#he knows how to do chemistry so well he’s one step away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bunny584 · 2 months

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OBSESSED: ITADORI

A/N: Quarterback Itadori with #20 on his jersey realizes he has a little (big) problem with a certain cheerleader turned Chem tutor (who also happens to be just a little bit older 🤭). Anon this one is for you! I hope you enjoy 💋

S/N: I’ve never giggled so much writing a piece. This one was so funny to me.

C/W: Aged up characters (19+), college AU, Mature, 18+

“ITADORI!”

Oh for fucks sake.

Yuji can’t drag away from the pyramid of cheerleaders right of center field.

“Coach?”

“IF YOU WANT TO WEAR A SKIRT AND BACKFLIP FOR THE BOYS THEN JUST SAY THAT?!”

His teammates erupt in a chorus of laughter. Coach Yaga is an ass.

Fact.

But he is also living, breathing, comedic relief.

“I would coach, but they aren’t my type!”

Yuji yells back, eyes still lasered to your back. He knows it’ll sear Yaga’s skin right off the bone.

Whatever.

What’s a few more seconds, right?

You are just so…hot.

In a mind-bending kinda way. An optical illusion. Or desert mirage.

A fresh water oasis in a destitute wasteland. Always just a few more steps away. No matter how long he’s been crawling on his knees.

His knees.

He’d kill to be on his knees for you. Diving head first into—

“SHUT THE HELL UP AND GET BACK ON THE FIELD. PINK TOP IDIOT!!”

“Yes sir!” Times up.

“Dude, she’s a smoke show.”

The team’s starting running back (#14) rests his arm on Yuji’s shoulder. Just as four bodies fling you so far against gravity it is questionable whether you’ll come down.

“She’s perfect.”

“And a junior.” #14 reminds him, tugging his helmet back over his head.

“So?”

“Okay, freshmeat. Someone’s got mommy issues.”

Yuji bursts into full belly laughter. Stealing one last glance at you before pulling his helmet on.

His teammates never fail to remind him that he’s the only freshman in Tokyo University history to make starting lineup.

Not to mention quarterback.

“#14, #20 IF YOU DONT STOP RUBBING DICKS ILL WEAR BOTH OF YOUR ASSES TO THE BONE THIS AFTERNOON.”

Yuji promptly takes position at center field. He knows better than to push his luck. Two-a-days are already brutal enough, he has no intention of making his life harder than it is.

But you do.

You are setting flames to the hoops Yuji has to jump through to get through study hall and afternoon practice.

Why else would you wear those yoga pants?

They’re a second skin, for Christ’s sake.

Might as well be body paint. Outlining every tantalizing, serpentine curve. Pretty, full hips. Plump, tight ass. The mouthwatering, puffy rose between your legs just begging to be watered. By his tongue.

Yuji’s palm digs into his crotch. Trying to force his pulsating length from tenting up into the table. Cursing himself for changing out of his compression shorts.

“Hello? Yuji?”

Your dulcet voice echoes between his ears and curls around his dick. Jerking him back down to earth.

“Y-yeah? Hi.”

Yuji forces an acknowledgement through the sharp edges of his voice box. Sitting fully erect in his seat. Scrambling to find the pencil that was supposed to be mirroring your work on the whiteboard.

Because not only are you a perfect 10 on and off the field; you are a prodigy when it comes to chemistry.

And currently in the middle of trying to diffuse some of your excess knowledge into his very deficient head.

You toss your head back. Your laughter is definitely why tales of fishermen being lost at sea exists.

Light.

Breathy.

Soprano crescendo that’s rutting against the few folds in his brain.

“Why are you so distracted today, Yu?”

“Distracted?” His voice cracks.

“Ha—no, I’m not distracted. Sorry, walk me through it again.”

But before Yuji can retreat back into his daydream, you catch him in the Venus fly trap of your gaze. Tilting your head slightly.

Yuji swallows thickly. Frozen in place. Hand pushing down on his cock with all his might. As if you could see through the table.

Did you know he was staring at your ass? Can you tell how hard he is? Is there drool on his face? Shit, there must—

“Woah, the way the sun is catching your eyes right now, Yu.”

You take a half step to the side, allowing the full beam of light to caress Yuji’s already hot face.

A shaky hand swipes along the back of his neck.

“H-huh?”

“Your eyes are so pretty. Warm. Like hot chocolate with cinnamon.”

Your full lips curl into a soft smile. And Yuji bites down a pitiful whine.

“I—thanks.” You don’t hear him. Because he whispers through a wired shut jaw.

Yuji lets his erection tent up, grazing the table. He fists his base through his athletic pants. Ears fiery hot with embarrassment. His hand glides up and down his clothed cock without his permission.

Did you know?

That you snapped his self-control in half?

And shoved him into the darkest recesses of his mind?

Where his most depraved thoughts (and the King of Curses) lives?

Because all Yuji can see is the way your ass ripples and bounces while you scribble hieroglyphics on the whiteboard.

His mind’s eye is currently picturing him fucking you dumber than he is.

Fist full of hair in one hand. Both of your wrists behind your back in another. Mesmerized by the way your plump, fleshy mounds slam against his hips.

Maybe he’ll fuck you in front of a mirror?

So he can make you repeat how pretty you think his eyes are while he brands the shape of his cock into you.

Then he’ll tell you how pretty you are. Creaming all around his length. Drool raining down from your lips in sync with his thrusts.

Maybe he’ll stick a dildo on the mirror so he can watch your mouth get stuffed while he violates your insides?

You’ll look so pretty. When he fills you up with something warm. A little thicker than ‘hot chocolate with cinnamon.’

“Yu? Are you okay?” Genuine concern knocks his lust-drunk thoughts loose.

Yuji blinks himself back to this dimension. Chest heaving. Cramps blooming from his fingertips to his biceps from grasping his sex so hard. He doesn’t need a mirror to know he’s stained blood red. From chin to hairline.

“I-uh. Sick. I’m—I feel sick. Be right back.” He takes off to the male locker room at inhuman speed.

Yuji nearly doubles over the porcelain sink, glaring at his blown out pupils. Olive skin flushed like he just finished a marathon.

He can’t believe he was just groping himself like that in public. In plain sight.

All because you complimented his eyes?!

Who the hell is he?

“Sukuna, give it a rest.”

Yuji hisses poison at his curse. Because he surely wasnt responsible for those lewd actions.

“Oh, I’ll rest you PERMANENTLY you asinine little b—“

“I’m serious. Quit it.”

Yuji darts around the empty locker room. Accidentally raising his voice.

“Quit what, brat?”

“Quit…making me think..things like that.”

Sukuna’s bellowing laughter sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Deafening between Yuji’s ears.

“That’s all you kid. I’m only 10 fingers in. Don’t have that power…yet.”

Sukuna retreats to Yuji’s subconscious. Leaving him stunned. Disbelief crashing into him like tornado winds.

Yuji has never been a pervert.

Sure, he’s had crushes. But he knows how to control his impulses.

He might be dumb like one, but he’s not an actual dog…right?

Wrong.

Yuji dives into an empty stall while his teammates file in. Study hall is complete and afternoon warm-ups are starting soon.

And his neglected, weeping sex is clamoring for attention.

Missing it’s muse — your soft, curvy frame and the ways he wants to fill you.

One hand clamps over his mouth. While the other one tugs his pants down. Thick, heavy length springing free. Sticky and slick with his precum.

His head meets the cool wall. Hips thrusting against his fist. Broken whimpers pushing through the web spaces of his fingers that are digging into his cheek. Choking himself quiet so no one hears his pathetic hormone driven state.

“Mnnhgh f—fuck.” Muffled curses slip past his hand.

His cock is red and engorged. Angry from his abuse. But his hips can’t stop rutting into his hand. Picturing abusing your pretty, swollen cunt.

A hot tear rolls along his cheek, between his fingers. Salty on his tongue.

Curtains start to shade his vision and Yuji’s hands move to cup his bulbous tip. His muscular core tenses and strings of warm, thick seed fills his hands.

The world slowly starts to piece together. His heart rattling in its cage comes to a normal pace. Choppy, incomplete breaths gradually replaced with deep, relaxed ones.

Shit.

He’s in trouble.

Because he needs to pass chemistry to play football. And he needs you to pass.

But he can’t ever look you in the eye again after this display.

After one measly compliment.

How will he act if you bend over in front of him?

Or lean over a little too far?

God forbid you touch his arms or brush against him.?

Then a lightbulb goes off.

Yuji has the perfect solution.

He scrambles to clean up. Putting on his street clothes. Ignoring the quizzical looks from his teammates. He’s going to fix his little problem.

“Coach Yaga?” Yuji is met with an open office door and his coach’s nostrils flaring. Vein along his temple pulsing.

He draws in a steadying breath.

“I can’t play football anymore coach. I quit.”

“….YOU WHAT?!?!”

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 4 months

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Like no one is watching

summary: a little stream rekindles feelings that had been lurking somewhere in between the lines. Or have they?

a/n *hits chest* guilty, guilty, guilty... yet I had to write this because I was about to go insane. Don't come for my head. Had never written for this man before. Enjoy. 🤍🫧

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It was supposed to be a chill night. Nothing big. Nothing special. All Vince wanted was to hang out with a couple of his old friends and mess around for a bit on stream. He needed to get his mind off the last couple of games that weren't his best. And it was just that—a good evening filled with goofy jokes—until Brian went quiet for a minute before saying, "Uuu, Y/N is coming over," and Vince's body nearly had an out-of-body experience. One that makes you fella as if, suddenly, you are standing a foot away from your body, and it almost feels like tunnel vision, but then it all snaps back into place. Yet Vince pulled the most neutral facial expression he could master before saying, "The one from the game?" making Brian simply hum in confirmation as he typed out a message to you.

The thing was, that it was stupid to even pretend that Vince didn't know you. Or that he only had seen you in one of his games as Brian's plus one. Well, besides being one of the NHL investor's daughter—a tag you shook off with a frown every time. You had made quite a name for yourself on your own. You had graduated from medical school with honors. And had opened a boutique in downtown Chicago... Not that Vince was keeping tabs or anything.

The truth was that he had never paid much attention to you at sports events or gatherings. Not that you were there often. But something about you standing there in the stands during his last game had messed with Vince's brain chemistry, and Vince just hadn't been the same ever since. He had, of course, asked Brian about your friendship and felt even more whiplashed when his friend casually shrugged while saying that you two had known each other for years. A friend of a friend. And since the energy was comparable, you had stayed in touch.

"Vince, keep the chat entertained while I let her in," Brian got up quickly, but not before stopping to address chat too, "Guys, your favorite person is here." Vince was once again left wondering how many times you two streamed together. And kicking himself for never really finding the time to watch his friends' lives. Laughter echoed from the hallway, and Vince had to mentally tell himself not to look back so he wouldn't come off too desperate. Paying extra attention to the sea of messages about how everyone was so excited to see you.

"Make some noise, make some noise," Brian shouted as he sprinted back, clapping his hands. He pulled the mic to his lips, "The one and only, Y/n Y/L/N." Your laughter filled the room, quickly followed by the clicking of your heels. "You are insane," you muttered, stepping through the door. A slight surprise washed over your face when your eyes fell on Vince, sitting in one of the chairs, but it was quickly masked by a warm smile. "Oh, hey, Vince," you muttered before leaning forward slightly to wave at the camera.

"Hey guys, long time no see. Please tell me that you've been making fun of Brian for me", you smirked, sticking your tongue out at him. "Changed my mind; I don't want you here," he huffed, playfully pulling at your hand. Vince blinked a couple of times. Finally realized that he had been staring at you the whole time, but then who could blame him? You had caught his eye back then with a messy bun, baggy jeans, and his team's jersey on. Now, with a black dress, heels, and full of glam. Lord was on his side, and he was sure glad that he had been sitting.

"Do I know Vince?" you read, your eyes darting to the awfully quiet hockey player to your right. "Yeah, we met. Was at his game, actually", you nodded slowly. "I should know all the rules by now, but..." Pulling a face, you shook your head. You avoided the games like a plague. Daddy's girl in the stadium. Those words alone made you want to run. You would rather fall face-first into dog shit. "We'll get you to more games, and you'll get it in no time," Vince's voice made your head snap back to him. The fucker dared to smirk too. Oh, but you knew his type. Heard all about it, and two could play this game. "Is that an offer?", you asked innocently. Vince only shrugged as he leaned back in his chair, "A fact." Your eyes stayed glued to each other. You hated how you could never get a read on him. How could a guy look both like the biggest mistake and like a gift from the Lord himself?

"They want to see your fit, Y/n," Brian's voice made you blink. Turning your attention back to the camera, you muttered, "Oh, wait," you backed up slightly. Trying to fit at least most of your body in a frame. "Do a twirl," Brian clapped his hands like a kid, making you shake your head. "Of fuck you, that's stupid," you muttered. "No cap, do a twirl," he motioned with his finger for you to do as he said. You rolled your eyes, but then you did feel cute today, so a little hype has never hurt anybody. "It's nothing," you said as you twirled a couple of times, "a black dress and these awful heels." You lifted one of your feet slightly, showing the sparkly, black heel.

"My turn!" Brian shouted, stepping up front as he went on a rant about what he was wearing. You stepped aside with a giggle. He was way too excited to do this, so alcohol had to be involved in this steam in some way. "Sponsorship event?", Vince said under his breath, clearly only trying to catch your attention. "You know it...", breathing out, you let out a sigh. People might call you ungrateful for this, but you hated attending anything that involved your father and his money. You were like a shiny toy for him. "Do you hate them?", he asked, catching a slight frown on your face. "Tell me about it," you said, laughing under your breath. "I ain't a fan as well," he added with a nod. "Oh, I know", you muttered, stepping aside from his chair.

"I will go for now; I need to get out of these before I start bleeding all over the floor," you chuckled, pointing to your feet once you found a minute of silence. You didn't want to just get up and walk out, so one way or another, you would have to find a little excuse to slip away. "Just get them off here," Brian muttered, not seeming to care as he scrolled through his playlist, looking for a new song to sing along to. "And flash the chat while doing so?", you rolled your eyes, "You wish for free content like that." You were about to wave your last goodbye when Vince cut in, "I'll get them." For a split second, you had hoped that you had misunderstood his intentions. So you just shook your head with a polite, "It's okay," but Vince scooted his chair closer. "No, no, I got it," he muttered, bending over.

A breath hitched in your throat as you felt his hands on your skin. "No, Vince," you muttered. But he just continued pulling at the strap; his warm fingers touching your cold ankle, sending shivers down your whole body. He fidgeted with it for a moment, but with an awkward angle, it sure wasn't an easy task. You were hoping that he was just going to give up, but his palm grasped your leg just slightly above your knee as he nudged it to a more comfortable angle for him. You nearly let out a shriek, but it turned into you biting your lip. Your hands pressed against his shoulder as you steadied yourself.

But God the feeling of relief once he finally pulled the scrappy shoes off. Near heavenly. Making your head fall back as you hummed in delight, "Remind me to boycott high heels from today," you muttered. Not to mention that you didn't miss the way Vince's hands lingered on your skin before he pulled back away from you. His gaze moves upwards to catch your eyes. And the urge to just take his face between your fingers and... Pull yourself together, Yn. You turned away quickly. Hoping to hide the slight blush on your cheeks. "It was nice seeing you guys", you waved your hand to the camera before quickly picking up your heels and padding out of the room.

Vince's heart was beating so hard against his chest. He was toying with a dangerous line. Girls like you were off-limits for a reason. The rules were pretty clear, too. It was bad enough that this was on the internet. One stupid move and his head would be drilled raw with people screaming at him. Nor did it help that your daddy dearest had spent some pretty coin on his team this year. Yet Vince was itching to get up and follow you. Little could be done with the cameras on, but outside this room, where no one could see you...

