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#i’m just hoping i get.. somewhat of a grade..
tonycries · 2 months
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Brooklyn Baby - G.S.
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Synopsis. Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. Said Suguru doesn’t want to fuck anyone else but you. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rock star! AU, fwb-to-lovers, unprotected sex, oral sex (male receiving), fingering (female receiving), Suguru is sinfully sexy and in l*ve with you, Satoru is a menace, pet names (darling, my girl), Suguru has tattoos and piercings, swearing.
Word count. 3.2k (DAMN I got carried away)
A/N. Happy Valentine’s day! *throws somewhat-fluffy smut at you and leaves* 
Art by @_3aem on X.
Also, wild west! AU longfic with someone dropping on Sunday night (EST), keep your eyes peeled yeehaw.
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Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades.
You did. Your fans did. Hell, you’ve even caught your overworked band manager sneaking a few too many glances. 
And, you conclude, the groupies currently batting their lashes at him definitely did. 
You watch as they swarm to him during open rehearsal, giggling at his pretty smiles. 
Whatever, part of the job anyway.
It’s not like you two were dating. Yeah, a few fucks here and there throughout the years - but what’s one to do when on the road and in such close proximity with a guy that’s practically walking sex? 
Trying not to scowl, you turn away from the commotion, continuing to tune the strings of your trusty Fender. You’ve had your fair share of die-hard fans, so lately why did it bother you so much when Suguru entertained their thinly-veiled advances? 
“Ohoho~ Quite a look on your face there, why don’t you go and caress his biceps too?~” you hear idiot brigade member #1, Gojo Satoru, cackle from beside you. 
If looks could kill, Satoru would’ve been 6 feet under and rotting already. “I thought you stopped writing band fanfiction, Satoru.” you raise a brow. 
“THAT WAS ONE TIME.” he whines dramatically, clinging onto you and shaking you back and forth as if to knock the memory of his Wattpad tendencies out of you. “WHY ATTACK ME JUST CUZ YOU’RE JEALOUS? C’MOOON ADMIT IT.”
You were not jealous. 
Suguru knew you were jealous.
Sneaking a glance, he had to fight the urge to coo at the adorable little furrow of your brows. How unprofessional would it be if he walked off mid-conversation to kiss that pout off your lips?
He knows it’s just sex for you. But - foolishly - every time he held you he could only hope that he ran through your mind as often as you did through his. It elated Suguru to know you were getting that worked up over him. 
That is until, out of the corner of his eye, he spots Satoru draping himself all over you, whispering god-knows-what into your ears. 
The rational part of Suguru knows Satoru is a very touchy person, but why was he so…close? And why weren’t you pushing him off?
Smile tightening into something a little more artificial, he turns to the girls fawning over him. “Well, ladies, I’m sorry to say I’ve gotta go practice before Shoko yells at me again. I’ll see you all in the front row, yeah?” he lies smoothly, disappointed whines following him as he makes a beeline for your figure.
“Well! What have we here, Satoru, are you done tuning?” Suguru pops a head between yours and Satoru’s overly close ones, interrupting whatever conversation you were heatedly whispering. What was so important that you two needed to be that close to talk anyway?
He narrows his eyes at Satoru’s surprised ones, an invisible conversation taking place between them before Satoru cracks a smug grin. “Alright alright. I’ll go tune my guitar.” he rolls his eyes, heading for his electric blue Gibson. 
Your confused gaze meets the twinkling eyes now boring down at you. “Done with the meet-n-greet already?” you question, eyes darting to the group now watching you two like hawks.
The smile on Suguru’s face grows, “Yeah, remembered I didn’t do my pre-concert rituals right.”
“Oh?”
“Wanna help me with it?”
He doesn’t give you time to answer. Quickly setting down your guitar, he drags you out into the corridor - hand tightly in yours and pointedly ignoring Satoru’s wolf-whistles. 
Hallway sex is overrated, Suguru believes - which is why he heads for the dressing room. 
“Pre-concert rituals” his ass, Suguru just thinks he might pass away if he doesn’t get his hands on you right now. Make you feel like his.
It’s not long before the door is locked and he has you bent over the vanity, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. 
“S-Sugu! Why now? The concert- Hah-” You gasp in pleasure as two long fingers probe inside of you, ruthlessly searching for the spot that Suguru knows would have your toes curling and eyes watering deliciously. 
“Fuck the concert, darling. Barely even started and already so wet f’me.” he drawls out over your whimpers. “Wanted you to come over y’know? And save me from those groupies trying to get in my pants.” 
In your lust-hazed mind, you find the words to respond to him, “You s-seemed to - hah - be enjoying that.”
“Of course not.” he leaves a trail of kisses down your back, “Wasn’t my favorite girl.” he whispers into your heated skin.
He’s being rougher than usual, he knows. In the back of his mind he wonders what it was that he was so pissed at. But all thoughts of that are thrown out the window once he presses into that plushy spot inside your wet core, drawing a sinful whine from your mouth. There.
Pulling back to tease your folds with your own slick, he plunges into your swollen pussy once more, easily hitting that spot over and over. 
“Hngh- Suguru, more!” you grind your hips to meet his merciless rhythm, clenching around his fingers. 
You feel as if you’re losing your sanity when he adds in another finger, walls burning as your cunt stretches around his thick rings. 
Suguru was definitely losing his sanity. 
Anyone could walk by. The concert was about to start any second now. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck, too focused on how his fingers were being sucked back in every time he pulls out, your pretty pussy dripping all over his numerous bracelets.
He has to hold back a moan at the way your ass jiggled every time your hips buck to meet his fingers. 
Leaning down over you, he hums lowly into your ear “So desperate for me, hm?”. Pressing the erection straining against his trousers against you, he huffs out “I’m the same, darling. You drive me absolutely mad.”
He feels the way you squirm in impatience at the large outline of his dick, raising your ass in an attempt to get more friction. Eyes crinkling in satisfaction, he pushes down on his girl’s slutty hips, cold rings digging into the small of your waist. 
“Now now…not yet.” he tuts mockingly. 
“Please, Suguru. Please let me cum.”
Increasing his pace, abusing your g-spot relentlessly, Suguru knew by your breathy moans of his name that you were getting close. 
His hand moves from your waist, leaving behind purple marks to remember him by. They wander the expanse of your body - groping your curves, and pinching your nipples through your thin top - delighting in your mewls.
God, you were perfect. He really needed to take his time with you later.
Suguru’s hands, nail polish chipped and fingers calloused from years of playing, finally rest on your face. He pushes your cheeks together, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth and forcing you to look at him through the vanity mirror in front of you. Your dazed eyes meet his darkened ones. 
Suguru was so feral. The man that was usually the personification of grace and poise was falling apart at the seams. His eyes wild and grin spread devilishly as his fingers abuse your cunt never-endingly.
“Look at me when you cum.” he murmurs raspily into your neck, teeth ghosting over your rapid pulse.
You don’t know what it is that sends you over the edge - maybe it was his lustful words, or the way his fingers quirked just right inside of you. All you know is you’re cumming all over Suguru’s fingers, hands clutching the vanity table and eyes locked with Suguru’s in the mirror, mouth dropping into a gasp.
“Fuck! Suguru- Suguru!” you whimper.
Suguru watches in wonder as you ride out your orgasm, using him. He couldn’t give less of a fuck if anyone walked in right now. In fact, a small part of him wishes someone would.
Let them see how beautifully you fall apart because of him.
Finally pulling out, Suguru inspects his fingers. “Now now. That won’t do.” he purrs. 
His tongue erotically licks up your juices covering his rings, still holding eye contact with you through the mirror. He catches the way your thighs press together at his lewd act. ‘Oh? Want some?“ he teases. 
Before you can retort, he’s bullying his fingers into your mouth, making you taste yourself. 
The way you moan around him sends blood rushing straight to his cock. Fuck, he has to steel himself from cumming in his pants right then and there - that wouldn’t be very “sex icon” of him. 
You have no idea what you do to him.
Not willing to wait any longer, he leisurely takes a seat on the spacious vanity sofa. You whine at the loss of contact before catching the predatory look in his eyes. Suguru was going to eat you alive. 
“Come on, darling. Show me how badly you want me.” he grins, legs spreading and prominent bulge on display. 
You take a second to admire the view. Tousled black hair falling enticingly along Suguru’s muscled shoulders, tattooed dragon peeking through where his shirt was messed up. His eyes lustful, and locked on you. 
He was devastatingly handsome. Your mouth waters at the chance to get what so many people would kill for.
Suguru chuckles as you struggle to unbuckle his belt - did rock stars have to always wear such complicated trousers? 
Finally, you pull them down along with his boxers to expose his creamy thighs. Suguru’s throbbing erection lays on his abs, flushed a delicate pale pink.
Your pussy quivers with excitement as you press wet kisses to Suguru’s leaking head, precum dripping down his length to where you’d gently grasped him. A strangled hiss leaves his mouth as you swirl your tongue around the slit. You find yourself lost in his heady taste - he tastes so good.
“Having fun, darling? C’mon now, use me the way you want.” he murmurs, need laced into his voice.
You’ve never gotten used to how big Suguru is. Soft groans leave his mouth as you flatten your tongue and take him in inch by inch, eyes locked with his blown-out ones.
Suguru’s back arches as the heat of your mouth envelops him, hands bunching your hair into a messy ponytail. His pornographic groans echo across the dressing room as you suck on his cock, tongue swirling in just the way you knew he liked.
He can’t even catch his breath with the way you bob your head so heavenly, sucking the soul out of him. It drives him wild to think about how he’s got his lead guitarist on her knees, choking on his cock as your fans wait outside. 
Suguru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as you pop off his cock to take his heavy balls into your mouth, moaning around them as you suck on both erotically.
Shit, he was really feeling it today. 
Through the bangs now sticking to his forehead, he makes out the way your thighs grind against each other for relief. 
You were, too.
If this keeps up he really will lose his sanity.
“As much as I’d love to paint your pretty face with my cum, I think we both prefer it inside, no?” he grits out, cock twitching at the strings of spit and precum connecting you to him as he pulls you off. 
“Need you inside me so badly.” you nod, brain foggy and filled with only Suguru.
He’s quick to lift you into his lap, resting your ass against his pulsing cock, sly grin spreading at the way you’re already so fucked out. 
Suguru feels like he could cum just from the sensation of your juices smearing all over his length, pussy dripping and aching for his throbbing cock. 
“Oh yeah? How bad?” he purrs, eyes half-lidded and already knowing the answer.
“Please. I want you to fuck me so badly, Suguru.” 
“Badly enough that you’d fuck me out there - where everyone is? Show ‘em who I belong to?”
“Yes.” 
At your whimper, Suguru thrusts fully inside you, a moan of relief leaving you both as you finally get what you’ve been craving for. 
“Shit, so tight. Always so good for me, darling.”
Once you start, it’s hard to stop, Suguru finds. 
It happened when he first fucked you in high school - in his car after your first show, running on adrenaline and teenage hormones. And, years later, it’s happening now as he sheathes himself in your wet cunt. 
He just can’t get enough.
He fucks you animalistically, cock ramming in and out of your hole in a way that makes it feel like you’re missing something without him. Nothing in the world other than your two connected bodies. He feels you clamping down on him deliciously, ego growing at you struggling to accommodate his size. 
“F-fuck, darling. Hah- It’s s’tight. Take it like my good girl.”
“Hngh- Suguru, faster!” you groan, fingers delicately playing with the nipple piercings peeking out of his barely-buttoned shirt, euphoric at his drawn-out moans. 
Unlike Satoru - who takes off his shirt every chance he gets onstage - Suguru was one to shy away from showing skin, slutty piercings and tattoos hidden to the world. It just makes it all the more satisfying as you lick a long stripe along the dragon on his shoulder. 
Feels like your little secret. You wanted to be the only one to see this ethereal sight.
“Ah- So good, darling.” Suguru leans back, allowing you more room to play with him as you please. Cock twitching - so close - as you bore into his eyes, sucking his flashy piercings. 
He ramps up his pace, bouncing you on his cock in a way that was carnal. It was so feral, the way his balls sting as they smack your ass, a ring of spit and precum forming around his base. 
His cock aches for release, but he wants to see you cum first. His pretty girl, cumming all over his throbbing cock.
You pull yourself off his swollen nipples and attach your mouth with his, tongues swirling sensually as he kisses you like he needed you to breathe. 
He’s almost as unforgiving with his mouth as he is with his cock. Almost.
KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!
“YOOO I don’t know if ‘pre-concert rituals’ was a code-word for something else but we’re on in twenty minutes.” the unmistakable voice of Suguru’s best friend - and occasional bane-of-his-existence - made you two jump apart. 
“The ultimate cockblock.” Suguru sighs out - his pace, however, does not slow down. Each harsh thrust makes it difficult to muffle your yelps of pleasure from Satoru, who was still calling for you two from outside.
Noticing your predicament, Suguru grins dangerously. “Oh? My poor girl finds it hard to stop her moans? Aww, better try harder unless you want dear Satoru finding out.” he mocks in your ear. 
Both humiliated and turned on by his words, your dripping pussy clenches around his cock. He lets out a choked-up groan, biting hard into the crook of your neck to stop it.
A satisfied smile spreads across your face, “Who should try harder now, Suguru?”
Ah, perfect. You were perfect, perfect for him.
As Satoru’s yells about “cutting a chunk out of Suguru’s pay” disappear across the hallway, both of you let out exhales of relief.
“Dangerous game you played there, mister.” you raise a brow, teasingly.
He chuckles out, before pulling you to him closer by the waist. Lips ghosting over your own, he whispers “Only with you, my darling.” 
Slightly more clear-headed but still dripping with lust, you meet the bounce of Suguru’s hips with your own. Eyes still locked with yours, he stuffs you with every inch - tip kissing your cervix so painfully good. 
The steady slapping of skin and synchronized moans fill the room, blocking out the cheering of the audience awaiting your band. 
Yet, the air crackled with something different this time. For the first time, it didn’t just feel like just mindless fucking.
Bite mark on your neck stinging, you could feel Sugurus heartbeat thundering under your touch - synchronized with your own.
In this moment it felt like just you two in this world. 
You wanted to be the only one in his world. Not his fangirls, not some manager, not anyone else. 
Maybe that was the reason for your courage, feeling like everything has finally come to a boiling point. 
“S-Suguru.” you breathe out as you feel yourself getting closer. 
“Mhm?” brows furrowed, he looks up at you with a tenderness in his eyes that does not translate to the merciless cadence of his hips. 
“Be mine.”
And that’s all Suguru ever wanted. 
With a final hard thrust of his cock, he pulls you into a searing kiss that sends you both over the edge. He cums in hot spurts, thick ropes of seed filling your quivering cunt. It was feral - and it made you feel like his. 
Suguru’s seed drips down the side of his length, forming a white ring at his base as he fucks it deeper into you, letting you ride out your highs together.
As your climaxes bate, he buries his face in your neck, kissing softly over the mark from before. “To be yours is everything I could ever want, darling.” he breathes out, hugging you closer as if to hide this vulnerable moment. But you feel the heat of his cheeks on your skin.
Embracing him, you gather his beautiful black locks in your hand, fingers deftly taking the hair tie around your wrist to tie his long hair into a messy ponytail. 
Pulling back, you admire Suguru’s angelic features. Face flushed, lips swollen, and dark eyes half-lidded as he stares up at you in surprise.
“Wanted to see your pretty face.” you huff out a low laugh.
The expression on Suguru’s face is indescribable, such pure adoration in his eyes. 
Voice low, he murmurs words meant only for you, “I…I’m in lov-” 
“HEYYY I’m serious, stop doing the devil’s tango and GET THE FUCK OUT.” Satoru’s voice bellows once again through the door, shattering the little bubble you and Suguru had found refuge in.
“Ah- um-”
“You-”
Both of you stammer out at once, chuckling at how shy you were acting with one another even after all that had transpired in this room.
“We should probably go, before Satoru and Shoko pop a blood vessel.” Suguru jokes. You laugh out in agreement as he carries you tenderly to the washroom, his interrupted words weighing heavily on both your minds. It’s okay, you have time. 
Rapidly cleaned up and dressed, Suguru stops, a hand on the dressing room doorknob. “”Hey..” he starts almost-hesitantly, “After the concert, would you maybe want to-”
“Yes.” you interrupt, excitement lacing your voice. 
Chuckling in pure euphoria as you both exit, your smiles turn more sheepish as you’re faced with a bored-looking Shoko and an impatient Satoru tapping his foot. “You horny lil’ fuckers almost missed the show, think of my poor fans~” he exclaims, though the glee in his eyes at your intertwined hands was very evident.
“Hope the sex was good at least.” Shoko drones out, eyes flitting over your guilty flushed faces. 
‘Oh yeah, and Suguru - next time you dump your fangirls on me, I chop your balls off.“ she chirps out, pointing her drumsticks threateningly at his neck as you all head back.
Blinding lights. 
Deafening screams.
Hair pulled into a messy ponytail, he was fatally beautiful onstage.
Everybody wanted to fuck Suguru Geto, lead bassist of Tokyo Special Grades. 
But he only wanted to fuck you.
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A/N. MMMMM long-haired men.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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fbfh · 1 year
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rodrick x hyperfeminine reader hcs
wc: 2.3k
genre: mutual pining, contrasting aesthetics
pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine reader (fem/she her/referred to as a girl)
summary: you're new at school and it takes a painfully long time for you to find the only hot guy there. he's had a massive painful crush on you since you first set foot through the door.
warnings: reader is a little insecure/anxious and copes through hyperfemininity, rodrick has low self esteem and dyslexia, they both think they have no chance with the other one, jocks keep asking you out, you're friends with Heather and Madison
a/n: obsessed with this dynamic. when you finally date everyone is so fucking confused lmao
@dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @yesv01
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First of fucking all
Match made in heaven
On your first day of school at Crossland you turned a whole lot of heads 
You figure you should make a statement and decide to channel your idol, Elle Woods
You show up to school in a pink mini skirt blazer set, a little halter top with a heart cut out, and matching pink heels
You’re obviously rocking your signature scent, strawberry pound cake body spray and matching strawberry fizz flavored lip gloss
You did a mani pedi and a facial over the weekend to destress 
You walk in quickly to avoid the people that are staring at you for some reason, unintentionally strutting through the halls in a way that appears totally confident 
You reach the office to get your schedule and tuck it into your heart shaped bag along with your sunglasses 
You make sure to smile and be extra friendly with all the teachers and administrative staff, and in every class where you have to introduce yourself over and over, you try to project what you hope is an approachable friendliness 
People were already starting to whisper about the living barbie doll that just showed up out of nowhere, and these whispers reached none other than Heather Hills
She grabs Madison and tries to hunt you down
To confront you for trying to steal her place as the prettiest most popular girl there
Before she can threaten you, you’re asking her where the good boutiques in town are
You have such a unique, sunshiney charm that she totally forgets what she came to talk to you about
Before she knows it, you and her and Madison have plans to go shopping this weekend
You praise yourself for making a couple friends on the first day, not realizing you accidentally waltzed your way into the elusive popular girl clique 
By the end of the day, you have entirely by accident established yourself as queen bee of the school
As time goes on, you’re relieved that at least some of the people at Crossland are so friendly
Sometimes people say hi to you, and you always reply with a smile or wave or hi back
But a lot of the time people just stare at you
You’re somewhat used to it since not a lot of people wear nearly as much pink as you do
Or glitter
Or use a fuzzy pink strawberry scented glitter gel pen for all their homework
So you try to chalk it up to that 
As the days go on, everyone thinks they know exactly what to expect from you
You’re like Heather 2.0, just a little nicer 
Which is almost worse
When Heather is mean to everyone she doesn’t like (which is almost everyone) at least they have a reason to hate her
But you??
You’re so elusive 
You don’t have a ton of friends, you don’t go out of your way to go party unless Heather and Madison drag you there
But what’s weird is that you’ve turned down every guy who’s actually worked up the courage to ask you out
Every single guy at crossland wants to ask you out
But when the captain of the football team 
And the quarterback 
And the hottest guy in your grade all asked you out
And the whole school watched you politely turn them down one after the other
No one else thought they stood a chance
Heather and Madison think you’re crazy for turning them down
“I just… I’m not really into guys like that.” you say dismissively
“Hot jocks?” Heather demands
You would have said the type of guys who’d have bullied you in middle school, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to bring that up
“Yeah.” you agree, and eventually they stop pressing you
Your status of queen bee is even more solidified by the rumors rampantly spreading that not only are you unimaginably hot
But you’re also impossible to date
This becomes common knowledge after a while
Until one day when you’re running late to school
Heather’s still complaining about having to turn around and pick up her sister
“I mean, you were the one who forgot her at your house…” Madison starts, piping down fast when Heather glares at her
As you all get out of her convertible, tires screech behind you
A beat up white van with spray paint writing on the side parks haphazardly next to the curb
Muffled guitar and drums blast out of the car speakers, and as the driver opens the door, you recognize it as green day
Your eyes widen, and you lag behind to try and get a look at the driver
Heather’s ranting about something, and Madison grabs your arm, pulling you along as you watch the driver stumble out and trip on the curb
He has messy black hair, eyeliner, and he’s wearing a well loved ramones shirt
As if that wasn’t enough, he shoves the drumsticks he’s holding into his back pocket, poking out awkwardly 
“Who is that?” you ask
Heather and Madison whip around, ecstatic that you finally found someone at school you think is hot
They scan the scattered crowd of other late students trying to make it inside before first bell
“Who?” Heather demands, looking straight past the guy at the captain of the football team who you’d turned down for the fourth time earlier this week. “Brent? You know Brent.” 
A twinge of jealousy flashing through her voice as she finishes, desperate for more information
“No,” you say, pointing. “The guy who looks like Billie Joe Armstrong.”
“Who?” they both demand, still looking right past him
“Black hair, black shirt…”
Finally they see him
“Heffley??” Heather demands, holding back a gag at his name. “No, no, no. Not him, anyone but him.” 
She shudders, pushing past both of you to go inside
You’re stuck in place, watching him greet his friends and laugh loudly as they shove each other hello
Madison leans in close
“That’s Rodrick. His god awful band ruined Heather’s sweet 16 and she’s still pissed about it. Going near him is social suicide.” 
It suddenly makes sense that you haven’t bumped into the only hot guy at school yet
If you’re always with Heather and Heather avoids him like the plague… 
Madison drags you inside, and you’re already trying to figure out a way to talk to him
Just because you didn’t know Rodrick exited before now, doesn’t mean he hasn’t been drooling over you since you showed up at Crossland
“Uh, dude… was she just staring at you?” Ward says once Madison finally drags you inside, forcing you to break your unwavering stare you had locked on Rodrick 
He turns around quickly, looking for a more logical explanation for you looking in his direction as some football players walk past 
“She must have been looking at Brent.” he decides
“No dude,” Ben punches his arm, “she was totally making eyes at you.” 
They all laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement as he drags himself to his first class of the day
He can’t focus even more than usual
Were you staring at him? Making eyes at him like Ben had said?
He stares at the back of your head in all your shared classes, which is a lot of them, just like he always does 
And just like always, his mind starts to wander
Of course he’s down stupid bad for you, he doesn’t know anyone that’s not
He wonders what you smell like, what you look like up close
He wonders what your hands would feel like on his body, if you’d drag your pretty manicured nails across his skin
He imagines kissing you in such vivid detail it feels real for a few moments
Then he starts to wonder what you’d taste like 
Probably bubblegum, you usually chew it between periods when you won’t get in trouble for it
He wonders if your lip gloss is flavored
God, since the first day you showed up in this shithole he’s been thinking about you
He’s had countless dreams about you to
He always goes right back to sleep hoping he can see you again, feel your body against his, feel your lips on his skin one more time
He knows it’s hopeless, knows that even if you’ve seen him around and are vaguely aware of his existence, you don’t know his name
And why would you want to??
He’s such a teenage dirtbag he practically has rights to the song
Plus Brent is still determined to get you to go out with him
He considers himself your boyfriend already and has been threatening anyone who stares at you more than normal
Even if he could get past Brent and his own debilitating self doubt and low self esteem, you’re with Heather and Madison constantly, who still think he’s worse than mold after the incident and Heather’s sweet 16
You’re literally untouchable 
Even still, he doesn’t think he’s ever had a crush this bad
Not even back when he liked Heather
The only way he can get through classes is by spacing out the whole time (his teachers expect nothing less of course) and imagining you marching right up to him and sitting on his lap to make out with him
The only notes he takes anymore are scribbled song lyrics about you until his hand cramps up and he gets one of those nausea headache he gets from trying to write or read too much 
He thinks about you so much
It’s getting to the point where he’s thinking about you all the time
And he has absolutely no idea what to do about it
Because he doesn’t stand a chance
There’s no way in hell he could approach you, much less get you to go out with him
Plus you’ve literally turned down every guy that’s asked you out this year
Why would you want to go out with him???
Heather and Madison are wondering the same thing
You could easily pull anyone in this entire school
And now you’re making eyes at Heffley out of nowhere????
It doesn’t make sense 
They can’t pay attention for the rest of the day
Neither can you
You spend the entire day trying to figure out how to talk to him (you could just walk over to him)
How to get his attention (you already have it)
How to set up the perfect scenario to make him fall for you (he fell hard and fast long before now and has not recovered)
A party
You have to throw a party and get his band to play
Then you can corner him after the show to buy a cd and see if you can get it to go somewhere
It’s perfect
Plus Heather’s been telling you that you should throw at least one party before the school year is over
You tell Heather you want to throw a party this weekend
She’s ecstatic, thinking you’re finally moving on to something better to focus on
She and Madison are so busy helping you get everything ready they don’t notice you staring at Rodrick in the halls every chance you get and never managing to get him to look over at you
You’re so busy throwing an elaborate rager of a party to try and seduce him like Jay Gatsby that you don’t notice him staring at you when you’re not looking too
You can’t let anything ruin your chance with Rodrick 
Nothing can possibly go wrong
So when Brent asks you out again at lunch you turn him down more definitively than you have before
You tell him you’re just not into him like that, and to please stop asking you out
He’s never had someone tell him that they’re not attracted to him and want nothing to do with him 
It was definitely a much needed blow to his self esteem
Rumors that you broke up with Brent (even though you weren’t dating in the first place) spread like wildfire 
So after school when you manage to slip away from Heather and Madison for long enough to approach Rodrick and ask him and his band to play at your party this weekend 
It feels like a fucking dream
Not only do they have a gig
But it’s at your party???? 
