Tumgik
#so many n's jesus. really had to dig deep on the n front
Text
oh lord
@actingcamplibrarian tagged me to spell my tumblr handle with musical artists
MY HANDLE IS SO LONG
I'm assuming this is supposed to be musical artists that you like and not just random ones, so hey, let's use this as a chance to throw some actual songs out there...
Men at Work - Catch a Star
Indigo Girls - Joking
Toad the Wet Sprocket - Walk on the Ocean
Okui Masami - Rinbu Revolution
Cafe Tacuba - 1-2-3
Hootie and the Blowfish - I Go Blind (...aaand the slightly better original Canadian version)
Oasis - Some Might Say
Nine Days - Bob Dylan
Dada - Dog
Rufus Wainwright - Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk
Isabelle Antena - Say I Believe in It
Active Bird Community - Sweaty Lake
Alice Smith - Cabaret
Nagareyama Shimon - Kokoro ni Watashi wa Futari ga Iru
Dead Sara - Something Good
Big Country - Big Country
Utada - Keep Tryin'
Natti Vogel - I Don't Want to Find the One
Nightmare - Sanagi
Ishikawa Chiaki - Utsukushikereba Sore de Ii
Elvis Costello - Watching the Detectives
Screaming Females - I'll Make You Sorry
Let's see... I am going to lovingly and without any pressure to actually do this if you don't want to, tag: @transmantraut , @gustofwinduhdance , @stardustweare88 (and truly, ignore this if you're like "no, that doesn't seem fun") and anyone else who wants to!
3 notes · View notes
ptergwen · 3 years
Note
I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)
friends close, enemies closer
Tumblr media
ik this is cherry BUT i had to
w/c: 1.6k
warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness
a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)
-
you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.
you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.
the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.
peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.
bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.
this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.
you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.
that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.
“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”
god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.
you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.
“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.
about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.
“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”
here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.
you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”
he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.
“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”
of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…
you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.
“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.
he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.
you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”
your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.
“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”
he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?
“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”
although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.
would that be so terrible?
absolutely.
you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”
he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.
“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.
peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.
that’s a problem.
you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.
“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”
narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”
they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.
“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”
“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”
that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.
once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.
he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.
chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.
“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.
you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”
“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”
laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.
rivalry be damned.
“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”
you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.
“lead the way.”
389 notes · View notes
javierpinme · 3 years
Text
Inn Over Your Head
Tumblr media
Pairing: Contractor!Zach Wellison x f!reader
Word count: 10.3k (I know, I know. Yeesh. 👀)
Rating: Explicit (Anyone under 18 years old, go away)
Warnings: mentioning of loss of parents, slooooowwww burn, oral (f receiving), masturbation (f), existential crisis?, unprotected sex (wrap it in real life but you know fiction), praise kink (are we surprised it’s me), idiots to lovers, use of vibrator, mild angst, brief mention of reader wanting kids, sickeningly sweet fluff (I think this is it but if you see anything let me know)
Summary: “I have all these empty rooms and I’m not a terrible cook so I was thinking w-what if you…stayed here? We wouldn’t even have to see each other unless working on renovations. Not that I don’t like seeing you, but if privacy is an issue.” Jesus christ. You stammer your way to the end of your proposition and avoid staring at his face in fear of rejection. There is a pause and you try to retract what you said before you get interrupted by him gently saying your name.
A/N: I never intended to make this one shot wonder so long, but here we are. And look, before anyone says anything I am very well aware that I said that I was going to cut down which believe me I did. I really did, but I also added more so it kind of balances out. This is my first smut piece, so yeah. That’s it. This is about as self-indulgent as it gets. In my brain contractor is the job I imagine him having post his job in B&S. 🤷🏻‍♀️
AO3
Inn Over Your Head Masterlist
Masterlist
Want to be on my taglist?
***
“No, no, no. Ugh!” 
In your haste to move your kettle on the counter and boil some water for tea you accidentally knock one of the screws you had unattached from the vintage sink into the garbage disposal. All you wanted to do was see what kind of screws it would need since the screws that it currently had were a little eroded. You thought you were being proactive since you knew next to nothing about owning an inn. Closing your eyes you take a deep breath and grip the counter trying to ground yourself. You can do this, right?
You were recently single after a long-term relationship that went south. The two of you wanted different things, but it wasn’t until recently when that all came to a head. You’ve always wanted to get married, have a couple kids, and you were vocal about that. You had thought your boyfriend was on the same page as you, but when the topic of marriage came up he told you that he wasn’t on the “same level” as you which absolutely broke you because of how long you were together.
Which brings you to where you are at the current moment. You adored inns as a child; they always held some of your best memories with your parents before they passed. Every summer as a little girl you would travel to different states and you loved the historic feel that seemed to encompass within them. Whether it was the aroma of fresh pastries wafting in the air traveling to your bedroom in the morning or the fact that there were several generations before you that sat on the very same furniture as you. You felt a little lost and wished you had your parents with you to help you navigate this change in your life, but they never would be and that brought you down even more.
“Well, hardware store it is then.” One last glare at your kettle like it betrayed you and you walk out the door with the faucet in hand.
“How many different screws can one sink have?” You exasperated to no one other than your own ears.
You dig through all types of screws and none of them are fitting correctly causing your annoyance to increase. In the midst of you rolling your eyes at the situation you spot a figure in the front of the store greeting the cashier and fail to remember why you were irritated in the first place. The first feature that comes to your attention is how tall he is and the warmth of his smile when he passes by the employees. Your feet think before your brain does and move of their own accord silently following him through the aisles you definitely didn’t deem necessary to be in on any other day. You start picking up supplies only to put them back down to make yourself look less obvious about your ogling.
You can only see him from behind, but even with being covered by the navy and burnt orange plaid flannel he’s wearing you can tell his shoulders are broad. He rolls up his sleeves while grabbing what he needs and you almost moaned at the sight of the veins on his forearms. His hands are calloused as far as you can tell which means he probably does physical labor. You’ve always loved a man that can work with his hands.
An employee walks up to you asking if you needed any assistance which you politely declined and by the time she comes out of view the target of your attention is also nowhere to be found. You sigh in disappointment and make your way back to the aisle you actually needed something from. Your hands mindlessly grab the first box of screws you can find on the shelf while fantasizing about the size of his hands on how they would feel around your—
You gasp at the intrusion of your beginning to be very filthy thoughts when the subject of that fantasy comes into view from the opposite aisle and smiles at you. You blink subtly shaking your head and thank whoever is up above that there is no such thing as mind readers. The close distance between you even with the separation of shelves permits you to appreciate his prominently curved nose, his ebony eyes, and the dimples that seem to display even deeper as his smile grows when you are silent following his introduction. A chuckle breaks you out of your daydream and you ask him to repeat what he said. Your brain filters back in when he tells you his name is Zach and you return it with yours.
“Working on a home project?” He nods to the box that is sitting in your hand that you conveniently forgot about.
“U-Uh, yeah. I dropped one of the screws that at one point was attached to this faucet in my garbage disposal when trying to make tea so I’m buying replacements for it.” You stutter out holding the faucet in the air when he disappears from your peripheral leaving you confused at the interaction.
The sound of boots filter in and become louder prompting you to turn around and almost knocks the wind out of you when you realize how close he’s standing in front of you; the scent of bergamot and sandalwood overwhelming your senses. God, is this how he always smells?
“Well, let's see what we got here.” He grabs the faucet out of your hand inspecting the hole in it and eyes the box of screws in your hand while yours are focusing on how much bigger his hand is in comparison to what he’s holding. “First of all, these are completely the wrong screws for this. This is vintage. They don’t make these anymore. You’re not going to find those here.” He chuckles out which you misinterpret for teasing when you’re already a little sensitive from the events of the day.
“You know what? I think I’m capable enough that I don’t need a self-righteous know-it-all to tell me what to do.” You huff out in frustration at his picking of your unknown insecurity.
“Just tryin’ to help you out. That’s all, sweetheart. Didn’t mean any disrespect.” Zach raises his eyebrows and lifts his hands up in surrender.
“Thanks for your help, but I’m good from here.” You emphasize none too delicately pulling the faucet out of his hand and walking out the store in embarrassment empty handed.
***
“I have no idea what I’m doing, Kit. I mean I'm way in over my head with thinking that I could even do this with no experience. I can’t even pick the right fucking screws. Something so simple. My parents would be so proud.” You release a self deprecating chuckle and bury your head into your hands ignorant of the fact that there are other tables of customers trying to enjoy their meal. You feel the warmth of your friend’s fingers wrapping around your wrists to bring them back to the table.
“Hey, you’re doing a brave thing and your parents would be so proud of you for creating your own adventure on something you always enjoyed as a family. If I could help you know that I would in a heartbeat, but I might have someone to recommend. He is an absolute sweetheart. He dropped everything to help when my pipes burst. He’s a former marine and was spit out by the VA so he ended up homeless.” Your heart breaks for whoever it is at that moment, but you make a mental note not to meddle since it wasn’t your business.
“He’s not anymore but-speak of the devil. Zach!!” Kit calls out to wave him over and you momentarily freeze hoping it isn’t the same man that you snapped at at the store.
You slowly shift in your chair to face him and you feel heat cascading from your chest to your neck at the confirmation that it is indeed the same man. You spot that same warm smile pointed in your friend’s direction and you see the shift in it the moment he recognizes you, but he never breaks it which brings you an odd comfort. He was attractive in the fluorescent lighting of the store but even more so with the sun settling into night. Kit smiles at you unaware of the predicament you’re in and catches up with him while you’re trying to appear nonchalant about seeing him in front of you again. She introduces you and all you can do is squeak out a hello.
“The reason I called you over here is because she just purchased an inn and she has no idea what she’s doing. She is stressing about being in over her head and I know you have experience with doing that kind of thing so I figured I could hook you guys up.” You can’t stop the wince from forming on your face at the words your friend is repeating to the man that you were so hell bent on showing that you’re capable.
“Well, I wouldn't go that far.” You cover your embarrassment with a laugh, but it comes out unsteady.
“What do you mean? You said it yourself.” Kit narrows her eyes at your reply and repeats your words much to your chagrin.
“I thought you said that you were capable and didn’t need help from a self-righteous know-it-all. I believe those are the exact words you used.” Even with the repeating your stinging words it sounds like honey coming out of his lips. Your eyes meet his with what you now realize was teasing in a different sense than what you assumed it was in the store. Your defensive stance deflates and you can’t help the laugh that comes out. He’s poking fun at you and you start to feel a little ridiculous for your outburst.
“I….deserve that.”
Zach’s smile grows even wider accentuating that dimple again and shrugs his shoulders in mock agreement. Something about you made him want to help you and he’s trying to convince himself that it has nothing to do with how beautiful you are.
“I’ll help you. Here’s my number. Text me the address. We can do a walkthrough and make a list of anything that takes priority.” Zach grabs one of the napkins on the table and pulls a pen out of the pocket of his plaid flannel to write it down. The fragrance of bergamot and sandalwood tickling your nose again and making you yearn to know how that smell would mix with the perspiration of certain activities. An awareness hits you at the last second that has you ungracefully call out his name.
“Wait! I won’t be able to pay you.” Your voice starts wavering as you’re nearing the end of your sentence. I put everything into this.
“Well then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not expecting to get paid. Text me.” He motions to his phone and walks off. You turn around to face Kit again and she has a shit-eating grin on her face with her arms crossed in amusement.
“What was that?” She raises her eyebrows at you and you finally manage to maintain a straight face now that the physical manifestation of your awkwardness has left. “What was what?” You drink your tea to hide the obvious smile you hid behind your mug.
“Uh, that. You had a moment.” Kit points between you and the empty space where a cute brunette had resided a minute ago. You shrug your shoulders and feign innocence which makes her even more suspicious than she was before. “Okay, it was nothing. You’re paying then.” You roll your eyes and release a quiet sigh in relief at the drop of that subject.
***
You pace back and forth over analyzing a text message you had prewritten the night before to send this morning. “Personal or impersonal?” The arm holding your cellphone goes to your side and you laugh at your overthinking of such a simple task. 
So you just crank out a quick message of your address and begrudgingly tap a smiley emoji putting your phone down on the coffee table before you regret it. The ding of an incoming message goes off in the otherwise silent living room if you count the rhythmic pounding in your chest at the anticipation of his answer as silence. You try not to think about the speed at which you walked from the other side of the room to see what he said. Sounds good! I’ll drop by later today and take a look at what we’ve got ahead of us. Saving you from the total embarrassment of being overeager he also included a smiley emoji at the end of his sentence making you slightly more relaxed.
***
Consciously you know that this is not a date, but that doesn’t stop your illogical brain from changing your outfit three times in the last half hour. He’s just here for a tour of the inn and you’re working together now, kind of. This is the first male interaction you’ve had since your breakup and your heart feels like it's in hyperdrive at that. You wring your hands together waiting near the front entrance for his arrival. A knock raps against the door and you take a deep steady breath before opening it to a to-go cup of coffee with that same cute brunette attached to it.
He greets you with a soft smile and a good morning. “That was fast. Were you near the door?” He hands you the coffee and you try to hide your mortification that he noticed.
“No, I was moving some stuff around when you knocked. Thank you. I love that café. They have the best coffee in town.” You open the door wider to allow him to walk inside.
Zach clears his throat and walks inside carrying a clipboard in the opposite hand; the sound of his workman’s boots on the creaking floorboards. “You’re welcome. I wasn’t sure if you liked it since tea seems to be your preference.” You swallow a gasp at him noticing what drink you had during your second meeting. He clicks the pen he had in his pocket and immediately goes into business mode writing out future renovation projects throughout each room.
You both squeeze into the powder room and you mention that you want to replace the toilet. “I don’t want to open up with that one. I want a new one.”
“Why? It’s clearly functioning. I thought you liked historic things.” He grumbles proving his point by flushing it and raising his eyebrows in your direction.
You narrow your eyes and cross your arms bringing his attention to your chest. “Yes...I do. I’m just not comfortable with the hundreds of years of shits that took place in it. We’re getting a new one. Add it to the list.” You walk out of the tight space in defiance and effectively end the debate. You might have imagined the huff he released and you definitely missed him calling you stubborn. You walk through all the rooms within the inn skipping your bedroom since that wasn’t on your list of priorities before guests rooms and you weren’t sure if you could handle the visual of Zach standing in your bedroom with you.
You walk downstairs in silence and make your way back to the front entrance. “Well, we have a shit ton of work cut out for us. It’s not going to be easy, but I might be able to shave some additional costs where we can.” 
He must see a flash of irritation in your eyes and brings his palm up in defense. “Woah--hey. That’s why I’m here. To help you get through this. Together.” The last word a plea to understand he means no harm in his words.
A warmth fills your chest at the last word. Together. You tamp down that feeling as soon as it appears. You nod, shooting an apologetic smile his way before focusing on a scratch on the floor. “On the topic of money since as you know I can’t pay you I was thinking of some alternatives.” Your eyes finally meet his to see him shaking his head telling you it wasn’t necessary, but you insist on letting you finish your words.
“I have all these empty rooms and I’m not a terrible cook so I was thinking w-what if you...stayed here? We wouldn’t even have to see each other unless working on renovations. Not that I don’t like seeing you, but if privacy is an issue.” Jesus christ. You stammer your way to the end of your proposition and avoid staring at his face in fear of rejection. There is a pause and you try to retract what you said before you get interrupted by him gently saying your name.
“Yeah, okay. I’d have to go home and pack, but yeah.” Your heart flutters at the scene of that familiar dimple you’ve come to love directed at you.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow at 7 then?” Your voice picks up volume now that he’s given you his answer. You open the door to let him leave and he turns around saluting you with a grin. You could get used to that.
***
Like clockwork, Zach arrives at 7AM on the dot which you tease him for while helping him bring in his belongings.
"Punctuality is a virtue, sweetheart." 
You remember Kit mentioning he was a former marine, but you keep that information to yourself while directing him to the bedroom he will be sleeping in. You inform him that breakfast is just about ready and leave him to familiarize himself with his new surroundings alone.
Zach appears from the opening of the kitchen while you’re plating the french toast slices with berries. He pours the two of you mugs of coffee and you sit on the stools at the island to dig into your breakfast. At first bite your eyes widen and feel a heat rising to your cheeks at the filthiest groan Zach releases. "Damn, if this is what I get everytime you cook I will be very satisfied." Me too.
***
The both of you start to really pick up a rhythm and tackle your projects room by room. There are even some days he beats you in waking up in the morning, but his idea of a hearty breakfast is toast. You forgive that when he gives you the largest mug you own of coffee to soften the blow of his lackluster cooking skills. 
This morning you’re going to be working on the faucet that continuously haunts you and you change into a worn white t-shirt with leggings in case you’re doing any dirty work at any point in the day. It’s been spraying water erratically since yesterday when you tried to make chamomile tea for you both before going to bed.
“Alright, let's see what we got here.” Zach tinkers with the aerator and it immediately starts spitting out water at him. In the midst of his struggle to turn the faucet off he isn’t fast enough because when he eventually turns it off he is absolutely drenched. There is a silence in the room other than the sound of droplets hitting the floor before you break out in laughter at the sight before you.
“Zach, you look like a wet rat.” You put your hands on your knees and lean in a folded position losing your composure. Your stomach starts cramping and you wipe the tears in your eyes basking in the moment.
He huffs in annoyance and you hear him trying to shake off the excess water on his clothes. “You done?” You’re not even remotely done, but his tone makes you act otherwise.
“Yeah, I’m-ZACH!!” He turns the sink back on and grabs you by the waist to bring you in front of the stream in sweet revenge. You don’t even have time to react before you end up in the same state he’s in drenched to the bone. He finally turns the faucet off and you force yourself out of his arms to slap him repeatedly. 
"Now who's the wet rat?" He grabs a piece of your hair and moves it behind your ear. That tentative touch alone could have made you melt right there and then.
The boyish laugh he lets out has you beam with delight and you take a moment to admire each other before his smile falls. You furrow your brows and follow his line of sight; your first instinct should be to cover your chest but you swear you’re not imagining the swirl of lust filling his eyes. Wearing mesh undergarments today probably wasn’t your most brilliant idea. 
Your breath hitches when you follow where his eyes travel. Your lips, to your neck, and slowly returning his gaze back to your chest causing a heat to pool between your legs. Out of the corner of your eye Zach’s hand that was flat on the counter twitches as if he’s fighting the urge to touch you and he takes a step closer before stepping back to this original spot to your dismay. He shoots his face away from you; cheeks tinted red before clearing his throat and huskily speaks.
“You can go ahead and get changed. I’ll still be here fighting with it.”
You nod your head and sigh in disappointment at the broken moment before making your way back upstairs to change. You can’t figure out why he hesitated when it was clear to both of you what you wanted. You throw on a dry shirt and walk back to the kitchen hoping the awkwardness has faded.
Zach is still in the same spot messing with the faucet, but has the water shut off to avoid any more accidents. 
“We should just buy a new faucet, Zach. It’s hopeless.”
He shoots you a glare startling you when he breaks his reserved nature. “No. It’s part of the history and just because something is broken doesn’t mean they’re disposable. They deserve a second chance.”
You sense a shift in the atmosphere and you know he isn’t talking only about the faucet anymore. You slowly nod while picking at a chip on the counter and your mouth speaks before your brain has time to filter it.
“Like from when you were home-” You shut yourself up as soon as you started. You freeze hoping that he didn’t hear you, but the pause in him working on the faucet confirms that he did.
“How...how do you know about that?” His tone is as quiet as you’ve ever heard it and it breaks your heart even more to know that you’re the cause of it.
Your sharp inhale fills the room and you save yourself some time to come up with an explanation by pushing the flakes into the sink from your frantic picking. Regardless of planning out your words your voice still quivers when you speak.
“Someone told me. I’m so sorry, Zach. I was never going to mention it, but-” You never get to finish your apology when you hear the padding of his bare feet on the tile leaving the room. You turn the knob to the sink—looks like it’s fixed but you royally fucked up.
He avoids you the rest of the day by working on projects on the opposite side of the inn. There's no explosive argument. No demanding an apology for invading his privacy. You would have preferred that over the silent treatment. You deserved that. It only seems fitting to your situation when the cracking of thunder roars outside like the universe has been wronged and its demanding vengeance. I know.
***
You’re cleaning the living room area wallowing in your self pity when the flickering of the lamp catches your eye. Before you can even process the thought you can’t see anything other than the lightning in the distance through the window. Figures. The power must have gone out.
Your line of vision follows the stomping from the floor above you and a deep exhale can be heard from the man that has been avoiding you all day.
“You alright?” You can’t see him through the pitch blackness, but you know if the creaking of the staircase is any consolation he’s on his way down to you.
You blindly feel your way around to the dining room table where the candles you purchased earlier in the day to give Zach some space are located. “Yeah, I’m just going to go grab some candles.” You know he can’t see you, but you hear a grunt in approval. 
You start walking back into the living area extending your arm in the air to avoid ramming into something before you feel a hand gently grab your forearm to direct you back to him. The coffee table screeches from being shoved away and his hand smooths down to your own to pull you to the floor. His hand is so warm around yours prompting your heart to lose its stable rhythm. He lets go way too soon and you fight to shove down the whine that was crawling its way up your throat in protest. The flick of a lighter goes off illuminating the room in a soft orange glow while Zach finishes lighting the other candles. If it wasn’t so awkward it would actually be pretty romantic.
You wonder what would have happened if you had never opened your mouth; so critical of yourself over your word vomit that you don’t hear Zach saying your name. Your attention is brought back to the man in front of you and the dam breaks spilling apology after apology. His hand hovers in front of you and asks if you could politely shut up.
You shift yourself backwards to lean your back against the front of the couch and he mirrors the position next to you taking a deep breath before he speaks. “I was homeless. I was in the marines.” He lifts up the sleeve of his shirt to show you the tattoo on his right arm. 
“When I got back I couldn’t adjust to civilian life. I got diagnosed with PTSD and the VA helped for a little bit until they didn’t. It would have been easier if I had a drug problem, but I had a place to sleep problem which is how I ended up sleeping in a park.” Your heart shatters at the visual and you intertwine your fingers with his rubbing gentle circles on his knuckles in comfort.
“I mean I had to sleep with a pipe at all times because you just never knew when the next threat was going to be. I was scared. Scared of being jumped and scared of when my next meal was going to be. I’m not mad at you for bringing it up. I just...for once wanted to be someone other than that homeless guy. I didn’t want you to think of me like that.” A humorless laugh falls out of his mouth and you scooch closer until your thighs touch, leaning your head on his shoulder. 
“Zach, I would never think of you like that. I can’t even begin to imagine how scared you were. You really want to know how I see you? I see a kind hearted man that makes everyone he talks to smile. I see a man who dropped everything to help a friend with a problem and not to mention a complete stranger who definitely didn’t deserve it after certain rude comments. I see someone really brave and despite the circumstances you overcame it. That’s what I see.” You feel his head move to lay on the crown of your head and with the exhale he releases so does the tension from earlier.
You’re not sure when you closed your eyes or how long but it isn’t until Zach breaks the tranquility of the moment that you open them. “What about you? What’s your story with the inn? Since we’ve established you don’t know what you’re doing.” He flinches in pain when you pinch his side at the remark, but neither of you can stop the smile directed at the other.
“Well. The cliché story is that I’m recently single after being in a relationship for years. I thought we were both on the same page as far as marriage and kids goes, but he either changed his mind or appeased me to get me to shut up about it.” You sigh and the tear in the rug becomes really interesting until you feel Zach squeeze your hand encouraging you to continue.
This memory does actually make you smile unlike the other one. “When I was a little girl I traveled with my parents all over the country, always staying in inns. I mean, really old historic ones like this one. When my parents died I was devastated and I guess I felt like I was holding onto a piece of their memory when I bought this place. That I wasn’t completely alone because I had this.” Zach’s lips press into your head and you melt at the significance of the gesture.
“There’s this one memory I have of being in Cape May with them. I never forgot it because we stayed in what was called the “lavender room” and it was as you can probably figure out all shades of purple. Well, in this particular inn they had a clawfoot tub in the bathroom and I begged my parents to let me use it. I couldn’t get over the fact that I could use the lavender scented bubble bath in the lavender room. They wouldn’t let me and I was devastated so every trip afterwards they would bring lavender body wash to appease me when I would ask. Purple walls or not. I was a brat as a kid.”
“You got a thing for tubs?” You hear more than see the grin on Zach’s face and you hum in confirmation.
“When I bought this place and saw there was an attached bathroom to one of the rooms I was ecstatic because in the picture it had this beautiful vintage clawfoot tub. It felt like everything fit into place and then when I walked in I could see where there used to be a tub but it was an empty space so you can only imagine my disappointment.” You laugh at the memory of your mini temper tantrum at that realization.
“Sorry.” Zach rests his cheek against your temple and you bury your head into the crook of his neck.
“There are worse things. Maybe someday I’ll fulfill that dream, but it just isn’t high on our priority list right now with everything we need to get done.”
“Hm.” You bring your head up to ask him what he meant by that not realizing how close he was to you. He meets you halfway slotting his nose against yours and you stop breathing afraid that you’ll somehow break out of the trance you’re in. The silent question in his eyes asking if this was okay and you nod.
Your gaze follows his tongue peeking out to lick his lips and you raise your head to surge forward until you’re blinded by the lights turning back on. Zach’s forehead presses against your own and you grin at the devastation taking over his features even with his eyes closed. He opens his eyes and the boyish grin returns on his face at the comedic timing of it all.
“Come on.”
You blow out the candles now that you don’t need them. He grabs your hand lifting you up off the ground and presses that hand on your lower back to move you towards the stairs. There’s a comfortable stillness that you don’t feel it’s necessary to fill it in with conversation. You walk to your respective bedrooms wishing each other a goodnight before closing your door.
***
Sleep is not coming easily to you, too frustrated at the recollection of events of the day. You can’t help but laugh at the cruel joke the universe seems to be playing on you while staring at the ceiling. All the interruptions it seems to be inciting on you just when it seems like that cord of sexual tension will finally snap, the push and pull between you finally coming to a head. The only sounds heard in the room are the crickets outside now that the storm has died down and the rapidly growing thumping of your heart and core. Your brain replaying and rewriting that moment with Zach in the kitchen. What if he hadn’t stopped when he had? What if he had succumbed to the obvious desire you reflected back?
There is a moment of hesitation between you; a question before you surge forward at the same time in a bruising kiss. Zach’s tongue begs for entrance and you grant it lightly sucking his bottom lip between yours. A groan similar to that morning while eating breakfast comes out of his mouth before he presses you against the counter and the evidence of his arousal on your hip. His one hand is playing with the bottom hem of your shirt while the other wraps around your lower back; not quite reaching where he wants but respecting boundaries until he requests permission.
“Is this okay?”
Your eyes flicker between his eyes and lips; you grab his hand slowly, never breaking eye contact to move his hand under your shirt until he reaches your breast—“Yes.” He curses rolling his hips into yours squeezing your clothed breast not able to hide the grin at your responsive moan. You impatiently remove your shirt and bra baring yourself under his stare.
“Fuck, these beautiful tits. These beautiful fucking tits.” He returns his hand to your breast using his index and middle finger to pinch and pull at your nipples alternating between the two. His hips grind into yours hitting your clit just right and you’re powerless to fight the whimper crawling up your throat.
The sound of a drawer opening and frantic rustling breaks the silence in the room before you find what you’re looking for. Your soaked pussy begging for attention and you’re hopeless to ignore the ache. All you can hope is Zach is either asleep or too far away to hear the vibrating circles focusing on your clit.
Your fingers run through and pull his hair at his ministrations, his hands smoothing down your back, kneading your ass until he lifts you onto the counter. He grasps the back of your knees to spread you further allowing him space to admire the view of your breasts, smoothing his fingers up and down your thighs. You cup his cheeks and pull him back to your lips, your tongues fighting for dominance and dancing melodically all at once. 
A soft gasp breaks it when you feel Zach’s thumb circling your clit through your thin leggings creating a perfect friction. You could come on this alone until his hand moves to your waistband slipping into your panties to return to your clit rubbing those soft circles.
His middle and index finger trace down your folds to your entrance. “Fuck, you’re so wet. I want you to come for me sweetheart. I want to hear-”
You bite the back of your hand just in time to muffle the moan you let out when you come hard, maintaining feather-like strokes to prolong your high. Your heart beating erratically until you slowly come down evening out your breaths. You open your eyes to blindly find your way to the attached bathroom to clean up and crawl back into bed. Even after relief, sleep still doesn’t come easy.
***
A groan escapes you followed by a yawn while you’re making coffee the next morning. After taking care of your needs last night you only managed to sleep for a few hours before the sun was rising.
“Good morning.”
Zach lazily walks into the kitchen and you fight the giggle at the state of his sleep mussed hair. You yearn to run your fingers through it and your fantasy from last night comes roaring to the surface causing a heat to rise in your cheeks.
You clear your throat and hope he doesn’t notice your internal dilemma. “Do you want breakfast?”
He walks behind you to open the cupboard, pulling two mugs out to fill them up, shaking his head at your question. “Can’t. There’s an estate sale going on today and I thought I might see what they have to bring back here. Now that the groundwork has been laid as far as renovations we’re just about at the point where we can consider a grand opening date.”
Your stomach bottoms out at the thought of an opening date. On the one hand you’re excited because this is what you’ve wanted but on the other hand that puts a deadline on your time with Zach. You must take too long to answer because his hand rubs your shoulder blade and he’s asking if you’re okay.
You get yourself together nodding your head while turning to face him. “Okay. I guess I’ll work outside and get the garden to something you can actually stand to look at.” You hope the lighthearted tone covers the distress on your face and it seems to because he’s already on his way out the door. You had gotten used to this little domestic bubble the two of you lived in, but it wasn’t real.
***
You’ve been working tirelessly all day picking at weeds and turning soil to get prepared for planting. Zach still hasn’t returned from the estate sale so you use this time to go to the plant store for supplies. Your mind wanders to Zach while shopping. Regardless of the fact he is helping you there was never agreement of what would happen afterwards. Logically speaking you would go your separate ways, but that thought made your stomach turn.
You couldn’t deny that you’ve grown feelings for him and the close quarters certainly haven’t aided in your denial since he is there everyday. Those lingering looks and unnecessary touches when passing coffee or tea to each other often made you wonder if he feels the same. That moment you shared in the kitchen has you thinking he does unless it was just the heat of the moment. You were practically almost half naked in front of him and that puts you down a spiral of self doubt of his possible feelings for you.
