#while i was in full makeup and not even really making an effort to drop my voice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ppersonna · 3 years

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swipe right - jjk | m

“ i wanna ruin our friendship. we should be lovers instead. i don't know how to say this, cause you're really my dearest friend “ - jenny, studio killers

♡ summary- after a horrible breakup, you sign back up for tinder and ironically match with your best friend, jungkook. a date for fun is harmless, right?

♡ genre- best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, jk is a minecraft streamer, brother namjoon, brother-in-law jimin, namjoon is kind of a himbo stay at home dad ngl, ex-boyfriend seokjin (mentioned but doesnt show up)

♡ word count- 9k

♡ warnings- mentions of a bad breakup (smh seokjin wtf??), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (u know the business folx), oral sex (m receiving), teasing, SO MUCH BODY WORSHIP, jk is a simp, slight dirty talk, lots of just talking during sex yall it happens, creampie, cum play, praise praise body worship praise, did i mention body worship, tit-fucking, cum eating, i think thats all.

♡ a/n - helloooo and thank you for your wait for this fic! i’m so happy its done and i loved writing it! it’s a little bit different feel for my usual style of writing (smut-wise) so please tell me your thoughts! i didn’t use dom/sub themes OR a daddy kink LMAOOOO praise me please. i hope you enjoy!! pls feel free to comment, chat, message, carrier pigeon, email, mail, WHATEVER U WANT, me. i love u babies. thank you to @kimtaehyunq for the sexy banner. and for @xjoonchildx @ladyartemesia @untaemedqueen for the writing support and idea generation. i would be nothing without my council. and thank you to my beta editors @hobi-gif and @ughseoks and @hongism for the perusal and help in writing this!

Jungkook is the person you call when your world falls apart.

He answers, voice raspy from the late hour, and the second he asks you what’s wrong, the downpour of torrential tears you’ve been holding back finally escapes and you’re sobbing through the phone that you just lost the love of your life—that he left and with little effort on his part, and a lot on yours.

Jungkook listens to you—his heart aching deep in his chest at hearing the utter heartbreak that’s clear in your voice. You’ve never been hurt like this, and he’s desperate to hold you, to make it go away. He wants to drive over to Seokjin’s house and throw a left hook into his stupid, handsome face for making you feel you weren’t worth it.

Because if there’s anything in the world that Jungkook knows, it’s that you’re worth it. You’re worth everything. Add up all the money and all the gold in the entire world, and it still doesn’t meet a fraction of what you’re worth to him.

“Where are you?” He asks as he cradles the phone against one arm and pulls on his jeans.

You sniffle. “Jungkook, it’s 3 am.”

“So? I was up playing Minecraft,” He lies. “Where are you?”

You can’t help but laugh the tiniest bit, a sliver of warmth wrapping itself around your raw and exposed heart. Like a balm to a flesh wound. It doesn’t heal it, not yet.

“I’m at our park.”

Jungkook smiles as he grips the phone back in his hand. The park. The place you and Jungkook spent your childhood playing make-believe games, and formative teenage years loitering around smoking clove cigarettes to look cool.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

You nod, even though he can’t see you.

“Okay.”

Jungkook arrives with two minutes to spare. His beat up Nissan that he insists is “vintage” and “priceless” idles next to you.

He can see you through the darkened glass of your car—your mascara is running down your face, tears streaked through your flawlessly applied makeup.

You still look so beautiful.

And it angers Jungkook that all that time you spent looking good for Seokjin meant nothing to him.

He motions for you to come over, pats the passenger seat next to him and smiles as he watches you open the door and slide into the security of his familiar car.

“You cleaned your car,” you murmur as you notice a severe lack of McDonald’s trash.

He sniffs haughtily.

“The trash added character.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond. Instead, he’s unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you as close to him as he can get you. The instant his arms wrap around your body, the floodgates open again and your once-quieted tears turn back into full-fledged sobs.

“I loved him,” you gasp through the pain in your throat.

He rubs your back, pats your hair gently, soothing you the way he has for years now. Through every breakup, through every family fight with your older brother Namjoon, through all the mean girls in high school. Jungkook is the north star—always consistent, always guiding you back to safety.

“I know, babe,” he sighs. “You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, who’s not just going to give up when things get hard.”

You choke back a cry against his Patagonia hoodie and bury your face further into the crook of his neck. He smells like Old Spice and the shampoo he uses, along with the smell of laundry soap you buy for him—he uses dish soap when he runs out and nearly broke his washing machine last time.

“I thought he was the one. I’m so stupid.”

Jungkook swallows hard. Tonight is about comforting you, not about feeling sorry for himself that you’re his best friend and not his girlfriend. He can’t help but think of what kind of life he would give you. He knows it’s one that wouldn’t end with you crying in a parking lot at 3 AM.

“You’re not stupid, you just loved him. And there’s nothing stupid about loving someone, even if it doesn’t work out,” he sighs as he cradles your head against him. It feels right having you there, pressed up against him and seeking comfort from the solace of his arms.

“Let’s go get a milkshake, yeah?” He asks as you pull your head up and look at him with sad, glassy eyes.

“Yeah,” you nod after a moment of staring.

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle with love, with hope. It makes the desperate, alone feeling inside you—disappear. Jungkook presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then starts the shaky ignition of his car, that takes three cranks of the key before it turns over.

He sends you a look, a laugh evident on your face.

“Don’t even start,” he warns. “The engine is fine.”

“Whatever you say,” you snort as you wipe an errant tear from your face.

“It’s a certified classic car! I could get millions for this baby!”

As the weeks pass, the pain of losing Seokjin becomes further and further from your mind. You can get through the day without crying anytime you see something that reminds you of him and even start flirting with others without feeling like you’re cheating.

You just still haven’t reached the point where dating someone else even feels possible. You’re terrified of allowing someone close to you, letting them into a place where you’re inviting them to possibly hurt you. You’re not sure your heart is ready for it.

“I think you’re just scared,” your older brother Namjoon states as he warms up a bottle of milk in boiling water.

He cradles his new baby in one arm while the other works at the bottle of milk.

“I’m not scared,” you huff. “I just don’t think it’s the right time.”

Namjoon sighs and hands the gurgling newborn baby off to you and readies the bottle for you to feed your new niece, Jisoo.

“Look, Seokjin sucks, okay? I know you two were together for some time, but in the end, he wasn’t the right one for you. There’s someone out there who is the right one for you. You know how many shit frogs I had to kiss before I got my prince?”

You make a face as you feed Jisoo, who happily sucks and gazes at the lights above.

“You call Jimin a prince?”

Namjoon sighs dreamily as he watches the baby and thinks of his husband.

“The dreamiest prince,” he breathes, eyes closed in bliss. “But back to your problems. I think you should get back out there. Go on some dates, meet some people. No one is telling you to fall in love and get married tomorrow. Just go have some fun.”

You allow Namjoon’s words to mull through your mind. What could be the harm in joining a few dating sites, perhaps spending some time at the gym or grocery store flirting with someone cute?

“Fine,” you say. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. I can’t be the only one giving our parents grand-babies. Soo needs a cousin.”

You smile down at the tiny bundle in your arms and imagine a future where you have a baby of your own.

“Okay, I’m not trying to get knocked up, Joon.”

“Whatever,” he sighs. “Help me choose a wall color for me and Jimin’s new master bathroom.”

Tinder’s changed since the last time you used it, years ago. It’s gone from any semblance of dating to strictly an app used to get laid.

It’s discouraging swiping through all the obvious fuckboys. Sure, a quick and easy lay sounds great, but you’re also trying to go out and enjoy real, traditional dates, and it seems none of these guys want to step foot outside of a bedroom.

The swiping left becomes almost monotonous. You’re sitting on your couch, watching some documentary about serial killers, when a startling profile pops up on your Tinder feed.

The picture that pops up is... Jungkook. You can’t stop the bubble of laughter that leaps from your chest. His profile is so authentically Jungkook that you’re swiping right before you even know it.

Your brain doesn’t even comprehend what a match with Jungkook means, really. You’re still laughing as you click on the bubble to message him and send him as many laugh emojis as you can.

“Hey guys, what’s up, Kookie here with another Let’s Play Minecraft video for ya. Be sure to like and subscribe if you enjoy this kind of content.”

Jungkook’s headset is firmly wrapped around his head, mic next to his mouth and hands at the ready on his mouse and keyboard. He’s set and in the zone.

The game is well into play when the familiar chime of his phone goes off. It’s a Tinder notification—he can tell by the sound. He can’t help but roll his eyes, wondering what sort of boring conversation he’s meant to have with a girl who will probably ghost him, anyway.

He lazily lifts his phone and glances at the notification, before dropping it back to the desk.

His hand freezes on his mouse as he finally comprehends what he just read.

He just matched with YOU.

His best friend.

His secret, lifelong crush.

He sputters something into the microphone and stops recording his game, wildly grasping for the phone and unlocking it.

YN: 😂😂😂😂 is your bio a Minecraft pickup line?!

He pauses, attempts to collect his thoughts, before desperately typing on his screen.

JUNGKOOK: Why? 😉😏 did it work?

You spend the rest of your night jokingly flirting with Jungkook, sending GIFs and emojis in between the silly lines you’re using on each other.

Right before you’re about to head to sleep, Jungkook sends one last message.

JUNGKOOK: What if we went on a date lolol. Haha jk. Unless?? 👀👀👀

Your thumbs hover over the keys to your phone.

A date with Jungkook? Even though you matched with him, you’ve never thought of a date with your childhood best friend.

YN: alright, it’s only fair since we matched 😝 show me how you treat these tinder ladies

“I have a date with Jungkook tonight,” you tell your brother, Namjoon, over the phone.

Over the crying of your newborn niece, you hear Namjoon splutter in confusion.

“You what!?” He nearly screams. “Jeon Jungkook? Like... the annoying kid you’ve been friends with since fourth grade?”

You huff.

“He’s not annoying! He’s my best friend. We ironically matched on Tinder and… Well, why the fuck not? Nothing serious is going to happen. We’ll go out and have a story to tell about how incompatible we are.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply. Instead, you hear him speak to his husband.

“She’s going on a date with Jungkook,” he says over the muffle of his hand on the receiver.

There’s a shuffle, and the dulcet voice of your brother-in-law, Jimin, comes over the line.

“Girl,” he starts. “What the fuck?”

You chuckle as you move about your closet, trying to decide what’s appropriate to wear on a date with your best friend.

“It’s nothing!”

“Mm-hmm,” Jimin tuts. “You know the boy is in love with you.”

“Okay, Chim, you’ve been spending too much time cooped up with my brother. It’s affecting your grip on reality.”

“Sure, honey. I just tell it like it is. Don’t break his heart.”

You roll your eyes.

“I won’t break his heart because there’s nothing there, Jimin.”

“I’ll be expecting your call later.”

“Yes, dad. Love you guys.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. But really, don’t break that poor boy’s heart.”

You open your mouth to retort yet another reassurance that there’s nothing to break, but the line goes dead.

“Fucking Jimin,” you mutter as you throw your phone to the bed.

You can’t allow yourself to think that Jungkook might have feelings for you. It’s totally out of the questions. He’s your best friend. The guy who shoves Cheetos up his nose to make you laugh and falls asleep during every movie night with his face in the popcorn bowl. He’s just Jungkook. This date is just a funny way to hang out.

So, why do you care so much about what you wear?

You’re still standing in front of your closet, attempting to find something respectable to wear. It doesn’t matter that the last time Jungkook saw you; it was with mascara streaming down your face and a hoodie from Namjoon’s college swimming days and ripped leggings. Jungkook has seen you in nearly everything you wear, so your indecisiveness gives you pause.

Do you want Jungkook to be attracted to you? Do you want to do your best to look as presentable as you would for a normal date?

The thudding of your heart tells you that maybe you’re more interested in this being a date than you’re allowing yourself to believe.

You shake all thoughts off.

No, you won’t allow yourself to overthink a night that should just be fun.

You settle for a fitted and simple summer dress, tights and heels. Simple, easy, respectable but also showing enough cleavage and sculpt of your ass to ensure you look more dressed up than not.

Perfect.

With one last look in the mirror, you’re ready.

JUNGKOOK: I’m outside!

ME: See you soon!

Jungkook taps his foot anxiously as he sits on the bench outside your apartment. His tight black jeans feel like a second skin on his legs, and the black button-down shirt he’s tucked in makes him rethink his choice of outfit.

Is he too casual?

He’s never really worn something like this around you. This is what Jungkook wears when he wants to seduce. This is what every girl he’s desperately wished was you got to see. The girls who swooned over his messy hair, the way his jeans display his toned thighs, the peek of skin at his throat.

Maybe it’s too much.

Maybe he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

Maybe he’s afraid you won’t like it.

He’s given no chance to ruminate anymore because you’re exiting the building and walking straight towards him.

He doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe.

It’s as if you walk towards him in slow motion. Angels chorus around him and the setting sun sparkles on your face like a spotlight. There’s nothing in the world anymore, nothing but you.

You’re the most beautiful human he’s ever seen in his life.

“Hi,” you smile as you approach him.

He continues to stare, eyes traveling over the soft curves of your cheeks and jaw, trailing down to the way your dress clings just right to each dip of your body. His throat goes dry.

You are without a doubt the girl of his dreams.

“Jungkook?”

It pushes him out of his reverie, eyes widening as he realizes he’s been staring at you for maybe a few minutes too long to play off as normal.

“Hey!” He coughs, attempting to right himself.

“You okay?” You ask, eyebrow lifted in concern.

“Yeah! Yup! Totally! I’m okay—a-okay, absolutely great.” He internally slaps himself.

“You clean up nice,” you smile as your eyes elevate up and down the lean form of his body.

“Oh?” He asks, taken aback.

In his daze, he never even realized what you’re thinking about him, rather only how intensely he was thinking about you.

“This must be the Jungkook that all the girls in college couldn’t stop begging me to hook them up with.”

His cheeks flame with sudden embarrassment, hand moving to the back of his neck to rub it awkwardly.

“Ha, yeah,” he swallows. “You look r-really nice too. I don’t think I’ve seen you in a dress since your brother’s wedding.”

The smile that he’s rewarded with nearly knocks him on his ass. “Thanks! It’s fun to dress up cute again. Jin hated this dress.”

A stab of pain eeks its way into Jungkook’s heart. Seokjin. God, how he hates that man.

“Well, uh, you can wear whatever you want with me!” He assures.

You loop your arm around Jungkook’s, saddling up to his side as you look at him expectantly.

“Well, are we going?”

Jungkook can’t help but smile at the sparkle in your eye, the way you peer up at him with those soft, cherry lips. He wants to capture them with his own, kiss you until you don’t remember Seokjin’s name ever again.

But he resists.

“Let’s go!”

You never thought you’d admit it to yourself. You never even thought it could happen.

But the date is everything you’ve ever wanted, and more.

Jungkook is still Jungkook, still just as silly and easy to talk to as he always is.

But he’s also charming. Flirtatious, even. He holds doors open for you; he rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you towards your table at dinner. He feeds you bites of his dessert and lets his eyes linger on the way your lips look wrapped around his fork.

Jungkook treats you the way you’ve always wanted to be treated. Like someone he wants to cherish for the rest of your combined lives. Someone he wants to take care of, build a future with, enjoy life with.

And as much as it thrills you, it absolutely frightens you.

It’s when you’re walking down the small river trail together that Jungkook slips his hand into yours and laces your fingers together. The once-steady beat of your heart becomes erratic. He continues chatting—as if holding your hand was a subconscious act for him. He’s knee deep in a story of his Minecraft server when you stop walking, causing him to pause.

“What’s up?” He asks curiously.

Your eyes glitter with anticipation, with fear, as you stare at the gorgeous man before you. He looks like a full course meal in his tight jeans and he makes you feel like a princess. You can suddenly see doing life by his side—no longer his platonic best friend, but as his lover and lifelong partner.

You say nothing. Instead, you simply close the space between you two by grabbing the buttons of his shirt and tugging his lips onto yours.

“Wha—oh, mmmmmm.”

Jungkook is still for a second as he battles the surprise, but jumps into action and cups your face with his hands, deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue past your lips and swirling it around your own.

Your bodies press close together. He can feel your breasts against his chest and he desperately wants to rip the dress off your body and worship you like he’s always wanted to.

As soon as the kiss started, it’s over. You’re pulling away with eyes wide with fear.

“I’m sorry, I—I need to go,” you stammer awkwardly.

Jungkook’s heart drops to his stomach.

“What? We were going to get ice cream?”

You can feel tears building in the corners of your eyes. You’re so confused, so unsure of what you’re feeling. You want to stay and kiss Jungkook until you’re clawing at the clothing on his body, pressing kisses to the firm column of his neck. You want to run far away, too scared to admit it to him you’re sure you could love him for the rest of his life.

You can’t lose that friendship. You can’t risk everything you love about Jungkook. He’ll only hurt you the way every boyfriend ever has.

“I don’t really feel well,” you swallow hard as you lie. Jungkook always knows when you’re lying.

His body stiffens.

“Okay, let me walk you home.”

You shake your head, already moving away from the man.

“It’s fine. We’re nearby. I’ll just run or something.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you’ve already turned face and started running the direction away from him.

Jungkook watches, misty-eyed, as the girl of his dreams runs further and further away from him.

You’re sobbing as you finally reach home, out of breath and confused. The phone call to Namjoon is quick.

“Yo,” he says cooly as he answers the phone. His tone changes when he hears your whimpering sobs on the other end.

“Joonie,” you whisper. “I fucked up.”

“Oh god,” Namjoon quickly shuffles and calls his husband over, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What’s happened, baby?” Jimin’s sweet voice asks.

“I—I kissed him,” you sob, holding yourself close in the comfort of the elevator.

Namjoon and Jimin look at each other with knowing looks.

“We’re on our way over.”

Jimin knows the first order of business is to stop the crying. He places sleeping baby Jisoo in your arms, which quiets your whimpers enough as you cling to the tiny baby. He knows your weakness is sleeping babies.

Namjoon looks on anxiously, hates seeing his little sister upset and with no way to make it better.

Jimin’s been asked to take the lead on this, because he knows his husband's response is to cry as well—he gets emotional anytime he sees her cry. Namjoon agreed, knowing Jimin was better suited for the conversation.

“Tell us what happened,” Jimin asks quietly. You’re rocking the baby gently, sobs turned to sniffles. “Did something go wrong on the date?”

Your eyes peer up at your brother-in-law’s, a wounded look that makes Jimin feel sad. Namjoon clenches beside him, and Jimin lays a hand on his lap to soothe the protective brother.

“No,” you whisper. “That’s the thing. It was an amazing date.”

Jimin watches you curiously, but remains silent to let you continue.

“We had dinner, and we played arcade games and we walked around. And he was so… fuck, he was perfect. It was like dating the guy of my dreams.”

Jimin nods knowingly.

“And it surprised you how much you liked him.”

“Yeah,” you sniffle. “At the end, he was holding my hand and just talking about normal, stupid Jungkook shit, but this time it felt like more. Like, I felt in my heart that I wanted to be the one he always talked to about it. I wanted to be the one he came home to at night.”

Jimin pats your cheek lovingly, the care for his sister-in-law clear in his gaze.

“You don’t just like him, honey. I think you might even love him.”

You pull baby Jisoo tighter into your grasp and nod, pathetic tears slipping down your face.

“I just left him. Like, I ran away from him like an asshole.”

Namjoon grunts and takes a spot next to Jimin. “If he loves you, which I’m sure he does, he’ll still be waiting for you.”

Jimin nods and rests a hand on his husband's back. “But you better have one hell of an apology.”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your phone calls. He doesn’t respond to your texts, snapchats or Instagram DM’s. He doesn’t even look at the TikToks you sent him! It’s becoming infuriating to get in touch with him.

You take matters into your own hands and storm to his apartment after work, the rising tension in your shoulders and stomach full of rocks an indicator of your anxiety about the future of this relationship.

Jungkook opens the door wearing nothing but a pair of grey sweats. All the carefully crafted words exit your mind at light

speed and you’re left gasping, wide-eyed at the chiseled body of your best friend.

“Can I help you?” He asks, tone flat.

Ouch.

You push past him into the apartment you know so well. “Yeah, you could start by answering your phone.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and closes the door, then heads back towards the large gaming setup in the living room.

“My apologies for not responding to the girl who literally ran away from me on a date.”

Your cheeks heat uncomfortably as you stand in the center of his living room, arms crossed over your chest.

“Jungkook, listen. I’m—”

“Please,” he shakes his head as he sits down at the impressive gaming chair. “Save the apologies. I get it.”

“You don’t get it!” You say, exasperated. “You don’t get any of it! That’s why I’m here.”

