#I’m checking my Notes app and I have notes on it dating back to high school. omg | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

banannabethchase · 2 years ago

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Matt is bored. Bored Matt is chaos Matt. Bored Matt decides to play Truth or Dare with the roster, because apparently it's 2008 and I'm writing classic tropes out of nostalgia.

Alternate titles: 23 times Matt Jackson asked somebody "truth or dare" and the 1 time somebody asked him back Truth or dare as introspection A fictionalization of those times in high school where you dare everybody to kiss each other and you end up making out with your best friend Matt Jackson Is Bored And That Means Chaos

I hope you enjoy. This is for an old Marianas Trench lyric prompt meme for the prompts "Just spin the bottle" and "truth or dare."

Mini Playlist: Pony - Ginuwine Bad Dog - Neon Hitch Truth or Dare - Marianas Trench Wildfire - Marianas Trench

Matt is bored. And he knows that, when he’s bored, bad things happen. Well. Fun things. But bad things. Most recently he held a pie eating content, and that ended up with a $1,500 cleaning bill Tony was not pleased about.

“You’re all twitchy,” Nick says. “Why are you all twitchy?”

Matt shrugs, trying to get comfortable. It fails. “My leg has a mind of its own. I can’t make it stop.”

“Are you about to have a terrible idea?” Nick asks. He studies Matt. “Please don’t do the thing you did in TNA.”

“That’s absurd. I would never do that again.”

Nick raises an eyebrow. “Except for when you did it in New Japan.”

Matt considers it. Promotion wide Spin-the-Bottle was fun, but expected. Matt lets the idea form in front of him: spin the bottle is so out of date. He’s got a better idea.

“Oh, no, don’t make that face,” Nick groans. He drops his head in his hands. “What did I do in a past life to get you as my brother?”

“Sainthood, probably,” Matt says. He’s not bored anymore. He’s excited. “I’ll be back in a minute. Maybe.”

Nick throws a shoe at his back, but it’s not one of the thumbtack ones, so Matt considers it a win.

He googles, “Truths and Dares,” and collects things he thinks might work for the particular demographic he works with. He types some in the notes app, because the wifi in this venue is notoriously weak. He feels a little bad for the first people he runs into. They’ll be the guinea pigs to determine the most interesting options.

Orange Cassidy is refilling his water bottle in the hallway when Matt slides up next to him. “Hi!” Matt gets a nod in response. “Truth or dare?”

Orange lowers his glasses, staring blankly at Matt.

“Truth or dare?” Matt asks again. Maybe he didn’t hear.

“Um. Truth?”

“Who do you think is,” Matt checks his phone, “the hottest person at work?”

“Luchasaurus,” Orange replies. He doesn’t pause. Doesn’t think. Just answers.

“Oh,” Matt says. “Okay. Not my type, but I appreciate the fact that you aren’t worried it might make you a furry.”

“The heart wants what it wants,” Orange says, sliding his glasses back on. “So does the dick.”

Matt shrugs. “Fair. You know where the rest of your buddies are?”

“Got food,” Orange answers. “Went out.”

Matt watches him walk away. “Okay,” he says. “Good question. Backup in an emergency.” He’s a little perturbed that the Best Friends clan might not be an option, but there was no guarantee Danhausen would take his dare to paint Trent’s face to match his, so he cuts his losses. He’ll hit as many people as possible, and will intentionally not think about the person who he’d like to ask a Truth the most.

While looking at his phone, he almost trips over something. “Hey!”

“Stop staring at that phone,” says Christopher Daniels, looking like a disappointed dad. “You kids…”

“I’m thirty-seven,” Matt snaps back. “Truth or dare?”

Christopher blinks. “Excuse me?”

Matt is wondering if his experience with truth or dare with his friends as a kid was a more unique experience than he’d thought. “Truth or dare,” he repeats. “Did they not have that when you were a kid?”

“One of these days I’m going to kill you,” Daniels grumbles. “Do I have to?”

“You don’t have to,” Matt says, making sure to get his eyes all big and moony, “but it’s fun.”

“Don’t – quit looking at me like that. Who do you think I am, Page?”

“It doesn’t work on him anymore!” Matt fires back. It’s only a second later that he realizes he just gave away his secret weapon. “Never mind. Are you doing it or not?”

“Dare,” Daniels says, like it’s torn out of him. “If it’ll get you to stop.”

“I dare you to go up to the first person you see and twerk on them.” He wiggles his phone. “I will provide the music of your choice.”

“Twerk?!” he half shrieks. “Matt, I am fifty-two fucking years old. I don’t twerk.”

Matt frowns. “Let me look something up.” He googles it for a while. “Okay, internet says you have to do a Truth.”

“I’m not telling you shit, because you’ll ask about upcoming contracts.”

Matt shrugs. “Fair.” He scrolls again. “Okay, if you say no to both, I think you have to kiss me.” Technically, the rule is the person is “out”. But Matt isn’t comfortable letting people have an automatic escape from his game, and if they really don’t want to kiss him, he obviously won’t make them. Plus, Daniels is a bit of a sucker for stupid dares, and Matt’s interested to see how far he can push him.

Daniels’ jaw tenses. “Fine. Tell me who I’m twerking on.”

The first room is Tony’s office, and Matt could almost skip with glee. “What song do you want?”

“I hate you,” Daniels grumbles. “Put on Pony by Ginuwine.”

“Good choice!”

Daniels walks into Tony’s room like he belongs here. Matt peeks in after him. Tony looks up from his computer. “Hi, Chris, what’s up?”

With a sigh, Daniels nods to Matt, who cues the music. In a feat of almost miserable effort, Daniels wiggles his butt in a shameful facsimile of a twerk.

“That’s enough,” Matt says, as gently as possible. He looks over at Tony. “I – I don’t want to put you through more.”

“May I ask what is going on?” Tony says. “Actually…” He pauses, pressing a button on the phone. “Okay, the call’s muted. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Matt shrugs. “I’m playing Truth or Dare. You, Tony?”

“Truth.”

Matt huffs. “Boring. Who’s your favorite wrestler on the roster?”

Tony looks at Matt like he’s a particularly pathetic street rat. “Kenny. You know that. We’ve talked about it.”

“It’s in your book,” Daniels offers.

Matt walks out of the room, defeated. He screwed himself on that one.

“Hell fucking no.”

“Please?” Matt asks, chasing after Ethan Page. “Come on!”

“No,” Ethan says. “I am not playing Truth or Dare.”

“If you say no, you have to kiss me.”

Ethan turns around. “You are a fucking demon.”

“So will you play?” Matt asks. He turns on the eyes.

Ethan laughs, directly in his face. “Truth or dare? Okay. Truth.”

“Uh,” Matt scrolls his phone, looking for something decent. “Who is your least favorite person –”

“You.”

“I didn’t finish!”

“Sucks for you,” Ethan says. He walks backward. “Thanks for the game, Matt. Hope you lose your next match.”

Matt kicks a trash can, stubs his toe, and limps off to catering, where his mood immediately turns. There’s a lot of people in here.

“Hi.” Matt sits down next to Tay and Anna. “Truth or dare?”

They turn to each other, look at each other for a moment, then turn back to him. In perfect sync. Matt is mildly terrified. “Truth,” Anna says.

Tay laughs. “Baby. I say dare.”

“Okay, Anna,” Matt looks through the list, “if you had to punch anybody in the room, who would it be?”

Anna scans the area, tapping her chin. Her eyes land on the Blackpool table. “Yuta,” she decides. “He’s too, I don’t know, pleasant. A fist to the face would make me like him more, I think.”

“Weird logic, but okay.” Matt turns to Tay. “With their consent, of course, kiss somebody in the room.”

Matt is expecting a peck on the cheek, probably for Anna. Maybe a tiny kiss for Sammy, if he comes in.

Nope.

Tay stands, grabs Matt’s face. “You?”

He should have seen this coming. “Fine.” Tay plants a kiss directly on his mouth. It’s over before he realizes, and he doesn’t even get a chance to kiss back.

“Interesting choice,” he says, trying to put his face back where it belongs. “Um, why me?”

“You were the closest,” Tay says, shrugging. “And Sammy’s on the other side of hotel, so…”

“Oh,” says Anna, interrupting, “Jack’s here.” She waves him over, and he slides in next to her, arm around her waist. “Hi. Matt’s doing Truth or Dare.”

Jungle Boy tilts his head to the side. “Dare. Obviously.”

Matt thinks about it. “I dare you to do a lap dance on somebody in the room who isn’t Anna.”

“Lame.” He looks around. “I get to choose the music?”

Matt nods. “Provided by me, of course. Just let me know what song and I’ll play it.”

Jack looks from the Blackpool table, over to The Firm’s table. It is only then that Matt realizes how much his adult life feels like high school. “Yuta!”

“What?”

“Can I give you a lap dance?”

Yuta wrinkles his nose. “No. Unequivocally no.”

“Please?”

“Still no. Let me eat my lunch.”

Jungle Boy turns back to Matt. “Well. Sucks for you.”

“What?”

“Babe,” Jungle Boy says, turning to Anna, “what’s the sexiest song?”

“Bad Dog by Neon Hitch,” she answers automatically.

Matt shrugs. He doesn’t know the song, but the title is…well, to quote Isiah Cassidy, sus. “Odd choice, but to each their own.” He chooses the song on Spotify. “Who are you lap dancing?”

“You, obviously.”

Thus begins 3 of the strangest minutes of Matt’s thirty-seven years. Jungle Boy isn’t exactly full of rhythm, and he doesn’t exactly have the ass to make this a particularly riveting lap dance. But it’s something to do, and Matt’s doing a great job of getting people to play his game, so he figures he doesn’t have anything to complain about.

The song ends, and Jungle Boy stops dancing and immediately goes stiff again. He sits back next to Anna. “Okay. I’m going to, uh, eat my dinner now.” He nods at Matt. “Later.”

Matt stands up. “Later. Uh, if they try to kill me,” he nods over to the Blackpool table, “call Nick or something, okay?”

“Sure,” Anna says, but she’s texting, and he’s pretty sure she didn’t even hear him. Oh, well.

He plops himself next to Wheeler Yuta, who pauses midchew. “Hi.”

Yuta swallows, eyeing Matt. “What are you up to?”

“Why do you think I’m up to anything?”

Yuta gestures to Jungle Boy, Anna, and Tay. “Well, for starters, Tay kissed you, and then Jungle Boy did a weird little stripper dance on you.” He shrugs. “Common denominator is you, man.”

“Okay, fine. I’m playing Truth or Dare.”

“Dare,” Yuta says automatically. Mox laughs, dropping his head, while Claudio rolls his eyes over a bowl of soup.

“Kid, you gotta stop giving Matt an open invitation. He’ll take it.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Matt. “Won’t he?”

“That was once, and we were high on adrenaline after Double or Nothing,” Matt fires back.

Mox shrugs, grinning as he shovels more pasta into his mouth. “Fun, though.”

Yuta looks between the two of them, strangely intrigued. “You guys have kissed?”

“Yes, not the point,” Matt says. He’s got to focus Yuta back so he can knock out the rest of the cafeteria before people start to leave. “Okay, dare? Um,” he searches online, but gives up quickly. The world in front of him gave a decent prompt. “I dare you to shove all of that loaf of bread in your mouth.”

“This is my bread,” Claudio grumbles.

“Tough shit,” Yuta says, and immediately shoves the whole hunk in his mouth. Like it’s nothing. Matt wonders what the hell the Blackpool Combat Club gets up to when they’re not in combat. Yuta’s chewing is a little labored, but he manages to chew and swallow it without much problem after a few moments. He swallows once more, then sticks out his tongue.

“Ew,” Matt says, wrinkling his nose. He turns to Claudio. “Truth or dare?”

“Not him yet,” Yuta says. “If Mox kissed you, can I kiss you?”

Matt blinks at him. “Um, that was back in 2019, so it’s not like a, a BCC initiation.”

“Oh, not because of that. Mox and I are in a battle to determine who is the best kisser and you’d be an impartial judge.”

Matt has the impulse to ask what in the eff that means, and also, again, what the fuck is Blackpool doing on company time, but he refocuses. He has a match soon. He can’t waste time. “I mean. I ask you for a favor, you ask me for one.” He points to the water. “Just, I don’t know, rinse your mouth out a little first.”

Yuta nods, chugs about a gallon of water and shakes his shoulders out. “Alright.” He leans down and kisses Matt gently, a sweet press. It feels almost blasphemous to call this brush of lips the same as whatever the fuck he and Moxley did behind a giant poker chip way back then.

Yuta’s smiling when he pulls away. “Good?”

“Very different from Mox,” he muses. “For instance, you don’t taste like cigarettes.”

Mox drops his fork. “That can’t count.”

“It does,” Matt says and, just to be annoying, “and Yuta’s not all sweaty.”

“I’d just made my debut on a fuckin’ lit stage! In May!”

Matt shrugs. “Yuta wins. Now, Claudio, Truth or Dare?”

“No, no, no,” Mox interrupts again. Matt’s going to get nowhere. There’s only so many hours in a day. “I get another shot. That other kiss was years ago.”

“Oh, my god, fine,” Matt says, rolling his eyes. “Kiss me, you fool, or whatever. Clock is ticking.”

Mox leans in and presses a kiss gentler than Matt’d thought him capable of. But he still wouldn’t call it gentle. Mox kisses with single minded hunger, lips demanding and firm. They don’t taste like smoke, though Mox tastes a bit like chicken soup. He pulls away. “There. Better?”

“Better,” Matt says, “but you taste like soup this time, so I’m still gonna have to give it to Yuta.”

“Hah!” Yuta barks, and straight up points a finger in Mox’s face. “Told ya!”

Mox rolls his eyes. “Asshole.”

“Claudio, truth or dare?” Matt says.

“Truth.”

Matt scrolls his phone. “What’s your favorite fantasy?”

“Winning the world title,” Claudio says, almost automatically.

“I think – well, I guess it’s answerer interpretation, isn’t it.” Matt stands. “Thank you for your time, boys, as weird as it was.” He pauses. “Uh, Claudio?”

“Yes?” He doesn’t look pleased.

“Do you have stakes in the weird kissing battle between…” He trails off, pointing to Mox and Yuta, who have gone back to eating their lunch like they hadn’t just asked Matt to settle a bet between the two of them.

Claudio sighs. “Yuta won in my final review, too.”

“I shouldn’t have asked. Alright.” He walks over to the Firm’s table, where Stokeley Hathaway looks highly displeased at his arrival. “What?”

“Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

At least it’s moving quick than BCC. “What’s your greatest fear?”

“Being stuck in conversations with idiots my whole life,” Stokely fires back.

“I’ll take it. You,” he turns to Lee Moriarty, “truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Read out loud the last text message you sent.”

Lee pulls out his phone. “No, but you can if you want,” he reads. “To Big Bill, if it matters.”

“Thank you. Mr. Bill.”

“You can call me Big Bill.”

Matt nods. “Okay. Big Bill, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Matt scrolls the list. “Oh, this one is fun. Yell out the first word that comes to mind at the top of your lungs.”

“Potpourri!” Big Bill booms, and it staggers Matt. For just a second though.

“What the fuck goes on in that big ass head of yours?” Stokely asks, shaking his head. He turns back to Matt, somehow looking disappointed. “Alright. You finished?”

Matt nods. “Yep.” He walks to the exit, and runs right into Samoa Joe. “Oh, hi! Truth or dare?”

“Why?”

Matt shrugs. “I was bored. Truth or dare?”

Joe practically levels him with a stony star. This might have been a mistake. “I will throw you across this room.”

Matt seriously considers trying again. He has that street match later, anyway… But no. Bad idea. “Alright, suit yourself.” And he makes his way down the hallway.

He gets to his normal locker room, the one he now shares only with Nick, since Kenny came back. Since he left. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Nick says. “You seem a little less jittery than before.”

“Truth or dare is fun,” Matt says. “Speaking of which.”

Nick sighs. “Yeah, okay. Dare.”

“Ooh! You’re being fun today.” He scrolls the list, and finds the perfect one. “Oh, this is good. Show me the most embarrassing photo on your phone.”

Nick whines. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Or, I could just grab your phone and -” Matt darts out to grab Nick’s phone, but he pulls it away at the last second.

“God, okay, fine,” he whines. “Give me a sec.”

A minute so later, which Matt spends searching for other good dares and truths, Nick sighs. “Here.” He turns the phone around and shows it to Matt. It’s not that embarrassing – a photo of a particularly messy botch from the previous match with Death Triangle.

“Oh, that’s not bad.” He pats Nick on the cheek. “Thanks, baby brother.”

They gear up and walk down to Kenny’s dressing room, where he’s half asleep on the couch. “You awake, buddy?” Nick asks, reaching out to gently shake Kenny’s arm.

He wakes up slowly. “Time to get ready?”

Matt nods. “You forget your alarm again.”

“Apparently,” Kenny mumbles. “Sorry about that. Won’t be long.”

It isn’t. Kenny is ready in a couple of minutes, and they are ready for their match. Matt gets a Brutalizer, Nick gets a boot to the face, and Kenny probably breaks his ass pulling off a risky One Winged Angel. But they won. Even though Matt tapped, they still won.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Kenny says, patting Matt’s shoulder a little too hard. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Nah, you’re good.” Matt rolls his shoulder. “And I tapped! I almost made us lose.”

“I had your back,” Kenny says. “Besides, all that matters is that we won. One more in two weeks.” He winces. “I think I’ll enjoy that time off, actually.”

Matt hums in agreement. The ache in his shoulder is almost completely done by the time the clock hits ten. Kenny’s ass is solid, pun intended, Nick doesn’t have anything worse than a lump in his forehead, and Matt decides that he’s allowed to turn his attention back on his own brand of nonsense now.

“Hey, I’m not gonna bother with the trainer. I’m already feeling better.” He grins. “Anybody want to come with me to play truth or dare?”

Kenny shakes his head. “I want to go monitor Rampage, make sure everything closed out Dynamite okay.” He wiggles, wincing. “And maybe sit on some ice.”

“And I,” Nick says, “will do anything in my power to avoid being involved in your weird…” He trails off, making a bizarre hand gesture. “Well, your whatever it is. So I’m going with Kenny.”

Matt shrugs. “Suit yourself. But first, Kenny,” he grins, like everything is the way they were before the injuries, “truth or dare?”

“Die in a fire.”

“Not an option,” Matt says. “Truth or dare?”

“Fine,” Kenny says, slowly lifting himself off the table. “Truth.”

“Who on the roster would you let kiss you, if they asked nicely?”

Kenny considers, wincing as he takes his first few steps. “Jesus, don’t drop ass first on a table.” He takes a few steps, and loosens, just a little. “Probably Rush,” Kenny decides. “I like his hair.”

Matt nods. “Cool. Interesting choice. Not where I would have gone with it.”

On the way to main locker room, he bumps into the Dark Order.

“Great timing,” he leans against the wall, legs out to make sure the Dark Order don’t make the mistake of thinking that they can escape this conversation. “Truth or dare. Let’s start with Silver.”

“Dare,” he says. He looks way too excited. “You gonna make me suck a dick? Lick somebody’s stinky butthole?”

Matt involuntarily scoots a little further away. “Gross, no. What in the world do you guys get up to?”

“So much,” Uno says, sounding dazed.

“Silver, I dare you to text ‘I love you’ to whoever posted most recently in your Instagram feed.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Silver says, pulling his phone out from his trunks. Matt reminds himself to never shake his hand without Purel on hand. “Hello, Miss Grande.” He types it out, presses send and shows Matt. “Maybe she’ll pick up some tickets to the gun show and get up on this.”

“I’m pretty sure she’s married now,” Reynolds muses. “I choose truth.”

“Who’s your least favorite member of the Dark Order?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” Alex waves it away. “Five. He was the worst.” He pauses. “Actually, wait. I think my least favorite is Ten now. Because of, you know, the whole betrayal thing.”

John exhales. “I never thought I’d see the day when Five wasn’t last in something.”

“So, Uno, how about you?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you, to,” Matt checks his list again, wishing he could just memorize the whole thing, “to send a sext to the last person in your phone, alphabetically.”

“Oh, well, that’ll be,” he holds up his phone, “Wheeler Yuta.”

“This’ll be fun,” John says, “tell him you want to use his abs to do laundry.”

Uno makes an appraising noise. “Honestly, that’s better than what I was worried you’d suggest.”

“I was gonna say ‘ask him to suck your Moby dick’, but I figured that was over the line.”

“Good call,” Matt says. Uno types and sends the message. “Keep me posted. It’ll be fascinating to see where this goes next.”

He makes his way down to Death Triangle’s area, but they’re gone. No sign of them. “Hello?” he calls into the locker room. “Anybody else in here?”

“Hello hello,” says Bryan Danielson, popping out from the showers. He’s fully dressed, though, so Matt doesn’t need to have a panic attack about that. “Need something?”

“I’m playing truth or dare,” Matt says. “Which one?”

“Truth, I guess,” Bryan says, fixing his hair in the mirror.

“Who’s your favorite person on the roster?”

Bryan keeps adjusting pieces of his hair as he thinks. “Probably Mox,” he decides. “But don’t tell him I said that.”

“You’re secret’s safe with me,” Matt says, and he salutes, which he couldn’t explain if a knife was to his throat.

He walks to the other side, expecting to see it empty, but Hook is sitting there with Top Flight. “Oh – didn’t think anybody else was in here.”

“We’re trying to chill,” Dante says. His eyes are closed as he leans against the locker. “So, if you’re here to kick our ass or yell at us, wait, like, ten minutes.”

“Not any of that,” Matt says. “I’m playing truth or dare. Want to play?”

Hook takes a headphone out, considers Matt. “Truth,” he says. Matt thinks this may be the most Hook’s said directly to him. Like, ever.

“Okay, um,” he gives up on his phone, because he genuinely has a question, “favorite wrestler of all time?”

“My dad,” he answers. He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t explain, just relaxes back against the lockers. But his eyes stay open, this time.

“Alright, Dante,” he nods to him. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare. I’m always up for something stupid.”

Matt breaks into a slow grin. “Go up to Danielson – he’s on the other side – and start dancing on him.”

Dante sighs. “Should have seen that one coming. Alright, fine. Let’s go.”

Hook grins and breaks out his phone, recording it as Dante walks over. Danielson is on his way out, but Dante catches up to him and immediately starts doing what appears to be the Dougie. Bryan is not phased, and simply walks out.

“That was anticlimactic,” Matt mutters. “Alright, Darius. What’s your poison?”

He tilts his head a little. “Truth.”

“Did you consider leaving wrestling after your accident?” But it wasn’t Matt who asked. It was Dante.

Darius’ eyes widen. “Not for a second.” He looks at Dante, who’s slumped, just a little. “Hey, bud, I promise. I wasn’t going to leave.”

“But you could have,” Dante says. “You probably should have.” His eyes are suddenly big and sad, and he looks so, so young. He remembers getting that same look from Nick all those years ago, when things weren’t going well and Matt was about to quit.

Matt stands, shuffling out, because he’s not needed for this. He hears the cheers from the Rampage taping going off, so he guesses he’s shit out of luck for anybody on that show. He ducks into the corners of the dressing rooms and the prep rooms, looks for Swerve and his guys, but nobody’s there. He peeks in catering again – no one. Everybody’s either working or back at a hotel.

He catches Wardlow on his way back toward his EVP room, and taps his shoulder.

“Hey.” Wardlow turns to him. “I like the haircut.”

Wardlow touches it, fingertips pulling at strands that are no longer there. Matt remembers doing that when he and Nick first started for TNA, when they made them Max and Jeremy. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Did I miss something?” Wardlow asks, looking around. “This for your vlog?”

“No,” Matt says. “I got bored and I’m asking everyone. Getting some good gossip.”

“Like what?” Huh. Matt had not pegged Wardlow for a nosy Nancy, but Matt Jackson is always willing to dish out the knowledge he obtains.

“Well,” Matt says, “I learned that Jungle Boy can’t do a lap dance to save his life.” He thinks about other interesting details. “Oh, and Hook’s favorite wrestler is Taz, which is expected, but nice. Wheeler Yuta can shove, like, a whole loaf of bread in his mouth at once.”

Wardlow nods in approval. “Okay, that one’s actually kind of impressive.”

“I know,” Matt says, “Like, I know a lot of bread is air, but a lot of bread is, well, bread.”

Wardlow laughs, something that is both confusing and comforting to Matt. He feels unlikely to be powerslammed into the wall. “Alright. I pick truth.”

“What do you think is your biggest mistake?” It’s a rough question, but Warlow seems…well, he seems like he might need it. MJF wasn’t particularly kind to him, and Samoa Joe was a giant jerk tonight. Nobody checks on Wardlow. Somebody should talk to him.

Wardlow sighs, leans against the wall. “Well,” he say, “I’d say helping MJF all that time. I made the mistake of putting money over morals.” He smiles. “Not doing that again.”

“Well, thank you for your candor,” Matt says, doing his best to be chivalrous. “I won’t share that if you don’t want to.”

“I mean, you can,” Wardlow says with a shrug. “I feel like most people can assume, at this point.”

He waves Matt off, wishing him a happy new year, and Matt makes his way back to his room. There’s only one person left from Dynamite that he really, really wishes he’d caught. And it’s only then that Matt realized this was all an excuse. His shoulders slump, like a marionette with cut strings, and he pushes into the EVP room with Nick with the energy of a dying plankton.

“You look miserable,” Nick says, a little too cheerfully. “You get punched in the face for daring somebody to, like, make out with you or something?”

“I did not dare anybody to kiss me, thank you very much.” He decidedly does not mention the thing with Jungle Boy. Or Tay. Or the little thing with Yuta. Or the thing with Mox. Which sort of wasn’t a kiss, as much as a mouth attack. “And no, it’s because it’s been a long day and I’m tired.”

“That’s not your tired face,” Nick says. “Actually. That’s, uh. That’s your weird little temper tantrum face.”

“Shut up,” Matt says, He dips his head, trying to cover whatever Nick thinks he can read there.

“Who was it?” Nick asks, too knowing as always. “Which sane person decided not to play your game?”

“Samoa Joe, but that’s not the issue,” Matt says. He can feel that Nick is going to keep pressing, kep asking. So he caves. “I couldn’t find Page.”

“Ethan?”

Matt lifts his head up. “No.”

Nick exhales, slumping against his chair. “Man, you really are a glutton for punishment.”

“It’s a game!” Matt doesn’t know why he feels so defensive about this. “I didn’t want him to feel left out.”

Nick claps him on the shoulder. “You really miss him, don’t you.”

“I don’t want to,” Matt mumbles. “But yeah. I guess I miss what we all used to have, you know?”

They sit silently for a little, packing up slowly, until Matt realizes he hasn’t eaten since five.

“Catering might still be open,” he says. “I’ll bring you a cookie.”

The walk to the catering area is quiet, since anybody who isn’t working Rampage is gone or packing up, and he’s halfway through a tray full of a smattering of snacks when he hears it. The familiar tap on the tile floors.

“Hangman!” Matt scrambles to his feet, practically tripping over them to get out of the cafeteria and out to Adam. “Adam! Wait!”

He turns around slowly. Hesitantly. Matt doesn’t like it. “Matt?”

“Yeah, hi,” Matt says. He skids to a stop in front of Adam. “Hi.”

“You said that already.”

Matt can’t help but smile. “I know. Um, truth or dare?”

Adam sighs. “Not again.”

“It’s not spin the bottle this time,” Matt blurts out. “So you don’t have to kiss me.”

“I didn’t have to kiss you that time,” Adam says, leaning against his wall. “But, truth.”

Matt feels something well in him, some kind of bold tenacity. Adrenaline spikes. “Do you hate me?”

Adam slips a little bit. “What?”

Matt nods. “That’s your truth. Do you hate me?”

He’s quiet for a minute, for long enough that Matt is regretting this whole thing. Then, “No.” He adjusts his hair, tightening the bun. “No, Matty, I don’t.”

The nickname is like a kick to the heart. Or a jumpstart. Matt risks stepping closer.

“Now I get to ask you, right?”

Matt tilts his head. “You ask me?”

“That’s how the game’s played, isn’t it?” Adam asks. His fingers are pulling at his belt buckle. He’s nervous. “The last person to go always gets to ask whoever they want.”

“Nobody else has cashed in on that today, but, yeah.” Matt feels a little breathless. “Yeah, you can ask me.”

“Truth or dare?” His voice is low, breathy. Matt remembers that tone of voice. Remembers when it used to meet him in the middle of the night in a shitty hotel room, used to sweep him off his feet backstage.

“Dare,” Matt whispers.

Adam steps toward Matt. “Kiss me.”

Matt nods, feeling something tighten in his chest, something that’s been begging to get touched for years. He tilts his head up, and it’s like coming home. Adam’s fingers thread through his hair where it’s fallen out of the ponytail; he slides them against the base of his head like he always used to. Matt sighs into it, settles his hands on Adam’s hips, pulls him closer. Adam makes this little sound against him as he licks at Matt’s lips. Like Matt could ever resist that sound. He goes up onto his toes trying to get better leverage, and presses Adam up against the wall. Adam’s hands lose some of their demure hesitance, and they grip at the back of Matt’s shirt. It feels like an invitation, so Matt slides his hands up Adam’s shirt, pressing at the familiar skin there.

He's missed this. He’s missed Adam. He’s missed feeling like there was something other than the ground to anchor him.

Matt fumbles with the door and twists the knob, and he pulls Adam with him into whichever room this is. He doesn’t care where it is – he just needs to be away from any questioning eyes. He realizes with a hazy sense of stupid that this is, indeed, Kenny’s dressing room. And Matt doesn’t care.

Adam’s making those little, desperate noises again, the ones that get Matt hard in his pants so fast he gets dizzy, and Matt’s only option is to scrabble at Adam’s shirt and yank it up over his head.

“Missed you,” Adam growls, biting along Matt’s jaw. His hands have found their way up Matt’s back, under his shirt, burning a path where his fingertips skitter and scratch. “Want you.”

Matt can’t do much other than make a weird little murmur in response, and he hopes it’s enough to tell Adam that he wants him, too. He pulls back, just a little, and hears Adam make a half pathetic desperate noise.

“I’m coming back,” Matt says, and he pulls of his shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room. He grabs at the hem of Adam’s shirt, already messed up, and yanks it up. “Rawhide Kid?” he asks. “What…?”

“It’s a gay cowboy,” Adam says, with a little laugh. “Strangely appropriate for right now, huh.”

Matt nods in agreement, then steps back into Adam’s space. He goes for Adam’s belt, doesn’t know what he’s getting, but he wants anything Adam is willing to give. Adam’s belt flies across the room, Matt’s pants fall, and Adam grabs him around the waist. He hauls him up and presses him up against the door as he pulls the pants off his leg. Matt’s vision nearly whites out.

“Forgot you could do that,” Matt laughs, head tilted back as Adam bites a bruise into his skin. “And I’ve bulked up.”

“I noticed,” Adam says. He moves down to Matt’s bicep, nipping. “Been lifting?”

“Uh huh,” Matt says. He rolls his hip up against Adam, desperate for friction. He’s rewarded with Adam’s low laugh, the kind Matt only gets to hear with they’re like this. “Come on, take your pants off.”

Adam turns and, with a hand on Matt’s back, carries him to the couch. He drops Matt, and it gives Matt a truly magnificent view of Adam looming over him, undoing his belt.

“Got anything?” Adam asks. “It’s not back in our Ring of Honor days, not sure if spit’s gonna do the job.”

Matt feels a zing of heat course through him. “Uh, this is Kenny’s room, so if you go through his stuff, he’s bound to have something.”

“Right,” Adam says. “Going through my professional ex’s stuff so I can fuck my other ex. Totally normal.”

“Shut up and get in me,” Matt demands. Adam does shut up, but not without an eye roll. Matt doesn’t agree with Adam – spit’s worked fine for him the last few times – so he works himself down on his own finger while Adam searches.

“Okay, I think I found – oh, holy fuck.” Adam sounds like the breath has been punched out of him. “Oh, god, you look so pretty doing that.”

“Had to,” Matt gasps, writhing against the press of his own finger inside him. “You were taking too long.”

Adam hums in interest, then leans down, batting Matt’s finger out of the way. “Let me.” He presses a kiss to Matt’s bare thigh, then slicks his fingers. He’s always so gentle, this way. Kisses up and down Matt’s body, peppered to his lips, his chest, his legs. He starts off slow, takes a while to go rough enough, fast enough for Matt. It’s not in his brand to rush things, he thinks.

“More,” Matt gasps, “please. More.”

“Well, only ‘cause you beg so pretty.” Adam gently slides a second finger into Matt, twisting them so it sends shockwaves up Matt’s spine. He can’t help it – he grinds back down on Adam’s fingers, letting out a desperate moan. “Forgot how loud you get when I’m inside you,” Adam murmurs. He moves up Matt’s body, pressing a kiss to his lips like he’s drowning for Matt’s oxygen. “What do you want?”

“Wanna – wanna ride you,” Matt gasps, grinding down with each thrust from Adam.

Adam laughs. “I could make a cowboy joke here.” He teases a third finger around Matt’s rim, then slides it in easy, drawing out a sound of desperation from somewhere inside Matt’s chest. “But you seem otherwise occupied.”

Matt can’t speak anywhere, just lets out a bunch of vowels, and Adam laughs again. Matt will do anything to keep that there. He leans up, moaning at the way it shifts Adam’s fingers inside him, and pulls Adam to him. Adam slides his fingers out.

“Why the eff would you do that?” Matt asks, and he sounds petulant even to his own ears.

“Because you want to ride me, and that’s not gonna work if I’m stuck doing this standing crouching thing.” He flops down, hard, next to Matt, and rips open the condom, rolling it over himself. Matt’s about to die a little, when Adam pats his thighs. “Ride ‘em – ”

“Oh, no,” Matt says, throwing a leg over Adam’s. “No stupid jokes. We’re stopping that right now.”

“Just one?” God, Adam looks cute when he pouts, lips all pink and eyes shiny blue-green.

Matt decides argument is unnecessary, grabs Adam’s cock, and lowers himself down. It’s a strategy that’s never failed.

Adam drops his head backward with an audible thunk. “Christ on bike,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “I forgot how good you feel.”

Matt’s eyes flutter shut as he does his first rocking. “I didn’t forget you,” he mumbles. There’s certain things you can’t replicate on your own, no matter how hard you try. “You – oh – always fit me so good.”

Adam hums in agreement, starting with slow, tantalizing circles of the hips. Matt rocks, memorizing everything. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever have this again and, last time, he didn’t know it was the last time. This time, he’s prepared.

Adam slides a hand up to the back of his neck, into his hair. He pulls Matt down to kiss him, deep and dirty, and he picks up the speed of his thrusts. This is what Matt really missed – the way Adam just lets it go, gets a little wild with everything he gives. Matt starts by trying to lead, at least a little, but Adam’s desperate with it, and all Matt can really do is grip the back of the couch and press open mouthed kisses to Adam’s gasping mouth.