You’re carrying your bags of supplies opening the front door and pause when you hear loud grunting from multiple men. You kick the door closed and you’re about to panic until you hear Zach’s voice echoing which brings you at ease. “Uh, Zach? Everything okay?”
A curse shoots out and you’re about to walk over to the stairs before you hear Zach protest. “Y-Yeah, we’re good. Just go outside and finish up gardening. We got this.” At his reassurance you start planting some of the flowers you got at the store until dark.
***
You’re sweating like a pig by the time you’re finished and just want to relax when you hear Zach opening the door calling your name. “Wow. This looks amazing. You did a great job out here.” He’s sporting a proud smile on his face and you can’t help but mirror it.
“Thanks.”
He grabs your hand to help you up off the grass while you brush off the dirt from your leggings. “Come on. I have a surprise for you.”
His hand hovers on your lower back directing you to the stairs and tells you to close your eyes. “Surprise? You really expect me to go up these steps without seeing where I’m going?”
He takes a minute to think that through and ultimately grabs your arm to help you up the steps. You want to trace your steps to figure out where you’re going, but you don’t want to ruin whatever has him so excited so you choose to instead ignore it.
The first thing that hits you is the scent of lavender overwhelming your nose and the humidity in the air. Zach permits you to open your eyes and your knees almost buckle at the sight before you in your bathroom. There’s candles strewn about on all the open surfaces and tears blur your vision at what sits in the corner in what used to be an empty space. A clawfoot bathtub.
A throat being cleared brings you back to the present and you don’t think before you crash into him with a crushing hug. “Zach…”
Zach returns your hug bringing one of his hands to rest on the back of your head stroking your hair. “I was at that estate sale and saw it. It was pretty beaten up, but we gave it a fresh paint job to match your bathroom. I-I hope you like the color. It’s no lavender, but it wouldn’t have gone with the color scheme in here.”
Zach reluctantly lets you go and rubs the back of his neck nervously when you’re not having any kind of reaction. You’re too speechless to find the words to describe how cared for you feel right now. How much he cares for you. “Thank you.”
You see how the tension in his shoulders deflates at the confirmation that he did the right thing. “Of course. You work so hard. You deserve to relax.” He tells you to get into the bath before the water gets cold and walks out.
You release a contented sigh and dip deeper into the warmth of the scented bubbles; thinking about that cute brunette waltzing into your life when you desperately needed it. You think back to your earlier self doubt, but this puts that to bed. As kind hearted as he is this wasn’t something you do for just anyone. Maybe, just maybe, he returns your feelings and you’re determined to find out. You must have been in the bath a long time in your thoughts because the water starts to cool, suddenly realizing you didn’t have a change of clothes other than what you wore before you got in. You don’t want to put your clothes back on so you have no choice—
“Zach? Can you grab me some pajamas from my nightstand? I forgot them before I got in.”
“You got it!” Zach bypasses the bathroom and walks into your bedroom shaking the picture perfect visual of you right now. The bubbles being the only thing standing between your soft skin, flushed cheeks from the steam, and—the zipper on his pants never felt so uncomfortable after opening the first drawer. Definitely not that one. Maybe someday. He desperately hopes you let him.
He clears his throat and adjusts his pants, opening the second one to grab a pair of pajamas for you, knocking on the bathroom door to let you know he has them.
“Thanks. You can bring them in.”
You hear the creak of the floorboards from him shifting his weight on the other side and then a pause. “But you’re...taking a bath. I can drop it off in front of the door.”
“The bubbles are covering me. It’s okay. You can bring them.” You find it endearing that he’s so nervous even with the wall separating you. You hear a deep exhale and the knob being turned, his head poking in while covering his eyes.
You can’t control the laugh at his expense. “I said you couldn’t see anything. That’s not necessary.”
Zach clears his throat and you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. You don’t need to see his eyes to know the cogs are turning in his head. “I’ll keep them closed.” I won’t be able to fight the urge to join you in that tub and everything that comes with it.
He feels around the bathroom to deposit them on the counter and speeds out of the bathroom.
You think you hear him mumbling under his breath but you can’t make out the words.
You go about your normal nightly routine and head downstairs to Zach making chamomile tea for you both, depositing the mugs on the coffee table in the living room. The two of you sit on the couch consciously scooting closer until your thighs touch, enjoying each other’s company in silence.
You put your mug back on the coffee table and Zach’s arm swings on the back of the couch behind you, not quite touching the back of your neck but close enough to make the hairs stand up anyway. “Thank you. No one’s ever done something like that for me.”
“Anytime. You deserve that, you know? You’ve been working so hard and I know it hasn’t been smooth sailing so you deserve a relaxing moment or two. You can put yourself first sometimes. And you know, you’re not going to be needing me pretty soon so take it while you can. The work is almost done.” Your heart drops at the implication and you decide it’s now or never. When did your mouth get so dry? 
“I-I’m always going to need you.”
Zach’s features soften at your words and you feel his fingers gently stroking your cheek, shifting to cup it. You subconsciously lick your lips bringing his attention to them and his thumb grazes your cheekbone.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.” You’re not even embarrassed at your quick answer. You think you’d say yes to anything he would ask you.
He brings your face close to him, his hot breath tickling your face, and pulls you in for a chaste kiss. He breaks the kiss leaning his forehead against yours and breathes you in. “Fuck, you smell so good.”
“It’s the bubble bath, Zach.”
“Yeah, but it’s also just you. You smelled good before you got in the bath.” You narrow your eyes playfully but if you weren’t already sitting down your knees would have given out.
“I was sweaty and dirty.” 
“It’s just the way you always smell.” You lean your elbow on the back of the couch, laying your cheek on your hand, and raise your eyebrows in false shock.
“I always smell like sweat?”
“What, no. That’s not what I mea-” He realizes you’re teasing him when he sees the smile you’re trying to hide behind your hand, forcing a laugh out of him. “You always bite back at everything I say.”
You close the distance between you with an inviting smile, a whisper away from his lips. “Yeah, but you like it.”
“I do. It’s what I like about you.” His thumb and index finger grasp your chin to pull you back in, but this one is not as chaste as the first kiss. He pulls your jaw down to open your mouth to him and licks into your mouth, massaging his tongue against yours. He releases a groan at your taste and oh—this one is so much better than what you heard in the kitchen. You use the opportunity to nip his bottom lip and he grabs your thighs to pull you into his lap; your hips straddling his until you feel his hardened bulge against your core.
You experimentally roll your hips and smile when he gasps, burying his head in the crook of your neck—his hips chasing yours. “That feel good?”
“Fuck, you know it does.”
You decide to spare him and stop your teasing to start unbuckling his belt, his lips trailing kisses on your neck before biting at your pulse point when you wrap your hand around his cock. He bucks his hips up to meet your slow strokes.
“We can’t do this here.” He whimpers when your thumb smooths over his slit to spread his pre-come and you kiss his ear, suckling his earlobe between your lips.
“Why not?”
He abruptly pulls your hand out of his pants and gently pushes you off of him. He is the perfect picture in front of you and you feel pride at the state you’ve brought him to—his chest heaving, lips swollen from your kissing, all the blood traveling to his cheeks. Well, almost. Your eyes zero in on what must be an obviously uncomfortable erection. 
“Because guests are going to sit here and I don’t think they would appreciate this as much as I am right now. Upstairs. Now.”
You somehow make it upstairs in one piece despite the fumbling of limbs and hungry kisses and your back slams against your bedroom door once you’ve made it to your destination. You lift your shirt up and throw it on the floor followed by the unclasping of your bra before that drops to the floor as well. He grabs your thighs lifting you up to carry you to the bed, his hips pressing into yours on the mattress, pressing one last lingering kiss before shifting off the bed to admire you laid out in front of him.
“You’re beautiful like this.” Even with desire crashing through your veins your heart still flutters at the sentiment, his warm hand wraps around your ankle and rubs up and down your calf.
His hand sets your nerves alight and you conjure up the sweetest smile you can muster. “Hm. Are you going to stare all night? Or-” You open the leg he doesn’t have a hold on and you know he can see the wetness through your shorts if the growl that comes out is anything to go by. 
“Or are you going to do something about this?”
He grips your ankle tighter pulling you towards the edge of the bed and the visual of him kneeling down is a sight you will never forget. His hands grip the waistband of your shorts and slowly pull them down—his eyes meeting yours in a hungry gaze once he throws them over his shoulder.
“No panties?”
You think he’s going to go straight to where you weep for him but he smiles leaning back up to give you a soft kiss on the lips—then another one and shifts back off the bed to his original position. Even in your collective lust he still manages to make your heart skip a beat at his softness.
He grabs your leg and places it over his shoulder peppering kisses up your inner thighs to where you desperately need him. Your eyelashes flutter when he places open mouthed kisses sucking what will surely be bruises you’ll wear with honor tomorrow.
He spreads your folds to reveal your clit and the first kitten lick has your back arching off the bed, the pleasure shooting through your core when he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. A raspy moan you didn’t even know you were capable of comes out and you grasp his hair pulling while your other hand grips the sheets under you to try to keep yourself grounded—needing something to hold onto or you’d float away. Not yet, not when it feels this good.
Your head shoots up of its own accord when you feel Zach’s finger circling your entrance, his eyes a question if he can continue. You nod and your head falls back down on the pillow; whimpers falling out of your mouth at the feeling of his finger finally pushing into your entrance before adding a second finger. 
You can hear the squelching from how wet you are when he pumps his fingers—in and out slightly picking up speed until he curls his fingers rubbing against that spongy spot of your pussy before pausing his ministrations. You look back down at him in frustration to him sporting a half smirk against your inner thigh.
“That feel good?”
"Shit. You..." You have half a mind to push his head back home for repeating your earlier words back to you, but you wait to be rewarded for your patience.
"You know it d-” Your words are cut off when he pulls your clit back between his lips relentlessly curling his fingers back against your walls. His teeth graze against your clit lightly and the tension in your core snaps, your walls clenching tight around his fingers. You hear a moan from below and he laps up everything you give him until you push his head away when it becomes too much.
You slowly come back down from your high and your fingers curl around the strands of his hair that had fallen over his forehead basking in your post-orgasmic bliss. Zach kisses from your navel back to your lips, pushing his tongue into your open mouth so you can taste yourself. 
“We need to take these off.” You chuckle and play with the hem of his shirt until he raises his arms up so you can lift it up, his golden hued abdomen revealing itself to you and you hear the rustling of his pajama pants and boxers being pulled down his legs to join his shirt on the floor.
You cup his cheeks and roll your hips. He gasps when his erect cock slots between your folds and he peppers kisses on your collarbone. You bring his head back to face yours, kissing his cheeks and lightly stroke his cheekbone. “You’re beautiful.”
His eyes become glassy and he attempts to shift his face to the side to break eye contact but your grip remains firm. “Even the parts you don’t like. Beautiful.”
He crashes his lips against yours pouring all his emotions into it—all the unsaid love he can give and just hope you understand. You trace your fingers starting from his brows making your way up, your nails scratching his scalp, and a release of air comes from his nose before going boneless against you—the weight of him a comfort that he’s here with you before he’s leaning up on his forearm to notch himself at your entrance. “Are you sure?”
You dig your nails into his shoulder blades and lock your ankles over his ass to push him inside. “What do you think? Yes.”
“Just checking.” That boyish grin returns to his face and only then does he slowly inch his cock into your entrance and the sheet next to your head creases from Zach gripping it in restraint—fighting the urge to push himself home all at once. God, he’s big. He rolls his hips until he’s to the hilt and you feel his pubic hair meet your pelvis. You experimentally clench around his cock and smile at the curse that he shoots out at the feeling of you.
“Fuck. Don’t. It’ll be over before it starts if you keep that up, sweetheart.” He doesn’t move—savoring the feeling of being inside of you that wasn’t in the form of his imagination.
You mouth at his ear, nipping his earlobe lightly and whisper. “Move.”
He looks down at you with a smirk calling you impatient. “Oh, shut-” You’re interrupted by your own moan when he picks up his thrusts.
“Shit, you’re so wet—so hot around me. Can you hear how your perfect pussy takes me?” He punctuates his words with hard thrusts and you’re not even embarrassed about the squelching sounds in the room your arousal leaking down to the crack of your ass. He grabs the back of your knees and pushes them towards your chest—his thrusts going even deeper than before.
“Fuck, you feel so good—so fucking good.”
You feel the softness of his hair moving down to your chest and you let out a moan when you feel his hot mouth wrap around one of your nipples, his tongue flicking around it making you arch your back in response. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your sternum before switching to your other breast but not without pinching the nipple that stands at attention for him.
You feel the tightening in your core build higher and higher but not enough to throw you over the edge. Zach must sense it because you watch him grab the back of your knees and lift your legs over his shoulders—the weight of his body leaning against the back of your thighs so he can lick his thumb—a whimper releasing from you at the lewd display of his tongue before he brings it down to your clit rubbing circles. You buck your hips to meet his thrusts as best you can with your position and your pussy clenches around him when your orgasm surges through you making you sob out his name.
“Shit. So tight. So fucking perfect for me.” His hips stutter as he tries to reach his release until you feel hot ropes of come paint the inside of your walls, his hips turning into a slow grind to ride out his high. He presses his face into the crook of your neck and his lips press light kisses on your throat. “That was-”
“Yeah.” You don’t even hide the satisfied smile that is surely taking up your whole face. You almost whine at the emptiness when Zach pulls out and lays next to you, your collective pants filling the room. You felt too sated to move so you close your eyes and listen to your slowing heartbeat.
You feel the sheets moving from under you as Zach shifts his weight. “You got one more in you?” 
“Hmm?” It takes you a few seconds to catch onto what he said, your eyes still closed when you hear your nightstand drawer open and rustling, followed by a gentle buzzing sounding in the room. He makes you come two more times after that with his fingers and the vibrator all while whispering praise into your ear of how good you feel and he’ll never get enough of how you feel when you clench around his cock. How he never wants to stop.
***
The sun delicately making itself known through the curtains wakes you up and you feel a weight on your waist. The night before comes back to you when you feel a welcomed ache between your thighs, a reminder of your activities. You trace your fingers along the arm that is wrapped around your middle and you hear a tired sigh from behind followed by a croaky good morning from Zach.
“Good morning.” He grabs your hand so he can play with your fingers and you nearly cry at the intimacy of the moment. How different everything is compared to a few months ago; a relationship that wasn’t making you happy, the loss of your parents, and the lack of purpose you felt in your life.
“Are you happy? We’re almost done.”
You release a deep sigh at the sad interruption of the moment. “Happy to be done with the stress. Not happy because I won’t have a reason to keep you here.” Zach’s fingers clasp your chin and slightly turns your face to kiss you and then kiss your shoulder.
“You don’t need one.” His response muffled by his lips still pressed against your shoulder.
You turn around in his hold and ask the question that has been plaguing you for months. “What if you stayed?”
A furrow forms between his brows and you run your thumb along it to release the tension. “What if you just worked here….with me? As partners. You could keep everything in working order and I can make french toast and we’d do it. Together.”
Zach pauses his strokes on your waist and you inwardly panic that he’s going to reject you.
“Yeah.” 
You release the breath you weren’t aware you were holding at his answer. “Yeah?” Your vision starts to blur as tears fall down your cheek and bury your head where his neck meets his shoulder.
“Together. I did do most of the work after all.” You raise your head up to fight him on that statement but you soften at the loving look in his eyes when you meet them.
“Kiss me?” The emotions you’re feeling are so overwhelming that the question just barely breaches the surface, but in the stillness of the room he hears you.
Zach’s fingers clasp under your chin to bring you close to his face—his steady breaths through his nose tickling your upper lip until your lips meet in a soft kiss. You lick at his lips requesting access and he grants it before leaning over you. You feel your soft linen sheets slide off your naked body and you open your legs to allow his hips to slot against yours—his morning erection making itself known.
“Fuck, you’re already wet for me?”
***
You’re at the front desk going through your list of errands for the day when you feel a presence behind you and a kiss on your neck. “All booked?”
You tilt your head up to allow him to continue his ministrations and your cheeks begin to hurt from how wide your smile is. “Almost. Just one more empty room so we’ll see how today goes.” You turn around and give him a chaste kiss on his lips; a contrast to the assault he did on your neck seconds ago.
You grab his shoulder and push him away from the front desk but not before delivering a slap on his ass. “Now get back to work, Wellison.” He salutes you with a grin and turns to leave to deal with whatever needs fixing. You never did get used to that.
You hear the door chime and you turn to face your possible customers with a genuine smile. “Good morning! Welcome to-“
Taglist: @pedros-mustache @sharkbait77
361 notes · View notes
companionjones · 4 years
Text
Against The Wall
Fandom: James McAvoy
Pairing: James McAvoy x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Slight!Insecurity 
Author’s Note: This is my first smut. It’s taken me forever to write one, and this is the first successful of many tries. Hear me out, it’s technically based on the episode of SNL that McAvoy hosted. I don’t know why. I meant to write the smut part of this first, then the regular part where they meet and get to know each other and stuff, then post them in reverse order. But, the thing is, I don’t feel like writing the other part. So you’re just getting the smut. This takes place at the SNL afterparty that week, or at least it starts there. Enjoy. Also, if you’re my friend in real life reading this, I am very uncomfortable right now.
Tumblr media
*******
    “What do you say we get out of here?” James parted from you, breathless.
    Your whole face warmed up. “O-okay...”
    James smiled then, and leaned back in to kiss both your cheeks, then your lips once more.
    The two of you exited from the back. As soon as you were out of sight of others, James pinned you against the brick wall of the alley. He started kissing you again. You could feel him inhale against your skin.
    “James...” you breathed. You meant to sound less desperate than you did.
    “I love how you say my name.” He separated from you just enough to tell you. “So breathless and sweet and...fuck.”
    You couldn’t help but moan at that...but the two of you were in an alley. “James?”
    His hands had ventured down, and he had started squeezing your thighs. He parted from you, though. “I know, I know. We should take this to an actual bed.” He had walked a little away from you, and a smirk grew on his lips once he got the full view of you.
    Breathless, lips swollen and red, you were leaning against the wall for support.
    He continued, that smirk still present, “I couldn’t help myself though.”
    As your heart hammered in your chest, you looked him and down, too. His bulge was prevalent in his pants, and it was also obvious that James wasn’t taking his eyes off you any time soon. Your body seemed to have used permanent marker to keep that smirk on his lips for good.
    “We can keep going here, if you want,” you offered. “It wouldn’t be my first time, outside like this.”
    His breath got caught in his throat. His gaze wandered over you once more. “Don’t go saying things like that to me right now.”
    “I’m serious,” you held.
    James stepped back to you. He wasn’t touching you again, not yet. “I want this to continue, though. Outside of this. You and me. I want you to know that.”
    You should’ve guessed before then, but surprise still flashed in your eyes. Your gaze was fixed on his lips. Your own mouth twitched up at the same time. “Yeah?”
    “God, yes.”
    A full smile started to grow on your lips, but you interrupted it by kissing him again.
    James pulled away again though and bought himself just enough time to ask, “Are you su--”
    “Yes,” you answered before he could finish, and captured his lips again.
    In reply, James moaned lowly, and you were sure your legs would’ve given out had he not been pressing you against that wall again.
    James didn’t waste time after that. Swiftly, he reached under your skirt to discard your underwear before he came back to cup your face with both his hands. With his left hand, he tugged the hair at the back of your head for a moment before his hands slid downward. In their journey, they cupped your breasts as well before hooking to the back of your thighs. “Jump, darling,” he whispered just as he captured your lips again.
    You did as he said, he caught you, and James pinned you even further against the brick.
    “God, darling,” he moaned against you. “I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” James finished with a giddy smile. His lips barely had enough time to form those phrases when they weren’t against yours.
    You smiled, too. You teased, “I’ve waited longer,” and that earned you a deep chuckle.
    James moved his hips against your for what was definitely not the first time that night, and both of you moaned.
    James undid his belt and jeans, and suddenly something was even more obvious than it was before. He teased his dick against your folds, and a few more moans slipped from his throat.
    “Are you gonna fuck me, or wha--”
    His cock slid in, and the sounds the both of you made were louder than anything that had left your lips yet.
    “So tight, so fuckin’ tight,” James commented, almost desperate.
    “...Baby...I’m just gonna need a second. Fuck, you’re huge.” Your voice broke on the last word.
    James passed the time by nipping and sucking behind your earlobe, then where your neck met your shoulder, then he made his way to the symmetrical side of you.
    “Baby?” you called after a couple of minutes.
    “Yes, darling?” He leaned away from you so he could catch your eyes. A teasing smile was playing at your lips.
    You flashed your own smile in return. “Move.”
    “Of course.” He went to kiss you again, but a sigh left his lips before he could. James slowly moved his dick out of you, then slid it back in.
    “Fuck, James...” you breathed.
    “You’re perfect, darling.” He captured your lips again, and another needy moan sounded from his throat.
    After a few tentative thrusts, you broke the kiss again. “James? Baby, I need you to move faster.”
    James obeyed your words and started speeding up. Soon, his hips were snapping against yours at lightening speed.
    You whimpered at almost every thrust. How could you not? James’ moans were louder than yours, but his were farther between.
    He made up for it by whispering breathless, sweet nothings to you, including but not limited to... “You feel amazing, darling...So good...So fucking good...God fucking dammit, I don’t know how long I’m gonna last...This is perfect...You’re perfect, darling...”
    Eventually, James bit your neck and sucked with a force that was almost painful. “Fuck. Darling, I’m gonna cum soon.” Him biting at your neck was him trying to hold himself off.
    You bracingly kissed him, and informed, “I’m close too, baby.” You could feel the coil tightening in your stomach, and your cunt must’ve been getting tighter too because James was having trouble holding himself together.
    “Fuck, fuuuck.” His thrusts were getting sloppy, but he was trying his best not to slow down. James’ fingers started digging in under your thighs where he was holding you up.
    How much effort he was putting into not cumming before you turned you on even more. That, on top of the feelings of his cock sliding in and out of you and his arms holding you close did you in.
    Right before, you suddenly noticed that you had been so caught up in the act that you had your eyes shut most of the time. You wanted to look into James’ eyes as you came.
    Your hands had been resting on his shoulders and grabbing onto his shirt most of the night, but you brought your hands to the sides of his face to bring it in front of yours. “James,” you alerted him.
    He had his teeth gritted and his head was on your right shoulder because he was still holding himself off for you. When you brought him to look at you, his mouth fell open as soon as he met your eyes because as soon as he did that, you were cumming.
    “Jesus Christ,” he cursed, his eyes going out of focus as he snapped his hips against yours one last time. He shuddered, and finally spilled himself inside you. His cum came out in three bursts, then James let out a small, gratified moan and leaned his forehead against yours. His eyes slid shut again. “You were fucking spectacular, Y/n.”
    You chuckled at that, and kissed him again.
    After a few more moments, James pulled out of you. He let you down, and you put back on your underwear.
    After that though, James pressed you against that brick wall again. He kissed you once more. “I was serious about this continuing. I want to see you again. Preferably in a restaurant and not in an alleyway.”
    You laughed again, and kissed him again. You wouldn’t complain if that pattern stuck for the rest of time. After you parted from him again, and your gaze was on his lips, you licked your own. Your smile faded to a look of slight insecurity. You met his eyes again. “You sure?”
    He smiled in such a comforting way, it made your heart swell. “Darling,” he told you, “I haven’t been this sure about something in a while.”
    You couldn’t help but grin at that, and you couldn’t recall a time in which you were happier.
    James’ gaze trailed down to your lips again, and he pulled you in for another kiss. His hand that wasn’t holding yours was tangled in your hair, and his smile had not left when the two of you broke the kiss.
    “You wanna come back to my apartment?” you offered, “Maybe round 2 in an actual bed?”
    “Your place?” A different smile was playing at his lips then, as if him being in your apartment was a step forward in intimacy.
    You realized that it was. You didn’t back down. “Yeah. My place.”
    James brought your hand that he was holding to his lips. “Lead the way, darling.”
    That, you did.
*******
Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! I can’t believe I finally wrote my first smut! I hope you liked it. Fill up that heart and reblog if you did. If you have the time, I would also really appreciate a comment. If you would like to read more, I have more fics over on my page. You should check it out. Thanks again! Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3
643 notes · View notes
please-buckme · 3 years
Text
A Broken Heart.
Chapter 1
Lee Bodecker x fem!reader
Tumblr media
Chapter warnings: slight mentions of sex, 18+,hitting, sad shit, break up, heart break, angst, cursing
Chapter Summary: reader and Lee breakup.
Masterlist
Series Masterlist
Chapter 2 //Chapter 3
Tumblr media
The world felt as if it were shattering around you, crumbling beneath your feet like the rapture was upon you. Honestly, if the world did come to an end right now you’d be elated. At least you wouldn’t have to deal with your broken heart anymore.
You sat against a wall in your room, wallowing in your own self petty. It’d be three days since Lee Bodecker had broken things off with you. He had said that you were hurting his campaign, that he still loved you but needed a woman of power to help him become sheriff of this godforsaken town.
Lee had taken you out in the same field he took you to every time y’all made love. He kissed you so passionately, held you so closely. If you weren’t so caught up in the way his hands felt against your bare skin, you would’ve noticed how distraught he was the entire time he made love to you. It was his way of saying goodbye before he actually said goodbye. After he’d broken up with you, you felt disgusting and violated.
You’d never felt like that with Lee. He was your deputy and sinner in disguise. He was your rock and your soft place to fall. When the tears finally fill, the most empty feeling you’d ever felt emerged in your gut. One day you thought you were gonna be Mrs. Lee Bodecker. You daydreamed constantly of your wedding day and sharing a bed with the man you loved for the rest of your life ‘til you were old and gray. To know now that dream will always remain a dream.. that’s what hurt the most.
After Lee drove you home, you sat in your room for three days straight, not even coming out for supper. Your momma tried to convince you to eat and it worked once on the second day, until you threw up right after.
She didn’t understand. She’d never been in love, not really. Not love like you and Lee had. People told y’all all the time how rare and beautiful your love for one another was and you agreed. Just looking back on those memories made you sick. You listened in awe of how beautiful your love was not knowing Lee would only break your heart days later.
Today was Sunday, the lord's day, and usually you never wanted to go to church, but today you really didn’t want to go. The whole town, including Lee and his new arm candy, would be there. It’s the first time you’d be seeing Lee since he dropped you off. It was too soon, especially since you knew he’d already moved on.
As you sat with your head between your knees, your momma barged through your bedroom door.
“Jesus, girl. Why aren’t you up and ready to go? Church starts in an hour and you aren’t gonna make me late again.” She stomped over to your closet and shuffled through your dresses.
“Momma.. I- I’m not ready. I can’t see… him with her. I just ain’t ready for that kinda humiliation.” You sighed, trying to reason with your Bible-thumpin momma.
“Oh, no. You’ve embarrassed me enough this week. Disappearin’ for three whole days over a boy? You’re pathetic. You know, back in my day, we didn’t get to sit around and sulk the days away. No. We had to carry on like everything was fine and that’s what you’re gonna do. Now, get dressed.” She threw you a dress, one of your favorites actually. It was a teal blue, babydoll dress that you usually saved for special occasions, but you weren’t feeling very special at the moment and now you were just pissed off.
You stood and came face-to-face with your momma, “I’m not going. You have no idea how I feel. You can’t. You’ve never felt love the way we had it, Momma. No one ever loved you or me the way I love Lee. You couldn’t possib-“
Just then you felt a sharp sting against your cheek as your momma slapped you across the face.
“Not. Another. Word. You will be dressed and waitin for me at the car in ten minutes. No poutin’ and no sulkin’ in the pews. I don’t wanna hear another word about that boy.” She turned to exit your room but turned around to give you one last dig to the heart, “And, honey, a man in love would never have done what he did to you. Remember that next time you wanna preach to me about love.” With that she left your room. Your cheek still stung from the unexpected hit to the face. Your momma was cruel but she’d never hit you before.
The slap, in a way, was kind of refreshing. For a split second you’d totally forgotten about Lee. Only for a second, though. His crystal blue eyes and cheshire lips never leave your thoughts completely. You shook your head in defeat, trying to erase him from your mind. It didn’t work, but you took a deep breath and began getting ready.
//
The church parking lot was full when you and your momma pulled in. Rickety old trucks to brand spankin new, brightly colored cars littered the dusty lot. You spotted Lee’s car immediately, thankfully he was already inside.
The whole town came to this church, which wasn’t that many people. Nevertheless, everybody knew everybody and, even if you didn’t care, everybody knew everybody’s dirty laundry. Old Man Karl got pulled over last week for a DUI, Nancy from the library cheated on her husband with his brother and.. oh yeah, Lee Bodecker dumped his long time girlfriend for the mayor's daughter.
Lee and yours breakup was the talk of the town. You were the fresh, new gossip in this boring as hell town and there’s nothing you could do about it.
You couldn’t get two steps into the church without being bombarded by women you didn’t want to know but also knew too much about, asking if you were alright and that they’d pray for you on this ‘beautiful, glorious Sunday morning’. Yeah, same shit different day, different person.
One woman stayed to chat with your momma, so you went to find your seat. Your usual spot was next to Lee and naturally that’s where you headed, only to be greeted by Lee and His new girlfriend, Laura-Jean Mancon. She was one of those girls who’d been pretty her whole life. Blind hair, blue eyes and a huge rack. Everybody thought she’d go into modeling or start an acting career but she never did. Instead, she stayed and was now going to marry Lee. In your eyes, that’s the best path she could’ve taken. You’d take her place any day.
“Mornin’ Y/n.” Lee cleared his throat, unable to make eye contact with you.
“L-“ You went to say his name but found you couldn’t. It was only one syllable, only three letters and it pained you to even think about, let alone say aloud. You cleared your throat, “Laura-Jean, nice to see you again.”
Laura-Jean said nothing in return. She just hummed, waiting for you to talk away.
“I guess I’ll go.. find me a new seat.” You took a deep breath when you felt the tears welling up in your eyes, again. Lee stared straight forward the whole time you stood there, too cowardly to even look you in the eyes. Some Sheriff he’ll be.
You scanned the crowd of people and found your momma in the front row, of course. You made your way up the aisle and took your seat next to her. The chorus sang their hems and the preacher clapped his way in on the last versus.
“How are we doin’ on this fine Sunday mornin’?” he drawled to the crowd. He got an assortment of greetings in return.
“I said ‘HOW ARE WE DOIN ON THIS BRIGHT N’ SHINY SUNDIE MORNIN’?’.”
“GOOD” the people shouted in return. You could hear Laura-Jean giggling over something but you wouldn’t dare look back. Lee always made church bearable, making wise cracks at the preaches expense.