Jungkook narrows a look at you then stands from his chair. Slowly, he makes his way towards you and stands inches from your face. The proximity of his bare, toned chest to your body makes your throat dry.

“No, you don’t get it.” His voice is threateningly quiet, completely different from his usual chipper tone.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” He quirks his head sarcastically, and you’re struck by the sharp lines of his jaw. “Sorry for running away from the date? Sorry for going on a date? Sorry for making me feel like I had a fucking chance when you kissed me?”

You swallow hard and open your mouth to reply, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry too. For giving myself way too much hope that this could ever be something. I’m sorry for myself for thinking you’d at least respect me enough to reject me politely.”

“You always had a chance!” You can feel tears building in your eyes and Jungkook feels his heart pound in his chest like a drum.

He scoffs, a harsh and mirthless laugh. “Clearly not.”

“I just—,” you start. “I never saw you like that before and suddenly you became everything I’ve ever dreamed of. It was like getting hit by a train, Kook! Suddenly my best friend turned into the man of my dreams.”

He shakes his head, stepping back away from you.

“I really find it hard to believe you,” he whispers. “I can’t let myself hope.”

“Jungkook, please,” you beg as tears start slipping down your face. “Please believe me.”

“Just leave,” he sighs. “I hate making you cry.”

You want so badly to wrap yourself in his arms, cry into his chest like you always do when you’re hurt. But you stand still, frozen in your shame and embarrassment of hurting your best friend so badly.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, before you spin around as quickly as you can and leave Jungkook’s apartment in a flurry.

He watches as the door slams behind you, eyes full of sadness and regret. As much as he wants to believe you, have faith in every word you said, he can’t allow himself to get his hopes up again.

He can’t watch you run away from him again.

“Welcome back to Kookie’s Wild Weekly Walkthrough!” Jungkook cheers as enthusiastically as he can through his microphone. “The weekly segment where I react to your Minecraft worlds!”

Jungkook needed to dive back into streaming to take his mind off of you. He hasn’t left his apartment in days, only subsisting on takeout and coffee. At least he was making more money and his subscribers didn’t seem to mind the up-tick in content.

“Tonight I’ll be walking through a creation sent by,” he squints at the username. “‘Kookiesgal95’ Aww that’s cute.”

He readies the content and starts his camera as he watches the YouTube link. His subscribers love his reaction videos—it’s a highly requested segment.

The video starts off easily, a generic Minecraft world that looks like a park.

“Hi Kook.”

The voice that reverberates through his headphones makes him pause the video quickly, wide-eyed with recognition.

It’s you. He’d know that voice from a million others.

Shit. He’s going to have to edit so much of this clip. He’s staring at the screen as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Unsteadily, he clicks play again and watches as you lead him through your Minecraft creation.

“I wanted to recreate something for someone very special in my life.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother to react to this anymore. This entire video is going to be worthless—there’s nothing he can say.

The video pans around the Minecraft setup and he can see what looks like handmade swings and merry go rounds.

“It took me a really long time to do this and an embarrassing amount of help from some twelve-year-olds on the internet.”

He laughs and is stunned by the wet tears rolling down his cheeks. He hadn’t realized he was crying.

“I re-created a park that is really special to my best friend and I.”

He feels his chest tighten and relax. The park.

“This is the spot where he held me when my dog died when I was nine. I still miss that dog.”

The view is on a spot next to a blocky oak tree. Jungkook remembers that day, remembers your heartbroken sobs as he whispered words of comfort to you. He misses that dog, too.

“This is where he and my brother got in a fight when we were eleven, because my brother called me a stupid-head. My best friend has always been protective of me, even from my own big brother.”

He can still remember pushing Namjoon around after hearing him call you names. He pushed Namjoon over and threatened to use his “big muscles” if he did it again.

The camera pans to an enormous structure, rather sloppily made, of a slide and monkey bars.

“This is where we first shared a joint in high school. I coughed a lung up and he ran down the street to a gas station at ten pm to get me a bottle of water even though I told him I was okay,”

The memory of the bewildered 7-11 employee plays through his mind. The man watched as a very stoned, very out of breath, Jungkook paid for a bottle of water in coins.

The video continues playing, moves towards what appears to be a parking lot made of cobblestone blocks.

“This is where he held me when my world fell apart.”

The break-up. The way you cried and cried and cried in his arms and he held you as if you were the only thing left on Earth.

“This is where he reminded me I’m worthy of love, that I’m not broken. This is where he held me like I was delicate, but treated me like I was unbreakable.”

His tears don’t stop. Jungkook feels his heart thundering in his chest like a summer storm.

He can hear your sniffles through the recording of the video—you were crying too. It pans around to the swing set.

“And this is where I’ll tell him everything, tonight. Where I’ll tell him how deeply I love him and how I want to make him the happiest guy in the world. In all of Minecraft and beyond. I hope he comes.”

Jungkook doesn’t even bother turning his camera off.

Instead, he’s running to change out of his three-day-old clothes and bolt out the door.

The creaky, rusty metal of the swing set is deafeningly loud in the silence of your park.

It’s dark, just a few street lights around to illuminate the perimeter, but it’s otherwise only lit by the moon.

It’s getting cold. You shiver in your hoodie and kick at the dirt under your swing.

Maybe he didn’t see the video. Maybe he wasn’t going to show.

Maybe it was too late.

You spent hours working on the Minecraft world, staying up at all hours of the night to build and craft a poor re-creation of this park. The twelve-year-olds on Reddit had been invaluable and Namjoon definitely made fun of you for your creative assistants. But it had all been worth it.

“Fuck,” you speak out loud to no one, as you try to warm your hands in the pockets of your sweater. “It’s cold.”

“You should have brought a jacket.”

The sudden voice from behind startles you. You hop off the swing and whip around to face down the intruder.

Jungkook.

He looks so good. He’s wearing a thick coat and tight jeans. Your eyes take a delicious journey from head to toe.

He can’t help but preen at your blatant appreciation. He enjoys knowing you’re attracted to him, at least physically.

“You came.”

He nods and takes a nervous step towards you. He’s still far away, more than an arm's-reach away. You’re desperate to bring him closer, to pull him tight against your body and wrap yourself around him. You never want to be without his gentle touch again.

“I felt pretty compelled to come after you made all this in Minecraft for me.” He cracks a wry smile, a boy-ish grin that makes your heart flutter.

“It took me twenty-five hours and some teenagers to help.”

He laughs, a beautiful sound that warms you. “I’m sure they were ecstatic to help.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, nervous at what he thinks about your in-game confession.

“Did you mean it?” He asks. He steps closer—one more step.

“Every word.”

His eyes are searching yours for the truth, desperately diving into the depths for validity.

“Why did you run away?” Another step.

You swallow hard, heavy tears brimming in your eyes.

“You went from being the silly best friend to being the person I could spend the rest of my life with. It all hit me. It’s always been you.”

One more step and now he’s just within your reach. If you stuck your hand out, your fingers would graze the soft puff of his coat, the delicate skin of his neck.

“I’ve always felt that way about you. I never thought you’d feel the same.”

You smile softly, timidly. “It just took me a little while longer to realize it.”

All at once, Jungkook closes the gap and holds you gently by your cheeks. His thumbs wipe at the moisture under your eyes.

“I promise to never make you cry again,” he whispers reverently.

“And I promise to never run away from you again.”

Jungkook smiles at that, cradling your face like you’re the most expensive and precious jewel.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asks, somewhat unsure of himself.

“I would like it if you would.”

As Jungkook presses his cold, plush lips to your own, you make a promise to yourself to never go a day without kissing him again.

“I can’t believe you’re in my bedroom,” Jungkook murmurs as he kisses at your face. After the park, Jungkook loaded you into his priceless Nissan and scurried home. You could hardly keep your hands off him as he drove you back to his place—reaching and caressing the spots on his body you’re dying to become familiar with.

“I’ve been in your bedroom before,” you remind him as he tugs up the hoodie you’re wearing.

“God, don’t be so semantic when I’m trying to fuck you,” he says before throwing the hoodie to a corner of the room. “You know what I mean.”

Jungkook kisses you again, all lips and teeth and tongue. He kisses you like you’re the last breath of air, and he’s greedy for every bit. He grips your hips, not too tight, and brings your body against his. You can feel him grow in hardness in his too tight, and it feels like bliss.

Teasingly, you grind your hips against his, making him shudder with desire.

“I want you,” he whines as he nibbles at your lip.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

He opens his eyes to level a look at you, pulling his mouth away from yours.

“You’re such a little smartass.”

His hands become feverish on your jeans, tugging apart the button and flicking down the fly. He pushes them down quickly, and you kick them off carelessly.

He can’t stop looking at you in your bra and panties, standing at the foot of his bed.

“Holy shit, okay, this is happening, right? Like, this is real?”

You smirk, pleased with Jungkook’s obvious excitement.

“Let me prove it’s not just a dream.”

Softly, you spin Jungkook around and push him down to sit on his bed. He complies easily, eyes wide and excited.

“If this is a dream, would you be able to feel this?” You ask as you unbuckle his belt and open his jeans. He doesn’t reply, simply watches you as you tug his jeans down to his thighs.

His cock strains hard against his tight boxers, and you run a teasing finger over the obvious bulge.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes.

“Feels pretty real, huh?”

“Y-yeah.”

Your delicate hands gently tug at the waistband of his boxers and easily work them down enough to free the length of his cock. It springs out easily and your eyes widen at the impressive size. You assumed he would be at least average, but you’re looking at something definitely more.

“Oh wow,” you whisper. “You’re fucking huge.”

Jungkook grins. “All for you, baby.” The cockiness is palpable.

One solid grip around him wipes the presumptuous smile off his face, replaced with a gasping, shuddering moan.

“How about this? Not a dream?”

He struggles to find his voice, instead he’s gulping for air like a fish out of water.

“That’s what I thought,” you whisper before settling into a position on your knees. “I’ll admit, I’ve dreamt about this too. I always felt so ashamed for dreaming about sucking my best friend's cock.”

You press soft kisses to the head of his length, teasing the sensitive areas at the tip before kissing up and down the length.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

His evident desire for you encourages you, and your tongue swipes at the crown of his tip and swirls around it gently.

“Oh my god.” His eyes shutter closed and you trace the veins in his dick with your tongue.

“This h-has to be a dreeeaaaaam,” he whines as you make an exceptionally long stripe with the flat of your tongue.

You pull off for a moment, humming. He springs his eyes open and watches as you reach behind your back and unsnap your bra. Your breasts escape with a bounce and his eyes widen, nearly bulging out of their sockets.

“What the fuck,” he whines. “You have the most amazing tits.”

He reaches out to grasp them and you slap them away playfully.

“Not yet,” you smirk. “Still trying to convince you you’re not asleep.”

He sucks in his breath and puts his hands back to the bed to steady himself, eyes never leaving yours (except to stare at the luscious curves of your body).

Grasping your breasts in both hands, you smash them together lightly in an elaborate show of what Jungkook wants most. You lean over his body and place the throbbing thickness of his cock in between your tits, allowing him to feel just how soft and warm they are.

“Shit!” He yelps, grabbing his sheets in a tight fist. “Are you really tit-fucking me right now?!”

Slowly, you lift your body up and down, allowing his cock to feel each stroke of your breasts. You nod at his question and continue to pump up and down.

“Still dreaming?”

He whines and shakes his head, already feeling so close to the edge. His cock is slick from your teasing licks and the pressure of your tits surrounding him had his mind spinning with desire.

“Ahhh, I’m so fucking close,” he warns.

You continue, speeding up the friction and pressure of your strokes.

“I want you to cum on me, Kook,” you whisper encouragingly. “Cum on my tits, please?”

Jungkook feels like he’s a wire about to snap, and your thick, sultry voice and incredibly perfect breasts are the snips that breaks him apart.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts. “Gonna paint your titties white, baby.”

His moans echo around the walls of his bedroom, small gasps of pleasure and your name escaping his perfectly plump pout.

His hot load splatters on your chest, and you stroke him through each pulse of his cock. You’re slippery with his seed now, and when you pull away from his spent length, you make a show of rubbing in his cum over your chest.

“Okay, definitely not dreaming,” he says in a daze as he watches you lift a wet finger to your mouth, popping it in to clean it off. “Who knew you were so fucking kinky?”

His confidence grows as he catches his breath. He can’t believe he’s sitting on his bed with you on your knees, breasts covered in his load. You’re suckling the cum off your finger like it’s his cock, and he’s desperate for more.

“There are lots of things you don’t know about me,” you shrug.

Swiftly, he grabs you gently by your bicep and pulls you close, sucking at your lips until you’re both standing.

“I plan to find out everything.”

Suddenly, you’re switching positions and Jungkook is pushing you down into the bed. You lay flat in the center, body relaxed and eager for your best friend.

“What are you doing?” You ask. He’s still standing at the end of the bed, watching you get comfortable. Once he’s satisfied that you’re lying exactly how you want, he settles himself by your feet.

“Worshipping you,” he says as he lifts an ankle and presses gentle kisses to your calf. “Showing you how much I adore you.” More kisses, soft and sweet. “Showing you how I plan on treating you for the rest of your life.”

He takes his time, lavishing your legs with his mouth. He kisses and sucks at any spot, sexual or not. He mouths at the roundness of your knees, your firm hamstrings. He presses his love into the skin of your thighs, mouthing his praises with each kiss.

He reaches the dip of your hips and he gently kisses your exposed skin as he tugs your cotton panties off you.

“I have loved every inch of you since before I can remember,” he praises as his lips skim over the mound of your cunt. “And I don’t plan on stopping soon.”

Your body feels like it’s on fire, as if Jungkook lights a match at every spot his lips press against. Your eyes close, and you allow Jungkook to continue his pious worship of your body.

He teases around your folds, kissing your labia ever so gently—making you gasp. He doesn’t linger long, only kisses you enough to stir the licking flames of heat in your belly.

He kisses at your stomach, gently nibbling and laving at the softness there. You try to hide from him, try to hide your insecurities of your body in his thorough exploration, but he moves your hands.

“I know you don’t like this part of your body,” he murmurs. His voice is so soft, so pure and sincere. “But I do. I love everything about you.”

His tongue swirls around your belly button, making you gasp at the ticklish sensation.

“You’re so pretty. So perfect.”

He continues upwards, lips now trailing to your full breasts. He takes his time there, licking and kissing and flicking at your nipples with his tongue. It feels exhilarating—Jungkook’s mouth feels like everything you want it to feel like. His tongue is warm, and he bites with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed into his embrace.

His hands explore, taking stock of every millimeter of skin he can find. He wants to memorize every freckle, every bump, every scar and line. Your body is his paradise, and all he can think of is you, you, you.

One hand travels down your body as he moves his lips up your neck. It snakes down your stomach and deftly slides over your soaked core. You whine as you feel his fingers part your folds and dip into the wetness.

“So wet,” he says out loud, verbalizing every tantalizing detail of your body. “So perfect.”

His lips are finally at your own and you kiss him passionately, tongue swirling around his as he slides his two fingers past your clit and into your drenched hole. You gasp against his mouth, eyes widening as he slowly scissors his fingers into you and pumps slowly. It’s almost teasing, the way he fucks his fingers in you. Slow, firm movements with his powerful hands.

“Jungkook!” You gasp. He doesn’t reply, instead he bites at your lip and tugs, then trails his hot mouth back down to your nipples. He can’t get enough of your breasts and the slightly salty taste of him still lingering.

“You feel so good,” he says as he speeds his fingers up minutely. “So tight and wet for me.”

Your hips writhe in need. He’s giving you what you need, but not enough. You need more, more. You want to feel him, all of him, spearing you open.

“Please, Kook,” you groan. “I need you.”

He laughs softly against your nipple and sucks extra hard, letting it pop out of his mouth audibly.

“And I need you, my love.”

“Fuck me, please.” You’re desperate, thighs quaking from the slow teasing. “I want you to fuck me, Jungkook.”

Chills shudder down Jungkook’s spine and he’s powerless to say no, not when you demand it so well.

“With pleasure,” he agrees. He pulls his fingers from within you and copies your move, sliding them into his mouth to suck your essence off.

He’s never looked sexier. His eyes are dark chocolate pools of burning intensity, and you feel your breath become shaky as you watch him clean his fingers with precision.

After he’s deemed his fingers sufficiently clean, he settles himself between your legs. Easily, he lifts your hips and shoves a pillow underneath, elevating you to a more comfortable position. He grabs your legs and tosses each over his shoulders so they’re higher in the air.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he promises as he rubs the tip of his cock on your soppy slit. “Condom?”

You shake your head, appreciative of his question but desperate to feel him completely.

“Birth control. Regularly tested. Haven’t had sex in a while,” you blurt out. “You good?”

He nods in agreement. “Same. Well, except the birth control. But, I’d take it if they made it for men.”

“Jungkook!” You whine. Your best friend is so easily sidetracked. “Please, can you fuck me?”

He grins. “Tsk, someone is impatient.”

A low moan is rumbling in your chest as he continues to rub his thick cock at your entrance.

“I swear to god, you’re the biggest tease.”

“Oh, I’m definitely the biggest.”

Before you can react, he’s pushing past your entrance and sliding deep in your walls. Your position makes his cock feel deep, and he bottoms out and stills there, eyes closed in bliss.

“Holy shit,” he gasps. “This is absolutely the best pussy I’ve ever felt.”

You wiggle your hips as you get used to the sensation of the delicious stretch.

“Please don’t tell me how many pussies you’ve felt when you’re balls deep inside of me.”

Jungkook turns his head and kisses at your legs resting on his shoulders, lavishing them with his praise once more as he keeps his cock buried inside your tight heat.

“Yours is the only one that matters. The only pussy I’ll ever be in for the rest of my life.”

“That’s a good answer,” you smile. “Now, fuck me, lover boy.”

Jungkook winks and grips your hips with his hands. He swiftly pulls out, enamored with the way his cock is already covered in your creamy essence, then eagerly pushes back in. He sets a pace and soon the sound of skin clapping on skin echoes around the room.

“Oh god!” You’re moaning loudly, unabashedly. You’re thankful that Jungkook’s old roommate, Yoongi, moved out to live with his boyfriend Hoseok months ago. He’d definitely complain about the noise for months. “Fuck, Jungkook, you feel so good.”

Jungkook fucks into you with ferocity, speed and power gradually rising as he feels his core tighten with the coming anticipation of release.

“Mmm, you look so fucking sexy like this,” he murmurs. “Getting fucked by your best friend’s fat cock.”

He moves a hand from your hip, trails it up your body to squeeze at your breast, before he’s cupping your face once again. His hips snap against yours and he loves the way your mouth utters little squeaks and gasps with each deep thrust into you.

“God, my beautiful girl,” he groans. “Can’t wait to cum in this pussy, shit, you got me so fucking close.”

You open your mouth desperately and Jungkook easily slips his thumb in. You latch on quickly and suck, tongue swirling around the tip like you’re sucking another cock. It nearly sends him over the edge and the speed of his hips matches his desperate need for more.

“Fucking hell,” he bites back. He can feel his belly tighten, driven further and further to the edge by the constricting wetness of your cunt.

He pulls his thumb out and moves it down to where his cock spears into you, allowing your spit to swirl with his thumb around your clit. Your core tightens around him at the added stimulation and your back arches up in ecstasy.

“I’m so c-close, Kook,” you plead, as if begging for mercy. “Please, I want to cum so bad.”

The speed of his thumb increases, and he watches as your face twists in pleasure and desperation.

“Cum on my cock, baby, let me see you fall apart. Show me what I’ve dreamt of for so long.”

A high and wanton cry ripples out of your body as he savagely increases his speed, both his cock and thumb working overtime to drive you towards your end. The butterflies that erupt in your lower stomach make your moans louder, higher. You’re so close, closer than ever. It’s building to an incredible crescendo.

He can tell you’re close—he sees it on your face as your back arches and your fists grip his sheets.

“You look like a fucking angel, baby,” he whines as he soaks in the vision of you writhing underneath him. “I bet you cum like an angel, too. Let me see it, let me see.”

With just a few more swirls of his thumb and his deep, hard strokes, you’re soaring over the edge into a pool of nothingness. Your cunt pulsates wildly around his length, milking and stroking it with your tight walls. You throw your head back, moaning out his name at the top of his lungs, letting his neighbors know just who fucks you so well.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, hips stuttering as he fucks into your juicy hole. “That was so fucking sexy.”

You grip his forearms, holding onto him tight and encourage him to go harder. “Cum inside me, Kookie, please. I’m all yours, make me yours.”

His heart feels like it might burst in his chest. He’s always wanted you to say it to him, to hand over your love to him like he does so easily to you. It’s all so much, so overwhelming, and the feeling of your hot cunt still fluttering around him sends him reeling into his own completion.

