her thumb across the back of her hand. Nothing like the displays they’d been putting on earlier. So unlike them, in fact, that Jamie doesn’t notice it at all.

Owen, Hannah, and Rebecca can’t take their eyes off it.

“So, what, were you waiting to tell me until I got back?”

Jamie nurses the dregs of her beer. “Tell you what?”

“This, what is this!” Rebecca exclaims, fluttering her fingers in the direction of Jamie and Dani’s still-clasped hands. “I go gallivanting around the world for an entire year and neither of you mention that you’ve shacked up?”

Jamie and Dani look at their hands, look at each other, and start speaking at the same time.

“We’re not dating, it was just a stupid thing for tonight—”

“Jamie’s doing me a favor since Eddie’s gone and men are creepy—”

“Right, sure.” Rebecca squints and fixes both of them with a sly glance. “It’s just for tonight, to ward off creepy men, which is why you’re still doing it since there are so many of them around now.”

“Must have just gotten used to it,” Dani offers weakly.

“Of course, which is why you still haven’t let go.”

Jamie lets go and tries not to telegraph how much she misses the weight of Dani’s hand.

“You’re definitely not dating,” Rebecca continues, “which is why Jamie got up and got her coat and Dani’s, and left the rest of us hanging.”

Dani looks down and finally notices the coat in Jamie’s lap. “You got my coat?” she asks, furrowing her brow.

“Yeah,” Jamie shrugs. “Seemed like you were ready to go.”

“Yeah, but I was—I was still talking.”

Jamie waves a hand. “You were telling the piano lesson story; you always tell that when you want the night to wind down.”

“No, I—” Dani frowns and retrieves her purse from where it’s hooked around the stool; she rummages through it frantically, her movements loose and messy. “How did you get my coat check ticket?”

“Took that from ya ages ago, Poppins,” Jamie answers. “You were so nervous you were gonna rub the number right off it, and then we’d both be shit outta luck.”

Jamie watches as the expression on Dani’s face morphs, unfurls from stern, puzzled ridges and relaxes into fondness, into twinkling eyes and soft cheeks, a mischievous affection that floors Jamie every time she sees it. Every time, she wonders how many people have been lucky enough to have been on the receiving end of this look, and hopes that the answer is ‘very few’.

“We should, um, probably go,” Dani whispers.

Jamie smiles. “We all drove here together,” she reminds Dani, just as quietly.

Dani slumps back. She reaches for her coat but instead of grabbing it, simply rests her hand on top, like she’s waiting.

Jamie breathes deeply and avoids looking at Rebecca.

“Owen, mate,” she says, daring him to tease her, “maybe you could drop off Dani and me first.”

#the haunting of bly manor #damie #dani x jamie #dani clayton #jamie taylor #can't believe it's taken me this long to jump on the bly manor bandwagon but #here i am boys here i am world!!#as usual: this got out of hand!!!#tumblr fic #long post #anonymous #carments

156 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Text

Title: Lasting Rivalries.

Word Count: 4.1k

Written for an anonymous commissioner.

Synopsis: Izuku loves you, but he doesn’t like Katsuki very much. It’s just a shame he can’t separate one feeling from the other.

TW: Kidnapping, Captivity, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Death, Delusional Mindsets, and Emotional Manipulation.

[Part One] / [Part Three]

If you thought about it, you could still feel his hands on your skin.

It’d been hours since you were strapped to that bed, hours since he tormented Katsuki and made you suffer and mistook his delusional, crazed jealousy as love, or something close to it, at least. It’s been hours, and yet, if you closed your eyes, you could still feel his heatless touch, the way his skin seemed to leech the warmth from yours and how no amount of time and shivering could bring back what you’d lost. You’d done what you could to rid yourself of the feeling. After he… finished, you’d been too weak to try to run, and he’d been too love-struck to care if you did. As much as you’d wanted to, you hadn’t resisted as he undid your restraints, as he wrapped you in his suit jacket and dragged you - stumbling and reluctant - through the halls of his bunker.

When he brought you to a bedroom, dark and dim but only half as dirty as the room you’d come from, you hadn’t tried to push your way past him as he locked the door and explained that some of his men were untrustworthy, that ‘Kacchan’ might get loose and try to hunt you down, that the locks were for your own good. You’d flinched as he slid the slick, black keycard into the tiny slit, the one that’d keep you trapped here, the one you should be scrambling to find a way to pick, to break, or smash into such an unrepairable state, you and Izuku would both starve in here together. But, you hadn’t, and you’d lost the opportunity to.