"Do you want another drink?" Vince said, causing Brian to shake his can, which, to Vince's luck, was indeed empty. "I'll get..." Brian had started, but Vince was already up and out of his chair. "I've got you, man," he said, tapping his friend's shoulder. He only had one shot at this. You can only get lucky so many times. But he didn't even need to go looking for you because the moment Vince rounded the corner to the kitchen, you were there. Leaning against the counter with your hands crossed over your chest.

"You're following me or something?", you muttered, tilting your head to the side. Vince tossed the empty cans out. "Or something," he muttered back. "Now you think you're funny?", you raised an eyebrow at him, pushing back from the corner to step closer to him. "What do you want, Dunn?", you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. A smirk tugged on his lips. That devilish one. One that turned him from an angel to a man of sins in seconds. "Back to the last name once again; you know I like it." His words were breathy and low as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing you to pull back.

"You look really good," Vince muttered, letting his eye fall down your body. Following your curves before your laughter filled the empty place. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, frowning slightly. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head, "You came here to tell me that I looked good?". This guy was something different. Yet your fingers reached up to his jaw, brushing over his jawbone. "You're adorable," you muttered. This time it was Vince who was pulling away, "I'm not adorable."

You bit your lip, trying to keep a serious face. Of course, he would get offended by a comment like that. "Yeah, I forgot that you're an angry puppy, my bad," you said with a firm nod of your head. Vince let out a huff, licking his lips as he stepped forward once more, towering over you. "Careful," he breathed out, leaning closer to your face. "Or what?", you urged him, not willing to back down. Your own hands moved to rest against his chest as you stepped on your toes. His warmth seeped into your palms. Vince's arms were pressed on either side of you. Caging you within his arms, "Or you might see a very different side of me." Your smirk matched his now as you bit your lip, tilting your head to the side. "Like..." you pushed on, wanting to see just how far he would let himself go.

"Not afraid that daddy will get mad?" The warm feeling in your stomach turned to ice. The smile faded from your lips as you reared back. "Oh, fuck you," you hissed, pulling at his arm to get away from him. You should have known better. "Y/n," Vince tried to grasp your arm, but you yanked it away quickly, "Forget it, Dunn." With a quick look around the kitchen, you grabbed your stuff and headed straight to the door, cursing yourself for willingly choosing to come here in the first place.

#I found myself on the dark side eh...#vince dunn imagine #vince dunn x reader #vince dunn #vince dunn x you #nhl x reader #ngl imagine #ngl x you #hockey imagine

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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months

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Strictly Come Dancing

Leah Williamson x Reader

Summary: The final of Strictly Come Dancing

"Dancing the Argentine Tango, Leah Williamson and her partner y/n l/n!"

There had always been something about the tango that drew you in. Maybe it was the way the dancers moved. Maybe it was the outfits or the sensuality or something of the like.

Either way, it had always been your favourite dance.

It had always been special.

But now, it was even more special.

It was the dance you and Leah were performing for your last dance on Strictly and you were determined to give it your all.

The music began. The lights rose.

You'd practised this until even your feet hurt, a rare feat for a professional dancer. You'd practised this until even Leah with her infinite stamina had to call it quits.

She looked good enough to eat in the suit she was wearing. One hand clamped around your own and the other curled around to lay on your shoulder blade.

You nudged her arm up a tad higher before you truly began.

You were chest to chest for most of the dance and you refused to let her look away from you even as you knew she could hear the crowd cheering when she pulled off an impressive dip that had you almost kissing.

You used all of the dancefloor as you kept your eyes on her.

You studied her face. The shape of her eyes. The arch of her brows. The slope of her nose. Her perfect, perfect lips.

She didn't look like she was struggling and you were glad for that.

You saw her draw in a big lungful of breath before she lifted you, spinning you around right as you passed the judges.

You smirked at her as she steadied you both, drawing your face closer to hers with a hand on her cheek as she leant over you.

The crowd erupted into cheers as the music stopped and regular lights returned.

You grinned as Leah righted you, hands on your waist as you greeted Tess.

"I mean," Tess said," It is the final and, wow, that was certainly a final level performance. Craig, what did you think?"

"Well," Craig said," Leah, I have to say, I...Loved it! When you think of a tango, you think intimacy, sensuality and I must say, you have done that tonight. My only critique? There should have been more! I wanted to watch you two forever!"

"Motsi?"

Motsi fanned herself. "You two..." She said, shaking her head," You two...I don't think I have ever seen such a consistent duo. Week in, week out, you put out some of the best dancing I've ever seen! This is how you win a final! Footwork! Eye contact! I felt like I was intruding on a personal moment and that's exactly how a tango should feel! I agree with Craig!" She slammed her hand onto the desk. "I wanted more!"

"Shirley?"

"I mean, there's not much new to say. You hit your footwork. You hit your lifts. You were so close you were practically kissing. The Argentine Tango is about chemistry and partnership, something you have shown you two have in droves. There's nothing to say but I hope you consider a dance career when you're finished with football, Leah!"

Leah laughed next to you.

"Anton?"

"Everyone keeps taking what I want to say!" He complained," There's nothing I can say that hasn't already been said. It was the epitome of a tango. Everything was right. The costumes. The music. The partnership! There is nothing I can add that will change anyone's mind. That is the best tango we've seen on this show in years!"

At his declaration, the crowd cheered and you leaned into Leah's side.

"I mean," Tess said, noisily blowing out air," The judges are nothing but complimentary. This is a final. Leah, I have to know, how have you found your Strictly experience?"

"I mean," Leah said," Nothing short of amazing. And I've done some pretty amazing things in my career. But this is certainly one of the hardest. Obviously, I stepped out of my comfort zone agreeing to do this but I'm glad I did." She nudged you. "Plus this one would never let it go if I didn't."

Tess laughed. "We've had previous partners tell us she's a bit of a slave driver."

"She's certainly intense," Leah agreed, winking when you slapped her on the chest," Nah, but it's good. I wouldn't be nearly as comfortable as I am without her. She really pushes me to be my best every day so, yeah, I'm glad I've got her."

It felt all too soon that you were standing back on the dancefloor with the other couple that made it to the final two and Tess was reading out the results.

You stayed pressed into Leah's side, one hand resting on the one she had clamped around your hip. It was a familiar pressure and you leaned into her.

You don't know why you felt so worried. You had won this trophy four time all ready, all in a row.

"The votes have been counted and independently verified," Tess said solemnly," And the winner of this year's Strictly Come Dancing is..."

Leah squeezed you tight.

"Leah and y/n!"

You leapt into Leah's arms and she held you securely at the waist, spinning you around. You'd been trying to keep the PDA to a minimum but you'd just won and you decided that all kind of decorum was out of the window.

You crashed your lips against Leah's and she reciprocated immediately.

"Leah and y/n, you are our winners," Tess said," How does it feel?"

"Er..." Leah looked to still be in shock. "Yeah, I mean..." Her face split into a massive grin. "There's no better feeling really."

"Better than the Euro's final?"

Leah pretended to think. "Well, I got to do this one with my wife, so, yeah, maybe. I mean, I feel great! It's this one's fifth trophy in a row so I'm just glad I didn't mess up her streak."

"You wouldn't have, baby," You said, pressing a firm kiss to her cheek," I had faith in you."

Tess laughed. "Of course, winning the glitterball trophy isn't an unusual feat for you, y/n. Does it ever get old?"

"No," You said," It's made even sweeter that I've got my last glitterball trophy in a while with my wife."

Leah grinned wolfishly at you.

This announcement was a long time coming.

"Oh?" Tess asked," You don't think you'll win next year?"

"I think I'll be too busy taking care of the baby to compete."

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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itsbeeble · 6 months

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Enchanted

Summary: You lost each other once, holding out in hopes of crossing paths again. It's almost fate that you do, and Wonwoo doesn't want to let you leave him again

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, exes to lovers

Pairing: Idol!jeon Wonwoo x afab!reader

WC: 4.5k (i got REALLY carried away yall im so sorry)

Series Masterlist

18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

WARNINGS UNDER CUT

Warnings: hurt comfort, ex high school sweethearts to lovers, mentions of someone trying to get a little too touchy feely with reader so if you aren't comfortable, don't read it (nothing bad happens AT ALL, the guy is just a dumbass, but i figured i would put a warning for all of you), unprotected sex, making out, fingering, choking, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, begging, kinda dom/sub themes again, mentions of drinking, swearing, marking, spanking, Wonwoo likes boobs, sexual tension, mentions of chemistry, idk there's a lot so let me know if i missed something important

Listen to Enchanted by Taylor Swift <3

A/N: Guys i wrote this all today/last night and i'm really proud of it. It's also the first smut fic that's like...i wouldn't call it intense but it's more than what I'm used to ig. I hope yall like it though <3. Also thank you to Fawn for beta reading again. teehee

You had always hated gatherings: holidays, work events, family reunions, weddings, you name it. You always hated being the only person there without a partner. Not that you felt the need to have one, but it got annoying when you got the same questions over and over and over again.

When are you going to settle down and marry a nice boy?

Your parents aren’t getting any younger, don’t you want them to have some grandkids?

What are you waiting for?

The truth is, you had the answer to only one of those questions. What were you waiting for?

It has to be some stroke of luck when the answer walks right through the door to your high school reunion decked in an all-black suit and the same nerdy glasses he’d had his whole life.

Jeon Wonwoo. Your high school sweetheart turned drunk sob story to your best friends after a few too many cocktails.

It’s ironic how the root of all of your relationship problems just so happens to hate your guts. Not that you blamed him for it. Everything that happened between the two of you, everything that went wrong in your relationship was because of you and your insecurities. Because you didn’t trust that the idol life wouldn’t ruin the two of you. If you were him, you’d cut contact and disappear as well.

Eunchae, your best friend from high school, nudges your arm, her eyes flicking between you and the man who hasn’t spotted your wide-eyed stare.

“Did you know he was coming today?” She whispers harshly, jerking you out of your dumbstruck trance. Your mouth opens and closes repeatedly, awfully reminiscent of a goldfish.

“I— no, no I didn’t.” You feel out of breath, your heart beginning to pound against your ribs so hard that you fear the bones might snap. “Hana said that— that he didn’t RSVP.”

You look up again, and your heart stutters in your chest.

He’s looking at you, through the crowd of people around him. Wonwoo had his eyes locked on you, his gaze unreadable from where you stood. It feels like he’s cast an enchantment on you, freezing you under the weight of his gaze.

Your hands are shaking, and the drink in your hand almost spills before Eunchae grabs you. Someone steps in front of Wonwoo— a man, from here you can’t tell who— and your view of him is cut off.

You don’t see him try to gently nudge the man to the side while talking to him, trying to get a better look at you. You don’t see the disappointment when he finally gets him to move and you’re gone, out of his view.

“Wonwoo,” one of his old friends, whose name has slipped his mind (Seonkyung maybe?), claps him on the shoulder. “You really have grown up, huh?” Wonwoo smiles politely, adjusting the expensive watch on his wrist.

“I mean seriously,” another man comes forward, someone Wonwoo knows very well and for all the wrong reasons. Lee Jongdae, the man who planted seeds of doubt in your ear. The man who ruined something good, something that would have lasted. “You used to be like,” Jongdae raises his hand, waving it flat in the air next to his shoulder, “this tall? And now you’re a giant!”

“You must be getting all the girls, eh?” Seonkyung teases. Wonwoo wants to scream, wants to get out of this situation as fast as possible. “The idol life must make things easy, right?”

“I don’t really go out much,” he shrugs, still holding that polite smile on his face. “The idol life is busier than you think.” Seonkyung scoffs at this. Jongdae narrows his eyes, but the near-mocking smile returns to his face.

“Come on~” Jongdae presses, “there’s gotta be some idol woman that you’ve snatched up. Someone has to have grabbed the attention of the great Jeon Wonwoo.”

He hesitates. Yes, someone has grabbed his attention but it isn’t another idol in the industry.

“Or, wait,” Jongdae’s hand collides with Wonwoo’s chest, something similar to malice appearing in his eyes. “Are you still hung up on that Y/N girl?”

Wonwoo goes rigid, and beside him Seonkyung gets quiet. Jongdae bursts into laughter, the sound ringing around the room and gathering the attention of a lot of people. Wonwoo feels his jaw tick in annoyance, fighting the urge to roll his eyes or knock the man to the ground.

“No way are you still hung up on her!” Jongdae huffs out between laughs, seemingly uncaring that he’s the only one laughing. “Ten years, and you’re still going after someone who couldn’t care less about you anymore?”

Someone inside of Wonwoo breaks a little bit. Something inside him cracks, and his resolve crumbles slightly. He hadn’t expected the jab to hurt as much as it did, but god did it sting.

“I never said I was hung up on her.” Wonwoo folds his arms over his chest. “Like you said, it’s been ten years. If she’s moved on then that’s her business.”

“So it wouldn’t bother you if I got with her?” Jongdae takes a step forward, an eyebrow arching in challenge. “Because I won’t lie to you, she’s looking good.”

Wonwoo’s jaw ticks again, but he keeps a pleasant smile on his lips. Don’t say yes, don’t say yes. “Like I said, not my business.”

That clearly isn’t the answer Jongdae is looking for, and a puff of pride fills Wonwoo.

And then dread. He just gave the one man he would hate to see you with permission to do whatever he wanted. “Permission”, as if he has any control or say in the things, or people, that you do.

When Jongdae approaches you, there’s an immediate pit of despair in your stomach, like some princess waiting to be saved from the tower she’d been locked in. There’s a menacing look in his eyes, and he walks with a swagger telling you that he’s used to getting what he wants out of a situation.

“Hi, gorgeous.” You almost cringe at the first words out of his mouth, your lips twisting into an awkward, tense smile.

“Hi…?”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Jongdae continues, not waiting for you to say or do anything. He’s only focused on getting what he wants, that much is obvious from the way he smirks and glances around to find…someone. Who, you aren’t sure. “You sure have…grown up a bit, haven’t you?”

“I mean…yeah I’m 27. I would hope I’ve grown up a bit.” He laughs a bit too hard for something you hadn’t intended to be funny.

“Say,” he leans closer to you, and you press yourself back against the wall. His hand comes to rest on the side of your thigh, right near the slit in your dress. “Why don’t we get out of here? You know, go somewhere a little bit more…quiet? Maybe Mrs. Ji’s old chemistry lab?”

Your body is tense, and you try to pull away from him.

“No, thank you.” Your hand tightens around the small plastic cup of cheap wine in your hand. “I think I’m fine where I am.”

“C’mon, don’t you wanna loosen up a bit?” He coos, and his grip tightens on part of your dress. Your body tenses.

Then his grip was gone, and his body is hitting the floor, and people were beginning to surround you and Jongdae and…Wonwoo?

Wonwoo is standing next to you, his black jacket seemingly gone, and the sleeves of his black button-up are rolled up to his elbows. His eyes are narrowed, his lips pulled into a thin line.

“What the hell was that for, Jeon?” Jongdae pulls himself to his feet, trying to approach him, but another man steps forward. “Thought you said it wasn’t your business?”

“It wasn’t,” Wonwoo agrees, “but that was only until you tried to do that.”

Something about Wonwoo being this protective over you, even after what you did, makes your stomach twist into knots. You have to remind yourself that he’s just doing this because he had to. Because this is what anyone would do, and your heart sinks into your stomach.

“We were just trying to have some fun,” Jongdae snaps, “right Y/N?”

Wonwoo looks at you, and when you return his gaze it’s like you’re back in high school again.

Do you want to leave? His head tilts ever so slightly toward the door.

Get me out of here. You hope your eyes are portraying that thought perfectly, but the tight smile on your ex’s lips tells you all you need to know.

“She’s not going anywhere with you, Lee Jongdae.” Wonwoo’s hand finds its way to the small of your back, and you find yourself tucking your body into his side just like you used to.

Only this time, it’s like you fit perfectly under his arm. His very…very…very muscular arm and slim waist and when your arm wraps into the back of his shirt, you can just barely feel the tight muscles and—

Oh god, you’re gonna do something you shouldn’t if the two of you don’t leave right now.