His cock is caught between their bellies, catching on Adam’s skin, and it’s too much and not enough at once. He presses his lips to Adam’s forehead. He doesn’t know how to tell him what he’s feeling. He hopes he can show it.

Adam slows down a little, one arm braced on the couch and the other around Matt’s back. Matt remembers all of this. They’ve just never had the chance to do this in such a nice room. Before he can catch himself. Matt laughs.

“What?” Adam asks, laughing along with Matt.

“Just – Kenny’s room,” Matt says. “I don’t know. It’s funny.”

Adam hums, but he must not be feeling the humor, as he speeds up and gets his hand on Matt and very suddenly Matt has other things to focus on.

It hits Matt like a train, when he comes all over Adam’s hand. Adam groans, “Fuck, you’re so, I…” But he trails off into a wordless moan as he comes, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. Matt forgot how good Adam looks like this.

He’s got a giant smile on his lips as he eases his eyes open. “I missed you,” Adam half slurs, reaching up to brush hair from Matt’s forehead. “God, I missed you.”

Matt shifts, hips screaming at him, and flinches when Adam slips out of him. He’ll be feeling that tomorrow, that’s for damned sure. “I missed you, too.” He’s not sure what happens next, the reality of this crashing over him when Adam stands.

“Don’t panic,” he says, looking more confident than Matt feels, “just throwing this away.” He walks into the bathroom and comes right back out. “I’m not running out on you.”

“Oh. Cool. That’s good.” Matt really, really doesn’t know what comes next, but he’s been getting yesses almost the whole day so he figures luck is on his side. He reaches out, and Adam dives into his arms, pressing Matt to the couch. Matt settles into it, feels cozy when Adam nuzzles his neck and throws his legs over Matt’s lap.

“Forgot how cute you are, after,” Matt murmurs, arms around Adam’s shoulders.

“Shut up and let me cuddle,” Adam says back, but there’s no fire behind it, no anger. They stay there for longer than they probably should, testing the silence from time to time with little nothings, comments.

Well, until they hear footsteps. Matt manages to get his jeans and boxers back on, Adam his boxers only, by the time the door opens.

“What – what the hell?” Kenny doesn’t look angry, exactly. Anger would look a lot less confused. “I really hope I don’t know what you just did.”

“Take a wild guess, Kenneth,” Matt says, pulling his jeans on over his boxers. “Not like I haven’t run in on you and, well a lot of people, come to think of it.”

“How am I being slutshamed when you two are the ones fucking on my couch,” Kenny mutters.

“I’m not shaming that you’re a slut,” Matt says, shirt back on. The neck hole is super stretched, though. Hopefully a good wash will fix it. “I’m just commenting on it.”

“Can we stop saying that word?” Adam asks. Matt turns to see him doing his belt, and it sends that zing up his spine again. “And, uh, hi, Kenny.” He puts out his hand, winces, then pulls it behind his back.

Kenny shakes his head. “I don’t need to know the details.” He walks over to his stuff. “Oh – did you.” He cuts himself off, head snapping up. “Matt, did you steal my lube?”

Sheepishly, Matt finds the lube where they’d thrown it. “Here.”

Kenny makes a strange noise as he sort of tosses it in his hands, then throws it into his bag. “Don’t give me the condom back, for the love of god.”

“Already gone,” Adam says, grinning. “Thanks for the assist by the way.” The bastard winks at Kenny, Matt’s wondering if he’s physically able to get hard again just from that.

Kenny makes that weird noise again. “I should be annoyed by this.”

“Maybe,” Matt says, “but you hate being annoyed at me. It’s inconvenient.”

In tandem, Adam and Kenny groan in frustration. The cut it off at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.

“Moving on from that,” Adam says, starting to blush. “Anybody see my shirt?”

“Back of the couch,” Matt and Kenny say at the same time.

“Alright, well, I hate that,” Adam says. “Give it to me.”

Matt snorts. “Here.” Adam takes the shirt and pulls it back on, much to Matt’s chagrin. “So,” Matt says, “I was, like, in the middle of dinner when I heard Hangman walking down the hallway, so I’m starving. Anybody want to get food?”

“Shouldn’t this be weird?” Adam asks. “I mean,” he points between the three of them, “with everything, this should be weird.”

Kenny’s smile is more gentle than Matt would have expected. “Let’s save awkward for tomorrow. I didn’t get dinner either.”

Matt begins a spirited argument with the two of them about which is better, Denny’s or IHOP, and, for the first time in years, he feels whole.

The afterglow, though. That gets ruined fast.

“Where the eff were you?!” Nick asks, looking panicked in the hallway. “You haven’t answered your phone in, like, forty-five minutes!”

“I was busy,” Matt says, and he watches Nick get it as his eyes go to where Adam’s and Matt’s hands are linked.

“Oh, here we go,” Nick says, but he’s smiling, so Matt thinks he might be okay.

“Goin’ to IHOP,” Adam says. “Wanna come with?”

“What if we go to Cracker Barrel?” Matt asks, the idea fully formed before he was finished speaking.

Kenny puts his hands on his hips. “Huh. You know, I haven’t had Cracker Barrel in, what years.”

“Me either,” Nick adds.

Adam beams over at Matt. “Cracker Barrel. Just like old times.”

#Matt Jackson #HangMatt #There's too many people I'm not tagging anybody but the cow eyed menace #in which Sara writes #wtf i like wrestling now???

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meowdarame · 3 years ago

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“𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭?”

pairings: tooru oikawa x f!reader (afab!reader, she/her pronouns)

synopsis: hectic is an understatement for oikawa’s schedule— it’s not easy being a pro-athlete. and because of the chaos of his daily life, he foolishly forgets to buy you a birthday present. all is doomed until he realizes that he has the perfect present tucked away in his gym shorts. (inspired by a line in the song “birthday sex” by jeremih)

warnings: NSFW, 18+ MINORS DNI; oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, lmk if there’s anything that i missed!

word count: 2.8k

notes: part of my birth month event, for she’s a jolly good fellow! also this was my first work that was NOT beta-read, so i apologize if it’s a little rough! as always, hope you enjoy and likes and reblogs are super appreciated!

special tag: @bxnten BECAUSE I’M DUMB AND DIDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT CAT MEANT TO TAG HER IN MY STUFF 😭

Only two thoughts cross Oikawa’s mind after a Friday afternoon practice: 1) What fucking day is it again? and 2) Shit, I’m totally screwed.

To say that his schedule is “hectic” would be a drastic understatement. Between grueling early morning and late afternoon volleyball practices and exhausting photoshoots for his sponsorships and brand deals, the pretty setter barely even has time to think to himself. He wakes up just as tired as he was when he went to bed, and this pattern continues through all seven days of the week, all fifty-two weeks of the year. Soon, his days begin to blend together, nearly indistinguishable from one another. If his life were a painter’s palette, the only color that would be visible on it would be a drab shade of brown.

Even then, when the common man would most likely crumble and fold under this intense pressure, the “Great King” Tooru Oikawa overcomes and conquers. It comes as no surprise to anyone that he’s able to keep up with his daily activities, entrusting his day-to-day routine in the hands of the beloved calendar app on his phone. But it’s this same app that stupidly forgot to remind him a week prior to today that this Friday was your birthday— or perhaps it did alert him, but the notification was just buried under a sea of work emails and Instagram comments from his adoring fans. Honestly, who knows?

All he knows is that right now, as he flies down the Argentinian highways and races home, Oikawa feels more like a court jester than he does an honorable member of royalty.

The heavy wooden door of your home slams shut with a loud thud. After tossing his keys onto the kitchen counter, he checks the time on his watch and exhales a sigh of relief. Thankfully, you should still be at work for another hour, which buys him just enough time to figure out a gift. He plops down onto the couch and begins brainstorming potential presents for you, his wife of three years.

But then, he comes to a horrible realization— he has absolutely no idea what you could possibly even want.

He scours every crevice in his mind, replaying conversations with you in high-definition. What about that upscale winery she mentioned to me in passing that one time? That would be a nice dinner date! He thinks to himself. No, it’s too late to make a reservation for tonight. The earliest I’ll probably be able to book a visit will be next month. Ruffling his wavy brown locks in frustration, he continues his mental search.

Lingerie? No, he bought you that for your anniversary last month. New shoes? Your front door already looks like a department store with how many heels and sneakers you have. Jewelry? There’s no way he would be able to go to the jewelers right now and make it back in time before you arrive at home.

Oikawa thinks he’s ran out of options until he remembers how warm your body felt pressed up against his earlier this morning, with the flesh of your ass indiscreetly rubbing against his morning wood. You had begged for him to stay home and skip practice to spend the day with you, insisting that you could call in a sick day at work. When he asked for the reasoning behind your forthright demeanor, you cryptically explained that it was “just a special day” that you wanted to enjoy with him. At the time, your words flew right over his head, but now Oikawa realizes that he’s no better than the other daft men who are terrible at reading women.

But this memory sparks an idea in Oikawa’s stressed out mind, and he shoots up out of his seat and turns over the entire apartment in search of silky red ribbon and sewing scissors.

…

The first thing that you notice when you come home from work is that all of the contents in your storage closet are splayed out on your dinner table. Figuring that it’s the work of your charming (yet sometimes idiotic) husband Tooru, you huff out a sigh and call out for him.

“Tooru?” After a few seconds of prolonged silence, you hear his saccharine voice echo from the hallway.

“In here, sweetheart!”

You follow the sound of rustling and shuffling, assuming that Oikawa is the culprit behind the rowdy noise. Turning the corner to the entrance of your bedroom, you expect to see your husband either moving furniture or folding laundry.

But what you didn’t expect to see is Oikawa’s naked body posed on top of a bed of rose petals, a beautiful bright red ribbon wrapped in a bow around his fully-erect dick.

Your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. “Tooru, what the fuck is all this?” You half giggle, half scoff, your hands gesturing to the scene before you.

“It’s your gift, baby! Happy birthday!” He cheers, enthusiastically throwing his arms up into the air in triumph. “Do you like it?”

“I mean, yes, I-I guess,” you sputter out as a whirlwind of thoughts flies through your bewildered mind. “It’s very thoughtful, honey, but who’s gonna clean this mess up?”

“I will! Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a single thing.” Oikawa races to you in the doorway, grabbing your wrist and quickly dragging you to the edge of the bed. You both sit down, the mattress dipping with the added weight, and your fingers delicately run over his palm, tracing the outline of what feels like a Band-Aid.

“I accidentally scraped my hand on a thorn when I was picking petals from our rose bush outside,” he sheepishly admits, a cute rosy tint adorning his cheekbones in slight embarrassment. It’s adorable that despite being in his late-20s, he’s still as accident prone as he was when you first met him at 18. Lifting his hand to your lips, you press a soft kiss against his skin, and his shoulder muscles relax at the tenderness.

“Thank you, Tooru. This was very sweet of you,” you murmur with his balled-up fist pressed against your cheek.

“Of course. Anything for you, darling,” he whispers, a small smile creeping up on his pink lips.

“Hmm,” you hum to yourself and smile back at him. Your eyes interlock for a brief moment, but then yours begin to wander down his slender neck to his chiseled abs. They come to a full stop at his crotch, drinking in his pretty cock that stands tall and proud against his stomach, resting only a centimeter below his belly button. The silky ribbon is tied in a perfectly-even bow around the base of his shaft, and the red color accentuates the reddish-purplish shade of his tip. Precum already leaks out of his sensitive slit— you assume that he had been pleasuring himself for quite some time before you returned home. And given that he’s still hard as a brick after not touching himself for a few minutes, you can only imagine how turned on he must be right now.

“So,” you murmur in a low, seductive voice. “Is this my gift?” You accentuate your words by swiping your thumb over his slit, spreading a dribble of his precum over his head and eliciting a shudder from your husband. You run your fingertips up and down his shaft, ghosting over his tan skin; you tug on one of the loose ends of the bow and undo it. The ribbon slides down his legs, landing crumpled into a ball on the floor.

“Yes,” he breathes out after regaining some composure. “It is. You can do whatever you want with it.” He shoots his signature devilish smirk at you, but to his surprise, you’re unphased.

“I can do whatever I want with it?” You ask incredulously. “Nuh-uh, I don’t think so, baby.” Standing up from your seat, you begin removing your work clothes one-by-one, teasing Oikawa and making him lick his lips in anticipation. After a minute of slowly stripping, you stand before him completely nude, and your husband looks like he has stars in his eyes.

“You must be out of your mind if you think that I’m going to work for my birthday gift.”

He tilts his head at you in confusion, but you quickly explain what you mean by lying down on the center of the bed.

“If anything, I think that my gift should be pleasing me on my special day. Don’t you agree, Tooru?”

His smirk is plastered on his face once again, and he crawls his way over to you. “What?” He growls. “You want me to fuck you ‘til you can’t even think, princess?” His arms cage both sides of your legs, slowly creeping his way up your torso to be face to face with you. “Want me to make you cum and cream all over my cock, hm?” His muscular body is about halfway on top of yours when you place your foot firmly on his shoulder, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Mmm, yes, but maybe later,” you cheekily reply, pushing his face down to your bare cunt. “But first, why don’t you use that talented tongue of yours for something instead of running your mouth, huh?”

He chuckles. “You’re lucky it’s your birthday, brat,” is all he says before diving his head in between the plush of your thighs, the flat muscle licking a solid stripe up your wet folds.

Oikawa wastes no time— his lips immediately latch onto your clit, suckling on the swollen bud while his tongue swipes the nub back and forth. A string of expletives gets caught in your throat when his movements pick up in pace, causing your needy hole to clench around nothing. Weaving your fingers into his brown locks, you pant and beg for more.

“Tooru,” you airily breathe out. “Want your fingers, please.”

He smirks against your pussy, and it’s clear that your desperation went into his ears and shot straight to his ego. On any other day, he’d want you to be a sobbing, drooling mess before he caved in to your pleas, but since today is your special day, he obliges your request. His fingertips collect some of your slick before three digits plunge into the fluttering walls of your cunt.

A shrill cry resounds off the walls of your bedroom. Your legs kick out, your body actively trying to run away from Oikawa’s hand, but his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs and hold you in place. “You can take it,” he asserts, mumbling into your pussy. His deep brown eyes stare into yours hungrily. The pads of his digits massage the gummy spot on the topside of your walls, and the stimulation makes your vision go white. “Cum on my tongue, princess. Make me proud.”

His encouragement pushes you over the edge. Your walls clench around his fingers, nearly pushing them out entirely. Oikawa laps up the juices that ooze out of your cunt, letting the sweet taste of your orgasm dance on his taste buds. He lets you ride out your high until he feels your tense muscles begin to relax, and his lips detach from your oversensitive clit; quickly popping his digits into his mouth, he licks and cleans the appendages off.

“Well that was fast. I think we just set a new record, babe,” he teases, stroking his cock with saliva-coated fingers. “Why don’t we celebrate by painting your beautiful body with my cum, hm?”

Your fingers fervidly wrap around the back of his neck and pull him in for a kiss, shutting him up. Your tongues clash, and your teeth nibble at his bottom lip, eliciting the prettiest and most pathetic whines from him. You pull away, chest heaving and out of breath.

“Just fucking do it already,” you pant.

Oikawa plants one more quick kiss on your lips before readjusting your bodies. His arms cage both sides of your head, and you wrap your legs around his slim waist; hand snaking in between your warm bodies, you run his tip up and down your folds to collect your slick and line his head up with your fluttering hole. He’s about to thrust into you, but before he can, you squeeze your legs and pull his body flush against yours, bottoming him out in one solid, swift motion.

“Fuck!” You both moan at the same time. Oikawa nestles his head into your neck, and his hot, shaky breath tickles the baby hairs on your skin. You feel his drool pooling on your collarbone, and you realize that his mouth is agape— he’s barely started but he’s already too pussydrunk to even keep his mouth closed.

“Already close, baby? I thought you wanted to fuck me ‘til I can’t even think,” you taunt him, but your mockery is soon cut off when he reels his hips back and sends them crashing forward into the back of your thighs.

Lewd squelching noises fill the room. Moans rumble from both of your chests, but none of what you’re saying is coherent— both of you already reduced down to babbling messes, too engrossed in pleasure to even form a single sentence. With every roll of his hips, Oikawa hits your sweet spot, sending waves of euphoric pleasure up and down your spine. His movements pick up in pace, becoming more frantic and sloppier, now deliciously kissing your cervix with each thrust; it causes your eyes to roll to the back of your head and your toes to curl.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you tug his head back and pull his face out of the nook in your neck. His lips crash against yours, muffling the sounds of his needy whimpers against your mouth.

“Tooru, you feel so good, baby. I fucking love you,” you moan when one particular thrust sends your body jolting upwards on the bed.

“I love you more,” he whines. Sweat beads around his temples, and his fluffy brown hair sticks to his forehead. His body is hot to the touch, and his strokes become messier. “Fuck, I’m close. Where do you want your gift, princess?”

“Inside,” you practically cry out. “Fill me up, please!”

“A-Are you sure?” He stutters, unsure if he heard you correctly.

Your next movements don’t give him any choice— your ankles interlock behind Oikawa’s back, trapping him in place as he spills his seed inside of your velvety walls. Feeling the immense warmth inside of you, your back arches off of the bed, your perked nipples brushing gently against his glistening, sweaty skin. He lets your pussy milk him dry before he pulls out, your legs still tightly tangled behind his back.

His softening cock plops onto your belly. “Babe, you know you could let go of me now, right?” He jokes, littering your face with fluttering kisses all over your face.

“I know,” you whisper dreamily. “Just wanna keep you close, that’s all.”

He chuckles, planting one last kiss on your forehead before rolling over and lying down beside you. You scooch your body so that your head lies on his chest, tracing heart shapes on his broad chest and tickling his skin.

“So, did your gift live up to your expectations?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow and lifting his head up to look down at you.

You giggle and look up at him. With a bright smile spread across your face, you respond, “It exceeded my expectations, Tooru.”

“Good, good,” he hums, throwing his head back onto the pillow. He shuts his eyes and, to his stupidity, he foolishly thinks out loud. “Can’t believe it worked! And to think that I planned this whole thing today!”

“What?”

His eyes shoot wide open and he looks down at you once again. Your brows are furrowed and you scrunch your nose at him. You consider hailing an onslaught of insults at him, but ultimately you decide against it.

“Even though you may have forgotten my birthday, I’ll let it slide. For a gift that you planned and executed in 12 hours, you really outdid yourself.”

You laugh in your head. Twelve hours is a gracious estimation. The truth is that from the moment you stepped into the foyer of your home, you knew that he had forgotten about your birthday and was scrambling to find a present for you. And from the way that your house had looked like it was literally ransacked when you arrived, you could tell that he had only remembered an hour before you returned home.

You know his dirty little secret, but you figure that you’ll let it slide. His gift was pretty good, after all.

taglist: @sabyss @petalsrdead @miya-dynasty @ohtobiors @frenchtoastmafia @devilgirlcrybabiey @chaotic-fangirl-blog @semisgroupie @dessceased @sunat2508 @rueren @rinsie @portfolio-of-dreams @crystal-lilac @21-06-1996 @sweeneyblue1 +++ @lunaevangeline my resident oikawa simp hehe <3

#🎲.writes #🎲.oneshots #🎲.birth month event #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #oikawa oneshot #oikawa smut #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n

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boujeeceo · 3 years ago

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2022 Goals June-Dec

Theme: Polished, Pretty and 16hrs.

The more I level up the more I’m interested in working smarter and less. I have 16hrs a day to make a difference in my life.🧿

Brand and bettering myself

1hr daily Take free online classes + Textbook notes

1hr daily workouts

1hr Spanish lesson

1hr Instrument lesson

*No matter what I have to do these daily.

4hrs daily of work + 8 main job + 4hrs rest/hobbies = 16hrs

Main Affirmations: There is no reason to rush. I’ll get where I want to go in due time. I am beautiful, wealthy and beloved. My future is secure and bright.

Beauty

Put my hair in protective styles only get hair done every 2-3 months. (Styles: sew ins, twin tails, cornrows, passion twist, braided ponytail, jumbo senegalese twist, boho box braids, faux locs, embellished bantu knots) Moisturize every other day with oil or grease. Can’t do the same hairstyle twice in a row

Start my new skincare routine

Find a rhinoplasty plastic surgeon and book them

18%-20% Body Fat AKA Strong curves (Gym routine/Food) (2,650$ total cost for the year)

Cosmetic surgery- get done this year

SMILE eye correction surgery 5,600$ October 2022!!! DONE AND HEALING

Braces Paid off (3,250$)

Cosmetic surgery- save for early 2023

Nose job 4,000$ ($14,000 total needed)

Financial Goals

Save 5,000$ Nest egg

My main businesses planned out and set for 3-5 years.

Find a mentor

Get a new set of business cards, email, BUY a personal website/ Finish creating my personal website

MENTAL

Finish 3-6 online classes

Read 3 finance textbooks books with notes

Focus on to become intermediate in Violin & Recorder

Focus on to become conversationally fluent Spanish

Finish my personal reading list and take notes

Read 12 books for fun

Find an undergrad Finance Certification (put the money for it to the side) Applying in 2023

FUN (optional)

Calligraphy daily

Monthly check off an item on my bucket list/manic pixie dream girl bucket list

Stay up-to-date on all my vaccines

Collect my medical history for myself

Get all my important documents copied and archived somewhere safe

Start an indoor garden

Get my bartending certification

Go out to high end restaurants and try new food every time

Try something new every time I go to a restaurant

Driver’s license

Learn to ride a long board skate board OR Inline roller skates

Learn to braid my own hair

Join these 3 clubs and make some friends. Do each at least once a month, goal once a week. By June. Horseback riding 💞 Pole dancing 💞 Kickboxing 💞

Stretch goals

Get 5 awards/grants in entrepreneurship (Make a name for myself) June-Dec

Maybe a domain for myself personally, a work phone and apps for burner numbers. (moving this goal to 2023)

The vision

I will be a millionaire in my 30′s without burning out or feeling like I’m wasting my youth chasing my distant dreams. Once I’m done with this list I’ll be in a wonderful spot to use my pretty privilege to get sponsorships, internships, information, mentorships, opportunities. I’ll be in a great position for a starter husband/boyfriend. As long as I get my butt back into the right places and brush up on my flirting skills.

Every so often I get into a mood where I feel stuck. Even if I’m where I want/need to be. This panic makes me feel a need to change my environment or what I’m doing to speed up the process. This relaxed, organized version of my needs and goals will open up my options propel me forward and allow me to do hot girl shit without guilt.

#corporate barbie #2022 goals #2022 resolutions #corporate baddie #pinned post #boujee ceo

3K notes · View notes

lovlychan · 2 years ago

Text

as sweet as strawberry pancakes

pairing: joshua hong x reader ft. appearances from the other members! word count: 6.2k genre: fluff, humor (?), slice of life, college au, non idol warning(s): food mentions, mentions of drinking, mingyu sucks at hygiene but i love him

summary: ethics is a pain in the ass, thank god sweetheart joshua hong is here (aka joshua is just.. so whipped for reader lol almost as whipped as the whipped cream on pancakes)

note: i’m failing ethics irl so this is just my way of coping lol (i hate kant so much)

You curse the gods that placed you in your current predicament. Actually, no, you curse Kim Mingyu for never sneezing into his arm as any sane person would do. If it weren’t for him and his gross habit of sneezing in whatever direction, you wouldn’t have come face to face with a disgusting amount of snot, wouldn’t have gotten a cold, and wouldn’t be absent for your Fundamentals in Ethics class.

While he did feel bad and give you some of his homemade chicken noodle soup (which almost made you forgive him, that man was like a Korean Gordon Ramsay) the tasty broth wouldn’t be enough for the situation that it landed you in.

See, you absolutely sucked at Ethics. No matter how many hours you put into the subject, all of your tests came back with an almost insulting red mark. 12 out of 30, 5 out of 15… damn you Kant, and your stupid ideologies. It’s not like you didn’t study or anything, the quizzes just kept beating your ass.

The only way to save yourself from retaking the class would be the upcoming final group presentation. You knew this and prepared in advance by thinking of who you’d ask to be grouped with. The roster of high-achieving students that you’ve got to know throughout the semester repeated in your head like a chant: Jihoon, Namjoon, Eunwoo, Intak. You were ready to speed into class and tell your professor those exact names.

But of course, the universe just loved to screw you over. No matter how hard you tried to argue with your roommate that your cold wasn’t even that bad, she refused to let you out, in fear of “killing half the campus” with your damned cold. Thanks to that, you were stuck with the unwanted members of the class: a girl that spent the entire session scrolling through dating apps, a couple that was way too invested in each other to learn anything, and a guy that hid his phone under his desk to play Solitaire.

Solitaire. Not even a fun game. You might be a bit too harsh on your unfortunate group, but you really needed to ace this project. Knowing that the five of you would end up nowhere unless someone took lead, you became the makeshift leader, adding them all into a group chat that was often left with your messages never seen.

Luckily, the others finally saw your most recent message asking to meet up in the campus library to discuss your presentation. Unluckily, none of them prepared for it. You were stuck rambling on about your proposed topic, while the other four just stared at you.

“How about we discuss the Valley of Sorrow dilemma? You know, the one where a doctor has to choose between breaking his confidentiality contract or releasing data about a cure? I think it would be a great way to compare a deontological approach versus a utilitarian approach”, you say, inwardly groaning at how the couple in front of you continue to play footsie under the table. At one point, you felt the girl stroke your leg. You really should’ve worn jeans today.

“Sounds good to me”, the Solitaire boy says while checking his watch. “But uh, I think I’ll have to head out early. Sorry guys, the gamers club needs me right now.”

Bullshit. Your friend Wonwoo’s the president of the club, and you know they never meet on Friday (Wonwoo likes to volunteer at the animal shelter near your dorms). But, you let him go anyway. It’s not like he was giving any useful output anyways. The others soon follow, with the dating app girl rushing off to find her “special man” for the night, and the couple leaving for whatever stupid excuse they gave. You didn’t even bother listening to them, knowing that they’ll most likely head to an apartment and get laid. Good for them, I guess.

Stuck on your own, you get to work on your laptop. Screw you Kim Mingyu. (You don’t know it, but across the campus, the poor boy feels as if the universe is calling him out in the middle of a volleyball game. He gets hit with a ball square on the head. He’s stuck with the ball’s logo branded on his forehead for a while.) As an hour passes, you decide you’ve done enough work for now, getting up and groaning at the soreness of your back. It takes you a while to finally stand up straight, and you decide to give your dead legs a wake up by walking through the library. You might’ve looked like a senior citizen with your back hunched over, but that was far from your worries. This paper is beating your ass, and your groupmates have proven to be useless. Maybe you could find some sources for the presentation in the library while you take your walk. That’s not what you find, however, finishing going through a row of bookshelves. Feeling tired and defeated, you groan a bit too loudly for a library.

“Stupid Kant. Why can’t I just live with my own ways of thinking? It’s better than going with what a dead white man thinks”, you say out loud to no one in particular.

“Bad day?”, shocked to find someone else, you turn around to look at a familiar face.

“Joshua? Hey! Long time no see!”

It’s a common greeting indeed, but it’s true. The last time you saw the guy was months ago, at a party your friend Seungkwan dragged you to. He bribed you with the promise of Mcdonald’s after staying for a while, and who were you if not a starving student to say no to a Big Mac? You spent that night being dragged around by your friend, introducing you to every person at the party. While most people’s names left your mind right after meeting them, Joshua Hong was different. He already caught your interest when Seungkwan introduced him as the “gentleman of all gentlemen”, which was far from your dating history that left much to be desired. Deciding it was safe for you to stay with him, Seungkwan bounced off to some of his friends that were taking shots.

You and Josh were honestly were vibing hard, talking about how the two of you were dragged to the party by friends, and how the hell Seungkwan knows everyone and their mothers. You finally felt at ease at the party, away from the grinding and sweaty bodies of college students that wanted to forget their asshole professors for the night. Unfortunately, the easygoing pattern of the conversation was ripped from you quickly, with Joshua explaining that his friend Vernon was dragged into a seven minutes in heaven game that he absolutely did not want to join. You giggled and waved him away, knowing that his poor friend needed his attention more than you. With how sudden he had to leave, you never got to get his number. You would’ve asked Seungkwan for it, but you knew that it would lead to him suggestively wiggling his eyebrows and offering to set the two of you up together. Ever since the two of you became friends, he’s told you that getting laid could make you a happier, way less stressed person.

That was months ago, and you haven’t seen Joshua since. Despite your campus being rather small, you just chalked it up to him being busy. At the party, you learned that he was active in a lot of clubs and extracurriculars, being part of all the different organizations, ranging from jewelry making to glee club. He was a hardworking guy, and you realized he had another responsibility as you stared at his outfit, seeing a lanyard in your university’s school colors with the bold text “volunteer librarian” on it.

“Hey to you too, ___. The last time I saw you, you were holding Seungkwan back from hogging the karaoke machine”, he says, putting some books onto the shelf from his little cart.

You groan at the memory, recalling how your friend shouted at everyone that no one could top his rendition of Beyonce’s Love On Top. Seungkwan was way too hammered to even take you to a Mcdonald’s, and you ended that night helping him puke his guts out. So much for a Big Mac.

“Oh God, don’t remind me”, you shudder. “All he did on the way home was belt high notes and talk about how Beyonce saved his life. And yeah, it’s been a pretty bad day. Got stuck with some awful group mates for an already awful subject. God, I hate ethics”, you say, rolling your eyes at the mere mention of the terrible ordeal you’re stuck in.

He lets out a sympathetic sigh, “Ethics, huh? What’re you guys learning?”

You sigh, “Deontology. Still have no fucking clue what I’m doing though, and I have a paper due in a week and no one is helping out.” He gives you an empathetic smile and puts a book back into the shelf before he replies.

“I think I took that last semester. I have some notes I could give you. Don’t have them on me right now, but… if you’d be willing to stop by here tomorrow then I’d be glad to give ‘em to you.”

You almost shed a tear at the boy’s generosity. In this dark and seemingly hopeless situation filled with terrible groupmates, shameful grades, and some ideology you haven’t fully understood, Joshua Hong is like the light at the end of a tunnel.

“Really? Oh my god, that sounds amazing, thank you! This really means a lot. I can stop by tomorrow around the same time maybe?” You want to hug the kind boy in front of you, chant thank you over and over again. But your mind decides against it, reminding yourself that you’ve talked to him only twice so far.

“Of course!”, he chuckles, “anything for you.” You blush at the sweet sentiment, and leave him to his work while you head back to your laptop.

“Joshua Hong, I think you just made this terrible day a little bit better.”

The next day comes, and you excitedly walk into the library, with a bag of pastries and some coffee in tow. The guy’s gonna be your saving grace, might as well thank him with some sweet treats and a little caffeine pick-me-up. You wander around for a while, finally finding him in the fiction corner. As you approach him, he looks up and smiles.

“Oh! Hey! I have the notes in my bag, let me go get ‘em.” He sets down the books he’s holding, and before he can run off to get your lifesaving notes, you wave your chocolate eclair in his face.

“You got me snacks? God, I feel like you’re saving my life more than I’m saving your own. I’ve had like three hours of sleep, I was so close to faceplanting into the wall earlier” he yawns, emphasizing his statement.

“Yeah, anything for someone that’ll save me from failing this class. Guessing college is kicking your ass too?”

He hums, “Something like that. I’ll go get your notes, just stay here.”

As he goes off to get his notes, you spend the time going through the books he’s organizing, recognizing some of the books as the ones you’ve read as a kid. Alice in Wonderland, Matilda, Charlotte’s Web… maybe you should visit the library more often to reread them. Stuck in your thoughts, you don’t even hear the boy come up to you.

“Hey! Here, I made sure they were extra neat for you.” He reaches his hand out to give it to you, and you probably look like a child in a candy store with how happy you look at the bundled sheets of grid paper.

“Woah, thanks. And can I say, our handwriting’s crazy nice! Mine’s like chicken scratch, honestly”, he laughs, setting the papers in your hands. As you turn to leave after thanking him, he calls out your name. You look back at him, confused.

“Oh! I just wanted to ask if you wanted to exchange numbers. That way I could help you if you’re struggling with some stuff, maybe?” he looks at you hopefully, and you smile back at him.

“Yeah, of course! Thanks for saving me from a big fat ‘F’, really.”

Joshua Hong’s notes are your lifesaver. From the ten-page bundle, you’ve finished over half of your paper. However, you’ve come to a pause as you stare at the huge inkblot at the bottom of the page. It’s been fifteen minutes, and you have no idea what it’s supposed to say. Giving up on the hopes of the ink magically forming into legible words, you pull out your phone to text Joshua.

__: hey josh!! hope u aren’t busy or anything, just wanted to ask what this says

__: [image attached]

You wait for his response, checking as the time passes by. An excruciating fifteen minutes pass, and you come to the conclusion that he might not respond any time soon. As you’re about to give up on the inkblot, you get a notification from him.

josh aka lifesaver: oh hey!! sorry, my pen decided to puke all over itself :p its “formula of the kingdom of ends”!!

__: tysm!! <3

You set down your phone, gracious for his kindness and eventual reply. Before you can get back to your laptop, you feel your phone vibrate next to you.

josh aka lifesaver: alsoooooo, it’s like 2 am

josh aka lifesaver: you should sleep soon :(

God he’s even cute through text. You look at your phone’s digital clock to verify the time. Groaning, you realize you’ve been at this paper for six hours. Maybe if you had better groupmates you could’ve been done hours ago. Alas, the four are nowhere to be found. Looks like you’ll be doing this entire thing on your own.

__: oh shoot!! didn’t even realize the time, been slaving over this paper for hours :// groupmates r mia yet again :p

josh aka lifesaver: did you eat dinner yet?

__: …. yes?

josh aka lifesaver: haha, very believable. there’s this awesome diner by 4th street, wanna come with? been craving their pancakes and you need to fill that empty stomach of yours

And that’s how you find yourself in a diner’s booth at 3 am, dressed in your pyjamas since you were way too tired to even change. You regret this decision though, as you see Joshua enter in a clean button-down and jeans. He looks way too good at ass crack o’clock. His eyes eventually connect with yours and he smiles, walking up to your booth.

“Hey, busy bee. You ready to try the best pancakes of your life? I’ve been going here since I was a freshman, and nothing compares to the god-like fluffy goodness that are their strawberry pancakes”

“Psh, I don’t think anything’ll top the ones my mom makes.”

He grins at you, “You’re about to be proven so so wrong, __.” He waves over at a waitress clad in the '50s-themed neon yellow uniform, and she comes over with a notepad in hand. Recognizing him, she smiles.

“Josh! Welcome back. It’s first time I’ve seen you come in here with someone that isn’t your roommate, is she someone special? She’s a real sight for sore eyes too”, she looks over to you, and you blush. Looking over at your companion, he’s beet red too, but waves away her question.