“Now, today I’d like to talk a little bit about love. Of course, we’re always talkin’ about love when it comes to our lord and savor, Jesus Christ. But just for a moment, it ain’t about him. No. This mornin’ I’m preachin’ to you about young love.”
Here we go.
“It comes and goes so fast, but when you have it, it’s one of the most beautiful things this world can offer you.. especially when you put a little Jesus in it.” The church laughed. You knew where this was going. Your stomach churned as you sunk down into the pew.
“I’d like to ask the newly engaged folks in the crowd to come and join me up here. You know who you are, soon to be Mr. and Mrs. Lee Bodecker.”
Your heart felt as if it were going to explode, a tear escaped through your lashes and you quickly wiped it away.
They walked up hand in hand, smiling for cheek to cheek. How could he be so happy, so calm after only being broken up for less than a week? Did he ever love you? Really love you. Like you loved him. Obviously not because you could never, in good conscience do this to him. You couldn’t stand on a stage wrapped arm in arm with another man while Lee sat, just as you were now, devastated and totally distraught.
“So tell us,” the preach beamed. “When’s the big day.”
Lee looked at you with a pained expression as Laura-Jean answered the preach.
“May 21st”
Your breathing heavies at the reply. Turning to your momma you whispered, “Momma, that’s in two weeks.”
“I know that. Now, hush.” She side eyed you with a full smile still pressed to her lips. Even your own mother didn’t seem to care about your feelings. You sat there, listening to Laura-Jean go on and on about their ‘big day’. Tears streamed down your face and you let them. You’d given up on trying to hide how hurt you really felt. When you looked up, Lee stared straight at you. He wasn’t crying but his pain ridden face told you everything. One look at him and you couldn’t breathe anymore. You stood abruptly, all eyes were on you and Laura-Jean had stopped talking.
“I- excuse me.” You said before booking it out the back door. Lee hollered out, asking you to wait. It was too late. You were half way out the door and couldn’t stand to be in that room for another second.
Your feet stomped against the grave, dust clouding up in your wake as you made your way to the road.
“Y/n!” Lee called out after you.
“Go away. I have nothing to say to you, L- fuck.” You cursed, trying desperately to get away from him.
“I said wait, goddammit.” He growled, capturing your bicep in his large hand.
“Let go of me!” You whined sounding out of breath.
“Not until you listened to what I have to say.”
“What, Lee? What could you possibly have to say?”
“I- I.. dammit. I know I put you in a tough position but-“
“A tough position?” You repeated.
“Let me finish.” He sighed and released your arm from his grasp, “I know I hurt you. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am, but, doll, this is it. This is my only chance at becoming Sheriff. You know how hard I’ve worked to get here and you’ve always been so supportive of my dream. I- I just thought.. out of everyone you would understand.”
Your skin burned as you imagined smoke blowing from your ears. Did he really just say that? That you should understand the break up and go on with your life like nothing happened like he is? You stood there frozen, breathing heavier and heavier as your brain tried to come up with a coherent response while trying to also remain a lady.
“I- I still love you. You know that, right?” He asked, bringing a hand to your cheek and wiping a stray tear away.
You flinched at his burning touch and slapped his hand away, “Don’t touch me. Don’t you ever touch me again. I don’t love you anymore. I can’t love you. Shit… seeing you was the best part of my day and now I can’t even look at you without feeling like my heart is being ripped out of my chest. I can’t even say your name anymore. Everything about you, now, fills me with so much pain and dread. So if that’s what your love is, keep it. I don’t want it anymore.”
“Doll,” A tear ran down his cheek, you now being the one who’s breaking his heart. “I never meant to hurt you. I swear.” He sniffles.
“Well, you did. I’m in so much pain.” You sobbed, “I’m in so much pain and I have no one to go to because you were my person. You have left me completely empty and utterly alone.”
“Y/n, I-“
“Save it, Bodecker. I’m done talking to you.”
Lee didn’t chase after you this time. He let the tears stream down his face as he watched you walk away. He was just as heartbroken as you but couldn’t show it., not when he was so close to winning this election. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and headed back towards the church. He knew you just needed time and that he’d still see you around town.
Seeing you today took his breath away. You wore your favorite dress that he bought you for your birthday so long ago. You didn’t have on any makeup, which he loved. You were so naturally beautiful and he did still love you with every piece of his shattered heart. He’d eventually come up with a plan to get you back, but for now he would respect your space.
//
Once you’d gotten home and shut the door, you couldn’t help but scream at the top of your lungs. Hoping for some sort of release from all this heartache you felt. Telling him you couldn’t love him was the hardest thing you ever had to do. You sat on the floor in the same position you were in before you left; head between your knees and sobbing like a baby.
There was no escaping him in this town. There was church and the grocery store and the diner you worked at part time. He was everywhere. He’d come in every morning you worked to have coffee with you. He had been a part of every little thing you do in your daily routine for as long as you can remember.
There was never a time you weren’t together. It was always just you and him. He was the one who held you when you were sad, but where was he now when you needed him most?
To you, there was only one way to fix this; get the hell out of here. Completely leave town and start anew somewhere else. You have an aunt that lives right outside of town. You can stay there until it doesn’t hurt anymore.
Wiping the tears from your eyes, you got up. Your aunt agreed to the plan and said you could stay with her for as long as you needed when you called her. You packed a small duffle bag and waited for her to pick you up.
When she did finally pull up out front, you hopped in the car and she drove off, leaving the dusty ole town you called home for so long. You took in a deep breath as you drove towards your new life. No Lee, no momma, no worries.
Tumblr media
Dividers by: @firefly-in-darkness
Taglist: @haydens-moles , @c00lkidvibes , @tcc-gizmachine , @buckysm3talarm , @gogolucky13 , @cryptidcasanova , @heavenlyseb , @writersbuck , @teddy-bearbaby , @bbmommy0902 , @sweetllamaparadise , @thereblogcrusader , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @frostbytebaby , @jessyballet , @emotionallyandphysicallydone , @sarge-barnes-sir , @generalbagelcookieslime
(Dm me to be added to taglist)
404 notes · View notes
the-iceni-bitch · 3 years
Note
Natalieeeeee💕💕💕💕💕 Congratulations on 3K again🎉🎉🎉😘😘😘😘 I spun the horny wheels and I got
Kink: Hickey/Biting & Marking fetish
Character: Colin Shea
Prompt: “I want you to walk in front of me so I can see your ass.” & “I want it to hurt.”
Akdbeudhchss Take your time Queen!!!! I'm very excitedddd😆😆😆🙈🙈🙈💕💕 and this is such a fun idea!!!!
Oh my god Christy!!!! Some adorable Colin being a little subby? Yes please!!
Smut (light dom/sub aspects, m receiving oral sex, anal play, cum play) no minors!!!!
tagging @wayward-blonde because I know she’s been dying for some Colin smut!
Tumblr media
You might have had too many shots.
Going out with Colin and the band was always a good time. His friends and your friends got along great, and the group dynamic always served to make the awkwardness you two felt after sleeping together feel a little less prominent.
Except when you got drunk. Which you were. And all you wanted was to devour that slutty himbo until he couldn’t remember his own name (because whiskey really brought out your dom side).
“More drinks, or should we close out and hit a club?” Colin was only a little tipsy, but he had seen the way you’d been eyeing him and it was making him slightly nervous.
Everyone voted for one more round and then the club, so you and Colin started staggering towards the bar to order more cocktails.
“Jesus Col, who gave you the right to look that fucking good in those jeans?” Yeah, the whiskey was definitely hitting you hard, but whatever. “I want you to walk in front of me so I can see your ass.”
“Y/N, fuck!” You had maneuvered behind him and were now gripping his ass while you buried your face in his neck, nipping softly as the curve of his shoulder before rolling his earlobe through your teeth. “Honey, shit, you really want to do this right now?”
“Yeah.” You wrapped your arm around him so you could grab the bulge at the front of his pants. “Baby, c’mon, I just wanna suck that pretty cock of yours.”
“Ok, damn, let’s go to the bathroom.” He somehow managed to wind an arm around your waist and started to guide you away from the bar, but your lips were still on his neck and it was making it hard for him to concentrate on walking.
The two of you stumbled into the private bathroom and as soon as the lock clicked you were slamming him against the door and sinking your teeth into his neck while you worked at undoing his fly. Those noises he was making for you had you practically soaking through your panties as you started licking and biting and sucking your way down his torso.
“Ow, baby, Jesus!” You were finally on your knees in front of him and sucked a deep bruise against his hip before yanking his boxer briefs down and digging your teeth into his thigh. “You trying to eat me? I mean, it’s ok, I kinda want it to hurt.”
“I just think,” you continued biting and mouthing at his thighs and hips while staring at him through your lashes. “You look even prettier,” your mouth was so close to his cock, it was killing him. “With my marks all over you.”
He may have been thinking about answering you, but then your lips were wrapped around his tip and every thought flew out of his brain. The moan that fell from his lips was obscene when you hummed around him, your tongue swirling around him before you took him even deeper and his head thumped back against the door. 
Somehow, you managed to shuffle even closer to him, your hands rubbing over his thighs before curling around his hips and gripping his ass while you swallowed him down your throat. Colin yelped when you gave him a smack after licking a thick stripe up his cock and gulping down air then drawing him into your mouth again.
“Oh, fuck, honey!” His hips jolted into your face when you slid your hand between his cheeks, slowly teasing your fingers over his pretty hole while you suckled gently at his tip. “Ah, oh my god!”
“Wou deed to wewax.” Your words were still muffled when you shoved his cock into your cheek, smirking at him through your lashes then taking him down your throat one last time.
A thin wail rose from his throat when you slipped your middle finger inside him and immediately stroked that spot within him that made him see stars. You grinned around his cock when he rolled his hips into your face, laving your tongue over his base until you felt him twitch at the back of your throat.
He let out a choked whine when you pulled him out just enough that he was spilling his hot, thick cum between your lips until it was leaking out of the corners of your mouth. Seeing you on your knees with his spend dribbling over your chin did something to him, making him sag back against the door as his heart fluttered in his chest. You were like some kind of dream.
“C’mere.” You giggled when he drew you to your feet, leaning your head back to let him kiss his cum off your face while he drew your skirt up around your waist. “Don’t we have a rule about reciprocation?”
398 notes · View notes
drabbles-mc · 3 years
Text
Homecoming
Juice Ortiz x F!Reader
Request by Anon: What if reader was pretty much best friends with Tara, as well as related to a Son, and was with her and Margaret when Salazar kidnapped them. Tries to fight them off initially, but get's shot in a non fatal place, and when Juice finds out - their secret relationship gets out. Open to interpretation, etc.
Warnings: language, mentions of blood/injuries, hospitals
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N: Did I get a little carried away with this? Perhaps. But I think it came out alright. Totally tweaked canon a little bit for my own self-indulgent needs lmao. Hope you enjoy!!
Join my group-chat here: (X) ​
SOA Taglist: @garbinge​​ @masterlistforimagines​​ @adela-topaz-caelon​​ @mijop​​ @chibsytelford​​ @xladymacbethx​​ @i-just-read-stuff​​ @kkim120​​ @multiyfandomgirl40​​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​​ @toni9​​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​​ @mayans-sauce​​ @shadow-of-wonder​​ @punkgoddess-98​​ @paintballkid711​​ @black-repunzel99​​ @lexondeck​​ @jitterbugs927​​ (If you want to be added just let me know!)
Tumblr media
“You really don’t have to come with us,” Tara reassured you as you descended the hospital steps with her, Margaret walking a few strides ahead to give you a false sense of privacy.
“I know. But you should have family there—not that Red’s not great,” you nodded towards Margaret who shook her head slightly at your comment.
“You can’t tell Jax, alright?”
The first comments that popped into your head weren’t the ones you should say. Truthfully you felt it deep in your gut that Tara was making the right decision on this, but you didn’t want to say that in the wrong way. The VP might’ve been your brother’s best friend, and your best friend’s partner, but you had never let those sentiments cloud how you viewed him. You gave yourself a moment as you nodded, “I know. I won’t.”
“Thank you.”
You climbed into the back seat of the car, allowing Tara to drive and Margaret to ride shotgun. You liked observing their whole dynamic, anyway—it was funny how quickly things changed. As you listened to the two of them talking in the front seat, you found yourself toying with the chain around your neck. Without thinking any better of it you lifted it from underneath your shirt and ran your finger over the ring that hung at the end of it.
Your eyes met Tara’s as she looked at you in the rearview mirror and you instantly clasped your hand over the ring, hurriedly tucking it back into your shirt. The look on her face let you know that there was going to be a conversation about it later, and you were already kicking yourself over it.
As you were about to speak up and try and bring up a new topic of conversation, someone ran into the back of the car. It didn’t feel like it was bad enough to do any real damage, but all three of you still got out to check both cars and make sure that the other driver was alright.
The young woman who got out of the car looked vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place why. There was something about her, though. You hung back, letting Tara and Margaret do most of the talking. You saw that there was someone sitting in the passenger seat of the car, but they must’ve been fine if the woman talking to Tara didn’t make mention of them.
“Hey…” the woman’s voice shifted slightly as she looked Tara over, “You’re Jax Teller’s girl, aren’t you?”
Tara’s body visibly tensed and so did yours. Conversations that started like that never went well. She cleared her throat, “I…I’m…um, yea. Who…who are you?”
She nodded towards the passenger door of her car as he swung open, “I’m his girl.”
Salazar stepped out, gun pointed directly at Tara. Margaret screamed as she held her hands up and you cursed under your breath as you tried to figure out exactly what was happening here. “Up against the car!” he ordered, gesturing with his gun, “All three of you!”
By this point Luisa had taken out her own weapon and the two of them were searching the three of you. They did Tara and Margaret first, and you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face when you saw the ink that covered the hospital administrator’s back. It was certainly something that warranted a discussion when things weren’t falling apart anymore.
Luisa was patting you down, gun pressed between your shoulder blades, “Not many places for you to hide anything,” her snide remark about your outfit rolled off your shoulders—you had thicker skin than that.
“Then can you hurry the fuck up please?” you huffed, “Shit’s digging into my spine.” You could feel Tara’s and Margaret’s eyes on you even though you were looking up at the sky, begging you to not make the situation worse.
“Hey,” she pressed it harder into your skin, “You better watch it.”
You could tell by the feeling of her breath on your neck that she was leaning in close. Mumbling a few curse words under your breath, you threw your elbow backwards and cracked her in the nose, sending her stumbling back a few steps. She swore, spitting the blood out that had dripped into her mouth.
Salazar was too busy shoving Tara and Margaret into the car to see what had happened, all he heard was Luisa’s voice as she struggled with you, trying to prevent you from getting the gun from her. When you realized just how close your face was to hers, you leaned back and quickly brought your head forward, slamming into hers. The sound of your foreheads colliding was louder than you thought it would be, and the impact and the pain caused her to stumble backwards, dropping the gun in the process. You were reaching down to get it when you heard a gunshot go off. There was a sharp pain in your side, and when you looked down you saw blood starting to seep through the fabric of your tank top.
Luisa took advantage of the chaos of the moment to grab the gun back. She had it pointed directly at your head when Salazar grabbed her and pulled her back towards the car, “Leave her!” he snapped, “She’s done anyway.”
It all happened so quickly, and before you knew it they were peeling off with Margaret and Tara in the car. You were trying to focus on your breathing as you attempted to figure out what the fuck you were going to do next. You didn’t want Salazar to be right, but if you didn’t figure something out very soon, you were definitely going to be done.
You managed to pull yourself back to the car, blindly reaching around on the floor for your phone. You let out what you could of a sigh of relief when your fingers curled around the tiny burner flip phone.
Dialing one of the few numbers you knew by heart, you waited for him to pick up. After a few agonizingly long rings, you heard your father’s gruff voice on the other end of the line, “What’s going on?”
“I need you to come get me. Fast. And bring the fucking van,” you winced as you tried to put some kind of pressure on your wound.
“What happened? Where are you?”
“Just, get here. Please,” you rattled off your location before hanging up. You leaned back against the tire of the car and waited, hoping that Piney would get there fast.
Light-headed was an understatement as the van whipped up, Tig and Kozik immediately leaping out of the back of the van. Piney climbed out of the driver’s seat, and for the first time in a very long time you saw him looking worried.
“Well, don’t look at me like that,” you tried to laugh but you couldn’t quite swing it, “Makes me feel like I might be in some kind of trouble.”
“Jesus Christ,” Tig was carefully trying to lift you up to get you in the van, “What the fuck happened?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Piney snapped, shaking his head, “We need to get her to a hospital.”
“No!” you and Tig both responded in unison. You shook your head, “Hospital means cops.”
“No hospital means a morgue,” Kozik piped in, siding with Piney, “We gotta get you to a doctor,” he paused for a beat, “We’ll say it was a random drive-by. We’ll figure it out.”
Piney nodded in agreement, “We’ll get her to the hospital,” he turned to Kozik, “Take care of the car.”
He nodded, “On it.”
You didn’t have the strength to argue with them about it. You were leaning completely onto Tig as he tried to get you situated in the back of the van. You could hear him and Piney talking but none of it was really sinking in with you.
You didn’t remember passing out on the ride to the hospital, but you must have. The lights in your room were almost blinding as you came-to. With a groan you tried to shield your eyes as they opened.
“She’s awake,” your father’s gruff voice came from your bedside.
You turned and looked over at him, managing a smile, “Small miracles, huh?”
“You need anything?” when you shook your head, he switched gears completely, “What the hell happened?”
You went to try and reposition yourself so that you were sitting more upright, but it hurt too much. You resigned yourself to your current position as you started to explain what had happened. About halfway through your story Tig walked into the room, and when he heard who it had been you could practically see the blood boiling in his veins. He stepped back out of the room to call Kozik. You had no idea how they were going to handle the situation, but you knew that they would.
“Cops come by?”
He nodded towards the door, “Paperboy has been waiting out there since the call went out over the scanner.”
“Jesus Christ,” you shook your head, “Doesn’t that guy ever take a fucking vacation?”
Piney chuckled, “No,” he paused, “You alright here?”
You nodded, “Yea, yea. Fuck, I’ll be good. Go help them with Tara. I’m as safe here as I’ll ever be with the Deputy Chief out there.”
It got a tiny smile out of him, glad to see that you were feeling as alright as could be expected. He rose from his seat and pressed a kiss to your forehead, telling you to call for anything at all before walking out. You saw the look that he gave Hale as he walked by and you tried not to laugh, mostly because it hurt to do so.
“How’re you feeling?” he asked you as he entered the room.
“Like I got fucking shot,” you smiled at him, “How are you feeling, Deputy?”
“I’ll feel better when you tell me what happened,” he looked you over, “Your dad said it was a drive-by. Wrong place, wrong time.”
You nodded, “Sounds about right.”
He raised his eyebrows slightly, “Does it?”
“Mhm. I really, I really don’t know what to tell you, Dave,” you saw him cringe at the way you said his name like that, “I guess I’ve just got some shit luck.”
He sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to divulge anything to him unless you absolutely had to, “Well. If you change your mind, think of anything else, you know how to reach me.”
“I sure do,” you flashed him a smile, “Thanks, Officer.”
When the door shut behind him, you let out a quiet sigh. You looked beneath the thin fabric of your hospital gown to check out the bandages that were on your side and stomach. As you were looking, your doctor came in and started explaining everything to you. For the most part you listened, but your mind wandered as your fingers found their way back to the chain around your neck. Once they told you that you were going to be alright, that it was through-and-through and so far it didn’t look like you had anything extra to worry about, you tapped out of the conversation.
You felt useless as the days ticked by. Piney didn’t want to bother you with what was going on with the Tara situation, but luckily you knew that Tig had a soft spot for you and he kept you more up to date on everything. The club left for one week and everything started to fray at the seams. You kept your mouth shut about it—not reaching out to anyone that was in Belfast. You agreed with the three of them on that, that this was the last thing any of those men needed to be worrying about.
You hadn’t heard anything from anyone in a day or two and you were starting to go a little stir-crazy. Truthfully you didn’t know why you were still being kept in the hospital at all until Margaret walked in. It was impossible to hide your surprise, but despite the ordeal she’d been through, she had cleaned herself up for work well. You could see the fear and exhaustion in her eyes, though.
“You’re the one keeping me here in first class, Red?”
“You’re welcome for that.”
Neither of you really knew what to say. In hushed tones she told you about everything that had happened, about what the situation was like now. She explained to you that she may or may not have misplaced some paperwork to keep you in the hospital and safe until everything played itself out one way or another. You hadn’t expected that from her—for her to go to bat for you when she didn’t even know you. But you were thankful for it.
Meanwhile, the club was just getting back to the compound, baby Abel in tow. The joy of being home again was short-lived, however, when everyone got filled in on the news of what was going on. Juice tried desperately to keep his cool when he found out what had happened to you, not wanting to throw another wrench into everything that was going on, but it wasn’t easy. They all immediately took off in separate directions to try and handle whatever part of the mess that they could.
Opie was walking towards the row of bikes as he spoke to Jax, “I’m gonna head to the hospital, make sure she hasn’t started holding any nurses or doctors hostage,” he chuckled, only able to joke because he knew that you were going to be alright, “I’ll catch up with you after.”
Jax nodded as he clipped his helmet on, “Sounds good.”
“I’ll go with you,” Juice piped up as he followed Opie. Both the men looked at Juice, a little confused but neither of them argued with him about it. He saw their expressions though and fought to cover for himself, “I can stay with her when you catch up with Jax—makes sure everything’s alright.”
Opie shrugged, “Fine by me.”
He and Juice both headed out of the compound, but once their tires hit the road, Juice took off like a bat out of hell. Almost instantly he left Opie in the dust, and Opie didn’t fight to try and keep up. They’d both make it there one way or another.
Juice practically launched himself off of his bike when he parked at the hospital. He quickly wound his way through the halls until he found your room. You were lying in bed with the TV on, but he could tell that you weren’t really paying any attention to it.
You heard footsteps stop in your doorway and looked over. Your entire face brightened up when you saw him. He looked at you for a moment, and you could see that there were a million thoughts and emotions running through his mind as he took in the sight of you in the hospital bed, toying with his ring.
“Welcome home,” you laughed.
The sound of your voice snapped him out of his own head and he all but ran over to your bedside. He hugged you, trying his hardest to be gentle and not hurt you. he pressed your head against his chest and kissed the top of your head.
“Are you okay?” his voice was soft.
You nodded, pulling back from him so you could really look at him, “I’m alright. Could’ve been gone a couple days ago but Tara’s friend is keeping me in hospital witpro,” you chuckled.
“I’m so sorry,” he cupped your face in his hands, “I should’ve been here.”
You shook your head, “Don’t do that to yourself. I’m fine. Everything is gonna be fine.”
He traced his thumb along your face before leaning in and kissing you on the lips. You felt yourself smiling as you leaned into him, your hand coming to rest on the outside of his arm. Even though it’d only been about a week, the way he kissed you made it feel like he had been gone for months.
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me,” Opie leaned against the doorframe.
Juice pulled his lips off of yours, almost making himself stumble backwards a few steps to try to cover for the two of you. You laughed, knowing that there was no point in trying to lie about it now.
“I was coming to see if you’re alright,” Opie chuckled as he walked to the other side of your bed, “But honestly this,” he gestured to you and Juice, “is more concerning than the bullet wound.”
You laughed, rolling your eyes, “I’m fine on both counts, thanks for asking.”
He chuckled before bending down to kiss your forehead, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you looked back and forth between him and Juice, trying to figure out what was going to happen next.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Opie looked at him, “Once she’s out of the hospital bed, she’s the one you need to worry about. Not me.”
Juice nodded, not fooled at all by the calm way that Opie was handling the situation. He knew that underneath the cool demeanor Opie was more than ready to snap and wring Juice by the neck if you ever gave a reason for him to do so.
“Got it,” Juice shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, unsure of what else to do.
Opie raised his eyebrows slightly, “Can I leave you in charge here, then?”
He nodded, “Yea, yea of course.”
“Don’t let her get shot again,” Opie leaned down and kissed the top of your head once more before leaving and going to catch up with Jax.
Juice let out a relieved laugh, “I thought that was gonna be way worse.”
You smiled and shook your head, “It’s not him you gotta worry about. Just wait ‘til Piney finds out.” Juice’s face paled at the thought of it and you couldn’t help but to laugh. You patted the space on the bed next to you, “Come lay with me.”
He was never good at saying no to you. With a quiet laugh he clumsily climbed into the bed beside you, letting you settle against his chest as he looped his arm around your shoulders. He kissed your temple, closing his eyes for a moment to just enjoy being with you again.
He saw the outline of your bandage through the thin fabric of the hospital gown, “Does it hurt?”
You looked at him and chuckled, “Did it hurt when you got stabbed?”
He laughed, shaking his head, “Alright, alright. Stupid question, I get it.”
You rested your palm against his chest, soaking up the feeling of his heartbeat, “I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“Sorry I didn’t have a better welcome home party planned for you,” you smiled.
He shook his head with a small grin as he kissed your forehead, “We’ll party plenty when you get out of here.”
“Can’t wait,” you looked up at him, “Gotta show off my battle scars.”
He rolled his eyes, “You’re ridiculous.”
You playfully nudged him, “You love it.”
He looked at his ring hanging around your neck, his gaze slowly trailing up to meet your eyes, “Yea, I do.”
184 notes · View notes
hockey-hoe-24-7 · 4 years
Text
Subtle, feat. Matthew Tkachuk
Tumblr media
Warnings: Smut, Jealousy, Edging, Rough sex
Length: 3.1k
Inspiration: I was actually inspired by a line in @jasonmorgan96​‘s Meet The Parents with Vince Dunn. I almost used Vince for this fic, but Matthew fit much better.
To say your boyfriend hated your neighbor was an understatement.
A major understatement
Like, a wow understatement.
But you couldn’t really blame him. They were exact opposites. While your apartment neighbor, Will, was clean and put together, Matthew was wild and untamed. Whereas Will had has hair clean cut and slicked back, Matthew let his curls run wild. Will strutted around in J. Crew and Banana Republic, Matthew lived in sweatpants and ath-leisure. The differences went on for ages.
But the biggest difference was that you were dating Matthew and not Will. And this was a difference Will seemed unwilling to accept.
See, you and Will were a lot alike: Academic, intellectual, scholarly types that didn’t take up a lot of room in front. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, was a loud, in your face, take up all the air in the room type of man. And you adored him for it. Your totally contrasting personalities fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. While you brought peace and serenity to his life, he brought intensity and fire to yours.
It was this intensity and fire you felt in your belly that Friday night, his fingers digging into your hips, his hips strong against yours, his teeth sharp on your throat. You giggled as you both stumbled into the elevator of your apartment building, his strength enough to keep you both from falling to the floor. Pulling his head up, you took his mouth in a kiss that quickly turned hot as he took control. The two of you collapsed back against the wall of the elevator, mouths still fused. It was when you felt his calloused hand pulling your floor-length dress up your thigh that you dragged yourself away.
“No, no, no. No, sir. We were late for the last event. We will not be late for this one.”
Matthew only hummed in feigned compliance as you wiggled out of his grip and leaned forward to press the lobby button on the control panel. You barely made the reach, as he still had his hands firmly on your hips, which were cradled back into his own.
“They’ll understand. Especially when they see you in this dress,” he purred against the shell of your ear. You rolled your eyes. “Of course they’ll understand. They’ll understand so well I’ll hear about it for the next two weeks.” You could practically hear Matthew beaming with pride behind you.
Before the elevator doors could close, a hand shot out from the hallway and they parted again. You immediately felt Matt stiffen behind you, his hands tightening on your hips as Will slid into the elevator, his eyes narrowed judgmentally. Since you believed in keeping peace with your neighbors, you cleared your throat and smiled cordially.
“Hi, Will.”
“Y/N. Where are you headed this evening?”
“Oh, the Flames are having an event.”
“Again?”
“Yes, they have quite a few.”
“How...humanitarian of them.”
Jesus.
A few months ago, Will would have been your type. But since you started dating someone as open and unashamed as Matthew, you could better see a guy like Will for what he really was: condescending, judgmental, entitled. He never missed a chance to remind you that he thought you could do “better.” Though he never said this in as many words.
You should come to this new cafe with me. I’m sure you’re long due for a stimulating conversation.
While I can’t push a puck around, I can read Shakespeare and Balzac.
No amount of money or fame can replace a college education.
Jackass.
You replied before Matthew got a chance. “Yes, I certainly like to think so. They love to give back. What are athletes without the people who support them? Oh, here’s the lobby. Have a good night, Will.”
Lacing your fingers through Matt’s, you all but dragged him out of the elevator toward the front door. He fell easily into step next to you, your fingers still laced together. “You should let me beat him up in the parking garage one day.”
You let out a very unladylike bark of a laugh and brought his hand up to kiss him on the knuckles. He responded with a kiss to the crown of your head and a not so subtle squeeze of your ass as you made your way to his waiting car.
By then end of the night, your boyfriend had you dying for him. Soft, teasing touches under the table, deep kisses snuck when no one was watching, and filthy words of promise whispered in your ear made you so on edge you were dragging him out the door by the end of the night. His hand rested dangerously high on your leg the entire ride back to your apartment, his fingers only just brushing the seam of your thigh. You fidgeted desperately, trying to pull his hand where you needed it, but he wouldn’t give in.
As soon as you were alone in the elevator he was on you, his hands shoving your dress up so he could grip your thighs and hoist you up between his body and the wall. You grunted when your back met the metal, but it was muffled by his mouth over yours. The kiss was deep and wild, everything you had been holding back the entire night. It was everything that was Matthew. The ding of the elevator at your floor had you pulling apart reluctantly. As you stumbled out of the elevator you ran right into Will rummaging through his satchel at the door to his apartment. He looked up, eyes narrowing at your unkempt appearances. 
“Oh, hi, Will. How was your night?”
“It was good, thank you. Very productive. How was your night?”
“It was great.”
“Yes I can see that.”
Before you could reply, Matthew opened his big fat hockey mouth. “And it’s going to get a lot fuckin’ better. Good night, Billy.”
With that, he pulled your key out of your hand, deftly unlocked your door, and dragged you inside.
“Very subtle, Matthew,” you scolded him drily, hoping your voice relayed at least some displeasure at his childish behavior. Unfortunately, his hands at your waist and mouth at your neck were making it difficult to hold your ground. 
“Wasn’t trying to be subtle, princess,” he murmured against your ear, his chest rumbling against your back as he squeezed your hips and guided you toward the bedroom. You groaned as his lips moved from your ear down your throat to nip at your shoulder. His hands were also roaming, skimming up your sides to tug at the back zipper of your dress.