You’re lucky that Wonwoo is able to guide you away, and that Jongdae doesn’t try to come after the two of you. You figured that, while the man was stupid, he wasn’t going to try and harm someone making more than triple his annual income and with enough power to ruin his life with just one click of a button. Probably literally.

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo has his hands wrapped around the headrest of the driver’s seat in his car, watching you as you pick at the skin around your manicured nails. You turn your head to look at him, pursing your lips.

“I mean…I guess? He didn’t really do anything, thank god.” You let your hands drop to your lap and a heavy sigh escapes you when you let your head fall against your headrest.

“I’m sorry that he did that.” Wonwoo’s voice is gravelly, and you have to take a moment to calm yourself before speaking.

“It isn’t like it’s your fault. You do know that, right?” Wonwoo shrugs.

“It kind of is, though. The only reason he went up to you is because of me. Because he wanted to get under my skin.” Oh? You arch an eyebrow, turning your body to face him. The slit in your dress shifts ever so slightly, exposing your bare thigh. Wonwoo turns his head away from you, his cheeks heating.

“Why would he want to do that?” In your heart, you already know. The way the two of you easily slipped back into your old habits, the way he didn’t even hesitate to help you despite protesting that anyone would have done it. You knew, now, that he didn’t hate you. You just wanted him to admit it.

Wonwoo lets out a heavy sigh and rolls his head to look at you.

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” You nod, leaning your body across the center console to get close to him. You can tell he’s nervous, maybe embarrassed.

“You know me, Wonwoo. I always get what I want.” You grin and Wonwoo turns to look at you again and suddenly you’re aware that you aren’t dating him anymore. That it’s weird for you to be that close to him.

Your smile drops and you sink back into your seat. Wonwoo watches you, a frown replacing his previous smile.

“I’m— I’m so sorry.” You press yourself as close to your door as possible. “I shouldn’t have— I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Wonwoo fights the itch in his brain that tells him to grab your hand and place a kiss on the back of it. He hadn’t realized just how enchanted with you he was until he saw you across the room for the first time in ten years. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having you pulled against his side, although you fit much better now that he’d filled out and grown into his body. Wonwoo hadn’t missed the way your breathing hitched when he pulled you against him, hadn’t missed the dazed look in your eye when he looked down to ensure that you weren’t hurt. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I just— I shouldn’t have touched you like that—”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo cuts you off. “You did nothing that I didn’t want you to do.” Your mouth snaps shut, and you look at him with wide eyes. He takes a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “I…I still— fuck this is harder than I thought it would be. For a songwriter, you would think I’d know how to confess that I’m still enchanted by you.” He laughs nervously, and when he turns to look at you, you’re smiling gently. You understand.

You stay quiet and then turn to him again. He’s facing you too, and your faces are inches apart.

“I was enchanted by you too, Jeon Wonwoo.”

And then your lips are on his, and it’s a searing kiss that leaves him breathless from the moment it starts. His hand rises to your cheek, gently pulling you even closer to him. Your hands wrap around the fabric of his shirt, and you whine when his tongue hesitantly prods at the seam of your lips.

You open your mouth for him, and his hand slides to tangle in your hair and pull you impossibly closer, nearly across the center console. He roams your mouth, his tongue licking at every inch, sliding against your own as if this was the last time he’d ever be able to kiss you. Your hand slides down, tracing down to his tie, then to his abdomen and you can feel the muscles tightening wherever your nails trace.

Your hand trails even lower, and you feel him freeze against you when you place your hand over his crotch. He forces himself to pull his lips from yours, a string of spit connecting your tongues, and his eyes flutter shut again when your hand squeezes lightly around his hard-on.

“Don’t do this to me,” he pleads. “I’m supposed to be a gentleman.” You smirk, raising your lips to his ear.

“What if I don’t want you to be?” A gentle kiss was placed to the corner of his jaw, and his grip on your hair tightened to the point of near painful. This draws a whimper out of you, right in his ear. He pulls you back, not harshly but enough for your jaw to drop.

“Tell me you’re sure,” he practically begs. “Tell me that this isn’t going to be a one-time thing, that you want me as much as I want you. Tell me that you aren’t in love with someone else, that there’s no one waiting for you at home.”

Tell me you love me.

Your hand slips to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing just under his eye.

“You know that you’ve always been it for me, Jeon Wonwoo.” You promise, and your lips are against his again. It’s sweeter than the first but still filled with ten years of words left unsaid. “Take me home.”

The moment Wonwoo locks the door to his apartment, you’re pressed against the wall with so much force you’re surprised there isn’t a hole in the shape of your body. His hands are on your hips, your thighs, your shoulders, and your chest. Every time he pulls away from your lips, he catches one between his teeth, nipping at the soft flesh before shifting his focus to your neck.

“Wonwoo,” your voice is shaking, your hand tangled in the dark strands of his once neatly styled hair. “Wonwoo, please?” Another hickey blooms across your neck, another on your shoulder, then your collarbone.

“Please what, baby?” He rasps, tugging the strap of your dress to the side until it slips down your shoulder and exposes more of your breast. “What do you need from me?” He slides the other strap down, and you gasp when his cold hands reach up and grab at the soft mounds on your chest.

“Wonwoo— Wonwoo, I—” Your brain has gone to mush the moment his mouth lands on your nipple, sucking at it and nipping at the bud. You breathe out soft moans, your hands struggling to move to the back of your dress to reach for the zipper.

It’s impossible to function with Wonwoo flicking his tongue against one nipple, his fingers kneading and twisting and pinching at the other. Your hands shake as you finally catch the zipper, yanking it down as quickly, yet gently, as possible.

Wonwoo pulls away from your chest, breathing heavily, eyes filled with nothing but lust. He examines your body, entirely nude from your choice to go braless and pantiless tonight, and his cock twitches in his slacks.

“God, you’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” He hisses. You peer up at him with eyes so innocent, but you both know that isn’t the case. “Did you know I was gonna be there? Hm?” He grabs your chin in one of his large hands, yanking you toward his face until you’re struggling to even stand on your tip toes. “Did you know that I was gonna give in to you?”

“No— Wonwoo, I didn’t know—” His free hand collides with your ass and you cry out, stumbling toward him. “Fuck, Wonwoo!” His hand strikes your skin again, and a gush of arousal practically drips down your legs.

“I think you’re lying to me,” he hums thoughtfully. “Lying isn’t nice, you know.”

“I’m not lying— Oh, Wonwoo please—” His free hand has slipped down to your core, delicate fingers brushing against your sopping wet cunt. “Please touch me, please, I need it.”

“Yeah, baby?” One finger pushes between your folds, and your knees almost buckle. Your nails dig into his biceps, squeezing the taut muscle as he sinks two long, slender fingers into you. “Need it so bad, don’t you? Had you waiting for so long. Did you miss me, baby? Miss this?”

“Missed you so bad, Wonwoo,” you arch your back into him, your hips jerking against his fingers. He slips a third inside of you. “Miss— Missed the way you t-touched me.” He hums, curling his fingers up into you and you emit a desperate cry of his name. “Right there, Wonwoo! Fu—fuck, right there!”

“Tell me how much you missed me, pretty girl.” He continues to curl his fingers inside of you, watching you and enamored by the way your eyes roll back, the way your jaw is dropped, and the way your chest heaves. “Tell me how much you need me.”

“N-Need you so–o bad. No o-one makes me fe-feel this good— oh god,” you clench around his fingers, pulsing and dripping down his wrist. “No one el-se made me c-cum like you d-do.” A swell of pride in his chest, and his thumb presses hard against your clit. You spasm around him, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. “So close, Wonwoo.”

“It’s okay baby,” he purrs, “you can let go. I’m here now, gonna make you feel good. Gonna make you so good, never gonna have to turn to anyone else again. Just let go.”

You spasm again, and your body sags as your orgasm rocks through you. Wonwoo has an arm around his waist, his other hand still working his fingers into you and easing you through your high.

It takes you a few minutes to come down, and by the time you do, Wonwoo has removed his shirt and kicked his shoes off. He’s watching you as you try to step forward, catching you when you stumble. You reach for the button of his slacks and he stops you, smiling when you pout.

“I’m not fucking you here, baby. You deserve to be fucked in an actual bed.” You let him guide you to his bedroom— correction try to guide you. It’s like you’re addicted to the taste of him, your lips practically gluing themselves to his biceps, licking and biting at the salty skin. You can feel every one of his breaths as he walks, and his pace picks up until he’s flinging open his bedroom door and shoving you in front of him. You stumble a bit, and he pushes you again so you fall face down onto his bed. Wonwoo isn’t far behind you, his body leaning over yours and his hand on the back of your neck and preventing you from pushing yourself up.

“Do you know how much I missed this? Being able to fuck you wherever, whenever, and however I wanted?” He hisses into your ear, and you feel his free hand slip down your back as he reaches for the button on his pants. His hips keep rolling into yours, and the little grunts and moans that he releases are almost enough to get you to cum again. “Do you know how hard it was to not imagine that I was fucking your sweet little cunt every time I found someone to spend the night with? No one matched up to you, sweet girl. No one got me to cum like you do, got me as hard as you do.” You whine when he kicks your ankles apart, your nails gripping the duvet for dear life.

When you feel his tip prodding at your entrance, it takes everything in you to not grind into him. He’s breathing heavily into your neck, slowly slipping in. Your body twitches and you fling your hand back, frantically searching for his own to squeeze and distract yourself from the pain of him stretching you out.

“So tight,” he presses his forehead against the back of your neck, his body shuddering. “Fuck, it’s like nobody has fucked since me.”

“N-nobody else felt as good as you,” you gasp out. “No one could stretch me out like you do. Just fuck me, please.”

“Gotta let you adjust, baby,” he argues. “Still got about half left.”

You whine again, jerking his arm in front of you and letting your face fall into it. He groans when your teeth sink into his skin, biting and sucking and gasping against him until you feel his hips connect with yours.

“You ready?” He rubs your back gently, and you frantically nod your head.

“Please, please, please, please—” His hips pull back and you release a guttural moan as he slams his hips into yours. Again and again and again and again. Every thrust sends the tip of cock full force into that soft, pleasurable spot inside of you and it feels so good, and he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, and you don’t ask him to. Your mouth has fallen open, a neverending stream of cries and moans and begging leaving your lips.

His hands reach forward, and you feel a finger hook into your mouth on either side. It stings, the stretch of him holding your mouth open, and you feel your back arch, his cock somehow hitting even deeper inside of you. Drool slips down your chin and it’s so nasty but you can’t form the words to stop him. The only things that leave your mouth are nonsensical babbling and you feel Wonwoo begin to rise, taking you with him. One of his hands leaves your mouth and slips down to the base of your throat, and the other’s thumb hooks into your jaw and holds your mouth open. His hand squeezes around your throat, and you squeeze around his cock

“You close, baby?” Wonwoo coos into your ear but you don’t have the brains to form words. Your hips press back into his, one of your hands slipping down to frantically rub at your clit. You’re clenching rapidly around him now, almost in time with when he pulls out of you and you can feel him twitching inside of you. “Gonna cum again?”

You try to tell him that, yes you’re so close and it feels so good and oh god Wonwoo please—

Your body shudders and a sound similar to a scream escapes you, your free hand gripping his forearm tightly and you can feel the skin tearing beneath your nails but neither of you cares as he pumps white-hot cum deep inside of you. His hips are still rolling, adding to the sensation of his cum inside of you. Your core begins to sting with overstimulation, and you try to pull away from Wonwoo with a whine. He just laughs, his hands settling on your waist and lowering you down onto the bed once his cock has softened.

Your back is against his in the tub and he’s running a soft cloth along your body, along the marks on your body and the bruises on your hips.

“You doing okay?” His voice is tender. “I know I was a little bit harsh on you.”

You chuckle. “Not like you haven’t done that before.”

You play with the suds that float in the water, humming quietly. Wonwoo takes a deep breath, letting his head fall back a bit.

“Why don’t you hate me?” You lean your head back on his chest, and he frowns at the question.

“Why would I hate you?”

A shrug and you drop your arms into the water.

“I threw away a nearly perfect relationship just because someone said you’d drop me the moment you found someone better in the idol industry.”

“So?” Wonwoo traces shapes into the skin of your thigh. “That’s not your fault. I get that it was scary. Neither of us knew what was gonna happen, you were already stressed about how things were gonna work with you being in college. I’m not gonna blame you or hate you for that choice. What matters is that we found each other again.”

Your cheeks heat up and you turn your body around in the tub to sit on his lap. He looks up at you with nothing but pure adoration in his eyes.

“Did you mean what you said?” You ask. He raises an eyebrow. “In the hallway. That I’d never have to turn to anyone else. Are we gonna…” Your voice trails off and Wonwoo raises his head to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I meant every single word I said tonight. I’m here to stay, Y/N.” His nose nudges against yours. “I was enchanted from the moment I met you, and I want to be yours again if you’ll let me.”

You play with the strands of his hair, smiling like a madman.

“And I meant everything I said as well,” You let your forehead rest against his, your eyes falling shut. “I want you to stay with me. Please.”

Wonwoo exhales softly.

“Always. I will always stay.”

Taglist: @juyeonszn @leejihoonownsmyheart @nobraincellmode

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dreamescapeswriting · 2 months

Text

Melodic Rivalry ~ KNJ

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

GENRE: Enemies to lovers, implied sexual interaction, surprise pregnancy, hiding pregnancy trope, angst, soft ending [Didn't include smut as it's an anon and I don't know your age, so it's implied that they have sex xx]

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

You stared down at the magazine with a disgusted look on your face, a photo of you and Namjoon on the cover with giant smiles on your faces as you sat together but the shot wasn't real. The two of you could never sit still long enough for a photo to be taken so the magazine had to photoshop the two of you together to fit the story that they had written and published.

All about how you and Namjoon were the perfect team, both of you had undeniable talent and worked well together in the studio. Namjoon was a musician with the knack of composing soul-stringing melodies, his talent knew no bounds and his music had the oer to move even the most stoic of souls. You were a producer with an unparalleled ear for sound, with the ability to transform raw talent into polished masterpieces and despite working well together in the music industry that was where everything stopped.

The two of you were like oil and water - constantly at odds with each other. Your egos clashed, your opinions collided, and your tempers flared at the slightest provocation. Working together was fraught with tension, each session devolving into a battle of wills and creative differences but each time the music came out brilliantly.

As you got to the studio door you pushed it open and found it dimly lit, the only light coming from a soft glow of a mixing console. Namjoon sat at his piano, his fingers dancing across the keys getting lost in whatever he was composing so you stood at the soundboard, your arms folded across your chest as you stared at him. He was supposed to be working on something more upbeat, not another love ballad he was no doubt writing.

"Oh, how touching. Another one of your generic love ballads, I presume?" You asked sarcastically, ignoring the glare that Namjoon shot your way, his jaw tight as he stared down at the keys.

"If you have something to say, Yn, say it. Otherwise, keep your critiques to yourself." He said through gritted teeth.

"Typical. Can't handle a little criticism, can you?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"Criticism? All you do is tear down everything I create! You have no respect for my talent!"

"Respect? Please. You're the one who waltzes in here with your inflated ego and expects everyone to bow down to you."

The tension in the room was thick with unresolved animosity but you stared at one another, your eyes twitching.

"For someone who claims to hate my music so much, you spend a lot of time listening to it." You stared at him, shaking your head and scoffing a little. Of course, you listened to it, you had to because it was your job.

"That's because it's my job, you arrogant prick!" You cried out, your anger way past your boiling point now but Namjoon just stood up and took a step closer to you, his gaze burning with intensity.

"Is that the only reason?" He asked softly, your breath caught in your throat, your resolve weakening with each passing moment.

"Of course not." You whispered, your voice barely coming out. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between you. And in that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet sanctuary of the studio.

Without a word, Namjoon closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. And then, in a rush of pent-up emotion, your lips met in a searing kiss—a collision of desire and frustration that sent shockwaves through you both.

For a moment, you were lost in each other, your bickering and resentment fading into the background as you surrendered to the undeniable chemistry that had always lingered between you.

