Tumgik
#of course my brain is immediately going to choking kink... which i'm not even into but i'll read it
superbatson · 3 years
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didn't even realize (or remember) while watching ww84 that max put his hand on steve's neck as if to choke him during their fight
this is the second time (that i know of) in which this happens to a chris pine character
i would like to know why this is a thing
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strawbxrryneptune · 3 years
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When We Fall
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Warnings: Graphic sexual content including oral (Male and female receiving w 69) use of sir kink, light biting, pain kink, wing play, etc, mentions of suicide and character death, hints at cheating but it didn't happen, sacrilegious themes? I think?? You're fucking an angel so like,, that's pretty blasphemous lmao, fuckin in front of amirror, reverse cowgirl
It's gonna sound a little wonky at certain parts but bare with me, I'm bad at serious stuff.
^^Pictures do not belong to me !! I made the collage but the art is not mine^^
♡♡
Katsuki Bakugou never saw himself as worth saving. If he was dumb enough to fall behind, dumb enough to let things get too much, then it was on him.
If he was gonna be saved, it would be by himself. He didn't need anyone for anything. He told himself that for years, as a young angel in training, through his apprentice years, even now as a successful guardian.
He got this far by himself, why did he need anybody else? He didn't see that he was stuck. He couldn't move past this point without someone else. That's why Deku was the right hand man of The Highest and not Bakugou. Stupid, stupid, Deku. Bakugou was furious when the courts announced it. What did Deku have that he didn't? He was strong, he was powerful, and he got the job done. That's basically what you need to be a guardian angel, isn't it? When he had complained to the courts, all they had said was "Patience, young one." He had scoffed.
What did patience have to do with anything? He had plenty of patience. Patience was something he had to practice daily, dealing with the kinds of people he did.
He was always assigned to old people, dying out before he could even get attached. Not that attachment would be a problem. He was Bakugou Katsuki, for Christ's sake!! He didn't "get attached", especially to old farts.
That all changed once he was assigned to you.
You, with your glowing skin and beautiful eyes, pulling him in the moment he saw your case file. He used to see you when he was living, a friend of a friend. He never got to talk to you cause you were always around stupid Deku. Y'all might have been together, but he didn't care. He had to meet you, talk to you, touch you, taste you. He would visit in your dreams, talking to you and making you laugh, holding you though the bad parts he couldnt change.
When you finally worked up the gal to ask who he was, he took a deep breath and told you. He was your guardian, assigned to you until you die, there to protect you and keep bad things away. You simply laughed and told him,
"Fine, don't tell me."
He only growled down at you, huffing before disappearing into the cloudy depths of your consciousness.
You didn't see him for weeks, trying to conjure him back in your head, but to no avail. Finally, finally he showed up, but it was not in your dreams. No, he showed up at the foot of your bed, glowing a dewy gold with his wings spread out behind him, tunic wrapping lightly around his slim hips.
You gaped at him, your brain trying to process what it was seeing. He smirked down at you, stalking over to where your soft body lay, trailing thick, calloused fingers over the expanse of your exposed thighs. He lifts up the hem of your oversized tshirt slightly, quirking an eyebrow in question.
You bite your lip and spread your thighs as an invitation, making him groan and slide into the sheets with you.
He gently positions you so you're straddling his face, facing his swelling cock as it makes his tunic rise.
He kisses you through the fabric of your panties, running his tongue up and down the fabric while groaning about how wet you got for him, how much of a slut you were for lusting after an angel.
He finally rips your panties off of you after teasing for what felt like hours, immediately sucking your fat clit in his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. He grips your hips to grind you roughly against him, sucking at you and sliding thick fingers into you, making you mewl and shake above him.
As you push your hips against his pretty face, you notice how big the bulge is in front of you, looking almost painful. You moan softly at the feelings coursing through you and the sight of him so aroused from just eating you out. You bring shaky hands up to grope at his clothed cock, causing him to let out a startled sound into your pussy.
"Fuck, Princess- whaddya doin-"
You cut him off by grinding yourself further onto his mouth, unwrapping the cloth around his waist and watching his cock slap up. You salivated at the sight of it, thick with veins running along it, the head leaking copious amounts of prespend. You shiver when you feel Bakugou's tounge slide into your slit, his teeth catching on your sex and making you whimper above him.