It feels fake
It feels like something his touch starved hormonal brain would concoct to distract him from what he should be thinking about
They start trying to figure out sets and extra practice time before your party
And Ben insists the whole time that you were making eyes at him
Except this time Rodrick kind of believes him
There’s no way this means he has a chance with you, right??
He watches you walk away
And as you walk away, you let out an excited suppressed giggle that you actually talked to him
You’re still flustered and blushing under all your makeup, fanning your warm face as you hop into the passenger seat of Heathers convertible 
“What’s up with you?” she asks, noticing your distracted state
“I’m just… really excited for this party.” you smile, biting your lip
You don’t think about a thing other than him for the rest of the day
You decide this party really cannot come soon enough
If you play your cards right
You might even get him to like you back
You ruminate on this as you start picking out an outfit - in your signature pink, of course - completely unaware that Rodrick is already rehearsing for your party
And thinking about you just as much
6K notes · View notes
pupyuj · 8 months
Text
→ “magic words.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.
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— what was supposed to be a simple tutoring session turns into something more when the most popular student in the campus, jang wonyoung, opts to teach you a completely different lesson...
word count: 4.7k.
dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!virgin!reader.
content warnings: smut, praise kink, mommy kink, overstimulation, semi-exhibitionism, fingering, begging.
requested ? : nope.
a/n: this one has some sort of a plot so it takes a while to get to the smut part,, hope this one was okay! (jang wonyoung pls marry me.)
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jang wonyoung was late.
you didn’t know why you were even disappointed. what did you expect from someone with her social status? rich, popular, and a bit of a snob… which was why it was a surprise when you managed to convince her to help you study for an english project. you really didn’t know how you did it. when your professor had told you that being aided by someone who was near fluent in the language could help, the only person that came to mind was wonyoung. she studied abroad once, has the top grades in class, and still looked somewhat more approachable than aeri uchinaga (the other student that could’ve helped you).
or maybe it was just your big dumb crush on the campus princess that willed you to talk to her on that miraculous day, but that’s completely unrelated to your current dilemma.
after five more minutes of waiting, you started feel disheartened. what if she was just playing a joke on you? it’s not like wonyoung was an angel; you’ve heard horror stories about some of the fucked up shit she has done in her time in the campus and even before that. so there was definitely a possibility that she tricked you into believing that she was truly into the idea of spending time with who was essentially a nobody, like you.
ten minutes passed, now you were just really, really sad. but your pride was too big, you didn’t want to walk out of that room looking heartbroken. what if wonyoung and her douchebag friends were waiting on the other side to laugh at you? you shuddered at the idea. you already face so much humiliation and scrutiny from being different than everyone else in this school when really they should be all like you: hardworking, passionate, and actually try to give a fuck about their studies instead of just partying every weekend.
twenty minutes later, well — you were nearly passed out. you rested your head on your arms, blinking sleepily at the lights that you dimmed slightly earlier. you decided that you were going to take a short nap, and then you’ll get to work on your own. screw wonyoung and her joke promises. you were hoping that the rumors weren’t true, that people just made them up because they were jealous of her and her money, her brains, and that pretty little face and those beauty marks and those unnecessarily attractive slender fingers. but she really is just like everyone else.
needless to say, you fell asleep. and you don’t exactly know for how long, because when you were shaken awake by someone, your head was seemingly in another dimension. you lifted your head from your arms and yawned softly, earning a laugh from whoever it was that woke you up. you rubbed your eyes, blinked, and tried to identify the person standing by the side of your desk and— oh, shit.
“w-wonyoung?” you asked with your eyes wide, staring at the tall, gorgeous girl clad in expensive attire that smiled down at you. were you dreaming about her again?
“the one and only,” jang wonyoung takes off her jacket and folds it neatly, putting it on one of the unoccupied seats across the table. “i know i’m super late. i had to find a real reason to come here other than, you know, just for shits and giggles. you should thank gaeul-sunbae for talking some sense into me.” oh. she couldn’t have said that in a nicer way?
“okay…” you murmured, nervously picking on the lint on your clothes for no reason.
wonyoung settles herself beside you, sipping on a cup of iced coffee. she slides a full cup to your side of the table, “that should wake you up.”
“you didn’t have to get me one…” you replied timidly but accepting the cup nonetheless.
“oh, i didn’t. gaeul-sunbae got that for you and told me to give it to you because apparently, it was the least i could do for making you wait for over an hour. huh,” wonyoung puts down her cup, leaned back on her chair, and looked at you, smirking. you tried your hardest not to blush at the way her eyes completely raked over your figure. you shifted uncomfortably on your seat, suddenly finding your skirt too short or your uniform too tight. “maybe she has a crush on you. ha! well, that’s quite a jump. from that hot soccer captain in that other university, ahn yujin-ssi, to you.” wonyoung giggles.
god, really? you held back the urge to groan, or roll your eyes, and just smiled awkwardly at her. you were seriously regretting having that dumb crush on her. she was pretty, but her mouth and the things that come out of it made it hard to truly like her.
“i doubt that…” you said, picking up your pen and opening up a novel. the very same novel you had a hard time understanding, and the very same novel that you hoped wonyoung would help you understand but that didn’t seem likely now. seeing that all she wants to do is insult you.
wonyoung doesn’t say anything else, merely fishing out her phone from her bag and silently scrolling up, completely forgetting the reason she was here in the first place. you sighed, tired eyes skimming through the words in your novel. every single word you read just went over your head, and you really hoped wonyoung would notice how helpless you looked but she was… well, she was taking photos of herself. you took your eyes off your novel to do nothing but stare at her. truthfully, you would also drop everything to take photos of yourself if you were wonyoung because she did look particularly good in this day.
“why do you even need me? you’re supposed to be super smart. aren’t you on scholarship at this school?” wonyoung suddenly asked while still posing. you flinched, immediately turning back on your novel in hopes that wonyoung wouldn’t know that you have been staring this entire time. 
(she did. but whatever. everybody stares at her.)
“t-that’s exactly why i need you, though,” you said. wonyoung chuckles. you blushed at what your words may have implied. “i want to keep that scholarship, but i-i’m not that very good at english and you’re… you’re great so i thought you could help…”
wonyoung closes her phone and puts it down, “well, aren’t you adorable. i kinda get why gaeul-sunbae is obsessed with you. don’t tell her i said that.” were you some kind of inside joke between her and gaeul or something? you doubted that the popular senior actually gave a damn about you, so maybe wonyoung was just pulling words out of her perfectly fine ass.
you really needed to stop talking like that.
“don’t start crying now. i’ll help.” wonyoung brings her chair closer to yours. maybe a bit too close for your liking, but her perfume calmed your senses so you appreciated the lack of respectable distance nonetheless. she takes your novel from your hands and without a word, she examines it. the front cover, the back, the first few pages, and the chapter you were reading. you watched intently as she did her work, and you couldn’t hold back squirming in your seat because of course jang wonyoung looks fucking hot when she starts taking things seriously.
her eyes flicker back onto yours and she catches you staring. you didn’t even make an effort to look away. it was too late anyway. wonyoung wordlessly stared back at you, eyes completely devoid of emotion so you couldn’t tell whether she was annoyed of you for staring or not.
“this isn’t what we’re studying in class.” wonyoung said.
“n-no. i’m reading it for myself. i want to write a thesis on it.”
“a what? so, you’re saying you’re doing this for fun? you have that much time?” wonyoung looks at you in disbelief. she puts down your book, almost offended at this reveal.
“that’s how i study. if i can’t prove to myself that i understand whatever i’m doing then i pretty much failed at that subject.” you confessed.
wonyoung groans, throwing her head back. you stared shamelessly at the curve of her neck, and had this sudden urge to kiss her. what the fuck. “i thought you were going to write a dissertation with how you made this whole thing sound so urgent yesterday. turns out it’s just a cute little project, and for yourself! you’re wasting my time, you know.” the tall girl said.
again, you felt sad. you grabbed the book from her side of the table and pouted as you looked at the cover, “w-well, you’re free to leave if that’s what you think…”
“you won’t cry?” wonyoung asked. you took note of the teasing evident in her voice and rolled your eyes.
“why would i—”
you looked at her and found your words getting stuck to your throat. it was weird, because wonyoung was literally just sitting there and yet she looked so… there's really no other way to put it in your lovesick little head. wonyoung looked regal. arms crossed, sly smile, eyes shining with mischief, and one long leg crossed over the other, hiking up her skirt just a little. you immediately looked away, but you were too late. wonyoung knew exactly where you were looking at.
“oh, i see,” wonyoung giggles and leaned forward, propping her arm up on the table and putting her chin on her palm. you avoided her stare, but you couldn't hide your red ears. “gaeul-sunbae’s gonna be really disappointed to hear about this.”
“please, stop with that. gaeul-sunbaenim is not interested in me.” you say in an attempt to divert her attention.
well, much to your dismay, wonyoung wouldn’t let up just like that. she completely disregards what you were saying. “i guess you’re kinda cute. in an almost pitiful way.” she says, eyes examining your features way too intently. “intelligent, decent, and you don’t dress that bad…” the tall girl continues on, taking note of the accessories you have on your wrists, neck, and hair.
you really didn’t know if she expected you to thank her.
“i’d say innocent too, but that's not all true, is it?” wonyoung moves closer, her perfume once again wafting into your nose and nearly intoxicating you. she places a pretty hand on your thigh, smirking at the way you flinched and hid behind your book. “since i’ve lost interest in whatever you actually want to do, how about we do something that’s actually worth my time?” she says, prying your book off of your hands and putting it on the table.
“i-i can’t skip classes. i was serious when i told you that i want to keep my scholarship—”
“don’t worry. you won’t be stepping a foot outside of your beloved school for this activity.”
see, there were a lot of things that you didn’t believe were true in the world. one of them being your brother allegedly not being free earlier this morning to give you a ride to school because he had something important to do, when you knew he just wanted to play video games until he had to leave for his classes. and now, you have something you can add on the list: jang wonyoung kissing you.
you were waiting to be woken up again, convinced that this was all just a very detailed and prolonged dream. but wonyoung bites your lower lip and nothing happens. other than you moaning softly, obviously.
“i knew you’d like this.” wonyoung mutters before grabbing you by your necktie and pulling you closer. her tongue tasted like coffee, mint, and peaches, and her lips were so, so soft. you were on cloud nine; how many people can say their totally unattainable crush kissed them first?
still, despite liking wonyoung’s lips and the warm feeling on your chest, you couldn’t help but gasp and move away once her hand squeezed your breast.
“what?” wonyoung asked, a bit annoyed.
“w-what are you doing?” you asked back, wrapping your arms around yourself.
“...trying to fuck you? i don’t understand what was so misleading about my intent there.” wonyoung says, looking at you like you were the crazy one.
“how is sex so casual to you and your friends…?” you mumbled. you said all that but the thought of wonyoung touching you like that made you feel certain things in your lower region that you really did not want to know about. or maybe you did, but you were just terrified.
wonyoung, utterly confused, quirked up an eyebrow. “why wouldn’t it be to you? wait,” the tall girl takes another second to look at your bright red cheeks, and the way you squeezed your thighs together presumably to calm that feeling in your core. and then she laughs. “of fucking course, you’re a virgin.”
having your crush find out that you haven’t been touched all your life and laugh at your face about it was not in your bingo card.
“that’s putting it lightly… you’re even my first kiss.” you admitted. you absentmindedly touched your lips with your fingers, smiling as you remembered the way wonyoung’s felt when she had been kissing you.
the tall girl stares at you, there was a softer look in her eyes that made you melt. “ugh, you really are fucking cute. you’re making me feel really bad about poking fun at you earlier.” (and that was definitely new. jang wonyoung never feels bad.)
you shrugged, simply accepting that that was her personality, as brutally honest as she was. you started packing up your things half-heartedly after minutes of silence. a part of you was mad at yourself for cutting off that kiss earlier. maybe you would still be kissing wonyoung right now if you hadn’t stopped her, or maybe you’d be doing something more.
“where are you going?” wonyoung asked, looking up at you since you were now standing.
you pulled at your uniform, “y-you said this was a waste of your time so… i think i’ll just study on my own. t-thank you, though. for the coffee and… that other thing.”
just as you made a step towards the door, wonyoung stands up and catches your wrist in a tight grip. “you’re killing me, (y/n).” wonyoung muttered. she pulls you close, which causes you to drop your bag to the ground and nearly crash into her.
“because you’ve somehow managed to make me feel soft inside, you’re getting laid.”
“i’m getting what—”
“i’m gonna fuck you, (y/n). seriously, what era are you from?”
and with that, wonyoung kisses you again. she wasn’t as gentle as before. her hands were on your hair, tugging and pulling. you didn’t know where to put your hands exactly, but wonyoung noticed this somehow took one of your hands with her own and placed it on her hip. you tried to keep up with her as much as you could, not at all aware of how messy you really were with the way you kissed.
unsurprisingly, wonyoung was annoyed at this and pulled away, “this isn’t a slobbering competition. can you calm down?” she says.
“i can’t. i really like you—”
“fuck. you’re pathetic.” she kisses you again, and you really didn’t know if you should have felt insulted or flattered. a part of you wanted to see how far you could go, this was a once in a lifetime kind of thing after all, so this time around you actually tried kissing her better. wonyoung moves, she’s got your lower back pressed against the desk and her hands on either side of you while you hold her face. she lets you control the kiss, smiling slightly since she found you so, so endearing.
wonyoung sneaks a leg in between your thighs and presses her knee against your buzzing core, making you moan into her mouth. she takes off your school-issued blazer and throws it mindlessly in some unknown corner, then she takes your necktie and slowly tugs you towards the small couch in the room, all while keeping her lips on yours. she unfortunately breaks the kiss and sat down on the soft cushion, leaving you standing in front of her, confused and out of breath.
wonyoung leans back on the couch, smirking, “come on, baby. give me a show.”
you didn’t know what she meant, and you were too afraid of turning her off by asking. but by the way she licked her lips as her eyes scanned you up and down, you just did the next best thing you could’ve thought of doing. you pulled off your necktie and you must’ve done something right because wonyoung’s smirk only widened, urging you to continue on undressing yourself. next, you started unbuttoning your white shirt, revealing your silky cream-colored bra. and finally, you pulled off your panties, just so you wouldn’t have a hard time doing it later.
wonyoung was more of an open book than you expected because it was quite easy to tell that she really like what she was seeing.
patting her lap, wonyoung beckons you over, “sit.�� she said. you let your shirt fall to the floor and did as you were told, settling yourself on the taller girl’s lap. you shuddered at the feeling of her thigh against your bare cunt, and fought the urge to ride her.
“it’s always the quiet and nerdy girls like you, hm? hiding all of this behind a book and some straight A’s…” wonyoung’s pretty hands explore your body; from your back, your chest, your stomach, and to your thighs. she enjoyed the way you shivered and slightly moved yourself, desperate for some friction in that area. she plants a small kiss on your collarbone before smiling up at you and attacking your neck. she sneaks a hand underneath your skirt and palms your dripping pussy, her long fingers parting your folds and her thumb just barely brushing your clit.
your soft moans filled the air as wonyoung marks you up. she favored your chest, leaving hickies all over it. she leans back, staring at her work proudly. you took her face in your hands, tilting her head up slightly and then putting your lips on hers. you could feel her smiling as she kissed you back. she found your enthusiasm entertaining, but she was glad she wouldn’t have to do all the work. you boldly pushed your tongue past her parted lips, bravely exploring her mouth. your heart starts beating erratically upon hearing wonyoung’s muffled moans. her voice was so pretty.
suddenly, wonyoung inserts a finger knuckle deep inside you, making you gasp into her mouth and pull away from her lips. the tall girl laughed, “that caught you off guard?” as if she wasn’t looking directly at your widened eyes and gaping mouth. wonyoung pulls her single finger out slowly and pushes it back in, watching as your face contorted from the tiniest bit of pain you were feeling.
“one more?” she asks, but she doesn’t give you a chance to reply and goes ahead and inserts a second finger, making you whine and hug her. wonyoung giggles against your chest as she quickens her pace, relishing in the feeling of her fingers smoothly going in and out of you. the pain was quick to go away, and soon enough you only felt pleasure.
“you’re so tight, baby,” wonyoung wraps her free arm around your waist to keep you steady. she curls her fingers inside you and you moan loudly in her ear. “i’m glad i got to you first. i guarantee you nobody else can fuck a pretty little thing like you as good as i can.”
wonyoung looks up, staring at your features while you try to keep yourself as quiet as you can. the walls weren’t soundproof after all, and the librarian could very well just open the door and invite herself in to check on the students occupying the room. upon realizing this, you threw a quick glance at the door, worried out of your mind. wonyoung notices and gives you a kiss on the cheek to grab your attention, and she was successful.
“nobody will care. plus, you’re with me. you’ll be fine,” she said. she holds onto your waist tighter as she moves her fingers even faster. you clutched onto her shirt, biting your lip but unsuccessfully holding your moans back. “be as loud as you want, baby. let this whole school know who’s fucking you.”
wonyoung couldn’t even begin to tell you how turned on she was right now. you were falling apart before her eyes, the prim and proper (y/n) (l/n) being reduced to this… and knowing that it was all for her… wonyoung doesn’t know if she could hold herself back from completely ruining you on the spot.
“mmhn… ahh— mommy..! mommyy…”
well, shit.
wonyoung was pleasantly surprised. she chuckles, “what? say that again, love.”
you shook your head, embarrassed. “it… it just—fuck—it just slipped out.. i’m sorry…”
wonyoung presses her thumb on your clit and rubs it roughly, “say it.” you whined loudly. that felt too good.
blinded by pleasure, you fulfill wonyoung’s wish. “m-mommy… mommy, ruin me, please…!” you started moving your hips, meeting wonyoung’s thrusts and somehow it made everything feel better by about a hundred percent.
wonyoung was considerably happy. “good girl. can you take one more?” again, she asks but she doesn’t wait for you to answer. now three of her long fingers were inside you, just completely pounding into you mercilessly. the tall girl watched as you basically fucked yourself into her hand. shit, she could cum by the sight of you alone. you were even more beautiful when you were a mess… wonyoung has to fuck you more after this.
“this is a better look for you… none of that honor student bullshit. don’t you like being fucked stupid like this?” wonyoung says, once again curling her fingers and smirking as you throw your head back in pleasure.
you managed to choke out an answer. “yes, mommy… i do, i do…”
never in your life did you ever expect to be calling your crush, the untouchable jang wonyoung no less, such a nickname and even more so, getting fucked by her in a semi-public setting! you were sure to get weird looks from people who might be outside, and the news will spread like wildfire of course but you didn’t care for any of that. not right now, at least. because why else would you think of anything but the girl who was taking you to the stars?
“feels good, yeah? want more, baby?” wonyoung was saying. she herself was getting her panties soaked the faster you were riding her fingers, but she was going to have to take care of her own problem later. she couldn’t take her eyes off of you, after all.
“mmhn.. more…”
wonyoung clicks her tongue, “magic words.” she brings her hand down to your ass, making you whine.
you immediately comply — you were chasing after something that was unknown to you, but you desperately wanted it. and you knew only wonyoung can help you get there. “p-please, mommy… i want more…” you said, looking directly into wonyoung’s eyes and watching as her pink and plump pillowy-soft lips spread into a satisfied smile.
“mhm. you learn quickly, don’t you? what a good girl.”
fucking hell. did everything that came out of her mouth have to sound so hot?
as promised, wonyoung gives you ‘more’. she shifts herself slightly up on her seat, holds your waist in a death grip and whispers, “put your arms around me.” then, she pulls her long fingers out almost all the way before plunging their full length back inside you, deeper than it has ever gone. the sound that left your mouth loud, dirty, and wonyoung could hear the pain beneath all pleasure. 
she repeats her action, and you finally understood why she told you to hold onto her because holy fuck you were going to fall off her lap. you wrapped your arms around wonyoung’s neck and held her close, screaming into her ear every time she brushes past your sweet spot.
“w-wony.. wonyoung— mommy..! i feel weird… i feel weird, i feel weird…!!”
“shh, shh, it’s okay. it’s supposed to feel like that,” wonyoung starts kissing up your neck again, stopping directly under your jawline and leaving another hickey there. “you’re doing so good, baby. we’re almost done. just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?” she pats your ass, gently rubbing on it to ease the sting that her slap left earlier.
you shook your head, “i c-can’t… stop, stop… please..!” you were feeling too many things at once. you wanted whatever this was all leading up to but it was overwhelming. you wanted it to be over but you wanted to prove something to wonyoung, as if ‘holding on’ for longer like she asked would get you a medal from her or something.
“okay, okay… let go, then. it’s okay…”
wonyoung hits a spot and unexpectedly, the pressure in your stomach tightens and breaks in a second. your entire body stiffened as you came undone on wonyoung’s hand with a long, loud moan mixed with a sob. wonyoung shushes you gently, using her free hand to caress your back. she pulls out her other hand from your cunt, it was completely drenched with your juices.
you leaned back after getting a hold of yourself, albeit only a little, and watched as wonyoung licked her fingers. fuck. what you would give to engrave that moment in your mind.
“feeling alright?” wonyoung asked, brushing your damp hair away from your face with her dry hand. you looked exhausted and fucked out. it was hot. wonyoung’s core was throbbing like crazy. she wanted to get off to you so bad. you nodded weakly at her question, even though you didn’t look and feel ‘okay’. you were feeling a lot of fucking things, that’s what.
“t-thank you…” you said suddenly.
wonyoung tilts her head to the side, “for what?” seriously, you were so cute. with your flushed cheeks, eyes glistening with tears, and hair a big mess.
“...you know what for.” you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. wonyoung laughs—music to your ears—and pulls you close by your waist, hugging you and kissing your bare shoulder.
the two of you stayed like that for a while, neither of you saying anything for god knows how long. you would ocassionally lift your head and wonyoung would kiss you, then softly asking if you were okay, or if you needed anything. sometimes, she just looked at you, tugging at your heartstrings and making you wonder just what she was thinking. (‘how come i have never seen you before?’)
eventually, however, it was time for both of you to leave as you had some actual studying to do and wonyoung, well, she has a party to attend. typical.
“hey, i’m giving you my number.” wonyoung says when you finally managed to make yourself look tidy and somewhat presentable. you knew that hickies were all over your neck, but you were too tired to lose your head over them.
“uh, why?” you asked, reluctantly pulling out your phone but not handing it over just yet.
“oh, no reason. i give my number away for free. it’s a thing i do.” wonyoung replies in an exaggerated tone. she snatches your phone from your hands, rolling her eyes at your apparently ridiculous question. her actions reminded you that yes, wonyoung will always be a snob through and through. even after giving you the best fuck of your life.
“ha ha.” you laughed sarcastically. you barely caught your phone when wonyoung mindlessly dropped it on your hands in retaliation. you weren’t going to lie though, having your crush put her number on your phone was a dream come true. you looked at your screen, ready to send wonyoung a quick message so she can save your number when you noticed the name she gave herself.
mommy💘
before you could say anything, wonyoung puts a single finger on your lips and winks, “call me when you need ‘help’ again, baby.”
2K notes · View notes
noosayog · 2 months
Text
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003 an unexpectedly sweet valentine
❥ warnings/content: kuroo tetsuro x reader, sfw, slight angst if you squint, mostly fluff, jealousy
❥ wc: 3.4k
❥ valentine's masterlist, regular masterlist
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“Good morning, senpai!” 
Your senior of one year turns around as he changes from his outside shoes to his inside shoes. “Huh? Oh, morning.” 
“It’s raining hard today, huh?” 
“Oh, yeah. Sure is.” 
“Did you bring an umbrella?” 
“Nah, forgot it.” 
“Aw, too bad! I remembered mine today!” 
“Good for you.” 
The conversation comes to a lull. Senpai stands there looking at you, as if to ask, anything else?
Somewhat awkward, you wave to him. “Have a good day, then!” 
He nods, turning away to make his way to his first class of the day. 
“Wowwww,” a voice from above you drawls. “That was a painful watch.” 
You swivel around to face Kuroo, your classmate. 
“Shut up, Kuroo,” you growl at him. 
“‘Morning Senpai! Have a good day Senpai!’” He mocks you in a high pitched voice. 
You give him a swift kick in the shins, satisfied when he bends over to cradle the spot. 
Kenma appears from behind him, shaking off the stray droplets clinging to his hair. “You deserved that.” 
“Morning, Kenma,” you snicker.
Kenma returns your greeting, heading off to his own class in the year below yours and Kuroo’s. 
A tap on your shoulder gets your attention. “Sorry about him. He’s just in a bad mood because of the rain.” 
“Kai-kun!” you greet. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for this idiot.” 
“Hey!” the idiot in question protests. 
Another head pops out from behind Kai. “What’s going on? Talking rooster head trash? That’s a conversation I can contribute to.”  
“Morning, Yakkun.” 
“Can we not talk about me like I’m not here?” Kuroo complains. 
“Shall we head to class?” Kai asks, easily ignoring him. 
“Yep!” 
“Hello? We’re all in the same class here!” Kuroo wails as he runs after the three of you.