“Just someone who needed to discover the greatest pancakes on earth. I’ll have the usual strawberry pancakes, and extra powdered sugar, please. Oh! And some OJ too. How about you, __?”.

You forgot to check the menu, but you decide to trust his faith in the diner and go with the same dish.

“I’ll just have the same. But, can I have it with like, your biggest cup of coffee? College’s making me out to be a zombie at this point”. The waitress, whose name is Minnie as proven by her pinned name tag, writes down your orders and walks off, not before letting the both of you know that it’ll take around fifteen minutes for the food. Once she’s gone off to talk to the cook, Joshua turns to you and looks like a giddy little boy.

“I’m serious when I say their pancakes are amazing. The first time I came here was with my roommate Jeonghan, and I’m proud to say they’ve changed my life. That day, I think I had five servings. Even tried making my own version at home, but nothing compares to the original”, he grins even wider, and you feel your stomach rumble from how excited you are for the food to come. Luckily, he doesn’t laugh or anything, he just smiles at you, albeit a bit worried that you haven’t eaten in hours. Minnie comes back with your drinks, and the two of you thank her before she leaves to serve another table.

“How’s Seungkwan, by the way?”, he says, toying with the salt packets by the table. “Haven’t seen or heard from him since his little performance at the party.”

“Same old diva we’ve learned to love. He got into an argument with some kid at the mall because the kid said he should be more quiet in a bookstore. Had to hold him back so the mom wouldn’t come and fight him too. Aside from that though, he’s been doing alright. Just been pestering me to go on dates with his friends since he thinks I’m ‘sweeter when I have a sweetie’”, Joshua laughs, rolling his eyes at Seungkwan’s usual dramatic antics.

“So”, he starts, picking up a sugar packet, “how are the dates going?”

“Oh, I’ve turned down all of them. As much as I love him, I’d rather not be part of one of his little matchmaking schemes. You remember that disastrous date your friend Vernon went on with the girl from the track team?”

He laughs at the memory, “I remember that. She wanted to go on a jogging date and he passed out after like ten minutes of running. Had to pick him up and apologize to the poor girl. Vernon ended up sore for days.”

Laughing, you take a sip of your coffee. “Yep, that’s exactly why I don’t trust Seungkwan’s choice in dates for me.” You take another sip of your coffee.

“So, that means you’re single?” You choke on your drink, coughing on its bitter taste. God, this is embarrassing, you’ve got it dribbling down your chin. Joshua looks at you sympathetically, offering you a sip of water to calm yourself down. Once you’ve settled down, you reply, “sorry about that, but yeah. Why’d you ask?”

He gives you a cheeky grin, then shrugs. “Just wanted to know. How’s the paper going, by the way?’

You groan, “wayyy worse than expected. Groupmates have gone full M.I.A and I’ve decided I’m writing it on my own. Telling my teacher on Monday that I’ll be working solo. Hopefully I can pull out a paper that saves me from retaking the class.”

He hums in response, pausing before he replies. “Well, I’m sure you can do it. You’re a smart person, I believe in you.” He smiles, and you feel your chest warm up. His smile feels like it lit up the entire room. It may be 3 am, and you should be dead asleep from all your work, but there’s something about his support that gives you a refreshing feeling. Before you can continue your conversation, Minnie comes back with your dinner-slash-midnight snack-slash-early breakfast.

“Here’s your order! Even told our chef to hurry it up, since you guys look like you really need something sweet. Looks like Josh’s smile is the only sweet thing you needed, though.” She winks at you and sets down the food before Joshua can even retort. As much as you’d love to keep talking with your (cute) companion, these pancakes look divine, and you’re way too excited to finally fill your belly. It’s fine though, as you look up and he’s already taken a huge bite out of his stack. You laugh at the powdered sugar on the corner of his mouth and finally dig into your food.

Holy shit.

He was right. The pancakes were amazing, undoubtedly better than the ones your mom makes. Sure, she made them with a premade mix and even the school cafeteria’s pancakes would taste better than hers, but your food was, in Joshua’s words, absolutely god-like. Your eyes widen as you feel the flavors dance around on your tongue; the insanely fluffy pancakes, with the thick cream and powdered sugar, all topped with the sweet and slightly tart strawberries. Everything tastes amazing, and you chow down like a man starved. At this moment, it’s just you and your pancakes, until Joshua laughs and catches your attention. You look up at him, and he’s proudly smiling.

“Told you they were good.”

Two more orders of pancakes later, the two of you finally call out for the bill. Watching him bring out his wallet, you shake your head and let him know you’ll pay. He refuses, but you insist.

“Come on, I owe you big time. You saved my ass from ethics, and you saved it again from dying of starvation. Let me pay”, you plead, but he still refuses.

“Hey, it’s a gentleman’s move to pay. Plus, you got me those eclairs, and I’m sure those were overpriced. The cafe’s around school cost an arm and a leg to order from.” He’s right, the eclairs took a pretty painful dent in your broke college student’s wallet, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Josh, seriously I–”

“Nope! I got this. You can just pay the next time we go out.”

Next time? You get giddy at the thought of meeting up with someone so cute another time. You really thought this would be a one time thing, but luckily he thought otherwise. Knowing he won’t let up on paying for your meal, you give in.

“Fine, but! I’ll hold you to that next time.” He puts out a couple of bills and victoriously grins, passing the receipt to Minnie. Once he gets back his change, he stands and offers you a hand.

“Now come on, I’ll walk you home, it’s too late for you to go back to your dorm on your own.”

God, he really is living up to that gentleman title.

The walk home is full of cool air and random conversations. Even with the silent pauses from trying to find new topics, you feel at ease walking next to him. You eventually reach the entrance of your dorm, and you bid each other goodbye and separate ways. Joshua Hong has officially become your lifesaver twice, first with the notes and now with those amazing pancakes. You’ll probably be thinking of them in your sleep. Finally settling in for bed, you feel your phone vibrate.

josh aka lifesaver: you made it home safe?

__: josh

__: you literally dropped me off at the door like ten minutes ago

josh aka lifesaver: hey, who knows? what if there was a psycho killer in the elevator

__: haha very funny. thanks for tonight, btw :) get home safe!

Without waiting for his reply, you finally fall victim to your fluffy bed. It was a long day, and you’re incredibly grateful that it ended with a boy that feels like sunshine.

josh aka lifesaver: no, thank you, __

josh aka lifesaver: i really enjoyed spending time with you :)

josh aka lifesaver: btw, you looked really cute with strawberry sauce on your cheek. i would’ve told you to wipe it off but you just looked so happy

josh aka lifesaver: ahh i’m probably rambling and you’ve already fallen asleep :p good night, __.

It’s been two weeks since you woke up to those messages and giggled like a crazed schoolgirl into your pillow, and eventually, the two of you became constant texting buddies. Even if you completed your presentation for ethics (got a 100 by the way! your ex-groupmates, on the other hand, got the longest lecture of their lives and had to retake the class), the two of you continued to talk. This led to the two of you getting closer, and your feelings growing even bigger. At this point, you weren’t sure what exactly the two of you were, because you clearly weren’t just friends with how often flirtatious comments were thrown into the conversations, but you weren’t dating either. It was an awkward and undiscussed grey area, and you were way too shy to ask him. Regardless, you enjoyed your conversations with him, and they made your days a bit better. Plus, you guys went to the diner more often. Those pancakes really are life changing, and at this point, you have whipped cream flowing in your blood. Minnie even makes sure to have your usual booth open at night because she knows the two of you like to come at that time.

The two of you would talk about anything under the sun, ranging from complaining about the painful life of a university student, down to the mundane moments in your days. Even now, as you’re waiting for your food at a cafe with Seungkwan (it’s his apology for not treating you to Mcdonald’s after that party), you’re still updating Josh on your life.

__: at a cafe w seungkwan rn, we’re meeting up with one of his friends

josh aka lifesaver: he isn’t setting you up with someone again, is he?

__: nope, he’s just given up on it completely. he just wanted me to come with him as an “i’m sorry for belting love on top and puking on your favorite top”

josh aka lifesaver: ok good

josh aka lifesaver: tell him i say hi !!

“Josh says hi”, you say, much too engrossed with your phone to look at your friend. What’d he mean by “good”? Was he happy that you weren’t getting set up with one of Seungkwan’s friends? You seriously need to figure out what’s going on with the two of you, and soon.

“Well hello to him too”, an unfamiliar voice says, and you realize Seungkwan’s friend has arrived. Looking at the boy, you realize you’ve seen him somewhere before. You’ve never interacted him, but there’s something about him that seems familiar. Trying to rack your brain of where you’ve seen this stranger before, the realization suddenly dawns on you. Isn’t this Joshua’s roommate, Jeonghan? You’ve seen pictures of him from Josh, and you realize it really is him. He may not have the blonde hair like in Josh’s photos, replaced with a burgundy shade of red, but it is him.

“Sorry about __, she’s been on her phone 24/7 talking to your roommate”, Seungkwan says with a roll of his eyes. “She even faceplanted into the wall the other day since she was too distracted with his ranking of all the Studio Ghibli movies. Absolutely whipped, I tell you.” Blushing, you try your hardest to defend yourself and have the slightest shred of dignity left in front of Seungkwan’s friend.

“Hey!”, you exclaim, “I wasn’t distracted by his texts, I was distracted by your loud ass trying to hold a high note competition with Seokmin. Thought a dolphin went loose or something.” As hard as you try to refute Seungkwan’s claims, you only fall on deaf ears.

Jeonghan laughs, “oh please, Josh’s been way worse. __, if you think you’re bad, you should see him plan the messages he sends you. Don’t tell him I told you this, but it took him like twenty minutes to send you a message after your cute little diner date.” At this, you hear Seungkwan hum in interest.

Damn it, you were keeping your little pancake run a secret from him, knowing that the teasing you got from him would multiply tenfold, since he’d jump to conclusions and assume the diner trip was romantic in nature. And to be completely honest, you weren’t sure if it was.

“Ooooh, is my little __ going on dates?”, he coos, and you wish your seat could eat you whole right now. Looking over at Jeonghan for help, you realize it’s useless as he begins to put in his own ooohs and ahhs to heighten Seungkwan’s teasing. You can feel your face burn into a crimson red, and you tell them to shush before anyone else can hear your conversation. It’s probably too late for that though, since sometimes it feels like Seungkwan was born with a megaphone in his throat.

“Listen, you crazed cupids”, you say with a hushed tone, hoping your company could quiet down, “he just wanted someone to come with him to his favorite diner. I was already texting him before that about the notes he gave me for my ethics class. It was just an in-the-moment situation, you know?” At that, Jeonghan furrows his brows.

“__, okay, first of all, I was awake and with him at that time, and I’ve been his original diner buddy since we enrolled in college. He refuses to bring anyone else because he gatekeeps those pancakes from everyone, our other close friends included. The diner’s off limits, even to Vernon. That means he thinks you’re special enough to bring to his favorite place”, he teases with smug look. “Second, and more confusing, where the hell did he get notes for ethics? I’ve memorized all of his class schedules like the back of my hand, and he’s never taken any ethics class.”

Tilting your head like a confused puppy, you dig into the topic further. “But, he told me he took it last semester. He even taught me some stuff I didn’t get. Are you sure he never took ethics?”

Shrugging, Jeonghan is confident his roommate never took the class. “Trust me, he’s literally a computer science major. Why would he need to learn about ethics?”

… Huh.

Now that you think of it, why the hell would a science major take ethics? Where’d he even get those notes from, and why would he lie to you? He said he took the class, and with his knowledge on the subject, it was believable. Before you could continue your little interrogation, you realize the two boys with you have moved past the conversation, talking about their plans for the week.

You jump in, but the thought of Joshua lying to you stays in the back of your head. You’ll deal with this later. In the meantime, you listen to Jeonghan rant about the pains of being an environmental science student (“I had a bug jump straight into my mouth last Tuesday. Jeonghan - 0, nature - 1”).

It’s 10pm now, and you’re home from brunch with the two boys. What Jeonghan said still lingers in your mind, and it’s time to get down to why the hell Joshua lied to you about taking ethics. Taking out your phone, you smile at your lockscreen. It’s a selfie you and Joshua took at the diner, and he’s got whipped cream on the tip of his nose. You remember teasing him about it before wiping it off with your finger and swiping it into your mouth. What followed was his face a shocking red, stuttering from your actions. You look back at that memory as one of your most favorite ones with him. Once you got your phone unlocked, you go straight to messaging him

__: hey josh!!

__: wanna go to the diner tonight? my treat :D just wanted to ask you about smth

josh aka lifesaver: dont even care about what you’re gonna ask me, you could ask me to kill seungkwan and i’d do it with no hesitation if it means free strawberry pancakes

Shaking your head at his adorable excitement, you put on your jacket to head out.

Arriving at the diner, you find him in your usual booth, with the two familiar stacks of pancakes on the table. You smile at Minnie on the way before taking your seat. Once sat down, Joshua grins at you.

“Hey, __. Is everything okay? You look like you’ve got a lot up in your head.” As usual, Joshua is ever the gentleman. Even if he has a smudge of whipped cream on his mouth, you still find yourself swooning at how sweet he is for immediately noticing that you’ve been bothered by your thoughts (even if he caused said thoughts).

“Hey Josh. Thanks for ordering for us. I just wanted to ask you something…”, you trail off. You have no idea how to ask him about his lie. You’re stuck awkwardly fumbling with what to say next, unsure how to go about this. Suddenly, his eyes widen. Setting down his fork, he looks at you worriedly.

“Oh my god, __. Do you…”, he lowers his voice, “do you actually want me to kill Seungkwan? I was joking about the whole ‘no hesitation’ thing! I know he can be a bit much but I don’t think we can kill him.”

The poor boy looks so scared, and you shake your head with confusion.

“What? No!” Josh sighs in relief.

“Oh thank god, I thought he did something.” You shake your head. “So, what’d you want to ask me then? As much as I love going on these pancake dinners with you, I’m getting a bit worried on why you called me over.”

Here it goes, time to ask him why he lied about taking Ethics. Taking a deep breath, you start.

“So, it turns out Seungkwan’s friend that we met up with earlier was your roommate, Jeonghan.” He attentively looks at you, nodding as a queue for you to continue.

“We were talking about how I got to know you, and I brought up ethics and how you saved my ass from that awful final presentation, and Jeonghan told me you never took ethics. Care to explain?” As you speak, his face gradually becomes violently red.

“Oh… cat’s out of the bag, I guess”, he admits. Still confused, you let him continue.

“It’s just”, he starts, “I found you so cute during that party and if it wasn’t for Vernon being too drunk to not notice his name was put into that seven minutes in heaven game, I would’ve asked you out.” Blushing at his confession, you’re still confused. What did that have to do with him lying about taking up Ethics? Realizing you’re still lost, he continues with a rushed tone.

“Okay, so, when I got back from helping Vernon, you were already on your way out with Seungkwan and I never got to ask for your number. I asked everyone else at the party if they had your number but they all said I should just ask Seungkwan for it but I’d rather die because he would do that weird eyebrow wiggle thing and try to set us up but I really wanted to ask you out myself”, gasping for air for a second, he continues.

“So when I saw you looking all stressed over your paper in Ethics – you looked super cute by the way, I thought ‘oh! this is my chance to ask for your number.’ But then I thought, ‘shoot, I never took ethics’ but I know my friend Seungcheol did so after you left I had to beg him for his notes but when he gave them to me they were super messy and I didn’t want you to get his scribbled, unreadable mess, so I spent that night rewriting all of his notes and that was so hard because I really couldn’t read most of it, which is why there was a huge ink scribble on the notes. I couldn’t understand what he wrote so I just put that, but then you asked me the next day about what it said so I had to call him for help. It took us forever to get it but we did, and that’s pretty much it. It was worth it in the end, though, because I got your number and we got to know each other better and now what I’m trying to say is that I’ve come to really like you, and I hope you aren’t mad at me for lying to you”, he finishes, looking like a big flustered mess with how much he’s blushing and gasping for air after that long spiel.

You laugh, and he worriedly looks at you.

“Josh, you mean to tell me… you went through all that just to get my number?” He looks at you, embarrassed and with a sheepish smile.

“Yes…?” He says with a shrug, still beet red.

Joshua Hong, you really are the cutest person I’ve ever met.

You laugh again, thinking about how much this poor boy did just so he could talk to you. It’s flattering, honestly. He takes your laughter as something wrong, however, and begins to panic.

“__, I’m so sorry for lying and if that means you want to stop talking to me then–”

“No!”, you interject, “no, I was just laughing at how cute you were and how obscene this entire situation is. I’m not mad, I swear. If anything, I think what you did made me like you even more.” He looks at you as if you just grew two heads, and upon your words dawning upon him, he dons a smile that stretches from ear to ear.

“Oh thank god. But also, you like me?” Oops, looks like you let your tongue slip a bit. “Because I like you too, if that’s not obvious yet. I really, really like you”, he says, making sure to add extra emphasis on the “really”. At this point, the two of you are blushing hard, and it’s too late to take back what you said. Anyway, it’s not like you don’t like him. It’s far from that, actually.

“Yes, I know you like me, you told me earlier”, you joke, “and yes, I do like you, Joshua Hong.” You thought the boy couldn’t get any redder, but here he is, rivaling the bright strawberries on your plates. He’s smiling even wider than before, and to your confusion, he suddenly calls over Minnie.

“Minnie, please tell everyone here that I’ll be paying for their meals. I’m celebrating me and __ getting together. Oh! And one more order of pancakes for us, please. Is there any way you guys could write ‘congrats on achieving your ultimate dream’ on the plate? I think this is the best day of my life.”

Shaking your head, you smile at him. Even with how intense he is right now, this is the best day of your life, too. Who knew that the worst subject on earth would lead you to where to dating a boy as sweet as those god-like strawberry pancakes?

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garagebandvanfleet · 3 years ago

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So My Darling

Pairing: Danny x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE, swearing, alcohol consumption, choking, role play?, sir kink, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: You get stood up on Valentine’s Day and a handsome stranger wants to show you a good time.

Notes: Part two of my lil V-day series. This was my favorite one to write, the ending makes me so soft and I’m low key proud of it. Romantic song that made me think of Danny while writing this.

You swirled the wine around the glass, pointer finger and thumb pinching the stem. You sighed loudly before checking the time on your phone. He was 30 minutes late, no phone call or text to let you know why he was late. It was decided that you wouldn’t spend Valentine’s Day alone, instead getting on a dating app and asking the least creepy-looking guy if he’d like to meet for drinks. As you glanced at your phone one more time, you decided to give him 5 more minutes before you went home to watch shitty romance movies and swear off the male population.

“Excuse me.” A voice to your left brought you out of your angered thoughts. “I couldn’t help but notice you sitting here all by yourself, and I just have to say it should be a crime that someone as beautiful as you isn’t being kept company.” You laughed loudly at his cheesy excuse to talk to you.

You hadn’t looked away from your drink, the usual attendees of this bar consisted of mostly middle-aged men who were in miserable marriages looking to hit on someone who wasn’t their spouse, but it was the closest one to your place. “Well, what can I say, some men suck.”

He laughed at your comment. “I can’t argue that. I’m Danny, and I’d like to think I’m not like those men you’re referring to.” You had to refrain from rolling your eyes, he was laying it on thick.

You finally turned to look at the man adamant about gaining your attention, if this were a cartoon your eyes would be in the shape of hearts when seeing him. He was the closest thing to a Greek God you’d seen in real life. His dark curls framed his chiseled face, high cheekbones and sharp jawline. His brown puppy dog eyes shone under the dim lighting in the bar and his lips spread over his teeth in a bright smile.

“Y’know, most men who say they aren’t shitty - are usually the shitty ones.” Part of you wanted to completely disregard the cold demeanor you had started the conversation with, but you didn’t want to cave in so easily. “But, my original plans fell through so I’ll give you a chance to prove it.” You motioned for him to sit next to you, removing your jacket from the back of the chair that signaled you were waiting for someone.

“I’m Y/N by the way.”

You unlocked your front door, flicking on the hall light and throwing your keys in the bowl that acted as a catchall. Danny followed behind you, admiring the various photos and art that decorated your walls.

“Who’s this?” He asked as he pointed at one of the framed photos.

“Just a friend, met him a long time ago at a concert.” You shrugged casually, not seeing the relevance of the topic.

“He plays the drums, cool guy.”

“Yeah I guess. Listen I know everyone says this but, I don’t usually do this. I’m more of a ‘awkward hug goodbye’ after a first date.” You weren’t lying, being bold enough to bring a guy back to your place knowing it was only for sex wasn’t something you did often - if ever.

“Oh, so that was our first date?” You blushed when you realized what you had said.

“I mean I thought so, but-” He cut you off before you could continue, his lips connecting with yours.

“Good to know.” He mumbled against your lips before continuing to kiss you. It felt familiar, like your lips have touched a thousand times before right now. He moved your bodies until you back hit the wall, gasping as the thin material of your dress did little to protect you from the cool temperature of the wall. Danny’s hands pinned your wrists above your head and began trailing his lips down your neck.

“Keep them there.” He mumbled, biting at the skin behind your ear.

“Yes sir.” You giggled, the drinks from the bar made you feel giggly and gave you a sense of confidence. He stopped all movements just then, pulling his head away from your neck to look into your eyes.

“Darling, don’t start something you can’t finish.” His pupils were dilated, limiting the view of his honey colored irises. The flush of his cheeks and heavy rise and fall of his chest gave away how much your words had affected him.

You removed one of your hands from the wall and ran your pointer finger delicately over his jaw, completely forgetting of his earlier demand. “Who said I won’t be able to finish this?”

The smirk that spread across his face is what had the realization of your mistake coming to the forefront of your mind. You didn’t have time to apologize before his left hand grabbed your disobedient hand, slamming it back into palace as his right hand wrapped around your throat - applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult and have your eyes rolling back.

“Last time I checked, I told you to keep your hands against the wall. Do I have to remind you again?” His breath was warm as he pressed his nose against your cheek, the slight scent of beer lingering on his breath.

“No, Sir.” This time no giggled followed the title, no longer finding it funny but instead extremely hot. You found yourself unconsciously rubbing your thighs together, attempting to get any type of relief from the tension Danny had caused.

He noticed your movements, thighs brushing against his, and made quick work dropping to his knees. Danny began running his hands over your legs, up the back of your calves, over your knees and up the inside of your thighs. Before he could continue, you reached down to remove his shirt, tucking a few curls behind his ear and away from his face. He smiled at you appreciatively, placing a quick peck on the top of both of your thighs. Danny brought your right leg up and allowed your thigh to rest on his shoulder. “If you’re uncomfortable with anything, tell me okay?”

The blood flow to your fingers was all but nonexistent, fingertips feeling fuzzy, and even with the support of Danny’s strong shoulder holding your thigh up you felt off balance. But the idea of his face buried between your legs was too gret of a want to care about anything else. “Okay.” You breathed, tilting your head to look up at the ceiling in anticipation.

He nipped at the inside of your thighs before removing your thigh from his shoulder. His warm fingers brushed against the hem of your panties, pulling them down in one swift motion. After you kicked them away he put your leg back in its previous position. No time was wasted as he ran his tongue up your slit, stopping to suck on your clit.

Your moans echoed throughout the hall as he continued to nip and suck at your clit. When he entered two fingers in you pussy the urge to tangle your fingers in his hair and push his face deeper into you became overwhelming, finger twitching with want. Danny looked up through his eyelashes, seeing you fight the urge to go against his command. He hummed against your clit, both proud of you for listening to him and smug at the fact he had you falling apart so quickly.

When he hooked his two fingers, grazing your sweet spot, you felt the leg holding your weight start to shake. “Danny, I can’t. Please-” Your words were cut off by a moan when he added a third finger. He pulled his mouth from your clit just long enough to speak. “It’s okay, Darling. You can move.” Your fingers instantly tangled around his curls as you began to roll your hips against his face.

“Thank you, Sir.” The pit in your stomach grew with each flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers. When he felt your walls clench around his fingers he held your hips with his forearm, effectively pinning you against the wall. With a high pitched moan and blurry vision you came on his fingers, throwing your head back against the wall. You’d deal with the headache that was certainly going to give you later.

Danny removed his fingers from you, sucking them into his mouth before trailing kisses up your body as his hands removed your dress to expose a new expanse of skin he could press kisses to. Your dress now laying on the floor with his shirt, he brought you into a deep kiss with a hand on the back of your neck. You could taste yourself on his tongue, surprised it didn’t turn you off like you expected. With your lips still connected, you began to lead him towards the bedroom - relying solely on muscle memory.

Danny’s hands ran along either side of the walls, attempting to make sure neither of you ran into anything. When one of his hands bumped into a frame, it fell off the hook, landing on the ground as the glass broke. “You’re cleaning that up later.” You mumbled, smiling against his lips.

“Gladly.” His own lips turned up into a smile.

Finally making it to your bedroom, you broke the kiss to remove your bra, Danny removing his jeans and boxers. You took a moment to calm your breathing, admiring Danny in the moonlight shining through the window. “You’re beautiful.” You murmured, running your hands over his chest.

“Thought that was my line.” He hummed, hand coming up to caress your face. The softness of the moment ruined as you reached down, wrapping your hand around his cock and began stroking. His groan rumbled deep in his chest, vibrating the hand that was still placed over his heart.

His hands moved down your back, squeezing your ass as you continued to pump your hand. A light swat to you ass was all the warning he gave you before lifting you up by the back of your thighs. You giggled when he threw you onto the bed, flexing his biceps before joining you in your laughter.

The bed dipped as he moved between your legs, wrapping them around his hips. His lips were back on yours, feeling him rub the tip of his cock through your folds. When he pushed into you, you couldn’t help but sink your teeth into his lower lip. Danny hissed, pinching your nipple as a warning. His pace was quick, hips snapping against your body forcefully. And while you loved him being rough, you knew neither of you would last long if he kept his current pace.

“Danny, baby, no need to rush.” Your fingers smoothed out the furrow of his eyebrows.

“Right. Sorry, Darling.” He slowed his hips, elongating each thrust making him hit deeper inside of you. You realized no matter what Danny did, your second orgasm of the night was approaching quickly.

Red scratch marks decorated Danny’s back, starting at his shoulders and ending just before the curve of his ass. You gasped loudly when he changed the angle of his hips, his tip now grazing your sweet spot with each thrust. “Fuck, Darling. You keep clenching around me like that and I’m gonna cum.” He nipped at your neck, light enough to not leave any marks.

“Can’t help it, you’ve got a magical dick.” His hips ceased their movements as you both laughed. He kissed the tip of your nose before beginning to move inside you again. His thumb rubbed your clit to aide in the pleasure. Not having to be concerned with the volume of your noises, you didn’t stop the whines leaving your mouth.

“Wanna feel you cum, Darling. Can you do that for me?”

“Yes, Sir.” You wanted to say more, tell Danny how much you wanted him to send you over the edge and to have him go with you, but your mind was fuzzy from the pleasure. By the way his eyes screwed shut, your few words had done a good enough job.

Four more thrusts, that’s all it took for you to feel the coil in your stomach snap. Your walls clenched around his cock, bring him to his orgasm and he filled your pussy with his cum. When you both finally caught your break, limbs sticking together with sweat, you both began laughing.

“Well, I think we can add role play to the list of things to do again.” Danny pulled out of you, flopping down on his back as he grabbed two circles from your nightstand - handing you yours. The two of you slipped your wedding rings back on your respective fingers.

You rolled on your side, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Wanna take a bath?”

Danny seemed to ponder your question. “Soapy naked wife? I’m in.” He pulled your body on top of his, making sure he had a secure grip on your waist before standing from the bed to make his way towards your shared bathroom.

“Hey before I forget, what time do we have to pick the kids up from your mom’s tomorrow?” You asked as you grabbed two fluffy white towels from the linen closest, Danny drawing the bath.

“She’s going to take them to school, so we don’t have to worry about it.” You sunk into the warm water, letting the bubbles cover your body. When Danny went to get in, you stopped him, earning you a confused look from your husband.

“You have glass to clean up. Then you get a bath.”

“That’s what you were thinking about the whole time wasn’t it?”

You shrugged, giving him a sheepish smile. “Not the whole time…I love you!” You called out as Danny made his way to clean up the broken glass.

“Yeah, yeah I love you too.”

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #danny wagner fic #greta van fleet imagine #danny wagner #danny x reader #danny gvf #gvf one shot #gvf fic #danny wagner smut #greta van fleet smut #gvf imagine

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sunfish-studies · 3 years ago

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Period Lecture

✄・・・ Crisp Leaves [Aoba Johsai Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Aoba Johsai x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: period, mentions of bleeding, mentions of cramps

➜ Notes: Manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm.

↷ SUMMARY ↶

You’re kind of grateful and proud all of them for taking this… rather seriously?

As a manager, re-stocking the team’s needs is one of your duties–which means, when the school’s monthly allowance come it’s time for you to go on a short trip to the supermarket and sport’s supplies shop while bringing a grocery list.

This is also a way to unwind from the suffocating gym–slightly refreshing relief rather than just being cooped up in one place. Usually, there were you and another member tag along in case the groceries piled up and it was impossible being carried alone. Sometimes, Coach Irihata let the whole team tag along just so they didn’t get too bored.

Shopping trips were also a great moment for you to buy anything you need with your own allowance, of course. It’s like killing two birds with one stone.

“This is kind of the place men usually avoid as much as possible,” you commented, before snorting in amusement. “I’m surprised you tailed me here without hesitation.

All you said was true–your boys did follow you even until you stood in front of a high shelve filled with womanly needs. Yes, you’re talking about sanitary pads for monthly period routine.

“We kind of want to know somethings,” Matsukawa didn’t even pull out his punches. “And if we know maybe we can help you in some way.”

“True, true!” Oikawa agreed, pulling out a sanitary package of 12–eyeing it nervously. “Still, I didn’t know the brands are this many…”

“I thought you’re used to this from your previous girlfriends,” Iwaizumi deadpanned.

“Well, I’ll try to explain as easy as possible, so ask away,” you remarked, reaching out for your usual brand and dumping it into the grocery cart. Since the stock at home was already diminishing, you need to piled it up again, so you bought quite a many.

“Uhm, why are there wings and non-wings…?” Hanamaki frowned, staring at the packaging with bold letters ‘with wings’ on it. “What’s the difference?”

“The ‘wings’ means extra material right here,” you answered, pointing out to the sheets on the sides of the pad. “It will fold over the edges so the pad will stay securely in place. Extra prevention for possible leaks.”

“And the s-size are so many…” Kindaichi stuttered. It was true, though. A few packages were in 29 cm, and gradually the size increased from 35 cm even to 42 cm.

“We have heavy duty days,” you explained. “So, instead of wearing the short-regular ones, we opted for the long ones so we don’t to worry too much about leaking. Usually, the ones that extremely long are the night-pads.”

And there went you explaining many things to them in the end–about it would be better to wear pads which has no scent as precautions to allergies, about the ‘day’ and ‘night’ types, and possibly anything they had their curiosity on.

It’s kind of endearing on how they were eager to learn, good for their future significant other–they care enough to prepare for the future and not embarrassed themselves in some way from the lack of knowledge.

There were even girls and older women whispering about how precious your boys are for wanting to know. It made you proud in having such responsible people around.

“Do you have cramps at around the time of the month, senpai?” Kunimi questioned–once you got everything you need, he volunteered to help you in carrying the heavy plastic bags. Now, all of you were on your way back to school.

“I do,” you answered, sighing when you remembered the natural pain that always accompanying your period. “Remember when I don’t show up for at least a day or two every month? It’s because of cramps. It’s torturing, you literally had your insides being smushed together.”

Yahaba went pale in just a matter of seconds. “Just thinking about it already makes my stomach hurts…”

“How do you handle it, senpai?” Watari asked, which made you hummed in wonder.

“Most important will be having a nice hot compress.” You remarked. “It can either be anything as long as it’s warm. It lessened the pain, and if you couldn’t handle the pain even with hot compress you can drink pain relief medicine.”

“Tylenol, Paracetamol, Mefinal,” to your surprise, Kyotani was the one listing the pain relief medicine.

“You know a lot, Kyotani-kun!” you praised the blonde-haired boy. “I’m impressed!”

“My sister always kicked me out to buy one of those.” He replied gruffly.

“Does food really help?” Oikawa piped up. “My previous girlfriends always asked for snacks or drinks.”

“Sometimes, depending on the person,” you said, laughing nervously. “I’m not too eager to eat especially when I have cramps, but sometimes I craved chocolates, sweets, or even savory things just to indulge my hormone fluctuations.”

And that’s how your lecture went, and what surprised you the most was how it definitely being branded onto their mind.

Amazingly, Iwaizumi had the period tracker app in his phone and even asked the date so he could prepare (this man is just truly impressive-).

Oikawa would stop by in your class to drop small chocolate snacks or sweets just for you during your week of bleeding–wanting you to be comfortable as possible.

Your friend from another class almost went head over heels for Matsukawa because he had pads in his school bag when she’s desperately searching for one. Matsukawa mentioned that he wanted to be prepared because of their manager.

Hanamaki didn’t even hesitate to do errands for you if you asked him–he’s just a call away he said, and wouldn’t shy away if you nervously asked if he could buy you your brand of pads in the supermarket.

Kyotani had his medicine ready anytime, if your cramps acted up he immediately shoved them to your hand along with warm lemon tea he fetched from the vending machine.

Kindaichi and Kunimi constantly checked if you’re feeling well or not during practice, urging you to drink often and even pushing some sweets so you wouldn’t be too sluggish.

Yahaba offered to bring you your bag or even taking over the duty of filling water bottles just so you could sit down and not moving too much.

Meanwhile, Watari made sure to had at least one hot pack in his bag–if he noticed you wincing from pain, he instantly went to your side and gave you the hot pack to relief the pain.

When you’re out of duty because of intense cramps, the team stopped by at your house after practice–bringing along all of your favorite food, scented candles, or even anything that could lift your mood up.

Oh, you truly love your boys down to the very core.

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lacheri · 4 years ago

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follow me

I do not consent or allow this to be posted on Tik Tok, or any other social media

pairing: switch!Eren and switch!fem bodied reader

content: college au, OnlyFans/sex work, masturbation (m), praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), squirting, penetrative sex, drug and alcohol use, classic college party, Eren is down horrendously bad, I believe in long haired Eren supremacy, minors DNI

summary: when jean finally convinces eren to crawl out from under his rock to join society on instagram, he finds there’s a whole lot more than just pictures of food. there’s you.

wc: 15.4k (I know it’s a long one, hope you enjoy tho)

Eren Jaeger had recently found himself in a very, very deep hole. It all started innocently, when one of his best friends Jean had convinced Eren to crawl out of his hole and create an Instagram to join society.