You lean down and run your tongue along the pulsing veins littering his fat cock, ripping a raspy moan from the blonde's lips. His thighs clench in front of you with the sudden urge to fuck up into your mouth, but he resists it in favor of adding two more fingers into you, now stretching you with three and making you groan. He laps at your clit, determined to make you cum before him.
You suck at his tip, dipping into it before moving down further, rolling your tongue along the underside of his shaft as you fondle his balls, making his hips jump when you circle his taint with your fingers. He whimpers into your pussy, tongue stilling inside you as he revels in the pleasure. He's glad you can't see him, cause his eyes are rolled all the way up, drool and your slick running down his cheeks. You slide your hands up and down his thighs fondling his balls and sucking him down your throat, moaning around him when his movements pick up. Just when you think you'll make him cum, he pushes you off of his face.
You blink to yourself in confusion, before he grabs you from behind and positions you over his leaking cock, his breath fanning over your neck before he sinks his cock inside of you, simultaneously sinking his teeth into your neck to muffle his whines.
You arch your back in pleasure, locking eyes with him in the mirror at the foot of your bed that you know wasn't there before. He smirks against your neck, snapping his hips up into you as he grabs at the fat of your tits, playing with your nipple with one hand while the other brushes over your clit.
"Why don't you ask your guardian to help you cum, hm?"
You gasp out, barely able to get out a word as he bounces you on his lap, his fat tip hitting your spot with every thrust.
"Ka-Katsukiii-"
"Nu-uh, that's not my name, slut. You only get to call me Sir, yeah?"
You choke out a feeble,
"Yes sir-!"
Before going back to being a garbled mess. You reach back for stability, only to brush along soft feathers, realizing that Bakugou hadn't put his wings away. In your hazy state of mind, you slowly started to run your fingers up and down the spine of his wings, moaning breathing in his ear as your head tilts back, causing a shudder to run down Bakugou's body, all the way to the head if his dick which pulsed violently inside of you.
He flicked at your clit, growling into your neck to cum, which you did without hesitation, creaming his cock. He gritted his teeth at how tight you clenched around him, and with one look at the white ring you left around the base of his swelling cock, he came inside you, spurting endless amounts of spend. He panted hotly against you, gs tly pulling you off to go clean up, chuckling when he saw you passed out.
♡♡
The hall of the Higher Ups was always huge, but with the guilt and shame resting on his shoulders, the room seemed even bigger to Bakugou. He avoided eye contact with the Advisor, staring dead into Shitty Deku's eyes.
"Why the fuck am I here, nerd? Shouldn't I have already transferred Down There?"
Deku winces at Bakugou's language, straightening up.
"I managed to convince the Council to give you a second chance, Kaachan. This was the first time you were assigned to someone young and appealing, and it's not like there are a lot of options up here-"
"Would you shut the fuck up already? I did what I did, I don't need you picking up after me and trying to be my saviour."
Bakugou sneers, backing Deku up. He rolls his eyes when the Advisor steps forward to intervene, only for Deku to hold a hand up.
"I don't know why you're always right there. You're like some creepy stalker or sumthin'. You have everything you could fuckin' want! Why are you bothering me, especially when I'm to get your position-"
"Because I fucking care, Kaachan!"
Bakugou flinches back at the tone of Deku's voice, surprised at the curse that came out of his mouth.
"Why do you think you're even here still? I'm the one who convinces the Council to let you stay here, even with your foul mouth and crude ways. I'm the one who got you up here in the first place. They gave me a choice. Condemn you to Hell for what you did to me, or let you be here and make peace, but you make it so hard. I thought you would've changed. But I guess you just hate me that much, huh Bakugou. Hate me so much you would fuck her, after all this time."
The blonde's eyes widen, his face burning hot in anger.
"Why would you bring that shit up, it was in high school-"
"I DIED BECAUSE OF YOU."
The hall is silent, Deku's voice echoing around the walls, the words "because of you" ricocheting in Bakugou's head.
"You didn't do shit cause of me, Midoriya. You decided to do it, right?"
Deku scoffs, tears filling his eyes as he turns towards the Advisor.
"Still as blunt as ever, Bakugou. Take him away."
Bakugou turns away, spitting out an "I can do it myself" before waking out the hall, keeping his head high even as scornful Higher Ups regard him, strutting to the transporter. He gets in and pushes the button, vermillion eyes locked on piercing green ones all the way down.