In your homeroom, Kuroo, Yaku, and Kai all head to their seats as you take yours by the window. You greet your friends who sit by you, excited to ramble about your encounter with the cool Senpai from the basketball team whom you’ve recently developed a crush on.
“What do you like about that guy anyway?” your friend asks. 
“What do you mean? There’s so much to like!” 
She gives you a dubious look. “For example…?”
You start counting on your fingers. “Well, he’s captain of the basketball team, so he’s tall-”
“You like him because he’s tall?”
“He’s older, so he’s more mature-”
“Right,” she nods sarcastically. “Being a year older makes him so mature.” 
With two fingers up, you’ve run out of reasons. Your friend rolls her eyes at you. 
“Personally, I prefer the volleyball guys in our class.” 
“Kai-kun?” you nod empathetically. “I can totally see that. He’s kind and smart. Yakkun, too. He’s energetic and outgoing.” 
“Kuroo’s included in that group too, you know.” 
You wrinkle your nose. 
“What’s your beef with him? He’s tall, smart. Lots of people in our grade would say he’s funny too. He’s actually pretty popular.” 
You shake your head, “the most that guy has going for him is his friendship to Kenma. I can totally see someone getting close to him so that he’ll introduce them.” 
Your friend just shrugs patronizingly, like you’re beyond reasoning with. 
“Anyway,” you switch topics. “Senpai forgot his umbrella today, and it’s going to rain all day. I’m going to watch basketball practice afterschool and offer to share my umbrella with Senpai on the way home. Wanna come with?”
“Pass.” 
You shrug. “Suit yourself.” 
– 
“Did you hear that?” Yaku elbows Kuroo, whispering not very quietly.
Kuroo swipes at the elbow, rubbing his ribs and mumbling for Yaku to keep it down. 
“Damn, what’d you do? She thinks you’re such a loser.” 
“Gee, thanks,” Kuroo grits out. 
Yaku holds his hands up in surrender. “Just pointing out the facts.” 
“Hey, now. Let’s not be too hasty,” Kai cuts in. “It might just be a temporary infatuation with the basketball club guy. There’s still hope!” 
Kuroo groans and slumps forehead first onto his desk. Even when Kai is trying to be nice, it makes him feel so pathetic. 
When the final class of the day ends, Kuroo lingers in the classroom, still racking his brain for an excuse to keep you from going to the basketball club. He trails after you as you get up to leave the classroom. 
You’re taking a drink of water when Kuroo watches your friend shoulder into you a bit too hard, leaving you to stumble backwards, hands flailing to keep your balance. The uncapped water bottle in your hands goes flying into Kuroo, dumping its contents into the bag in his hands, containing the spare jerseys the volleyball team had planned on using for practice matches today. 
Kuroo drops the bag, arms coming up to support your back and keep you upright. 
When you’re stable on your feet, you quickly pick up your water bottle to staunch the flow of water, though it doesn’t matter much anymore given the jerseys are all soaked through. 
“Hey! What did you do that for?” you scold your friend. You turn to Kuroo, “thanks and sorry…” you trail off, not knowing how to remedy the situation. 
When Kuroo catches the wink your friend sends him, he catches on. “Aww man, now what’re we going to do for practice?” 
Yaku cuts in. “Oh, it’s fine. We can just use the spare-” 
Kai slaps a hand over Yaku’s big mouth, dragging him off towards the gym. “We’ll head to practice first. Why don’t you figure out the situation, Kuroo?” 
“Kuroo, I’m so sorry, but this was all her fault. Hey-” You turn to where your friend was standing, but she’s gone.
“We needed these for today’s practice. You’re just gonna have to help me out with the laundry to get these dried before the 3v3 drills then.” 
You pull a very displeased expression, mumbling something Kuroo can’t quite hear but is definitely a curse out of your friend. 
“Can’t I please make it up to you some other way? I have really important plans today.” 
Sure, as if trying to suck up to that basketball captain counts as really important plans. 
“All you have to do is toss these in the dryer and wait until they’re done. It’s the least you can do.” 
You offer a begrudging, “fine,” hauling the wet bag and following behind a triumphant Kuroo. 
As promised, it takes you less than an hour to dry the jerseys, passing the time by watching the volleyball club boys warm up and run drills. As you pull the jerseys out of the machine, Kuroo meets you by the locker room. 
“All done! Now can I-” 
“Man, it took too long to dry them. We had to restructure our drills since it’s too late to start practice matches now.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Look, Kuroo. I’m sorry, but I have no say over how long a dryer cycle is.” 
“I know. It just really put us in a hard spot, especially given that Nationals are around the corner…” he sighs audibly. “But it’s fine, I know it’s not totally your fault.” He sighs again. 
“Ok, ok” you give in. “What can I do to make up for it?” 
It takes all of Kuroo’s willpower to suppress a victorious grin. “Hmmm,” he pretends to deliberate. “Aha!” he exclaims. “You could be our manager until Nationals are over. That’d help the team and Coach Nekomata out a lot.” 
You hesitate. “Manager? Why don’t you just find a permanent one? Everyone says you’re all popular-”
“Everyone?” he smirks. 
“Yeah. Personally, I don’t really get it, but,” you miss the slight dimming of his grin. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d be more willing… I mean, more helpful than I would be.” 
“Figures that you’d try to weasel your way out of this.” 
“Weasel my way- wait just a second-” 
“It’s fine,” Kuroo cuts you off, turning around to leave you there. “You’re right, we’ll just find someone who’s more responsible.” 
“Hold on, Kuroo!” you grab the back of his jacket, pulling him back. 
This time, the grin on Kuroo’s face spreads in full force. 
“I’ll do it. I am not irresponsible.” 
“Great, you can start tomorrow.” 
You cross your arms over your chest, huffing indignantly like you’re satisfied that you’ve restored your reputation, your plans to be alone with basketball-senpai completely forgotten. 
Hook, line, sinker. 
Your job as the volleyball club manager is actually enjoyable. Save for the extended time you now need to spend in Kuroo’s company, you make friends with the rest of the team, especially the enthusiastic younger class. 
During lunch time, Kuroo will often request that you join Kai, Yaku, and him on the roof. 
“Why? I deserve freedom from you outside of volleyball club hours.” 
“Interesting that your commitment to taking the position of manager only extends to certain hours.” 
“What? Slander! I’m committed-” 
“We were going to discuss and review our plays from previous games, but I guess we’ll manage without you. Just hand me the notebook and we’ll review without you-” 
You stand abruptly, slamming your palms on your desk. With the notebook in question in hand, you storm past him, making your way to the roof access stairs without another word. 
“Well?” you demand when Kuroo doesn’t follow. “Are we going or what?” 
Kuroo grins. “Coming.” 
In your indignation, you fail to ever catch the grins from Yaku, Kai, and your friends. 
Sometimes, those lunches end up being just you and Kuroo, Yaku and Kai often being called away halfway through. Once all volleyball business is complete, you and Kuroo finish eating in relative peace. Often, he lies down to spend the rest of break napping. You tell yourself it’s too awkward to leave him there without a word, so you sit quietly to keep him company. 
One time, you had awoken to a sound of a camera shutter, realizing belatedly that you had fallen asleep on Kuroo’s shoulder. When you crane your head to face the boy in question, eyes wide and swiping at your lip in case you were drooling, you’re met with the usual smug grin on his lips, but his eyes are warm. Instead of smacking him and throwing a scatching remark, your cheeks heat up and you avert your eyes like an embarrassed schoolgirl.
When February rolls around, the entire student body is buzzing with the excitement of Valentine’s Day. You haven’t had any more development with basketball senpai, with your time mostly preoccupied with volleyball, but you’ve long standing plans to make Senpai chocolate. You’ve done research by asking around to find out that Senpai likes dark chocolate. 
“Have you thought about making the volleyball boys chocolate?” Mari asks you. 
“Yep, I plan to.” 
“And Kuroo?”
You choke on your water. “Why would you single him out? Of course… because he’s a part of the volleyball boys…” you trail off. 
Your friend props her chin on her palm, expression bored but the corner of her lips twitch. “Uh huh,” she says in obvious disbelief. 
Your inner turmoil is exacerbated when Kenma says to you, the day before Valentines, “despite his looks, he likes sweeter chocolate.” 
“Who?” 
Kenma just gives you a look, waving as he makes his way home. 
The following day, you show up to school, hands full with all the chocolates you made the night before. Each bag is wrapped in an individual baggie with a white ribbon except for one that is wrapped special, in a small box with red ribbon.
For Senpai, obviously. 
Your first stop of the day is your friend. You hand her a bag and she smiles, quickly opening it and popping it in her mouth right in front of you. 
“What do you think?” you ask. 
“Mmmm,” she closes her eyes, savoring the sweet treat. “So sweet. Milk chocolate? Weren’t you going on about how Senpai likes dark chocolate?” 
“I… made different batches.” you lie. You brandish the box with the red ribbon. “Senpai’s was made special.” 
“Still sticking to giving that boring Senpai chocolate, huh?” 
“He is not boring!” 
“Sure, whatever.” She peeks into your bag to look at the array of all the baggies you plan on giving out today. She looks up at the red ribbon box in your hands then back into your bag. “Just that one box? And it’s for Senpai?” 
“... yup.” 
“What was that pause?” 
“What pause?” 
She just rolls her eyes and turns back to her textbook. 
– 
“Did you hear that? It’s for the basketball guy.” Yaku elbows Kuroo’s ribs. 
“Can you stop elbowing me?” 
“That’s not important right now! She’s still going to give that guy chocolate!” 
“I know, I heard,” Kuroo hisses. 
Kai gives Kuroo a pitiful look that ticks him off. “What are you going to do?” 
“What is there to do?” Kuroo replies, keeping his eyes focused on the homework he has on his desk. “I’m going to grab a drink from the vending machines. Be right back.” 
He gets up to walk to the furthest vending machine in the courtyard. Maybe the walk and the winter air from the garden will help him cool his head. 
When he gets back with a can of tea in his hands, Kuroo sees you standing at his desk, where Kai and Yaku are still loitering around before class starts. He watches you hand each of them a bag tied tastefully with white ribbon. He lingers in the shadow of the doorway, watching Yaku and Kai thank you, then you walking back to your desk without leaving a third bag for Kuroo. 
He feels like he could use another walk right then, but the teacher catches him in the doorway and pushes Kuroo into the classroom to start class for the day. 
He makes eye contact with Kai and Yaku, who shake their heads at him, answering his unasked question. 
At lunch, Kuroo disappears on his own. He thinks to himself that he just needs the time to cool down, in fear that he’d embarrass himself in front of you by asking where his portion of chocolate is. He would feel bad enough if you just handed him giri-chocolate that you have everyone else. He would die, though, if you said you didn’t prepare him any at all. 
As he sits alone in the rarely frequented stairwell of the west wing of campus, he sighs. 
What does that guy have that he doesn’t anyway? Every conversation Kuroo has overheard between you two has been terribly boring. He gives dry, one-worded answers. He’s not funny nor particularly smart. He’s tall but so is Kuroo? Maybe he’s good at his sport, but Kuroo is taking his team to Nationals. He’s obviously not into you, whereas Kuroo himself? You get the picture. 
Anyway, he doesn’t think it very presumptuous to think of himself as a better match for you. The two of you joke and laugh together. You get along with his closest friends. Despite your sharp tongue, you seem to be comfortable enough around him. He reminisces of the one time you fell asleep on his shoulder on the roof. He had been wide awake and frozen solid, scared that even breathing too loudly would shatter the moment. He would never tell anyone that the photo Yaku had snapped of you drooling against his shoulder was saved in a password-protected folder in his phone. 
He sighs again, all the tension leaving his body as he lets himself feel all the feelings he’s been holding back. A heavy arm rests over his eyes, squeezing them tightly when he feels the sting behind his irises threatening to surface. 
Unable to pull himself together enough to face you in class, he ends up at the infirmary for the rest of the day, citing a headache. The nurse offers one of the beds and Kuroo gladly takes it, napping the afternoon away, a temporary escape from thoughts of you. 
The break is short-lived as he wakes up just in time for the last class of the day. Not even the prospect of his favorite subject, science, can improve his mood as he drags his feet to the lab classroom. He makes his way to Yaku and Kai’s table, not meeting your eyes. His teammates give him questioning looks but say nothing when Kuroo shakes his head and immerses himself in the lesson for the day. 
Class goes by even more quickly than normal and before he knows it, the dreaded time of day has arrived. He packs slowly, hating himself for wanting to eavesdrop on your plans for the rest of the afternoon. 
“So, what’s the plan?” he hears your friend ask you. “Volleyball or basketball?” 
“Not sure,” you reply. “Gotta go, see you tomorrow!” 
Kuroo watches as you hastily grab your things and leave the classroom. He ignores your friend’s prying eyes on him as he walks out after you. 
In the hallway, he spots you speeding away towards the shoe lockers. As he contemplates chasing after you, he hears a call of your name. 
Kuroo watches in mild horror when he finds that the voice belonged to the captain of the basketball team. His eyes stay glued to the boy who approaches you, all charming smiles and grinning snake eyes. The two of you are too far for Kuroo to hear your conversation but he can see your expression morphing into one of bashfulness. 
All his emotions spill over as the scene unfolds right in front of him in slow motion. He watches your hands dig into your pocket, making the motions to pull something out and likely hand it to your senpai. It all happens so quickly, but before he knows it, Kuroo’s grabbing your hand and dragging you away. 
Something - wind? His boiling hot jealousy? - roars in his ears, any protests you let out going right over his head. It’s only when the two of you reach the garden behind the gymnasium that he lets go. 
He freezes, back still turned away from yours.
It hits him then. He drops your hand like a hot potato, almost giving into the overwhelming urge to bury his face in his hands, crouch down so low that he’s buried in the ground. 
“Kuroo?” he hears you call tentatively. 
How was he going to get himself out of this one? 
So he does what he does best with you. 
Cower. 
He turns around, putting two hands behind his head to feign nonchalance. He forces out a laugh and in the lightest voice he could possibly muster at a time like this, he sticks his foot in this mouth. 
“You were gonna give your chocolates to that senpai, huh? You better be glad I interrupted and saved you the embarrassment of getting rejected in front of the entire student body.” 
You blink at him. “Excuse me?” 
“I mean, I really saved that guy back there. Knowing your cooking skills, you might as well have poisoned him-” 
A box thrown at his face interrupts him. He catches it before the fall to the ground, staring at the offending hand that launched the item. He then looks to you, thoughtless as your eyes begin to water. 
“They’re for you, asshole. If you don’t want ‘em so badly, go throw them away for all I care.”
As you turn around and storm off, Kuroo sees one of your hands coming up to rub angrily at your face. 
He gives chase once more today. It’s easy to catch up as he gets in front of you, face craning to look at you, to validate that he’s not going crazy and you’re really crying over him. 
You turn away stubbornly until Kuroo grabs your arms, holding them up in the air to trap you. 
“Let go!” you thrash. 
But it’s easy for Kuroo to keep them still, unusually quiet as he looks and looks until he gets his fill and confirms that he’s not dreaming. 
“They’re for me?” he asks. 
“Yes, you idiot. Do you wanna add deaf to your list of defining characteristics? It can be right up there with moronic, insensitive, stupid-” 
He chuckles; he doesn't even know where it came from, really. 
Relaxing, he lowers your arms back down but keeps his hold. “And are they the ones you made for all your friends? Or are they…” he trails off, staring into your eyes to get his meaning across. 
You cringe, neck shrinking to retract your face into your scarf. Averting your eyes, you mutter, “the second one.” 
He suddenly engulfs you in his arms. The squeeze he gives you forces a little squeal from you. 
“Oh my god,” he rubs his cheek against the top of your head like an overgrown cat. “You’re so cute, I could die.” 
Your cheeks feel hot as you repress the urge to smile. 
Instead, you mumble, “die then.” 
485 notes · View notes
milfjuulpod · 24 days
Text
Taken For A Ride
Downtown celebrating and socializing with your Abbott friends, Melissa seems to be more affectionate towards you than usual, and enjoying every second of it.
warnings: consumption of alcohol, smut, 18+
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A/N: hey pookies long time no see, after taking a long break from writing i finally finished something i enjoyed. i hope u all enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it :)
After the stressful few days that was the smoking fiasco, it was needless to say everyone at Abbott Elementary was relieved when Janine was able to help out the troubled student, even if that meant it included the “no smoking” sign somehow being attached to the brick wall. Mr. Johnson never failed to amaze the rest of the crew.
“You know what would be an ironic way to congratulate Janine and celebrate today working out? Going out for drinks and dancing downtown this Friday,” Jacob pitched to the usual suspects on their way out the door for the afternoon.
“Please, you’ll come up with any reason to get us all out and do something. You’re almost as bad as Janine.” Ava retorted. “But…I do know of some PR event happening that night, I could get us all in after a few shots.”
Unsure of your own decision on Jacob’s idea, you just listened to a few of your friends go back and forth between places to go, before settling on somewhat of a decent plan for the weekend. Looking between faces, a pair of jade eyes met yours. Melissa was already looking at you, realizing that caused a light pink spread across your cheeks. Luckily everyone else was busy caught up in the details of it all. Shifting your eyes away from hers, you walked closer to Ava.
“I’ll be at both this event Ava speaks of and whatever bar you all decide beforehand, but I gotta run. Text me the details?” You asked, picking up your pace once you were met with agreement from everyone.
Truthfully, you didn’t have anywhere special to be, but here in the car was better than being a flustered mess in front of the redhead. Melissa had clearly taken a liking towards you. At first it was innocent, her walls slowly coming down in an effort of friendship. Slowly but surely, her favoritism towards you became more and more clear. She always made sure you were close to her when the two of you were in the same room, she would let her touches linger while she watched your face for any sort of reaction. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume it wasn’t just curiosity, Melissa liked getting such a reaction from you.
You shook your head to clear your thoughts before beginning the drive home. The evening was filled with mundane tasks, grading, cleaning, planning, nothing too out of the ordinary. The rest of the week was similar, mundane, but easy. That was, until Friday. Shortly after you had gotten home from work and started getting ready to meet everyone out, you got a call from Melissa. “Hey you,” came from your end as soon as you picked up.
“Hey sweetheart, can you do me a favor?” Melissa asked over the speaker. You couldn’t see, but you knew she was twirling the end of her hair and lowering her voice on purpose, she always did when she wanted something.
“What is it now, Schemmenti?” You teased her.
“I need you to get ready as quickly as you can and come to my house.” She answered rather quickly.
“And why is that?”
“Because…I don’t know what to wear,” She admitted.
You couldn’t contain the laugh as soon as you heard her answer. She couldn’t be serious, right? “Mel, why do you need me to come all the way to your house for an opinion on an outfit? Can’t you just tell me what you’re wearing or send me pictures? Or, oh! Just FaceTime me.”
“C’mon hon, it can’t possibly take you long to get ready, you look incredible without even trying. Plus, we can carpool. Save the planet.”
You knew it wouldn’t take long for her to convince you. “Fine, I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”
After a few songs and quick outfit adjustments, you were out the door and on your way to Melissa’s. As far as you knew, the clubs Ava tended to go to were more on the luxurious side, so you hoped your bodycon skirt and baby tee were cute enough to get past security. The drive was nice, but not long enough for your nerves to calm down. You had only been to Melissa’s house a few times, you wondered what exactly you had gotten yourself into just as you pulled into the driveway and went up to her front door.
“Hey, did you at least pick out a couple options? Or am I going in completely blind?” You asked, taking a step into her house. Melissa didn’t answer you, though. Instead she quietly shut the door behind you two and very obviously looked you up and down. “This…This what you’re wearin’?” She asked before giving you a once over (again). 
“I was going to, why? Do I not look good?” You began looking at yourself in the mirror in the hallway of her home, trying to fix any imperfections you could have missed. So focused on fixing yourself up, you missed Melissa sneaking up and getting in your space. That is until you could see her dark eyes in the mirror, her lips so close to your ear as she said, “No baby, you look good. Follow me,” She said, and walked away like she didn’t just turn you into the darkest shade of red. 
Upstairs in her room, she motioned for you to sit on the bed while she went into her bathroom. You took a short amount of time to compose yourself and take in your surroundings. It wasn’t messy, but it was lived in, well loved. It was very Melissa, and you wouldn’t expect anything less of the woman. When she emerged, you realized she had color coordinated the two of you. Her white top underneath her jacket matched yours, and her black leather pants matched your skirt. 
“Looks okay?” She asked, fluffing up her hair in the mirror once more before walking over to you. The redhead seemed to sway her hips more as she came closer, drawing more attention to the pants that hugged her tightly. 
            “Y-Yeah Mel, you look good.” You took the opportunity to stand back up and change the subject. “Are you ready to go? Who’s driving?” 
              Melissa gathered the rest of her things and motioned for you to continue ahead of her. “Barb is coming to pick us up, figured we could plan the rest out later since both our cars are at mine anyways,” she said, closing her door and following you down the stairs. You hadn’t considered that at the end of the night, you would be coming back to Melissa’s. Interesting. 
             The ride to the restaurant was nice, a bit of time to catch up for the work wives before meeting everyone else. You, on the other hand, zoned out for most of the ride. It wasn’t until Melissa turned around that you came back to life. “Hon, you in there?” Both her and Barbara were now looking at you, Barbara just stopping the car. 
       “Yeah, sorry. Just taking some me time before giving all my energy to the kids,” You replied, earning a scoff from both Melissa and Barbara. 
       “Those ‘kids’ are the same age as you sweetheart,” Barbara said, turning off the car and getting ready to go in. 
        “Doesn’t mean they don’t tire me out just like actual kids do,” You said, and shut the door behind you. You joined the two older women in stride, Melissa sneaking her hand on your lower back as you three entered the restaurant. It was easy to find your group of friends, all gathered at the high top closest to the bar. “So glad to see you could all make it!” Jacob enthusiastically said as you all sat down. “I have to say Jacob, I’m not mad at the place, so far.” Melissa teased her friend across the table. She reached for a menu in front of her, and turned to you. “Have you been here before?” She asked. 
        “I have, actually. It’s nice, the bar food is surprisingly decent and the bartenders know what they’re doing, which is a nice change of pace,” You answered honestly. The redhead laughed at your response, but it was clear she was genuinely listening to what you had to say. 
       After a few minutes, everyone had ordered a few appetizers and the first round of drinks, courtesy of Ava. “What? Yall think I don’t have principal money?” She laughed. “But you better make this first round worth it, all of yall. Drink up people!” The first round was quick to arrive, and the second round was close behind. “I’ll get this one, just in case I get too drunk and forget to pay for drinks later,” You said, half to your server and half to your friends. 
       Melissa’s hand snaked its way onto your thigh, squeezing it gently. “Don’t get too drunk now, I don’t want you puking in my bed later,” She said quietly to you. You laughed off her teasing, but couldn’t ignore her lingering touch on your thigh. The combination of the alcohol and Melissa’s touch made warmth spread throughout your entire body. 
        She didn’t stop there either. It seemed with each sip she took of her own drink, she was letting go of those walls and showing you more and more affection. As much as you loved the attention, it was driving you crazy. Every time she laughed she would lean into you, followed by meeting your eyes to see if you were laughing as hard as her. Whenever the redhead had a snarky comment to make, she would nuzzle into your hair and whisper it into your ear. Those times were the hardest to get through. 
        Luckily after the third round, everyone decided to change locations. Barbara was the only one who stopped after her first drink, leaving that version of Barbara for another time—someone had to wrangle in the kids. 
        “Alright everyone, whoever is coming to Ava’s club needs to follow me to my car, I’ll be dropping you hooligans off.” She laughed, but everyone knew she cared and would never hesitate to give any one of you a ride. Ava, Janine, Jacob, Melissa, and yourself followed Barbara’s trail in the parking lot. Gregory, despite many pleads from everyone, decided to head home. Something about getting up early for the perfect gardening weather, your memory was foggy since Melissa was drawing patterns on your back at the time. 
       “Wait, we have one too many…Someone has to sit lap. Couldn’t be me though, I get shotgun since I’m giving Barb the directions,” Ava told the group and quickly took her spot in the front. 
       “You’ll be fine, right hon? Besides, I’m a good seatbelt,” Melissa said to you, walking with you to the car and taking her spot without leaving you much choice. You took your seat, and silently prayed the club wasn’t too far away. As soon as Barbara started driving, Melissa had her hands on you. One splayed across your stomach and the other wrapped around your thigh. Luckily Ava was already in party mode and took over the music on the drive, leaving no room for conversation. If you tried talking, you fear it would be full of stutters and gasps. 
        Once everyone got comfortable in the car, Melissa took advantage of the position the two of you were in. She lowered her hand a bit on your stomach and tightened her grip on your thigh. You could feel her nails through your skirt and you attempted to close your legs more to get her to ease up, but of course it didn’t work. You felt her lips against the shell of your ear for a split second before you heard her voice. 
        “Stop squirming so much baby, or I’ll really have to hold you down.”
        Although the music was loud, you knew Melissa was close enough to hear the whine that escaped you. And if she didn’t, she certainly felt your body’s reaction to her. Just a minute later you were thanking your lucky stars as Barbara pulled up to the club and lowered the music. You knew you were blushing, way too warm, just an absolute mess thanks to the woman underneath you. 
        “Alright kiddos, have fun and be safe! Everyone please get home safely, and make good decisions!” Barbara said her goodbye, and everyone thanked her as they made their exit. Ava led the way to the bouncer, and though you took the opportunity in the cold air to calm down, Melissa stayed close by. Even when Jacob started talking about the famous drinks they had here, she pretended to listen all while keeping her beautiful green eyes focused on you. She was driving you insane. 