He spills into you, warm seed coating your walls and pooling inside your womb. He fucks himself through each throb of his cock until he’s sure he’s drained every ounce of himself into you.

Your legs slip off his shoulders easily, and he gently pulls himself out of you. He falls beside you, panting with exertion, and wraps an arm around you.

After a few silent moments of catching your breath, Jungkook pulls you in close to him until he can koala-cling to you, arms and legs both wrapped around your body.

“Mine,” he whispers as he kisses your head. “All mine.”

You return the favor, clinging to your best friend—boyfriend—like he’s your only lifeline.

“All yours.”

“So, you’re telling me, you got together because of Minecraft?” Jimin asks, pointing a fork in your direction. It’s been months now since your grand virtual declaration of love for Jungkook. Months of bliss and romance, laughter and companionship.

You were right all along. Jungkook is everything you’ve wanted in a man and more.

You’re sitting at your brother’s expensive dinner table, enjoying a meal with his family with your boyfriend at your side.

“Yeah, Jimin, I guess that’s what I’m saying,” you retort as you roll your eyes. “Minecraft and Tinder.”

Baby Jisoo is awake and in your brother’s arms, but she’s whining and wiggling to leave him.

“What’s wrong, Soo?” Namjoon asks with a pout on his lips. “Why don’t you want daddy anymore?”

Jimin snorts at his husband and you hold out your arms for your baby niece. “Come here, baby, I know you want auntie.”

Namjoon dutifully hands over his daughter, sulking that he’s been picked over for his sister.

You cradle the baby in your arms, expecting her to calm once she’s there, but she continues to fuss. She’s thrusting her arms out and nearly crying, reaching towards Jungkook who’s busy chowing down on Jimin’s homemade ramen.

“I think she wants you, Kook,” you murmur. He looks at you, then to the baby, then back to you, before he wipes his hands and face clean with a napkin.

“Oh, okay,” he whispers, slowly taking the baby from your arms with your help. “Hello, ma’am.”

Namjoon and Jimin laugh. “She’s a baby, Jungkook, not an elderly woman,” your brother teases.

Jungkook doesn’t listen. He’s too busy cooing at the baby in his arms and playing with her tiny hands. Namjoon turns his attention away and looks at you.

“Guess I won’t be the only provider of grandchildren for much longer.”

You playfully glare at him and turn away to watch your boyfriend. Watching Jungkook interact with your niece makes your heart swell, your soul sing. He’d be a perfect father.

“I swear, if he teaches her how to play Minecraft, he’s banned from the household,” Jimin grumbles. “This is a No-Nerd-Zone.”

Jungkook cradles the child and rocks back and forth, singing her a soft, made-up song, before he looks over at you.

“Hey, I want one of these,” he smiles. “Can we have one?”

You lay a hand on your stomach, a soft bump not quite visible yet. It’s only been one test, the lines faintly indicating ‘positive’ on the stick. You wanted to make sure, get confirmation before you spill the beans.

“Sure, Kookie.”

He grins and leans over to kiss you, before turning his attention back to the baby. “Okay, Jisoo, now let me tell you all about the Endermen.”

Jimin groans. “Oh my god, do not give Minecraft facts to my infant!”

tag list - @giadalin @nohayarcoirissintormenta @pjmislovely @xhazmania @marcoazam2 @eggbutnotyolk @feel-the-sunset @unicornbabylover @aretha170 @jeonmisha @hordanhearsawhooo

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fic #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook #ficswithluv #jjk smut #bts fics #jjk fic #jungkook fic

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oomisluvr · 3 years

Text

sakusa takes care of a drunk reader, a drabble

synopsis: y/n is talking to a stranger about her sex life and kiyoomi is on damage control. it's an uphill battle to finally tuck her into bed. give this man a break, please.

“he be blowin’ my back out, girl.”

“she means we very gently and very passionately make love.”

“just beatin’ this pussy up!”

“i do no such thing.”

“absolutely drillin’ and killin’ my shit.” you motion with your hands. sakusa reaches out to stop you, a blush deep on his face.

“y/n.”

“this boy folds me like a pretzel.”

“y/n!”

“my ankles be touchin’ my ea- mmph!”

sakusa covers your mouth with his hand, “you’ve lost your talking privileges. give me your drink, babe,” you glare at him, defiance burning in your eyes. he glares right back, “now, y/n.” he looks to the woman you were talking and apologizes on your behalf.

you relent, releasing your grip on the drink you were holding. sakusa take it and relaxes the hold he has on you, "you always kill my fun, omi!"

"no, i keep you safe." his gaze softens and his voice follows, "c'mon, it's late now. let's get you home."

you're surprised by the gentleness in his tone. wordless, you nod, extending your arm for him to take and lead you out of the club. it's raining tonight, and sakusa all but demands you to stay at the entrance doors while he runs to get the car.

you'll get emotional if you think about it too much, about exactly how much he sacrifices for you. he accommodates for you in every aspect of his life, oftentimes without you ever having to ask. you're part of him, an extension of his own body. he quite literally could not live without you. he loves you, with everything in him. he really didn't have to come out with you tonight, but you know he did it because he cares about your safety.

when the car pulls up, sakusa jumps out, umbrella in hand, escorting you to the passenger door, opening it, and closing it once you got situated. you giggle at the little jog he does to get to the driver's side. the sound of rain hitting the windshield makes you sleepy. upon noticing your tired state, kiyoomi removes the jacket from his shoulders, draping it across your figure. you yawn, snuggling into the heavy fabric and allowing his scent to lull you to sleep.

the next time you wake up, sakusa's at the passenger side of the door, lightly shaking you.

"c'mon, we're home now." he stretches his hand to pull you out, closing the door behind him, and snaking an arm around your waste, bringing you to your shared apartment.

after fumbling with the keys, he unlocks the door and kicks off his shoes, turning the lights on. sakusa leads you to the couch, descending on one knee to remove your heels, fighting with the straps and buckles.

"try taking it off with your teeth."

"try tak- what the hell? i'm not doing that."

"awww, c'mon, you know you like my feet."

"y/n, stop being weird," you wiggle your toes, making him loose his grip on the clasp of your shoes, "and stop moving."

you giggle, still feeling buzzed from all the alcohol you downed, "i know you secretly have a foot kink."

"i do not."

"it's okay, it's okay," you soothe, roughly ruffling his hair, "it's just me and you here. you can tell me if you wanna suck on my toes. i won't judge," finally removing your shoes, sakusa stands to his feet, stretching his hand for you to take.

"i don't know where you're getting this from, but you need to go to bed. i think you're delirious." you pout like a child, not wanting the fun to be over.

"fine. only if you carry me." you flop back on the couch to emphasize your unwillingness to walk yourself, stretching your arms up, "please, oomi?"

you're so cute, but sakusa can't let you know that. huffing loudly, he bends down to pick you up with ease, arms hooked under your legs and back, "you owe me in the morning. i didn't sign up for this."

you giggle, enjoying the attention from him, "you're so strong, oomi. look at these muscles." you grab his bicep, "what is this? a bowling ball? is there bowling ball in here? did you eat a bowling ball?" sakusa fights back a smile, but a blush manages to break through.

strolling through the bedroom, sakusa drops you on the bed, leaning down to kiss your forehead, mumbling in your ear, "why are you only nice to me when you're drunk, hmm? pretty girl." leaving you on the bed, sakusa digs through your dresser, approaching you with your usual pajamas, "put this on."

"no." you resist.

"y/n."

"put them on me." you kneel up on the bed, manipulating your arms and back to reach the zipper of your dress, dragging it down and shimmying out of the loose fabric, "look, i made it easy for you."

sakusa will never get used to seeing you in just a bra and panties, and his face turns beet red at the sight. you're sitting on your thighs now, legs folded behind you, feet touching.

"you're so difficult," he sighs, his blush only deepening when he moves to touch you, "arms up." you giggle, shaking your head and crossing your arms, he clenches his jaw in an effort to focus on the task at hand.

"oomi~" you flirt, "i still have my bra on. i can't sleep with a bra on. it's not good for me."

"then take it off."

"take it off for me."

"y/n."

"i won't go to bed until you do."

"fine. turn around." you shuffle on the bed, your back now facing him. with anxious hands, he unclasps your bra, the soft fabric falling to the bed. your bare back greets him, and he bats away impure thoughts. before you can turn around, sakusa grabs your arms and forces the shirt on you.

"oomi! don't be so rough."

"then listen and i won’t have to be so rough,” yanking the shirt over your head, he sighs, “there. all done.” you’re scrambling to get under the covers when sakusa grabs your ankle, “not yet. you need to do your skin care,” you open your mouth to protest, but kiyoomi interupts you, “let me guess, you want me to do it?”

you nod your head in excitement, “carry me oomi!” scooping you up, he carries you to the bathroom, setting you on the counter space. you’re rambling about god-knows-what, incoherent and broken sentences flow from your lips. sakusa tries his best to listen, he really does, but he can’t tel the difference between makeup wipes and micellar water.

“sorry to interrupt you, angel,” he kisses you on the forehead to calm your protests, “but which one do i use? the micellar water, right? you said the wipes burn sometimes...”

“aww oomi,” you bring your legs to wrap around his legs, pressing him into you, “you know me so well,” you mumble against his lips. your arms wrap around sakusa’s neck, hands tangling into the soft hair at his nape, lips building a rhythm against his.

it takes everything in sakusa to stop you, but he knows where kisses like this lead and getting you in bed is top priority.

“no, y/n,” he breaks the kiss to peer into you, “you need rest.” his eyes are soft and full of love, “let me take care of you, baby. sit still, please.” you nod and give him a quick peck, a silent promise to give him the reigns. relaxing the hold your lags have around him, kiyoomi gets to work.

he dabs the micellar water on your reusable cotton pad, gently swiping it across your face. you close your eyes, humming and mumbling the words of a song he heard earlier. using this time, sakusa admires the softness of your face, love swelling in his chest.

“all done.” you kiss his cheek in thanks, moving to hop off the counter. his hands fly out to hold your hips, keeping you placent, “not so fast.” he moves away from you, searching through the cupboards to find all the pieces of your routine.

after gathering his materials, he starts with dropping a clear, cool serum on your face.

“remind you of anything?” you joke, giggling mindlessly at your own joke.

"stop talking."

"boo, go back to being nice!"

"shh!"

you sigh loudly, swinging your legs and humming louder. sakusa works moisturizer into your skin with such vigor, your body starts to move. for good measure, he squeezes your cheeks, making your lips appear fish-like, laughing when you whine, "oomi, stop! let me go! are you done yet?"

moving to put all your things away, he nods, "yes, y/n. all done."

"carry me back then!"

"i lied. you still have to brush your teeth." you open your mouth to speak, "and no, i will not brush them for you."

"but i'm tired!"

"too bad. look, i even put the toothpaste on for you." he hands you the toothbrush. you snatch it out of his hands and vigorously brush your teeth. smiling at your attitude, sakusa begins to do his own nightly routine.

looking at him through your peripherals, you admire his physique. he really is built like a greek god. shamelessly, you rake your eyes over his body, observing the contraction of his muscles; the way the light reflects from his skin. sakusa kiyoomi truly is beautiful. catching your stare, he pokes your stomach.

"stop looking at me."

"what? i can't look at you?" foam flies everywhere.

"not like that."

"like what?"

"like you want to eat me."

"i do." you spit out the toothpaste, rinsing your toothbrush and putting it away.

you straightforwardness makes him blush, "tomorrow. i'm all yours tomorrow, but for right now-" he approaches you, his lean frame towering over your own, "-let's get you in bed."

you don't have to ask him to carry you; he does it anyway, throwing you over his shoulder and laying you on the bed.

"are you going to tuck me in, oomi?"

"what kind of question is that? of course i'm going to tuck you in."

i know i reference sakusa picking the reader up a lot but this man is 6'4" 176.8 pounds (192 cm, 80 kg) and could therefore bench press you without breaking a sweat, no matter what your weight is. my baby is strong. periodt.

#not proud of this one ://#i hate it #lowkey #sakusa #kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #msby #msby sakusa #msby sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa fluff #sakusa x reader #sakusa fic #sakusa oneshot #sakusa drabble

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years

Note

can you write something about cheating harry and yn acting like a proper couple in front of anna, like harry with his arm around her and kissing her head and stuff, and anna is just standing there fuming and maybe tries to get physical with yn

Love Your Broken Pieces

warnings: cheating; mentions of trauma and domestic abuse

if you enjoy please consider donating $3 to my ko fi.

(any donations over $15 get a guaranteed blurb written of their choosing!)

reblog, like, comment, & come chat!

YN really really didn’t want to go out.

She wasn’t going to tell Harry that because it was a celebratory dinner for him because he’d just won Entrperur of the yearand she wasn’t going to ruin it.

It’s not that she didn’t want to celebrate his achievement.

She was so so proud of him but her therapy session had got moved up a day because the therapist had to go out of town.

YN didn’t want to bother him so she had went herself without telling him.

It was trauma-focused therapy which meant it was intensive, draining, and overall triggering at time.

Today had sparked a new memory that she had suppressed and she was really struggling to get through the day without his support.

She shouldn’t need him for everything. It wasn’t fair to him.

So she’d sat on her bed for thirty minutes before she managed to pull on a nice dress before curling her hair - zoning out and accidentally burning herself lightly.

Harry had to pick up Anna, offered to pick up YN.

“Hey pup, y’want me t’pick you up on the way?” Harry had called while she was swiping on mascara.

“No, I’ll just Uber,” YN try to keep her tone light but couldn’t stomach sitting in the car with that disgusting woman right now.

“No, let me come get you,” He insists, always preferring to drive her around over some stranger.

“I really don’t want to be in the car with Anna, okay? Just drop it,” YN replies a bit too tersely.

There’s a pregnant pause.

“What’s wrong, puppy?” Harry knows her much to well.

She couldn’t help but bristle, “Nothing. I just have to get ready. Okay? I’ll see you there.”

YN shouldn’t have hung up like that but her hands were shaking and it was taking all of her might to pull herself together to go.

“It’s all your fuckin’ fault your mum hates me,” Her dad had spat at her, right in the kitchen after dinner.

“Fuck,” She mumbles to herself as she drops her lipstick and it rolls under the dresser.

—

She canceled two Ubers before she found a driver who didn’t seem intimidating.

It made her fashionably late, everyone already seated, and it doesn’t make it any better when Anna greets her.

“About time. Can’t even make it at a respectable time for your supposed best friend’s dinner.”

Anna and Gemma both make a grimacing face at the rude comment but Harry interrupts before they interject, “S’okay, Uber’s can be a pain in the arse.”

“Er, yeah. The Uber��” YN mumbles lowly, there was an empty seat across from Harry that had been saved for her.

She could feel Harry’s eyes following her, studying her as she kept her head down and looked on the verge of tears.

“You look too much like your goddamn mother.”

“What d’you want to drink?” Harry asks softly, tapping her foot under the table.

“God Harry, she’s not a child,” Anna rolls her eyes as she glances over her menu.

Harry glares over at her with a strict warning glance that she needs to change her attitude or there is gonna be an issue.

“Just water,” YN replies, swallowing hard.

He knows somethings wrong when she doesn’t bite back at her, instead looking down at the menu like it’s the most interesting thing ever.

Harry had already known by the phone call.

There were quite a few people at the dinner, constantly engaging him in conversation as YN kept to herself.

It’s after the appetizer’s arrive that he can’t stand her fake smiles and attempts to seem like she’s enjoying herself.

“Outside, now,” Harry says firmly, not a question but a statement.

“Harry, don’t,” Anna huffs, not liking the private attention her enemy is about to get.

“I don’t remember askin’ you,” He hisses under his breath before following YN’s retreating figure to the main entrance.

They end up in the small alleyway, “Tell me what’s going on.”

YN’s eyes are moody, putting back on a nonchalant expression that would work for anyone but him, “I’m fine, I don’t know why you’re making a big deal. Let’s go enjoy your dinner.”

Harry backs her up against the brick wall, hand over her shoulder, “We’re not goin’ anywhere until you tel me. M’not stupid.”

It triggers something because she starts sniffling, whispers, “You’re going to be mad at me.”

His hard facial features relax, pressing his forehead to hers, “Please pup, y’know I love you no matter what.”

“My therapist moved our session to today. I went and uh…” YN begins to full on cry, burying her face in her hands.

“C’mon, tell me,” He encourages softly.

“It triggered a repressed memory. I…I didn’t want to ruin tonight for you. I fuck up everything for you already,” She chokes out, letting him pry her hands away.

“Puppy,” He murmurs with a laugh of disbelief, “I fuckin’ wake up everyday because of you. You make my life worth livin’. I’m not happy unless y’are.”

“I just…didn’t want tonight to go like this,” YN sighs quietly, “One night without my trauma.”

“Hey, hey. We’re workin’ through it together, yeah? It takes time. Y’made the effort to come and that means more to me than anything else,” He says truthfully, tilting her chin up.

Harry melts a bit when she leans up to give him a lightening fast peck, “I am so proud of all your accomplishments.”

“Wouldn’t have done any of it without you, sweet girl,” He rubs a thumb under her eye to wipe off a streak of makeup.

They stand outside for a minute longer in a tight hug.

When they walk back into the restaurant, Harry quietly asks Gemma to switch YN seats which she graciously agrees without a fuss.

Anna is shooting daggers at YN while the change happens and Harry pushes in her seat for her.

The whole dinner consists of Anna fuming and hanging on every single movement between the two despite her hand on Harry’s thigh.

When he scoops up a bit of his mashed potatoes and feeds them to YN, laughs when she makes a face at the amount of chives mixed in.

It’s like he doesn’t even noticed the casual arm he occasionally throws around the back of YN’s seat as they chat.

“Harry,” YN scolds with a small smile when he steals a shrimp from her plate when she’s not looking.

Anna had shrimp too and he didn’t look once to do that to her.

“S’good, here, have a bite of m’steak. Know Y’don’t like it rare but s’good. I promise,” He encourages, cutting her a thick piece.

How the fuck did Harry know how YN liked her steak?

He didn’t even remember Anna’s favorite color.

“Y’gettin’ sleepy?” Harry whispers to YN towards the end of the meal, his lips are nearly brushing her ear and Anna pinches his thigh hard.

“Fuck,” Harry replies, flinching away from the pain as he turns to his girlfriend, “Wha’ did you do that for?”

“Can you pay at least a little bit of attention to me? I’m your girlfriend despite how much YN wants to pretend she is,” Anna says haughtily, loud enough for her to hear.

Harry is about to snap on her but instead YN speaks up first, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know jealously was on the menu. Eat up, Anna.”

Anna begins to sneer but Harry says, “Why don’t you go take a second in the bathroom? Then we can talk, okay?”

With a little stubbornness, she does - stomping away from the table without looking back at YN who had rolled her eyes.

“Y’on my menu tonight? A bath and cuddle sounds nice,” He offers to his love, thumbing her upper thigh.

“So nice,” YN agrees, “Can we use that sugar cookie bath bomb?”

“Of course, anythin’ you want, m’pup,” Harry hums sweetly, kissing the top of her head.

Anna is walking back when she sees it.

He’s cheating on me.

It flashes through her mind but she pushes it away because she reminds herself that YN is a pathetic little clingy girl who Harry wouldn’t ever like that way.

—

Later that night, Harry holds YN as she recount her memory.

Praises her for being so strong.

Kisses her because he loves her so much it hurts most days.

Assures her that he’ll love her even if she’s never ‘fixed’.

Promises that he’ll never let anyone hurt her again.

—

I’d love feedback 🥺

taglist babies (thank you): @dioc4ne @hazgoldenstyles @harrysdimple05 @wonwooen @ficnarry @leeroysdancer @harrysloveheart @harryscherrysugar @pradastardust @rish-haz @wildcstdrexms @evanstylestan @wisetoadbonkbiscuit @meredithhuntt @tpwkvictoria @lovely-him @haymix @eiffelmezarry @pilgrim-harry @soullessbabee @afterglowstyles @tulsasjesus @elenagilbert01 @meh–mood @pretty-pop-princess-hs @msolbesg @localfalsegodstan @evanjh @i-just-like-fanfics @harrys-hs-gf @lightsupdoyouknowwhoyouare @afterglcwswift @harrystyles-tpwk @amyvandijk @godilovetheenglishx @harrys-cherrry @theprofessionalfanby @your–sweetest–downfall @la-cey @bdbtchdir @killerqueencapstan @elizabeth23567 @camflowervol6 @its-a-finee-line @rish-haz @solonelytobe @nav1234 @harrynamjoon @hopefullimaginer123 @westallenhes @awesomebooklover17 @will-be-a-fineline @vasilikir5 @your–sweetest–downfall @pretty-pop-princess-hs @harrynamjoon @harrypinks @ivyirenehoax @harryspink @sunsetcurve-h @goldenstylesh @mouthfulloftoothpastehs @hello-34583 @prettylovley @nicolecarsley @lamariettes @imavirginhoe @unknown7549 @mellamolayla @kiwitsayedsugar

#harry styles cheating #cheating!harry blurb #cheating!harry masterlist #cheating!harry

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kimnjss · 3 years

Text

just hanging out | jjk

⤑ series: cherry pickers

⤑ pairing: gamer(fuckboi)!jungkook x video vixen(virgin)!reader

⤑ genre: fluff!... some angst at the end if you squint.