♡♡
When you wake up in the morning, the bed is empty, but there's a note on your dresser from Bakugou, telling you how he's going on a little trip for a bit, but he won't forget you.
He'll never forget you.
♡♡
@boooooooooom
♡♡
Masterlist
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tatargiia · 3 years
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after hours: timeskip!miya atsumu x fem!reader
notes: none bc i'm 100% proud of this. he's hot ok...
warnings: nsfw, unprotected sex, strength kink(? idk i love his buff arms), slight choking, degradation, mentions of breeding :3
Dating a pro athlete had its downsides. For once, you weren't allowed to send him anything lewd during practice because it was just protocol (and because you rarely sexted). You also weren't allowed to have sex in the locker room after a bad match (this was decided after Suna Rintarou caught you with your hand down Atsumu's shorts after they had lost to Suna's team).
The list was more or less what you guys couldn't do sexually than it was romantically, but hey, you couldn't care less.
Because there was some things that made up for those pathetic rules.
"What the fuck is your problem?" Atsumu groans, shifting uncomfortably in the love seat as you purposely pressed your bottom against his aching cock. You turned and smiled innocently at him, offering your glass of champagne.
He snarls, but still snatches the glass from your hand and downs it. You're in a club right now, nothing special. But the whole MSBY Jackals team was here, and of course as Atsumu's fiancé, you were obligated to come.
The first part of the escapade was fun but nothing too special, with you mingling with the wives and calling up a few drinks here and there. Now, you were in a VIP booth with Atsumu that overviewed the rest of the club.
"Atsumu," you singsong, cooing and leaning backwards to press your naked back against his to provoke him even more. You knew exactly what you were doing, wearing the tiny and skimpy silk dress that exposed your entire lower back.
He glares you down. And then before you know it, he's snatching your wrist and dragging you down the halls of the VIP bar, earning you both whistles and jealous stares from girls and guys like.
"What are you —" before you can even finish your sentence, he throws you inside a room, pressing you against the door as he kisses you feverishly. You can hear the lock of the door clicking somewhere behind you, and you smirk.
"Shut up. Whores don't get to speak." he says as he undoes your the silk material holding your tits together. When the material falls from your chest and your tits bounce out lavishly, he moans and presses his face against them like he hasn't seen them since forever (which is a lie because he saw you in the shower this morning).
"Atsumu, baby, are you horny?" You tease, pressing your manicured nails against his nape and teasing his hot skin with your cool hands.
"Shut up." an empty but strong, tanned arm reaches for your neck, and you silence immediately. He continues his administrations on your skin, leaving pools of red and purple in his wake, a blood bath of lust trailing from your chest down to your pelvis.
It feels so good, you're not even going to deny it at this point. Atsumu is a literal sex god, his cock his big and thick, and he knows damn well what to do in bed every single time. It turns you on so much, you have to resist the urge to scratch his arms and leave marks.
His hand doesn't clench around your neck anymore, but it's still hovering faintly. But the thought of him manhandling you and taking your breath away, quite literally, sends a rush of endorphins down your spine.
"Turn around," he orders, and your weak body can't even comprehend anything as he turns your body himself against the door, pressing your tits against dark oak as you feel him slide the rest of tonight's dress down your thighs.
Even though your faced is pressed against wood, you can hear the sound of him throwing off his dress shirt and kicking the oxford shoes to the side.
"You're glistening, baby. Want me that bad?" he coos, teasing a thick, calloused finger in your folds. You squeal, trying to reach behind your back and grab his hand, but his arms won't let you, holding you in place as he stands in amusement, staring at your cunt.
"Your cunt is dripping, want me to fill you up? Make you pregnant with my cum?" you know he's just teasing you, trying to get a rise. But he's planted a seed inside your brain, and in your catatonic, extremely horny state, it makes you clench your legs together and let out a string of pathetic moans.
"Yes, yes please! Fill me up please," you beg desperately, spreading your legs to the best of your ability, making sure to show off your dripping cunt to Atsumu that was practically made for him.
"Do you love me that much?" he says, mouth fanning hot breathes over your shoulder, pressing his body against yours. You shiver under him.
Now, you're completely under his control.
"Yes, I love you so bad. Please, just fill me up!" you cry, and he listens. You haven't even been prepped, but that escapes your mind as soon as he thrusts in, his cock ripping your folds and you let out a loud moan.