“Actually,” he continued. “I don’t want to be subtle for the rest of the night.”
“Wha-”
You yelped as he twisted you around and shoved you not ungently onto your back on the bed. He was stunning as he towered over you, eyes hooded in the darkness of the room.
“I want you to be loud  tonight. Can you do that for me?”
Unable to deny him anything, you wordlessly nodded, still speechless at the sheer sight of this man that was yours.
“Hmm, good girl.” With that, he dropped to his knees, hooked his arms beneath your legs, and dragged you to the side of the bed. Shoving your dress to your waist, he buried his face between your legs. The sudden heat and pressure of his mouth made you cry out and buck against the feel. Collapsing back, you arched into the touch. He hadn’t taken off your panties, and it was torture to feel the pressure of his tongue against you, but not inside of you.
Pleading his name, you shoved your hands through his curls, both pulling him closer and pushing him away as the pleasure built. When he finally pulled your panties aside and curled two fingers inside of you, his name was a sharp cry, your back arching off the bed. Just as you were about to tip over the edge, he pulled away.
“Not yet, princess. It will be so good when I let you come. So fucking good, baby.”
Whimpering, you reached for him, but he was shoving your hands away and grabbing at the neckline of your dress. He ripped it off in one quick motion, having unzipped it a few moments before. Your panties came with it and you were bare to his eyes. When you reached forward again, he let you make quick work of his own clothes, his hands just as urgent as yours as you tore open his shirt and shoved aside his dress pants. 
As he stood naked before you, cock hard against his stomach, you couldn’t help yourself. Moving to the edge of the bed, you wrapped your arms around his waist and laid kiss after kiss over his chest, nipping here and there with your teeth, worshipping him. His hands were in your hair, pushing you closer as a loud moan of your name left his throat. You could imagine his face: head tipped back, tendons strong against his throat as his eyes fluttered shut and his mouth opened in pleasure.
You felt his cock twitch against the skin of your chest and his hand was suddenly at your neck and shoving you down onto the bed. You felt his grip on your throat trael between your legs and you nearly came, but his voice was pulling you away again.
“Not yet, baby. You come with me inside you.”
Before you could object, he was moving over you, a knee coming to the side of your head, the other coming up beneath your arm and under your shoulder. One of his hands had fisted his cock. “Suck me off, princess.”
You did as you were told, greedily accepting his cock in your mouth. He groaned long and loud, his body pitching forward until he had to catch himself with one hand against the bed. You ran your nails up his thighs to his hips, digging them in hard as you took him as far back as you could. This drew a long, strangled moan from his chest and you whimpered in need. His other hand went to the back of your head, digging a strong grip into your hair and forcing your head forward.
The pace was rough and desperate as he fucked into your mouth, his hips snapping forward until he was hitting the back of your throat at every stroke. You welcomed him every time, giving him complete control to take whatever pleasure he wanted from you. You could only hold on, let his hold on your head dominate every movement you made. Words of filthy encouragement dripped from his mouth and you opened your mouth wide as you felt his cock twitch.
But before he came down your throat, he was yanking your head back and pulling away yet again. You collapsed back onto the bed, gasping for breath.  Before you could raise your head or even open your eyes, you felt the heat of his tongue lick a long path up your pussy. Groaning out his name, you thrust your hands through his hair in welcome. But he was gone again the next second, the strength of your hands incomparable to his.
“Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are like this?” He purred against the mound of your pussy before laying a gentle kiss there. “So fucking wet and wrecked for me. God, such a slut for me.” You could only whimper in reply as he kissed his way slowly back up your body. Your pussy throbbed at the soft brush of his cock, but it was gone again in the next breath.
His next words were murmured against your throat. “Who does this to you, baby? Who makes you this fucking wet?”
It took a long moment to find them, but your words left you on a rush of breath. “You-you do, M-Mathew.”
He hummed in approval against your throat before taking your mouth in a rough tangle of a kiss. You groaned again and collapsed back against the bed, wrapping your legs tight around his hips. No matter what he did, how far he pushed you, the pleasure he dragged screaming from your body, his kiss felt like sanctuary every time. The two of you stayed like that for a long moment, relishing the warm intimacy of the kiss before he was flexing his hips and biting hard at your bottom lip. You yelped in pain, but then squealed in surprise when you were suddenly moving off the bed and through the air. 
Your back met the headboard so hard you grunted. Matthew’s body was hot and hard against yours, pressing you back until you could feel the tension of his muscles with every deep breath you took. You leaned forward to kiss him again, but he clapped his hand over your throat and shoved you back against the headboard.
“Matt...”
His hand gripped your hip and lifted your body up slightly. You gasped against his mouth as he pushed just the tip of his cock into you.  Your pussy clenched reflexively, but he was pulling out again to the sound of your strangled sob.
“What do you need, princess?” he growled against your lips. “Tell me what you need.”
“Matthew, please. I can’t-”
You yelped again as he slapped your ass hard. “Tell me.”
You struggled to find words as he pushed in slowly again, only slightly deeper than before. You both inhaled at the pleasure, bodies moving as one. 
“You, Matthew. I need you. Please. Please-”
He pulled out again, but was quick to push back again, his own need reaching a breaking point.
“What do you need? Tell me exactly what you need, baby.”
“I need to come, Matthew. I need you to come inside of me. Please. Please.”
He chucked against your mouth, shameless in his knowledge of your desperation.
“Whatever you want, princess. But be loud for me. Scream my name fucking loud.”
As he pulled out and slammed in to the hilt, you did just that, screaming out louder than you ever had before. His hands flew up and one of them manacled your own wrists to the headboard, dragging your body up until you had to sacrifice all control. His other hand went to the top edge of the headboard and held on tight. With every thrust against you, he slammed the headboard back against the wall.
Let that little prick hear whose name you screamed. Let him hear every slam of that headboard until he couldn’t think of anything else when he so much as saw you.
Your orgasm was shattering when you finally came, more powerful than any you had had before in your life. Your body sagged in his grip, but Matthew wasn’t done. He pounded into you until he reached his own climax, pulling out and thrusting in so deep you could feel him in your throat.
When he let go of your hands and let his own body relax, you sagged against him, collapsing as you struggled to catch your breath. He held you gently, murmuring praise into your ear as he stroked your hair.
When you finally regained some composure, you laid a hot, wet kiss to his throat, a silent thank you for the pleasure. He groaned and tilted his head to the side in compliance. When you felt his cock twitch in renewed interest, you flexed tight around him.
HIs next words came only after a strangled groan. “Not yet, baby. You did so good for me. We’re going to rest a bit.”
Before you could argue, he wrapped an arm tight around your waist and moved you both to lay down with your heads against the pillows, his cock still inside you. Your bodies more than enough heat without the blankets, you snuggled into him and let out a small noise of content and drifted off to sleep.
He woke you up twice more that night, dragging you on top to ride him and then putting you on your knees, head shoved into the pillows as he pounded into you from behind. The next morning, you could barely move, grimacing as you pulled yourself into an upright position.
“You okay?” Matthew’s voice was tired and raspy. You looked down at him and your heart fluttered like a teenage girl’s. He was beautiful next to you, unashamedly naked and taking up every inch of air in the room. You also didn’t miss the glint of concern in his eyes. Not being able to help yourself, you leaned down and pecked him on the mouth. “Yes,” you reassured him. “But you need to feed me.”
He grinned against your mouth and pulled his own body up and out of bed. You couldn’t help but glare at his retreating form as he sauntered to the bathroom. He was used to throwing his body around like a wrecking ball. You were not. You were going to feel last night for at least a week.
As you began to get ready to go out for breakfast, you caught a glimpse of the wall behind your headboard. You squawked in anger and disbelief as you took in the state of your wall. 
“Matthew!”
He poked his curly head out from the hallway, his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.
“What?”
“Look at my wall! It’s fucking dented!”
The cocky bastard didn’t even try to look ashamed. He looked unbelievably proud of himself. “We did good, babe.”
Grabbing the closet object - an UGG slipper on the floor - you lobbed it at his head. Of course, he ducked back into the bathroom just in time.
“You’re paying my security deposit,” you hollered over your shoulder as you stomped to the other bathroom.
When the two of you made it out of your apartment, who should you run into but Will. Who did not look happy. He got one glimpse of the two of you and his jaw set in an angry, judgmental line.
“Good morning,” he greeted you frostily. 
“Mornin’,” Matthew replied, a wide smirk on his face.
You felt your own face flush a deep red. God, the two of you had been loud last night. And Will lived in the apartment right next to your bedroom wall. If you were rough enough to dent the wall, you were loud enough to keep him awake.
As Matthew was about to say something else, the three of you turned your heads as a tiny old lady hobbled out of the apartment. You and Matthew both stood in stunned silence.
“This if my widowed grandmother,” Will explained with a tight voice and a frosty glare. “She stayed with me last night.”
You gaped and looked up at Matthew, who had turned a concerning shade of white.
The little old lady took you both in before her face broke out in a big brilliant smile. She reached out and patted your cheek. “Good for you, sweetheart!”
Subtle.
1K notes · View notes
untaemedqueen · 4 years
Text
When It Rains, It Pours (M)
Roommate!Namjoon x Reader
WordCount: 4.6k
Genre: PWP, Smut, Fluff, Roommates to Lovers!
Warnings: Soft Dom!Namjoon, Dirty Talk, Begging, Praise, Fingering, Cunnilingus, Joon Tiddie Worship (You Just Gotta), Huge Cock!Namjoon, Face Fucking, Spanking, Cum Swallowing, Unprotected Sex, Choking, Possessive!Namjoon, Degradation, Multiple Orgasms, Cream Pie
A/N: A really big thanks to my women @xjoonchildx​, @ladyartemesia​, @ppersonna​ for hyping me up as per usual and reading through it! The loves of my life! I hope you guys enjoy it! 
Tumblr media
Summer showers are usually delightful. There's something incredible about sitting on your balcony with your roommate as you both sip wine and listen to the rain patter against the streets and your apartment building. You love the smell of the rain, the dark overcast that seems to highlight your roommates handsome features. And, above all you love the coziness that sets deep into your bones. 
You should have been home two hours ago, listening to the rain with your braniac of a roommate and yet, you had gotten stuck at work for what felt like the fortieth time just this month. 
You didn’t bring an umbrella to work, expecting to have been home before the rain began to barrage the Earth. 
You didn’t bring a jacket because it was hotter than Hades outside and the humidity was eating you alive. 
So here you are, drenched and disappointed that you missed out on a beautiful evening on the balcony.
Thunder crashes loudly, lightning highlighting the apartment door as it gets kicked open. Namjoon jumps loudly at the noise as the door knob slams into the wall. 
“Jesus Christ! What the fuck!?” he yells, putting his hand over his heart. 
You glower at him as you enter the apartment, hair in tendrils as small droplets of water plop onto the white ground beneath you.
Closing his book, his eyes go wide. You can only grimace grimace, picking up your hair and slinging it over your shoulder unceremoniously. The slap as your hair hits your back is loud and you purse your lips, shaking your soaked bare arms. 
“Oh my God!” Joon mumbles, jumping up and rushing into the hallway to the linen closet. 
You groan gently, throwing your bag onto the floor. The puddle that seems to seep from the sodden fabric makes you give an unamused scoff as Namjoon reappears with towels. 
“You should have called me, idiot! I would have picked you up!” he chides you, putting a towel around your shoulders. 
You hum to him, looking out the window as lighting ricochets through the sky. He bends down to your level, throwing a towel over your head and patting your face dry. 
“I didn’t want to bother you.” you mutter, rolling your eyes when he clicks his teeth. 
His eyes look over your face before looking at your clothes. 
“You’re going to get sick. You have to take these clothes off.” he whispers and you raise an eyebrow at him as he runs the towel down your soaked arms. 
“Are you trying to get me naked?” you quip. 
He chuckles, flicking your forehead. 
“If I wanted to have you naked. I would have already done so years ago.” he retorts as you rub your forehead with a pout. 
With an unattractive snort, you take the towel off of yourself. 
“Lift your arms.” he instructs, grabbing at the soaked hem of your shirt. 
You do as told whining at the cold fabric before meeting eyes with him as he hauls the soaked fabric over your head. He keeps his eyes on you, the soaked tank top slapping to the floor from the heaviness of the rain. He trails his eyes slowly down your face, your breath hitching as you tilt your head.
The lightning highlights his handsome features once more. And the way his tongue swipes over his lips makes you go rigid.
 Fuck, what is wrong with you? 
You’ve lived together for years now. The man before you is your best friend. You've had ideas of such things before but you've worked so hard to keep them at bay. How could you be reacting to him in such a way? 
He unbuttons your jeans, tugging at the waistband, the fabric is so soaked it clings to the globes of your ass. You hiss as he pulls down harshly, your legs coated in a sheen layer of wetness as he bends down. 
“Put your hand on my shoulder and step out.” he orders. 
You shiver, feeling the cool air drift over your body in the dimly lit room.
Stepping out of your pants, Namjoon catches sight of how wet your panties have even gotten, the light grey cotton fabric dark and soaked by the rain. He takes a sharp inhale through his nose, looking at you as he stands tall. 
“If you get sick I’m not staying by your side waiting on you hand and foot like the last time you had the flu.” he says sternly.
You give a lopsided grin to him. He grabs the towel, swiping it over your legs. He can feel your muscles tense and grow terse when he rubs away the rain. 
Your skin is so soft. He's noticed this over the years, but he had never paid too much mind to it (he tried anyway) until now. 
His eyes flit to your panties again, watching your thighs press together out of embarrassment of him being so close. 
"Dry your hair." he tells you, drifting his hands along your calves. 
Gripping the other towel, you squeeze your soaked hair into it. Your gaze averts to the window as you watch the rain patter along the sides of the balcony. 
"I wanted to come home and listen to the rain with you. I didn't know I was going to get stuck at work." you whine quietly, making him chuckle. 
His deep set dimples appear as he looks up at you. 
"We can listen to it tomorrow. It's supposed to rain for a few days." he replies, looking at your lace bra. 
Through the wet black lace, he can see your nipples stiffly peaked and he widens his eyes before looking back down. 
Fuck, your nipples are nice. 
There’s a short silence. He’s drinking you in at this moment, looking over your stomach, the wet sheen highlighting your soft skin. It takes every ounce of his strength to look away. 
"Go take a warm shower. I'll lay your clothes on your bed for you." he whispers, turning around. 
You clear your throat, nodding.
Walking away, his head turns slightly. 
He shouldn't look and yet, he is. 
He watches the globes of your ass jiggle with each step towards the hallway. He can’t help but ogle the way your soaked panties cling to your skin. 
He furrows his eyebrows, pressing his hand to his crotch before sighing loudly. 
"You've made it through so many years already, the fuck is wrong with you?" he chides himself, adjusting his erection as it strains against his basketball shorts.
Tumblr media
He lays your pajamas out on your bed, sitting down on the edge. 
His fingers run over your clothes, looking up at the ceiling. 
"Yeah. You're fucked." he hisses to himself, standing tall. 
He sighs gently watching you enter the bedroom, a towel wrapped around your now clean body.
"Feel better?" he asks as you walk towards him. 
"Totally. Thanks so much Joonie." 
He hums at your words, giving you a small, unsure smile that makes his chin dimple sweetly.
You noticed how he looked at your nipples when he was drying you off. You noticed how affected he was by touching your skin. And, it begged the question. Did Kim Namjoon have a thing for you? Like you have for him? 
You've been trying to hide it for so damn long that it seems almost ridiculous after all these years. 
"Let me know if you need anything." he whispers, walking towards the door. 
Well, let’s find out just how much he likes you then.
"Joon." you call to him, gripping the towel. 
He turns his head to you, eyes looking expectantly as he gives a small smile. You open up the towel revealing your body to him and he lets out a small gasp. His eyes shoot straight to yours and you can see his inner battle of where to look. 
"Jesus, Y/N." he sounds breathless, shifting from foot to foot.
"I want you to look." you whisper and he hums unsurely, running his hands over his face.
"Do you? Because you're going to open a can of worms I've been trying to keep hidden for a long time." he breathes, eyes flitting to your nipples. 
"I want you to look." you say surely and he licks his lips before letting out a low whistle.
"What do you think?" you ask, sitting down on the bed. 
He lets out a disbelieving chuckle, walking towards you. "I think you're very sexy." 
The tinge of color to your cheeks makes him all the more eager as he bends down in front of you. 
"Really?" you inquire quietly.
His tongue trails over his lips slowly, watching your nipples harden under his stare. 
"Oh yeah. Really." he whispers, looking up at you.
You lay back before looking up at the ceiling, trying to tame your heart beat as it pounds away in your chest. 
"Are you trying to tell me something?" Namjoon quips, running his hands over your thighs.
"Maybe." you reply, earning a chuckle from him. 
He kneels on the bed, fingers digging deeper into the skin of your thighs.
"We can't come back from this, y'know? I fuck you, I keep you. You know how I am." he tells you, fingers kneading at your skin. 
You wriggle at his ministrations, a gentle sigh leaving your lips. He tilts your head to look at him expectantly. 
"Do you hear me?" he inquires.
"Yes, I hear you." you breathe. 
That's all he needs before he is spreading your legs wider. 
"Fuckin' hell." he mumbles, letting his eyes roam over your body.  
"I tried so hard not to think about this. I swear to God. But, fuck, you're gorgeous." he hisses, running his hands run up your sides.
Your breath hitches at his warm hands. His touch is gentle and you find it hard to focus on almost anything other than his handsome face as his brown hair falls into his eyes. 
"Years. It's been years trying to ignore this feeling." 
His head bows down, pressing his lips to yours. 
The kiss is slow, as if Namjoon is calculating every small thing like he normally does. He's always in his own head, always thinking of what to do next. It has always been an admirable trait but right now you just want him to act. Not think.
"Show me how much you want me." you whine as he grips harder at your sides. 
His ragged breathing stirs something inside of you, stomach unfurling with wanting as his lips trail downwards. 
He leaves gentle pink petals on your skin as he suckles the column of your neck. Your fingers card through his hair, gasping his name with gentle sighs. 
His hands cup your breasts, pushing them upwards slightly as the tip of his nose drifts over your pert nipple. 
“Fuck, Y/N.” he whispers. 
The sound of your name spoken like a calm prayer upon his lips has your hips lifting off the bed. His lips part for your areola, sucking them harshly before flicking your nipple with the tip of his tongue. Your hips roll in circles as he situates himself better between your legs. His knees push your legs open wider, an electric current seemingly sweeps through your body as his hands run over your sides. 
“So many times I’ve thought about being in this room. When you bring guys home and let them fuck your tight little cunt. I hear how you moan for those random guys, how you beg for more. Drove me fucking crazy.” 
There he is, the beast let out of his cage. 
This is the Kim Namjoon you were dying to see. 
Grabbing your wrist, his lips trail over the valley of your breasts before showing love to your other breast. He presses your hand snugly to his shorts and your whine is low as you feel his hard cock strain against the fabric. 
“Joonie.” you whimper, gasping when he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingertips. 
“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” he whispers as thunder crashes throughout the sky as if Thor is pleased at your encounter.
His fingers are so warm to the touch. They drift down so slowly your breathing practically stops. You can feel your arousal beginning to weep from you as your lips part for air. 
“How wet is your pussy for me? Hmm?” he hisses, dipping his hand lower on your stomach.
His fingers make a V motion, opening your lower lips for him. A choked groan echoes throughout the room as his fingers drift lazily over your sodden folds.
 “Fuck.” he curses as his fingers become coated in your arousal. 
It’s practically sinful the way he bites his bottom lip. The way his eyes trail over your body before lewdly staring at your soaked cunt makes you feel frazzled. 
“Look at you. Your pussy is begging to be filled with me.” he murmurs with wonder.
“Joon. Please.” you beg, running your hands run over his shoulders. He hums gently at your words, licking his lips. 
“Please what?” he asks, each word punctuated with a quick slap to your pussy. 
Through sharp gasps you find the words. “Please fuck my pussy. I’m so horny for you.” 
He smirks, bending down over you, his lips connecting to yours. His thumb collects your arousal, rubbing smooth circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves. 
You gasp into his mouth, thighs beginning to shake and he takes the opportunity to thrust his tongue into your mouth with a gentle moan. His hips rut into the air, begging for relief as you whimper against his lips.
His fingers, coated in the slick juices of your cunt, thrust into your tight core without warning. Your back bows off the bed as your eyes screw shut, euphoric pleasure washing over you like a tidal wave. Moaning against your lips at the tightness of your cunt, his fingers find a steady rhythm inside of you.  
“Yes! Fuck!” you cry out, running your fingers run through his hair.
“God, you’re gorgeous.” he mumbles against your jaw before rearing back and spitting on your cunt. 
The sound and feeling sends a shiver up your spine and your legs spread wider accordingly.  
The obscene squelching of your pussy sends the man above you into a frenzy. His teeth nip at the bare mound of flesh above your core before licking at your clit. As if his life depended on getting you off, he suckles earnestly at your bud. Loving the way your hips roll and undulate on his face for more. 
Tugging at his hair, your moans are almost screams, watching him eat you out so diligently -- the handsome man you denied feelings for for so long finally between your legs eating you out like it was his last fucking meal. White-hot pleasure courses through your bones as his fingers curl inside of you and he groans adding a third. You whimper his name and he finds his eyes rolling back in his skull at your sweet taste. 
It was building then, the bubble inside of you growing expansively as your thighs begin to quake. 
“You’re going to cum for me? Hmm? Make a mess all over my fingers like the pretty little girl you are?” 
Your nod is fervent at his words, your breathing becoming shallow. 
His fingers begin to scissor open your pussy and you groan at the stretch. 
“Gotta prep your sweet cunt, your pussy is too tight for my cock.” his words goad you towards the precipice. 
His lips attach back to your clit, suckling harshly against you and your eyes screw shut. Raking the pads of his fingers against the spongy nerves inside you, you find your mind growing fuzzy. Everything you hear sounds as if you are underwater as he praises you against your clit. 
“Cum for me, baby.” 
With those four words you tip over the edge, screaming his name as your eyelids go white from the pleasure. 
Your thighs quake, hands tightening in his hair as you run your clit over his tongue until you’re completely fucked out before him. 
“Good girl,” he praises.
He still continues to stretch you out for him. Murmuring words of praise to you until you come down from the cloud you were just upon. He pulls out of you slowly, watching your cunt gape for him and the groan he emits has your stomach churning for more. 
“Eyes on me, baby.” he announces, entering his fingers into his mouth. 
His eyes flutter closed at the taste, running his tongue through every finger to get every bit of your essence. 
He slips his shirt off of his body and you can’t seem to rip your eyes away from his golden skin. The lightning highlights his pecs and the small abs that contort against his stomach with every harsh breath. You’ve seen him walk around without a shirt on before. Always drooling over how sexy he was. 
But this. 
This is a fucking god send. 
His fingers find the waistband of his basketball shorts before his tongue trails slowly over his bottom lip. 
Pulling down the waistband of his shorts, your breath catches at the size of his cock. Most cocks you’ve seen in your life slap up against a man's stomach when they’re released from the confines of their pants. 
Namjoon’s cock is so large and thick that it bobs in the air at the heaviness. Two toned and sinfully hard, he chuckles at your gaping mouth. You watch as his thumb runs over the dusky rose colored veins of his length. Precum pools at the slit of his bulbous head as your pussy twitches around nothing, wanting to be filled with his cock. 
“Fuck,” is all you can say as he strokes his cock languidly. 
“Come.” he whispers, sitting back on the balls of his feet. 
You find yourself scrambling onto all fours, mouth beginning to water for him. You want to feel the heaviness of him on your tongue, taste the precum that seems to endlessly release from him. 
Your lips trail over his pecs. Suckling sweetly at the taut skin and he hisses gently in response. 
“God, your lips feel so fucking good.” 
You hum to him, shooing his hand away from his cock. 
Your hand grips at the base, eyes almost rolling back as your thumb can’t seem to meet your index finger. 
“You’re so fucking big.” you whisper, running your tongue over his dark nipple, feeling it pucker between your lips. 
“I’m gonna fuck you right open, baby.” his promise makes you preen and you trail your lips slowly to his other pectoral muscle. You can feel the thick muscle ripple underneath before suckling at his other nipple. He groans gently, body wobbling as his fingers run through your hair. 
You kiss down his golden skin, lightning highlighting his features still as the rain begins to patter harder against the window of your bedroom. Your tongue rakes over his small abs, hearing his breath catch and then stop as you descend lower. 
“Y/N.” your name is breathlessly spoken as you come face to face with his hard cock. 
Your tongue licks at your lips, watching his cock twitch with excitement in your hand. Your eyes meet his and you find it wildly attractive how his eyebrows furrow with concentration. 
Licking over the base, his body shudders. He curses quietly, a sound swallowed by thunder outside your window. Swirling your tongue over the head, you gather his precum on your tongue. Heavy and tasting like sea salt from the deepest ocean, you simply moan at the taste. 
The sound ricochets through his body as tingles are sent down his spine. His hands grasp tighter at your hair as you begin to fuck him into your mouth, slowly worshiping at his large cock and he can only gasp for you. 
“Shit, your mouth is amazing.” he mumbles, watching you with blown out irises. 
You swallow around him, beginning to fuck him quicker into your mouth to hear his moans grow louder for you. It’s the way your tongue laps at the base as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat that he puts all caution to the wind. 
“I’m going to fuck your mouth, do you understand?” 
You whimper against him in confirmation, gripping his thighs.  
Taking a sharp inhale through his teeth, he begins to snap his hips to you. Your eyes well up with tears as you gag on his length. 
Swallowing around him, you groan happily as he fucks your throat. Your muscles clench and coax him and he hisses through his teeth. 
"Fuck, your mouth is so willing, isn't it? Letting me just fuck your filthy little throat like a cocksleeve." 
You moan at his words. 
One hand leaves your hair to drift down your back, the other pulling your head quicker against him as he moans loudly. His hand reaches the globe of your ass, caressing the skin before rearing back and spanking you roughly. Tears stream down your cheeks as you moan for him, spittle and precum stream over your lips and chin. 
"Look at how pretty your ass is when you get spanked. Nice and red for me." 
He rubs at the smarting skin, your thighs shake as the sting radiates through you. 
"You want more? You want your ass to be branded with my hand print?" he asks. 
You can feel his cock thickening and throbbing within your throat. 
You moan in confirmation, the new wave of arousal dripping out of you and down your inner thighs. 
He spanks you again, shorter and harder until your skin sings with a color he's pleased with. 
"You're such a good girl taking that. That was for fucking other men so loudly, you gave me no choice but to pine for you." he murmurs, running his thumbs over your tear soaked cheeks. 
He gasps gently as you hollow your cheeks, begging for him to cum down your throat. 
The thought sends your clit throbbing, wanting to have his cum stream down your throat and tongue -- wanting to feel the warm of him spread throughout your mouth. 
"Fuck! Y/N! I'm cumming, baby! Swallow it and show me." he punctuates his words with harsh thrusts, groaning loudly. 
His hips stutter before you feel the warm of him burst in your mouth. You moan as he whispers your name repeatedly. Thrusting shallowly, he milks himself of every drop. Swallowing, you find the musky taste pleasant,
When you pull off of him, you open your mouth. He smirks, running his hand over your cheek smoothly. 
"That's my girl." 
He crawls over you and your hands run over of his arms. His lips, smooth as silk drift over your nipples once more adoring how they harden all over again for him. His hips rut against you, splaying open your pussy lip as he coats the underside of his cock in your arousal. You whimper, feeling the bulbous head of his cock stimulate your clit. 
"God, I adore you." he coos, kissing you languidly.
The head of his cock prods at your entrance and you whimper against his lips as he begins to fill you. The stretch is pleasant albeit the twinge of pain from his large length but his tongue snakes into your mouth as you gasp to distract you. He groans against your lips, as he buries himself to the hilt. 
"You're so tight, baby. Fuck." his voice drops an octave, as if he's restraining himself and your walls flutter around him at the sexiness of it.
"Oh you like that? Hmm? You like hearing how fucking restless you make me?" 
He gives a shallow thrust, the bulbous head dragging through your velvet walls. Your head lolls back as his hands grip at your hips. He begins a steady pace, fucking you so well you begin to droll at the pleasure. 
"You're so goddamn wet!" he seethes through his teeth. 
Here you are, beneath him like he had dreamed so many times over. His bottom lip becomes sheathed behind his teeth as he snaps his hips quicker to yours. Your moans are loud, echoing throughout the room and through the thunder as it crashes throughout the skies. 
"Pretty little thing underneath me." he praises, grabbing your ankles and throwing them over his shoulders. 
The new angle sends white-hot pleasure coursing through your bones. Your roommate begins to fuck you faster and you can’t help but curl your toes at the feeling. 
"Choke me!" you beg him as his hand moves towards the apex of your thighs.
His grip is perfectly tight, rubbing quick circles onto your clit as he moans loudly. 
"Your pussy is so fucking messy. God, look at how you soak my cock. It's because you know who you belong to, don't you?" 
You whimper out as he fucks you deeper. 
"Who do you belong to, baby? Tell me!" 
"You! Namjoon! I belong to you!" you cry out out, the pleasure taking over your senses as tears pool in your eyes.
"That's fucking right you do. You're mine, gorgeous. All fucking mine." 
He can feel your cunt beginning to throb around him and he whimpers out as he feels his ball tighten. 
"I've wanted to cum so deep in your tight little cunt for so long. Fill you up to the brim and have people see my cum drip down your pretty legs. I want people to know who you fucking belong to. Who you beg for cock at night." 
Your fingernails rake down his skin when he lifts your hips higher.
The head of his cock caresses the sweet spot within you at each thrust and you find your mind going blank, babbling nonsense. 
"Getting dumb on my cock, baby? Is that it? Am I fucking you stupid? Hmm?"
"Joon! Fuck!" you whine, leaving bright red lines over his golden skin.
"Cum on my cock, baby. Cum and show me who you belong to." 
You can feel your pussy begin to milk him, the bubble within you about to burst. 
"That's right, baby. Show me how much you love my big cock." 
With a loud gasp, you tip over the edge. Galaxies of stars paint the back of your eyelids as tears stream down your face. 
"Fuck! Good girl! So fucking tight." he moans, shoving your ankles off of his shoulders. 
He buries his face into your neck, suckling harshly at the skin as his cock thickens once more. His hips snap harder, your name floats through the air as he finds himself coming to the same euphoric state. His thrusts stop with a loud groan and ropes of cum lather your soaked cunt. 