⤑ rating: pg13

⤑ word count: 3.9K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: lmao second hand embarrassment probably.

⤑ A/N: hey :( love you all who have been enjoying this story nd sending your thoughts in - they really make my day. so thank youu! let me know what you think x

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 16:49

Casual. You're constantly reminding yourself the entire time you're getting ready. This was supposed to be casual. This was not a date. So there was no reason for you to go through the process of getting ready for a date. You didn't shave, just took a regular shower with the regular soaps.

Spent very little time in the mirror when getting dressed, there was no need for frilly shirts or form-fitting pants. Instead, you settled for a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie that Taehyung had lost a little while back. Minimum makeup, hair up, and out of your face.

Needed to cement it in your mind that this was not a date. Steal away any reason for you to act like it was one. No matter how much you knew you'd enjoy the whole shebang, candlelit dinner, romantic walk admiring the night sky, kiss on the doorstep – you had to ignore that.

Bottle it up and stuff it down because there were many things you didn't know about Jungkook and the bits you did know weren't great. His shitty friends being at the top of the list. So, until you were sure he wasn't like the lot of them... not dates were what you'd settle for. Because at the end of the day, you wanted to see him.

It's a thirty-minute drive from your house to Jungkook's and you spend the entire car ride agonizing on how this 'not date' was going to turn out. And then immediately scolding yourself for freaking out over something that shouldn't matter as much as you were making it out to be.

For all you knew, he probably was just waking up... barely remembering that he had plans with you. Most likely hopping in the shower just minutes before you were said to arrive. Mmh, Jungkook in the shower. Droplets of water rolling over his tone skin, following the dips and ridges until...

It's hard to shake the image of Jungkook showering out of your head once you've got it there. Even with his insistent need to wear baggy clothes, it didn't take a detective to see that the kid was ripped. No doubt spent hours in the gym working on his arms, his abs, his thighs...

Nope. Not going there. No reason to go there when you were on your way to hang out, innocently hang out with a guy that you were just barely friends with. That's all it was. Two people getting to know each other after clicking the first time they talked. God, the way you clicked with Jungkook was unbelievable.

He made you laugh. And it was weird because you don't remember ever feeling this comfortable around someone this quickly. Jungkook was different. At least you hoped he was. Instantly, you're shushing your thoughts. Refusing to mentally put so much pressure on something that more than likely become nothing.

Getting your hopes up too early was the reason why people got hurt in the first place. So this wasn't a date. And you weren't going to expect him to treat it as such. Just hanging out to get to know each other. That was it.

That was it. Your new mantra as you shove your car into park, heading up the walkway to his front door. Knocking while repeating those four words to yourself. Casual. That was it.

You're not even waiting a full minute before the front door is being pulled open, revealing a fresh-looking Jungkook. Dark hair falling in pretty waves, on either side of his pretty face. He seems to be glowing and you feel it throughout your entire body when he smiles.

A baggy pink sweatshirt swallows his figure, paired with equally loose gray sweatpants. His house is spotless when he lets you in, obvious that he spent the duration of the morning cleaning. The smell of Lysol still lingered in the air. Even the white socks on his feet seemed oddly clean.

You can't help but smile at the effort, allowing yourself to believe that all the trouble was for you.

Once he's setting your shoes in his extremely organized coat closet, he's leading you through the house. Smiling big as he gives you a mini-tour of the first floor and you swear you're paying attention. You're trying your best at least, but it's hard to concentrate on anything that wasn't how cute he looked.

“And this is the arcade,” He's showing off both rows of teeth with his broad gesture into the room located at the end of the hall. Obviously proud of this part of the tour.

As he should be. When the kid said arcade, that's exactly what he meant. Old school game machines lined the walls, ones that you'd actually find in an arcade. Some games that you've never heard of before. All with the high score name: 'Koo'. A dramatic two-person car racing game tucked in the corner.

There's a curved 90 inch TV mounted on the wall, in front of it on a stand is every game console ever made. He has his laptop set up in the room, with two monitors and two gaming chairs in front of it. In the middle of the room is the most comfortable L shaped couch.

All you can say is, “Whoa.” And he's laughing at your reaction.

“It's my favorite room in the house. Well... aside from,” His eyes shift up, obviously gesturing to upstairs where his bedroom is.

The insinuation has a blush darkening your cheeks, but you choose to ignore it, stepping further into the room with a tiny gasp. “You have Skee-ball!?” He's right behind you as you rush across to the room to where the game is set up. A manicured nail pressing against the start button, grinning wide up at him as the balls roll down.

Bright red numbers flash on the screen, the high score followed by his name: 310...Koo. A smirk instantly settling onto your features as you reach for one of the bright-colored balls. “I'm gonna beat that,” Lifting a finger to point at the numbers on the screen.

Jungkook is letting a loud laugh leave his lips, a pretty smile settling on his features as the sound dies down. “That took me two weeks... good luck,” Drawing your hand back, you release the ball on the swing. Watching as it travels upward toward the slots, dropping right into the gutter.

It takes four throws before you're getting it right, the ball traveling up the slope and directly into the 40 point slot. You're letting out a loud whoop, arms lifting in slight victory.

Eyes wide, you're turning your head to face him. “You saw that!?” You're shocked that he's already looking at you. With this soft lovey look that you were the one to hang the stars in the sky. And it makes you wish that this was a date because if it were you'd be able to let yourself enjoy the feeling that comes with the way that he's looking at you.

But it's not a date. So you don't. Shove the fuzzy feeling away with a shake of your head, reaching for another ball from the rack and thrusting it forward.

FEBRUARY 22ND, 2020 | 18:08

Jungkook is scary good at games. Like scary good. If he wasn't matching your score, he was doubling it. Didn't even graze his high score in Skee-ball and every game after that was his domain. And he was having fun beating you, the smile growing on his face each time you were crossing your arms with a pout – claiming the game had to be rigged.

Foosball to Car Racing to Dance Dance Revolution (he had way more rhythm than you'd expect). You've settled down quite a bit since you first showed up at his house, finding it easy to relax around him. He was cute when he got competitive, not like you were much of a competition in these games... but it was nice to see him like this.

The scrunch of his nose as he focused on the screen. The cute dimples that popped out whenever he won. And how he mindlessly sat close to you, engulfing you in his sweet scent. There was just something about being with Jungkook that made you feel at ease, could someone who made you that comfortable really be as bad as his trash friends?

His shoulder brushes against yours as he settles further into the comfort of his couch, his thumbs moving over the controller quickly. Implementing combo after to defeat your character. In the fourth round of Mortal Kombat and you've only one once.

“Hey! You said you'd let me win,” He's laughing, not even letting your character get up before the large K.O. letters appear on the screen and his person is giving their little victory remark. A dramatic huff leaves your lips, the controller being tossed to the side to cross your arms over your chest.

All he wants to do is lean in and kiss that pout off your lips. Has wanted to kiss you since he beat you in table tennis. You're so pretty and he can't hold back from moving closer to you, guiding your movements just so he can have an excuse to touch you. And he doesn't miss the way you blush. The cute giggles that you let out when he flirts with you. Making him want to flirt with you more just so he can hear the sound.

“I tried,” He speaks through a laugh, taking in the skeptical look on your face. “I did! You're just so bad,” His eyes watch your fingers move around the controller, switching the screen to the character choice.

Gasping when his words sink in, landing dainty punches onto his shoulder. “You're mean! Rematch. I'm not bad,” Jungkook's pressing start on the game as soon as you both have picked your characters, leaning back against the couch as he instantly starts trying out combos on you.

Your whines and protests are cute. It's all he can focus on when he's supposed to be paying attention to the game. And the shout of triumph you let out when you're managing to knock his character down squeezes at his heart, he can't help but turn to look at the smile on your face.

“Look at you losing!” He's sure his health bar is at the end by now, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. In awe, because how could someone actually look like that? So effortlessly... beautiful?

The tip of your tongue poked out the corner of your lips, brows furrowed as you work hard to take him down. So wrapped in the game, you don't even realize that he had stopped playing. It's his luck too, no telling how embarrassed he'd be if he was caught staring. Yet, he can't bring himself to look away.

Not until you're jumping up excited, clapping for yourself and your win. “Did you see that?” Your body is whipping around, forcing a surprised look on his face. Worried that you might've caught the way he had been looking at you. “I just fucking destroyed you! You can't even say that was beginners luck, either.”

You're lifting your hand for a high five, which he's happily giving to you. His smile matching yours as you flop down on the couch beside him, thighs grazing over each other and he feels it in his chest. “Do you want a chance to redeem yourself?”

Not even a minute is spared for him to answer because you're already starting up a new round. He's got his game face on now, shaking himself out of the daze. “Can you believe I just kicked your butt?” There's this taunting look on your face and all he wants to do is lean over and kiss you.

He takes for teasing you instead. Noticing your ridge posture that he had commented on in your picture. “I don't know how,” A large hand reaches over to touch your back, your body automatically leaning into his touch. “Your form is all off, it had to be luck.” Just a bit of pressure is applying to your back and you're slouching forward.

With a laugh, you're rolling your eyes – reaching a hand back to swat his away. “Watch me beat you like this too. I'll even let you pick my character,” You've been using the same girl since you started playing while he's surfed through the entire catalog. He's taking you up on the offer, picking one of the bulkier characters that don't do all the jump moves you seem to love so much.

And you still beat him.

This time distracted by the frustrated rants from you whenever your guy doesn't do what you tell him to. Time runs out and he ends up having less on his health bar and you're taking that as a proper win, lifting your hand for another high five.

Jungkook congratulates you quietly, more so trying to figure out just what was going on inside his chest. He's had girls over before. In much more intimate settings than this... but never has he felt like his heart was about to burst through his chest. This unbearable feeling to be close to you and it's quickly becoming all he can think about.

You're just so pretty. And you look oddly sexy in your sweats. But it's not just that. There's something else that he can't really place that's pulling him to you. Making it hard for him to stop thinking about stupid things like holding your hand or kissing your cheek. Imagining if days like today were the norm and after he'd grow tired of playing games, you'd let him stretch out his head in your lap – playing with his hair.

And it has to be crazy because this was only the first time the two of you were alone. The late-night texts being all he had to back up knowing you, but at the same time, he felt like he knew you. Like he's known you well. He can't describe it either, but he's almost positive that you feel the same.

“Are you hungry? Should we order a pizza?” You've already whipped your phone out, reluctantly putting a bit of space between the two of you as you scroll through your phone. Jungkook is quick to agree, fingers moving over the buttons on the controller to switch the TV.

No idea why he all of a sudden feels so nervous. “Sure,” He's managing to mumble out, but you're not listening. Already putting together a pizza for both of you. “Do you, uhm... do you wanna watch a movie? Something on Netflix?” Your thumb is stilling on the screen at the mention of Netflix.

Yoongi's playful warning ringing loudly in your mind. 'Playing video games was just Netflix and Chill with more steps,'. But there was the chance that he was actually tired of playing games and wanted to watch a movie with you. It didn't have to be that serious, you had been going at it for hours.

“Yeah, go ahead. Pick something.” His body slouches back on the cushions, scanning through the movies halfheartedly before choosing a random one with a really long title. After tapping his fingers against the screen, the neon orange lights in the room are dimming. A comfortable warmth settling around you.

Jungkook watches as you take your time putting the order together. The beginning credits playing on the screen and he's not even paying attention, too busy with his eyes glued to you. “I got meat lovers, you like that, right?” Setting your phone aside, you allow yourself to sink into the comfort of the cushions.

“Mmh, my favorite.” Not a lie. It really was. And the fact that you had chose it without knowing just added to everything about you that made him want to kiss you. A small smile spreads across your lips as you nod, turning your attention to the screen in front of you.

The two of you sit side by side, watching the characters on the screen, but you're not listening. It's hard to hear over the pounding in your chest. The nervous bounce of his leg as if he was waiting for something. And you have no idea what because the pizza is no where near being on its way.

A pretty girl is in an argument with her male lead, something about debt and you're trying your hardest to follow the storyline. Although, you have no idea what this movie is and why he picked it.

It's the thick yawn from beside you that catches your attention, Jungkook's arms lifting over his head in a stretch. You don't think much of it, other than the fact that he's being a little dramatic with his stretch. Until the arm closest to you is dropping down, not at his side like it had been before but around your shoulders – gently tugging your body into his side.

“Did you just do the yawn move on me?” You can't help but laugh. Even through the darkness, you can see the pink tint on his cheeks. “Shh, this is my favorite part.” You're actually positive that he's never seen this movie before, but don't put up a fight. Instead, you let yourself lean into his chest.

He's warm. And smells like flowers. His eyes don't move from the screen as he's reaching down, soft hands reaching for the outside of your knee. Slowly, he's lifting your legs onto his lap, only glancing in your direction briefly to gauge your reaction. Leaning back when there's no sign of you wanting to move.

“Your feet are so small,” Toes curling at the random attention, you're leaning over to reach for his face attempting to pull his focus. “Don't make fun of them! What the heck?” He's laughing loudly at you, allowing you to move his head. Shifting his focus from your feet to his face.

Your fingers are cold against his warm skin, but he can't keep himself from leaning into your touch. “They're cute.” Big eyes scan over your face, smiling softly when they're landing on yours. “You're cute.”

Almost instantly, the atmosphere in the room seems to shift. And you're not sure how he did it, but the way he was looking at you, the soft whisper in his voice... you can't but melt in his strong arms. Basically sat in his lap and it's nice. Jungkook takes his time with inching forward, entering your space which has your hand falling from his face.

He's quick to replace your hand with his one your cheek, tilting your head up toward his. You're sure he's going to kiss you. It's obvious with the slight pucker of his lips, the droop of his eyes, he's tapping a rhythmic beat against your knee ten times faster than the rush of your heart. He was going to kiss you.

Jungkook was going to kiss you and it felt like you couldn't breathe. Nerves on a ten because this wasn't even supposed to be a date. And now you were in this situation and you weren't the least bit unhappy about it. You wanted him to kiss you and it's a new feeling that you don't fully understand. It freaks you out.

Just inches from your lips and your face is twisting up, head jerking back before he can reach you. “What are you doing?” Instantly hating yourself for the embarrassed look on his features that slowly morphs into a puppy dog pout.

“I was going to kiss you...” Jungkook mumbles out sheepishly, dropping his arm from your body to push his hair back. Making an effort to put some space between the two of you, trying to figure out where he had gone wrong.

Because in his mind he had done everything right. Had been making you laugh all night, set some type of mood, told you that you were cute. And you seemed to be enjoying yourself... so what was he missing?

“Why would you do that? This isn't a date, Jungkook.” The mantra that you thought you had worked into your head seemed to be slipping. Not sure when you had forgotten what this was supposed to be, but now it was all rushing back to you.

The reasons you had rejected going on an actual date with him in the first place. And the realization of how stupid you were to think that this was a proper substitute for it. No matter what you decided to call it, it didn't erase the fact that this... tonight, with him... felt like a date.

And it wasn't supposed to.

“Do you kiss all the people you just hang out with?” It's wrong to put the blame on him and only him, but you can't help it. You're a mess in your head for a plethora of reasons, because it had been obvious. How he was looking at you, his arm around you, your legs in his lap... everything that you decided to ignore.

But in the same breath, he told you this wasn't a date... so why bother with all sweet shit. Turning movies on for one reason. Maybe you were reading too deep into all of this? Maybe you were overreacting. Jungkook didn't act like his friends when he was with you, maybe he was really different.

“Oh, come on, Yn... are you being serious?” He doesn't look all too embarrassed anymore, just a little bit sad from the rejection. It's fine, though. He'll live. “Dead serious, Jungkook. You got me here saying this wasn't a date. You need to stick to that,” You felt strongly on that part.

You had told him you didn't want to go on a date with him and even though this 'not date' was literally the same thing, he shouldn't act as if you had said yes to a date. Right? He should keep his word, that way things wouldn't get messy. Like right now.

Jungkook seems to put it together in his head, nodding his head in agreement – yet, the pout doesn't leave his lips. “Alright, alright. Fine. My bad,” He's tugging at the rolls of fabric on his sweats, avoiding eye contact with you. Dark hair covering his eyes, all you can really see is the pink of his lower lip.

And you feel bad, even though you know you shouldn't. It's not like you would've hated kissing him. It was just too nerve-racking to think of doing right now. You didn't quite understand it yourself, so there was no way you could go and explain it to him.

Instead, you're extending a finger. Poking the tip of your nail into his knee. “Don't pout. Come on, you'll miss the best part.” Referring to the movie that you're both watching for the first time, but it has a smile pushing onto his lips. His head lifting and gaze shifting onto the TV screen.

“Sorry,” He mumbles out after a moment, but you're not sure if he's apologizing for the almost-kiss or something else. Either way, you're flashing a genuine smile in his direction, lifting a hand to playfully shove at his shoulder. “Don't worry about it. It's fine,”

It really was.

— known for your body and surrounded by rumors about your sex life… rumors that he doesn’t think to doubt. until he’s meeting you… forced to realize there’s much more to you then the thonged shorts and lacy costumes.

⤪ masterlist ⤨

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A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!

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foli-vora · 3 years

Text

reflections

masterlist

A/N: I’m back, baby! This is completely self indulgent because I’m feeling shitty about my bod, who better to help than certified soft boi Marcus? This is dedicated to all the goddesses who sometimes struggle with remembering that they have the body of a bad bitch, regardless of what it looks like or what society tells you it should be. I love you.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x f!reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: insecurities, body image issues, SMUT 18+ ONLY - body worship, unprotected p in v, I may have cried writing this no I won’t apologise

It was one of those days.

Your clothes didn’t feel right on your body, clumping in certain spots and hanging wrong everywhere else. The reflection in the bathroom mirror showed someone desperately trying to piece together what was left – a bit of extra serum here, a heavier swipe of makeup there, as if it would all come together in the end and you’d be able to walk around with your head held high.

It didn’t work.

How you landed Marcus Pike, you’ll never know, and it’s that thought that festers, ugly and unyielding, in your mind throughout the entire day and well into dinner.

He watches you from across the table as he eats, head tilting when he quickly catches onto the fact that you’re unusually quiet, reserved, curling in on yourself and pushing the food around your plate instead of enthusiastically diving in like you normally do when he cooks.

“Is everything okay?” His voice is soft, his gentle probing so much more different from previous partners and their passive aggressive ‘What’s wrong with you?’.

Your eyes find him, flickering across his face creased with concern, your stomach twisting uncomfortably as you force a little smile. It doesn’t sit right on your face. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

He knows you’re lying, knows from the sudden shine in your eyes that something’s bothering you, something’s hurting, but he lets it rest for now, sensing your discomfort from miles away and instead choosing to reach a hand across the table to fold softly over yours as he fills the silence with the goings on of his day.

You don’t eat.

He doesn’t comment on it.

He hides when he hears you tidying in the kitchen, thinking he was already getting ready for bed. He watches you swipe away the food on your plate with a quiet sniff, the back of your hand quickly catching a lone tear that streaks down your face, and then he knows.

You pull at your shirt, shift uncomfortably in your tight pants – his favourite – and he knows.

Heart breaking for you, Marcus makes sure to make a noise as he enters, smiling softly when you jump and laugh quietly. You force a smile, turning your back to him to start washing dishes when warm hands cover yours in the soapy water, a body pressing up close behind you.

“Take a shower with me?” He asks into the hot skin of your throat, kissing softly below your ear as he sways with your body gently. A habit of his – always swaying to music that isn’t there. The music of your love, he liked to say. The cheesy idiot.

You want to say no, he can feel it in the way your body tenses.

“I had one earlier.”

He leaves it, nodding against your cheek in understanding before kissing it softly and fading away upstairs. He takes your composure with him, and you can’t help but cry as you finish up the dishes.

You really don’t deserve him. He was far too good for you.

The ugly thought that had long settled in your mind, suddenly sprouts into something bigger. It fills you, the unworthiness, and your chest tightens as you fight off the heavier sobs, struggling to swallow around the lump lodged in your throat from the effort of keeping it all at bay. You’d save them for later, when he’s oblivious and lost in dreams.