"Shut up, bitch. Don't want anyone seeing you taking my cock like a slut now, do you?" you close your mouth and shake your head furiously, letting him have his way with you as he thrusts harder and harder.
You can still hear the thumping sound of the music outside, but it's starting to fade out as the lewd sounds of his cock inside you fill your ears. Sometimes, just to get him harder, you clench around him, and he bares his teeth with a loud, almost animalistic growl.
At this point, your body is reaching overstimulation and you feel like you're about to collapse. But like the good fiancé he is, Atsumu can sense that and as soon as you feel your limbs failing on you, his strong arms reach to hold you as he fucks you against the door.
"Baby, c'mon. You got this," he whispers praises in your ear, and it's embarrassing to admit, but it's enough for you to keep moaning and shaking, spreading your legs even more as he fucks you senseless.
"Atsumu, tsumu.. I'm gonna cum," you whisper out breathlessly, smirking at him faintly before you reach your end. He smiles back, hitching your limp body up and thrusting faster.
"Come with me, baby." and that's when the rubber band snaps. You cum, probably the largest you've ever, just as soon as you can feel a rush of warmth inside you, some white trickling down between your legs.
You turn around immediately, to his surprise, and kiss him senselessly, grabbing his jaw with your frail hands.
"I love you so bad," you breathe out, looking up to him like he has stars in his eyes.
"I love you too, baby." he giggles, smiling as he presses more kisses to your red lips, calloused hands trailing your naked body for the marks he made.
"Ahem." you hear a voice from the other side of the door. "Atsumu, y/n. We can hear you over the dj's music." That voice. You snort, trying to contain a hysteric fit of giggles as Atsumu says,
"Shut the hell up, Suna."
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littleoddwriter · 3 years
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Take My Breath Away | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader | Smut
"Hiii! Something with Roman's  hairy chest. I know Something with Roman's hairy chest" anon
A/N: I just,,, took this as a request. I hope it was one, lol. 
summary; Roman is wearing that outfit again and you’re basically just really horny for him and specifically his chest hair. 
notes; KINKS: Daddy!Kink; Body Worship; Chest Hair; Some Nipple Play; Frottage; Handjobs; Come Play/Coming on sb’s chest and rubbing it in. Male!Reader, who is rather top-y and dom here, unlike in my other fics; Lemon; PWP; Smut; Horniness.
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You've been sitting in one of the club's booths, waiting for Roman, who was getting dressed in an entirely new outfit just for his appearance at the club, and told you to go down already. Zsasz was sitting opposite of you. The two of you looked around the club in silence, scanning the area and scrutinising every patron and new guest.
Then Roman finally turned the corner, coming towards you. You choked on your own spit. Victor's gaze snapped to you, silently questioning you; but when Roman arrived and sat down next to you, you could faintly hear Zsasz's breath stutter, too.
Undoubtedly, Roman was wearing one of your absolute favourite outfits that he owned. His blue velvet suit and low-cut black cotton shirt, and of course his sunglasses and gold-black gloves. Fuck. Your mouth was practically watering at the sight of his exposed chest hair. It was definitely one of the reasons as to why you liked this outfit so much on him.
"Are you two just going to stare or actually listen to me talk, too?" Roman asked eventually, a smirk gracing his face, a mischievous glint in his eyes. That fucker.
Zsasz and you cleared your throats at the same time, looking at each other as if to reprimand one another silently for being so careless. At least you were allowed to, you had boyfriend privileges after all.
"Good boys," Roman cooed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. "Anyway, so-"
You basically tuned out immediately as soon as he started talking, as you felt his chest hair brush against your cheek, which had your brain short-circuit. For a moment, you cursed Roman inwardly because you'd definitely have to wait a few hours until you could ravish him; but fuck, it would be worth the wait, you were sure of it.
Having the side of your head pressed against his chest was incredibly calming to you all the time, mostly due to his heartbeat and overall warmth and unyielding presence; and right now it was both calming and agonising because by the ever loving fuck, you were so fucking horny. You rubbed your face against it, nuzzling into it, making his chest hair brush against your cheek, nose, lips and chin. After a while, Roman shoved you away roughly, a strained smile on his face.
"It tickles," he explained when he saw your pout.
Then he still kept an arm around you, but didn't pull you in like that anymore. It was tragic, but it would have to do until you were back in the loft.