       As soon as Ava got everyone to their VIP spot and drink orders were placed, you took off to the bathroom. Cold water and alone time was exactly what you needed. You stood in front of the bathroom mirror obsessively looking yourself over, worried that the whole club would somehow be able to tell Melissa had you wrapped around her finger and was tugging on the string like a play toy. Focused on the cool water on your hands as you began to turn on the sink, you missed the sound of the door opening. 
        “Everything okay, hon? You left pretty quickly. Don’t tell me Jacob’s list of ingredients scared you from the drink you ordered,” Melissa’s voice was heard from behind you. Quickly you turned off the faucet and faced her, your body betraying your mind in an instant. “Please, not much could scare me off from a drink at a place with a bar like this one,” you joked. She took a few steps closer, inching you against the back of the counter. 
        “Then what’s going on, amore?” She asked, but there was a tone in her voice you couldn’t pinpoint. The nickname didn’t help your state either, it never did. “N-Nothing Mel, everything’s okay.” You would’ve walked away at this point if you didn’t feel cornered by such a beautiful woman. 
        As if a switch flipped in her, Melissa put her hands by your sides on the counter and pressed herself against you gently. “Don’t lie to me, I could sit here all night,” she said lowly. 
       “Melissa…” was all you were able to get out. She pushed herself against you harder, her breasts flush with yours at this point. “I’ll ask you one more time. What’s going on?”
       “I…You’ve been teasing me all night,” You felt Melissa put her hands over yours on the counter and squeeze them gently. “Mmm, I haven’t been that mean, have I? I figured most of my attitude tonight was directed towards Janine, not you dolcezza mia,” She tightened her grip on your hands with her last two words. If she wasn’t making your body feel on fire, you would’ve rolled your eyes just then. 
       “You know that’s not what I mean Melissa,” You said sharply, growing tired of this game with her. “Oh, this teasing then?” She asked, and a second later had her thigh pressed against your core, bodies closer than they ever have been. You groaned at the feeling and had to fight every urge to not grind against her in that moment. All you could do was nod, which drove Melissa crazy. You didn’t know it yet, but she loved teasing you until you couldn’t take it anymore, making you beg and plead for what you want. 
         “Aww, you poor thing, let me help you then.” Melissa slowly began rubbing her thigh back and forth against you, and captured your lips in hers to keep you quiet. She let go of your hands and let you touch her, and you wasted no time pulling her closer. The older woman moaned at how tightly and desperately you pulled at her. She broke apart the kiss to continue her way down your jaw and throat, and you felt her use her leg to open yours even more. 
       “Melissa…S-Someone could walk in,” you said between gasps. “No they won’t, I locked the door behind me,” She stopped kissing you for a moment to smile up at you, and you realized Melissa had planned this, and you went right along with it. In your moment of distraction, Melissa had pulled your skirt up, and it wasn’t until you felt her nails on your thighs again you realized it. “God, Melissa, you’ve been teasing me all night…please,” You muttered. 
        “Please what, my love?” You rolled your eyes at her response, to which Melissa dug her nails harder into your skin. 
        “Please touch me, fuck me, I need to feel you. I need you.” At your words Melissa brought her lips back up to yours, ever so slightly brushing them together. “Good girl.”
        Melissa tugged your underwear to the side and slowly drew a finger up and down your center. The bathroom was filled with your moans and Melissa’s gentle shushes and kisses across your body. She didn’t hesitate giving you exactly what you wanted, the feeling of her fingers inside you bringing you closer and closer to the edge every passing second. Her lips felt so soft as they left red and purple marks along your neck, her perfume surrounded you entirely, all you could feel was her. Opening your eyes, you looked at her. Her red hair falling across the two of you, the way her pants looked so good on her tonight, her fingers pumping in and out of you. 
        “Baby I’m s-so close…please Melissa,” You moaned. She kissed her way back up, stopped right by your ear again and said, “Let go sweetheart, let it all go for me.” After a few more touches, you rode your orgasm out against Melissa, overstimulated from the senses. She let you catch your breath, every once in a while planting a gentle kiss somewhere she left a mark earlier. Once you opened your eyes and met her green ones again, she spoke up. “Hi beautiful.”
        “Hi,” you giggled out. You felt higher than ever, post alcohol and orgasm. Melissa took your hands again and helped you stand up straight, adjusting your skirt in the process. It was sweet seeing her like this, so caring without having to say a word. You pulled her back up to you, kissing her again. This time it was less rushed, and you hoped she could feel your admiration and gratefulness in it all. 
         “I guess we should go back out there before our drinks get watered down,” Melissa said once the two of you finally pulled apart. “Yeah, I guess. But only if you let me hear what your moans sound like when we get home,” You replied. 
      Melissa giggled and led the two of you to the door, “Deal.”
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kookslastbutton · 10 months
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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) II ch. II
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✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.
Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader
AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 5,044
Warnings: 8-year age gap, flashbacks of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, mentions of therapy, kookie trying to be a good husband, cute coupley stuff that idk anyone will like but 🥺 👉👈, jk says cawk , idk why this is a warning
Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+
A/N: Hi guys! I'm back! I thought I'd start off with a little flashback and then diving back into the story. Also, big thing–I decided not to make jk a complete butt. I don't want this story to be about "jk finally coming around after treating oc like garbage for wanting a kid". It's more of a we'll figure-it-out-together kinda thing though there will be bumps in the road. Anyway, enjoy 🥰
<< ch.I ༓ ch. III >> | series masterlist
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To say falling in love with Jungkook was an effortless, butterflies-in-your-tummy, love-at-first-sight, you-know-it-when-you-see-it sort of affair is far from the truth. In actuality, you and Jungkook met on a very normal basis and had very normal rapport…well, somewhat normal.
Jungkook was your economics professor in grad school and you were merely one out of eighty of his students during the first semester. Surely you'd be walking out with no more than a barely scrimmaged 'A' and remnants of stupid economics jokes he and his colleagues found slapstick funny.
Jungkook always had an interesting sense of humor.
Bottom line? Your life wasn't a drama and you certainly didn't plan on living like it was–especially when your parents were on your tail, making sure their hard-earned money was well spent.
As if being bonked on the head by something called fate, however, Jungkook sent you away with far more than odd jokes and good grades.
Hey, hindsight is 20/20.
four years ago
“Oh, good morning.” A soft, yet hoarse voice strides past you. You view the man, estimating that he be in his early 30s though could easily pass for 25 by his youthful appearance. His hair is black, a bit shaggy but well-kept nonetheless. Silver piercings dangle from his ears and a pair of rectangular glasses rest on his perfectly symmetrical face. This is your professor?
Undoubtedly, what mesmerizes you the most is the striking arm tattoo partially displayed under the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt. You remember temporarily considering tattoo artistry in high school but studio arts appealed to you more.
Not like you got to do either though, seeing as you’ve been stuck in econ for the fifth year in a row. You’re parents insisted you get your master’s immediately after undergrad…how wonderful for you.
But back to the man at the front of the room. You weren’t expecting someone so hip and attractive–very, very attractive.
Your stomach churns but you brush the feeling away.
He's your professor for god sake.
The man, coincidentally your professor, quirks a small smile your way and sets his bag on the podium at the front. “Didn’t expect anyone to be here for another twenty minutes.”
“I just got out of another class a couple of rooms down so I’m here early.” You straighten in your seat and return a smile of your own. “It’s nice to meet you Dr. Jeon. I’m Y/N.” You start bouncing your leg up and down, clicking the pen in your hand. Please be right, please be right, you chant silently, hoping you remembered the name correctly.
Jungkook notices your slightly restless state but he doesn’t say anything about it.
“Just to be sure, you are here for ECON 602 right? Macroeconomic Theory?” He unzips his bag and sets his laptop on the podium. Making brief eye contact, he catches sight of the piece of paper directly below your nose. “That’s a beautiful sketch.”
You glance down, moving the paper to the side as if embarrassed. Not many people see your work beyond close friends, and even then you like to keep it to yourself. “Yes, absolutely,” you reply. “ECON 602, 12:15 pm. And thanks, I draw as a hobby.”
Your professor hums, nodding as he connects the HDMI cable to his laptop and lowers the presentation board.“ Dr. Kim is going to be quite jealous when he hears such artistic talent is in my economics class.” He lets out a slight chuckle. “You don’t mind if I tell him, do you? A little competition we have going on.”
You snort at the comment.
Dr. Kim Taehyung was the art department’s most talked about professor. Everyone knew him for his extremely unique perspective, classy personality, as well as his breathtaking artwork. You’ve passed him in the hallways a number of times, wishing you could study under him and dare you say, in more ways than one.
“I don’t mind.” You shake your head. “Are you and Dr. Kim close?” Maybe you shouldn’t be this curious but it was now fifteen minutes until the start of class and no one else had shown. What else were you going to fill time with? Awkward silence while you watch your professor fumble and tap on his keyboard?
“We were colleagues if you can believe that.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Only two years ahead of me in undergrad. When I first started teaching here I had no idea he was here too. But you know what they say __, it’s a small world.”
“Smaller,” you retort. “I feel like everywhere I go I run into someone I’ve known or seen at some point in my life. You just never really know I guess.” When you first entered university, you were counting your lucky stars that most of your high school peers were attending college nearby your hometown. You on the other hand were a good five to six hours from home. Last you checked, however, half of those peers were now getting married or on their second kid. Crazy how some people’s lives change on a dime.
You watch as your professor shuffles a few sheets of paper in his hands, scanning them briefly. “I can relate to that,” he mutters. “Pretty sure we haven’t met before though. Could be a bigger world than we think. Now where’s everyone else? Didn’t all drop last minute did they?” The man lifts his head, flashing a big gorgeous grin. His eyes are playful and dance with mirth.“Not that I would mind if it were just you and I this whole semester.“
“uh–“ is embarrassingly, all you say. He isn’t implying anything by that right? Oh god __, don’t be stupid. As you've established, this isn’t a romance novel and you’re most definitely not the main character.
“You seem attentive is what I mean,” the man says, breaking you out of your daze. “And beyond punctual. Two qualities that I hold in high esteem.” You’d say he had a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth but it was likely an illusion. Your professor has bigger fish to fry than worry about any possible scenarios you’ve concocted in your silly head.
Still, in a moment of sheer thoughtlessness, you say something you regret being unable to retract. “Thank you, I like you too.” As soon as the words fly out you feel the need to run out and bang your head against the wall. Thinking on your feet wasn’t your specialty.
Little to your knowledge, Jungkook finds your mannerisms cute and stifles the temptation to tease. You’re his student, after all, a little professionally please, he repeats to himself.
“So are you from here?” Jungkook asks, choosing to switch the topic before both of you get swallowed into a messy situation.
You shake your head in denial. “I live here temporarily but I grew up about five hours north of here. My parents are still there.”
“Ah, well that’s a bit away. I imagine you miss them?”
You ponder the question for a second, eyes rolling up in contemplation. “From time to time.” Jungkook gives a knowing look. He’s had his share of familial drama and the need for space.
“I understand,” he says. “I grew up ten hours south myself.”
“Wow, that’s…far.” You’re surprised by the distance and can’t imagine it’s an easy commute. You wonder how long he’s been here and more so, if he’s here alone.
“Yeah.” He rests his palms on the edge of the podium, leaning on them gently. The protruding veins in his forearms catch your attention but you pry yourself from lingering. After what you said earlier, the last thing you want is for Dr. Jeon to think you're coming on to him. “Gets a little quiet sometimes but I’ve learned to live with it.”
As if immune to learning from your mistakes you blurt exactly what’s in your head.“So you’re not–“
“Married? Dating? Seeing someone?” Jungkook finishes your sentence like it’s nothing he hasn’t done tenfold times before. “No. I’m not.”
You give a small “Ah,” nodding in understanding before another classmate walks in, putting an abrupt end to the conversation. Jungkook is quick to greet the young man who’s joined but he’s certain he won’t be forgetting your name anytime soon.
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present
You tilt your head back, allowing beads of hot water to run down your bare skin. The sound of steady pattering combined with heavy steam relaxes your muscles.
You can't believe you actually told him.
Blurting out to Jungkook that you wanted a baby in the middle of a fight is not how you intended to open up to your husband. But everything escalated so fast that it just came out.
You think back to last night’s events.
Once the movie's credit scenes appear Jungkook feels your eyes burn through him from your lounged position. "You're making that face again," he says.
"There's no face."
"Look," Jungkook cuts shortly. "Will you just tell me so we can deal with it?!"
"Just deal with it? Like it's some kind of nuisance of an issue that needs treatment?" You jump up from the couch and head to your bedroom in a fury, your husband hot on your trail.
"I don't mean to be pissing you off, sweetheart but I know something's up." He follows you into the bathroom, watching you reach for your toothbrush. "Can you please slow down and talk to me?" He grabs the toothpaste before you can, forcing you to stop in your tracks.
"I–I want…I want to be a mom. I want a baby."
"A baby? What do you mean you want a baby?" You see the panic settling in his eyes. Jungkook takes you into his arms, his thumb wipes off some of your tears. "Honey, I'm sorry I didn't know. When you came home from the park I didn't realize that little boy meant so much to you."
You try blinking back your tears but they keep running down your face. He's being gentle with you and you appreciate that but his choice of words tells you his answer is no. It's quiet, subtle, and cuts like a knife.
You break away from him to splash cold water on your face. The coolness calms your nerves. “He didn’t. Never–never mind what I said, sorry. I’m tired and I’m probably not thinking straight.”
It was a blatant lie but just look at your situation. Married for two years, still on birth control, and had no plans to change that. Suddenly one party diverts from the plan fully aware that the other is perfectly comfortable with the current plan.
Yes, you hoped he'd have a slightly better reaction but you don't blame him for his stunned look.
Plus, did you even have enough time to realize what you were saying? Feeling? It could easily be written off that you were simply impulsive, emotionally vulnerable, and so on with the track record you had regarding kids and parenting.
You sigh, bitter aftertaste in your mouth.
Not much else happened after the fight. Jungkook apologized again with his arms wrapped around your waist. He snuggled his nose in the crook of your neck and kissed your cheek too.
It was the usual, it felt familiar and warm but the pang in your head put a roadblock to that. No marriage is perfect. You know that. But you have a feeling you and Jungkook are headed for a steep valley, both on opposing sides.
"Hi.” You’re taken out of your thoughts when you hear the shower door pop open. Your husband steps in, with messy hair and half-open lids. Evidently, still sleepy.
You spare him a glance and quickly reach for your body wash on the shelf. “Hi,” you reply back, voice monotone.
Jungkook moves closer behind you and curves an arm around you. He grabs the bottle out of your hand and squirts some of the soap into his palm. “How did you sleep?”
A small shiver runs up your spine when his cool hand rubs circles against your upper back and shoulder. It still feels nice, you admit. You see some of the soap drip down and hit the shower floor.
“I slept okay. You?”
“I’m about the same.” Jungkook moves his hand a little lower, making sure to cover your whole backside. “I’m really sorry about how I handled things last night. What I said and how I said it was inexcusable.”
“Please, Jungkook you don’t have to keep apologizing about it. I know…and I’m sorry I spurred it on you so suddenly. It’s not how I wanted you to find out.” if at all, you add to yourself.
“Is it still true?” he asks, stopping his movements. “Do you really want to start a family?”
You feel queasy all over again. His tone is serious and if you turn around you’ll likely see the fire in his eyes. So you remain in your position, facing towards the shower head.
“I don’t know…” you finally say after thirty seconds of eerie silence. “But I think I do, I really do. Seeing our friends and other people our age have kids makes me wonder if we’d ever have that. I can’t explain why right now. I know it’s unexpected after we’ve been living a sort of way for so long.” After another pause you continue. “But I know it’s not a mutual thing and that’s…okay.”
“Sweetheart, even if we were to have kids…where would we find the time? The school year’s starting soon and I’m gonna be running ragged at the university next week. You know my schedule. I teach Monday through Friday, leaving at 7:15 am and returning around 4 p.m. You leave for work a little later in the morning but get back at 5 p.m. All our week consists of will be eating a quick dinner together, then I have to squirrel away to my office for the night to review class notes and grade stacks of assignments.”
Though you’re aware of how crazy busy Jungkook gets during the school year, you’re not foolish enough to believe that is the root of his argument.
“Maybe you’re right that we don’t have much time now but Jungkook, we can figure it out. You only teach 9 months out of the year and I can–I can stay at home or we can hire a nanny. And we don’t have to do it right away but–“
“__.” Jungkook turns you around so you’re looking eye to eye. He hesitates to say his next words, fearing a replay of yesterday. But he can’t bring himself to pretend with you. Not on something this serious. “I understand and I want more than anything to tell you I want the same, but I can't lie to you. Being a father, and having a kid, I think it’s wonderful but I just never saw that for myself. I’m so sorry I–”
Your heart concaves into your chest. You absolutely want him to be honest but it pains you to hear. Where do you go from here?
Slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck. Jungkook jolts a bit, surprised by your sudden gesture but welcomes the embrace.
“It’s okay Jungkook.” You settle your head into his shoulder, simply wanting to be close. One tear spills out, then another. “It’s okay.”
“No, look at me __. You didn’t let me finish.” You lift your head from his shoulder. Jungkook strokes your back soothingly before continuing. “If this is what you want, then I’m not going to stand here and be the asshole husband that just dismisses it. But this is a big step.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “Don’t say what I think you are. Jungkook you don’t have to do anything.”
“I’m not saying I change my mind.” Of course, that would be unrealistic, you talk yourself through, preparing for his next words. “However, I am–I am willing to seriously consider this whole thing, babies, diapers, strollers, all of it. But I need you to be sure that this is what you want. And the only way I think that can happen is if we start this slow. Sounds like I’m making some sappy speech huh?”
Jungkook cracks a faint smile.
You look like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop or for him to yell psyche and flick your forehead or something.
But none of that happens.
Instead, Jungkook unwraps one of your arms from around your neck, places a light kiss on your knuckles, and stares deep into your eyes as if making a promise. “I know this isn’t exactly heaven to your ears but I’m just trying to say, let’s not rush to a decision yet, okay? All of this did just get revealed yesterday and I think it’d be unfair to both of us if we scurry past it without thinking.”
Shocked. You’re utterly shocked. You were expecting him to give you a flat-out no or attempt to cover up the issue somehow. While, this isn’t your ideal outcome, if Jungkook is willing to take this seriously, no bullshit necessary, then so are you.
“Thank you, Jungkook.” You smile at him, feeling a tad lighter than you did before. Your heart beats again, slow and steady. “I love you.”
“I love you more than anything __. I married you and I intend to keep it that way.” Jungkook sneaks a wink and you press a kiss to his lips.
“Hey,” you pipe up. “It’s Sunday isn’t it?”
Jungkook nods in confusion. “It is..?”
“You have somewhere to be this morning don’t you?” You wait a moment before an oh-shit expression forms on Jungkook’s face.
As you remember your husband was supposed to be at some fancy gold club today. Like Jimin, a certain Kim Taehyung had his weekly “thing” too. Being close friends, Jungkook was supposed to be there, along with Hoseok.
“‘You're so right. 'M sorry honey I gotta go. They’re gonna kill me." Jungkook gives you one last kiss before slipping out of the shower. "I’ll be back for dinner.”
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“Jungkook! Where the fuck have you been? We tried calling you!” Taehyung is the first to speak as soon as he catches sight of the younger man. He has his usual blush pink polo shirt on paired with well-pressed beige shorts.
He looks a little too handsome for golf.
Jungkook’s secretly glad his wife stayed home this time, as he’s fully aware of her mini crush on Taehyung in school. When she first found out they were colleagues he could tell she had borderline stars in her eyes.
“Sorry sorry,” Jungkook says. “I was doing stuff and time escaped me. Plus, I didn’t have my phone near me for a bit. But I’m here now, so let’s get going!” Jungkook walks in front of the two men, heading for the first stage of the golf course. “You guys coming?” He turns around and lifts both arms up.
Taehyung and Hoseok exchange looks before following his lead. It’s unlike Jungkook to be this eager for golf. In fact, he hates golf. And his explanation is a bit…questionable.
As much as Hoseok is a friend, he is also just as much of a psychologist who can't stop himself from practicing his craft when given the chance. “You doing alright?” Hoseok waits for Jungkook to answer, one hand clings around the top of his golf club while the other settles around his hip. "Haven't seen you since Jimin's last dinner.”
"Yeah, I'm good," Jungkook barely replies, watching Taehyung practice and few swings before taking the shot. Like a prodigy, it sinks right in. "Hole in one again man? I thought you painted."
Taehyung glances over his shoulder with a smug expression, cocky smirk, and sunglasses behind his head. "Don't be too jealous of hyung, Jungkookie."
"Fuck off Tae," Jungkook quips back. "I'm not 22 anymore. I have a good job, nice house, and a gorgeous wife waiting for me at home. What do you have? A bunch of golf balls in your pants.”
Hmm, a little more defensive than usual, Hoseok notes. And guarded too, something’s up.
"About that wife of yours Kook," Hoseok drawls. "How she doing?" Jungkook turns towards the man, slight distaste on his face.
“Uh, she’s fine. Thanks for asking. Also, I know what you’re doing and I’m not in the mood.”
"Ah Jungkook, you act like I'm being so malicious.” Smiling, Hoseok continues. “Can't I care about my friend of ten years without such accusations?"
Jungkook sighs and kicks the grass. Hoseok has been one of his closest friends for a long time so if there's anyone worth talking to about his current situation and who'd understand, I'd be him. "Well, I’m not saying much right now but.....__ recently told me she wants a baby. I’m still–I'm having trouble processing it. But I’m trying.”
Hoseok throws a hand behind the younger's shoulder. “That’s big news Jungkook and it’s completely fine that you’re still working through it. Don’t feel like you have to speed up the process either. I’ve known you both long enough to know that parenting hasn’t really been in the cards until now so I’m surprised myself.”
“I think she’s still a little unsure, but something happened the other day and it struck a cord inside her. She wants a family and,” Jungkook steps to the side, and Hoseok's hand slips from his shoulder. “I wish I could tell her I want it too. But I can't lie to her like that. I also don’t want her to bury that desire for my sake, so I told her we could consider it. I don’t know man, I feel like I’m trying to do the right thing but I don’t know if I can do this. Will I ever change my mind? I want to, for her.”
Hoseok looks at his friend with soft eyes, compassion in them. “Unfortunately, this is not something you can foresee nor force. At least not this early. But you’re definitely doing the right thing by not brushing her off. As real as your feelings are about not wanting a child right now, so are __'s feelings. It’s best you listen to both sides.”
Jungkook tousles his hair around. “I just–fuck.”
Hoseok doesn’t need further explanation to understand Jungkook’s predicament. He’s frustrated, blames himself, and is struggling to come to terms with reality. The unknown scares him and he doesn’t want to lose control of what little he has. “I’m sorry, Kook…it’s a heavy load. Why don't you come in for a session sometime? I think this might be something worth talking through."
“You mean therapy? I don't know, I’m about to have a pretty tight with school starting.”
"One hour, forty minutes at least," Hoseok insists. "Why not try it once and if you don't like it, you don't have to do it again. I love you both and as a friend, I want to be here for you. Beats standing around and watching Taehyung kick our ass at golf. Just think about it and let me know. As I said, I'm always here for you bro."
Jungkook nods and reaches a hand out to gently squeeze Hoseok's shoulder. "I'll think about it. Thanks."
"Hey!" Taehyung waves from afar. "What you guys doing still up there? I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes! Don’t forget that last place buys lunch.”
“He’s referring to you Kook.” Hoseok chuckles, slaps Jungkook on the back, and walks down the golf course toward Taehyung. “You suck at golf.”
Jungkook grunts, following close behind. If this were a benching competition he’d be taking home the whole damn meal.
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With Jungkook still gone doing who knows what with his buddies you decide to blast your very wide array of music. It’s a good thing you and Jungkook live in your own house or else your poor neighbors would be knocking down the door with the landlord by now. Yes, that may or may not have happened once with you were in college.
Along with the music you stick true to your character and spread your art supplies on your drawing table. You had your own mini studio, thanks to your wonderful relator who helped find you the house. You reach for a pencil, spinning it between your fingers. Maybe you should finish the drawing of the park’s pond.
Mm, you don’t really feel like packing all your supplies and driving over right now.
Deciding to save it for another day, you ponder ideas of what to do instead. Should you try out your new watercolors? You bought them last week and while you weren’t exactly in low supply, if your husband can have a hundred scented candles you can have your paints.
bling–
You snatch your phone hearing the notification bell.
Jungkook: the rest of your morning going well? [sent at 11:03 a.m]
You smile faintly and type out a reply. Sweet to check in you suppose.
__: Fine. How are the guys? [sent at 11:04 a.m]
Jungkook: Whooping my ass but it’s alright. [sent at 11:07 a.m]
Good, you smirk. Jungkook is awful at golf. And he can stand to lose at something like the rest of you.
__: When are you coming home? [sent at 11:10 a.m]
Jungkook: Looking to wrap things up around 4 pm. I think we’re having a late lunch. Miss you. [sent at 11:13 a.m]
__: Okay, sounds good because I was thinking maybe we could go for ice cream when you get back. After dinner? miss you too [sent at 11:14 a.m]
You stare at the screen, waiting for a reply.
One minute goes by…
Two minutes…
Three…
Jungkook: Okay, sounds amazing. But why not before dinner? The place we like closes early on Sundays. I love you! [sent at 11:17 a.m]
Oh shoot, that’s right. You and Junkook have gone to the same ice cream shake since you first started dating. The couple who run it are super sweet, only a decade older. How could you forget?
__: I’m a dummy, yes we’ll go before dinner. I love you too [sent at 11:18 a.m]
Jungkook: Noo, you’re not a dummy! But okay, I’ll see you soon! [sent at 11:19 a.m]
Rejuvenated, you turn off your phone, jump off your art stool and crank the current song up–Runaway by Bon Jovi. Let’s see, you think, tearing a piece of watercolor paper from your drawing pad, what to do.
