#I don’t think there’s a single straight line here | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anisespice · 6 months ago

Text

“ the fuck-it list ” || hq! pt. 4

one || two || three

synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list.

pairing: seijoh4 x gn!reader [ oikawa, iwaizumi, mattsun, maki ]

warnings: mature content. MDI. cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, the word “dick” said over a million times lol this chapter is basically bigdick!4 supremacy, corny behavior, camboy!maki, slight mentions of degradation, iwa’s is the shortest (I’M SORRY), some minor errors probably and i think that’s it :] !!

notes: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT :'))) life was kicking my ass and the last thing i could think about was getting metaphorically dicked down lol but hope you enjoy, thank y'all so much for your patience, and the last couple parts coming soon!

tagged: @daedaep69 , @ahahadumbo , @viktoryn , @mdsb , @ourgoddessathena , @ushygushybaby , @hyori2 , @lumpywolf , @fantasycantasy, @captaincyberqueen , @tsukiran

OIKAWA would be the reason the list even exists, let’s be honest.

But, for the sake of the plot, we’ll pretend otherwise.

Once again, without fail, after another grand win for the great king, he’s swarmed by his devoted groupies—Shoving their phones, gifts, and themselves in his face hoping to catch even a sliver of his attention.

And once again, you stood on the sidelines, impatiently waiting for him to leave the spotlight; irked your soul sometimes.

It’s not that you were against him being praised or anything, even though his head was fat enough to begin with, you loved the admiration people had for him. But there’s a fine line between being a fan and being a straight-up weirdo.

And right now, they’re tap-dancing on that line something fierce.

“Tooru!~ will you sign right here?”

One pulled down the collar of her shirt, exposing more of her breasts that were pushed up damn-near to her chin whilst wearing a sultry smile. You caught a small glimpse of panic flash across his features before he covered it with a nervous laugh, eyes subtly shifting over to you as he replied. “..How 'bout a photo instead?”

Things went on like that for the next few minutes. Someone would even take it a step further by flat out asking for his number, or if he was single. They already knew the answer to that, it was the same every time, yet they continuously tried their luck as if someday, through the power of delusion and manifestation, his answer would miraculously change despite you always attending his practices and his games, wearing his spare jersey, holding his hand, shoving your tongue down his throat, didn’t matter—Them hoes were relentless.

But, so were you.

“Oh, Tooru!~ If you don’t wrap this up, you’ll be walking home!~” You sang, mirroring the tone of the girl from earlier. The semi-empty threat made the setter perk up like a hound, eyes wide as that same panic returned as well.

Although this time, he wasn’t so quick to play it off.

“U-Uh,” he squeaked, then immediately covered by clearing his throat. “Yes, uh, well, it’s been great chatting with you all tonight. Thank you again for your love and support for the team, it's always appreciated. I hope you’ll continue to cheer us and myself oninthefuture—WAIT! [____]-chan! Don’t leave, y’know my poor legs won’t survive the walk back! Baby, c'mon, wait up!”

Oikawa whined as he scrambled to catch up to your retreating form, no longer concerned with the crowd of disgruntled faces he left behind as they watched their object of affection slip away yet again. A small part of you wanted to turn back and stick your tongue out at them in petty victory, but you refrained. The sound of their great king pleading for your attention was satisfactory enough.

You barely made it outside before his long arms wrapped around your front, locking you to his chest as he leaned almost his entire weight on you. You could feel his heart thrumming against your head as he panted. Eventually, he huffed, no doubt pouting as he gently swayed you in his arms. “You’re mean.”

Keeping your gaze forward, you frowned. “And I have the right to be. You said you’d tell some of those ‘fans’ of yours to chill out—it’s getting way out of hand, Tooru. That one girl practically flashed her damn tits at you, and you gawked like a virgin.”

He chortled, incredulously, “I did not! She caught me off guard..!”

“And yet, you rewarded her with a photo instead of calling out her inappropriate behavior. Make it make sense.”

You attempted to shrug him off only for his hold to tighten, spinning you around to gaze at you with chocolate brown eyes resembling that of a puppy out in the rain—One of the unfair tactics of Tooru Oikawa to get back on your good side. You had full intent of ignoring him, standing your ground…but how could you possibly stay mad at that adorable face?

Easy. By not looking directly at it.

“Nuh uh. I don’t think so,” you gently pushed away the setter’s face, earning another whine in protest. “You’re not getting off the hook that easily. I’m really upset with you.”

“Buh I dinit do anyfing,” he said through smooshed lips.

“And that’s the problem. You need to set boundaries with them, Tooru. Things’ll only continue to get out of hand the longer you enable it. Next thing you know they’re clawing and biting at your flesh so they can take a piece of you home with them under their nails and in their teeth.”

Oikawa grimaced, leaning back. “Ew. Graphic. They’re fans, baby, not rabid animals. I think you may be exaggerating.”

You cocked a brow. “Am I now? Well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

—

The team had never seen their captain move so fast in their entire season. This was the first time he’d just straight up avoided his entourage and head straight for the showers after practice, scurrying off like his ass was on fire. Questions would spark around the gym about this drastic shift in behavior.

“What’s his deal?” One player voiced. “Usually he sticks around at least another hour to entertain his cult.”

“Not sure. After our last game, he’s been skittish.” Another replied.

A third jumped in after taking a swig of his water. “Think it’s got something to do with that..thing we saw the other night?”

The small group thought back to when all of their phones went off at the same time, social medias in a frenzy about their very own star player. At first glance, they figured it was just highlights of their game, specifically highlighting Oikawa. But, upon further inspection…it was something else entirely.

'Tooru Oikawa. 6’3ft King of the Court, and also our hearts. Being notoriously known as the campus pretty boy, loved by many and envied by the rest, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to consider him the blueprint—The default setting of everyone’s wet dream. He’s a tall, talented, smooth-talker with playful eyes and a panty-dropping smile, a textbook definition of ‘Prince Charming’. Everybody and they mama, daddy, even bald-headed granny would kill to jump this man’s bones. Many would see him as the romantic type, but there’s something more…unhinged hidden beneath the pretty-boy persona. After much debate, our beloved setter is to be dubbed a whole SWITCH, no nintendo. At first he’ll play the dominant role, but edge him long enough and you’ll bring the Great King to his knees, quivering, drooling, you name it. He’s shameless. 9.5/10 - half a point deducted for his inferiority/superiority complex. Get some therapy, babe. ♡’

They didn’t think much of it at the time, when it came to their attention whore of a captain, it wasn’t completely unexpected, especially if his groupies had anything to do with it. The players looked at one another, then back at the gaggle of hormones waiting for the brunette in question by the doors. It was unanimous.

“Yep.” “Uh-huh.”

The third player snorts. “‘bout time it sucked to be him for once.”

When Oikawa eventually exited the locker room, he did everything in his power to appear small, tip-toeing across the floor with his head down and shoulders hunched in crouching tiger-like fashion. He would’ve gotten away scott-free…if not for his petty teammates.

“See ya tomorrow, captain!”

It bounced off the gym walls, the setter grimacing as his devoted followers instantly looked in his direction, predatory gazes stunning him like a deer caught in headlights. Oikawa shot the players a nasty glare over his shoulder, flipping them off and continuing for the exit. He attempted to stiff-arm his way through the hoard, ducking and dodging their grabby hands and shutting down their…bolder advances.

“Tooru-chan!~ Let me show you what I’m capable of, I’ll have you begging in no time, just say the word!~”

“Unhinged men are so my type—Step on me, spit on me, call me names until I cry, I want it all!~”

“I bet it’s bubblegum pink, right? Does it curve to the left or right?”

Oikawa blanched. “Ladies, please, this is ridiculous! You all know I’m in a relationship with-”

“They don’t have to know.”

One had tried reaching out to touch him, but was quickly thwarted when the setter grabbed her wrist. Not tight enough to hurt, but enough to get the message across—Too far. Everyone came to a hush at the sudden display, cowering slightly at the intensity that pooled in his eyes, dark and cold as he fixed the whole group with a stern expression. You were right (obviously). Things escalated the second they were given an inch, with complete disregard to his boundaries and what you meant to him.

These weren’t fans. Not real ones, at least.

Oikawa deeply exhaled through his nose, calming himself down to keep from saying something he’d regret. Releasing the girl’s wrist, the setter gently moved her out of his personal space, resadjusting his bag and sporting a rather disinterested expression.

“It appears you all have misunderstood your place. I’ll forgive that disgusting comment only once. But, if this obscene, rude, and down right shameful behavior continues, I’ll have no choice but to inform the coach of your harassment and have you banned from future practices and games. Do I make myself clear?”

When you arrived to pick up Oikawa per usual, you were surprised to see that he was already waiting for you, not a single group ie in sight.

Skeptical, you looked around as you approached him, thinking those buzzards were still in listening distance, just waiting to pounce. But, when all you’re welcomed with was a big hug and kiss, you relaxed. Oikawa pulled back and gave you a sheepish smile. He explained everything that had happened, rubbing his the back of his neck in embarrassment. When he finished, he looked down at you with those same puppy eyes he gave you the other day.

“Please don’t say I told you so?”

You cooed, reaching up to fiddle with his hair at his nape. He leaned into your touch, content. Until you said, “I told you so.”

He frowned. “You’re MEAN.”

Once IWAIZUMI learned it involved Oikawa in any way, that’s all he needed to know to have no interest in the list. Sort of like Sakusa, if the topic gets brought up, he finds himself tuning out. The last thing he needed was to get dragged into whatever mess his dumbass best friend got himself involved with. But, unfortunately for him, one doesn’t simply choose to be on the list…the list chooses you.

And one afternoon, the former ace was the unlucky winner.

‘Hajime Iwaizumi. 5’10ft hunk made of pure Husband Material. We’re talking the man who’ll open doors for you, pull out chairs, hold your bags without fuss, give you massages, cook you hearty meals, the whole nine yards. With that information in mind, you can’t tell me he’s not an absolute DOG in the bedroom. I’m talking about a man who’ll bully your insides, manhandle you and call you his “favorite cocksleave” or his “pretty little whore”. He’s the type to say the nastiest shit in your ear and tease you for the cute reactions you’d give him before shoving his tongue down your throat, while his dick kisses your appendix. Definitely a Hard Dom who only rewards good behavior, so if you plan to be a brat to this man—Good luck. But, as soon as he’s fucked that attitude outta you he’s back to being such a sweetheart! So so so attentive, so devoted, and will do anything for you. He’s God’s favorite. 1000000/10.’

“Oh? .. Hey, babe.” You said, curiously. Iwa grunted in response. “You know that list thingy Oikawa-?”

“Nope.” He easily answered, eyes focused ahead and he continued bench pressing the heavy bar.

You slap his chest. “You didn’t even let me finish!” He responded with a playful smirk, making you lightly slap him again.

Straddling his lap while he pumped iron was routine. It consisted of him doing what he does and you keeping him company, soaking up his presence until you inevitably left for your next lecture. Sometimes you kept count for him, other times you’d happily just be a distraction; today you did both.

“Haji,” you whined, wiggling a little. He ignored you on purpose, stubbornly refusing to indulge the topic. But that didn’t deter you from pestering him. “Ha-ji-me!”

“Ba-by-doll,” he echoed, grunting shortly after when he placed the heavy weight back on the rack, finished with the set. Panting, he sat up and readjusted you in his lap, hands resting on your thighs as he finally looked at you, amused at your scowl. “I don’t get why you’re so interested in that shitty list.”

“I’m not…until now.”

“Why?”

Turning your phone screen to show him the updated post, Iwa’s eyes scanned it before his brows furrowed in confusion, then tightened with irritation, jaw clenched and annoyance clear on his face. He let out a heavy sigh, closing his eyes to unsee it and merely laying back down on the bench. “Block them.”

You gaped. “What? No way!”

“It’s nothing but perverts with too much time on their hands,” he grunted, lifting up the bar and beginning his set. “It’ll rot your brain. Or what’s left of it, anyways.”

With a dramatic gasp, you retorted with, “Jerk. I’ll retweet and tell them you also love sucking on toes, how ‘bout that?”

Iwa paused mid-push. He eyed you from his laying position, voice dangerously low as he said, “Try it and I’ll bench press you next.”

“Hm.”

Through squinted eyes, MATTSUN briefly scanned the bright screen of Maki’s phone displaying the updated post that started circulating around their group for the past few minutes. Without much reaction, one would think he was too buzzed to be able to even comprehend it.

But he understood all too well.

‘Issei Matsukawa. 6’2ft lazy ass with a third leg. Doesn’t matter if he looks like he uses 5-and-1 body wash, he smells DELECTABLE. And don’t get me started on the gray, low-hanging joggers he usually wears around campus—He needs to be arrested walking around with a concealed weapon in those sweats—sir, put it in me AWAY. The literal embodiment of “If it slaps his thigh when he walk, I’ll listen when he talk.” The ultimate brat-tamer tbh. You can’t get under his skin, he’s so nonchalant and laid back, your attitude would just be foreplay for him (HIS FREAKY ASS). And if you think he’s already big on soft??? Bitch. Gon head and call outta work for tomorrow. 50/10.’

“Uh..congrats?” Kindaichi gave an awkward thumbs up.

Maki snickered, tongue in cheek. “Yeah, man, how’s it feel being ‘dick of the week’? They’re even givin’ it nicknames ‘nd shit.” He scrolled further into the depths of debauchery. Peering from over his shoulder to see for himself, Kunimi‘s face scrunched in mild disgust.

“Someone called it ‘The Door-Knocker’? Fucking cringe.”

“Fucking retweet.” The strawberry blonde hummed in approval. “Oo, I like this one—‘The Punisher’. That’s badass.”

Yahaba snickered only to then start choking on his drink, snatching Kyotani by the front of his shirt for support as he hacked for air. The wing-spiker merely glared, winding his hand back to beat the shit out of his back. “Ack! Kyo—fuc-! BRO STOP.”

“I’m helping.”

“You’re killing me!”

“Same thing,” he grunted.

Mattsun snorted, taking another swig of beer. After skimming through the thread, he lowly drawled out, “Cool, I guess. No big deal.”

He didn’t know much about the list, only that if you ended up on it you were pretty much an ace in the game of dick-slanging. But, he didn’t need some thirsty randoms on the internet telling him that he fucks. He had you to attest to all that, and your opinion was the only one that truly mattered. Not that either of you would kiss and tell.

His friends, on the other hand, felt otherwise. As far as they were concerned, Mattsun was a single man. And right now, he was shitting on a blessing sent from the gods. Maki halted his sip to eye his best friend, beer can lowering suspiciously. “No big deal?”

Mattsun shrugged. “t’s what I said.”

Yahaba finally caught his breath, chiming in with a winded, “Yeah right…you’re probably itching to check your DMs. Tell me ‘m wrong.”

“Ok. You’re wrong,” he replied, chugging the remainder of his beer can before crushing it. Yahaba went to argue, but Mattsun cut him off by speaking through a burp. “Don’t got the energy…to entertain someone who just wants my dick.”

“Don’t you mean, ‘Door-knocker’?” Kunimi teased.

“I thought it was ‘The Punisher’..?” Watari asked, uncertain.

“I saw ‘Horse Cock’ on there.” Kindaichi grimaced.

Mattsun shook his head. “Whatever. Point is, ‘m not interested in racking up my body count anytime soon, so those DMs will just go unanswered. Hell, maybe even deleted.”

“Bullshit,” Maki challenged. He points an accusing finger. “There’s another reason. It’s ‘cause you’re already screwing around with someone, aren’t ya?”

A silence fell upon the group, all eyes instantly honing in on the taller male with metaphorical ears raised high in scandalized curiosity, some (read: Kindaichi and Yahaba) more obvious about it than others. Mattsun merely gave a halfhearted shrug, neither denying nor confirming the information. “Aha! See, see, look at ‘em, dodging the question! He’s so cuffed.”

“No shot,” Yahaba deadpanned, “mister ‘Noncommittal’ himself?”

Mattsun glared. “Oi. I commit to stuff.”

“He’s gettin’ defensive.” Kunimi pointed out with a wry grin.

“Must be true, then.” Kyotani nodded, mischievous glint in his eye.

The others hummed in agreement, theorizing about his type in partners and how there could be a potential special someone in their senior’s life, while the bastard behind it all watched smugly on the couch, sipping his drink like a gossiping old biddy. Mattsun squinted in annoyance at his best friend. “Et tu, dumbass?”

Maki raised his hands, “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You basically told on yourself. No guy in their right mind would ever pass up on that many opportunities unless he’s A) Stupid, B) Aro/Ace, or C) Spoken for. Now, my vote’s between A and C, but feel free to update me on your sexual orientation.”

Mattsun flipped him off, sporting a sarcastic expression.

His phone then began to vibrate on the table. As quickly as they looked at the former middle blocker, everyone’s gaze shot toward the offending device, then back on him; expectantly. Despite his calm exterior the brunette felt his heart-rate spike, brow twitching at the childish looks and jeers he started getting, borderline peer-pressuring him to pick it up.

After a few seconds of continuous ringing, Kunimi huffed in mild annoyance for him to, “Answer it, already.”

Maki added fuel to fire by saying, “Unless you want one of us to answer for you-” Mattsun snatched the phone off the table.

With the grace of a gorilla, he stood from the couch and quickly shuffled to the corner of the room. Answering it, he cleared his throat, face flushing at the chorus of snickers coming from behind him as he greeted you with a simple, but elated, “Hey.”

“Hey, ‘sei!”

“Hey,” he said again, breathing out a small chuckle. “Can’t sleep?”

You responded with your own chuckle. “Yeah, actually. I was wondering if you’d wanna maybe…ride around with me? I’m thinking McDonald’s. Oo! Or that wing place by campus, y’know, the one with the teriyaki flavor you liked? I think they don’t close until, like, 2am. Or…was it 1am?”

Mattsun snorted at your rambles, leaning against the wall as he let you continue. Unbeknownst to him, the guys were practically stacked on top of each other, stretching their ears to hear your voice. From what they could pick up, you sounded so upbeat, animated as you spoke. They watched in awe as their senior barely spoke but was engaged in whatever you were saying, nodding along and humming to let you know he was still listening. If he wasn’t faced the other way, they were certain they’d see a smitten expression on his face.

“Mhm.. mhm. Yeah, ‘m sure that squirrel really appreciated you sharing your almonds, baby.”

“BABY???” The group exclaimed.

The brunette jumped slightly, completely forgetting where he was for a moment there. He briefly looked over his shoulder before turning back towards the wall with a groan—Every single one of those bastards were either grinning or gaping in shock. Mattsun cursed under his breath. You made a noise of confusion.

“Are you with the guys? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt! We can totally chill another night if you-”

“Nah, was just about to leave. Think I’ve entertained these assholes long enough.” He grumbled, walking over to grab his jacket, but not before thumping Maki on the head; the latter hissed through his teeth in pain as he held the throbbing spot. “Rather be with you anyways. I’ll send the address, lemme know when you’re outside.”

“O-Oh, okay then!” You giggled, flattered. “I’ll see you soon. Love you!”

He turned back to look at the group, smug as they still watched him with disbelief painted on their faces as Mr. Non-committal was ditching them to hang with his commitment. Like he tried to tell them before, he didn’t need some thirsty randoms on the internet. He had you, and that’s more than enough.

“Love you too, [_____].” Then, he walks out. Leaving the room in even more chaos compared to when he first answered the phone, immediately on his ass as the scrambled after him for answers.

“[______]?????”

Who would’ve guessed their sweet, beloved volleyball manager from high school was the one getting visits from “The Punisher”.

Within his inner circle, MAKI is usually overlooked. He’s not popular like Oikawa, nor jacked like Iwa, and he’s doesn’t have the whole ‘sexy aloof’ vibe like Mattsun. He’s just…tall. And funny—The ‘Pete Davidson’ of the group. At least, that’s what your friends called him. Somehow, once again during your outing with them at the mall the topic of your relationship became the focal point of the conversation, stretching their brains for why you were so enamored with a guy like him.

“He gotta be packin’. Like, I’m talking anaconda.”

“Type shit. Y’know what they say about them tall and skinny ones.”

You rolled your eyes, wry smirk spreading across your face as you busied yourself sifting through a clothes rack. The conspiratorial discussion had been going on for the past ten minutes, throwing anything and everything at the wall until something stuck—Meaning, waiting for you to confirm. “[_____]. Be honest. It’s ‘cause of his dick, right?”

A lady standing on the other side of the rack gasped in shock, face twisting up in revulsion as she clutched her purse before stomping away, scandalized. You snorted, peeking over your shoulder to raise an eyebrow at them while they struggled to suppress their childish merriment at the poor woman’s embarrassment.

“Quit it before they kick us out.” You attempted to sound stern, but there was no hiding your own amusement. One friend playfully nudged you while the other began to snicker. “And no, it’s not because of that. It’s a bonus, though.”

The first gasped, then exclaimed, “So it is big!”

“’m not finna start with you,” you replied looking back at the clothes, pretending not to know them as nearby customers gave the side-eye. Neither one paid any mind as they continued to gossip. “We have this conversation every time we go out. Give it a rest.”

“Not until you tell us what you see in him.”

“I mean, I get it, but then I look at his friends and…” she hissed through her teeth, shaking her head. “I’m just saying. You fumbled.”

“I’m not taking that from someone who slept with a door dasher just because they got the restaurant to put extra sauce in your bag.”

The guilty party gaped, “It wasn’t included in their instructions, they were a real one for that!”

“Still don’t know why you did it,” the other friend sighed. “The food was cold, and I’m certain they took some of my fries.”

“Shut up, we’re not talking about my poor life choices, we’re talking about [_____]’s.”

“Fuck you,” you laughed. “You two need to get off my man. You haven’t even properly met him yet. He’s a sweetheart, he treats me like royalty, and I don’t care what y’all say, that man is fine.”

“Please. You’re just dickmatized.”

“Enough about his dick already!”

Your outburst drew the attention of a nearby employee; the store manager. Even though she wore a professional smile, you could see death in her eyes. With a nervous smile, you gave an apologetic wave before quickly grabbing your friends by their arms and escorting yourselves out before you got banned. Your closet was getting full, anyways.

“Look…I know the guys I’ve dated in the past were…questionable. But, I really like this one. And I swear the pictures I showed you don’t do him justice, his goofy ass just never sits still.”

They looked skeptical, having heard that one before. You huffed.

“Alright. How about I invite him over tonight? That way you have a chance to get to know him better. And if you’re still iffy, then…then you’ll have to get over it because you love me dearly and want me to be happy and just because you don’t think he’s attractive doesn’t mean I don’t, he is very gorgeous to me-!”

“[_____], honey, breathe.”