"Oh Jesus." he gasps, pressing his forehead to your cheek.
With a loud sigh he grabs hold of you, pulling out of you slowly before falling beside you. He pulls you to his chest and you can hear how fast his heart is beating while his eyes flutter shut. 
"Open your legs." he instructs.
You do as told and he hums happily watching your pussy begin to cream with his cum. His lips press to your forehead, looking out the window as the rain still barrages the window. 
"Why don't we get you cleaned up and I'll get us some wine, hmm? We can go out on the balcony and cuddle." 
You turn towards him, chin on his chest as your hand drifts over his stomach. "I'd love nothing more than that." you whisper. 
He smiles widely, dimples appearing for you before kissing you gently. "Me too, baby."
1K notes · View notes
yuulina-vre · 3 years
Text
The Walk
Fauna’s save heaven
Summary: Y/N wants to go for a walk, igrnoring the heavy rain outside.
Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Reader
Wordcount: 5.134 words
Warnings: none
Masterlist
Tumblr media
Y/N sits on the couch in the living room, browsing through some magazines. She hums at some décor tips, thinking about adding some plants to her room and maybe some curtains to the common room, a new carpet would be nice too. The old one has some stains of indeterminable liquids that Y/N knows are the results of the many parties Tony had thrown. Despite this, it looks nice in these magazines. She turns the page only to cringe at the newest recommended diet for the perfect summer body, with pictures of women as thin as a stick. “Are people actually still falling for this shit?” She asks out loud, not concerned to talk to herself. Though, Natasha and Wanda look up from her own magazines to look at what she’s reading, then scoffing themselves and turning back to their own stuff that’s not really a better medium than hers. “What shit?” A deep voice startles her, not having heard someone approach her. She nearly jumps from the couch, the magazine falling into her lap as she clutches her chest over her racing heart and tries to keep the screech, that’s almost making its way out of her mouth, at bay. The urge to change and flee, or attack, rises in her gut but she pushes it down, knowing that nothing will ever happen to her here. The tall, muscular brunette that steps up behind her, apple in one hand and chewing on it, chuckles. “Jesus! Don’t scare a girl like that.” She scolds, taking a deep and calming breath. “Bucky is fine, but thanks.” He grins mischievously at her, even winks a little while wiping some of the apple juice from his mouth with the back of his hand. Y/N only scoffs, turns back, and picks up her magazine to show him. “I meant this diet shit in these magazines. That a woman has to be thin and fit to be able to wear bikinis at the beach. Only for men to attract. Who`s gonna fall for that? It’s not what’s important. Besides, most of these diets aren’t even helping or are backfiring as soon as you don’t follow it as strictly anymore.” Bucky looks over the page she who’s him, his eyes linger on the woman, then switch over to the recommended diet. “More woman than you think fall for it.” He chuckles again, takes another bite from his fruit before he rounds the couch to flop down beside her, eyeing her disgusted face. “Don’t worry doll, back in the day it was the same. My Ma always scolded Becca for falling for the magazines.” Y/N starts pouting at him and shoves the offending material of paper as far away from her as she can. “I don’t even know why people buy this? Is there no better thing than to read what some wannabe reporter thinks about celebrity relationships? They’re just people who want to live their lives in peace.”
“And because they’re celebrities everyone wants to know what’s going on.” Bucky reaches over and takes one of Y/N’s hands in his, squeezing lightly to reassure her. “You know you’re being followed as soon as you leave home. People want to know what you’re up to, too. It’s just natural.” He shrugs and presses a kiss to her temple but Y/N pout further. “Yeah, but I’m trained to slip by people unnoticed or lose them quickly. I know how to escape and only show what I want other people to see.” She crosses her arms for good measure. All she’s getting is Bucky’s chuckle and his chewing as he takes another big bite while he pulls her closer to his side. For a while, she just listens to Bucky eating and the girls silently turning page after page, sometimes scoffing and sometimes laughing at things they discover. It doesn’t take long for Y/N to get bored. If she had timed it, it probably took only about ten minutes or so. “Buckyyyy?” She whines, turning to him, puppy dog eyes already forming on her face, pout deepening a little. “Mhh?” He doesn’t look at her. She’s not sure if it because he knows what look she sends him or because he actually finds the page on the magazine, that she had pushed away, actually interests him. “Can we go for a walk?” The brunette nearly chokes on his apple, coughing wildly until Y/N quickly sits up to clap on his back hard, worry on her face. “N-now?” He chokes out, looking at her in disbelieve, face beet red from coughing. “I mean- yeah?” She shrugs a little, hand still on his back, rubbing absentmindedly. “Y/N! It’s raining cats and dogs!” Bucky motions to one of the windows with his hand still clutching the remains of his apple. She follows his hand with a sigh. It’s darker outside, the clouds hanging heavy on the sky, hiding the sun, emptying themselves at a rapid speed. The water runs down the glass and the splattering of raindrops against the window and ground sounds like small machine guns. “I know. But… Pretty please? You know I like running in the rain. And it’s not even cold outside!” She turns a little, pouting again and making big, pleading eyes at him that she knows he can’t resist. “Noo… Y/N. Don’t look at me like that. I don’t like you smelling like a wet dog. Can’t you ask Stevie? Or Sam?” Bucky actually whines himself but Y/N continues to look at him. “They are not here. Please Bucky. Pleaaaase!” Her pout and big eyes get bigger, she now turns fully to face him, hands reaching out to place on the forearm of his metal arm, shaking it lightly with desperation. “Y/N…” He whines again, looking to the window to avoid Y/N’s eyes, but she actually whines as a little puppy would. She knows she got him now. “B-but... only for half an hour or so.” He lets his head hang in defeat but Y/N’s already throwing her arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek ignoring the stickiness from him trying to eat an apple like a five-year-old. “Yes! Thank you!” She jumps up, happily clapping her hands in excitement before dashing out of the room, missing Bucky’s soft smile and Natasha’s eyes rolling in annoyance. They all tell him he is too soft when she asks for something but Bucky always tries to ignore it, claiming it's not true. He knows it’s true.
Y/N now dashes down the hall to the elevator, getting in and tapping her feet restlessly until the doors open a floor down again. Sam’s wandering down the hall, smiling as he sees her, “Hey /YN.”
“Can’t, Sam! Going for a walk!” She’s passed him with a grin before she’s finished shouting, rounding the corner, and sprinting for her door. She nearly pushes it out of its hinges as she shoves it open with some exciting force. She slitters to a halt at her bed, falls to her knees and gets the box with her supplies out from under it. The box isn’t a small one. It’s filled with collars and leashes, toys and treats, even some products like shampoo and conditioner or clothes, brushes, and accessories. Things she needs for her many animal changes. She digs around for a few seconds until she finds her favorite collar and leash. It’s a light brown one which is twisted at four different spots to look like it’s braided there. The buckle is silver just like the ring for the matching leash. Attached to the collar is a small round dog tag with her name and Bucky’s number on it. As Tony purchased the collar, they decided Bucky’s number would be best, since he’s the one to take her out as a dog the most, followed by Steve, though he doesn’t like for people to know his number. ‘They will spread it and I won’t have a calm minute to spend with my best guy and girl’.
Y/N makes quick work of getting out of her clothes putting them neatly on her bed. She won’t need them after changing but that doesn’t mean that she can’t put them on tomorrow. She probably won’t change back today, aiming for falling asleep on Bucky’s and Steve’s bed after dinner, cuddling up close to them.
She ties the collar around her neck, knowing pretty well how tight it needs to be so it won’t slip off. She has done it plenty of times by now that she thinks she could do it with closed eyes. She walks naked to the door, peeking outside to make sure no one’s actually in front of it or even in the hall before opening it just a tiny bit more to make getting out easier. She hates trying to open doors with her paws. It's frustrating at best. Then she closes her eyes and concentrates. While changing, she has to concentrate on the animal she wants to be, on how it looks, how the fur has to be, and how big she wants to be. Sometimes even on how the bones have to shift, especially if it’s a bigger or a really small animal like horses or hedgehogs. She feels herself shrink, her bones adjusting and her skin sporting soft brown and curly fur. The moment she opens her eyes again she knows she looks just like a beautiful soft brown Australian Labradoodle. She shakes herself happily to get the small ache out of her body before bouncing up and down, happily running through her room and then out of the door and down the hall once more. She barks at the doors of the elevator, dancing in front of it until FRIDAY finally opens them for her. Sometimes FRIDAY takes her time and Y/N swears that Tony programmed her to tease others. She’s impatient to finally move at a dizzying speed through the streets. When the doors finally open, she dashes inside, making sure the leash is all set in the cabin and not hanging out. She doesn’t want to choke and strangle herself. Then she nudges the button for one floor upstairs with her nose to meet with Bucky again. 
Bolting through the doors of the living room once more, with a happy dance and lots of barking, she runs around, sniffing and jumping everyone. Nat, Wanda, and Bucky aren’t the only ones in the room anymore. Steve and Sam have joined them and somewhere off, probably in the attached kitchen, she can smell Tony. “Hey, girl. You really going for a walk in that rain?” Sam stands up only to crouch down again, clapping for Y/N’s attention. She runs up to him immediately, leaving Steve behind, and dances around him only jumping a little to lick his face. Steve always scolds her for jumping but she’s satisfied that he’s not saying anything right now, besides Sam’s laughing and all. She barks once as an answer just as Bucky starts grumbling again. Sam only laughs, scratching Y/N on all the right places and cooing at her, which will earn him some teasing when she changes back later. She likes teasing him for his soft spots. “How did you get Buck to go with you?” Steve raises an eyebrow, an amused smirk on his face as he watches Sam playing with her, nudging Bucky with his shoulder, too. “Puppy eyes.” Nat supplies amused scrolling through her phone. Bucky grumbles some more but soon has his lap full of a grown dog. Y/N has enough of getting patted, she wants to go outside and run in the rain! Torture Bucky too! Playfully, but carefully, she starts biting at his shirt and arm, trying to get the lazy mass of muscles to move his pretty butt off the couch and outside with her. As encouragement she whines a little, earning several rolled eyes and a laugh from Steve. Though he laughs more to tease Bucky. “Fine, fine. Stop pulling. Just gonna get my jacket.” Bucky sighs, runs his hand over his face through his hair. He throws a last teasing look to Steve but the blonde actually stretches out his tongue like a child and grins. Bucky pouts and flips him off while he stands up, and shuffles out of the room grumpily. Y/N can hear him curse himself but she’s not really paying attention, instead lying down next to Steve’s thigh. He cards his fingers over her back, still scrolling through his StarkPad. “You have to make it up to him later, Y/N.” Steve chuckles and pulls playfully on her ear, earning a growl back. “You know how much he hates the rain.” She huffs, knowing that Bucky really doesn’t like it. He hates being soaked the feeling of wet hair plaster to his skin and, most importantly, the wet metal arm that he has to clean up later on. She licks Steve’s wrist before settling again. She feels the calmness overweight the excitement again. She relaxes under Steve’s touch and starts licking his leg in pleasure, even if it’s making Steve squirm a little. “Y/N, come here.” She looks up from her spot, seeing Wanda pat the space on the floor beside her, the magazine still in hand. She smiles at her and Y/N thinks she sees something shining in her eyes, so she huffs out a breath, licking a last time over Steve’s thigh and wrist. Just as she had lied down! She gets up nonetheless. She loves Wanda. She’s always so careful, knows which spots are magical while patting and she’s never disgusted with what Y/N chooses to turn into. She jumps from the couch and walks to the young woman. Her tail waggles a little as she settles next to her, licking over her face to make her laugh. She settles with a goofy grin on her snout, head on her paws, and huffing in content. The woman runs her hand gently through her fur, paying special attention to the spot behind her right ear, which she knows is Y/N’s favorite spot. Her tail thumbs a rapid rhythm on the ground. She can hear Natasha and Sam chuckle, just as Tony leaves the kitchen and comes into the living room, smoothie in hand. He eyes Y/N for a second, then settles next to Steve who’s tapping away on his StarkPad.
From time to time Tony complains about all the hairs she’s leaving or her scratching the furniture and walls while climbing, sometimes leaving other… things… behind but today seems as if he’s alright with her being a dog. He even steals more glances at her than usual. Y/N suspects that he would like for her to come over so he can pat her. Too bad she’s actually comfortable on the ground right now. But she makes a mental note to come to him later.
Wanda loves animals. She always tries to find some room for Y/N to get the love she needs and takes care of the animals she’s turned into when Steve and Bucky aren’t around or are busy. It does help her to keep herself calm and Y/N knows Wanda would be lying if she wouldn’t pay close attention to each individual. When do you actually have the chance to see a tiger or chipmunk up close and can touch them?
Sam mostly likes to coddle her or take her running. He’s found a lot of times with her playing on the ground and stuffing her up with treats. When they both are gone then it’s clear that Sam took her for a post-mission run. It helps him and her to get pent-up energy loose, clear the head after bad missions. On rare occasions, he even takes her to the VA. She’s always excited.
When Tony doesn’t complain about her fur then he likes to ramble to her in his lab, just like Bruce. It doesn’t matter if she’s shifted or not, they’re just happy to talk, Tony more than Bruce, though. Bruce likes to stroke her fur when she’s a cat to calm himself down. More than once has Y/N shifted in the jet after a mission to help him calm down when she noticed that his music doesn’t work. Sometimes she keeps him company when he has to stay behind in the jet. Then they’re often found fooling around with some mind games. Y/N then has to keep her animal instinct in charge so Bruce can see how intelligent the animal itself probably is. Y/N likes it because it means she’s learning more about the animals she turns into. Tony builds her playgrounds in his lab, like small labyrinths or tube mazes.
Nat actually is a lot different. She usually doesn’t let anybody see her vulnerable side, besides Clint and sometimes Bruce. But Y/N once has shifted and sneaked around until she found her in one of the empty offices on the other side of the compound. Nat had sat curled up and shivering, breathing heavily because of a panic attack. A weasel, Y/N was small enough to come up to her. She had climbed in her lap and done everything she could to comfort the redhead. In the evening, while they all ate dinner, she hadn’t brought it up, just send Nat a knowing smile and nod. Natasha later caught her alone in the hall and had thanked her. Sometimes Y/N now experiences some mental breakdowns, fierce anger, and a lot of other things Nat normally wouldn’t have shown anybody and tries to help as best as she can. The most surprising for Y/N was that Nat likes to cuddle, though. Like Bucky she seems to be touch starved and, on some occasions, she can’t hide it pretty well.
Clint is… well Clint. He’s like an overgrown excited child, no matter which animal Y/N chooses to be he’s the one trying to play with her. More than once she had bitten him while he overdid it but Clint never held a grudge. 
Under Wanda’s soothing touch Y/N nearly falls into a comfortable doze but the smell of Bucky’s returning scent lets her lift her head.
Bucky is one of her two favorite persons. She helps him just as much as he helps her. She knows he sleeps better when she and Steve are close to him, preferably in one bed, too. When Steve’s not there and Y/N is changed he can sleep almost just as good. Her animal form brings him an unknown comfort that her human form can’t while missing Steve. She suspects that, when Steve’s away and she’s not changed, that she reminds Bucky too much that Steve’s missing. So, changing it is then, it’s easier to pretend that Steve and she are away together and safe. Bucky never told her that it’s actually like that but Y/N guesses that it is. After the bad nightmares, he calms faster with a fluffy animal beside him, too. He doesn’t feel pressured to talk then. Also, Bucky is just as affectionate with her like an animal as a human. He presses kisses here and there, rubs all the right spots he knows, and just... is there. It helps that she’s in love with him and he with her. That’s why he can’t deny her anything.
Steve’s similar to Bucky and Wanda. He finds just as much peace in her changes, trying to draw her every chance he gets. That's when she stays still long enough, though. She is a really fidgety person and only stays in one spot long enough if she’s either comfortable, gets good scratches, is sleepy, or gets a lot of treats. Most of his art pieces about her animal forms are of her sleeping peacefully somewhere around the compound or on someone’s lap. But she loves those drawings. She made him copy some of them to hang up in her own room, which she only uses when she’s mad or feels overwhelmed and needs space for herself. Which actually happens a lot less in the last few months than it used to. Steve offered plenty of times to give her the originals but she always says that he should keep them for some sort of art portfolio. She stays with the copies. Steve actually enjoys the most of her changes, just as Bucky, in private. He sees more of them and Y/N isn’t opposed to change in front of both super-soldiers, with them being her boyfriends and all. Steve always tells her, that he likes to see her change. He finds it fascinating. Also, he can’t deny her anything but other than Bucky he never denies it.
Now her tongue lolls out, tail happily thumping against the floor as Bucky strolls in, scowl still on his face but clad in running gear and rain jacket. “Someone volunteering to accompany us?” He looks around but no one meets his eyes. A clear message. Y/N doesn’t take it, though. She stands up, nosing Wanda apologetically for leaving her but the woman only giggles and shoves her wet nose away. Then she walks up to Steve and sits down in front of him, right in his sight, head slightly angled with a whine and pleading look. She sees his eyes flicker to her and he pales a little, squirming. He can’t resist her, and she knows how to get him to confirm to go with them. “I… ehm…No?” Ohhh, his resolve is crumbling already. She doesn’t take his no. She whines again shuffles closer and places her head on his lap. The crease between his eyes deepens and his eyes flicker helplessly up, probably hoping someone’s saving him, but no one jumps in. Tony even smirks knowingly. “Okay, okay. Fine.” He groans, pushes his tablet in Tony’s hands, and stands up. He ruffles her fur before he walks past Bucky with a slight, but not real, glare. “I hate you.” His voice is muffled but Bucky laughs and Y/N starts jumping around again. She feels this itch to move growing, not being able to wait for a second longer. Bucky seems to catch it and whistles for her. “Ready beautiful?” She barks as confirmation, running up to him. Bucky grabs Y/N’s leash the moment she’s close enough and holds her back as she all but drags him to the elevator. He has his dear trouble to hold her still long enough for a grumpy Steve in rain clothes to join them in the entry hall before she starts dragging harder to get them outside, down the paths, and to the street by the forest. “Y/N! Stop dragging so much. You won’t get any air this way.” Y/N barks a little strangled but stops pulling. He’s right, breathing had turned out to be a bit of a struggle but she’s just so excited. The rain on her fur feels incredible. The air is warm and the rain is cooling, it smells fresh and the pitter-patter is a soothing sound in the background. She jumps happily through puddles, preferably the ones close to Bucky and Steve to try to get them as wet as possible. They both only scold her but she sees that they’re secretly smiling. And she caught Steve jumping in a big puddle that bucky just tried to not walk in, spraying him with muddy water. Bucky curses. “Dear God, Steve! Are you for real?!” The blonde only laughs. Steve looks relaxed and has Bucky’s hand in a loose grip, fingers interlaced. They walk for a little bit, chatting about everything and nothing while until the rain lets up a bit, though it’s still bad enough. At one point Steve takes the leash from Bucky with a distracting kiss and starts jogging slowly, leaving the brunette stunned, but for only a few seconds. He catches up pretty fast, even slapping Steve’s butt with a laugh. They continue jogging and Y/N happily follows. She likes running. The path guides them a little through the forest where the rain’s less heavy, due to the trees and leaves shielding them. Y/N takes some time to jump through puddles after Steve unleashes her and, to Bucky’s horror, rolls around in one particular muddy one. He’s in charge of cleaning her up this week and Steve gladly reminds him of that. Her light brown fur’s now a darker shade and she probably needs two baths to get everything out. Though, Y/N knows that that will lead to Bucky joining her in the tub, which then leads to soapy cuddles and doggy kisses while they relax. “Come on, doll. Please stop rolling in that. It’s cold and I’d like to go home now.” Y/N looks up from her happy puddle to see Bucky shivering. Both men are soaked through but Steve seems not to mind that much. She looks over to him and he only shrugs but nods. “We’re out for a while now.” She doesn’t feel the cold but Bucky’s wet from head to toe, his hair escaped his bun and hangs in his face, glued to his skin. Which he doesn’t like. She barks once and gets up, shaking herself and getting muddy water everywhere. She really doesn’t want him to get sick or freeze to death, so she lets him set his pace back after attaching the leash again. It’s not like she needs it but Bucky once said that he likes to have her on the leash. It brings a calm that he never really knew of. They nearly arrive at the entrance as Y/N suddenly stops. The pitter-patter is louder here. She looks around and finds a corner where the water flows from the roof in big fat streams. Excitement overcomes her, she barks, jumps happily from paw to paw, and looks at Steve, who’s still holding her leash, tugging a little. “What?” She tugs again, taking a step closer to the little waterfall. She sees the moment Steve realizes what she sees. An amused smile graces his lips. “Alright. You clean up a little while playing, yeah?” She barks loudly, performing a little dance after she gets the leash off, and then sprints over to the stream.
She runs under it a few times, watching the mud coming off of her and flowing on the ground to get spread by the rain. She even lies down for a second and turns in the puddle under the stream to get more mud out of her fur on every part that she can reach that way before standing back up. She jumps around a few times barking happily, then she tries to bite it. Snapping after it, as if it’s some sort of toy that gets pulled away at the last moment. She lifts her paws a few times to punch after the drops, getting water everywhere. The rain really is her favorite thing. The excitement doubles the longer she’s playing. Pawing at the water, biting, jumping back and biting again, then dancing around it only to repeat it. The feeling that she has is the one that she associates with being a little puppy. She feels happy and fidgety, the urge to hunt and play is overpowering everything else. She looks up to see Bucky and Steve grinning at her. Steve hugs Bucky close to warm him up a little, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder now and then while the brunette points his phone to her playground, probably filming her to show the others later on. She barks again and continues playing until a loud thunder blasts overhead, startling her. Y/N whimpers, having been scared to death, and rushes back to her men, pushing close between their legs to hide. Steve almost falls back with her force running into him but he catches himself quickly. “Holy, that was loud.”
“Hey, little one. Got scared, huh?” Bucky chuckles, passes his phone to Steve, and crouches down beside her, patting her head lovingly and tries to calm her. He presses a few kisses to her dirty head. “It’s alright, just the mean sound of a very angry nature phenomenon. It won’t be able to do something.” He knows she doesn’t like any sort of loud sounds, thunder being one of them. Past experiences in her childhood have led her to get startled easily when any sort of storm hits. Panic attacks have occurred more than usual in these times, and still do. Though, Bucky is always there to comfort and help her. In some way, she’s similar to his panic. Steve always supplies them with hot chocolate, food, and treats. She whimpers again as some lightning hits the darkened sky and presses herself into his side. “Alright, lovely. Let’s get you both inside.” Steve eyes the sky warily before he looks at her and Bucky, motioning for them to follow. “How about a warm, calming bath and maybe a movie? Steve can make the bed to a cozy hideout, hm?” Bucky looks her directly in the eyes while scratching carefully under her chin. Y/N licks over her nose, then over his wrist in agreement. It sounds like a plan and exactly like something she had thought of before going outside. The man smiles and opens the door to get her inside. “Alright, up we go. By the way. Tony says if you damage any furniture your banned from the compound for the next week.” He laughs loudly at her unimpressed face. They all know that Tony wouldn’t get it over himself to throw her out, not even for a minute. He would miss rambling to somebody too much.
Just as thought Y/N gets her bubbly cuddles with bucky in the tub before he gets her out again and passes Steve the towels to dry her off while he cleans the bathroom. Twenty minutes later Y/N lies snuggled up to Steve under the heavy blanket, her head resting on his chest while he watches the movie. She tries to doze, blend out the storm outside while the shower is running with Bucky in it. “You alright, beautiful?”
She whimpers a little and shuffles forward a little so her head lies nearly next to his. “Sleepy?” She huffs in his ear. Steve laughs but starts scratching her tummy affectionately. She closes her eyes, enjoying the touch and warmth. “Okay, then we take a nap.” One lick against his cheeks seems to be all the confirmation he needs. The TV sound gets lower and the blanket is drawn up a bit more. Steve’s arms come around her, hands burying in her fur, stroking lazily over her head now. “Sleep tight, beautiful.” She feels his hands on her until she slowly drifts off, thunder nearly forgotten. Only the dip of the mattress and Steve’s and Bucky’s silent voices get to her until she fully succumbs to her dreams.
56 notes · View notes
hawkinsindiana · 4 years
Text
i don’t want you to worry
ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER ONE OF ELEVEN (?)
pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader
word count: 3.8k
a/n: six months later, here’s part three! i’m not gonna lie to y’all, i have no idea how many chapters there are gonna be or if it’ll get updated regularly, but fuck it. i’ve been sitting on this for a while and figured we could use a bit of levity! thank you for your patience! hope you enjoy! lmao i didn’t feel like making a gif pls forgive me
masterlist
Fog is hovering just above the ground; you can practically feel how thick and wet it is against your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck all stand as a gust of wind flows through the air - the freezing temperature makes you shiver.
The ground is wet, squelching underneath your sneakers as you move forward, still uncertain of where you are; the environment’s been completely coated in the dense fog. When your surroundings finally begin to clear a bit, your heart starts to race in fear once you recognize where you are. 
It’s the junkyard.
“Stay close, yeah?” 
The voice sounds like it’s right inside your ear, but at least he’s here - you’d recognize him anywhere.
Steve’s to your left, bat slung effortlessly over his shoulder, and his presence helps calm your nerves. You won’t have to face this alone. 
You want to thank him before the situation gets any worse, but your mouth won’t cooperate. All you’re able to reply with is a nod. 
Suddenly, the palm of your hand feels heavy with the weight of your weapon; Steve presses on, moving through the space to approach the threat that lurks beyond. A form begins to take shape behind the grey clouds, hunched down on all fours as it stalks towards your position. Your fingers tense as you prepare to fight and adrenaline begins to overtake you, until the silhouette rises onto two legs. It’s not supernatural, it’s human. 
You want to call out to Steve, tell him to fall back because it’s too dangerous but your voice still doesn’t work - you can’t warn him what’s coming. The soles of your shoes dig into the ground as you run to catch up with him, fingers extended out to grab and yank him away. 
But it’s too late. One moment he’s right there in front of you, the next he’s gone, vanished right before your eyes. You blink.
On the ground, Steve’s in the dirt, blood spilling from his face; Billy Hargrove quickly approaches.
And then, it’s just like that night. You’re unable to move, unable to save him as Steve tries to fight back but Billy’s too quick. His crimson colored fists are tearing skin with each impact until the brunette boy on the ground is lifeless, as if all warmth was drained right from him. Billy’s twisted grin never falters as he relishes in your pain, tears streaming down your face until-
You wake with a gasp, body jolting, hands shaking. 
God, it feels so real, like you’re still there; your nose can smell the disgusting metallic scent from the blood, skin still chilled from the temperature, veins still threaded with adrenaline. 
That was only a dream… right?
As soon as that thought is introduced to your worried mind, you throw off the covers before grabbing the nearest hoodie off the bed post. Tugging it over your head, your bare feet skid across the hardwood floor as you rush to the phone in the living room. 
Your fingers are trembling as you press the buttons of the number; you have to know if he’s okay. You have to confirm it was just a dream.
“Fuck, Steve,” You start to mutter to yourself, counting the rings to attempt to steady your breathing, “Come on, pick up, pick up.” 
The longer it takes, the more nervous you become. The darkness that surrounds you starts to close in, and when you squeeze your eyes shut, the image of him bloodied and lying dead in the dirt haunts you. 
“I swear to Christ - Dustin, if that’s you and those bozos again, I’ll come kick your ass myself,” Steve’s voice, tired and very irritated, comes through the speaker.
“Steve! Oh my god-” The back of your throat starts to burn at the feeling of tears welling up; the relief crashes over you in a wave, “Are you okay? Where are you?”
“What? Jesus-” He pauses, his tone softens once he hears it’s you, “Why wouldn’t I be okay? It’s nearly-”
Steve stops again; you reckon it’s to glance at the time.
“Shit, sweetheart it’s nearly two in the morning, what’s goin’ on?”
You sigh, finally realizing that you must’ve awoken him, “Fuck I just-”
The phone is gripped tighter in your hands as you speak, “I really just needed to know that you're okay. It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry-“
“No, no it’s okay-”
“But I-”
“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me,” Steve’s reassurance helps to slow your pounding heart; he’s okay. He’s safe at home. 
There’s nothing to worry about anymore.
You repeat that to yourself multiple times, whispering it to yourself under your breath. At this point, you think that you’d do anything to forget that night. 
Your back slides down the wall as your body grows exhausted from the severe reaction; Steve’s voice continues through the phone, “Did something happen?”
“I had-” You force a deep breath through your lungs, face scrunching in fear at the memory, “I had a really bad dream, Steve.”
Your arm wraps around your knees to pull them into your chest, forehead coming down to meet them and dig into the soft material of your pants, “I woke up and fuck, I was so scared. I was so scared and all I could think to do was call you. And I’m all alone. I’m all by myself tonight and I hate that I can’t be alone anymore. And I haven’t slept through the night in weeks-”
“Weeks? What do you mean weeks? I mean - I knew you weren’t sleeping well right after, but Christ it’s been nearly two months!”
You curse at yourself for rambling, words suddenly escaping your mind as you hesitate to respond. With your silence, Steve huffs; you can imagine the disappointment and worry over his face, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 
You bite down on your lip before answering, only letting up on the pressure when the taste of blood touches your tongue; you’re ashamed of the answer, “I don’t know… I’m sorry, Steve.”
All you feel is guilt in the moments that follow. Something like this… dreams about him dying in front of your eyes isn’t something that should be kept from him. 
“Hey,” Steve’s soft tone reels you back in, “You call me whenever you have to. I’ll always pick up, okay?”
You exhale as you nod, before remembering that he can’t see your reaction through the phone, “Okay, yeah. Thank you.”
“Of course, anytime. Are you okay?” 
You weave the phone cord between your fingers, “I’m better now. Uh, I’ll let you go then.”
“Okay. Try to get some rest, for my sake,” Steve pleads. You twist the cord tighter, “I will.” 
He sighs at your oath, finally able to relax a bit more, “Hey, we don’t have to do anything tonight, if it’s too much. Or if you’re tired… ” 
You hum at his words, head leaning back against the wall. A smile creeps over your lips at his consideration, wishing that you could thank him in person for his words, “No, no let’s do something. It’ll be good for me.” 
He laughs a bit; even with how horrible the quality might be through the receiver, it still makes your stomach flutter with butterflies, “Okay, good. I’ll see you tonight. Get some sleep.”
“I’ll try, Steve.”
After wishing him a good night, you place the phone back onto it’s base. Standing up on wobbly legs, a shaky exhale leaves your lungs when your fingers remove themselves from the smooth plastic. The image of him is still there when you blink.