The rest of the time that you've spent in the club went by without another incident, which was only thanks to your strong will and physically restraining yourself.
Finally, the two of you went upstairs and to your shared bedroom. Roman hated to lie on his bed with his used clothes, but you couldn't care less in that moment, and you promised to make up for it, as you pushed him down on the mattress. Then you straddled his hips, seating yourself on his thighs. You leaned over him and captured his lips in a searing kiss, as your hands crept up his torso and all the way up to his chest. There you ran your fingers through the exposed chest hair, humming appreciatively. In response, Roman wrapped his hands around your hips tightly, in a bruising grip.
Breaking the kiss, you leaned up and away from him, steadying yourself with your hands on his chest. You were both flushed and panting, Roman's chest rose and fell rapidly. You didn't know if you'd rather play with what was exposed by his shirt's collar, or if you shouldn't just rip that stupid piece of fabric off of him to get the entire expanse of his torso all to yourself. Chewing on your bottom lip, you hooked your index finger into the collar of his shirt and pulled it down a little, exposing more of his chest hair. First he gave a breathy moan, but then he tried to slap your hand away.
"This shirt cost more than everything you fucking own, you peasant! Don't do that!" he exclaimed, gripping your wrist tightly, but not painfully so.
You grinned, "I know for a fact that you have two more of those. I don't think one less would be so tragic, hm, Daddy?"
"Baby, I'm warning you. If you ruin my shirt, then-," he opened and closed his mouth a few times, as your grin only widened.
"Then what, Daddy? You'll kill me? Peel my face off?" you cooed playfully, brushing your other hand through his chest hair in circles.
"Shut the fuck up," he rasped, squeezing your hips even tighter.
You leaned down again to press a few kisses to his lips. When you leaned back again, you let go of his shirt. "Take it off, then," you said.
Roman immediately sat up and got rid of his gloves, blazer and shirt, exposing his entire upper body to you. Then he leaned back down again and you followed him, pressing your head into his chest. You nuzzled your face right into his chest hair, feeling it brush against your skin so delightfully. You fucking loved it. Then you started kissing over his chest, going from his left collarbone down to his nipple and across to his other nipple and then his right collarbone. All the while, breathy little moans and groans left Roman's lips, as he gripped onto your jeans-clad ass, kneading your plump cheeks. On top of all that, the two of you were grinding and bucking your hips, rubbing your hard, and still contained, cocks against each other.
"Fuck, baby, c'mon!" Roman groaned, moving your hips to rub against him, hard. It made both of you moan loudly.
Panting, you leaned back again and then got off of his lap. A quiet whine left him and you smiled. "Get out of your pants, Daddy."
Roman undressed to be entirely naked, just like you did. Then you climbed on top of him again, grabbing the lube from the bedside table and spread some over both of your hard cocks. After that you grasped them both in one of your hands, one of his joining and wrapping around yours. As you thrust into your closed fists, the two of you moved them in tandem, getting yourselves and each other off. With your other hand, you continued to rub over his chest, brushing through the hair and tweaking his nipples here and there.
When you were both close, you loosened your grip around your cocks to slip yours out of the tight embrace and then continued to jerk off Roman.
He came, twitching and groaning, all over his stomach. As he went limp and was panting, you stroked your hand over your own cock in a fast rhythm and moved up his body, so you straddled his stomach, just slightly under where his ribs ended.
"Daddy, can I come over your chest, please?" you asked, sounding as desperate and breathless as you felt.
Wordlessly, he nodded and then you were already coming, painting his chest with your come, moaning and groaning. When you were done, you rolled off of him and lay down beside him. One of your hands immediately found back to his chest and started to rub your rapidly cooling come into his skin and chest hair.
"Ew, gross!" Roman exclaimed, not sounding as grossed out as usual.
You grinned at him, "We're taking a shower in a few minutes anyway. You enjoy it, right, Daddy?" Your eyes flickered up to lock on his, a little unsure that maybe he really didn't like it, but he was smiling and had this glint in his eyes that you couldn't really name.
"I do," he whispered and leaned over to kiss you.
Smiling into it, you kissed him back immediately.
"You really have a thing for my chest hair, hm?" Roman asked eventually.
Flushing, you nodded, biting your lower lip. "Yeah, well, it's really- hot."