You stopped to inhale, then concluded with a small, “Please?”

They exchanged another look of skepticism, until the second added one condition. “He better not show up empty-handed.”

—

When the doorbell rang, the mood instantly shifted in the room, your friends going silent and gazes sharp as they looked at your door. Unbeknownst to all of you, on the other side of the door, Maki shivered, confused where that sudden chill came from. You gave them an eager, though strained, smile before scampering over to greet your awaiting guest. Upon opening the door, your smile slowly dropped at the sight of Maki sipping out of a large styrofoam cup with the words 'Big Gulp' written on it, dressed casually in sweats and a beanie, appearing very empty-handed.

After he swallowed, he gave a drawled, "Yo."

Your eye twitched. "Takehiro." He hummed, taking another sip of his drink. "Remember that important thing we discussed over the phone? Literally the only thing I asked you not to be when you got here?"

He thought about it, taking note of the daggers you were shooting at his cup. Maki made a noise of realization. "Oh, right. I bought snacks too, buuut I accidentally ate ‘em all on the way. My bad. But, look," he shook the cup, "technically still not empty-handed."

A small part of you wanted to be mad, frustrated at the least...but there was no hiding the giggle you rewarded him with, of which turned into more giggles. With sigh, you stepped forward to wrap your arms around his middle in a hug. "You’re so dumb."

"Missed you, too." He playfully rolled his eyes, returning the hug and craning his neck to kiss your forehead. The two of you stood there for a moment, just basking in each other's warmth. But, the moment was short-lived when he gave a long, exaggerated exhale through his nose before murmuring, "Ready?"

"...No." You groaned.

"Damn, do they bite or something?"

"No, they’re just...unfiltered. I love them, don't get me wrong, but they can work on your nerves to an olympic degree. You'll see once we get inside...They're gonna ask about your dick, by the way. Just ignore it."

Maki snorted, bewildered. "I'll try my best."

"Also...try not to mention that...other thing."

"What other thing?"

"You know," you raised your brows, looking over your shoulder in case they were eavesdropping before softly continuing, "that post."

It took a second, but he eventually caught on to what you meant.

‘Takehiro Hanamaki. 6’0ft shameless manslut (affectionately) who’s taken the campus by storm with his rather...interesting side hobby that pretty much has every student reaching for their wallets and switching to incognito mode on their browsers. Who would’ve guessed that lanky, low-eyed beanpole had the talent to film such erotic content and put a whole industry to shame with just his smartphone and a couple LED lights? After getting past the paywall and binging his videos (for research) it’s safe to say this man is very much a power bottom, maybe even a top depending on his mood, with a fowl mouth that’s not afraid to moan like a porn star. Best $200 I’ve ever spent (FOR RESEARCH). Highly recommend if you’re interested in having the best guided orgasm of your life—Link is in the thread! Get that bag, king. 10/10.’

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face instantly. He bounced his eyebrows, leaning down to teasingly say, "Ohh. That post. What? Don't want 'em to know how I make my living? Or, you scared they'll find out you're my number one supporter, always touching themselves just behind the camera-"

"Hiro!" You hissed, face set ablaze as you looked over your shoulder again, anxious. He found your reaction cute, using the straw in his cup to poke your cheek. You huffed at him. "I don't want them to pry. I doubt they've seen it since they go to a different uni, and I'd like to keep it that way. Okay?"

He easily shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

You exhaled, relieved. “Thank you.” You turned to head back inside, knowing your friends were just itching to bombard Maki, however you were stopped when he grabbed your arm.

“But.”

“…But?”

“I’ll let the dick-related questions slide and keep my side hustle under wraps, but you have to do something for me in exchange for my good behavior.”

You tilted your head, nervous. “Like what?”

His grinned mischievously, eyes half-mast as he used his free hand to hold your jaw, making you gasp softly when he tilted your head back. “Instead of being behind the camera in my next video…my number one supporter has to be the star.”

You rapidly blinked, heat traveling throughout your body once you registered his words. Fumbling over your own, you didn’t have time to protest when the door behind you opens wide, revealing your impatient friends. Maki let go of your jaw and settled for wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as he waved at them with the hand that still had the large cup in it.

“‘sup.” He flashed them a sly grin. Maki took in their shocked faces, hoping they were a good sign as he introduced himself. “[_____]’s told me a lot about you guys. Hope you didn’t mind me crashing your get together.”

They absolutely did not mind.

You weren’t lying—Those pictures you showed did him dirty. Nothing could’ve prepared them for the uno reverse that was Takehiro Hanamaki. From his lax posture and cozy demeanor, sleepers build and cute smile, it’s no wonder you were drawn to him. Plus he’s funny with a big dick (allegedly)?????

After you composed yourself, still reeling from your conversation earlier, you eventually mustered up a triumphant smile at your friends as they gaped up at Maki, speechless. “So? You guys still think I fumbled?”

#🍁wasabi #SEIJOH 4 FOR 4 #WITH A LARGE FRY AND DRINK PLS #hq #hq!#hq smut #hq scenarios #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa tooru #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #the fuck-it list

1K notes · View notes

pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 1 month ago

Text

They Accidentally Bring Up an Insecurity| Chan

Gah finally trying to finish this set of fics!!

Bangchan x Gn!Reader

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

The studio was a second home by now. The soft hum of equipment, the flickering lights of the soundboard, and the distant rumble of music playing through Chan’s headphones. You had been here countless times before, but tonight felt different- heavier. Chan’s sighs, the way his fingers tapped nervously on the keyboard, all of it told you that something was off.

You watched him from the couch, phone forgotten in your hands. He hadn’t said much since you arrived, and his silence was unsettling. You could imagine the look he had on his face. His brows furrowed, his lips pouting but also somehow in a straight line at the same time and also pursed.

Finally, after what felt like hours of him brooding in front of the screen, hands hovering without touching a single key, you spoke up. “Chris, is everything okay?”

He didn’t turn to look at you right away. His fingers twitched above the keyboard, hands still hovering just above the keys as if he was debating whether to say anything at all. A long sigh escaped him before he slumped back in his chair, his eyes staring blankly at the monitor. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Just…feels like I’m not doing enough.”

The words hit you harder than they should have, but you kept your face neutral. You had heard Chan talk like this before, the weight of responsibility pressing down on him like a constant storm cloud. But tonight, it felt more personal, like his doubts were cutting into something deeper.

“You always work so hard, though,” you said softly, trying to find the right words to ease his worries. “Everyone sees it. The members, the fans, everyone.”

Chan let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he swiveled his chair to you. “That’s the thing. I don’t think I’m enough. I feel like I’m always faking it, just doing what I can to stay afloat. One day, people are going to see right through me. They're going to be disappointed.”

You frowned, your heart aching at how harsh he was being on himself. “That’s not true. You do more than enough. You-” But your words faltered as something shifted inside you, a familiar knot tightening in your chest. "You won't disappoint anyone Chris. You haven't and you won't."

Chan’s self-criticism, the way he doubted his worth, resonated too closely with the insecurities you kept buried. If someone like him-talented, hardworking, and loved by so many- could feel this way, then what did that say about you?

If Chan didn’t feel like he was enough, how could you ever feel like you were doing enough to support him?

You swallowed hard, trying to push the thought away. This was about Chan, not you. He needed reassurance right now. But the insecurity had already latched on, creeping into the back of your mind.

“I’m serious, Chan,” you continued, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’re amazing, and you’re doing more than anyone could ever ask of you.”

He sighed again, rubbing a hand over his face. “I wish I could believe that.”

You wanted to say more, to keep comforting him like you always did, but doubt tugged at you, making your chest feel tight. Maybe your words weren’t enough. Maybe you weren’t doing enough to show him how much you cared.

Chan stood abruptly, pulling off his headphones. “I need a break. Let’s get out of here.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift, but nodded. “Yeah, sure. Where do you want to go?”

He shrugged, grabbing his jacket. “Anywhere but here.”

You stood and followed him out of the studio, but the knot in your stomach only tightened as you walked side by side through the darkened halls.

His doubts had stirred something in you, and now, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe you weren’t showing your love well enough. Maybe that was why he felt like this- like he wasn’t enough.

The night air was cool as you walked together, the city buzzing quietly around you. Chan hadn’t said much since you left the studio, and you didn’t push him. Sometimes, he needed space to sort through his thoughts, and you respected that.

But the silence only made your mind race.

You ended up at a small diner a few blocks away. It was nearly empty, the late hour ensuring you’d have some privacy. The bell above the door jingled as you entered, and Chan slid into a booth, his shoulders still tense, his eyes distant.

You sat across from him, fiddling with the edge of the menu but not really reading it. The weight of unspoken words hung between you both, heavier than ever. You swallowed the knot stuck in your throat.

“I don’t get it,” Chan muttered after a long pause, breaking the silence. He was staring at the table now, his fingers tracing absent patterns on the surface. “I should be happy. I should feel grateful for everything I have, but I just… don’t, sometimes. I feel like I don't deserve any of this.”

Your heart clenched at his words, the knot in your stomach tightening painfully. The doubt in his voice mirrored the doubt that had been growing in you since the studio. You bit your lip, trying to find something- anything -to say that would make him see his worth.

But then his next words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“Maybe I don’t deserve the love people give me,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “Maybe I’m not doing enough to earn it.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and suddenly, everything he’d said before fell into place. His doubts weren’t just about his work- they were about him. And the worst part was, those same doubts had already crept into your own heart.

Was that why he didn’t feel loved? Because you weren’t showing him enough?

You stayed silent for a moment too long, lost in your thoughts, and Chan looked up, frowning slightly. “You okay?” he asked, his tone softer now, more concerned.

You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, quickly glancing down at the menu. “Just…thinking.”

Chan studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, but thankfully, he didn’t push. He sighed, leaning back against the booth, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m just tired, I guess.”

You nodded, though the heaviness in your chest made it hard to focus on his words. The conversation from earlier kept replaying in your mind, each sentence twisting the knife of insecurity a little deeper.

The waitress came by to take your orders, and you mumbled something about getting fries and a drink. Chan ordered without much thought, clearly still lost in his own world.

As you waited for the food, you found yourself staring out the window, watching cars pass by on the quiet street. Your thoughts were louder than the hum of the diner, the doubts louder than anything Chan could say to reassure you.

Maybe you weren’t enough. Maybe you hadn’t been showing him enough love, enough care, enough support. If Chan—someone who was adored by millions -felt like he didn’t deserve love, then what did that mean for you? What if you were part of the problem?

Chan was rambling on about something, but you barely registered his words. His voice faded into the background as your mind spiraled. How many times had you thought you were doing enough? How many times had you comforted him, thinking your words were making a difference? And yet, here he was, doubting everything, including whether he deserved to be loved.

You must have spaced out because suddenly, Chan was waving his hand in front of your face. “Hey, baby, everything good? You’re really out of it tonight.”

You blinked, forcing yourself to focus. “Sorry,” you mumbled. “I’m just…tired, I guess.”

Chan frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure, love? You’ve been kind of quiet since the studio.”

You nodded quickly, trying to push away the insecurity gnawing at you. This wasn’t about you- it was about him. You needed to be strong, to be the one who could lift him up.

But before you could say anything, Chan leaned forward, his expression softening as he grabbed your hands. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to smile. “Yeah, I know. I’m just…processing.”

He didn’t seem convinced, but he let it go, turning his attention back to the table. The food arrived shortly after, and the conversation turned light again, though there was an undercurrent of something unspoken between you.

Hours had passed since you both left the studio. Chan’s apartment was usually a safe space, where the weight of the outside world faded into the background, but tonight, the air was thick with unspoken tension. You were both physically exhausted, but it felt like there was more lingering beneath the surface.

Chan sat beside you on the couch, his arm draped around your shoulders, fingers idly playing with the fabric of your shirt. The TV flickered in the dimly lit room, but neither of you was paying attention to whatever show was playing in the background. Your thoughts were miles away, circling back to the conversation in the studio and the strange, uncomfortable tightness that had settled in your chest since.

You had been silent for too long. Normally, the quiet between you and Chan was comforting, but tonight it felt suffocating. He had been distracted, the way his fingers twitched against your shoulder, but you could feel his concern. You could tell he was debating whether or not to ask you once more what was up. He knew something was off with you, even if he hadn’t yet figured it out.

But you couldn’t keep it in any longer. Your unshed tears burning your eyes like acid.

“Do you think I’m doing enough to show you that I love you?”

The question came out before you could stop yourself, your voice soft but weighed down by the emotions you’d been pushing down all night.

You felt Chan stiffen beside you, his arm freezing mid-motion as the weight of your words sank in. Slowly, he turned his head to look at you, brows furrowing as confusion flickered across his face.

“What?” His voice was quiet his thick accent laced with surprise, as if the thought had never even crossed his mind.

You bit your lip, heart racing, unsure if you should continue. But the knot in your chest was too tight now, too heavy to ignore.

“It’s just… earlier, in the studio, you said you don’t feel like you deserve love,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I started thinking… what if I’m not showing you enough? What if I’m not loving you the way you need me to?” You swallowed.

Chan blinked, his mouth opening slightly as if to say something, but no words came out at first. He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes wide with shock and something else- something softer, more worried. His arm tightened around you instinctively, pulling you closer, as though trying to shield you from your own thoughts.

“Where is this coming from?” he finally asked, his voice gentle but filled with concern. “Why would you even think that?”

You lowered your gaze, unable to meet his eyes. “Because you feel like you’re not enough,” you admitted quietly. “And if someone like you-who works so hard, who gives so much- feels that way, then maybe I’m not doing enough to help you see how much you mean to me. Maybe that’s why you feel like you don’t deserve love.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the soft hum of the TV in the background. Chan’s expression shifted from confusion to realization, the weight of your words settling over him like a heavy blanket. He shifted his body to face you fully now, one hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“That’s not-” He stopped himself, his brows knitting together as if he was searching for the right words, his thumb brushing over your cheek in a soothing motion. “That’s not why I feel that way. It’s not because of you. Please don’t ever think that.”

You swallowed, your chest tightening even more. “But Chan, if you’re still doubting yourself, if you still feel like you’re not enough, then how can I not wonder if it’s something I’m not doing? If it’s something I’m not saying?” You pressed your palm to your eye as to not let the tears fall.

His thumb stilled against your skin, and for a moment, Chan just stared at you, a deep frown pulling at his lips. He looked pained, like the idea of you doubting your love for him was something he couldn’t quite comprehend nor deal with.“ No, no…” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. “It’s not like that. Not at all baby. Not at all.”

“Then why?” you asked, your voice trembling with the weight of the question. “Why do you feel like you don’t deserve love? I love you...”

Chan exhaled deeply, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest in his lap, his eyes dropping as he wrestled with his thoughts. For the first time since the conversation began, he looked vulnerable- completely stripped of the confident persona he so often carried around you. “I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I’ve felt like this for a long time. Even before you.”

He paused, glancing up at you briefly before looking away again, as if it hurt him to admit this. “Sometimes it feels like no matter how hard I work, no matter how much I give, it’s never enough. I think it’s more about me being stuck in my own head. It’s not about you. You’ve been more than enough for me. You've eased a lot of my insecurities love. I promise. I swear.”

“But how can you say that when you still feel like this?” you asked, your voice rising with frustration. You hadn’t meant to sound upset, but the insecurity you had been burying for hours was clawing its way to the surface, pushing you to confront the painful thoughts you hadn’t wanted to voice. “How can I believe that when you still doubt your worth?” Your lips were trembling.

Chan’s eyes widened slightly at the intensity of your words, but he didn’t flinch away. Instead, he sat up straighter, leaning closer to you, his expression softening in a way that made your heart ache.

“You’ve always shown me love,” he said quietly, his eyes locking with yours. “More than I ever thought I’d deserve.”

His words made your chest tighten in an entirely different way now, a mixture of relief and lingering doubt swirling in your heart.

“But I don’t know if I’m doing enough,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “I don’t know if I’m showing you the love you need. Why can't I fix your doubts...” You looked at him sadly. "Why can't my love fix that?"

Chan’s gaze softened further, and he reached for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. “You don’t need to worry about that,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You show me love every day, in more ways than you realize. The little things, like how you’re always there for me, how you listen when I’m having a hard time, how you never let me feel like I’m alone.”

You blinked, feeling the sting of tears behind your eyes as his words washed over you.

Chan squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with sincerity. “You don’t have to fix everything for me,” he said softly. “Just being here with me, just caring- that’s enough. More than enough.”

You looked down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch grounding you in a way that made it hard to hold onto the doubt. “But what if it’s not?” you asked, your voice trembling. “What if you still feel like this tomorrow? Or the next day? What if I can never make it better?”

Chan’s expression softened even more, and he reached up with his free hand to gently lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I don’t expect you to make everything better,” he said quietly. “You’re not responsible for fixing me, and I don’t want you to think that. I’m working on it, I promise. And one day I won't think about those things anymore. But you-” He paused, his thumb brushing over your cheek once more. “You’re more than enough. You’ve always been.”

His words hung in the air between you, and for the first time that night, the knot in your chest began to loosen, the weight of your insecurities lifting slightly. You could still feel them there, lingering at the edges of your thoughts, but Chan’s presence- his warmth, his reassurance -made them feel more manageable. Less suffocating.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “I didn’t mean to doubt you…or myself.”

Chan pulled you into his arms then, wrapping you up in his warmth, his chin resting gently on top of your head. “You don’t need to apologize,” he murmured against your hair. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like that, baby. I never want you to think you’re not enough for me. You’ve given me more than I could ever ask for.”

You closed your eyes, letting the comfort of his embrace wash over you. His heartbeat was steady against your ear, grounding you in the moment, reminding you that you were here, together. That you didn’t have to carry the weight of your insecurities alone.

The doubts might still be there, but with Chan by your side, they didn’t seem so overwhelming anymore.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest.

Chan pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “I love you,” he whispered back, his voice filled with quiet sincerity.

And for the first time that night, those doubts were finally quiet.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark

#skz imagines #stray kids reactions #skz x reader #skz reactions #skz stay #skz angst #christopher bang #stray kids #skz fluff #skz

501 notes · View notes

jeonsweetpea · 1 year ago

Text

Devoted to Trouble

Spider-Man!AU | Peter Parker!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst

rating: explicit

description: In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world?

word count: 11.5k

warnings: Seven JK… need I say more? JK being a SIMP, JK being a flirt, the entirety of the Seven MV being Peter Parker/Spider-Man coded, JK being a dork, JK is persistent and annoying but in an endearing way, fake death, cursing, the most respectable fuck boy!JK, he just loves you so much

smut warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), standing 69, dirty talk, protected sex, face-riding, breast play, strength kink, standing sex, missionary, serpent’s embrace, that line from his working out live, multiple orgasms, sir kink,

a/n: Hello! IT IS DONE. My two loves combined in one, Spider-Man + Jungkook! I just love the idea of JK being such an unserious Spider-Man/Peter Parker who only loves you and wants you and voila! He is your lovesick loser. :))) I sure hope you love him as much as I do. Feel free to let me know what you think! Thank you for reading.

Monday

You didn’t know why you bothered dressing up for dinner when the end goal was to turn Jungkook down. After his identity was revealed to the public (source unknown), panic set in, and you realized that a future together was not possible. However, out of courtesy, you decided not to flake on the date after promising him. The boy was ecstatic, and deep down, you suspected his ego loved the fact he won over someone like you, who had consistently turned him down.

As you approached the restaurant door, someone unexpectedly rushed past you to open it himself. Startled by the sudden action, you jumped in surprise.

“Jungkook? Oh my god, you scared me!” you exclaimed. He offered an apologetic smile, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. You noticed his heavy breathing, wondering if he had exerted himself. “Did you run here?”

“Yeah, I was stopping a heist nearby and didn’t want you to wait long,” he replied.

Your heart softened at his thoughtfulness, but it also served as a reminder of why a future together would be challenging. “You didn’t have to waste your stamina. I just got here.”

“Trust me, babe. I have plenty of stamina.”

His mischievous grin earned an eye roll from you as you entered the restaurant. Following closely behind, he effortlessly secured a table for the two of you, thanks to his well-established reputation. The table was smack dab in the middle of the restaurant, where guests took advantage and began gawking and whispering about you two. You did your best to ignore them while Jungkook hurriedly pulled out your chair and took his place across from you.

“Thank you.”

It was impossible to ignore his striking appearance. He exuded an irresistible charm in his black leather jacket and white graphic tee, his long hair partially parted, his lip piercing accentuating his stupidly handsome face. He was pure temptation, staring you straight in the face, but you had to remain strong.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” he commented, his gaze momentarily glancing at your cleavage before meeting your eyes once more. You scoffed, though deep down you knew the dress you hugged your figure perfectly.

“Really? My boobs?” you retorted.

“What? Am I not supposed to admire them when they’re so perfect and right in front of me?” he playfully responded.

“At least try to be subtle.”

“I don’t want to be. There’s no reason to hide my appreciation when I’m in the presence of someone so beautiful. I want you to know that every single day.”

A rush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “Thank you. You’re… pretty beautiful yourself.”

“Aw, thanks,” he quipped, executing a dramatic hair flip. “I know.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, eliciting a smile from him. He took joy in making you laugh. However, you quickly cleared your throat, keeping your objective in mind.

“So Jungkook um… I have something to tell you,” you began.

“Okay, cool. I do too.”

“I want to go first. I—”

Unfortunately, the waiter interrupted at that moment, inquiring about your drink preferences. Jungkook swiftly ordered two glasses of red wine and then refocused his attention on you.

“You were saying?”

“I um… I need a drink. Let me have a drink first before I say anything,” you nervously said, mentally kicking yourself for being such a chicken.

“Okay, then can I go first?”

“Sure.”

“Will you be my girlfriend? Like officially?”

The question caught you off guard, causing you to almost choke on nothing. You hadn’t anticipated him asking that until after the date. Damn. He was derailing your plan.

As the waiter came back with the two glasses of wine and placed them on the table, he asked you what you wanted to eat. Jungkook asked for a moment to look over the menu before the waiter left.

“So? What do you say?” he asked, flashing you that cheeky grin of his. You had to stand up for yourself and express your true feelings to him. This was a waste of time and he had to understand that, despite what your heart desired.

“Jungkook, I came here for one reason and one reason only.”

He lowered his head and shook it, sensing that whatever you were about to say wouldn't be something he wanted to hear. “Uh oh, this doesn’t sound good. The date just started, love. Did I do something wrong? Was I too forward?”

"No, well, yes, but that's not the point. I just—this is a waste of time. It won’t work out between us,” you stammered.

He raised his head, still shaking his head in denial. “How do you know if we don’t try?”

“I’m not interested in being in a relationship.”