Fuck - you should’ve told him.
Three taps against the window pane startle you awake. Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, you check the time - you were only able to finally fall asleep twenty minutes ago. Anxiety starts to creep over the back of your neck - until you see the culprit. 
“Jesus…” You mutter to yourself. You can’t help the small smile that erupts over your face at the sight of Steve, fingers nervously drumming on the window sill. His expression relaxes a bit once you come over, and you’re already rolling your eyes as you move to pull it open.
“You know that I’m the only one home, right?” 
Steve nods, not following your logic, “Yeah? And?”
“You could’ve just come to the door, Steve.”
The boy in front of you shifts at your words; his retort stutters as he tries to come up with an excuse, “Okay, alright. But you know, I didn’t want to scare you or anything!”
You step back to cross your arms over your chest, “And coming to my window while I sleep seems a whole lot better to you?”
“Alright whatever, Henderson,” He answers quickly, waving off your tone, “Will you just let me in already?”
You gesture for Steve to enter, laughing quietly to yourself as he does. As soon as he’s crawled his way through the opening, you latch and lock the window closed. He huffs, “You have no idea how thrilled I am that your house only has one floor.”
“Did you drive across the neighborhood just to scare me?” You ignore him, pulling the cord on the lamp by your bedside. The light illuminates the worry on his face.
“No, I just-” Steve pauses as he fiddles with his keys, “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you said. I had to know you were okay.”
You nod, crossing your arms over your chest once again, “Y-yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Steve’s brow raises at your deflection, “Um, did we not have the same conversation over the phone?”
“We did,” Your answer is laced with a bit of aggression, “You didn’t need to come all the way over here, okay? I’m fine now-”
“But are you?” Steve interrupts. His voice is genuine, soft, and you want to spill everything because he has that look in his eye; you’re not sure you can push him away forever.
“Of course, Steve-”
“Don’t lie to me,” Steve puts more force behind his words - it’s like a demand. He takes a few steps closer, “Please don’t lie to me.”
Hearing Steve plead with you like that makes your heart shatter. It’s killing him to watch you stand before him like this. He’s known you long enough to know when something’s not right, and he’s gotten especially good at reading you over the past few weeks. And by the way your jaw clenches, Steve knows you’re about to crack.
A shaky inhale comes through your lips; you have to tell him something. But how much?
“I just… I don’t want you to worry,” You mutter. Your voice is just above a whisper, although it doesn’t matter; it’s not like there’s anyone home to overhear. You’re scared to admit there’s something wrong. He shouldn’t have to do this for you.
Steve almost laughs. He runs his free hand through his hair, “It’s like, a year too late for that, you know.” 
You sigh, realizing that he’s absolutely right. Of course he should worry, especially with how vague the conversation over the phone was. Letting him in is something that you’ll have to get used to.
Even though you’d been friends for a while, it was always more about him than you. You always wanted to be there for him, if he ever needed anything, how he was doing. It’s something neither of you understood was happening until your relationship became more; it was no one’s fault. 
All of a sudden, Steve realized just how much you’ve done for him - he’s wanted to return the favor. And this… is all new to you; you’re not used to someone checking in. 
“Oh god, you’re right,” You mumble under your breath. Your hands come up to cover your eyes in shame as you continue, “I’m sorry, Steve. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
Witnessing your sudden change in mood, Steve moves towards you; he sets his keys down on your nightstand as he does. He goes to reach for you, pulling your body into his, “Hey hey, it’s okay, it’s fine.”
He wishes he could come up with something better to say. You’ve always been better with words than him. You’re better at a lot of things than him. But he’s trying - he’s trying to be better to be worthy of you.
Your arms wrap tightly around him once Steve’s pressed against you. He smells like freshly washed cotton, like pulling sheets from the dryer when they’re still warm.
It’s all so overwhelming, it makes you want to cry. You feel like you should, but the familiar burn behind your eyes never comes. Instead, you resume speaking.
“I guess I just…” You trail off, wanting to give him a reason - he deserves one.
Your fist knots the fabric of his tee; Steve’s palm slides up over your back, “I’m just not used to leaning on others for help. I’m trying to get used to it.”
“Sometimes it’s okay,” Steve’s reply is muffled by your hair. He ponders what to add, lips pressed into a firm line as he thinks, “Sometimes you gotta do stuff on your own and sometimes you need somebody else. That’s just how life works.”
Your chest heaves as you sigh at the weight of his words, this moment cements a single fact inside your brain - you won’t plan on hiding anything from him.
Well, except for that one thing. You’re still not ready to admit that to him yet. 
You wish that pulling away didn’t mean losing his warmth; but his gentle eyes meeting yours mimics a feeling like it that fills your chest. 
“You can lean on me, you know,” Steve says, and the smile that was already pulling at your lips widens even farther. And then he nudges you - his mouth curls into that stupid smirk of his, “However you want.”
You crack a laugh, accompanied by a roll of your eyes, “Yes, I know. Sometimes I just need a little reminder."
Suddenly, you remember just how lucky you are to have him. How fortunate you are to have him there to brighten your darkest moments, even if he’s sometimes battling his own demons at the same time. 
“Thank you,” You say, bringing your gaze back to meet Steve’s again. He nods slightly, tone genuine and soft as he answers, “Of course. Anytime.”
The pads of your fingers graze over his cheekbone before tucking a strand of brunette hair behind his ear; Steve shivers a bit at the gentle touch before you meet his lips in a kiss.
He still gets a bit nervous each time, only because this feels so much more different than the others. The level of comfort and security he feels when you’re in the room was never there before he met you. Like really met you.
And you - well, you’re still so overwhelmed that you finally, after all that time, get to be with the one you love - you feel like you could jump out of your skin with joy. You’ve treasured every single moment, because it’s never been lost on you how it all could be taken away in an instant.
The brilliant grin you two share after pulling away shakes it all from your mind. Your fingers move to grip his hands in yours; you just like being able to do it, even if it is in the privacy of your own bedroom.
But then that feeling settles in your stomach, the one that doesn’t go away until morning. The dread that something’s going to happen. Steve can sense your growing anxiety - it’s almost like the air surrounding you changes. Leaving you now, something about that doesn’t sit right with him.
“I’ll uh, stay if you want.”
He mentions the idea quietly because, well, you’re not officially together. But to be fair, he hasn’t asked - but neither have you. Even though your hands are still in his, pressing into his skin, Steve finds it important to ask and make sure you’re on the same page.
You can’t lie - the idea of Steve spending the night makes you a little nervous. Although, knowing that you’re safe with each other might just be the push you need to relax. And with that thought, you’re stepping away from him, “Okay. Yeah, sure.”
The doorknob is so cold against your skin as you exit to grab an extra pillow from the closet in the hallway. The darkness of the living room seems to go on forever; it almost feels like something’s creeping up your neck once your back is turned to it.
After quickly shutting the door once you’re back inside, you turn around to see Steve, perched silently on top of your comforter - his presence warms the entire room, bringing life and love into it.
He hasn’t spent that much time in this space; he’s trying to take everything in, because it’s very reflective of you. There are neat piles of VHS tapes and comics on top of the dresser, a closet dominated with dark colors and sneakers, and some of your well worn denim tossed over the desk chair.
But his eye catches on a stack of photographs on the desk’s surface, and he’s halfway across the room before you can interject. You clutch the pillow a little tighter to your chest as Steve flips through them, laughing at one of you and Dustin from a few years ago at Christmas wearing matching pajamas.
He spins to show it to you, “I’m never gonna let him live this down.”
You approach his side when he finds another one of you as a child, playing with a cake battered spatula in your previous house. Baby curls framed your face, and your eyes were wide with adventure and wonder, “Holy shit, look at you!”
“I don’t know why I remember that day so much,” You mutter.
Steve’s silence pushes you to continue, “It was Mom’s birthday, and my grandparents baked her a cake - double chocolate I think. I wasn’t tall enough to reach but I wanted to help so badly. So they sat me on top of the counter and let me mix everything. They even let me tell her that I made it.”
You laugh quietly before the memory turns cold in your mind, and your wistful smile turns to a slight frown, “I haven’t seen them since we moved here.”
Steve isn’t even looking at the picture anymore. He listened to every word that left your mouth; you don’t speak much about the rest of your family. Instead of trying to probe further, he leans over to press a kiss to your forehead, a gentle and silent reminder of his support.
This feels strange. Opening up to him like that, making yourself that vulnerable - that’s a level of intimacy you haven’t explored quite yet. At least not with him… or anyone really.
Thankfully, it hasn’t seemed to scare him off. If anything, Steve’s more relaxed. He likes knowing how you feel.
Steve flips through the others while you rest your chin on his shoulder, your eyes intently watch his reaction to each one - you think you could stay in this moment forever.
And then he comes across one - an image of you and the kids on Halloween a few years back all dressed like Jedi. He pauses on it, “When do you think we should tell them?”
A sharp inhale comes through your nostrils at his comment; you hadn’t thought about that.
In all your bliss, you had completely forgotten - no one else knows. Not even your brother.
“Oh God, Steve-” You start, removing yourself from him, “I don’t even know how we would do that.”
“What are you talking about?” Steve replies, turning back to meet your gaze, “We just… tell them. It’s not rocket science.”
You squeeze your eyes shut as you answer, clenching the pillow a bit tighter in your grasp, “It’s really not that simple with them, Steve. You know that. And honestly, I still feel like I’m trying to figure out how to do all this.”
You sigh, running a hand through your hair, knowing just how messy involving the kids could make your relationship, “I’ve kinda liked it just being about us. You know, we’re together because we wanna be, it’s not for anyone else. And trust me, they’ll have so many opinions-”
“So let’s keep it to ourselves then,” Steve interjects, shrugging his shoulders a bit as he answers, “We’ll tell ‘em when we think it’s right, when we’re sure if this is serious or not.”
You hated keeping your feelings for him a secret. You hated that you were never able to tell him, but this is different. The idea sends a rush of excitement through your veins, you can’t deny it.
He smiles a bit and sets the photos down before continuing, “I know it might be too early to tell, but I feel like this could last, you know.”
You feel blood rise into your cheeks when he looks at you like that - irises filled to the brim with admiration. His hands come up to cup your face as you reply, “Me too.”
Steve leans in to drink a slow kiss from your lips, the kind that leaves you breathless when it’s over.
“Good,” He mutters, earning a small grin from you. Steve takes the pillow out of your grasp, “What do you say we try and get a couple hours of sleep in? I guess Dustin wants to go to the arcade before lunch.”
You laugh, pushing your hair back away from your face as you answer, “I will never be able to get used to that, I’m sorry.”
Steve tosses the pillow onto the empty spot on the mattress while you pull back the comforter. The bed dips as you both settle under the covers; Steve’s arm starts to slide over your waist before stopping abruptly, “Is this okay?”
You clear your throat, “Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”
The darkness washes over the room after you pull the cord to the lamp; it doesn’t feel as scary with Steve lying behind you. His touch stops your mind from wandering as it so often does - it can’t concoct anything to torment you with.
That being said, the sight from the earlier nightmare does appear behind your eyelids when you blink.
“It was about you,” You mutter, “The dream.”
It’s spoken before you can stop yourself. You instantly regret it, due to the lack of a reply that follows.
But then Steve tugs you closer, and you feel like you could melt against him. He tucks his nose right underneath the base of your hairline, deeply inhaling as you relax into him.
“I’m sorry,” He mumbles against your skin; your fingers curl around his as a quiet thank you.
Steve thinks that this is probably what home is supposed to feel like - warm clothes, the scent of your shampoo, a comfortable silence to lull you both to sleep. He doesn’t think he’s ever been more comfortable.
And for the first time in what feels like forever, the pair of you have finally found a bit of peace.
taglist: @stevebabey / @mrsukai / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing​ / @mikariell95​ / @pilunb​ / @harringtherin​ / @royalestrellas​ / @ultrunning​ / @buggs177 / @poutfull​ / @yoheyyosup​ / @duchessdaisybat​ / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury​ / @beththebubbly​ / @i-bitch-you-bitch​ / @captainstilinskis​ / @juliebean247​ / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender​ / @rexorangecouny​ / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior​ / @jointhehunt67 / @wallacetdog​ / @ketchuplukehemmo​ / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x​ / @elite4cekalyma​ / @marjoherbo​ / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass​ / @alafolieee​ / @mochminnie​ / @phantomalchemist​ / @dustyblueboo​ / @alonewolfsblog​ / @ggclarissa​ / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​ / @bippityboppitybabe​ / @readinthegarden12​ / @bakugouishusbando
if you wanna be added to the taglist, just lemme know!
471 notes · View notes
heli0s-writes · 4 years
Text
IV. Symbiosis
Summary: “Since you’ve been caught—” Fury squints, “Canoodling With The Allegedly Injured James Barnes, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s already halfway finished with digging you up. Forgeries. Petty theft. Grand larceny. The damn rest of the kitchen sink. So, Ranger…” The way he says it is both lazy and threatening, completely on brand and irritatingly calm.
“Here’s my suggestion: get ahead of this thing before it knocks you on your ass.”
A/N: 4.8k words. I’m a liar who lies because after 4 months of overthinking and coming up with diddly squat, here is part 4 of Trinity Epoch sans smut. I’m sorry! I’ll double your pleasure next time. xx Thank you for sticking with me, I’m so sorry it’s taken so long.
Warnings: Language. References to canon-typical violence.
Trinity Epoch Masterpost
Tumblr media
Bucky stays like that a while longer, just breathing.
Your fingers trace his hair—running through the strands, over the shell of his ear, then resting briefly on his cheek. All the ways you used to with Natasha when she’d break her own heart, or maybe ways you would have liked her to have done for you when you felt like you were dying a little bit.
You feel it now: a small death in the wake of last night’s simple touches. Your body and Steve’s body curled around each other sprung something immeasurable, as if the drift flowered then and ripened beneath your skins. You bit into it. You savored its taste. You could have lived on it alone.
Everything smears together like a child’s careless hand in a mess of paints until all the brights muddle dark. A shaky breath as you work yourself into calming, trying to find coherent words while your head remains a pot of sideways soup, at best.
Bucky shifts until he’s looking up at you, nose millimeters away. His irises are just a touch more gray, a sprinkle less green. You can see Steve in him, just as he can see Steve in you and then your eyes begin to prickle, Nat’s face undulating behind the burn.
You don’t really know what you want to say. Maybe apologize, run, beg for forgiveness, grab Bucky by the shoulders and shake him until he understands that you didn’t mean it— you didn’t mean to hurt him. That you love him. That he lives inside you, too.
His ghost from the drift— the aftermath phenomena of the neural bridge when pilots take on a bit of each other’s consciousness out of the cockpit and into the world with them. Take two people with a predisposition for the drift into the cockpit into each other’s brains and they exit heightened—sharper, better—imbued with each other’s strengths and knowledge. Mind-meld long enough, deep enough, and your core endures, but you become a different beast.
When Steve’s consciousness bled into yours, so did Bucky’s. If you walked away with half of Rogers, you also got a quarter of Barnes and it only compounded worse during Polidori’s drop. Resurrecting trauma, agitating itself, making a mess of your weary soul.
You relived his amputation last night, just as fresh as you relived Nat’s death. More visceral than the first trial run, you witnessed him—felt him—torn and hoarse, clutching his shoulder as he rocked helplessly inside Orion’s chest, frayed wires sparking across his cheek and landing in his own blood. His teeth gnashing together as he tried to hold on for Steve’s sake, steering his co-pilot’s panic back on course. Terrified and agonized, but he was hellbent on making it out.
Bucky who made you laugh. Bucky who took you to dinner. Who walked with you, gave you his jacket, listened to your rambling and crying, and kissed you because you reminded him of his co-pilot, or maybe of himself.  
How could you not love him, after all this?
Armageddon slows for nothing though, and before the first letter of his name can fall out recklessly from your mouth, three precise thumps jostles it back in.
Steve’s voice is muffled through heavy steel. “You in there?”
The door slides open with a tremulous croak but neither of you bother to separate. Nothing seems to matter now.
“Buck...” Steve looks from one raw face to the other, stepping forward and reaching out. He grasps Bucky’s hand. “We should talk—” he closes his mouth into a thin line, shoulders slumping heavily before letting go. “I’m sorry. Later. Shit’s hit the fan.”
-
The office is stagnant air full of questions but other than the squeak of the marshal leaning back in his chair, nobody makes a sound.
Fury untucks a finger from the crook of his elbow before pointing it between your eyes.
“Culpability.”
Across the room, you flinch in his crosshairs. Standing apart from them, you’re partially slack against one of many steel filing cabinets, using it to prop yourself up in case your knees might give out as vertigo descends.
It’s been a lot to take in. Everything— the night, the morning, emotionally, mentally, physically. The hull is a steel cage, and pilots are well armored, but you’re still hooked up to the robot enduring damage, taking hits at barely .0001 percent, but taking it all the same. You’re bruised up good beneath your clothes— Polidori’s claws leaving four tender imprints of a scratch to Orion’s right shoulder. Your shoulder. Steve’s shoulder.
To your right, he shifts. A tiny hint of pain streaks over his expression before it falls serene again, fixed on Fury.
“Since you’ve been caught—” the marshal squints, “Canoodling With The Allegedly Injured James Barnes, I wouldn’t be surprised if someone’s already halfway finished with digging you up. Forgeries, petty theft, grand larceny, the damn rest of the kitchen sink. So, Ranger…” The way he says it is both lazy and threatening, completely on brand and irritatingly calm.
“Here’s my suggestion: get ahead of this thing before it knocks you on your ass.”
This thing, being any story a 13-year old kid with two thumbs and a twitter account can spin between now and when you let Pepper Potts spin it for you first. There’s not a lot imagination can’t conjure to fill in the blank pixelated space between Bucky standing on the curb and you right behind him wearing his cap and jacket. Not to mention that once speculation goes live, it starts sprouting all sorts of appendages with minds of their own, and no matter how diligently you might cut one off, two would only sprout in its place.
The marshal stands up and takes heavy steps before turning the corner of his desk, absently tapping a pile of folders together like they’re not already in a perfect column. He slips a manila folder out from the stack and it becomes obvious that his suggestion is just buildup to some other type of impetus.
When you open the file up under his sharp gaze, you feel the blood drain from your face and possibly from your entire body.
The bullet he aimed between your eyes hits home. Cue your brains blowing out slow. Impetus met.
“Jesus Christ,” Bucky appears over your shoulder, staring at the same grainy photocopied document. “You can’t be serious.”
“Do I look like I make a lot of jokes?” Fury leans forward, pointer curving over the top edge, tapping emphatically one, two, three times, even waving it back and forth in front of your unseeing eyes. “I’ve got a good contact inside the PPDC who risked a lot to get this out. They’re just plans for now, dogeared behind other pages, but don’t doubt the Corps’ cowardice for a second. The second this program looks like it might not hold up, they’ll turn their efforts there.”
You’re gone. Trapped between the lines, vehemently scanning the page, reading the same words over and over until they no longer make sense. But it’s not like they made any sense in the first place.
ANTI-KAIJU WALL: CONSTRUCTION AGENDA. SPRING 2020.
The conception of a perimeter stretching around the Pan Pacific—North and Central America, East and South Asia to isolate emerging Kaiju. It’s a fetal skeleton at most, the roughest of outlines for a plan, and truthfully, it’s no plan at all.
It’s shameful. It’s shit.
The so-called Wall of Life implies the portending death of the Program—of all Shatterdomes and Jaegers. It implies no support, no funding, and no repairs. No Kodiak. No juniors. No future.
Back and forth, you’re still desperately inspecting as if the words might shift into a new message, maybe one that didn’t spell out certain extinction, but despair is rippling across your face. Bi Fang and Polidori had wings, and they were only Category II. Bi Fang massacred one of the best pilots you’ve ever known—and it was only a Category II. Any higher and they’d blow through that wall like a ribbon of wet toilet paper.
Hysteria creeps up at the mere thought of it, fear stubbornly lodging itself in your throat. Nuclear-powered automata—the only proven defense against the terror of massive alien attacks are being dismantled in favor of steel rods and cinderblocks. They might as well build it out of Legos.
Anti-Kaiju Wall. A string of ants meeting a boot.
You’re panting softly, tongue swollen in your mouth, shaking with equal parts terror and rage, on the verge of breaking into inappropriate laughter and yelling.
“What—what do they expect?” You croak, “The breach opens, the fucking thing comes out, sees a fence, and what—they think it’s—going to crawl back in…?”
“Hey, calm down,” Bucky curls his fingers around your elbow. His hand and its black plates are peering at you, purring, dull gold bands threading at the knuckles. For a second, the prosthetic disappears. For a second, he’s blood red again.
“Hey!” Bucky grips tightly when you sway. “I’m fine! Don’t—don’t.” Steve’s jaw is set firmly on your other side, arms crossed so severely his biceps bulge with the strain.
“Nick,” He’s abruptly brusque as he eases the file from your grip. “Give us a minute.”
“You’re in my office.” But the marshal’s words hold no bite. He’s already won; he knows. Cornered again, he’s got you same as before in Red Cloud. 
You get the gist: play out your redemption arc and come clean with your record. Win over the public, hoard all the additional support and funding you can because you’ll need every goddamn cent of it when the PPDC rips it away. The gossip. The photos. The headlines. It’s the perfect opportunity for a few hundred million when the media is putting a magnifying glass on your presence in Hong Kong.
Duty. Duty. Duty.
You’re just one small part of this colossal puzzle—a negligible smear of guts across the battlefield trying to keep the rest of the pieces together while the PPDC sits in their panic rooms throttling the entire fucking thing.
Fury steps to the cabinet and slides the file back in its place, keeping the illusion of it being just another unremarkable envelope in a row of hundreds of others. The metal drawer shuts with a clang, housing the most damning piece of information you’ve ever seen. His tact aside, you know he would never show you his hand like this if it wasn’t completely necessary—or pertinent.
Steve was right, you understand now.
The world owes you. And it owns you.
-
The next six—seven?—hours scatter like pulled teeth with your head spinning like a top the entire way. Pepper had been outside the door for the conversation, waiting on standby to whisk you off for princess lessons. Having already (and correctly) predicted your compliance, Fury scheduled an interview for precisely at nine. Then you were off, towed along by Miss Potts and her hasty strut.  
You try to find perspective, reminding yourself that you’ve successfully gone toe-to-toe with the Empire State Building with fifteen rows of teeth seven fucking times and come out on the other side alive and if not in one whole piece, then at least 2-3 relatively serviceable pieces. You’re functional. A little damaged, but fine enough. But there’s also the fact that you’d just hopped out of Orion not even 24 hours ago coupled with how you’re suddenly in the middle of something that feels less like a confused love triangle and more like divine providence at the end of the world.
Fuck. No time to think about it now. The human brain is not programmed to multitask, and you’re hanging on by a mere thread. You prioritize making it through the night just as alive as you can make it out of a drop. Just a couple of hours and you can rest. Just a couple more.
After what felt like an eternity and a half of simulating Q&A, practicing your posture, smiling into a mirror, and one horrible limo ride where you stared dead-eyed out the window—Steve and Bucky’s steely gazes after you—the building finally comes into view.  
Hair. Makeup. Wardrobe. You wear pants. You smile for the camera. You don’t stand in the middle of the group photo.
8:55 and time halts to a near stop. You can hear your heart in your throat, or in your skull. Your eyes feel switched from their sockets, or stomach rotated 30 degrees. Someone fixes your mic wire, your blouse collar, asking you to turn just a little over there. Three cameras are pointed to capture every angle, punitive red dots angry and glaring.
A live broadcast was agreed upon to ensure the least amount of potential edits and skews, as well as the charmingly quaint idea that it’s unscripted. The rub, therein, lies upon the burden of poise and a flawless performance. You rehearsed lines until your jaw felt like it was coming unhinged. Then you did it again. 
Everything requires precision, and you keep that in mind with your hand on the glass of Dom Perignon being constantly refilled. An amicable gesture by the hosts, but their intentions are cunning: loose lips sink ships, and they’re betting on yours to sink the S.S. Orion Bravo.
Out of view, the translator sits with her legs crossed, listening to the questions before turning the words over in English.
You take a sip of champagne and it fires off like a gunshot—Cantonese and English in rapid-fire verses.
<2017 was a fateful year for both the Jaeger Program and the world. Beloved pilot Natasha Romanoff sacrificed her life to protect Alaska’s coast in a final battle against Category 2 Bi Fang. Memorials dedicated to Romanoff’s efforts appeared across every nation to lament her death and celebrate her heroism. Yet, somehow, no one seemed to be asking the million-dollar question: Where is her co-pilot?>
<Two days ago, pictures were taken in Hong Kong of James Barnes and a mysterious woman. Our sources here at TVB have worked tirelessly to uncover her identity.>
<Today we have the pleasure of introducing her to everyone tuning in. This is the first time you’ve ever been in the public eye, and astonishingly, next to two of the best pilots in the Program. There are so many questions, but first, the whole world wants to know…. why keep it secret?>
The host’s open hand urges your reply.
The lights seem to turn up even brighter. Your back starts sweating. The room is about to collapse. In short, naturally­­—infuriatingly—you choke.
Seven hours of droning like a broken wind up toy, already knowing how to answer this question by heart, prepping yourself for the interrogation, the relentless demand to publicize your grief, to placate the people about your relationship with their heroes—and, you choke.
Bucky’s chin tilts microscopically in the corner of your line of vision. You’re fine, he’s saying, you got it. He’s strangely calm, even pleased, as you stutter involuntarily. Like he’s the first to remember an inside joke you’d long forgotten, his grin widens the longer you look at him. Steve turns next. Focus. Don’t fight the drift. The drift is silence.
And suddenly, your shoulders ease. The static in your exhausted brain slides out of your ears.
You sit up tall. You smile. It doesn’t quite feel like your smile, but, it’s a good one. You know this smile; it’s Steve’s smile. Like a seamless assembly, you fall into rhythm.
The white of his teeth slip out from between Steve’s lips. He notices too.
You calmly recite the introductory speech you’d been practicing for the last two hours, feeling out your new voice, borrowing from his bearing—deeper, smoother, certain. The major points get run through: your record and own personality traits keeping you from the spotlight, admitting genuinely that you’re pretty damn uncomfortable now, so they’ll have to forgive you for any slip ups. It goes over well, as Pepper predicted; “candid” blunders made Rangers human—made them likable.
When the subject of Anchorage rolls back around, you can practically feel Steve’s jaw bulging preemptively. You graze his foot with yours as a warning to back off.
<It’s remarkable that you were able to bring the Jaeger back to shore, there has been only one pilot who was capable of that—>
“I’m thankful to have had Stacker Pentecost as my mentor. I owe so much of my resilience to him. It was difficult, but simply put, I had no other choice. I feel so lucky to have survived it.”
<Natasha Romanoff-->
“She was one of a kind.”
<Was it hard to—>
“Yes.”
The host clears his throat, visibly awkward that you’re being so terse, but taking the hint until  Bucky turns into the spotlight, that divorced happiness he’s so skilled at beaming into the lenses. 
Steve easily picks it up, steering the conversation where he wants it to go. He’s disarmingly sincere as he relays the process of Bucky’s injury, replacement, apprehension, and finally success
His bright blue eyes flicker secret messages and you decipher them all.
“The connection was like—"
There’s a bell chiming in your ears. Bright, crisp chirps of it, cutting through laughter and bickering. You taste summer air in your throat, Bucky’s hair flying in the wind. “Riding a bike…”
“Exactly. New bike, same motions, and it worked. It was great. We learned things about each other. Some good, some bad—”
Crosshatched pencil lines of their shared apartment. Smudges of charcoal in a sketchbook. “He’s an unbelievable artist, but—”
“No— don’t say it!”
Bucky smothering a small kitchen fire. Steve throwing a damp rag on him in a frantic attempt to assist. Your voice is bubbling out gleefully. “—an awful cook!”
“It’s true,” Bucky smugly chimes in. “The boy can’t boil water. Breakfast eggs come with shells every time.” You can taste the grit between your molars—crushed grains inside an overdone omelet, Bucky spitting out spinach and feta cheese.
“Oh my god,” you sputter into a sip of champagne. “It’s so bad.”
“Do you see what I have to deal with? Two people knowing my secrets. Two.”
<Fantastic! Already we can see a great friendship here—>
It seems congratulatory, but there’s determination to drive into scandalous territory, poking at any rumor to lance and leak. A sly smile crosses his face as his assistant shows photos of you and Bucky in the city, but the lurid suggestion only gets shrugged off. “We’d gone out for dinner. It was the first time I’d left the Shatterdome after Seigehook and I needed moral support.”
<The jacket tells a different story.>
“I’d give you my jacket if you looked cold.”
<Steve, Ophelia isn’t concerned that your new co-pilot is a woman?>
“No, absolutely not. ‘Lia’s the first person to support Orion—and the loudest. I don’t know what I’d do without her. You don’t have her behind the curtain, too, do you?”
<Well, what about personal memories? Won’t you know everything about each other…? Private things?>
“Sure, but what pair of pilots don’t? You got twins and siblings, not just married couples. Look, here’s the thing: the neural bridge doesn’t take you to a filing cabinet. It’s not open like that. It’s more like—somebody help me—” Bucky snaps his fingers your way, “—what’d you call it the other day?”
You didn’t, but you say, “A dream?”
“Right, a dream. If you think about it, you can pull on it, but if it’s not in the forefront of your mind. It’s a non-issue.”
“We’re all adults here,” Steve confirms.
<Do you plan for James to return to the cockpit? Is that the goal? James, how do you feel about all of this, taken away from your own Jaeger?>
Steve’s palm faces outward as if keeping the host at bay— or, you think, keeping himself at bay.  “Hold on. This isn’t about replacement. Nobody is framing it like a nail in the coffin—we’re in the interim of a period of time, readjusting. Short of death, nothing is going to take him away.”
Sunlight. Recruitment. Ice baths. Training until they had to carry each other to bed. Your eyes flutter, head pilfering through the memories like instinct.
“James is still Orion’s co-pilot.” You agree. Apprehension. Dread. Terror. Confidence in each other even when they didn’t believe in themselves. They were together. Nothing else mattered. “Steve’s co-pilot.”
The tight look on his face is temporarily wiped as he beams proudly, “He’s my Bucky. Always has been, always will be.” He claps Bucky on the back twice and each thump’s echo bounces its way into your chest.
Bucky bristles and sputters, but a healthy pink dusts its way across his cheeks, “Don’t embarrass me, Rogers.”
“Are you blushing?” You tease, elated.