When the idea strikes you prepare water, paintbrushes, your palette, and anything else you may need for the next five hours give or take. You snatch your phone again and scroll through your photo gallery, hoping to get a good reference photo.
Your best friend’s birthday was two weeks away and she’s been subtly hinting for a painting of her, her fiancee’, and her dog Bear. As her closest friend and well-practiced artist, you think it is best to appease her request.
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Jungkook comes home at 4 pm on the dot. Not a minute later. He looks happy, you conclude. Genuinely happy. It looks good on him.
“__!” Jungkook runs through the front door and lifts you up in his arms. He spins you around and you place your hands on his shoulders. This is so unexpected but nice.
“Jungkook,” you struggle to catch your breath. “What’s going on?”
“I just love coming home to you.” He places you back down and grabs your wrist. “Come on, I wanna stuff you full with ice cream.”
“That sounds so weird,” you laugh.
“Why?” Jungkook opens the front door, ushering you to go ahead of him.
“Because…it sounds like you want to stuff me. Like in a weird way.”
“Woman, that cleared nothing up for me.” You hop into the car with stupid grins on your face. You don’t even know what you mean let alone having to explain to your husband. What can you say, Jungkook makes you a little braindead.
“I just mean that you wanting to stuff me with ice cream sounds like the witch from Hanzel and Gretel. You wanna fatten me up to eat me. Or taxidermy,….or Build a Bear.”
“What the fuck honey,” Jungkook curses, backing out of your drive. “Did you get into something funky while I was gone?”
“No what–ugh never mind.” You stare out the window, arms crossed and biting back the need to giggle uncontrollably. Why were you so giddy right now?
Jungkook glances over with amusement. He knows you’re inches away from balling over with laughter. “You know what honey?”
“Hmm?”
“I think instead of stuffing you full of ice cream, I’m gonna stuff you full with something just as good.”
“Don’t say it Kook, don’t. I’m going to bust a gut.” You beg fully aware he’s not about to back down.
“My fucking cawk,” he says, making sure to exaggerate the last part.
You throw a hand over your mouth, tears well up in your eyes and this time, they’re not sad ones.
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You pull up at the small, but charming ice cream stand at around 4:20 pm. It’s a decent crowd tonight.
You and Jungkook get out of the car with laced hands. You’ve managed to calm down now, thankfully. As you make your way to the line a small voice catches both your attention.
“Appa!” A little girl with blue ribbons in her hair runs past you. She looks between eight to ten years old. You and Jungkook follow her movement as she leaps up into her father’s arms.
You smile at the interaction. Her father kisses her cheek and chuckles as she shows him her ribbons. She looks like she’s telling a very eventful story.
Beside you, Jungkook stiffens. His eyes set on the pair but you’re unsure what he’s thinking. “Kook?” you say, but he doesn’t respond. You shake his hand, the one laced in yours, but still no response. It’s when you step in front of his view that you get him back.
“Hey,” you say. “Are you okay?”
Jungkook blinks at you and shakes his head a bit. “I’m good, sorry. Not sure what happened there. Must be a bit out of it today. Let’s go get some ice cream.”
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A/N: I like this series vv much...thank you to anyone reading :) Lmk your thoughts and if you wanna be tagged comment or send me an ask!
Taglist:
@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper
Masterlist
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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chronicallycouchbound · 9 months
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Intelligence Doesn't Equal Morality
Intellect is rooted in ableist systems and stupidity and intelligence are pointless social constructs that don't relate to morals or character.
I try to be a pretty good person, I fight for human rights, I regularly engage in mutual aid, and I care for my community. I try to do the right thing and support causes I care about and make positive changes in the world.
But I also am not very smart. I have several neurodevelopmental disorders, as well as cognitive disabilities. I can’t do simple, basic math, it’s hard for me to remember facts or algorithms, I rely entirely on spellcheck and speech-to-text to write, I failed many classes in high school and I barely passed with a low GPA, I had low pSAT scores and I never took the SATs. I moved around a lot all through school starting in third grade, and I missed a lot of basic fundamentals in learning (like how to do division and multiplication) so when I went to a different school they had already passed it and expected me to know. After my TBI, I could barely read AFTER I was cleared from my “concussion” symptoms because letters and words would flip around and I’d get headaches. Which still happens sometimes.
A lot of people see me as smart because I've learned a lot of academic language and can formulate thoughts into cohesive posts. But I lack a lot of necessary skills and rely on my caretakers to assist me. Things like budgeting and planning are extremely difficult for me. If I need to do simple addition or subtraction, even with a calculator, I quickly get confused and struggle. I forget basic information about myself all the time, let alone other subjects. I'm talking, has to check my ID for my birthday type confused. Doesn't know my name or address or what year it is confused. It happens daily, sometimes multiple times a day. Being able to type out posts like this often takes weeks and many adaptive tools to get there. Focusing is extremely difficult on many fronts, severe chronic pain, ADHD, dissociation, fatigue, migraines, and TBI, are just some of the contributing factors. I struggle daily with many things because of my lack of intellect.
I’m also privileged in the fact that I had some access to education as a homeless youth, that I had some supports in place to help me (towards the end of school), that I was somewhat able-bodied at the time and could walk or bike to and from school when the school system didn’t provide transportation. I was fortunate to have a chance to succeed, and I’m proud that I graduated high school because it was a difficult task for me, and others often aren’t offered that chance or get accommodations. I almost didn’t and I dropped out many times before graduation. I passed on sheer luck and what little privileges I had. 
That all being said, me being stupid (reclaiming it here) doesn't make me a bad person. I don't hurt people because I can't do math. I may mess up things or get confused but it doesn't make me want to harm others.
We often (wrongfully) equate morals with intellect. Being ‘stupid’, ‘dumb’, or an ‘idiot’ doesn’t automatically make someone a bad person. Plenty of evil, awful, and abusive people are extremely intelligent. 
I see this most notably with people advocating for IQ tests to be able to vote. Often from left-leaning people, in hopes it'll make the right (that they view as unintelligent), unable to vote. The reality is, it just hurts some of our most vulnerable members of the community while not actively doing anything to restrict some of the most dangerous members of our community-- those who know what they're doing to harm others and deliberately doing so. My voice matters, and I speak up against injustice and participate in dismantling oppressive systems. Taking away my right to vote won't make the right stop oppressing minorities (which also puts a lot of faith into the two-party voting system, which is a post for another day).
Additionally, legislative measures that discriminate against intellectually disabled people such as IQ tests for voting are also rooted in racism and classism. 
Yes, education can be a vital tool when it comes to addressing discrimination and creating safer communities. But the kind of education that is measured with an IQ test (or any test) isn't the same. Building compassion and caring for others can (and should) happen at any IQ level. We can all practice this, we can all participate.
It harms our communities and stagnates our progress when we equate intelligence with high morals.
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helloalycia · 1 month
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 [𝐎𝐍𝐄] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑
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two / three / masterlist / wattpad
summary: after you step in to defend Jackie against one of her boyfriend's sleazy friends, you realise helping the popular girl and starting beef with a jock has its consequences.
warnings: mentions of sexual assault, minor violence and underage drinking.
author's note: i keep getting people asking about posting more jackie stuff so i’m happy to share yet another fic! it’s three parts and it’s the last thing for now that i’ve written for her, so i hope you all like it 🥰
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I collapsed on the grass outside, breathing out with relief once the fresh night air cooled me down and the music from inside wasn't so loud anymore. How I'd let Van convince me to attend a house party was beyond me, but as my best friend, she usually got her way.
Tonight though, I may have gotten a little carried away and drank more than usual, feeling somewhat lightheaded and lazy. Drunk me wasn't so fun, so I'd come outside to cool off and catch myself, away from the compact house of some jock I didn't know.
As I relaxed, trying to tune out the few teens that were milling around the front lawn, I heard a commotion by the front door. Some couple were arguing, their voices familiar as they left the house and grew louder.
"–can't just check out other girls right in front of me!"
"I wasn't! God, you're overreacting, Jackie, you always do this!"
I sat upright, pushing my hair from my eyes as I glanced in the direction of Van's soccer teammate and the most popular girl in our grade, Jackie Taylor, arguing with her boyfriend, Jeff Sadecki.
The last thing I cared about was their relationship troubles, but they were so damn loud and I was suddenly entertained by their back and forth. From what I could gather in my drunken state, Jeff had been distracted by some girls, flirting with one of them, but didn't deem it flirting like Jackie did.
"–just forget it, we're over!" Jackie shouted at him, throwing her cup on the grass with frustration.
Jeff scoffed. "Whatever. I don't need this."
He returned to the house as Jackie clenched her jaw, still angry. She fumbled for a cigarette and lighter from her purse with irritation, her clumsy hands betraying how much she'd drank tonight too. Thoughtlessly watching, I saw one of Jeff's friends, Leroy something-or-the-other, trail out the house and approach her.
Not shouting like Jeff and Jackie had been a moment ago, the two of them were talking and I couldn't hear their conversation. Or rather Leroy was chatting up Jackie and she was visibly uncomfortable, attempting to step back. He began to get touchy though, his hands grabbing her arm, and whether it was a sense of female camaraderie or my absolutely stupid alcohol-soaked brain, I felt the need to intervene.
Dragging myself up off the grass, I stumbled over to them and fixed Leroy with a glare.
"She clearly doesn't want you here," I said in what I hoped wasn't a babble of English.
"Back off, bitch," Leroy sneered at me, before stepping closer to Jackie and letting his hand slip to her butt.
Jackie jumped at his unwanted touch, hazel eyes widened with panic, and without thinking, I made a swing at Leroy's face, fist connecting with his nose in a sickening crack.
A groan escaped my lips as I grasped my hand – what the fuck was his face made of?! – and then I realised what I did as he stumbled back, clutching his face. I saw a glimpse of blood, and then Jackie's widened eyes looked between us, and I knew I was fucked.
"You little bitch!" he shouted, before making a sloppy swing at my head, to which I thankfully still had the instinct to duck away from.
Not ready to finish this fight I definitely didn't mean to start, I shoved him back to buy time then grabbed Jackie's hand, telling her quickly, "Time to go!"
Thankfully she got the hint and I yanked her away, the two of us running as fast as we could. Leroy chased after us and I risked glancing over my shoulder, watching him trip over his own feet and buying us enough time to leg it down the street.
"Here," I said breathlessly, pulling Jackie down behind a car.
The two of us practically held our breath as we kneeled down, frozen in place. I didn't doubt that Leroy would kill me, and her by association, and I began to wonder how I'd even ended up in this situation.
Jackie risked glancing around the back of the car before sighing with relief. "He's not following us."
Mirroring her sigh, I turned around and sank to the ground fully, back against the car. She joined my side, both of us reeling from what happened. I glanced down at my hand, aware that it should be hurting but not quite registering the pain. It was distant, the alcohol fogging my mind.
"What the hell was that?" Jackie asked, reminding me she was there.
Dazed, I tilted my head and stared at the road. "That wasn't your boyfriend, was it? I can't remember."
She let out a breath before giggling. "No. That was my ex-boyfriend's idiot friend."
Making sense of it all again, I nodded. "Right. Yeah. What a dick."
"Yeah," she agreed.
Feeling hot and a little dizzy, I tried to focus on the present and looked over at her. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, her curled blonde hair bouncing as she did. "Yeah. Thanks to you." Hazel eyes flickered to mine in gratitude, and I could only shrug in response.
A silence fell upon us for a moment, and I suddenly became aware of how this was probably the most I'd ever spoken to Jackie Taylor in my life. We'd been in the same class since we were kids, and despite her being on the same soccer team as Van, there had never been need for us to converse. Until now, I guess.
"I feel sick," she suddenly said, and I noticed her face was a little pale.
"Then throw up," I said tiredly.
She scrunched her face with disgust, shaking her head. I shrugged, not caring, and then she leaned to the left and threw up a little. I pulled a face as she straightened up lazily, wiping her mouth.
"I've gotta go home," she said.
I checked my watch, but it did nothing to help because the hands were moving in all sorts of directions. "Same. I think."
She began to snicker, glancing sideways at me. "Leroy just might kill you."
A little delusional and finding her amusement contagious, I began to laugh. Leroy probably would, but right now, I couldn't care less.
She lifted a finger in the air with realisation. "Shauna," she exclaimed. "She'll drive."
"I can't leave Van," I remembered, as she stood up and yanked me up with her.
"I'll go get her," she promised, already tugging me back to the house, where Shauna's car was parked out front. "Don't move."
I saluted clumsily, waiting by Shauna's car and almost falling asleep against the door as Jackie seemed to take years to return. Finally, her, Van and Shauna all came back, Van shooting me an amused glance as she helped me off the door.
"What the hell happened to you?" she asked with a stifled laugh. "Jackie said you punched Leroy?"
I waved a dismissive hand. "Barely."
She definitely wanted to know more but thankfully kept quiet as she helped me into the backseat, sliding in beside me.
"You two are gonna regret this in the morning," Shauna was saying from the driver's seat, but it went in one ear and out the other.
I vaguely remembered Shauna dropping me off home and Van helping me into my bedroom later that evening before passing out.
The next morning, my hangover hit me hard, but not harder than the pain from my broken knuckle. After waking up with a purple right hand, terrible memories from the night before reminded me of what I'd done, and after accepting that Leroy was going to kill me at some point, I went to the hospital with my mum who didn't seem to believe I'd punched a wall whilst drunk. Still, leaving with a splint and cast on my hand was worth it if it meant stopping some jerk from getting handsy.
School on the following Monday was definitely something to dread, mainly because I wasn't sure what would happen. Of course, after getting some stares off other students – word had undoubtedly spread about the incident – I stopped by my locker and was mildly surprised to see the word 'BITCH' scribbled in permanent marker pen across it.
"Lovely," I said sarcastically, before ignoring it, not wanting to give bystanders a show.
I opened it as usual and put my skateboard inside, mindful of my hand, when I felt someone bump into me from behind on purpose. I clenched my jaw when I turned and saw it was Leroy walking past, a bandage across his nose.
"Bitch," he muttered with bitterness.
"Yours truly." I returned his glare, before looking back to my locker.
If he was going to hate on me for stepping in as he sexually assaulted a girl, then let him. I'd never liked him anyway, the worst of Jeff's idiot friends. But hey, at least I'd broken his nose.
I'd like to say it ended there, but not even a moment later, his girlfriend whom I'd forgotten existed until she appeared by my side with a threatening glare, decided to defend his stupid arse.
"You better back off," she attempted to warn me. "I know it was you who broke his nose."
I quirked a brow with disbelief. "Do you know why?"
She scoffed. "Because you're a bitch."
I furrowed my brows, wondering if she was choosing to be this dense. "Tiffany, your arsehole boyfriend groped another girl."
She rolled her eyes. "Like I'd believe you."
I snorted with amusement. "Fine. Don't. I really don't care."
She stepped closer to me with narrowed eyes. "Stay the fuck away from us, bitch."
I rolled my eyes as she left, wondering how I'd managed to make so many enemies in the space of one night. Unfazed though, I continued to grab some books from my locker and ignored the looks I was getting from students with nothing better to do. This would all blow over in a few days, I just knew it.
When I closed my locker, I jumped, startled, when I saw Jackie stood behind it.
"Jesus," I said, clutching my chest. "A warning would be nice."
"Sorry," she said awkwardly, before her eyes fell to the cast on my hand and widened slightly. "Fuck."
"Hi to you too," I replied sarcastically.
She shook her head apologetically before meeting my gaze. "Friday night. That was... a lot."
I nodded, just as uncomfortable as she sounded. "Uh huh."
She pursed her lips, glancing at my graffiti'd locker. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen. But I'm thankful for your help. You really showed him."
Not wanting her to feel bad, I tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, his brick head kind of broke my knuckle, but it was totally worth it."
She cracked a small smile, eyes flickering to my hand again. "Sorry."
I shrugged her apology off easily. "Seriously, Jackie, you don't need to say anything. Honestly, we were both drunk and I probably could have handled the situation better, but what's done is done. We're good."
She relaxed a little, nodding in agreement, though I couldn't tell if she was satisfied by my response. When she didn't say anything, I held my books to my chest awkwardly.
"So... see you in class," I said.
"Right," she agreed, and then we both turned to walk to class, only to fall into step with one another. "Same class," she mumbled when she noticed, and I tried not to laugh.
"Same class," I agreed, and a silence fell between us as we reached the classroom.
After exchanging a final glance, we split off to our seats, her joining Shauna's side as I found my usual spot next to Van. When she spotted me, she was already laughing at the sight of my bandaged hand.
"I can't believe you punched him," she said instantly, making me roll my eyes.
"Glad this is funny to you," I said playfully, giving her a disapproving look.
She continued to tease me. "I leave you alone for five minutes, Y/N! God, I wish I could've seen it. Everybody's talking about it. Apparently you broke Leroy's nose."
"Something like that," I mumbled as she laughed with amazement.
She continued to ramble about what people had been saying, enjoying how awkward I was at the attention, and I let my eyes wander around the classroom as I tried to tune her out. They subconsciously drifted to Jackie, who was listening to something Shauna was saying to her, and then she glanced at me and I quickly looked away, embarrassed I'd been caught.
I was relieved to see that the graffiti on my locker had been scrubbed off (terribly, but I wasn't complaining) by the cleaners last night, as when I showed up to school the next morning, it was gone. My headphones were on as I replaced my books for the morning, mindlessly getting ready for homeroom.
There was nothing out of the ordinary as I did, my eyes glancing around casually, and then I saw Jackie a little ways down the hall, leaning against the lockers with her apparently-not-so-ex-boyfriend, Jeff. I couldn't care less, but she must have felt my eyes as she awkwardly made eye contact, smile fading slightly, and I looked away. Whether she was back with Jeff or not wasn't my business – she was barely a friend, let alone someone whose relationship I cared for – but it felt strange knowing she would choose to go back to him after everything that had happened.
Once I'd grabbed my books, I pulled my headphones off and stuffed them and my walkman into my backpack. I was forced to walk past a flirtatious Jackie and Jeff, eyes trained ahead, and tried not to think much more on it as I went to homeroom.
I settled at my desk, flicking through my English book when I saw Van wasn't here yet, and began to look over my homework a final time before next period. In my own world, I was startled when someone appeared at my desk, looking up to see Jackie stood there.
"Er... hi?" I greeted with a quirked brow.
She swallowed awkwardly, looking uncomfortable. "What you saw just then, with Jeff and I..."
When she didn't continue, I pressed, "What?"
"It's not like it seems," she finished, cheeks tinged pink.
I wasn't sure why she felt the need to explain herself to me of all people, but I answered, "What, that you're back together?"
She pressed her lips together, nodding slightly.
Tilting my head and playing along, I asked, "Well, are you?"
She cleared her throat. "Well, yeah, but–"
"Cool," I cut her off, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "It's none of my business."
She scoffed slightly. "Yeah, but you're gonna think I'm being stupid after everything that happened–"
Growing tired of this conversation, I said, "Being stupid? You think I think it's stupid that your boyfriend was flirting with other girls and then his friend sexually assaulted you and you're still going back to him?" I tutted sarcastically. "Nah, not stupid at all."
She tensed her jaw slightly, clutching her books to her chest. "It's not like that."
I raised my eyebrows. "Then why are you telling me? You've never cared what I thought before."
She let out a low groan, having no reply, and simply walked away to her seat. Okay, so maybe I was being a little harsh, but it was just odd that she suddenly cared what I thought. And yes, I was judging her terrible life choices, but it wasn't my business.
It didn't matter anyway. I wasn't expecting this to be much of a problem now that she'd (terribly) explained herself to me.
Maybe I underestimated how long jocks could hold grudges for, or maybe I was just stupid for not knowing Leroy would never let things go. All I knew was that my one punch was never letting me live it down, nor letting me go back to being just acquaintances with Jackie Taylor.
About a week after Jackie felt the need to explain her getting back together with Jeff, I was skateboarding home from school like I always did. The crossing on the road was clear, so I started to ride across, headphones on my head as I did. I saw a car in my peripheral vision, but it was further down the road and they could obviously see me, so I thought nothing of it.
That was until it suddenly beeped and stopped right next to me, scaring the shit out of me and making my foot catch the ground, my skateboard slipping out from under me. Heart racing in my chest, I pulled my headphones from my head and sat up, just in time to hear a voice I definitely didn't want to.
"Watch out, loser!"
I looked to my left to see Jeff and Leroy laughing in Jeff's car, impressed with themselves and their ability to startle me. But the real frustration kicked in when I saw Jackie sat in the passenger's seat, flushed red with embarrassment and guilt as she glanced at me. Why was I not surprised?
Clenching my jaw, I stood up and ignored their laughter, instead grabbing my skateboard and finishing crossing the road. They beeped again as they drove off, but I didn't bother sparing them a glance.
My opinion on Jackie Taylor up until this point was practically nonexistent. In my eyes, she was just some popular girl in school who was nice enough to everyone, kind to my best friend who happened to be on the same soccer team as her, and that was it. We rarely crossed paths or spoke, and I'd never thought about her other than if she was right in front of me.
Now, however, she seemed to be in my life a lot more because of one stupid night, and I found my opinion of her worsening as I judged her poor choice of boyfriend and those she surrounded herself with.
The next day at school, almost to my amusement if I wasn't so irritated by everything that had happened, Jackie found me in homeroom at my desk again. I had a strong sense of deja vu as she hovered before me, uncharacteristically nervous.
"Hey," she spoke first.
I blinked, expressionless, definitely not in the mood for this. "Hi."
It took her a moment to find her words, in which I was growing a little more annoyed by her apparent innocence.
"Yesterday...," she started, "I didn't mean for–"
"What?" I interrupted. "Your jackass boyfriend and his jackass friend to act like jackasses?"
She sighed. "Yeah."
Was she always this irritating? I couldn't remember anymore.
"It's cool, Jackie," I decided to end the conversation, afraid I'd say something I'd regret. "I didn't expect anything less from tweedle-dumb and tweedle-dumber."
I looked back down to my notebook, hoping she'd leave and we could be done with our lives, but she felt the need to keep going.
"He's not always like that," she said gently. "I swear, he–"
"Did you come here just to defend him?" I asked with surprise. "Because I don't wanna hear it."
She frowned, irritable. "No, I just– I wanted you to know that."
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Great apology. Thanks."
Clenching her jaw slightly, she said, "If you gave me a chance to speak, I'd say it."
"Whatever," I mumbled, rolling my eyes and returning my attention to my book.
She huffed with disapproval, making me glance at her with a slight glare. Her playing innocent game was getting old.
"FYI, if you're dating a jackass, that kinda makes you one too," I reminded her when she didn't leave.
She returned my glare before turning on her heel and leaving for her desk. Van soon showed up, taking her seat beside me but noticing the blonde leaving.
"Jackie still on you about your hand?" she asked with amusement. "I keep telling her to get over it, that you're okay. But she feels bad."
I rolled my eyes at the mention of her. "Can't feel that bad if she's still hanging around with douche one and douche two."
Taken aback, Van gave me a look. "Woah, who shit in your cereal this morning?"
I shook my head dismissively, releasing a breath. "Sorry. Nothing. Just tired, I guess."
She clearly didn't believe me, and when I looked up at her, I saw her glancing over to where Jackie was sat, but I refused to look that way. Van smiled in that direction though, greeting her teammate, before giving me a confused look.
"Did you guys fight or something? She looks like you kicked her dog."
"No," I said with mild irritation, before facing forward. "Can we drop this?"
Van chuckled quietly. "Sure, weirdo."
Later that day, I was staring out the window in Chemistry class whilst I waited for other students to make their way in and for class to start. When I felt a presence beside me, I assumed it was my lab partner, Dennis, and straightened up to greet him with a smile, but then I saw it was Jackie placing her bag on the desk and pulling out the stool.
"The hell are you doing?" I asked with furrowed brows, watching as she got comfortable. "Dennis sits there."
"Not today he doesn't," she said knowingly, before waving a hand to Dennis who waved some cash in the air with gratitude.
I dropped my jaw with disbelief. "You paid him?"
She turned to face me, her honey-coloured eyes meeting mine guiltily. "I want to say sorry for real. The only reason you're getting all this aggression from Leroy is because you stuck up for me."
I gave her a sarky look. "Kind of, yeah."
She sighed, rolling her shoulders back. "Well, I'm sorry. I didn't even want Leroy there yesterday, but he needed a ride home and Jeff said yeah. It's no excuse though."
I pressed my lips together, eyes studying her straight face curiously. There was a hint of sincerity somewhere there, and maybe finally putting this to bed would bring things back to normal. But then a smile grew on her lips and any chance of forgiving her went out the window.
"This doesn't make me a jackass now, does it?"
I lifted my brows with disbelief, her pride frustrating me. "Wow. Is that what this is about?"
She shook her head. "No. Of course not. But you should know that I'm not like that."
"Is the only reason you're apologising to change the way I view you?"
Again, she shook her head nonchalantly, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Maybe she was nice on the surface, but Jackie Taylor didn't seem genuine in the slightest.
"You know what? Fuck this," I told her, beginning to pack my books away. "I don't need to forgive you and I don't need your fake apologies or games. Just leave me alone. Things were a lot easier before I decided to be nice to you."
She watched me gather my things with bewilderment. "That's not fair."
I stood up and shot her an impatient look. "Whatever. You stick to your delusional princess land with your dick boyfriend and his friends and I'll stick to being a loser. Sound good?"
Her mouth opened with surprise, both offended and taken aback. "Y/N, just– where are you going?"
"To find my actual lab partner," I snapped, before moving past her to find Dennis.
I was beginning to think breaking my knuckle wasn't worth it. Getting involved with Jackie only seemed to bring me misfortune.