“Really? Is that so?”

“Yes, it is so. We’re done.”

He narrowed his eyes and chuckled, amused by your determination. “Break me off another time, darling. Let’s see how the evening goes first, hmm?”

You had to fight that tingle in your body every time he called you a nickname. “Let me make it crystal clear. I am not interested in being with a superhero.”

“Ah, there it is. Babe, don’t worry. I won’t let my Spider-Man duties affect us.”

You rested your elbows on the table and gestured with your hands as you expressed your frustrations.

“But they will. Sorry, but superheroes aren’t boyfriend material. They always end up suffering. I don’t want to spend everyday worrying about you getting hurt or possibly dying. Shoot, I don’t want to die. You’re not even the slightest bit worried about your enemies coming here right now? I’m afraid for my life!”

You observed his face for any sign of a reaction, noticing his eyes wandering the room as his lips moved slightly. Straining your ears, you could hear him humming the tune of the song playing in the restaurant.

“Are you seriously singing right now?!” you asked, enraged at him not taking you seriously. In that instant, some of the lights flickered and the ground trembled, causing the wine glasses on the shelves in the back to wobble. Another powerful shake startled the elderly couple at the table next to yours, prompting them to stand up in shock.

Jungkook stopped humming and offered you a warm smile. “Sorry, it was a catchy song. I was listening.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was. Babe, nothing’s going to happen to you. I’ll make sure of that.”

“You can’t be sure of that. You’re not psychic.”

“No, but I’m Spider-Man. I’ll protect you. Look, I get it. It’s scary and I know you’ve been let down before in the past from other guys. But I’ll love you right.” The way he spoke with a pout was killing you.

“No. It won’t work out.”

“... Then let me fuck you right,” You gave him a judgemental glare and he added on, “All day everyday. Seven days a week.”

He even put up seven fingers to emphasize his point.

“Okay, that’s a big proposition that not even you could fulfill.”

“Well let me fulfill that sweet pussy of yours tonight and you’ll see.”

“Good god, Jeon! How are you so nonchalant about your identity being revealed?!”

You found yourself leaning back in your chair, utterly stunned, as a chandelier plummeted from the ceiling. The resounding crash failed to startle either of you because of how engrossed you were in the conversation. Jungkook shrugged at your question.

“Because, at the end of the day, I’m still me. I’m human. I pay rent, I buy groceries—living my life like any other person. I’m not letting this identity thing stop me from doing what I love. Which hopefully includes you in this case,” he replied with a flirtatious wink.

Frustration mixed with a tinge of concern welled up within you as you rose from your seat. He had just dropped the “L” word and so casually too. You didn’t know how to handle it. In that moment, a much larger explosion erupted directly behind you, causing you to cower in fear. Although the debris lightly brushed against your back, you stumbled. However, Jungkook swiftly caught you in his lap, flashing a bright smile as if this was a normal occurrence. Which for him, sure, but not for you.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You bit your lip, struggling to articulate your thoughts into a coherent sentence and decided to leave. Jungkook followed, reaching out and grabbing your shoulder. In frustration, you spun around, attempting to shake him off.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about!”

“Are you okay?” he repeated, his voice taking on a more earnest tone.

“... Yes. But we won’t work out. I’m sorry.”

This time, you exited the restaurant, and Jungkook let you. Then, he used his web shooters to leap through the hole created by the explosion, determined to put an end to whoever was causing the chaos.

Tuesday

The next morning you swiftly prepared for work and hurried to the train station. As luck would have it, the doors opened for you just in time as a herd of people got off. You seized the opportunity to hop on and secured the first available seat you saw.

Putting on an earbud and playing some calming music, you closed your eyes and gathered your thoughts, which were primarily of one person—Jungkook. Of course you wanted to be with him. He was everything a girl would want.

You had initially met him at a friend’s birthday party, where his flirtatious nature was hard to miss. Yes, he had a reputation and had been around a lot, but that didn’t bother you much. Sometimes you wished you had the guts to separate love and sex like that, but you couldn’t. For you, intimacy was intertwined with emotional connection and a shared future.

And Jungkook wasn't like that, it seemed. Of course he was fun to talk to, you had even exchanged numbers that night. Because of his constant advances, you sensed that he might only be interested in a physical relationship. That thought made you apprehensive, so you turned him down twice (yes, it took every ounce of strength in your body to do so) to prevent getting too close.

“I don’t do one-night stands, Jeon.”

“Can you do seven-night stands?”

“I can’t stand you.”

“But I really like you.”

Nevertheless, Jungkook remained a great friend who was there for you when you needed him, despite his constant advances. The two of you supported each other and lent an ear during challenging times. Him being Spider-Man made so much sense because you remembered the many times he’d show up late, but he always had a gift for you to make up for it, whether it was a small snack, the keychain you’ve been eyeing online, a pin of the place you dreamed of traveling to—he was always thoughtful in that way.

You recalled the times he’d show up with random scars and bruises, claiming he got them from work (which wasn’t a total lie), but now you knew which work he was really referring to. It worried you, but he’d brush off your worries by telling you he was okay. Still, you’d trace the scars in concern with your finger, the two of you soon locking eyes, knowing there was something more.

Unfortunately, your rough dating history prevented you from letting others in as easily as you used to. You always expected disappointment because that way you could never truly be disappointed. Yet somewhere along the way, he managed to break down your defenses, and your walls crumbled.

If Jungkook could be described in one word, it’d be genuine. He was sincere in everything he said, everything he did, giving his all. He knew you better than you knew yourself, almost like you had met him in another life.

The third time he asked you out for dinner, you finally caved. It might’ve had something to do with his heartfelt message that morning, describing a dream of you two dating and his immense happiness (the dude sent you a whole essay for goodness sakes). You were a sucker for such heartfelt gestures and realized you were ready to love again.

But then everything changed when his identity as Spider-Man was revealed. Dating a hero was something you couldn't allow yourself to do, and rejecting him was the right decision for both of you. Even if you missed him.

Suddenly, the commotion from nearby startled you, causing your eyes to flutter open to an unexpected sight. Outside the train window, Jungkook dangled against the glass with the biggest cheeky grin. He waved at you as if it were a completely normal situation.

“Hi [Y/N]!!!” he shouted. You put your hands on your head in distress.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed, your loud voice prompting some people to retreat to another corner, allowing you a clearer view of the audacious arachnid.

“I wanted to see you!!!” His words were muffled, barely audible with the glass being a barrier.

“What?” you said, cupping your ear, struggling to hear him clearly.

Jungkook repeated his words, this time speaking slower and accentuating his lip movements. As he did so, he used his free hand to illustrate his words.

"I," he pointed at himself, "Wanted," he gestured by rubbing his heart, "To," he pointed with his index and middle finger at his eyes and then at you, "See you!"

Feeling embarrassed and exasperated, you rolled your eyes and directed your gaze towards the ceiling. Deciding to move to another cart on the train, you began walking away. However, Jungkook hoisted himself up to the top and walked in tandem with you. Eventually, you settled into another seat, assuming he had given up, only to find his cheerful face peering at you upside-down from behind.

“Ahhh!!!” you screamed, almost shitting your pants from the surge of fright.

“I MISS YOU!” he exclaimed.

“For god sakes, leave me alone, you idiot!”

“I can be your idiot!”

Finally reaching your destination, you bolted out of there, with Jungkook persistently following in your footsteps. Once you got to the donut shop you worked at, you were completely out of breath.

“Hey [Y/N]. Are you running a marathon or something?” Your manager, Jin, tossed you an apron and you somehow caught it.

“No. Crazy. Man. Stalking me,” you said in between breaths. Jin grabbed the nearest object, which was a feather duster, wielding it with exaggerated finesse. You hurriedly positioned yourself behind him and put on the apron, keeping a close eye on the entrance. As expected, Jungkook swung into view, striking a perfect pose at the front.

“Wait, is that who I think it is?” Jin said. Jungkook entered your workplace with a bright and mischievous grin. “Oh my god! It’s Spider-Man!”

“Hey~. You weren't going to hit me with that were you? Or were you going to give me a thorough dusting?” Jungkook quipped. Jin immediately hid the feather duster behind his back, letting out a nervous laugh.

“No, I would never hit the famous Spider-Man, Seoul’s greatest hero. Can you sign some T-Shirts for me later? Maybe even sign my face and make it more handsome?”

“Sure.”

You dropped your jaw in disbelief and Jin gave you a stern look. “Well? What are you waiting for? Go serve him!”

“What? He’s the crazy person who keeps following me!”

“He’s going to skyrocket our sales in a day, go go go!”

You let out a groan and approached Jungkook with a defeated posture. "Please follow me this way," you said with a tone of dejection.

“Don’t slouch!” Jin scolded. You straightened up as Jungkook trailed behind you towards a table. Your acute hearing caught the stares and whispers of the few customers who were already there.

“So… Ms. [Y/N], is it?” Jungkook said, even going so far as to squint to look at your nametag. “Pretty name.”

“You know my name.”

“I know you’re into me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Well, that’s the plan. If I could, it'd be every hour, every minute, every second.”

“Geez, this is harassment,” you said, trying to maintain a steady tone. “What do you want to drink, sir?”

“Sir? I like how that sounds.” Disgust twisted your face as you regretted letting that word slip, a habit from your long tenure at the place.

“Jungkook, either order or get out.”

“Are you on the menu?”

“You’re such a troublemaker. I’m getting you a different server.” He burst into laughter, raising his hands as if caught in the act.

“Okay, okay. I’m kidding. I’ll have an Americano.”

“Great. Be right back.”

“Yay!”

“Shut up.”

“Aw.”

You quickly got his drink ready (having half a mind to spit in it but realized he’d probably enjoy that so you refrained) and returned to hand it over.

“Is this the to-go cup?”

“Ah, very observant. It’s because I want you ‘to-go.’ Out the door. Right there,” you said, pointing to the exit.

“Well, just for that, I think I’ll stick around longer if you know what I mean,” he teased, emphasizing the word “stick” with a wink.

“Jungkook please. I’m working here.”

“Can we just talk?”

“I don’t have anything left to say.”

“Not even to the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man? I know you must have some questions. Like why is he so lovable, kind, handsome—”

“Tries to get in everybody’s pants?” you finished for him.

“That’s not true. I haven’t gotten into yours.”

“I knew that’s the only reason you kept asking me out.”

He gasped, holding a hand to his chest. “I’m offended. You should know I think more highly of you than that, babe. I care about you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not interested, Jungkook. Find someone else.”

“Why? I thought we were hitting it off so well.”

“If by hitting it off you mean you stopped hooking up with anything that had a pulse until I came into the picture, then yeah, we hit it off.”

“Hey, I was proving to you that I was serious. About you, about us. I’m devoted.”

“Gee, thanks for keeping it in your pants for that long. You deserve a trophy.”

“Nah, but if you’re offering to be one, I can’t say no.”

“I’m not sure if I should be insulted by that. I’m not some prize to be won.”

“I know. I’m just saying I’d worship you.”

You tried not to get flustered at his words. Just then, a swarm of reporters, paparazzi, and fans barged in, and Jungkook stepped in front of you, shielding you from the camera flashes.

“You’re Spider-Man, right?” one of the reporters in the front asked.

“Yeah. So what?” Jungkook replied, showcasing a camera-ready smile that made everyone swoon.

“Is that your girlfriend?” a photographer asked. Jungkook extended his hand behind him, pulling you close and positioning you securely on his back, almost like a shield.

"Well, we're still a work in progress."

"So, that's a no then?"

“I’m not giving up. She has me wrapped around her finger.”

“Are you gonna have his spider babies?” a fan shouted from the back. You covered your face, mortified, while Jungkook chuckled. Luckily, Jin diverted the attention of the crowd by demanding they give him free publicity for the donut shop or else they’d have to take their services elsewhere. You begged Jungkook to leave and he obliged, but not before giving you a playful wink.

“I’ll see you again.”

“Please don’t.”

“Seven days a week. That’s a promise.”

Wednesday

“H—”

“Don’t talk to me.”

Seriously, the laundromat? He couldn’t even let you do your most hated chore in peace? You yanked each piece of clothing out of the machine, aggressively stuffing them into the basket you had while he sat nonchalantly behind you on another machine.

“Come on, babe. I’m offering all of me to you.”

“Not interested.”

You walked away from him, placing your basket on another machine's surface, preparing to fold your clothes on the table. Naturally, he trailed after you like a devoted puppy.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re Spider-Man. It’s not a good idea for us to be involved with each other.”

“You’re still on that?”

You folded your shirt, shooting him a glare, despising how effortlessly he rocked his torn jeans, pale blue hoodie, and crisp white tanktop. He had such a gentle beauty that drove you crazy, especially with that soft puppy dog gaze of his. Why did the universe have to serve you the most attractive man on earth on a silver platter, knowing you couldn’t have him?

“Still on that..? Still on that?! I seriously can’t stand you!” you shouted, throwing your shirt aside in frustration. As you stormed away, you suddenly felt a splash on your ankle. Looking down, you realized the place was flooding. People all around were panicking, attempting to open the locked door. However, Jungkook remained unfazed.

"You don't mean that."

"Jungkook, the place is flooding!" you cried, the water level rising faster than before. It was now up to your waist, and a wave of panic began to wash over you.

"I'm going to die. I knew it. I knew this would happen if I got close to you! It's all your fault!" you exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“At least we’ll be together.”

You shoved him hard enough that he stumbled back, making a sizable splash in the water. But despite your actions, he continued his relentless rambling. “See, this is a representation of how I feel. Without you I’m drowning. Give me a chance.”

He held your hand underwater and you pulled away, unable to register how unserious he was taking this. You let out a frustrated sigh, the water rising up to your neck, causing you to float up to the ceiling, where the lights were flickering wildly. Desperately, you pushed against them, as if hoping they would magically grant you more space.

“You know what, maybe death isn’t so bad after all.” you muttered.

“Let me love you right.”

“Does this look right?!”

You groaned and took a deep breath, going underwater to get away from him and his flirtatious words. Of course, he copied your actions but used his super strength to punch the glass windows and release the water. As it drained away, you laid there on your back, gasping for air. That was until Jungkook’s stupid face appeared before you.

“Need CPR? Have no fear–”

You swiftly pushed his face out of the way and sat up. “Nope, I’m good. Kiss me and you’re dead.”

Outside, a colossal twister of water surged into existence, taking the form of a massive entity that roared with immense power. Its presence was damning, with the sheer force of its swirling torrent causing nearby buildings to suffer damage.

“Well… that’s new,” Jungkook said, marveling at the sight before him. He clenched his fist, a sense of duty and readiness forming within him. Yet, your knowing look brought a hint of reluctance to his expression. He spoke in pouts. “Do I have to go? I don't want to leave you here alone.

You crossed your arms but offered an encouraging smile. “Go get ‘em, tiger. I’ll be okay.”

His pout transformed into a determined gaze as he nodded, accepting your words as a catalyst for action. Before he ventured into the chaos outside, he turned back to face you.

“I’ll come back for you. Get somewhere safe.”

Your concern for his well-being prompted you to call out to him before he left.

“Hey!” He turned around, his eyes shining with anticipation of your words. “If you… if you die, I’ll kill you.”

Your playful threat elicited a chuckle from Jungkook. With an assuring smile, he took hold of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I won’t.”

Thursday

“Is that Spider-Man?”

“Quick, someone call 911!”

Jungkook shouldn’t have been texting and swinging, but you weren’t replying and he was worried. By the time he lowered his phone, it was too late and he crashed into the back of a double-decker tourist bus. People found him lying motionless on the street, facedown. The ambulance arrived at the scene and placed him on a stretcher, gradually stirring him from his drowsy state.

In the midst of the commotion, Jungkook’s sharp eyes spotted you on the sidewalk, clearly concerned about his well-being. When your gazes met, you realized he was fine and started walking faster to get out of his line of sight.

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m alright!” Jungkook protested, scrambling to get out of the stretcher’s restraints. The paramedics urged him to stay put, but he didn’t listen. He ripped the restraints off and pursued you, catching sight of a flower vendor along the way. He handed them an absurdly large wad of cash, disregarding how much he overpaid for a bouquet (but hey, it brought joy to the vendor). Delighted by the sight of the flowers now in his possession, he twirled around in sheer bliss.

“[Y/N]! Wait!”

You were in the middle of walking across the street and by the time Jungkook got there, a car nearly hit him, causing him to nearly stumble and drop the bouquet. The car’s blaring horn compelled you to finally turn around, swiftly grabbing him by the arm and guiding him to the safety of the sidewalk.

“Are you crazy? Weren’t you on your way to the hospital?” you said, releasing your grip on him. With a toothy grin, he handed you the bouquet of sunflowers.

“I heal fast. These are for you.”

You stared at the flowers, then back at him, overcome with disbelief.

“I hate flowers,” you confessed, a tinge of annoyance in your voice.

“Wait, really?” he said, his hand instinctively reaching for his forehead in frustration. “I thought girls loved flowers.”

“All they do is wilt and die.”

“Well, you said I wasn’t boyfriend material, but I’m trying my best. You know what, it’s fine. I’ll take them back. I’ll get the boyfriend thing right one day. You’ll see.”

His face beamed with optimism, but it stung your heart a little. Unable to resist, you extended your hand towards the bouquet. “No, I’ll take them. They’re beautiful, thank you.”

He studied your movements and you even went as far as to smell the flowers letting out a satisfied “ahh” sound afterward.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, okay~. Get out of here. I have work and you have to get to a hospital!”

“No, I’m fine.”

You placed your hand on your hip and playfully jabbed him in the side, causing him to flinch. "Ow, ow, OW! Alright, I get it. I'll go to the hospital."

You spun him around and nudged his back. “Alright, go on. Get out of here.”

“What am I, an animal?”

“Worse. An arachnid,” you joked. Jungkook walked back across the street once it was clear, making sure to turn back and wave at you. You waved back and when he finally got far enough, you let out the sneeze you had been holding in.

“Ugh… now I gotta find a vase,” you said, sniffling. Jungkook quietly smiled to himself, his heightened sense of hearing providing him with another reason to love you.

Friday

This was the worst thunderstorm you’ve seen in a while. You just finished watching a movie you’d been dying to see and would usually take the train home, but you had to first be able to get to the station without problem. This was one of those times you wished you had a car.

Due to the storm warnings, most people had left the theater early. You found yourself alone outside, contemplating whether to go back inside and wait out the storm with the employees. However, before you could make a decision, you heard a familiar voice.

“[Y/N]! What are you doing outside? It’s raining like crazy!”

“Oh no.”

You began walking away from him in the freezing rain, berating yourself for not bringing a jacket with a hood. Jungkook followed closely behind you.

“Are you really going to keep avoiding me? Even in this weather?”

“Yup!”

“This is crazy. Come to my place. It’s not far away.”

“Nice try.”

“I’m serious, this is dangerous!”

“So now you can realize when a situation’s dangerous!”

You kept on trudging on amidst the ferocious storm, which only worsened the more steps you took. The wind became so powerful that abandoned pieces of furniture and appliances were scattered across the street. You took shelter behind a washing machine just in time to avoid being blown away by a gust of wind. Unfortunately, Jungkook wasn’t as lucky and desperately clung to a pole to avoid being swept away. But even still, he managed to call out for you.

“See?! This is why you should come back to my place!!!”

“Is sex the only thing on your mind?!”

“If it’s with you! Oh shi–” His grip loosened and he flew backwards in the wind current.

“Jungkook!” you screamed, abandoning your safe spot to rush to his side. He laid motionless on the ground, unresponsive even as you shook him. “Are you okay? Please respond. I can’t–I can’t deal with the thought of losing you. Come back and annoy me, damn it!”

He let out a sputter of a laugh and then quickly shut his lips, still pretending to be dead.

“You little shit. Wake up this instant!”

“No, I could die happy now because I know you care about me.”

“Troublemaker,” you said, landing a punch on his chest. The impact jolted him awake, and he groaned as you turned away. However, a massive tree branch was heading your way through the wind and before you could react, Jungkook shot a web and pulled you to safety, right into his arms.

Gasping for breath, your heart racing from the sudden surge of adrenaline, the two of you locked eyes, oblivious to everything else around you. Even in the rain, he remained breathtakingly handsome, with his long, black hair clinging to his face and water cascading off his cute button nose. Your gaze trailed down to his stylish black and white jacket, appreciating the definition of his abs visible through his drenched white t-shirt.

“Do I have permission to take you back to my place now?” You felt your words get caught in your throat. "Please," he added softly, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation and hope. You simply extended your hand, and he stared at it, taken aback. Realizing your sincerity, he became ecstatic and tightly held your hand as the coincidental storm came to a halt. Hand in hand, you dragged him in a specific direction, noticing how he did a cute little run to keep up with your brisk steps.

“Wait… this isn’t the way back to my place,” Jungkook said, his voice filled with confusion. You simply smirked and continued to drag him by the arm towards the entrance of your destination. "Why are we at a police station?" he questioned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Babe, if you wanted to handcuff me, I already have a pair back home."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you responded, "Trust me, this isn't about handcuffs."

A smirk formed on Jungkook's lips as he leaned closer, his voice laced with amusement. "So, what's the grand plan then? Are you filing a restraining order against me?" His words held a hint of excitement, as if he was relishing the idea.

You pretended to consider it for a moment, then nodded with mock seriousness. "Yup, that's exactly what I'm doing."

Jungkook burst into laughter, his infectious giggles filling the air. "You're serious right now?"

Your expression turned determined as you raised an eyebrow. “Yup.”

He gave you his signature doe eyes. “I’d rather die than be apart from you.”

“Go ahead.”

Saturday

Trouble: I miss u. Pls talk to me.

Trouble: I need u to ride my face. I was dreaming about it, like seriously.

Trouble: Aren’t u curious if webs come out my dick? Trouble: Spoiler: they don’t.

Trouble: Ok, pls I’m dying. Really. Help.

Immediately after receiving the last text, you wasted no time in calling him. He picked up after the first ring.

“Jungkook? Are you okay? What happened?!”

“Hmm? Nothing, I’m fine. Yay, you’re talking to me.”

“... I thought you said you were dying!”

"Yeah, because being away from you feels like dying."

“This isn’t funny, I was seriously worried you died or something. This is exactly why I can’t be your girlfriend. Bye.”

“No, no. Please don’t go.”

You hung up, but a flurry of texts flooded in and seeing the same unread message notification was driving you crazy. So you did the sensible thing and turned off your phone because your break was over anyway. Part of you thought Jungkook was going to show up at your workplace again but as the hours passed by, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was nowhere to be seen.

Maybe I should turn on my phone again… just to see if he’s okay. No, I shouldn’t give him the attention. Or maybe I should? Where is he?

