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jiminrings · 4 years

Note

Hey bb! First of all, let me just tell u how much I love your writing! You're fabulous, love. Don't ever doubt yourself. Secondly, I wanted to know if u could do a college professor! Jungkook and pretty student reader where Jk is absolutely enamoured by her.. (also, with a bit of the good ol smut🤭) It's a-okay if u can't tho! Just know that you're appreciated!❤️

the probability of us

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 6k

glimpse: jungkook’s the son of the university’s president, y/n’s cardigan is everyone’s favorite, and adjacent walls mean shared victories.

notes: there’s something so warm about this request that it made me write it as an actual fic and not a bullet one!!! i did alter it a little bit but i was genuinely so happy writing this so thank you sO much for this babe :D // gif from pinterest!

Jungkook, in his better and most definitely unbiased judgement, thinks he knows enough about you.

He knows you well enough to have noticed your patterns and habits with almost everything in between. They were predictable for the most part, and that was partly because he takes pride in being observational, but you manage to unintentionally throw him a curveball every now and then that makes him smile.

You always come into class when there’s atleast fifteen people in it and Jungkook wonders if you know it in the back of your head or if you just sneak a peek at the room every now and then. He’s not keen on being early to classes, and on the three straight occasions his dad left something in the classroom from the day before and got him to retrieve it for him, you were already there.

You’re fixated and practically attached to your knitted cardigan, seemingly having no problem wearing the same outfit for days straight — something so both adorable and visibly heart-racing when it’s almost always a tank top underneath that’s on the lower scoop, and a rotation of pants and sweats that sometimes feel so misplaced with your cardigan that it matches.

Jungkook’s found out that you probably wear atleast three rings on a daily basis, and that only took him two days to figure out because you’d exit the classroom with slight marks and indentations on your cheeks or on your jaw. Whether it’s to being sleepy, being bored, or being focused is something he has yet to discern — but yeah, he looks at you with his eyes silently when the class is dismissed, wondering if he’d see the same Pandora tiara ring mark on your cheek, or this time from a signet ring you sported more often.

He’s eight weeks in doing whatever this is. Whatever having the definition of him trailing behind his dad, a back and forth between his classes and his office, then them eating out for lunch break.

Sometimes, Jungkook forgets that his dad’s the president of this very university.

He’s only really known him as dad and he’s grateful for that, and the only times he’d see his father as the educator he was with the fancy doctorate degree was whenever Jungkook’s been a little lacking in his studies as a child up until high school. His mom, a doctor, would be on duty for nights and at home for mornings so that’d be the window she’d teach him the alphabet and addition with the carrying, something that eight-year old him would tear up just at the mention of.

His dad would just sit beside him in a very calm manor, take out two notebooks for one of them each, and make reviewers. Jungkook writes down what he knows and what his dad tells him to, highlights the key terms, and for some totally odd reason, making his own reviewers saved him from failing altogether and become an honor student with little help from his parents and most especially his dad.

It humors him that people are so rigid and intimidated by his dad, and he knows that not everyone would believe that this is the same guy that taught him how to give someone a proper wet willy. Jungkook sees people left and right going out of their way to greet him and pay their courtesies, stifling in a giggle that his dad also fights the need to laugh.

He loves and looks up to his dad, feeling a lot more thankful that he has a healthy relationship with his parents as an only child. Jungkook feels he owes that much to his dad that he took education for his college course, despite his blatant lack of interest for it.

And here he is — a senior at another college his dad’s not the professor of, studying a degree that he’s not gonna practice, and shadowing his father for eight weeks while he goes and teach for the “experience” as his dad calls it.

This has got to be a little ethically questionable, but that’s okay. Jungkook takes some comfort knowing that his dad’s the boss and he could just sit in a chair, pretending to absorb his lessons. In fact, he doesn’t even know why his dad opts to teach still even if he’s well high up in that ladder, the only explanation being that his father just really really likes teaching and not just be moving between airconditioned offices and meeting rooms all the time. And if that was enough, his dad just had to teach two classes to which Jungkook needs to accompany him in both — Statistics and English Literature.

Jungkook has a memory of stone that’s probably of the same kind the Code of Hammurabi was inscribed in (because he just swears his memory started way earlier than the age of four), because he practically knows everyone in each of his dad’s classes.

Eight weeks in. He’s only known that long.

But Jungkook knows for a fact that you’re never late — that much he knows. He refuses to believe that you’re actually gonna be late to class.

His dad comes in early and normally, he sits by his chair just when he’s a minute away from starting class. For some odd push today, he felt the need to enter the room with his dad and be early for once; but for the one time that he did this, you weren’t around for it.

You’re late, and you’re never late, and you’re throwing him a curveball, but something tells him in his gut that this just wasn’t something you pull out of your cardigan sleeve to confuse him.

You’re confusing.

You’re never usually confusing.

He visibly straightens in his seat when you enter the room with a sense of complacency and without the need to rush, the class only in the quieting down stages before the lesson begins when you walked in.

Mr. Jeon’s flickered to the entrance briefly, his tinkering with the HDMI cord continuing nonetheless. “Kook,” he just barely manages to get out because he’s already standing up from his seat, nimble fingers grabbing a slip from his desk that makes his dad perplexed.

Jungkook walks all the way to you at the back of the class, holding out the late slip to you a little too eagerly as it seems, and you can’t help but feel confused and irritated at the same time with how you started your morning.

For starters, coffee was spilled on your cardigan from the night before, and soaking it overnight in a mix of detergent, softener, and the tiniest bit of bleach wasn’t enough to completely rub the stain off — which meant you had to get up extra early to have it dry-cleaned (the staff looked at you a bit weirdly) and head off to where you needed to be, in a rush.

“But I’m not late though.”

You murmur as you peer up at him, refusing to even take the slip in between Jungkook’s fingers. He turns impatient, even more-so at your retort that honestly sounded genuine, that he settles on dropping it down your desk.

“You are, Y/N.” He says as convictedly as he can, only having to glance sideways briefly to your nosy seatmate to keep him out of a conversation he clearly isn’t a part of, and you make a note in your head to apologize to Jimin who gets scared easily, especially by the president’s son.

As if to prove his point, Jungkook rolls the sleeve of his bomber jacket in the slightest, enough for you to see a glimpse of his flashy gold Rolex in an attempt to tell you the time, one you couldn’t decipher because it was analog and your eyesight’s not that quick-witted nor clear.

“It’s three minutes before the start of the class,” you make it a point to outstretch your forearm, one that isn’t covered by your cardigan as he now realizes, your silver and digital Casio telling him that it’s 9:57, indeed three minutes away from the start of his dad’s class.

He barely even blinks before he adjusts himself to stand between your stretched legs so he could hold your arm and adjust your goddamn watch to be set four minutes later, his movements done so quickly that you straighten your back to the seat.

Jimin pretends he’s looking away, but deep down you already know that he’s gonna ambush you with questions as soon as Jungkook leaves.

“See that? You’re late,” he hums contentedly, pushing the late slip towards you and stands by himself with his hands across his chest, all-knowing that he wouldn’t leave not until you comply with his stupid request for a late slip.

His dad sees the interaction unfold from a distance, still confused but somehow amused, and a curious smile appears on his face as he now has something else to bring up on the dinner table later.

After all, he only called out to his son to tell him that they should go pick up a few groceries over lunch break — not to give you a late slip.

Jungkook collects the piece of paper from you wordlessly, letting his hand linger for the briefest moment but you pay him no mind, too occupied to looking at your left and gesturing for Jimin to scoot closer.

Something’s wrong.

His instincts are not exactly the most accurate but after all, it does account for something. He’s not the best at reading people when they’re indifferent, and normally you’re never indifferent to him.

He decides to lay low at that, sitting back on his chair and only twirling the slip in between his fingers and not once setting it down on the desk, preventing himself to look at it.

It’s only when his dad calls him to do a summary and explain to the class about his lesson’s breakdown, and he turns stern when he crushes the paper within his palm for the sake of being indiscreet that he totally wasn’t fiddling with paper for an hour and a half.

Jungkook returns and that’s when his dad starts giving out final reminders for their next meeting, straightening it out as much as he could until he can see your messy handwriting more than he could see the creases.

Tutored Hwang Hyunjin; state quizbee next week.

And why, exactly?

As far as he knows, Hyunjin’s the faculty’s favorite because he was such an intelligent student. He might be the favorite of his dad but he’s not entirely sure because his dad says he doesn’t like playing favorites, but he seems to think so nonetheless. If the guy who’s in the line-up for summa cum laude is asking help for a mere quizbee, what exactly is it for?

You’re an honor student, sure. In the dean’s list and in the running for cum laude, but you’ve said it yourself that you’re no Hyunjin and in verbatim, anyone who takes education as seriously as he does needs a hug and an emotional support system. Do you see yourself doing all the extra credits when you already have the highest average on all of them?

Did you hug him?

Jungkook scoffs to where his mind is running, a little dejected as he ponders on it even more as he stands next to his dad’s desk, nodding curtly at the students who bid him goodbye.

He’s extra quick to stepping up when it’s you who passes him, hands on his pocket as he asks under his breath.

“We cool?”

He tries to search for a hint of distaste in your face and he’s almost disappointed to find none, a genuine small smile on as you reply and come out the door without so much of a look back at him.

“‘Course we are, Mr. Jeon.”

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

“What’s up with you?”

Jungkook utters the moment the door of your apartment swings open. It was straight to the point, really. No buttering up to you and no unnecessary bullshit before he drops the question that’s been plaguing his mind the whole day.

You had only been brushing your teeth when you hear a series of crisp and heavy knocks that led you to think that your neighbor Hoseok next-door has finally screwed up the pooch completely, and accidentally set his kitchen on fire with the cookie batter he’s been doing a series of trial and error with for a dozen times already.

Oh.

It’s only Jungkook, then.

He doesn’t look the slightest bit concerned being out in the hallway that gave everyone an opportunity to see him. Frankly, everyone who’s set foot to the president’s office, which is everyone, could tell who he is simply by looking at the few hundred picture frames Mr. Jeon has on his desk.

He’s not concerned and he doesn’t have the gall to be concerned either, because as much as he knows that although underneath his dad’s section, the housing section of the college wasn’t under his close supervision. Besides that, he finds that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with this.

Jungkook only looks up to you for a few seconds, wide-eyed with your toothbrush in your mouth, and decides to let himself in.

This being yours and Jungkook’s interactions for the past eight weeks. There’s not a label to it, but it goes along the lines of the occasional fuck, and then the ranting about each other’s days, and binge-watching that either ends up as hook-up, or trying to pick up new hobbies the other’s just suggested, or whatever’s playing is actually playing and the two of you just watch, your head laid on his lap and his hand brushing your hair.

Yeah, that one. Whatever that’s called — that’s what you and Jungkook are.

It’s been painfully obvious to your tight knit of friends, namely only being Jimin and Hoseok, that those things practically yielded to the commitment of him being something that starts with boy and ends with a friend, no spaces in between and all in one word.

You blink away your internal monologue, remembering that you need to spit before replying to his question that he’s asked you point-blank two seconds ago.

“You saw me in class today.”

That one couldn’t be anymore obvious and he huffs at that, once again going on a grumpy fit of frustration while he lies on your bed upright, arms across his chest. “Off,” you swat his leg immediately, making him haphazardly throw away his shoes if he want to keep being frustrated with you.

That’s the exact bit though. Regardless if you forced him to take off his shoes while he’s on your bed, he’d be frustrated at you regardless. He doesn’t know why he’s frustrated with you in the first place and that just makes him stressed even more.

The realization hits him that Jungkook doesn’t really know why he’s so pressed about you, his tone considerably softening because now he feels a little smaller under your curious gaze.

“Yeah, yeah. I clearly know that. I, uh, I meant outside of class.”

Normally, he’d find your avoidance of things actually endearing because you seemed to worm your way out of any situation you just deem to be unrelated to you — but for the first time, he doesn’t know if you’re avoiding his question. If this was still your passive-aggressiveness or genuineness showing its head right now.

“You’re starting to sound like a professor, y’know,” you note with intrigue, relishing to how Jungkook lying on your bed and looking at you under such intensity seems normal to you at this point and at this moment. “A professor hanging out with his student outside of class, in her dorm, and on a weekday.”

The comment you add was supposed to be humorous but you find it rather odd now having said it out loud, the realization dawning on you that whatever this is, is just too ambiguous and vague that you’d never wanted something so specific in your lifetime.

“Just trying to appease dad. Do I look like I have the patience to teach a class, better yet show up?”

That’d be the actual bane of him.

Don’t get him wrong, professors must be so cool and patient with their workload and stuff, but holy fucking shit does he hate it for himself. He means no disrespect to his dad but he honestly can’t see himself doing what he does, even for a fraction of his life willingly.

You sort of envy him for the upbringing he has and the wholesome and healthy relationship he has with his family that you wouldn’t mind telling people all about. Not everyone expects Jungkook to be as family-oriented as he looks, and the little nugget of information he made you privy too puts a gentle smile of your face.

“You do have the patience to ask me if I’m okay though.”

It’s a question between reeling yourself in and putting yourself out there more, plopping to sit on the edge of your bed as you try to put lotion on your legs all the way down to your heel.

Jungkook finds it normal to see you putting lotion on and zit cream on your face, and he doesn’t question it for one second.

That doesn’t automatically mean that he’s gonna address it though.

“Well, baby, are y’okay?” he crawls the short distance from you, putting half of his body weight as he slings himself on your shoulders from behind, lips brushing against your ear as he pulls you tighter.

“Mhmmm.”

He finds it that as much as he pulls you tighter, you grow a bit more distant. You’re there with him but your mind isn’t, perhaps lost on the lotion that only adds into your scent that seems engraved in his mind nowadays.

Jungkook does as much as to tug a sleeve of your shirt to expose the slightest bit of your shoulder blades, pressing wet gentle kisses that leaves you, surprisingly, unfazed.

You make no move nor action, just continuing on rubbing your arms with your hands and him taking the momentary act of silence to look around your room, seeing your textbooks piled neatly on your desk with your lamp on.

“Long night?”

He asks and not a second later do you hum in confirmation, making him roll his eyes and his stomach churn, but it probably just has something to do with a heartburn that’s beginning to form because the ache’s spreading to his chest.

It’s got to be heartburn, right?

“Alright. Didn��t have to answer me too quick just so you can kick me out.”

He mutters underneath his breath a little hurt, taking your responses as his cue to leave. His flair for what you think is the dramatics makes you roll your eyes and slap his thigh, following him out on the way to the door.

Jungkook’s fazed because he doesn’t exactly know the essential purpose plus his expected outcome of this five-minute visit. He doesn’t have a clue, but dropping to your apartment unannounced and seeing you for just even five minutes, even if he doesn’t know why, doesn’t seem wrong.

What is wrong, is that you’d normally kiss him goodbye.

This time, you don’t.

... \ ( ♡ ) / ...

Jungkook’s gut tells him to come early to class, even telling his dad that he’d come down there by himself so he could scope out his class like the great son that he is, and he does exactly that.

Some of the early-birds are pleasantly surprised to see him there, early and alone without Dr. Jeon, sitting on his usual chair.

This setting’s odd for him and as much as he wants to leave, he doesn’t feel the need to. He doesn’t really care if he’s intimidating the students because after all, that’s not the reason why he’s here. In fact, he’s aware that he seems to be quite the talk of the campus, the verdict being half and half if he was as fun, easygoing, yet stern like his father — or if he’s something else entirely. Either way, none of them could catch on to the fact besides you that he’s not here out of passion, but rather obligation.

There’s less than thirty students in the room but Jungkook could just feel it at the back of his spine that you’re gonna walk through the door soon enough. You’ve got to be, right? Jungkook stands by himself near the door, practically barricading the door with how he’s built.

This familiar guy he can’t put a name to is walking through the door carelessly, eyes completely fixed on his phone that his shoulder’s barreling into Jungkook’s.

“Oh hey dude, what’s up?”

The guy in question barely even looks up for a second, a meek smile on his face before turning to his phone again and just staying there by the door, a character paused to block it all for a fucking text as what it seems.

Jungkook barely needs a second to look at him eye to eye; tall, pale, long blonde hair, and smooth pronounced features.

Hwang Hyunjin.

He’s only seen him in passing but never on this scale, his first instinct being straightening his back. They’re roughly the same height, Jungkook shoving his observation to the back of his head that Hyunjin’s only a millimeter higher than him.

He’s probably the only one applying pressure to this scenario, thick brows furrowing as he almost grimaces looking at the younger guy in front of him.

“Are you in this class?”

What?

Hyunjin’s confused to say the least, not only because this random dude he bumped into is suddenly making conversation with him, but because someone’s actually questioning about his presence here.

He lowers his phone, putting a pause to his heated exchange of which installment of this series they’re watching this, all in the favor for staring at this guy who’s cowling at him.

“... Yes?”

His answer even sounds unsure, Jungkook’s questioning raise of his brows prompting him to explain.

Hyunjin doesn’t even know why he feels compelled to explain but he does it nonetheless. “They say I could sit in this class. Some topics would show up in the quizbee next week.”

That’s just grand.

Before Jungkook can simmer in his irritation even more, his dad slips through the door by holding his shoulders in place, looking between the two of them briefly before walking to his desk.

“Kook? Thought you’d open up the lesson without me.”

Blondie tilts his gaze, eyes narrowing as he tries to scan a Kook in his brain’s directory and why it sounds so fond coming from Dr. Jeon.

“Mmmm, sorry dad.”

Jungkook emphasizes a little more than needed, turning to him and sending him a half-hearted grin while unbeknownst to him, Hyunjin pales and is having a breakdown and a half.

Did he really just accidentally bump into the college president’s son? Is he gonna be expelled now?

Jungkook’s oblivious to the inner turmoil that’s unfolding in the guy in front of him, crossing his arms before looking at his dad once more.

“Is he allowed here?”

He questions sharply like a toddler who’s just seen an inconspicuous man by the swing, his cheeks rounding with his lips pursed.

His dad’s really confused because this is the most intrigue he’s seen Jungkook inhibit for the whole eight weeks.

Of course his dad knows; he’s more than aware that his son has literally no interest in being a professor, and honestly speaking, he’s not even mad at that. He’a outsmarted him on this one and just went along with the lengths of hi son trying to impress him, falling into this eight-week routine of them bonding together with little practice teaching, yet Jungkook still wonders where he got his wit from.

He looks back and forth between Jungkook and Hyunjin, perplexed because he’s pretty sure that the two of them don’t know each other and that doesn’t explain the tension lingering.

“Hyunjin? Yeah. President’s lister, right?”

Hyunjin grins and chuckles at that, bowing slightly as he just passes Jungkook that appalls the latter.

“You put me there, sir.”

Jungkook mocks him under his breath, not going unnoticed by his dad who just chuckles all the same. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” he lies right out of his teeth, sitting on his chair and spreading his legs until his dad nudges him to be atleast decent because he wants the students to focus on his presentation and not his son’s crotch.

He feels cursed having such clear vision because even when the lights are dim, Jungkook still finds his gaze looking for you out of habit. Cursed for seeing Hyunjin sit on the other side of you and suddenly he wishes that this would be the time that Jimin interferes.

He’s unsure if you’re making him confused or he’s confusing himself, but the way his head feels like splitting just by thinking about you and what he could’ve done wrong tells him that he should be definite.

“Would you mind wrapping up the lesson, Mr. Jeon?” his dad asks outloud and for any other context, they’d share identical smiles on how they should be professional towards each other (as suggested by his dad) during class.

“Not at all, Dr. Jeon.”

God, he’s so oblivious to see how he has everyone gravitating towards him that it’s actually endearing. You sitting all the way up gives you a front-row seat to see how everyone sits up a little straighter and how heads follow his every move.

Jungkook has everyone wrapped around his finger and he doesn’t even know — you’re everyone; he can’t know.

He steps up to the plate and the natural dominance and hold he has on everyone broke through, a lesson about statistics never being this intense and a large majority of the people would really stay for another hour and a half if it’s Jungkook who’s teaching.

He’s so absorbed into summarizing as a way of destressing that he ended up giving perhaps one of the best makeshift lectures ever, his dad positively awed and ending up even more confused.

Jungkook’s coming down from his lecture high, nervously fiddling with his fingers as his dad gives the final reminders. What doesn’t help is also you coming out of the classroom with Hyunjin in tow, wearing your cardigan, and that’s what considerably sets him off.

Suddenly, he now decides that your cardigan is the ugliest and most disgusting piece of clothing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s the furthest thing from adorable, and the nearest thing into being set on fire.

You still smell sweet and homey when you’re nearing him, and the realization that your cardigan’s tainted by the smell of you and soon enough, Hyunjin will — it hits Jungkook too hard that he mutters under his breath, his jaw lax from being clenched.

“If you have a problem with me, just tell me about it.”

He can’t find the will in himself to care whether or not Hyunjin’s gone on without you and is waiting for you by the corridor, or that his dad’s arranging his shelf and could be possibly listening.

“I don’t,” your face reflects the same thing as your answer, devoid of any uncertainty that you have a problem with him.

“You don’t?” he prods further even if he knows that asking the second time wouldn’t even help.

“I don’t. Do you?”

There’s no malice in your tone. It’s the same gentleness laced with mischief underneath, head tilting in question.

That’s when he narrows his eyes at you, always knowing how to play your cards right without him knowing.

“With you or with myself?”

You shrug carelessly, an automatic giggle tumbling out of your lips that it bothers you too because you shouldn’t be okay with pulling yourself away from Jungkook, and the fact that it could be because you made peace long enough that the two of you will never be more is something to blame.

“You tell me, Mr. Jeon.”

He’s never hated his family name more and the formality preceding it than now. In reality, he’s just a year older than most of you in this class and the last time he’s checked, no one calls their senior, despite being from another university, like that.

Everyone assumed that he should be called with respect because after all, they’re probably looking at the future of this institution anyways.

Stable breaths aren’t enough and Jungkook seems to despise the way your slightest change towards him affects him the most, and his pride over not reaching out to your first has long been gone since.

He figures that this is just your way of detaching from him because his eight weeks are almost up, and that he should be totally fine with it because after all it’s only been eight weeks.

He can’t see another eight weeks of you pulling out from him, and even worse, eight weeks without you.

“We’re not cool.”

Jungkook says as soon as you open your door, not waiting for you to gesture him to come in. In any other situation, he’d find you adorable having traded your contacts for glasses, and absolutely sexy if his blood’s rushing elsewhere besides his cheeks. There’s no introduction of asking about your day nor catching you off-guard with a kiss either.

It’s him going straight to your bed and lying upright, looking at you somberly that you feel sorry you’ve been establishing this change in the first place.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

His question is a complete 180 from his voice that’s been gravelly since morning, sincerity underneath the rough edges.

You shake your head no, a signal that there’s absolutely nothing wrong and you don’t have anything to tell him about.

“Are you sure?”

He looks at you with wide reassuring eyes just begging for anything, atleast something, the only time that he wishes there’s something wrong going on so he could chalk it up to that instead of facing this shift with you blindly and aimlessly.

You’re wordlessly climbing up on bed too, making him automatically scoot over to his side of your bed when he stays overnight, instant warmth welcoming you just by having your shoulders touch with him. It’s a head nod of yes, I’m sure that there’s nothing wrong with your eyes closed.

Being beside him is the equivalent of all the comfortable nights you’ve slept. Jungkook’s the ultimate compilation and the most expensive goodie box of warm hugs and warm tea that tasted familiar instead of incredibly earthy. He’s white noise and eight-hour loops of rainfall against your windows and humidifier-goodness of sleep that you take indulgence and warmth in.

Jungkook’s in another realm of thought when he almost snaps at you because your roles have been reversed and it’s him who’s doting over you.

“Are you usually this non-committal?”

You’re always warm with a cherry on top when you talk to Jungkook, and just only two days of you giving him timid replies has him asking you if you’re the opposite of the adjective that people most commonly attached to you.

“I think we both know best that I’m loyal.”

You are.

It’s a word that’s almost always attached to your name. You’ve never really sustained a large group of close friends, and it wasn’t needed, but Jungkook finds it funny that you’re oblivious to how people look at you.

He’s well-acquainted with what goes around, and the only things that go around about you was that you’ve touched them in one way or another. You’re the most loyal friend Jimin has because you’ve stuck with him even if he’s spilled his guts on your bathroom floor, missing the mark of your toilet bowl. You gave up your bed for him and tucked him in even if he was still at risk of throwing up because he just couldn’t stop, and made him breakfast the next morning. You’ve only known each other for three days.