You must have taken longer than you thought because he’s already pottering around the room in his pyjamas by the time you make your way upstairs, dark hair dripping small droplets of water onto the collar of his comfy tee. He never dries his hair properly. Usually you’d do it for him – cover his head with a towel and rub it vigorously until he’s unsteady, chest heaving from the laughter muffled by the fabric.

Not tonight.

He watches sadly as you retrieve your pyjamas and head for the bathroom, head downcast.

“Hey,”

You stop instantly, a small smile twisting your lips uncomfortably as you turn to raise a brow at him.

“Come here.”

When you get to him, he quickly steers you to the full-length mirror by the walk-in closet and shushes your quiet refusal, standing close to you as you both appear in the reflection.

“Look.” He says.

You frown at him in the reflection, “What?”

“Look.”

And so you do.

You can’t help the sting of more tears in your raw eyes as they roll over your body, automatically drawn in to the bits you don’t like and picking them to pieces in your mind. He watches intently, heart breaking even more in his chest with every second he watches resentment fill your features.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your head shakes. It’s automatic. Can’t he see out of those gorgeous brown eyes?

His voice remains gentle, “Stop it – look.”

His fingers gently fiddle with the hem of your shirt before he’s pulling it up, careful as he pries it from your body and slides it over your head. Your arms automatically go to cross over your chest, to cover the suddenly exposed skin, but he doesn’t have it.

“No.”

His hands are warm on your shoulders, palms soft as they rub soothingly up and down your arms, and you don’t bother hiding the sadness anymore. Why bother? He already knows.

“What were those affirmations from your new year resolution?”

You snort before you can help it. “They were bullshit –”

He didn’t think so. You were all about them for the first few weeks – writing them in your journal, saying them in the mirror while he watched from behind the shower curtain. You even made him write some down and they’re still stuck to the side of his computer screen in his office.

“What were they? And look at yourself when you say them.”

You heave a sigh, eyes rolling from his to meet your own in the reflection. “I am strong.”

He mhm’s softly into your neck, chin resting softly on your shoulder. “And?”

“I am powerful.”

“Incredibly so. And?”

“I am beautiful.”

“Yeah, you are. Now again.”

“Marcus –”

“Again.”

You do as he asks, heart thundering in your chest as his hands smooth down along your torso and across the skin of your stomach, wrapping you up in his arms as he watches you. He turns you once you finish, hand tenderly smoothing along your cheek before cupping your jaw.

“I know this won’t fix it, I know what you’re feeling goes deeper than this, and I know nothing I do will take your pain away, but will you let me try, honey?”

His thumbs sweep under your eyes, brushing away the tears that had fallen from your lashes, and you smile, heart thundering in your chest as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

You really didn’t deserve Marcus Pike, but God were you lucky.

“I love you.”

He grins, eyes shining, “I love you.”

A part of you says no, no he doesn’t, but then his hands gently cradle your face and bring your lips to his, and you’re lost in the slow movements of his kiss, unaware he was backing you up to the bed until the backs of your knees hit the sides and you’re falling back onto it with a startled giggle.

You try to fight off the wave of hesitation when he goes for the button of your jeans and relax, but he can feel your reluctance, always so attuned to you and what you were feeling. He pauses, fingers stopping their movements as he looks at you.

“It’s okay.” You don’t know why you’re whispering. It’s just so quiet in the bedroom, so still, maybe you were afraid of shattering the silence.

He continues then, slipping the button through the loop and pulling your fly down before he grabbing the denim and dragging it softly down your legs. You lift your hips, shimmy a little to get them past your thighs and smile at his soft expression when he settles on his knees between your legs after throwing your jeans to the floor.

There was something magical about being the sole focus of Marcus Pike’s attention. Your skin hums under his gentle touch, goosebumps following the path of his fingers as they dance softly over your body. You don’t shy away from his open gaze; don’t cross your arms over your chest and try to hide your thighs like your mind is screaming at you to do. You just simply lay among the pillows, letting his eyes crawl over every inch of you.

And there’s no disgust hiding anywhere on his face. No flicker of repulsion. No curl of the nose or judgement in his gaze.

It’s pure admiration, pure awe.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You want to scoff, you know that’s not the truth – the planet is full of drop-dead stunning women – but the longer he stares at you, looking all over your body and straight into your wide eyes, you think maybe he’s not lying… maybe there is a tiny bit of truth to his statement and, well, what’s the harm in believing it? If only just for a little while.

So you smile, heart beating wildly when he grins in return, eyes soft as he reaches back and pulls his tee off in one smooth swipe, and then moves to hover carefully over you. You welcome the soothing heat of his skin as he presses into you, hands greedily grabbing at his back as trails his lips across the skin of your jaw, nipping softly at your throat before he moves to your lips.

It’s easy to lose yourself in his steady stream of affection, your mind all but blanking as he steals the breath from your lungs, his tongue taking the last of any coherent thoughts as it moves along your own. He swallows your whimper and presses further into you, grinding his hips slowly into yours and relishing in your quiet moan.

He softly pulls away, keeping his voice low as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his question, and he smiles before kissing his way down your jaw, following the path to the curve of your shoulder to where the flesh of your breast melts from the cup of your bra.

He pauses, eyes flicking up to yours, “Still okay?”

You lift your chest to answer his question, one of his hands quick to whip around your body and undo the clasp before pulling it away from your completely. He inhales quietly, watching your breasts fall to a more natural position once free of the bra, and heat creeps along your ears the longer he stares, wandering hands moving to cup the soft flesh delicately.

A light sigh leaves you when his thumbs brush over your nipples, circling over the stiff peaks before he rips a surprised gasp from your lips. His fingers tickle the harsh sting of his pinch away before he envelopes a nipple into the wet heat of his mouth, tongue soothing any remaining pain. He moves to the other side, repeating his actions before pulling way to blow softly over the wet skin, chuckling quietly at the way you squirm under him.

He continues his slow journey downwards, but stops when he reaches your stomach. A part of you doesn’t want to look at him – what if he doesn’t like it? But then you’re reminded that he’s seen you naked hundreds of times, in all sorts of places and positions. Why would now be any different?

So you look at him, eyes following to where he rests comfortably between your thighs, gaze already trained on you with an air of soft fondness. He smiles when you look at him, and only when you look at him do you realise what patterns his fingers are tracing over your skin – he’s tracing your stretchmarks.

The sudden wave of apprehension is washed away when his lips trace over the shallow valleys in your skin, kissing along every single one he could see while his fingers continued running up and down your sides softly.

“Marcus,” you giggle, when he moves too close to the ticklish spot above your hip.

“What?” He asks innocently, a loud raspberry quickly cutting through the peace of the bedroom as he nuzzles into your side. You laugh louder, squirming against his hold and batting him away as he continues his attack. He glows when he sees the lazy smile stretching your features, no shadows hanging in the back of your eyes.

“Idiot.” You mutter affectionately, smile widening.

“Your idiot.”

His fingers trace over the waistband of your panties, waiting for your go ahead before they slide under the fabric and move them softly down your legs. He discards them off the side of the bed and hums lowly when your legs part under his gentle coaxing, eyes zeroing in on your folds shining with the arousal that had built from his tender ministrations.

“This okay?” He whispers, eyes watching the way your brow creases when he runs his fingers up and down your slit, his cock jumping in his pyjama bottoms when he feels your arousal coat his fingertips.

“Mhmm.” You relax into the pillows, eyes closing in bliss at the rhythmic circles he was rubbing over your clit. “Marcus?”

“Yeah honey?”

You knew where this was going, and as much as you adored his tongue and the absolute magic he could make with it, you just wanted him close. Your hands greedily grab at him, “Come ‘ere.”

He frowns, pouting as his fingers dip into your heat. “But I –”

“Not tonight. I just want you… please?”

He softens, nodding with a smile as he melts back over you, lips eagerly meeting with yours as you feel the weight of his body carefully press into you. He shimmies out of his pyjama bottoms, quick to settle back in between your legs and you exhale shakily as the head of his cock slides between your folds, a fire kickstarting in your stomach as he lazily drags his hips back and pushes forward until he runs his tip over your clit again and again.

His hand darts in between your bodies, fumbling to line himself up with your entrance as your lips work messily against his, throwing his thoughts into a complete jumble, and it’s not long until he’s sinking into you, bottoming out in your wet heat with a low groan. Your walls flutter deliciously around him and his hips jolt, before he’s rolling forward and starting a steady, unhurried pace.

“I love you,” he whispers as you pant below him, the slow drag of his hips against your clit as he grinds into you steadily building the fire in your core.

You can’t help the tears that build in your eyes, the intense power of his adoring gaze too much for your damaged heart to handle, but he doesn’t let you turn away, he won’t let you hide. His forehead meets yours, hands moving to intertwine tightly with yours as you breathe in the other, the slow pressure of his hips staying steady as your chest tightens from the sparkle in his dark eyes.

You put that sparkle there. You can see it now.

It was love.

Your love, his love –

It all morphed together in a wild frenzy of colours and sounds and everything was just right. Here now, with him, everything was right. There was no pain, no doubt… just pure devotion. Your heart struggles with the pressure of it all, chest threatening to surrender under the weight, but you welcome it eagerly, desperate to feel and breathe all of him as he moves over you.

The tears break free. “Marcus –”

“I know. I’ve got you, honey.”

“I love you,” you murmur, sniffing quietly as you wiggle a hand free to tangle into the damp locks at the back of his head to keep his forehead pressed against yours. His nose runs softly along your own and your heart squeezes at the sweet tenderness of it. “So fucking much –”

His face crumbles, completely unashamed as a wave of tears build in his own eyes, his own insecurities biting at the back of his mind, and he nods, pushing the shadows away and instead, nuzzling into you and your warmth.

“I know – almost as much as I love you.”

You share a watery smile, your thumb brushing softly over his cheek to collect the stray tear that falls free and then he’s moving, your hands winding to grab at his back as he picks up the pace, keeping the pressure of his hips rolling against your clit and you cry out quietly as your stomach tightens with the threat of your oncoming crash of pleasure.

He senses it, moves just that little more desperately against you, and then you’re shattering under him, eyes closing as fire floods your veins and rips through your body. He falls with you, his own end coaxed on by the sudden tightening off your hot walls and the rush of slick that floods him. He shudders above you, face pinching as he fills you, and you moan when you feel his cock twitch inside you.

You pull him to rest in your arms, head tucked comfortably in the curve of your shoulder as he huffs into your throat. You try to steady your own breathing, your heart beating wildly against your chest as the post-climax tingles settle into your limbs, your body melting into the bed as exhaustion rolls through you.

He’s gentle as he pulls out of you, carefully falling next to you, and watching you shift onto your side to face him with a languid smile.

His voice is barely a whisper, his fingers moving to find yours as his racing heart calms. “You really are incredible, honey.”

Heat crawls along your chest and fills your cheeks, “You’re not so bad yourself, Agent Pike.”

“Seriously,” he says quietly, “I wish you could see it.”

You swallow the sudden lump building in your throat, and you smile widely at him, filled with such a sudden wave of confidence you wish it would last. “One day I will.” And you know in your heart that it could be possible, it would be. “One day.”

Permanent tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @mouthymandalorianalso @frannyzooey @wyn-dixie @intu-witch-tion @amneris21 @mad-girl-without-a-box @pinguinstudiert @sergeantbannerbarnes @betterthanbucky @kat-r-in @starlightmornings @randomness501 @antisocialthat70sshow @buttercup--bee @sleep-tight1 @spideysimpossiblegirl @greeneyedblondie44 @the-tres-geckos @bunniwarrior @fangirl-316 @acourtofsnakes

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #the mentalist #the mentalist fic

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giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Text

Vicious

Part VI

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, mention of blackmail, all characters are adults.

Words: 1567.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

________

You spent the rest of your evening like a somnambulist, barely able to concentrate on your projects before you went to bed, barely finishing half of the things you planned for today. Even the change of locks didn't make you as happy as you thought it would. It felt like something between a dream and a nightmare.

Lying in the dark, you stared at the ceiling, thinking of what happened just a couple of hours ago. Why did he do it? Was it just out of habit and didn’t mean anything? Naturally, with his appearance and easy-going attitude, he probably dated many girls and didn’t think much before kissing someone he liked.

Remembering the way he talked to you in the morning, you thought he must have pretended to be shy around you. Thor certainly wasn’t sheepish.

Was it all a sham? Was Loki right about all of them, playing their roles to get close to you? You couldn’t forget the way Thor looked the moment he told you about being smart. It was like something switched inside him, and for a second you saw the real Thor who was far from being your simple, good-natured athlete.

Why did you keep thinking about that stupid kiss even after seeing the man could be dangerous?

Aroused and angry, you tossed and turned until you fell asleep.

____________

Waking up was especially tough, despite the fact you didn't really do much yesterday, meaning you were going to spend your weekend studying. Shoot, and that's when you planned to visit that new chocolate boutique in the city. Maybe you could still make it if you spent more time studying today?

But then again, going to the city alone might be a bad idea. Even if the guys who stole your things were beaten, it didn't mean it had always been the same people following you. The school was full of weirdos, in the end. What if somebody went after you? Steve would definitely say you had to bring one of your guards with you.

Damn. It was better staying in the dorm then.

"Good morning! Are you ready?" Peter's voice broke through the silence, and you flinched, hurriedly applying some lipstick because you didn't have enough time to put your makeup properly.

Well, at least you were fully dressed.

"Just give me a second!" Picking up your bag, you put your shoes on and opened the door, looking at a young guy who's face was lit up like a Christmas tree. "Hi!"

He definitely liked what he saw, and you felt your cheeks growing hot from embarrassment. From the very start of the semester Peter acted very sweet around you, and you thought you could be friends with him. He wouldn't do something as ugly as blackmailing, would he? Thor said it too. Clearly, Steve was exaggerating.

"Did you sleep well? I've heard you changed your lock, so now it'll be better."

"Ugh, I hope so. But I still sleep with my dresser blocking the door." Sighing, started walking, afraid to look in the faces of other students, hurrying off to school.

They must have been disgusted, watching you being friendly with one guy after being all lovey-dovey with the other just yesterday. Although you didn't see anyone in particular, you were sure somebody saw Thor kissing you. And now you were walking the corridors with Peter.

"By the way, what's your Insta?"

What? Your Instagram? Whatever for? Although you had no idea why he needed it, you let him add you, by the time leaving the dorm and walking towards the main building.

Suddenly, Peter got pretty close, his arm on your waist as he lifted up his phone and hummed, "Look here and smile!"

Before you realized what he was doing, the boy kissed your temple, and you heard the sound of a photo being taken by his front-facing camera. What the Hell?!

"Peter!" Pissed at him, you quickly break free and stepped back, but he was already looking at his phone, editing the photo and posting it almost immediately.

You heard your phone buzz when he marked you on the photo.

"That's a good one. You look very cute here."

"What are you doing?!"

"Making a proof we're dating, of course?"

You were taken aback by the sincerity in his voice, and Peter smiled from ear to ear like an excited teenager, showing you the picture: it wasn't that bad, and you looked as if you were slightly embarrassed by Peter's closeness. Oh, of course. He had to convince his friends he was dating you, but he didn't kiss you on the lips that could make other people too suspicious. Instead, friends of Barnes or, say, Thor, would still think it was all for show, and it was their friend who dated you for real.

Shit, Steve's plan was incredibly complicated, and you didn't like it at all.

"Oh, alright." You mumbled, lowering your eyes to the ground, and Peter laughed.

"We'll make a TikTok dance later. If you wanna make people talk, just use your social media." He winked at you and put the phone in the pocket of his pants, resuming walking, and you moved along, your face still hot.

God, what did these guys got you into? You felt like you were lost in the middle of a play, not even having a script to read what was your role in all this.

Before you parted your ways, going to a different classrooms, Peter talked about videogames, the upcoming Resident Evil - apparently, his favorite franchise - and some Dota tournament, but you didn't know much about it, and Peter offered to show you his favorite games "because you can't spend all your time studying!"

He was as careless and sweet as always, but you couldn't get Steve's words out of your mind. Damn, if only you could know for sure that Peter didn't blackmail anyone. Who could you talk to about it? Obviously, not Peter himself, but every time he spoke you had that nagging feeling you needed to talk to him. You barely kept your mouth shut before he went to a different room.

Ugh, why didn't you transfer anywhere else when you still had a chance? Obviously, now you could only drop out of school, and it definitely wasn't something you were going to do.

Luckily, the next couple of hours you were busy with your classes, trying your best to prepare for the upcoming exams. The academy held high standards, and even though you were a good student, it still took lots of efforts to keep up the good work. How Thor even managed to get enrolled, judging by the fact he hated studying and often skipped classes?

Ah yes, he mentioned something about getting a scholarship from the academy for his success in the sport.

By the lunch time you were drained, listening to Peter chatting with an absent-mindedly epxression on your face. Funny enough, Peter's grades were better than yours, even though he spent much less time studying. What, was he some genius like Loki? You felt a little envy.

"I gotta go take my tracksuit, I have PE next," the boy said, and you nodded, throwing away the leftovers of your lunch.

As you stood close while he grabbed his sportclothes, you heard two guys talking behind the lockers to your right.

"Have you seen her today? She's with Parker!"

You tensed immediately. Of course, they were talking about you.

"Yeah, so what?"

"She was with Thor yesterday!"

Watching you froze on the spot, Peter stilled too, listening carefully. Oh shit, you hoped no one cared about who you went with - why should they, in the end - but, apparently, you were drawing too much attention simply because you were a girl among hundreds of male students.

"So what?" The other guy asked impatiently, growing tired of this conversation.

"Are you stupid? She's going out with them! I bet she's looking for a guy." The first student said with excitement, and you cringed. No, you weren't going out with anyone, you wanted to stop the weirdos from following you and steeling your things. Was it too much to ask?

"Yeah, who cares?"

"We have three fucking girls in the whole school, and you don't care if one of them could be going out with you? Besides, this one's pretty. I'd fuck her!"

You felt like you were going to puke any moment. Why on Earth did you decide to transfer to an all-boys school? It was like the whole school were a men’s room filled with stupid-ass guys, and you were locked inside, forced to listen them talk junk.

"You'd fuck a sheep, weirdo. Go get yourself a girlfriend if you can’t stop thinking with your dick.”

Laughing, the guy left, and his friend followed him, shouting something stupid while you breathed out a sigh of relief. Of course, you knew there would be some talk, but you didn’t expect it to be so... gross. Were you really gonna spend the two remaining years here?

Watching you getting frustrated, Peter gently touched you by the arm and said softly, “Don’t worry. They won’t talk rubbish about you.”

“What do you mean?” Suddenly thinking of Steve’s words, you blurted out exactly what you were thinking of the whole day, “Are you going to blackmail them with something?”

“I... what?”

Part VII

__________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic @mariatietacapitu @d3monslust @maybesandohnos @ibeatuptwinks @mangobangi

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #loki x reader #peter parker x reader #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark loki #dark peter parker #dark thor #yandere

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nameless-ken · 3 years

Text

Sebastian Stan Imagine - PT 2

Summary: You fell asleep on a stranger’s shoulder during an airplane ride and you’re horrified because you’ve never met. But he tells you it’s fine and offers to buy you a coffee.

Warnings: none (fluff)

Words: 1.6 K

Part 3 ?? Comment if I should do one.

Masterlist

Requests are open!

Maybe It’s Meant to Be

Part 1

Sebastian isn’t one to just bring someone he’s barely known for a day, over to his apartment. You weren’t expecting him to invite you over. You feel like you couldn’t be more nervous than you already are, but the waves never stop coming.

You both continue to talk and share stories as he leads the way to his place, not too far from the coffee shop. You admire his neighborhood, wishing you could afford to live here. You don’t hate your neighborhood, just don’t feel entirely safe there but it’s better than where you lived before.

You make it to his building and he enters a code. The doors beep and he opens it, allowing you to go in first. The lobby is small with a reception desk and a little seating area. Sebastian waves to the person at the front desk as you follow him to the elevator. He presses the button and it doesn’t take long for the doors to open. You both step inside and he presses the 6th floor button.

You stay quiet, not sure what to say. He leans against the wall across from you, arms crossed against his chest. You trail your eyes over his body before landing on his face. A smirk appears on his face, catching you checking him out. You blush with embarrassment and look down at your feet.

He takes his time, moving his eyes over your body and licks his lips. He can’t help but admire how cute you look from being caught but he also finds you incredibly sexy at the same time. The way you carry yourself just makes him want to know everything about you.

The elevator doors open and he steps out as you follow him. You stop at his door and he unlocks it. You step in after him and he closes it behind you. You look around, not sure what to do. You see your suitcases against one of the walls.