“Hey [Y/N],” Jin said, gesturing for you to come over to where he was sitting, “You need to see this.”

You set down the cleaning cloth you were holding and made your way over to the booth he was at, where a large television overhead was displaying an explosion that happened a couple hours ago. Jin turned up the volume and your heart dropped as your mouth turned dry.

The words “Breaking News” flashed across the screen as the news anchor stated, “In a shocking turn of events, tragedy struck earlier today as an explosion ripped through the apartment of Jeon Jungkook, known to many as the heroic figure, Spider-Man.”

Seeing the picture of Jungkook smiling in the corner made you fall to your knees. You stopped listening after they said he was presumed dead, and the authorities still had yet to recover his body. You didn’t even realize you were crying until the first tear dropped off your chin. Grabbing your phone, you quickly turned it on, anxiously waiting for the screen to load. Opening your text messages, you read them all quickly.

Trouble: I’m sorry for scaring u. :(

Trouble: I just wanna be with u.

Trouble: Am I annoying u?

Trouble: I probably am.

Trouble: But ur all that’s on my mind.

Trouble: I know I’m jumping in fast. But I know I can make u happy. <3 We’ll take it slow. Whatever u want.

Trouble: Text me when u can.

The last text gutted you.

Trouble: I really do love you. 🙂 I always will. Seven days a week. <3

You called him right after, but it was sent straight to voicemail. You tried again, only to meet the same fate.

“Please tell me you’re alright… please tell me you’re alive,” you said through broken sobs. “There’s so much I want to tell you. Please call me back.”

Later that evening, Jungkook returned from a mission from a ways away at the request of Iron Man (how could he say no to Iron Man, the dude worshiped him). In the car, his mentor showed him the news video and Jungkook was stunned to see how everyone presumed him dead. Seeing how there was already a funeral service planned for him, he was astonished at their efficiency.

“Can I borrow a suit?” Jungkook asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He wanted to set things right, but he had to do it with style. His mentor was more than happy to oblige, finding his protege’s plan hilarious.

When the funeral service began, you were seated among your mutual friends as well as the civilians who adored him. One by one people came up to the podium to say a few words except for you. You hadn’t processed the shock of his death yet, clutching your phone in hopes he’d text you or call you soon.

“[Y/N]? Would you please come up and say a few words?” You looked up at your friend and realized everyone had already gone. Slowly you approached the podium and took a deep breath, trying not to stare at Jungkook’s handsome portrait.

“Um… hello… I’m [Y/N]. I’m uh… well, some of you think I’m Jungkook’s girlfriend, but we hadn’t established that yet,” You licked your lips to wet them to be able to continue speaking. “I want to believe he’s still alive. I want to tell him so many things. You know, he asked me out three times.”

The crowd smiled at this and it gave you the confidence to go on. “Yeah, I know. He was persistent. It’s honestly one of the things I loved about him. And you’re probably thinking why didn’t I give him a chance? Well… this is why. I was afraid he’d get hurt someday and I’d lose him. And now… I probably have.”

You started to cry again, but wanted to keep going. “Even though I knew this was always a possibility, it doesn’t hurt any less. I miss him. I miss his stupid jokes, I miss the way he scrunches his nose, I miss the way he looks angry when he eats something delicious… I miss him. I wish he knew the truth.”

You looked at the closed casket in sorrow. “I love you, Jungkook. I was just too scared to admit it.”

Walking over to the casket, you sighed. “How could you leave me? You said you’d always love me…”

The casket slowly opened and a familiar voice said, “Seven days a week.”

Everyone at the service was letting out cries of shock, some even standing up or falling down. One even fainted and someone shouted, “IT’S A GHOST!”

You were face to face with Jungkook in a pinstripe suit, smiling at you brightly. You stumbled backwards, shocked as he jumped out and stood in front of you.

“Hey,” he said warmly. Your brain couldn’t register how relieved you were and the overwhelming flood of emotions caused you to default to hitting his chest repeatedly.

“Don’t ‘hey’ me! What the fuck is going on?! I thought you died, how could you just pop up in a casket like it’s normal? Where the hell were you? You stopped replying and I got worried—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” He caught both your wrists and chuckled. “I’m alive, I’m okay. I was out of town for a bit helping Iron Man. Not my fault I come back and everyone presumes I’m dead.”

“You didn’t pick up my calls…” you said, calmer than before.

“Ah, my phone got destroyed in the battle. No big deal though, I’ll just get a new one.”

“I really thought you were gone,” you said, hating that the waterworks were coming back. You could barely breathe and hiccups were leaving your lips faster than you could keep up with. He pulled you into a hug, patting your back gently to ease your worries.

“I’d never leave my girl,” he whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength to say more, so you let him hold you as everyone flooded out of the room to spread the news about Spider-Man’s return.

Walking hand in hand, you led him away from the somber atmosphere of the service, a glimmer of happiness returning to both of your faces. His smile, as bright as ever, mirrored the joy you felt at the simple act of your joined hands.

“Taking me to another police station? For the record I didn’t fake my death. I should sue the news station for that.”

You shook your head, your voice softening as you spoke. “No. We’re going to my place.”

Jungkook came to a sudden stop, causing you to stumble back a bit, caught off guard by his abrupt halt.

“Are you serious?”

“Well… yeah. Your place was destroyed. It’s late. Were you going to stay somewhere else?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Oh. Okay,” you said, trying to mask your disappointment. “Guess I’ll go home then. Goodnight.”

You tried to leave, but Jungkook wouldn’t let go of your hand, finding your reactions adorable.

“What? Are you sad I’m not going home with you?”

“Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes. “It’s your loss, really.”

You stared at the ground, kicking a pebble across the street to distract yourself from your own vulnerability. Jungkook cupped your face and tilted your head up, so you would look at him.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go home with you, beautiful. I do. But there’s a chance they might go after your place next and I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you. You were right. I wasn’t taking things seriously.”

A mix of surprise and tenderness washed over you as you heard him acknowledge your concerns.

“Did you just admit that I was right? I must be dreaming.”

“To be fair, I’ve put away a lot of bad people and most of them are too terrified to face me again. I guess I let my guard down, thinking we were in the clear.”

“Yeah, that type of arrogance is why you’re such a pain.”

“But you love me anyway. I heard you say it.”

“I’m starting to regret it honestly.”

“... I still heard it.”

“Y-Your death caught me off guard,” you stammered. “Anyway, what are we going to do then if we’re both homeless?”

“I have a place we can go to. Do you trust me?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you hesitated only for a moment before nodding in affirmation.

“Yes.”

“Then come here.” He gently guided your hands to wrap around his neck, his touch sending a comforting warmth through your fingertips. “Now, put your legs around my waist.”

You followed his instructions, securing your legs around him, feeling the strength in his embrace. A grin spread across his face as he saw your trust.

“Good girl. Hold on tight.”

He launched a web toward the tallest nearby building, propelling the two of you into the sky with incredible height and speed. You held onto him tight, loving how you finally got to swing with the one and only Spider-Man.

Jungkook ended up swinging you to the Avengers Compound. He was assigned a room a while back and hadn’t used it much, but tonight was the perfect opportunity to do so. It was more than safe with the latest security updates, so you didn’t need to worry about him or yourself.

Naturally, walking into the Compound felt out of sorts to you because you didn’t feel like you belonged. It was like you trespassing on sacred ground. But once you reached Jungkook’s room, that feeling gradually dissipated. The spaciousness and comfort of the room welcomed you, making you feel more at ease. Windows surrounded the room, allowing natural light to pour in, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere. A dumbbell rack occupied one corner, a testament to Jungkook's dedication to staying fit, while on the opposite side stood an impressive gaming setup.

Taking a seat on the bed, you watched as Jungkook immediately knelt down on one knee, his gentle hands reaching for your heels.

“Let me take these off for you.”

You offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“It’s my honor.”

Your eyes locked for a moment, the unspoken connection between you both growing stronger. However, Jungkook cleared his throat, breaking the intimate silence.

“I’ll get you a change of clothes. They might be big though if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you… for taking care of me.”

Jungkook smiled warmly, his eyes sparkling with tenderness. “It’s my purpose, love.”

His words resonated deeply within you, leaving you speechless. Fortunately, he broke eye contact and went over to his closet, pulling out an oversized T-shirt with a pair of sports shorts. He handed you the neatly folded pile of clothes and gestured you towards the bathroom. After you got changed, you opened the door to see he had already changed too. He wore a gray shirt and matching gray sweats, the simple attire making him effortlessly stylish.

“Do you have a toothbrush?” you asked timidly. He nodded and went over to grab one from the cabinet for you, selecting your favorite color on purpose. Grabbing his own toothbrush, the two of you brushed your teeth in silence, occasionally meeting each other’s gaze in the mirror before looking away.

Once done, you both walked back to his room, but he stopped at the doorway. “So um… I’ll sleep in the living room. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

You shook your head in protest.

“I need you.” He looked at you with wide, curious eyes. “Because… It's cold in this room. And two people in the room allows enough body heat to travel and set the room to optimal temperature. If you leave, it’ll be too cold to sleep at night.”

You mentally cursed at how stupid you sounded right now, but Jungkook kept smiling at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his life. “Well, if it's a matter of optimal temperature, then I guess I have no choice but to stay. After all, I wouldn't want you shivering in the cold all night, now would I?”

“Exactly. It has to be balanced.”

“Alright. You’ve convinced me.”

Jungkook stepped into the room and shut the door. You quickly got under the covers but then realized he was grabbing an extra comforter from his closet and placing it on the floor.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“This is your room. Don’t be silly.”

“But—”

“Sleep with me. U-Up here. There’s plenty of room.”

Jungkook watched you closely, waiting for a shift in expression but you were dead serious. He awkwardly put the comforter back and made his way over to you, getting underneath the covers.

“Goodnight,” he said, the stiffness evident in his voice.

“Goodnight,” you replied, your tone mirroring the tension in the room. Jungkook turned on the lamp on his bedside table, casting a soft glow across the room, and both of you lay down on your respective sides, facing away from each other. The air in the room grew thick with palpable tension, amplified by the sound of your racing heart and shallow breaths.

“[Y/N]?”

“Yeah?”

“I promise I’m not trying to sleep with you, so sleep comfortably, okay? I won’t try anything.”

Something inside you snapped, a surge of emotions and desires bubbling up to the surface. You couldn't hold back any longer. “Maybe I want you to try something.”

His body stiffened for a split second, and then he quickly turned over to his other side. Following his lead, you mirrored his movement, facing the opposite direction.

“Are you… sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured. I know a lot’s happened.”

You chuckled softly and cupped his face, your eyes full of love and desire. “What am I going to do with you, Trouble?”

“Am I… Am I Trouble?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah. You are. You always will be.”

His grin widened. “I like it.”

“I like you.” There was a brief pause as you stared into his eyes, noticing how his pupils dilated. “I might even… love you. A lot.”

You tenderly traced his lip piercing with your thumb before leaning in, allowing your lips to meet in a gentle and lingering kiss. Jungkook responded eagerly, his lips moving in sync with yours as he sought the perfect angle and rhythm. He placed his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you closer, intoxicated by the sensation of his lips on yours. A soft moan escaped your lips as he gently nibbled on your bottom lip, his teeth teasingly tugging at the delicate skin. The kiss continued for a few minutes until you leaned back, needing to catch your breath.

“Wow…” you breathed. “You’re good.”

“I know. I’ve been dreaming about kissing you for as long as I can remember.”

A moment of silence filled the air, carrying a blend of tenderness and a hint of inexperience. Jungkook’s been with plenty of women, sure. And you too had your fair share of dating experiences. But this would be your first time with each other. Until now, you two had never shared a kiss.

Jungkook, being considerate and thoughtful, wanted to make sure you felt at ease throughout the entire experience. Taking his time, he gently asked, "Are you okay if we… continue?”

“Yes,” you replied without hesitation. “It’s okay.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Unless all that talk about fucking me seven days a week was a lie,” you challenged, the smirk on your face branding you as a total brat. Jungkook immediately got on top of you, pinning both your wrists over your head.

“Oh babe… you have no idea what I’m capable of, do you?” He kissed you again, pulling away with an audible smooch sound. “Such a tease.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

He poked his tongue against his cheek at your bratty behavior, opting to pin you down with one hand while the other traced the lines of your body, stopping at the hem of your shirt. He watched your face for confirmation.

“Go ahead, Trouble.”

He slid the material up slowly, revealing your breasts to his feasting eyes. It was his first time seeing you like this and god, you were more beautiful than he could have possibly imagined (and he’s imagined you plenty of times).

“Please, do stare longer,” you teased, trying to fight the self-conscious part of you.

“I’m memorizing every detail,” Jungkook said, his eyes full of admiration. “You’re gorgeous.”

“You really think so?”

Usually you’d be more confident, but with him, you felt shy. Maybe it was because he had more experience than you, leaving you with a lingering curiosity about how you measured up against his past flings. Or maybe it was because he’s Spider-Man and the fear of the unknown loomed in your thoughts. Or maybe… you knew this one night would change things between you two forever.

“Hey…” He released your wrists and rubbed circles on your waist with his thumb before proceeding to place a chaste kiss there as if to ease your worries. “I mean it. You’re beyond stunning, I’m a lucky guy. Don’t ever doubt yourself.”

“Thank you… I don’t know, I just… I’m scared. Things will never be the same after this.”

“Yeah… that’s true. I know you’re worried and think this won’t work out. I know you’re doubting a lot of things. But if there’s one thing you shouldn’t doubt, it’s my love for you.”

“Jungkook…”

“I want you safe. I want you to be comfortable. We don’t have to do more. Okay?”

His eyes were sincere, his smile earnest. The way he kissed your forehead sent a comforting warmth throughout your whole body. He was so gentle with you, how could you not love him?

He was about to get off of you until you confessed, “I love you too. And I don’t want to hold back anymore so…”

You cupped your breasts together with both hands, luring him in. “Don’t hold back either.”

Jungkook didn’t say any more and immediately took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it hard. You arched your back in pleasure as he massaged your other breast while flicking your nipple with his tongue. Moans and licking noises left his lips, the sinful sounds increasing your desire tenfold. Running your hand through his luscious black locks, you tugged gently to bring him closer and he responded with a groan.

“Your breasts are fucking perfect, you’re perfect,” he said raspily as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment before sucking on the skin hard enough to bruise it. “You’re such a temptation.”

He placed his face in the valley of your breasts, littering your chest with kisses before latching his warm lips on your neck. You mewled when he sucked the spot under your jaw, figuring he left another hickey.

“I have work in the morning,” you whined in faux protest, secretly relishing in the fact he was claiming you as his.

“Good. Now everyone can envy who I have as my girlfriend,” he said, continuing to make out with your neck. His hand trailed down your body and slipped into your shorts and you felt him smiling against your skin, relishing at feeling how wet you were. “No panties? You’re already so wet for me…”

His middle finger rubbed up and down your slit a few times as you took in some sharp breaths, especially when he pressed on your clit. You wanted more, you needed more. Thrusting your hips up so the pressure would be just right, you sighed in content.

“Such a needy girl. I haven’t even done much and you’re already such a mess.” He dipped his middle finger slowly, invading your tight walls. You moaned as he thrusted it in and out, waiting for you to adjust to the size before inserting another. He curled them just so, knowing he was hitting the right spot by the way your body reacted. Your breaths were becoming shaky, your body trembling, as you begged him to go faster.

“Please, don’t stop, sir,” you pleaded. His eyes darkened, loving how you addressed him. He fingered you faster as a reward, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut in bliss as your orgasm built up. Curses left your lips as you squirmed on his bed and he loved every second of it. What sealed the deal was when he attacked your neck again, biting down with just the right amount of pressure to pleasure you. Your first orgasm ripped through you and he helped you through the blissful waves, scissoring his fingers expertly.

“Such a good girl, so sexy,” Jungkook praised, gradually slowing down when your body gave out. Your chest rose and fell as you came back down to earth. He chuckled, removing his drenched fingers and sucking them clean, making obscene wet noises. “Fuck, I need more. You taste amazing.”

He got in between your legs and carefully pulled down your shorts as you lifted your hips up, discarding them behind him. You got nervous when you realized he was staring at your womanhood unashamed, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth.

“You’re staring,” you pointed out shyly. He palmed himself through his sweats, shaking his head.

“No baby. I’m admiring. So fucking sexy… I need you to ride my face. Please.”

“But what if… what if I crush you?” you asked timidly, having not done something like that before.

“Ugh, I’d die happy. Sit on me, please. Here,” He laid flat on his back, so his head was slightly hanging off the edge of the bed. “Get off the bed and hover over me.”

You obliged but were still apprehensive. He stared up at you upside-down, rubbing the outside of your thigh soothingly.

“Come on, baby. Ride my face and I promise it’ll be worth it. We can stop whenever you want.”

“You’ll let me know if I’m hurting you?”

He chuckled at how sweet you were being. “Yes, I will. Now open those pretty legs of yours, yeah. Just like that. Fuck,” You got closer to him and appreciated he was guiding you every step of the way. He kissed the inside of your thigh. “Let me have a taste.”

He palmed your cheeks and secured his head snug in between your thighs before licking a stripe of your cunt, cleaning up the mess he made of you while also encouraging more to come. You shuddered at the feeling of the wet muscle licking your folds and he moaned, the vibration sending tingles up your spine. He was devouring you like a starved man, the slurping sounds sinful, almost primal.

He pulled you down more, allowing his tongue to slip inside and you were transported to heaven as he began tongue-fucking you as deep as he could. You couldn’t find the strength to hold yourself up anymore, so you placed your hands on either side of his body to hold yourself steady. But that’s when you noticed the tent in his pants and decided to pull his sweatpants down, exposing his large, aching cock. Not only was his length impressive, but the girth was more than you expected, your mouth watering at the thought of it inside you.

However, you had to give back and you ran your nails along his thigh to get his attention.

“Of course your cock is also perfect,” you said. Jungkook ceased his actions for a moment, his breath hitched at the thought of what you were going to do next. “I want to please you too, Trouble.”

“Fuck, please do. Wait, I have an idea. Switch spots with me.”

“Hmm? Okay…”

You were clueless of his plans, but you laid down on the bed upside-down while he got up, removing his shirt and sweats completely. Your shirt was the last article of clothing left on your body, so you removed it as well while ogling Jungkook’s defined body. He was toned in all the right places as if sculpted by the gods themselves, a delicious feast for your eyes. As he hovered above you, the tip of his cock was dangerously close to your lips, so you placed a chaste kiss on it.

He rubbed your cheek lovingly at this action, pleased. “You wanna suck my cock that badly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.”

“Good.”

In one swift motion, Jungkook wrapped his arms around the underside of your thighs and lifted you up so that you and him were both standing together. Except you were still upside-down, realizing he wanted to do the 69 position while standing. You let out a yelp at the sudden bold action and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

“Oh my god, oh my god, please don’t drop me.”

“I’ve got you, beautiful. You okay?”

“Your dick kinda smacked me in the face.”

“Oh shoot, I’m sorry.”

You giggled. “It’s okay… I kinda liked it.”

Your hands gripped onto Jungkook’s firm ass for support as you slowly took his cock deep in your mouth. He hugged your waist securely, returning his mouth on your pussy and sucking harshly while moving his head side to side rapidly. Your moans were muffled by his cock as you did your best to bob your head up and down in the difficult position. The blood rushing to your head made things a little harder to focus, but you continued to deep throat him while swirling your tongue around his member.

Each time his cock hit the back of your throat, he let out a restrained moan, increasing the pressure of his lips on your clit. But you were relentless, not letting up on your steady pace.

“Fuck, are you trying to make me cum?” Jungkook asked, breathing heavily. You released his cock with a loud pop of your lips.

“Is it working?”

He gently placed you back down on the bed and then proceeded to grab a condom from his nightstand drawer. “I don’t want to cum until you do.”

You rearranged yourself so you were oriented correctly on the bed while you watched him rip the package open with his teeth, which was very seductive in your eyes.

“Guess that means no spider-babies then,” you joked. A faint blush colored his cheeks in response to the comment.

“I want to do things right with you. Maybe after some time… we can take that risk,” Jungkook said thoughtfully. You felt your heart blossom, wondering how it was possible to love him more than before.

You watched as he rolled the condom onto his fat cock before climbing back in bed in between your legs. Using one hand to hold himself up, the other one slowly guided the tip to your entrance, teasingly rubbing it up and down your slit.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes. I need you inside me.”

You held your breath as he slowly inserted into you, making sure you could take the first inch before adding another. He prepped you well, the transition smooth, but you let out a whimper when he finally bottomed out into you.

He shuddered above you, growling at the sensation. “You’re squeezing me so tight, love. You feel so… so good.”

He grabbed both your hands and intertwined his fingers with your own as he began to thrust into you, his movements nice and languid, making sure to shove his entire cock in you before pulling out again. The moment was full of passion and tenderness, the love he had for you undeniable. You were observant how his face was a portrait of restrained desire, etched with visible tension as he continued to fuck you. His features contorted, the muscles in his jaw tightened, and his brows furrowed in a valiant effort to restrain himself.

“Jungkook…” you breathed. “You’re holding back, aren’t you?”

He opened his eyes and stopped moving, a pang of guilt spread across his face. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.”

“It’s different this time.”

“Because you’re Spider-Man?”

“Because it’s you.” You clenched around him tightly at that and he hissed. “Fuck… and you say I’m trouble.”

You gave him a peck on the lips. “I want you to feel good too. I can take it. Fuck me like you love me.”

Your words were filthy despite the angelic glow casted upon you from the lamp on his bedside table. He inhaled sharply and pushed himself up so he was sitting on his ankles, his hands taking place on your thighs while your legs rested on his shoulders. Kissing your ankle gingerly, he proceeded to pick up the pace, thrusting into you with a rough slam before repeating the motion over and over. You had the wind knocked out of you when he finally went to town, jack-hammering into you aggressively.

“Fuck, fuck, Jungkook, oh my god,” you said, unable to do anything but take the assault to your cunt. Your breasts bounced up and down with each thrust, the sight so inviting that he embraced one of them for stability.

“Is this what you wanted? Huh?” Jungkook asked as if he was challenging you. You could barely reply with a broken yes before he changed things up, pinning your hands down again while forcing your legs to go up all the way, slamming his hips into you mercilessly. You were screaming at this point, your pussy wrapped around him tightly like a vice.

He grunted as he exerted himself, loving the way his muscles burned while your face contorted with pleasure. Suddenly, he pulled out of you and lifted you up so that your legs were wrapped around his waist as he sat on his knees on the bed, kissing you deeply and giving the both of you a quick break.