Hoseok considers you his most loyal neighbor slash friend ever, because you let him have a go at your pantry even if you knew at the back of your head that he’d screw up something in his recipe one way or another. Even started buying extra ingredients whenever he needs them, and him purposefully forgetting that he has brown sugar at the back of his cabinet.

You are loyal, and that’s what he sometimes hates about you too because it makes you more vulnerable. A little too easy to trample on. A little too easy to have you cheering for someone from the bleachers when they’re still on the bench.

Jungkook wonders if you’re loyal to him too, and if you were (which he’s sure of, and there’s no denying it), would you still be even if he feels like the two of you are growing apart?

“Then why do I feel that-“

He sighs in exasperation, head turning to face you and he’s greeted with your finger outstretched, digging in to where his dimple would appear.

He could look at you properly this time because he’s not in a rush asking if you’re okay. Eyes glazed looking up at him underneath your glasses, scrunched nose with the cutest smile and all that he wants this to never stop.

“Hey.”

You whisper in a rush all of a sudden, a toothy grin fading steadily when your thumb comes to rest on his cheek, whole hand soon pressed to it whole that Jungkook finds himself leaning.

“I’m in love with you.”

It comes out of you fluidly; no baited breath and no hesitation at all. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, actually. Not once did you think that you’d ever tell Jungkook you love him in this way, or ever for that matter, but it’s something that materialized out of thin air.

It’s as quick as a passing thought and as stable as a core memory, reiterating what is only a truth instead of a confession.

There’s no sadness in your gaze and no distrust either, but the smile that stretches on your cheeks doesn’t look as giddy.

He’s a little cross-eyed with how close you are, but Jungkook audibly whimpers when you pull away suddenly and out of the bed altogether, picking up your laptop from your table.

You don’t know what you’re doing either, but you could only hope that it looks as natural as it seemed, wanting him to know that your sudden realization that you need to make a twenty-page essay in size 12 font has nothing to do with your profession of love.

“But I know I shouldn’t, and besides, it’s a conflict of interest. Anyway, let’s just end this here now and-...”

“Are you insane?”

Jungkook exclaims in punctuation marks and of deep urgency, looking at you as if you suggested the most ridiculous thing ever after what you’ve just said, which you exactly did.

“Just continue loving me!”

He says it as the most obvious thing ever, his chest feeling an odd sense of relief after having blown up with emotion. He’s a sponge at this point in whatever relationship the two of you have. He’ll take what you can give, but this was something Jungkook would run to hell and back for to not take from you.

“You didn’t even ask if I loved you back! And that’s my honest answer, not something that would appease you when you return the question.”

He looks a little softer around the edges at the moment — arms flailing around and hair bouncing as he keeps moving his head.

His cheeks are puffed out when he’s angry and his lips are red from trying to get his point across strongly, stammering with what more he could think of in his head.

“It’s not a conflict of interest either! I only shadowed my dad to please him, but we both know that I don’t want to become a professor like him. You just think that it is because you’re up on the seats and I’m down on the podium!” he’s heated and his cheeks are warm and there’s no way it has something to do with your airconditioning.

“It’s a stint. It was a literal eight-week stint for free, because he’s the president for god’s sake — that’s it! I go back to my university in like what, a week? And they don’t even need me passing requirements, because they already know, again, that I’m the son of a university president! Honestly, it’d be stupid of them to.”

Jungkook feels like he’s gonna pass out with how overwhelmed he is. Too overwhelmed to the point that he doesn’t see you smiling out of the corner of his eye, hand rubbing down the length of his nape to his back.

It’s only then that you realize that he’s rambling and his voice is wavering, concern dripping down from you instead of amused laughter.

“Y/N, please, it’s convenient — more than convenient. I graduate this year, and you next year. The last thing I’d do in my life is grade papers. You know what I want to be? I wanna be-...”

Jungkook’s cut off with a tender kiss on the corner of his mouth that’s grounded him, blinking twice to look at you.

He should really kiss you right now.

“You could’ve condensed that into a single simple sentence,” you snort when you pull away from Jungkook’s hold, sending him a look of faux disappointment to which he whines. “It’s called I love you too, Jungkook.”

He squints at your teasing but reasons just as quick, sneaking in his head underneath your shirt to escape from your teasing and importantly, press a gentle kiss to your chest, then your boobs, and settling to lie down on your stomach as he’s content.

“I was panicked!”

Jungkook’s certain that he loves you, laughing to himself when he heard heavy knocks against your bedroom wall that just conveniently happens to be adjacent to Hoseok’s.

“Fucking finally! I was about to flirt with either of you just so you could cut to the chase and admit it to each other!”

Your laugh is the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, coming out from hiding underneath your shirt and just laying on top of your clothed tummy, hand looking for yours to hold on to.

You’ve been sleepy the entire time, he’s figured. You having switched to your glasses meant you’ve already had your night shower, and only had three hours maximum before succumbing to your bed. You’ve had a long day clearly, and it’s when you’re starting to succumb into sleep right exactly where you are that Jungkook suddenly remembers.

“You know what I want to be? I wanna be-…”

“With you.”

“Mhmm?” you all but mumble, feeling him adjust your head on the pillow while he lays on his, literal weight being lifted off from you.

Jungkook feels even more endeared if that’s any more possible, the tiniest boop to your nose and the softest kiss on your forehead.

“I wanna be with you.”

#fEEDBACK PLS AND THANK U :D #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook drabble #jungkook drabbles #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fic rec #jungkook fic recs #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook fluff imagine

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bnhaficsforthesoul · 4 years

Text

Love Languages –Shinsou, Bakugou, Monoma, Dabi, Shigaraki, Hawks

Warning: not nsfw but Dabi’s talks about fucking a bit just in case

Shinsou

One of his biggest love languages is spending time with you, showing you how much he cares about you by just spending as much of his time with you as possible

Most all of his free time and even beyond that sometimes is spent with you. Not even necessarily doing anything romantic, sometimes it’s just sitting together on the couch scrolling through your phones or doing respective work together at the table

He just likes being able to have you right there with him whenever he needs you, and loves knowing that if you need him he’s literally at arms length

Makes him feel secure that you won’t go anywhere too, sometimes he feels like if it’s not obvious that he loves you you’ll just leave, so he shows you by simply being around you as much as possible

He also loves doing things for you – it might be another factor of him feeling that he needs to show you constantly that he cares, but any time possible he will try to help you as much as possible

You text him that you’re hungry, he’ll bring you snacks. You need help with homework, he’s helping you study. Can’t reach something? He’s grabbing it for you even if he has to climb on a chair. Just any little thing to show you you can rely on him

Lastly, touch. Man lives for cuddling with you, he just wants to hold you in his arms and cuddle and kiss you forever. Is always holding your hand too, he’ll just play with your fingers or maybe kiss them and its very cute. Will also lowkey tear up whenever you make the first move to cuddle/touch him

Like if you reach out to play with his hair or just pull him into your chest hes just *tearing up* ‘N I C E’

Bakugou

Food is definitely one of his love languages – whenever you’re upset or you got in a fight he’ll bring you up some food to try and make you feel better

He’s not good at actually expressing how he feels, but he hopes cooking you your favorite meal tells you how much he cares about you

Especially when you’re cooking with him, it’s so calm and fun and he enjoys it so much

He’ll make sure you’re always fed, no matter what

Expect random texts throughout the day asking whether you’ve eaten or not, or more so along the lines of ‘You better have fucking eaten breakfast dumbass’

Don’t be surprised if he shows up randomly with little snacks too – they’re most of the time healthy ones cause he’s careful about what he eats and stuff, so he wants you to eat healthy

Another of his love languages is touch

It’s harder for him to accept at times, mainly at the beginning of your relationship when you’re trying to give him a hug and as much as he loves it he doesn’t know how to reciprocate it so he backs away

But he gets more used to it, and soon he’ll be reaching out to you for cuddles

He loves to hold you against his chest and cradle your head in his hand, it lets him feel that you’re not going anywhere and it lets you feel his heartbeat

Monoma

He loves giving and receiving words of love. He could go on forever about how gorgeous and amazing and wonderful you are, just seeing the smile on your face when he does makes him so happy

It’s even better for him if you don’t think so highly of yourself, because he wants to help you see yourself as greatly as he does – just thinking about you being proud of yourself could make him cry

And he wants nice words back! He doesn’t get them from others a lot, if anything he usually gets told negative things, so hearing how much you love him and all the things you love about him is the best thing ever to monoma

Finally – he doesn’t have to sit there and spout nonsense about how great he is to try to convince himself, cause you’re right there affirming it for him

Also loves giving gifts! They’re a lot of times quite fancy gifts, ones that might have you feeling more guilty than happy even though you are very grateful, but in Monoma’s brain more expensive means better so he’ll save up for you

But if you tell him that you’d appreciate anything he got you, no matter how expensive, then he’ll start giving more personal gifts and as soon as he sees how excited you get over these – he’s hooked

Still expect the occasional overpriced item though, he can’t help himself when it comes to you. You deserve the best

Dabi

Dabi thrives on words of affirmation and spending time together

He’s not always the best at touch outside of fucking, so he focuses more on telling you how he feels. Even then it takes a while for him to open up enough to tell you all these things, but he knows that you understand him

A lot of times you’ll have to take his seemingly meaningless flirty phrases a lot deeper than they seem, such as simple things like “you look hot” meaning that he thinks you’re beautiful. He’s never been openly much of a romantic, but in his head he sure is – he just doesn’t know how to express it to you but he wants to so badly

When he does open up – he goes all out. He can literally talk for hours about how much he loves you and how thankful he is that you’re there with him. He wants to cram it in your brain that you are incredibly important to him regardless of how he acts

And don’t be too shocked if he runs off after you tell him how you love him and stuff, he can’t cry but he sure feels like it a lot of times when he’s reminded that you just happen to care about him as much as he does you

Back to the flirting thing, a lot of times he will take acting like he just wants to fuck as a way of asking you to spend time with him. Yeah he’s always down for a good fuck, but that also means you’ll stay the night. And maybe he can convince you to stay tomorrow too.

From him not forcing you to leave him alone, he hopes that you’ll get that that means he wants you around.

Shigaraki

Touch! Sweet boy loves touch! He loves being able to hold you close and protect you from everything. He’s always terrified that you’re going to be taken away from him, but if you’re in his arms he can keep you safe

He is scared of it sometimes, knowing that if there’s an accident he could at best just seriously hurt you, but you say you trust him, so he continues to hold you close.

Hand holding is his favorite despite his anxiety, he will almost always be wearing a glove whenever he wants to hold hands, but he loves it. It means you trust him enough to touch you, and you’re so warm. He’s craved this for so long, he just loves it so much.

For him, shiggy needs to be told that you love him and stuff. He’s gotten addicted to your nice words directed at him. The first couple times you told him he was pretty he cried.

There are also times where his fears about touching you elevate to the point where he won’t let himself touch you, so when this happens the only thing that makes him calm down is you telling him that you love him and trust him, and beyond that that you’re never going anywhere, you’re going to stay by his side forever

He knows you love him, but it’s hard for him to understand why. So sometimes he really just needs you to remind him to make him feel more secure

Hawks

One of Keigo’s biggest love languages is time. Both giving and receiving – he wants to show you that even with his crazy busy schedule he still makes time for you. He tries to make it as fun as possible, taking you on nice dates or buying you both take out

That mixes in with his love of giving you things, he’ll grab you little things any time he finds something you’ll like. He’ll show up at your house all the time with a new gift or a bag of your favorite food or tickets to something you wanted to see. Just things to show his appreciation

But back to the time, because of who he is and the amount of people that have tried getting with him just because he’s hot and famous and all that – you just wanting him for him means a lot. When he says he can’t come over tonight because he has work and instead of getting mad you just go ‘that’s okay, I miss you but there’s always next time’ he appreciates it so much

Or when he’s like let’s go to this new expensive restaurant and you just wanna stay home and cuddle? Heart eyes. It shows that you don’t really care about all the fancy stuff or you’re not just using him for his body – you want to be with him because you love him.

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thetaoofzoe · 4 years

Text

Fic: The Company Woman 1/1

Title: The Company Woman

Pairing: CEO Henry x YOU

Summary: No other company has made you want to become a Company Woman. No other company made you want to surrender to your boss. I would suggest trying to get a position in this luscious Company, but only if you’re good ;).

Rating: Explicit. Unprotected sex, cock-warming, strict rules, Soft Dom Henry, giddy and willing participants

And thank you to my ever loving @lightsidecalling.

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Puckering your lips against one side of a small square of pink tissue, you watched yourself lightly dab at the other side with a soft powdered brush until you were satisfied you’d absorbed enough excess moisture from the matte lipstick. Carefully peeling the tissue from your dark cherry red lips, you tapped them with a clean manicured fingertip and then smiled at your reflection.

Perfect.

Picking up the parfum atomizer you layered yourself with a light floral scent. Not too much. Just enough so that the boss could smell it, appreciate it, but not be distracted by it.

Replacing the bottle on the vanity tray, your eyes drifted to the large pink sticky note affixed to your broad wall-length bathroom mirror. You leaned in to briefly consult it, as you had done every morning since landing a coveted position with The Company last year.

In your neat print, you’d copied the ‘Requirements for personal hygiene and workplace presentation’ instructions from your personalised employee handbook.

1. A bath or shower must be taken the night before bed and in the morning after rising from bed. Cleansing must pay close attention to delicate areas where unwanted scents can accumulate during general activities.

2. Hair must be neat no matter the style.

3. While professional whitening is not expected, you will maintain clean healthy teeth. At-home whitening strips are recommended.

4. Trousers are not allowed in the office and all clothing must be form-fitting, but not constricting or ‘tight’. Heels and nylons must be worn.

5. Makeup must be natural and unobtrusive and any scents must be light.

6. All foundation garments must not be detected beneath the outer clothes.

Mentally you ticked off the six boxes, stood back, and admired yourself in the brightly lighted mirror. You tucked the back of your rose coloured silk blouse into a darker rose coloured pencil skirt and made sure that the zipper that ran the vertical length of the skirt was centered on your backside.

Flicking off the bathroom light and picking a pair of matching shoes from the upper hall closet, you padded down the stairs to the lower level of your townhouse. Your work mobile was charging on the kitchen counter and picking it up from the cradle, you saw that you had a message.

A flick of your thumb across the dark screen revealed what Mr. Cavill wanted for lunch:

CUISSE DE VOLAILLE FARCIE AUX HERBES, JUS A L’ECHALOTE from Le Gavroche.

You hadn’t even had your own breakfast yet, and here he was requesting lunch. However, the thought of ensuring that your boss got whatever expensive meal he had a taste for that day, was exciting.

In fact, everything about working for the extremely posh company headed by five brothers was exciting. Everything was required to be of the highest quality and it was up to everyone involved to maintain the aesthetic of The Company. After all, appearances in that world were everything. One wrong move could spell the end of them. Nonetheless, you relished the strict nature of your working environment and eagerly submitted to your superiors.

Stepping into your shoes, and grabbing your handbag, you shrugged into a light jacket on your way out of the front door.

As a personal assistant to the middle (and in your opinion the smartest and most attractive) brother, Henry, your job afforded you the kind of luxuries of which you’d only dreamed.

When Henry travelled for business, you travelled for business. When he dined in impossibly decadent restaurants and slept in extravagant hotels, well, so did you. You didn’t always dine with him, (and you never slept with him), but you had unfettered access to all of the amenities that he enjoyed. The Company did well enough to, in turn, pay their employees handsomely and offer generous year-end bonuses.

You loved it. No other employer had been able to turn you into The Company woman you were now and make you like it. You loved your job so much that you barely blinked when, during a late afternoon meeting with Henry, he slid a neatly formatted document across his glossy desktop towards you.

You leaned in, but did not pick it up. You read it where it lay, white and crisp against the deep cherry mahogany.

‘This is a non-disclosure agreement,’ you said and let your eyes drift up to Henry’s face.

He looked cool and perfect in his bespoke icy blue three-piece suit, offset by a creme coloured necktie knotted in a full Windsor. The ticking of his wristwatch was loud in the silence and he held your gaze wordlessly.

Henry was all raw masculine power and you were aroused by him. Constantly. When you performed your morning and nightly routines, you thought about him, wondering if he appreciated the extra effort you put in just to impress him.

Had he noticed?

You sucked your lower lip and lowered your eyes to the document again.

‘Um..’

‘I want you to read and sign it,’ said Henry in his warm honeyed voice, and you were startled a little by the clack of the Montblanc coming down next to the document.

‘Is this different from the disclosure documents I signed when I first started?’

Henry leaned back, relaxed and the leather chair creaked softly.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You’ve been with us for what, nearly a year?

‘Yes. A great year!’

His rosy pink lips lengthened into a charming smile and you thought about how his nipples and his cock must be that very same colour. The heat of arousal rose in you and tingled between your thighs. It was a familiar and welcomed feeling, the muted buzzing that signalled the beginnings of your body awakening. You crossed your legs.

‘A great year,’ he agreed. ‘And, we want to continue to have more great years with you.’

‘I hope so too, Mr. Cavill.’

Henry’s blue eyes lowered to the document and you followed his gaze.

Picking up the pen you realised that your hands were damp. You were nervous and there was something tantalising hanging heavily in the air, something that you became much more aware of as you finished reading carefully through the document.

By the time you looked up, your heart was crashing against your ribs and it was hard to catch your breath. Without signing, you put the pen down, and neatly lined it up with the edge of the paper. You took in a long breath, held it and then let it out between perfect lips.

Your eyes finally met his and the shift in your relationship suddenly became very clear. It was no longer he who held the power in that room.

It was you.

Holding his gaze, you picked up the pen again and then looked down to carefully sign on the dotted line above your printed name.

You set the pen atop the document and with two fingers, slid it back across the desk to him. You saw him swallow hard, but that was the only crack in his impassive exterior. Henry picked it up, slotted it into a pale blue folder and stored it in the top drawer of his desk. The pen was capped and secreted into an inner jacket pocket.

He stood then and watching him walk around the desk to stand directly in front of you, you wet your lips and followed suit.

‘Don’t think I didn’t notice you,’ Henry purred leaning in to murmur against your ear. ‘Your smell, your lips… that beautiful arse.’

His broad hand came down hard on your bottom, grabbed you possessively and gasping with delight, you swayed against him.

‘Lucky for you,’ you answered and earned a soft chuckle from him.

You thought about resisting, pulling back to teach him a lesson for being so eager. You wanted to play a little, a little slap, and a little bit of rough. What was he like under that cool crisp exterior? Was he dull? Or was he fiery? You knew he played rugby in his limited free time and made regular use of The Company’s private gym.

So, just what was he like?

You lifted your face and moaned softly beneath the pressure of his kiss. He tasted just as you imagined. Expensive, masculine, luscious.

You pushed him back then, face brightening into a look of shock and faux outrage. Holding your hand against his broad chest you teased in a soft voice,

‘You. Didn’t. Ask.’

Henry gave you a sly grin and you were glad that there was nothing within reach on his desk because he effortlessly spun and then sprawled you across it. He dug his fingers into your hips and pulled you back just enough so that your bottom was presented perfectly to him.

You let out a squeak of surprise and bliss.

Well, you thought belatedly as he unzipped your skirt from the hem up, at least the zipper on the skirt was finally making its fantasy debut. You had purchased that skirt in the hopes that one day he would be doing exactly what he was doing now.

‘Mr. Cavill!’ you exclaimed, trying to swallow down a giggle as you attempted to press up from the surface of the desk. He chuckled, sounding smug behind you as one big hand eased across your back and pressed you down again.

‘Mmm,’ he murmured, voice soft with praise and anticipation as he stroked his fingertips up beneath the elastic of your garters, starting from where the laced edge of your thigh-highs ended, gliding elegantly up your overheated flesh, before fanning his hands to grasp you beneath your ass. He squeezed. Hard. And you let out a shuddering groan, only to bite down on the noise and jerk forward with a surprised gasp when Henry swiped a sturdy finger up the wet crotch of your panties.

You closed your eyes and when he leaned against you, you felt the press of his heavy erection through his expensive gabardine. You squirmed, and he leaned away to lightly slap your bottom.

‘Please… please Mr. Cavill,’ you whimpered when he stepped back.

God you felt so cold without him against your skin.

You reached back, scrabbling trembling fingers up under your flagrantly open skirt, hooking your fingers into the waistband of your panties, and attempted to pull them down. Henry stopped you and, grasping the edge of the thin pink scrap of material, giving it one sharp tug until it ripped easily.

Fuck.

His hand came down on your back again, holding you, and he licked the pad of his thumb before sliding it into your slick warmth.

‘Look at you. Look how wet you are. I love hearing you, baby,’ he growled, sucking your juice off of his fingers. ‘Taste so good.’

You heard him unbuckling and opening his trousers and bit down on your lower lip, ready for it. Yes, God. Yes, God, yes.

‘Do you remember rule number 10?’ he asked, leaning in close now, covering you with his hard body and rocking you up to your tiptoes. The scent of him made it hard to think.

Rule number 10 – internal contraception only.

‘Yes,’ you managed to say, your voice barely over a broken whisper. ‘Yes, Mr. Cavill. I remember. I ha-haven’t broken it.’

‘Good.’

Henry made a low noise in the back of his throat, a sound that rippled deliciously through you, and using both strong hands, he opened you. With a low growling gasp, he pushed so gently into you that you stilled suddenly and closed your eyes, shutting out every visual distraction in order to be able to deeply experience the heat and power of his sex. You arched and against the desk, splaying your hands but failing to hold onto anything. Seeing this, Henry lightly grasped your wrists and pulling them behind you, he pinned them together against your lower back.

‘I like you like this,’ he rumbled. ‘Be a good girl. You’ll be a good girl for me?’

It took a moment for your brain to start working enough to form a coherent response, but even when your brain engaged with rational thought, straying away from the thick, delectable cock easing hot and insistently into your body, you could only choke out,

‘Y-yes! Yes, Mr. Cavill. Yes. I’ll be good!’

Henry seemed satisfied with your enthusiastic compliance and then a short amused laugh came out of him when the phone on his desk twittered gaily.

You both stilled and you whimpered like a denied little puppy, your hands flexing against the slick, glossy desktop, nearly reaching out for the phone out of habit. It was your job to answer the phones for Henry, after all.

‘Answer it,’ he said and was magnanimous enough to release your hands and stop fucking you.

You naughty boy, you thought and with a trembling hand you reached for the desk phone.

The slim narrow plastic slipped a bit in your sweat-slick hand but your voice was surprisingly steady when you spoke between clenched teeth,

‘This is Henry Cavill’s office. How may I help you?’

A young woman’s chipper sounding voice started rattling off information that you were sure you should have been writing down, but all you could think about was that stiff cock nestling just that much deeper inside you. Henry rolled his hips just then and you clamped down on a squeal.

‘Bless you,’ the woman said.

You gasped and made a belated attempt at sniffling to support her assumption that you’d sneezed and not that you were getting a thorough seeing to by your boss.

‘Th-thank you. Is ahh.. is there anything else?’

There wasn’t, and when she ended the call, you just dropped the receiver and shoved back against him. Henry took this as a cue to redouble his efforts and you soon came apart beneath his expert handling.

Your orgasm took you quite by surprise as if a switch had been thrown and you buried your face in your arms, biting down on your forearm to keep from screaming as Henry gushed into you. Blood rushed to your head and you lay there, collapsed against the desk and didn’t move even when Henry finally drew back.

You listened to him cleaning himself up and then putting himself back into place.

‘Shall I?’ he asked and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him reach for the small box of tissues in that lacquered wood box you’d always admired.

You made a soft, blissful sound of assent and basked in the pleasurable strokes of impossibly soft tissues on your tender delicate areas. And you giggled at the final kiss Henry placed on your skin when he was done.

With clothes righted, and skirt securely zipped, you leaned against the desk and looked at him. He didn’t seem chagrined at what had just transpired, only satisfied and content.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ you admitted after a stretch of silence.

With the edge of his thumb, he stroked your cheek and curled the rest of his fingers beneath your chin. His kiss was tender and full of promise.

‘Have an early evening and tomorrow we need to discuss the Zurich trip.’

‘Yes, Mr. Cavill,’ you grinned and turned to leave the now overly warm office.