“C’mon Eren,” Jean had teased over a week ago as they studied out on the lawn of their school. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on. No one even uses Facebook anymore, it’s all for moms who want to brag about little Timmy’s genius for figuring out one plus one equals two.”

“What do you even do on Instagram?” Eren’s brows knitted together in confusion, Jean whipping his phone out to show Eren exactly how to use it.

“You post pictures,” Jean navigated to his profile, tapping and sliding down to show Eren all of Jean’s shameless selfies.

“Of just yourself?” he breathed, not comprehending the appeal at all. Don’t people look at his face enough?

“Well, you can post anything you want, that’s the beauty of it. Plus, when you’re not doing that, you get to see and like other people’s pictures.”

“But it says here you follow, 1,536 accounts? And you have 5,000 following you back?” Eren asked incredulously, surprised about how popular his friend’s online persona was. “How do you even know that many people?”

“You don’t,” Jean shrugged, making a few taps to his home page as posts began to load up. “Celebrities have Instagram, our friends have Instagram, fuck, every attractive person on the entire planet has one.”

“How do you even find these people?” Eren’s questioning never seemed to end, the concept out of his comprehension. Facebook was one thing, he personally knew every single one of his friends and family there, and honestly he really enjoyed people just talking about their day to day ordeals.

That’s when Jean forced Eren to hand his phone over and download the app. Jean snapped a quick picture of Eren, to which Eren had no reaction time to. Before he could protest, Jean had already uploaded the candid with some random song lyrics as the caption. To be honest with himself, Eren had to admit that Jean had taken a very flattering picture. He had his knee brought to his chest while his arm dangled over, back slumped and relaxed while he sat on the blanket they had set down before lounging there, hair in his signature sloppy man bun. It was mid day, so all the shadows casted behind his body as the sun’s rays illuminated every high point and contrast of his stoic face.

After a few follow backs from his friends, Armin and Mikasa, he had accumulated a few dozen likes, and Eren couldn’t help the feelings of instant gratifications wash over him, “Okay? So, now what?”

“Now,” Jean began to instruct him, putting the phone back in Eren’s hands after showing him the basics of social media. “Go to my page, and start following whoever you want from my following list. There’s some really hot girls.”

And when Eren laid in his dorm bed that night by himself, he did just that. He really didn’t want to give Jean the satisfaction of showing him who he followed, or why he decided to. His finger scrolled and scrolled through the following list on Jean’s Instagram, hitting the follow button on a few bands he really enjoyed. But then, his hand stopped at one username in particular. The avatar showed a pretty girl, smiling brightly into the camera, sun’s golden rays blooming behind her hair.

Eren tapped on the username, and the first thing he took note of was the bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas and rock and roll’, he had to smirk at that, what a simple sentence to sum yourself up with. His eyes flickered to the link in her bio, titled, OnlyFans. He titled his head, Jean hadn’t mentioned what OnlyFans was? Did everyone have an OnlyFans too, like Instagram? He tapped on the highlighted link to be met with a page of prices. What the fuck was so exclusive about it that he had to pay ten dollars for a single picture? As he scrolled down a bit more, he noticed the pricing rising to the final payment cost.

“200 dollars for a personal Snapchat and to talk to me every day?” he read aloud, mouth open in disgust. “What the fuck is this?”

He hit the done option in the upper left corner, returning to the Instagram page in question. He tapped on the first photo, the girl’s back facing the camera, completely bare as her hair trickled down the center. She was sitting in a pretty pink bath, floating flowers all around, staring out a window, captioned, ‘wishing you were here’. His gaze lingered on the dips of her waist, before scrolling down to see the girl in some more clothing. This one was a much prettier picture, glasses set on the brim of her nose while she sat comfortably at a wooden table in a library. She stared directly into the camera, a pretty smile on her face while her hands sat perched under her chin. Some books were open on the table, and Eren took note of the quilted skirt peeking out from the under the bottom, her knees tightly crossed. ‘finals week is going to be the death of me, thank the universe for coffee’.

Eren back tracked out of the photo after double tapping, trying to drink in a comprehensive idea of what exactly people were paying so much money to see. He scrolled, and landed on his answer. The girl sat on a stool, phone angled in the mirror to take in her frame, wearing nothing but black lingerie and heels with a smirk on her face, the caption simply, ‘follow me on OnlyFans, link in bio’.

‘Hey Jean, what’s OnlyFans?’ Eren typed a quick text to his now mentor, patiently waiting as three bubbles appeared from his friend’s end.

‘Lol I see what you’re using Instagram for now, Jaeger’, was Jean’s only reply, and Eren could feel himself getting frustrated. Before he could type back an angry text, those bubbles popped up once again. ‘It’s basically porn, you pay for people’s pictures and videos’.

‘Why would someone want to do that? It’s free almost everywhere else’.

‘Because, young grasshopper, girls are hot and I’m trynna see some titties’.

Eren rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. Deducing that Jean was obviously one of these paying customers, Eren felt a little more secure in himself as he tapped the follow button on the girl’s page. What he wasn’t expecting though was a notification informing him she had followed back, followed quickly by another one liking his only post. Eren couldn’t hold back a blush, heart thumping in his chest. Did this girl think he was good looking?

The thought didn’t sit for long as yet another notification popped up, this time a comment. The girl had simply put a heart eyed emoji, followed by a fire emoji. Eren retreated in haste back to her profile, analyzing every picture and caption.

That had been a month ago, and now Eren had a full blown addiction to the website, more specifically her Instagram. Eren was even paying for her OnlyFans now, making excuses that the money he spent would be used for coffees and lunches anyhow, and he really had to nip his caffeine addiction in the butt so he might as well spend his cash on her.

She had just posted a photoset, one of many on her page, completely naked aside from a gold necklace adorned on her neck, a simple initial of ‘E’ rested prettily on her collarbone. It was like she knew Eren was devouring her social medias on a daily basis. It was all for him, Eren had concluded. There was no coincidence that she had followed and liked his own page, it was all fate and meant to be. Eren had figured out how to DM someone, thanks to Jean showing him how to during one of their classes, and he had taken full advantage of the girl’s inbox. Unfortunately with no reply or read receipt to even prove she had received his messages, introducing himself and showering the girl with compliments. Oh, Eren was down bad. He even brought himself to pay out the $50 tier on her OnlyFans for the month, tired of entering his card information for every daily post.

His dick twitched hard as he drank in her form, curvaceous and beautiful and feminine. It wasn’t even like he just wanted to fuck her either, if he needed relief like that he’d just hit up one of the handful of girls he had saved in his contacts. Eren Jaeger wanted to take this girl out on a fucking date. They had so much in common, they were practically soulmates. She liked and followed all the same bands Eren did, posted on her stories all about her favorite foods and her zodiac sign. While he didn’t really believe in that shit, his Google search history of checking if Aries was compatible spoke to something completely different.

And then Eren began noticing something. How the library she frequently posted pictures in was the same library on campus. All the restaurants she went to were in an hour radius of him, half of them being his usual hangout spots. She lived locally, which thoroughly surprised him. Had he seen her around before? No, definitely not, he would’ve definitely remembered her pretty face. None of the girls that he knew looked like her, and if Eren didn’t know what a woman’s body felt like, he would’ve sworn her body was made of plastic.

Eren was practically an expert at Instagram now, and had plenty of opportunities to follow other beautiful women, but he chose not to. He felt guilty one night as he maneuvered through another pretty girl’s pictures, quickly retreating back to the comfort of his favorite girl’s instead. This was one of the reasons Eren had fought getting online for so long, whenever he found something he liked, he got obsessive.

His attention was drawn back to her naked photos, and he slipped his hand under the fabric of his sweatpants as he began to fuck his fist to her pretty image. All for him, he panted as he imagined what she would look like in front of him, beautiful and begging for his touch.

“Thank you so much,” you smiled graciously at the Starbucks employee in front of you, taking your large iced coffee from his hands.

“No problem, have a great day!”

You tossed your hair behind your shoulder as you turned around, the smile still vibrant on your face. Today was a good day, you decided almost as soon as you woke up. After studying for finals for nearly two weeks straight, you finally had a day off to enjoy yourself. Your best friend, Sasha, had convinced you to go on a small shopping day with her. You eagerly agreed that morning, toothbrush forgotten in between your teeth as your fingers rapidly tapped away to schedule a time. You were running out of sexy outfits for your OnlyFans content, and frankly, you really need some new summer clothes. Spring was drawing to a close, and you couldn’t just wear hoodies and leggings all year round, no matter how much you wanted to.

The mall was about two blocks away from the Starbucks, and as you chugged down your coffee, you slid your phone out of your back pocket of your jeans to see multiple notifications from Instagram. Just more people liking your posts, and some DMs, but you just rolled your eyes. You got tired of explaining on your stories that they were broken, and Instagram had no intent on trying to adjust it so you’d be able to view your messages and reply. You sighed, slipping it back into your pocket as you made your way through the entrance of the shopping mall.

Sasha was seated at a table in the cafeteria near the entrance you had just walked through. She jumped out of her seat, a wide smile on her lips as she strutted up to your form.

“You ate without me?” you pouted, smelling the leftover scent of pizza wash over you.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m still hungry,” Sasha waved her hand. This girl had the fastest metabolism of a person you had ever met, so her statement didn’t really phase you.

“Okay, so, before I spend all my money and forget, we have to go to the lingerie shop,” you stated, stomping your way to the escalators.

“I’m guessing your OnlyFans is doing good?” she asked, knowing just how expensive this certain store was as she lingered behind you.

“Dude, you literally wouldn’t believe it,” you sighed dreamily. “If I had known how much money I’d be making, I would’ve done it way sooner. You should seriously consider making your own.”

“Nah, I’ll just let you have the spotlight on this one,” she snickered as the both of you stepped on the moving staircase. “Are they all creepy old men?”

“No, surprisingly, there’s a few people I have classes with that follow me,” you gossiped. “You know Jean from economics?”

Sasha nodded, eyes widening, “No fucking way, he’s my friend! I’m not that surprised though, he’s always talking to girls and asking for their Instagrams.”

“He’s never even talked to me, right? But he buys every single post I put out! Which is crazy, considering it’d just be cheaper for him to buy the subscription,” you shrugged, stepping off the escalator and walking shortly afterwards into the lingerie store. “That’s what most my viewers do, anyways.”

“Seen anyone else interesting?” Sasha hummed, eyeing the various garments surrounding her in intrigue.

Your eyes honed in on a strappy bright red one piece, “Just a few of his friends, I think. One of them is pretty cute, actually, but he’s only got one picture up.”

“You talking about Eren?”

You nodded, eyes lighting up, “Yeah, do you know him? I’ve never seen him around campus before.”

Sasha was beginning to plot, “Yeah he usually hangs out with Armin and Mikasa, but he goes to a lot of house parties. You know, actually, I think Jean is throwing one soon. He rented a cabin for after finals, you should come!”

“Won’t that be weird?” you scrunched your face, picking up the red one piece and moving onto the next garment that caught your eye. “Like I said, I’ve never even talked to him.”

“Yeah but you know Mikasa and me,” she raised her thumb towards herself. “Eren will be there too.”

“All I said was that I thought he was cute, Sasha,” you laughed her off. “But I’ll think about it. Text me the details and I’ll let you know if I’m free.”

“Something tells me Jean would be very happy to see you there,” Sasha chuckled, you giggling in response to her suggestive comment. The two of you picked through the selection of skimpy clothing, taking it up the cashier to check out.

You walked out of the store together, giggling over small banter. Your trip to the mall was quick after that, and in the end you held a grip full of medium sized paper bags, walking outside the mall with Sasha.

“Oh, hey!” Sasha suddenly quipped, placing her bags on the sidewalk, pulling her phone out of her crossbody bag. “We should take a picture!”

“Sasha I’m not even wearing lipstick,” you half heartedly complained, getting ready to pose next to your best friend.

“Literally, you’re so fucking hot,” she deadpanned, turning her head to look you directly in the eyes. “Shut up and get in, bitch.”

You threw your head back in laughter, leaning in on the left side of her frame, pushing your hair framing your face behind your ear. You smiled widely while Sasha did the same, hearing a soft click of her phone, indicating the photo was taken. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, bringing it out to see a notification stating she had posted it to her story. You’d repost it to your story later after you grabbed food, you decided, the conversation turning to the topic of where the two of you would eat before heading back to your apartment to get drunk in celebration of your semesters ending.

Eren and his two friends sat crowded in Jean’s dorm room bathroom, passing around a blunt. He could hear Connie coughing harshly as it was passed to Eren, the boy taking a deep drag of the backwoods cigarillo. Exhaling slowly, Eren brought his phone out of his hoodie pocket to open it up to change the song playing, his phone instantly opening to Instagram.

Distracted now by his favorite obsession, he glanced at the stories section, her name front in the line, glowing in that now familiar pink and purple circle. Eren couldn’t have tapped faster, and when he did, his mouth hung open.

“Yo,” Eren spoke loudly, shoving his phone in Jean and Connie’s faces. “Sasha knows this girl?”

“Yeah, they’re like best friends,” Connie quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t know her?”

“No, I just saw we had mutual friends,” Eren’s eyebrows knitted together. “How come we’ve never hung out with her before?”

“I don’t know actually,” Jean said, exhaling the blunt after it was passed to him from Eren’s fingertips. “I had a class with her this semester, she seems nice.”

“You’re only saying that because she’s hot,” Connie chuckled. “I bet you’ve never even talked to the girl.”

Jean’s face ignited in a fierce blush as he found interest in the ceiling tiles, “Shut up. It’s harder to talk to girls than it looks. You should know that, Connie.”

“Hey! I talk to girls!” Connie leaned up from his seated position on the floor.

“Idiots,” Eren sighed, rolling his eyes. “Neither of you have any game.”

“Not all of us are as gifted as you are, Eren,” Connie protested, a smirk spreading across his lips. “You could talk to a fucking mouse and it’d figure out someway to talk back.”

Eren rolled his eyes again, harder this time, “You just talk to girls like they’re human beings, it’s not that fucking hard.”

“Oh yeah? Betcha’ won’t be saying that whenever you see that girl around,” Jean teased, finally passing the blunt to Connie in the rotation, Connie muttering something about hogging it.

Eren shifted uncomfortably on the closed toilet seat, “Whatever, Jean.”

“Speak of the fucking devil!” Jean shouted, scaring the very high pair of boys at the suddenness. “Sasha just texted me asking if she can bring her this weekend to the cabin!”

Eren’s heart erupted into a flutter of uneven beats, his face heating up. This girl he had been drooling over was going to be at a party, with him? He suddenly felt like a teenager, the idea of seeing his precious addiction face to face giving him full blown anxiety.

Soft thuds of the bass of the stereo filled the room, catchy pop music drawing Eren out of his stupor to gaze hastily around the room, searching.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Armin had asked him, drawing his attention away once again. “It’s been an hour since the party started and you’ve barely drunk anything.”

Taking note of the full red solo cup in his hand, flickering his gaze between the liquid and his best friend, Eren shrugged and tipped the rim back in his lips, opening his throat and taking large gulps until the cup was empty. “Happy?”

Armin laughed loudly, although only having two strong drinks, his best friend was beginning to feel the numbness of intoxication, “You’re really out of it tonight, everything alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine, just waiting for the smoke sesh so I’m not cross faded,” Eren smirked, lying easily. “Last time I got too drunk and decided to rip Jean’s bong, I woke up in some random front yard with one shoe on.”

Armin shook his head in disbelief, “You really need to start making better life choices, Eren.”

Eren shook the empty solo cup in front of his friend, “I’m trying here.”

Truthfully, the reason Eren wasn’t halfway to getting shit faced was because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the girl of his dreams. She still hadn’t shown up yet, and Eren was getting anxious that she wasn’t going to show. Sasha and Mikasa hadn’t shown up yet either, which gave him a resemblance of hope that the three of you were together, and on your way currently to the party. His heart thudded heavily in his ribcage as he heard the jingle of the front door turn, and his attention was fully concentrated on the door frame ahead of him. His jaw dropped at the sight, his breath caught in his throat.

You asked Sasha earlier that day what you should wear to the party, and Sasha had just waved and told you whatever you felt looked the best. Not exactly helpful, you had just decided on black ripped jeans and a low cut shirt, paired with your favorite leather jacket and trusty Vans. You felt incredibly undressed as Sasha drove to Mikasa’s house, watching her modelesque frame saunter out her front door towards the back car doors.

“Mikasa, you could make a paper bag look hot,” you showered her with appreciation, her face blushing in response as she tugged her long sleeved body con dress towards her knees. “Fuck, should I have worn a dress? How nice is everyone else dressed?”

Sasha couldn’t have given two fucks about how she dressed in front of her friends, adorned in blue skinny jeans and a causal crop top, although her face was beat to the Gods, “Shut the fuck up, you’re one to talk about making paper bags look good. Besides, knowing the boys they probably made minimal effort, probably all wearing sweatpants.”

The three of you snickered at this, and Sasha pushed the car into drive and set out on your 45 minute journey into the mountains. Nerves hadn’t set in until you were face to face with the cabin door, nervous that the girls’ friends weren’t going to like you. Putting a brave face on, Mikasa grasped the door knob and pushed it open, the three of you gliding in.

Eren honestly had wanted to drop down to his knees and kiss the ground you walked on. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Your eyes were searching, for what neither of you knew, until your eyes had finally landed on him. You smiled politely, moving your hand up in a quick wave to both him and Armin.

Eren couldn’t fathom moving any single part of his body, so awestruck by you. Jean shook Eren out of his dumbstricken state with a hard pat to his shoulder, “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Eren?”

“Fuck off, horse face,” Eren spat, trying to will himself to either make strides towards you or to break his gaze, neither working. “Why don’t you?”

“I’d love to,” he smiled wickedly, inspired by liquid courage to lock arms with Eren and force him closer to the trio of girls that had finally made their appearance. Armin followed behind, Connie emerging out of the bathroom to give his hello’s to his best friend Sasha and company.

Eren could hear his heart beat in his ears as he stopped right in front of you, forcing his mouth closed in a tight lipped grimace. He felt like a fucking teenager with a crush.

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, smiling widely. “It’s so nice to finally meet you guys!”

“Nice to meet you too!” Armin spoke up, oblivious to his friends’ reaction to the fresh pretty face of yours.

Jean and Connie wouldn’t admit it, but they were feeling their own nervousness. Jean’s out of guilt as he scanned your body top to bottom, Connie’s natural shyness kicking in due to the newcomer. Both were able to overcome it though, and offer up their own introductions. Your eyes landed on Eren once again, tilting your head, waiting for his intro.

“I’m Eren,” he swallowed. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you looked down, smiling softly. You raised your hand then, looking up at the boys in front of you, revealing a handle of vodka. “I brought a gift with me too!”

“My kinda girl!” Jean spoke just a bit too enthusiastically. “Shots, shots, shots!”

Connie pumped his fist, chiming in, the rest of the party joining as well as the crowd made their way into the kitchen. Eren purposely hung back, trying to keep as close to you as possible.

“You happen to bring any chasers with you?” he had leaned in, tickling the side of your head with his breath.

“No, I totally forgot,” you sheepishly admitted.

“Looks like we’re all gonna get plastered then,” he chuckled smoothly, sending goosebumps down your body.

“Is it really a party then if at least one person doesn’t have their head in a toilet?” you had easily quipped back, feeling more comfortable now that the introductions were out of the way.

Eren hummed in half hearted agreement, feeling slightly more relaxed himself. Besides, his attention was being grasped by the plastic shot glass being shoved in his hand, as well as your dainty one. The group held up the shot glasses, a few phone cameras capturing the moment to post on their stories, and you all swung your heads back to allow the bitter liquid to trickle down your throats. Eren made a mild face, taking a stolen glance at your own to see your grimace, sticking your tongue out in disbelief at the taste.

Another hour had passed by, and Eren was running out of reasons to follow you around the cabin as you shifted between conversations to get to know the group of friends better. You hadn’t really noticed him trailing behind you, nor did you really care because you were very quickly warming up to Eren. It also didn’t hurt that he looked exceptionally better in person. His hair was lazily swung into a half top bun, wearing a couple of gold chains with his white tee tightly hugging his torso, tucked seamlessly into black ripped jeans displaying his muscular knee caps. Eren was definitely a looker, you shifted your gaze up to his face as he made some witty comment to Sasha, his eyes flickering to your face to catch your reaction.

“Oh my god, there was this one time,” Sasha spoke your name. “She had gotten so high during last year’s spring break, and the two of us and Mikasa came up with the brilliant idea of becoming one with nature. So, naturally, we ran to Walmart and bought this tent on clearance. Turns out it was made for kids, so none of us actually fit inside when we got back to Mikasa’s house. Mikasa and I curled up in a ball, surrounded by snacks, and this smart girl over here decided it was the best choice to just lay out on the lawn and pass out.”

“I wanted to watch the sun rise!” you laughed, trying to quickly explain yourself to Eren’s amused smirk. “And the grass was just so nice that night!”

“The grass was basically straw,” Sasha countered teasingly. “Twenty degrees outside, absolutely freezing. She was MIA for like a week afterwards with a cold.”

You shrugged carelessly, “Worth it.”

Now the two of you had sleeping on lawns in common? Eren scoffed inwardly. Yup, it was official, you were his soulmate. Still though, the topic of why you were so casual in person while your naked pictures existed online tickled his thoughts. He was hoping that somehow it’d get brought up naturally in conversation, saving himself the embarrassment if you were to get offended by his questioning. So far it seemed you liked him, not having said a word about him trailing after you like a lost puppy. Jean had been sending him knowing looks all night, Connie shooting two thumbs up at Eren while Armin looked on in confusion.

Mikasa had strolled out of the bathroom finally, joining the trio who stood casually in the living room, simply stating, “I’m starving. You guys think they deliver pizza out here?”

Sasha’s eyes widened in excitement, “I don’t care if it takes an hour to get here. We’re ordering right now.”

Already ahead of the two, your phone was pulled out in your hands to open up the Dominoes app, punching in the location of the party and placing the order online. Eren watched this all, peering over your hands to see the total.

“Guys, we should chip in,” Eren called out, grabbing the boys’ attention. “We’re ordering pizza.”

“No, no!” you protested, confirming the order. “It’s really fine, my treat.”

“But that’s really expensive,” he frowned, the group all joined together in the living room.

“Don’t worry, she’s got that OnlyFans money,” Sasha waved off Eren’s concern.

“OnlyFans?” Armin questioned, darting his eyes in between Sasha and you. “What’s that?”

Jean hid his blushing cheeks and your eyes flickered to him, then back to Armin, “I sell naked pictures online.”

“So what, a bunch of old guys give you money?” Armin had asked innocently, not judgemental in the slightest.

You giggled, relieved he wasn’t asking in a demeaning manner, “Actually, you’d be really surprised about who you know follows me. There’s a lot of people from school.”

Eren’s blood ran cold as he felt a sudden onset of embarrassment. Did that mean you had known this entire time Eren was one of these followers? If you did, you didn’t let on to it, smiling shyly as the questions ended. Eren hadn’t been done with the conversation, but pride from exposing himself in front of his friends kept his mouth shut.

It was around one in the morning when the party was at its peak. Sasha was being held up by her legs by Connie as she did a keg stand, you and the group cheering the girl on in your own drunken hazes. She tapped the large can, indicating she was finished, Connie settling her down on solid ground as she belched loudly.

“That was fucking awesome, Sasha!” you giggled, throwing your arms up and around her. You were definitely feeling the shots you had been feeding yourself all night, holding your red solo cup high above the girl so it wouldn’t slosh on her.

“You should totally try it!” she encouraged devilishly.

You pouted then, taking a moment to consider, “I’ve never done a keg stand before, what if I can’t do it?”

“I’ll help you!” Eren all but pounced on the opportunity, your smile turning into a tipsy giggle. “It’s not that hard, you just keep chugging until you can’t anymore. I’ll hold you, you got this.”

You lightly blushed, nodding your head at the encouragement, bringing a fist to your chest as a salute, “I’ll do it! We gotta’ put on a cool song though, if I’m going to fail miserably I might as well have a good song to do it to.”

Mikasa volunteered, as she was already DJ, having the best music taste out of everyone in the group. She dug her phone out of her pocket, switching over to a ‘Pursuit of Happiness’ remix. Connie whooped at the choice, and everyone began to chant your name as you hovered by the keg, very nervous. Eren then placed his large hand on the small of your back, leaning in to reassure you once again. You gulped, nodding that you were ready to get into position.

“Okay, so you’re going to lean your arms on the top of the can, and I’ll grab your legs. Like when you were a kid and you’d do that stupid wheelbarrel thing,” Eren easily explained, chuckling lightly. “Use your hands to let me know when you’re done.”

You did as you were told, resting your upper body against the keg as Eren hooked his arms around your calves. He couldn’t help but admire how strong your legs felt in his grasp, and how right it felt to finally have some bodily contact. He had been trying to figure out a natural way all night, and he was bubbling over in excitement, the chance had arisen, glorious in the promise of touch.

You placed your lips hesitantly around the tap, opening it up into your mouth, and began to chug. ‘Chug, chug, chug!’ was chanted all around you, even Mikasa joining in on the fun. Fists bumped in the air, and you felt like the coolest fucking person in the world. Doing a keg stand wasn’t exactly in your goals list, but fuck did it feel like it should’ve been as your ego inflated.

“That’s it, you’re doing great!” Eren’s thumbs brushed the inside of your knees, leaning in to whisper. “Good girl.”

You sputtered around the tap, choking harshly. You removed your mouth quickly to gasp for air, and the tap shot up all over your shirt, jacket long forgotten resting on the sofa in the living room. Eren moved your legs down to the floor quickly seeing this, and wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you as your arm shot out to grab onto something, in this case his other arm.

“You alright?” Jean asked, a look of concern washing over his features as you finally got some air into your lungs.

“Yeah,” you coughed again, blushing in embarrassment. “I definitely made a mess though.”

“I brought some extra clothes with me,” Eren offered quickly. “One of these idiots always manages to somehow spill something within the first hour of drinking. I’ll show you where my bag is at.”

You smiled in appreciation, biting your tongue to accuse him of purposely throwing you off your game with his little praise that had your knees buckling. He unwound his arm, taking your hand and leading you to the staircase by the entryway, your smaller form following behind him as he thudded up the stairs. Three doors greeted you at the top, and he led you into the master bedroom, plainly decorated and lacking personal belongings. You watched as he chucked a duffle bag onto the mattress, unzipping it and going through his clothes. He found a sweatshirt, smirking inwardly as it had been one of his old sports ones with his last name embroidered on the back. Proud he could provide a claim to you, he extended it to you, and you gladly accepted it.

“Well, you did really well in the beginning there,” he chuckled, whisking his stray baby hairs behind his ear. “Sucks about the shirt though. The first time I tried to do a keg stand, I barfed everywhere.”

You laughed lightly, fingering the hem of your shirt, “I guess it could’ve been a lot worse. Still, at least I can check this off my bucket list.”

Eren’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as you lifted your shirt to reveal your bare stomach, and he whisked his body completely around so you didn’t see his reddened cheeks, “You could’ve asked me to leave.”

Behind him, you let a mischievous smirk cross your lips, “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Eren’s mouth fell open at your bold statement, letting his words leave before he could stop them, “You know?”

“Of course,” you discarded the sodden shirt to the floor, sitting on the bed instead of tossing the sweatshirt on. “You’re my favorite viewer.”

He caught your movement in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to take in the sight. Fuck, you were even more beautiful in person. Your bra was white and pretty and dainty, pushing your tits together, accentuating cleavage that Eren wanted to bury his face in. His gaze moved up to your face, smiling so innocently at him as he let out a dark chuckle, “Is that so?”

You hummed, leaning back to expose your form a bit more, feeling confident from the alcohol, “You like every one of my pictures, you buy all my content, you’re pretty cute, of course you’re my favorite.”

Eren’s ego soared as he turned his body completely towards you, taking a small step forward, “You’re just so beautiful, how could I not? I do have to ask this though, how come you never answered any of my messages?”

“Oh, my DMs are broken. Instagram doesn’t let me view them or respond,” you explained easily. “You know, you could’ve hit me up on OnlyFans, I definitely would have answered you.”

A blush crept up on Eren again as he averted his gaze to the floor, “I didn’t think about that.”

You giggled softly, “What’d you send me anyways?”

“I asked you out on a date,” he admitted, growing more nervous. “Told you that you were really pretty. Y’know, stuff you probably get all the time.”

“Most of my messages are from guys trying to take me out drinking and to get a quick fuck,” you scoffed. “Y’know, if the offer is still on the table, I’d really like to take you up on it.”

“Really?” Eren’s eyes met yours in surprise, you watched his Adam’s apple bob along his throat as he gulped. “You’d want to go out with me?”

“Yeah, who else is going to hold me up when I try to do a keg stand again?” you smiled sheepishly, batting your eyelashes. Eren’s hands twitched at his sides, fuck, you were so pretty.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked seriously, his gaze hardening as he felt a wave of possessiveness. In his mind, you were already his girlfriend. You had accepted his date, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to push his luck further.

Eren had never felt the way he feels right now. He took immediate notice of your blushing cheeks, your confident lean turn into a shy arch as you pushed your body into a hunched over seating position. Eren had experience with girls, that everyone knew as a fact, he was very far from being a virgin. You made him feel like a fucking virgin, heart beating wildly in his chest. All he wanted to do was to grab you and hide you away for his own greedy pleasure, the darkest parts of his mind tickled by the thought. He had laid a claim to you way before he had ever met you, and he wouldn’t let you escape now that he had you here, alone.

You didn’t answer his request, you pushed yourself off the mattress and met his staggering stance halfway. Unknown to his wicked thoughts, his past month of obsessing of you, you leaned up, gently brushing your lips against his. No one had ever asked you this simple question before, instead just taking the action as if they had owned you, and you thought to yourself that you could really love this boy who presented himself so innocently to you.

The soft placement of your lips to his was not enough, and Eren buried his mouth with your own, moving both of his hands to cup your face. He could feel your jaw beneath the pads of his fingertips as you attempted to meet his pace, sensual and passionate. The need for air forgotten for the both of you, sucking in deeply through your noses as the space continued to close between your bodies.

“Gonna take you someplace real nice,” muttered Eren as he pulled away slightly to gaze his half lidded eyes on your fluttering eyelashes, your gaze now hidden from him. “I know you like that one place in the city, I saw your little post of you wearing that tight dress. You looked so fucking pretty.”

Tingles shivered up your bones, a sharp intake of breath as you fluttered your eyes open to take in his deep lustful expression, “I’ll wear it for you, if you want.”

“Wear my necklace too.”

You pulled away completely this time, baffled, “Your necklace?”

“The one with the ‘E’ on it,” he breathed, moving forward to accommodate the sudden distance, his lips meeting the corner of your mouth. You realized then what he was referring to, a small smirk uplifting his kiss. You wouldn’t tell him though that the necklace in question was just some random trinket with no meaning you had purchased, or that you hadn’t even recognized the pretty cursive as a letter. You figured out very quickly Eren’s little crush was a bit more involved than just him attached to your hip at this party. No, it was way deeper than that. All of the likes, the money, the new information of messages made sense to you. Eren had believed you were his, and he had sought out confirmation all night to prove it.

“Okay,” you played along to his fantasy, an expert since it was your job online already to provide this to your viewers. “What else do you want me to wear?”

“There’s this one set of lingerie,” Eren was the one to pull back now, letting his teal eyes trail downwards to your chest, displeased by the lack of skin shown to him in that instance. “The black lacy one, fuck, wear that. You look so fucking sexy in that.”

“You don’t like when I wear white?” you pouted, bringing your hands to rest against the peak of your breasts, framing them like a picture.

“I like anything you wear,” a smirk crossed his features, eyes locked in on your tits. “Or what you don’t wear.”

You were met with two choices then. One, kiss Eren and get dressed and save yourself for your date, or two, fulfill his now present fantasy of his that was beginning to morph into your own. You mentally battled the decision in your mind, feeling the desire curl in your stomach at each option. If you were to give in now, Eren might not want to continue to chase after you, the promise of an actual date forgotten. Not to mention the party of people down stairs, the thud of music softened behind the closed door of the bedroom indicating it was still in full swing. Eren saw your hesitation, and let his hands travel to your elbows comfortingly.

“I know we technically just met,” he started, eyes now locked in on yours in genuine honesty. “But I really like you. You’re all I’ve thought about for the past month, so if you don’t feel comfortable going any further, that’s okay, I’ll wait. I’ve waited this long.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you bit your lip as you watched his teal orbs flicker to your mouth. “It’s just — oh God, this is embarrassing to talk about so soon.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I won’t judge,” he cooed, bringing just a hand up to soothe over your cheek.

“I’m not exactly quiet,” you admitted, gesturing towards the floor. “I don’t really want to be the girl who fucks someone at the first party they show up to.”

Eren hadn’t predicted you to be loud in his fantasies, but he was really wishing he had. He held back a groan at your confession, images of what could be filling his dirty mind, “Fuck, okay, no problem. I don’t have any condoms with me anyways.”

“Actually,” you drawled. “I’m on the pill, so as far as that goes, that doesn’t really matter. I’m clean too, I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

Boxes were being ticked quickly off of Eren’s checklist, and he let his jaw hang open, “I’m clean too, I don’t fuck anyone without a condom, to be honest.”

I’m going to fuck her raw, is all that was going through his mind. Treat her so good, take her out wearing her pretty little dress and treat her like a fucking princess.

“Please tell me you’re free tomorrow,” Eren pleaded. “I’ll take us fucking anywhere you want.”

“I am, actually,” you batted your eyelashes.

“Cool,” he muttered, beginning to feel drawn into your lips again. As you began to lean back in, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

“Hey! Everything alright?” you both froze, recognizing the voice as Armin’s. Of course he’d be the only one to dare interrupt, and the party below had discouraged him. Eren had taken you upstairs, and while they were all aware of the possibility of the two of you would be hooking up, Armin was more concerned that one or both of you had gotten sick and were in need of help.

“Yeah, we’re fine! Be out in a second!” Eren shouted, feeling suddenly frazzled from the intense interaction between you two. If Armin had opened the door, seeing the two of you locked in together so closely, making out feverishly, it would be completely mortifying. Especially since it wouldn’t be the first time Armin had accidentally seen his best friend in a suggestive situation.

You pecked his lips quickly then, breaking out of his embrace to throw his sweatshirt over your head. Eren was counting backwards in his head to rid himself of the half erection in his pants, nearly impossible as he thought about how pretty you looked in his clothing.

“C’mon,” you tugged at his hand, urging him to follow you back downstairs. “We have a pizza to eat and friends to convince that we definitely didn’t just fuck for ten minutes.”