“I texted Toby when we left to just drop off our stuff here.” Sebastian speaks up when he notices you looking at the bags. You nod in response and turn to look at him.

“Would you like a drink?” He walks over to his kitchen.

“Sure.” You tell him as you place your purse down and slip off your shoes. You walk into his kitchen as he pulls out two wine glasses.

“Red or white?” He asks. “I mean if you drink alcohol. Probably should have asked you that first.” He chuckles.

“Red is fine. Thank you.” You giggle and lean against one of the counters. He pops open a bottle and pours it into the glasses. He hands one to you and grabs his, lifting it up and you clink them together with a laugh.

“We can sit in the living room.” He says and you both walk out of the kitchen to the open space.

“You have a really nice place.” You sit down beside him.

“Thanks. It’s nothing special but I truly love it here.” He places his arm behind you on the couch.

“It’s cosy. I feel like most celebrities go all out on the most expensive looking places but I really like this.” You move your legs up and tuck them underneath you.

“Yeah, It’s just me so I don’t see why I need to go all out on a place that I don’t really stay in much. I’m usually off filming in other places so I wanted a place that felt homey.” He explains.

“Is it a studio? Or do you have a bedroom?” You ask, regretting it immediately. Did you really just ask about his bedroom. You scold yourself in your head.

“A studio. The bedroom is just up those stairs.” Sebastian points. You look over there and nod, sipping your wine as the humiliation sinks in.

“It’s nice.” You say quietly, a lump forming in your throat. Sebastian watches you shift against the couch and cross your arms over yourself, gulping down the rest of your wine. He finishes his glass and takes yours as he stands up.

“Another?” He asks. You nod and he goes back to the kitchen and fills them up. He hands it back to you and sits back down, just a little closer this time.

“I don’t usually ever finish my first glass of wine so you may have to take care of me after this one.” You tease.

“Only if you want me to.” His voice sends shivers all over your body. He moves his arm back around you against the couch.

“Can I just say, this has been one of the best days I’ve had in a while.” Sebastian admits.

“Me too.” You agree with a smile, moving your head to look at him. He is already looking at you.

“I hope I’m not being too forward but I would really like to see you again. To continue to see you, I mean.”

You take a deep breath and can’t help the smile on your face grow wider. You can’t believe everything that has happened today. This feels like one of those life changing days. A day that has completely changed the course your life was going.

“I’d like that too.” You move closer to him and lean your head against his shoulder. He takes this as an okay to move his arm around your shoulders. It’s like you both melt into each other. You both don’t move except for when you drink from your glasses. You sit there on his couch, just enjoying each other’s company.

The loud ring from his phone breaks the silence and makes you both jump.

“Shit.” you mumble as you spill some of your wine on your shirt. You both stand up from the couch. He picks up his phone from the kitchen counter and answers it. You move over to your suitcases and lays it on the ground to find a new shirt.

“Yeah I made it. Sorry, I got busy after the flight. Okay. I’ll put it on my to-do list. Thanks. Alright. Bye.” You hear Sebastian place his phone back on the counter and makes his way to you. You pick up a shirt and close your suitcase again.

“Alcohol and a clumsy person, don’t mix.” You laugh and stand up. He laughs with you and points to a door near you.

“Bathroom is there.” You thank him quietly and walk in there to change.

You look at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks are a little flushed and lips more red from the wine. You just realized you weren’t even wearing makeup today. You had put in the least amount of effort for your flight home and of course you met the most gorgeous human you’ve ever seen. Seriously, how could he find you, of all the women in the world, attractive. You roll your eyes at your inner thoughts and change your shirt. You place the wine-stained on the counter, not bothering to try and get it out. You step out of the bathroom and find Sebastian standing near his balcony window. He smiles at you as you walk toward him. You look out at his view. This city really is the best city in the world.

“I should probably head home. Get unpacked and everything.” You speak up with a sigh.

“Oh yeah, I can call Toby.” He moves to get his phone again.

“No, no it’s okay. I can call a taxi.” You grab his wrist to stop him. You hold onto his wrist for a few seconds before dropping it.

You start to walk over to your purse but feel his hand grab your hand this time and pull you back to him. You stumble slightly and fall against his chest. His breathing has increased slightly and yours does the same. There’s an unspoken agreement being shared between your eyes.

Sebastian can’t wait a second longer and grabs your face, kissing your sweet lips. You don’t hesitate and kiss him back, moving your hands against his chest and grip his shirt. He licks at your lips and you open, his tongue diving deeper into your mouth. His hands fall behind your head to hold you closer as he deepens the kiss. You moan against his mouth, pressing your body closer to his. He pulls back, both of you breathing heavily. He rests his forehead against yours, still holding your head.

“Stay.” He looks into your eyes, lips parted, trying to catch his breath. You smile and move your hand to the back of his neck to pull him down. You press a kiss to the sides of his mouth, then his top lip and finally to his bottom lip before pulling back.

“Only if you want me to.” You giggle, repeating his words for a little bit ago. He rolls his eyes playfully, silencing your giggles with his lips. This, right here, is the best place in the world. You want to relive this moment for the rest of your life.

“This is all that I want.” He holds your face in his hands, eyes full of wonder and admiration only fueling the spark deep within your chest. You are speechless and can only feel him. You can’t believe how you’ve gone your whole life not knowing what his touch feels like. His hands move to your waist and trail down to your thighs, gripping them to lift you up. You instantly wrap your legs around him and hold the back of his head. You eyes never each other’s as he carries you up the stairs to his bed.

You’ve just discovered your next dream.

Him.

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan blurb #Sebastian stan masterlist #sebastian stan imagine #Sebastian stan x y/n #Bucky Barnes #sebastian stan fanfiction

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

Text

Into The Unknown, Part 11

First

Marinette was going to kill Tim.

His alarm had been going off for about three minutes now and she was going to kill him.

She sighed and finished the wing of her eyeliner and poked her head out of the bathroom to Definitely Not Curse In Front Of A Baby.

His phone was facedown and threatening to buzz itself off of the kitchen table.

She rolled her eyes and walked over to silence it, then looked around for the person who, for some reason, didn’t do that.

Tim… looked like he might already be dead?

He was still in bed, but he had also pulled all the blankets off of the corners in order to cocoon himself properly. She hesitantly glanced back at Damian, who was currently pretending to put makeup on the plush cat’s (named ‘Cat’, of course, she was beginning to sense a theme here) face. Alright, he was distracted for at least a little while.

She made her way over to Tim and, after tossing his phone onto the bedside table because she wasn’t actually sure whether she had pressed snooze or cancel, sat next to him. “Tim? You alright?”

He groaned a little and attempted to roll his cocoon away from her. It wasn’t really working. The blankets were holding him down. He had been betrayed by what he loved.

Marinette sighed and reached a hand out to feel his forehead.

Not too warm but definitely a little feverish.

She shook her head slightly and walked over to the medicine cabinet. Damian watched her with interest, green eyes wide. She flashed the kid a smile to say everything was okay -- even if it might not be from the looks of things -- and then pulled a pill bottle from the shelf. Tim had brought his meds over from the other world and she had assumed that he had made sure to give himself a prescription in this world while he was making their identities but...

Yep. He needed a refill.

“Dumbass,” she murmured, shaking her head as she put it back.

She pulled out her phone and checked to make sure that she could bring Damian to work even as an intern… yep! At least that was good.

She sighed and looked over at Tim, who had barely moved outside of pulling his phone into the cocoon. It wasn’t on, no light was emanating from it, apparently he just wanted to have it with him. Maybe it was like a stuffed animal for him, she joked mentally.

...

She sighed. Man, it was hard to tease him when he looked like that.

(… because it was too easy, obviously. What other reasons were there?)

Fine. She’d save it all up for later. For now she could be… nice-ish.

“Got a favorite tea?”

He mumbled more incoherently than Damian for a few moments before managing to choke out: “Coffee.”

She resisted the urge to flick him on the forehead and instead just got up to make him some lemon and ginger tea. Because even the most basic of bitches can’t hate lemon and ginger tea.

When she started back over Damian saw her walk past and made a quiet sound in the back of his throat to get her attention. He reached his hands out for her. She sighed and clumsily pulled him out of the high chair with one arm and positioned him on her hip.

Marinette set the tea on the bedside table. Tim glared at her for a moment and then looked pointedly at the drink.

“When you get better I’ll brew you coffee myself, but you need to at least try and be healthy until you heal up,” she promised with only minimal eye rolling.

“Not what I’m mad about,” he said, still looking at the drink as if he could will it to… be right or something.

“... do you want sugar or cream or...?” She asked once it became clear he was trying to make her guess.

“Coaster,” he said.

She groaned and quickly found one. She threw it down far harsher than was strictly necessary. Tim was worse than her mom about coasters. Let her ruin the furniture, damn it!

By the time she had gotten back Damian had started trying to crawl into the cocoon and, while the idea of the baby trying to heal Tim via cuddles was very cute, Marinette had to pull him away. Babies don’t have immune systems yet, she was pretty sure. Putting him around a sick Tim was basically asking to end up with two sick idiots to take care of.

Damian squirmed in her hands, trying to free himself so he could get back to Tim. “Bu… Nano!”

Tim smiled weakly and reached a hand out to rest on top of Damian’s head. “It’s fine, kiddo. Just gonna… sleep a little.”

“And you’re going to be coming with me to work! Doesn’t that sound fun?” She asked in her sweetest voice.

Damian scowled. “Nano.”

“‘Nano’ needs sleep,” she tried again.

Damian shook his head. Marinette glanced at the time and cringed. Alright. Looks like there’s no time to do this in a gentle way.

She glanced at Kaalki. “Lock the door behind me?”

Kaalki looked up. She had… put a portal on the ceiling on the floor and was, apparently, trying to see how fast she could get the empty water bottle to fall before it started to melt.

The kwami shrugged. Marinette was going to take it as a yes.

She allowed Damian to get one last hug from Tim while she slipped on her shoes and gathered everything she’d need for the day... and then she grabbed him and sprinted out the door before the kid could get too angry.

… and so, screaming baby in her arms, she ran to catch the train.

The crying didn’t stop for a long time. Or maybe it was only five minutes. It still felt like forever. It was the first time Damian was really away from Tim (when she was taking care of Damian Tim was still in the house and able to get there at any point, so those times didn’t really count) in almost three months. Of course the kid was freaking out.

… he was definitely going to freak out even more when he realized that Marinette was leaving, too.

Was it too late to call in sick for work?

Probably.

Well, it was going to have to happen eventually.

She groaned a little to herself and hugged Damian closer in her lap, chin resting on top of his head. The subway was interesting to him, it seemed. That was fair. Public transportation is weird. There was a guy doing stripper moves on one of the poles and Marinette was hardly even phased. At least Damian was enjoying it, clapping excitedly and yelling “raqs!” at the ‘performer’.

But, all too soon, she reached her stop. She waved to the man with Damian and then carried him out to her job.

There was a lot of paperwork involved with signing a kid up for daycare. She didn't know why this surprised her, but it did. It was a pain, too. Remembering all the fake birth dates and names and affiliations that they had come up with. She had been tempted to pull up her cheat sheet on her phone but she was scared that would make her look like an incompetent parent -- or worse, like she was faking the entire thing and wasn’t even biologically or legally related to the kid.

It was an irrational fear, she knew, but damn was it prevalent.

So, she just glared at the papers. She could see Damian doing the same from where he had sat himself down on the table, occasionally glancing over to make sure that this was still what they were doing. It was kind of cute. It was very hard to remain angry through that.

She nuzzled her nose against his cheek, smiling at the little giggles he gave.

She went back to the paperwork in considerably lighter spirits. Once she had finally filled out all the vaccination records (and made a mental note to actually try and figure out how many vaccines the kid had, if any) she sighed and turned to the kid.

“Alrighty, I gotta go to work, Dami.”

Damian didn’t understand much English yet, a byproduct of suddenly being introduced to the language after a year of only being spoken to in Arabic, but he certainly understood what those words meant: she was about to leave him.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t cry a little when she left every day, the little sniffles and pleading looks weren’t at all new to her. But, now that Tim wasn’t there, he was full-on wailing. He crawled to the edge of the table, towards her, and she had to lunge to catch him before he fell…

But apparently this was the plan, because he instantly fisted his little hands in her shirt and curled up in her arms.

… damn. How was she supposed to just leave when he was like this…?

She held him tighter, nuzzling her face in his hair. “It’s just a little while, Dami. I’ll be back. I’ll come back. Sa’aeud. I’ll be back.”

Damian buried himself closer in her shirt and she sighed, looking up at the poor daycare worker.

“I’m sorry…”

“First time you’re leaving him with someone else?” The woman said with a kind smile. Her name was Ava, according to her name tag.

Marinette nodded helplessly. Damian had wrapped his little legs around her. His grip was surprisingly strong. It would definitely take a lot of effort to pry the kid off. If she walked over to her boss he could see the situation and he might give her the day off, he was just a few floors away, she should at least try --.

Ava knelt down next to her and reached a hand for Damian.

Slowly, reluctantly, Marinette opened her arms so the woman could detach Damian from her.

“All kids are like this the first few times. Think of it as a compliment: he thinks you’re safe.”

Marinette nodded slightly and helped pull one of Damian’s hands from her shirt. Damian stopped crying to look up at her, eyes wide and glassy with tears, and then he started crying harder, she hadn’t even thought that that was possible --.

Ava managed to pull Damian off of Marinette and, while the kid was still, he was still hiccuping he was crying so hard.

Marinette gave him a sad smile. “It’ll be okay, Dami. ‘ant bi’aman. Sa’aeud.”

He didn’t look like he believed her assurances.

“Mar-ree?” He tried, one last time, reaching one little hand out for her.

She gently took the hand, pressing a kiss into his palm. “I gotta go to work, Dami.”

Damian’s hand dropped.

Ava gave her a tiny smile and knocked shoulders with her. “Cheer up. You did everything right by saying you’ll come back to him. Say that every time and, eventually, he’ll start to believe you.”

She nodded. She wasn’t happy about it, though. She just watched Damian cry as he was taken into the daycare room until Ava had the sense to close the door.

… when she came back at the end of the day, Damian was enjoying himself.

He was playing a game with Ava. Ava would try and build something with blocks and he would wait until he had determined that she was almost done before knocking it over. What an asshole. She loved him.

She smiled faintly and waved at him when he noticed her. He instantly lit up, pushing himself up onto shaky feet and toddling (wait, is that why they’re called toddlers?!) over to her. He was getting better at walking. He managed to get three-fourths of the way across the room before he fell to his knees and crawled the rest of the way. She smiled and picked him up, nuzzling her nose against his cheek.

“Hey, Dami.”

“Mar-ree! Hi!”

Aw, he learned what ‘hi’ means! She thought but she wasn’t going to say that aloud.

“Make any friends?” She said instead.

Damian stared at her with wide eyes. She smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Ava gave her a tiny smile as she walked over. “Sorry, but I do have to ask for ID.”

“... you saw me drop him off… literally this morning?”

“Yeah, I know. Just protocol,” she said, giving an apologetic smile.

Marinette shrugged a little and nodded, carefully shifting Damian to one arm so she could do that. She also had to fill out a little paper that asked for a review of their services and any suggestions. Marinette wrote the words ‘pay the people more’, because taking care of one kid was stressful enough, she couldn’t imagine taking care of multiple at the same time, no amount of money would be enough to convince her to do that.

After she had signed every form that needed signing, she was free to leave.

And so, a good two hours after she usually left work, she started on the commute home with her kid.

Damian enjoyed the ride home even more than the ride there. The person that had been sitting next to Marinette had brought a sketchbook along and, when Damian had watched with that wide-eyed baby stare, had given him a piece of paper and pencil so he could do some work of his own.

Damian presented Marinette with a bunch of scribbles halfway through the ride, beaming widely.

“Tell me about your work,” she said jokingly.

Damian seemed to get it, because he took the paper from her and started babbling along and pointing to different areas as he explained what his thought process was.