A few days passed with Jackie finally seeming to leave me alone. Don't get me wrong, I would occasionally catch her eyes in the hallway or in class, or sometimes she'd need to chat to Van about something and I'd awkwardly wait for her to finish before she'd leave, but she seemed to give up on bothering me with her half arsed apologies.
As for Leroy and his girlfriend, they clearly still held some sort of grudge for me, shooting me glares whenever they saw me. It got to a point where they seriously needed to get over themselves, though I guess that was hard when Leroy's broken nose was a constant reminder that he got decked in the face by a girl.
I was walking down the hallway when I resisted the urge to roll my eyes upon seeing Leroy and Tiffany walking in the opposite direction. I purposely avoided their gaze, not wanting to get into a confrontation with them, but Leroy purposely bumped into my shoulder with force, making me drop my books, and that was my last straw.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I exclaimed, before picking up my books.
"What did you just say?" Leroy stopped, turning around to fix me with a glare.
I clenched my jaw as I returned it twice as hostile. "You really need to grow up. Your big rock of a head is still in tact, so what's your problem? You think you'd get over this by now."
He looked like he wanted to punch me, but Tiffany stepped forward instead.
"Watch your mouth, bitch," she hissed, making me groan loudly with disbelief.
"He literally harassed another girl, and probably others too!" I reminded her. "Are you insane?!"
"Don't listen to her," Leroy said to her coolly. "She's just jealous."
"I know, baby, I know."
I laughed bitterly, looking between them like they were the world's strangest exhibit. Bystanders were starting to look at the three of us now, probably expecting a fight, but I seriously didn't care.
"You need to get a life and stay out of ours, loser," Leroy threatened me, fist clenching by his side.
"How fucking ironic," I said, shaking my head. "You're the one who won't get over yourself."
"You keep running that mouth of yours and I'll give you a broken nose," Tiffany attempted to threaten me, stepping forward, but she wasn't intimidating in the slightest. "You deserve it after hurting him."
I snorted with amusement. "I would love to see you try." When she squeezed her fists by her side, I glanced at her stupid boyfriend. "What? Can't fight your own battles, big man?"
Steam was practically leaving their ears as they glowered at me, and then the next events happened too quickly for me to make sense of.
Jackie came out of nowhere and stepped between Tiffany and I, saying, "Okay, how about we just–"
But Tiffany punched forward, aiming for me but Jackie got in the way at the same time and Tiffany's fist landed on her face. My eyes widened as Jackie stumbled back into me, clutching her nose, and both Tiffany and Leroy watched on with wide eyes.
"What the fuck?!" I shouted, before holding Jackie upright as I went to look over her face. When I moved her hand away slightly, there was blood streaming from her nose and I couldn't help but exclaim, "Oh my god!"
"What the hell, Jackie!" Tiffany cried out, holding her hand with pain.
"Are you kidding right now?!" Jackie retorted before wincing and holding her nose again, head tilted up to stop the bleeding.
"Okay, everyone move aside!" a teacher pushed through the crowd of entertained students surrounding us. When she spotted Jackie's bleeding nose, she said, "Miss Taylor, you need to go to the nurse's office–"
"I'll take her," I said quickly, before fixing Tiffany with a glare.
"You," the teacher continued, looking to Tiffany, "with me, now."
I didn't wait any longer to watch the death stares from Leroy and Tiffany, instead guiding Jackie to the nurse's office. I still couldn't believe she'd stepped in like that, and also that Tiffany had it in her to punch me. I didn't think she'd actually do it.
"Oh my god, it's running down my throat," Jackie whined with disgust, looking forward again. "I'm gonna be sick."
"Ssshhh, we're almost there," I cut her complaining off, though a large part of me felt extremely guilty.
When we reached the nurse's office, I immediately guided her to the bed to sit upright, whilst the nurse seemed to catch on and immediately jumped into action. I stood back and watched as the nurse gave her some gauze to hold to her nose.
"Is it broken?" Jackie asked with wet eyes, a little dramatically.
"No, dear, it's just a bloody nose," the nurse assured her, before glancing at me. "There's not much else I can do. Just keep changing the gauze and have her drink some water."
I nodded. "Will do. Thanks."
She offered a smile before heading to the other side of the room to finish helping out another student. I watched her leave before joining Jackie's bedside and looking to her with disbelief.
"What the fuck was that?!" I asked.
She moved the gauze so it wasn't blocking her mouth and motioned to her face. "I was trying to stop this from happening."
"A little fucking late," I said sarcastically.
"I figured," she snapped, before her face scrunched up with pain and she closed her eyes momentarily.
My jaw slowly relaxed as I really took the state of her in. The guilt pressed down on my chest – this wasn't her fight and she was certainly not the type of girl to get into one in the first place. Seeing her bloody nose and stained shirt was like seeing a puppy get kicked, and my irritation definitely wasn't helping.
"You shouldn't have got involved," I said with a sigh, sitting at the edge of her bed.
She opened her eyes, bright hazel ones swimming with guilt. "I just wanted to make things right. Show you that I really am sorry. It's not about how you view me and it's not a game. I'm just sorry."
Unlike the last time, she seemed genuine with her apology, and paired with her puppy dog eyes and bloody nose, it was hard for me not to give in.
"Fuck, fine, I forgive you," I breathed out.
She began to smile with relief before leaning back slightly. I frowned, eyes flickering over her guiltily, before I grabbed the spare gauze at her bedside and gently replaced the one in her hand.
"It looks like it's stopping," I said, disposing of the bloody gauze. "God, you're insane."
"It fucking hurts," she cursed, grimacing.
I tried not to smile as I wet a cloth in the bowl beside her bed. "It was barely a real punch. Tiffany's hand took most of the damage."
She narrowed her eyes at me as I began to wipe the dried-up blood from her nose and mouth with the wet cloth. "Tell that to my face."
A small smile of amusement broke out on my lips. "This was stupid, Jackie."
She sighed, removing the gauze so I could clean around her nostrils. "Probably."
The bridge of her nose was a little swollen and bright red, but at least the bleeding had stopped. God, as if Jackie Taylor got punched in the face for me. I literally never could have predicted that.
Once I cleaned her up, the nurse returned to give her some painkillers and an ice pack before making arrangements for her to be picked up from school.
"I'm sorry, I'd drive you home myself, but I don't have a car," I said with an apologetic smile.
She shook her head. "It's okay. You already stayed with me longer than you needed to. I'm just glad things are good between us again."
I exhaled softly, surprised that she cared this much. We were indifferent to one another, that was our thing. Whether it was because she felt she owed me after I broke my knuckle, or she was just trying to prove that she wasn't a bad person, I was left wondering why she was going through all this effort for a friendship that barely existed.
After she went home, it was easy to say that word of the fiasco spread around school like wildfire. Tiffany had been given a month of detention apparently, and I didn't see Leroy for the rest of the day, thankfully. Van found me after school, the two of us planning to walk home together, and that was where I debriefed her about everything that happened.
"Holy shit, what I would pay to see Jackie get decked in the face!" she exclaimed with a grin.
I quirked a brow. "Aren't you literally teammates?"
"Not in a mean way," she added quickly. "Like, it would still be funny though. Funnier if it was you, of course."
I shoved her in the arm with my good hand as she chuckled.
"I feel bad enough as it is, so no jokes," I warned her.
"Hey, it's not your fault," she assured me with a knowing look, before pausing and adding, "Though if someone says they're gonna punch you in the face, you probably shouldn't tell them you'd love to see them try."
I tried not to laugh as I shot her a look. "How was I supposed to know she'd actually do it?"
Van began to laugh again. "God, I wish I was there."
"You've only said a million times," I said with a disapproving stare, though a smile tugged at my lips.
Despite the jokes Van wouldn't stop making on the walk home, I still felt extremely guilty and couldn't stop thinking about poor Jackie. How our lives had become so intertwined in the space of two weeks was beyond me, but I suddenly felt responsible for her.
The next day at school, I saw her by her locker with Shauna before homeroom. Even from a distance, I could make out the slight swelling on her nose and it only deepened the guilt I felt. We'd technically resolved everything between us yesterday, but I felt the need to go over there and check on her to see how she was doing.
After dropping some stuff off at my locker, I went over to her and Shauna with a small smile. They noticed me and their conversation ceased, the two of them returning my smile with their own.
"Hey," Shauna greeted first.
I nodded her way before my eyes settled on Jackie, and Shauna seemed to get the hint as she politely dismissed herself, leaving us alone.
"Hey," Jackie greeted warmly.
"Hi," I said, eyes scanning her face. "How's the–?" I gestured to my own nose as I asked.
"Hurts," she admitted with a small smile, "but I covered the bruising. It's still a little swollen, but it'll be fine."
I frowned guiltily when I noticed the extra makeup she'd used to cover the red-purple bruise that had formed on the bridge of her nose. She'd done a good job, but it was still peeking through a little bit.
"It's okay," she said when she noticed my expression, before lightheartedly nodding to my bandaged hand. "Consider us even."
That didn't make me feel better at all, and I shook my head. "It shouldn't have happened. As Van kindly pointed out to me, I egged Tiffany on and she was supposed to punch me. It's not the same thing as me stepping in to defend you."
Jackie rolled her eyes playfully. "It's okay, Y/N, really. Besides, maybe her and Leroy will finally back off now."
I hummed, partially agreeing, though I knew this was still my fault.
"By the way," she added, "I broke up with Jeff."
At this, I raised my eyebrows with surprise. "What?"
Her lips pressed together into a faint smile as she looked down. "Yeah, you were right about what you said. He and his friends are jackasses. And I can do a lot better."
I wasn't sure what to say at first, not expecting her to have actually listened to what I said. But then I nodded slightly, acknowledging her words.
"You can," I found myself saying. "Do a lot better, I mean."
She breathed out with amusement. "Thanks... anyway, I should get my things, but see you in class."
"Yeah, see you," I said, still a little shocked, but nodding nonetheless.
164 notes · View notes
snowyquokka · 1 month
Note
Hi gorgeous 💞
I honestly love you work, thank you so much ❤️
If it's not too much to ask but my birthday is on 14th March so can you write a hyunjin x f reader smut +fluff with him giving reader his birthday gift for her (surprise me with your writing)?
I would really appreciate it 🥺
Bye 👋
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SYMPHONIES
cw: mature content MDNI, fem reader, oral *f receiving, swearing, friends to lovers, no aftercare shown but is implied
wc: 1.3k
a.n - happy birthday beautiful!! i hope this was a good enough present <3
✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧
12:00 AM
Tons of DMs, calls and texts erupt on your phone simultaneously, wishing you a happy birthday. Everyone but the one you wanted most.
Is it wrong to be in love with your best friend since the sixth grade? To a normal person, maybe, but to you it’s the reality you’re forced to live.
4:00 AM
Did he forget? You can’t blame him; he is an idol after all and he’s probably exhausted. At this point the group chat you are in with all the guys is blowing up to the point where you had to silence it once you realized that Hyunjin wasn’t responding or jumping in the conversation.
CHILDREN OF CHAN
|lixie - happy birthday cutie
|hanji - HAPPY BIRTHDAY
|hanji - get ready to party bitch. it’s on
|seungmo - im not getting stuck with han’s shitfaced ass this time
|minhoe - it’s only like one in the morning and you’re already plotting?
|innie - felix get back on league
|channie - im trying to sleep
|seungmo - put your phone on silent then old man
|seungmo - nvm you probably dont know how at ur jurassic age
You let out a small laugh and bite your lip, contemplating if you should thank them or not. Ultimately deciding against it and telling yourself that you’ll do it when you wake up, you turn off your phone and roll over onto your side, soundlessly falling asleep.
10:00 AM
There’s a knock at the door, startling you out of yet another poor attempt at sleeping. You hop out of bed sluggishly and make your way to the living room. To your surprise, Hyunjin is leaning against the doorway, having let himself in with the emergency key you gave him when you first moved in.
“Just in case,” He insisted, “What if something happens and you need me? Or vice versa.” The fact that you believed that would be the only scenario he used it for seemed a bit foolish as he visited more and more.
You spot a somewhat large box, royal blue with a red ribbon on top, in Hyunjin’s hands. He smiles and pushes off the doorway. “I’m sorry to intrude like that, you weren’t answering your phone.” He says when he reaches you.
You shrug, “It’s okay. I was only sleeping.” Hyunjin nods and places the box in your hands with a sly grin, “Open,” He gestures towards the box. You move to the couch and take the lid off the box. The first thing on top is your very own Jiniret. “So you stop kidnapping my child,” Hyunjin laughs and slides onto the couch next to you. The next thing you pull out is an all black hoodie and when you turn it around you see Hyunjin’s name on the back. The small gesture shouldn’t cause butterflies to emerge in your stomach, but it does to your dismay.
You take out the rest of the stuff (a few small fake plants, Versace perfume that you scold him for buying for you, and a couple of his PCs sprinkled in between everything). You finally reach the bottom and furrow your eyebrows when you pull out a blindfold. You look at Hyunjin whose expression has morphed into something mischievous. He moves the box out of your lap and takes the blindfold out of your hands before tying it around your head, obstructing your vision.
“C’mon, stand up.” You do and Hyunjin slides his hand in yours, guiding you somewhere.
After a few moments you assume you’ve reached your bedroom, the smell of your favorite candle filling the air. The door clicks behind you and now you’re hyper aware of Hyunjin’s presence.
“Why are we in my room, Jin?” Instead of answering you, he runs his fingers delicately down your bare forearms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake.
“I think we can both agree that we have more than just a normal friendship, don’t you think?” Hyunjin’s voice has noticeably dropped, causing shivers to wrack your body. Your heartbeat quickens so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. “I asked you a question, baby.”
Are you dreaming? You must be dreaming. There is absolutely no way you aren’t. He would never say anything like this. Right? Right. You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Hyunjin places his hands on your hips and presses you flush against his body.
Maybe you aren’t dreaming, judging by the very real, sizable erection digging into your stomach. “Hyunjin I-” You aren’t too sure what to say except to agree with him. He walks you back to the bed and gently lets you down, climbing over you soon after.
“Are you sure?” You know for sure that he would never lie about something like this, especially with you. You’re asking yourself more than you are him.
He toys with the hem of your shirt, “May I?” You nod and raise your arms as he lifts it over your head before immediately attaching his lips to your neck. Hyunjin nips at your shoulder and collar bone before making his way down to your breasts. “Do you want this?”
“Yes, please.” You whine. He unclasps your bra and throws it somewhere. His mouth attacks your right breast, his other hand massaging the other. Your back arches in pleasure and you can’t help but let out a groan. How can’t you when Hwang fucking Hyunjin has his pretty pink lips wrapped around your nipple.
“Fuck, baby. You make the sexiest sounds.” Hyunjin drops to his knees, pulling your shorts and panties down with him. His mouth waters at the sight of his index finger being swallowed whole by your tight heat.
“Holy shit,” You say breathlessly. You raise your hands to take the blindfold but he stops you.
“Not yet, baby. Want to make you come first,” With that he adds another finger and watches, mesmerized, as your cunt takes his digits. The lewd sounds filling the room are enough to make him bust right then and there. He manages to pull himself together though. That is, until he gets a taste of you.
Hyunjin’s tongue slides in between your folds in one flat stripe and he groans. The groan is so deep that you feel it vibrate through your entire being. He traces figure eights across your clit and you swear you're in heaven. His tongue is euphoric and the feeling of his delighted groans are better than ecstasy.
“Hyune, please. I’m almost there.” Your fingers tug at his roots so hard you might have to apologize later. Hyunjin doesn’t seem to mind very much.
“You’re so good for me, baby. Come on, finish for me. Let me hear those pretty little symphonies of moans.” You clench around his fingers as he increases the pressure on your clit, giving you a knee buckling orgasm. You crash so hard that Hyunjin has to hold up your waist to prevent you from falling.
He chuckles and licks the insides of your thighs clean before rising to his feet and pulling you into a wet kiss, your own juices invading your tastebuds. Hyunjin finally lets you take off the blindfold after helping you sit up. The man in front of you looks so proud of himself with a lopsided grin, your release glistening on his lips.
“Happy birthday, baby.” He pulls you into another kiss and cups your jaw.
“This gonna happen every year?” You smile. Hyunjin shakes his head.
“This is gonna happen whenever you’ll let me.”
172 notes · View notes
candycandy00 · 3 months
Text
Promotion - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic
You’ll do anything to get Gojo to recommend you for a promotion to grade one! 
Written for @kuroov in exchange for making the lovely graphics for my welcome post. I hope you like it! 
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. (Professional) Power Imbalance. Spit kink. Oral sex. Slight size kink. Divider by @benkeibear!
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The cursed spirit in front of you writhes on the ground as it dies, remnants of your technique still glowing from its body. You whirl around to look at the man who accompanied you on today’s mission. 
“See? I did good, right?”
Gojo Satoru smiles and nods, his eyes hidden behind his blindfold. “Yeah, you did good. I didn’t have to lift a finger.”
You walk over to stand closer to him, tilting your head up to see his face. With your eyes shining, you ask, “Don’t you think I’m ready to be grade one?”
You’ve been gunning for this promotion for months now, and so far Gojo is still holding out on you. He can easily nominate you anytime he wants, and with a recommendation from someone as influential as him, that promotion would be in the bag. 
“Hmmm, I’m not so sure,” he says, his tone somewhat playful. “I need to see you in action a few more times, I think.”
You want to shout that he’s seen you “in action” plenty of times already, but you hold your tongue. You certainly don’t want to offend him at this point. “Okay. Will you come with me tomorrow then?”
“Sure, anything for my cute little kouhai,” he says, patting your head. 
You blush and look away. You’ve been trying hard to keep your relationship with Gojo purely professional, but he makes it difficult. He’s incredibly good looking, and he knows it. And he’s so flirty with practically everyone, it’s easy to see why so many of your fellow sorcerers are nursing crushes on him.  
In all honesty, you’ve got a bit of a crush yourself. 
“Let’s grab something to eat before we head back,” he suggests, casually wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You don’t think anything of it. You’ve seen him do this to plenty of other people and it seems to mean nothing to him. He’s just being friendly. 
“Okay,” you say, eager to keep his favor. You’re actually pretty tired and would like to go straight home to your apartment and go to sleep. But you desperately want this promotion, and that involves keeping Gojo happy with you. 
The two of you stop at a crepe shop on the way home and he buys treats for both of you, but has them wrapped and boxed. “We’ll eat them at my place,” he says, and you blink up at him in surprise. 
“Your place?”
He grins. “You’ve been there before. My little side apartment near the school. It’s close by so we’ll stop there to eat.”
“Oh… okay.”
You have been there before, three months ago. But you went with a few other sorcerers. Gojo was hosting a small welcome party for a new co-worker who transferred in from the Hokkaido branch. You’ve never been there alone with him, and you’re not sure how you feel about doing it now. You feel nervous, uneasy, but you also feel excited and flattered. 
Above all, you want to keep him happy. 
When you reach his apartment, he unlocks the door and stands back, gesturing for you  to go inside first. You step into the darkened room, and he steps in after you, flipping on the light switch and then closing the door behind you. The sound of it nearly makes you jump. You get the strange feeling that you’re caged in here with a predator, but it’s just Gojo, standing there slipping his blindfold off. You don’t think you’d mind being his prey. 
Instead of going to the small kitchen table to eat the crepes, he walks over to his sofa in the living room and sits down, then pats the cushion beside him. “Have a seat,” he says, opening the box in his lap and pulling out the two crepes wrapped in colorful paper. 
You do as he says, sitting down on the sofa to his left and maintaining what you feel is an appropriate distance from him. But you can’t help being extremely aware of how close the two of you actually are, how alone the two of you are in his apartment.  
He reaches you one of the crepes and opens his own. You carefully peel back the paper, not wanting to make a mess in his surprisingly neat living room. You’ve heard this is just a secondary residence he uses to be close to the school, but it appears to be well maintained. 
You glance over at Gojo as he takes a bite of his crepe. There’s something oddly sensual about the way his mouth opens, the way his lips encase the sweet treat. Is he doing it on purpose? After that first bite, he notices some cream filling on his fingers, and proceeds to lick them clean as you watch, transfixed. His eyes shift to your face and he asks, “Aren’t you going to eat yours?”
“Oh, uh, sure,” you say, feeling flustered as you take your first bite of your own crepe. You barely taste the thing, your mind so preoccupied with the positively lurid show Gojo is currently putting on beside you. He licks the crepe as if he’s making out with it, and his tongue flicks at the soft crust. 
He catches you watching him and smiles at you. “Wanna try mine?” 
“Huh?”
He holds his out toward your mouth. “Go ahead.”
You stare at the offered crepe, at the mound of cream filling where Gojo’s tongue has just been buried. Would he be offended if you refused? Do you even want to refuse?
“Okay, thanks,” you say, leaning forward and taking a small bite. You chew it slowly, savoring the taste. Is this what Gojo’s mouth tastes like? 
“Like it?”
You nod. “Y-yeah, it’s delicious.”
He grins at you, like he’s amused by something you’re not aware of. You go back to eating your crepe as he finishes his own, at one point getting the cream all over his fingers again. He’s such a messy eater. He puts the two cream covered fingers in his mouth, licking them as he stares at you. He coats them thoroughly in his saliva, then slowly pulls them out. They’re glistening, practically dripping. 
And then, he reaches his hand toward you, looking at you expectantly. Your heart races as you realize what he wants you to do. This is highly inappropriate, but you want to make him like you. You want to please him. So you open your mouth obediently, and his wet fingers slide in. 
He plays with your tongue as your lips reflexively close around the digits. You can taste him so clearly, you feel a fluttering in your stomach. 
“Good girl,” he says as you begin sucking his fingers, the sweet taste of the crepe lingering on his skin. He gently moves them in and out, seemingly enjoying the way your head moves forward to follow them when he pulls them back. 
“Such a cute mouth. I bet you’d like to suck something else too, wouldn’t you?” he asks, those gorgeous blue eyes watching you. 
This is wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this with your superior. This is not the way you wanted to get that promotion to grade one. But how can you refuse him? He could make or break your career. And besides… you’ve always wondered what his cock tastes like. You’ve thought about sucking him off too many times to count. 
You’re tired. You’re horny. And the hottest guy you’ve ever seen in your life is spreading his thighs apart on the couch beside you, unbuckling his belt. So you let him gently tug you off the couch and to your knees in front of him. When you look up, his cock is already out, inches from your face. It’s fucking huge, though you can’t say you’re surprised by that. Sitting here so low before him, his tall frame towers over you even though he’s sitting. 
With one hand, you reach up and lightly grip his shaft, then you lean forward and wrap your lips around the tip, your tongue flicking over it. You press your face forward, taking more of him into your mouth, quickly coating it in your spit before it hits the back of your throat. Then your head is bobbing back and forth, your lips and tongue gliding over him as his cock is effectively shoved into your throat and then almost back out, over and over. You gag slightly, but try to suppress it. 
Glancing up at his face, you find him staring at you, wearing a pleased expression. His skin is slightly flushed, but otherwise he seems surprisingly calm for a guy getting deep throated. But his cock doesn’t lie, and it’s twitching in your mouth as you continue taking him as deep as you can without choking. 
At some point one of his hands moves to rest on your head, fingers softly curling into your hair. His breathing gets a little faster, and you know he’s close. You pull back, letting him pop out of your mouth, then your eyes meet his. “You can cum in my mouth,” you offer, opening your lips and extending your tongue like a good girl. 
His grip on your hair tightens just a little, holding your head still, and then his hot cum is shooting directly into your mouth, covering your tongue. You keep your lips parted for a few seconds, letting him watch his cum sliding around before you swallow it all. 
He rubs your head, like you’re a puppy, and grins down at you. “I knew you’d be good at this.”
You’re just catching your breath when you gaze up at him and say, “Thank you.”
He looks at you like he doesn’t know what you’re thanking him for. Honestly, you don’t really know either. Your mind has been a little fuzzy since this all started. But he laughs as if he’s amused before he pulls you up by your arms and starts pulling your clothes off. You let him, having no desire to stop this now. You’ve already sucked his dick, why not go further? 
Soon, he has you face down on the couch, his strong hands holding your hips in the air as he fucks into you from behind. His body is heavy as it leans against yours, making you feel totally powerless and trapped, but it’s a feeling that thrills you more than scares you. 
Your face is pressed into the cushions, your hands gripping the plush fabric. You can hear his breaths, fast and heavy, and you can feel a satisfying stretch as his cock shoves all the way in with each thrust. 
A few minutes in, he slows his pace and bends down until his face is close to your ear. “Hey, you okay?”
You turn your head to the side to look at him. “Yeah…”
“You’re so quiet. Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“I don’t… want you to stop,” you breathe out, your voice nearly a whisper. Whatever this is between the two of you, it’s way too late to back out now. So you might as well enjoy it. 
He must notice your flushed face, your glazed eyes, because he goes back to fucking you as hard as before, one hand sliding around in front of you to find your clit. You jerk from the sudden pleasure, clamping your mouth shut to keep from moaning. You hear Gojo laugh. “There we go,” he says, his finger stroking you in a rhythm that matches his thrusts. 
You bury your face in the cushion to muffle any embarrassing sounds you might make as you climax, shuddering beneath him. Minutes later, he suddenly pulls out, and you feel something warm and wet hit your bare back. 
Later, you end up falling asleep on Gojo’s couch. You wake up the next morning with a blanket draped over you. Gojo steps out of the small kitchen and hands you a cup of coffee before sitting down on the other end of the couch.  
“Good morning,” he says cheerily. You don’t know where he gets the energy. 
You sip the coffee and look at the nearby end table. Your clothes are neatly folded in a stack. 
“Do you need to go home and change before the job today?” he asks casually. 
“Yeah, I guess,” you say, still trying to get yourself completely woken up. 
“I’ll take you home,” he says. “Then we’ll meet up later.”
You look over at him. “You’re coming with me again?”