‘Come in early so that we can have breakfast together.’

Your heart leapt, but you kept your cool.

‘Yes, Mr. Cavill. Anything in particular that you want?’

‘Just you,’ he said.

Nodding, you closed the door behind you and did a full body dance.

The Company Woman indeed.

-end

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #ceo henry cavill #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #the witcher #man of steel #clark kent #mob boss #ceo #geralt #sherlock holmes #enola holmes

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127-mile · 4 years

Text

The drug in me is you.

Pairing: Doll maker!Kun x female reader.

Genre: Strangers to lovers, doll making | Fluff, angst, mature content.

Warnings: This is NOT what a healthy relationship is, this is pure fiction.

Manipulation, obsession, explicit major character death, non-explicit mention of death, violence, blood, alcohol consumption, oral sex (fem. receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, slight dirty talk, protected sex, drug use (note that the reader is unaware of the drugs being used at first, Kun tells her later) + The sex happens before Kun starts using the drugs on the reader.

Plot: One night, you met Kun in a bar. Kun was handsome, kind, caring, intelligent but he was also obsessed with dolls. You thought it was funny, until he made you one of his many dolls. Fear not, you are not just any doll, you are his best creation.

Word count: +10k.

A/N: Happy Valentine’s day guys! This is part of the 21 ways to kill your lover collab hosted by @du0tine. Please mind the warnings. Title from Falling in Reverse.

Tag list: @moondustaeil, @prettyjaems, @svchengss, @jaehyvnsvalentine, @xiaojunssmile

Chapter zero: his best creation.

It is said that the eyes are a window to the soul, but when they look at you, your eyes are glassy, it is impossible to read the slightest emotion, your soul is empty, your soul has been replaced by a void, by the nothingness. Yet, you smile. A smile that is hard to describe, it is not forced, but it is not genuine either. It's just there.

You look at yourself in the bedroom mirror, and you hardly recognize yourself. Your fingers rest on the choker that adorns your neck, and for a brief second, your smile wears off, and your eyes seem to clear, but it disappears just as quickly. The choker is in red satin, a heart-shaped pendant in the middle. A letter is engrave on it. K.

The alarm on your phone makes you jump, and you turn to the object on the nightstand. It's time for you to go downstairs for breakfast. Kun must already be waiting for you. You turn off the alarm, and leave the room. If the bedroom is warm, the hallways are cold, or maybe it is just the cold from the tiling under your feet creeping into your body.

The marble stairs shine under your passage, and you do not dare to put your hand on the railing, of fear of leaving a trace. The house is immaculate, pristine. Anyone entering the house unexpectedly would think that no on lives here, that this is just a show house. This is what you also believed the first time you came here. Everything is in its place. Everything is perfect, just like Kun.

You walk into the dining room, and you see Kun. He is seated at the table, his laptop where a plate should be, but you know that in the morning, he likes to work while you eat, so he can spend a little more time with you before going to work. And you appreciate that. At least, you think you do.

The chair creaks as you pull it away from the table, and Kun looks up from his screen. He takes off his glasses which he puts on the table, and he smiles with a sweetness that warms your heart. "Good morning, my love, how are you?" you hold out your hand for him, and he takes it to place a tender kiss on the back. "I'm fine. I missed you in bed this morning."

Kun nods, and he gets up from his chair to fill your plate with fresh fruits, and pancakes drenched in maple syrup, just the way he knows you like them. "I'm sorry, doll, I had some late work to finish." if you live for Kun, Kun lives for his work. It is sad, but that's how life is sometimes, but that does not mean he does not love you.

"Eat everything." he says, and you nod, picking up your fork. He takes your glass and pours some squeezed orange juice into it. He turns to a locked glass cabinet, and takes out a small bottle filled with a translucent liquid. He drops a few drops in the glass, and you watch him to it, your head cocked to the side. "What is that?" you ask, and he sighs.

"I told you before, it helps keep you a sweet little doll." you nod again, you seem to have heard that phrase once or twice before, even though Kun has had to remind you every morning for months now. But he doesn't mind, he likes to remind you that it is thanks to him that you are such a sweet doll. He kisses the top of your head, and you close your eyes at the contact.

"Am I your favorite doll?" you ask before stuffing a strawberry into your mouth. Kun sits down again, and he watches you for a second. "Of course. Of all the dolls I made, you are the one I love the most, you are my best creation."

Chapter one: finding the doll.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

You are surprised to hear a voice above the hubbub of music and conversations in the bar where you are. At first, you expect to find Taeyong grinning like an idiot, cheeks flushed from the alcohol he's been drinking ever since you arrived, but when you turn on your stool, you frown when you see a man you've never seen before. You tilt your head to the side.

"And why would I say yes?" you ask, and the man smile. He has two dimples that make him look a little more childhish, a thin layer of sweat sticks his hair to his forehead, but he is still handsome in the dimmed lights of the bar. The first two buttons of his shirt are open, and you can't help but glance at the sliver of skin. "The question is, why would you say no?"

You do not have an answer to that, so you nod and the man sits on the stool next to you. He calls out the bartender, and asks to put two glasses of whatever you were drinking. "My name is Kun." he says, turning to you, and he holds out his hand. Hand that you squeeze for a brief moment. "Y/n." he smiles once more. "Pleased to meet you."

"So what is a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" he asks, and you shrug, sliding your index finger across the rim of your glass. "This is my brother's bar." you explain, and you see the colors disappear from Kun's face, and when he is about to open his mouth, probably to apologize, you smile. "I'm just kidding. My best friend got dumped, so I'm here to support him as he drowns his grief in overpriced cocktails."

Kun's shoulders relax, grinning. "What about you?" he brings the glass to his lips to take a sip, and he winces at the sligh burn of the liquid in his throat. "Terrible day at work, I needed to relax." he explains in a low voice. "It's true that being in a crowded bar that smells like sweat and cheap alcohol is the best way to unwind from a day at work." you say, looking at him above your glass.

Kun chuckles softly as he puts his glass back on the bar, he rests his fingers beside it, and immediately regrets his decision when he feels how sticky the bar is. "It's always better than being alone at home." he says, and you agree, altough you are more the type to relax in bed with music rather than in a crowded and noisy bar. You would never have entered this place in your life if Taeyong had not begged you to come with him for over an hour earlier.

"Tell me about you, Kun." you ask, finishing your drink in one go, and you turn on your stool to face him. "I work in my best friend's law firm, I have a dog, and I love reading." he speaks in a bored manner, and you bite the bottom of your lip so as not to laugh. "I'm not the most interesting person here." you shrug, putting your hands flat on your thighs. "That's true, but there must be more than that, come on Kun, don't be shy."

Kun seems to think about it for a minute or so, yes he has more than that, but he can't really afford to tell you, not during your first meeting. His idea is to have a good time, and why not bring a girl back to his house, not to scare anyone and end up in prison that same evening. "I have an obsession with dolls."

This time around, you can't contain your laughter, and Kun is not offended, this is what he was expecting. "Dolls? Like barbies, or porcelain dolls?" you ask after catching your breath, you appreciate his presence, you do not want to see him go so soon, so you have to look and sound interested. "Porcelain dolls, but they are different, they all have stories."

"Stories? What do you mean?" you tilt your head, and Kun turns on his stool too. His knees bang against yours, and you glide your gaze down your legs for a brief moment. "These are not just porcelain dolls you would find in a store, they all come to my house with a clear story, and it is up to me to make sure they end their lives peacefully, and happily." that's fucking weird. "I don't know if you are being serious, or if you are making fun of me Kun, and you know what? I'm not sure I actually want to know."

You do not know how, but you went from an odd discussion about Kun's obsession with dolls, to this situation. Pressed against the door of Kun's room, you pant while feeling Kun's lips on your neck, his teeth digging into your skin, his tongue soothing the burn right away. Kun's hands are everywhere, under your top, along your still clothed thighs, you do not know where to focus.

"You are so hot, doll." Kun whispers hotly against your ear, and you bite your lower lip. "Is that why you brought me here?" Because I remind you of a doll?" Kun's gaze meets yours and he smirks. "Perhaps." you roll your eyes, and before you have a chance to open your mouth, Kun drops to his knees, ignoring the burn of the carpet, and when you give him permission to continue, he busy himself by removing your pants and panties. He slips one of your legs over his shoulder, and he covers your thighs with hot burning kisses and bites.

Kun does everything he can to avoid the area you want him the most, and you begin to whimper impatiently. He laughs as he licks his last bite to soothe the pain, and he looks up at you. You look like a work of art, with your head thrown back against the door, your eyes half-open and parted lips. "What do you want, doll?" he asks, and you sigh. "I don't know. Everything. Give me everything Kun, don't be an asshole."

"Everything?" Kun asks, and you nod with vigor. "Alright, your wish is my command, doll." he kisses your ankle, and he brings his lips up close to your core, and he blows gently. The cold air makes you shiver slightly, and you close your eyes, resting one hand in Kun's hair, and the other on the door for stability, because as he slides a finger in between your folds, your knees buckle.

"You are so wet doll, and all because of a few kisses? Cute." you pull his hair lightly, and he growls. "Stop talking please." you mumble, and Kun shrugs his shoulders but with your eyes closed, you can't see him. Neither do you see him approach his face and replace his finger with his tongue. "Oh." that's all you can say before he lays his tongue flat against your clit.

You are convinced that Kun will spend the next few minutes teasing you, but he does not. He licks your clit with vigor, and you can't help but roll your hips for more contact, and his free hands keep your from moving too much, which make you whimper loudly. His mouth is hot, insanely so. He pushes a single digit into you, making you mewls, not expecting him to do so. "Such a good girl." he says, moving his face away to watch you lose yourself to pleasure.

"More, more, please." you whisper, and Kun obliges. A second, then a third finger join the first, and you bite your lower lip to cover your moans that are getting loud, and embarrassing, but Kun doesn't seem to agree with you. "That's what we are not going to do. I want to hear you." he says in a firm voice, slapping your thigh. You almost lose your balance, but he stops you from falling by resting his hand on your waist. His grip is strong, and you know you'll have bruises of the shape of his fingers for days.

You already feel so close to your orgasm, you can feel it, you can taste it on your tongue. Kun keeps stimulating your clit with his thumb while pumping his fingers in and out of you, your muscle tightens around his fingers and he loves the feeling of your hot, wet walls, so much that he feels himself throb in the confined of his jeans, he can't wait to put his cock to good use inside of you.

When you feel heat spreading through your body, Kun's fingers pull back and you whine. You feel empty, and you do not like that feeling, not with how good Kun's fingers made you feel. "No, no, why, I was so close." you sob, and Kun smiles when he sees a single tear run down your cheek, it is so beautiful to see how fucked out you look with only his fingers. "You will cum. Later. On my cock, doll." fuck. "If you are nice, I'll make you cum twice, how does that sound?" you nod, that's all you can do right now.

Kun puts your leg back on the floor, and when you lower your head to look at him, he slides his fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of your juice, and you roll your eyes. "Kun." you are out of breath, and he straightens up before kissing you. He doesn't wait to get your permission before sticking his tongue into your mouth, and even though the kiss is sloppy, teeth clashing and salive gathering at the corner of your mouths, he puts his hands on your waist, to keep you upright because this simple kiss makes your legs feel like jelly, and he can feel it.

"Lie down on the bed." he orders, and you obey. You do not know how, but you get to the bed without tripping. Before lying down, you get rid of your last pieces of clothing before throwing them somewhere in the bedroom. You lie down, your head resting on Kun's pillows which smell of his perfume, and a mixture of sweat and soap, which is weirdly addicting, you think.

When you turn your head to look at him, you are disappointed to see that he is already undressed, but that's okay, you'll find another opportunity to touch his soft skin. He rummages in a drawer, and you see him walk up to the bed with a condom in hand, and without waiting, he climbs onto the bed to hover over you.

He places a quick kiss on your lips, and he begins to open the condom's packet, but you shake your head, resting your hands on his. "Let me do it." Kun nods, but he gasps when you push him to the other side of the bed to straddle his thighs. His cock is hard, the tip is red and leaking precum. You lean in, and run your tongue through the slit before swallowing the sticky liquid, all under Kun's hungry gaze.

"You drive me crazy." he groans, and you smile, perfect, you like that. You throw the condow packet on the floor, and before rolling it over his member, you lick the vein on the side from bottom to top, a groan snarling out of Kun's mouth. "Can I ride you?" you ask, while rolling the condom over his thick member. "Whatever makes you happy, doll."

You take his cock in your hand, and you nudge the tip over your entrance, you take a deep breath, and you ease the member gently. Kun's hands rest on your waist, and he gently helps you, and when finally you bottom out, he stays still. Yes, he wants to fuck you into oblivion, but he is also human, and he doesn't want to hurt you. At least not that way.

When you feel ready, you put your hands flat on Kun's chest and you roll your hips. "So tight, doll. You were made for me." Kun looks handsome from above, you think, looking at the way he bites his lower lip with every movements of your pelvis, the way his fingers tighten around your waist. But after a while, Kun starts to get impatient, and he plants his feet on the mattress to thrust harder into you.

"Oh fuck." you moan following the movement of his thrusts, but soon, you feel the burn in your thighs. You, who wanted to have a minimum of control, are already losing it as your legs fall asleep on either side of Kun's thighs. "Kun, Kun." you sob, your vision misted with tears once more. "Yes, doll, I'll take care of it." he pushes you onto the bed, and you wrap your legs around his waist when he enters you again.

He nestles his face in the crook of you neck, and he bites, hard. You close your eyes, a lewd sound coming out of your mouth and you throw your head back. Kun's thrusts are quick, strong, and deep, so much so that if you legs weren't secured around his waist, you would be pushed against the headboard. He is not holding back, and fuck you are grateful for it.

Kun sits up, and his hands grip the headboard to speed up his thrusting if that's even possible. His cock rocks against your sweet spot, and your orgasm crash over you without you even realizing it. You vision turns black, and you see stars for a moment as Kun growls when your walls tighten deliciously around his lenght. "Oh fuck, yes." he kisses you but fucked stupid like you are, you are unable to kiss back, all you can do is pant, and whimper at how sensitive you feel.

"One more?" he asks in a soft voice, which contrasts with the way he pounds into you. You are not sure you can do it, but you nod anyway, your body might hate you tomorrow, but it will be worth it. Despite everything, Kun opens his mouth. "What's your color?" he asks, and even though it takes a minute for you to figure out what he is asking, you speak out, in a broken voice. "Green, green, Kun." Great.

Kun doesn't know if he wants to cum, or if he wants to spend the rest of the night fucking you. It is so good, and at the same time, he wants to taste the sweet release he can feel creeping up slowly. He keeps thrusting, his knuckles turning white from the force with which he squeezes the headboard, and even his growls get louder. As for you, a flood of moans mixed with his name flows from your lips which he kisses, and bites hard enough that the skin breaks and a drop of blood flows before he licks it clean.

"Close, close." that's all you moan, and it's enough for Kun to understand. He nods, and one of his hands slides between your bodies to your clit, which he strokes with his thumb. You grab Kun's shoulders and dig your fingernails into the skin, and that's what seems to do, Kun cums in the condom. You feel it. You feel the hot cum against your walls even with the latex in between, and your legs start to shake with the intensity of your second orgasm.

Kun continues to thrust, slowly this time, riding his orgasm, but you are so sensitive that you shake your head. It is too much. "Stop, stop, please, I can't take it anymore." Kun obeys, and he stops his movements and he cages your face with his hands, being careful not to put his full weight on you. "It was perfect. You were perfect, doll." he whispers near your lips before kissing you for quite a while, and much more tenderly than before. And when he pulls out for air, he gets up from the bed to remove the condom and put it in the trash. You feel really empty, but ready to fall asleep.

When Kun returns to the bedroom with a damp cloth, he finds you asleep. You seem peaceful, so much that he doesn't want to wake you up and force you to go home, not that he wants you gone, so he doesn't. He puts on some sweatpants, and he lies down next to your after cleaning you briefly, and covering your naked body with a blanket, and he watches your for a moment before he too falls asleep, a smile on his face.

Chapter two: the morning after.

It is around 11am when you open your eyes. At first, you are lost. You do not recognize the sheets your are in, and you do not recognize the scent around you. The presence next to you is foreign, and it takes you two or three minutes to remembers. The bar with Taeyong. Your meeting with Kun. Kun! You spent the night with Kun, now you remember, and when you turn your head, you see a tuft of blonde hair coming out of the comforter.

Oh fuck, Taeyong!

You left the bar last night without telling him you were ditching him to go home with a complete stranger. You get out of bed slowly, ignoring the pain in your legs, and you find your pants neatly folded on what you supposed is Kun's desk, and you are definitely not the one who did that. Your top and lingerie are laid aside, and you wonder if all the one night stands are as kind and considerate as the sleeping man. But you doubt it. In your pants pocket you take out your phone, and you are surprised to see only two messages from Taeyong.

From Yong: I'm leaving with someone, don't wait for me. From Yong: Can you come get me? Pretty please?

The last message was sent less than twenty minutes ago, which means he must still be waiting for you, and probably with one hell of a hangover. You are glad you didn't drink more than two drinks last night. You put your clothes on, and before leaving the room, you find a piece of paper to write down your number, and a little note. "Call me." and you leave the room.

The problem is, you do not know where you are. You do not know which part of town he took you to, you were to busy cleaning Kun's tonsils with your tongue in the taxi to watch where they were driving you. All you know is that you are in a house, with marble stairs, and modern decor without a hint of dust around you. You go down the stairs, not daring to put your hand on the railing, and you wonder if Kun decided to illegaly enter a show house the night before.

Everything is clean, tidy. Everything is in the image of Kun, perfect. The front door is unlocked, which greatly simplifies the task of leaving like a thief. You dial Taeyong's number, and the boy answers immediately. "Where are you? I'm tired, I want to go to sleep." he says in a hoarse voice, and you look around. "I wish I knew, Yong." you walk down the street, at least until you find a street name. You are in a nice neightborhood, the kind you never go to, way too far from your comfort zone.

"What do you mean you don't know where you are?" Taeyong asks, and you roll your eyes. "I left the bar with a guy last night, and I don't know where I am!" you hear Taeyong giggle before growling, probably from his pounding headache. "Slut." you sigh, as you look around. You probably look suspicious. "You can talk, you did the same." you mumble, and you hear him say something to an unknown voice, so you take the opportunity to hang up to call a taxi, it's the only way for you to get home. Or at least to get to Taeyong, then you can figure it out together.

Chapter two and a half: Kun.

The following week, busy with work and with well, life, you stopped thinking about him, about Kun. You stopped thinking about the night you spent together, you stopped thinking about his hands, his lips, his scent, you just stopped. Work is mostly the cause, and also Taeyong who spends most of his time whinning about his ex partner, he is not recovering from his breakup, and it's tiring, really.

And when your phone rings, an unknown number appearing on your screen, you answer without a second thought. The perfect way to get you killed, Taeyong said once, but maybe one of your friends changed number and need something, you can't take the risk. But when you hear the voice, you do not recognize it. "Hello?" the silence is rather short. "Y/n, hello! How are you? Sorry I took so long to call, I was busy and didn't know if you actually wanted that." you frown, sitting on the sofa, the rerun of a show playing on the television. "I'm sorry, but who is it?"

"It's Kun?" the man says in an uncertain voice, and you remember. "Ah, Kun. Hi, I'm okay, and you, are you doing alright? Sorry for leaving last time, but my friend needed me." Kun makes a sound of aknowledgment before speaking. "Don't worry, I understand. I wanted to know if you wanted to meet?" you hesitate. You are not used of sleeping around with a man you met in a bar, so you are not sure if you really want to see him again. But also, why the hell not, you have the next week free of work, might as well make the most of it. "Yeah, why not."

"Do you remember the bar where we met? There's a café across the street, maybe we could meet up there later. Is around 3pm okay?" he asks, and you nod even though he can't see you. "Yeah that's fine with me. See you later." the man lets you know that he is excited to see you, and you hang up. You have a few more hours left, so you huddle once more in your blanket, and watch the television, wondering if going out is actually worth it.

Chapter three: How to make a doll: step one.

The meeting/date in the café is what changed your life.

You were not sure you wanted to see Kun, and yet, a month later, you are unable to part with him. There is something appealing about Kun, something highly addicting. He is kind, caring, smart and of course, he is breathtakingly beautiful with his dimples, soft eyes and honey-like voice.

The mere thought that one day he might not want you anymore is painful. You can't imagine your life without Kun, without his smile, without his kisses, without his hands that make you feel things that you've never felt before. And without his love, because Kun's love is amazing, it's like he has not limit to the love he gives, no matter what he receives in return.

When he tells you that he loves you, you feel like hearing it for the first time, every time. You have butterflies in your stomach when he looks at you, or when he talks about you like you are the eighth wonder of the world to his friends and colleagues. You are proud to be with Kun, because you know he could have had any girl, and yet, you are the one he decided to choose. The one he decided to love more than anything.

"Y/n? Come have a glass of water." you smile when you hear your name coming out of Kun's mouth, it's like hearing the most beautiful melody, the way it rolls on his tongue. And he is so attentive too, you think and you leave the living room to join him in the kitchen. He is sitting on a stool around the kitchen island, and he hands you a glass of water, which you take, smiling. "Thanks Kun." you say, and he smiles too, dimples in full display. "You are welcome, doll."

You take a sip of water, then a second, and you grimace. "What's wrong?" he asks, tilting his head. "I don't know, the water tastes weird." Kun shakes his head, and takes a sip of hiw own glass. "I don't feel it, it must be you. You stay too long without drinking, you forget the taste." when Kun says something, you take him at his word, so you shrug and finish your drink. "Sit down with me for a bit." he pats the stool next to him, and you settle down, your head immediately resting on the shoulder of your boyfriend who kisses your forehead.

You stay like that, in silence, for a few minutes before Kun opens his mouth. "How are you feeling?" he asks, and you frown. If he had not asked you the question, you certainly would not have realized the fatigue that suddenly fell on your body. Your eyelids are heavy, and you limbs feel numb, your mouth is dry, and movements around you seem to be slowing down. "I do not know." you whisper tiredly. "My poor little doll." Kun responds, without a hint of pity in his voice.

Chapter four: Bad doll?

This is not the only time the feeling of losing control of your body sets in. At first it's once a week, and now it's every morning, but you adjust pretty well to the side effects, and Kun is so nice to you when you feel bad, he takes care of you, he makes sure that you drink enough water, and that you eat enough food. He regularly returns from work at lunchtime to cook for you, and to remind you how wonderful you are, and how proud he is of you.

He gives you presents, but the one you prefer is the choker you never part with. You love the color, and the pendant reminds you that Kun is near you, even when he is not at home, and that's all you need. Time passes, and yet you do not realize it. You stopped responding to Taeyong, and even going to work. Kun said you did not have to go anymore, he may very well support the two of you with his job alone. No, you do not realize anything. You only see Kun, only hear Kun. Kun. Kun. Kun. Kun. His name echoes like a mantra in your head.

Today, going down the stairs, you are surprised to not hear the slightest noise. When Kun is at home, he enjoys playing music on his turntable. He says that even though the sound is not as crisps there, it is much better, he can appreciate the music more, but now you can't hear anything. Not even the sound of his computer keyboard where he spends most of his time when he is not at the office.

"Kun?" you ask, poking your head through the living room door, which is empty and as clean as usual, if not a little cleaner. You walk into the kitchen, and you pout when you notice that he is not there either, but a note is stuck on the fridge door.

"My doll, my beautiful doll. I'm sorry, but I had to leave for work. I know I promised to take you to the movies, but a case we are working on must be finished today, the trial having been brought forward. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to cook for you, and I'm so sorry. You can cook for yourself, but please be careful with the knives. Remember to drink at least 5 glasses of water today. I have my phone if you need anything. I love you. Kun."

You silently read Kun's words and nod. It's a shame, you were excited to go to the movies. You really haven't been out of the house since moving in with Kun. At least you think you moved here. Kun bought you enough clothes to fill a full closet, and your mind is far too cloudy to think about the clothes you already own, and the apartment you were renting back then.

You do not know if it's because Kun is not here, or because you are too lazy to cook, but you are not hungry. You come out of the kitchen, and once in the lobby of the house, you look around. You do not know what you are supposed to do. Even though Kun leaves you alone to go to work pretty much every day, he still advises you to do certain acitivites, or you usually feel far too tired to do anything.