(And, if Marinette missed her stop so he could talk longer, well, no one had to know.)

~~~~~

@unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo

#everyone when they see itu updated: *sighs and tabs over to word hippo*#into the unknown #maribat #timinette #timari #timmari #shutterbug #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #red robin #tim drake

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cononeillbreastingboobily · 3 years

Note

Do you have any predictions about Adam's story in season 4?

I wouldn't call them predictions per se, but wishes more like?

And so:

• Mr. Groff finally reaching out to Adam. I'm fully expecting a very cathartic scene in which both of them honestly say how they feel. Given that in s3 both of them have gained some psychological tools and have gone through massive inner transformations, I think they would definitely be able to meet somewhere in the middle - which won't be able to happen unless Michael actually apologizes to Adam for all of the years filled with neglect and abuse. But, if they do air out what hurts both of them the most, I'm honestly very hopeful: both of them are characters with hearts full of warmth, and if both of them make an effort, I think they will be able to carry on, healing their relationship with each other, treating each other more like equals.

• on that note, I'm really hoping for a scene in which Adam comes out to his parents, whether to both of them at once or separately. I just really need him to say the words "I'm bisexual" because let me tell you, we were robbed of that in s3.

• I want to see Adam being surrounded by friends: we know he's besties with Ola, and I would LOVE to see more scenes with the two of them. Also, the unlikely friendship with Ruby? Give me those two jilted faves watching KUWTK with their dogs napping between them. Perhaps the three of them together, even? That would be an interesting dynamic to see, I think. Especially given that the three of them are now exes of two twats that are best friends. Oh, imagine the gossip!

• this goes without saying, but I really want to see Adam get closer with Rahim. They were definitely setting something up in the latter half of s3, and this is a dynamic that I never anticipated I would absolutely adore. They would make a lot sense to me romantically - neither of them clicked with Eric the way they do with each other already, when it's still platonic. I think they would be one of the best relationships on the show if they did become canon and stayed together. Seeing how much they both value honesty and communication in their relationships, and how despite their best efforts the last relationship they were both in ended in disaster, I think they would be a very healthy couple, who would strike the balance of putting their own wellbeing first, while making sure that their partner feels adored completely and listened to at all times.

• on the topic of Rahim, I think that a big part of Adam's healing post-s3 would be connected to his expression of queerness. In his relationship with Eric, Adam was made to feel inadequate for many things, and that included the fact that Adam didn't express his own queerness the same way Eric does. Must I bring up the thing with going to the nightclub?

And so, think about it. Eric and Rahim are both gay, but the way they present is nothing alike. Eric opts for vibrant colours, makeup, nail polish, and Rahim doesn't. And that doesn't make him any less gay! I think that a big part of Adam's journey going forward would be learning that there is no "correct" way to be queer, to present yourself as such. So perhaps he would strike closer friendships with the queer characters he knows from school - Lily, Cal, perhaps even Anwar? All of them present themselves differently, have different queer identities, and are 100% valid in them. I think Adam would benefit A LOT from learning how many ways there are to be queer, and finding his own way to present himself, one that feels most authentic and comfortable to him.

• I'm hoping Adam would continue working hard when it comes to his schoolwork. It's clear to many people by now that the boy has a learning disability, so perhaps getting professionally diagnosed would be in the cards for him? I think it would be very important - it could result in him feeling not good enough again, but hopefully the wonderful people around him would make sure that he knows that he isn't a failure, that he's loved no matter what, that everyone has his back no matter what, and that a diagnosis like that isn't the end of the world.

• given his success during the dog training contest, I think he wouldn't drop the topic. I think he would try to enter more contests like that, having more and more support from the audience as more of his friends and loved ones would join in on cheering for him and Madam.

• and given that it's his last year of school, I do wonder what he's going to do once he graduates. I think that a wonderful career for him would be connected to dog training: perhaps he could teach classes on doggie training to dog owners who would come over with their own pups? I think he would be fantastic at something like that.

I think that's it? I think I've covered all of the bases I wanted to. But whew, that was A LOT of words. Didn't even realise I had so many in me, at least on this topic. Although, Adam is my favouritest, most specialest boy, I love him sooo dearly, so I do want to see him be happy and loved.

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awormonastring · 3 years

Text

Office Hours- Professor Aizawa x Student

Summary: Life as a college student left you bored. Your history professor, Aizawa Shouta gives you just what you need, but you get a little too close.

Word count: 6077

CW: Professor x Student Relationship

ao3

College life was basic. Wake up, go to school, come home, do homework, sleep. It was a basic cycle, but you made the most out of it by getting good grades. Except recently, something was up. It was your third year of college and you still didn’t have a major. With all your friends being in the process of getting ready to graduate, you were still left confused. This made you feel alone and unfulfilled. Ultimately, you just felt unmotivated with school. What’s the point of trying if you’re just going nowhere? So you started to miss more of your classes, assignments, which led to your grades plummeting. Your history class was a class you genuinely enjoyed but you just never felt like going. To avoid getting kicked out from school (which would upset your parents), you decided to just show up to your classes.

You forced yourself to wake up early, with your class starting at 10am, and decided to do your makeup and actually make an effort to get ready (just as a little motivation boost). You headed to your 10am science class and actually made it on time, which made you feel proud. After about 2 hours your class ended and you had about an hour long break until your last class of the day which was your history class. You decided to get some coffee to wake you up a bit since you felt extremely tired. A part of you still felt unmotivated, but you convinced yourself to push through.

It was 2pm and you were now in your last class of the day. You kept on giving yourself little motivators to make yourself pay attention and try:

“C’mon Y/N. It’s the last class of the day. After this you can go home and reward yourself with a nap. It’ll go by quickly. You like this subject plus this professor is good looking. At least let that motivate you” the little voice in your head said.

Sitting next to the door, you were the first one who knew when your professor was here. You could hear his footsteps and smell his cologne that left an invisible trail leading to the door. He walked into the room holding a coffee cup and black messenger bag. His long black hair was tied back into a low bun. He wore a light blue dress shirt, dark grey pants, and dark brown shoes. Damn, he actually was really good looking. It was something you never noticed since you were always just focused on your work and left class as soon as it ended. You didn’t even know his name. It started with an “A” but you weren’t really sure what it was. To your luck, one of your classmates raised his hand to ask a question. Professor Aizawa was his name. The name easily flowed off your tongue as you mouthed it. Getting your attention, pieces of paper being passed your way.

Oh shit.

It turns out that today your first paper of the semester was due, and you had no idea. As Professor Aizawa came by to collect the papers, he could sense your gloomy energy.

“Y/N,” he spoke which caused your head to look up at him, “Can you stay after class? I have to talk to you about something?”

“Yeah.” You responded. Great. Was he going to drop you from the class for missing too many days? Probably. The duration of the class consisted of you bouncing your leg, clicking your pen, wallowing in anxiousness. You know you were probably bothering the rest of your classmates, but you weren’t a person of confrontation. Class finally ended. You waited for the rest of your classmates to leave before approaching Professor Aizawa’s desk.

Waiting with sweaty palms, Professor Aizawa looked up at you while he was in the middle of writing. He placed the tip of his pen to his mouth, thinking about what to say.

“Y/N. I’ve recently noticed that you haven’t been showing up to class.” You could sense the disappointment in his face, which was weird. Why was he so disappointed about you not showing up to class? He’s never even spoken to you, let alone even acknowledged you until now. After taking a long inhale, you respond.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I just… I’m just going through one of those times. There’s just a lot going on with me.”

“I understand. But you always have to make the most out of your education, you aren’t paying all this tuition for nothing,” He gently laughed, “Anyways, I wanted to let you know about your recent missing assignments but my next class is about to start. How about I give you my card and you come to my office hours. This is gonna be my last class so if you’re free in about an hour you can come and we can figure out what to do about these assignments.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out his card.

The card reads: Shouta Aizawa. Department of Social Sciences. Head of the History Department.

His phone number and email are also being shown. You looked up at him.

“Okay. Sounds good! I can wait an hour. Thank you.”

You left the classroom feeling a bit of a relief. You honestly expected him to just drop you from the class. But the way he was so nice with you made you feel relaxed. It made you feel like someone could see the better in you. You headed to the library to take a nap before this meeting.

Walking around the social science building, you had no idea where you were going. The fact that the social science building consisted of 3 levels definitely made things more complicated for you. His office was located in 118O. You weren’t anywhere near that. “142” the nearest room showed. You decided to just give up and figure everything out tomorrow.

From a short distance, you could see Professor Aizawa walking the other direction. You thought about following him but felt like you would seem creepy if you did that. He turned around and noticed you staring at him.

“Hello Y/N. Are you lost?” he remarked. God how weird did you look just standing there? Your face flushed red.

“Hi Professor Aizawa. I’m sorry. I was just trying to find your office but uh, this building is a lot bigger than I expected” You tried laughing to ease awkwardness.

“No worries. Just follow me. My office is a bit hard to find since it’s sort of isolated.” He walked a bit in front of you while telling you about his previous class and how half of the class didn’t show up. After about 5 minutes, the two of you arrived at his office. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door. You were surprised to find that his office was extremely clean. From his appearance, you assumed his office was going to be a little messy. His office consisted of random diplomas, a stack of papers on his desk along with a computer, black couch, basically everything that would be in your typical office. He glanced at you, “Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” He sat at his computer, typing away.

You looked around at his office to find something to help start conversation since the silence in the room made you feel awkward. Except, he didn’t have any photos. No family, friends, nothing. It made you feel kind of bad for him. Imagine how lonely he must be.

Finally saying something, the professor started, “Looking at your current grade- well, you’re at a D+ right now. C’mon Y/N, I expected better of you. You started off my class doing exceptional work on all my assignments. But now, you are so behind.”

“I know. I just haven’t been doing good these past couple of weeks. It’s just a lot going on not even with my life ju-”

“It’s alright. If you want to explain what has been going on, I’m here to listen. I just want you to do better. I don’t like seeing my students struggle, especially if I know what they are capable of. You can talk to me about what you are going through, only if you’re comfortable” His eyes glued to his computer then made eye contact with you for a brief moment. After a few seconds, he ran his fingers, pushing the strands on his face back, going back to viewing the screen.

You felt conflicted. You wanted to tell him about what you were going through. But, you didn’t feel like your struggles were valid. Should you be given another shot at your assignments when you didn’t show up to class for almost a month? Nothing was going on in your life, so what could you even say?

You decided to just say what was on your mind. Being honest was the only chance you had at passing this class, especially since you wanted to transfer soon. You stopped playing with your fingers and fixed your posture.

“Well, recently I’ve just been overthinking. I’ve kind of lost all my motivation for school. I don’t even know why. I’m assuming it’s because I still don’t have a major while all my friends are already transferring, graduating, and planning out their futures. While I’m just stuck. I feel like I’m not going anywhere.” The man sitting across from you, with his full attention. You didn’t even know when he stopped paying attention to his computer. He responds.

“That’s completely understandable”

“What?” That caught you off guard. You were so used to most teachers invalidating their students’ feelings.

“I mean. I can absolutely see how that would affect your mindset for school. How about we figure out a plan to get you right back on track.” His hands clasped together showed that he was genuinely interested in helping you. Staring at his hands, you noticed his hands were really big, his veins immediately grabbing your attention. This caused your face to go red. You could tell he enjoyed working out in his free time.

“Sounds good.” you smiled. You were still confused as to why he was helping you but he was able to get your grade up plus he was attractive so it served as eye candy while he worked.

After countless questions about your interests, the two of you were able to figure out a potential major for you which made you feel a lot more motivated. You felt like you were finally moving forward rather than continuing to be stagnant. Two hours had now passed and you had to go home. As you packed your notebook and pencil bag, the man invited you to another potential meeting.

“Y/N if you ever need help with figuring out how to go about your major just let me know and we could help figure out a plan.” He stated. His eagerness to help you really meant a lot, so why not visit him again?

“Yeah. That actually sounds really good. I’d love to plan out my schedule.” You responded.

“Great! You can just come by whenever. No need to make an appointment… that is if you can find my office on your own.” He teased which caused you to jokingly roll your eyes. “Anyways, I’ll see you Y/N.”

“Thank you for your help Professor Aizawa!” You left his office and made your way home. Not only feeling accomplished but also feeling a weird feeling, almost like butterflies.

The next day, you decided to go by his office to see if he was there. You weren’t planning on having another meeting with Professor Aizawa since you didn’t want to seem weird, but you still wanted to see him since you only had class with him 2 days a week.

You walked into the Social Sciences building and headed to his office, only wanting to casually walk by to get a glance of the professor before heading home. Walking up the stairs, you made your way and pretended to casually stroll by… like you didn’t purposely walk across your campus just to get a glimpse of him. A part of you didn’t even know why you were even doing this. Another part of you just wanted to see what he was wearing, hear his voice, you wanted him to acknowledge you. These thoughts in your head turned into a full on day dream and you dozed off as you walked, not noticing that you had walked by without even looking into his office.

“Fuck” You thought. You missed your chance at seeing him. Should you walk back and potentially get caught walking around his office or should you just give up and go home?

You turned around and headed back towards his office. If he noticed you walking by his office again you could just say you forgot something. But why would he even ask? Your mind started to race with possible scenarios that could occur. Suddenly, you noticed a figure walking towards you. Of course, it was Professor Aizawa heading home.

“Hi Y/N. What are you doing here? There aren’t any classes going on right now?”

Embarrassment flowed throughout your whole body. You weren’t even sure of what to tell him since you were on the third floor of the Social Science Building where all the offices were located. Most of the professors had gone home. You cleared your throat.

“Um- I was just…” God what could you even say? “I just wanted to see if you were in your office- to see if we could plan out my schedule for next semester. You know since you said you could help me” You awkwardly laughed.

“Oh.”

“But I see you’re done for the day so we can just plan ano-”

“No it’s fine. I don’t mind staying later. I’m not busy this evening” He interrupted.

The two of you walked to his office. You felt a little guilty since you’re the reason that he has to stay on campus even longer.

“I’m sorry for making you stay later” You apologized.

“No don’t be sorry. I don’t mind at all. Listen. My job is to help my students. I enjoy this.”

You had no idea why that made your heart rate increase. Were you starting to develop feelings for your professor? You were so confused but you pushed it aside to take in the time you were spending. Admiring every feature of his face. From his man bun, to his 5 o’clock shadow, everything about Professor Aizawa captivated you.

After about an hour, you finally had all your classes for the next 2 semesters planned out. You planned on taking 12 units per semester which included general ed classes along with classes for your major. Grinning at your professor as you put away your paperwork into your backpack, you felt so much appreciation for him. In just 2 days, you were able to not only pick a major, but also plan out your semesters. And it was all thanks to your history professor.

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate you going all this way for me. I really don’t deserve all this honestly. But it means a lot that you are so willing to help me.”

“Don’t sweat it. Seeing you grow is enough of a reward to me. It’s why I do what I do.” He was packing his things as well.

“Well, I’ll see you in class! Thank you so much again for all your help,” waving goodbye as you walked out.

When you approached the door of the Social Science building you noticed that it was pouring rain outside. You had no idea it was even going to rain so you definitely were not prepared. Conveniently, you also planned to walk home since you couldn’t afford an uber home. You decided to try calling your mom, no answer. Friends? The two friends you had both worked. While you were waiting and trying to call your friends, Professor Aizawa approached the door to go to his car.

“Oh my bad.” He could sense that there was something wrong with you which caused him to make a second take to you. “You have a way home right?” Oh no. Were you better off lying to him or being honest?

“Um, yeah I wasn’t aware it was gonna rain today and I was planning on walking home. I don’t know why no one is answering to pick me up.”

“If you want I could give you a ride home. Just so you don’t have to walk home in the rain,” the keys wiggling between his fingers called your attention.

“Oh god haha. I feel bad.”

“I don’t mind. I’d rather drive you home then have you walking home by yourself in the rain.”

“If you can, I would appreciate it.”

“Alright. Let’s go.” He declared.

Walking to the parking lot while sharing an umbrella, you wondered what kind of car your professor would have. Your curiosity was put on hold when you heard a car ring. There it was. You weren’t someone who knew much about cars but the car had a small logo in front. The top of the license plate read: Mercedes Benz. The car shimmered with a clean grey tint. The car itself looked expensive. You both entered the car and headed to your home.

The car ride was about half an hour. It was also very silent. Professor Aizawa occasionally made small talk but due to the fact that it was pouring rain he became too focused on the road. The car was filled with the sound of the radio playing top hits. From time to time, you would glance at him. You noticed how mad he looked when he drove which made you flustered. His left thumb was placed on his lip as his right hand steered the wheel. Whenever someone cut him off, he would tug on his tie to let out his frustration. Furrowed eyebrows and random moments where he would clear his throat as if he was about to say something but never did. You noticed the details about the professor, such as when he would look back, he’d place his arm around your seat which always made you hold your breath with a clear blush on your face.

Professor Aizawa finally arrived at your house. You watched his hand as he moved the gear shift to ‘P.’ He rubbed his five o clock shadow before turning to you. You were lost in him.

“This is your house right?” He questioned which broke you from your trance.

“Oh! Yeah. This is my house. Thank you again for taking me home. I’ll try giving you gas money next time I see you”

“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. Your house is on the way to mine so I don’t lose anything from taking you home. Let me know if you ever need me to drop you off again okay?”

“Sure thing. Thank you again Professor Aizawa!”

“Call me Aizawa. I’m not on the job right now so feel free to just call me Aizawa. Have a good one.” He laughed. You exited his car and walked to your door, noticing that he was waiting until you entered your home which made your heart warm.

When you entered your room, you immediately threw yourself on your bed. An exhale left you and had you feeling a sense of satisfaction. Your whole body felt warm and you weren’t sure why. You felt so many feelings. You constantly wanted to be around Aizawa. A part of you felt disappointed that he would never send you a text message everyday, let alone even feel the same way about you. The other part of you felt a sense of bliss that you were even in his car. Another part of you felt weird and wrong for having these wants and feelings towards your professor. You pressed your thighs together to give yourself the pleasure your teacher would never be able to, imagining his touch granting you all of your deepest desires as a melody of his name left your lips.

The next couple of weeks consisted of you going to Aizawa’s office after your classes. The first couple of days, you would make up random excuses to visit him like homework help, directions, small things like that. As time passed on, you just started to go with no excuse. The two of you would talk for hours about random things. He would even go as far as buy you food. The two of you would eat while laughing about life stories each of you would tell. He would take you home everyday, even teaching you how to drive. The man would constantly tease you for not knowing how to drive.

“So let me get this. You’re 21 and can’t drive?” The man laughed as he took the last bite of his burrito bowl.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, “you know I kinda have a fear of driving.”

“Want me to teach you?”

The more you hung out with him, the more you fell head over heels over him. You felt like your feelings were wrong. Was it bad to like someone 10 years older than you? Someone who already had his life figured out while you were still trying to figure out yours? These questions kept you up at night. The divide within your thoughts had you torn. No one could fulfill you like he could.

You entered his office one Thursday evening. It was the end of the week and the end of finals. You were completely exhausted. When you entered Aizawa’s office, things were different. The couch and your usual seat were gone. You stared at the professor in confusion.

“Oh… are you busy today?” You questioned.

“No. Oh! The chairs- I just needed to get my furniture cleaned since the semester is about to end but I guess they still haven’t finished cleaning.” He kept his eyes on the computer.

“Should I leave?” You were so confused. He was acting so weird.

“Why?” He continued typing, completely unfazed.

“Well there’s nowhere for me to sit…”

“Why don’t you just sit on the floor, princess” Immediately, a look of regret spread on his face. He was so focused typing he didn’t realize what he said, “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.” Both of your faces were covered in a bright shade of red. You tried to ease the discomfort in the room. “Oh it’s okay I actually like it! It’s cute!” Too honest. That was probably the wrong thing to say. Aizawa moved his focus from his computer to you. His eyes could see the longing you felt for him. His eyes knew that you wanted him.

“Oh really?” He playfully said, “In that case, I don’t think a princess should be sitting on the ground like that.”

“Well there’s nowhere else to sit.” You could sense he was flirting with you. Did he want you as much as you wanted him, or was it all in your head?

“Well… why don’t you sit on my lap?” His voice mocked you. The energy in the room had completely shifted. It felt like pure ecstasy. Was this real? Or just another one of your dreams? One of those dreams of your professor that left you absolutely soaked every single time you woke up. There was no way this was reality.

Aizawa had rolled his chair back, waiting for you to join him. His hands hanging from the arm rests, the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows which made your breathing faster. You wanted those hands on you so bad. The urge for pleasure ran all over your body.

“What the fuck” was all you could say. It caught you off guard that he would say something like that. You were so used to seeing him be professional that seeing this side of him threw you off, but you loved this new side of him. And you wanted to have some fun with him…

“Maybe if you would’ve had a chair I would’ve had an actual place to sit..but whatever I guess” You talked back. You knew this would bother him since he was so used to being in charge as a teacher.

“Ahhh so that’s how it’s going to be” which was followed by a sinister giggle and dark stare. Your body was entangled by Aizawa’s eyes. He didn’t even have to lift a finger and you were already walking towards him. He had you on an imaginary leash that you loved. When you were close enough he yanked your arm and placed you on his lap, looking away from him. You could feel yourself getting wet for him.

”Since you want to act like a little brat with me, how about I show you how things are done here? You must’ve gotten a little too comfortable with me so let me put you in your place, princess” He whispered into the crook of your neck, which released a whine in you.

“Look at how wet you are for me, all I have to do is whisper in your ear and you’re dripping for me, I can feel it,” He was right. Aizawa didn’t have to touch you and you were a mess for him. Even in class, whenever you noticed Aizawa glance at you, you would always tighten your thighs just to get some sort of small release. His whisper in your ear made you so weak and he knew that, “So why doesn’t my princess destress herself. I can't even imagine how stressful school must be for her.” His hands were wrapped around you, gently brushing against your bare inner thigh. You always wore skirts everyday in hopes that he could put his hands up your legs and it was finally happening.

“Hnnng” All you could do was whine. Nothing was being done, so how could you already feel so much?

“C’mon. Why don’t you grind on my thigh? I can tell by the way you’ve been looking at me that you’ve wanted this for so, so long. Go on- Here why don’t I help you” The man proceeded to grab your hips and gyrate them. Moving your body in circles, you whimpered cries of pleasure. His toned thigh against your throbbing sex while his hands gripped you. His hands progressively got tighter around your waist and he began using his tongue on your neck to follow the gyrating motion from your hips. All you could do was grasp his hands and cry. You felt so good but you had to keep your voice down since the two of you were in his office and you were scared others would hear.