The group hadn’t made a single comment when you two rejoined the party, only just knowing smirks from Jean and Connie to Eren. Sasha had wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you quickly pulled her and Mikasa into the bathroom to recap what had just occurred upstairs. The girls clapped drunkenly at your news of a date, incredibly excited that their best friend was finally going out with a boy. The night had ended around three in the morning, bodies scattered throughout the house to pass out wherever they pleased. Eren had continued to stay by you the rest of the night, this time, not shy at all as he stole touches to your back. And when it came time to pass out, you felt smugness as he rested his head on your back while you laid on your side on the same bed upstairs, his arm thrown tightly around your waist. Sasha curled up in front of you, your own head snuggling into her shoulder as the room spun you into a deep slumber.

You sat at a vanity in your apartment bedroom the next evening, applying various makeups to your face. Mikasa had awoken you and Sasha pretty early the next morning, wanting to go home so she could get ready for her job. Eren snored quietly behind you as you tried your best to maneuver out of his grasp, and the three of you cleaned up the cups and plates scattered around the house as a thank you to Jean for the invitation. Sasha had driven you all the way back to your place when you realized you were still wearing Eren’s hoodie, and you smirked. Now he definitely had a reason to get you on this date tonight, you had something that belonged to him.

When Eren had woken up, he truly believed for a few minutes that you had just been a dream. Pictures and videos posted all over Instagram had shown him differently though, the two of you leaning against each other on the leather couch smiling drunkenly on Armin’s story had his heart pounding. His arm was around your shoulders, your head was tilted in the crook of his neck, and then Eren remembered that he was going to see you again tonight. He took a screenshot before the story moved on to a video of the group in a heated discussion about music tastes, a quiet chuckle made its way out of his throat as he recounted memories that would become very fond to him.

He had posted the picture then to his Instagram, a few others followed after that included him and his other friends. Eren tagged all of the people, but most importantly, the picture of the two of you was the first in the line up of the photo set. A few messages hit his inbox after he hit the post button, some classmates asking if you were his girlfriend, because you were wearing his sweatshirt in the photo. He decided to not respond, because as much as he wanted to tell them yes, he knew he’d be jumping the gun. His heart raced as a notification popped up — you had liked the picture, and added a comment, ‘last night was a movie’ with a kiss emoji. When he refreshed the page, your lit up story showed him that you had even reposted his photo set. His ego soared, his affections no longer one sided, and he couldn’t fucking wait to take you out later and show you the best time he could.

Eren had gotten your phone number from Sasha not long before your date, asking for your address and trying to pick out a time to head out to dinner. You tapped a response quickly, and looked at the clock to gauge how much time you’d need to be fully ready. That had been about three hours ago, your body had been scrubbed and shaved, hair curled prettily down your back as you added the final touches of lipstick to your lips. The dress Eren had talked about was laid out on your perfectly made bed, a pretty satin champagne colored fabric, and your apartment was fairly clean, fully expecting his company after the date of all went well. You dressed yourself easily, slipping on black heels when you heard the chime of your phone, letting you know Eren was awaiting you outside.

When the elevator doors chimed open as you walked into your lobby, you saw from the entrance doors Eren leaned back casually against the Uber he had offered to pay for. His attention immediately focused on your form as you exited your building, his gaze flickered all over your body.

“You look incredible,” Eren easily complimented, pushing himself up to stand straight. He leaned in to kiss your blushing cheek as you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’, and he pulled the door handle of the sleek black car, ushering you inside. He slammed it closed after you had positioned yourself comfortably, giving the driver a soft greeting as Eren circled around the back, getting in on the opposite side. The directions were already plugged into the driver’s GPS, and it took less than twenty minutes to get to the restaurant in question.

This gave you enough time to take in Eren’s appearance, and damn if you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to do so, the sight practically mouth watering. His hair hung low in a messy bun, a few complementary strands hanging out to frame his sharp jawline. His torso was adorned in a sheer white long sleeve button up, a small portion of his chest revealed as he had left the top buttons alone, chains hanging against his collarbones, silver in color this time. Black slacks that tightened around his thighs and calves had you biting your lip in appreciation, his legs spread as he took up space in the backseat.

“Staring isn’t very polite,” he had leaned in, taking notice of your devouring gaze.

“Stop dressing like a whore and maybe I won’t stare,” you teased back, chuckling quietly when he swatted your exposed thigh lightly. He kept his hand there for the rest of the drive, enjoying the comfortable silence as the quiet hum of the radio filled in the gaps.

When the Uber had slowed to a stop outside of the fancy restaurant Eren had insisted taking you to, he swung the door open before you had a chance to reach for the handle on your side. He raced to the other side of the car, pulling open the door and extending his hand out for you to grasp onto. You circled your fingers around his palm, and he tightened his grasp as you swung your legs over the flooring, and stood before him. The two of you thanked the driver, and he sped away shortly after. Hand still locked in with yours, Eren led the way inside the opened doors of the restaurant. Inside, a hostess wearing a very classy black uniform greeted the two of you.

“Reservation for Eren,” he spoke smoothly, and your eyes widened in surprise, expecting to have sat and waited for at least a half an hour before you had been seated.

“Right this way,” she smiled politely, two menus in her hands as she welcomed you into the dining area. You followed behind Eren, realizing that this place must’ve been a lot more expensive than you originally had gauged. All the guests appeared in their very best formal attire, and the chatter was soft as the beautiful notes of a piano resounded throughout the space. While you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the music was coming from, you had a strong feeling that there was a physical player somewhere in the midst, it sounded so clear and professional. When the hostess had sat you down in a booth secluded against the furthest set wall, she smiled politely once more and informed you that the waiter would be with you soon.

“Eren,” you hissed as you sat opposite of his smirking form. “This place is stupid fancy!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved easily. “I got it, I promise.”

“How are you able to afford this? I’ve got a little bit of money and even I couldn’t go some place this nice,” you questioned, feeling a small pang of guilt. He was going to go broke trying to treat you to a very nice, albeit expensive, meal.

“My dad is a doctor,” he shrugged, picking up the menu and eyeing over their drink selection. “He sends me money whenever I come around and help around his office.”

“Following in the family footsteps?” you tried at the conversation, realizing you virtually knew nothing about the boy in front of you.

“Nah, I’m more into the business side of things,” he smiled up at you then, showing off his pearly white teeth. “What about you? What are you majoring in?”

You spoke of your major, Eren carefully listening in of your passions and your goals for your future ahead. He was pleased to hear that you were ambitious, smiling as he was enamored by your speech. Not that he minded a single bit about your online job, but to hear that you had a legitimate career goal soothed his worries.

A finely dressed waiter greeted you shortly, introducing himself and taking the both of your orders in one go, and stole away the menus. The rest of the date flew by quickly, tipsy from your cocktails and full of giggles as the two of you got to know one another. Although Eren was already knowledgeable about a number of your likes and dislikes and personality quirks due to Instagram, you had the undisguisable pleasure of learning his right then and there.

“So,” you leaned your elbows onto the table, resting your chin atop of your closed fists. “Tell me, how many girls have you taken here before?”

“Not a single one,” he chuckled lowly, passing the black booklet encasing his credit card as the waiter stopped at the table. “This is actually my first time taking anyone out somewhere so fancy. Usually I just hang out at the more lowkey spots around campus.”

“I would’ve been totally okay with going somewhere like that instead,” you frowned, that same guilt flooding back to your stomach. Eren hadn’t even let you see the bill before he had given it away, so you were completely ignorant as far as how far the total rang up. “You really didn’t have to take me out to such an expensive place.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, smirking as he did so, “Had to take my favorite girl somewhere nice, show you off in that gorgeous dress of yours.”

You blushed, moving your fists to hold your cheeks to try and contain the heat, “Fine, but next time, I want to see one of these ‘lowkey spots’.”

“Next time, huh?” Eren mused cockily.

“Yes, I guess I had a really great time tonight, consider yourself honored,” you giggled half heartedly.

“Oh believe me, I do.”

Eren had walked you to the front door of your apartment like the gentleman he was. Really, he was just trying to procrastinate leaving you, not wanting the night to be over with quite yet. Luckily, you were on the exact same page as he stood awkwardly behind you while you unlocked your front door.

You turned, an eyebrow raised, “Well? Are you coming in or what?”

“Say less,” he sighed in relief, following your sauntering frame inside your apartment. He was initially impressed as you flicked the light switch on the wall up, illuminating your precious space. Very clean and organized, he felt a pang of jealousy, knowing his own dorm room was scattered with clothes and empty water bottles. If he had only seen what your living space looked like before you had straightened up, he might have felt better about himself.

“I have some róse in the fridge,” you offered, making your way to the kitchen. “Would you like a glass?”

“No lie, that’s literally my favorite wine,” Eren groaned. “How are you this perfect?”

You laughed loudly, grabbing two wine glasses from your cabinet, opening your fridge and retrieving the bottle. Filling the glasses generously, you left the bottle on your kitchen counter and turned around, Eren a lot closer than where you had left him a moment ago. You extended his cup, which he graciously took and sipped. You mirrored him, gulping down your own mouthful.

“Y’know,” he started, gazing around your kitchen space. “For all that talk of mimosas in your Instagram bio, I really expected there to be a lot more pictures of you drinking them.”

You chuckled once again, “Believe me, I have plenty of orange juice, vodka, and champagne here. We had such a classy dinner, I thought I’d try and match it with some wine. Besides, vodka brings out the worst in me.”

“Ah, lady in the streets, freak in the sheets,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You rolled your eyes, swatting his bicep harmlessly. “I get what you’re about at brunch with the girls.”

“If I had a nickel for every time Mikasa had to peel me and Sasha off the pavement after mimosas and scones, I’d be fucking rich,” you giggled once again, raising the glass to your lips.

“I’m really surprised we hadn’t met each other before last night, especially because Mikasa and I have been best friends since we were little,” Eren raised an eyebrow. “She’s basically my sister, and never once did she say anything about you, I only met Sasha because Connie’s attached to her hip and they share the same brain cell.”

“If it makes you feel better, I only knew Jean existed because we had a class together this semester,” you shrugged, purposefully leaving out the part where he consumed your content almost as much as Eren did.

“And of course me,” Eren smirked cheekily. “Because I’m your favorite viewer, like you said.”

“Don’t make me regret telling you that,” you pointed your glass towards him in a fake threat.

“It’s okay, you’re my favorite girl, so it evens itself out,” Eren placed his half drunk glass on the counter top, his gaze much more seductive. “Besides, you wore my necklace like I asked, I gotta tease you a little bit.”

“I wore pretty much everything you wanted me to,” you smirked, copying his actions and settling your own cup down.

“Did you now?” he took long strides to stand in front of you, toying with the necklace that he had laid claim over.

“I can show you, if you want to see,” you leaned up with full intentions of capturing his kiss.

“There’s nothing else I would rather do, pretty girl,” Eren cooed, licking his lips before meeting you in the middle. His arms circled around your waist, your hands wrapped around his shoulders as the pace started out slowly. Gentle was not what either of you wanted though, the desperation seeping in fast as his fingers explored your sides.

“Bedroom,” you gasped as he removed his lips and attached them to your jaw. He had no qualms of fucking you right out here in the kitchen, so he made no effort to move. Realizing you had to take the reins, you moved backwards from Eren, smirking as he groaned from the sudden distance. His eyes followed you predatorily as he began to chase after you, your back meeting the wooden paneling of your bedroom door. He attempted to recapture your mouth, but your hand was faster in turning the door knob, and you began to lead him back until your mattress met the backs of your knees.

“Want you to show me what you’re wearing under that dress,” Eren demanded, playing with the short hem that rested on your thighs.

You nodded, giving him the silent okay to take off the fabric encompassing your frame. You turned so your back faced him, moving your hair out of the way so he could unzip the back. His eyes followed as he fingered the silver zipper, agonizingly teasing himself as more and more was revealed to him. Seeing the straps of the black lace he had requested drunkenly the night before, his patience snapped as he pulled the metal piece down faster. You slid the tiny straps off your shoulders at the sweet feeling of release, and Eren’s dick was rock fucking solid as it pooled around your feet, you kicked the silky fabric to the side and faced him once more.

“You’re wearing everything I told you to,” he stated, drinking in the sight of your scantily clad body. “Good girl.”

You bit back an embarrassing moan at his praise, feeling the heat pool between your thighs. It came as such a shock to you to be so reactive to his words, and it came slamming into you that maybe you weren’t as vanilla as you had previously believed. You had a kink! It all made so much sense, why you felt such pride and arousal from complete strangers giving you their attention and compliments online. You yearned for it, craved the affections, and now that Eren stood in front of you, more than willing to shower you with pretty words, all the moisture in your mouth dried up. You wanted him so fucking bad.

Eren’s hands met the naked skin of your waist as his palms etched over your soft stomach. They met in the middle of your back, leaning your back onto the mattress as he climbed on top of you, a single hand coming up to work on discarding his button up. You rushed to help, pads of your fingers working the buttons open until he revealed his bare chest, his chains hanging above you. He worked his arms out quickly, tossing the fabric onto the floor. He brought his lips to yours, this kiss much more desperate and needy than the previous ones. His hands explored every inch of your body, the tops of your thighs to the swell of your breasts. He tugged on the soft lace at the top, slowly bringing the black fabric down to expose the complete fullness of your breasts. A sight familiar yet somehow new made Eren groan, the pads of his thumbs brushing against your pretty nipples, instantly hardening them.

You moaned lightly, throwing your head back and arching your back into his touch. How many times had Eren pictured you just like this?

“I fucked my fist so many fucking times thinking about you,” he confessed as he pressed slow open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. “You have no idea what your pictures did to me, no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

He leaned his bottom half forward, pressing his thick clothed erection into the meat of your thigh. You let out a whimper, head foggy as his words made your pussy clench around nothing.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he licked a stripe up your neck, leaving a wet saliva trail as he wrapped his lips around where he could feel your pulse the strongest. “My pretty girl.”

While Eren wanted to talk about what you did to him, all you could think about was what he was doing to you. The want and need that coursed through your veins was like a drug, you could feel him worming his way into your bloodstream, straight to the center of your heart and out to the warmest parts of your body. And you felt like an addict in that moment too, and every moment you would spend with Eren there after. You could feel his kisses as if he was underneath your skin, his entire body pressed against yours. So, so close, yet not close enough.

“Take off your pants,” you demanded shakily, placing your hands at the button of his slacks. He seemed to be on the same page of you yet again, and he followed his instructions without delay. He kicked out of the tight pants with ease, and you were more than pleased to see he had rid himself of his boxers too when you heard the thick slap of his cock meeting his stomach.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes widened. “Eren, that’s not going to fit.”

“Don’t worry,” he soothed your hair back from your face, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and wet for me.”

He started to move south, licking and giving attention to your right nipple as he did so. While the idea of him giving you thorough attention was erotic, you really wanted to please him for your first time together, unknown to you as Eren had thought the exact same thing, wanting to make you feel so good you’d come crawling back to him for more.

You pushed yourself up into a seating position, Eren’s eyes flickering in confusion as you stood up. This look didn’t last for long as you switched positions, pushing his torso onto the bed as you rested atop of him, feet placed firmly on the ground. His mouth hung open in disbelief as you began to return his assault on his neck, sucking and kissing and even biting along the columns. He let out a shaky groan, unable to hold it back as your hands traveled down his chest to his abdomen, feeling over the muscles there.

“What’re you doing, princess?” Eren questioned teasingly, not trying to get his hopes up on what your plan seemed to be.

“Wanna’ make you feel good,” your eyes flickered up to meet the dark green of his eyes, watching as his pupils expanded as the realization hit him like a brick.

“Fuck, okay,” Eren subconsciously widened his thighs then, bringing himself up to lean on his elbows as your kisses followed shortly behind the trail of your fingers.

Your mouth met the defined muscle of his stomach, and your eyes drifted up to catch Eren’s reaction as you neared closer to his aching cock. His eyes were hardened on you, brows knitted together, he almost looked angry. You kitten licked above his navel, and knew the anger was superficial as he threw his head back, letting out a quiet groan. You leaned your body in closer, pushing your exposed chest against his length. He whipped his head forward again at the contact, his lips opened as he inhaled shaky breaths.

Part of you had kind of wanted to hear Eren beg for your mouth, but the thought had quickly left your head as he entangled his fingers into the back of your scalp, massaging gently as he did so. Without a moment of hesitation, you lowered your face so you were eye to eye with his thick shaft. Honestly, you really hadn’t expected Eren to be this big. You had caught a glimpse of his half erect member tenting in his pants the night before, but as it stood to full attention, you were very much intimidated by the sheer size. You gulped, putting on a brace face as you continued on.

The sound of Eren’s groans growing louder as you licked a bold stripe from the bottom of his base to the tip of his head had stirred your cunt deeply. You were on your knees now, feet tucked up under you when you felt the wet patch of your panties touch the back of your heels. You licked a few more times, your right hand trailing down from his stomach to grip him more upright. You pulled all the saliva in your mouth onto your tongue, and wrapped your lips around his tip while your hand secured a purposeful grip at his base. You started slow, only sucking in your cheeks and moving your tongue along the underside of his head, pumping him at the same pace. You could feel beads of spit meet your knuckles, circling your tongue around the entirety of his fat mushroom tip. You smoothly licked along his slit, collecting his gushing precum and tasting the salty liquid.

Meanwhile as you had just started your worship of his cock, Eren was watching you in disbelief as your eyelashes fluttered along your cheeks, mouth prepping yourself to take in his full length. He had pulled himself into a sitting position now to provide you the best angle he could. He was in complete awe, furrowing eyebrows and his mouth hanging open, he knew in that moment there was absolutely no point of return. He would follow you from here on out, whether it be online or in reality, wherever you would go. Soulmates, he reminded himself while he collected your hair into his fist and away from your mouth. You were his fucking soulmate.

You pressed your knees upward, eyes opening. Eren’s pupils were blown out, his breathing irregular, and you wanted to watch him completely unfold as you angled your head to drop lower onto his shaft, hand working just a little faster.

“Fuck —“ he stuttered, eyes blazing into yours. “That’s it, take all of me, you’re such a good girl.”

You moaned lightly at his praise once again, and Eren’s cock hit the back of your throat. You pulled your lips up slowly, tongue caressing the underside of his member the entire time, and quickly brought your unoccupied hand into a fist. This was the first time you would be trying out this trick, reading it in a magazine since your gag reflex was very strong and this helped soothe the impulse. Eren was not prepared in the slightest as you removed the hand gripping him, letting his dick fall forward a bit more. You took a deep breathe through your nose, spit coating his entire cock now, and pushed your mouth fast back down his shaft.

Eren let out a strangled gasp when your nose brushed against his pelvis, “Holy fucking — fuck. Shit, yeah, just like that. You look so fucking pretty right now.”

Tears were threatening the spill over your lash line and you bobbed your head furiously, taking in as much as you could before you gagged. You stared up at him the entire time, watching his face screw together as you lapped and sucked his cock. Your jaw was aching already from his size, minding your teeth placement as you quickened your pace. You returned your hand to wrap and pump whatever your mouth wasn’t able to reach as you set yourself into a more comfortable pattern. Your other hand cupped his balls, swirling them softly in your palms.

Eren’s fingers yanked you back, his dick falling out of your lips in a soft pop, as you looked up in confusion, “Gonna’ stop you there baby, gonna’ make me cum.”

His hand in your hair guided you back up to his lips, and Eren could taste himself as his tongue pushed through your swollen mouth to enter yours. You moaned into the kiss, so sloppy and messy, you took no notice of Eren’s hands wiping away the leftover dribble on your chin. He yanked you back, a bit rougher this time, and you panted, rubbing your thighs together at the force. He eyed you up, your beautiful tits still on display, the fabric of your lace bra folded underneath them.

“Get naked for me, princess,” he cooed, untangling his fingers from your scalp. You did as you were told, practically ripping the lace set off your body as you soon stood stark naked in front of Eren. He pushed his legs up, joining you. You felt very small then as he towered above you, playing with the tips of your hair, he guided you around until you were forced to lay yourself flat on your back on the mattress once again.

Eren caressed your shins as he stood tall in front of you, never breaking eye contact. You could still see the glistening of your saliva on his cock, and heat continued to pool in between your thighs in anticipation of his next move.

“Look at you,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers on the tops of your bent knees, legs closed together. “So pretty, it almost hurts to look at you.”

His darkened eyes shot down, drinking you all in before settling on your closed legs. With his hands, he gently forced them to part, and he let out a quiet moan at the sight in front of him. Dripping in arousal, almost sparkling and shining like the gem you were, your pussy spread open for him, begging for his attention. His gaze darted up back to your face, trying not to get too carried away as he admired your beautiful body.

Eren let out a dark chuckle, stroking his hands to the meat of your thighs, “You have no idea the things I have planned for us, princess.”

You whimpered, unable to voice a single word. His right hand moved towards your center, and you gasped sharply as he gently grazed your folds with the lightest of touches. His thumb landed a hair above your clit, and you squirmed, desperate now. He circled so slowly on your pearl, gazing on with an inflated ego. Eren wanted you to beg for him, to tell you all about those ideas he had going on in his head while he fucked his fingers into you.

He decided to go easy on you though, you had plenty of time ahead of you to learn exactly what he wanted when it came to the bedroom, he cooed, “I’m gonna’ show you off, just like you deserve. Gonna’ buy you pretty things, treat you like the fucking princess you are — gonna’ be my pretty girl.”

“Please, Eren,” you whimpered, attempting to push your pelvis into his hand, failing miserably as his other one gripped your thigh in place. “I need you.”

“Tell me exactly what you need, baby,” Eren smirked.

“Everything,” you breathed out. “I want you to keep calling me pretty, wan’ you to fuck me.”

“We’ll get to that part soon,” he paused, lowering his head to your inner thigh, getting to his knees on the floor. “Just need to make you feel good first, pretty girl.”

Eren licked a bold stripe up your pussy as you mewled, feeling a shred of relief as the tip of his tongue circled your clit. You felt a bead of saliva, probably mixed in with your own arousal, travel down the seam of your ass. Eren was starving, and you tasted so delicious, a sweet tart flavor exploding across his taste buds. He flattened his tongue, and looked up to watch your gorgeous face as his lips engulfed your clit.

You threw your head back, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you attached your hands to your breasts, pulling and tugging on your nipples. He positioned his hands to the back of your thighs then, somehow managing to spread you open even more. The sounds he made in between your folds were wet and sloppy, and he rubbed small circles with the pads of his thumbs into the creases where your legs met your ass.

He never broke away from your face, watching everything unfold before him. Now that you were free from his solidifying grip, your hips were rolling. He watched your ribs expand and fall as you moaned unabashedly, rubbing your cunt into his mouth. Eren had never seen a more beautiful sight, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. His right hand itched closer to your opening, and you trembled at the prodding of his index fingers. His tongue flopped around sloppily, slurping your bud in between his lips as he entered you slowly, cock pulsing at the feeling of your slick velvety walls greeting his finger.

Here he was, on his knees before you, eyes heavy and swirling because of you. You arched your back as he pumped the single digit in you slowly at first. He felt the tight clench of your walls as his tongue flicked at a certain angle, pleased that he had discovered very quickly how he was going to get you to cum. Eren was impatient, and as much as he wanted to stay between the heat of your thighs for hours if you’d let him, he really needed that orgasm from you. The tip of his pointer finger left you briefly, and you whimpered at the sudden loss, quickly becoming breathless and he slammed it right back in alongside his middle finger. They curled inside of you, brushing right against the soft spongy wall that was your g-spot. You were gushing for him, the sloppy noises of his assaults resounding around the bedroom.

“Fuck, fuck,” you panted, feeling your breasts bounce as he fucked his fingers into you at an alarming pace, tongue following the pattern eagerly. “Oh my god, I’m so close, Eren, I’m gonna’ cum.”

He pulled his mouth back momentarily, voice husky and pleading as he told you, “Cum for me, baby.”

You slammed your hips down onto his knuckles, feeling the underside of his palm and your slick. He had been reduced to curling and angling his fingers inside of you, watching in adoration and awe as you bounced yourself on his fingers, rubbing your pretty pussy against his mouth. Eren had just become a bystander at this point, he was pretty much forced to be stilled as you used his mouth and hands so greedily, feeling an unfamiliar swell in your cunt.

And when your back arched, and your walls clenched so fiercely tight around his drenched fingers, Eren found his forever love. He’d do anything, be anyone, whatever the fuck that was asked of him, to see this sight for the rest of his life. You were vibrating, legs shaking so strongly, Eren had to mentally catch up when he felt a gush of hot liquid soak him. He shifted his gaze down in shock, and holy shit, you were squirting.

You swore you had never orgasmed like this before, it was more than stars you were seeing behind your closed eyelids. It was pure black, absolute nothingness as your brain short circuited. It was like your pussy was taking a deep breath, because when the onset of contractions hit you, you thought you were going to pass out. And poor Eren, who stared dumbly in front of him at how intense your muscles were flexing, was already so deeply in love with you and was confessing his eternal devotion to you in his mind.

When your cunt had settled down, and your hips relented in pushing yourself against Eren’s face and hands, you let out a low moan as he slid his drenched fingers out of you. He stared at his hand, shining with your cum, and flickered his gaze up to you.

“I’m going to fucking marry you,” he growled. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

You let out an exhausted laugh, “Would you believe me if I told you that was the first time I’ve ever squirted?”

“I’m buying you a goddamn ring tomorrow,” he placed a kiss to your inner thigh, moving his body up to hover above you. Eren’s hands wrapped around your thighs once again, propping your knees to your chest. He saw the slight trace of fear in your eyes, and he paused, “You okay?”

“It’s just,” you gazed at the point between your bodies. “Are you gonna’ fit?”

Eren leaned forward, feeling slightly relieved, his face still dripping in your essence, and he placed a sweet, romantic kiss to your lips, pulling away to murmur, “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You nodded your head, letting the worry roll off your body as one of his hands caressed your cheek, never breaking eye contact with him. The other hand reached in between your centers, grabbing his throbbing cock and sliding himself along your pussy. He was soon coated in your juices, and both of you were letting out quiet moans. As he sunk his tip into your entrance though, you were gasping loudly.

Eren really had wanted to be gentle, he had no intentions whatsoever of hurting you, but he had realized very quickly that you were going to be the one to set the pace in the relationship. Because as soon as half of his shaft was anchored in your heat, your hips slammed upwards to engulf his entire length. He bit back a yelp at the suddenness, fisting the sheets by your waist in a tight grip. If Eren didn’t feel like a virgin before, he sure as fuck did now.

You didn’t realize just how prepped that orgasm had made you, or how sensitive. What you had believed would’ve been pain was insurmountable and mind blowing pleasure, and you smiled in pride as Eren’s jaw fell open. You felt his hands fall from the underside of your thighs, and you took the opportunity, leveraging your legs, and thrusted upwards. Eren bottomed out inside of you, and you winced slightly at the mild pain of his tip meeting the wall of your cervix, the stretch of your walls accommodating him as you fluttered around him.

“You’re so big, Eren,” you moaned out, moving your hands to grasp his flexing biceps. “‘Feels so good.”

Eren was fighting an internal war — go as slow as physically possible as to not bust in your heavenly pussy in three strokes, or give you the best two minutes of your fucking life. Because it was absolutely all way too much, your gorgeous face, your soaked core, the way you gripped his cock so tightly. You were a vixen, Eren’s personal vices wrapped up in one human body. He couldn’t help but take notice of how perfectly your bodies fit together, your pussy made for him.

“Eren, move, please,” you whined, attempting to squirm your hips. He shot a hand down to your hip, stilling you as he gave you a warning glare.

“I’m trying really hard not to cum inside of you right now,” Eren groaned, finally moving his hips. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. Making it real hard for me right now.”

Little was Eren aware of your pussy still on edge from the mind blowing power of your first orgasm, and you mouth lolled open as he slowly fucked you. If you were to touch your clit, or have any type of pressure there right now, it would be over for you as well. You’d have all the time in the future to have long, drawn out sex with Eren, but the two of you were just way too turned on and aroused by each other to have anything but heavy and fast sex. With a slight hesitation on your end, also not wanting to cum so quickly around his length, you rocked your hips into his fastening pace.

Eren chose the latter of his two options then, feeling the ridges of your pussy pulse and flutter around his cock. He pulled all the way back, tip daring to fall out of your little hole, and he flung himself right back in to the hilt. He repeated this a few times, and you were trying your best to hold back screams. Eren was drooling at the sight of your pretty pink pussy taking him, sloppy and messy from his saliva and your cum. He brought his attention to your bouncing breasts, molding one into his palm, rolling the nipple in the center.

Eren’s thrusts quickened dramatically, and he knew that your warning from the previous night had been true. You were screaming, calling out his name and several swears and ‘oh my god’s. This only encouraged him more, ego pretty much stroking his own cock as he plunged into you at a dangerous pace. He knew he was going to fast approach his orgasm, but Eren wasn’t stupid either. He could feel the clench tightening around him as he fucked right into that pretty spot inside of you, the way your breathing changed after a few seconds of that. Eren would become your number one expert, knowing every tell tale sign of your body, and what you were feeling. From one orgasm, he knew how your breathing changed, and Eren was determined to take you to those heights again.

Keeping the flick of his hips at the slamming pace he was at, he brought his thumb to your swollen clit. At the impact, your eyes screwed closed over the overwhelming pleasure. You felt a twinge of pain, just so sensitive from how strong you came before, but didn’t stop Eren as he rolled your pearl in fast circles, putting delicate pressure on the very top. It took maybe three strokes of his cock and a slight unsteady irregularity in his pattern to get you right where he had wanted you — desperate to cum alongside him.

“I’m so close, Eren,” you moaned out, lower body buzzing in anticipation.

“I want you to cum on my cock,” he demanded, a shocked moan crawling out of his throat at the first clench. “Oh, fuck, good girl.”

You spasmed under him, eyebrows shooting up in a furrow as you arched your back uncontrollably, the wave of your second orgasm slamming into you like a train. You could hear the squelching of Eren fucking your pussy as you contracted around him, or as he tried to. It was pure ecstasy, a feeling of wholeness filling you entirely. Half way through your orgasm, he grabbed the base of his cock, sliding out of you as he pumped himself fast above you. You held your legs open, breathing heavily as Eren watched your muscles contract in astonishment. He had never made a girl cum like this before, so hard and so visually. Your beautiful face, eyes encouraging him to cum, was all he needed. His dick was covered in you, his fingers sticky and soaked. It was all so fucking sloppy, and the thought and sight of it all caught up to him.

You felt the hot ropes of cum hit your belly, moaning at the sight. Eren was fucking his fist, cock thrusting in his grip like he had been doing in your pussy. His head hung forward, eyes drinking in the entirety of you. He shot his load on your lower half, stroking himself down after a couple of minutes, breathing heavily.

He eyed the box of tissues on your nightstand, and grabbed a few, languidly wiping his cum off of your abdomen as the two of you tried to catch your breath, or bring a ration thought back into your minds.

“We just had porn star sex,” you giggled tiredly.

“Oh yes we fucking did,” Eren smirked. “Not to like hype you up or whatever, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Your pride and ego swelled as he finished wiping up his cum, discarding the tissues in the bin on the floor. He hadn’t given you much time to respond, asking where the bathroom was so he could grab a rag to clean you up. You were humbled, affection rising in your chest when he returned to take care of your exhausted body. No one had bothered with aftercare before, and right then and there, you knew Eren was a keeper.

“Thank you,” you yawned out, stretching your legs in front of you. Eren hung around a little awkwardly, not sure of what to do. “You can spend the night, if you want to.”

He raised his eyebrows, a smile crossing his face, “Do you want me to?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself back until your head met your pillows and lifted your comforter, gesturing for Eren to join you. And that he did, pouncing on the offer and sliding into bed with you, not hesitating for a second to wrap his muscular arms around your waist. He kissed you gently, pulling away to place his lips on your shoulder as you began to drift off.

You awoke alone in your bed, the bright rays of the sun hazy as you blinked the sleep away. You could smell and hear the sizzling of breakfast in your kitchen, your bedroom door swung wide open. You threw your legs over the mattress, stealing a quick look at yourself in the mirror. You cringed at the mascara stains under your eyes, taking a tissue and wiping underneath your lashes to look presentable enough for the man looming in your kitchen. You discarded the tissue, and slid on a pair of fresh panties and Eren’s enormous sweatshirt you had yet to return, and padded your bare feet across your floor to join him.

Eren’s back faced you, his form only clad in a pair of boxers as he focused his complete attention to the frying pans in front of him. You smirked, leaning against your counter, placing your chin in your open hands.

“Good morning, Chef Eren,” you teased, catching him off guard as he jumped a bit.

He turned to face you, hair a complete mess as a boyish smile graced his face, “Morning, princess. I hope you don’t mind my mess.”

“It smells amazing, so I guess I can figure out a way to forgive you,” you sighed dramatically. “Only if there’s coffee involved, though.”

“Way ahead of you,” he moved his legs over to your coffee machine, a pair of steaming muga awaiting his hand. He grabbed one, a plain white mug that matched the rest of your kitchen set, and set it on the counter in front of you.

“If you’re trying to earn extra credit, it’s working,” you said, dumbstriken.

“Gotta’ show you I’m boyfriend material,” he wagged his eyebrows, turning back to the frying pan before cutting the heat off. “I couldn’t find your plates, though.”

“Cabinet above the sink,” you directed, pulling out a stool from underneath your kitchen bar. “Forks and stuff are in the drawer by the refrigerator.”

Eren nodded, collecting two plates and the necessary utensils from their designated areas. The sight of eggs and bacon made your mouth water, and you were about to get a key made specifically for Eren to waltz in every morning to cook you this glorious meal every single day. You thanked him as he set your plate in front of you, and you dug in.

“Eren, it’s so good,” you complimented after chewing. “You really know how to treat a girl.”

He simply laughed, and the two of you fell into a pleasant conversation. And then by the time mid day rolled around, the two of you had talked all about where you’d be spending the evening. The night had ended just like the one before in mind blowing sex, the morning after repeating itself, and again, and again.

A month later, you had updated your Instagram bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas, rock and roll, and Eren Jaeger’. And when it had come time to update your OnlyFans content, you were more than happy to have your own personal photographer to use at your discretion. Just as long as you continued to wear his necklace, Eren would take as many pictures as you needed him to, knowing you’d end up in each other’s beds at the end of the session anyways. And he’d continue to follow you, this time though, you’d gladly send him his favorite pictures for free.

#eren x reader #eren jaeger #eren yaeger #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin eren #eren smut #eren fluff #eren fanfiction #attack on titan eren #aot eren #eren jeager x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren yaeger x reader #eren fic

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starlighthan · 3 years ago

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[16:18] yang jeongin

genre: fluff, idiots to lovers(?), high school au

warnings: none

word count: 0.4k words

note: here's a very simple drabble after coming back from my hiatus! final exams just ended and i finally get to post this as a celebration of some sort lol enjoy! <33

“Where are we going again?”

“The address- wait a minute,” the boy beside you struggles to bring out his phone from his backpack. “I never went there yet, but I thought it would be a great idea to go there together.”