There was a cramped, militaristic bathroom attached to the suite, and you’d stood under the rusted shower-head until the boiling water blistered your skin, then went cold, then went freezing, and you had to get out or face the repercussions of hypothermia. It’d been uncomfortable, it’d been painful, but it’d been a cleansing pain, the kind that cleared your head and made it a little easier to process the world around you, to differentiate what was happening now to what was already over, what you couldn’t change. What had left you sore and bruised and aching, but what you’d survived, and what you would get past, eventually. You’d get back to Katsuki, and then--

Oh, god.

Katsuki.

You’d been moved to another bedroom, but if Izuku had any intention of doing anything his less-favored captive, you hadn’t been able to tell. No, he’d been left bound and muzzled to rot in his own affliction, and if Izuku’s aggressive apathy was sincere, you doubted he’d be treated with much kindness, going forward. It felt wrong thinking about your boyfriend like that, a victim who needed to be saved, someone who needed to be helped rather than the guiding hand you’d always known him as. He was a hero, and you weren’t. He was strong, and in so, so many ways, you couldn’t be. But, he couldn’t do anything heroic while he was restrained from wrist to ankle, so it was beginning to seem like you might have to be--

“Darling, are you alright?”

You stiffed as soon as you heard his voice, going rigid and scrambling for a weapon, a shield, something to defend yourself, but Izuku was already opening the bathroom door, stepping in before you had a chance to make a move. You could only be glad you’d already pulled on the clothes he was generous enough to provide, even if one of his white button-down shirts did little to separate you from his prying gaze. But, you doubted he’d be able to give you anything sturdy enough to block that out.

His expression softened when he saw you, his eyes lighting up with the faint, flickering glow he hadn’t bothered to hide when you first woke up, in his captivity. You tried to scowl, attempting to glare at the barren floor as imposingly as you could manage, but it couldn’t have been very effective. Izuku didn’t hesitate to approach you, to come too close, to think too little, only stopping when he was directly in front of you, one hand cupping your cheek and the other coming to rest on your arm, drawing circles in your bicep as if you were a scared animal that needed to be soothed. You supposed you were. Despite your budding plans, you couldn’t help but shiver so violently whenever he was near enough to meet your eyes, let alone put his hands on you.

He didn’t try to deny it. “Poor baby… You’re still scared, aren’t you?” A small, patronizing smile painted itself across his face, just barely pulling at the corners of his lips. You didn’t nod, didn’t try to answer, but he didn’t seem to need you to, either. With a quiet hum, he continued, speaking more to his paranoia than to yours. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re with me, now, and Kacchan’s going to be taken care of.” There was a pause, a playful wink. As if you should be proud you’d been important enough to earn a few hours of his time. “I’m won’t let anything bad happen to you. Certainly not by his hand, not again.”

You flinched at the mention of Katsuki, and this time, you were thankful that Izuku wasn’t paying attention to you. Not enough to care about such a small show of displeasure, at least. “You’ll take care of him?” You asked, hesitantly, still unsure how far you wanted to push his boundaries. “What do you mean? How long are you going to keep us here?”

“How long am I going to keep you here,” He corrected, softly, just beginning to tilt your head back. He let out a soft chuckle, as if the statement was a joke he’d been telling himself far too long for it to be truly, genuinely funny. “Just you. He’ll be lucky to make it through the night.”

You should’ve expected that. You knew it was going to happen. You knew Izuku had to be planning something for Katsuki, something violent and something inpermanent.

You should’ve expected that, but it still felt so awful to hear.

Now more than ever, you should’ve tried to stay calm. You should’ve been composed, and you should’ve accepted the development with a purse of your lips and strategic silence, the kind that’d mean anything Izuku wanted it to mean. But, he’d just threaten someone’s life, he’d just threatened your boyfriend’s life, and he should’ve counted him lucky you only got mad. It took every ounce of your self-restraint not to lunge at him, consequences be damned. “You can’t do that. You went through the effort of getting both of us, you can’t just--”

“I can do anything I want to.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it the kind of arrogant declaration made by someone with too much power for it not to go to his head. It was a truth, a fact. Or, Izuku thought it was, at least. “He’s been a thorn in my side for decades, and I’ve been much too sentimental when it comes to removing him. He’s a disgrace to the world of Heroes. He’s a disgrace to the world. I can’t justify giving him another chance to root himself under my skin.” A sigh, a languid shake of his head. He let go of your cheek, but having him take up your wrists and press your hands against his chest was only a minor improvement. “If he gets free, he won’t stop until I’m dead and you’re locked away somewhere so deep and somewhere so dark, you’ll be lucky to ever see sunlight again. I love you too much to risk losing you, but I promise, I’ll never be half as mean as Kacchan. If someone ever tried to take you away from me, I wouldn’t stop until their head was mounted in my office.”