“God, I can feel how wet you are for me. C'mon let me hear you moan for me, don’t be shy” He nibbled on your ear as he moved his hand down your body and underneath your skirt. He chuckled under his breath as he felt how wet you were for him. Aizawa gave you some time to get used to his touch before inserting two fingers inside of you. An audible “mmm” could be heard and felt from him. He thought it was so hot how much you wanted him. He noticed all those times in class when you would move your eyes to his bulge whenever he was teaching, or when you would stare at his hands when he drove. He wanted to keep you wanting him.

He removed his fingers from your pussy and stuck them in your mouth so you could taste yourself. Moving his fingers, you gagged with watery eyes.

“Look at you. You’re a sloppy fucking mess for me. I can't wait to have my cock in you.” He moaned in your ear before moving you to the ground. The man moved you to the ground and demanded you to strip for

“Strip for me like the slut you are.” He walked back to his seat and watched you fully clothed as you slowly removed your clothes. He didn’t move at all, his eyes stayed glued on you. Meanwhile, you couldn’t even stare at him. You focused your attention to your clothes. After finally taking off everything, he made you crawl to him. A part of you was embarrassed at how much control this man had over you. But the other half of you had dreamt of this for so long. You wanted him to control you so bad.

You slowly unzipped his pants and could feel his erect cock spring out. A trail of precum leaked from it. You took the tip into your mouth as your tongue swirled along his sensitive part which stirred up a groan from the man. After a few minutes, you fully took him into your mouth. You felt pressure on the back of your head. Aizawa had placed his hand on the back of your head to keep you on his entire cock. This elicited a gag from you.

“Damn you would think with the way you dress you’d know how to do this by now. No worries, princess I’ll teach you how” He ridiculed before grabbing your hair and moving your face to his shaft, taking him whole. He started to move your face up and down his cock as he fucked your face. The back of your throat burned and your vision was blurred, however through all that, this was the most fulfilled you’ve been. After so many dreams of Aizawa, you finally had him. Your fantasy was being granted. He came in your mouth, telling you to open your cum filled mouth. He grabbed your face as he spit in your mouth. You swallowed before thanking him.

“Thank you, sir” You breathed. He grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you for the first time. Lips brushed against each other as the two of you mumbled sweet nothings. Aizawa stroked himself as he seductively spoke in between your lips.

“Well since there’s no chair I guess the only place your slutty ass can sit is on my cock, huh princess?” He sat on his chair, his hand around your waist. His hair was down and strands covered his face. A look of sin was conveyed on his face. He wasn’t just your professor anymore. At this moment, Aizawa embodied corruption. This was a completely different side of him that no one would ever get to see. Nobody except you. This realization scared you but it also excited you.

You joined him on the chair and slowly lowered yourself onto his cock. You let out a harsh cry as soon as his tip was inside of you before quickly covering your mouth.

“I want you to fuck yourself using my cock, you understand?” He purred into your ear which sent chills down your spine.

“Y-yes sir” You stuttered before slowly lifting yourself up. Up & down- the motion that would drive you mad. Even the slow speed you were going at wasn’t enough to have your legs trembling.

“Ah..fuck” You moaned.

“That’s a good girl. Like that.” Aizawa murmured. He had sat back and admired you, letting you go at your own pace. Occasionally, the man would pet your hair and caress your face.

After some time, impatience grew for Aizawa. He wanted to fuck you so hard. It took everything in him to let you go at your own slow pace. But his animalistic arousal was getting the best of him. He put his hand around your neck as he put you down on his desk.He buried his cock in you. The pace progressively got faster and faster. You weren’t used to this at all.

“Aizawa fuck. Too fast. Please keep going” You begged. Stars started to form in your vision but the feeling of euphoria you felt ran down to your sweet spot. Your natural instinct in you caused you to place your hands on his chest to move him away due to the overwhelming sensation you felt. In response, he stopped. He grabbed your hands that were on his chest and moved them on above your head. Aizawa undid his maroon tie and proceeded to bind your hands together.

“Your hands were getting in the way.” His raspy voice let out an almost menacing chuckle, as if he was now mocking you. You were in his complete control, which is something that brought out a raunchy side of him. It was something that made you absolutely weak. You wanted to submit to him.

He continued to thrust in and out of you again. Eventually, he was going at a fast pace again. His fuck had your mind blank. All you could let out were whimpers and pleads, while he grunted in your ear.

“C’mon I wanna hear you moan louder for daddy. You're daddy’s princess, let me hear you. Here let me help you” The man moved his hand to your sweet spot and proceeded to move his fingers in circles. By this point, you were practically screaming at all the pleasure he was giving you. You didn’t even care if others could hear your moans. You wanted him to keep going so bad, but could your body handle it? You opened your eyes for a brief second and caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes. His black eyes were full of impurity as he watched you go from his innocent student to his lewd fucktoy.

“I'm not gonna let you cum until you’re begging for me. Why don’t you ask me if you can cum?” his hand on your clit continued to move in circles, picking up speed.

“Ah~ Fuck. I want to cum” You moaned. The man grabbed your jaw in an aggressive manner and moved his face close to yours.

“That’s not what I fucking said. I told you to ask. Guess you’re not good at listening to directions huh.” He said as he sternly looked into your tear-filled eyes.

“P-please- Can I please cum?~” You cried out. You ached for release.

Aizawa began pulling your hips down to him, sinking his fingers into them. His cock could be felt pulsating in you as he quickly entered you. Sparks flew within his office. The room was filled with lust and you could feel yourself rising to release. Both of your breaths got faster and you felt yourself let go. Aizawa had released himself on your stomach. You stayed on his desk and he sat in his chair, the two of you catching your breaths and coming back to earth.

“Here.” Aizawa handed you a cold water bottle. “Are you okay?” The concern in his voice made you finally come back to your reality. He helped you clean you up.

“I’m fine.” You felt more than fine. Your mind had just returned from a state of euphoria that you never thought you were ever going to get. You secretly pinched your thigh just to see if you could have been dreaming. This was no dream. This was just a reality you never expected.

“I wasn’t too rough on you right? I guess I got too carried away.”

“No! Don’t worry about it! I was good the whole time.” You reassured him.

The look in his eyes was different now. They gleamed in the light and had a sweet look. The two of you got dressed again. You made your way to the door of the building, before Aizawa rushed to grab your arm. The man cleared his throat once you turned his direction.

“Do you uh- want to eat something before you go? If you want, I can drive you home.” His cheeks became a bright pink, which made you giggle. The fact that he was acting so shy now after everything that the two of you just did.

“Oh. Sure”

“Alright. I’ll order us some Chipotle. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good.” You smiled at him as the two of you walked back to his office. You guys would end up spending the rest of the evening chatting and embracing each other’s company, literally. The rest of the day would be spent in Aizawa’s arms and you would cherish the warmth of his arms around you, feeling safe.

#aizawa #aizawa x female reader #aizawa x y/n #mha aizawa #aizawa shouta #teacher x student #professor x student #bnha aizawa #my hero x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #aizawa smut #college au

580 notes · View notes

literaila · 3 years

Text

all it takes to fall

spencer x reader

summary: the reader has been acting strange. spencer has noticed. he just might have to help.

warnings: its just basically spencer being in love with you, so fluff, and sleep depravation

***

Spencer wasn't sure when he had started noticing the dark circles under her eyes.

Maybe it was the first morning he’d caught her yawning for the twelfth time. Or after she stared blankly at the wall for longer than a couple of minutes almost every day. Maybe it was when she had stopped making the effort to do her hair in the morning, or when her makeup had become limited and drawn back.

Maybe it was when her laugh was just a tiny bit smaller, and she didn't compliment Garcia’s earrings every morning.

It could have been any one of those things.

But he was pretty sure it wasn't.

See, even before any of that, before her eyes had started to get darker before she’d started slouching everywhere, he’d noticed her.

Way before any of that.

Six months before.

Six months when she’d walked into the room and introduced herself. Acting as if she already knew all of them personally.

Spencer watched as she went to shake all of their hands, her aura surprisingly bright, her energy higher than anyone else in the room.

He watched her smile at everyone, noticed the way she tapped her leg as they all asked her questions, probing her, making sure she was good enough for their family. He frowned at the protective tendencies of his friends, wanting to make them back off slightly, knowing himself how scary it could be going into a completely new place. He could tell she was nervous.

And he’d noticed, that even though nerves were practically flying off of her, she didn't stop smiling, never lost her focus, never once did anything that would prove to anyone but a room of profilers that she was practically overflowing with nerves.

It was one of the first things that Spencer noticed about her.

Of course, besides the moments when she just simply smiled at him and muttered a hi as her introduction to him before moving on.

Six months ago, he’d noticed that immediately.

And then, shortly after that, only hours later, he’d started noticing more.

More.

Like the way, her eyes changed color in the light and the way her face twitched when she was trying not to laugh at something someone said. He’d noticed her scowl when people were talking over her, and how she never once spoke up about anything she was upset about, but always wore the same expression when she was.

He’d noticed how she made it a priority to lift the people she loved up, complimenting them and listening to them as her life depended on it. He’d noticed her tendency to always listen early on.

And of course, he’d noticed the soft way her lips looked. The slightly shy smile she had on when she tucked her hair behind her ear after someone said anything praising her.

He’d noticed how the shoes she wore always complimented her shirt.

He’d noticed how she rarely wore earrings, even though her ears were pierced.

He’d noticed the laugh she always seemed to use around him the most.

He’d watched and watched and.

It was so hard not to notice her.

Everything about her.

There were six months of noticing her, smiling at her from his quiet corner, jotting down every little detail about her in his brain, bringing those notes he took only mentally back up into his brain when he was alone when he had the opportunity to just think about her. His noticings of her.

There were six months of that.

It was inevitable when she’d noticed him too.

And after six months of noticing her hopelessly, she’d asked him out.

“So Doctor,” she’d said when they were waiting for the elevator. Spencer had been staring at her blouse, loving the color with her skin, when she’d finally said something, her smirk shocking him out of his stare. “When are you going to finally let me acknowledge how much you stare at me?”

And Spencer had almost run away right then.

She wasn't teasing, and although on anyone else her smirk would look intimidating, and maybe just a tiny bit threatening, on her, it looked almost kind. Almost like she was asking a question with her lips. And the way she had asked him the question, made it seem genuine like she was asking him permission.

Spencer had stared at her shocked for a moment before clearing his throat. Gathering up the courage to respond.

“What?”

“It's not like I don't do the same,” she said, her smile turning into something more apologetic like she was nervous that he was mad. “I do. I just wanted to know when I could finally ask you about it?”

The elevator had arrived, and she was stepping into it, pressing on the button for a lobby, Spencer following her.

“Oh, I, um-” Spencer stuttered out, his voice caught in his throat.

“It's okay if you’re not ready of course. I’ll wait as long as you need.”

“Ready for what?” Spencer asked, his thoughts finally catching up with him. Staring at her, and her smile. While she watched the wall as if they weren't talking about what they were talking about.

“For me to ask you out doctor.” she turned to him for a brief moment, her smile a little bit amused, a little bit nervous.

It was terribly unfortunate that Spencer couldn't think of anything to say then. That he’d become so struck with her words that all of his knowledge had left.

It was even more unfortunate when the elevator had arrived at the lobby, and she was walking away from him. Turning around to smile, laughing a little bit at the expression on his face, and then leaving.

It was worse because he’d spent that whole night going over her words. Thinking of every little syllable she had spoken out, and thinking of it again. He could barely sleep that night, wondering what he could possibly say to her tomorrow when they had to work again.

But it turned out that he didn't need to worry. Nor obsess over the possibilities.

Because the next morning, the moment he’d saw her, watched her press the button to the elevator they’d been in alone the night before. Watching her gently tap her foot as she waited for it to arrive. In almost a split second, he’d sped over to her, enjoying the way she smiled at him.

“Will you go out with me?” he asked, his voice coming out strangled, his sentence coming together as if he had only said one word, his eyes wild and hopeful but mostly nervous.

And she’d nodded. Smiling as the elevator rang out, the doors opening.

Six months after Spencer had started noticing her, they’d gone on their first date.

It was simple. Dinner and a movie.

But when Spencer had arrived home later that night, after dropping her off at her apartment, walking her to the door so he knew that she was safe, when he’d sat his bag down on his couch, he’d concluded it was the best date he’d ever been on.

The week after that, they hadn't found the time to be alone again, the cases piling up, the stress following.

And two weeks after their first date, Spencer had started noticing the changes.

He’d noticed the change in her appearance, in her attitude, in everything about her.

She was tired.

He could see that much.

Every time he tried to talk to her, to ask her what was wrong, ask if she wanted to go get lunch, or coffee, she was distant. Almost like she was miles away and she couldn't really hear him. Just understood what he was saying.

She smiled at him, but she always declined, coming up with an excuse, or talking about work so that she could avoid his questions.

And he’d noticed.

He let it go. For another two weeks. Four weeks after their date.

But when she stopped speaking up at their meetings, and almost always needed everyone else to clarify the question they were asking her, when she started carrying a full mug of coffee with her everywhere, Spencer had decided he couldn't let it go anymore.

So, after everyone else had left and she was sitting at her desk packing up to go, he’d stared. Stared and waited for her to look at him. Just so he could ask the question.

But when she didn't, when she barely looked up, just clicked her lamp off and stared at the floor as she started to walk out, he hurried to catch up to her.

And there they were.

At the elevator again.

She wasn't even looking at him. Just staring at her shoes.

“Y/N?” Spencer asked, trying to be quiet, trying to be loud enough so that she would hear him.

She looked up then. Stared at him. Tried to smile a moment before she stopped.

“Are you okay?”

She sighed.

When he was closer to her, he noticed more. Like just how dark the circles under her eyes were, the shaky makeup she had on. The tense way she was holding her jaw. The lines around her face didn't seem to be there normally.

“Y/N?”

“I just want to get home Spence,” she whispered, looking back down at the floor.

And then Spencer noticed the way she was swaying slightly on her feet. The way her body had almost caved in on itself. He noticed how she kept rubbing her eyes, kept widening them every couple of seconds.

And then he realized, she was trying to keep herself awake.

He’d known she was tired, it was clear on her face. He knew that she probably hadn't been getting enough sleep, that her changes were probably related to sleep deprivation. He was going to talk to her about insomnia, give her some tips, ask her if she needed any help.

But now, it was clear that she did.

She could barely keep herself up.

Spencer definitely hadn't expected this.

The elevator door rang, and she was stepping away from him, swaying on her feet, starting to lean into the walls of the elevator.

Spencer moved to step in front of her. Taking a chance.

He grabbed her face gently, tilted her chin up so she was looking at him. And she looked exhausted, almost like a corpse, but Spencer smiled. He still looked like the girl he’d been noticing for months. Even if she was exhausted. She was beautiful.

And he was smiling at her when she started to fall away from him, her eyes closing for only a moment and opening again.

Spencer moved to her side to keep her up.

“I’m taking you home,” he said, his voice suddenly serious, his eyes burning on her.

“Spencer-”

“You can barely stand up. You’re falling asleep. I’m not letting you drive home Y/N.”

And then she was leaning against him. His arm was wrapped around her waist, trying to make sure she didn't fall. Her eyes were closed, her face was less tense. She was accepting, letting him take care of her.

He’d noticed that.

By the time they’d gotten to Spencer's car, she was practically asleep in his arms.

He could hear her mumbling under her breath about her car, and that she couldn't leave it in the parking lot all night, but he just smiled, squeezed her closer to him.

He helped her sit down, buckled her up, enjoyed the way she leaned further into him when he leaned over.

“Spencer?” she asked quietly, her voice slurred by how close she was to falling asleep.

Spencer started the car and looked over to her, seeing her eyes barely open but looking at him. He nodded for her to continue.

“Why haven't you kissed me yet?” she mumbled, digging her cheek into the seat.

Spencer stared at her shocked, his eyes wide as he listened to her breathing slow, watched her body relax even more.

While his heart sped up, she was fast asleep in his passenger seat.

He’d been to her apartment before.

Of course, this was before she’d asked him a question that had almost stopped his heart, almost killed him before he could answer.

But nonetheless, he’d still been there.

That meant that he didn't have to wake her up and ask for directions, which he was thankful for. He was thankful that he got to just listen to her breathe in and out, got to look over to her every couple of minutes, and see an adorable pout on her face as she slept.

He hoped she would be alright when he got her home.

The drive was only fifteen minutes. Only fifteen minutes that she got to sleep, and still when Spencer woke her up he could already see improvements. Improvements in her drowsiness, in her dark face, in her tense postures, in her eyes that seemed like they could finally open for the first time that day.

And in her smile.

It had been a while since she’d smiled at him like that.

It took him a moment before he could get her up, she whined and tried to beg for just a little bit longer, just five more minutes. And he smiled and felt a little guilty at that, but he really wanted her to get to sleep in her own bed. A place where she wouldn't wake up sore.

He carried her up to her apartment. And while she was still awake, he thought, at least he didn't have to make her walk.

Though he did set her down when they were at her door, he let her open it, let her lean against it while she struggled with the key.

And eventually, after just a couple of moments too long, he had to help her. He felt displeased at her exhaustion, the reality that she’d only really gotten a couple of minutes of good sleep disappointing him. But he was happy to help. Happy to put his hands on hers and gently take the key from her shaking fingers.

He smiled as he led her in.

Her apartment was the neatest he’d seen it, stuff rattled along the floor, but he didn't mind. The only thing he felt the need to do was to get her into bed for the night, know that she was safe.

There were tiny moments when she seemed aware, almost like she wasn't sleepwalking, moments where she gave him grateful smiles and appreciative eyes. Moments where she almost looked like she was going to say something but stopped. He wondered what those moments meant if she was really feeling better. But, eventually, he put them out of his mind.

“Come on, let's get you to bed.”

Spencer didn't bother looking for some clothes for her to sleep in. Partly because he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. But also because the work attire she’d worn today was already enough like pajamas, and there was no point in changing into something more comfortable. The thought made him frown.

He guided her into her room, making sure that she didn't fall over like he was sure he would so many times.

She held onto him, her warmth keeping him sane.

When she was finally in her bed, wrapped up in the covers, Spencer stared at her a moment, checking to make sure she was really okay, that she wouldn't fall asleep and never wake up.

“Is there anything else you need? Can I do anything else?” he asked quietly, almost in her ear as he watched her turn towards him.

She opened her eyes gently, almost as if it tired her to do it, and shook her head. Spencer was grateful for the small smile on her face.

“Okay. I’m going to go, you need to-”

“Stay.”

She whispered it.

Spencer wondered for a moment if he imagined it. If it was just a noise in the background he had tricked himself into thinking was a word. He wondered.

But he had seen her lips move, had seen her close her eyes as if she was finished being awake now that she had asked. He had seen it.

And he couldn't just pretend he hadn't.

It was just a word, he thought. It was just a word and she was tired, she was practically drunk on coffee, almost dead to the world. He almost laughed. It didn't really mean anything. He had to get home. She needed to sleep. He should go. He should definitely-

And then,

“Stay.” again. “The nightmares,” she whispered, terrified of the idea.

Spencer felt his heart skip a beat. He could tell that she was scared, he could see it in the way her body had tensed, the gentle way she had grabbed his hand when he turned to go. He could hear it in her voice.

And, he’d asked her to stay.

Again.

“Stay, Spence,” she whispered once more, her voice almost completely gone, taken by the sleep deprivation she’d built up.

And he was still holding his hand. Her grip was still tight on his skin. She was still holding his hand.

And he couldn't go.

He didn't mean to watch her sleep.

He’d meant to lay with her until he was sure she would be alright. Until she was fast asleep and her breathing was steady. He just wanted to make sure she was alright. He’d meant to just make sure she’d be alright.

He didn't mean to stay for so long.

But he was entranced.

Utterly entranced by the way she’d grabbed onto his shirt. The way she’d tucked her head down into his chest, wrapping him in her arms.

He was entranced by the way her lips were slightly open as she slept. The way every once and a while her breath would catch and she would hold on tighter, and then finally when she realized he was still there she would loosen her grip.

He didn't see how he could leave.

It was morning now. He’d fallen asleep for a couple of hours, pulled in by her warmth and embrace, and now he was awake again. Watching her.

He’d never meant to stay this long.

But, he reminded himself, over and over, she’d asked him to stay. She had wanted him to stay.

He was only complying with her requests.

And watching her.

He’d noticed her so long ago. Or what felt like so long ago.

He didn't know how, but she’d pulled him in, made him notice her from the very moment she’d walked into the room.

It was obvious the way he felt for her, it was obvious that it wasn't something silly, it wasn't like the passing crushes he had sometimes, on girls who took an interest in him particularly.

It was scary how he felt about her compared to everyone else.

He wondered if it was possible.

If all it took was months of noticing, of months of watching and staring and jotting down notes of her. Months of watching her laugh and smile and frown and worry. Months of getting to know her from a distance, just to be safe. Months of trying to protect her in every way he knew possible. Months of just simply adoring her from afar.

He wondered if that was all it took?

Maybe he had latched on. Glued a piece of himself to her from the first word, the first glance, the first smile she’d given him.

Or maybe she’d reeled him in.

Because that seemed more realistic. Because before he’d met her he didn't look at anyone the same, he didn't notice people like he seemed to notice her. Even involuntarily.

So she must have reeled him in, caught him with her line, and with every word she said, every smile she gave him, every new glimpse of herself that he could notice once again, she reeled him closer and closer and he had no way of stopping it.

He used to worry that he had to swim away. That escape was the only option left, but. Then she’d asked him a question in an elevator, drawing him in closer and closer and.

Was that all it took?

Her reeling him in? Getting closer to her until he was attached?

Was that all it was?

Was that all it took to fall?

He’d noticed her so long ago. He’d gotten too close to stay on the edge of the world. Reeled too far in not to fall off.

And these were the thoughts he was trapped in when she woke up.

He knew it was around eight in the morning, he could tell so by the time the sun had started to rise and the hours he’d spent looking at her.

She was awake.

Her eyes were wide and only slightly tired when she opened them. He noticed how her breathing changed, how her body tensed up when she was finally aware like she’d forgotten that he was there.

But then she looked at him. Confused for a moment, but then smiling.

“You stayed?” she asked, a whisper in their quiet morning.

Spencer was happy to see that the circles under her eyes had disappeared. Not completely. But enough.

“I did. I hope that was okay.”

And then she’d leaned up and kissed him, catching him by surprise, making his heart leap in his chest again. Like she always did.

And he was just a tiny bit closer to her. Drawn in just a little bit farther.

He didn't move, tried not to breathe. Tried not to overthink this. But he was kissing her, she was kissing him.

And when she moved back she smiled.

And it was unlike any smile he’d seen from her before. This one was shy but happy, definitely happy, and almost doubtful. Like she couldn't believe this was happening.

He felt his heart leap again. She felt the same.

“Going to make me do all the hard work Doctor?” she whispered, her eyes still on his lips, her face inches away from his.

He nodded, laughing with her. Appreciating her sense of humor so early in the morning.

“Sorry,” he whispered, dazed by the way she was looking at him.

Her eyes moved away from his lips, up to his eyes, which he was sure were happy. She smiled and kissed his cheek looking up at him.

And then she pulled back.

Spencer looked confused, waited for an explanation, missed her lips against his.

“Will you stay awhile longer?” she asked.

And Spencer smiled again, moving the hair from her eyes, enjoying her change from yesterday.

“Of course,” he answered. “Of course I will.”

Six months of noticing.

That was all it took to fall.

***

Ta da!

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