“You’re such a good girl for me, letting me fuck that sweet pussy,” he whispered in between kisses. You braced yourself on his shoulders as he guided his stiff cock back inside you, moving you up and down as he pleased. The squelching sounds of your pussy were obscene and you couldn’t do anything but take it deep. It didn’t take long before Jungkook was standing, finding more stability this way and holding you securely before ramming into you at a bruising pace.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure, unashamed about your strength kink and how his strong muscles fucking you were a dream come true. The familiar pleasure was building again and you were near tears at this point when your second orgasm of the night hit you faster than expected. You threw your head back in bliss, crying out his name like a mantra.

Before you knew it, you were placed back onto the bed, thankful you could catch your breath. Honestly you could have passed out at this point, but with a swift move, Jungkook flipped you over so that you were on your stomach and he laid on top of you, his tattooed bicep holding your neck gently as he panted into your ear.

“You thought we were done, right? We’re not done,” he said, voice deep and husky.

You gulped, feeling another wave of arousal in between your thighs. “You didn’t cum yet?”

He let out a sinister chuckle. “Weren’t you listening? I said I’m not done. Understand?”

“Yes sir. I understand.”

He slid his dick into you once more, fucking you like a madman while holding you close, whispering sweet words of praise into your ear. His moans became more broken over time, more whiny, indicating he was close. His hips were stuttering, but he pushed through and slammed into you one final time, releasing into the condom. You let out a content sigh as he finally released you so you could lay your head down while he rested his on your back, panting.

“Fuck, you were so amazing,” Jungkook said after a couple minutes, pressing butterflies kisses on your back.

“Yeah, you were… so…” You couldn’t even finish your sentence, still in a daze.

He smirked. “Good? Fantastic? The best you’ve ever had?”

“... Maybe.”

He pushed himself off you and pulled out his dick, taking off the condom and tying it to discard in his trash can. As much as you wanted to bask in the afterglow and fall asleep, you knew you had to clean yourself up properly. To your surprise, Jungkook scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bathroom himself.

“Go pee,” he urged, setting you down.

“You need to go pee too,” you countered.

“... Will you hold it while I go?”

You burst out laughing, recalling how you saw that trend on TikTok for couples. “Oh my god, no.”

“Damn,” he said, joining in your laughter. You noticed how his dick was still semi-erect and honestly, the size was still very remarkable.

“Are you still hard?”

“It’ll go away, don’t worry about it.”

“... Well… where are your web shooters?” you asked with a certain twinkle in your eye. Jungkook licked his lips at the thought of what you were possibly insinuating.

“They’re in my room of course. Why?”

“... Maybe you can use them on me.”

Let’s just say you didn’t get to “clean up” after yourself for a while.

Sunday

By the time you woke up, your hands instinctively reached out for Jungkook only to feel nothing but the bedsheets. Sitting up straight, you stared at the empty spot in wonder. Where could he be?

Getting out of bed, you found your legs to be a bit wobbly. The memory of last night’s events resurfaced and you smiled in amusement. Jeon Jungkook talked big, but oh, he kept his word. Even your lower back was aching, but you persevered and explored the Compound looking for him.

It was when you went up to the rooftop balcony that you spotted him on something quite unexpected. The place must’ve been under construction or something because Jungkook was dancing on a platform in the air that was attached to a crane nearby. He was jovial, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. You went over to the ledge right away, waving your hands around so he would notice you.

“You’re awake!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. You shook your head as a smile broke out on your face.

“What are you doing, silly?”

“I woke up early. Couldn’t sleep anymore. Too happy.”

He held onto one of the ropes on the corner of the platform, dangling half his body off of it without a care in the world. You wanted to rip your hair out at his recklessness.

“What are you doing?!”

*Thwip, thwip*

In an instant, you were pulled off the ledge and onto the platform with him, caught securely in his arms. “You idiot! What if I fell?! Oh my god, get me down. I’m gonna kill y—”

He kissed you tenderly and you melted like butter, unable to resist his touch. When he pulled away, you saw how he glowed in the warm sunlight and the insurmountable love in his gaze.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

“What are you even saying right now?” you said softly, giggling at how cute he was.

“We can go on a date. Like, a proper one. No chandeliers falling, no hanging off trains, or laundromats flooding. I promise.”

You placed your forehead against his. “I’d love to, Trouble.”

“Yay! I have a girlfriend!!! The best girlfriend ever!!!” he shouted while jumping up and down, causing the platform to wobble. Panic settled in your features as you hit his chest.

“We’re going to fall, you idiot!”

“I’m finally your idiot though,” he said, squeezing your waist. You sighed, knowing he was right. The Jungkook you knew was always trouble.

But now he was your Trouble.

And then the blip happened... I’m totally joking. LOL. Hope you enjoyed!!!

#jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #spider man jungkook #bts x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x original character #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook seven #my scenarios

4K notes · View notes

nikoco11 · 1 month ago

Note

wavin at you. so question: how’d you get so good at drawing bodies? i’m pretty decent at them but you can draw bodies from just so many angles and in so many perspectives and that’s always hard from me. do you use references? how do you break the body down to be able to do those perspectives so well?

waving back at u hello!! tagging in ur other questions here so i can knock out as much as i can at once ^_^

i use lots of references! i used to use them by drawing over the silhouettes of poses i found on pinterest.

i don’t have any easy tricks or shortcuts to proportions unfortunately :’D i picked it up from observation just by doing this for so long.

it’s a fun way to learn, but can be restraining in terms of stiffness and also making u really dependent on seeing a reference before u can think of how to draw a certain pose.

now, i focus on what lines a body follows rather than the silhouette. i try to keep every section of the body to no more than 1-3 lines when first sketching.

doesn’t matter if the lines are accurate, just be bold w them!!!!!

this is a lot easier to me than breaking the body down into shapes, and it keeps everything more fluid.

it’s on these lines where i choose to exaggerate as well!!!

my fav exaggerations to do are flipping between curve/straight/curve/straight.

for example: on the left leg, i made the curve of the calf more pronounced while stiffening the straight line of the shin.

or on the skirt, i simplified the edges to single straight lines and the hem to one long curve :D

this comes back to my 1-3 lines habit, where i try to simplify everything as much as i can, but also it comes down simply to observation and practice…..which is unfortunately the worst answer ever but it’s true LOL my sketchbooks are packed right now, but i have many many pages of completely fucking up and drawing a leg one thousand times too long. the best thing to do is to draw quickly and boldly, even if it’s wrong 100 times, than to sit down and take forever trying to get it correct on the first try.

pen and marker sketching will force u to do this LOL. it helps to find pens and markers that are fun to use, especially for scribbling, bc then u will look forward to drawing more even if it turns out bad!!!

#SORRY THIS IS SOOO LONG I REALLY WANTED TO GET MY THOUGJTS OUT #nok talks #long post #art tut #qna

460 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 9 months ago

Text

The Better, Hidden Half

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (takes place in The Rookie 1x20-2x1)

Summary: Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.

Warnings: angst, fluffy comfort at the end, spoilers for episodes 1x20 and 2x1 (this is basically a rewrite, but still includes a brief reference to the suicide line from Tim). reader stress cleans?

A/N: The anxiety/stress cleaning bit is completely self-indulgent; sorry. I tried to manipulate Tim's conversations with Lucy to make them sound more platonic (I don't know if it worked though). I absolutely love this idea and had a ton of fun writing it!🤍

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Tim Bradford is a man of few words, and he keeps his life separated into two distinct areas: work life and personal life. He tried to bring the two together once, but hated the constant worry that someone from his work life would threaten to hurt people in his personal life or worse, act on their threats. For that reason, for his family’s safety, Tim keeps his life separated, and only a choice few have been chosen to be trusted with a glimpse of both sides of Tim. Angela, Wade, and on occasion, Bishop, see a side of Tim that doesn't exist when he's at work.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How is she?” Angela asks, sitting beside Tim for roll call.

Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I trained her, I’m sure she did fine. Better than your golden boy boot, anyway.”

Angela smiles and leans in to whisper, “Didn’t mean Chen.” She turns her attention to Jackson, calling, “80 might be the passing grade, boot, but if you don’t get at least a 90, you should turn in your badge on general principle.”

Tim leans forward to add, “Officer Chen, I will take it as a personal insult if you get anything less than a 93.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy answers. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all your new free time? Might I suggest a book club?”

Angela elbows Tim under the table, and he glances at her quickly, giving her a displeased stare which only makes her work harder to hide her smile.

“What are you talking about?” Tim asks.

“You know, after I pass, there won’t be any more daily evaluations to write.”

“Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly, I will continue to judge you every minute. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

As Grey enters, Lucy turns to Nolan, who whispers, “I can’t believe he’s single.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucy replies, rolling her eyes. “Evaluating a wife daily would cut into his ‘man of honor’ time.”

They silence as Wade directs the TOs to only take easy calls while the rookies finish their last shift before their exams. When Tim assures that he follows direct orders, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, knowing that Angela and Bishop are ready to tease him the moment he looks in their direction.

✯✯✯✯✯

7-Adam-19, silent hold-up alarm activated at Madame Megan’s psychic shop. 2417 Vine. Code 3.

Tim and Lucy enter the back room, taking control of the situation quickly, and he dials in once again to being a cop. Not a family man or anything of the sort. Just a police officer.

As Lucy walks out, and the (fake) psychic hits on Tim, he can only think of one thing. Excusing himself from the room, with a lack of grace that is unlike him, Tim lets his mind wander for just a moment. He thinks of a promise he made, a vow he took, and then his focus is back on his new case, a missing person discovered by a phony Hollywood psychic.

✯✯✯✯✯

Miles away, you are trying to focus on work, though you find it much harder than Tim to simply push your family and your personal life from your mind at a moment’s notice. Fiddling with your necklace, you refrain from grabbing your phone, wanting to text the only person on your mind. Oblivious to the dangers Tim is learning about from the CDC and Homeland Security, you sigh and clench your hands into fists before attempting to focus again.

Before you make any progress on starting the project awaiting your attention, your phone rings. Tim’s name appears on your screen, and you rush to answer, dread filling you. He never calls while he’s working, and you immediately expect the worst. Surely if it were something terrible, Angela or Wade would call you. If Tim is calling, that means he is okay, he is alive.

“Hello?” you ask, releasing a sigh when Tim says your name.

“Are you alone?” he adds, his voice strained.

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“I need you to stay where you are or go straight home. There’s a terror cell with a biological weapon; we’re doing everything we can to find them, but I need to know you’re safe.”

“Tim- yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I- I really can’t say anything else. Not about what we’re doing. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

“I will. Be careful, Tim. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Your phone beeps as the call ends, and your hand finds your necklace again, one finger slipping into Tim’s wedding ring. He leaves it with you each morning, taking it back with gentle touches and loving kisses when he returns each night. Today, all you can do is trust that he is good at his job and that he will protect you and the rest of LA, and then come back to you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim and Lucy approach one of the possible address in the search for newly discovered members of the terror cell.

“Man. And here I thought that test was gonna be the hardest part of my day,” Lucy muses.

“Best case scenario, it’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tim points out. His thoughts, however, are stuck on you, especially when Lucy asks what the worst case is.

“Took you long enough,” the man, Peter Langston, says as he opens the door. “Bag’s in here.”

“Sir, we’re here about the bus you took from Phoenix,” Tim explains.

“No kidding. I called you about the bag.”

“And what bag is that?”

“I thought it was mine on the bus. I picked it up by accident.” Tim follows Langston into a bedroom as he continues, “Noticed as soon as I got home. Called right away. Still took you guys like six hours to get here.”

“Uh, sir, we’re not here about a bag.”

“So, you don’t have mine? My computer’s in there… I went through this one for an address, and all I found was some weird science equipment.”

Tim glances back at Lucy, who calls for the task force at the mention of ‘weird science equipment.’

“Sir, did you touch anything in there?” Tim asks, pulling gloves on.

“Yeah, I cut my finger going through it looking for an address. Some kind of broken vial.”

Tim’s eyes widen and his breath catches as the man raises his bloodied finger, adding that it hasn’t stopped bleeding since it was cut. Hemorrhaging, Tim knows.

“Everything okay in there?” Lucy calls.

“Yeah. Just stay out there,” Tim demands.

The man coughs, and Tim flinches as blood lands on his neck and up onto his jaw. Looking down at the blood on the man’s shirt, Tim’s mind forgets the divide between work and personal life. He takes the initiative to lock Lucy out, slamming the door on her to keep her safe, but his true concern is you. If something happens to him, who will look out for you? Who will be your shoulder to cry on? In a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on him, Tim thinks like a husband, and he begins to regret keeping you, his wife, hidden for so long.

“Tim, no!” Lucy yells, but she steps forward too late.

Tim is on the other side of the door, a new division created as others are dissolved.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim finds baby wipes on a nearby changing table, wiping the blood from his skin as he lies to Langston, telling him it will be okay and distracting him with meaningless treatments to combat the “bad case of the flu the police were warned about this morning at roll call.”

Langston disappears into the bathroom in search of cold medicine, and Tim walks to the door to ask Lucy, “Everything all right out there, Chen?”

“Uh, yeah. The CDC’s on their way,” she responds. “Hey, you need to come out of there.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Got to keep this contained.”

“Tim-“

“It’s gonna be alright, boot.”

Tim knows that Lucy is concerned about him, and he is similarly concerned for her. He feels responsible for her safety as his rookie, but his thoughts toward her are completely and totally different from his fears concerning you, driven by love rather than mutual respect and duty.

“You keep your head in the game, okay?” Tim encourages Lucy. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

As Tim looks at the blood-covered wipe in his hand, he thinks of you, and how you’ll respond to the potential notification that he didn’t make it, taken from you by the very thing he tried to protect you from. He turns his attention back to the sick man feet away from him before his thoughts spiral. Tim needs you, so he needs to focus and survive.

✯✯✯✯✯

While the CDC is arriving at the house and quarantining Tim and the infected man, you are pacing in your shared bedroom. Memories of you and Tim exist in every inch of this house, and every moment that goes by without an update increases your worry. Walking into the closet, you find one of Tim’s recently worn shirts, changing into it before picking up the remote to distract yourself. With Tim’s pillow clutched to your chest, you try to laugh at the ridiculous sitcom on the screen, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Chen, you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Morgan asks, dressed in full hazmat gear as she enters.

“Yeah, uh, the bus passenger mistakenly grabbed the wrong bag, and the virus must have been in it because he coughed up blood on Tim,” Lucy explains.

“Did you get any blood on you?”

“Uh, no. I was out here. Tim immediately closed the door.”

“Smart man.”

Tim hears Dr. Morgan’s comment and clenches his jaw, knowing you would disagree entirely. At least in this case.

“Hey, doc,” Tim greets, standing against the door.

“How you doing?” Dr. Morgan inquires.

“Fine. But Mr. Langston’s struggling a little.”

“Can you describe his condition?”

“Yeah. He, uh, started coughing blood about 20 minutes ago. Now he’s got a pretty wicked nosebleed.”

“Why aren’t they coming in? Where’s my ambulance?” Langston asks.

“It’ll be here any minute. Just… stay put. Save your energy.”

Lucy interrupts to ask, “Where’s the vaccine?”

“Still in the air,” Dr. Morgan says. “Should land in the next hour or so.”

Scoffing, Lucy argues, “You can’t make Tim wait in there. He might not be infected.”

“Sorry. Quarantine rules exist for a reason.” Dr. Morgan turns to the door and asks Tim, “Officer Bradford, do you mind if I put you to work while you wait?”

“You want to know what’s in the bag?” Tim knows digging through the contents is dangerous, but waiting without doing anything won’t increase his chances of getting home to you.

“Yes, I do.”

“Copy that. Chen, I’m gonna turn on my body cam. You can monitor it from out there.”

“Okay. Please be careful,” she responds.

Tim hears your voice in his mind, telling him the same thing. He trusts himself to listen to you more than his rookie.

“All right. Here we go,” Tim says, using his baton to open the bag.

“Wait. Wait. What is that bottle?” Dr. Morgan wonders.

“Looks like the delivery device,” Tim guesses, raising it carefully from the bag. “It’s a misting fan.”

Dr. Morgan calls Homeland Security with the new information on how the terrorists are planning to spread the virus. As Tim continues searching the bag, failing to find identification or target information, Lucy sees Langston raising a chair in the mirror and yells for Tim just before he is knocked unconscious.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your house is as clean as it has ever been. Using your nervous energy and anxiety-fueled need to move, you clean each room in an attempt to keep your mind from worrying about Tim. You could call someone and ask for an update, but they probably can’t tell you anything. The only comfort you have is knowing that Angela and Wade would call you if you needed to know something. The silence is deafening, but it’s also a good sign.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim? Tim!” Lucy continues, growing concerned at the lack of reply.

Tim opens his eyes, moving backward quickly when he sees a puddle of blood running toward his face. He sees Langston standing across the room, mumbling about needing to get out as he tries to break the window. Tim tases him as he stands, and Lucy’s concerned yells continue. Covering his face with his shirt, Tim handcuffs Langston to the bed, shuffling backward as Lucy demands his answer.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” he replies, breathing heavily. “Well, that was fun.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim chuckles. “Kind of depends on your definition of the word.”

While Lucy tells Dr. Morgan to get the vaccine, and the LAPD sends patrol units out to find the other terrorist, Tim keeps his eyes on Langston, but his mind is on you. He should ask someone to tell you and find a way to let you know what is going on, but part of him knows that you are separate from this for a reason. You’re likely worried enough without knowing that Tim’s chance of being infected rises with each moment.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim watches Langston die, unable to do anything as he begs for help and convulses. Imagining himself in Langston’s place, Tim decides that he has to do something. He can’t go out like that, he won’t, but more importantly, he can’t leave you wondering. If Tim dies today, he is not dying without talking to you one last time, showing everyone around him that you are the best part of him.

He leans against the door in silence until Lucy says, “Hey, I, uh- I just checked with Dr. Morgan. The vaccine’s minutes away.”

“You know, you’re good at a lot of things – lying isn’t one of them,” Tim replies.

“You think I’m good at things? Can I get that in writing? … How are you doing? Are there any symptoms yet?"

"I’m sweating like a pig. But it’s probably because it’s 100 degrees in this room.”

Tim sighs just before Lucy assures, “It’s gonna be okay. I really believe that.”

“I’m sure you do. But if it isn’t-“

“Don’t think like that. It’s-“

“If it isn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’m not going out the way my man Pete here just did.”

“What are you saying?”

Tim sighs again, realizing what he said. He would never leave you like that; he’s a fighter. “I need you to do something for me, Chen.”

“Anything.”

“My- my wife is probably worrying herself sick right now. If this doesn’t end like you think it will, can you tell her that I fought to get home to her? Just- just keep an eye on her if anything happens. Wade and Angela, too.”

“Wife?” Lucy asks softly.

Tim smiles, glad to talk about something other than himself or the virus released in the room with him.

“Yeah. We eloped a while back; Grey, Lopez, and Bishop were there.”

“You’ve never mentioned her.”

“I keep her separated. She - everything in my personal life – would be at risk if there wasn’t a divide there.”

“I get that. What’s she like?”

Tim says your name, closing his eyes and picturing you as he tells Lucy how beautiful, kind, and loving you are. “She’s my better half. I don’t- can’t imagine not going home to her.”

“I promise, Tim. I’m confident you will go home to her, but… I promise.”

“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Please tell me that’s the vaccine,” Lucy says when Dr. Morgan returns.

“It is,” she answers quickly, walking toward the door quarantining Tim. “Stand back, Officer Chen. You’re not wearing protective gear.”

“Yeah.” Lucy steps back, hoping Tim is okay, and that he gets to go home to you.

“Officer Bradford, it’s time to let me in,” Dr. Morgan calls.

Tim opens the door, greeting Dr. Morgan before answering that he’s not feeling too bad. She tells him that she’s going to administer the vaccine. “It’s experimental, right?” Tim asks.

“That’s correct. So, we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe you grow horns. But for now, I’d say you might’ve dodged a bullet.”

Tim looks at Lucy to ask, “Can you get Lopez? Ask her to call for me?”

Lucy nods, pulling her radio out to contact Angela. She knows that Tim will need you, no matter how the vaccine works… or doesn’t.

“Lopez,” she says, sighing before saying, “Tim wants to know if you can call his wife.”

“Of course,” Angela answers. “She’ll be at his side, even if I have to go get her in the shop.”

Lucy smiles at Tim, and he sighs as Dr. Morgan administers the vaccine. There’s more hope surrounding Tim now, but the fight may not be over yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you see Angela’s name on your phone, you consider not answering. Biting your bottom lip to hold your tears in, you answer.

“He’s okay,” Angela begins.

You sigh in relief, a few tears breaking free anyway. “Thank you, Angela.”

“The vaccine is experimental, so they’re taking him to the CDC for observation; you can visit with the proper protective gear. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you in a few. And, just so you know, he didn’t call me.”

“Who did?”

“His rookie.”

Angela reminds you that she’s happy to pick you up if you want before ending the call. Tim mentioned me, you think. Then you wonder whether or not that’s a good thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, I heard you guys saved the day,” Lucy says, exiting Langston’s house to meet Nolan, Jackson, Lopez, and Bishop.

“It was a group effort,” Jackson corrects.

“Glad you’re okay,” Nolan expresses.

“Me too,” Lucy sighs. “I- I mean that you’re okay, too.”

“How’s Tim?” Angela asks.

“I think he’s gonna be all right. Now, 24-hour observation at the CDC.”

“I’ll bet my pension he just told doctors Tim Bradford does not ride in a wheelchair,” Angela jokes as Tim walks out.

“Only way I’m leavin’ out of here is on my own two feet,” Bishop imitates.

“Don’t you guys have paperwork to finish?” Tim retorts.

Tim looks at Lucy, nodding his thanks before continuing to walk toward the car waiting to transport him to the CDC. He stops suddenly in the yard, growing dizzy before he falls backward onto the grass.

“Officer Bradford!” Dr. Morgan yells.

Lucy, Angela, Bishop, and Jackson run toward him before the CDC holds them back. Someone calls for an ambulance, and Angela backs away to make a call.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What happened?” you ask, answering Angela’s second call.

“Meet us at Shaw instead of the CDC,” she says.

You can hear yelling in the background, and repeat, “What happened?”

Angela says your name, unyielding as she says, “Shaw. I’ll meet you there.”

You inhale deeply, turning toward Shaw. Knowing that you have no chance of beating an ambulance escorted by police cars, you grip the steering wheel, hoping that Los Angeles traffic has grace on you, and you make it to Tim’s side quickly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim better make it,” Jackson says.

“He will.” Angela knows that he’s a fighter, but she also knows that losing him will destroy you. He has to make it for himself, for the police department, and most importantly, for you.