“Don’t you start, either.”
<Well… this is very wonderful. Is there a possibility we’ll be seeing a triple-piloted machine? The Tang triplets have been in talks for a new model.>
Steve shakes his head. “We haven’t discussed it yet. Nothing’s off the table, by any means. Just not priority at the moment.”
<What is priority at the moment?>
“Normalcy, as much as we can get in the middle of all this.” Bucky holds out his hand, closing it into a fist, letting the camera zoom in. “We’re… still working through all the kinks, balancing the personal and global.” 
He flexes his fingers, letting the microphones pick up the drone of machinery, but his meaning is another secret. Clicking Morse codes of well-oiled obsidian plates purring two names. You’ve stopped listening to everything but the echo incandescent in your heart.
You down your glass.
-
Champagne tipsy, you try not to stagger through the lobby. The doorman nods toward the limousine parked faithfully by the curb.
The barrage of questions slowed after it became apparent that there would be no sensationalist headline. There was attention to Bucky’s arm, his handsome face, of course, before the banter quickly devolved into entertaining frivolous sidebar queries. Five flutes bubbled down your throat and by the end of it, you no longer wanted to grab camera one and shake the shit out of it, anger whittled down to a dull hum of annoyance.
Thirty million stupid dollars for inane reels of:
What’s in your purse? What do you eat? How do you stay feminine in a Shatterdome full of testosterone—have you tried any K-beauty skincare routines? Do you have anyone special in your life?
Bucky went in, then, leaning forward until he was nearly rocking off and leveled his glare. You know she’s on the other side of the same robot, buckled up into a ninety-pound rig steering two-hundred tons of—
It took a miracle (see: Steve’s firm hand discreetly on the back of Bucky’s neck and Pepper drawing a sharp line across her throat) to effectively halt the derailing train.
“I can’t believe,” Bucky grouses now, opening the door and waving the driver back to the front. “Those goddamn questions.”  
“Does wiping my sweaty face with my even sweatier shirt count as skincare? What’s the K stand for?”
Bucky smacks the back of your head with one hand, other clumsily yanking the door open with the other. “For Korean—have you been living under a rock? Just—get in the fuckin’ car.”
You slap him back. “Quit it, you invalid.”
“Invalid? I’ll show you a fuckin’—Steve, did you hear—”
“Both of you, get in the car.”
And you shriek, scrambling in and yanking Bucky along by the scruff of his jacket. Mischief courses beneath your skin, encouraged by clever alcohol, now fully buzzed its way to every extremity.
Still giggling and leaning into the thrill of it, you slump over the smooth plastic molding of the door and press your face against the tinted window. It’s a cool reprieve on your warmed cheek, frosting when your temperature meet the glass. Bucky’s easy Cantonese, albeit slurred, is requesting a ride back to base. His hand has found its way into yours, fingers laced large and warm, clasping tight before he lets go.
“Haven’t had a drink—oh--” you murmur, catching yourself as the wheels shift.
“Since Red Cloud.”
“Outta my head, Rogers.”
“Says the person who kept finishing my sentences during that interview.”
“It’s the champagne! It makes me—“
“Stupid?”
“You’re an ass, Barnes.” But you’re laughing at him, at the way he’s smirking— cheeks gone ruddy. Both of them, open beside each other, heads inclined intuitively together. It makes you ache to see—to experience again after disruption—Rogers and Barnes. Barnes and Rogers. Perfectly fitted.
The partition slides up. The sunroof tugs open with a whistling draft.
Hong Kong’s lights are vivid—too much to properly see the extent of space’s beauty, but there are a few twinkles you’re able to make out in the moonless night as light poles and skyscraper tips whiz overhead. They’re brighter than most, simple to spot patterns in the dark.
“Orion’s out tonight,” you mutter, moving to catch the line of its belt, “Look. Beneath his feet is Lepus, the hare, pursued for all time.” From across, Steve follows, also looking to find their hero as your hair rustles wildly, making a hurricane against your ear.
“Don’t be so fucking dramatic,” Bucky scolds. He’s annoyed and comfortable on leather, ankle crossed over opposite knee. “You’re not being chased by anything. Besides, if you were a constellation, you’d probably be the soup ladle.”
You laugh. He’s always playing the part of a stoic so well. “Hey, I’ll have you know the Little Dipper’s got the north star in it. That soup ladle’s gonna be the thing that gets you home when you’re lost.”
The tone shifts—time dragging its pace as you look at them in wonder. The city’s overripe heaviness of the blows through, making goosebumps on heated skin.
“Buck,” Steve says, and Bucky slips his jacket from his shoulders to slide over yours. He tugs the lapels down like he’s trying to keep you on earth and your hands clasp on his wrists for a second before you let go. They’re both sitting up now, watching your bleary gaze unfocus.
Steve and Bucky oscillate in front of your eyes, their lines blurring until it doesn’t really matter who you’re looking at—until they become one. So easy, like this, just them like two sides of the same coin, belonging so seamlessly to each other.
“Sorry,” you blurt in shame, “I feel like I fucked it up. Ruined a thing that wasn’t mine to ruin.”
“Think you put it together,” Steve responds quietly, and the simplicity of his statement throws you off. “We found our way.”
“Soup ladle,” Bucky jokes.
“But, aren’t we just trading one war for another? World peace only made it because of monsters.” Unspoken questions hidden inside large-scale metaphors— symbiosis could only be achieved under the lies of other relationships. Whatever this would be, it wouldn’t be accepted. Steve still retains his supermodel girlfriend and you and Bucky dutifully fall in line for your own packaged little PR lies.
He shrugs. “I’m fine with losing a few battles in this war, but Orion’s got a good track record, doesn’t it, Buck?”
“Twelve— thirteen kills, sweetheart.” Bucky’s grin is lopsided. “Don’t forget you made that happen.”
“Thirteen’s an unlucky number.”
“Feels lucky to me.” Steve’s hand wraps around your wrist, thumb resting on your pulse. He taps your skin, looking genuinely apologetic. “Listen, all I can do is ask— and I’m not good at asking for things. I just want to make them happen.” A quick glance at the watch under his cuffs and he tugs at your arm like a lost child, “So, before we get back… will you come here?”
As he said, he’s not really asking. More like reaching his will out to you, finding you when you’re caught in the undertow and pulling you back to safety. To them. Okay. Okay.
Your footing slips, but they take your hands and turn you carefully, letting you settle in between. Bucky hums a low sound, fingers curling around your waist. Steve does the same to the opposite side and you feel both torn apart and held together by them.
Steve nuzzles your neck, hot on your skin.
“She was wrong,” he whispers, barely audible over the sound of your rising breath, “You know that? She was wrong, and I was wrong. I thought it couldn’t happen—thought I had other priorities, other things to manage and settle and save and... I lost sight of what matters most. But I’m gonna really fix it this time—I’m gonna do it right by you.” 
He looks to Bucky, pained and relieved, “Both of you, I promise.” He takes Bucky’s hand in his own and holds it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, his palm, saying softly, “I love you, Buck. I’m sorry you waited so long.”
“Hey stupid,” Bucky says shakily when your chin starts to quiver at the sight of them. He’s sniffling and swallowing his syllables, unable to stop himself from staring at Steve’s face in his hand, how Steve kisses the blue pulse in his wrist. “Ain’t you—too pretty to cry?”
The rocking of the car flattens out as Steve gently presses his lips to yours, letting the trail of salt bursting down your cheek into his mouth. He moves to the line of your jaw, promising,
It’s okay. I got you. Nothing’s gonna hurt you anymore.
They kiss you and the world turns itself right.
They kiss you and then they kiss each other. Again and again and again.
234 notes · View notes
wyn-n-tonic · 4 years
Text
Golden, Like Daylight -- Part II
Word Count: 1,846 Warnings: References to drug use. PTSD. Ben Affleck. As always, if I forgot anything please message me and I'll amend this warning. A/N: Protect Francisco Morales at all goddamn costs, honestly. 
MASTERLIST | PART: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX
Tumblr media
“Fish?”
He cringes inward at his military nickname, it rips at his heart hearing it drip from his best friend’s mouth now. This man he would die for, almost has died for. None of the others had called him that in years, he insisted on Frankie with them. But he’d barely heard from Santiago, had no way of telling him.
He hears the words he’s saying, same shit he always says:
“I need a pilot. I can’t do this thing without you."
Years of that shit pulling him into another tour here. A deployment there. Again and again. Long after he served his sentence and was free to go.
“I don’t know, man. I got the new baby now,” he beams. Santi didn't know Luna and all Frankie wanted to do was tell him about her but he holds back, opting instead for, “And my lady isn’t into my doing this kinda shit anymore.”
He looks back at Will, a knowing look exchanged between the two. He is begging for his brother to step in, say something. Save him. He’s throwing Leah under the bus but, fuck it, it’s true. She isn’t into him doing this kinda shit anymore. And she wasn’t the biggest fan of Santi, always coming up with shit to get the rest of the boys into.
“Wha—what does that mean?”
Frankie lets out a breath he feels like he’s been holding all day and stands, knowing he’ll start shaking if he doesn’t. The knee bouncing is getting out of hand but he was hesitant to seek out anti anxiety medication while detoxing. He’d just sweat it all out anyway. Santiago’s droning on behind him, hell bent on staving off rejection.
“Did you read the text? This can change you and that baby’s life forever.”
Leave it to Santi to exclude Leah, he wasn’t necessarily her biggest fan either. But to just gloss right over her? Didn’t even fucking ask Luna’s name.
He crosses his arms, “What happened to that bullshit about going back to your mother’s homeland and empowering the people to police themselves?”
Santiago stares him down, a power grab of a laugh escaping him.
“Anyway, I lost my license. I can’t even fly right now.” Please just drop it, please just drop it, please just drop it.
Benny’s wrapping his knuckles. William’s looking between the two. And Santiago? Santiago is closing the space between them.
“I don’t need a pilot with a license, I’m in with the army down there,” he says as if that makes things better. It doesn’t. He knows it, Frankie knows it, the Millers know it. But if there’s one thing Santiago Garcia gets, it’s his fucking way.
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Frankie’s firm, he’s not fucking doing it this time. He’s worked too goddamn hard on everything. Built a life out of rubble and was this close to pissing it away, he’s not gonna seal the deal on Leah’s promise to go.
Santi paces, frustrated, “Lorea is destroying that country. So we get to take out a very bad man, and, oh, by the way, there’s a winning lottery ticket stuck to the bottom of your cowboy boot.” He says that last bit with a mock tone and he’s smiling, believing he’s got Frankie now. A bit of a tease to rile his best friend up, get him laughing, get him in it. “Every guy in that gym would jump at this.”
“Come on, focus, guys! It’s fight night.” —————
“Hey!” He catches up with Santi in the hall, “I didn’t mean to call your shit bullshit.”
He didn’t, really. He knows where Santiago’s coming from but he can’t be the one in the thick of it anymore.
Another of those cool, indignant laughs, “It's all right.”
“I got busted,” Frankie says coolly, like he’s letting you know he left the light on, “it’s not a big deal.”
Santi’s head snaps to the right.
“Actually,” the taller of the two continues, “It's a big deal.”
“Coke?” Santiago’s trying not to let Frank’s addiction shock him, scoffing, “Jesus, Frankie.”
“Technically, it’s a suspension, I’m still under review but… it fucked everything up with Leah. I’ve been detoxing in Will’s spare room for weeks.”
“You’re telling me she didn’t know before the suspension? I don’t buy that.” Frankie tried to ignore the venom in his words.
“No, she knew. We’ve been in couple’s counseling while I’ve been getting clean, she said she didn’t know it was as often as it was. Just thought it was a hit here and there.”
“So things are good still?”
Frankie takes a deep breath, “We seem to have gotten back to good but that’s not where I wanna be, Pope. I wanna be great.” He looks to Santi and then Will, “What about you? What are you gonna do?”
There was no doubt in the world where Benny stood. He’d follow Santiago into hell. He pretty much had on more than one occasion but Benny always was a wildcard. Will was too calculated for that bullshit, he needed a plan. He needed foundation under his feet, not just charisma and Frankie would follow him. Frankie owed him his life. Will was the one to convince Frankie to hang it up. The one putting a half dead Frankie in cold showers and pumping his fucking stomach on no sleep. Will was the one Leah called when Frankie got too close to the edge. His brother, Luna’s godfather.
“I said if Redfly’s in, I’m in.”
Fuck! Fucking Tom. Frankie takes his hat off, adjusts his hair. I fucking hate Tom. —————
“Tom is not in our wedding,” Leah glared down the kitchen island at Frankie, arguing again about the goddamn wedding party. She didn’t even want it anymore. Had thrown her hands up, on more than one occasion, and begged to just run down to the courthouse.
And it all circled back to Tom fucking Davis.
“We served together for ten years, Leah! It’s a bit fucked up to have the rest of the boys up there in tuxes, Tess as our flower girl and Tom is,” he flails his hands out, “Three rows back with that one coworker who brings you coffee every Friday.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d let Tom sit that close to the altar, Francisco Morales. And next to Alexa? She is my angel and Tom Davis will be nowhere near her, do you understand me?”
“Then marry Alexa, babe!”
Leah put her hands on her hips, “Bitch, I might.”
He breaks and laughs, lifting his hat to rub at his forehead, “What do you want me to tell him then? You have plenty of friends who could be a fourth bridesmaid.”
“How about you drop Benny too?” She shrugs, “Just keep Will and Santi and I’ll keep my sisters. Two and two.”
He throws the hat on the counter, “YOU LOVE BENNY!”
“You're right, baby,” she laughs, eyes bright. A challenge on the tip of her tongue. "Drop Santi.”
He charges after her, ready for her words, and chases her through the house. Their house. Still nowhere near unpacked after a month and he’s cursing the unintended obstacle course he’s laid out for himself. She’s making quick work of it but, fuck, he’s out of shape.
He runs up the stairs, back screaming with every step as he gains on her. It helps his legs are much longer than hers.
She makes it to the bedroom, spinning to close the door but he grabs her before she can, pinning her down with all his weight. She insisted on the nicest sheets they could find and almost never made the bed, preferring to fall right into the softness without much work.
He ran his hand down her body, drumming his fingers in a soft rhythm until he reached her thigh, hitching it over his hip.
Her heart was still racing from the chase but Frankie felt it tick upwards as he placed his lips on her neck.
“Francisco,” she whined, “we can’t do this right now. We have to do grown up things.”
He smiles into the soft skin, “this is grown up things.”
“You know what I mean.”
He looks up at her, “hmm…” He’s got her right where he wants her, none the wiser as he reaches down to her knee and—
“Frankie, what are you doing?” Her voice comes out an octave higher, panic in her eyes pleading with him not to when the corner of his mouth crooks upwards and—
He digs his fingers into the soft flesh at the bend of her knee, smile blown wide as she screams out like a hyena.
“Stop! Stop!” She laughs through labored breaths, “baby, it was just a joke.”
“You're not funny,” he lulls with a kiss.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” her eyes filled with hurt and conviction, “I'm hilarious so… ya know, jot that down.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“But Tom fucking Davis is not in our wedding or I swear to god, Francisco Morales, I will call the whole goddamn thing off. It is my day and I’m not having his big Irish head in my wedding photos for the rest of my life.”
He laughs again, “Fine. But what should I tell him?”
“Tell him I fucking hate him.”
“You don’t hate anybody, baby, I don’t think you’ve got that in your heart. Be serious with me, please. What do I tell him?”
“Tell him,” she thinks for a second, because she absolutely does have the capacity for hate in her heart, “that I can’t choose amongst my friends for a fourth bridesmaid and so I just want to keep the party small with only my sisters.”
He seems satisfied by that, nodding his head. “But I am keeping Santi.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“But…”
Her stare is like daggers, “I’m not talking about Tom anymore.”
“No. No, it’s not that,” he’s laughing, his life is all laughter now. “I just still think we should set Pope up with Kristyn.”
She’s pushing out from under him, sitting up for the higher ground. Her finger is in his face, her words are measured, “If Santiago Garcia even so much as looks at my little sister, I will do what so many have tried and failed to do before.”
“And what's that, sweetheart?”
“I will kill him.”
The whole bed is shaking with his laughter now, “You're right, baby, you’re hilarious.” —————
Will’s in front of them now, hands on his knees, “What's the verdict?”
Tom looks at Frankie, then to Will, “I'm in for the recce if you guys are.”
The world goes quiet, replaced by a high pitched ringing in Frankie’s ear as he downs the world’s shittiest beer.
Fuck.
“Fish?” Santiago’s voice cuts clear through, always had.
Frankie lowers the plastic cup, “When is it?”
“We leave Thursday.”
Fuck.
Again, he lets go of a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, staring off into the ring. Staring off at nothing and everything.
“Okay.”
This could change his family’s life forever.
Fuck.
TAGLIST: @justanotherblonde23 | @greeneyedblondie44 | @icanbeyourjedi | @notcookiebelle | @princess76179​ | @bbuckysbeardd​
118 notes · View notes
jaycewrites-192000 · 3 years
Text
Growl: Chapter 6
Warnings: None
Tags: @theravencawsatmidnight @etroman @kaariqueen
Tumblr media
Your P.O.V
I sat on my bed, phone in hand trying to think of what to say to Kyotani. I would type out a few words then immediately delete it, because it sounded really dumb or really desperate. "Why is this so hard?" I groaned. I could say whatever to Iwaizumi and Oikawa and it wouldn't bother me later on, but with Kyotani...I just really don't want to mess this up. I looked back down at my phone screen, took a deep breath and typed.
Me: Hey Kyotani, it's me Y/n, did you make it back home?
I held my phone to my chest, I didn't even want to see the speech bubble pop up. But when it did, and my phone dinged, my stomach did a backflip. I looked at my phone.
Kyotani: Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah? That was all he typed? I sighed slightly, well, he never was a man of many words.
Me: That's good. So, about coming over again. How does tomorrow night sound?
"Wow, way to be clingy." I mutter.
Kyotani: Sounds good.
I blinked a few times. "Whoa really? That worked?"
Me: Cool! I'll see you then.
Kyotani: See ya.
I let out a weak sigh and fell back onto my bed. Before I fell asleep I went back to the texts and changed Kyotani's name to:
🐶Mad Puppy🐶
He might have the personality of a feral wolf, but he could be as cute a little puppy. I smiled softly before drifting off to sleep.
Tumblr media
Your P.O.V
Your alarm jerked your awake early the next day. With a groan you sat up and turned it off and checked your phone, you gasped when you saw what day it was. "It's Saturday!!" You cheered before flopping back down on your bed. It might be immature for you to act like a child when it came to the weekend, but Jesus did you hate waking up early to go to some boring classes for eight hours a day. Besides, you had a very important day ahead of you. Tonight was the night you went over to Kyotani's place for dinner. The grin on your face only grew wider. "It's like a date...only his mom is going to be there too..."
Speaking of moms, you needed to tell your mom you wouldn't be home early tonight. "Oh great. She's never going to get off my back over this." You sighed. You got up and changed out of your pajama's and into some comfy clothes before heading downstairs. Your mother was just on her way out it the door once you got to the bottom of the stairs. "Hey mom!" You called, making her stop. "Yes sweetie?" She turns to face you. "Um, is it cool if I go over to a friends for dinner tonight?"
"Hm? You mean Iwaizumi?" She asks. "No, not him."
"Oikawa?"
"No."
"...uh, then who?" She mutters.
"A new friend. Remember that intense guy I told you about? His name is Kyotani." You tell her. "Huh, I see. Well first I'm happy that you're making new friends sweetie." Your mother smiled. "But are you sure this "intense" guy is a friend? I just want to make sure you're not being bullied."
"I'm not being bullied. He is a pretty angry person at times but, he's actually really cool too." Your mother took a minute to think about it. "Alright, you can go. Do apologize to them for me. I won't be there."
"You won't?" Your mother shook her head. "I work late tonight. I won't be home until midnight. Which I expect you to be home before then, understand?" Your mother raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I promise. I'll tell them." Your mother pats your head and opened the front door. "Good, I'll see you later." She waves before leaving the house. "Of course you're working late again." You mutter as you walk into the living room. It never use to bother you as much before, but the more you thought about it and the more you watch her leave, the more it bothered you. She was always working, even during the weekends. You two hardly ever talked at times. You sat on the couch and decided to watch your favorite show to pass the time.
Tumblr media
After a while, your phone dinged.
Shittykawa: Heeeeeey L/n-Chan! Wanna hang out? I'm free all day~😙
. . . . .
Shittykawa: Don't ignore me!😫
You: That was my answer.
Shittykawa: Your answer was pure silence?
You: Yeah. 😒
Shittykawa: Whatever.🙄 What are you up to?
You: Lazying about. Something you would know well huh, Lazykawa?
Shittykawa: So. Rude. What about later tonight?
You: Can't. I have plans.
Shittykawa: Liiiiike?
You: What's it to you?
Shittykawa: Come on! The least you can do is tell me!
You: Uggggh! I have dinner plans with Kyotani ok!?
. . .
You: Shittykawa?
Shittykawa: YOU HAVE A DATE WITH MAD DOG!?
You: It's not a date!!!
Shittykawa: Really? You? Him? Dinner??? Is it not clicking L/n-Chan?
You: His mom is going to be there, dumbass.
Shittykawa: I just can't believe it... You. And Mad Dog??? Of all people???
Me: What's so wrong with that?
Shittykawa: First, I can't believe you chose him over me 😭 Second, he's not exactly the ladies man. He's more the, scare and intimidate everyone he comes in contact with, man.
Me: Oh shut up Shittykawa. Kyotani's cool. Now if you'll excuse me, he's texting me right now. So I'm gonna get to that if you don't mind 😡 Besides, we all know you gay af.
You didn't bother to read what Oikawa texted next.
Mad Puppy: Hey. You still on for tonight?
You: Yeah totally! I'm really looking forwards to it.
Mad Puppy: Cool. My mom's been pestering me about it all fucking morning. It's like she's trying to play matchmaker. It's ducking creepy.
Your heart twinged a bit at that.
You: Oh yeah? Sorry to hear that.
Mad Puppy: It's whatever. Just telling you ahead of time, she's gonna keep this up the whole night. I just know she is. Anyway, I'll call you later ok? I gotta take Killer on a walk.
You: Ok. Talk to you later.
You bury your face in your hands. You had a feeling that tonight was going to take a lot out of you.
Tumblr media
Later that night you stayed close by your phone, just waiting for that call from Kyotani. You had already gotten ready ahead of time, just so you would have to be in a rush later. You wore a short (color) dress with leggings.
(I know that must suck, but give me a break idk what outfit description would satisfy you all lol)
You didn't want to be super dressy but you didn't want to look like a bum in front of Kyotani and his mom. Speaking of, your phone lit up as the ringer went off. You scramble to pick up your phone before answering. "H-hello?"
"Hey, just checking in. You all ready to go?"
"Yep, I'm ready. I'll be over soon."
"Oh uh, actually...I'm on my way to your place....I didn't want you to walk alone at night."
You held back an "aw", you knew it would make him mad. "That's really nice of you Kyotani. Thank you."
"Yeah, I just figured you'd feel more comfortable if you were with someone. Anyway, I'll be there in a few."
"Ok. I'll see you then." You hung up and held your phone to your chest, the brightest smile on your face. Who knew Kyotani could be so nice? You never thought that you would have fallen for someone who looks pissed 24/7, but here you are.
Tumblr media
Shortly after, Kyotani was knocking at your door. You took a deep breath and opened the door. "Hi." You say softly. "Hey." He responds. "You ready to go?" You nod and walk out the door before shutting it. "Oh yeah, forgot to mention, my sister will be there too." He tells you. "Really? What's she like?"
"She's a l bitch." Kyotani says bluntly. "Oh come on." You laugh. "Is she really that horrible?" Kyotani nods. "Yep." You just rolled your eyes. You didn't have a brother or sister, but you understood that siblings would pick fights and "resent" each other from time to time. "Is your dad gonna be there too?" Kyotani remained silent, his eyes narrowed. "No." Oh....You decided not to press for more questions, not yet at least. You didn't want to ruin the night by bringing up touchy subjects.
Before you knew it, you were at his home. Kyotani knocked on the door, which was immediately answered by his mom and Killer, who was barking and jumping on you. "Oh, look at you Y/n! You look stunning! Doesn't she Kentaro?" His mom gushed. Kyotani nods. "Come on in! Dinner is just about ready!" You thanked her before stepping inside. At the table was a girl with black hair and the same yellow eyes as Kyotani sat. She wasn't really paying attention to anything or anyone, aside from her phone, which she tapped away on. "Natsuki, we have a guest. Put that thing down for once!" Her mom says as she walks to the stove. Natsuki sighs heavily and puts her phone down. "Hey." She mutters. "You my dumb little brother's girlfriend or something?" You and Kyotani's faces turn red.
"Shut your trap, Natsuki!" Kyotani growls. "She's way too pretty for you, mutt." She smirks. "I said shut it!"
"Both of you shut up!" Their mother yells. "Sorry about my two idiots Y/n." She smiles. You just wave it off. "Uh, don't worry about it." Kyotani and Natsuki's mother set down a very delicious meal on the table. Everyone sat down and gave thanks for the meal before digging in. "Wow. This is really good!" You say as you take another bite. Kaori smiles warmly. "I'm glad you like it. You should take some home for your family. I may have gotten carried away and made a little too much. I was just so surprised that my son brought over such a sweet and beautiful young lady!" Kyōtani grumbles a curse under his curse. Your face warmed up. "I'm kinda surprised myself." You admit.
"Same here. Ken has always been weird. Never thought girls would be interested in him." Natsuki says bluntly. "Tsk. And I never thought guys would be into you, guess I was right, huh?" Kyotani counters. The two siblings were caught in a glare off with each other. "I say cut it out, both of you!" Kaori hissed.
Tumblr media
The rest of the night was filled with conversations about school, and marriage, much to Kyotani's dismay, and just causal convo. There were more compliments about how nice and cute you were from his mom, and some questions from his sister for you like "so how much did my brother pay you to hang out with him?". They had to be one of the most chaotic family you've met, but you did enjoy their company. It was getting late, time for you to head home. Once again, Kyotani walked you home. "Thanks again." You smile softly. "Yeah, sorry about my mom and sister. Must have been exhausting." You shook your head. "They were great. I had a really good time tonight. Make sure you get back home safe ok?" Kyotani nods. "See ya." He turned ad walked away.  You wave before walking inside your home. Your mother still wasn't home, you decided to head up stairs and catch up on your favorite anime.
While watching, your phone dinged. You looked down to see a text from Kyotani.
🐶Mad Puppy🐶 I had a good time too. Night
You smiled and texted back.
You Good night 😊
Tumblr media
Previous | Next
26 notes · View notes
world-of-aus · 4 years
Text
Behind the Screen - (Part 1)
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 5,412
Warnings: smut 18+
Author’s Note: First chapter guys, i had a lot of fun writing this, and i hope you all enjoy this first chapter. Smut is also not my forte, but i like to try new things so i hope i did it justice lol. If y’all would like to be added to the tag-list for future chapters, or taken off please send me a message! Feedback is always appreciated in anyway, so let me know what you think, let me know your thoughts what your expecting! Thank you for reading!
SERIES MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
“Hey Wilson, you seen y/n?” Bucky questioned from his spot on the couch.
Sam shook his head, “Yeah earlier, she said she had something to do real quick before she was going to join us, shouldn’t be long.”
“Wasn’t that like 30 minutes ago?” Steve spoke up.
Sam shrugged his shoulder his eyes not leaving the TV screen, “I don’t know man, if y’all are so worried why don’t you send Tin Man to go find her.”
Bucky mulled it over before he was pushing up from the lounger, “where you going Buck?” Steve called out over his shoulder as Bucky retreated from the room.
Bucky didn’t bother with a reply, they all knew he was going to get you.
You were perched on your bed laptop in hand, your fingers working over your latest post the white glare from the computer illuminating your features. You couldn’t wait to get this new post out; your newest work had your readers begging for more, there just wasn’t enough time in your day to crunch out the words that bounced around in your mind. Recently your readers had begun to get antsy with you especially behind “anon”, there was many coming after you for not writing Bucky to the best of your ability. How did they expect you to give them your best work when you didn’t know how the man was in bed? It’s not like you could confront your teammate and ask him to help you write fanfiction about him and how he pleases women in bed.
I mean imagine the conversation,
“Hey Buck so you might not know this about me, but I write fanfiction,” awkward pause, “about you, and well do you think you could maybe guide me through it?”
You scoffed rolling your eyes at your inner dialogue, you stared at the blank white screen the cursor blinking at you, waiting. Your fingers hovered over the board, but your mind was drawing blanks, the words were there not even a minute ago, how did you lose them so quickly. You groaned pushing the laptop to the side, maybe it was time to go join the others, it had been a little over thirty minutes since you had told them you would return. Deciding you needed the break from the screen you pushed yourself from the bed making your way to your bathroom to freshen up.
Bucky walked the quiet hallways passing the other team's quarters before he finally came across yours. Bucky never bothered knocking, if he reached for the door handle and it wasn’t locked, he would just let himself in. Entering your room, he saw no sign of you except for your lone laptop that he had recently seen you glued to. He wasn’t sure what had you so entranced to the screen, but at the same time he understood it could possibly be a hobby that you were working on, especially during down time from missions or training. He looked around your quarters and noticed the sliver of light peeking from the bottom of your bathroom. Deciding to wait for you, he walked over to your bed plopping himself on the cushioned comforter. He reached for you laptop to see if he could get a peek at what had you glued to the device, and a peek he got. His cheeks were flamed rosy, his pants suddenly feeling a little tighter, while he wasn’t sure what to think, he was tickled pink at the words he read. So, this is what you did on your past time. He looked over the browser, his brows scrunched in confusion, what was Tumblr?
“Barnes what are you doing with my laptop?!”
Bucky looked up from the screen eyes blown wide matching yours, “Uh, I could ask you the same.” he murmured turning your screen to you.
Your heart dropped into the depths of your stomach, face going deathly pale, oh god, oh god, he knew, gathering your bearings you lurched forward lunging for the laptop in his hands. Bucky ducked out of your way falling back into your pillows laptop still clutched in his grip. You crawled half on top of him, “Goddamnit Barnes, give me my laptop back!” you growled.
He continued to dodge your attempts at grabbing your possession, “not until you explain what this is.” he grunted, his metal appendage pushing at your head.
“There is nothing to explain,” you hissed, “now give me the damn thing!”
You continued to claw your way up his body, though for every inch you climbed you were quickly scooted down by the cool metal pushing at your head.