“If you lay a finger on him,” You spat, fighting the urge not to pull away from him. “I’ll never think of you as anything but a monster--”

You didn’t get a chance to finish. This time, he didn’t let your little show of rebellion slide. Still, you heard the blow before you felt it - a sharp, sterile crack of skin against skin, and then the burning, the flare of heat, a spark that ignited everything from your jaw to the bridge of your nose. It took you a moment to process what he’d done. A moment too long, for such a simplistic offense.

He’d slapped you.

It was so straight-forward, so impulsive, you weren’t sure whether to be angry or afraid or something between, something darker than either emotion could fully cover. He hadn’t hurt you yet, not in a way that’d be so difficult to hide behind a half-hearted justification and an excuse about love or protection or something lovely and rotten. You weren’t sure whether that made it better or worse. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Izuku didn’t seem sure either, if you were being honest. As soon as you moved to nurse your bruising cheek, he was on top of you, one of his arms draped around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest, leaving his free hand to card through your hair and flit around the edges of your minor injury, a worried scowl pulling at the edges of his lips. But, Izuku didn’t move to apologize, only attempting to open his mouth before whatever he was going to stay was muted by a grimace - obviously horrified, but far from regretful. When he finally broke the silence, his stance didn’t seem to change. Disappointed, but not shocked. Distressed, but resolute, at the same time.

“I.. I shouldn’t have done that,” He admitted, his posture straightening defensively. He pulled away, slightly, scanning over your face. As if he hadn’t already done so much more to harm you. “You just… you have to understand that this is for your own good, (Y/n). You’re going to be happy with me, I want you to be happy, but you’re going to have to let go of that stain, first. This is what he does to people.” There was a pause, a shake of his head, and slowly, he fell away from you, taking a step back when you failed to react. “He drives them apart. He makes people hate each other. You can’t trust anything he says. Bringing him back to my hideout was a mistake, I should’ve killed him in his sleep - clearly, he’s already worked himself into your brain.” Izuku bowed his head. It was the closest he’d come to showing his remorse, and you had a feeling it was the closest he would come. “I should’ve taken care of this sooner. I shouldn’t have drawn it out. I’m going to take care of it, I will take care of it. I’m not going to let him do anymore damage, not when you’re at stake.”

He turned, starting towards the bathroom door without another word. You didn’t think, you didn’t give yourself time to. You weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself from faltering, if you did.

Frantically, you stumbled forward, grabbing Izuku’s forearm and taking him by the sleeve, dragging him back towards you. Acidic bile rose in your throat at the thought of giving him what he wanted, but that didn’t stop you from clenching your eyes shut and forcing out the words, regardless of how much they burnt at your tongue. “Midoriya,” You mumbled, fighting not to stutter over such a simple sentiment. “I don’t think I can… I might not be able to… Could you---Could you stay?” Your grip tightened around his wrist, your nails digging into cloth and the thin, pale skin underneath. If Izuku cared, though he didn’t pull away, and you took that as a cue to keep going. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep, alone.”

The declaration was too hasty, too sudden, too flat and too desperate, but Izuku’s eyes still lit up, whatever skepticism he might’ve felt fading into a broad, careless smile. As enamoured as it was entrapping.

“Of course, sweetheart. All you had to do was ask.”

Izuku slept. You didn’t.

You doubted you’d be able to. Even when you tried to relax, when you tried to close your eyes and put on a convincing act, you could never get further than curling into yourself and willing Izuku not to notice the way you trembled despite the humid air, how easy it was to make you shy away despite his touch being relatively innocent, considering what he’d proved himself to be capable of. He’d rambled on about he’d always be there for you, rambling off threats and the mutilations he’d be willing to commit in your name like bedtime stories, but for all his vows of protection and security, he’d been quick to fall silent as soon as he realized you weren’t contradicting him, anymore, his body limp and still half-slouched against your side. His weight was oppressive, and you doubted any amount of rest would aid the dark-bags dyed into the skin under his eyes, but it was fine, it was perfect. If anything, you should be glad he was so exhausted.

It would be easier to pick his pockets, when he was asleep.