But today, you feel good. Still a bit groggy, but much better than usual.

A name suddenly comes to your mind, for the first time in months, and you frown. Your heart does a weird thing when you think of this person. Not the same as when you think of Kun, but differently. A certain warmth spreads through your body, and you realize that you actually miss this person. Taeyong. You know you were used to spend a lot of time together, and that you even decided to save your money to find a big apartment to live in together.

He forgot about me, you think.

But you do not realize that you forgot about him, not the opposite. But you are too lost in your own head to realize it. You walk up the stairs, being careful not to put your fingers on the white wall or the railing, and push the door to the room you share with Kun. The decor has changed since the first time you came here. Several pictures of you, and you and Kun together are on the walls, and your favorite color can be found in small touches on the satin sheets, on the curtains, and a few trinkets here and there.

You find your phone in the bedside table drawer, and when you try to turn it on, nothing happens. After so long, the battery must be dead. Finding a charger is not difficult, you just have to walk around the bed to Kun's place. You take it, and you return to the living room. For some reason, you do not like being in the room on your own, you feel like you are being watched, it makes you uncomfortable.

Once in the living room, you plug in the phone, and while waiting for it to turn on, you turn on the television. A serie is playing, and even though you do not understand it, you watch, your head resting on a pillow, and soon, you find yourself wrapped in your favorite blanket, ready to fall asleep. So much for feeling full of energy.

When you open your eyes, you are hardly surprised to see the living room bathed in darkness. It often happens to you, to close your eyes before realizing that night has already fallen. It takes a moment before your eyes get used to the darkness that is only broken by a lit bedsite lamp next to Kun. Kun who is seated on an armchair, his arms crossed against his toned chest. You sit up, smiling. "You are back."

Normally, Kun would smile. He would get up to give you a long, tender hug and ask you how your day was. But today, he doesn't. He looks tired, stressed and disappointed. It is indeed an emotion you have never seen on his beautiful face, disappointment. "What's wrong?" you ask as you sit on the couch, legs crossed, your blanket falling from your shoulders, revealing the same pajamas you wore last night.

You look down, and notice that your phone is in Kun's hand, and tild your head. "Why?" he asks, pointing to the phone. "Why what?" He gets up, and he sits down next to you. You are not afraid, you know Kun will never hurt you, but you also do not know what to expect. You have never seen him angry except at one of his colleagues on the phone, and each time he makes sure to leave the room so that you do not see, or hear anything.

"Am I not enough?" he asks in a voice so weak that you wonder if you heard correctly. "Why do you ask me this?" he sighs and puts the phone down on the coffee table, it's on this time, and you can see the many notifications when the screen lights up. That can't be good, you think, but you do not even think about reaching for the phone, since Kun turns your head to face him by gripping your chin between two fingers.

You frown, your mouth opening slightly at his sudden move. "You haven't touched your phone since you've been here, and today you decided to do it, because you knew I wasn't coming back, why?" he asks in a firm voice, and you avoid his gaze, which doesn't seem to please him. "Good dolls look at me when I talk to them." he says with clenched teeth, and you shake your head. "I- I'm not a doll."

Kun scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Of course not. You are not, you are right. You don't deserve to be one of my dolls." this sudden realization makes you open your eyes wide, shaking your head. "What? Of course I deserve it!" when he shakes his head, your eyes fill with tears and he refrains from stroking your cheeks to calm you down. "No. A doll doesn't look to see someone else when I'm not around." it's crazy how fast a few words made you change your mind about being a doll.

You manage to extricate yourself from his grip, and you climb onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Kun is surprised at your sudden behavior, and even though he knows he cannot give in, stay firm, he does nothing to stop it. But he doesn't touch you either, even though his hands only want one thing: to rest on your waist. "You are wrong, Kun, I didn't want to see anyone. I just wanted to watch, and I didn't even do it, I fell asleep before it turned on." you speak in a quick manner. "Hey, breathe." he says, and you take a deep breath.

Kun looks at his watch, and he makes a noise of surprise or aknowlegdment, you don't really know. "Did you drink any water today?" he asks, and you are surprised at the sudden change of tone in Kun's voice. "No, I was sleeping." now, he understands. "That's why you decided to act like this! You silly goose, you know you need to drink." you pout when Kun puts you down on the couch, because you already miss Kun's warm touch and scent. "I'll be right back."

A minute or two later, Kun returns with a glass of water in his hand, and he hands it to you. "Drink it all." you nod and take the glass to drink the content. Over time, you started to ignore the weird aftertaste that burns your throat a bit when Kun give you something to drink. He settles down next to you again to pull you onto his lap without waiting, except this time, he wraps his arms around your waist to press your chest against his. "You can't disobey me anymore, okay?" you nod.

"Yes, I will not do it again, I promise." he puts his hand on the back of your head, and he pulls you in for a languid kiss. But before you can initiate anything, he breaks the kiss. "I'm so sorry, I just want to be a good doll." you whisper close to his ear, and he smiles weakly. "I know that my love, and you are, it's just that sometimes you get distracted. But that won't happen again, I'll make sure of it myself."

Chapter five: Taeyong.

For the following weeks, Kun makes sure not to leave you alone for too long. And the more time passes, the less able you feel to regain full control over your body. Kun does everything for you, he doesn't let you lift a finger, if only to clear your plate. If your thought were yours, you would wonder when he plans on spoon feed you himself, but they haven't belonged to you for a long time.

Sometimes you have moments of lucidity. Your eyes clear, and your memories come back, the times you spent with Taeyong, the life you had before meeting Kun, and during those brief moments, you wonder if you'll ever get back to those times you genuinely took for granted. You began to write in a notebook what you remember in these moments, and the time when it happens. And every time, it is before breakfast, when you get out of bed.

Like all plans, Kun's isn't foolproof, luckily you manage to keep it to yourself. You refuse to think about what would happen if he ever found out that sometimes you become yourself, Y/n, and not Kun's doll. Even in these times, you are not afraid of Kun, because you know he'll never hurt you, at least not physically, he is way too sweet, and too in love to do it. Because yes, despite the mental ordeal he makes you live on a daily basis, he loves you, you know it.

Maybe you should stop forcing yourself to remember your old life, and come to terms with what you have become. Maybe you'll get used to it, and start to appreciate what is offered to you, you think, looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror, the only place you can have a little bit of privacy. You rub cold water on your face, because you know that in a few minutes, when Kun gives you your drink, you will not be yourself. And when you turn to take the towel, you hear a little noise coming from the bedroom.

You frown, it is not Kun, you can hear the noises coming from the kitchen. So you come out of the bathroom, and you follow the noise that continues, to Kun's bedsite table which you open, and what a surprise when you find your phone. It's on, and Taeyon's photo appears on the screen. You take it, and with a trembling hand, you answer.

"Hello?" you ask, and the noise you hear coming from Taeyong is barely describable. It's a mix of surprise and relief. "Oh my god, Y/n! Do you have any idea how scared I've been for months?" you bite your lower lip. "I'm sorry." you answer, and he growls from the other side. You can't imagine what he felt. "Where are you? Are you okay? Are you safe?"

When you are about to answer, you hear footsteps coming towards the bedroom door. "I have to go." and you hang up before shoving the phone in the drawer before closing it. And when the door opens, you turn to him, smiling. "Is everything okay?" Kun asks, and you walk up to him, nodding your head. "Perfectly fine, I was ready to come down." you put your hands on his chest, and you kiss Kun softly.

Kun answers to the kiss, one of his hands fiddling with the pendant of your necklace. He doesn't express it very often, but he is extremely proud to see you wearing it every day. It shows that you belong to him, even if you do not need it, you prove it to him every day. "Come eat." he says against your lips, and you take his hand to exit the room.

Once in the kitchen, you drink the glass of juice offered to you, and the effects come much faster now. And when you are finally in Kun doll's mindset, you feel stupid for answering Taeyong, so much so that you feel ready to confess everything to him, and ask him to throw the phone away for you to no longer be tempted, but you do not. "I love you Kun." you say, which surprises the man who smiles with a sweetness that warms your heart. "I love you too, doll, more than anything in the world."

Chapter six: Yes, bad doll.

Kun has to go to work.

To do that, he made sure to give you a double dose last night, to make sure he wouldn't have to deal with another scene like last time. He trusts you, but you can never be too careful, he thinks, looking at you. You are sleeping peacefully, and you are so beautiful, he wonders what he has done to have a person like you in his life. You are the most beautiful doll, his best creation. However, when he met you, it was not a won situation. But you proved to him that you were capable of changing, and he would give his life for you.

He places a kiss on your forehead, and he pulls back when you stire in your sleep. For a second, he thinks he woke you up, but no, you turn, your breathing still deep. His little angel. He gets out of the room, takes his satchel, and leaves the house.

When you open your eyes, it is not because of the sun coming through the curtains, but because of the knocking on the door. You whine, and wonder when the noises will stop, but they don't. Kun must not have heard it, or he is not home. So reluctantly, you get out of bed. You have to hold on to the wall to walk, to avoid tripping. You feel feverish, and so so tired.

When, at least, you arrive at the bottom of the stairs, you approach the door. Everything is silent, and you regret having moved, but as your turn on your heels, the knocking on the door resumes. You open it, and you frown when your eyes fall on a man. He is not very tall, his hair is pink and washed out. He looks like he has not slept in weeks, and when his eyes fall on you, you wonder if he is going to cry.

"Y/n!" he throws himself on you to hug you to his chest. You know if Kun witnessed the scene, you would be in trouble, and yet, you stay in the man's arms. The warmth that he gives off, his perfume, his simple way of being are not unknown to you. "Taeyong." you breath, and the boy pulls back, his hands still resting on your shoulders. "I hope you have some explanations for me, young lady. I've been looking for you for months!"

"How did you find me?" you ask, cocking your head. He is truly struggling to recognize you. Your eyes are glassy, and he can no longer see the happiness and mischief he used to read in your eyes back in the days. "Thanks to your phone. I just wanted to make sure you were safe." you nod, hugging your body with your arms. "Of course I'm safe. Kun takes good care of me, and he loves me very much. I love him too."

Taeyong frowns, he feels liks he is listening to a robot, or a pre-recorded message. It is no longer his best friend that he has in front of him, but someone else, and he does not know how to explain what exactly has changed so much, or what could have happened. He even wonder if you weren't brainwashed, joined a cult, or had a frontal lobotomy. He knows it's stupid, but he is stupid, and those are the only thought that come to him. He is far from reality.

"Can I come in?" Taeyong asks, trying to see the inside of the house over your shoulder, and you bite your lip. You are not sure Kun would enjoy seeing a stranger in his own home, but he is not here right now, and a good doll must also be a kind and welcoming host, so you shrug. "Yes, of course." you push yourself out of the door to let Taeyong in, he wolf-whistles when he sees the inside, and how clean and shiny everything is. "Wow.

You head for the kitchen. "You can sit if you want. Do you want something to drink?" you ask, but he shakes his head. "No thanks." he sits down on a stool around the kitchen island, and you sit across from him, your hands resting on the cold surface of the counter. "So? Tell me everything that happened." yes, you suspected he would ask you the question. "I met Kun in the bar where we were that night. And I don't know, things happened naturally after we saw each other again. I think moving here was the next logical step, it just happened."

"But that doesn't explain why you stopped responding to my messages, and giving signs of life." Taeyong's voice is painful, even for you. You sigh, playing with a thread on your pyjama sleeve. "I don't know, Taeyong." it's the truth, you do not even know why you stopped caring about your phone, you who spent most of your time on it. "But I'm sorry." are you really? Not really.

You spend the next two hours talking. Well, Taeyong talks about things that have happened over the past few months, and you listen. You try to smile, nod at the right time, and be happy to be with him again, but you can't stop thinking about Kun, and what he is going to think when he finds out he's been here today. Not that he is preventing you from having contact with the outside world, but seeing how he reacted when you wanted to use your phone, you suspect that he is not going to be very happy.

"...and Ten started screaming." Taeyong says, and you open your mouth to laugh, but instead, your mouth opens in a silent cry as Taeyong's face makes contact with the kitchen island in a violent manner. So violent that he loses consciousness almost immediately. Behind him, you see Kun, and what you read in his eyes is nothing but pure rage. Your breathing is plowed, and you get up from your chair.

"Why would you do that?" you ask in a panicked voice, and he shakes his head, clicking his tongue. "You should thank me." he says as he approaches Taeyong. He grabs his hair to lift his head, and you gag when you see the amount of blood on his face. "But he didn't do anything!" you defend, and he laughs coldly, so much so that an unpleasant shiver runs down your spine.

He lets Taeyong's head fall back, and he looks at you. It's not longer disappointment he is showing, but something more intense. He is scary, and yet he smiles at you. "You know, I really thought you were different. When I met you, I finally thought I had found it, the perfect doll. I loved you so much, and I would have given you everything, even my life, and yet you decided to betray me." you shake your head as you join Kun.

"I didn't betray you Kun. He came on his own, I didn't contact him. I didn't tell him anything, we didn't do anything either." you say, cupping Kun's face, but he takes a step back to avoid the contact almost immediately, and ouch, that hurts. "I love you Kun, I love you so much." you continue in a whisper, and he shakes his head.

"If you really loved me, you wouldn't have let him in. You would have told him to go, and you would have moved on with your day. But no, you decided to be a little slut." A little slut? You would never dare to do such thing. You love Kun, and only Kun. No matter what he puts you through every day trying to make you the perfect doll, you have never loved anyone as much as you love Kun.

"I'm not a slut, Kun. I'm your little doll." you say in a low voice, not daring to look Kun in the eyes anymore. You feel him approaching you, and you refrain from taking a step back. "Are you sure of that? Are you my perfect doll?" he asks, and you nod. "And what would my perfect doll do for me?" you lift your head, and run the tip of your tongue over your dry lips. "Anything Kun. I would do anything for you."

"Very well." that's all he says before heading to the locked cabinet. The one in which he takes the small bottle of transparent liquid every morning. The bottle is full, and you wonder how get manages to get so many. You follow his every move with your eyes, and you frown when you see him emptying the entire bottle into a glass. And he pours a small amount of fruit juice into the glass before mixing everything.

He hands you the glass, and he says. "Drink."

You shake your head with vigor, you do not intend to drink the content of this glass. Only god knows what could happen to you. "You said you would do anything for me, and I want you to drink." he walks up to you, and every time he takes a step forward, you take a step back. At least until your back makes contact with the kitchen wall. You are stuck, you know it, Kun is too fast, if you try to escape, he will catch up with you in an instant.

"You said you were a perfect little doll. And you know very well that dolls listen and obey when I ask them something." his voice is much softer now, and you get lost in his big dark eyes. So much love are in his eyes, so he might not be able to hurt you, right? He is just playing with you to see your reaction, to see what you are ready to do for him, right? Taeyong growls behind Kun, but he doesn't pay him the slightest attention. "So?"

"I'm going to drink, because I love you Kun, and I want you to know that I am your perfect doll. Your best creation." you say in a whisper as you take the glass, and Kun looks satisfied. You pursue your lips, and it takes a minute for you to muster the courage to open your mouth and drink the content of the glass. The taste is horrible, and the burning sensation in your throat makes you cough hardly. You drop the glass which shatters to the ground. Kun hasn't moved, unlike you, he is too busy looking at you. He knows what is going to happen, and for many reasons, and he doesn't want to miss a thing.

"You know, Y/n, I've had a lot of dolls before you. They were different from each other, and each time I thought I had found the right one, but each time, I was wrong. They always found a way to lie to me, and betray my trust. But when I saw you, when I saw the effort you were willing to make to please me, I really believed you would be the last." he cannot hide his disappointment, and his disgust.

"I loved all of my dolls, trust me, but you... I never felt something so strong for any of them. You were the exception. The one and only." you are having a hard time keeping your eyes open, and slowly, you slide along the wall. Not only do your legs seem to weight a ton, you feel like your heart is doing things it shouldn't be doing. It beats too fast, and too slowly at the same time.

You have chills, and a cold sweat covers your forehead, and rolls down your spine. Soon, your lungs are racing, and it becomes more and more difficult for you to breathe. Kun crouches down in front of you, his fingers sliding down your wet cheeks from the tears you didn't know were rolling. "You are lucky, because your life will end in a much more peaceful way than theirs."

"I could have let them go. I could have helped them get rid of the drugs in their bodies, and let them go back to a normal life, but I couldn't afford to risk being reported to the police, or to see them with someone else, I hope you understand." he turns to looks at Taeyong who gradually regains consciousness. "And unfortunately, your little friend won't have an ending as sweet as yours. It'll teach him to not stick his nose where it does not belong."

Kun talks, but it's just gibberish to you, you can't concentrate. You can't. All you can do is put your hand down to your chest, it's so painful, everything burns. You are hot, and cold. A broken sob escapes your lips, and Kun places a kiss on your lips. "I will never love any of my next dolls as much as I loved you, I promise." he whispers against your lips. "I don't think I can love anyone after you. You were all I ever dreamed of."

You vision gradually fades. You see nothing, except the contours of Kun's body. You do not feel anything either. You do not know how long you've been on the ground, but you are not in pain anymore. You are at peace, you think, as you take your last breath.

A single tear rolls down Kun's cheek when he sees you take your last breath. His heart breaks, but he gets up. Kun could have forgiven you, of course, he dreams of nothing other than spending the rest of his life with you, but he hates being betrayed. No matter how intense his love for you was over the past few months, he refuses to be used. Trust is what matters most to him, and he knows the next few months will be horrible, it will take time for him to recover from your death, your "accidental" overdose, but he will. And he'll try again.

One more name to add to his list of failure.

But first, he has to take care of Taeyong. He can't have a witness in his house, or maybe he can use him. He is a handsome boy, he could be useful in his search for the perfect doll.

#nct imagines #wayv imagines #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #kun imagines #kun scenarios #nct smut #wayv smut #nct angst #wayv angst

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blu-joons · 4 years

Text

When You Feel Insecure ~ Min Yoongi

The sight of Yoongi cooking was the first thing you saw as you walked into the apartment. Light music played in the background as he moved around in his own little world. You crept up beside him, placing your bag on the top of the table, finally making him jump.

“What’s all this?” You questioned, glancing at the many side dishes that Yoongi had set out for your dinner for the evening. “I’m supposed to be watching what I eat and then you go and cook me all of this,” you reminded him.

His shoulders shrugged, moving a few of the dishes across to the table where you sat yourself. It smelt delicious, but even by your standards, there was a lot. Yoongi loved to cook for you, even despite your protests, often surprising you with a meal to look forward to at the end of your day.

“You can forget about doing any sort of diet,” he warned you, “there’s no way I’m going to let you go on a diet when there’s no reason for you to do it Y/N.”

“I need to be a bit careful Yoongi, even you can’t pretend that I don’t.”

His head shook as he turned back to the oven, checking on the noodles that were boiling. Your head rested into your hand as you watched him walk around, ignoring every murmur and disgruntled groan that came from you. After a few minutes, the meal was finally placed on the table for you both to enjoy.

Whilst Yoongi quickly piled up his side dishes with plenty of food, you were a little more reluctant, picking at the foods that you knew were the most nutritious and healthy.

“Maybe you could use a bit of this for lunch tomorrow,” you suggested, looking over at how much food there was out. “We can’t eat all of this for dinner.”

His head shook immediately, staring across at you. “This is as much food as we usually eat, you’ve decided that you don’t want to eat it this time around.”

“I’m eating,” you protested, lifting a mouthful of chicken to your mouth. You tried to force a smile to your face, but Yoongi’s head continued to shake across at you. “I don’t know what you want me to do Yoongi, I need to stop eating so comfortably before it’s too late.”

He couldn’t believe the things he was hearing come from you, watching on as you dropped your chopsticks, finally allowing your frustrations to grow.

Yoongi could see the internal struggle you were going through, the constant conflict you had with yourself. In his eyes, you were perfect just the way you were, but in your eyes, he knew that you saw a very different person from the one that he saw.

“Has anyone said anything to you about your weight or made you feel this way?” He asked you, pushing his own plate aside so that he could lean in towards you.

“No one has said anything to me, this is just what I think,” you informed him, resting your hand over your tummy. “It’s not what it used to be; I need to lose a big of weight.”

He stood up from the table so that he could peer down and look at your tummy. “I don’t see anything that’s changed from the person you were months or even years ago.”

Your head slowly turned up to look at him, biting down harshly on your bottom lip for a few moments, regaining your composure. “I’m not happy with who I am Yoongi, others might not think that way, but that’s how I feel. I can’t change that.”

He wanted to scream at how crazy you sounded to him, but he knew it wouldn’t solve anything. He loved cooking for you and caring for you, he loved seeing that you were happy and healthy under his protection.

“You should be happy with who you are Y/N, your beautiful. What’s more important is the incredible person that you are, your personality makes you so loved.”

“You really think that?”

“I do,” he smiled, “if you want to lose weight, I will always support you, but I don’t think you need to, and I don’t think you should let something so small bother you when there’s so many other amazing things about you.”

He stood up from the table and walked around to you, standing him up beside you. “I want to be enough for you and everyone else, but right now I don’t feel like I am.”

“Don’t you think I should be the one who decides what is enough for me?” He asked.

Before you could answer, he pulled you into his side and pressed a gently kiss to the top of your head. For years you’d been everything Yoongi had wanted, you’d been enough in his eyes since day one, and that was something that had never changed.

Slowly, your head nodded. “I know you’ll always tell me I’m enough for you, but sometimes I wonder how true that statement actually is.”

“It’s true, every second of every day,” he assured you, “there has never, ever, been a moment in our relationship when you’ve not been enough.”

“Maybe I have just been a little bit hard on myself recently.”

Yoongi sat you back down in your chair, pulling his chair around so that it sat aligned with yours. “You’re allowed to have low moments, but when you do, remember all the things that everyone else adores about you. It will make you feel so much better.”

Your hand reached out to begin to add a bit more food to your plates. Yoongi couldn’t hide his smile as you began to tuck in a little more, seeing how much happier you were all that he needed, but seeing his food go down well too was definitely a bonus.

“I don’t think they’ll be any of this left for lunch tomorrow after all,” he teased, reaching across for his own plate. “I’m glad to see you’re filling yourself up a bit now though.”

“I couldn’t turn your food down forever,” you smiled, grabbing yet another mouthful. “If there’s one good thing about dating you, it’s definitely the food.”

His head shook gently, poking against your shoulder. Your smile widened in his direction, letting go of several hums in response to the delicious flavours you enjoyed. Yoongi sat back smugly, happy to take all the compliments you had for the meal he prepared.

“I’m glad you know exactly where my talents lie,” he told you, “but I’ll have you know, there are plenty more positives to dating me then just my food.”

“But none of them are as good as the food,” you reminded him, prodding the tip of his nose with the end of your chopsticks.

His hand came up to wipe away at the mark that you’d left against him. “I’m just glad I’m dating someone who appreciates all the cooking that I do.”

“Trust me, your cooking is something that will never go unappreciated.”

“That’s what I like to hear!”

---

Masterlist

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ally22042000 · 4 years

Text

Linked by fate

Shifting

Werewolf AU

Fluff, Angst

OT7 x Reader

Pack Alpha: Namjoon Alpha: Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook Beta: Seokjin, Yoongi, Taehyung Omega: Y/N

Wordcount: 1.7K

Commenting and rebloging is always appreciated.

A/N: Hey, guys. I hope you are going to like this chapter. I was thinking about creating little mood boards, so you have an overview of their fur colour, etcetera. Let me know what you think about that. -Ally

It was in elementary when your animal instincts slowly started to make their appearances. While the position a wolf had was clear from birth, their natural behaviours didn’t start to show until later into their upbringings. Unhurriedly the process begins during childhood and steadily takes over more of their senses. The stronger instincts like the alpha’s power to force others to follow any of their command or heats and ruts, didn’t begin until the late teenage years. To ensure the safety of everyone and the capability for beta and omega parents to raise alpha children.

Another feature that slowly starts is the ability to turn into your wolf form. Namjoon was the first of our pack to shift. The calling to protect his younger to strong. It took over his body and made him show his true power as the pack alpha he was born to be. His parents were immensely proud, thankful that he wasn’t a late shifter. Wolfs that didn’t turn before their fourteenth birthday were often frowned upon and seen as a lacking member of the clan.