A short laughter erupted from Roman and you joined in, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Both of you were so at ease in that moment, it was like your life outside of it didn't even exist. You desperately wanted to stay there forever.
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cinnaminsvga · 4 years
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Dumbo Preview | Jungkook (M)
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→ summary: you know what they say about boys with big noses...
{or alternatively: jungkook has a big dick but he doesn’t know how to use it.}
→ genre: humor/crack, smut → warnings: they talk about dicks a lot (i.e. jungkook has a big dick), DICK MEASURING CONTESTS (aka jk gets his dick appraised... just boys bein’ boys), explicit sexual content, semi-public exhibitionism, handjobs, blowjobs, sub!jungkook, whining, light dirty talk but it’s... not on purpose??, jungkook looks soft but he’s tattoed and pierced, accidental edging (you’ll... understand) → words: anticipated 10-15K → a/n: ...listen. i am not in the right state of mind right now. i am actually bordering on insane... but that’s not gonna stop me from being a clown so this is!! something i’ve been working on for a Year now but @jincherie​ literally commissioned me to finish writing this piece of shit so here we are... here we fucking are... idk when i’m posting this but it will be Soon and i’m not ready
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It takes him a while to find an empty stool by the bar and he is unlucky enough to be squished between two couples who don’t seem to be aware that public indecency is a crime. He has to endure being jostled for five minutes straight until the bartender finally notices him and allow him to order his can of coke.
(“Sorry, kid. The banana milk is all sold out. Some girl ordered our entire stock for her friends a few hours ago.” And just like that, Jungkook wants to die all over again.)
He does not know for how long he sits by the bar. Well, that’s a blatant lie, because he knows that he’s been sitting there for 18 minutes and 34 seconds exactly. He’s checked his phone religiously every 2 minutes to see if 2 hours have passed already, just so he can ask one of his stupid friends to go home with him. Perhaps he could coerce Jimin into turning in early for once (which is a pipedream, not when the DJ seems adamant to play Jimin’s favorite Christina Aguilera song 70 times in a row.)
So in short, Jungkook is miserable. He could go home by himself, but also he doesn’t want to end up having to walk to the police station the next morning to bail his friends out after one of them inevitably destroys public property again.
Fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have thrown away his other drink.
He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice that one of the couples beside him have already left and that another person has taken their spot. He is jarred from his musings when a well-manicured hand is placed delicately on his shoulder, urging him to swivel the barstool around to face his soon-to-be acquaintance.
“Hey,” you say, a sultry smile on your lips. Jungkook feels his mouth immediately fill with cotton as he stares at your beautiful face, the dingy lighting of the club doing nothing to suppress the wicked glint in your eyes.
“Uhh… hey?” Jungkook replies, as charming and verbose as ever. If it isn’t obvious enough, Jungkook is a little lacking in the girls department, or at least, when it comes to girls-who-are-blatantly-flirting with him department. He normally isn’t this socially inept around the opposite gender, but given the connotations of this circumstance, his overactive male brain can only be restrained so much before it starts wandering towards dangerous territory.
It doesn’t help that the neckline of your dress is bordering on obscene, and Jungkook is afraid that if you move one more inch towards him, something very embarrassing might happen to the both of you (probably more so for him, if he’s being quite honest.)
“I couldn’t help but notice you from across the club and thought I should introduce myself,” you explain, gaze unashamedly trailing down his body. Jungkook can feel the heat from you radiating in waves, burning him from the inside out as he tries not to melt into a puddle in a pathetic attempt to get the fuck out of there. 
“You saw me? But it’s… so dark in here…” Jungkook wants to fucking murder himself. That’s what he decides to say to you? God, no fucking wonder he’s a virgin. Good looks really aren’t everything when he doesn’t have a brain controlling the rest of his body. There might as well be a fucking hamster running laps inside of his skull for all he knew.
Thankfully (or unthankfully––God knows Jungkook’s stress levels aren’t lowering any time soon), you find his response funny enough to warrant a chuckle. You bat your eyes salaciously at him, which Jungkook didn’t even think was possible. People can be sexy? When they blink? Apparently, you can do that. 
You shrug your shoulders. “That’s true. You caught me in a lie, I suppose. I actually knew you were coming even before you arrived.”
Jungkook chokes on his own spit then, nearly spraying you with his saliva like the dog that he is. He feels his eyes bugging out of his sockets, his body going tense with nerves. "You... you knew? What... What does that even mean?"