In the ambulance ahead, Tim goes into anaphylactic shock. Lucy helps the paramedics and glances at Tim’s left hand. The line where his wedding ring sits is barely visible, but she whispers for him to keep his promise, to keep fighting.

Once the ambulance and the police cars enter into the hospital parking lot, Nolan notices a woman with a gun, alerting the officers surrounding the ambulance before the firefight starts.

Lucy covers Tim in the ambulance as the paramedics assist him as well as the injured medics. Nolan shoots the woman in the shoulder, but his gun jams as he moves closer to her.

Tim opens the ambulance door, downing the armed woman on a surge of adrenaline. Stepping onto the ambulance driveway, he asks Nolan if he’s okay.

“I should have reloaded on the move,” Nolan mutters. “You?”

“I should’ve taken yesterday off,” Tim answers.

“Alright, Officer Bradford, let’s go,” a nurse says, pushing a wheelchair to his side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Angela!” you call, jogging to her side.

“Don’t freak out,” she begins, but your eyes widen when you see the bullet holes covering, well, everything.

“Where is he?”

She nods, leading you around her shop. Tim is standing beside Nolan, arguing with a nurse.

“I can walk. Clearly, I’m fine,” Tim argues.

You don’t think about how many people are watching as you walk to Tim’s side. He turns toward you, his eyes softening when he sees you.

“Get in the wheelchair,” you demand.

Tim sighs but does as you say. Nolan and Jackson look at each other in shock, and Lucy smiles as she says, “His wife.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into Tim’s hospital room, he looks like he’s been waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“For what? Not listening to the nurse?”

Tim chuckles as he raises his left hand, pulling you to his side. “No. I’m sorry for not showing you off more, for never telling people about us. I worried you; I know I did, and you don’t deserve any of it.”

You lean forward, running your fingers across Tim’s jawline as you smile. “You don’t have to show me off. I know why you do it, Tim. Being a secret, being separated and safe, I get it. What I don’t like is not knowing if you’re okay.”

“I don’t want the separation anymore. You are my entire life, and- I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I’m not risking this again. The idea of not making it home, leaving you alone, with no one knowing you or how much you mean to me… that was terrible, and I’m sorry.”

Pursing your lips, you lean toward Tim and look into his eyes before scanning your eyes over his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Trying to figure out where the Tim I know went.”

Tim smiles, moving over in the bed and tugging you against his side. He taps your necklace before raising your hair away from your neck. You unclasp your necklace, sliding Tim’s wedding ring off the chain. Tim lays his left hand in your lap, and you put his ring on slowly before kissing his hand.

“I love you,” Tim says.

“I love you. And I accept your apology, even though I didn’t need it.”

“Ready to meet the rest of my-“

“Friends?” you fill in, smiling.

“Colleagues,” Tim finishes, shaking his head as his arm tightens around your waist.

“Thank you for making sure Angela called me.”

“How clean is the house?”

You laugh, pressing your face against Tim’s shoulder. He knows you well, and though you didn't know what was truly at stake over the last few hours, you did miss him.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” Wade greets, smiling as he leads a small crowd of officers into the room. “I have some rookies here who don’t believe someone would marry Tim.”

“I changed my mind,” Tim replies. “Get out.”

You elbow him gently, smiling as you stand. “It's much easier when he doesn’t tell people. No association to him.”

Tim laughs behind you, and after shaking hands and introducing yourself, you return to Tim’s side: where nothing can hurt you, everything is safe, and you’re the most important thing in the world.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader

2K notes · View notes

suzukiblu · 3 months ago

Text

"Lex Luthor's latest character flaw" poll winner, "deciding he wants grandbabies and giving Robin a cloning lab about it". Behold, a new WIP strikes!!

“What,” Tim says, staring blankly at the brightly-lit and airy sunroom full of very obvious cloning technology in the very expensive penthouse that Lex Luthor’s bodyguards just dragged a handcuffed Red Robin and Spoiler into after kidnapping them straight off patrol in the Diamond District in the middle of an active crisis situation with the League of Assassins and disabling all their tech and every single one of their trackers six and a half hours ago, down to the bastardized Kryptonian-tech ones in their back molars and two more in both of their suits that Tim didn’t even know existed, plus the one he put in Steph’s collar that she didn’t know existed. Babs is probably just about feral by now. Bruce is definitely feral by now.

And Lex Luthor is drinking what appears to be a neon purple protein shake out of a rocks glass while sitting at a neatly-arranged desk in the center of the sunroom lab, looking idly bored and scrolling through whatever’s on his phone with his free hand.

Alright then, Tim thinks carefully.

“There you are, I was starting to wonder if I’d gotten al Ghul riled up for nothing,” Luthor says, barely glancing up from his tablet.

“. . . which al Ghul,” Tim asks with wary dread.

“All of them,” Luthor says, setting down his tablet to give him a pleasant smile.

Well, now Tim knows why nobody’s dropped in a skylight to rescue them yet. And also why half of Gotham is currently on fire.

“Uh,” Steph says, glancing around the sunroom lab. “So like, lead-lined glass in here, then, or . . . ?”

“We’re in Connecticut, so no,” Luthor replies dismissively. “Anyway, the Boy Scout always gets suspicious of too much lead in one place. Which I personally find darling, since anyone in Metropolis without at least a lead-lined and soundproofed bedroom is essentially asking for Kryptonian voyeurs, whether intentionally or not on said Kryptonians’ parts. Also, privacy laws exist for a reason. As do patents, copyrights, attorney-client privilege, HIPAA . . .”

“Connecticut?” Steph repeats incredulously. “What the frick is in Connecticut?”

“Currently, us,” Luthor replies matter-of-factly. “Hope, Mercy, do me a favor and go check the security systems manually, just in case any invasive species of vermin have gotten into them. Also, yes, there is kryptonite, and no, there is actually much more than you’re theorizing.”

“You have literally no idea how much kryptonite we’re theorizing,” Steph says as the bodyguards both leave with an affirming nod. Luthor gives her a pitying look, then turns his chair a few degrees towards Tim. Tim immediately expects the inevitable threat or ultimatum, and braces himself for–

“I’d apologize for all the fuss, but I don’t actually care about inconveniencing you and don’t see the point in pretending I ever would,” Luthor informs him. Tim stares blankly at him again. What is even happening right now? “Now then, what are your intentions in regards to ‘Supernova’, as I hear someone’s started calling himself now. ‘Themself’? I’m not sure if ‘Supernova’ is meant to be gender-affirming or more a ‘too old to stick with ‘Superboy’ but there are already three ‘Supermen’ active and the whole, you know, general stubborn individualism they’re so fond of. Or ‘he’s’ so fond of. Whichever."

Tim stares at him.

“Is this supposed to be a trap for Supernova or a shovel talk for me?” he asks, because a) he’s not telling Lex Luthor anything about Kon’s gender or personal choices that Kon hasn’t publicly stated, and b) only Lex Luthor would actually kidnap two active vigilantes in the middle of a crisis he’d apparently pre-arranged to give a–well, no, Bruce would also do that, definitely. But this is not a Batman talk, either way.

Batman’s “talks” all involve tests, for one thing, so actually so far this is an improvement.

“It’s an engagement present,” Luthor says pleasantly.

Tim’s brain crashes, then does the slowest reboot of his life. He’s recovered from concussions faster, he’s pretty sure.

“They’re . . . not engaged, though?” Steph says skeptically. “Or, like, even dating?”

“Red Robin’s commitment issues are his own problem, not mine. I’ve got a schedule to keep,” Luthor replies dismissively.

#timkon #tim drake #lex luthor #stephanie brown #dc robin #dc spoiler #wip: tim's free cloning lab #long post

664 notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 4 months ago

Note

Sometimes I think about Dr. Riley sitting in his office, fidgeting with a pen staring out of the window, waiting for something... someone. There's a storm coming.

I still think about Dr Riley.

I think about him having a very inappropriate relationship with his patient, Clover. Clover who got her nickname because her special ops team thought she was sooo lucky… until she wasn’t. Until she made a mistake, miscalculated, and got two of her teammates killed. Clover, who had to look Captain Garrick in the eyes as he told her to take indefinite leave until she got her head on straight.

Clover can’t think or eat or sleep without hear the high pitch whine of a drone in her ear. Public places make her skin crawl. She can hardly function. Manages to feed herself and slink down to her building’s gym in the middle of the night, when no one else is there. She runs herself ragged, to the point of exhaustion, and only then can she manage sleep.

The train is late.

The tardiness makes everyone on the platform uneasy. They shift and grimace, fingers fidgeting, eyes roaming.

It’s grey down here. Grey up there, too. A city blanketed in rain, thick cottony fog obscuring streets and buildings, rolling through day, washing it into night without giving the sun it’s singular chance.

It’s grey everywhere. Grey in your bones, in your head. Grey cotton stuffed between your ears to stop the bleeding.

You try to let the anxieties of the delay drift past you, like a warm breeze, but it feels like a winter’s wind instead. Icy. Vicious. Cutting to the bone.

You’re a dog at the end of a chain. Ready. Waiting for the signal. Captain’s orders.

Relax. You’re at home. Waiting for the call. Going to finish therapy, so you can finally get out of here.

The yellow line of the boundary lays straight in front of you. You count the cracks in the concrete and wonder what would happen if you took a step off the edge.

Just one.

A single step.

Would these people try to save you? Would they scream and run? Would they watch you die, body exploded into bits by a train that couldn’t stop? How long would it take you ID you? Who would they call?

It’s not that you want to die. You’re more… curious about it now. Morbidly so. Wondering when it will happen, if death is following you around, waiting to collect his due.

You steady with a long breath, attention focused on the wall across the tracks, counting each tile. Your eyes are still sharp, as sharp as ever, and you focus in on each one individually, judging the distance, imagining a scope in your line of sight, smooth trigger under your finger.

There’s a collective sigh across the platform when the train squeaks to a halt, and you intentionally board last, watching the backs and profiles of everyone else. Back packs, long jackets, anxious faces are all catalogued and sorted, filtered and stacked into neat little piles.

You tug at a piece of skin around your nail, trying to tear it down to the cuticle. The delay has made you uneasy, nervous. Not at all like you used to be. Not at all like your old self.

This will be it this time, you coach, train car pulling away and rocketing into darkness. You’ll get it this time. It’s almost over.

“Hi, sorry I have an appointment at ten, with…” you check your calendar. “Dr. Riley? I know I’m late…” the woman at the desk smiles. It’s clinical, just like every other time. You don’t think she likes you much, you’re not like her. Not like any of them.

“That’s alright, it’s just this way.” She leads you through a maze of hallways, coming to a stop at one dark, wooden door. “Dr. Riley? Your ten o’clock is here.”

It opens to the biggest man you’ve ever seen, clad in jeans and a black hoodie. Is this… is this the shrink?

He says your name. When you don’t answer, he says it again, a little louder. His Manchester accent is full of grit, a mouth full of rocks, but there’s something warm in it too, something spinning you in a soft cocoon of yarn.

“H-hi.” He extends his hand, a massive palm, dwarfing yours.

“I’m Dr. Riley, come in. Thanks, Laura.” He bids the receptionist goodbye, and clicks the door shut behind her, turning with a motion to the couch. “Take a seat. I was just about to call you.”

“I’m sorry, the train was delayed and-“ He holds up his hand, a motion to stop.

“You made it, that’s what matters.” Your hands shake, and you clutch them in your lap. It’s a side effect, they tell you. It’s supposed to go away, but you’ve stopped counting the days.

He’s not what you expected. Your last doctor in this building was an old man who wore a dress shirt and slacks. Dr. Riley looks like he’s in his forties. He’s built out like a solider, broad shoulders and broad chest filling out his casual clothes, glasses reflecting his focused gaze. There are scars on his face, faded white streaks on his upper lip, cheek and jaw. His nose has been broken and repaired, and there’s a patch of his eyebrow missing, like it’s been burned away. He’s part shadow, part marble, full lips, sandy brown hair, chiseled jaw, ocean eyes.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?” He begins, glancing at the laptop screen.

“I need to pass my psych eval, sir.” You focus on the question, and not the lone drone rattle rolling through your skull.

“There’s no rank in this office.” Oh, duh. “Why do you need to pass an eval?”

“I’m ready to return to my job. Just need to pass this last step.” Sir. You bite the honorific off just in time.

“If you can’t pass a psych eval, I’d say the conclusion is you’re not ready.” Your spine straightens at the authority in his voice. “And you’re not here for an eval.” Wait, what?

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re not here for an evaluation, you’re here for therapy.”

“N-no, sir- ah, Dr. Riley,” his lips tilt, a fraction, and your knees press together involuntarily. “I’ve already had therapy.” He ignores your protest.

“You’ve failed three evaluations in the last two months. You can’t just keep throwing it all the wall, hoping it will stick. You need care.” The room pitches, and you’re trapped on a tilt-a-whirl, locked into a too loud, too bright carnival ride, sirens and screams screeching in the distance.

He says your name again.

“Sorry.” The tablet folds into a laptop, balanced on a broad knee.

“Tell me about them.”

“About…”

“The psych evals. Failing three in such a short time window is a feat.” You blanche. You hate that word, fail. It stings. It’s an affront to you, you who doesn’t fail. You who was the top of her class, first selected, first pick. Your captain depends on you, your team counts on you, to not fail. At anything. Ever.

“I… I struggled with them.” There are photos on the wall, framed medals and degrees. A picture of a German shepherd, and a hanging house plant of some kind, spritely and green, leaves and vines twisting from its perch.

“Let’s start today talking about why you’re struggling with them, then.”

“I don’t know why. If I did, I wouldn’t be here.” You’re peevish, and he raises an eyebrow. “Sorry, I’m just… stressed. My team-“

“is operating in the field without you.”

“Yes.”

“And it’s causing you stress.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why?” What is this?

“Why is it causing you stress? Do you not trust them to operate successfully without you?”

“No… I do.”

“What about your captain? Do you not trust him to lead them?”

“Of course I do.” Your fingers tighten on the chair. “I do. But they’re down a man, and they can’t be down for too long.”

“I’m sure your team cares more about you getting the care need, over rushing back into engagement too soon.”

“I know, but I’m ready.”

“You’re not. And I know your captain, Garrick? He wouldn’t want you to jeopardize your wellbeing.” How does he know cap?

“You know captain Garrick?” Dr. Riley smiles.

“I do. And like I said, he wouldn’t want you passed through if you weren’t ready.” He’s got you pinned, metaphorically. Back against the mat, shoulders immobilized. You can’t crawl your way free, can’t fight or twist out of his grip. “Do you want to talk about why you’re on leave?”

“No! No, I… don’t need to.” You complain. “I’ve had eight counseling sessions in the last two months.”

“They’ve clearly helped.” He drawls, glancing at you over the laptop. The eye contact rakes a shiver down your spine, and you find your feet.

“I don’t want to talk about it again, sir.” You whisper it to the ground, silently begging he won’t make you.

“There’s no rank here.” He reminds, voice soft and understanding. “But I’m your clinician now, and I won’t sign off on you taking another psychological evaluation until I’m confident you’re healthy enough to return to work.”

“Can I ask…” you taper off, but he nods to encourage you. “Can I ask why I’ve suddenly been switched to a new doctor?”

“You failed an eval three times. The practice decided you needed a different approach to care.” There’s a pause, and the laptop shuts. His hands settle across his thighs. “Let’s talk about what they call you.”

“Sir?” His lips press together but deigns to remind you a third time about rank.

“Clover.” Oh.

“Yeah, that’s what my team calls me. Only my mum uses my real name anymore.” You joke, and he smiles in a small way, gaze unreadable, bearing down onto you from above.

“Is there meaning behind it?”

“I used to be considered good luck.”

“Used to be?” You blink. Used to be. Like you used to be someone else.

“I guess… my luck ran out.” He nods thoughtfully.

“Why do you think that?” Because you fucked up? You got your friends killed? Because you got into a jam you couldn’t get out of? Because you were tortured into an unrecognizable piece of human pulp?

“I… I don’t know.”

“You do.” He states matter of fact, leveling you easily. You gape.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You mutter, looking towards your knees.

“How about mirrors?”

“What?”

“How do you feel about mirrors?” The question sets you aback. It’s never been asked, not in your previous sessions, not by anyone. No one knows about the mirrors in your flat, covered by shirts and sheets and dish towels. Turned away, forced into corners. The bathroom vanity obscured by a long white bedsheet; your reflection hidden at every turn.

“I… I don’t like them.” The honesty on your tongue tastes good, but it burns.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I don’t like to look at myself, now.” The laptop reopens, and he types in silence for a long moment. The quiet settles around the two of you, ticking of a second hand clicking away in your ear.

“I’m going to give you some homework.” Homework?

“What kind of homework?”

“I want you to look in a mirror.” You draw a sharp breath. “When you’re at home, and you’re alone, I want you to really look at yourself, see yourself, for as long as you can. If it’s only a few seconds, it’s only a few seconds. There’s no time requirement. The only thing you have to do… is look.”

“Dr. Riley…” you laugh nervously, and he meets your eyes with a serious expression.

“Only for a few seconds. Can you do that?” No.

“I can… I can try.” You can do whatever he wants, if it will get him to pass you on the eval. If it will get you out of here.

“Good.” The watch on his wrist glints in the afternoon sun. “I’ll give you my number. Text me when your homework is done.”

“Okay.” That’s it? He stands, and you look away, unable to focus on anything but the edge of the table, brown wood slatted together and worn with age.

“You can run away now.” He murmurs, standing between you and the door. “This was good, Clover. I know it’s not easy. You did well today.” Words catch in your throat, caustic and rough. Still, you try to get them out.

“T-thanks.”

You try to do your homework that night.

You stand in front of the bathroom mirror in your pajamas, one hand on a hem, waiting to pull free and reveal your reflection.

You can do this. You can. Just do it.

The tug never comes.

You stare at the white sheet until your eyes start to cross.

Better luck tomorrow.

You hold steady in your routines. Eating. Walking. Stretching. Strength. You do yoga in the evenings, weights in the mornings. You spend too much time in your building’s gym, mindlessly pounding out miles on the treadmill, headphones blaring at full volume. You do it all robotically.

You’re outside of your body. Out of your mind.

But you could still pull a trigger.

Sometimes, when you can stand it, you take your walks outside, bypassing those who linger on sidewalks, cutting through parks and alleys. Fresh air and sunlight are supposed to help, but you don’t think it does any good. The rot is still there, curled up in your bones, blackened and sticky, festering like an infection. It’s a monster inside your body, a monster you now share your life with, cutting away pieces, long after being freed from the cell.

You eat. You walk. You try to look in the mirror.

With three days before your next session with Dr. Riley, you still haven’t managed to complete your homework. You try, in the hall, in your bedroom, again and again in the bathroom, but it never happens, you can’t quite get yourself to cross the bridge.

Failure.

Dr. Riley is waiting for you in the lobby on the day of your next appointment.

“Hi Clover.” He smiles, and it’s genuine, warm, almost wrapping around your shoulders.

“Hi, Dr. Riley.”

“How was your week?” You lag him, letting him guide you to the office, where the yellow lights are dim and darkened, casting shadow across the brown couch where you take your seat.

“It was fine.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing, really. I’ve been at the gym a lot, trying to keep myself in shape for when I go back.”

“Exercise is good as long as you’re not overdoing it. Do you do anything else?”

“Um, I take walks outside.” His leg shifts, ankle on knee, and then his hand folds over his thigh. Something akin to interest brightens in your heart but is desperately snuffed out. He’s your therapist. “I walk in the park a lot.”

“Oh yeah? Which?”

“The one off of eighth.”

“I walk there too, nice park. Lots of trails.” You try to imagine him in joggers, taking a stroll. “I’m going to guess; you didn’t do your homework?” Heat unfurls across your face.

“I tried, but…”

“That’s okay. I thought we could try today, if you feel up to it.” Here? Now? Your eyes go wide. You look around.

“I don’t see a mirror.”

“There’s one on wheels down the hall, the occupational therapists use it all the time. Can I bring it in?” Your stomach twists up, nausea tossing your lunch from side to side.

“I uh… I don’t know.”

“You can do it. I know you can.” You hedge, unsure. Can you? Will you?

You can try.

“Okay.”

“Alright, close your eyes. I’ll be right back.” The door opens and shuts, and then opens again, wheels rolling close. You clench your eyes closed so tight it nearly hurts.

Warm fingers grab yours.

“It’s over here.” He murmurs, leading your blind steps away from the couch, coming to a stop… somewhere. “Whenever you’re ready.” You can’t feel him anymore, but you know he’s there, at your back. There’s a faint ruffle of air through your hair, against your neck. “Take a deep breath.”

You focus on the pace of your lungs, the expansion, the give and take of your ribcage.

“I can’t.” You whisper. You’re floating in space, unable to pull the trigger.

A kind hand on your shoulder brings you back.

“You can do it. Try.” The encouragement, the belief is a vine in your heart. Alive and green, it sows roots as deep as it can manage, clinging to fibrous flesh and hollowing you out. It catches on valves and ventricles, spiraling forward in a complicated web like an anchor.

You see him first, in the mirror. Stare straight back at him, falling into his gaze, vibrating in his hold like a child’s wind-up toy.

“Not me. You.” He says gently, and when you can, you bear it.

You almost gasp. It’s been two months since you’ve seen your own face, your complexion, your nose and your eyes and your chin. You’re long healed, bones set perfectly, everything right as rain. You look normal. You look fine. It’s the most shocking thing, to see yourself looking healthy, pieced back together, nearly whole. Your lower lip trembles with effort to hold yourself at bay, to keep yourself from breaking apart, drifting back towards the moon.

“That’s it. Great job, Clover.” His hand still rests on your shoulder, but you shake with a violence now, a torrent of emotion, threatening to cut you off at the knees. “It’s okay.” He whispers.

When you can’t stand it any longer, you close your eyes.

“How did you know?” You’re resettled on the couch, hands tucked under your thighs.

“Know what?”

“That I hadn’t looked in a mirror… since…”

“I know a thing or two, about coming back different. I know how it feels when you don’t want to see yourself.” You glance at the medals on the wall, primly tacked to a plush pillow, encased in glass, and wonder.

“Did you work with captain Garrick?”

“We were in a task force together, before I retired early to do this.” He smiles, easy and light, but there’s something guarded in it, something sharp, shark’s teeth aiming for docile flesh. It purrs, and makes you want to pull back more layers. Gives you something else to focus on, something else to fall into, but it’s gone before you can really study him.

“Oh.” It’s all you can say as he types something on the laptop, and then puts it away.

“That’s all for today. I’ll see you next week then?”