Next in line was Hobi. He had always had a strong connection to his basic instincts. Having been trained to fight from a young age and coming from a strong lineage of worriers, nobody was surprise that he shifted shortly after he turned nine. Since than he often favoured to walk around in is furred form. It felt more like himself, is what he said whenever someone asked.

Jungkook shift was a surprise to everyone. It was rare for someone, who didn’t come from a strong blood line to turn before their tenth birthday but like always the golden boy defeated any standards and turned on his eight birthday. All of you had gathered in his small living room. With his parents both being omegas they weren’t able to afford much. Most jobs, especially the ones who help authority, where given to alphas or betas. Omegas were regarded as to much of a push over to stand their ground when needed. That lead to them having a smaller income than the other to wolf species. But disregarding the financial consequences and the fact they wouldn’t be able to have a child with each other, they stayed together; their love too strong to break. Considering the impossibility of them having a child together, Jungkook knew from a young age, that he was adopted. A fact that never bothered him. Something his parents were eternally grateful for.

His mother brought in the cake and set it down in front of the little boy. Everyone around him was singing, while he closed his eyes and made a wish. Desiring that this moment would never fade, him surrounded by the people he cared deeply for. Everyone healthy and a smile painting their lips while they celebrated his birthday. He filled his lungs with air and looked at the eight little flames in front of him. But instead of the sound of rushing air and cheering, the ripping of cloth was heard, and a little black wolf was sat on the stool in lieu.

The room went silent everyone staring at the puppy with the big eyes. Slowly similes formed on their faces, happy that a new wolf found its fur. Cheers and clapping filled the room. Congratulations came flying Jungkook’s way, little hands stretching and shoving to touch his fur. His father returning with a camera and capturing the scene. His mother wiping away a stray tear of happiness. Glad she was able to witness that new chapter in her son’s live. Meanwhile Jin watched the situation from his chair unmoving and having eyes for one thing and one thing only: “Yeah, that’s really great but can we eat cake now.”

Jin and Tae funnily shifted at the same time. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and all of you with the exception of Namjoon and Hoseok, who were attending a pack meeting in request of their parents, were playing in Yoongi’s backyard. Both his parents were gone one a hunting trip for a few days, like they often were, leaving Yoongi and his brother on their own. The beta was in his wolf form, having turned a few weeks ago while turning on the shower and the water having been too cold. His brown fur with a read hint feeling silky as you braided it. When you stared, he let out a little huff, showing annoyance at your antics, but being too lazy to move he let you do your thing. You smirked to yourself, knowing that he actually enjoyed the feeling of your finger running through his fur.

Jimin and Jungkook were training on one side of the huge yard. Both of them started taking a liking to taekwondo. Meanwhile the other two troublemakers were playing a game of badminton on the other side of the field. A loud yell was heard, when Jin lost another point to the younger, the wind’s fault of course.

After two more failed attempts the oldest threw down his racked in anger and started chasing the dark haired. Laughter filled the air as Tae took off. The feel of the chase awoke something primal in Jin and before he knew it a new sensation washed over his skin and he suddenly chased Tae on four legs instead of the usual two. The youngers instincts were triggered by the older wolf chasing him and his own first shift took place. Tae had a soft looking, sand coloured fur, while Jin was another brown one but with more of an ashy touch.

The rest of the afternoon the both of them explored their new ability alongside Jungkook. Jimin had taken residency behind you, back hugging you while watching the others. Although you couldn’t see his face, you felt the wave of sadness that washed over him. The both of you were the only ones who hadn’t turned yet. You were only twelve so you still had enough time before it would be considered abnormal, but the pressure lingered.

Jimin didn’t turn until he was seventeen, a fact which cost him a lot of fights with his parents and multiple appointments with his doctor. Countless nights spent in your bed, crying into your pillow, screaming because of the pain this was causing him. With him being the alpha, he was expected to be this strong wolf that no one stood a chance against, but here he was not able to do the simplest thing known to your beings.

When he did turn his wolf was coated in a beautiful fur of the purest white you had ever laid eyes upon. His animal form as elegant as his human. His parents were proud and from there perspective Jimin’s flaw had faded just like their problems, but in reality, their relationship never went back to the way it was. He wasn’t the kid that ran home from school because he missed his mother anymore. Or the one that would tremble on his feet at his first dance performance, until he saw his fathers encouraging smile, which could wash away any problem, and let him be the beautiful swan he was.

You had turned a day after Jimin, had cried yourself to sleep the night before at the fact that you were the only one of your group that hadn’t turned yet. You were happy for Jimin when he called you and told you about the great news; genuinely. But the fear and self-hatred crawled up on you at night. Reminding you of your duty, as an omega and as a wolf, to your pack and your incapability of living up to it.

The following day you felt nauseous and empty, but still your parents forced you to attend school. As a senior it was important to be present as often as possible and to learn until your brain smoked to insure you could attend the collage of your choosing. You made it to two lessons, before the sick feeling in your stomach won the upper hand and you ran to the bathroom. Having arrived at the stall and preparing yourself to let out your small breakfast, a warmth like never before overcame you. You let out a pained breath as you felt your body expand and your cloth rip. And then you stood there, grey fur covering your body as you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Your ears flexed at every sound that could be heard from outside. The footsteps of a person running somewhere; probably late for class. The uncomfortable squeaking of a chalk on a black board. Then a waft of a delicious smell slipped through the opening beneath the door. The cafeteria ladies had started cooking lunch. Hamburgers and fries how it seemed. And then you could smell a familiar scent, one that you would be able to pick up anywhere. Clumsily you were able to open the door with your bowl sized paws. You hurried down the hallway, slipping a few times on the freshly cleaned tiles.

You almost ran Namjoon over when you saw him. Standing before his locker, he was grabbing a history book for his next lesson, when you bumped into him. At first, he was simply shocked, pondering why a stranger would run into him like that. But then he picked up on your sent slowly, his olfactory sense not having fully developed yet, it took him awhile to realise who was standing in front of him.

A lazy grin covered his face as realisation hit him. Slowly he got down on his knees and warped his arms around your neck: “Hello my pretty omega, welcome to your true form.”

The others were ecstatic when they heard the good news. Happy that all of their group members had been blessed with the ability to shift, knowing of the horrific outcome the situation could have had, had you not turned before your eighteenth birthday. When every wolf was fully developed, and alphas gained the capability of forming their pack and gifting their mark.

Your pack was safe, healthy, and happy, and that was all that concerned you for now.

#bts #bts x reader #linked by fate #OT7 BTS #ot7 x reader #werewolf #au #bts fluff #bts angst

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a-froger-epic · 3 years

Note

tw: mention of eating disorders

hey i read something about freddie having an eating disrorder, and I hate asking this but could you please explain if you know anything about it. my poor baby :(

Hey anon!

I’m sorry it took me a while to reply. This is a sensitive topic for many, so I wanted to take my time and give you the nuanced reply it deserves.

I’ve talked about this a little before, but I might as well take the opportunity now to speak about it at length. This is only my personal opinion based on everything I’ve read about Freddie and many different takes I’ve seen others put forward.

So, did Freddie have an eating disorder?

The shortest answer to that, as far as I’m concerned, is... maybe?

Before I carry on, I’d like to say that I think everyone is free to speculate about this and make up their own mind, as well as creatively explore this in their writing, and I don’t consider my opinion to be any more correct than anyone else’s.

Why do people think Freddie might have had an ED?

There are a few things about Freddie and food which could be interpreted as ED behaviours. First off, here is what Phoebe has to say about Freddie and his eating habits:

His taste in food changed over the years I was with Freddie. When I started the group of us would make monthly visits to the restaurant Shezan, an Indian eatery, in Knightsbridge. Freddie never had a menu as they always provided his favourite selection of foods without asking. As his illness progressed, his taste buds could not take the assault of spicy foods and he tended to more bland foods. He also turned his eating habits around. He used to have a lighter meal at lunch and then have a big meal in the evening, usually at a restaurant with a big group of friends. Towards the end he would eat more at lunch and a smaller meal in the evenings.

Nothing much out of the ordinary here, as far as I can see. Freddie definitely had favourite foods he enjoyed, but then, a common misconception is that people with EDs don’t like/enjoy food, and that isn’t true. Phoebe also says this:

As I have said before, Freddie was a very light eater. Some of us live to eat, but Freddie was one of those people who ate to live. He was the master of moving food around the plate to give the appearance of having eaten a good amount. He did enjoy good food, but really didn’t need to consume very much. He loved entertaining guests at meals in the dining room at Garden Lodge and was able to disguise his non-eating by making sure everyone else was ok during the meal. Don’t get me wrong, Freddie always ate enough to keep him going, but I can’t remember one time when he leant back in the chair saying ‘I’m stuffed!’

Now here we have a lot of things to unpack. There are three things in here - moving food around the plate to give the appearance of having eaten more, disguising his non-eating and never eating enough to be full - which are definitely known ED behaviours.

However, people who just do not care about food all that much and are light eaters do also exist. In fact, I’m one of them myself. I did struggle with Disordered Eating in my teens and my early 20s, but I have a healthy relationship with food now and I never like to eat until I’m stuffed because it’s not a nice feeling, physically, to overeat. I’m also someone who easily and genuinely forgets to eat when I’m in a creative haze. Just as an example.

Also, seeing as Freddie most likely was made to finish meals all throughout his boarding school times, like many children in lunch halls, which is usually not a great experience for children who are picky or light eaters, the “moving food around the plate to make it seem he’s eaten” could well be an old habit stemming from there.

Either way, Phoebe doesn’t seem too concerned about Freddie’s eating, and even though people with EDs are very good at hiding them, Phoebe did know him for a long time and very, very well. Phoebe could also be withholding information that he considers too private. All of that is possible, all of that is speculation.

There are other things which point to the fact that Freddie was definitely preoccupied with his weight/appearance. In this interview in 1974, he says:

“Oh really,” he exclaims in disgust, “this paper has no flair - I mean to print this picture three times in succession … and just look at my arms!” He was horrified, “look at how fat they appear, now my arms aren’t like that at all - what do you think?” He rolls up his sleeves for me to inspect and I’d like to state here and now that the poor dear’s arms are quite, quite slender!

The photo Freddie is most likely talking about, is this one:

It’s not a very fortunate angle, admittedly. So I think it’s possible to see where he was coming from, but even so, he was worried about his arms looking fat at a time when he looked like this:

Yes, it is important to keep in mind that people were generally thinner in the 70s than we are used to now. (Brian, for example, was also incredibly thin.) But in this picture it really is evident that Freddie was very, very thin at this point.

Other things which are often brought into the discussion around Freddie’s eating habits is the account of him throwing a fit when Brian ate one of his biscuits once, choosing to walk after a meal at a restaurant while his driver drove alongside him and his friends, eating cereal on the floor in his dressing room, this picture where he clearly prefers salad to chicken wings (unlike Roger “What Even Are Vegetables” Taylor):

All of the above, to me, are things which can be heavily read into but ultimately don’t prove very much.

And there is this bit from Mercury & Me:

The Sun did later print a photograph of Freddie taken while he was performing at the festival, which he didn't appreciate. It showed off "Flabulous Freddie" with a slight paunch, wickedly describing it as his "midriff bulge". When he saw the picture he looked at me and shook his head in despair. 'It's typical,' he said. 'If I'm slim the papers say I'm too thin and if I put on a little bit of a belly they say I'm too fat. It's a no-win situation.'

Now, that doesn’t give off the impression to me that Freddie was particularly distraught about that article, at that point in his life. But it certainly appears to have bothered him to some degree.

So what’s the conclusion?

To me, personally, it seems quite likely that Freddie did suffer from Disordered Eating in the early to mid 70s. That’s really not uncommon, sadly, although it usually afflicts young women more than young men. But he was in the spotlight and had to care about his appearance. He was clearly very preoccupied with it, not only when it came to his body, but his looks in general - there is plenty of evidence regarding that. He was very selective about which photographs of himself he did and didn’t like. However, I find it impossible to say just how much this preoccupation affected him exactly. 1974 especially was also a very taxing year for Queen. Their management was shit, they struggled with money, they almost lost Brian, their touring schedules were brutal, the press was bashing them, Freddie was struggling with his sexual identity. There were a lot of immense stress factors, and he could have very well been someone who responded to stress by not eating - just like others respond to stress by eating too much. And Disordered Eating is not classed as an eating disorder. It is, if you will, the beginning of one.

Or, he absolutely could have developed or already had an actual ED which he was hiding fairly well, and it could have affected him a lot, but nobody would have ever known because he would have been unlikely to ever speak to anybody about it.

Both is possible. I simply don’t think that there is enough information to do more than speculate on the matter, beyond: He had a preoccupation with his looks and minded what and how much he ate throughout his life.

However, in the second half of the 70s as well as the 80s, he was still thin but had started working out and looked more “athletic” thin rather than gaunt. I think it’s entirely possible that whatever issues Freddie had with food were not a constant thing but something that may have been worse and better at times, depending on his overall mental well-being and his levels of confidence.

Or, it could have been something that he always struggled with.

Again, as far as I am concerned, both is possible and I don’t feel I can say for certain. And so, my take leans towards Disordered Eating when younger and less preoccupation with it later on. That’s the impression I get.

But I wrote all this out so that others can make up their own minds, and rather than share my exact opinion, I encourage you to do just that.

#Freddie Mercury #Tw eating disorders #meta #ask response

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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years

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So I’m a dark skin girl and I always wonder is Harry gets involved with women that are not white skinny tall blonde model like all his exes. Can u write something about that? Maybe they are friends but reader is into him but keeps us to herself cause she is sure he only date the same type of girls.

Feelings

A/N: I really needed and wanted to write this one. I feel like us chocolate girlies can be a bit left out some times, and it sucks. So I want to do/write more things that are specifically tailored to us black girls because we need to see and read more of it. Also, I don’t want this to be a thing where it’s putting anyone down or being melodramatic towards things that are at the end of the day out of our control. But this is just the way that some people (including myself at times) feel, and everyone should be aware of this. I did made sure that there is something in here that everyone can relate to in some way. So I hope you guys enjoy🙃

4.5k Words

You rarely opened up. Most of your relationships were surface level, and you never fully expressed yourself the way that one would normally. For the longest time, even since you were a child, you never fully opened up to anyone. You would just go about your normal routine as if everything were fine, and bottle up everything you were feeling. Even when you were going through some of the worst times of your life, you still managed to keep face and put on a display of being okay, even though you were on the verge of dying inside. Still, you were able to get through most of your life like this and you were fine with things being the way they were. That is, until a certain someone fell into your life.

When you first met Harry, it was like a breath of fresh air. Even though you still had your wall up and didn’t feel the urge to fully express yourself, you still felt like you could come to him with everything if you wanted to. He was just like the other people you’d met in the past who were nice and willing to get close to you. But at the same time, he still managed to be different than anyone you’d met in the past. You felt a sense of closeness to him that you couldn’t readily explain and that was unlike anyone you’d met before. He made you want to express yourself and release all of the emotions you had pent up inside of you for what felt like forever. It was like he was the person that you needed in your life who could draw out these things out of you. And after a period of time, he was in fact able to do this.

At first, you were beyond anxious to be open and honest to someone about your feelings. But over time, the wall you’d built began to come down and you just allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Harry. And he was able to do the same. You both were able to lower your guards around each other and actually be free. The two of you were able to create a strong and solid friendship that would span across almost 3 years. Whenever something happened in each others lives, you both were each others first call. It was a friendship that neither of you wanted to take for granted. And you both, especially you, made sure to appreciate every moment and each other.

Your appreciation for Harry went a bit deeper though.

You guys’ overall dynamic in the past year hadn’t changed at all. You two still did just about everything together and had a great time in each others company. It was your personal flow that had undergone a drastic change. You began to develop feelings that had gone far beyond the boundary of being platonic. They’d grown to be something beyond the scope of a simple camaraderie. You started to develop romantic feelings for your best friend. It wasn’t uncommon for this to happen, it was normal for someone to develop these feelings towards a person they spent a lot of time with and are close to. It was just that the success rate for transitioning out of a loving, close, and healthy friendship to a loving, romantic, and healthy relationship was slim to none. And for you and particular, you felt like your chances were in the negatives.

It’s already a rough thing to deal with when you find out that the person you have feelings for doesn’t feel the same way towards you. But these pangs of rejection are on a completely different level when you realize that you’re not even their type. Now you didn’t know for a fact what Harry’s “type” was. You’d asked him on separate occasions and his answer was always the same. He’d simply tell you that “if somethings there, then it’s worth a shot”. And you’d always respond with a “that makes sense”, deciding to not go there all together. Even though he said that he didn’t have a type, you knew that in his subconscious, he did in fact have one. There were things about you that didn’t at all align with his exes as a whole. If you had to be blunt, you weren’t skinny, tall, blonde, and white. You were a thick, average in height, dark haired, dark skinned, black woman. The differences between the two were uncanny and that was perfectly fine. You welcomed and celebrated everyones differences. And so did Harry; when it wasn’t his love life.

He just didn’t venture out into other things when it came to his love and personal life. You could honestly say that this was true because you watched it all from the sidelines. You were a bystander and sounding board to Harry during his most recent relationship, and just in general. You recognized the pattern in the women he’d choose to pursue. You’ve even seen in the magazines and on the internet, the people he’d been involved with in the past. And they all were extremely similar.

Seeing all of this made you think that something was wrong with you. What made them so special? You just wanted him to look at you the same way he looked at them. Developing all of these newfound feelings caused you to begin to slip back into your old ways. You began holding in and internalizing everything when it came to this. You’d put on a brave face and act as if everything was okay. You were putting all of your energy into making Harry believe that you were fine. And you successfully did that. He had no clue as to what and how you were feeling, and you wanted to keep it that way. The last thing you wanted to do was lose the person who not only you cared deeply about, but the person who cared deeply about you. You couldn’t lose your best friend.

This endless cycle went on for months. You kept these feelings to yourself and you just kept things going. You hated doing this, but it was what you thought was the best for you. You hated the thought of losing Harry over this. But at the end of the day, you could only take but so much. You could relate this entire thing to a sponge. It takes in all the water it possibly can and eventually, little drops will begin to spill out when it’s reached its maximum capacity for water. You were the sponge. You had been internalizing or harboring all of these feelings for such a long period of time that eventually you were going to reach your tipping point. It was going to get to a place where you’d have to release all of it and tell Harry how you truly felt. And you really wanted to do that. In the past, talking about your feelings was something that you tried, and eventually swore you’d never do. You even tried therapy, but it just wouldn’t work for you. But with Harry, you wanted to talk to him and tell him how you felt. So keeping this inside for so long after not holding it all in for a little over two years was a definite struggle.

In all of this though, you had no idea that the struggle you faced in holding everything inside was nowhere near the level of struggle you faced when you finally let it all out.

The end of the week had finally came which meant that it was you and Harry’s night to hang out and talk about you guys’ week…even though you two talked just about everyday. This just gave you two an excuse to hang out. After you two made and ate dinner, you two decided to head outside and sit by the pool to enjoy Harry’s view and watch the sunset. The conversation between the two of you seamlessly bounced from subject to subject, and it managed to bounce all the way to relationships.

“Any hot dates comin’ up?” Harry asks beside you, taking another swig from his glass of wine.

“No. None that I know of at least. You?” You reply, redirecting the question back to him.

“Me neither, but I have been talking to someone for the past couple of days.” Harry replies.

“And you haven’t told me this?! As your best friend, I feel offended.” You joke with him, sitting up from the chair to get a better look at him.

“Don’t be offended, you’ll always be my number one.” Harry coos with a laugh. “It’s nothing major or serious I guess.” He continues.

“Got a picture?” You ask. Asking him this was a big mistake.

“I think so.” Harry replies, pulling his phone out of his pocket. After a few seconds, he hands the phone over to you and there it was. A girl who looked exactly like everyone else he’s dated.

“Oh, she looks just like everyone else you’ve dated.” You hum amusedly, handing the phone back to him. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have said that. But you had a pretty good buzz going from the drinks Harry made, and the glass of wine you were currently working with. So your lips were a little bit looser than normal.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asks with a very confused tone.

“No offense, but she looks like most of your exes.” You repeat, thinking back to the picture Harry just showed you.

“No she does not.” Harry says adamantly, brushing off your comment.

“It’s okay Harry, we all know that you have a type.” You softly laugh. You were only teasing him...right?

“I do not have a type Y/n! Where is this coming from?” You could hear in his voice that he was genuinely confused.

“This is coming from your best friend who’s seen you in a relationship with someone who not only looks like the girl you just showed me, but also girls before her.” You explain.

“Well tell me these similarities because I’m still not following.”

“Tall, skinny, blonde, and-“ You didn’t even think about the last and final one before saying it. “white.” You finish, listing off every last similarity.

“No they’re no-“ Harry couldn’t even finish his own sentence. He realized that it was in fact true. He didn’t know why he’d never seen the pattern before. He also couldn’t wrap his head around why you were so up and arms about it. When he looked at you, he could tell that you weren’t feeling the best about this conversation. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol or him just being really bad at comprehension. He just wanted to make sense of it all and where it was coming from.

“Can you honestly say that I, or anyone that looks like me for that matter would have an equal shot at being with you?”

There it was. The crazy thing about it all was that the question you just asked him, wasn’t even the bulk of what you really wanted to tell him. You weren’t even expecting to talk to him about this at all. You thought that you’d have a little bit more time to collect your thoughts, but all of this came completely out of left field.

Asking Harry that question, along with the entire conversation in general was like stabbing yourself in the heart. It wasn’t even a full conversation and you were already dying inside. Every second of silence from Harry that went by was like a twist to the knife that was already buried inside you. You wanted to blame Harry for the horrible way you were feeling, but you couldn’t. You wanted to blame yourself for even bringing it up, but you couldn’t do that either. All you could do was sit there and try your best to muster up the tiniest bit of strength to pick yourself up and leave. Your body felt extremely heavy and you just wanted to get out of there.

Without uttering a single word to Harry, you finally pick yourself up and you walk away from him and the entire situation. Harry was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that he did in fact have a type, but seeing you walk away from him like that crushed him. He felt like you were not only walking away from him, you were also walking out of his life. He felt absolutely crushed and completely helpless. He was all alone. He had so many thoughts and feelings running around in his head that he couldn’t even chase after you to help him figure them out. And by the time he would finally build up the strength and courage to go after you, you would’ve already been gone.

When you walked back into the house, you didn’t waste any time gathering your belongings that you’d brought with you before leaving out the front door. Since you were drinking, you decided to just call an Uber and just come back to get your car in the morning. For the next 5 minuets, you just stood outside Harry’s home. Staring blankly at whatever was around, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes, and trying to take your mind off of everything.

You were so glad that the driver wasn’t trying to engage in a conversation with you because you weren’t in the mood at all. You just wanted complete silence. If you were to talk, you were going to burst into tears. And the last thing you wanted to do was permanently scar your Uber driver, so you decided to just stay silent.

When you finally got to your building, you rushed out a quick thank you to the driver and you sprinted through the building and up to your apartment. The moment you stepped foot inside was the first time you breathed in the past two hours. As soon as you shut your front door you just collapsed into a heaping pile of tears. You were pretty much sobbing against your front door. This was the worst you’d ever felt in a really long time. You felt a mixture of anger, sadness, and pain. This was one of the sole reasons why you hated letting people in. Bringing those walls down meant that you were exposed and vulnerable. You had no defense what so ever. You tore those walls down just to have someone tear you apart, and leave you to pick up the pieces. You were torn apart by the person you needed the most.

While you were at home bawling your eyes out, Harry was still wrapping his mind around what you said and what he didn’t say. The buzz he once had going was now gone, and his mind was all over the place. He didn’t even move from where he was sitting. He just sat outside and thought about it all. Harry realized that he not only had a type, but you had feelings for him. He thought that you only considered him to be a close friend and nothing more. But when you said “I, or anyone who looks like me…” he was able to read in between the lines to understand that you were mainly talking about yourself. It crushed Harry even more when he thought about the possibility of you not thinking that you were good enough for him. Simply because of his “preferences”, that were unbeknownst to him from the past. The fact that he made you feel this way was beyond gut wrenching and he just wanted to go back in time and tell you that the only type he has is you. That was one of the reasons that he clung to you the way he did. He looked to you as the model of what he could ever want in a partner. He always looked to you for your opinions and guidance because you were one of the best people that had ever came into his life. But instead of saying all of this, what he truly felt deep down, he didn’t say anything at all. He let you slip out of his grasp, and he didn’t know how to get you back. He didn’t even know if he was going to get you back. In that moment, he realized that his love for you went way beyond the general scope of being best friends. It wasn’t until 2 am that Harry was able to pick himself up from the lounge chair outside and go upstairs to bed. And even then, he still felt horrible. He was numb. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t end up going to bed until 5 am because he couldn’t stop crying and worrying. What made him completely break down was the fact that he couldn’t even call you. He couldn’t talk to the one person that always helped him through his dark times and picked him up. He knew what it was like to hit rock bottom, but this was an all-time low for Harry.