It wasn’t a difficult task, something you’d done a dozen different times with drunk friends you thought you could trust with your keys, but you still froze in place every time he made a sound, even as your fingers slipped into his left pocket, the one you’d been staring down since he first showed you this shiny new cage. You went still as he let out a groan, stiffening as he burrowed himself deeper into your shoulder, but you knew you’d get what you want as soon as your fingers brushed against that warm, metallic shape. The key to the rest of his bunker, the key to getting out of here.

The keycard.

Your keycard, now.

Repositioning Izuku to lay against the headboard as gently as you could, you slipped off the cot, your bare feet hitting the pavement floor silently as you found the exit and pushed your prize into its designated slot, your hands steady for the first time that night. There was a small, high-pitched ping, but Izuku didn’t stir, didn’t wake up. You could only hope you’d be out of his reach, by the time he did.

The halls of his bunker were surprisingly empty, considering how expansive Izuku’s organization was supposed to be, but that didn’t stop you from pausing at every turn, holding your breath whenever you heard the sound of another voice, doing your best to imitate the way trained Heroes were supposed to move, when they didn’t get caught. You couldn’t be sure where Katsuki was being kept, hell, you barely knew which direction you should be going in, but there wasn’t much you could do, not beyond picking a hall and hoping it didn’t lead you into the stronghold of Izuku’s labyrinth. You had to be quiet, but fast. You had to be stealthy, but effective. You had to be so, so many things, but…

Apparently you couldn’t be any of those things.

As you moved to round another corner, your back pressed against the wall and heart struggling not to beat any louder than it had to, something latched onto your shoulder, jerking you backward as a hand shot out, sealing itself over your mouth as you haulted, caught between the reflex to scream and the awareness that you shouldn’t attract more attention than you absolutely had to. As a compromise, you didn’t make noise, but you struggled, thrashing and kicking and throwing your elbow into your assailant’s chest, but all your efforts earned were a tightened grip and a soft grunt, throaty but muffled, not meant to be heard.

“Really, babe?” He asked, his voice just as quiet as his sounds of discomfort. “I thought you’d be happier to see me.”

It took you a second too long to recognize that voice, much lower and much drier than the endearing arrogance you’d grown fond of. The voice you only heard while you were sitting in uncomfortable, plastic chairs beside hospital beds, on the scenes of attacks where the dust had already settled and the medics has long-since finished doing what they could. It meant exhaustion, it meant injury, it meant dehydration and desolation and suffering, but god, were you glad to hear it.

You didn’t even try to hold yourself up, not after you realized how many times you’d fallen into the pair of arms wrapped around you. No, you just went slack, letting a grimy, blood, glorious Katsuki support you as you went slack. It might’ve been the relief. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since the last time you’d seen him, but you'd been so, so worried, and just knowing he was still alive seemed to make all the difference in the world. It might’ve been the stress, the adrenaline, you didn’t think you really cared, not as long as you could twist around and wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest as he pulled you closer, entangling his fingers in your hair and pushing a soft, lingering kiss into the top of your head, his touch so much less preformative than Izuku’s, so much more loving. You wanted to melt into it. You wanted to attach yourself to him and never, ever leave his side again. You wanted him to hold you, and you didn’t want anyone to rip him away again.

But, he was already moving back, taking you by the waist and scanning over you, looking for signs of further abuse. “What happened? Did he hurt you--”

“What happened to you?” It was all you could do not to yell, not to scream. You’d been assaulted, but he’d been cornered, he’d almost been killed. “Midoriya was going to… He made it sound like you were already half-way dead. I thought he was going to get to you before I did.”

“With the weak-ass lackeys he sent to do it? Those motherfuckers couldn’t put a scratch on me, not once the kiddie-gloves came off,” He scoffed, smirking confidently, if only to calm you down. You doubted there hadn’t been a fight, there was always a fight with Katsuki, but if he could brag about it, he could pretend things were fine for a few more minutes, long enough to run and make you think everything would be alright, too. “If Deku could kill me, he would’ve done it by now. You’ve got nothing to worry about, not when it comes to me.”

For the first time since you’d escaped from Izuku’s hold, you let yourself exhale, rigid tension melting off in waves. “Promise?

His grip loosened, but any hope you might’ve lost was quickly restored as his hands fell, taking up yours and squeezing lightly. “I promise.”

There might’ve been another hug, another kiss. There might’ve been one, or their might’ve been many, if you had another minute, another second, another moment. But, all too suddenly, all too realistically, Izuku or some force under his control was determined to separate you, this time in the form of flashing blue lights and sirens so loud, you could hardly hear Katsuki curse as he took up your wrist and started running.