“Didn’t I say that yesterday? I still have to decide if you’re ready to be promoted.”
You’re wide awake now. “You’re still not sure? But… I thought…”
He looks surprised. “What? You thought I would recommend you for grade one if you slept with me?”
You feel your face burning.  “I don’t know what I thought.”
He laughs and sits his cup on a table. “Look, if I was ranking your cock sucking skills, you’d be a special grade! But that has nothing to do with this. Grade ones get sent out alone, on very dangerous missions. I don’t want you to get ripped to shreds because I recommended you without being absolutely sure you’re ready.”
You sigh and stand up to retrieve your clothes. “I understand.”
He had a point. You didn’t want to end up dead either because you were prematurely promoted. But you were surprised he cared so much. Maybe he wasn’t the egotistical asshole everyone said he was. 
Maybe you’ll let him treat you to crepes again soon. 
261 notes · View notes
vlrspace · 11 months
Text
essay, bakugou x reader
wc: 1K
cw: pure fluff
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“read over my essay, great explosion murder god dynamight” you said as you threw your book on the table in front of him.
bakugou, who’s been minding his own business, looks up at you from where he sits, face blank for a second before he furrows his brows with a grimace. “why the fuck would i do that, especially for you? go ‘nd ask the extras” his tone is unbothered, though he doesn’t push your book away.
“momo’s on a date with shoto and tenya uses the sophisticated words he learned from middle school, every time. that’s how i know what sophisticated means” you start to explain, before using a little tactic on him “and you’d help me because you’re so smart and good at school, like i wish i was as smart as you” you compliment him in a pleading way, hoping if you stroke his ego a little bit then he’ll help you.
“nah, i see what yer trying to do, go ask the nerds. i ain’t got time for your shit” bakugou says after a few seconds of looking at you and while you somewhat expected him to react like that, doesn’t mean you weren’t prepared to come up with something else.
“okayy, i’ll ask izuku. i’m sure he’ll help me in a heartbeat” you beam at him as you reach for your book, however bakugou grabs it first and holds it away from you.
“‘right, i’ll fucking do it” he yells at you and a sly smirk makes its way to your cheeks as you cross your arms and the ash blond, quickly realising his actions, puts your book down with a huff. “i get better grades than that nerd ‘nyways” he mumbles while standing up with your book in his hand, completely dwarfing it with his larger ones.
ripping your eyes away from his hand before he could catch you staring, your smirk turns into a small smile. “you’re the best kats” you look up to him, his body slightly towering over yours as he looks down on you with a hint of softness and you can see his his lips curling up a little bit at the ends. “let me know if you’re done” you grin and turn to join the girls on the couch.
bakugou doesn’t have time to reply, he’s only looking after you for a few seconds before turning to leave and read over your essay in the comfort of his room.
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katsuki: come over
came the message an hour later and you swiftly excuse yourself from the group, all of them wiggling their brows and teasing you as you emerge from the common room, knowing about your crush on the explosive boy. your face turned red from all the words and gestures and you decided to ignore them, hoping your cheeks calm down by the time you reach bakugou’s room.
bakugou opens his door a moment after you knock on it and lets you in. you take a seat on his bed, where he joins you a few seconds later, sitting next to you a few inches away.
“yer essay was fine, just stop repeating words and use different sentence structures. the built up was good, though not as interesting as mine. overall it was bosting” he explained to you, smirking at the end and you looked at him with eyes narrow, lips in a pout.
“you’re doing this on purpose i swear” shaking your head, you gently push against his shoulder with yours, knowing it won’t effect him at all from how muscular he is. “do you think it’ll give me a passing grade?” you ask unsurely, looking down at your hands.
“i know, you’ll get more than a passing grade” bakugou’s voice is rough, but his tone is soft and he wonders if you can sense the tenderness in his eyes, showing only for you.
“thank you for reading over it!” you say, a smile tugging at your lips as you stand up from his bed, already missing the warmth of him by your side, even if the two of you weren’t touching. “i should probably go, it’s nearly 8:30 and i don’t want to mess up your sleeping schedule” there is no teasing in your tone and bakugou feels his heart beating a little faster at that as he looks up at you and your breath hitched in your throat at the eye contact. bakugou looked up at you with care, completely different from an hour ago and the butterflies in your tummy are going wild.
before you could make a complete fool out of yourself, you take a step back before turning to walk towards his door and he follows you with your book still in his hand. you’re so caught up in your thoughts that you haven’t seen his hand reaching towards the doorknob before you, opening it a little as he murmured a quiet “here”, holding your book out for you with his other hand. you turn around and take your book away from him bashfully, mentally slapping yourself for forgetting the very thing you’re here for.
“thank you katsu, you’re such a sweetheart!” you quietly say, before standing on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek, surprising both you and him with your boldness and you feel bakugou’s body tense slightly before relaxing and you feel one of his hand softly brush against your lower back, rubbing against your shirt gently.
“‘s okay” he breaths against your hair after you pull back and with a final glance at each other you leave his room with a grin and he returns it.
later that night, it’s well past his bed time and bakugou is still up, thinking about your little encounter from earlier. he knows that he likes you and he also knows that he needs to make a move before someone snatches you away from him. he gets out of his bed, fully aware that it’s past curfew and as quietly as he can, he exits his room.
he feels his heart in his chest as he knocks on your door, fearing that you might be asleep already, but you open the door, still awake. bakugou utters out the words before he can stop them upon seeing you.
“go on a date with me”
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fatkish · 8 days
Note
Heyy, i wanted to request a Eresermic im which Aizawa has a biological daughter, but she is being bullied and they noticed when she was already thinking in ending it all.
I understand if this is too dark, i just lived something similar and my parents blamed me, so some confort would be apreciared hahaha
Thankss, i love your writing 🩷
(Oh my gosh, this hits so close to home because this happened to me. My parents grew up in the era where if boys were mean to you it was because they like you. So when I begged them to do something about my bullies, they did nothing. Needless to say, my childlike innocence was the only reason why I’m alive. Although I may be doing better than I was back then, nothing can erase the trauma from the unintentional neglect from my parents. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ll be basing this somewhat off of my own experience and I’ll be putting it in the Pro Heroes x Inner Child Series)
Erasermic x Aizawa’s Bullied Daughter Reader
(TRIGGER WARNING: This story has mentions of bullying, harassment, allusions to suicide and suicidal thoughts, depression and other potentially triggering topics. Please be advised)
Since you basically have two dads, you refer to Hizashi as papa and Shouta as dad
Your quirk was called restraint. Basically if you called someone by their real, full name, you could temporarily restrain them as long as you focused on them
But just like your dad, you also had to be able to see your target
But unlike your classmates, you were a late bloomer. You developed your quirk at age 8, which led to you being bullied by your peers
You knew that your dad’s worked really hard and that their jobs were really stressful at times. So the last thing you wanted was to be another source of stress for them. Which is why you didn’t tell them about the bullying
You were 11 when you just couldn’t take it anymore. You tried to deal with the situation on your own, you tried to fight your bullies who even started making fun of your dad’s being a couple
You tried not to let anyone’s words affect you but after so many years, you started to believe them too. And you began to bully yourself
You would tell yourself that your dad’s already had enough stress on their plates and that you were just a burden on them. You had started to mentally and physically beat yourself up
The bullies had started to use their quirks on you, resulting in bruises which you would hide with makeup that your Aunt Nemuri had gotten you since you started to develop acne
Since your dads would get home late, you had plenty of time to get home and cover up any wounds
One day, you just had enough
You decided that you were better off dead. You decided that you would take your own life after you got home and would leave a note before leaving the house so your dads wouldn’t have to deal with the body
Unknown to you, Aizawa had gotten a call from one of your teachers who was concerned about you. She had seen you fighting and decided to give Aizawa a call since your grades and overall performance had declined significantly
Aizawa had informed Hizashi of the call and they decided to go home early and wait for you. They believed that you were going through puberty and the hormonal changes were effecting your performance and were the cause
Imagine their surprise when you get home, covered in bruises, a busted lip that was still bleeding and a completely dead look in your eyes
Seeing their precious baby in such a state they immediately started to worry and begged you to talk to them
They had prepared your favorite food for dinner and even got you your favorite dessert as a treat. Seeing how sweet they were, you broke down and confessed your pain and your plan
Hizashi was balling his eyes out and wrapped you in his arms while Aizawa had clenched fists with tears in his eyes.
Aizawa made the call to your school demanding a talk with the principal and the parents of your bullies. While Aizawa was setting that up, Hizashi had you sit on the couch while he tended to your wounds, disinfecting them, cleaning them and bandaging them
He told you that he loves you even though you’re not his biological kid, you’re HIS little listener, his favorite kid in the whole world. He then picked you up and smothered you in hugs and kisses
Aizawa came back into the room and brought the food
That night, you guys are on the couch as you snuggled together under a blanket and watch your favorite movie
The next day, Aizawa and Hizashi dropped you off at UA with Nemuri, while they had a talk with your teachers and bullies. They decided that homeschooling would be the best for you right now since they want to make sure you heal mentally, physically and emotionally from this before you go back
They had told Nedzu what happened and he agreed that for the meantime, until you were mentally stable again, the safest bet would be to have you do your homeschooling at UA where you’ll be surrounded by people who can help you and prevent you from doing anything detrimental to yourself
Needless to say, they love you and you are their whole world and you’re the reason why they fight to come home. You’re their motivation and the reason they fight to protect
(I hoped this helps you and that you guys enjoy this)
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janeyseymour · 5 months
Text
At Arm's Length pt 2
A requested sequel, although this could *probably* be read on its own.
Part 1
WC: ~3k
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Melissa Schemmenti was fond of exactly five people at her place of work- six if you counted the strange dynamic she had with the principal of the school. She cared about her beloved work wife Barbara, her three work children, and... and somehow you had wormed your way into her little group, all over a spilled cup of coffee (or two, but who’s counting?). But it wasn’t in the way that she cared for the kindergarten teacher, and it wasn’t in the way that you felt she had a protective maternal feeling for you. It was different. Not bad, but certainly different from the rest. 
Friday night was a nice night with the redheaded teacher. She had wined and dined you, and if you were being honest, it was the best meal of your life. Growing up in center city Philadelphia, you didn’t much have the luxury of decadent food- and you sure as hell know you were lucky to have feasted on her cooking for even just one night. It definitely beat the meals you grew up eating, and there was no contest to be had in the sorry excuses for meals you could ‘cook’ for yourself with the little ingredients you had laying around your half decorated apartment. You’re not sure you would ever be able to afford to cook the way she does. You would need... years of cooking lessons.
You leave her place on a high- full from the delicious food, a little warm from the bottle of wine you had shared, and on cloud nine at the knowledge that the Melissa Schemmenti didn’t hate you in the slightest.
“So, you think I still hate ya?” the second grade teacher playfully pokes at you as you reach for the door.
“I-” you turn red.
“I don’t,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Now get home safe, and let me know when you get home, yeah?”
You nod with a smile and yet another thank you as you quietly raise the tupperware container filled with leftovers. You leave a moment later, not realizing that she watches you the entire way to your car, making sure you get there safely. She has a bat in hand, ready to pulverize anybody who thinks they can mess with you or try to rob you of her delicious cooking.
When you relay to her that you made it home, she texts back, You’re in your apartment?
I’m in my complex, you reply, not quite ready to go into your apartment that doesn’t quite feel like a home.
Not good enough. Let me know when you’re in- door locked and everything.
When you do, she types back, Good. Don’t miss me too much.
And god, you don’t even know what to make of that text. 
Monday morning comes just a bit too early for you. You wake up just a little too late to brew coffee at home, and you sigh. You were hoping to be at least somewhat caffeinated for the beginning of the week. Grabbing your ‘bland ass salad’ and the now empty and clean tupperware container gifted to you by a certain coworker, you get in your car and head to school.
For the first time upon entering the school, you don’t feel the need to peek into the break room before entering. You aren’t afraid to see that redheaded second grade teacher you used to nearly cower at. You just walk in, a smile on your face as you see the usual crew gathering around the television to watch the news. Everybody but Melissa turns to give you a silent wave before turning back around to the screen. You quietly place your lunch in the fridge, noting you won’t have to move anybody else’s food before making your way over to the coffee machine silently.
“Didn’t make any coffee this morning? Afraid you’d spill it all over ya again?” The redhead asks, eyes still glued to the screen. There’s a hint of mischief in her voice. You turn, not realizing that she even knew you were in the room. You shake your head silently, not wanting to interrupt the broadcast. You remembered what happened the last time you did that. You do not want a repeat of that event. “There’s some in the mug. I made it not five minutes ago. It’s yours if you want it.”
“Thanks,” you say shyly as you let the steam rise in your face. It just happens to be a coincidence that you both like your coffee the same way- no need to fix it at all. You go to leave the room, only to hear that low voice again.
“Come watch the news with us, smalls.” This was the second time the woman had spoken over Jim Gardner to talk to you. 
Not wanting to be back on Melissa’s bad side, you quietly make your way over and take a place next to her and Barb. Slyly, you hand her tupperware back to her. She takes it with a smile and a small nudge to your ribs. Barb glances over, her eyebrow raising just a fraction of an inch, before directing her attention back to the news anchor they all loved. 
When the news is over, Janine turns to you with a grin. “So... how was your weekend? Gregory and I missed you at Bone- the restaurant on Friday.”
“It was nice,” you say quietly. “Lowkey. I needed a quiet weekend after last week.” You unconsciously shift a bit closer to Melissa.
If Barbara notices the way your cheeks tint red or your subtle shift, she doesn’t mention it. She just looks at you with a smile. “I’m glad you had a nice weekend, Y/N. Are you ready for this week?”
“Now that I have some coffee,” you chuckle. “Alright, I have to reply to a few emails I got over the weekend, but I’ll see you all arou-”
“You better have lunch with us,” Melissa cuts you off. All eyes turn to her. “I mean... c’mon, hon. You’re one of us now.”
“I- I am?” you look around the group. Janine and Jacob are all grins and giving you thumbs up. Gregory is as unreadable as ever. Barbara has a knowing look on her face. And Melissa is looking at you like you’re an idiot. 
“You think I’d give my Eagles shirt to just anyone? Or let anyone touch my coffee?” she rolls her eyes. “Yeah. You’re with us now. Don’t be dumb.”
You just barely let yourself smile, afraid of overreacting with the grin you want to let wash over your face. “Y-yeah. Okay. Yeah. I’ll- I’ll see you at lunch.”
As you leave, you hear Janine ask, “Hey, Melissa, where’d that tupperware come from?”
“Who’s askin’?” You hear her gravelly voice ask, and you can practically hear her staring down the shorter teacher. “Why you gotta know?”
You smile into the mug as you continue on down the hall. 
Come lunch time, you’re almost excited to join the group again- even if it means Melissa will make fun of your lunch again. But then Zion didn’t have lunch again- just an empty lunch box-, and you have to go through the charade of making sure the lunch ladies made extra so he could have lunch without taking someone else’s. And by the time all of that is over, you only have twelve minutes left to try to enjoy your lunch before having to head outside for your dreaded recess duty. 
You hear their conversation before they know you’re outside the door.
“Oh come on, Melissa,” Jacob laughs nervously. “You and I both know that your attitude towards her didn’t just flip overnight.”
“Well, we did have the weekend,” she bites back, and you can practically see the smirk on her face. 
“You know what I mean!” he argues. “You hated her on Thursday, and now you’re inviting her to sit with you and Barb at lunch? You even have her salad ready for her?”
You silently pray the kindergarten teacher won’t let slip that you had gone over to Melissa’s for dinner on Friday. She doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.
“Yeah, and if she doesn’t come down and eat it before lunch is over, I’m gonna go down to her room and shove it down her-”
You push the door open gently.
“There y’are,” the redhead says as she kicks out the seat next to her. “Where ya been?”
You sigh softly as you sit down next to her. “Making sure all my kids had a lunch to eat... Zion’s mom forgot to pack his lunch- again.” 
Barbara gives a sad shake of the head. “She’s been doing that since I had him in Kindergarten. Next time, tell the lunch ladies to put it on my account.”
“N-no, I just paid for it,” you say quietly as you glance at your salad on the table. You don’t make any moves to eat it. “I have been. He needs to eat.”
“And so do you,” Melissa says pointedly as she juts her chin out towards your container.
“I’m not that hungry, and I won’t have time to finish it,” you mumble. You won’t admit that you’re craving her pasta, and you know your salad just won’t do the trick. “I have recess duty in-” you glance at your watch. “Seven minutes.”
You see the gears turning in the second grade teacher’s head. “Gimme a minute.” She stands from her place and heads out the door. You all hear the way her boots hit the tile as she makes her way down the hall.
You fiddle with your thumbs, just trying to pass the last few minutes of your lunch, when you feel like you’re being stared at. You look up. You are being stared at. 
“What?” You ask, suddenly self-conscious of your appearance. You glance at Barb who has a knowing smile but again chooses to stay silent.
“You know Melissa is about to get you out of recess duty, right?” Janine asks.
Your brows knit in confusion, but before you can say anything, the woman in question struts in proudly.
“I got someone to cover your duty. Now eat,” she says pointedly as she heads for the coffee machine.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you say shyly. “But thank you.”
“You’ve never done that for me before,” Jacob pouts, clearly a little jealous of this strange soft spot Melissa has developed for you.
“Me either,” Janine pipes up. “Even after-”
“Or me,” Gregory speaks from next to Janine.
“Well, youse usually eat your lunch. We can’t have newbie going down like Janine did that day we had the power go out,” Melissa laughs it off. She looks in your direction again. “Dammit, Y/N. Eat your lunch, or I’ll have to make a ziti for naught.”
Sheepishly, you open your lunch and begin to eat slowly. “Thanks,” you say quietly as you cover your full mouth with your hand.
“Eh, don’t mention it.” She smiles proudly as she fixes two cups of coffee. She sets one down in front of you.
When you look at her curiously, she rolls her eyes. “Y’look like you need it. ‘N apparently, I know how you like it.” She winks at you jokingly.
You nearly choke on your lunch at her dirty innuendo.
“Finish up,” she sighs as she pushes her chair back into place. “I gotta go grab my little eagles and pray to God Aiden didn’t try to beat up on Omari again. I don't think I can handle another call home with that one.” 
Slowly, the rest of the crew trickles out of the lunch room to get back to their students, and you’re left in peace to finish your lunch and coffee. You can't help the dorky grin that washes over your face as you head down the hall to pick up your kids and can hear her praising her students’ reading stamina.
The rest of the day is better- it isn’t a total drag. The rest of the week pretty much follows the same routine- Melissa makes you a cup of coffee in the morning even though you walk in with one- it gets thrown out so you can enjoy hers, you make sure your students are all being adequately fed, and you head down for your lunch with the group you’ve suddenly found yourself a part of.
On Thursday, you can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness knowing Melissa will be outside at recess and not sitting next to you to make fun of your lunch and the fact that your hair is still perfectly in place.
“Hey,” you greet the group, sans Melissa, as you head for the fridge for your lunch.
“It’s already out,” Barb chuckles and points to your newly designated spot. Glancing over, you see that your salad, a fork, and a freshly made cup of steaming hot coffee are waiting for you.
“Oh,” you blush as you make your way over. “Thanks.”
“Wasn’t me, dear,” the kindergarten teacher says knowingly. She looks around to make sure everyone else is in their own conversation before she’s leaning in and whispering, “It was that redhead that you suddenly have wrapped around your finger.”
Your blush only gets deeper, and you attempt to hide it behind a quick bite of food.
“She said somethin’ about how you’ll ‘make it up to her later’?” Barb questions quietly. “Is there something you two aren’t telling me?”
Your eyes go wide, and you shake your head. “I told her this morning I would help her with her bulletin board after school today, that’s all.”
She gives a low, “Mhmm,” before going back to her own lunch. 
“I’m serious!” You laugh nervously. “I told her I would help her revamp her bulletin board!”
“Alright, sweetheart,” the veteran educator laughs. “I believe you.”
Lunch almost drags by without that loud laugh you love to hear when you accidentally mumble something under your breath and Melissa hears it. 
Come the end of the day, you walk down the hall to go assist Melissa with her decorating. She’s standing there, as if she’s already been waiting for an hour.
“C’mon, kid,” she laughs as you saunter down. “I’m not gettin’ any younger over here.”
You pick up the pace with a chuckle and look over her materials. It definitely has potential, and you can’t deny the projects she’s choosing to showcase from her class are adorable.
She lets you take almost full control over her board, noting how your tongue just barely pokes out of the side of your mouth as you mount the background.
“What?” You nearly let a giggle slip. “I don’t want your background to have any wrinkles!”
“And I appreciate it, hon,” she laughs as she takes you in. “Where’d y’learn to decorate like this?”
You shrug. “I’ve always liked doin’ it, and seeing the kids’ smiles when they see their work on a nice board- it feels good.”
When it’s finished, you take a step back with a grin. Your neat hair is now tied up in one of the messiest buns she’s seen, and your shirt actually has wrinkles in it from the odd positions you had put your body in to ensure that her board was perfect. But in that moment, Melissa realizes, she’s smitten for you. She has no idea why she ever thought she could hate you- she had her eyes on you from the very beginning. 
“I think that looks good enough,” you say humbly, but the dopey smile on your face tells her how proud you are of this.
“It looks perfect, hon,” she lays a gentle hand on your arm, giving it a squeeze.
Only then do you turn a deep shade of red.
“You blush a lot,” she notes as she takes the stapler out of your hand and sets it down. She doesn’t make any further moves away from you. You feel your ears starting to burn.
Nervously, you tuck a loose hair behind your ear. She’s close enough that you can really take in those sparkling green eyes of hers, and she’s yet to take her hand off your arm. You hope she can’t feel your heart practically beating out of your chest.
“Don’t worry,” she laughs quietly. “It’s cute.”
You don't quite know how to respond, but you can tell that she’s starting to lean in. Just a little more, and she would be-
“The hell are you two still doin’ here?” Mr. Johnson yells from the other side of the hallway, dragging the mop bucket behind him. Thankfully, you think, he’s too far away to realize the compromising position the two of you are in. “Get outta here so I can lock up!” 
Begrudgingly, you pull away from her close proximity to call out to him, “Sorry, Mr. J! We were just workin’ on the bulletin board outside of Melissa’s room! We’ll be out in a few minutes!”
He huffs loudly enough for you to hear it, and you turn back to the redhead. “I guess that’s our cue to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Or... you could come over for dinner again?”
“You already made me dinner in exchange for the-”
“Not as a transaction, ya goof. As a-” she bites her lip and takes a deep breath. “As a date.”
“R-really?” You ask shyly.
“Yeah, hon. As a date.”
“I- I’d like that.” You grin. “I’ve been craving your pasta since last Sunday when I ran out.”
“Then that’s what I’ll make. Hell, I might even let you attempt to make it with me,” she teases you.
“I’ll grab the wine and be over,” you grin.
As you leave, you feel Melissa’s hand on your back to guide you out. Neither of you have a clue that Mr. Johnson is watching with a small smile on his face. He knew exactly what was going down. Those halls told many stories, and somehow, Mr. Johnson was always a part of those stories- even if no one knew it. 
Next
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tsukimefuku · 8 days
Text
wardrobe malfunction ❖ nanami kento
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summary: your cursed technique isn't exactly clothing-friendly, and when you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you only had one person you could ask for help.
tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, light nanami x reader, cursing, kind of suggestive but not exactly (?), second hand embarrassment is real, this is just pure crack to be honest, is reader lucky or unlucky? i fret, for i do not know, this is barely proofread because i wrote this absolute nonsense on a complete whim, i hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it.
wc: 1k
❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events
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You had just finished blowing up a grade 2 curse that lunged at you full-speed. Your chest heaved up and down with tiny droplets of sweat coming down, as you panted inside the abandoned apartment complex. For a while, the adrenaline pumping through your veins made it hard to assess your state, but then, as you began decelerating and looked at your body, you realized something.
“Oh, no. Not again.” 
Considering your innate cursed technique involved casting small bombs of cursed energy, they could blow up through many things, and when you didn’t manage to distance yourself from them before the impact… Well, safe to say that some things were bound to happen.
You pulled your phone ready to call… someone. Anyone, really. But the ancient piece of technology that you failed to replace in these past few weeks wouldn’t let you access your contacts list, providing you solely with your three last dialed numbers — Gojo, Yaga and Nanami.
Your fucking phone. Your damn, fucking phone.
Just thinking about this had you beyond mortified, but it was either this, or never leaving the building again. So you took a deep breath before pressing dial.
***
Nanami found Shoko to take care of some minor injuries on his arm, and as she was finished, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, and saw your name flashing on the screen.
As he answered, you stuttered for a moment before mustering up the courage to speak.
“So, Nanami, I need, uh, some assistance.” 
He found that to be odd, considering you knew he was on another mission today, and this was a solo endeavor for you.
“Has something happened?”
“So, you know how my technique works, right?”
That question had the sorcerer feeling somewhat puzzled, given he had seen you use it — and explain it — multiple times already.
“Of course, we've been on missions together, and you have explained it to me more than once.”
You sighed before proceeding. “So, here's the thing, I kind of blew myself up.” 
That quickly got his attention and he tensed up. Shoko had just finished removing her gloves and noticed it.
“Are you injured?” His usually impassive voice had a hint of worry to it.
“No, no. I'm fine. Sometimes this kind of happens, and I'm pretty used to blocking the impact and using RCT if needed.” 
Is it her? Is she okay? She better be, I need her tomorrow, Shoko whispered at Nanami as she walked around and sat on a bench in front of him.
He didn’t notice what she asked, as he was humming confusedly, given you still hadn’t clarified why you called.
Your voice kind of cracked up for a moment, as you violently blushed on the other side. At least, the phone is an imageless form of communication.
“So, I’m okay. But my clothes, they, uh… I blew them up.”