But as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, leaving you breathless and uncertain. You stepped away from him, your fingertips gently touching your lips as you stared at him.

"We shouldn't have done that." Your voice trembled a little as you looked up at Namjoon, his eyes were blazing.

"Why not? We both know there's something between us." He stares down at you.

"This... this is madness. We can't stand each other." You whimpered, shaking your head at him, Namjoon stepped closer to you though, his voice dropping as he stared down at you,

"Maybe that's because we're so alike. Two stubborn souls fighting against the inevitable." You determined to hate him, to push him away from you crumbled, your walls tumbling down in the face of Namjoon's unwavering honesty.

"We can't even stand to look at one another." You mumbled at him, it was true. The two of you could barely go ten minutes without a fight breaking out. The kiss had been a one-off, the passion and sparks you'd felt were nothing more than a static shock or something.

"Stop fighting it, are you scared?" He smirked at you and you hated him for it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face,

"No," You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes as you tried to ignore the way your heart was thumping for him, the way your palms were sweating.

"Everyone knows we should be together, we should just embrace it," Namjoon smirked, your eyes meeting as you bit down on your lip. You had your reservations, the two of you bickered like an old married couple and you weren't sure it was healthy.

"Stop overthinking it," He whined before your lips met once more, the tentative kiss turning quickly into a fiery passion neither of you could deny. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as finally that pent-up tension and longer erupted into a raw and unbridled kiss.

"I've wanted to do that for so long." Namjoon rushed out, his voice husky as you worked on unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing,

"Me too." You breathed out, kissing him deeply as he carefully took you over to the sofa, both of your clothes being strewn around the room as the kiss between you heated up once again.

Ever since that night in the studio with Namjoon, you did everything within your power to avoid him, you started working from home, switching to another group to work with not being able to face him but today had been inevitable, you had to go into work because of a meeting with Hannah, your manager and also one of your best friends.

The two of you had shared one night of unbelievable passion but when you woke up the next morning he was gone, his clothes were gone and there was a note on his desk asking you to lock up when you were dressed. Since there you'd not even received a text asking how you were, or even a call and you hated him more for it.

I've wanted this for so long.

Had been such bullshit, something he was saying just so that he could get laid, anger bubbled inside of you until you snapped the pencil you were holding.

"You okay? You look unwell," Hannah said as she gently rubbed your back, you were feeling a little under the weather but you put it down to the fact that you were going to have to face Namjoon sometime soon.

"Just a little queasy, that's all." You said with a forced smile, trying to brush it off but Hannah narrowed her eyes at you and exchanged a look with John, one of your other work friends.

"You've been feeling off for a while now, maybe take some holiday days." He suggested with a furrowed brow. It wasn't like you to get sick which was a little concerning for all of them.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." You muttered weakly, slowly standing up from the desk as your stomach churned with anxiety and a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

"Yn?" Hannah called out but you sat back down in the chair, your bin between your legs as you threw up the contents of your stomach again.

"Here, drink this," John said as he slid you over a glass of water, Hannah was running to her desk and rummaging through it all.

"Hans? What are you looking for?" You mumbled, wiping your mouth with a tissue and staring at her as she walked back over to you.

She was the only person other than you and Namjoon that knew what happened in that studio 6 weeks ago and John frowned at the blue box.

"Take it," She told you plainly, John sent her a puzzled look with confusion written across his face.

"I...I can't...It'll make it all real," You'd had your suspicions that it was true but you figured if you ignored it long enough and denied it then it couldn't be real.

"Take it, we'll be here for you, no matter what," Hannah told you as John nodded, helping you stand up as they all walked you toward the women's toilets.

Those three minutes you were supposed to wait for the test felt like three hours, each second ticking by tortuously slowly as you, John and Hannah stared around the small office waiting for it to tell you the truth.

"Time," John said as his watch began to beep, your hand linked with Hannah's and you stared down at the pink stick, tears brimming inside of your eyes.

"I'm pregnant." Your voice trembled and instantly you were engulfed in a hug from your two favourite people.

"Work from home until we figure something out," Hannah told you, running her hands over your cheeks and wiping away the tears.

It had been almost five months since discovering you were pregnant and you'd done everything you could to hide it from Namjoon. If he had done everything to get you to leave him alone after your night together then you weren't going to tell him about the kid but the weight of hiding it was crushing you.

You paced around your office, a mix of fear and uncertainty raging inside of you as you waited for John to hurry back with the next stack of assignments you needed to work through.

"Everything is there, I'm sorry I promise next time I'll bring them to you. I'm just swamped." John said as he gave you a bag, you nodded quickly kissing his cheek and making a dart out of the door. You needed to get out of the building before anyone could spot you and the news got back to Namjoon.

Lost in your thoughts as you walked through the halls, you nearly collided with someone as you rounded a corner. You slowly looked up and whimpered finding Jungkook standing there,

"Hey! Sorry! Are you alright?" He frowned staring at you,

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed nervously but you just shook your head at him,

"I'm fine, just a bit...distracted." You said with a forced smile but Jungkook's browns knotted together as he slowly looked down at you, his eyes lingering on your swollen belly/

"Is everything okay? You look like you're about to pop.." He laughed softly and your heart raced, panic bubbling up inside of you as you struggled to come up with an explanation. Jungkook had seen you those seven months back coming out of Namjoon's studio with a freshly "fucked" look on your face.

"Yeah, everything's good. Just...tired, that's all." You said hesitantly, smiling weakly as he stared down at you.

"It's his...right?" He waited for you to say something but you didn't even want to admit it to yourself, admitting it to Namjoon's bandmember was going to be damn near impossible,

"Jungkook." You pleaded, shaking your head at him as if asking him to stop all of this.

"Yn, is it his?" You stared at him, your stomach churning with anxiety as you tried to think of something to say but your mind was racing at a million words a second.

"Please, Jungkook, you can't tell Namjoon. He can't know about the baby." Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at you. Everyone knew how badly Namjoon wanted to be a father and hiding something like this from him would no doubt kill him.

"Why didn't you tell him? He has a right to know." He didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, he knew you were pregnant and in a delicate place right now but Namjoon deserved to know he was going to have a kid.

"He lost that right when he made it clear that night meant nothing to him like he claimed it did." You grumbled, pulling your coat over to cover your bump to make sure no one else was likely to see you.

"Yn," Jungkook said slowly but you held your hand up,

"Don't make excuses for him Jungkook. He fucking used me." Your voice trembled as tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of everything finally causing you to crack.

"You can't hide this from him forever. He has a right to know."

"Just let me figure things out first." You mumbled, begging him as he stared down at you.

"Fine." He stared at you as you nodded, slowly walking away from him as you felt an impending doom hanging over you, threatening to shatter everything you'd built to protect yourself.

After you left Jungkook stood outside of Namjoon's studio, his heart heavy with the weight of the truth he was about to reveal. As much as he wanted to keep your secret he didn't want to do that to his friend and he knew there was more to the story than Namjoon ignoring you after a night together.

"Joonie, we need to talk." He said as he walked into the studio, Namjoon frowned at him but nodded for the youngest member to sit down.

"What's up?" He asked him slowly as Jungkook's throat tightened, his head muddled trying to find the right way to say it.

"It's about Yn." Namjoon's hand on his pen tightened,

"What about her?" He asked, animosity laced in his voice as he thought about you.

"She wanted to come crawling back to us? I don't want her working with us anymore." He grumbled out, Jungkook eyed him up as he stared at him wondering what had gone so terribly wrong between the two of you.

"She's not welcome here anymore."

"Why?" There was going to be no more dancing around the topic and not mentioning your name as if you were Voldemort.

"She knows what she did wrong." He hissed making Jungkook frown. It seemed the two of you believed the other was in the wrong.

"What did she do, Hyung?"

"She slept with me when she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home." Jungkook knew you were single, you'd devoted every single second of your life to music.

"Boyfriend? Noona doesn't have a boyfriend."

"So who was John? He was texting her all night, asking where she was and when she was going to go back to him because he was waiting for her back home." None of that made sense,

"John is one of her co-workers, he works with TXT," Jungkook told him before realisation began to register with Namjoon who the man had been.

"So...W...What did you want to talk to me about?" Jungkook sighed a little.

"She's pregnant, Namjoon. Seven months along." Namjoon's world came to a crashing halt as he stared at him, his mind reeling in disbelief and confusion.

"How?" He asked shocked, Jungkook hesitated, his gaze filled with sympathy as he watched everything hit Namjoon.

"You know how." He said softly but Namjoon just stared at the floor. The truth hits him like a ton of bricks, everything falls into place. Your sudden avoidance, working from home and refusing to be their producer anymore. It was all making sense now.

"She's carrying my child," He whispered as Jungkook sighed a little.

"She asked me not to tell you but you needed to know," Namjoon nodded at him, barely acknowledging him as he slowly got up and made his way out of the studio.

Before he knew what was happening Namjoon was outside your place and knocking on the door. He knew it was going to be hard to talk to you about all of this since so much time had passed but it was time to face the truth.

"We have to talk." Namjoon said as soon as you opened the door to him, your chest aching with seeing him standing there. You knew Jungkook wouldn't have been able to keep his mouth shut so you'd been preparing for him.

"What about?" You stared at him as he took in a deep breath,

"About the baby," His eyes were filled with something you'd never seen from him before, he looked so vulnerable.

"What about the baby?" You asked, stepping to the side and letting him into your apartment.

"I want to be a part of their life, Yn. I want to be there for them, to watch them grow up, to be their father." Your breath caught in your throat at his words,

"Why? You practically kicked me out the night after we had sex so why all of a sudden do you care?"

"I thought you had a boyfriend! Okay? I saw a text from John and I thought-"

"That I was whoring myself out to everyone so you just decided to give me the cold shoulder?" You snapped angrily at him, you couldn't believe he would do something like this.

"You're the one hiding my child from me!" He grumbled at you and you sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

"This is why we can't do it together. We fight all the time, we just scream at each other." You mumbled, sitting down on the sofa and feeling completely defeated.

"Yn."

"Can you look at me and tell me that when this baby comes it'll work out between us?" You didn't want to keep his kid from him but you also were scared of everything that was coming,

"No."

"So-"

"But I love you, okay? Fuck, I've loved you for so long and I just never show it right." You stared at him in complete shock.

"I love you and I love our baby. I may not have been ready to admit it before, but now...now I can't imagine life without you."

"But-" You barely had a chance to object before Namjoon continued.

"The last seven months without getting to see you have been torture. I miss the jabs you used to say, I miss seeing you...Please."

"We've both made mistakes, Yn. But that doesn't mean we can't try and make things right. For the sake of our child, and for the sake of our love." Tears built inside of your eyes as you struggled to process everything.

"I want to believe you, I do...but...But I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt, scared of losing you again." You finally admit, your tears free falling as you finally let yourself admit you loved him back, that you were hopelessly in love with him.

"I won't let that happen, Yn, I promise you. Just give me a chance to prove it to you and show you how much you mean to me."

"I love you too," You whispered to him, your heart racing as he smiled down at you.

"We can try." You told him as he hugged you close to him,

"Tell me everything I've missed? D-Do you have photos?" You nodded at him, slowly taking him through to your bedroom to get the album you'd already started making of your ultrasounds.

A soft glow filled the cosy living room as you and Namjoon sat together on the couch, your laughter mingling with the sound of your son's joyful giggles. It had been a year since that fateful night when Namjoon had shown up on your doorstep, and in that time, your lives had changed in ways you could have never imagined.

Your son toddled around the room with boundless energy, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement as he chased after his favourite toy. Namjoon watched him with a smile, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of his little boy.

"Look at him go, babe. He's getting so big." He said with a giant grin on his face, you smiled as you stared at him, your eyes shining with love as she reached out to ruffle his hair.

"He's growing up so fast. I can't believe he's already a year old." You whined, you hated that it was going too quickly. You wanted him to stay young forever.

"I'm so grateful for you, Yn. For him. For everything." Namjoon said as he kissed your head softly. Your heart swelled with emotion at his words, your eyes shining with unshed tears as you reached out to take his hand in yours.

"And I'm grateful for you, Namjoon. For giving us a second chance, for never giving up on us." Your voice shook a little and he kissed you softly.

In that moment, as you sat together in the warmth of your shared love, you knew that they had found something truly special—a love that had weathered the storms of doubt and uncertainty, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #kim namjoon #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon imagines #kim namjoon x reader

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mayfieldss · 4 months

Text

Lessons in chemistry - Peter Parker

Synopsis: Your best friend Peter tries to teach you how to skateboard, but distractions occur.

AN: it's one in the morning, and I gave in to the delusions. They have taken me in as one of their own, and they said they would let me go if i posted this.

"You gotta trust me, okay?" Peter's got one foot on the skateboard, holding it steady as you stand a fair distance away, hesitant and unsure why you agreed to this particular day.

Peter had offered to teach you to skateboard, and while the offer seemed perfectly reasonable and fun at the time, being here now was an entirely different story. You were beyond clumsy and hopeless when it came to learning new things. Peter knew this, yet he seemed so certain you could do this one activity.

"I don't think this is a good idea, Peter." You're squinting as the sun beats down at you, and the concrete you stand on currently seems far too menacing to learn to skate on. Peter had originally offered to start you out on grass, but to do that you would have had to go somewhere more public to find some, being in new york and all, and you weren't fond of embarrassing yourself in front of more than just Peter.

"Just c'mere." Peter is waving you over to him, and the gentle smile on his lips is enough to bribe you closer.

"Okay, now give me your hands."

You do as you're told, and he gives your hands an encouraging squeeze.

"I'm holding the board steady. It shouldn't go anywhere when you get on, okay?" He's trying to make you feel better, but the anxiety within you picks apart his words.

"It shouldn't, but it might." You mumble, eyes down on the board, glaring harshly at its existence.

"Can you just trust me madame pessimism?" There's a humorous sigh that falls from him as you get up the courage to step on the board, and when you do, it seems okay.

"See? There you go. The first step is done." Peter squeezes your hand again, and you wobble a little on the board despite Peter keeping it from rolling away.

"Well, this was fun. Time to go home now." It comes off as a joke, but you're more than serious as Peter shakes his head.

"Give it a chance."

You look up at him, and you're oddly close. With your hands in his, it's almost as though you're about to dance under the old overpass at which you stand. "Okay, Parker, I trust you." You mean it, but that doesn't mean you're at all comfortable with what you're about to do. Part of you wishes you'd stayed home, while the other is glad to be here with Peter.

"I'm gonna take my foot away from the board now, okay? It's gonna roll a little, but I got you so don't worry."

"I'm worrying Peter."

He laughs. A beautiful laugh and a wonderful smile accompanying it before he begins the fated count down. "On three, one, two–" he lets the board free, and you don't move much, being on flat ground and all, but still the slight adjustment freaks you out just a little. Again, you sway on the board, and Peter holds you steady.

"I hate this so much." You whine, unable to contain the true depth of your feelings. The situation is so far out of your comfort zone that it feels as though your skin is crawling with you inside it.

"Well, it's not like I can tell or anything. I mean, you look like you're having a great time. You know, with the tense shoulders and genuine panic in your eyes, I would have assumed you were having fun or something." his sarcasm does little to ease you, but it's so truly Peter. So authentic to his person that you can almost imagine yourself standing on flat ground beside him, rather than supported by the wheels of his old and flimsy skateboard.

"Let's just get this over with." You try for a smile, but it's hard to do, every muscle in your body preoccupied with trying to stay as still as possible.

"We're gonna try and move now, just a little."

"Fuck."

"Yeah," Peter laughs "fuck."

And just like that, you're rolling along, heart beating quickly as Peter sends encouragements. You're stable for a few moments before you get into your head and feel yourself tilting backward. Letting go of his hands, you rush to grasp Peter's shoulders, his hands falling to your waist as he pulls you toward him and off the board.

"Woah, okay, that was a good first attempt."

You're gripping him tight, too tight, as the board rolls away from you both. Peter will go get it later, but for now he's with you.

"I almost died." You mutter, a death grip on Peter's jacket.