“Nothing to explain?” he questioned, “I think there’s a lot to explain, like what the hell is Tumblr, and why are there people writing about me and some person named “y/n” he grunted “did you just bite my finger?” he questioned eyes glaring at you.
Your movements stalled, “Oh I'm sorry, I didn’t realize your vibranium hand had any feeling.” you deadpanned.
Your eyes caught the moment Bucky’s form began to fall, being a trained assassin had come in handy, taking your chance you lunged forward getting a grip on the laptop. Bucky grunted at the awkward position, “Jesus Christ,” he grunted, “what the fuck, ow!” he growled, “fucking hell y/n!” Bucky being stronger than you pulled the laptop from your measly grip flinging It to the side as he pushed you onto your bed, his frame covering yours, “would you stop fucking squirming, if it was nothing why are you putting up such a fight,” he grunted catching your swinging hands in his, pushing them down into the bed.
“I'm putting up a fight because you were going through my personal things, ever heard of the word privacy nosey ass” you hissed glaring at him.
Bucky rolled his eyes at you continuing to push your frame down into the bed, maybe you could use this as a future reference.
“Now that you’ve stopped squirming maybe we could actually have a conversation.” he murmured looking down at you.
Dread filled you again, “There’s nothing to talk about Bucky, at least nothing I want to talk about with you,” you groaned, “will you please just leave it alone.”
“I won’t leave it alone, I think I deserve an explanation,” he voiced, “you either tell me what I want to know or we can be like this all night.” he grunted applying more weight onto yours. Jesus, you could really use this as a reference but you weren't sure how to describe “Dead weight” would that even be considered sexy, you weren’t sure it would have your readers on the edge of their seats thighs clenched, cheeks rosy, giggling behind their phones, as they read your latest post.
“y/n, doll!” he muttered snapping his fingers in front of your dazed face.
You knew there was no getting out of this, there was definitely no denying what he had seen, possibly read. God what had you even written, how much had he seen. You knew this wasn’t going to end good, “what do you want to know?” you murmured, eyes not meeting his.
“what’s Tumblr?”
You sighed, you were really going to do this, you’re already in the rabbit hole, might as well keeping digging yourself further. “Tumblr is a blog site, users can post different types of media on it, they post videos, pictures, written posts - ”
“is that what you do?” he questioned cutting you off.
You groaned cheeks turning pink in embarrassment, “Yes buck, can you please get off me, please,” you murmured.
“who’s x reader, also who’s y/n, do I know them, because I don’t recall doing any of what i read with them.”
Your eyes slipped shut, oh god you couldn’t breathe, you prayed that a hole would open up beneath you and swallow you whole, “Barnes please get off me, I don’t want to do this!” you grunted trying to buck the man off you, you were on the verge of a panic attack.
“No, not until you explain it to me, then I'll get off,” he grunted applying more of his weight down onto you. This man was a damn wall of muscle, it was useless, there was no getting out of this, a growl left your lips, “Fuck okay, I’m not sure what you saw, but you more than likely saw my blog, and I write on my blog as I answered earlier,” you groaned, you didn’t want to say it, “I also,” a pause, another moan of embarrassment, “I also,” deep breath, “ I also write fanfiction about you,” oh god you cringed, this sounds much worse coming out of your mouth than it did when the words had been in your head. “the reader is anyone who also like me sits behind the screen of a computer reading the posts, and y/n is the reader, its abbreviated for your name, and no you didn’t do any of those things but it’s what writers like myself imagine you would do.” a sigh left your lips, eyes clenched undeniably tight, god you wanted this nightmare to be over, “can you please get off now.” you whispered feeling utterly ashamed.
You felt his hands leave yours, the weight and heat of his body a distant memory as he shifted off of you. Your eyes remained screwed shut, god you had really done it now, you should have never started the blog, what were you expecting. He was probably getting ready to go tell the others what you were up to, tell them everything he had seen, tell them about you embarrassing past time.
“Can you show me some more?”
Your eyes shot open, head turning to the side to see Bucky staring at you intently, your mouth parted slightly, “excuse me?” you choked out, he couldn’t be serious. “You can’t be serious,” you murmured.
“oh, I’m serious,” he murmured grabbing a hold of your laptop and pushing it towards you, “here.”
You glanced from him to the laptop, then back, “you’re actually serious?” you questioned brow raised.
“wouldn’t still be here if I wasn’t,” he murmured sliding closer to you, “now come on, show me, I'm curious.”
You cautiously flipped onto your stomach, you weren’t sure he was ready for what exactly was out there, but he had asked, and if it kept the attention off of you, anything would be better.
Bucky was glued to the screen, his eyes roaming the vast words and posts written about him, your eyes stayed trained on him looking, watching, waiting for a reaction, there was none. He was stiff as stone.
“this is all wrong” he muttered turning to you, “i wouldn’t do this.”
You raised a brow at him, “its fanfiction Bucky, it’s not supposed to be real,” you explained, “the writers are doing just that, they’re writing they’re perspective of you, some of them are really talented.” You added.
“Well yeah I can see that, but still I wouldn’t do it like this, they didn’t capture me right I wouldn’t get straight into it like this.”
A laugh slipped past your lips, “Bucky the writers on the other side of the screen can only imagine these things about you, they won’t always get you down to a T, they can only imagine how you’d be, how they would want you to be.”
“so, then you do it,” he voiced perking up, “write me and this y/n character, there's no one that knows me better than you, well aside from Steve, I could guide you through it.”
Your eyes went wide slightly, “buck I don’t think that’s a good idea, I never wanted you to find out about this and now your offering to help me write, you can’t be serious.” you murmured.
“it could be fun,” he exclaimed, “who better to help write about me, than me.” he deadpanned.
You groaned your hands coming up to cover your face, “bucky you honestly don’t know what you’re saying, you shouldn’t even be this calm about all of this, for fucks sake you just found out I write about you and now you want me to let you help me write,” you paused, “about you, you sure your arm didn’t short circuit and mess with your head?”
Bucky chuckled deeply his hands reaching up to pull yours away from your face, “Look I'm not saying that I'm not freaked out by all of this, but if I can be honest its kind of flattering to know so many people write about me like this, not that I can understand why” he murmured, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing a more accurate description, and who better to give that to the readers than someone that can be guided by me?” he questioned.
“bucky,” you groaned.
“come on doll, indulge an old man,” he teased, “help me, to help you.”
You couldn’t really be thinking this would be a good idea, but then maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad thing. Bucky could guide you through some parts of your stories that just wouldn’t flow through your finger’s right, maybe the grouchy anons would back off, you bit your lip in thought.
Your groaned your body flailing a bit as you really mulled it over, “fine,” you muttered, “but the second you get all weird I’m kicking you out, understood?” you questioned.? t.”
He grinned at you his hands rubbing together, “deal.” You really were beginning to think his arm had short circuited.
“One more thing, you can’t tell the team about this at all, it’s weird enough you knowing, I don’t need the others knowing what I do.” You voiced.
It was quiet for a few seconds before Bucky was speaking up, “do they write about the others?”
“Bucky would you stop squirming, you’re not letting me think,” you muttered turning your head away from the screen to glare at him.
He stopped moving eyes going from yours back to the white screen, you sighed rubbing your temples, you were really beginning to regret ever agreeing to this. It had been about thirty minutes since Bucky had taken a look at your most recent post you were working on, you were currently trying to rub out a steamy oral scene between Bucky and the reader and let’s just say it wasn’t happening. If it wasn’t happening before the whole ordeal with Bucky, it surely wasn’t coming to you now. You had tried time and time again for the past thirty minutes to find the right words but between the squirming super solider next to you, and your mind replaying the events of this evening it just wasn’t going to happen.
“alright that’s it, I can’t do this,” you sighed reaching to shut the laptop.
Bucky reached out for your hand stopping your movements before you could shut it completely, your head turned towards his, brow raised, “you're not capturing the scene right doll, you’re not capturing the moment right.”
Your head tilted back slightly in disbelief, “well excuse me,” you muttered pulling your hand from his, “if you know so much, why don’t you write It?” you questioned sarcastically shoving the laptop in his direction.
He sighed, “I'm not the one that has a way with words doll, that’s you,” he pointed out, “besides I'm better with actions.” he added eyes twinkling.
“so, what are you implying buck, are you going to show me how you please a woman orally?” you questioned jokingly.
He perked up, “I could do that,” he agreed, “that way you could really get into the right mindset, you could really be in the moment.”
You choked on your saliva looking at Bucky in disbelief, “Barnes I was joking!” you coughed, “I wasn’t being serious.”
“oh come on now sweetheart,” he grinned, “you would be knocking out two birds with one stone.”
“look at you learning,” you deadpanned, “and the answer is no Buck, now stop before I make you leave.” you muttered.
He turned on his side facing you, sliding closer laptop forgotten, “I’m being serious y/n,” he started, “you could get real life inspiration for the next part of your post, and also get some pleasure from it, it’ll be a win win .”
“okay that’s it,” you muttered sitting up, “out buck, I don’t have time for these games.”
He sat up with you, “who said I'm playing games?” he questioned.
You looked up at your ceiling a sigh leaving your lips before you were meeting Bucky’s gaze again, “Bucky, seriously, stop, this isn’t funny.” you murmured shaking your head.
Bucky’s hand reached out taking yours In his, “who said this is a game?” he questioned staring at you in earnest.
“You can’t actually want to do this Buck, I get that you discovered my secret, what I do on my down time, but you don’t need to help me with this, we’re best friends Buck, this could make things weirder than it probably already is.” you muttered pulling your hand from his, eyes looking away.
“Us being best friends should make this that much easier, you can tell me when you’re feeling uncomfortable and I'll stop, this wouldn’t make things weird between us, besides you’d be helping me too, we’d be helping each other.” he said his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers hooked under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him, stormy grey eyes staring back at you intently.
“Buck,” you sighed, your resolve was really failing you, you couldn’t lie to yourself by saying you didn’t want this, hell you had fantasized a moment like this for god knows how long, there’s only so much writers can offer you, but now that you were being given the opportunity to experience the real thing, were you really about to let this slip you by?
“this really isn’t a good idea Buck, it just doesn’t feel right,” you sighed body slouching.
He chuckled lowly, his body leaning in towards yours, breath fanning across your face, “it sounds like a great idea,” he murmured, “we’d both be getting something out of it, and that way, next time you write me giving our reader oral, you’ll know exactly what it feels like.”
You sucked in a breath at his words, your voice caught in your throat as he leaned even closer, his forehead pressing against yours, “come on doll, what do you say?” he questioned softly lips brushing against yours.
You nodded your head shakily, “okay,” you breathed.
Bucky surged forward his lips pressing against yours, your eyes slipping shut at the sensation of his lips gliding against your own. His flesh hand trailed its way up your body, around your neck where it tangled through your hair, his metal one finding its way onto your hip, squeezing.
Bucky nipped at your bottom lip, a breathy gasp falling from your lips. He seizes this opportunity to push his tongue in, he licks at you coaxing your tongue to dance with his. Your lungs burn from the intensity of the kiss, you pull away gasping for air, eyes dazed as you stare at Bucky his lips swollen and glistening in the dim light of your room.
Your hands reach out to touch him, fingers sliding up his torso, only to gravitate back down, his hands reach for yours stopping your movements before you can reach for the button of his jeans. He shakes his head a soft smile on his lips, “this isn’t about me sweetheart,” he murmurs leaning forward to nip at your lip, “this is about you,” he breaths.
The air around you is tense, your body thrumming with want. You don’t move though as Bucky’s eyes watch you, you wait with baited breath as Bucky’s hand untangles from your hair reaching down to get a grip on the hem of your shirt. He lifts up slowly, pulling the shirt off of you before tossing it off to the side. His eyes darken as he watches your ample breasts rise and fall. Your breath catches in your throat, you had never had a man look at you like this. The anticipation for what was to come next was building.
Unsuspecting, Bucky has you on your back in seconds, his frame hovering over yours, he leans down, his nose brushing against your chin, lips lowering till they’re meeting the skin of your neck. He kisses along the expanse of your neck drawing out breathy moans from your lips, a soft gasp follows when his teeth nip at your collarbone. You feel the coolness of his left hand trail up your stomach your body arching with it, it stops along the swell of your breast. His thumb reaches out sliding into the fabric of your bra, gliding over a now hardened nipple, the heat pools between your legs. A breathy moan falls from your lips at the sensation, Bucky chuckles lowly, warmth breath fanning across your dampened skin.
You whine as he pulls his hand from your breast, his hand trailing lower, you suck in a breath as his hand hovers over the top of your jeans, metal fingers popping open the button. His hand flattens against your body dipping into your jeans, fingers cupping you through your dampened underwear, a moan falls from your lips as he presses a single digit into your folds, wetting the fabric of your panties more.
“Mmm Buck,” you moan.
Bucky grins against your neck, his lips gliding up till they’re right by your ear, “I’m a giving person sweetheart,” he whispers, “i don’t just get right into the action, I like to play a little,” he husks, “i want to have you begging, I want to have you a moaning mess under me.” he breathes teeth nipping at your ear.
“Fuck,” you groan back arching off of the bed, Bucky presses his hand down harder against you stilling your hips. He pulls his face away from your neck his eyes holding yours, “keep your eyes on me.” He whispers, you swallow. You suck in a breath as his fingers push your panties to the side, his index finger finding it’s way into your dampened folds. The sensation alone has a breathy “Bucky” falling from your lips followed by a broken moan as his finger grazes your clit.
His fingers work over your clit your body writhing under his hand, broken desperate moans falling from your lips. A whine leaves your lips as Bucky tears his hand from your underwear, “Bucky please,” you moan.
He chuckles “patience sweetheart, let me make you feel good.” He whispers ducking down to press his lips to yours. Your lips chase his as they find their way back to your neck. He licks, sucks, and nips at your skin as he trails down your body. From your neck, down the valley of your breast till he’s reaching the top of your jeans. You watch him pull away from you leaning back on his feet as his hands reach down pulling on your jeans till your able to kick them off the rest of the way for him.
He’s slipping from the bed, his hands pulling on your thighs as he drags you down the edge of the bed. He sinks to his knee his head lowering, his warm breath fans across your mound, a shiver rolling through you. He doesn’t move, you begin to worry, maybe he had changed his mind, “Buck, we don’t have to- ” a loud moan breaks through your words, his mouth presses harshly against your cotton covered pussy, tongue pressing into you, the fabric rubbing against your aching clit.
“Jesus Buck,” you gasp body arching off of the bed.
He laughs lowly, tongue still running over your covered mound, he gazes up at you from between your legs, “ I told you sweetheart, patience.” You would definitely be adding this to your story you thought as another moan ripped through you Bucky’s head having moved from your aching core to nip at the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
Your hands reach down to tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your sensitive thighs. His thumb presses into you, rubbing against your aching clit, the fabric of your panties dragging deliciously against it. Your feet dig into his back, your body writhing on the bed. He glances up at you from where he’s perched between your legs, his eyes darkening, “ you think you could cum like this, you think you could cum for me.” He questions his breath ghosting over you.
A breathy “yes” falls from your lips, your body is buzzing with the need for release the teasing too much. Bucky continues to nip and suck at your sensitive skin, thumb working faster against your clit. “Fuck,” you gasp , “please Bucky,” you plead, “please,” you beg. Your desperate for him, for the need of release. His thumb pushes into you harder, working over you faster, his lips latching onto you skin sucking. A chant of his name falls from your lips as your orgasm takes you by surprise, your head pushing back into the sheets your back arching off the bed, your fingers tightening in his hair.
Bucky barley gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s moving, his hands gripping the middle of your panties, ripping them down the middle.
“Bucky did you just -”
Your words fall short as he’s pressing against you again, his face presses in close, his tongue peeking out to press against your folds. His tongue dips in dragging across your entrance till he’s flicking up against your clit, the tip of his tongue circling it. Your chest heaves as breathy moans fall from your lips, your thighs clenching around his head from the pleasure surging through you.  Bucky grips your thighs pushing them open, spreading you out for him, your back arches, breast pushing into the cooled air as his tongue flicks teasingly in and out of your soaked folds.
Your fingers grasp the sheets beneath you, twisting them in your hold. His mouth works over you, taking you higher, he’s alternating between your clit and your dripping entrance. His tongue will drag over your clit before it’s dipping down to bury into your entrance his tongue fucking into you till your screaming his name.
“Bucky fuck,” you moan, “please,” you whine.
He continues to work you over, moans of pleasure falling from his lips, the vibrations leaving you quaking in his hold. Your fingers find their way into his hair, your eyes glancing down at him the sight alone leaving you a breathless mess. He glances up his ocean grey eyes connecting with yours, you weren’t sure it was possible but they seemingly darkened more as he pushed you closer to release. His arms wrap around your spread thighs pulling you into him more, his lips work faster, tongue gliding quicker as he works you over. A loud moan falls from your lips as he quickens the pace, his name falling from your lips in a silent prayer as your grind  up against his mouth. A moan catches in your throat, his lips finding your clit as he sucks harshly, his tongue working over it with quick strokes. Your pussy clenches, body heaving as the intense pleasure washes over you. Bucky doesn’t stop as he works you through your orgasm his tongue continuously flicking over you, dipping into you to suck up your juices. Your vision goes white as you clench around him fingers pulling at his hair.
“Holy fuck,” you choke out thighs trembling as you wind down, Bucky chuckles as he moves up your body kissing up your sweat slicked skin. He looms over you eyes hooded with lust, a small smile on his glistening lips. Your hands come up wrapping themselves around the back of his neck pulling him down to you. Your lips press against his, a groan falling from your lips as you taste yourself on his sinful tongue. You lean up slightly your arms moving from Bucky’s neck to his shoulders as you move him around till he’s flat on his back on your bed. You straddle him, his hands finding a spot on your waist as he squeezes you,
“I thought this was about you doll,” he husks grinning up at you.
You roll your hips over his slightly, leaning your body over his, “it was, but I’d like to return the favor,” you whispered lips ghosting over his, your tongue peeking out to run over his plush lips. Sliding yourself down his firm body you stop once your seated on his thick thighs. Running your hands down his torso, your fingers work at popping the buttons of his jeans open, helping him shimmy them off, your tongue running over your lips as his cock springs free. You scoot down the bed settling yourself between his spread legs, leaning down as you run the tip of your tongue along the underside of his cock. A low grunt falls from his lips as you take the base of his cock into your hands, your tongue swirling around the tip. You continue to work your mouth over him indulging in the sinful noises that drip from his lips. “Fuck y/n,” he grunts, “fuck you gotta stop if you want me to finish this the right way.”
You grin up at him, you lips spit slicked, “fuck doll, come here.” He whispers gripping your arms as he hauls you up. He kisses your roughly, his tongue running over yours before he’s flipping the two of you, your back meeting the cool sheets.
Pushing your thighs apart he settles between them, gripping his cock in hand he runs it through your folds teasingly before he’s pressing in, a slow delicious burn that’s rolls a shiver through your spine. Bucky leans down his forehead pressing down onto yours, breathing each other in as he rolls his hips into you. His cock drags in and out of you, at a slow toe curling pace. Your body writhes against him, your heels digging into his ass to press him to you closer, you need to feel him, you want to feel him.
Bucky changes the angle; unwrapping your legs,  he hauls one over his shoulder the other gripped tightly in his hand as he spreads you out, the angle driving him impossibly deeper, a gasp catches on your throat, “fuck,” you moan, “fuck right there,” you gasp.
“Come on sweetheart, let me feel you, cum for me.” He grunts his thrust jarring you.
A few more hard thrusts and his thumb sweeping over your clit has you shouting out his name in a breathy moan. Your back arches, thighs trembling as the waves of pleasure wash over you. Bucky continues to push into you, dragging out your orgasm as his takes over, your name tumbling from his lips as he crashes into you.
Bucky slumps forward his face falling into your neck as he takes in a shuddering breath. “Fuck,” he grunts, “that’s going to be a hell of a fic,” he murmurs pressing his lips to your skin.
You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, right the fic, you think, that’s why this had happened, Bucky was helping you out, and help he did. Bucky rolls off to his side propping himself up on his elbow as he smiles down at you, your body lax against the sheets.
“When are you going to finish writing it?” He grins
“Not right now, m’ too tired, hopefully sometime in the morning” you murmured.
“So In these fics do like me and the reader cuddle?” He questions a teasing twinkle in his eye.
“I don’t know Barnes, it depends,” you reply, “are you a post sex cuddler?”
“for the right girl,” he grins opening his arms, “c’mere doll,” He murmurs wrapping you in his arms a sloppy wet kiss placed to your heated cheeks.
Your readers are in for a hell of a surprise,” he murmurs into your hair.
“That they are,” you whisper, “that they are.”
Part 2
Behind The Scenes Tag-list: @ladifreakingda @georgialeighc13 @racewife2004​ @multy-fandom-lover​ @otvlanga​ @sailorstupidsblog​
814 notes · View notes
2996-sana · 4 years
Text
Lucky - Jisoo
Tumblr media
request: Please can you write some fluff/angst where Jisoo finds out her girlfriend used to have a bp stan account and had Chaeyoung as her bias so Jisoo gets jealous/insecure and starts acting differently? Thank you!!!
i kinda went another way but it still has the same gist, really ! only that the reader didn’t have a stan account hehe 
p.s. i have received the requests for rosé and jennie but i will be doing a lisa request first since i haven’t put one out for her yet but i am still accepting requests atm
You would like to consider yourself lucky. You were currently in a very happy and healthy relationship with someone who you share an effortlessly rock-solid bond with. Someone who appreciated you for you and prioritized you over everything else. Your friends would always point out how smitten you both were but you never did pay it no mind – they could only wish to have a love as resilient and fun.
Oh yeah, and the person in question? Kim Jisoo. One of Korea’s most sought-after idols.
No big deal. Adding the fact that you were a fan before getting into a relationship with her, you would say lucky is an understatement.
If it wasn’t for your close friendship with Soojoo (who is one of Jisoo’s best friends in the industry) and your persistence to be introduced to the girls of Blackpink, you wouldn’t be where you are today. It took the right timing and the decision to come over at Soojoo’s apartment, only to find out she already had a certain guest over, for fate to lay a hand. Though your constant flirting also definitely helped create a permanent spot for you on Jisoo’s mind.
It wasn’t everyday someone had the guts to flirt with her and usually when someone did, she never had any trouble turning them down. She had bigger and better things to focus on: her career and her Blinks. She had no time for silly relationships at her young age, especially since they were at their peak, but there was something about you that kept her coming back.
That was over a year ago and the relationship that you both have built still leaves everybody in awe. You give majority of the credit to Jisoo who knew exactly how to handle you. She dealt with everything with a maturity you could only wish to have. Although you’d like to think it was already rubbing off on you. Something that your parents will forever be grateful to Jisoo for.
Your girlfriend carried with her a very laid back and goofy disposition. You’ve always admired how calm she was during times when you’d expect the exact opposite and loved her ability to bring comfort to those who weren’t, especially to her own members. Even her fans noticed how caring and protective she became when needed. You always chalked it up to her being the eldest in the group and feeling the need to be the one stable thread that kept everyone together. She was always the strong one when everything seemed to be falling apart.
But this also meant not a lot of people get to see Jisoo the way you do. Because with you, she allows herself to completely break down the walls she surrounds herself with when she’s at work. Gone is the Kim Jisoo of the biggest girl group in the world. All you were left with was Jisoo – your girlfriend.
The first time you saw Jisoo cry was a turning point in your relationship.
You and Jisoo were lounging on your couch on one of her few days off. Both of you were directing your attention to the documentary playing on the TV when you all of a sudden hear sniffles coming from your right. You immediately face the girl you have been seeing for a few months and see her fixing her gaze on her lap whilst she played with her fingers. Her eyes glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. She bit her lip tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from her mouth
“Jisoo?” you hesitated. At this point, your mind was going wild with the probable reasons why she was suddenly upset. Your brain cogs turning trying to remember if you did anything wrong or maybe she was going to break things off. Of course, she was too busy and didn’t have time for a relationship. Why did you even think this would work out?
“Y/N…” Jisoo’s eyes moved slower and always more down-cast, skimming the floor, rarely raising to eye level as more tears started to fall. It was in her voice too, quieter, with a meekness that wasn't usually part of her speech patter. This was very unlike the Jisoo you were used to. She was sad in a way you hadn't seen before. She brought her hand to intertwine yours together, taking a deep breathe to calm herself.
“Talk to me,” you whispered. “You never have to be afraid to open up to me.”
It was this that made Jisoo’s tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face. The muscles of her chin trembled like a small child and it took everything in you not to start crying too. It was not the time.
“I’m just tired,” she mumbled. “There’s been a lot of stress about the album process being delayed again and everyone is just so drained.” she leaned backwards, letting her head fall on the back of the couch and closing her eyes. “I’m so tired.” she emphasized, wiping her tears. You let her cry for a few more minutes waiting until she calms down as you put your arms around her shoulder.
“I will never understand firsthand what that feels like as an artist to go through that but I want you and the girls to know that so many people believe in you,” you consoled. “This is what you guys have been waiting for and you deserve it and more. The process was never gonna be easy but I know that you all love what you do and it will all be worth it because of that and your fans.”
She let out a shaky sigh before turning to face you. She studied your face silently for a second before giving you a small smile. “Thank you. I honestly went to see you tonight because I didn’t wanna be upset in front of the girls. Not right now when they’re all feeling really down too.”
She leaned forward to wrap her arms around you in a hug. “You’re my safe place.”
Before you, Jisoo didn’t think she could ever find a soul, aside from her members, that would ever understand the things that brought her pain.
To be the one Jisoo was able to turn to during her toughest moments was a badge of honor you would gladly wear everyday for the rest of your life.
Right now, you joined the Blackpink girls in their dorm chatting over some chicken and soju. You were all on your fourth bottle and you could sense how tipsy Rosé was becoming, but you knew Jennie and Lisa weren’t too far off either.
“I think its so funny how Y/N was annoying Soojoo to introduce her to us and now she’s practically married to Jisoo unnie,” Jennie giggled, raising the shot glass to her mouth.
Both Rosé and Lisa apparently thought this was the funniest thing ever because they laughed their little hearts silly.
“Oh my god!” Rosé squealed. “I was your bias remember?”
You hid your face on your hands as you shook your head, “Jesus, you’re super drunk.”
“Still doesn’t change the fact I was your bias!” Rosé laughed, putting her head on your shoulder.
“Yah, unnie, look!” Lisa slapped Jisoo’s shoulders, staring at her wildly. “Rosé is trying to steal your girl.” she pointed towards the both of you.
Jisoo only raised an eyebrow towards you before giving Lisa a smile but you knew Jisoo well enough now to differentiate a real smile from a fake one and that did not look genuine at all. Before you could scoot over to your girlfriend, Jennie decided to dig your hole a little deeper.
“I never knew that before Y/N. Why Rosie?” Jennie glared. “Why not me?”
“Yeah! Tell us!” Rosé exclaimed clapping her hands.
And that started a round of chants asking you to tell them the reason.
“Just tell them, babe.” you hear your girlfriend say. You look at her searching for signs not to but she only nodded in encouragement. You knew she was only doing so to appease her wasted members.
“I…I don’t know,” you stammered, looking at everyone. “She just caught my attention, I guess. That was way before I knew you guys though and what you were like. Everything is different now.”
“Well duh, you’re like in love with Jisoo unnie now,” Rosé drunkenly whispered.
You smiled at her words pulling Jisoo closer to you, “That I am.”
It was around 3AM when you and Jisoo arrived at your apartment after putting the drunk girls to bed. You and Jisoo decided to spend the night together since it had been weeks since you saw each other. You’ve noticed how quiet Jisoo had been after the whole Rosé being your bias thing and you couldn’t help but worry and wonder why. You’ve caught her in moments of reflection for the rest of the night before remembering where she was and trying to act normal.
You were in bed when you find her uncharacteristically quiet and staring up at the ceiling.
“I know you’re not okay,” you deadpanned, laying on your side to face her. “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s stupid,” she sighed as the words slowly made its way out of her mouth.
“You know I would never invalidate your feelings, right?” you questioned, reaching up to caress her cheek.
“Why me?” she said quietly. “I always asked myself that when we first started dating. Whenever Soojoo mentioned you, she would always talk about your obsession with Chaeyoung and we’d both laugh about it. When I first met you and you started showing interest, I thought you were only using me to get closer to Chaeyoung.” she laughed but you could sense no humor behind it.
You wanted to interject and tell her how wrong she was but you sensed she had more to say.
“So, I put you in arm’s length because of that. I didn’t think you had the best intentions towards me. It was okay at first until I really started to get attached to you too and I thought ‘great, I like someone who is probably into Chaeyoung’. Chaeyoung was your type and I couldn’t be more different from her. I was so confused and didn’t know what your deal was. I started to get really scared when I realized you had to meet the girls.” she recounted. “I was scared that you’d start to like her for real and that she was what you were after all along. I felt lost and confused, but at the same time happy and certain that I really wanted things with you to work out.”
She turned to face you for the first time since she started talking, “I was wrong. You had the most genuine intentions towards me and you proved that time and time again. I guess that tonight, that irrational fear just crawled back to me like a shadow of what I used to feel and that freaked me out.”
After that, you slipped off the blankets and got on top of her, grabbing her face and bringing it closer to yours. “You are the best thing to ever happen to me, Kim Jisoo. I fucking mean that, you know that, right? The moment we met, we clicked, you know that. You were all I could think about the moment I step foot out of Soojoo’s apartment. The only reason Rosie was my bias was because I didn’t know any better. I literally knew jack shit about you guys but the more I got to know you, the more I knew I wanted to be with you. It was never about Blackpink, it was about me getting to know another human being that I adored and respected.”
You were looking down at her probably looking at her like the sun came out of her ass but Jisoo wasn’t complaining. “You curse a lot, you know?” she giggled.
You rolled your eyes, “I come up with that great speech and you choose to talk about a couple curses.”
She leaned up and pressed your lips together.
“You’ve never failed to make me feel that, Y/N. Thank you for putting up with me when I get bouts of insecurity and doubt.” she smiled. “You know I’ll do the same for you too.”
“Yeah, you’re gonna be doing that a lot more for me because you guys are only going up from here,” you pouted. “I’ll have more people to compete with especially with your new drama coming. Your male lead better watch out, whoever he is.” you scoffed.
“There’s no competition in the first place,” she flicked your forehead. “And if there was, it would be a no brainer to know who would win.”
You smirked from above her, “Sure win?”
She crinkled her nose at how corny you were but gave you the biggest smile nonetheless, “You know it, babe.”
197 notes · View notes