Humming, you suddenly remember the point of going out with Jeongin after class. It’s Valentine’s Day.

Everybody’s pairing up, preparing to confess, and going on a date. In conclusion, the two of you decided to go out just to not feel out of place.

No doubt, you’re doing it as friends.

After checking the address, Jeongin responds again to his friend’s messages. His friend seems to be a little bit of a gossiper.

chan: just because it’s v-day? how cute! (´ υ｀)

chan: i hope the two of you enjoy! (and just confess already!!!)

jeongin: sighs

jeongin: now’s not the time for that… we really are going out to this café as friends!

chan: sure, innie (◔_◔)

“Oh! You’re chatting with Chan?”

Jeongin widens his eyes, immediately closing the messaging app, “Yeah, he knows we’re going out today.”

“And he’s teasing a little bit,” he mumbled, scratching his head lightly.

You step closer, “About what?”

“Us going out. I just said we’re going out as friends.”

You giggle. The sound warms the boy’s heart. Despite feeling embarrassed over the thought that he decided to take you out as a friend, confessing doesn’t sound like a bad idea all of a sudden.

“You’re right though, it’s been very clear. There’s nothing wrong with hanging out with your friends on Valentine’s day, right?” You cling on his arm, leaning your head to his shoulder, “It is still a day to show your love for people.”

Jeongin hesitantly nods. Nevermind, now’s not the right time to confess.

“Don’t expect a lot though, it’s a simple café. I thought it’d be nice to try a new menu from a café for once,” he rubs his arm this time. He's been nervous as heck for the whole day because of this 'hang out' of some sort.

Looking at him with a warm smile, you thank him. “The thought alone of going out to try a new set of food for Valentine's is really cute though.”

Noticing the big distance from your school to your feet, you ask, “Is the café far away?”

Jeongin shakes his head enthusiastically, “I’m sure we haven’t gone a little far from school, but it’s just a few blocks away! Pretty sure we'd get there very soon.”

You grin and pull his hand, speeding up a little bit. “Let’s go, then! You still have the address and map anyways, we wouldn’t get lost!”

“Oh, right-” Almost tripping on a rock, Jeongin screeches. After wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead, his voice shakes, “we’ll be there in a while!”

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tea-and-spoons · 3 years ago

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Today’s Tips: Brain Fog

Brain fog is that experience a lot of us spoonies have where your thinking feels, well, foggy! More specifically, it can include any or all of the following:

Trouble focusing

Memory problems- like general forgetfulness, not being able to recall information for school, or walking into the kitchen and not remembering why you’re there. Basically anything memory related

This is also technically part of memory, but difficulties often show up with word finding in particular. That’s when you know what you’re thinking of, but you can’t quite recall the word for it.

Thinking more slowly than usual and needing more time to process things

Being more distractible

Not being able to multitask

Not being as tuned in to your environment, and missing things that are going on around you (like someone walking in, or a sign on the door)

Getting confused more easily and/or more often

Trouble learning new things

Feeling overall spaced out or numb

Feeling like you can’t think clearly or your mind isn’t sharp

Mentally challenging tasks taking more energy than usual

Having a hard time with organization and time management

And probably even more cognitive things that I didn’t think of!

Brain fog is often caused by pain, fatigue, stress, or something inherent about your condition. It’s pretty common with chronic illness, but if you notice rapid changes for no apparent reason, don’t be afraid to get it checked out. A lot of the things that can cause brain fog are easy to catch on a blood test, and can then be treated. But for when brain fog is just part of the fun (sarcasm) that comes with your chronic illness, here are some ways to help cope:

-Try not to let the people who don’t understand get to you too much. Your struggles are valid!

-If people are being understanding, it can help to be honest with them about where you’re at that day. For example, if you can show up to class and just absorb some information, but don’t have the mental energy to answer questions, that’s okay! If your teachers are decent, you should be able to let them know this, so you can avoid getting put on the spot, and participate in whatever way works best for you.

-Find a system that works for you to keep track of everything (appointments, due dates, reminders, chores, etc) and stick with it! When you can’t consistently rely on your brain to remember things, it’s really important to have external reminders to keep you on track. I have a big giant paper calendar, but you can also use your phone, sticky notes, setting alarms, having buddy to help, or anything else that works for you. I’m sure there’s some cool apps out there for this as well. The reason I say stick with it is because if you can get your system established as a habit, that’s one less thing you have to consciously remember.

-Going along with my last point, it really helps to figure out what gets your attention. That’s one of the things that can really make or break your reminder system. For example, if you’re going to quickly get used to a sticky note and stop noticing it, maybe notifications on your phone will work better. In high school, I had a whiteboard calendar on the back of the basement door. That way, I could not leave for school without seeing it and remembering to check if I had what I needed for the day. If there was something really important, I would tape a strip of paper around my wrist, because that would really bug me, and keep reminding me to do the thing. These are just ideas, the key to this is whatever YOU are going to consistently notice.

-Tagging along with a friend’s routine and/or asking them to check in with you can help keep you on track. When you can’t seem to get started or figure out what to do next, having someone you can follow can be really helpful. I think this is related to the idea of “body doubling”, but I’m not an expert on that. That’s another strategy you could try though!

-If there’s something important you need to remember to bring with you, put it in the way so you can’t move on without it. Like, in the middle of the doorway. For some people, this also works for things you need to remember to do. Like if you’re lying in bed at night and think “Oh, I need to remember to water my plants tomorrow!”, toss something in the middle of the floor. So then when you wake up and go, “why is my water bottle over there??” it might jog your memory.

-Prioritize! Sometimes you don’t have the capacity to do it all, and that’s okay. If you just have to pick one thing to get done today, then that’s what you do. Putting your to-do list in order of priority can also help with deciding where to start and what to do next, because goodness knows decision making with brain fog is hard.

-Have a good-to option for when you just can’t make a decision. This one was my wonderful therapist’s idea! I have a really hard time deciding what to have for lunch, and that can wind up delaying lunch by an hour and creating a really frustrated Tea. So my therapist said, when that happens, just go to cereal, because we know that will be available and good enough. At least for me, it’s like having a magic escape from getting stuck trying to decide. I feel like this could also work for deciding what to wear? And probably lots of other things I didn’t even think of!

-When you can, plan challenging events for the time of day when you feel the best. If you can predict when you’re going to be extra tired and foggy, you can try to schedule around that too.

-Seek out formal accommodations at school or work. This can provide you with supports like having a note taker in class, extensions on assignments, having classes and meeting recorded so you can review later, extra time on exams, and access to tutoring. This process can be tricky, but if these things sound helpful to you, it may be worth a try. I have a couple posts about accommodations if you go look at the “Links To All Posts” tab.

-Study when you can, even if it’s for 5 minutes, even if it’s at a really weird time. And absorb what you can from class, even if it’s only a little, that’s okay. It’s absolutely okay (good, actually!) to take time off and just rest when you need it. What I’m saying is, if you feel okay overall but think it’s not worth going to class because your brain isn’t feeling 100%, it still might be worth it. You can still pick up a few new pieces of information while you’re half-listening, and start getting familiar with what you need to learn. This all adds up to less studying you need to do later, and makes it easier to learn new material. This strategy really saved me when I was a full time student AND taking lots of Benadryl. I would try not to stress about taking notes or understanding, and just absorb what I could. If this doesn’t work for you, that’s totally okay (actually, that goes for everything I say in this post!)

-If you take prescription medications, put them on auto-refill, so you don’t have to worry about running out.

-You can also usually sign up for reminder emails/texts/phone calls from your pharmacy, and doctor’s offices, and therapists.

-It’s okay to get creative when you can’t find a word! You can describe it, talk around it, or leave a blank if you’re writing (and then highlight it so you remember to come back later!)

-My overall theory is, if I know I’m forgetting something but can’t remember what, there will be another reminder later if it’s something really important. It’s not the end of the world if you’re a little late or disorganized, and having a chronic illness is hard enough, so go easy on yourself, okay?

As always, feel free to add your own tips onto these posts!

#chronic illness #chronic illness advice #teaandspoons #brain fog #chronic fatigue #chronic pain #disability #disability advice #spoonie #executive dysfunction #disabled

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n0bamak1s · 3 years ago

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whisper of the heart- megumi fushiguro x reader

summary: you begin to take notice of the name “megumi fushiguro” on all the tops of your library checkout cards. a semi-retelling of whisper of the heart featuring you and megumi. (genre: fluff, high school au, meet cute)

warnings: none! except maybe slightly ooc megumi

word count: 3.2k

a/n: hi everyone! ty all again for being so patient with me publishing this. i’ve been very busy with college apps lately, but i’m gonna try to keep this blog as active as i can while balancing it with school life. anyways, i had a lot of fun writing this, but i’m definitely not used to writing megumi, so feel free to leave feedback ^^ i also changed some details from the original movie and left it a bit open ended, so feel free to let me know if you want a part 2!

“who the hell is megumi fushiguro?”

your gaze was fixed on the faded ink reading the now all too familiar characters. the characters spelling out a name that managed to keep showing up on the yellow tinted checkout cards tucked into the books you borrowed.

nobara glanced over your shoulder, inspecting the piece of cardstock tucked between your fingers. wrinkling her nose in disgust, she plucked the card from you, holding it closer to her face.

“whoever it is, they have terrible handwriting.” she stuck her nose up, turning back to you with a playful smile. “i don’t know how you managed to get ‘megumi fushiguro’ out of that chicken scratch.” a face of mock distress crossed her features as she did air quotes around the name, as if she couldn’t believe such a delicate name would be given to someone with such handwriting. she’s always had a tendency to be a bit over dramatic about trivial stuff like this.

with nothing more than a huff in response, you snatched back the card, tucking it neatly back into your library book. your fingers grazed the worn down cover for a moment, gliding along the slight tears around the corners and the stiffness of the yellowing pages.

‘i wonder how many of these creases came from megumi fushiguro?’

“whoever it is, it seems like that name shows up in every book i check out in the library.”

nobara kicked a rock as she walked, leaving a small cloud of dust around her feet. “maybe you’re just imagining it. you always stay up so late doing whatever the hell it is you do in your free time that you’ve probably begun to hallucinate.” she nudged you playfully, eliciting a dead pan expression from you.

“i’m serious nobara. i mean, i’ve never really believed in fate but there’s no way it’s completely coincidental!”

she raised an eyebrow, as if to say you can’t be serious. “i think you’ve been reading too many romance novels, for all you know this person could totally be just some weird old guy with nothing better to do than visit the library.”

“hey!” you acted as if that last bit was a personal attack on you, and knowing nobara it probably was. “i’m not saying this megumi fushiguro person is my soulmate or anything, i just think it’s a very strange coincidence.” you shrugged off your backpack as you talked, putting away your book. noticing the suspiciously light weight of your bag, you rummaged your fingers around for a moment to find that your sketchbook had gone missing.

crap.

nobara turned to you, perceptive as ever of your suddenly altered demeanor. “forget something again?” it was almost annoying sometimes how well she knew you. was it really that obvious?

“just my sketchbook,” your hands rifled through your bag one final time to make sure you really didn’t have it “probably left it on the park bench or something, it’ll just be a minute to get it.” you turned to her with a sheepish smile, silently pleading her to follow you there. she stared blankly at you for a moment, probably having one of her internal monologues about how lucky you were to have her as a friend, before rolling her eyes and following suit.

“this better be quick, i have places to be you know!”

“no you don’t.” you turned around before you could meet her melodramatic glare.

behind you, you could hear her huff of dissatisfaction, though she made no move to leave, reassuming her position next to you, giving you a gentle nudge as she brushed next to you.

as you walked, the sunlight peeking between trees framing your pathway began to warm your face, highlighting the ends of your eyelashes and the tops of your cheeks with the warm glow of the first hints of summer time. for a moment, you closed your eyes, letting yourself be enveloped in it, before your fleeting thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a bike coming in your direction. you felt as if you’d jump out of your own skin in that moment, hearing a “move out of the way!” from a husky, disembodied voice.

it probably looked pretty ridiculous how you jumped out of the way, kicking up a fleeting cloud of dust as you avoided the sudden presence of the biker. grounding yourself, your eyes flickered up to the source of the voice, being met with the gaze of stormy blue eyes, framed by long, dark eyelashes that nobara would most definitely be envious of. taking in the boy’s whole figure, your eyes were drawn to the messy black hair atop his head, formed at the ends into contradictorily gentle looking spikes. the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up taut around his forearms, leading your gaze to his hands wrapped tightly around the bike handles.

oh, right. he’s still biking.

you turned your focus back to keeping to your side of the path momentarily, before the sight of your name written atop the sketchbook peeking out of his bag came into your field of vision as he continued to move past you. before you had time to think rationally, you turned to his now retreating form, breaking into a jog, kicking up a few more dust clouds as you did.

ignoring nobara’s incredulous calling of your name, you tried to call to the boy who had no intention of slowing down. “excuse me!” you cupped a hand around your mouth, hoping to project your voice louder. “hey!” the irritation in your voice was clear, but you breathed a small sigh of relief as the bike slowed to a stop, and the spike headed boy turned to your direction.

after an awkward moment of your continued jogging to him while he stood with a blank expression, you stopped in front of him, an accusatory look grazing your features.

“i think you have something of mine.” you tried your best to imitate the confident attitude you always admired from nobara, placing a hand on your hip and using the other one to point to his bag. his gaze followed the direction of where you pointed, his eyebrows raised while the rest of his face remained stagnant.

“oh, this?” he tugged the cardboard covered sketchbook out of the pocket it had been placed in, examining the cover. his eyes flickered between your name written in the top corner, and your currently annoyed looking face, as if he was playing some sort of word association game. you simply nodded in response, anticipation clear in your actions.

as he held out the sketchbook to you, he leaned down so his face was closer to you, as if to tell you a secret, voice low and eyes trained on you. “you should be more careful next time. you’re lucky i’m nice enough to not just steal this from you right now.”

you didn’t have an explanation as to why your heart began to race.

taking your silence as a response, he pushed it into your hands, his fingers brushing against yours gently. “nice drawings by the way, i recognize your friend over there from the portrait you drew of her on the first page.” his face remained stoic as he pointed at nobara, who was tapping her foot in boredom.

face warm from embarrassment, you snatched the sketchbook from where his hands lingered on it, muttering a bitter sounding “thanks” before stalking over to nobara once more, who looked relieved that she’d finally be able to go wherever it was she was going to.

“what an asshole.” you glared at him over your shoulder as he biked away, your gaze lingering a second too long for someone so insistent on hating him. nobara shook her head in response, clearly annoyed at your own obliviousness after witnessing the whole interaction.

a smug smile crossed her soft features. “maybe that’s megumi fushiguro.”

you raised a brow as you glanced at her. “as if!”

despite your insistence on your distaste for the mystery boy, he managed to have flooded your thoughts. ‘he must be using sorcery or something to keep himself on my mind, weirdo.’

still, you couldn’t deny how just a few more of your portraits were accented by ocean blue eyes, or pointed ends to the different mops of hair you sketched. how did you manage to keep attracting mystery people into your life?

when you returned to the library, you gripped a thick science fiction novel, the pages brushing your soft fingers as your marched it up to the checkout counter. as the librarian wrote the date on a small piece of cardstock, you took note of the fact that your name would be the first one there. had megumi fushiguro missed out on this one?

a pleasant smile stretched across your face as the librarian handed the book back to you. scrawling your name at the top of the checkout card, your eyes flickered to a stamp of ink beneath the slot for it.

donated by fushiguro.

of course it was.

the library door squeaked quietly as you pushed it open, one hand on the door, and the other placing your new book in your backpack. zipping it up and throwing it over your shoulder, you were met with the feeling of a dog sniffing your leg. your eyes trailed down to a dog almost akin to a small polar bear brushing its nose against your calf. reaching your hand to scratch softly against the back of his head, you coo gently at the not-so-little little guy.

“what’s got you all by yourself buddy?” an involuntary smile creeps onto your face at how he calms at your pats.

wordlessly, obviously considering this is a dog, he turns and walks a few steps forward, before pausing and tilting just his fur covered face toward you, egging you on to follow him just as you had the other day with nobara. you considered for a moment, before shrugging and giving in to his pretty minimal amount of convincing. nobara would be out getting lunch with maki today anyways, so you could use something to do today. after all, it could be fate.

it was almost as if you were one of those people who walked their dog without a lash, but in reality, it was more like the dog was walking you as it lead you down tall, sidewalk-lined hills and through parks filled with young parents having picnics with their children and couples going on walks. you wondered to yourself if this was a worthwhile excursion, was he just leading you to a dead end, or worse, was he some dog trained by a gang to lure people into danger?

after walking a few minutes more, you found out the spot you were being lead to was, in fact, even worse then both the possibilities you’d been brainstorming in your head, when you were met at the bottom of another hill with the stoic expression of that spike head. his eyes softened at the sight of the dog, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips that quickly vanished as he met your gaze, his eyes hardened in contrast with the bashfulness that shone on his cheeks.

“oh, you found him. thanks for that.” he cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting his gaze back to the dog. you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. to be fair though, what did you expect you’d do when you found where the dog was leading you?

“i should probably go.” your usually collected demeanor had been replaced with that of a puppy with its tail tucked between its legs. with a stiff wave, you took your leave, turning on your heel.

“wait.” his voice wavered, as if trying to catch himself before he spoke. “i can walk you home if you want. it’s the least i can do after you got him home.” he forced a smile onto his face, though it made him look more constipated than inviting. what happened to the snarky, aloof boy who had handed you your sketchbook just a few days ago?

still, you nodded, lips pressed into a line that you hoped resembled somewhat of a smile. surely, you should have been more worried about his sudden change in demeanor, but the relieved expression on his face seemed to soothe your nerves a bit. he assumed a spot next to you, tucking his hands in his pants pockets.

“your little buddy there lead me all over the city trying to find you, so i don’t exactly know how to get home from here, but maybe you can just lead me to the library.” you turned so you faced him, now aware of the close proximity between you two. nobara would probably laugh in your face if she could witness the moment you paused, stunned by the eye contact he made with you under his thick eyelashes. had you been perceptive enough in the moment, you may have noticed the blush creeping up his face. he nodded his head, which was already tilted down to face you fully, with eyes hazy and lips slightly parted.

“it’s just this way, i’ll show you.” he removed his hand from its pocket to point up the hill that had brought you to him in the first place. you gripped the straps of your backpack and faced in the direction he pointed to obediently, hoping to ignore the weird tension in the air. what could you talk to him about?

before you could continue your internal dilemma, he cleared his throat again. “you seem to like the library a lot, huh?”

by god was this boy terrible at small talk.

“i guess i do, but i don’t know how you came to that conclusion considering i only just brought up the library.” you cocked an eyebrow as you looked at him, probably sounding more annoyed than you’d intended.

he smiled knowingly at you, a hint of disbelief on his features as he raised his eyebrows. “i guess you wouldn’t know since your nose is always buried in a book, but i see you there like every day.”

your eyebrows furrowed so they practically touched, trying to rack your memory for seeing him in the library. “i’m sure i’d be able to recognize you if you did.” you were completely oblivious to the implications of how memorable you found him that laced your statement.

he shrugged nonchalantly. “believe it or not. i even tried sitting down in front of you a few times, but you were always too focused on your books to notice.” his smile was almost bittersweet as you waited by a stoplight. before you could respond, he continued. “it’s kind of admirable though. i think it’s nice that you’re so passionate about your books.”

you took a chance to look at him, really look at him, for the first time since you’d glared at him biking by. he held your gaze, eyes gentle. there was absolutely no way this was the same boy carrying your sketchbook in his bag from a few days ago.

“well if you think i’m so nice, what was with you trying to be all smart about my sketchbook?” ever the stubborn one, you were.

he shrugged his shoulders, shoving his hands back in his pockets. “you really should be more careful of your stuff. i was just letting you know. it’s not like i would have put in that effort for just anyone’s sketchbook. i guess i was just trying to make sure you wouldn’t lose it again. sorry if i offended you.”

the way he was blushing would have made any bypasser believe he’d just asked you to marry him.

“it’s just…” he continued “after seeing you in the library all the time, i thought you were really impressive. i thought if i tried to return your sketchbook, i could impress you too.” he kicked a rock that touched the edge of his sneaker.

“why would you wanna impress me?” your obliviousness was excruciating for the poor boy, though it was completely sincere on your end.

“you know, for someone so smart, you really are dense.” he pursed his lips, feigning annoyance. “and here i was thinking i was so obvious.”

at this point, you were nearing the library, and suddenly desperate to continue this conversation that you would have been dreading at the start of this walk.

“when it was obvious you weren’t gonna look up from your book, i tried checking out as many books as i could to get on your radar.” his smile had a weird hint of sadness behind it. you stayed silent, piecing together facts in your head.

“recognize the name megumi fushiguro?”

oh.

it pained you for a moment to know you’d have to tell nobara she was right.

“you’re megumi fushiguro?” your eyebrows shot up in surprise, mouth slightly agape. he seemed to stifle a laugh at your expression.

“i mean, what were you expecting?” he looked a little too smug for someone who was too scared to talk to you in the library.

“some weird old person, probably.” you shrugged, still with an incredulous look on your face. “i’m glad it wasn’t though.”

“oh?” he really did have a nice smile. “i guess you’re glad it was me then.” even he was unsure of this sudden confidence.

you pondered his question for a moment, but your body moved before your brain did, nodding your head slowly. he seemed to loosen up then, hands out of his pockets again, making you aware of how close you stood to him with the way his fingers brushed yours every few steps. a slight sadness filled your being as you stopped in front of those squeaky library doors that suddenly seemed so uninviting.

“i’ll tell you what then,” he started confidently, juxtaposing the bashful way he avoided eye contact with you all of a sudden “come to the library again tomorrow, and i’ll meet you there. really meet you this time, not just walking past your table. i can show you my favorites there and you can show me yours, it’ll be…fun.” he looked up almost worriedly for your reaction, slightly angry at himself for his sudden shyness, you seemed to have quite the effect on him.

there was a beat of silence, and he almost cut the tension in the air by taking back his request and booking it back home. before he could fully hatch his master escape plan, you reached over to grab his hand, his slender fingers lacing through yours. you gave it a light squeeze, and swore you could feel him jump a little at the contact.

“i’d like that a lot,” you looked in his eyes, which had gone from defensive to doe like in just your five words “megumi fushiguro.” he loved the way his name sounded coming from you. his anticipation cracked into a smile as he squeezed your hand back, and you prided yourself on getting to make him smile again.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, then.” he leaned down slightly as he said it, reminiscent of how he had scolded you about your sketchbook just a few days ago. you nodded in response, unable to stop the giddy smile stretching across your face.

tomorrow couldn’t come any faster.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk imagines #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

You Are Perfect

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky Barnes x PlusSize!Reader

Word Count: 1,900ish

Summary/Request: Can you write an imagine with Bucky and a plus size reader (if your comfortable with it) and basically the reader was going on a date but they got stood up and the date said next time to tell people their weight before going out, making the reader insecure, Bucky sees them crying when the come back to the tower, so he then tells her to clean herself up cause he’s gonna take her out and he reminds and shows her how beautiful she is. The rest is just fluff and you can add to it.

Notes: I hope I did this justice.

You never liked dating apps. You honestly didn’t know someone who really did. But Natasha insisted you get on one so that you could try and find someone. She even knew that you had a crush on Bucky, and still insisted that you get on a dating app. That only made you come to the conclusion that Natasha knew that Bucky didn’t feel the same. He was your best friend after all, and that was probably all you were going to be to him.

Natasha set up your profile, checking with you on the pictures to make sure you felt comfortable. It was hard for you to feel comfortable sharing pictures sometimes, especially when you knew you were bigger than a lot of other girls. After the pictures, Nat had done the swiping and eventually set up a date.

That date was tonight and both Natasha and Wanda were in your room getting you ready. They had picked the outfit, done your makeup and your hair, all without letting you peek. Wanda, with your permission, had made it so your eyes couldn’t see. Allowing them to work freely on you without any worries of you seeing.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky greeted, knocking on the door as he opened it. “Do you— uh, what’s going on here?”

“Y/N’s going on a date!” Wanda exclaimed.

“A… a date?”

“Yeah! We’re getting her ready.”

“Speaking of which,” Natasha added, looking you over, “we’re almost done.”

“Good because I’m getting nervous,” you commented, softly. “Do I… Do I look okay?” Bucky didn’t answer right away.

“You look beautiful. Right, Buck?” Natasha pressed.

“Uh, yeah,” he answered nervously. “You look great, Y/N. I’m just going to leave you guys to it.”

He quickly shut the door. You deflated, shoulders shagging and head down. All you wanted was to impress Bucky, which obviously wasn’t happening.

“Na-huh, none of that,” Natasha said, guiding your head back up. “You look beautiful and you will have great time.”

“What’s his name again?” You asked.

“Derek!” Wanda excited answered.

“He enjoys a good beer, he works out,” Natasha began explaining. "He’s a lawyer, I think. Don’t worry, not one of Starks. And occasionally enjoys long walks in Central Park.”

“Wow,” you rolled your eyes. “Sounds like I should just marry him now.”

“Hey,” Nat playfully swatted at you. “Stop. Can you agree to at least try?”

“Fine.”

You took a long look in the mirror. Your friends had really gotten an outfit that flattered you, so your confidence did begin to grow. You were going to be able to do this. You were going to be able to have fun and begin to move on from Bucky. At least, that’s what you had started to tell yourself.

~~~

You arrived at the restaurant first, nervously playing around with the napkin on your lap. You had immediately ordered a drink when you arrived so that you couldn’t feel too awkward waiting there. So wrapped up in your own nervous thoughts, you failed to realize that Derek was going on 20 minutes late. Maybe he was stuck in traffic?

“Do you want to begin ordering?” The kind waitress asked.

“No, I think I’ll—“

You were halted by your phone beeping. You glanced at it to see a notification from the dating app. Maybe it was Derek. You quickly opened the app and pressed into the notification.

Derek: You might want to warn a guy about your weight before a date next time. Or change the pictures on your profile to more accurately depict you.

The waitress tried to hold in a gasp as she read the message over your shoulder. There were immediate tears in your eyes. Letting out a trembling breath, you stood up.

“Ma’am, how about I get the chef to—“

“I’m fine,” you cut the waitress off. “I’m so sorry to waste your time.” With shaking hands, you pulled out an a hundred dollar bill that Tony had given you for emergencies. You set the bill on the table.

“No, I can’t—“

“Please, for your troubles.” A few tears escaped your eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

And you rushed out of the restaurant. The night was chilly and you had failed to bring a jacket. Looking around, you decided that you wanted to walk back to the Tower. You held onto your arms for warmth and you walked down the street and cried. When you got back to the Tower, your nose was red and running, not just from crying.

You were grateful that the Tower lobby was practically empty and that no-one entered the elevator with you. You wanted to go straight to your room, but your stomach had begun growling.

“FRIDAY?” You quietly called out to the AI.

“Yes, Y/N?” It responded.

“Is anyone in the kitchen?”

“At the moment, no. I do suggest you hurry. Sargent Barnes tends to get a drink around this time.”

With a sigh, you gave in to your stomach and allowed the elevator to stop on the common floor. You were on high alert as you headed for the kitchen, checking around every corner your came across. Eventually you made it to the kitchen, quickly grabbing a various amount of foods that you could carry. Struggling to see over the pile in your arms, you turned around and instantly ran into something—or someone. Causing everything you had grabbed to fly everyone.

“Yikes, doll,” Bucky chuckled. You quickly crotched down and began picking everything up. “Wait…” Bucky joined you. “Shouldn’t you still be out on a date?”

You didn’t answer, you didn’t even make a move to look at him. You just kept your head down as you rapidly picked up everything.

“Hey,” Bucky said, setting his hand gently on yours. He leaned his head down, trying to get a look at your face. “Can you look at me, Y/N?”

“I’m…” you cleared your voice, having sounded like you had been crying. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Look at me.”

“Bucky…”

“Did he hurt you?” You didn’t respond, letting a tear fall down your cheek and off your chin. “Y/N, did he lay a hand on you?”

“I…” You let out a whimper. “He…”

“I’m going to kill him,” Bucky growled, standing up. “Stay here. I’ll be—“

“No, Bucky, don’t!” You quickly got up and grabbed his arm to stop him. “Please. He didn’t touch me, I promise.”

Bucky took in your blood shot eyes and tear stained face, and his heart felt like it could shatter into a million pieces. He stepped closer to you, slowly reaching up his hand to brush his fingers against your cheek. You looked away.

“What happened?” Bucky whispered. “Tell me, please. I just want to help.”

You licked your lips as you nodded. Taking in and letting out a shuttering breath, you closed your eyes and tried to pull your thoughts together.

“He… I… He was late. And I…” You looked down out your hands, fiddling with them. “I thought it was just traffic, but after almost 30 minutes I got a message… and, from what he said, he had to have come to the restaurant and then left… my weight...”

“And what did the message say?” Bucky pressed, his tone gentle and kind.

“It… it said that I should have warned him about my weight before the date.”

“Your weight?” Bucky was shocked and so confused. What did your weight have to do with anything?

“And that I should change my profile pictures to more accurately depict me…”

“What? What gave him the right to say any of that?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “But maybe—“

“No! No but maybe. You don’t believe any of that, right?” Bucky’s hands went to your shoulders and he moved his head to meet your eyes. “Y/N, please tell me that you don’t believe a word that bastard said.”

“He’s not wrong… I’m not as small as many girls. I need to lose weight—”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no. Y/N, listen to me.” His hands moved to hold your face. “You are perfect just the way you are. Your weight is perfect for you. And you deserve better than that asshole. You hear me?”

“You’re saying those things because you have to… you’re my friend…”

Bucky shook his head slightly, wanting to tell you that it was more than that. That he wanted to be more than that. But he knew now was not the time.

“We’re going out,” he stated, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the elevator.

“No, Bucky,” you resisted, so tried too. “I really don’t feel like it. Plus there’s that mess—“

“Steve will clean it up in the morning. He’s always the first one up and OCD like that.”

“Bucky… I really don’t feel like going out.”

“Fine. Then we’ll stay in.” He led you into the elevator, only for himself to step back out of it. “Meet me in the movie room in 10 minutes. Change into something comfy.”

The doors began closing. “Bucky—“

“I’ll come up for you if you’re late.”

~~~

Though you didn’t want to, you did as you were told and met Bucky in the movie room 10 minutes later. You had changed into your comfiest, baggiest clothes, trying to hide your body from the world. When you arrived, Bucky had your favorite movie up on the screen, the popcorn machine going, and he was carrying blankets to the couch. That man worked fast.

“Right on time,” he smiled at you.

“You really didn’t have to,” you replied, shyly.

“Oh, I really did.” He plopped onto the couch, patting the spot next to him. “Come, sit.”

Fiddling with your sleeves you walked over and sat next to Bucky, making sure there was a decent amount of space between the two of you. Bucky sighed, noticing what you were doing but decided to give you your wanted space for a little bit. He started the movie and had FRIDAY dim the lights before handing you a blanket.

Not long into the movie, the popcorn was done and Bucky went up to get it. He put it in a large bowl before sitting himself next to you. You inhaled sharply as he set the bowl between you and rested his arm behind you on the back of the couch.

It was the middle of the movie now and you reached into the bowl for some popcorn, at the same time Bucky did. Your eyes snapped to look at him. Without taking his eyes off of yours and before you could pull away, he carefully took your hand and brought it up to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.

“You are perfect,” he whispered, breath fanning over your hand. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”

“Thank you, Bucky,” you breathed out. “For all of this. You really didn’t have to.”

“I couldn’t let my favorite gal’s night be completely ruined.”

“I’m your favorite gal?”

“Since day 1… you deserve better than a man who doesn’t see your worth.”

“And you think you’re that?”

“I’d like to try to be that for you. If you’d let me… so, Y/N, what do you say? Will you let me try and show you how perfect you are?”

You tried to suppress a smile. “I’d like that."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel imagines #marvel imagine

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arvandus · 4 years ago

Text

The Sound of Silence (18+ Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: After once again being stood up for a date at your favorite jazz club, you decide to give up dating entirely in favor of watching and fantasizing about your favorite jazz musician, Aizawa Shouta. You had assumed you’d never meet him face to face. You had assumed that he didn’t even know you existed. You’re about to learn that your assumptions are wrong.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/NSFW; reader wears a sexy black dress (minimally described); minor sexual harassment; slow build; praise kink (if you squint); hand kink (probably); fingering; ‘baby’ petname.

Special Note: A few days late, but here’s my contribution to the BNHarem January Collab ‘Making Beautiful Music’ posted by @kingexpl0sionmurder. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but this particular piece got a mind of its own and will at least have a sequel. If we’re all really lucky, it may become a multichapter series in the far and distant future, when my life is less crazy (I have ideas, ok??). In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 9486

Recommended Song: No specific song at the moment, but this was what I listened to while writing this.

Lesson 1

It was crowded tonight, the air of the small club Midnight hot and heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and booze. The noise of conversations and laughing voices filled the air like the buzzing of a hive, as bodies mingled about like busy bees, each looking for their own bit of nectar. Some looking to win romance. Some looking to win money. While others were simply winning by enjoying the company of friends. Their movements were carried on the music that filled the space, upbeat jazz played by a three-person band. It was comforting in its familiarity, developed over multiple visits – some with friends, some with coworkers, and some with potential love interests.

You sat at the bar, a drink held protectively in your hand as your eyes searched. You checked your phone for messages but found none. It’d been a full twenty minutes and you were pretty sure by this point that your date wasn’t going to show up. It was supposed to be your first date in over a month, and you’d had high hopes for it - you’d clicked well with the person on your dating app (or so you thought), talking over the course of a couple of weeks before finally deciding to meet. So tonight, you’d put in a little extra effort into your appearance, donning a black dress that showed off your curves and putting careful attention into your makeup.

Damn. You were genuinely interested in this one.

You sent them a quick text in the hopes that you’d get a response. Give them an extra ten minutes… You thought. Maybe they were caught in traffic or something.

But by the time you hit the 45-minute mark with no messages, you’d officially given up. A half-hearted sigh fell past your painted lips. You weren’t really too surprised by this point. You’d been having terrible luck in the dating scene for a while now. Sometimes it was them. Sometimes it was you. But for whatever reason, each attempt ended in failure.

Oh well. It was likely for the best. At least you would be able to enjoy the rest of your evening in solitude instead of enduring a potentially disastrous date. And as for your attire, it certainly didn’t hurt to feel sexy, even if you had no one to share it with.

You loved this place. The atmosphere, the music… you’d even managed to make friends with the bartender Hizashi to the point that he’d walk you to your car on the nights that you stayed until closing.