You point over your shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the crowd on the dance floor. "I'm friends with Seokjin over there. He mentioned you were coming with him to the club tonight so I decided to tag along."
"You know Seokjin-hyung?" The alarm bells in Jungkook's head start ringing wildly out of control. Nothing good ever comes out of being friends with Seokjin, especially since his presence alone has the power to make the creases in your brain to smoothen. Take it from someone who's been there, done that.
"Yep," you say, popping your 'p.' "I met him in my first-year English course, though I still don't know why a third-year like him was taking it in the first place."
"It's because he doesn't know how to read," Jungkook says plainly.
"I can tell. He uses voice-to-text exclusively and Siri can never spell Asian names correctly," you shrug your shoulders. "Either that, or he just doesn't know how to spell your name."
"Yea. I'm permanently John Jung Cock on his phone," Jungkook replies. He shakes his head. "Hold on, we were talking about something before this."
"Oh. About how I casually revealed to you that I was stalking you through our mutually insane friend?"
"Y-Yea, basically." Jungkook doesn't even understand what the fuck is happening right now. "I mean! Not exactly? Like, for all I know, you could've just asked hyung who he was coming with and he mentioned my name and––"
"Listen, kid. I straight up just told you I'm stalking you. Let's skip the foreplay and get to the meat of it: I'm literally following you," you say, without an inch of regret, embarrassment, or morality in your tone of voice.
Jungkook, who despite being filled with so much fear and tension enough to kill the small hamster inside his brain, is somehow able to keep his calm in front of the psychopath in front of him. Either that, or he's already in the middle of a stroke and he's lost all his fine motor skills.
"I... I don't know what to say."
"You don't need to say anything, baby," you murmur, leaning even closer to him until your chest was practically pressed against his. The thin layer of your dress and his well-worn cotton tee does nothing to help the situation (both in general and the one in his pants). He can feel your every curve, can smell the sweet perfume you're wearing; you were enveloping his senses. If he tried hard enough, he could probably count your eyelashes if he so desired with how close you were.
He knows he should probably be running away in terror right now, but he finds himself stuck resolutely to the barstool, unable to move. Maybe Jimin was right... Maybe he did have a fear kink or something.
("Isn't that just called masochism?" Jungkook asks, brows raised.
Jimin only laughs, patting him on the back condescendingly. "Nah, dude. You just straight up wanna die by the hands of a hot person, and I can respect that homie. We all have been there.")
“W-what do you want from me?” Jungkook asks, sweat lining his brow. You’re still looking at him like he was a meal, but he finds he probably doesn’t mind being devoured by you. 
Your wicked grin returns, full force. “I just want to play, Jungkook. But why don’t we discuss this… somewhere more private?”
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areluctantsblog · 5 years
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Teacher!Tony wrong number au
All of the great teacher!Tony student!Peter stories out there gave me life an idea. A while back I read @airebellah 's lovely wrong number au and I keep rereading doveslayer's adult supervision on ao3 which has some of the most amazing conversations ever written between Peter and Tony via texts and drunken late night phone calls. And then @starkerforlife6969 and @im-a-goner-foryou has been posting their incredible high school aus this week and my brain - mixing together these amazing inspirations - conjured up a wrong number au where Peter accidentally texts Tony, his physics teacher who he’s seriously crushing on. I hope, dear authors, you don’t mind I tagged you and remixed your works this way. If it’s not okay with any of you, tell me and I’ll take it down.
Without further ado, the story goes like this:
Peter's using a replacement phone and mistypes Ned's number asking for help on a physics problem (just like airebellah wrote it and I’m quoting them in the first few texts).
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 Insert Peter being mortified and panicked, barely resisting tossing the phone across the room without replying, but then he remembers having broken his own earlier. And he is polite. So, he texts back and hopes that'll be that.
But it isn’t.
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At first, the idea that it might be his teacher doesn’t even cross Peter’s mind, he’s too busy being embarrassed. Then he stares at the screen, unable to move. His homework is due in two days. It can’t be him. There is literally no way that Tony Stark's number is one digit away from his best friend's. And there are hundreds of physics teachers in the country, maybe thousands. Some are bound to be giving out assignments from the same book.
When Tony asks if he’s one of his though, Peter can’t in all honesty say that he isn’t, because what if, and then it would be a lie for more than one reason...