That night was officially at top of the list for the worst nights of you and Harry’s lives.

The next day was just as bad, if not worse than the last. You ended up falling asleep on the couch, and Harry couldn’t even get out of bed. The both of you were a mess and you didn’t know what to do. You avoided any type of communication with each other. The only time you and Harry interacted was to tell him that you were using the gate code to get your car from his driveway. After that, there was radio silence. The simple thought of each other could bring you both to tears. This entire ordeal didn’t last for just a day or two. It lasted for almost a week. The both of you were too emotional and broken to even function. You were using the time you saved up on your job to sulk around at home and stay inside your bubble sadness and heartbreak. And Harry was neglecting all of the things that he needed to do so that he could stay in bed and try to take his mind off of you. But after what was going on to be day 5, Harry couldn’t take anymore of this. It wasn’t because he was feeling horrible. It was because Harry knew that he broke your heart. He had the clearest picture of you at home, completely broken up because of him. He could almost feel your pain and he hated it. He needed to tell you his true feelings and beg you to forgive him. He couldn’t sit around anymore and not talk to you. You were not only his best friend, you were also the woman that he loved. In the days of him sitting at home and thinking, he realized that he didn’t give it a shot. He didn’t give you a shot. He was constantly chasing after something that was already his and right in front of him.

After a long much needed shower, Harry got himself dressed and ready to go over to your place. On the way over, Harry made a stop to the florist that was in your direction and picked up the biggest bouquet of sunflowers he could possibly buy. Not only were they your favorite flower, but you always seemed to gravitate towards the yellows because “they make my skin tone pop.” And they certainly did. Even remembering those little things could make Harry want to just burst into tears. For the rest of the drive to your apartment, Harry practiced all of the points he wanted to make out loud. He made sure that he remembered every last thing he wanted to say…and there was a lot. He was also preparing for the moment where you’d tell him that you didn’t want to talk to him ever again. Even though it may have seemed a bit extreme, he could understand why. He hurt you, and that’s the consequence that he’d have to pay. As he got closer and closer to your building, Harry could feel the butterflies in his stomach intensify and his lunch slowly make it’s way back up. He wasn’t feeling good at all, but he couldn’t turn his back on you and not try at all to redeem himself.

Between the time Harry got out of his car to when he was finally standing at your door was rough. As he got closer, his body got weaker. He was feeling a combination of embarrassment, sadness, anger, and worry. These feelings were so strong that he had to take two minuets before knocking on your door to stop himself from either throwing up or crying. Eventually he was able to get himself somewhat together and finally knock on your door.

When you hear the knock, you were sitting on your couch with your fluffy bathrobe on (that just so happened to be the one Harry brought you during one of his trips to Italy) with a pint of ice cream in hand, watching whatever was on the tv at the moment. You wanted to ignore the knock all together and just focus on your ice cream and the tv but you didn’t want to leave the person at the door hanging. So you reluctantly sit the cup down and you drag yourself to the door. When you look out through the peephole, your anxiety in that moment skyrockets. What in the world was Harry doing at your front door?! Even though you looked like an absolute mess and you didn’t want to talk to him in that moment, you still open the door for him.

When the door swings open and he sees you the waterworks begin all over again. He could see how puffy your face was from crying and how disheveled you looked and he hated it. He could feel the warm tears bubbling up in his eyes, but he was trying to do his best to keep them back. The two of you just stand there before Harry decides to talk.

“M’so sorry Y/n.” That’s all he could say. He wasn’t just apologizing for what he said or didn’t say. He was also trying to say that he was a sorry person. It took him losing you for what felt like an eternity to really see how amazing you are and how much you contributed to his life.

“Wanna come in?” You ask him, stepping to the side to let him into your apartment. In that moment Harry just wanted to scoop you up into his arms and never let you go. He wanted to feel your warm and happy disposition that was now being clouded because of him. He wanted his Y/n back. When he walks inside, he quickly kicks his shoes off at the door and follows you into the kitchen.

“I got these for you.” He whispers, sitting the large bouquet on the counter and sitting on the other side.

“Thanks.” You whisper back to him, sending a soft smile his way. You wanted to almost to reassure Harry that you weren’t mad at him anymore. You were just sad and heartbroken. You never had feelings like these in such a large magnitude before. And because of this, you weren’t expecting any of what happened.

You silently turn away from him to grab the two vases you had in the cabinet and you sit them down on the counter in front of Harry.

“I’m sorry if I overreacted on Friday. I just…” you mumble, beginning to unwrap the pretty flowers that were laying on the counter. You were trying to get your thoughts together but it was so hard.

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about. It was all my fault for not saying anything or acknowledging you.” When he says that, your breaths become shakier and a tear slips from your eye. You continue to keep your focus on the flowers as you try to compose your next sentence in your head. You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t even notice Harry coming around to your side of the counter. He softly pulls your hands away from the flowers and he pulls you into his body.

That was the moment you needed. You thought your release was over the past few days but they were only building up to this. Feeling his arms securely wrapped around you was the only thing you wanted or needed from him. Feeling and hearing your cries only made Harry cry too. The both of you just stood there in your kitchen holding each other as you both poured your hearts out to each other through your tears. This time, not saying anything was saying everything. The both of you could feel what the other was feeling and wanted to say. It was like a large weight was lifted off of you both. After a few more moments of crying and being in your arms, Harry needed to get one thing off of his chest. When he pulls away from you he cups both of your cheeks in his hands and he looks right into your eyes. He wanted to make sure that you knew that he meant every last word that was coming out of his mouth.

“I can’t even explain how sorry I am Y/n. You mean the world to me and I can’t even fathom the idea of not having you in my life. Seeing you completely broken the other night haunts me everyday and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for that. After not having your in my life, even if it was only a few days, I realized that I can’t live without you. I’ve spent so much time and energy looking for my match when I didn’t even bother to look right in front of me. The only type that I have is you. You’re absolutely stunning, inside and out. I feel like a proper dick for making you feel like you weren’t good enough for me. It’s me who’s not good enough. I let you down and I’ll never forget that. You’ve never left my side in the past 3 years and I couldn’t even give you a simple answer. I love you so much and I’ll never stop.” When Harry says this, the knife that was once burrowed in your heart was gone and the wound is patched up as if it never happened. Sure it’ll take time for it all to completely go away, but this was a hell of a good start.

“I love you so much.” You whimper, feeling another heavy round of hot tears cascade down your face. Harry then pulls your head towards his and presses a long, warm kiss right onto your forehead. That, along with his previous words got rid of the clouds. You were happy again. Your once full sponge was now empty. This meant that you could fill it up again, only this time with feelings of love and happiness. You could finally retire from building walls around yourself and continue experiencing the good that came from being vulnerable.

Masterlist

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x woc #harry styles woc imagines #harry styles writing #my harry writing #concepts of h #harrywritingsbyme

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kindahoping4forever · 4 years

Text

Watch Me Bloom: A Few Months Ago // Ashton Irwin

I’m so excited to finally share this with everyone! As I mentioned, the week leading up to Superbloom really inspired me. It was so hard to believe that just seven months prior, we were living the ups and downs of CALM’s release while this was a essentially a never ending parade of self-reflection and joy. My fic Release explored a relationship dealing with CALM and I thought it’d be fun to see what the Superbloom experience might look like thru the lens of a relationship. (I wouldn’t say it’s a sequel - in my mind, they’re different relationships- but you could call it a thematic companion.)

As always (but honestly even more so this time because omg this section especially changed again and again), my eternal love and gratitude to @cal-puddies for always offering direction, notes, encouragement and a good roast when I need it.

Warnings: What a surprise, it’s Boyfriend!Ash. Brief quarantine mention. So much fluffy smut you’ll wonder if I’m alright. Oral sex performed on a female. Unprotected sex within an established relationship. This is the tame chapter, folks. The calm before the smutty storm, if you will.

Word Count: 3319

Watch Me Bloom Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let me know what you think!

You sleepily roll over to snuggle your boyfriend but instead of being surrounded by the warm firmness of Ashton’s back, you feel cool air and the beginnings of a falling sensation. Your body jolts awake to catch itself, your brain making the unpleasant discovery that there’s no one laying next to you and you’re about to tumble off the couch. You shake your head upon realizing you once again fell asleep in the living room, watching TV.

It was a bad habit you fell into once Ashton got busy with his new project. You still hadn’t gotten used to falling asleep without him and a part of you can’t help but long for the early days of quarantine, when you spent the majority of your time lazily wrapped up in sheets and each other.

But as time went on, you started waking up alone and finding him sitting outside with a coffee, scribbling away on a notepad. Other days you’d wake up to the sounds of him already in the shower, singing gibberish words to fill out gorgeous melodies he dreamt of and is trying to perfect while he gets ready to take on the day.

He eventually showed those scribbles and shower songs to his housemate, Matt, who helped him shape them into demos, which they then decided to make into fully produced tracks. After weeks of rearranged furniture, strewn about instruments and dodging cables running through the hall, Ash gleefully shared that he planned to release these songs as his own album. You’d kissed him happily, shared in his joy and teased him relentlessly that it took him this long to tell you. You couldn’t have been happier for him and you loved seeing him excited about work again, especially after the frustration surrounding the band's album release earlier this year, but every night when you go to bed alone, you just miss him.

You shuffle into the kitchen and dump the rest of your long forgotten tea in the sink, turning on the tap to wash the cup. While you wait for the water to warm up, you cartoonishly stretch your arms over your head and loudly yawn.

“Long day?” A voice asks from across the room.

You chuckle and turn to greet Matt, who’s headed towards the sink with an armful of various mugs he and Ashton must’ve used for tea, coffee and water over the course of the day.

“Well, I got up earlier than usual and Ash had already made his side of the bed, so I’m sure it was nowhere near as long as yours,” you comment, reaching out to take the dishes from him.

He silently thanks you with a kind smile. “Yeah he was up and at it even before me today,” he admits, shaking his head. “Had quite the breakthrough today, though. I’m sure he’d love to tell you about it if you wanna pay him a visit.”

You lightheartedly scoff as you quickly wash the cups. “And also he’s just moved from your studio down to his and you think I can talk him into actually getting some rest?”

He laughs at how well you know your boyfriend. “I told him I was gonna call it a night but I don’t think he’s taking the hint,” he admits.

“Sounds like our guy,” you shrug, setting the clean mugs on the rack to dry. “I’ll pop by and check on him before I turn in.”

You head for the bathroom and quickly go through your routine; you mentally cheer when you turn on the light and see Ash’s green henley draped haphazardly over the bathtub. It smells like him so he must have just tossed it aside when he showered earlier; you inhale deeply as you slip it over your head and throw on a pair of sleep shorts before heading down to the basement where he’s working.

You tentatively make your way down the stairs, not wanting to startle him. As you suspected, he’s intently focused on his computer screen, dragging and dropping components of a track, trying to layer the elements just the way he wants, something he was recently so proud to tell you he had learned to do.

You knock quietly on the wall when you reach the bottom. He turns around to investigate and exclaims your name with far too much enthusiasm for the late hour. He opens his arms, which you know means he wants you to come sit on his lap. He greets you with a sweet kiss as soon as you sit down and hums when he recognizes the scent of your nighttime skin products. “Bedtime already?” He asks, sounding slightly disappointed.

You jab his side playfully. “Already? It’s pretty fucking late, dude,” you tease. “I fell asleep on the couch again.”

“Aww, baby, no,” he commiserates, stroking your arm empathetically. "You weren’t waiting up for me again, were you?”

“Maybe subconsciously,” you shrug. “Missed you a lot today. Dreamt about you last night. Dreamt about you while I was asleep right now. I dunno, it’s weird.” He hugs you tighter to him and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. “Matt said you had a good day, though?” You say in a bright voice, trying to compensate for your sad admission.

Ashton softly smiles and squeezes your leg, indicating he knows you wish you hadn’t told him what you did. “Yeah, it was crazy, I woke up with this song in my head and I had to rush down here before it went away,” he explains. “It was so clear in my mind - every instrument, every aspect of the production - and it took all day but we’ve almost got it exactly how I imagined it.”

You rest against him while he clicks around on the computer, playing you different files and explaining each step they took in their process that day. You watch him, instead of the screen, admiring the way he lights up when he talks about his art, the way his dimples just keep sinking deeper and deeper as he delights in telling you the inventive tactic they came up with to get the guitars to sound a certain way.

You peck at his cheek, enjoying the scratch from his light beard. “I’m so glad you had a good day,” you coo. “Think you might want to head up to bed with me now, though? I love seeing how happy this makes you but you’ve still gotta take care of yourself, babe. Still working when I go to bed and getting back at it before I wake up? It’s happening a lot and I get worried sometimes.”

He plays with the hem of your - his - shirt while he listens to your concern. “I know. It’s just easy to get caught up when it’s going good. And it’s all been going so good!” His wide smile turns to an understanding nod when he sees you lovingly shake your head at his excited excuse. “But I know you’re right, baby, I promise I have been trying to be mindful. Today was just the perfect storm.”

“OK,” you murmur, believing him for now, knowing you’ll surely be having this conversation again in a few days’ time. He tilts your chin up to him and moves in for a soft kiss. You sigh as his lips gently move over yours and you reach up to run your fingers through his hair; because of the lockdown, he’d been letting it grow and you were loving it. You’d convinced him to let you trim it a few times to keep it healthy and now you were obsessed with getting your hands on it all the time.

He starts to pull away but you let out a slight whine and bring him back in, deepening the kiss while you’re at it. He lets you lead the makeout as he wraps his arms around you, holding your body against his. You shift yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him in the chair.

“Is this your plan to tire me out so I’ll come to bed?” Ash grins.

"Thought this was your plan," you tease, tugging his lip between your teeth. "You asked me to sit in your lap, I know your style."

He giggles as you start nipping at his jawline before making your way down his neck and settling in to kiss up and down his collarbones. He sits back and lets you work, running his hands up and down the back of your top, occasionally letting his hands wander down to appreciate how tight your sleep shorts fit over your ass.

“You’re markin’ me up, baby,” he laughs, attempting to detach your mouth from his chest.

You allow him to bring your mouth back up to his, darting your tongue across his bottom lip before saying with a smirk, “Something to help you remember me while you’re locked away working.”

Before he can respond, you move in to kiss him again and as you feel him growing hard underneath you, you lazily begin grinding on him. He groans and moves against you a few times before running a hand up the leg of your shorts.

He raises his eyebrows when he feels how wet you already are for him. “Aww, you really have been missin’ me, huh?” He teases, eyes shining in the dimly lit room. “You know you can always just tell me when you need me, that’s part of the fun of working at home.”

“Don’t wanna interrupt the artistic genius process,” you tease back, sitting further back on his thighs so you can palm him through his shorts. “Plus, I don’t think Matt would appreciate that very much.”

“I’d love it if we didn’t talk about Matt while your hand is on my dick,” he jokes, lifting his hand out of your shorts and up to his lips to lick. You roll your hips impatiently as you watch his lips suck your essence off his fingertips. “Mmm, sweet tonight, baby,” he murmurs. “Think I’m gonna need more.”

Ashton grips the backs of your thighs and suddenly he’s standing to lift you off of his lap and onto the desk in front of him. He deftly uses one hand to move his laptop and various hard drives to the side and uses the other to start tugging your shorts and panties down.

He drops to his knees and the surprise of that sight gets a low moan out of you. When he licks a stripe up your center, you take on a much whinier tone. “Babyyyy,” you try to reason with him, tugging on the collar of his white t-shirt. “I don’t wanna keep you awake any later than you need to be, let’s just fuck and get some sleep.”

He sits back on his heels, peeling off his shirt, flinging it behind him. “Heard my girl was missing me,” he counters, dragging a finger slowly through your wetness. “Gotta make sure you can make it through the day tomorrow.” His thumb plays gently at your clit while he runs his beard along your inner thigh - he’s learned you love the scratch - before fixing his mouth on your skin, clearly intent on leaving a large hickey.

You shiver when without much fanfare, Ash starts softly licking at your clit with just the tip of his tongue. “That’s my needy girl,” he says in a low voice that gives you almost as much of a chill as his mouth just did. Your brain constructs a witty reply but you’re not entirely sure the mumble that came out of your mouth made sense; his tongue is fluttering against your clit now and his hands are forcefully spreading your legs wider while somehow also tenderly massaging your skin.

You pry your hands off the edge of the desk where you’ve been bracing yourself and wrap them in his hair while his mouth works you, loving how his eyes dart up to thank you every time you brush a wayward curl off his forehead. It’s a great juxtaposition to the warning look you get when you start bucking your hips against his face. You didn’t mean to start getting rowdy but he slipped his fingers inside you at just the right angle and at the same time his beard dragged across your skin and his lips finally enveloped your clit - you couldn’t help yourself.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he soothes, sliding his hand underneath your shirt and laying his palm flat across your stomach to settle your movements. “Need it that bad? Could’ve sworn I had you the other night, you’re acting like I haven’t touched you in weeks.” His tone is the perfect blend of condescension and care and his words tease you almost as intensely as his fingers curling inside you.

Your reply is interrupted with a surprised moan when he fits his lips over your clit once again and starts sucking rapidly. “Maybe… having you… just makes… Jesus… makes me want you… mmm-more… fuck, babe, I’m cumming.”

You’re shocked by how fast and strong your orgasm hits you - maybe Ashton’s teasing wasn’t too far off and you are just that needy. You lay back on the desk, tugging at his hair, biting your lip to keep from crying out too loudly; try as you might, you can’t ignore the urge to grind against his mouth and the vibration from his groaning only adds to your pleasure.

He keeps at it until you push him away and you whine when he withdraws his fingers from you; you’ve just barely caught your breath when you squeeze his arm to get his attention, craving him near. He, of course, knows what you need and stands to tend to you. He brushes his fingers across your lips before cleaning the rest of your wetness off of them with his own mouth.

You’re pretty sure you see his cock jump in his basketball shorts as your tongue peeks out of your mouth to sample what he’s shared with you. “Taste good, baby?” He asks with heavy breath.

“Tastes better when I’m mixed with you,” you counter, pulling him in.

He moans into your passionate kiss, one hand trying to lean you back on the desk and the other yanking his shorts down. You resist his attempt, catching him off guard by pushing on his shoulders, guiding him back to his abandoned office chair; you climb in his lap to straddle him again, explaining, “Been wanting you like this all day.”

You take his cock in your hand and give it a few strokes before lifting yourself up and tapping your clit with the tip; you play like this for a minute, using him to tease yourself, rubbing your pussy on him, coating him in your wetness until he grabs your hips and sighs your name in a soft plea.

Smiling to yourself, you think maybe you should rib him about being as needy as you, except you don’t want to wait any longer to get him inside you; he watches intently as you balance yourself on the arms of the chair to line up and sink down on him. You groan together in lustful harmony at the feeling and you begin tentatively rocking your hips, enjoying the familiar stretch of him filling you.

You’ve got a moderate rhythm going when Ash starts playing with your nipples through your shirt; you slow your pace a bit and reach to pull the henley off when he stops you. “Leave it on,” he requests with a glint in his eye, fingers swiftly undoing a few buttons to expose more of your chest. “Now whenever I wear it, I won’t be able to stop picturing you riding me.”

You grin at him and lean back on his thighs, grinding slowly on his cock, trying to find that perfect angle. His hands are all over you, under and over the shirt, running over the tops and inside of your thighs; his grip eventually settles on your ass, kneading it and helping you bounce yourself on him.

You ride him at varying speeds, paying attention to the sounds he’s making and the way his body responds to your movements; you can’t get enough of seeing his jaw clench as he struggles not to fuck up into you, trying to let you have your moment.

He squeezes your ass so hard you know there’s bound to be finger shaped bruises in the morning. “Fuck, Ash,” you whisper, mouth against his ear. Your tongue flicks out to toy with his earring and the gasp you get in response is as satisfying as you’d hoped.

“Gettin’ close,” he strains, lifting his hips against yours slowly, thinking if he’s subtle enough maybe you won’t mind.

“God… same,” you tell him, speeding up and bringing a hand between your legs. “Wanna cum with you, babe.”

Ashton takes that as permission to be more blatant with his thrusting and as your breath starts stuttering, he even throws in a few slaps across your ass cheeks; his instincts are correct and within seconds you’re pulsing around him. Your eyes squeeze shut and flashes of white are all you see; you can tell by the tone of his voice he’s praising you as you orgasm but you can’t process what he’s saying.

His arms wrap around you and he holds you close as you squeeze his cock. You rock against him, working yourself through it when he buries his face in your chest to muffle an exhausted grunt as he cums inside you. You stroke his hair, murmuring how good he feels; he catches his breath and his embrace tightens around you as he pulls you into a soft yet sloppy kiss.

“Love you,” he says quietly, resting his head between your breasts again, beard prickling your skin.

You play with the thin chain he’s wearing, admiring the way the silver contrasts with the dark ink on the back of his neck. You’ve seen this side of Ash more in the past few months than you had the entire time you’d been together and it still takes you aback every time it comes out. “Love you too,” you whisper in reply.

He helps you off of him and you excuse yourself to the adjoining bathroom. When you return a few minutes later, he’s redressed, the desk is back in order and all his equipment is shut off.

“Bedtime?” You ask, pleasantly surprised.

He grins. “Like I’d be able to think about anything else tonight,” he reaches for your hand. There’s a comfortable silence as he starts to lead you out of the room before pausing at the foot of the stairs and turning to you. “You know I miss you too, right? When I’m working all the time like this? I think about you a lot.”

You lift your joined hands, kissing his knuckles. “I know, babe, I’m sorry if I made you feel bad when I said all that, I was just tired,” you frown slightly.

Ash slings his arm around you, kissing the top of your head. “Can I tell you a secret? This shirt was actually clean, I sprayed it with cologne and left it out for you,” he laughs, tugging at your collar. “Wanted to wear tomorrow and spend the day having you close to me.”

“Ashhhh, that’s so sweet it’s almost gross,” you aww. He chuckles as you hop onto the step in front of him and peck rapidly at his lips. “Bold of you to assume I’d let you have it back, though.”

He snorts and follows you up the stairs. You turn to him at the top. “Make you a deal: if you’re still in bed with me when I wake up tomorrow, the shirt’s yours.”

He spins you around and gives you a gentle swat, directing you to the bedroom. “Deal.”

————-

@mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @loveroflrh @ghostofmashton @sexgodashton @spookydaddycal

@castaway-cashton @ashtonlftv @cashtonasfuck @megz1985 @ashdork-irwin @angelicfluffs @findingliam-o @abadaftertaste @youngbloodchild @irwinsbetch @ashsun @everyscarisahealingplace

@wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands @another-lonely-heart-blog @realisticnotes @makeamovehemmings @golden166 @burstintocolor

@mfartzzz @babyoria @saphseoul @petunias-pet @youngblood199456 @notinthesameguey @seanna313 @calumftduke @zhangyixingxing1 @stardust-galaxies @zackoid

@queenalienscherrypie @lovelybonesetc @Obey-Kaylin @xsongxbirdx @justhereforcalum

@laura66sos @calumrose @karajaynetoday @pilunb @jazzyangel242 @babylon-corgis @heyheyhaleyd @calmsweetcreature

@spicycal @talkfastromance4 @holystxne @myloverboyash

@meetmedowntown @ashtonangst

@irwindoll @cheekysos @carrielfisher @lukedorkyhemmings @creampiecashton @lovelywordsblog

@trix-arent-for-kids @uh-huhh-honey @tobefalling @aladyofalbion

@likehuhdude @curlycalums @cxddlyash @reddesert-healourblues

#5sos smut #5 seconds of summer smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton smut #ashton irwin fic #Kindahoping4forever #smut #kh4f fic #Watch Me Bloom #WMB: A Few Months Ago #For real I cannot tell you how much help Cass was - I rewrote this from scratch at least twice #Please let me know what you think #Feedback is appreciated #and apologies for it being so long in between fics - ya gettin 3 this week (and i have at least one more ready to go at some point) so #you'll be sick of me soon enough 😂#Part 2 on Wednesday!