"You were fine." Peter chuckles, pulling you in for a hug. You accept it, despite the fact you're slightly upset with him for making you do this. And when you pull back, squinting up at him you lose all the stress from before.

Peter loses himself entirely, thinking things nowhere near the topic of skateboarding and closer to the topic of kissing.

"You did great... really great." Peter insists one hand running down your back as he tries to stop the thoughts racing through his head. He'd always liked you, as more than a friend. He'd always wanted to wake up beside you, hold your hand, take you to prom. He'd always wanted you.

He clears his throat, and you look away from him, almost disappointed.

"You want to try again?" He asks, trying to get back on track. You shake your head and look back to him, and in your eyes, he sees something different. A sort of confidence.

"What do I get if I do?" You're teasing him. He thinks you are, at least, but the mischief you're offering is tempting.

"What do you want?"

"A dinner date, somewhere where there's pasta." You answer, so sure of yourself, and Peter's brain freezes up.

"A date as in a date or...?" He sounds so stupid like this, and he realizes just how close he still is to you. Where his hands are placed softly on your hips and where your fingers hold fast to his shoulders.

"Whatever you want it to be, Peter. Now, if we have a deal, I would like to try again." You look to the direction the skateboard had gone and see it paused a small distance away, but you don't get to retrieve it. Before you can, Peter's hand comes up to your face, fingers placed gently on your jaw to turn your gaze back his way.

It's not what you expect from him, and in honesty, it's not what Peter expects from himself either but he leans in closer, pausing just long enough for you to pull away if you want to.

"Do it." You whisper, your breath brushing over his lips, as if painting the grin that spreads onto his face.

The kiss is gentle, his nose bumping awkwardly with yours as he leans closer, closing the gap. He can feel the heat in your cheeks when he places his hands there, thumb brushing over the skin as he breathes you in. Your fingers grip his shoulders harder now, moving up toward his neck to hold him closer, and there's something about the way you move with him so perfectly that makes him think this can't possibly be real. But it is, and when he pulls back for air, he examines your features, hoping for your reaction. You speak first, before he can.

"That was weird," you say, breaking his heart a little. "But in a good way. I'd like to try it again sometime, if that's okay with you?" You mend the break easily, and soon he's grinning again, one hand finding it's way into your hair.

"It's definitely okay with me." Peter mumbles, eyes drifting back down to your lips in anticipation.

"Should I book a time with your secretary for our next appointment?" Your head tilts to the side as you watch every expression that crosses his face. He's beautiful, definitely, and his heart is yours.

"As a matter of fact, I have an hour or two free right now. I was skateboarding with this girl I really like, but I think her mind is wandering elsewhere."

You smack him hard on the arm, but before you can remark anything back, he's kissing you again, sending you into a blissful silence.

You're learning very little about skateboarding, but it seems your time is well spent anyway. Peter doesn't care how long he's here for, and he'll forget his skateboard under the overpass in favor of walking you home. He'll hold your hand the whole way there and kiss you goodbye on the doorstep before he leaves. He'll have everything he's ever wanted by the end of the day, skateboard or not, and that's more than okay with him.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

MARVEL GENERAL: @5kyyyy

TASM PETER PARKER: @arignipanja574 @winter-soldier-vibes

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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months

Text

SLUT!

chapter two: you must like me for me

series masterlist

You had settled into a sort of routine with Peter. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you meet up before chemistry and study together in the library. You’d become pretty good friends due to how often you saw each other but had yet to hang out outside of your study sessions. Now that it was mid September, Peter was eager to take your friendship to the next level.

“Good morning.” You greeted Peter as walked into the classroom one day and went straight to the seat beside him. A few of your classmates looked up at you as you passed and snickered, but you payed them no mind.

“Morning. I shared a Google doc with you so we could take notes together. I figured that might help you understand things better.”

“You did?” You asked and opened your laptop. You saw the shared doc and how Peter had already organized and highlighted a few things that you had been confused about during your last tutoring session. You stared at the notes for a minute and blinked in surprise over someone genuinely caring about your grades.

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked you when he noticed you freeze.

“Sorry. I think I just fell in love with you.”

“It’s okay. It happens to me all the time, actually.” Peter replied with a wave of his hand.

“Oh, I bet.” You laughed, making him laugh as well. The professor started class and you took your notes together on the shared doc. Peter noticed you typing things and then deleting them to rewrite them the way Peter had shown you. He smiled to see you using his techniques and looked over at you proudly. When class ended, he was disappointed that your time together was ending as well.

“Do you have class now?” He asked you as he put his backpack on.

“Yeah. In the building next door.” You replied.

“I’ll walk you.” Peter offered, making you smile. As he walked you to your next class, your hands bumped against each others a few times. He never found the courage to take your hand, though you wished he did.

“See you Thursday?” Peter asked once you reached your next class.

“Actually, if you’re not too sick of me, I have a game tomorrow. It’s at 6 on the main field. You totally don’t have to go-“

“I’ll be there.” Peter said immediately.

“Really? You’ll come?”

“I get a free water bottle, don’t I?” Peter asked, making you smile.

“You do. I’ll even sign it for you.” You said with a coy smile.

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” He replied and got a laugh from you.

“See you tomorrow, Peter.” You squeezed his arm before going into your class.

The next day, Peter was seated on the bleachers as the girls soccer team played in front of him. Peters eyes never left you and while he didn’t know much about soccer, he was impressed with how you played. But it didn’t take long for Peter to notice that no one ever passed the ball to you. When you did have the ball, you brought it up the field with ease before passing it over. But when you didn’t have the ball, it seemed like your team mates passed to everyone but you. Peter didn’t know if he should bring it up or not as you ran to him once the game ended.

“Hey. You made it.” You smiled and pulled Peter into a hug. Peter was surprised by the contact but welcomed it and hugged you back.

“Sorry. Sweaty.” You smiled in embarrassment as you pulled away.

“It’s okay. I was cold anyway.” Peter laughed shyly. Three of your teammates walked by and when they saw you talking to Peter, they looked at each other and laughed. Peter watched your smile fade as you took a step back from him.

“Hey guys. Are we doing anything after the game?” You asked them. They looked at each other again before faking smiles.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so.” One of the girls told you.

“Okay. See you at practice, then.” You said and waved to them. The girls didn’t wave back and walked off together. You and Peter walked them them meet up with some more of your teammates in the parking lot and get in the same car. Your smile faded completely as Peter looked at you sympathetically. You looked at Peter to see if he noticed and felt embarrassed when you realized he had.

“Yeah. I kinda knew that was coming.” You laughed sadly to break the awkward silence that had settled.

“Are you guys not friends?” Peter asked quietly.

“We were at first. But everyone thinks I hooked up with Gwen’s boyfriend right after they broke up. Which isn’t true, but hey, why believe me? Her boyfriend said it happened and whatever the jocks say is true apparently.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

“Wait, so Gwen forgave her boyfriend for hooking up with you but didn’t forgive you?” Peter asked.

“Funny how that works, isn’t it?” You smiled sadly. “I knew Gwen two years before she started dating him but none of that mattered. They all believed him over me and rumor ruined our friendship.”

Peter stayed silent as you watched your teammates drive away while music blasted from inside the car. You eyes slowly lowered to the ground and you wiped your face before throwing on a smile.

“They’re not bad people. If I thought a girl went for my boyfriend right after he broke up with me, I wouldn’t like her either. And I definitely wouldn’t want my friends talking to her.”

“Still. It sucks that they exclude you for something you didn’t even do.” Peter replied. You looked and him and smiled at him for understanding.

“Yeah. It does suck.” You agreed. “Thanks for coming to watch me play, Peter.”

“Of course. I had a good time. Even though I don’t get the rules and really wanted you guys to just pick the ball up and throw it sometimes.”

“Well, if you want, I could explain the rules over some ice cream.”

“I would love that.” Peter smiled and extended his arm. You smiled back and linked your arm through his. You brought him to your car and drove to a nearby ice cream shop. You paid for Peters ice cream and winked at him as you handed over your card. He laughed and felt his face turn red.

“Thank you. But the boy is supposed to pay, by the way.” Peter said as you took seats in a corner booth.

“I love that you call yourself a “boy” and never a “man”. It’s cute. And this is my way of thanking you for tutoring me. And for showing up to my game.” You said as you ate a spoonful of your ice cream. Peter blushed at the compliment and cleared his throat to cover it up.

“Well you’re very welcome. I’m happy to do both of those things.” Peter replied. You exchanged smiles with each other which prompted you to scoot closer to Peter.

“So how’d you get so good at chemistry?” You asked him.

“I had a lot of time to study in high school. A lack of friends and romantic prospects really frees up your schedule.” Peter answered.

“You’ve been friends with Ned since high school, right?”

“I have. How’d you know that?”

“I stalked Ned’s Instagram. And was very disappointed to find out you don’t have one. But not as disappointed as I am that you don’t wear those little circle glasses anymore.” You said pointedly.

“Oh God. He has pictures of those up?” Peter cringed.

“Many. And why the face? You looked so cute with your little Harry Potter glasses.” You said and playfully smacked his arm.

“They were not my best look. Although, I don’t think I’ve had my best look yet.”

“You have. It was that white T shirt you wore the first day of school. You made it very hard to pay attention to the syllabus that day.” You replied, making Peter blush once again.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He said quietly. “I liked that black skirt you wore last Tuesday.”

“Did you now?” You raised an eyebrow as you ate another spoonful of ice cream.

“Mhm. Very much so.” He admitted.

“I guess I’ll have to wear it more often.” You replied, and it almost sounded like you were flirting.

“I’d appreciate that. And I think so would everyone who gets to see you that day.” He said in response. You laughed and moved in a little more so that your knees were touching. Once you finished up your ice cream, you drove back to campus and pulled up in front of Peters dorm.

“So, same time in the library tomorrow?” You asked him.

“Yep. I’ll be there.”

“Cool. Goodnight, Peter.” You said with a soft smile.

“Goodnight.” He replied, but didn’t move. He had every intention of kissing you goodnight, just without any of the courage to do so. You were looking at him expectingly, almost like you knew what he was thinking about. Peter leaned in a little, then opened the car door and got out. You waved to him before pulling off and hoped he couldn’t tell you were disappointed.

Your disappointment didn’t last long as you still got to see Peter the next day. You walked into the library and found him sitting at your usually table. As soon as Peter saw you, he noticed you were wearing the black skirt he had just revealed he liked on you.

“Nice skirt.” He smirked as you sat down.

“This old thing?” You asked innocently. He had been worried you were upset with him for not kissing you last night since you didn’t text him like you usually did after hanging out. But seeing you wear the skirt he told you he liked put him at ease.

“Here. I graded your practice test.” He said and handed you a practice test he had given you earlier in the week.

“Holy shit. I really got an 89?” You asked him with a surprised smile.

“You did.” He said proudly. “I told you, once you get the hang of covalent bonds, they get a lot easier to do. The only part that’s still tripping you up is the acids and bases section. But I made you a new study guide that should help you get it down before the test next week. So don’t worry. I’ll get you up to a 90.”

“Peter, I was pulling 60s and 70s before I met you. I’m not worried at all. You’re a seriously great tutor. I can’t thank you enough.” You smiled and put your hand over his. Peter gulped and looked down at your hands before snapping out of it to play it cool.

“I’m only a good tutor because you’re a good student. You obviously want to do well and try your hardest. Sometimes it just takes someone explaining something in a different way.”

“Well no one’s ever taken the time to explain it to me like this. So I appreciate you.” You said and squeezed his hand. Peter felt his face warm up and knew you could tell.

“Well, you’re very welcome.” He said and put his hand over yours. You took this as a challenge and put your other hand on top of his, but he just did the same. You moved your thumb and rested it on top of his hand before giving him a look. Peter just put his thumb on top of yours and you had no moves left.

“You win.” You chuckled and pulled your hands away. Peter did too and felt his blush spread all the way to the tips of his ears. You cleared your throat suddenly and looked at him.

“So, uh, I was thinking.” You began and Peter could sense that you were nervous.

“About what?”

“Maybe instead of doing work tomorrow, we can get food instead.”

“Okay.” Peter shrugged. “Sure.”

“Like a date.” You added, making Peter raise his eyebrows.

“Oh?”

“If that’s okay.” You quickly added.

“You know, I really don’t like going on dates with pretty girls. It’s just a thing of mine.” Peter replied, making you smile.

“Oh no. How unfortunate for me.”

“I know, I know. That’s what all the girls say.” Peter sighed. “But lucky for you, I’m willing to make an exception. Just this once.”

“You’re cute.” You chuckled and Peter felt his face heat up.

“I aim to please.”

“You do.” You told him, making his blush deeper.

“I’m glad you asked me because I’ve been wanting to ask you on a date since we met but I’m kinda a shy guy.” Peter admitted.

“Lucky for you, I always play as Shy Guy in Mario Kart.” You flirted. Peter grinned at the flirtation but it quickly faded when he realized something.

“Wait, you can’t play as Shy Guy in Mario Kart. He just throws cannonballs at you while you race.”

“Clearly you haven’t played any of the games past Mario Kart 7 because I literally play as him all the time.” You said with a playful scoff.

Before Peter could answer, you heard a wolf whistle as the library door opened. You looked over your shoulder and saw Flash Thompson and Harry Osborn looking at you with shit-eating grins. You quickly turned around and Peter watched your eyes fill with panic.

“Uh oh. Looks like Y/n has a new study buddy.” Harry said loudly, earning looks from other students in the library.

“Please, no.” You groaned and started to pack up your books.

“Do you know those guys?” Peter whispered to you.

“Oh, shit.” Flash laughed obnoxiously. “You’re with this guy again? Brad said he saw you with some dork but I didn’t believe it. Since when do you do repeats? I thought you liked to hit it and quit it.”

“Hey Y/n, I could tutor you too if you have some free time. We can talk about payment later.” Harry said and nudged Flash.

“We all know her favorite way to pay.” Flash added, making them both crack up laughing. You rolled your eyes and picked up your bag, prompting Peter do do the same.

“Aw, you’re leaving? I was just gonna offer that Flash and I tutor you together. Have you ever had two guys tutor you at once?” Harry asked and burst out laughing again. The librarian harshly shushed them but they didn’t stop.

“I bet she has. I bet she does that all the time.” Flash said and you and Peter walked towards the library door. You froze when you heard this and sucked in a sharp breath.

“I’ll be right back.” You smiled tightly at Peter before walking over to Flash and Harry.

“Yes?” Harry said innocently.

“That’s enough.” You stated. “You need to stop.”

“Why? You don’t want lover boy finding out what a whore you are? He probably already knows. Everyone knows.” Harry said and narrowed his eyes at you.

“Because you and your moronic teammates spread lies about me.” You replied.

“The only one spreading anything is you.” Flash stated.

“Yeah. Your legs.” Harry added.

“Yeah, I got that, dipshit.“ You scoffed, making Harry gulp in embarrassment.

“Whatever.” Harry scoffed. “Who cares what you say? You’re just a stupid slut.”

You felt tears threaten to spill over your eyes when he used that word. It was the brick they always threw at you, but it hurt just the same every time. You felt dirty every time they called you that and no amount of telling yourself it wasn’t true made you feel clean. Every time one of those stupid boys called you a slut, you felt like they were erasing your name and pinning a scarlet letter in its place. It enveloped you and pushed you out of yourself so all you had ever done and all you’d ever be was a slut.

“Hey, are you guys really offering your tutoring services?” Peter asked as he appeared at your side. You blinked a few times in surprise and looked over at Peter. Harry and Flash exchanged a look before looking back at Peter.

“We might be.” Harry snorted and gave Flash a look.

“That’s really cool. I didn’t know the school let students on academic probation tutor others.” Peter said with such genuine enthusiasm you had you laugh.

“Excuse me?” Flash asked and stepped up to Peter.

“Oh, I just thought you weren’t allowed to play until you got your gpa above a 2.5?” Peter asked and tilted his head to the side. You smiled in surprise as you watched a Peter fight back with a weapon you never thought to use: passive aggression.