He feels lightheaded and has no idea what to say. He wants to put the phone away and pretend the conversation never happened and at the same time he’s dying to go on. 
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Peter has difficulty falling asleep. The next day, he tells all about what happened to Ned. His friend doesn't think it was Tony.
“I mean he's funny and sounds cool, but there must be some other cool teachers out there.”
“I don't even know if I want them to be him,” Peter muses. Then he groans. “God, no. Ned, I'm such a loser.”
With Ned’s continued reassurances that it’s okay to feel how he feels and be how he is, Peter's mood slowly evens out over the next couple of days, but he still fantasises a lot about the stranger and about texting with the real Tony as he’s started to think about him since the incident.
Sunday evening, while Peter's busy building the Lego Death Star with Ned, his phone buzzes on the desk. He's confused, because both people who know the replacement phone's number are there in the apartment. Except for the stranger he texted, but... Peter stumbles in his hurry to get his phone. 
The text is from that number. Except...
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... it’s not a stranger.
Peter stares. Ned doesn’t notice something is off until Peter starts hyperventilating. All Peter manages to choke out in response to his friend’s worried questions is
“It's him.”
It is a few minutes before Ned catches up concerned as he is about Peter. He steers his friend towards the bed and pushes him down gently, taking deliberately deep breaths all along to help him calm down.
“What’s going on?” Ned asks once Peter’s breathing has returned to normal.
“It's him, it's Mr Stark.” Peter shows his phone to his friend. “He sent this. Ned, help me, what do I do?”
Ned’s jaw drops. “Holy fuck, it’s really him,” he squeals.
“I’m gonna die,” Peter groans.
“Look, he texted you. It’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Ned reasons.
“I don’t know. What does that mean?”
“I don't know, man,” Ned admits. “Maybe he wants to talk to you. Do you want to talk to him?”
“I... I...” for all the time Peter spent thinking about ways to get close to his teacher, presented with the opportunity, he's panicked. “It seems so unreal”.
“Yeah, I know, but it's real. There is no way it's not him.”
“And he knows about the daddy thing,” Peter moans, feeling humiliation wash over him.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, man it all my fault for pushing that silly joke,” Ned say guiltily. “But look, he texted you despite that and if it comes up you can tell him the truth. I’ll take the blame.”
“Oh, god, Ned... I really, really like him. And he doesn't seem angry with me... Well except for my messy homework.” His chuckle becomes somehow hysterical.
“Shall I go now and leave you to talk to him?”
Peter is blushing a deep red. He's never felt so vulnerable, nor so excited. As he glances at Ned his eyes are pleading, but he can't fight off the giddy grin spreading across his face.
“If it counts for anything, I think you really want to talk to him,” Ned says with a reassuring smile.
“I think I do, too,” Peter whispers, feeling something hot settle at the pit of his stomach.
Ned nods and goes to grab is coat.
“Call me if you want to talk. Anytime. I'm with you in this.”
Peter's answer is to hug his best friend. When they separate Ned’s face shows pure disbelief again. “I can't believe this is actually happening. You are one lucky bastard, Peter Parker,” he huffs, shaking his head.
“You’re the best, Ned,” Peter says before he closes the door. He knocks on May's door and lets her know Ned left then scrambles back to his room.
He takes out his phone with shaking hands. As he stares at the text, he feels excitement course through his veins. Even though he has no idea what to say yet, he knows he should aim for witty and confident. The reply comes to him suddenly after a few minutes. He sends it before he can change his mind, then throws himself down on the bed and buries his face in his pillow to muffle his squeal. When his phone buzzes almost immediately with Tony’s answers, Peter sags with relief.
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Aaand that’s it. Could be the beginning of a traditional starker fic recipe the remaining ingredients being witty flirting, late night phone calls, awkward classroom eyefucking, guilt trips, several desperate and failed attempts to stop, illicit affair and eventual happy ending after Peter’s graduation, with the special spice of Ned Leeds being the best friend in the whole wide world. Despite the hint at it, there wouldn’t be any real daddy kink, because I’m not into that. But if you like it, feel free to imagine :)  Also, feel free to continue, I don’t think I’m up to it at the moment.
Update 22-01-2019: I continued this story, you can find part 2 and part 3 already posted :) have fun
08-02-2019: Part4 is here and Part5 is coming soon ;)
10-02-2019: Part5
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