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css1992 · 3 years

Text

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

All the warnings listed on Part I apply.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X / Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

The last couple of weeks of May flew by, soon June arrived and with it even more sunny days and warmer temperatures. Peter couldn’t help but think that his life fell apart in the winter, and as summer approached, it was slowly getting back on track. He was able to save a decent amount of money every month, his apartment was coming together – he even had a dinner table and chairs by the second week of June –, he was taking on more responsibility at BFF way quicker than expected and he was happier, in general.

He felt comfortable enough to make plans again – with the steady money he was making, he might be able to give up porn in a couple of years and he would still be eligible to apply for some of BFF’s grants and scholarships, meaning he may be able to go to college at 23, after all. Money would be tight for a while, but it was doable. He could always work part-time to supplement his income as well.

Summer also brought some unexpected good news. On a random Thursday morning, he was bombarded with messages on Twitter and Instagram from people asking where they could find his videos now that Beck’s channel was down. He was confused at first, but when he went to check, the channel wasn’t there, it had disappeared from the site.

He gasped. For a total of five seconds, his mind went wild, his heart raced, and his eyes watered. For those five seconds, he felt a mixture of happiness, relief and confusion, knowing those videos weren’t out there anymore, couldn’t be found, couldn’t be seen, couldn’t be remembered. But it was only for five blissful seconds. When his brain turned back on and the first rush of excitement died down, he realized that probably wouldn’t last.

That had happened before, when they first started posting. People mass reported the videos and the channel until they got taken down, because Peter looked very young at eighteen. They had to send a picture of his ID to the website for check several times, it was months before it stopped happening once and for all. Peter assumed Beck was posting videos of his new boyfriend, who he knew looked very young, so it was probably just a misunderstanding and only a matter of time until he got the channel – and the videos – back up.

Still, he allowed himself to count that as a win and couldn’t help but feeling giddy all day, to the point where everybody noticed his good mood – Ned, MJ, people at BFF and Tony.

Tony, who didn’t disappear. As days and nights and weeks went by, Peter stopped waiting for it to happen.

“Someone is awfully cheery today.” The older man grinned at him from the driver’s side that night, as Peter sang along to Ed Sheeran, because it was his turn to choose the playlist. Tony had picked him up from BFF and they were heading to his place for a quiet night in.

“It’s a good day, Tony.” He shot back after the chorus of Put it All on Me and the older man beamed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up.

“It sure is, kitten.” He turned up the volume and Peter sang even louder, causing Tony to burst out laughing.

At some point, he realized life was a little less complicated than he gave it credit for. He realized that if he actually gave things the precise amount of thought they deserved, not everything felt like the end of the world. The minute he decided to just let things happen the way they were supposed to happen, without overthinking every detail, life got so much easier.

He decided not to make the thing with Tony a big deal. Sure, when he thought about it for more than two minutes, it seemed like a huge fucking deal, he was basically dating Tony Stark, one of the richest men in the world, Iron Man himself, the man who had literately saved half the universe from extinction not even two years earlier. So, yes, that seemed like a big fucking deal, but–

But.

To him, he was just Tony. This charming guy who texted him daily to ask about his day and crack acid jokes about his business associates. This kind guy who sent him chocolates when he was feeling down and cooked him dinner every weekend and made sure to e-mail him easy and healthy recipes so he wouldn’t starve to death. This gentle guy who called him beautiful and touched him with such care that he forgot how many hands had left bruises on his skin before.

When he forgot everything Tony was supposed to be and just focused on everything that he was to him, what they had seemed so simple and pure.

He stopped worrying about labels, too. In the beginning, he kept stressing about what they had, what was expected of him, what he expected of Tony, but eventually, he decided none of that mattered. They made each other feel good, they made each other happy, they made each other better, all in all, whatever label he could put on their relationship wouldn’t make any difference, so he let it go.

Weeks later, Peter heard Beck had managed to get the channel back up, only for it to get taken down again in a few hours, then his Instagram and Twitter also disappeared. He wasn’t too surprised, and if he was honest with himself, it was fun imagining Beck losing his mind as he tried to fix it. After all, every day the channel was down, he was losing money. And his social media, specially his Twitter account, was where he promoted his content to thousands of followers, so losing that meant losing money as well, and if there was one thing Peter knew Beck loved, it was money.

He wondered what the fuck the man had done to piss people off like that, it was clearly a coordinated attack, but he wasn’t curious enough to try and find out what happened. He would rather watch from a distance, rejoicing in the satisfaction it gave him to imagine that maybe, just maybe, one of those days Beck wouldn’t be able to get the channel back up and would have to start from scratch, like Peter did. And maybe then he wouldn’t re-upload his videos – that part was a little harder to believe, but who knew, stranger things had happened.

When June came to an end, Peter was surprised with a notification from Tony on Just4Fans. He had almost forgot the man was still subscribed to his account there, they obviously never chatted on the app anymore, and when he opened the notification, his blood ran cold in his veins.

It was a tip.

A hundred thousand dollars tip.

He couldn’t fucking believe it. A tip? For what, a job well done? It wasn’t like Peter was – what did that even mean? Was Tony trying to say something with that, send some kind of message?

He decided not to call him right away, he was too – upset. The older man was picking him up later that evening for dinner, so he decided to wait. Whatever he had to say to him, he wanted to hear it in person. He wanted him to look in his eyes and tell him he thought he was his fucking wh–

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked as soon he got in his car, avoiding the kiss that came his way. Tony blinked in surprise, trying to understand why he got a phone shoved in his face instead of a kiss, and then he finally saw what that was all about.

“Oh, that–“ But before he could answer anything, Peter interrupted.

“I told you I’m not – Tony, why would you – this is so insulting!” He was honestly at a loss for words. They had been seeing each other for almost two months by then, things were going great, they met every week, they made apple pie together, for God’s sake, had he misunderstood all the signs?

“My God, Peter, that’s not that, I just thought – I mean, I’m a billionaire, you know this is pocket change for me, right?” Peter gasped, shocked, and Tony’s eyes widened when he fumbled with the door handle. “Wait! I didn’t mean – Jesus, okay, hold on a second, please!” Tony reached over him to shut the door before Peter could get out of the car. The young man turned to look at him with tears in his eyes and Tony looked incredulous when he leaned back and ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t just assume the worst, have I given you any reason for that?” He sounded hurt, which made Peter gulp. He took a few calming breaths and shook his head slowly.

“No,” he whispered, dropping his gaze.

“Ok, good.” He actually sounded relieved at that. “I am a billionaire, Peter, and this is pocket change for me, which means –“ he raised his voice a little, predicting a reaction from him that didn’t come, “I didn’t realize this would be such a big deal. For me, it’s like giving you, I don’t know, flowers. I didn’t mean this as a payment for whatever you think this is, I just thought this would be a good help. You’re starting your life now, you have that list of yours that you don’t let me see, you’re saving up money, you have your plans for college, I just meant to help. I mean, if we weren’t together, I would have tipped you every month, so I thought –“

“But we are together, Tony, I –“ he was a little calmer then, because that was, in fact, a reasonable explanation and he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. “Look, I appreciate the gesture, but next time you mean to give me flowers, just give me flowers! I believe you have the best intentions at heart, but it’s just weird for me. I don’t want this to be about money. I just – don’t want that, okay?”

He gazed at the older man as he gaped at him, mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out for a while.

“I just thought – I mean, people usually –“ It was unusual to see Tony speechless like that, but the man shook his head and looked back at him, almost embarrassed. “I just want to help you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Peter poked him in the arm, trying to lighten up the mood in the car. “You’re teaching me how to cook. Yesterday I made an omelet and I only burned one side, I’m getting good at this. That’s a big help.”

Tony didn’t laugh at his joke, like he usually did, he just gazed at him with an unreadable expression, before leaning in to kiss him, which Peter gladly reciprocated.

“I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable,” he whispered, then, resting his forehead against his.

“And I’m sorry I was rude. It won’t happen again,” he promised, and he meant it.

After that night, he removed Tony from his Just4Fans, which came as a blow to the older man, who pouted and whined for about a week, only stopping when Peter showed up at his place one Saturday wearing Iron Man lingerie under his clothes – it was supposed to be a joke, but it worked surprisingly well for Tony.

By July, it became impossible to keep sneaking around Ned and MJ, as the dates became more frequent. Peter decided to tell them that he had met someone online and that they were getting to know each other. He told them it was nothing serious yet and if it became serious, they would meet him.

He did have to throw in a few lies to get them off his back – he definitely had to lie about Tony’s age to avoid certain comparisons, but he would cross that bridge when he got to it, if he ever got to it. He wasn’t sure if or when he was going to tell them the whole truth, but for the time being, he felt more comfortable keeping that relationship to himself.

He and Tony didn’t go out much, but when they did, it was always to fancy and discreet restaurants with private rooms; Tony was, after all, a celebrity for all intents and purposes, and at if the press got a whiff of them there would be no secret left to keep.

But staying in with Tony was far from boring. They cooked together and the older man taught him all of his grandmother’s secret recipes – Peter could never replicate them by himself at home, but it was still fun trying. They spent almost all of their time down in the workshop, though, where Tony had him do menial tasks, like screwing bolts or reaching for a part inside an Iron Man suit. He said his tiny hands were useful for his projects.

He knew he wasn’t really that useful, but he loved when Tony included him and asked for his help, even though he didn’t really need it. He was fascinated by everything the older man taught him in those moments and in turn Tony always looked proud and pleased when Peter put his lessons to use.

He didn’t mind keeping him company when Tony was focused on projects he couldn’t help with, he stayed there anyway, reading a book or watching TV on the tiny couch – Tony kept saying he was going to get a bigger one, but he didn’t believe it, he knew the older man enjoyed the fact that the only way they could fit comfortably on it was if Peter was lying half on top of him.

So after several weeks, they established a little routine of their own. Since Tony had a busy schedule and Peter was still trying to keep Ned and MJ somewhat in the dark, they didn’t meet that often on week days, but they always talked on the phone before bed. On Thursdays, Tony picked him up after his shift at BFF and he spent the night at his place. They had breakfast together on Fridays and then they met again every Saturday after lunch, and finally Tony dropped him back off home every Sunday evening, so he could have dinner with his friends.

In August, for the first time in his life, Peter had two birthday celebrations. One with his friends, when the three of them went bar-hopping and he got home so hammered he had absolutely no idea how they managed to climb the stairs, and another with Tony, when he decorated the workshop with balloons and put party hats on Dum-E and U.

“Surprise!” He yelled lamely, throwing confetti at Peter when they stepped into the workshop. The younger man laughed, delighted, as Tony hurried to the kitchenette and came back with something in his hands. “I know it doesn’t look good, but I promise it tastes good. Probably.” When Peter looked down, he noticed it was a large chocolate cake with ‘Happy Birthday, kitten’ written on it in bright pink icing. It looked so ugly, but it was so beautiful at the same time. “What did I do now?” Tony frowned, face falling.

He blinked a few times and when he touched his cheeks, he realized he was crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m just – really happy.” He grinned, pulling the older man’s face to give him a kiss. “Thank you.”

It was late October when Tony told him he had to go on a trip to China for two weeks, and even though it wasn’t his first work trip since they started dating, five months earlier, it would be by far the longest one since then, so it was kind of a big deal. Still, he didn’t expect to feel so affected, but on the days leading up to it he was so upset he couldn’t hide it.

They spent their last Sunday together wrapped up in each other doing absolutely nothing. They slept in, Tony brought Peter breakfast in bed, which was rewarded with a lazy and sloppy blow job, and they spent all day in bed, only getting up for essentials, like food and water. They didn’t even turn on the TV, they didn’t even talk much. They just held each other and exchanged slow, tender kisses until their bodies were too warm to stay under the sheets.

Tony ran a bath for them and got in the tub – it was big enough for eight people, but Peter made a point to sit in his lap, clinging to him like a koala. He felt Tony’s arms encircle him gently, as he rested his chin on top of his head.

“I’ll be home before you even have time to miss me, kitten.” He whispered, and those were the first words either of them had said in at least a few hours.

Peter didn’t tell him that was impossible since he already missed him, instead he just held him even tighter.

After the bath water went cold, they climbed out of the tub and Tony insisted on drying him, before dressing him in one of his own T-shirts, even though Peter had a multitude of spare clothes in his closet. He sat in bed, watching Tony pack a huge suitcase that reminded him just how long he would be gone for. He sulked a little – just a little – and that earned him a little kiss on his forehead, which was enough to undo the frown between his brows.

Finally, in the evening, Tony parked his car in front of Peter’s building, turning to look at him with an almost pained smile, before leaning in for a kiss.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Peter whispered against his mouth and felt when Tony’s lips stretched into a small smile. He pulled away a little, just enough to look into his eyes, and cupped his chin in his hand.

“I’ll miss you too, but I won’t be long, ok? It’s just a few days.” He pecked Peter’s lips one more time for good measure and the younger man nodded.

“Call me if you have time.”

“Of course, kitten, every day.” He leaned in for another kiss, this one longer than the previous, and Peter’s heart fluttered. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out, containing the urge to say those three words that had been trapped in the back of his throat for weeks.

“Have a safe trip. Let me know when you land.”

“I will, baby.”

Peter got out of the car and waved, watching as it disappeared down the street. He sighed and his heart ached, he already missed Tony and it had only been a few seconds, how was he going to survive fifteen whole days? It seemed impossible. It was crazy to think how far they had come since March, when they talked for the first time. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

He turned to go inside, but froze in place when he heard a familiar voice.

“So that’s why you’ve been ignoring me, huh? How rude.” He turned slowly to the left, only to be met with Beck’s cocky, arrogant smile, just a few feet away from him. “I tried calling, I tried texting, you’ve blocked me everywhere, I can’t even e-mail you anymore, it appears.” Beck walked slowly and leaned against the rails of the stairs to Peter’s building and the younger man curled his hands in fists, trying to control the urge to just run. “Long time no see, Petey-pie.”

He was paralyzed, muscles rigid, but to his own surprise, it wasn’t fear that he felt, or sadness. It was pure anger.

“I wonder why,” he answered quietly, but firmly. Beck’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, before the smile was back in place. “How did you find me?” He demanded, because Beck had never cared to ask where Peter was going to stay after he kicked him out, so how in the hell would he know where to find him?

“Wasn’t easy, I have been following you on Instagram, some of your morning run routes seemed familiar, so I–”

“You stalked me?” He frowned, taking a step closer to the other man, who looked at Peter with indignation and hurt. He shook his head, softened those baby blue eyes and placed one hand over his chest, right above where his heart would have been if he had one.

“I just wanted to see you, is all.” He shrugged, dropping his gaze to stare at his own feet, and Peter wanted to roll his eyes. It was so weird watching his whole act now that the spell had been lifted.

“What do you want?” He asked, making the older man’s head snap back up, a little surprised by his cold tone.

“I just told you, I wanted to see you. I missed you.” He took a few steps towards Peter, who in turn walked backwards to keep his distance

“You missed me?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “Where’s your new boy-toy, you put him away so you could come play with me?” He cocked his head to the side and, for a moment, he could see the shock crossing his features.

“Pete… Why are you acting like this, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore...” His voice broke and he looked away, pretending to wipe away a tear. He wondered how the hell he used to fall for that.

“You don’t, Quentin. I’m not a lost little boy anymore, you should go back to your boyfriend. Or is he smarter than me and dumped you already? Is that what this is all about?” He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, and Beck’s mouth hung open like he couldn’t believe his words.

“I made a mistake, Pete. After so many years, I took you for granted, I couldn’t see what I saw the first time I met you. I couldn’t see how beautiful you were, how caring and loving you were, how loyal and reliable and – I don’t know, I was blind. I was so stupid, I shouldn’t have left you.” His eyes were wide, earnest, shining with unshed tears. His face was open, even his body language screamed honesty. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so bad about falling for his act – Beck was good. “Don’t you miss me, baby? Don’t you miss us?”

Peter snorted, shaking his head, he couldn’t believe the nerve of that man.

“You made a mistake, huh? So you dumped your new boy, right? If I were to go home with you right now, he wouldn’t be there, waiting for you, like a fucking plan B, in case this doesn’t go your way. Right?” It was his turn to take a few steps towards the older man. “Like I was your plan B while you waited for him to turn 18?”

“Peter, c’mon–“

“Is he there, Beck? Just answer me that. Come on, if he’s not, I’ll take you back right now, we can go home together.” He insisted, looking into the older man’s eyes, but he didn’t say anything, he just sighed. “Of course he is. If I said yes, what would you do? Tell him to pack his things in the middle of the night and leave? Would you keep all the money he’s made you and tell him to fuck off? Would you leave him broke and lonely and fucking lost in this world? Would you tell him that he wasn’t good enough and dispose of him like he’s fucking garbage?” His voice grew louder and louder, and when he came to himself, he noticed he was in Beck’s face, their chests almost touching, so he took a step back. “So to answer your question, Quentin, no, I don’t fucking miss you. You fucking ruined me!”

“I saved you!” And just like that, the good guy act was gone. His whole demeanor changed, the soft baby blues widened, his mouth was set in a sneer, he puffed out his chest to intimidate him, but Peter stood his ground. “Don’t pretend you don’t remember who you were before me. You were a fucking loser! An orphan, no family, no friends, no future! I took you in, I took care of you, I gave you a profession – don’t fucking roll your eyes, what the fuck are you doing now, huh? Rocket science? ‘Cause it seems to me like you’re still doing porn, and now you’re clearly branching out into prostitution, would you look at that!”

“You have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!” He placed his hands on the man’s chest and pushed him away when he got too fucking close for comfort. He held his breath when he realized what he had done, afraid of the man’s reaction, but he just kept his distance.

“You know what? Fuck you, Peter. I was wrong about you, I thought I knew who you were, I thought I missed you, but you’re just a disgusting fucking whore, after all. You’re a dirty little bitch in heat who likes to get this loose hole of yours fucked by old perverts, I don’t know why I’m surprised, I mean, that’s why I dumped you, you were enjoying those videos a little bit too much for my taste. You weren’t even satisfied with two cocks up your ass, one in your mouth and a line of men waiting to fuck you. You disgust me.” He started walking away, and Peter wanted to say something, he wanted to yell at him and defend himself, he wanted to tell him he didn’t fucking enjoy it, he wanted to tell him that it was all his fault, he threw him to the lions, he let those men fucking–

Fuck!

He rushed inside the building and ran upstairs, eyes clouded with tears. He tripped and fell knees first on the steps, but he didn’t even feel pain, he just got up and kept going, kept running, trying to put as much distance between him and Beck as he could, even though it was irrational. Beck was gone, he walked away, he left him, he left him again, he wasn’t coming back–

“Ned?!” He knocked urgently on his friends’ door. He didn’t have his spare key, it was upstairs in his own apartment, but he couldn’t trust himself to go all the way up there and down again without having a full on panic attack. “MJ?! Are you guys home?!” He was really trying not to sound too desperate, he didn’t want to scare them, but it was hard controlling his emotions when his heart was hammering against his chest and he couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Peter?” It was MJ who yanked the door open. She had a towel wrapped around her torso, her hair was wet, and Peter felt guilty, but she took one look at him and quickly pulled him into a hug. “My God, Peter...” She whispered into his hair when he started sobbing uncontrollably on her naked shoulder. “Come on in, c’mon.” He heard the door closing behind him, but he didn’t let go of her, he felt like if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together.

He wanted to tell her not to worry, that she should go finish her shower and change, but he really, really needed her right then. She sat down on the couch, pulling him with her and he promptly laid down, burying his face in her legs. He couldn’t stop crying and sobbing and no matter how many times she asked him what was wrong, sounding increasingly more worried, he couldn’t get his feelings under control enough to give her any answer.

He was there for what felt like hours, when at some point someone lifted him from MJ’s lap and enveloped him in such a tight hug he couldn’t breath for a second, but he sighed in relief, it was right what he needed. Ned’s arms felt like home, it calmed him down almost instantly – his voice whispering that it was fine, everything was going to be okay helped a lot, too.

“I hate him, I hate him so fucking much,” he mumbled into his shoulder, God knew how much time later, and his friend just hummed, patting his back. “I hate that he made a mess of me and I let him.” He couldn’t hold back more tears when he said that, because it was true, it was so fucking true. He let Beck do whatever he wanted to him, he let him ruin his dreams, his future, his fucking personality, until he was nothing but a shell of what he used to be.

“I know, Peter, I know,” Ned soothed him, rubbing his back, even though he probably had no idea what he was talking about. “It’s okay now. You’re okay. It’s over”

“I made tea.” MJ’s quiet voice sounded somewhere from his right and when he turned to look at her, she was already dressed, wet hair up in a bun, with a mug in her hands, which she extended to him. He accepted it but didn’t dare to take a sip, he was positive that if he did, he would throw up, his stomach was all kinds of fucked up at that moment. “Peter, what happened? Did Star – uh, did your boyfriend do something? Did he hurt? ‘Cause I swear to God–” Just the mention of Tony being the cause of his distress made him sick, so he cut her off.

“Beck was here.” He sniffed, looking at the mug to avoid their eyes when he heard both of them gasping.

“Beck? Beck was here? Fucking Beck?” MJ screeched and he nodded.

“He was waiting for me outside.” He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gather enough energy to have that conversation.

“What did he want?” Ned asked calmly, while MJ paced the floor, furious.

“I don’t know...” He shrugged, wrecking his brain to try and figure out what his motive was. “His channel got taken down a few weeks ago and he couldn’t get it back up. I heard he had to start over.” He hadn’t been watching that closely, but he knew something was wrong, even his Twitter and Instagram accounts kept getting taken down almost monthly, it was impossible he was making any money over the past few months. “He said he wanted to get back together, probably because he thinks us making up would be a big hit or whatever. I said no, of course. He didn’t like the answer.”

“Did he hurt you?!” MJ strode back to him until she was standing right in front of him, looking into his eyes. He was almost intimidated by her.

“No, he just… Said some pretty shitty things, is all,” he answered sheepishly, because he hated that that man could still make a mess of him with just a few hurtful words.

“Oh, dude. He’s just mad he’s lost control over you. Whatever he said, he just wanted to hurt you, it doesn’t mean anything.” Ned placed an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Peter rested his head against his, sighing.

“I know. He was always like that, you know,” he whispered, as flashes of memories crossed his mind. “When I didn’t bend to his wishes, when I didn’t do things his way, he fucking–“ He squeezed his eyes shut, furious, because he had fallen for that again. “He tries to charm me and when it doesn’t work, he attacks me. But the thing is, he really knows what to say to destroy me. It just sucks. But it’s fine. I just need a moment, I’ll be fine.” He sat up straight and looked both of his friends in the eyes.

“Yes, you will. You most certainly will.” Ned patted his shoulder one last time, getting up from the couch. “Why don’t you lie down for a second, huh? I’m making dinner, I’ll even try one of those recipes your mystery boyfriend taught you.” Just the mention of Tony made him breathe a little easier, even though he wouldn’t be able to see him for a while.

“Okay.” He nodded, smiling softly. MJ took Ned’s place on the couch and he lay down, placing his head on her legs, as she ran her fingers through his hair. He sighed contently and closed his eyes, feeling exhausted. He was close to drifting off when he heard Ned gasp.

“Oh my God,” He breathed quietly from the kitchen and both Peter and MJ looked at him curiously from over the back of the couch.

“What?” She didn’t look too worried, but Peter was concerned about how pale he was.

“Ned, what’s wrong?” He frowned, watching Ned’s horrified expression looking at his phone like it was a murder scene. He raised his eyes and gulped.

“Peter is trending on Twitter,” he whispered, after a while.

“What?!” They both hurried over to the kitchen counter, and the first thing Peter saw when he looked at his phone was a picture of him and Tony in his car, kissing. As Ned scrolled down, more pictures showed up, but not only that, clips of his old videos were all over Twitter, people knew his full name, his real name, and they were making all sorts of comments. Iron Man, Tony Stark, Peter Parker, sex worker, prostitute and porn were trending.

The room was completely silent for a whole minute, before MJ turned on the TV.