“What did you just say to me?” Harry asked and pushed Peter back a little. Before it could escalate, the librarian stepped between you.

“Boys. Out. Now. Don’t make me tell your coach.” The librarian said and pointed towards the door. Harry and Flash shot you a look but knew there was nothing more they could do.

“Whatever. Freaks.” Flash mumbled and headed towards the door. Harry went with him and bumped your shoulder.

“Slut.” He mumbled in your ear.

“Premature balding.” You whispered back. Harry looked genuinely offended and touched the back of his head.

“Uh uh. I meant the hairline.” You told him a before taking Peters arm and leaving the library. You walked far away from the library and ended up on a bench far away from any other students.

“Sorry about that.” You said as the two of you sat down.

“It’s okay. I’m honestly surprised those guys even knew where the library was.” Peter replied. You laughed, but Peter could tell you were deeply hurt over what had happened.

“They’re not true, you know.” You said quietly. Peter looked at you but you were staring at your fingers as you picked at your nail polish to seem busy.

“What isn’t?”

“All those things people say about me. Its not true. I’m not all bad like my reputation.” You said and finally looked at him.

“I never believed it. I like to see things for myself.” Peter told you, making you smile softly.

“So do I.”

“I’ve liked what I’ve seen so far.” Peter added, causing your smile to grow. You looked into his eyes for a moment, then leaned in and kissed him. Once Peters initial shock wore off, he cupped your face and kissed you back. The moment was hidden from the rest of the world and only existed between the two of you. For the first time in a long time, you felt like a slate wiped clean. More importantly, you felt like you again. You pulled out of the kiss after a minute and exchanged shy smiles.

“So have I.” You told him.

“What?” He asked.

“Oh, sorry. I was referring to what you said before. You said you liked what you’ve seen so far. And so have I.”

“Ohhhh. I honestly totally forgot about that. My mind went completely blank during the kiss. It was like that memory wipe thing in Men in Black.” Peter said quickly and realized he was rambling. You laughed and his awkwardness and rested your head on his shoulder.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I’d hate if I make things worse for you by being seen together.” Peter admitted. You knew he was right and that it would be bad for your brand to be seen with a boy, but in that moment, you didn’t care what anyone had to say about you. Despite the fact that anyone in the school would say otherwise, you had just been kissed for the first time. Nothing was gonna ruin the moment for you.

“Don’t worry about it.” You told him. “I’ll pay the price. You won’t.”

Tag List 💋

@breadglasses @hollandweather @cashtons-wife @scenesofobx

@trumanbluee @classygladiatortidalwave @miwagila @sarcasm-and-stiles

@hitoshislut @misspascalpunk @buckylovinglokivariant @betzabobababi

@eterjas @pleasingregulus @avatarjuno @dreamingofts18 @diorrgrl

@anarchistsons

@crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @erule @justsomebodyweird @un06

@tom-hollands-wifey @alltoogay @bellajg21

@madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

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luveline · 7 months

Note

hi sweetie !!! I know you get a billion requests but if u have time maybe an eddie fluff with the reader trying to get out of a postpartum depression slump and hes taking care of her :3 as always no pressure ily!

hi lovely ily, ty for requesting ♡ 1.2k

cw reader has postpartum depression

"Aw, sweetheart," Eddie mumbles.

You hear it through your tired haze, rubbing sleep from your eyes as your turn toward him and his shuffling. He's unexpectedly on the bedroom floor, the baby laid out on a changing matt. Your lips quirk into a smile as you watch him button a fresh baby grow closed around your son's tiny tummy.

"You're so well behaved," Eddie continues, still mumbling, hand careful as it slides behind the baby's head. "There we go. Fresh as a daisy."

You clear your throat and stretch against a cruel knot hiding between shoulder blades. "You okay?" you ask.

Eddie looks at you like you've just asked him to marry you, love lining every feature. "I'm okay, are you okay? You were frowning in your sleep. Bad dreams?"

"I can't remember." You try not to lose your small smile as you hold out your hands for the baby.

You love your baby. That's not up for debate. But whenever you hold him, you feel like you should be happier. That turns to guilt, self-loathing —this has all been so hard. You knew it would be, but it doesn't matter how prepared you are. This is brain chemistry you can't fight.

Eddie sits on the side of the bed and passes the baby to you carefully. You're relieved to find you missed him, tucking him with love against your chest. "Hi, beautiful. Hi."

He's still so small, shiny with newness, his lips parted to show the pink of his tongue. You laugh under your breath, brushing the side of your hand along his cheek.

"Did you, um… did you put the ointment on his rash?" you ask, leaning down to kiss the baby's forehead. "On his tummy?"

"Yeah, I did."

You nod and kiss the baby's head again quickly. "Okay, perfect. Will you take him back? Just so I can get up?"

You have to start the day to avoid falling hard into the slump. Eddie takes him with no qualms. You worry he's held more by his father than you, and there's nothing wrong with that, but he's your baby, you just spent nine months baking him, nine whole months waiting for these moments.

Eddie hugs the baby to his chest and pulls the sheets over both of them. He looks better kept than you even though he's been picking up your slack without complaint, hair clean and out of his face, fresh clothes to match the baby, a black Iron Maiden t-shirt unmarred by spit up and a pair of pyjamas pants you're pretty sure were yours once upon a time. They don't fit him right and he clearly doesn't care. He's good like that; he's obsessed with being close to you.

Your depression postpartum has wedged him away. Not his fault, not yours, and not fair. You're gonna have to try as hard as you can to beat it, and hope against hope that it's enough.

"I set some clothes out for you," Eddie says gently, stroking the baby's hair. "And a towel if you want to shower, but you don't need to. You should be okay until tonight."

"You didn't have to," you say. Your throat feels peculiarly tight.

"Yeah, I did. I know it's overwhelming in the morning for you. I thought the clothes would be one less thing."

You nod hurriedly and turn away from him to change. You can feel his gaze as you step out of your pyjamas and into new sweatpants, the weight of his concern palpable. It's easier to talk about things when you aren't looking at them both, so you say, "I'm sorry you're doing all of this."

"That's okay, it's not something you need to be sorry for."

"No, because it's not fair. You're looking after two people."

"That's what I signed up for. It's literally my job." You seize at the sound of the baby gurgling and whimpering, but Eddie pats his back, and the grizzling fades. "Sweetheart… would you come over here? Let me tell you to your face."

That doesn't exactly inspire confidence, but you pull on the clean shirt Eddie's left on the dresser for you and sit with him as he asked. Only when he smiles at your chest do you realise it's the stupid gimmick shirt he got for you on your first anniversary. My boyfriend loves me more than yours does, it reads, big black font with a red heart behind boyfriend.

Eddie holds out his hand, squeezing your fingers together slowly, as though he's collected them in his palm. His thumb rubs a dedicated line over your knuckles; you're surprised your skin doesn't show evidence of his touch, he strokes this path so often.

"I'm not sorry that I've been taking care of you since he was born, and you shouldn't be either." He says it straight and fast, no hesitation, and no room for argument. "Understand? This isn't about me. This is about how you feel."

"Don't be all serious with me," you plead in a murmur, eyes at his collar.

"If you don't want me to be serious then I won't be. Regular viewing henceforth. But don't forget what I just said. Promise?"

"Yeah, promise." You reach out to twist the baby's hair around your fingertip, smiling when he shivers, tickled by your touch. He's a beautiful kid. Your partner stamped him well. All your awful feelings aren't anything to do with him, though his birth was undoubtedly the tipping point. He hasn't done anything wrong, this fog of melancholy hangs around no matter how beautiful he is, and you can't help hating yourself for the way you feel. "He's perfect," you whisper, eyes aching with the want to cry.

"You did a great job," Eddie says agreeably, pushing his fingers between yours to intertwine your hands.

"Do you think he knows I really do love him?" You can barely hear yourself. It's a miracle that Eddie can respond.

"Undeniably. Sweetheart, I know there have been days where you didn't hold him, and that's not good for either of you, I can't lie to you and tell you it doesn't affect him, but it's not your fault. It just isn't. You're gonna keep trying and I'm gonna keep making sure you can, and things will get better. I swear to you."

You feel as though you'd happily fall into a pit, but with Eddie sworn to take care of you, and the world's prettiest baby in his arms, you force yourself to sit beside him in bed. It's easy to soak in the heat of him as he wraps and arm around you, and easier to take the baby from his arms when the crying begins.

"Don't feel guilty, but he misses you," Eddie says, covering your hand where it holds the baby's back. "He's happy to see you, look."

The baby looks like a baby. It's hard to say that he's smiling, but there is something there. Love in his little eyes. You manage to smile for real this time, toying with his tiny hand, swiftly on your way to joyous as he wraps his fingers around your index.

"You're doing so well," Eddie praises, his hair brushing your ear as he ducks in to kiss your cheek.

"I think I'm feeling a bit better."

"Good. One step closer to taking over the world."

Eddie climbs out of bed with a mission to gather your meds and a quick breakfast. You stay in bed with the baby, holding him. Eddie's made it so that it's the only thing you have to do.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 2 months

Text

Co-Stars pt.4

Summary: Y/n post something interesting...

Warning: Sexism/ use of Y/n/ Swearing/

A/n: > Means Y/n's replies

Word count: 890 words

@Official_Y/n

@Official_Y/n: Guess who?

Liked by 78 345

Comments:

@User5710: Mother posting!!!!

@Y/n_fan214: Soft lauch?!

@TimotheChalamet: Ew, there's children on this app. > Okay🙂

@Austin_Butler: 🫣 > Sush Elvis

@User9261: Did she just shushed Austin Butler? > She did 💅

@Dua_Lipa: That back tho! 🫨 > 🏋‍♀️💪💅

After her post, the Internet was like the volcano that flooded Pompei with lava: Smoking hot. Everyone was talking about the guy in the picture and how intimate they looked. Of course, everyone thought about Callum, and they were right, but they didn’t know it. So, when Y/n, Austin, Anthony and Callum went on the Graham Norton show, they were expecting questions about it.

‘’So, Y/n obviously you got a lot of attention this week, because of this’’ Her post appears on the screen. Anthony starts to chuckle. ‘’I know, my back looks great’’ she says, avoiding the question. ‘’You look amazing, but the real question is: Who is the gentleman in the two pictures?’’ Two red arrows pointing at the men in the pictures appears on the screen. ‘’I can’t see him, maybe point it to me’’ she says, sarcastically of course. The publics starts to laugh. ‘’I mean there’s a gentleman in my life, I won’t say who, but yeah. Thought I’d tease the internet a little’’ she says, crossing her legs. ‘’Boys do you know who he is?’’ Graham asked the 3 men. ‘’Yeah, I met him, he’s really nice’’ Anthony says. ‘’He’s amazing, he takes care of my best friend, and that’s all that counts’’ Callum says. Y/n has to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent her from laughing. Hearing Callum talk about himself at the 3rd person almost makes her laugh and blow away the surprise. ‘’Like they said, he’s a really nice guy. Really fun too, we had some great conversations with him. Awesome guy’’ Austin adds. ‘’But what about Callum?’’ Graham asks. ‘’What about him?’’ Y/n asks. ‘’W-w-well you guys. T-t-the internet ships you together!’’ he stutters. Y/n direct answer took him by surprise. ‘’We also have a video of Callum and a mystery lady, let’s take a look’’ What video? Shit?! It showed a video of Callum making out with Y/n, but we couldn’t see her face, it was badly filmed because the only action we could see was between the crack of the door. Y/n tried not to react, and she was hoping that Callum would improvise something. ‘’Graham, I’m sorry, but we’re here to promote our show, Master of the Air, not trying to get to the bottom of the rumors of who’s Y/n dating and Callum’s privacy being invaded’’ Austin said, as calmly as possible. ‘’Austin’s right, plus we have great things to talk about other than Y/n’s dating life.’’ Anthony added the woman smiled to the blonde, who just saved their life. ‘’You’re right, I’m sorry, so Anthony…’’ Graham didn’t talk about relationships that night. When the interview was over and they got backstage, Y/n hugged Austin. ‘’Thank you so freaking much’’ she said. ‘’Thank you, Austin, I really appreciate it’’ Callum said. ‘’Don’t worry we got you’’ Anthony said.

After Austin and Anthony’s intervention, the people calmed down on the question, but the internet could still see their chemistry. Callum and Y/n still liked to tease the internet, but they calmed down too. Until the premier in the U.S.A, they kissed at the final premiere, in London. The one in the United-States was the before last premiere they all did. Y/n came on the carpet with a very reviling designer piece that the fans started to speculate.

She didn’t want to come on the carpet dressed like this, but the designer put a lot of effort into the piece, so she wore it. But she already had a team ready inside the movie theater to change her outfit. When she stepped out the car, she felt very vulnerable, she arrived alone this time, she was already gonna get attention for her outfit, she didn’t more publicity. She walked on the red carpet, until she reached her co-stars. ‘’Y/n here! Show us your tits!’’ a male fan yelled, making her very uncomfortable. Callum, who had seen the scene, felt really bad for his girlfriend. He wanted to help her, but if he gave her his jacket, the rumors would just be unbearable, they like to tease the internet, but not like that. ‘’Austin, can you go give your jacket to Y/n, she’s really uncomfortable’’ he whispered. He nodded than went forward, to give Y/n his jacket. ‘’With your boyfriends’ compliments’’ he said, not wanting to be suspicious. She put the jacket on and continued her way on the carpet. They finally did a group photo, after they could go inside, and Y/n could change. ‘’Come on Y/n, you’re not afraid to be shirtless on Instagram! We want to see the tits!’’ another male fan yelled. The guys were all in shook of what they just heard. But Y/n took all the confidence she had left and stepped forward. ‘’Maybe ask politely’’ she gave the men a fake smile before showing him her middle finger. The flash of the camera doubled; she was certainly going to get attention now. But what she didn’t realise was that the hole cast was flipping the guy off. Callum was the first to follow is girlfriend in giving the middle finger, the rest just followed.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t her outfit that made the front page, it was the picture of the cast giving the finger to the sexist fan. They didn’t talk about the fact that it was disrespectful, they talked about the fact that men were supporting woman and how it should always be like this. The cast of Master of the Air were now icons in the feminist movement. All thanks to Callum…

#callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #callum turner #co star #master of the air #austin butler #anthony boyle

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dailyreverie · 1 year

Note

Sleepy prompt 13 with bucky please <3

Hi there!! Thanks for requesting 🥰 I lost track of how many tropes are in here (bed sharing, idiots in love, mutual pining, fake couple, just to mention some) so... yeah... I hope you like it!

13. “For someone who claims to not be a cuddler, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself all night.”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (no pronouns, reader is called doll)

Word count: 617

For being your first night of the undercover mission, you really couldn’t complain about your sleep. You expected endless tossing, not being able to catch a single minute of sleep, when, in reality, the second your head hit the pillow you were out. You even had the privilege to oversleep, only waking up when your stomach growled at the first hint of the smell of food being prepared.

The scent of coffee guided you through the apartment, tumbling in your step still in the process of waking up, until you found Bucky in the kitchen preparing two mugs. You watched him from the kitchen island, his back to you as he poured milk into the mugs. Bucky, your brand new husband according to the mission files, with whom you recently moved into your newlywed apartment in the same complex where, apparently, a bunch of ex-hydra people lived.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He said elongating the word, all serious as he is, just toying with the new term on his lips. If he liked it, you couldn’t tell.

“Morning, babe.” You did the same, your voice still raspy from the lack of use making you cringe a little, and when it made his heart skip a beat he knew it: it was over for him.

It was obvious why it would be you and him playing the undercover couple, if anyone bantered like one already married for ages that would be Bucky and you; you got each other, simple as that. The chemistry was almost palpable, and Sam could swear he saw him smile every time you entered the room.

“Slept well?” He joked at the sight of you, hair in a bun pushed sideways and your head resting on your hand.