Your eyes scanned around the room, observing. Wooden tables littered the main floor, where small lit candles cast yellow light on observing faces, eyes trained on the musicians. Booths lined along the far wall, filled mostly with men who puffed cigars over a game of cards, their raucous laughter carrying through the din. Closer to the bar was an arrangement of tall, round tables with matching bar height chairs. A group of women, likely on a ladies’ night out, filled the table closest to you, taking shots and laughing, their heels perched on the rungs. Waiters zigzagged their way through the crowd with expert precision, platters held high with drinks and snacks, while patrons milled about, waiting for an open table.

And, of course, there was the stage itself, where the jazz band finished their final piece before collecting their instruments and leaving the small stage. All that was left from their departure was a black baby grand piano, property of the club. Your pulse quickened as you checked your watch. Was it that time already?

Not a moment later, there he was. Long, black, wavy hair pulled back into a half ponytail, the hint of a 5 o’ clock shadow dusting his jawline and framing his lips. He was dressed in simple clothes, as always… a black v-neck shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and dark jeans. He entered the stage without so much a glance towards the busy room, instead making his way to the piano with his hands in his pockets. He sat down and from your position at the bar, you could barely see his long fingers arrange themselves at the keys, gently curled.

As soon as he began to play, the mood in the club shifted slightly from buzzing to relaxing. The flow of his fingers across the keys drew a lazy melody reminiscent of rainy days and hot coffee; of snuggling under warm blankets, feet intertwined with a lover who danced their fingers across your skin, gently tickling your flesh the way his fingers tickled those keys.

Aizawa Shouta.

Of course you knew his name. The first time you’d heard him play, you’d felt weightless, your body going numb as every sensation coalesced into your chest like the forming of a star. The question of his identity had fallen from your lips before you’d even realized it, and it had been Hizashi who’d answered you, a chuckle on his lips.

Fuck. It felt like he was making love to you through the notes, each key meticulously selected like a carefully-worded love letter. It made your palms sweat against your glass, your breath hitching in your throat as that familiar sensation took you over, holding you hostage.

This. This was probably why none of the people you dated ever seemed to work out. You’d tried… God, you’d tried… some of them were nice, good people. But you couldn’t help but search for that feeling – this feeling – each time you met someone new. And every single time it fell short. It was an impossible standard, an invisible bar that no one was able to jump. Deep down you knew this, yet you couldn’t figure out how to let it go. It was just music, right? Played by a handsome man who didn’t even know you existed. But you didn’t want to let go of this feeling, to settle for someone that made you feel only an inkling of what he made you feel. Or worse, to let it go and be left with emptiness.

You had no solutions. You were trapped in Aizawa’s maze of music, unwilling to find your way out as his notes weaved a cage around your heart.

You lost yourself to his melody, the club around you fading away. Time lost its meaning as you watched his hands dance along the keys, his fingers nimble. His half-lidded eyes were fixed on the instrument before him, his expression neutral. To anyone else watching, he would look almost bored; but you’d seen him play often enough that you’d grown accustomed to reading the nuances of his body language, even across the smoky haze. You knew his look of boredom was really a look of focus as he submerged himself in his art, his hands playing on instinct, a direct link between what he felt and what he expressed.

He loved what he did.

And you loved watching.

Hizashi’s voice interrupted your hypnosis. “Another night solo, huh?”

You took a look at the bartender as he prepped some cocktails for some waiting patrons. He had his wire-framed spectacles on again, the orange tinted ones, the color visible from the white backlight of the bar. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and he wore a pinstriped shirt adorned with a black waistcoat.

You chuckled and took a sip of your drink. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“You got stood up again?” You shrugged and Hizashi shook his head slightly. “If they ain’t willing to show up, then they ain’t worth your time.”

“Probably more like the other way around, don’t ya think?” you replied wryly.

Hizashi scoffed. “Don’t let them get to you. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

You grinned and set your glass down. “Are you flirting with me, Hizashi?”

He grinned back and winked at you through his spectacles. “Always, darlin’.”

You chuckled and returned your eyes to the stage. “It’s okay…” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time I stopped trying.”

“Mhm…” Hizashi watched you stare at Aizawa and he raised an eyebrow. “Y’know, I can get you an introduction if you’d like…”

“What??”

“Don’t play coy with me, darlin’. You know who I’m talking about. If you want to meet him, I can introduce you to him. We’re good friends, he and I. Known each other for years.” He commented.

You weren’t surprised by this news… you’d seen Aizawa join Hizashi at the bar on rare occasions after his performance was done. But you’d always been occupied at a table with company when it happened.

Watching him from a distance was one thing. But actually meeting him? Up close? Where you couldn’t hide your girlish infatuation?

You felt your pulse quicken with dread, heat flooding your body. “No, it’s okay. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him.”

Hizashi gave you a skeptical look over the rim of his glasses before he shrugged. “Suit yourself, darlin’.”

The blonde stepped away, a new group of customers hollering for his attention. You took a large gulp of your drink hoping it would quell your nerves at the thought of meeting the man on stage. No. You definitely didn’t want to meet him. The last thing you needed was for your interaction with him to be a dud just like it was with all the others, destroying your own secret little fantasy. He was handsome to look at. And you fantasized about his skilled hands when you were in the quiet of your bedroom. But that was all it was; just harmless daydreams over someone you didn’t really know or plan to get to know. Besides, if you’d ever thought you had a chance with him, you certainly wouldn’t be trying to meet people through a dating app.

Gradually the time ticked by as you enjoyed watching the dark-haired man play, Hizashi stopping in to check on you from time to time and place fresh drinks in front of you. You were content for the time being, enjoying the steady buzz you were maintaining as you enjoyed the ambiance. Occasionally you people watched or engaged in conversation with Hizashi when he wasn’t busy… but for the most part, you relaxed as you observed the raven-haired pianist, letting his music ease the tension in your shoulders as the alcohol warmed your bones.

A few hours later, as you were busy talking with Hizashi, the final note on the piano rang out, signaling the end of Aizawa’s shift. The sudden silence hit you like a bucket of ice water, and your eyes darted towards the stage, your heart pumping panic through your veins. You had planned to leave just before his shift ended, just to make sure you didn’t run into him. Maybe it was the daydreaming, or the conversations with Hizashi, or the alcohol... but you’d lost track of time. Now you could only watch and wait to see where he’d end up, hoping beyond hope that he’d disappear like he usually did. Only rarely did he linger for a drink. What were the odds, right?

Tonight was one of those rarities, and you held your breath, your posture going rigid, as he sat himself a mere two seats away from you. He never once looked at you, instead, addressing Hizashi.

“Old Fashioned.” He requested, his voice deep. It sent a shiver down your spine as the blood in your veins turned molten. You knew instantly that that sound was now committed to memory.

“Do you even need to ask?” Hizashi replied with a grin as he slid the drink to him.

You disciplined your eyes to stare at your own drink as if it’d open up a portal for you to escape through. But as much as you struggled to control yourself, the simple gesture of Aizawa reaching for his drink made you break eye contact with your own. Your eyes caught how his fingers circled around his glass, long and surprisingly manicured. You couldn’t help but watch as he brought the drink up to his lips to take a sip, and from there your gaze followed the curve of his mouth, the stubble that framed it, his jawline, his eyes…

Your eyes made contact with his briefly and you quickly looked back down at your drink, your heart pounding in your chest.

Shit. He caught you staring.

You took a couple of deep swigs, forcing the alcohol down your tight throat, letting the burn of it act as a punishment for your violation. This. This was why you didn’t want to meet him. No words had even been shared yet and you were already making a fool of yourself.

“Long night?” Hizashi asked him. In the background, the next performer entered the stage and began to play, and you couldn’t help but strain your ears over the music to listen for Aizawa’s answer.

“I’ve had worse…” Aizawa replied. “You?”

“Busy, but I’m in good company at least.” Hizashi replied. Your heart pounded in your chest as your fingers tightened around your glass. Your eyes darted up to lock with the bartender’s and you caught him smirking at you, his small, pointed mustache following the curve of his upper lip.

He wouldn’t…

Suddenly another customer called for him from the other end of the bar. “Duty calls, friend. Be back in a sec.”

And just like that, you were left alone with him. Aizawa. Your mind froze as it warred with itself between actually talking with him or grabbing your things and running away. Surely Hizashi would understand, right? And you could always pay back your tab later. You took another deep gulp of alcohol in the hopes that it’d burn away some of your cowardice.

Before you could so much as open your mouth, the unwelcome sensation of an unfamiliar hand on the curve of your back made your body go rigid, every muscle poised to fight. A second later, the scent of hot breath laced in the stench of alcohol choked the air around you as an unfamiliar man slid into the open seat between you and the object of your affection.

“Hey there beautiful…” he slurred. “You’ve been by yourself all night… you in need of some company?”

You covered your hand over your glass and shifted away from him slightly, your demeanor cold. “No.”

“Aw, c’mon doll… don’t be like that…” he grinned. “You don’t come here dressed like that for no good reason…”

The man’s hand was still on your back, its presence making your skin crawl. It made the fog of your buzz lifting slightly, your senses suddenly heightened in the presence of a potential threat. Your eyes searched frantically for Hizashi. He had a way of handling drunken idiots. But he was stuck at the other end of the bar still, a drunk woman trying desperately hard to flirt with him.

You were on your own, and this creep clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer. Your brain started to fabricate worst-case scenarios and planning for them, a million options running through your mind. Screaming. Throwing your drink in his face. A well-placed kick to his shin. Your pepper spray.

Your free hand slipped into your purse, fingers closing around you’re the plastic cylinder. The feel of it gave you a sense of security, even if it might be a last resort. You didn’t really want to use it, especially with Aizawa sitting behind him… you never had to use it before, and you couldn’t guarantee your accuracy, especially in such a tight space.

You watched from the corner of your eye as the man’s free hand reached forward to grasp your own that covered your drink, and your grip around the cylinder tightened, a warning beginning to fall from your lips. But your words were cut short as the man’s hand was suddenly grabbed by familiar, long fingers and bent back at an uncomfortable angle that made the drunk cry out.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the man demanded.

Aizawa took a casual sip of his drink with his free hand while maintaining his grip on the offender, before pinning him with a dangerous glare. “She said no.”

The man’s hand left your back as he struggled to free himself from Aizawa’s grip. “Let go!”

“First you will apologize to her.” Aizawa ordered.

The man sputtered. “For what?!”

You watched in shock as Aizawa’s eyes narrowed. His thumb positioned itself on a digit and began pushing it slowly backward.

“For touching her without permission. For insinuating that her attire makes it acceptable for you to ignore her boundaries. For being a disgusting pig.”

With each statement, he pushed the finger back farther and farther, until the man was buckling to his knees under the pressure in an attempt to alleviate the pain and prevent the digit from breaking.

“Ow ow ow! Okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The man begged.

Aizawa held him for a moment longer before finally releasing him. “Good. Now get out.”

The man scurried away until he was out of reach before turning around to glare daggers at him. “Hey, fuck you man!” He shouted. But for all of his drunken bravado, he stormed out of the club clutching his sore hand to his chest, as heads turned to watch him leave.

The hum of voices within the club fell silent for a moment, with only the band continuing their music. After the front door closed, the noise of people chattering slowly returned, countless sets of eyes turning back to their tables. Aizawa turned his gaze back to you, the lethal look gone from his dark eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded mutely, swallowing the dryness in your throat as your sweaty hand released the pepper spray in your purse. Sensations warred within you, momentarily leaving you a confused mess. The speed at which he came to your defense and his willingness to resort to violence on your behalf fueled a carnal need you didn’t even realize you had. But even as hot arousal pooled deep in your gut, your heart still raced from the threat that had been quickly neutralized.

His eyes caught the movement of something over your shoulder and he cursed. “Shit.”

“SHOuTA!” Scolded a feminine voice.

He turned back to his drink, hunching his shoulders. “I told her not to call me that in public.” Aizawa muttered under his breath.

You spun on your stool to see the owner of the bar, Nemuri Kayama approaching, clad in a deep purple business suit with a dangerously low-cut black blouse. She was next to you in a matter of seconds, a cloud of strong perfume enveloping you as she snatched Aizawa’s drink from his hand as he began to raise it to his lips.

“What the hell was that?!” She demanded. “What makes you think you can attack my customers like that?”

“Your customer was harassing this customer.” Aizawa pointed out.

Nemuri looked at you with her lavender eyes as if seeing you for this first time and paused in her verbal assault.

“Is this true?” She asked you.

She had a presence about her that instantly made you find your voice again.

“He was being handsy and wasn’t taking no for an answer.” You confirmed.

“Can I have my drink back now?” Aizawa asked.

She stared back and forth between the two of you for a moment before slamming the glass down in front of him, half of the contents spilling over the side. “Ugh. Fine. But next time ask for one of my bouncers. Or Hizashi. Or me. Anyone but you.”

Aizawa’s mouth curled with a sly grin as he wiped at the spill with a napkin. “And why is that?”

“Because you scare away customers.” She growled.

Aizawa stared into his drink, swirling its remaining contents. “Well maybe you need better customers.” He took a sip.

“I’ll take whoever is willing to pay. Unfortunately for you, this club doesn’t survive off of chivalry.” She crossed her arms. “Besides… it’s less about losing that drunken idiot and more about losing those who saw you almost break his hand.”

“I wasn’t going to break his hand. I was going to break his finger.” Aizawa said.

You stifled a chuckle with a bite of your lip.

Nemuri rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Don’t try to make it sound like that makes it any better. And you!” She pointed at Hizashi, who had conveniently shown up not a minute before. “You know better than to leave him alone like this!”

“I can either be a bartender or a babysitter, love. I can’t do both.” Hizashi replied as he polished a glass.

Nemuri grumbled under her breath before turning her gaze back to you. “I apologize for Aizawa’s violent behavior.” “Oh I didn’t mind…” you confessed with a small smile, and you could feel Aizawa’s eyes flicker to you briefly.

“And I apologize for the inappropriate customer. Alcohol is no excuse for harassment. I guarantee he won’t be returning to this club any time soon.” She looked at Hizashi. “Get her a fresh drink.”

“Already on it…” He replied, sliding a new glass to you and removing your old one.

She looked back at you. “And your drinks are on the house tonight.”

“Thank you.” You replied.

Nemuri gave a satisfied nod. “Now I need to go schmooze the rest of our frightened patrons, which is exactly how I didn’t want to spend my evening.” With a final glare at the two men, she stormed off, her pointed heels clicking on the hard floor.

You stared at your new drink for a moment, the desire for it lost now. “Hizashi, can I have a glass of water?”

“Sure thing, darlin’.” Hizashi replied and placed a chilled glass in front of you.

You thanked him and took a sip followed by a long, deep breath. Aizawa moved into the now-vacant seat next to you, and you welcomed the closeness. The gesture felt protective, a warning to anyone else who was dumb enough to try their luck with you after that display. Noticing the closer proximity between the two of you, Hizashi quickly made himself scarce again.

“Thank you…” you said to Aizawa as your finger traced patterns into the condensation on the glass.

“It was nothing…” he replied. There was a long silence before he spoke again. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

You looked at him with surprise then. Scared? No. Aroused? Definitely. The dampness of your panties were evidence enough of that, but he certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Not at all.” You confessed. “I actually really appreciate it.”

Aizawa’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you asked. “You were so fast…”

Aizawa gave a small grin. “Piano isn’t the only thing I’m good at…”

You had no difficulty believing that…

“Were you a bouncer or something at one point?” you asked curiously.

Aizawa chuckled. “Yeah, something like that…” he took a swig of his drink, the ice in it clinking. The amber colored liquid was nearly gone now.

His response only gave you more questions, but you forced them down. There was a fine line between being curious and nosey, and you were too worried of crossing it, thus ending your conversation with him.

“You’re a regular here.” He commented.

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. He recognized you. You averted your eyes away in embarrassment, feeling suddenly exposed, your anonymity blown. How long had he noticed you’d been coming here? Did he know how closely you watched him?

“Yeah.” You confessed, as you took another sip of water. The alcohol next to it was calling to you, promising to ease your anxiety, but you refrained for the moment. You wanted to keep your wits about you while you talked to him.

“No company tonight?” he asked.

Oh. He watched you more closely than you ever realized. You weren’t sure whether you were feeling embarrassed or aroused. Was it possible to feel both?

“Not this time. I got stood up.” You replied.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet there.” He said, looking into his empty glass.

You gave a dry laugh. “True. I’ve dodged lots of bullets lately.”

Aizawa chuckled. “I believe it…”

Contrary to his outward aloof demeanor, he was nice. You could feel the tension in your body start to dissipate as words came easier.

“If you ever think you want to try a dating app, don’t.” you commented. “It makes for good stories, but sometimes it really makes you want to give up on humanity.”

That earned an honest laugh as he looked at you with a grin. “Well now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

You couldn’t help but smile back. This actually wasn’t so bad…

With amusement, you began to recount some of your more outlandish dating disasters with him, letting him in on the world of online dating from a woman’s perspective. Aizawa listened with quiet interest, making the occasional wry joke or, for the more serious cases, wearing a deep frown of disapproval. He was a good listener, and the conversation flowed easier than you had expected, words falling from your mouth without a second thought. It felt natural. Comfortable. And for the first time in a while, you felt like yourself. After you ran out of stories, Aizawa offered a couple of his own, and you found yourself laughing at his own tales of dating woes. As Aizawa talked, Hizashi stopped by to quietly replace his empty drink before disappearing again, a pleased smile on his face. His brief presence reminded you of your own glass pooling condensation on the paper coaster beneath it, and you returned to sipping its contents, once again finding the buzz you had been enjoying as you listened to Aizawa.

The time passed by as the two of you talked about the stress of dating and relationships. You’d learned that Aizawa rarely dated, but would occasionally have to endure awkward matchups thanks to Hizashi and Nemuri. You learned how much of a private person he was, how he generally avoided dating culture entirely in favor of letting life play out on its own. Everything about him exuded a man of experience and maturity, a man comfortable in his own skin and content with his life. You couldn’t help but admire him as you soaked in every little detail that you’d wanted to know, committing every little bit of information he offered up to memory. He was everything you’d imagined; kind, respectful, and serious with a sly sense of humor that he only shared once he was feeling comfortable.

Once the topic was exhausted, you sighed. “I think I’m done with dating.” You confessed. “I’ll just resign myself to my singlehood.”

Aizawa pinned you with a pensive look. “Is that what you want?”

Something about the tone of his voice made your pulse race with excitement.

“Well… It’s better than being repeatedly disappointed.” You gave him a side glance as you took sip of your drink. “But if the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Hm… the right guy…” Aizawa muttered as he returned his gaze to his glass.

Your statement was a bold one, filled with invitation. You hadn’t exactly planned for it to come out that way, but it was too late to take those words back now. You quickly tried to turn the topic back to him. “How about you? Any special someone for you?”

He chuckled. “No. No special someone. Not yet, at least.”

The words fell from his mouth like breadcrumbs leading to a secret as he eyed you over the rim of his glass. You felt lightheaded and warm, the tips of your fingers buzzing with numbness. Maybe it was the half-finished drink in your hand. Or maybe it was the look in Aizawa’s eyes that made you feel drunk, the Earth spinning under your feet as you mentally struggled to find some sort of purchase to keep from falling.

Was he…?

Hope held you captive and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close you were to him. Your eyes traced the scruff on his jawline, the stitching of his shirt, the slope of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. A stray strand of hair had come loose from his half-ponytail and was hanging over his forehead, begging to be touched. Your fingers twitched. If you reached out to tuck it back into place, would he let you?

You couldn’t muster the courage and averted your eyes. You were filled with alcohol and infatuation, you reasoned. Your defenses were down, your judgment potentially impaired… what if you were reading into something that wasn’t there? What if you were wrong?

You watched Hizashi close out a tab for an older couple as you took a sip of your water.

Warmth pressed against your forearm and looked down to see Aizawa’s arm resting against yours. All of your attention honed in on the softness of his shirtsleeve and the warmth of his skin as his hand fiddled with a paper coaster, flipping it over and over with each tap on the counter. The contact was intentional, calculated in its subtle intimacy. It was a silent question… a tentative invitation, absent of assumptions or expectations. Your doubt evaporated like mist and you understood.

He was interested. In you.

Your heart did a somersault in your chest as you sat there, stunned. Time froze as everything that’d transpired throughout the evening flitted through your mind. It was a perfect amalgamation of circumstances, leading to this single moment, giving you the one thing you wanted most. You held your breath as you stood on the precipice, uncertain if your next step would make you fall or let you fly.

You stared at the contact and carefully… slowly… brushed your pinky along the back of his hand. It traced the vein that stood out there, following it to the knuckle. His own hand let go of the coaster his was holding, his own pinky linking with yours in affirmation.

You couldn’t help the elated smile that spread across your face in that moment and when you looked up at him with a shy glance, he had a smile of his own, small and secretive as he stared at your linked fingers. Slowly the rest of his fingers followed, twining themselves into yours until he held your hand, his thumb brushing sensually against your skin. That single action alone was enough to reignite the fire in your loins, your blood racing through your veins from the epicenter of his touch.

Hizashi’s voice crashed through your private, titillating moment. “We’re closing up, lovebirds…”

Your hand pulled away from Aizawa’s on instinct as you looked around the now empty club. Only staff remained, finalizing the last bit of cleanup and arranging the furniture for the next day. How had it gotten so late so fast?

“You want me to walk you to your car?” Hizashi asked, a knowing grin on his face.

In all that had happened that evening, you’d forgotten about that little arrangement. But you weren’t ready to leave just yet…

Aizawa’s voice answered before yours could. “Leave me the keys to the place. I’ll walk her tonight and lock up when we leave.”

“Suit yourself.” Hizashi replied with a shrug. He placed a set of keys on the counter. “Don’t tell Nemuri, though. She’ll kill me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, friend.” Aizawa replied.

With that, Hizashi gave a small salute, grabbed his coat, and left. You watched, your heart pounding as the door closed behind him, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

You were alone with Aizawa. Completely and utterly alone.

Your turned back to face him and froze. Aizawa still sat on his stool, but he faced you now with an elbow propped against the counter, and that simple distinction made his presence fill your space. He stared at you, the look in his eyes unfettered now, deep and hungry. “You really do look beautiful tonight.” He complimented.

With the way the words fell from his mouth and curled warmly into your chest like a cat, you believed him. You felt beautiful.

“Thank you.” You said with a soft smile. “You look handsome yourself, Aizawa.”

He took your hand again and slowly began to lean forward, closing the small distance between you. “Call me Shouta.”

You swallowed. “Shouta.” You whispered, feeling the name on your lips.

His dark pupils dilated and you felt his other hand on your jawline, warm, long fingers wrapping towards the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were warm and soft as his stubble tickled your skin, and you leaned into it fervently, your hands finding their home on his chest. You could feel his toned muscles beneath the black cotton and a purr found its way to the back of your throat. Shouta took it as an invitation, coming off of his barstool to stand between your now parted legs, his arm wrapping itself around your waist as his tongue slid along your lips. You opened your mouth eagerly to taste the bourbon there, to feel the wet muscle dance and slide against your own. Every touch, every taste, every smell enveloped you further and further in the essence that was Shouta until your entire body was singing, teetering on the edge.

Oh God… you were not going to let yourself cum just by kissing him.

You pulled out of the kiss slightly as your hands pressed gently against his chest, and he retreated from you just enough for his eyes to search your face, a silent question in them.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” your words fell pitifully from your flushed, wet mouth, your voice shaky with pent-up arousal.

One second longer. One second longer is all it would have taken…

Shouta’s hand on your back began to rub soft, slow circles. “Would you like some water?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

You nodded, and he kissed your forehead before handing you your glass. You drank greedily before handing it back to him, half-empty.

“Have you ever been kissed like that?” he asked curiously, as he placed the glass back down onto the counter.

You gave a small laugh and shook your head. “No… not like that.”

Your confession left you feeling embarrassed, even as your chest felt it would burst from this latest turn of events.

You kissed Aizawa Shouta.

Actually, he kissed you.

You needed a moment to collect yourself, to process everything you were feeling.

So, you completely changed the subject.

“How long have you been playing piano?” you asked.

Shouta didn’t miss a beat, returning to sit on his stool to give you the space you silently needed. But his hand still held yours, resting on the counter as his fingers twined with yours. It gave you a sense of reassurance, that everything was okay, despite your awkward hesitation.

“My grandpa had one when I was a kid. Used to mess around on it.” He explained. “He finally got me lessons from a guy he knew, and I’ve loved it ever since.”

You smiled as you watched his thumb trace across each of your fingernails. You returned the gesture, tracing the details of his own hand. It was like living a dream, to see them up close and feel them, every fingernail, every vein, even the pads of his fingertips. The number of times you’d fantasized about these hands…

“I always wanted to learn how to play, but my family could never afford lessons.” You confessed. “But my mom used to have all of these old jazz albums, and I used to sit in my room and listen to them for hours.”

“I can teach you.”

Your fingers stopped their tracing. “What?”

“I can teach you.” He repeated.

You shook your head. “Um, no it’s okay… I’d probably be a terrible student anyway.”

“A student can only be as bad as the person teaching them. Follow me.”

Before you could protest further, Shouta’s hand closed around yours and pulled you from your seat. He led you up the steps of the stage and across it until you reached the black piano sitting forlornly in the empty space.

It felt strange being up on the stage, especially with the club being completely empty. The stage light was bright and warm on your shoulders, and the silence sounded different there, affected by the difference in acoustics.

Shouta sat at one end of the black bench and pulled you down by your hand until you were sitting next to him. The bench was small, meant for only one person, so you had to press yourself against him to be able to sit without feeling like you were going to fall off. Even then, it wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but you endured, if only to be close to him.

He released your hand and began his instruction.

“First thing you should know is how to find middle C. Everything else will center around this.” He pressed the white key with the thumb of his right hand, the note singing out into the empty space. “Then, it’s D, E, F, G, A, B, which brings you back to C. That creates an octave, also known as a scale.” He played each note as he spoke.

“What about the black keys?” you asked curiously.

“Those are the half notes. Don’t worry about those right now.” He arranged his hand back how he initially had it, his thumb on the middle C key.

“Now,” he continued, “First, you must learn how to move your fingers along the keys. Like this.” Shouta demonstrated the motion again, his fingers playing each note slowly in a steady rhythm. “The switch of the fingers is important. It will help you flow quickly and easily without having to watch where your hands are, which will be important for reading sheet music.” He repeated the motion again, the sounds once again ringing out. Then, he removed his hand. “Your turn.”

You bit your lip and placed your hand how you’d seen his arranged and tried. The notes were clumsy, lacking in rhythm and falling together as you forgot in your nervous haze where the switch of the fingers happened. Embarrassment flooded you and you withdrew your hand.

“Don’t expect to get it right on the first try.” He reassured. “Let’s try it again. Try to keep your fingers loose, curved like a bowl.”

Shouta modeled it again. You watched, but your focus was muddled with anxiety, attraction, and likely alcohol. It was a poor recipe for learning, but you knew he was trying to make you feel comfortable, and you didn’t want to turn down his kindness. You arranged your hand back on the keys again and tried again, with little improvement.

“I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered as you clutched your hand in your lap protectively.

His hand covered yours and you looked up at him to see him staring at you with warm patience. “It’s okay. If you don’t want to do this, we can stop.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open as you thought about it. You knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to quit. And sure, you felt silly being so poor at it when sitting next to someone who’s skills you idolized.

But did you really want to stop? How often would you get an opportunity like this?

“No, it’s okay. Keep going, I want to learn.” You replied.

Shouta watched you for a moment longer before he placed his hand back on the keys. “Place your hand over mine.”

You followed his instructions, your hand looking small compared to his. His skin was warm, and it calmed the shaking in your fingers.

“Watch where the fingers land. Feel how they move.” He played the notes, and you could feel the tendons of his hand tense and shift, his fingers rising and falling like a wave.

“It’s like they’re dancing.” You said. “You switch to your thumb on this key… E?”

“Yes.” Shouta replied in approval. “Your turn.”

This time you focused, remembering the feel of how his hand had moved under yours as you played the keys, switching your fingers at the right time. The improvement was noticeable.

He smiled. “Good. Now, for the other hand. You’ll start one octave lower. Can you find it?”

Your arm crossed Aizawa’s chest to press the white key, letting the sound ring out.

“Perfect. Only this time, your pinky will sit on this key, with the others following after.”

You placed your fingers across the white keys. “Like this?”

Shouta nodded. “Now you’ll try the same progression with your left hand. The middle finger will follow after the thumb plays the G note.”

You removed your hand so he could place his own and demonstrate it for you. You followed after him, imitating his actions, but this time your attempt was worse than your first, your hand angled awkwardly due to limited space as you pressed yourself against him.

“That was terrible.” You laughed. “I can’t reach very easily.”

A small mischievous smile formed on Shouta’s lips and he slipped his hand around your waist.

“Come here.” He said.

You didn’t fight him as he pulled you into his lap. His right hand settled itself against your stomach as his legs parted slightly to make room for yours, your knees drawn together between his. The heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your dress, weaving a tight knot of desire deep in your core that made your body go rigid as you tried to keep yourself from melting against him.

“Is this okay?” He asked, leaning slightly to see your face from his position behind you.

You licked your lips and swallowed, giving a nod. “Y-Yes…” you answered shakily. “Are you okay…? I’m not too heavy?”

Shouta gave a soft laugh. “No. Not at all.” His breath was hot against your skin and you could feel the scratch of his stubble as he spoke, sending goosebumps over your body. “Let’s continue.”

He placed his left hand on the keys again with ease, regardless of how poor his view of the piano was with you in front of him. He knew this instrument like the back of his hand; could probably play it with his eyes closed and never miss a note.

He played the simple notes again, C through B, fingers tip-toeing across the keys as he said their names out loud, helping you to remember them. You watched carefully for where the shift in finger arrangement happened, the middle finger following after the thumb just as he’d described.

“You try.” He instructed, his right arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back now, feel the strength of his body beneath you.

You loved this. The lap-sitting, the lesson, the praise. Each time Shouta praised your improvements it sent a thrill through you from your head down to your toes. To be complimented by him, even for something as simple as pressing a few keys… it only made you want to please him more.

You played the progression of notes with renewed motivation, once again showing improvement from your first attempt.

“Good.”

Your spine straightened against him slightly. The thumb of his hand caressed your abdomen where he held you.

“Now you need to learn to do the same but in reverse, until you’re back where your fingers started.”

You moved your hand away to let him demonstrate and his right hand left your stomach, leaving an ache in its wake. You watched both of his hands play the simple notes up and down, working together with ease. But you knew it was all a ruse… he made it look easy, but if you tried to do the same, you’d fumble clumsily.

“I don’t know about this…” you chuckled.

“It takes practice,” he replied, “until it becomes muscle memory.”

Shouta demonstrated it again, up and down. And again.

You placed your hands over his, wanting to feel the touch of his hands under yours more than the actual pressing of the keys. All you wanted was his arm around your waist again, his hand on your lower abdomen. His touch was tantalizing, and you wanted more of it.

He completed the simple scale progression two more times with your hands on top of his.

“Do you want to try?” he offered.

His hands left the keys to hold you again, his arms wrapped more tightly around you this time. You leaned against him, reveling in being held in his arms.

“I’m going to mess up.” You warned.

“Just take it slow.”

You shook your head a little and let out a small breath, shifting your position in his lap slightly as you leaned forward to focus on the keys. His arms loosened around you, his hands shifting to your thighs.

It was likely an innocent action, intended to give you the freedom to move as you made yourself comfortable. But as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the bare skin below the hem of your dress, that sharp zap of arousal tingled the ends of your nerves, causing you to suck in air and part your knees slightly, your walls throbbing in hopeful anticipation.

It wasn’t intentional. Your body just… reacted. But Shouta noticed instantly.

There was silence at first, his hands still on your thighs, waiting. Finally, he spoke. “Y/N….” his voice was huskier now. “How long has it been since you’ve been cared for?”

Embarrassment flooded through you. Embarrassment at your sensitivity to his touch, embarrassment at the answer to his question... You hesitated a moment before words fell clumsily from your mouth. “I, um… a long time.”

A low hum rumbled from Shouta’s chest as his fingers brushing gently along the inside of your thighs until they dipped just beneath the black fabric. The action was experimental, a testing of the waters, and it brought immediate results. Your thighs widened the slightest bit more as you failed to fight back a whimper, your hands grasping his arms in need. Not a moment later you could feel the growing firmness of his cock begin to press against your backside, despite the restriction of Shouta’s jeans. Shouta’s hands halted again their movement, waiting. He was miraculously under control despite his obvious arousal, and you envied him.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice low.

Of course you did. It was obvious you did. Why else would your legs be parting like the red sea as if he were Moses?

But for some reason, your body language wasn’t enough for him. He needed to hear it. A sense of urgency filled you, desperate need driving you. At this point, you’d give him whatever he wanted…

“Yes.” you begged. “Please, Shouta... Please touch me.” You leaned back against him, allowing the angle of your hips to tilt as your hands guided him further beneath the skirt of your dress.

With you draped onto him, your head tilted back, Shouta kissed the curve of your neck as his hands gently gripped the insides of your knees, pulling your legs apart until they were draped over his own. You were open for him now, your skirt hiked halfway up by the spread of your legs.

Your heart pounded in your chest with so much excitement that you could feel your own pulse in your neck and between your legs. This was happening… This was really happening… How many times had you fantasized about this very thing? How many times had you longed for this man, whispered his name on your tongue only to be met by the empty silence? And now here he was, freeing you from the shackles of your loneliness in the best way possible.

Shouta’s hands pushed the fabric up the rest of the way until it was pooled around your hips, exposing your panties. The thin cotton fabric did little to protect your aching cunt from the cold air, and you sucked air through your teeth at the sensation. His fingers traced invisible lines up the inside of your thighs, leaving nothing but singing nerves in their wake that cascaded into a shiver that rolled over your flesh, leaving goosebumps. Your body was already moving of its own volition, hips rolling, eager for Shouta’s fingers yet simultaneously attempting to grind down onto his restrained cock. Your breaths were already coming in hot and ragged, every inch of you frantic for the release that it had been denied all evening.

Shouta gave a low growl, his left hand holding down your hip, halting your movements. “You better stop that…” he warned.

No doubt your girating was making things difficult for him on his end. But you didn’t care. You were an unfettered, horny mess now.

A whine escaped your lips at his restriction. In response, Shouta’s left hand trailed up the length of your body, caressing over your breast before finding its home on your neck. His palm was against your voice box now, his fingers long enough to wrap around your throat and reach your jaw. There was no force in his hold, but it still held power over you, ushering your body into stillness while your chest heaved with heavy breaths.

“Patience.” He whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

Shouta followed up his words with more gentle kisses along your neck, your shoulder… wherever his lips could reach with you on his lap. The feel of his hand on your throat was a reminder of who was in control. But it was also a promise - a promise to ensure your needs would be met.

Once Shouta was sure he had your compliance, his right hand travelled the remaining distance of your inner thigh to arrive at your panties, where moist heat greeted him.