#peaches writes #Dr Riley

668 notes · View notes

sunsguilt · 1 year ago

Text

SMASH OR PASS WITHOUT THE SMASH !┊ft: all nrc characters!

warnings: none! contains: gn reader

notes: this is essentially a dateability ranking in terms of pure survival and living your best life. i love all the characters dearly, and this is just for fun!

HEARTSLABYUL

riddle rosehearts: don’t get me started on him. hypothetically, let’s say he has a single romantical bone in his body. he would probably (definitely) want to date someone his mother would approve of, so someone who’s super studious and thinking about becoming a lawyer type of thing. even then, his mother would be the overbearing MIL stereotype, and riddle would just bend to her every whim, so it wouldn’t work. would probably divorce you if his mom said to.

overall rating: 2/10, could be a nice cushy life if he took his penchant for memorizing rules into a lawyer profession and became a rich husband, but still the MIL…. you would end up on r/relationshipadvice within weeks, i’m afraid.

ace trappola: he’s like a frat boy to me, honestly. I think you could be friends with him within reason, but if you actually date him… he’s the kind of guy who would pursue you and then get bored once u start dating. whoops, he had a consensual workplace relationship. he canonically ghosted his ex, guys.

overall rating: 3/10, you would be dating a frat boy. you don’t want that for yourself, trust me, speaking from second-hand experience here.

deuce spade: deuce is actually normal. like he’s no rich boy, but his family is respectful and his mother would adore you if he brought you home. he’s a little slow, but he’s got the spirit, y’know?

overall rating: 6/10, very nice in-laws, very cool husband. you may end up being the primary breadwinner.

cater diamond: with cater, it’s probably a bromance that turns into a real romance. mostly because he didn’t want to confess and ruin the whole thing you had going on together. likely a guy who needs a lot of validation from his partner. like he’ll say he hates pickles if you don’t like pickles. will not let a pickle pass his lips. will try his very hardest to convince you to do silly couple challenges.

overall rating: 8/10, he’s sooooo cute but he’s got unresolved mental instability like you wouldn’t believe. personally, i love that in a man. call me fix-it felix.

trey clover: trey is. trey. average guy whose family runs a bakery. he’s cute though!

overall rating: 5/10, he’s probably a freak in terms of intimate relations! teehee! no further comment.

SAVANACLAW

leona kingscholar: leona is a nice guy, respectful etc. but after a while, he’s not putting the same energy into the relationship as you are. the added layer of dating a literal prince…. no matter how disregarded he is by his family, he is second in line for the throne. the pressure from that sounds crazy, i won’t lie. you might be able to ignore the pressure of him bringing you home to straight up royalty ! overall rating: 5/10, he’s so dreamy and gorjus but he wears uncle sandals. jack howl: oh he’s so bf material, like you don’t understand. him being really firm on the fact that beastmen choose a life partner? wanting to fall in love and be committed to someone until his dying day? this is Romance. he's probs a good guy to bring to the gym for support if you’re just starting to work out regularly! might accidentally push you past your limits bc he’s thinking beastmen standards and not human. overall rating: 7/10, he’s so cute and i love him, but he’s a gym bro and does daily early morning jogs and such. cannot accept it. ruggie bucchi: he’s actually another really normal guy to date! he’s shown to do anything to provide for his loved ones (bringing food home from school to provide for his friends and family). very much an acts of service guy!

overall rating: 4/10, the chances are high that he’ll do that thing that broke dudes do when they get all touchy and hug their partner when the partner pulls out their card to pay for something.

OCTAVINELLE

azul ashengrotto: he would be nice to you ONLY if he had something to gain. would actually play the long game in order to sweet-talk you into signing some contract that totally screws you over forever. he is a capitalist at heart, i fear. he’s gonna get you in some get-rich-quick scheme. also, he can’t kiss and it would be weird and a lot more drool than necessary. overall rating: 6/10, i love octopus.

jade leech: oh god. he’s like visually appealing but the longer he's talking, the worse it gets. his hobby would literally be getting your heart rate up. you’d be lucky if you don’t get high blood pressure from his desire to see your face twist in an ugly expression. he has a penchant for learning, so he’ll want to research the topic of his interest to the fullest to get the desired results. overall rating: 3/10, the moment he’s tired of you, he’ll never speak to you again outside of a professional setting. floyd leech: he wants to have fun every day he can. which is fine, nothing wrong with that. the problem lies when he wants to rope you into it. and his idea of fun is….. questionable. he would call you up in the middle of the night and ask if you wanna go for a joyride that takes you over state lines. and you would only get like three minutes notice. he would also invite himself into your dorm and sleep in your bed. no, he’s not making the bed either, the guy canonically has to be forced into ironing his own shirt. overall rating: 3/10, he looks like he bites unironically. would you get rabies if a humanized eel bit you?

SCARABIA

kalim al-asim: oh he’s so sweet, but the only problem is literally the fact that he’s rich. he frequently talks about multiple attempts on his life in his youth up until the present day. if people outside of your circle found out you were with him, word would surely spread to unwanted ears, and your life would be at risk because of that immediate association. overall rating: 6/10, a total sweetheart, but i don’t think i’d be able to eat breakfast with him without wondering if something’s in our food. jamil viper: he has too many underlying issues that include but are not limited to: an inferiority complex that exists due to his forced proximity to kalim. as much as i’d love to say i could fix him, jamil almost killed kalim. Plus, jamil is literally kalim’s servant. association with kalim = will probably die. overall rating: 5/10, he’s got issues, but he’s so cute and probably just needs that reassurance or whatever. my silly guy!

POMEFIORE

vil schoenheit: vil is like my fav so i’d love to say that because he’s so nice and rich and pretty that he would be a perfect ten. WRONG. he’s famous. bad! what if he has crazy stans who go after you bc you’re dating him? for your own safety, you would never be able to go public with your relationship, that is if the tabloids don't get to you. overall rating: 7/10, you’ll have to listen to him go on tangents about neige.

rook hunt: if you’re thinking “yeah no he’s probably a safe bet, he’s rich and i could be his trophy wife/husband”, you like french people and you’re lying to yourself !!!!! ive never met a normal rich person in my life, and rook is no exception. he would know your shoe size before you even know his last name.

overall rating: 0/10, he’s weird AND french.

epel felmier: he lives in a small town where everyone tends to know each other and their business. there’s no hiding your relationship from them. downside is, he would have a crazy inferior complex if you were taller than him. He needs to be a Man’s man, yknow??? overall rating: 6/10, he’s a good cook, an incredible one, even. if you can’t cook and you can deal with a man who desperately wants to show you how cool he is, then this is the one for you.

IGNIHYDE

idia shroud: he wouldn’t date, like he’s a NEET guys, i don’t see it at all. He would marry someone if it was for tax reasons, or just to tell people he isn’t bitchless. you'd just go to a courthouse real quick and pop by an ihop after.

overall rating: 6/10, he would be an incredible overwatch carry. would bully you for sucking super hard in any type of pvp game.

ortho shroud: he’s like a child, so he is not included!

overall rating: 0/10, in terms of dateability, he’s silly tho

DIASOMNIA

malleus draconia: you would be perfectly safe with him. yeah, he’s not fully clear on the norms of human society, but he treats you well! problem is, he'd be a little too obssessed and its going to very quickly turn into "he's going to keep u in this tower bc hes scared abt u dying"

overall rating: 7/10, wouldn’t you love a loser man who is obsessed with gargoyles?! silver: objectively, the world’s most perfect man. he’s super cute and can cook! everything you would want in a man. he's also got his wacky little sitcom type family like step brothers who are Not human and a dad who is Not human but like they care for him he cares for them!

overall rating: 9/10, no real drama and they'd probably be elated if he brought someone home. sebek zigvolt: he would choose malleus over you every time, i’m so sorry. like “sorry babe malleus needs help shining his sword or whatever, you can start the movie without me.” realistically the only time sebek could be in a relationship is if he finds someone whos as obsessed with malleus as he is so they can be hyperfixated on him together or something. like how kpop stans marry each other, but with malleus the dragon prince.

overall rating: 2/10, he would use you has a human dishrag to clean shoes for malleus. lilia vanrouge: everyone loves a fictional old man, but this particular old man comes with trauma and emotional baggage spanning centuries. You can only fix-it felix your way out of so many things. he’s cute, though.

overall rating: 4/10, canonically picks his nose, i fear.

— ☆

2K notes · View notes

melrodrigo · 1 year ago

Text

my hair

Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader

Summary: Wednesday lets you braid her hair.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: I don’t think I used any pronouns, so it’s gender neutral really (at least i think so, i can’t rmb) inspired by none other than Ariana Grande’s ‘my hair’. happy halloween 🎃!

“Wednesday.”

The name tumbles out of your lips as easy as the flow of water on a steep channel, and you wonder how a simple word like a day of the week has turned into such a gratifying one.

“Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday.” You mumble mindlessly, combing your fingers through her jet black hair.

She makes a tiny huff of annoyance as she stirs in your arms.

She knows you have a thing for words, whether it be big love confessions or simply saying her name throughout the day, which is a thing she’s been trying to get better at, for you. It’s hard, but she’s morphed into the phase of getting used to your soft words and whispered endearments. She bites back the tiny part of her that wants to ignore them, instead letting them seep into and have their way with her.

You ruffle her hair fondly, but not too hard, well aware of how sensitive your girlfriend is about her hair.

It’s something you’ve come to learn about Wednesday, through your many years together.

She does not like her hair to be touched. She also famously doesn’t let anyone else but you touch it.

Admittedly, it only makes you want to touch her hair more.

You nudge her slightly, murmuring in her ear that you guys have to get up for class.

“Ms. Thornhill is going to be so pissed when she finds out I spent the night again.” You say mindlessly, feeling Wednesday tighten on top of you.

She’s still only a second before she’s sitting up straight, rigid, a classic Addams family stance.

“You did sneak in, didn’t you?” She asks.

You roll your eyes, nudging at her to loosen up a little.

“Yes, Wednesday. I attempted to sneak in. She, however, was waiting right outside your dorm room.” You recount, from just the night before.

She turns to you, eyes squinted.

The sight of you makes her heart do a little dance she wasn’t aware it could do. She’ll never understand it, the way you make her dull black heart race. It beats to the melody of her favorite symphony, fast paced and rapid.

Your hair’s a little ruffled, cheeks a little red, while you sit at the head of her bed in your best matching pjs.

She ponders about your words just a moment before she’s speaking again.

“Good. She should know that you’ll be sleeping in here for the rest of the year.” She says, finally.

You grin, childlike.

She purses her lips and makes the decision before she regrets it.

“Do my hair?” She asks, almost more of a command than a question.

You have to keep yourself from practically jumping off her bed in excitement. She’s never asked that before. You try to act nonchalant as you think about it.

Wednesday knows you better though, and she can already tell by the sparkle in your eyes that you’ll say yes.

You could never say no to your girl, after all.

You nod eagerly, following Wednesday out the bed and over to her desk like a love sick puppy.

“Enid better not come in and see this.” Wednesday grumbles, reaching over to grab her hairbrush, one as black as obsidian.

“It would be better than when she came in last night while we were-“ Wednesday squeezes your wrist tight, a sign to shut up, and so you do.

She takes a few rubber bands out her beloved spider shaped box, one you’d given her as an anniversary gift, and places them in a single file line.

You gulp as you realize what you’ve signed up for.

She turns to look at you expectedly, speaking with her eyes.

“Okay..braids.” You whisper underneath your breath, trying to remember how to braid hair.

To her credit, Wednesday doesn’t say anything the whole while you do her hair. Not a complaint about the way it looks, or how you’ve done it.

But you aren’t that dumb. You see through your girlfriends expression in seconds. And you’re self aware, you know you haven’t done the greatest job.

It’s not horrible, by any means. But it’s just not the Wednesday Addams picture perfect braids.

One side is noticeably looser than the other, and it looks more like a loop than a braid.

“Are you finished?” Wednesday inquires, about to get out her seat.

You push her shoulders down softly, and tell her you have a special surprise.

You pull out a set of dark blue bows, tiny compared to her long locks of hair.

“Absolutely not.” She says the minute you show them to her, shaking her head to affirm her statement.

You pout, giving Wednesday your best puppy dog eyes, but her face remains impassive.

“Just one?” You plead, playing with the tips of her braids.

Wednesday lets out a soft sigh and begrudgingly tilts her head so you can put on the bow easier.

“Love you so much.” You whisper, pressing your hand to her cheek lovingly.

You better, she thinks.

“Now, I believe we need to attend class in five minutes. You’ve already made me soft. Don’t make me unpunctual too.” She says, the edge coming back to her voice.

“Wait, are you actually gonna go out like that?” You ask, a little shocked.

“Going to, y/n. There is no such word as ‘gonna’.” She says, and turns on her heel out the door, sure you’ll be hurrying after her in minutes.

Everyone stares at Wednesday as you both enter the class. You’re not late, but everyone’s there already. They size up your girlfriend, questioning gaze apparent as they take in her hair.

“Um..Wednesday?“ Enid sounds from the back of the class, “Why does your hair look like that? And are you wearing a bow?”

You flush pink in embarrassment. Was it really that bad?

One look at you and Wednesday decides she has to once again come to your aid when she clears her throat, directing all attention back to her.

“My hair is normal. And I quite like the bow.” She says, in a tone of voice that indicates that that’s the end of the story.

Wednesday keeps her hair like that the rest of the day. Not once does she touch it, or take it out, even with random inquires coming from all the students at Nevermore.

That evening, you catch her grumbling before you enter her room for your nightly kiss on the cheek, words muffled by the door.

“Love has made me so feeble.” She mumbles dejectedly.

You push open the door, pretending you didn’t hear what you just did, and give her just a slightly longer kiss than you normally would, happy as a clam.

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #mine #fanfic #soft wednesday

1K notes · View notes

sukiipjs · 9 months ago

Text

❧ ONLY YOU

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

↳ chris sturniolo x fem reader

↳ words - 1629

↳ summary - chris sees you with another guy at a party, he has to remind you that your his. only his. (this is freaky)

↳ contains - friends with benifits, smut, lowkey toxic 💀, rough sex, oral, gagging, hair pulling, swearing, spanking, mascohism, drinking, praise, degrading, pet names (baby), idk

↳ song - lights down low by maejor

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

me and chris have a.. complicated relationship. he’s really hot, like really, but honestly he’s such an asshole. everything he does drives me up a fucking wall. all we do is fuck, have been for a while and its great but nothing more, and even though we are nothing more, everytime he sees me with another guy or thinks i’m with another guy, he gets pissed. but when he’s with another girl who cares? that hypocrite. every time i call him out he rolls his eyes and uses his famous line, ‘they don’t fuck me as good as you baby’

anyways. i’m getting ready for this party, i’ve been trying to ignore and forget chris, so why not go to some dumb partys? i get on a tight mini dress, it’s black and silky with thin straps, deep v neck and a cute bow on the back to match my new nails i got a few days ago, black french tips with some rhinestones. black eyeshadow and mascara, some of my favorite lipgloss, smells like strawberry and has glitter in it, almost half out of it already. i leave my hair down and i put on my black heels and finally i grab my small black purse with my lipgloss, my phone, and a condom that will hopefully be used!

i make my way to the party and when i walk into it, i already regret it. i go straight to where all the drinks are and pour some. i lean on the counter staying by the table of drinks and trying not to look too bored.

i look around seeing if anyone i know is here so i can actually talk to someone. as im looking and drinking some random dude comes up beside me, leaning on the counter next to me with a drink in his hand too. “hey” he nudges my shoulder a little, “uh hey?” he continues to talk to me and annoying me, eventually he says i’m ‘boring’ and goes to some other girl.

over time a maybe two other guys come up to me, annoying but one i’m still talking with, he’s actually kinda interesting, and cute. we talk a lot and laugh but then i feel two arms wrap around my waist, making me almost spill my drink. “the fuck?” i turn my head to see who and it’s chris, i see his eyes stare at the guy i’m talking to as he holds me. i roll my eyes as he speaks to the guy, what is wrong with him. “yeah i’m her boyfriend, so.” wait… im his WHAT? the guy looks a little uncomfortable then looks at me before walking off.

i back off from his arms and face toward him, “what the fuck is wrong with you? ‘i’m her boyfriend’ since when?” he laughs a little then takes a sip of his drink, “okay maybe i’m not but i don’t want him talking to you,” i roll my eyes and scoff, “why? every single time you see me with a guy, you make him leave but when your with a girl it’s all fine? we’re fucking! that’s all, so just shut up. i haven’t called you in a while for a reason,”

i see his eyes narrow as he sets his drink down and grabs my arm, “shut up and come with me,” i try to move my arm away from his grip but he pulls me toward some room, i set down my drink as we walk.

he pulls me into a bathroom and shuts the door, pushing me against the door after, “the fuck is wrong with you,” he holds me onto the door, staring at my eyes, “me? the fuck is wrong with you. you’re such an asshole!” one of his hands go to the back of my head, he pulls my hair making my head lean up to look at him better. he moves his head closer to mine, lips inches apart.

“i don’t remember you saying that shit when i was fucking you all those time, when you begged me to come over? yeah? begging me to keep going, fucking slut.” he spits back, “god chris. fuck off!” i try to put my arms on his chest to push him away, “just leave me alone.” i hear him laugh a little as he pushes down on my head, trying to get me on my knees. “just get on those knees and be fucking good? yeah?”

he manages to get me down, me kneeling in front of him as he still grips on my hair and the other to his pants as he pulls down his pants and boxers, my hands trying to push him away on his thighs, “all you do is talk, talk, talk, maybe you should put that mouth to good use,”

his dick springs out and hits my face as he pulls my head closer and the other hand holding his dick, guiding it on my lips as i seal them shut, or trying to. “cmon baby, open up,”

he pushes his dick more and more onto my lips, and finally i open my mouth and he pushes it inside, the tip hitting the back of my throat. “oh fuck baby,” he put his other hand on my head, both holding me down, pushing his dick all the way in. my hands on his legs trying to push away as i start gagging, spit dripping out of my mouth.

he bucks his hips into me more as i try to push myself away but i just hit my head on the door. tears start forming in my eyes as i try to catch my breath, but can’t with my mouth full. he finally pulls out my mouth, stroking his dick and finishing over my face as i close my eyes, panting. “aww, so pretty” he laughs as he kneels down a little, giving my cheek small pats then he grabs my jaw, making my head turn to him. “get up baby, you got this,”

i slowly get myself standing, still panting as he moves me to the counter of the sink and takes off my dress, a huge mirror on the wall. he’s behind me as he grabs my hair, pulling my head up, “look at yourself,” he smacks my ass with his other hand, i jump a little, opening my eyes as i see myself, “look at that slut,” my mascara and tears run down my cheeks, my hair frizzy and messed up, and his come across my face. i lift up my arm to wipe off some of the mess as he laughs, “mm, aren’t you so pretty?”

his hand moves to the front of me, reaching for my clit as he starts to circle it with his finger, my arms on the counter as my head drops and i start to whimper, “fuck! chris…” he moves faster as his length pokes against me. his mouth moving to my neck as he starts kissing and marking my neck.

he lifts his head to my ear as he whispers, “cmon, you’re mine right? only mine?” i try to nod my head as i moan, his breath on my neck. “no, say it. i need to hear it baby,” he moves my hair out of the way of my neck, to the other side, “i’m.. fuck.. i’m yours chris. only yours. only you, please..”

i feel his smirk grow on my neck as he goes back to kissing me, “good girl” my knees buckle as i start to feel even weaker, about to finish but suddenly he stops and i go back to panting and catching my breath as my moans stop.

“chris-“ he cuts me off, “oh don’t worry baby,” he quickly pushes his dick inside me, making my breath cut off, “fuck!” he pulls on my waist, making my elbows lay on the counter and making my back arch even more than it was.

one hand on my waist, guiding his deep thrusts and one on my head, pulling my hair again, making my head lean up, “watch me fuck you before i stop.” i force my eyes to open as i see him behind me thrusting, i mindlessly moan and whine as he fucks me good, forcing my eyes to not close, and staring at the mirror.

“chrisssss…” i moan as i start getting close again, his thrusts become deeper and faster, knowing that i’m close. “cmon baby, let it go” i can’t help but drop my head again, shutting my eyes as i finish over his dick. he keeps thrusting until he comes too, “oh fuck.”

he pulls out and gives me another smack on my ass, “such a good girl baby,” he speaks as he’s talking to a dog. i stand a bit straighter, my legs weak and shaking as i pant more and more, my eyes closing to rest. his hands come up to my shoulders, giving me a small massage.

“your mine right?” i nod as i try to open my mouth to speak but it takes a minute, “y-yes.. only you chris,” i pant. he takes his hand off me and starts getting clothed and putting my panties in his pocket as i’m still leaning on the counter still.

“cmon baby, i’ll help if you need,” i nod and he grabs my dress, nodding at me to put my arms up, i do and he slides it over me. “sit down,” again, i do. i sit on the edge of the bathtub as he grabs a random towel, wetting it and wiping off my face. “there you go,” he smiles throwing the towel elsewhere and leaning down to kiss me, “such a pretty girl,”

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo smut #sukiipjs #𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐢𝐩𝐣𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝜗𝜚⋆#𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐢𝐩𝐣𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝜗𝜚⋆

651 notes · View notes

wosoamazing · 7 months ago

Text

Barca v Arsenal Round 2

Warnings: Head injury, vomiting, concussion, google translated Spanish (sorry in advance - with english translations)

A/N: I have a request for a McCabe red card fic, so that inspired this, so a McCabe red card fic coming off the back of this will be soon. I also may have another major change for this series, or a few.... (also note that the pregnancy story line is/was a one shot)

You were sprinting full pace towards the box, preparing for Aitana’s cross, the ball was currently with Lucy, you neared the edge of the box as Aitana received the ball, preparing to be able to just tap it in, it left Aitana’s foot, however the ground also left your feet, someone had tripped you, it was McCabe, living up to her nickname, she had only meant to trip you, maybe receive a yellow, what she had not calculated for was that you hadn’t slowed, so your speed in addition to your proximity to the post meant you didn’t just fall to the ground, you went flying, straight into the goal post, head first, the sound of your head clashing with the post reverberated around the stadium as your body thudded to the floor, and your everything went black. Alexia, and Lucy were immediately by your side, practically sprinting over to you. As you started to come too again, you slowly opened your eyes and you grimaced at the brightness of the light, your vision was slightly fuzzy but you could easily make out Alexia’s face which was above over yours, she was looking at the sidelines concerned, she shook her head at something, you tried to move your head, maybe sit up, but noticed their were firm hands placed either side of your head meaning that you couldn’t, they must’ve been Alexia’s as she immediately looked down at you, her face softening as she saw the tears that brimmed your eyes.