“I did,” You stretch your arms, sleep still making them a bit numb. “I’m guessing you did too because, y’know, for someone who claims not to be a cuddler, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself all night.” Bucky rolls his eyes and glares at you, but the smirk on his lips gives him away; he can’t be mad at you, not even with your endless teasing. Right, that’s why you slept so well. “Is it going to be a regular thing? A heads-up would have been nice.” You match his discreet smile, one he’s trying and failing to hide behind his mug.

“Don’t you dare cuddle me, Barnes.” You said last night when tucking into the only bed available. “Or you’ll fall in love.”

“In your dreams, doll.” …oh little did you know.

“Ha ha ha,” Bucky mocks, the smile growing on his face. “Well, what can I say, doll? You were the one who got closer to me first. What else could I do?” When he hands you your coffee and leans over the counter, ending face to face with you, you are faced with the penetrating blue of his eyes, tired and sleepy still as were yours.

“You could have pushed me away.” You speak after a sip of coffee, the mug still covering half your face trying to avoid him discovering the crippling red color that was expanding over your face and neck. “Act all macho husband and claim your space.”

“Push you away?” He bit his cheek and visibly swallowed his words as he thought of what to say without giving himself away, only looking at you in hopes you would somehow read his mind. “Never.”

You shared a smile as you both had another sip of coffee, his eyes still piercing yours as you both fell into a comfortable, homey silence. The mission was forgotten for a while, because hydra or not hydra, you didn’t mind this new morning routine of yours.

🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨🦾✨

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #boyfriend!bucky #bucky barnes #soft bucky #bucky blurb #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #soft!bucky

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demonpiratehuntress · 3 months

Note

Hii this might be an odd request. Feel free to ignore this if you don't like to write.

You know, straw hats have doctor, cook, swardsman, navigator,... Can you add another one who do mathematical, physics and chemistry stuff? If you can please make her a female.

She is not a genius. More like an average person. But she tries so hard. Sometime get lazy and unproductive too.

And if you can please make it a Ace x reader fic.

Thank you.

sure thing! :) it's not very long, because I don't know what else they can do in terms of those things, but i hope you still enjoy it! sorry for the wait!

taglist - @kabloswrld

someone's gotta do it

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader

summary - the ask above

warnings - none

The Straw Hat crew wasn't very big, but it was certainly diverse. You guys had everything ranging from a navigator to a musician, so there were a lot of areas of expertise that were covered. All except for three, you supposed, which was constantly the downfall of the crew in certain situations.

A mathematician was needed, a chemist was needed and a physicist was needed.

You weren't exactly an expert in any of those areas, but you were doing your best to try and make up for those losses. You were doing your best to fill in those roles where absolutely necessary, so it wouldn't cost the crew as much anymore.

You had lots of duties to fill in these areas. You studied the log pose to determine exactly how it worked, marveling at the discovery of geomagnetism and excitedly explaining to the crew how it worked. This helped to better understand navigation in the Grand Line, and you felt useful providing that knowledge.

These duties also included setting a budget for the crew's spending on groceries and necessities, as you had to add up and subtract things you needed and things you didn't. Sometimes it was a hassle, because Luffy kept trying to add things that you absolutely did not need or even want.

"But it looks cool!"

"Luffy! Do you know how far that'll set us back in terms of berries!" You cried in exasperation, knocking your captain on the head. Oh no, you were starting to sound like Nami.

Speaking of Nami, you could also help her with her charts and her navigation. With mathematics, you could assist in charting courses that you've been on, and calculate the exact speed and distance the Sunny would require to get to certain places or away from danger. It was quite useful for that, as you could also determine how long it would take to get to a certain destination. Well, to the best of your ability seeing as this was the Grand Line after all.

"She's new."

An unfamiliar voice met your ears when you stepped out of your room to find the others out on deck, surrounding an unfamiliar man. He looked a bit like Luffy, but with freckles on his cheeks and a cowboy hat on his head.

That and he was shirtless.

You tried your hardest not to stare, blushing madly as you immediately thought that this was a really attractive man. You didn't know who he was, but you were attracted to him.

"Our mathem-mathe-maps?" Luffy tried, unable to pronounce the word.

You giggled and stepped forward, holding out your hand, "I'm (Name), the newest member. I do all the mathematics, physics and chemistry around here. Or, at least, I try my best."

The man grinned and shook your hand, "Nice to meet you! I'm Ace, Luffy's brother."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, "Luffy's...brother?!"

Ace didn't seem offended, instead he laughed at your reaction, "Yeah, we get that a lot." He got Luffy in a headlock and ruffled his hair. "It's always hard to believe this little idiot is my younger brother, since I'm so charming and intelligent."

You giggled at his words, then even more so when the crew all disagreed with the second trait he mentioned.

Ace stuck around for a few days, wanting to spend some time with his little brother now that Luffy was a bigshot pirate with a big bounty and a special crew. But instead of hanging at his brother's side, Ace was curious about you. He thought you were cute, so he tried to spend some time around you, and you fell victim to his charms and his flirting.

"So, whatcha working on?" The commander grinned, leaning against your desk as you wrote down a few formulas for different chemicals.

"Hmm?" You glanced up, then blushed and quickly looked down. "Oh, nothing. I was just trying to find out how different chemicals and substances react with each other, in case we ever come across some weird devil fruit power or a chemical environment."

"And? Anything interesting?" He prompted, still smiling.

You sighed and shook your head, "Nothing useful. I'm kind of getting bored and I don't really want to read more."

He laughed then, standing up straight and holding out his hand, "Then come with me. And you can tell me about navigation using the stars."

You blushed again but accepted his offer, taking his hand and following him out. The two of you lay on the grass and stared at the sky, as you explained how sailors could locate the positions of islands or navigate where they needed to go using certain constellations and stars. He listened intently, not usually interested in this stuff but eager to hear you talk. He liked your voice, and he thought it was refreshing to see someone talking animatedly about something other than treasure or the One Piece.

"That's interesting," he spoke when you were done, "My brother's lucky to have someone so smart on his crew."

"Oh I'm not that smart," you turned red and shook your head, "I just try, that's all. Most of the time I don't even do anything and I just lay and watch the sky. It's hard to be motivated sometimes."

He studied your face as you said this, then grinned again, "Well, everyone gets lazy and unproductive sometimes. The good thing is that you're trying."

His words reassured you, and you smiled at the thought that he was impressed by you. You glanced at him quickly, then looked back at the sky and felt your heartbeat quicken.

"Someone's gotta do it."

He laughed at that, and turned to face you, "I like you. You're a refreshing change of pace in the world of pirates. No one usually cares about what you do, so it's nice to see you care."

Your cheeks warmed up at that, "I just don't want it impacting my crew, that's all. Sometimes we get let down by not knowing this stuff. I just want to protect my crew from that."

"A noble cause," he agreed.

You snorted, "Since when is anything pirates do noble?"

And the two of you laughed and joked around there under the star-filled sky, and suddenly you didn't feel so ridiculous about wanting to specialise in those topics that pirates generally never used.

Maybe you could also do it for you.

a/n - so, um, i dont even know if i got this right so im SO sorry if i didn't! i wasn't really sure how to go about it, so im really really sorry if it's disappointing. i tried, though!

#one piece #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #ace x reader #ace x you #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d ace x you

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simplymarr · 28 days

Text

Chapter one.

summary: vincent renzi x fem!reader.

A young law student is navigating her last year in university, where she meets a misteryous french professor that is going to help her getting her thesis done. A strong chemistry and a love for books and hard work it's what gets them to work so well with each other. But how much are they going to resist when temptation arrives?

warnings: age gap (legal ofc) he's 43 and she's 26. Other that that, none (yet).

London. 8 am and a room full of people on a rainy day. Cold fingers on the desk, waiting for something to happen.

I looked over and the clock was still; maybe it was broken or maybe the time was way too slow in the morning. Even for me.

Today it was the last-first day i was going to have on that university. Five long years studying law, yet it felt like i was still a stranger in that big, cold classroom.

I was, finally, going to get my thesis done. No more wasting time, no more fear. I had to be strong.

How difficult could it be?

The world with its unique, hidden irony seemed to have answered my question when, all of a sudden, he walked through that old, wooden door.

Mature, maybe in his early forties. Tall but not too much; quite skinny. Long neck and serious countenance. Silver hair, some strands fell on his forehead as he walked across the room until he reached his desk. His polished clothes didn't look wet even though it was raining, and even for me to be so far away from him i could, somehow, sense that he smelled like cigarrettes and old fashioned, classic cologne.

Professor Vincent Renzi was his name.

He came from France. He said that he had recently won a case in the city, and that a colleague of his needed him to replace him for a few months at the university. A two-hour weekly class and, most importantly,

he was in charge of correcting some of the theses.

I hesitated the rest of the class, unsure of what was going to happen. Would he be easy on me? or would he be an idiot? After all, all male professors in law school seemed to treat women like they were not smart enough to be there. Or worse, like they fucked their way to the top.

Suddenly my feet stepped on earth again when i felt a deep voice making, in a strong french accent, a question that no one dared to answer.

"So, has anyone already started working on their thesis?"

Silence.

Then, for inertia or maybe an obscure, unconscious desire to be seen by his blue eyes i raised my hand.

He smiled at me; perhaps relieved that he hadn't been ignored. Little wrinkles formed on each side of his mouth as he spoke:

"Great, at least someone is doing their job. Now, enlighten me, please".

........................................

I tried to leave as soon as the class ended.

Maybe it was the shame, the blushed cheeks as i explained to him the central themes of the thesis. For the first time, i felt like my tongue wasn't mine as the words kept coming out of my mouth, but i felt grateful for that.

However, due to how far away i was from the exit, i was the last one to leave. I slid between each seat until i reached the door where, luckily for me, he was standing, waiting.

"That was good. Very good actually". He said as he reached out for a pack of cigarettes between his pockets.

I stuttered.

"Well, thank you. There's still some issues i need to fix, you know. References and stuff". I tried, without luck, to sound as calm as possible.

"That's why im here". He said, staid but in a soft tone.

As he left the building and got into his car, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and lighting a cigarette, i couldn't help but wonder

what the hell was i getting into.

next chapter soon

#vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi #swann arlaud #swann arlaud fanfic #anatomy of a fall

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phantoms-world-and-more · 1 year

Note

I've seen many posts where Jason dates Jazz and realizes there's something wrong with Danny, but what if it's the other way around?

Danny has been ghosting for a while longer, so he knows better how to hide the effects, Jazz who only recently realized he's liminal doesn't do so well.

Then Jason arrives, he met this cute and nice guy who is totally sarcastic but also always willing to help him with a problem, then he meets his sister, who has something strange about her, sometimes her smiles are too big or her shadow moves unnaturally, makes bad love decisions and wants to be a psychologist, cue Jason thinking that Jazz is the second coming of Harley Quinn but more Eldritch

This is amazing!!!

This is kind of an old one because i was away for a while, but thanks for the ask

Jason had made a new friend (boyfriend if he's lucky)

They met when red hood was on patrol and was going to stop a SA in progress when this lanky bruce adoptee to be stepped in and handed the scumbag his ass on a silver platter

After the kid took care of the girl, called the police and sent them on their way he stayed, turned to where he was perched, smiled and said

"What? Couldn't just do nothing."

Turned and left, leaving jason dumbfounded that this kid could see him, beating up an unexperienced scumbag was one thing finding a highly trained vigilante was something else, looks like this kid is interesting.

Turns out the kids name is danny and he is awesome!

He's 19, just moved to gothem from some no where town and was studying aerospace engineering, linguistics and chemistry in gothem university.

His mother was a blackbelt and tought him how to put the fear of God in people 6 ways to sunday, he also has a sister whos an arkam asylum phyciatritrist intern

Danny is cool, knowes how to take a joke and can dish it right back out, was goofy and playful compared to the usual seriousness of of the bats, AND HE WAS SASSY

The colourful way he broke down the batfams characters had him cry laughing

When he met Danny in red hood persona he was mostly the same, though jason nearly had a heart attack when danny called him jason in red hood gear, but dannys cool and easy to talk to, they spent the rest of patrol together

Batman showed up wondering why red hood wasn't responding and red hood thought he had to defend danny from the interrogation that was to come...NOPE

The first words out of danny's mouth was

"I've never met a furrie in person, is it difficult to breath wearing the suit"

By the end of the 'conversation' Red hood couldn't move he was laughing so hard oh he couldn't wait to meet his fanily

Nevermind somethings wrong with jazz

When he met her nothing was wrong per'se but...

she seems nice but her smiles are too wide, too pointy, she moves too stiff and theres something just...off

She made the pit squirm in...not fear or discomfort, more like, she made the pit more agitated, annoyed, angry...thats...never happened before

Then he found out she was having love problems...the last guy she dated ended up in a cutl and was trying to get her to join, and the way she talk about phycology was too...disconnected

Somethings wrong with her

About 2 hours later jason came speeding into the batcave screaming about the next generation of Harley Quin

#danny phantom #fic prompt #daily prompt #danny fenton #dc x dp #dp x dc #funny #batman #dc #jazz fenton #jason todd #jasons going to loose his mind #danny and jason #liminal jazz #ghost danny is more skilled #jazz scares jason #harly quinn 2.0 in the making #batman WILL be paranoid #bruce it trying to thank danny for stopping the next

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literaila · 8 months

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verity what would you think about writing another peter x reader in which peter becomes a photographer and has to take pictures of reader and he develops a thing for her and he thinks that reader just flirts with him for fun and he's totally okay with that because he's a fool for her but after teasing peter and messing with him for a good amount of time she asks him out ? maybe inspired by "suck it and see" by arctic monkeys? thank you !!

chemistry

tasm!peter x fem!reader

a/n: the science jokes are real with this one

peter needed to get over himself. that much was clear.

honestly, he had the ability to rip out his eyes and throw them down the garbage disposal, and it was becoming increasingly obvious that he might have to. just to get some sanity back.

it wasn’t really his fault he was staring at you. no, it wasn’t his fault at all.

he was getting paid to stare at you. you had hired him to do this. to take pictures of you when you looked like this—partially glowing from the light, wearing a devious smile like you might be trying to crack his lens—and not get called a pervert for it.

his movements were automatic now. he’d done this enough—admired strangers and tried to pull the best out of them—but it was never quite like this. with every click of a button, and the perfectly adjusted flash, peter felt himself getting a bit hazy.

it would be his luck to faint while taking pictures of a pretty girl.

a pretty girl who’s head was tilted at him, eyes questioning, because she’d just said something and he was too busy scolding himself to notice

get yourself together.

“hmm?” peter asked, moving a step closer to you. “sorry i missed it.”

you smile like he’s said something funny. “should i try something else?” you say, “i’m not used to posing.”

“you’re doing great. you’re a natural.”

maybe a little too great. you blink at him, eyes darting away and sigh. even then, if peter took a photo, he’s sure it would come out perfectly. he probably wouldn’t need to edit any of these, even.

but he also probably would. just to stare at you some more.

“well, you’re the expert.”

but peter frowns. “are you feeling uncomfortable?”

“just—“ you shake your head. “will you tell me a joke, or something? i feel… awkward. i have no idea what i’m doing.”

“tell you a joke?” peter repeats, slightly amused.

“or just talk to me. anything.”

“sure,” he says, easily, nodding his head a bit too much. maybe it’s because you sort of whispered it, and peter sort of felt it on every single on of his nerve endings. “i, um,” he raises his brows. “i think i just forgot every joke i’ve ever heard.”

you laugh with your head tilted back and he snaps a shot. “just tell me about you, then.”

“me?”

“yes, peter parker, the photographer… and? part time comedian? full time alcoholic? father of six?”

peter frowns. “how old do you think i am?“

“old enough to be a professional photographer.”

“i don’t know if i would call myself a professional…” he winces, smiling a bit and feeling embarrassed for himself. flushed and completely ashamed because he’s usually better at this.

he can calm a clients nerves in five minutes. he can make people laugh and get the candid shot that he knows they’re looking for. he can turn an awkward social interaction into getting drinks after a shoot.

but there’s something about you and your smile, and the easy way you talk, like the words just fall out of your mouth and into place.