“… appear that Tony Stark, former CEO of Stark Industries and retired Avenger, was seen kissing a young man in his car earlier this evening. The person in the pictures seems to be one Peter Parker, a twenty-one year old porn actor, who is also said to work as a prostitute…”

Peter’s heart sank to the bottom of his stomach, his vision blurred and he felt bile rising in his throat. He took a deep breath and got up from the couch, ears ringing, as he rushed to the front door. He heard his friends yelling something, but he couldn’t make out their words, and he just couldn’t deal with all that right then and there.

“I, uhm, I gotta go,” he called from over his shoulder, slamming the door shut on his way out.

As he ran upstairs, vision blurred by tears and chest hurting, begging for oxygen, he couldn’t help but remember his life fell apart in the winter. And fall would be over soon.

-x-

So... It appears that someone has lost the ability to write short chapters...

Anyways, only three more chapters to go! 🥳

Tag list (please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed from the list): @sadachmesarthim @iamnotparticularlyproud @staticwhispersinthedark @bluestarker @ whyisthisathingcb

#starker #peter parker x tony stark

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kodzukenscorner · 4 years

Text

Ushijima, Sakusa, and Osamu with a doctor S/O (NSFW)

anon asked: Heyyy, May I request some headcanons (or maybe some nsfw ones too hehe) of Ushijima, Sakusa & Osamu with a doctor! reader?? They both have pretty busy schedules so I’m quite curious of that’ll turn out. Thank you :)

a/n: not spell checked so let’s hope it’s okay lmao

wc: 1,497

✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶

Ushijima

Ushijima actually doesn’t mind your hectic schedules, he respects your work and knows you’re a busy person doing important things

He’s fairly low maintenance and is just happy that he can come home with you and spend time together

But it’s gotten to a point where you’re working later and later and by the time you get home, he’s already asleep

And when he leaves for his morning practice, you’re peacefully passed out in bed so he doesn’t disturb you

All the time apart has been getting to him though and he missed you more than he was willing to admit

He took a day off of practice when he knew you also had the day off and planned to spend the whole day with you

But when he woke up that morning and you weren’t next to him he was confused

He found you in the kitchen hunched over piles of paperwork surrounding you

He tried to get your attention but you told him you had a mountain of paperwork to deal with and that you’d be free later

That was not enough for him

He closed one of the files you were looking at and you looked up at him in confusion

“Will anyone die if you don’t do this paperwork right now?”

“Well...no”

With that, Ushijima kneeled down between your legs while you sat there staring at him

“Then it can wait. Let’s have some breakfast”

You smiled at him and nodded

Just as you were about to stand up he grabbed your hips and kept you planted in the chair

The look of surprise on your face only increased when he pulled down your pajama pants and underwear swiftly

You voice caught in your throat but a loud moan erupted form you when you felt him teasingly lick between your folds

He looked up at you and silently asked if this was alright, you responded by grabbing his hair and bringing his head back down between your legs

He dove his tongue into your already dripping core and you threw your head back in pleasure

He moved his lips to your clit and began circling it with his tongue

He harshly sucked on it while two fingers slipped back into you

Your grip on his hair tightened while you felt your thighs begin to shake and you tried to warn him as you felt your orgasm coming on

“Ah..I-I’m going to cum”

He nibbled lightly on your clit while his fingers curled inside of you and that sent you over the edge, coming in a wave of pleasure

After licking up every last bit of you he stood up and kissed your neck softly

You chuckled as he nuzzled into you

“I missed you too”

Sakusa

This man really loves your career and is extremely respectful and proud of you

He is also very hyped that you’re a healthy, hygienic person

It’s a lowkey turn on for him to know that you’re always clean and healthy

And if either of you ever gets sick, he knows that you’re in good hands

He’s also someone who is more low maintenance in a relationship and doesn’t mind your busy schedule too much

But again, he is a normal person who needs affection so when your hectic schedules get the best of you, he starts getting needy

At most the two of you will get to eat dinner together but he’s been wanting more

One day he came back from his practice earlier than usual, in an attempt to spend more time with you

He walked in the door, setting his gym bag down and peeked into the kitchen and living room and found no sight of you

Your shoes were by the door so he knew you were home

As he got closer to the bedroom he noticed the light to the bathroom was on and he could smell some light bath salts and he immediately perked up

Wasting no time at all, he snuck into the bathroom and slipped off all his clothes before joining you in the tub

He snaked his arms around your waist from behind and you leaned back against his chest

“Long day?” He asked as he lightly kissed your jawline

You nodded and closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his kisses and the warm water surrounding both of you

“I know just how to make you feel better”

Before you realized it he was pulling you closer to his lap and slipping his dick into you

You let out a soft sigh as you felt him stretching you out

When he bottomed out you let out a little whimper and squirmed in his lap but his hands were secure around your waist

“Omi, it’s- ah too much, too big” You whined at the sudden feeling of being full

He rubbed your thighs and carefully lifted you halfway off his dick before bringing you right back down

You moaned loudly and it bounced off the bathroom walls

“See? I knew you could take it all like a good girl”

He sucked dark spots onto your neck and shoulder as you continued to bounce up and down on him

When he felt your walls get impossibly tighter he moved one of his hands down to toy with your clit

“Go ahead and cum for me”

Your high washed over you as Sakusa’s name fell from your lips like a prayer

He was quick to follow, pulling you back down firmly in his lap before releasing into you

You both sat there for a moment, enjoying each other’s company, not wanting to move

“I love you”

You’re not sure which of you said it first

Osamu

Osamu is a bit more needy in a relationship compared to the other two

He’s not someone who needs to be with you 24/7 but he greatly loves and appreciates the domesticity of just getting to spend the day with you

But he knows you have important work to do, and honestly he’s only been getting busier and busier as he his business takes off

He knew you had been having a long and rough week so he decided to surprise you with some warm, homemade lunch

He stopped by the hospital you worked at and managed to track you down while you were busy roaming the halls

You were stopped by a room, reading information off a clipboard when he came up behind you and pecked your cheek

You turned around in surprise but broke out into a smile when you saw Osamu

You asked what he was doing there and he held up the bento he had packed for you

You looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world and put down the clipboard you were holding

You reached up to wrap your arms around his neck and brought him into a sensual kiss

He was quick to move his hands to your waist to bring you closer to him

Soon the kiss got deeper and more heated and you were panting as you pulled away

“What’s that?” Osamu pointed at a door down the hall

“Storage closet” You responded, already leaning in for another kiss

But Osamu was grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the closet

Once inside, he placed the bento down on a shelf and locked the door behind you

He had you pinned up against the door attacking your lips in another feverish kiss

He shoved down the scrubs you were wearing along with your panties

Kicking them off, you quickly jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around him

You fumbled with his belt, all the while your lips never leaving his

Before you knew it, you felt the tip of his already leaking dick poking at your entrance

“I missed you so much” You whispered as slid into your slick folds

“I missed you too” He managed to say between his groans

He set an unrelenting pace, knowing you didn’t have much time to spare

You were doing your best to stifle your moans by burying your face into his shoulder

He continued pounding into you and you knew there would be bruises on your back from how hard you were hitting the wall

You could feel his dick twitch inside of you and you knew he was close so you brought a hand down to flick your clit

The two of you came together, unraveling in each other’s arms

He set you down once you managed to catch your breath but your legs still felt like jelly

He bent down to help you put your underwear and pants back on

He kissed your inner thigh, watching as his cum dripped from your abused pussy

“Think you’ll be able to run around for the rest of your shift?” He chuckled as he stood back up

You groaned as you hug him once more

“Perfect, just what my patients need, a limping doctor”

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #haikyuu writing #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi #hq ushijima #ushijima x reader #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #hq sakusa #sakusa x reader #osamu #miya osamu #osamu x reader #hq osamu

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shini--chan · 4 years

Text

Yandere England HCs

I remember somewhere around here in my inbox somebody requested yandere England hcs. If I recall correctly, there handle was @hehehhewaitwhat Sadly, the ask has vanished from the box, but I still recall receiving it! So here you go:

Yandere England

Arthur would be one of the yanderes that would play it cool at first. No cool isn’t the right word – it is cold. He would believe in keeping a tight control on his emotions, least they take over him and he is no longer his own master. All in all, a very good idea, it is just the matter of execution that matters – Arthur would be doing this in a very unhealthy way. He’d bottle up his feeling on a large part, refusing to analysis them and locate the source, not to mention expressing his emotions in healthy ways. And here would be where the yandere tendencies start to blossom.

It would result in all his ignored and unacknowledged feelings for you start to seep through in the most eery ways, ways that would be borderline toxic. What could have potentially been love would become twisted and wrapped, some of Arthur’s other issues just amplifying this. In the end, he wouldn’t be able to prevent himself from either manipulating you into his web, or outright kidnapping you.

The insistent burning in his veins never ceased, rather it grew even worse when you weren’t close to him. It was magma rolling in his veins, eradicating even more of his rational thoughts the longer he attempted to ignore it.

In an attempt to remedy it, Arthur turned the water in the shower to ice-cold. A mistake on his part. It had gave a sharp contrast and thus made the concoction of emotions stand out all the sharper. It made him wonder if the only cure would be to give into them and let nature take its course.

Yet that was something he couldn’t allow. Emotions were the leftovers of a primordial past – notions that didn’t follow any logic or decency. If they weren’t controlled, then they would control.

He turned his face up to the stream of water, as if it could wash away all the sinful thoughts about you that had begun to haunt him. That was a tragedy on its own – he never could be rid of you. You would come to haunt his dreams uninvited, invade his thoughts unwelcomed. He remembered when his interest in you had just been a mere sapling. Now it was a field of weeds, a contagion that was completely out of his control and still demanded his attention.

He shouldn’t have ignored his love when it had started to sprout, for now it had turned into obsession.

Of course, he’ll try the former way first before anything else – he would know that you wouldn’t really appreciate it if he abducted you. England would turn the charm on and boy, can he be charming when he wants to be. It wouldn’t be in grand, over the top gestures – that is for amateurs. It would come in small, effective gestures that would become bigger over time – freshly picked flowers from his garden, biscuits he made himself and then he would go over to bigger presents like a dinner in a fancy restaurant. His aim would be to have you completely smittened before he would start to cut you off from the rest of the world and to mould you into what constitutes for a perfect person.

It was a fine day; the sun painting the sky in a kaleidoscope of warm colours and caused the green of the hills to become so saturated. Or maybe it was because you were in love that the world was all the more vivid, that the air smelled sweeter and the arm that was curled around your waist felt so right.

Arthur was being charming, a good-natured smile making his sharp features softer. He had taken you out to dinner tonight, a brief affair at a rustic inn out in a no-name little village. Yet the simple meal had been the best you had had in a long time.

So, with a full stomach in satisfaction in your heart, Arthur was accompanying you back home on this summer’s evening.

“My dear, that was a very wonderful day with you”, he remarked warmly, echoing your thoughts.

“Yes, it was. You couldn’t have picked a better place to go out. I would like to do such a thing again.”

He chuckled lowly at your affirmation. “Oh, love. I wouldn’t mind doing that every day with you for the rest of our lives.”

Under other circumstances, if you weren’t so smittened with him, you would realise that what he had said couldn’t be right. Good days can’t be copy-pasted on the future forever, happiness can’t be played constantly on repeat. It has to be experienced, the cause ever varied and reinvented so that it doesn’t become dull.

Yet you weren’t not in love with him. You were neither alarmed by the clinginess the statement implied or by how sappy it was. And that was exactly what Arthur wanted.

To be clear, he wouldn’t want a weak, stupid lover. There would be nothing more off-putting to him than a whiny, spineless idiot who can’t do anything on their own. In that way, you could say he’d have high standards. He’d want somebody who is a challenge, you’d be tactful in their conduct and somebody who’d have wit to match his. Arthur has a sharp tongue and even with you he wouldn’t shy away from dispensing chidings and sharp remarks. He’d also demand you have a spine of steel, that you wouldn’t simply cave in the face of danger. If you wouldn’t have these qualities, then you’d have to adopt them, and he would be never uncompromising about that.

Ironically, while he would manipulate you into having these qualities, he wouldn’t tolerate you having them to the extent would make your relationship impossible. He wouldn’t want to be taken care of in the terms of you being the breadwinner, doing business and all that. He would want to fulfil that roles for you, whether you’re a woman or a man. It would be a chronic need to provide for you, to be the dominate one in the relationship.

You sighed for the untempt time this afternoon. No matter how much you read the page of the book, the meaning of the passages eluded you. At this point, you only had a gist of what was going on and it frustrated you to no end.

Carefully, you placed a bookmark on the page that you had been busy with and closed the hard-cover novel quietly. You knew all to well that one of the easiest ways to get Arthur in a hissy fit was to maltreat one of his books. He claimed that books had to be treated with respect, because somebody had once put a lot of effort and time into writing it. A disrespect to the book was therefore an indirect disrespect to the author.

You leaned back in your chair and stared up at the decorations of the room. Arthur of course had to live in a mansion that seemingly was a time capsule for the age of Empire. Talk about being attracted to the glorious old days.

Carding your fingers through your hair, you cursed yourself. When did you get the brilliant idea to study the classics? Oh yes, it was when Arthur mentioned the benefits of higher literature while the two you had been cleaning. He had claimed that the complex characters made the reader better at socializing, at understanding that even the most despicable characters had softer sides. That it made a person for eloquent and at understanding the nuances of reality.

And of course, since you were constantly seeking to improve yourself, you had asked him if you could peruse his library. Arthur had whole-heartedly encouraged you and you knew that he would be extremely disappointed if you abandoned this chance to grow.

So, you opened the book again and reassumed the torture.

The need for dominance would be a manifestation for Arthur’s addiction to be in control. He is sort of the opinion that power is best left in his hands, and that nobody except him can properly wield it. And if he’d have the feeling that his control over would be slipping, then he would lash out. The most physical he’d get with his punishments would be caning. All in all, punishments would always be along the lines of what detention looked like in the old public schools during the Empire.

He would also have a certain image of what intelligent would look like. That would mean restrictions in your activities: no comics, no cartoons, no fizzy drinks, god have mercy on you is you have an addiction because he would have none, he says which parties you’re allowed to go to (that would be more in the beginning of the relationship), no sleeping in, no being lazy. And if you wouldn’t conform, then he’d manipulate you into doing so.

Arthur is a man who would quickly become jealous. He’d be scared if you’d be plotting to leave him, or worse, rope other’s in into helping you plunge a knife in his back. So, he would be quick to convincing you to cut of contact with people that he wouldn’t like. This would be a win-win situation for him because the less social contact you’d have beside him, the deeper your bond with him would become. Further on in your relationship, he’d convince you to rely solely on him and that other people wouldn’t be trustworthy. That he’d be the only person that would ever truly understand you, that would have your best interests at heart, that would help you grow into the best person you could be. That the world is a shit place and that you should be grateful that he is there to shield you from it. In order to encourage that last one, he would allow you to watch the news, extensively.

If wooing you into being with him wouldn’t work, then he would coerce you into a relationship. However, he wouldn’t do anything drastic such as threatening your loved ones, rather the threats would be hidden, or he would present himself as the best option of getting you out a ditch (such as financial issues). He’d try his best to construct the situation so that you would be inclined to trick yourself into thinking you wanted it. Kidnapping would be a last resort for him.

#yandere hetalia #yandere england #yandere headcanons #yandere hetalia x reader #x reader

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apoguecalledjj · 4 years

Text

You’re Safe With Me

Summary: After being in an unhealthy relationship with Rafe, you find it hard to recover in a healthy relationship with JJ.

Word count: 1959

Pairing: JJ x reader

TW: Talk of an abusive relationship, implications of sexual assault. Please, contact someone or reach out for help if you are experiencing either of these things and do not read further if this is something that may trigger you. If I’ve forgotten any triggers, please don’t hesitate to let me know.

Requested: No

Before dating JJ, you had been in quite an unhealthy relationship with Rafe Cameron. It took a huge toll on you, and you were still recovering from it. JJ knew this and was always extremely gentle and careful with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stared at yourself in the mirror, not sure if the dress was okay for your date. It was pretty, but it was slightly low cut and shorter then what you would normally wear.

You turned around to pick another dress from the closet, but noticed JJ stood in the doorway, eyeing you up and down. "Damn." He said, his eyes coming up again to meet yours.

"I'm so sorry baby I was just about to change, I know it's too revealing I would nev-"

JJ walked across the room and cut you off with a kiss. "God, angel, no. Please wear this dress. It's not too revealing." He stepped back to take you in again. Pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, he continued. "You're beautiful, angel. Plus I don't care what you wear. You can always wear whatever you want, I trust you and that's all that matters."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You smiled down at your phone, Kiara had just sent you a meme that you thought was super funny. JJ glanced up from where he was sat across from you. "Whatcha smiling at?"

Your heart dropped. He was gonna get mad, you knew it, he was going to think you were cheating on him and break up with him.

Tears started to well in your eyes as you locked the phone and put it down. "It was just Kiara I swear JJ. She sent me something funny. I'd never cheat on you." You started to slightly shake.

JJ rushed across the room to sit by you. "Y/N." He grabbed your hand. "I know you'd never cheat. I believe you. Please don't cry." He pulled you into his arms and held you as you slowly began to sob.

"I'm so sorry I'm like this," You choked out. "It's just that Rafe used to get so mad and I don't want to let you down."

"Hey!" JJ pulled back to look you in the eyes. "I'm not Rafe. Okay? I'm not him. And what he did to you, that's not okay. That shouldn't be your normal. You shouldn't be used to it. I'm never going to hurt you like he did, angel. I'm never going to hurt you."

He pulled you down on the couch, and you fell asleep there next to him, listening to his heartbeat as he played with your hair.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The six of you were sat around, just laughing and enjoying the beautiful weather. Sarah was sat on John B's lap, laughing at something he said, and Kiara was laid across the couch with her head in Pope's lap.

JJ started to bring his hand up towards your face, and you flinched on instinct. From the look on his face, you could tell he had noticed, you just hoped the others hadn't.

Looking at Sarah and John B, you could tell by their faces they had. "I fucking hate my brother." She said, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping the chair.

Pope looked up from where he was playing with Kie's hair. "What happened?"

JJ stood up quickly and reached his hand out to you. "Nothing." He glanced at you, guessing that you wouldn't want everyone to know. "We're going for a walk, be back in a bit."

He grabbed your hand as you fiddled with the sleeves of his grey sweatshirt that you were wearing. You were only just out of the gang's side when he stopped you and turned you to face him.

"Y/N, did Rafe hit you?"

You sighed. You had told JJ that your relationship with Rafe was unhealthy and controlling, but you had never gone into the details, especially not the physical aspect.

JJ didn't need an answer, he could tell by the look on your face. "Fucking hell, I'm gonna kill that fucking kook." He was getting angrier the more he thought about it.

"Babe." You said shakily. "Please calm down. Just hug me. Please."

JJ pulled you in close to him, and you inhaled his scent that you loved. "I'm sorry angel. I didn't mean to scare you. I just hate the thought of you being hurt." He kissed the top of your head. "But you're okay now. I will never, ever, ever lay my hands on you. I promise."

You two staying like that for a while, just swaying back and forth on the beach. JJ made you feel safe, and that was all that mattered in the world.

You guys slowly made your way back to the group. “Are you okay?” Sarah asked as soon as you sat back down.

“Yeah I’m okay.” You looked around, everyone’s eyes were on you. JJ squeezed your hand. “Rafe wasn’t a great boyfriend, and it’s taking me a while to get over it.”

“You’re gonna be okay, Y/N.” Pope smiled at you. “We’re all here for you, and no one’s gonna hurt you.”

You smiled at him. “Thanks, Pope. I appreciate it. Now can we stop talking about it? I just want to enjoy today.”

JJ wrapped his arms around you. “Hey Kie!” He called out. “I want my joint back!” Everything was back to normal, and you smiled and leaned back into JJ.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey babe?" You looked up from your phone at JJ. You were slowly becoming more and more comfortable in your relationship. "Is it okay if I go surfing with Sarah and Kie?"

He looked up at you, but before he even got a chance to respond you continued. "It'll just be us girls, and if any guys show up I promise to leave."

He chuckled and shook his head. "You don't need my permission angel. Of course you can go with the girls."

You stood up, smiling. You should have known JJ wouldn't care, but you still found the need to check with him just to make sure. So he wouldn't have a reason to get mad at you.

You opened your drawer, looking for a bikini to wear. JJ came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "Wear that one." He pointed at a yellow one.

"It's a bit revealing." You bit your lip. You had bought that bikini a while ago, but Rafe had never let you wear it.

"Wear it. Bet you'll look hot in it." He murmured into your ear.

You went to the bathroom and quickly put on the bikini. You liked it, but you were scared about how JJ would react.

"Damn. I was right!" JJ smirked as you walked out. "You look good angel." He followed you to the door, and you grabbed one of his t-shirts on the way to throw on over top.

Before you left, he kissed you, pulling you in tight. "Have fun. I love you."

"I love you more than anything." You whispered back. And you really did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JJ leaned down over you, gently biting on your lip as he made out with you. Your breathing quickened, and you struggled to kiss him back.

You guys had slept together before, but you weren't in the mood tonight. It was obvious he was though, and you didn't want to stop him.

JJ could tell something was up though and pulled away. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." You tried to smile, but you knew it looked forced.

JJ moved to lie down next to you, and turned you so you were facing him. "No you're not. What's wrong?"

You couldn't look him in the eyes. "I'm not in the mood... But it's okay. I know you are. Let's just keep going."

JJ gave you a weird look as you leaned forward to continue kissing him. "No angel." He pulled back. "If you're not in the mood we stop."

"But you are, and it's my job to help you." You muttered, still not able to look him in the eyes.

He looked at you in confusion. "Is that what Rafe said?" All you could do was nod, and he sighed. "That's not true Y/N. You're here because I love you, not so you can get me off. And you should never have to do anything you don't want to. I would never force you. I've said it before and I'll keep saying it until the day I die, you are safe with me angel."

He pulled you in close and you snuggled into his chest. This relationship was different than anything you had known before, it was healthy and loving. You were happy, and you could finally relax.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were finally comfortable in your relationship with JJ, and that just made him more loving than ever. He was constantly kissing you and telling you how much he loved you.

You guys were currently sat on John B’s porch, joking around and laughing. Everyone was there, and you felt truly happy. Sarah, Kiara, and Pope were tossing around a rock, John B was laid on the floor, and JJ was next to you, smoking a joint with his arm lazily hung over your shoulder.

You brought a hand up to shield your eyes, glancing towards the beach. It looked like someone was walking up towards the house, which was weird because everyone that usually came to John B’s was here.

“Hey John B, are you expecting someone?” He sat up and shook his head.

JJ looked up from playing with his lighter. “Oh fuck that’s Rafe.” He stood up. “Y/N, get in the house.”

You tried to protest, but Sarah and Kiara had already rushed over and pushed you inside. “I just wanna fucking talk to her!” You heard Rafe yell.

You tried to turn but Kie grabbed you. Tears were brimming in your eyes and you could hear the guys yelling. “He’s gonna hurt JJ!” You sobbed out, but the girls wouldn’t let you leave. Sarah held you tight as you struggled, panicking and sobbing as you heard more and more bangs from outside.

Only a couple minutes later, JJ burst through the door, John B and Pope not far behind. His lip was bleeding and Pope was beginning to get a black eye, but you couldn’t see any other injuries.

You were still sobbing as he started to yell. “That fucking kook! One these days I’m gonna kill him, and I won’t regret it I swear...” He only stopped once John B turned him to face you.

“Oh fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Oh, angel I’m so sorry. We got rid of him, I promise. He won’t be trying to bother you anymore.” You stood up from Sarah and pulled him into a hug, still shaking a bit.

You reached up to wipe the blood from his lip. “He hurt you.” You whispered.

“Oh it’s okay. You should have seen him.” He looked down at you, eyes full of concern, your eyes still filled with tears.

“I hope he doesn’t come back.” You whispered. You hadn’t seen Rafe for months, and seeing him had hit you harder than you expected. Everything had come rushing back to you, and you couldn’t help but worry he was going to come back.

“You’re safe with me,” JJ said, noticing your tears and holding you tighter. He could tell you were still nervous.

“You’re safe with us, Y/N.” John B added, and before you knew it you were engulfed in a group hug. An amazing boyfriend, and an amazing group of friends. You knew you were finally safe, and you smiled into JJ’s chest.

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