“It’s okay Bebita, we will get you all fixed up, don't worry, just don’t try to move okay.”

Lucy was standing right next to your head, she was looking over to where quite a lot of noise was going on, Alexia looked up at Lucy before looking over there too, that’s when you suddenly heard a very familiar voice and remember you were versing your old team.

“What the hell McCabe,” you heard your sister say, as she probably pushed her “why would you do that, that’s my sister, my fucking baby sister Katie, and you just knocked her out. What were you thinking, as if you were ever going to get away with that.”

The medics came over, and Alexia, looked back to you, your eyes were darting around. “L-le, I want Le” you scaredly said as a single tear left your eye. “Lucy, Leah now” Alexia ordered Lucy, “It’s okay Bebita, Lucy is going to get her,” just after Lucy left the ref blew her whistle, the high pitched noise pierced through your skull, the sound was followed by your sister's voice “Oh you fucking deserved that,” you could hear your sister continue to argue with Katie untill Lucy raised her voice.

“Leah,” the two Arsenal players stopped, “she’s asking for you,” and just like that Leah’s mind was completely cleared of her anger towards McCabe.

“Leah,” you cried out again, as your eyes continued to dart around. “She’s coming Bebita, it’s okay she’s coming” almost as if on que Leah came into your vision, “Bug, it’s okay, I’m here.”

“Le,” you let out a sob “It hurts,” “I know it does bug, but can you stay as still as possible and listen to the medics?”

The medics were doing their usual checks, when one of them started talking to you, “¿Puedes entenderme? (can you understand me?)” “Sì” “that’s good right, it means it isn’t super bad, and like her memory is good” Lucy questioned, one of the medics gave her a small nod before they continued.

“¿Puedes decirme tu nombre, tu edad y dónde estás en español y luego en inglés?” (can you tell me your name, your age and where you are in Spanish and then in English?)

“Eh, tengo 17 años, mi nombre es Y/N y estoy en España jugando al fútbol contra mi antiguo equipo. I am 17 years old, my name is Y/N, and I am in Spain playing football against my old team” Your spanish was slower than usual but it was still well above Kiera’s spanish speaking abilities.

“Muy buena”

The medics did some more checks before looking up at Alexia and Leah, they said something in Spanish to Alexia who translated for Leah, “They’re going to stretcher her off, but they think it’s just a concussion.”

As they were moving you onto the stretchers Steph came up behind Leah and tapped her on the back before leaning forward and whispering into her ear, “Jonas said you can be subbed off if you want,” Leah smiled at her fellow teammate before nodding and following you off the pitch.

It was half time and the girls had come to check on you, all just popping their heads around the corner seeing you were asleep and deciding to leave Leah alone, who looked very stressed and worried, however Alexia and Lucy walked in, Alexia first went to you to check you were okay once she knew you were she turned to Leah, “I can’t stay for long I have to go back out with the team, but Lucy will stay, and-” “Alexia!” Jonatan shouted, she quickly walked out, “Lucy knows the rest, oh and I will get food.”

Lucy sat down next to Leah, and studied her briefly before she started to talk, she decided to just be straight with your sister.

“We don’t know if you’re staying or how long you will stay for, but Alexia said you could stay there, that she knew you probably expected that but she wanted to reassure you. Are you staying or are you going back with them?”

“I’m staying, I’m not going, I haven't been there for her so many times when she has been sick or hurt. I was here for this one, I can’t just leave her now.” she let out a heavy sigh, “I just miss her so much, I want her back, I miss her Luc, I already missed so much of her life growing up and now I’m missing everything again,” leah admitted quietly.

“Le, it’s okay, she isn’t mad at you, and you can’t blame yourself, at the end of the day she was the one who chose to go.” she just nodded, trying to hold back her tears.

______

Since you had a shower at the stadium you crawled straight into your bed when you got home, Leah getting in beside you, “Le,” you groggily spoke, “yeah,” she softly said as she smoothed out your hair, “please don’t go, please stay,” “I’m going to stay Bug, I’ve already told Jonas and Lia,” you gave her a small soft smile as you nodded slightly before your curled into her side and drifted off to sleep.

______

Later that night you found yourself hunched over the toilet, throwing up, whilst your head still pounded. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’ve got you,” Your sister said as she rubbed your back. Just as you had finished and rested your head on Leah’s shoulder, body collapsing into hers, Alexia walked in with some water and more pain meds, she was met with a confused look from Leah, “I heard you up, figured this was the reason” she whispered, before handing you the water and meds, you took them before lowering your head to now rest on Leah’s lap, promptly falling asleep.

“Thank you for taking such good care of her Alexia, she really likes living with you,” “It’s nothing,” “But it really is, and you’re doing the job I should be doing, I’m her big sister, I should be there for her when she is sick and I’m not,” the tears in Leah’s eyes that threatened to fall earlier in the day started falling, “I’m sorry,” Leah mumbled as she put her face in her hands, Alexia wrapped an arm around Leah’s shoulder to comfort her, not really knowing what else to do, as she didn;t know how to reply to what your sister had just told her.

______

You woke up to Mapi’s voice “Ingrid, Ellas estan aqui (they are in here),” you then heard her take a photo on her phone.

“Mapi?” you asked quizzically as you slowly sat up from your position on the floor.

“Hola Nena, ¿cómo te sientes? (how are you feeling?)” you only groaned in response.

“Ingrid Vendrá a recogerte, ¿quieres volver a la cama? (will come pick you up, do you want to go back to bed),” “Food?” you questioned, “¿Quieres algo de comida? (Do you want some food?)” “Sì”

“Good Morning, elskling, let's take you down and get you something to eat, I think Lucy will be here soon.” Ingrid picked you up, trying not to disturb the two older women, having a feeling they needed some sleep, Alexia’s arm was still wrapped around your sisters as Leah’s head rested on Alexia’s shoulder.

______

“Find yourself in an odd position when you woke up?” Lucy teased her captains as they walked down the stairs.

“No, the only emotion that went through us was panic,” “someone moved Bebita” Leah started and Alexia finished.

“We came over to cook breakfast, because we do that after every game day, have breakfast, us two and Alexia and y/n, sometimes others join too” Ingrid gestured towards Lucy, “But we went looking for you both and she woke up when we found you all, said she was hungry, but we let you sleep, because we didn’t know how much of the night you had slept and how much of if you spent, well…” Ingrid continued

“But we fed her, and she has kept it down so far so that is good,” Leah nodded.

“So she has only vomited once since, that's good, considering how hard she hit the post. Also thank you all so much, for everything you do for her, I-” “Le,” you said slightly panicked, as you woke up, hands wrapped around your stomach, its safe to say that moment marked the end of their ‘peaceful’ morning.

#woso #woso fanfics #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal wfc #awfc x reader #barca femeni x reader #barca women #leah williamson x reader #alexia putellas x reader

436 notes · View notes

andvys · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!

Could I please request a virgin-Eddie cumming just from eating reader out. Maybe she complains to him that no guy is able to do it right and he's like "well, teach me and I'll do it right for you!" and it ends with him cumming because he enjoys it so much :)

You can have my everything E.M.

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! smut, virgin!Eddie, cunnilingus, idiots in love, friends to lovers

Pairing: Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Note: I know that there's a few virgin!Eddie imagines out there, I haven't read many but if this one is any close or similar to another one, please let me know and I'll change it right away

Word count: 3.5k+

stranger things masterlist

Eddie had noticed that there was something off about you lately, after yet another unsuccessful date a few weeks back, you finally gave up on trying to find the right guy. As much as he hates seeing you so sad and unhappy, he can’t help but feel relieved that you did. He always hated it, having to see you get all excited about the dates, having to watch you get ready, even helping you get ready, helping you pick out outfits for dates with other guys, when he wants it to be him.

You tell him about the dates, he gets every detail– well, not every single one. There are barely any secrets between the two of you but there still are certain things that you don't share with each other. His feelings for you are the biggest secret he kept from you and he doesn't plan on ever revealing them, he would never risk losing you.

There are things you don’t tell him, you don’t tell him about what you do with the guys, you don’t tell him whether you kissed them or not, you don’t tell him if you have slept with them or not– he doesn’t know why, but he does wonder -- do you not tell him because you secretly know about his feelings and want to spare him of the things that might break his heart or is it because you are too embarrassed to talk about these things, feeling scared that he might judge you? Another part of him wonders if you do anything with these guys at all– he hopes you don’t but the hickeys he saw on your neck before, proved otherwise. It filled him with jealousy and rage, it made his skin burn and his eyes too. He hated them, he hated every one of those guys that could touch you.

He knows he could treat you better than any of those pricks ever could, even with his lack of experience, he could do so much better than them.

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he finally shuts his notebook and throws it on his bed.

You look up at him from your magazine, raising your brows at him, “hm?”

“What’s wrong?” He repeats as he scoots closer to you, “you’ve been weird for days now.”

You furrow your brows a little, glancing down at the magazine, you press your lips together into a straight line, for a moment you are silent as you get lost in your thoughts. Eddie uses your distraction to admire you.

Here you are, sitting on his bed, wearing his shirt, like you do every weekend when you stay over, like you’re his girl.

“You’ve been really frustrated and snappy lately,” he adds as he thinks about all the times you have snapped at anyone who even looked at you the wrong way– usually it were people like Jason and his friends or some of the mean girls from the cheer squad.

“Snappy?” You ask, looking up, your eyes meet his again.

“Yeah, which is fine, I guess you’re going through some stuff right now,” he shrugs, “but I just want you to know that you can talk to me about anything.”

You know you can but there are things that you can’t talk to him about. For some reason, it feels wrong.

“I-I know,” you mumble nervously.

Eddie furrows his brows, he tilts his head a little as he takes in the sight of your flustered expression. You finally close the magazine and place it on the nightstand.

“Did something happen on the last date you went on?” He asks, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice, “did he hurt you?”

You shake your head and pull your knees up to your chest, “no, he didn’t hurt me.”

He nods, relaxing a little. Eddie might be jealous whenever you go on dates but he is also worried about you, what if you get hurt? He doesn’t know what he would do if you did get hurt.

“Was he mean?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head as you grow even more flustered. You want to tell him but then you would step into new territories and the first moments would definitely be awkward and it’s Eddie, your best friend, your ‘partner in crime’ as he likes to call it, he is your childhood friend but he is also more than that. Eddie is the one you want, Eddie is the one you love.

You know that he doesn’t feel the same, that’s why you would never bother telling him about your feelings. And that is why you have been trying to get over him, trying desperately but nothing works, you can’t get him out of your mind and you never will but you know that someday, you will have to watch him fall in love with someone that isn’t you, you will have to hear stories about his successful dates and just the thought of it is enough to shatter your fragile heart.

Eddie keeps pestering you about the date that you went on weeks ago, he keeps asking questions, he keeps pushing you as though you aren’t frustrated enough already, frustrated in every way.

As he keeps poking your side and joking around, asking you the silliest questions, you finally snap.

“None of them make me feel good!” You exclaim, interrupting him, “none of them know how to touch me right! None of them know how to make me…. come,” you whisper the last word as you start blushing.

His eyes widen and he instantly shuts his mouth, his cheeks grow red as he processes your words. First he gets jealous after finally getting the confirmation that you do have sex with them, then he gets mad, how dare they touch you and not make you feel good? Then he gets curious.

“You fuck them?” He asks you bluntly.

You give him a side eye, not feeling brave enough to look into his eyes yet, “no, just hands and mouth stuff.”

He clenches his jaw, humming as he nods.

“A-And none of them made you… you know, cum?” He asks, smirking a little when you glare at him.

“No, no they didn’t.”

And there are two reasons for that.

One, they are not Eddie and two, they don’t know what the hell they are doing. You are more successful when you touch yourself.

Eddie stares at you, getting lost in his thoughts.

He thinks about touching you, all the time. He thinks about what it would be like to feel your bare skin against his, what it would feel like to have you under him, what it would feel like to kiss your lips, to make you feel good, to taste you, to hear your beautiful moans as he makes you cum on his fingers, on his tongue, on his dick.

“I could make you cum,” he blurts out without thinking.

You snap your head towards him, eyes widening as you look into your best friend’s pretty eyes. His cheeks are flushed and he seems to be flustered by his own words, yet he straightens his back and looks confidently into your eyes, “I could make you feel so much better than any of them ever could.”

“What– Eddie?” You mumble.

Your heart starts racing as you look at him, he is nervous, you can see it but he is genuine about it, he isn’t playing with you.

Eddie puts his hand on your bare thigh, he blinks, ignoring the racing heart in his chest, “i-if you tell me what to do, I promise, I will make you feel good.”

Your heart flutters and so does your stomach. Eddie is everything you think about when you touch yourself at nights. Just the thought of him kissing your skin and touching you the way you’ve always dreamed about, makes you press your thighs together.

“W-What do you mean, if I tell you to?” You ask, curiously.

You were always convinced that he had been with other girls before, that he touched them, that he had sex with them.

Eddie isn’t embarrassed to admit it, just a little flustered, “I haven’t, you know..” he shrugs, rolling his eyes, “come on, sweetheart. You know I haven’t fucked anyone, I’m a virgin– you’d know if I wasn’t, I tell you everything.”

Yeah, he does tell you everything but you thought that he might’ve kept that from you, just like you kept things from him. Yet the thought of Eddie being a virgin surprises you– he is so beautiful, so attractive, so sexy– who wouldn’t want him?

But Eddie doesn’t want just anyone, he wants you.

“You’ve never?”

He shakes his head, “no, sweetheart.”

“Why not?”

He shrugs, not wanting to tell you the truth, not wanting to mess it up with the girl he loves.

“Don’t ask so many questions,” he mumbles as he squeezes your thigh, “do you want me to make you feel good?”

You nod your head slowly as you stare at him with wide eyes.

How did you both get here?

Eddie’s heart jumps in excitement when you whisper a small ‘yes’. You want it, you want him.

“Tell me what to do,” he whispers as he bravely leans in to kiss your cheek, “so I can make you feel good.”

There was always more than just friendship between the two of you, it was so clear to everyone but the two of you. Eddie was so focused on his feelings, he never paid attention to the way you looked at him, to the way your touch always lingered, to the way you put him above everything and everyone.

You place your hand on his shoulder and look into his eyes, taking deep breaths, you move closer to him, you notice the way his breath hitches in his throat when your eyes flicker to his lips. He raises his hand to cup your cheek, placing his thumb on your bottom lip, he swallows nervously, staring at it for a long time before he looks back into your eyes.

There have been so many moments where you have gotten this close, when you gave him a kiss on the cheek the other day, you stopped to look at his lips and he swore, his heart leaped to his throat, when you poked at his sides and started tickling him, he grabbed your waist and fell back on his bed, with you on top of him and then you both stilled and your nose bumped into his, your lips almost touched -- he was dying to feel your lips on his.

There was always a sense of longing between the two of you but neither of you were brave enough to make the first move, the fear of rejection was too big.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Eddie whispers shakily, his heart starts pounding in his chest and he knows that this might be something that you don’t want but you are about to step into new territories, things won’t be the same after this anyways– he will pretend that they are for your sake, if you want it.

“Really?” You ask with widened eyes.

He smiles a little, “yes.”

“Me too.”

“C-Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you whisper.

He wastes no second to connect his lips with yours, a gasp makes his way up to his throat when he finally feels your lips on his. You softly wrap your arms around him and pull him against you, chest to chest, you hold each other tightly as you experience your first kiss with each other. Eddie still holds your cheeks, humming into the kiss when you deepen it.

Your lips feel so perfect against his, even better than he had imagined. It makes his heart flutter and his skin tingle, fire burns in his stomach and his desire for you grows bigger and bigger.

You moan into his mouth when he grabs your waist and pulls close to him before he lays you down, without breaking the kiss, he moves on top of you.

Years and years of yearning and pining is over, finally, he gets to feel you, he gets to feel what it’s like to kiss you, to touch you, even if just for tonight. He takes his time, opting to explore your body with his hands and lips first.

His erection is growing, his jeans get uncomfortably tight but he pays no attention to that. He takes your shorts off after a while, sliding them down your legs slowly.

When he hears your whine and sees the desperate look in your pretty eyes, he can’t help but wonder, is this real? He wanted this for so long and now he just got it? Just like that?

“Eddie,” you whisper as he gets lost in your eyes while his hands grip your hips tightly, “touch me,” you plead, placing your hands on top of his and moving them up to your panties, “please.”

This is real. Very real.

He leans down again, pecking your lips and your cheek, making his way down to your jawline, he kisses you gently as he plays with the thin material of your black underwear. He moves your hair out of the way, attaching his lips to your neck, he begins to suck on your skin.

You moan again, putting your hand on the back of his neck, your fingers move through his curls, “please,” you whine.

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” he whispers against your skin as he switches between sucking on your skin and kissing it. His other hand slides up to your chest, touching your boobs for the first time, he groans, “I can’t wait to taste you.”

“Do it, please, Eddie!”

How can he deny you of your wishes when you sound so pretty and desperate?

He gives you a cocky smirk, showing you confidence as though he isn’t nervous and freaking out that the girl of his dreams is begging to be touched by him. He gives you another short kiss on the lips, he places his fingers on your clit, feeling your wetness seeping through the thin material. A moan leaves his lips and his dick twitches in his pants. He begins to move his fingers in circles, rubbing your clit over your panties.

“T-That feels good, Eddie.”

Pride rushes through him when he sees your face scrunching up in please.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah– oh!”

He moves your panties to the side a little so he can touch you, properly. The truth is, he has no idea what he’s doing but he reads magazines– ones that he can learn something from, ones that teach how to touch a girl, how to make her feel good, he even bought condoms, just in case.

Just in case you finally give him a chance.

You are the only girl that he wants.

Eddie ends up taking your panties off completely, throwing them on the ground next to your shorts, he keeps kissing your neck as he rubs your wet pussy, sliding his fingers through your folds, groaning and moaning at the feeling of how soaked you are, for him. He moves away from you to look at you, watching the way you take his fingers.

He swears, he could cum just from hearing your moans but the sight of you grinding against his hand as he pushes his fingers into you for the first time does things to him, a feeling that he never felt before rushes through him.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, sweetheart.”

He is inexperienced, a little clumsy and unsure of his actions but he makes you feel good, nonetheless. He makes you feel something that no one ever made you feel before. Your skin is on fire, your heart is racing, your walls are clenching around his fingers, you can feel yourself dripping down on his sheets– you have never even been this wet before.

Eddie watches you in awe, you arch your back in pleasure and look at him with big and pleading eyes before you look down at his hand, watching the way his ringed fingers slide in and out of you.

“E-Eddie.”

“I wanna eat your pussy, baby,” he says with a whiny voice, “tell me what to do.”

Your pussy clenches harder around his fingers, especially when you watch him settling between your legs, staring down at you in fascination. Without waiting for you to tell him what to do, he sticks his tongue out and licks your clit.

“O-Oh my god– are you sure you need to be told what to do?” You moan, looking down at your best friend in shock.

He nods against you, licking your clit even faster.

“A-Ah! Shit, Eddie– keep doing that.”

He moans at your taste and at the way you moan his name, at the way you grab his hair and pull at it. Eddie’s pants feel tighter and tighter, he gets more desperate, moaning louder against you, he sends vibrations through your body causing you to whimper.

Your voice gets high pitched and shaky as you continue to guide him through it, telling him to replace his fingers with his tongue, he does it, he grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders as he dives his tongue into you and buries his face in your pussy, nudging your clit with his nose.

He moans and whimpers just like you do, he enjoys this just as much as you do– if not more. He grabs your hips tightly, his cold rings, his wet fingers, dig into your skin, his curls tickle your inner thighs. Eddie drools all over you, saliva drips down his chin.

His cheeks are flushed, he eats you out so desperately, at one point, you stop telling him what to do, he doesn’t even need to be told, Eddie is perfect. He is so lost in the pleasure, looking up at you with his pretty dark eyes, you see the smugness in them but also the desperation.

You squeeze your thighs around his head and pull his hair tighter, he fucks you with his tongue and starts playing with your clit and as your moans get louder and you begin to see stars from the pleasure, you don’t notice that his moans got louder as well.

You squeeze your eyes shut, goosebumps appear on your skin as you finally cum. Your body falls limply against his pillows, though you don’t loosen the grip on his hair just yet, whining at the feeling of his tongue lapping up all your juices.

“Eddie,” you whine.

When he gently puts your legs down, he wipes the juices off his chin and smiles at your exhausted form. He crawls over you and leans down to kiss your cheek, “was that okay?” He asks as he lays down next to you, adjusting his pants uncomfortably.

You open your eyes, still trying to catch your breath, you turn to look at him, “was that okay?” You scoff, “Eddie– no one has ever made me cum before– well except for myself.”

His eyes widen and a smirk tugs at his lips, pride settles in his chest, “good,” he whispers, “I’d like to see you touching yourself.”

You can’t help but giggle, though you slap his chest playfully and roll your eyes. You notice how flushed his cheeks are, how messy his curls are now from all your tugging, you finally notice the way he looks at you and the way he shifts uncomfortably, trying to adjust his pants.

You take his hand, “c-can I suck your dick?”

The look in your eyes is so innocent, your touch is so soft– if you keep looking at him like that, his dick is gonna get hard again.

“Uh– fuck, I would love to but uh– I kinda,” he stutters as his face grows red, “you know I–” he points to his groin.

Your confused face transforms into one of understanding, your lips part in surprise, “y-you what? You came in your pants j-just from–”

He rolls his eyes, nodding, “yes, just from eating you out, sweetheart,” he admits.

He enjoyed it so much, he didn't even need to be touched, just hearing you moan, tasting you and making you feel good threw him over the edge as well.

You giggle, placing your hands on his shoulders, you push him onto his back and straddle his waist, surprising him with your action. Instantly, his hands find their way to your hips and he stares up at you with big eyes.

“That’s so hot, Eddie.”

“I-It is?”

You nod, “mhmm.”

You lean down to kiss his cheek, “you’re hot,” you whisper as you brush his hair back to kiss his neck.

His eyes flutter closed and a breathy moan falls from his puffy lips, “shit, baby,” he whimpers, “p-please tell me we can do that again.”

Your lips are soft on his skin, your hands are on his chest, he can feel you grinding against his stomach a little as you continue to kiss him.

“Please, that’s all I ever wanted,” you whisper.

“R-Really?”

“Yes.”

“You’re mine now, Eddie.”

His heart could burst, a smile tugs at his lips.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart,” he smiles, “I’m yours.”

He grabs your face to make you look at him, “and you are mine.”

You smile at him, “all yours, Eddie.”

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble

2K notes · View notes