“i saw your prints,” you correct, shaking your head at him, “why do you think i hired you?”

“free eye candy?”

and then you actually laugh, chest releasing, and peter watches as your eyes squint at him like you’ve finally realized who you’re talking to.

it’s second nature when he presses the button.

“oh, yeah. i just googled ‘hottest male photographer in queens’ and yours was the first that came up.”

“i knew that ad would pay off eventually.”

“really, though. i’ve only got you for another twenty minutes so you’ve gotta tell me something good.”

peter frowns and moves to your left, changing the zoom on his camera and dimming the light. “i didn’t know you were paying for a gossip session.”

“okay, so you don’t like to talk about yourself. what else?”

he catches you as you adjust your hair, the light shining on the side of your face, gleaming off of you like something out of a sci-fi film.

peter shakes his head—his head is feeling a bit off. “um… i want to get a cat.”

you smile, completely darling and enough to knock a breath out of his chest. “i’ll add caring to the list. why haven’t you?”

“well, my apartment doesn’t really allow it…” he pauses for a moment playing with some settings. the two of you are dancing in circles, like a pendulum, when you move, he moves. “and also i’m not sure that i’d remember to feed it.”

“most animals make sure you remember. when i was a kid my dog would jump on whoever was closest when it was time for dinner.”

peter almost winces, and then catches himself. “i also think i’d poison it with my energy. it’d forget how to move its tail.”

“well, i’ve been around you for almost an hour and a half now and i can safely say that i still have control over all of my limbs.”

“good to know…” peter mutters while frowning at his screen. there’s nothing wrong with his camera, or with you, just with his hands. and his heart.

“everything okay?”

he shakes his head, then nods, clearing his throat. “yeah—yeah. i’m just messing with the settings.”

“are you getting anything good? useable?”

“they’re all good,” he says—to himself and out loud like a complete idiot. and then he looks up, awkwardly laughing. “like i said, you’re a natural.”

“even if you’re lying,” you tease, undeterred by his awkwardness, “i’m sure you’ll fix it all before i see.”

“i’m not lying, but yeah.”

when you smile, he smiles back.

“okay,” you say, moving. “what else? got any friends or family? any plans after this?”

“which question am i supposed to answer?”

“all of them, peter.”

he chuckles. “it’s mostly just me and my aunt. and a couple of long lost cousins. as for friends, i’ve kept in touch with some people from college. oh, and me and the john down the street who makes me a sandwich everyday are close.”

you lift your head, revealing the skin of your neck and jaw to peter. and a fetish he didn’t know he had. “and after this?”

“i’ll probably just go home and edit these, actually.”

“it’s friday.”

he shrugs. squinting at you before the next shot. he’s not even really looking.

“nothing fun?” you ask him. “surely you’ll be sick of my face after this.”

“that’d be hard.”

he watches a sheepish smile reveal itself on your face before it’s gone. you look away. “you’re young, peter. you should be having fun.”

“what are you doing after this?” peter asks, as a challenge.

your brows lift. “this seems like a line.”

he laughs. “not like that.”

you shrug and blink when the flash goes off. “i’ll figure out something. are there any good bars nearby?”

peter pauses, dropping his camera. “are we back to the alcoholic thing.”

“no,” you laugh, “we’re way past that. i just think that your flash is giving me a bit of an adrenaline rush. i could use a calm me down.”

“you okay?”

“i’m kidding, peter. keep going, you’re almost a free man.”

so he does.

you continue to prod him with personal questions, attacking him with your smile and your unsurprisingly sharp wit. you throw his words right back to him, and peter knows, in his deepest of thoughts, that he’s going to be hearing your voice later on.

that when he’s looking back on these pictures, he’s going to see a timeline of your allure, and of his own demise.

he’s already loving and dreading it.

he finishes up by making you laugh from your nose, loud and unprecedented, and so genuinely rewarding that peter has to refrain from clapping himself on the back.

you smile at him as you slip on your jacket, still talking to him, acting too smooth to be just polite.

peter also has to refrain himself from trying to shake your head as he walks you to the door. he tries not to stare any longer, knowing what kind of night he has in store.

“when should i be seeing the pictures?” you ask him, lingering when you finally get to the door.

“sometime next week. i’ll email you a preview with a few different editing styles that you can pick from and then i’ll finish the album.”

“email?”

he scoffs, opening the door for you. “i’ll have you know that not everyone is as young and hip as you. do you know how many grandparents want photos with their family?”

“it just doesn’t seem like you, peter. i’d thought you’d train a carrier pigeon.”

he shakes his head at you, trying to hide his smile.

“but, seriously, thank you so much,” you say to him, voice full and easy, and honest. he can feel your heart and smell your perfume. “i know i’m a lot. especially when i’m nervous.”

“i’m just glad you didn’t ask me about my social security number.”

you reflectively smack yourself on the forehead. “i knew i forgot something.”

peter laughs, letting you slip past him trying to avoid your touch. he doesn’t, and if benjamin franklin was there, he might’ve discovered a whole different type of electricity.

“i’ll talk to you soon,” peter says, and your close enough that it’s almost a whisper. “just let me know if there’s any issues with the pictures, or you have any questions. you’ve got my number.”

“i do.”

his body feels physically repelled from inside the studio, but he forces himself to take a step in anyway. “have a good weekend.”

“you too.”

and then you turn to go, and peter can’t help but stare. he hopes that the tint on the shop windows is enough to keep you from noticing.

but before he can close the door—and mind that it took him an outrageously stupid amount of time—you’re turning back around.

“wait, peter,” you say, voice breathless and jagged. like peters hands as they rush to push open the door again.

it’s embarrassing how quickly he manages to do it.

“yes?”

you smile, like you know exactly what he’s thinking. peter will have that smile branded into his brain.

“do you wanna come with me to get that drink?” you ask him, softly, and wide, with a smile that bursts blood vessels.

peter really needs to get over himself.

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st-el-la-luna · 3 months

Text

Syrupy Sweet: Nasty Baker! Soap x Reader

tumblr deleted the orgininal for whatever reason. Luckily I tracked down a reblog. Edited and added some new stuff (love tumblr for deleting my most popular post, rip my 600+ notes 😔)

NSFW 18+

Soap is forced into an early retirement. He gets a job at a small bakery. And that's where he meets you

➔ gn!afab!reader (described as having boobs & wearing a bra), creepy soap, pervy soap, obsessive soap, lust at first sight, non/dub-con cum eating, dirty thoughts, fantasizing, humping inanimate objects, coming in panta

After so many years working in the military, serving his country. Protecting the people of the world from danger. The last thing Soap expected waas tyo be discharged so suddenly and with so little warning.

Too much time working with explosives has affected his hearing. A bad knife wound, or a torn Achilles tendon. A bad break that never healed right. A couple of head injuries too many.

"An early retirement," they'd called it. Forced retirement more like it. They won't even tell him why, just that he's, "no longer fit for active duty," and that he should be grateful that they, "got him such a nice deal. That he gets to keep his pension."

He’s bitter about it, understandably, He likes his job. He’s good at it. They can’t be serious about this! His performance hasn’t been hindered.

Regardless of the reason, in spite of his arguments, Soap is benched, permanently. Price is apologetic, Ghost is... Distant, though that's to be expected. Gaz promises to keep in touch. And he does keep in touch, they all do.

But it’s ot the same. Soap still feels lonely. Bored. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or all the time he suddenly has on his hands. Doesn’t know how to operate without the adrenaline rush, without something to occupy his hands and minds. He figures that, maybe, he should get a job. A civilian job. Not one of those cushy desk jocky jobs Price had offered him out of pity, Soap wants a job far removed from the military. Really reintegrate himself into normal, civvie life.

After a bit of searching along the drizzly cobbled Glasgowian streets, Soap finds a little coffee shop and bakery nearby. A tiny, quaint little thing, run by a sweet old woman who just doesn't have the energy to keep the doors open on her own.

The place is situated on a street corner, tucked away from the busy traffic-filled streets. A soft bell jingles when the door opens. The sign is hsand painted. The place, though clearly aged, is well looked after, loved. The wood floors and counters shine; the tables and chairs, though antique, are comfortable, well made; plants hang from the ceiling; and a couple bookshelves line a wall, a leave a book take a book community library.

Soap applies for the position and despite his lack of experience, he gets the job. Something about him reminding the old woman of her own son.

At first, Soap worked there with her. Learning the ins and outs of the trade. How to make meringue and bread and macrons and creme brûlé. It's not easy, not at first, but with practice and time, he gets the hang of it.

He figures it's because of his experience with explosives and chemistry. Baking is... Kind of the same thing.

Eventually, he's left to tend to the day-to-day affairs of the bakery. The woman still writes all the recipes and makes some of the breads. But he's the one managing the front of the house.

It's where he meets you.

Sweet. Kind. Polite. Breathtaking. Irresistible. Sexy. You.

You come tumbling into the warm bakery on a day when the weather is particularly bad, even for Scotland. Strong winds, cold rains threatening to turn to hail, thunder rumbling in the distance.

You're soaked to the bone. Hair dripping. Shoes leaving puddles in your wake as each of your steps is announced by a wet squish. Your full cheeks bitten by the cold, fingertips numb, you offer him a blinding smile.

He's more focused on your tits though. And your bra. Visible through your thin, now see-through, shirt. Black lace. He can see how your chest rises and falls with each breath you take. He can even see a small mole, or maybe a birthmark, on the swell just above the cup of your bra. He wants to sink his teeth into you. Wants to suck that mark into his mouth, chew and lick at it, make it bigger. Make it his. Make you his.

He's drooling a little, he realizes absently.

"Hey," you say softly, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. Hands curled into adorable little sweater paws as you try to wipe your wet hands off on your equally wet pants.

Soap just stares at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Shell shocked. He... He’s never... You’re so... He... Holy fuck.

Eventually, he clears his throat and manages a smile, stepping a bit closer to the counter so he can hide the growing tent in his pants. He forces himself to meet your eyes, rather than stare at your chest.

But they’re staring at me, his innermost thoughts whine, wanton and airy in his mind. So desperate for attention... for love... ready to be suckled and bit and groped and pinched...

Johnny leans forward, elbows resting on the counter and chuckles, flashing you an easy, charming smile. "Hey... Looking for something to warm you up?"

Please say you've already found what you're looking for. Please say you want him to warm you up. With his hands. His mouth. His cock. Please say–

"Yeah... Do you guys do hot chocolates?"

"It's not on the menu, but I've got my own stash in the back," he says as he looks you up and down. But how could you blame him? What with your... everything! This is your fault, honestly. Dirty, dirty, little thing, wearing a white shirt in the rain. You know what you’re doing. Something sinister and heated bubbles in his gut. A thick, molten, syrupy desire, a primal need. A sort of instinctive pull, a fish lured in by the soft glow of an angler fish. A moth to a flame. Helpless but to stare, slack jawed, and fighting back drool, as you stare up at him expectantly, He smiles, his lips spreading further as he notices your flustered state, how you shift under his stare, biting your lip as he looks you up and down. Logically, it’s a nervous reaction. But, in Soap’s quickly spiraling mind, it’s a clean indicator that you want him too. "I'll make one, special for you, darling."

Your eyes sparkle, your smile tears the breath from his lungs. "Really? Oh my god, thank you."

Soap grabs a mug from the shelf and twirls it around his finger. He pulls up his sleeves, bunching them around his mid biceps. He flexes, purposefully, showing off the hard-earned muscles in his arms, the scars, the prominent veins, his big, strong hands. Hands that would look so perfect around your neck. Or holding your wrists. Or deep between your shaking legs reaching deep and good, far past anything you could reach on his own. He wonders if you’re a crier. He hopes that you are.

Soap notices the way your eyes fall to the newly exposed skin. The way your jaw drops a little. The way you close your mouth. The way you glance away before quickly looking back. The way your throat bobs when you swallow...

Holy shit.

He can give you something else to swallow if you'll let him. Please let him.

He rolls his hips against the counter and lets out a stuttering breath through his nose. His lips part. His tongue feels thick and leaden in his mouth.

A moan bubbles in his throat, he disguises it as a cough. "Can..." He swallows another noise as he shifts his stance, achingly cock pressed against the teeth of his zipper. He makes a show of dusting the counter off, acting like he's tossed something into the bin so he can adjust his pants. "Can I get you anything else?"

Your eyes, gorgeous eyes, scan the menu and the display. "A cinnamon bun?" You ask, pointing to the delicacy through the glass case. "Please and thank you."

"You're in luck," he says, rutting against the counter again, as quick and harsh as he can without drawing attention. A part of him thoough, a sick, twisted, part of him that quickly spreads his mind like a weed, corrupting and poisoning, wants you to notice. Wants you to catch him. To punish him. "Just made a fresh batch... I've just got to head back and ice them."

"Oh, I'm fine with one of them from the display, you don't need to trouble yourself."

Oh, and how sweet you are...

You keep chewing on your bottom lip. Part of him wants to stop you, tell you that that’s his job. Wants to bite your lips until they’re raw and swollen.

He's fucked. Well and truly fucked.

He smiles. You’re blissfully ignorant of the darkness lurking in his eyes. "No trouble at all... It's my pleasure."

And it is his pleasure. Very much so.

He comes out a bit later, a little out of breath. A little red in the face. A couple buttons undone on his shirt.

"Hot in there," he says with a smile, setting the mug and a cinnamon bun on the counter in front of you. He sets another little plate down, a doughnut. Chocolate frosting with a cream filling, the sticky white substance still pouring from the hole.

"I uh, I didn't order that," you say with a little, awkward laugh. "The doughnut."

"I know you didn't, sweet thing... It's a new recipe I've been trying out. Trying to get right... Mind telling me what you think? It's free of charge, promise."

"Oh," you blink, staring up at him with those wide eyes. God, how he wants to see those eyes watering. How he wants to see those eyes tearing up as you choke on his cock. How he wants to see you cry as he fucks you. You smile. "Thank you!"

You pay for your drink and dessert and blink up at him from under your lashes. Your smile turns shy as you chew your lip. Stop it. Stop it. You’re going to make him lose his mind. You have to know what you’re doing to him. You have to. "Keep the change."

He smiles. "Thanks."

You find a seat in the corner and settle in the corner with a book. Soap keeps an eye on you the whole time. Watches you as much as he can without attracting unwanted attention.

His cock throbs in his pants when he sees you take your first bite of the cinnamon roll. When you wipe at the icing with your thumb and lick it clean. He watches with delight as you eat and drink, rolling his hips against the counter in time with the bobbing of your throat as you swallow.

Soap watches you with rapt attention as you enjoy the desserts. His lips parted, jaw slack, drooling. He wonders if he could convince you to lick it away. He is so glad that he stopped by the office to record the security footage. He’s going to be watching this over and over and... Fuck!

With a final grind of his aching cock against the counter, his boxers are flooded with a wet, sticky warmth. He mourns it going to waste like that. His cum belongs in you. Your tight pussy, round ass, past your full lips.

"How was it?" He asks, breathless, when you return your dishes to the counter. He shifts his stance, hiding the wet spot in his pants. He's not embarrassed that he came in his pants just from watching how your throat moves as you swallow. At watching the way that you lave your tongue over your fingers, licking the thick glaze away with a spit-slicked tongue.

He just doesn't want to weird you out.

"It was amazing," you say. "I really liked the balance of the sweet with the salty... Sometimes the sugar is just... Too much."

"I agree," Soap says, breathless. He swallows a lump in his throat. "I agree."

You become a regular from then on. He always gets you freshly baked items, from the back. No matter how busy.

He's not supposed to alter the recipes. But he doubts the lady will mind that he made a change. All he did was put a little love into the recipes. A little bit of himself in the sour cream glaze.

Keep your eyes peeled for a part 1.5 involving what soap did in the back room!

Comments and reblogs help motivate!

Masterlist!

#call of duty #cod mwii #cod #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #x reader #dark fic #johnny soap mactavish #cod x reader #nastybaker!soap

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