You hadn’t known where to go, but Katsuki seemed to. Whether it was through luck, overheard information, or blind inhibition, he found his way to the exit, or, rather, what you had to assume was supposed to be the exit. You must’ve been underground, because the only way out seemed to be a thin, utilitisic staircase, wide enough for one person and so steep, a ladder might’ve been a more practical choice. The climb wasn’t what concerned you, though, you’d scale a mountain if it meant getting a little further from Izuku, but it didn’t seem like that was a choice you’d get to make.

You should’ve expected it. You should’ve seen it coming as soon as the bunker went into lock down, as soon as you’d been naive enough to leave Izuku alone without slitting his throat, first. It made sense. You hated it, but it made sense.

You wouldn’t make it through, because faster than you could run, a thick metal sheet was sprouting from either side of the doorway, nearly blocking your only way out.

You wouldn’t make it.

But, Katsuki could.

He moved the same time you did, scrambling to get a grip on your forearm as you pulled yourself free of his hold, barely bothering to work your way behind him before you shoved Katsuki through the narrow exit, forcing him through the small gap before he could process what you were doing. He might’ve yelled, might’ve tried to clamber his way back to you, but any sound was cut off by the make-shift door sliding into place. Even if any of his curses or rants or screams made it through the barrier, you wouldn’t have been able to hear them. Before you could think to run, before you could think to do anything, something sleek and smooth and strong wrapped around your neck, slamming your back into the nearest wall. A leather glove, as familiar as it was fatal.

You didn’t have to look to know it was Izuku.

You didn't have to, but it wasn’t like he was ever going to give you a choice.

“Congratulations,” He growled, the back of his hand pushing into the bottom of your chin, forcing your head back and keeping your eyes level with his, frozen terror forced to stand on the same ground as swirling, spiraling rage, a lightless flame that burnt at the edges of your vision and made your entire body feel cold. “You saved your boyfriend for a whole three seconds. What makes you think I can’t just send someone after him while I break every single one of your kleptomanic little fingers.”

You swallowed, but you didn’t hesitate. You knew what you were going to say. “You won’t.”

He grit his teeth. “And why’s that, angel?”

“Because if you do,” You started, letting your focus drop to the scuffed cement at your feet. “I’ll never stop hating you.”

There was a disgruntled frown, a move to pull away, but you were the one to cling to him, this time, to throw yourself into his chest and pray he didn’t notice how badly your shoulders were shaking, how much you didn’t want to go on. But, you had to. He’d kill Katsuki, if you didn’t. He might’ve killed you, if you didn’t. “Please, please, just let him go! Do this for me, and I swear, I’ll stay with you.” Izuku stopped, but he didn’t pry you off of him. You took that as a silent cue to continue, to grovel for all your life was worth. “I won’t try to run. I won’t try to fight. I won’t even talk back. You can have me, but you need to let Katsuki go.”

Despite your desperation, Izuku didn’t seem convinced. His fist balled around the collar of your shirt as he tossed a glance over his shoulder, signaling to one of his associates out of the group forming behind him - a brunette on the shorter side, one who looked like she’d just rolled out of bed to run to Izuku’s aid. “Uraraka, get me their file. There could be a quirk--”

“There isn’t.” It was an instinctive correction, albeit one that burnt at the tip of your tongue as you choked it out. “I mean, you shouldn’t bother. I’m… I’m quirkless.”

There was a pause, a recalculation, and for the second time that day, you saw Izuku’s mind work to twist around a piece of new information, his expression softening as he rearranged formless parts into a more suitable, more agreeable whole. One he could accept, one that let him be angry with Katsuki rather than you. It was revolting. It was sickening. It was pathetic, but you didn’t try to push him away as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and burying his face in your hair, insecurities boiling the surface in tandem with the jagged, ugly shapes his delusions were so eager to take on. “Poor baby,” He sighed, the words almost lost to the airiness of his voice. “No wonder you needed to get Kacchan as far as possible, I wouldn’t be able to rest if I was in your position, either. You should’ve said something sooner, I would’ve been able to help.”

He continued to fuss, continued to lament your shared limitations as he pulled you through the forming crowd, but you couldn’t bring yourself to listen, you couldn’t bring yourself to think about anything but how his skin burnt where it touched yours. You wanted to pull away. You didn’t want to let him touch you, you didn’t want to let him pretend he cared about you, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t.

All you could do was bite your tongue and hope Izuku loved you more than he hated Katsuki.

367 notes · View notes