A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your back. “You’re so wet.”

A pitiful “yes” was all you could muster before the tips of his fingers brushed gently against your clothed sex, stealing your voice and replacing it with a gasp.

Slowly Shouta pet you, his fingers stroking gentle circles over the wet cotton, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath. With his hand still on your neck, you kept your body torturously motionless as he gradually increased the pressure of his digits, reducing his speed as he passed over your clit to drag the pads of his fingers over the bundle of nerves.

You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, the action causing your throat to press against his hand. “Please…” you begged. “I can’t…”

Shouta was strict, but not cruel. He obliged, slipping his fingers beneath the cotton to swim his digits into your juices, never breaking his circular, rhythmic motion over your slick entrance. The scent of your arousal surrounded both of you, thick and heavy.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he growled against your skin.

Two of his fingers dipped into you then, slow at first, allowing you to stretch around him as your walls quivered. Your thighs tensed at the intrusion, welcoming the stinging pressure as your core burned with fire. He withdrew his fingers slowly and you lifted your head to watch in carnal fascination to see his fingers shining wet down to the knuckles. He pushed them into you again, curling his fingers towards the sensitive, spongey tissue along the top of your walls, his thumb pressing down on your wet clit. A zap of stimulation fired from your core before fizzling away, a teasing warning of what was to come.

“Oh-Oh fuck…” you gasped as one hand reached back and grabbed a fistful of Shouta’s thick, dark hair.

He picked up his pace then, his thumb driving firm circles around your swollen pearl as the sounds of your wet hole being finger-fucked filled the silence of the empty stage. With each pass of his thumb, with each curl of his fingers, the heat grew hotter, your cunt swollen and burning with the need for release. Your thighs were tensed so tightly now that it made your legs lift and you had to brace your feet against the piano, discordant notes ringing out to join the sounds of your heavy pants and wet squelching in a lewd song. Shouta’s hand left your throat to hold you under your thigh to keep you steady as his other hand worked fast and hard to unravel you. With the absence of his touch on your neck, you were free to move your hips, grinding hard into his hand, his lap, whatever part of him you were touching. Your grip on his hair tightened, mirroring the tension building within you, clinging to him like the boughs of a tree knowing that any second the flood would come.

Shouta was your lifeline, your rock, your destroyer. You were the waves and he was the shore, and your body tensed to prepare itself to crash against him.

“Come on, baby…” Shouta whispered gruffly. “I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

You came with a cry, loud and frantic as your walls clamped down on his fingers. The ball of heat that you had been carrying like a stone exploded within you, incinerating every nerve from the inside out, leaving nothing but sweet, sharp, euphoria in its wake. Your walls spasmed repeatedly, sucking greedily on Shouta’s drenched fingers, as you cried and moaned, bucked and arched. Shouta’s arm was around your waist, holding you against him to keep you from sliding off of his lap as you rode the high of your orgasm, tumbling like a waterfall over and over again to finally become a puddle in his strong arms.

Shouta held you silently against him as your body twitched with aftershocks of pleasure. Once your spasms subsided and he was sure you wouldn’t fall from your perch, Shouta released his hold around your waist to draw his fingers up and down your arm, creating goosebumps under his gentle touch. His fingers were still in you, his hand cupped between your legs. The warmth of his touch on your tired cunt was comforting, and it brought forth a content moan from your parted lips. Shouta smiled as he planted another kiss on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that with him. But you finally made yourself sit up when you felt sleep starting to drag you down into its murky depths, your limbs feeling heavy.

Finally, Shouta spoke. “Better?” he asked.

You gave a laugh. “Much.” You looked down at yourself in amusement. “You made a mess of me, though…”

Shouta gave a satisfied hum and stared at his hand that held you. “I like you messy.” He stated.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me like this?” you teased.

He laughed and withdrew his fingers, wiping the slick coating them onto his jeans. “As much as I like that idea, no.” He adjusted your ruined underwear and the hem of your dress back into place before turning you around in his lap. His hands were planted on your rear, keeping you securely and comfortably in place. “It’s late. We should get you home.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. “What about you?” you asked, your eyes glancing down to his lap. Your hands began to trail down his chest to reach the button of his pants, eager to reciprocate.

Shouta smiled at you and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to plant kisses on your palms. “Tonight was about you. There’ll be more opportunities for both of us later.” You pouted and he chuckled. “Don’t give me that face.”

“It hardly seems fair…” you muttered. You were looking forward to enjoying more of him… you didn’t want tonight to end.

He hummed as he began to trail kisses along your jawline and you arched your neck to allow him better access. “We both… need sleep.”

Sleep? With his mouth on your skin, sleep was the last thing on your mind. Shouta pulled his lips away to look into your eyes again and you could see the fatigue there, dark circles framing bloodshot eyes. He really did look incredibly tired, and you couldn’t help but wonder how late it really was. You brushed the errant strand of hair off of his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

“Okay...” you softly agreed.

“You should come back tomorrow night.” He mused, the mischief back in his eyes. “We can continue our piano lessons.”

“I’d like that.” you smiled.

You couldn’t wait.

#aizawa shouta #Shouta Aizawa #Aizawa x reader #Aizawa x you #shouta x reader #Shouta x you #bnha smut #mha smut #aizawa smut #bnharem collab #Jazz Aizawa #Jazz AU #Music AU #BNHA music AU

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ppangjae · 4 years ago

Text

PLANET GIRL | part 1

SUMMARY. When Jaehyun turned twenty-one, he started to hear his soulmate’s voice singing an unfamiliar song in his head. He should be happy, right? Wrong. There are two things wrong with this:

He’s taken. He’s off the market. He’s in a 3-year relationship and,

The voice singing in his head is not his girlfriend’s voice.

Now what?

WORD COUNT. 6k+ words

author’s note. after much consideration, i decided to post this fic in three parts so that it’s not as hectic! you know me, i love adding ✨drama ✨ now, before you come at me for posting this and not a made to fall in love update, this first part of this fic has been done since mid-september. i’d rather release it than let it collect dust in my drafts. so yes, here she is. happy reading!

taglist: @billiondollarworth @cafemochi @stae-yong @chanyeolscoon @ggaayyyong @soothingjae @taestannie @plump-peach @oshmendes @lanadreamie @justineasian @jjpmoans @beryllium-io @jaeismytamtation @noonapabo127 @hanniesbubble

PART ONE. cupid | PART TWO. jupiter | 2.5 intermission | PART THREE. PLANET GIRL

“Mark, get your ass over here before I do it myself!”

“Holy shit, what’s the rush?”

“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day.”

“And what about it?”

It’s that time of the year again; Valentine’s Day. It’s the day where people fall in love or get their hearts broken. But to you, it’s the day where you’re designated to a new target. To put it simply, you’re Cupid. You are part of a family of Cupid’s. However, you hate being called Cupid, you moreso see yourself as a matchmaker.

Every Valentine’s Day, you’re designated to a new target. As a matchmaker, it is your responsibility to make your target fall in love within one year. If you fail to complete your mission, you will be stripped of your abilities of matchmaking.

Last year, your target was Johnny. Johnny was an easy target to work with, for he fell in love with the local cafe barista within three months. The two of them are happily dating now and it’s almost as if they’re still in their honeymoon phase.

Two years ago, your target was your roommate Mark. It took a while for him to fall in love. He was quite difficult to work with because he was so focused on his studies that he barely batted an eyelash at a human of the opposite sex. But you still managed to do it and all it took was to introduce him to Mina, the studious chemistry student who’s been crushing on him since freshman year.

But this year, you’re not quite sure who to expect.

“Are you getting your new assignment tomorrow?” Mark finally enters your room after what seems like forever, falling against your bed. He lands and lets out a soft ‘oof!’. You turn away from your desktop to face him.

“Of course,” you reply with a quirk of an eyebrow. “What kind of question is that? Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, the day of love and the day of heartbreak.”

“Are you excited?”

“Not the slightest bit.” You let out a tiring sigh.

“Why not?” He frowns.

“Because I have to stress over someone else’s love life for another damn year.” You shrug your shoulders as you explain. “I already have other things to stress out over.”

“You’re always granted a year per love assignment. A year is enough to make someone fall in love, right?”

You laugh. “A year per love assignment? I wish a year was enough. A year goes by with a blink of an eye. Before you know it, it’s Valentine’s Day again.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. Why don’t you just skip out on the matchmaking just for this year?” He suggests and you shake your head.

“I can’t.” You purse your lips into a tight line.

He lets out a snort. “I’m sure it’s possible—”

“It’s impossible.”

There are many great things about being a Cupid; you help people fall in love with each other and the outcome is always beautiful. But there are also many downfalls about being a Cupid, one of them being cursed to never fall in love. You’ve always craved the feeling of being loved by someone. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re needy for love. But the closest you’ll ever feel to being in love is witnessing the love being shared by two people, specifically between your love assignment and their soulmate.

You wonder how it feels to have someone care for you. You wonder how it feels to be sought after. You wonder how it feels to hug someone and hold their hand. But you guess you’ll never know because you’ll never experience it.

“God, I want to throw up.”

Johnny lets out a snort as the both of you pass by the seasonal section of the department store. There’s a plethora of Valentine’s Day chocolates on the shelves, along with teddy bears and heart plushies. Seeing the bright, flashing red on the days leading up to Valentine’s Day is surely a sore to the eye.

“I know, it makes me want to poke my eyes out.” Johnny sighs.

“And what are we here for again?” You ask Johnny as you follow him to the baked goods section of the department store. Your question seems to be answered when you find yourselves standing in front of a shelf filled with ready-made birthday cakes. You quirk an eyebrow. “Who’s birthday is it? It’s definitely not Mark’s birthday, don’t even try to trick me.”

“It’s Jaehyun’s birthday tomorrow, I figured it would be sweet of me to get him a birthday cake.” He shrugs his shoulders as he points between two cakes on the shelves. “This one or this one?”

You point at the plain birthday cake on the left. “This one. You know what would be really funny? If you printed his face on the cake.”

Johnny looks at you and squints his eyes. “You're a genius.”

You have no idea who Jaehyun is. You don’t even know what he looks like. You’ve only heard of him through Johnny. The both of them host the university’s famous evening radio show, Night Night with JohnJae. You’re a listener of their show, mainly because you are supportive of your best friend Johnny. You’re sure Jaehyun is a great guy, especially since Johnny and Jaehyun share good chemistry with each other. You’ll probably get along with him well if you met him. But that encounter has yet to happen.

As Johnny hands the cake over to the bakery chef to print Jaehyun’s face on it, he turns towards you. “And now we wait.”

“What time do you have to be at the studio?” You question.

He looks down at his watch. “I’ll make it on time. By the way, Mark has been making great song requests by this SoundCloud artist. From what he tells me, the artist is a student from our university.”

You quirk an eyebrow, gulping nervously. “Who’s this SoundCloud artist?”

“Planet Girl.” Johnny pulls out his phone and opens up the music app before handing it over for you to see. You stare at the artist’s profile. “Do you know her?”

You shake your head in reply. “Unfortunately, I don’t.”

“Damn,” Johnny lets out a sigh. “I was hoping you did. Jaehyun and I want her to be a guest on the show, it could probably help her get more attention in the industry.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you purse your lips into a tight line. “I only know so many people in my program. I have a very small, closely knitted group of friends. They are the only people I’ve known since I stepped on campus in freshman year.”

“I was hoping you’ve heard of her, at least.” He chuckles. “But damn, her music is so good. I can’t wait until her mixtape drops. I’m sure it’ll be such a banger.”

“I should probably check her out.”

“You should!” Johnny exclaims. “I wonder who she is.”

You fiddle with your fingers. You stare at Johnny who’s scrolling through the SoundCloud artist’s profile, adding a couple of the artist’s songs to his playlists. You blink and with a slight tilt of your head, you clear your throat. “Yeah, me too—”

“I have an order for Johnny!”

11:51 pm.

“Right before we sign off for the night, do you have anything to say to our listeners?”

Johnny has a shit-eating grin spread across his lips. He comes back into the studio with a birthday cake. It’s not just your typical birthday cake. It’s a birthday cake with Jaehyun’s face on it and it’s blown out in an odd proportion. The candles aren’t birthday candles either, in fact, they’re heart-shaped candles, perfect for Valentine’s Day. Jaehyun lets out a sigh. What is he going to do with Johnny?

“I just wanted to greet our handsome radio host slash Valentine boy, Jaehyun, a happy birthday! We have—” Johnny glances down at his wristwatch before continuing. “—nine more minutes before it’s officially Jaehyun’s birthday and Valentine’s Day. And what’s better than celebrating it with a birthday cake?”

“Is that my face?”

“Who else would it be, doofus?” Johnny scoffs, pulling out a lighter to light the candles. Jaehyun lets out a snort as Johnny starts to sing him a happy birthday. After the happy birthday song, Johnny frowns and sends him a death glare. “Why aren’t you getting emotional? I did all of this to get that reaction?”

Jaehyun gives him a look. “And so as we sign off for the night, I just wanted to thank Johnny for his efforts in kicking off my birthday on a high note. I also want to greet everyone with a Happy Valentine’s Day. Whether you are happily dating someone or admiring someone from afar, just know that you are all in our hearts.”

“Stop being greasy.” Johnny winces. “Anyways, we’re going to sign off for the night with a song request from Mark Lee! Goodnight and see you tomorrow, here is Loose by Daniel Caesar.”

They turn their microphones off and Johnny pushes the birthday cake towards him. “Quick! Make a wish before the candles go out.”

Jaehyun clasps his hands together and makes a wish. With a satisfied grin, his eyes flutter open and he blows out the candles. Johnny’s taking a video of him blowing out the candles before dipping his finger into the icing. Jaehyun gives him a warning look but it’s too late because Johnny smears the icing on his cheek.

“You little shit—”

“It’s midnight! Happy birthday, Jaehyun!”

12:01 am.

It all happens quickly. Johnny’s dipping his fingers into the icing to smear more of it on Jaehyun’s cheeks. Jaehyun hears a slight ringing in his ears and his eyebrows knit together. Johnny doesn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable Jaehyun feels until he’s about to smear his cheeks with icing.

“Jaehyun, are you alright?” Johnny asks him with a concerned look.

The ringing in his ears halts to a stop. He remembers this. He remembers his father telling him that he experienced a distinct ringing in his ears before he started to hear his mother’s voice humming in his head. Jaehyun blinks. The ringing in his ears causes him to see different specks of colours, red, blue, and even green. He feels like his head is spinning. He feels like he’s going to pass out. But it only happens for a brief moment.

Suddenly, he hears a soft voice humming a melody in his head. In an instant, the soft humming in his head stops him from seeing colours and he no longer feels faint. He’s too absorbed in his thoughts to snap back to reality. Johnny is waving his hand in his face to pull him out of his trance. Jaehyun sucks in a deep breath, almost like he’s gasping for air. The soft humming in his head slowly turns into a voice that’s singing an unfamiliar song. He’s never heard this song before.

Johnny sighs with relief when Jaehyun snaps out of his deep trance. Jaehyun looks at Johnny with slightly widened eyes.

“Johnny, I think we have a problem.”

Johnny snorts. “What are you talking about? You’re probably just tired. We should head back to the dorms before you knock out cold in the studio again.”

Jaehyun runs his fingers through his hair. “R-Right. We should probably go.”

Johnny rests his hand on his shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s—everything’s alright.” Jaehyun stutters.

No, nothing’s alright. Nothing’s okay.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out to see a new text notification from his girlfriend.

ara (12:03 am): happy birthday my love! and happy valentine’s day! i love you 3000.

Jaehyun just turned twenty-one. Not only that, but he just started to hear his soulmate’s voice in his head. He should be happy, right? Wrong. There are two things wrong with this:

He’s taken. He’s off the market. He’s in a 3-year relationship and,

The voice singing in his head is not his girlfriend’s voice.

Well, shit. Now what?

It’s the day you dread with your entire existence; Valentine’s Day. The campus couples flock to the local cafes and parks, the dormitories and even the campus football field. It truly makes you want to throw up. If you could take a shot of vodka for every time you’ve witnessed a couple kissing or giving each other their Valentine’s Day chocolates, you’d be shitfaced drunk by now.

The only person keeping you sane is Mark. But even with Mark’s presence, he’s too absorbed by the presence of his own girlfriend, Mina. You guess this will do. It’s not like you really have a choice.

Today, you’re going to get your new love assignment. You’re not sure who to expect. Every year, it’s become less surprising and more disappointing. You guess it has to do with your aching desire for love, but you’re not going to dive deep into that.

You’ll know who your love assignment is when you meet their eyes. When you meet your love assignment’s eyes, you won’t see yourself reflected through their eyes, but their soulmate, their partner you’re supposed to link them to. The moment you witness it, your year to make them fall in love begins.

Be careful though, time is ticking.

“Can you guys stop talking to each other in baby voices?” You snap at the couple sitting next to you on the picnic blanket.

The couple had decided to bring you along on their picnic date, just because they figured that you needed to ‘spice’ your life up a bit. You feel like a huge burden to them because whenever you’re with them, all you do is complain about all the things they do as a couple. Could you really blame yourself at this point?

“Y/N, if only you had a boyfriend, you would know how it feels.” Mina sticks her tongue out at you and you feel your eye twitch.

Mark lets out a nervous laugh. “Y/N is an independent woman who doesn’t need a man—”

“Yeah, your boyfriend’s right.” You cut him off, looking at Mina dead straight in the eyes. “Got a problem with that?”

“Stop giving me attitude—”

“And stop acting like I didn’t help you and Mark get together.” You snap.

She smiles and laughs sheepishly. As she gets up onto her two feet, she dusts off her straight-cut jeans before pointing towards the local cafe. “Do you guys want anything? My treat.”

“I’ll have the usual,” Mark replies. “Take my card—”

“Babe, no—”

“I’m not letting you pay for our drinks again—”

You let out a scowl, placing some cash into Mina’s hand. “Here. I’ll pay. I’m this close to ripping my hair off my scalp and it’s because of you two.”

“Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Mina frowns. “You’ve been petty all day.”

“Get me a double shot on ice,” you mutter. “No sugar or cream. Got it?”

“You’re just like how you like your coffee,” Mina folds her arms. “Bitter.”

As Mina is walking away from you and Mark, you fall back against the picnic blanket. The clouds come by in funny shapes today. You spot a tiny, heart-shaped cloud floating past in the blue skies. You snort, love seems to be everywhere today, even in the skies. Your eyes flutter shut. You’re so close to dozing off into a quick nap until you hear a loud yell from a couple of metres away. It’s too late for you to open your eyes and see who’s yelling because the moment you do, there’s a soccer ball flying in the air. The size of the soccer ball grows when you start to realize that it’s literally going to land right on your face—

“Nice save, dude.” Mark says as he looks at you with amusement. Just in time and with your fast instincts, you managed to cover your face with the palms of your hands to catch the ball.

Mark’s pulling you up into a seated position. As you sit up, you see someone approaching you from the corner of your eye.

“I’m so sorry about that!” A soft voice exclaims and you turn to your right. You look up at a woman around your age. She has long black hair and a soft face. She looks warmhearted. Her vibe radiates happiness and happy-go-lucky, welcoming and sociable. Everything you’re not. She’s sporting a soccer jersey and a pair of athletic joggers. “Are you alright? I hope you didn’t get hurt or anything.”

You wave it off. “I’m A-okay. There’s nothing to worry about. Here’s your soccer ball.”

She slightly bends down to retrieve her ball. Her long black hair blocks your eyesight for a brief moment until the wind blows it away. Your eyes meet hers and a soft gasp threatens to escape your lips.

You’ll know who your love assignment is when you meet their eyes. Her eyes are a nice warm brown, shining underneath the sunlight. You swear you could see stars in her eyes. No, scratch that, you can see galaxies and stars in her eyes.

When you meet your love assignment’s eyes, you won’t see yourself reflected through their eyes, but their soulmate. And indeed, you look at her with slight surprise and shock when you don’t see your own reflection through her eyes. Instead, you see what seems to be a soccer player. The more you look into her eyes, the more information you obtain about her soulmate. He slowly turns around and it reveals his name on the back of his soccer jersey—

“Yuta?” You whisper.

The woman’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. She takes her ball and straightens up her posture. “Thanks again. What’s your name? I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

You snap out of it. “Y/N! My name’s Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

She smiles and her eyes form into beautiful crescents. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Ara. I should probably get going before I run late for lecture. See you around?”

You nod your head vigorously. “Yeah, I’ll see you around. Nice to meet you too, take care.”

You find yourself staring at her as she walks away. Mark looks at you as you seem to fall into a deep trance. He follows your gaze that falls on Ara. “Hey, is everything alright?”

You tear your gaze away from her to look at Mark. “What’s her name again?”

Mark looks at you with a funny smile. “You forgot her name already? Her name’s Ara.”

“Mark,” you gulp nervously. “She’s my love assignment for this year.”

Mark’s face pales. His funny smile vanishes from his face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. You can’t seem to comprehend the expression on his face but you know that something’s not good. There’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach as Mark’s mouth hangs open.

“You’re joking, right?” Mark frowns. “How could Ara be your love assignment? That’s—That’s impossible, I—”

You shake your head. “I’m not joking. I didn’t see myself reflected through her eyes, I saw Yuta—”

“You saw Jaehyun.” Mark cuts you off. “Right? Jaehyun. You saw Jaehyun, right?”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Why would I see Jaehyun? I didn’t see Jaehyun. I saw Yuta, the university’s soccer team player. He was wearing a jersey and he turned around. I saw his name printed on his jersey. Nakamoto Yuta—”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.” Mark winces.

“I’m not kidding!” You exclaim in a panicked voice. “Why would I be kidding?”

Mark palms his forehead and lets out a laugh of disbelief. He shakes his head. You stare at him questioningly. What’s happening? What’s going on?

“Mark, you’re confusing me.” You say with worry etched on your face. “I am telling you the truth. I saw Nakamoto Yuta reflected in her eyes—”

“Ara is Jaehyun’s girlfriend. They’ve been dating for three years. Now you’re telling me that Ara’s your love assignment and you don’t see Jaehyun reflected in her eyes… but Yuta?”

“Holy shit.”

“I’m back with our drinks! Wait, what’s wrong? Why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

The image of Yuta’s reflection in Ara’s eyes never seems to leave your mind. In fact, it has been the only thing haunting you ever since. The revelation leaves you in nothing but a spiralling mess. You are required to make Ara fall in love with her soulmate, who so happens to be Yuta. But at the same exact time, to complete your mission, you must do something to end Ara’s relationship with Jaehyun.

You wish it was a joke.

It all comes down to whether you have the heart to lead Ara to her destined soulmate and end her relationship with Jaehyun or leave things for her to figure out but lose your matchmaking abilities as a Cupid.

The sticky situation makes you want to pull your hair off your scalp. It makes you want to look up to the heavens and yell at your ancestors for being Cupids, for passing down their matchmaking abilities to every generation after them, and for passing down the curse of never falling in love.

“Stop thinking about it too much, it’s making you age faster.”

You glare at Mark. “I don’t even know Jaehyun personally but I’m sure he’s a great guy who deserves everything in the entire universe, not some soccer player and a so-called Cupid to ruin his three-year relationship with Ara.”

“What happens if you don’t make Ara fall in love with her soulmate within a year—oh, Johnny, hey!”

Your mouth clamps shut and your head whips around. Johnny occupies the empty seat next to you and greets you with a light nudge. He nods his head at Mark. “What happens if what?”

Mark gulps nervously. He lets out a squeak. “Nothing!”

Mark makes eye contact with you and you give him a warning gaze. Johnny shrugs his shoulders and brushes off the conversation by starting a new one. “Tonight at six. Jaehyun’s apartment. We’re going to have a chicken and beer night.”

“This is exactly what I needed—” Mark points at him.

“I think I’ll have to pass on that one. I have a—”

“Uh, no you’re not.” Johnny shakes his head. “What excuse are you going to tell me this time? Your excuses are getting lamer every time. It’s quite obvious.”

You sigh. “I’d rather study. Besides, I have a midterm coming up and the last thing I want is to tank it.”

“It’s just one night. Chicken and beer. Who turns down chicken and beer? With friends, too?” Mark tries to convince you but you’re using your eyes to communicate the idea that this will not turn out well.

“Who’s coming?” You tear your gaze away from Mark when he doesn’t seem to take a hint. You’re reaching for your water bottle to take a quick sip of water.

“It’ll be me, Mark, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Ara,” Johnny recalls the guests from the top of his head. “Oh! Yuta is coming too—”

You choke on your water. As you’re going through a coughing fit, Mark grabs your water bottle to prevent any more water from spilling onto the table. Johnny pats your back. “Y-Yuta? As in, Nakamoto Yuta?”

Johnny smiles. “Indeed. Why? Do you have a crush on him or something—”

“No!” You and Mark blurt out in unison.

Johnny gives you both a funny look. “Okay, geez, I was just joking around. Unless, you do, have a crush on Yuta, Y/N—”

“Look who we have here.”

It’s a foreign yet familiar voice. You’ve heard that voice somewhere. You sneak a quick glance at Mark, whose eyes are wide like saucers. You could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he gulps nervously. Mark’s eyes trail down to meet yours.

“Jaehyun! Ara! Perfect timing!”

Definitely not perfect timing. You mirror Mark with the same wide eyes. It’s almost as if you’ve shrivelled up or froze up into an ice statue. Johnny doesn’t seem to notice you shoving your things into your tote bag out of sheer panic. Mark’s eyes dart between you and the newly-arrived couple.

“Hey, sorry, I completely forgot that I have a meeting with my group for our project.” It comes out as a squeak. Everyone’s looking at you and you can’t find the strength to look at any of them in the eye. But you can surely feel the attention that’s been shifted towards you.

“Leaving already?” Johnny pouts. “I just got here—”

“Sorry!” You exclaim, standing up from your seat and making a beeline for the exit doors of the study room. You look over your shoulder. Johnny has a cute pout on his lips as he watches you scurry away from them. “I’ll make it up to you!”

“You’ll make it up to me by joining us tonight for chicken and beer!”

When Jaehyun and Ara take up the spot you used to sit at, Mark can’t help but look at Ara with round eyes. He just can’t seem to look at Ara the same way anymore, especially when she’s with Jaehyun. Mark decides to settle his gaze on Jaehyun instead, but he still feels the same. He can’t look at Jaehyun the same way either. The first person that comes to mind when he looks at the couple sitting across from him is Nakamoto Yuta. The second and last person that comes to mind is you.

There are two innocent people being brought into this mess. It’s you and Yuta.

And what’s worse is that Jaehyun and Ara are just as innocent.

You and Mark find yourselves standing in front of Jaehyun’s door. Surprisingly, it’s quiet. You don’t hear Johnny’s loud voice through the thin door. Instead, right when Mark knocks on the door, you hear someone’s faint shuffling that gets louder and louder as they get close to the door. The door swings open and your mouth slightly parts open. This is—?

“Jaehyun!” Mark exclaims, crashing into Jaehyun’s arms.

You stand there awkwardly as you watch them embrace. Jaehyun pats Mark’s back until his eyes meet yours. Jaehyun. You’ve known of him. But now that you can put a face to his name, you’re immediately brought back to your freshman year, specifically your freshman orientation week. You’ve seen his face before. Jaehyun was amongst the popular freshmen in your year mainly due to his charisma and charm. By the end of freshman orientation week, he had become a magnet that attracted everyone to him. But not only did you remember him from orientation week, but you remember being one of the many people who were attracted to him. He had become your first university crush, but ever since orientation week, you never saw him again.

Until now.

“I’m guessing you’re Y/N?” Jaehyun asks and you find yourself snapping out of your trance. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”

You slowly nod your head. “Yes, that’s me.”

“The one that was scurrying away earlier?” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes. “God, please don’t remind me. That was embarrassing.”

“Nice to meet you,” he smiles and oh boy, are those dimples?

You swoon. Too bad Jaehyun’s off the market. But at the same time, it’s a shame that you’re going to be the one to ruin his relationship and put him back on the market. You muster up a smile. “Nice to meet you too, Jaehyun.”

You and Mark make yourselves comfortable in Jaehyun’s apartment. Your eyes scan the place and just by the small touches to his apartment, you can pick up what kind of person Jaehyun is. From the LP turntable sitting in one corner of the room accompanied by a great stack of records—he has some exquisite taste in music—to the mini fridge filled with bottles of wine, you can tell that he’s a young man with an old soul. You turn to your right when you spot a piano and a microphone stand. It’s a makeshift studio in the opposite corner of his living room. He sings?

“I’ve heard many things about you from Johnny,” Jaehyun starts a conversation as he hands you a can of beer. “And Mark, of course.”

You open the can of beer to take your first sip, making sure to squint your eyes at Mark. “I hope they’re good things.”

He smiles. “There’s nothing to worry about. They put you up to the highest standard.”

You cough. “As they should.”

Mark scoffs. “You’re being too obnoxious right now.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking another sip of your beer. “What’s taking Johnny so long to get here? After scolding me for bailing out on every single function, here he is, pulling up later than promised.”

“Speaking of,” Jaehyun says as he stares at his phone. “His uber just pulled up. I’ll meet up with him downstairs. While I go fetch him, make yourselves comfortable.”

Jaehyun leaves you alone in silence. The moment Jaehyun shuts the door, Mark shoots you a cheeky grin. He’s wiggling his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but squint your eyes at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that—”

“You like him, don’t you?”

You scoff in disbelief. “I do not like him like that—”

“You do.” Mark cuts you off. “I’m getting that type of energy from you—”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, I don’t like him like that. Besides, he’s in a relationship with Ara—”

“He’s in a relationship that you’re destined to end.” Mark reminds you and you frown. “What? It’s true!”

You shake your head and with a stern voice, you say, “I don’t like Jaehyun. I just find him... charming.”

“That’s all—”

“And handsome—”

“Oh—”

“And sweet.” You add. “But other than that, I don’t like him. I’m Cupid, remember? I’m cursed to never fall in love and so the chances of me liking Jaehyun? Very slim.”

Mark smirks. “But you find him charming, handsome, and sweet. Isn’t that more than enough to like someone?”

“There’s a very distinct line drawn between infatuation and love, Mark.” You state with a matter of fact.

“So, you’re infatuated with Jaehyun—”

“What’s up party people, put your hands up!”

Both of your mouths clamp shut at Johnny’s freakishly loud voice echoing the apartment the moment he walks in. You dumbly put your hands up and Mark lets out a loud cackle. Entering right after him are Ara and—

“Yuta, my right hand and my go-to!” Mark exclaims.

You wish you were invisible, especially when Ara spots you on the couch and sends you a wave. You’re mustering up a very tight-lipped smile as you wave back at her. Great, this is going to be a long night. Jaehyun follows suit, throwing his arm over Ara’s shoulder and pecking her cheek. Mark sneaks a glance at you as you’re tearing your gaze away from the couple to take another sip of beer.

“Y/N actually came for once,” Johnny teases you.

Everyone gathers around the small coffee-table. Scattered on the small table are three boxes of chicken along with a can of beer for everyone. You’re sitting right across from Yuta, who hasn’t uttered a single word since he got here. But surprisingly enough, his eyes meet yours and you quickly look away. Your heart begins to race.

And your heart starts to beat much faster when Yuta never seems to break his stare at you for the rest of the night.

Yuta has definitely seen you before but he can’t seem to pinpoint exactly where he’s seen you. It must have been a fleeting moment, where the both of you passed by each other unknowingly. But after looking into your wandering eyes, after watching you chug a can of beer right across from him, he has found his answer.

Valentine’s Day.

He was biking on his way home after a three-hour lecture. Too many couples. He remembers the excessive amount of couples strolling down the busy streets. He remembers having the urge to rip his eyes out whenever he came to a stoplight and spotted a couple sharing a passionate (way too passionate) kiss. But he also remembers the sudden loneliness he felt.

Ara. He’s always found her pretty in her own special way. His first encounter with Ara was when she auditioned for the co-ed soccer team. He was seated at the bleachers as one of the head coaches who chose the new team members. She was everything he adored in someone. It was like she had her own glow whenever she ran down the field, with her hair bouncing as she ran.

But too bad because she’s—

“Taken?”

Jaehyun let out a sigh on the other phone line. Yuta pursed his lips into a tight line. “Listen, I tried to get those concert tickets for you tonight through my connections. But all of the available seats are taken. Well, there are still some seats but the seats you wanted are gone.”

“Do you have tickets for other seats?” Jaehyun questioned.

“Yeah, but the seats are pretty far from the stage. Are you alright with that?”

He heard distinct chatter on the other phone line. He heard Ara’s soft voice and a smile threatened to escape his lips. Right… she’s taken by Jaehyun. “We’ll take them!”

“Perfect.” Yuta chuckled. “I’m on my way to your apartment, actually. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes to give you the tickets.”

Yuta turned to his right and into a familiar neighbourhood. He slowed down his bike when he reached Jaehyun’s apartment building. As he headed up a couple flights of stairs, he reached Jaehyun’s apartment completely out of breath. The door opened and he saw—

“Oh, hey, Ara.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Is Jaehyun here?”

Ara beamed up at him and nodded her head. “Come in. You look like you’re out of breath. Do you want a glass of water, or something?”

“I’m good. Thanks.” He mumbled, too shy and nervous to utter anything other than those three words. Ara bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. God, why is he so nervous around her?

“Yuta!” Jaehyun said in a sing-song voice, greeting him with a fist-bump.

“Hey—oh?”

Yuta clamped his mouth shut when he looked into Jaehyun’s eyes. Jaehyun’s eyes sure do look pretty, he could see stars shining back at him. But that’s not what he saw.

He saw an unfamiliar woman. He’s never seen her before.

In Jaehyun’s eyes, he saw a woman holding what seemed like a microphone. She had headphones on and her face was illuminated by what he assumed was a laptop screen. She was singing a song he couldn’t hear. Yuta blinked, soaking in every little detail about the woman he saw in Jaehyun’s eyes. But it was not long until his face paled when he realized something terrible.

The woman he saw in Jaehyun’s eyes was not Ara.

Valentine’s Day. It’s the day he dreads the most out of the entire year. It’s the day where he receives his love assignment for the year. He has one year to make his assignment fall in love with their soulmate. But how is he going to do that when his love assignment is Jaehyun?

Cupids are cursed to never fall in love. Although, Yuta does have sheer hope that he could definitely find love. How could he not, when he’s a hopeless fool in front of Ara? It’s this specific Valentine’s Day that he dreads the most out of all the Valentine’s Days he’s spent. Why? Because while he found out that Jaehyun’s soulmate isn’t Ara, that surely doesn’t mean that he has a chance with Ara. In fact, he’ll never have a chance with Ara. He could potentially be the man Ara will hate the most.

Because one way or another, he must tear Ara and Jaehyun apart.

author’s note. welp, i hope you enjoyed the first part! i should be able to post the second part after all of my midterms. look out for it! thank you for reading!

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