He slowly began taking in what exactly you were saying.
“That's it, that’s what happened. I… I need clothes, please. Can you bring me some, just so I can get out of here without getting arrested for public indecency?”
Nanami kept silent for some time, and felt a slight rush of heat run over his cheeks.
“Nanami?” 
He coughed slightly, tensing his posture as he did.
“Yes, of course. But wouldn't you rather someone else to do that for you, like Ms. Nitta, or one of the female students?” 
That caught Shoko’s attention, and she discreetly looked at the sorcerer while he was still on the phone with you.
You nearly gagged.
“No! No way. I… I'm mortified as is.”
Somebody please fucking kill me.
“I can't talk about this with anyone else. It's too damn embarrassing,”  you stated, letting your mind go to random facts in order to try lifting the mood. “I now understand why that student from Kyoto keeps taking his shirt off to fight, but that's beside the point.”
You were met at the wake of your failed joke.
“I-I mean… Just bring me something, please.” 
Nanami cleared his throat as he pulled on his tie and opened his shirt’s top button.
“Fine. Send me your location.”
You sighed, relieved.
“Great, you're the best, thank you!”
He switched his phone off and grounded himself for a moment.
“Is she alright?” 
“Yes, she is,” he answered, some words choking on their way up for a second. “Ms. Ieiri, do you happen to have any clothes around here?” 
“What? Why would you need that?”
He couldn’t muster up anything remotely feasible to say, and given that embarrassment is an infectious condition, it began creeping up on him, too.
Nanami resumed speaking. “… I'm sorry to bother you. I just remembered I can get an assistant's uniform.” 
He then walked towards the door to leave.
“Nanami…” Shoko began.
“Hm?” He asked, as turning around.
“… Are you blushing?”
“... Good afternoon,” he answered, before stepping out a little quicker than usual.
***
Nanami had just arrived, and you let him know you were upstairs. As he asked how you wanted to receive the clothes, you were insistent that he threw the bag over the steps, and being a reasonable and rational person, the sorcerer obviously declined to do that.
“Just throw the thing already!” you yelled from the top of the stairs, away from his sight.
“I’m not uncivilized,” he replied, sighing. “I’m going to put them down here, and wait for you outside.”  
Nanami was considerably less mortified than you would expect, but it was him, Mr. mature, after all. Also, this wasn’t the first embarrassing situation of yours that he had witnessed.
You were prone to setting yourself up for absurd shenanigans, it seemed.
As you heard him leave and close the door, you stepped your way down and flimsily put the black pants and white buttoned shirt, which didn’t match at all with the hiking boots you usually wore on missions.
You went outside, and were met by him, his usual impassiveness slightly disturbed by something you couldn’t quite yet identify.
“Thank you, Nanami,” you stated, sighing relieved.
“It’s no trouble,” he answered, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. 
You were both uncomfortably silent for a while.
“These kinds of unexpected things happ-”
“We will never talk about this again as long as I live, please, I can’t cope” you pleaded, voice simmering with desperation for this awkward moment to be over, “just, please.” 
He cleared his throat, mindlessly adjusting his tie around his neck. It strangely felt more tight than usual.
“Of course. I apologize.”
“No need. It’s fine. Let’s just go back to Jujutsu High and pretend this never happened.”
“I do not know what you’re talking about,” he said, sparing you a quick glance.
You smiled, amused and thankful.
“Right. Precisely.” 
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crabdrabbles · 2 months
Note
Hiii Crab so happy to see you write outside of our rants/idea chats and my fellow delulu cod enjoyer! Would love to request Platonic!141 + Reader (sorry if this is long and somewhat confusing lol). You can do headcanons, drabble or whatever you comfy for. An idea that popped in my head kinda semi personal: Civ or 141! Reader though has parents and family is the reader is quite something else. Reader despite having somewhat normal upbringing still feel empty; they shouldn't be feeling this numb and empty deep inside of them. The reader craves the love that they give but couldn't or lack of receiving it back, though they don’t expect it or selfishly want it. Just someone who understands them even in their deepest darkest secret or flaw then boom cue the task force 141 unexpected yet welcoming to their life and maybe the one that the Reader can lean and let them be vulnerable on (finally).  
Take your time on doing this Looking for to your other writing genuinely -Cee, your fellow Soap delulu
GN!Reader & 141 (Mostly Price)
Warnings: Slight angst Ships: None. A/N: This absolutely ran away from me and I do not at all regret it, hope you enjoy, Cee!!! Words: 3549
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Almost your entire life had been a cycle of self doubt that also started to churn and twist into self-hatred. You blamed yourself for the feelings. Afterall, you had a relatively normal upbringing. Two parents who were both present in your life, both of whom worked so that you all had food on the table and a roof over your head. A luxury that very few had.
The least you could do for them is follow the path that they wanted to put you on, no matter how much you didn’t want to do it. Because you loved them. 
So you excelled in your education, studying hard to try and impress your parents– to make them love you just as much as you loved them for everything that they did for you for your entire life. They wanted you to do all three sciences despite the additional workload it would add to your already stretched thin time? Then you would do them, take any extra classes after school in order to keep up with the work and not lag behind any of your peers. 
There was no such thing as a social life, either, not when you had homework and projects due. Friends were few and far between. Generally, most people left when they realised how hyper focused you were on your grades instead of social interaction. 
Did a classmate get a higher grade than you on a test? Well obviously you didn’t study hard enough, you just needed to dedicate more time to school even though school was all you had.
Did you get the highest marks in the class? Good, that was what was expected of you. Why didn’t you get full marks? You were better than that. You would do better because you loved your family. They showed it in their own way, of course, by encouraging you to study harder and get better grades. That was their love language, and yours was doing as they asked without a second thought. Because, at the end of the day, you were lucky to have an upbringing like you had. You would ignore the hollow void clawing at your chest because you had no right to feel that way– not when you had a roof over your head and parents that loved you(?).
It was when you came top of the class with full marks in a recent test, you came home with a beaming smile on your face and proudly showed the test to your parents. They took the papers from your hands, flipping through your work with critical eyes, before handing the papers back to you. 
‘Well done, we’re so proud of you.’ That was all you wanted them to say to you. That was all you needed to hear. To know that they loved you. 
‘Your penmanship is terrible.’ Was what you got instead. When you tried to point at the big 100% in green pen, you were waved away. ‘How are you expected to get a job when you write like a child? I’m surprised the teacher could even read your answers’. 
After several years of balancing a work and educational life and paving a way for a line of work that you didn’t want for parents you should have been grateful to have, you decided that enough was enough. 
No matter how hard you worked, no matter how high your marks were, they would never be proud of you. They would never return the love that you had for them until you nearly killed yourself trying. 
Spending your entire childhood, teenagehood and all of your current adulthood trying to please your parents predictably would damage one’s psyche. You had no friends, family who had never been devoted to you as you were to them, and high grades serving as the foundations to a prison-like future.
You dropped out of University. The only option forward that you saw was joining the army in the vain hope that the empty feeling inside of you would dissipate when you actually did something that you believed was more worthwhile than any University course. 
So you threw yourself into the military, working harder than all of the other recruits and training at every chance you could.
Your skills and determination became widely recognised amongst your peers. It took several years, but you eventually caught the eye of none other than Captain John Price. 
Impressed by your willpower that not many soldiers possessed, he offered you a place on the 141. 
Naturally, you agreed. You believed that being part of such a well renowned and respected team would finally beat back the lingering self doubt and emptiness that had curled itself around your heart.
It didn’t. If anything, it made it worse.
You were invited to join the 141, sure, but they had already established their own relationships between each other, had already bonded into a close knit group, and you were simply an outsider. Yes, you had been hand picked by Price himself, but that didn’t mean you were part of the team. They had their own inside jokes that they told to one another, leaving you feeling left out on most days.
And you felt… lacking around them. Ghost was stronger, Gaz was faster, Soap was smarter (he was a demolitions expert for crying out loud!), and Price was almost all of those rolled into one. They all complimented each other as a team. Meanwhile you felt like a spare tyre, a master of nothing and barely a jack of any trade. 
Despite how you felt about it all, they all called you ‘kid’. Regardless of age gaps between yourself and the rest of them, the nickname stuck mostly because you were the newbie. It came as a surprise that it wasn’t spat with vitriol as your peers before had, but it was in fact said with… an affection you couldn’t quite place.
You couldn’t ignore the hole in your chest that had been chipped at over the years, forming a gaping maw that no reassurances could really mend. 
Doubt lingered in the back of your mind, chipping away at your sanity as you prepared for the worst. How long would it take before they realised you weren’t good enough? 
You were so deep in your doubts that you didn’t realise that you had been distancing yourself even more than before until you overheard a conversation in Price’s office a few months down the line.
“-- they don’t belong on the team.” Gaz said as you passed Price’s office and your heart dropped. It was only the tailend of what he had been saying but you had gotten the gist. You wanted to stay, to listen to the conversation more and listen to what your team had to say about you, but you didn’t. What you were going to hear were likely things you had already told yourself right from the start. You keep walking on, ignoring the sting of tears burning in the corners of your eyes. The blood rushing in your ears prevented you from heating the rest of the conversation. 
“-- not only are they acting like they don’t belong on the team, but they’re acting like they’re not good enough.” Gaz continued, sighing in frustration.
“Maybe they need more time.” Ghost rumbled in reply, “Let them come out of their shell a little bit. Best not rush these things.” He was talking from experience, after all.
“Aye… maybe I can invite them out for drinks or sommat? I wouldn’t want them getting transferred before we got to know them a little more.” Soap had been the one that had tried the hardest to get close to you but had also tried to give you space so as to not suffocate you with his personality. 
“They won’t be getting transferred.” Price said with conviction, tapping his desk, “I chose them to be part of this team and this is where they’re going to stay. Let me have a word with them first.”
“Aye, sir.”
— — — — — —
You found yourself in the smoker’s shelter outside the main building. It was late enough that most of the soldiers had gone to bed or off to do their own things elsewhere so you doubted that you would be bothered for a little while. Just enough time for you to get your thoughts together. Your tears had dried in your eyes a few minutes ago, making them sting in the cold air. You didn’t need to look in your reflection to know that you probably looked like a wreck– entirely unbecoming of a soldier of your apparent status. 
You didn’t want to get transferred. Despite your distance with the 141, you didn’t hate them. Far from, actually, you held a great deal of respect for each and every one of them. It was just that you felt like you didn’t have your place amongst them. Not good enough to be associated with them. 
“Bit late to be out here in the cold, chuck.” A voice startled you out of your thoughts– one that you would recognise anywhere from the low rasp of a smoker's lungs. 
“Captain.” You croaked, wincing at the patheticness in your voice. There was a scuff of boots as Price came closer, leaning into your line of vision with a furrowed brow which only furrowed more as he took in your dishevelled appearance.
“Something on your mind?” He asked kindly, perching on the arm of the bench to give you some personal space. He left his question open, allowing you any chance to steer the conversation how you wanted to. There was no judgement for catching you at your lowest, no disgust at your red rimmed eyes— just polite understanding and a non verbal offer of pleasant company. 
“Why did you pick me, Captain?”
The question made him tilt his head, a frown beginning to tug on his features. You were worried you had insulted him.
“What brought this on, huh? Someone say something to you? Need me to have a word with them?” He straightened his back, scowling. Whilst you felt like you didn’t have a place in the 141, you could never deny the shield of protectiveness that Price held over his team. You remember in the back of your mind the day that some General who thought he was hot shit had the audacity to undermine Soap as nothing more than a ‘yappy dog’ when offered the Scot’s demolitions expertise. Price had appeared almost out of thin air and almost ripped the General a new one and things would have escalated into a fist fight had Laswell not intervened. It wasn’t as though Price didn’t think his own soldiers were capable of defending themselves, but he couldn’t care less about punishments aimed his own way over that of his Sergeants and Lieutenant. It was just a surprise that the protective streak extended over you, too, despite your distance to your teammates.
“I’ll sound stupid.” You mumbled, looking down at the ground as if expecting him to chastise you like a child. He didn’t.
“I’ve had my fair share of stupid over the years. Try me.”
“... and ungrateful.”
“I once had a guy punch me in the face two seconds after I took a bullet that would have killed him.” Price countered with a cut off chuckle once he remembered what was probably a mission long finished and cleared his throat. “C’mon, tell Captain what’s on your mind.”
And he sounded so sincere when he said it. Sounded like he genuinely wanted to hear what was going on in your head– that he was willing to waste what was already his important and limited time on someone like you. 
“Sir—”
“John.” Price corrected gently, crows feet more noticeable at the corners of his eyes scrunched up when he smiled, “We’re off duty, you don’t need to be so formal.”
“... John.��� You echoed, finding that you really didn’t like saying that. It felt like calling your teacher by their first name in primary school or a classmate’s parent other than their last name. 
“Now, c’mon, tell me what’s on your mind. Might not be a therapist, but I’m better than bottling it up.” You wondered in the back of your mind how often Price did this. Sat with his soldiers and talked with them, offered them a listening ear to hear their vents and fears. You couldn’t help but feel honoured to be one of the few he willingly offered said time to. Your silence stretched on as you thought of the words to say, how to phrase what you wanted to say without sounding unappreciative of the opportunity that Price had offered you when he requested you join his team. 
“I don’t feel like I belong here.” You blurted once the silence had stretched on for long enough to border on uncomfortable. John’s face fell and you quickly realised how bad that sounded and rushed to correct yourself.
“No, no, wait, let me explain–” the Captain closed his mouth to allow you to continue speaking, but you could tell that it was hard for him. “I just… you could have anyone better than me, you know? I’m not a demolition expert. I’m… I’m not the best Sniper. I’m the slowest on the team, pretty sure I’m the weakest–”
“Nope.” Price interrupted, finally breaking the bubble of your personal space as he took a proper seat next to you on the bench but still respecting the distance enough to keep a few inches between you. “Nope, not lettin’ you say another word.”
“But–” 
“Nope.”
“Cap–”
“No.”
“But you could have anyone better—“
“But they wouldn’t be you.” He deflected easily. Far too easily. He leant back on the bench, crossing one leg over the other as he folded his arms over his chest. His fingers twitched and you could tell he was itching for a cigar but didn’t light one out of respect. 
“Alright, sure, I can ask Laswell to give me one of the best soldiers in the SAS and have them brought here tomorrow. They could be the best of the best, top of their class, better than you and maybe even better than me. But that’s a bit of a stretch.” He winked and earned a weak chuckle from you. “But they won’t be you. I don’t pick just on skill alone, kid, I pick based on how I feel people would fit into the team. I chose you because I knew that you’d be perfect.”
“As for not being a demolitions expert, let  me let you in on a little secret. I’ve no fucking clue about demolitions, either. And you don’t have to be on the team to be the ‘best Sniper’. You’re better than most, and that’s what’s important. As for being the weakest– did you or did you not bodily lift Gaz in a fireman’s carry during training the other week while he was trying to act as an injured civilian? Quite dramatically, might I add. Swooned and everything.”
You remembered that practice mission. Quite fondly, actually. Gaz was a civilian and , after being struck by a foam bullet from Soap, had dramatically screamed in agony and crumpled to the floor. When you had lifted him up and over your shoulders, the bastard continued to wail something along the lines of telling his non-existent spouse that he loved them and that his money be given to his equally non-existent children. Soap got in another shot to the man’s head, knocking off his cap in the process. Distracted as you were trying to haul your teammate out of the danger zone, you couldn’t help but laugh thinking about it now. 
“Last time I checked, Gaz is somewhat heavier than a sack of flour. Don’t tell him I said that, I’ll hurt his feelings.” Price was right, you supposed. You were more than capable of carrying Gaz over your shoulders, maybe even Soap or Price himself if the time called for it. Ghost you weren’t so sure about, though. The man was a walking mountain. 
“What I’m trying to say is that you have to give yourself more credit. You’re more than good enough to be on my team. I chose you for a reason.”
You… did not expect that sort of reassurance from Price. You had hoped for something along those lines, yes, but perhaps with a thrown in criticism or three. You waited for a ‘but’ that never came. The man snorted beside you and when you gave him a quizzical look, he waved off your concern.
“Shit, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think the next thing out of your mouth would be that your parents never hugged you as a kid.”
Your silence made him slowly turn his head towards you. It would have almost been comical if the situation wasn’t. His face crumbled and a wounded sound emerged from his throat.
“Sometimes they did!” You rushed to defend the people that raised you. “And they gave me food and shelter, clothes when I needed them–”
“Fucking hell. No, that’s what they’re supposed to do because they’re your parents. What about telling you that they were proud of you? That they loved you? I saw your records. Top of your class in not just your training but in your education, too. Triple sciences, mathematics, all of it. They had to be proud of you for that? My parents would have killed for me to get even a passing grade in my GCSEs.” You looked down at the ground and it was Price’s turn to have his eyes fixed on you. 
“They were proud of you, weren’t they?” He asked again, leaning forwards so he could catch your eye, his own filled with concern. “Kid?”
“I don’t talk to them much anymore.” 
Price inhaled sharply and he leaned back again, looking around and clenching his jaw as if fighting back his anger. His fingers twitched again. You admired his self control as he was still yet to grab a cigar that you knew he kept on his person. Usually in his breast pocket while his lighter was in his right pocket.
“Listen to me.” The Captain said, a more stern edge to his voice now that he had gathered his thoughts together. “Whatever your family said to you— how they treated you? Forget it. They showed you obligation. Not love. They didn’t want what was ‘best’ for you, they wanted bragging rights. What you’ve achieved– here, in bootcamp, in university and in school, is something to take pride in– no, no, look at me.”
Your gaze had trailed to the side so you avoided looking at your Captain in the eyes. He noticed and clicked his fingers to gain your attention back on him.
“Don’t look away from me because I want you to listen to what I’m gonna say and I want you to look at my face as I say it.” Your eyes met his blue ones, “You should be proud of everything that you’ve achieved in your life. I’m sorry that your family never told you that and I’m sorry that I haven’t said that enough to you since you joined 141.”
You opened your mouth to say something– to argue or disagree but he shook his head.
“No. It’s my turn to speak now. I’m proud of you. I am so proud of you. Everything you’ve done and everything that you’re yet to do, I will always be proud of you. You’re an exemplary soldier and I knew the moment I saw you that you would be a perfect addition to the 141 and you have proved me right time and time again. You belong on this team just as much as the rest of the boys. Do you understand?”
So many words– proud, proud, proud. That’s all you had wanted to hear for so many years from someone whose opinion mattered to you. You wanted to be seen and Price, this godsend of a man, had seen you and more.
“Kid, do you understand me?”
You nodded once and then realised that Price wouldn’t have been able to tell through your shaking. Tears blurred in the corners of your eyes and you nodded again, not trusting your voice in case it shattered. 
“What do you need from me?” Price’s voice was oh so soft, like he was talking to a frightened fawn. He could see how much his words had affected you and it clearly broke his own heart.
“A hug.” Your bottom lip wobbled and his face softened as he opened his arms, twitching his fingers to urge you closer.
“I can do that.” 
You leaned into him and he quickly wrapped his arms around you, drawing you in close. You could smell the lingering scent of his last cigar. The smell of his office and cleaning oil. You felt his chin on the top of your head and felt how his chest rumbled as he spoke.
“You’re part of the 141 whether you like it or not, alright? Me and the boys want you here for as long as you want to be.”
At that moment, for the first time in your life. You felt wanted. You felt appreciated and you felt seen.
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to-thelakes · 1 month
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Luke alvez gives the best hugs of the BAU team
i can do nothing but hard agree with this statement. it has been on my mind for days and i simply, merely, just want a hug from luke alvez of the BAU, that's all i want. my skin? clear. depression? cured. grades? flying high.
i think it would make me feel sane and so uhm, i wrote a couple of one-shots, they're like 300-500 words each but they have pulled me from the pits of the depression that was threatening to eat me up today.
so here they are
just a hug
pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader
summary; luke gives the best hugs in the BAU <3
warnings; fluff, pure fluff, domestic fluff, brief mention of injuries, brief mention of reader having a bad day, luke being a mozzarella hater (disappointed in him)
masterlist
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Some days were just worse than others and today was one of the days that was bad. You and Luke had been at work all day. It was paperwork day and luckily, you had managed to avoid going on a case. You were thankful for that, you knew that you might have had a breakdown if you had to go on a case. It was just one of those days and Luke noticed. He knew and the second that you got through the door into your house, he wrapped you up in a hug.
You didn’t expect it but the second that his arms tightened around you, all the tension released and you melted into him. Your arms snaked around him, nuzzling your face in his chest. He smelt like home and his strong arms grounded you to the earth as he rested his face against your hair. Your fingers dug into him as you just breathed.
“I’m proud of you,” He muttered. You let out a sob-chuckle before you lifted your head so that you could meet his gaze. You looked into his eyes and moved one hand to rest against his cheek. Then you connected your lips with a soft kiss.
“I love you,” You whispered against his lips. He grinned and kissed you again before letting you snuggle back into him.
“I love you too.” You never felt as safe as you did in Luke’s arms. It was the most soothing thing in the world for you.
-
The UnSub had managed to land a few punches on you as you had chased after him. Your face was bruised and bleeding but you were okay. You had caught the UnSub and he was at the PD but your face ached. The medic had cleared you but told you to ice your face which you couldn’t do until you had returned to the PD.
So, you decided to just sit in the car with a water bottle against your face, hoping that it would do something to stop the swelling. You watched from across the lot as the team discussed. Luke had caught your gaze a few minutes ago and sent you a sympathetic look. You tried to smile but it just hurt. He frowned.
You hadn’t expected him to come over but after he finished talking with the team, he appeared. He leant against the open car door and you looked up at him, annoyance written across your face but mainly cause you were in pain.
“How you feeling?” He asked. You gave him a look and he chuckled, “Okay, yeah, dumb question.” You rolled your eyes and placed the water bottle down onto the seat. It didn’t seem to be doing anything; all you wanted right now was comfort.
“Can I get a hug?” You asked. Luke’s hugs seemed always to make you feel a bit better. He and Garcia gave the best hugs in the BAU, hands down. So, they were your first port of call (and your closest friends) when you needed comfort. He chuckled and nodded. You stood up and wrapped your arms around Luke. He was still wearing the bullet-proof jacket but the hard material was somewhat comforting. He wrapped his arms around you, hand cupping the back of your head as you sighed.
“I’m impressed,” He stated. You scoffed and rolled your eyes but didn’t move from where you were nuzzled against him.
“Thanks,” You muttered, amused by his assertion.
-
You and Luke were sitting on Rossi’s couch. Everyone was a few drinks deep and drinks meant that you were touchy. Though, Luke didn’t seem to mind all that much when you cuddled into his side. You were talking about different types of cheeses and you were judging him hard for his dislike of Mozzarella. You honestly weren’t sure how you got onto the topic but it amused you. Tara joined into the conversation every few minutes but she was mostly distracted by Reid and Emily which left you and Luke blissfully alone to bicker about cheese.
His arm was wrapped around your waist, pulling you in and hugging you from the side. Usually, you would never admit that you liked having him close but you did. You and Luke were strictly platonic but sometimes, rarely, you thought about being more and moments like this when Luke was hugging you made you wonder how perfect your life could be.
“Told you, Mozzarella isn’t that good,” He mumbled against your hair, taking your silence as defeat. You let out a defiant scoff and shoved him playfully, pulling back. You crossed your arms over your chest.
“I was just thinking!” You bit back. He let out a teasing ‘uh-huh’ and you pouted. He rolled his eyes and gently tugged you back into him. There was only a moment of resistance before you let yourself fall back into him.
“You know I’m right.” You merely rolled your eyes at his assertion.
-
Luke - much to his dismay - woke up to an empty bed and he rolled over, rubbing his eyes as he tried his best to locate you. It took him a moment to hear you singing in the kitchen downstairs. Roxy was gone from the dog bed and relief filled his chest. You were still here and he let a smile spread across his face as he clambered out of bed. He slipped a pair of pajama pants on before padding downstairs and finding you making coffee in the kitchen.
You were singing your favorite song at the top of your lungs as you swayed your hips, waiting for the coffee to be done and filling up Roxy’s bowl. He couldn’t help but grin as he watched you from the doorway. You placed the bowl of dry biscuits down before you returned to the counter, not even realizing he was there.
It was adorable and he watched you for a moment longer before he decided to finally make his presence known. He said good morning as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. You tensed for a moment before relaxing. You tilted your head back.
“Hi, baby,” You said before you leaned over and grabbed a mug for the two of you. His arms snaked around you as he buried his face in your neck. He pressed a kiss to your neck and you giggled, resting one of your hands over his, “You sleep okay?” You asked. He nodded. The warmth of his back pressed against you was a soothing feeling. It made you melt back into him.
“Slept great,” He mumbled. You reached out for the coffee pot and he let his hands slip away from you which made you groan in annoyance.
“Hey, I was enjoying that,” You muttered as you looked back at him. You then turned back and began to pour coffee for the two of you.
“Payback,” He retorted and you scoffed.
“For what?” You glanced at him before finishing with both coffees. Luke had creamer in his coffee while you just put some milk and sugar. 
“Making me wake up alone,” He stated as he opened the fridge and began to pull out the supplies for breakfast. You scoffed.
“Yeah, yeah,” You rolled your eyes and once Luke had placed down the supplies, you grabbed his arm and tugged him so you could look at him. Then, you pressed a kiss to his lips, peppering a few before you settled back, arms still wrapped around his neck loosely, “You looked so pretty and peaceful. I couldn’t disturb that,” You shrugged. Luke chuckled, smiling bashfully as he met your gaze. He then pressed a kiss to your lips.
“I’ll make us breakfast,” He said. You nodded and pressed another kiss to his lips before you stepped back. You missed the feeling of his arms around you when you were away from him but you tried not to think about it too much.
<3
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