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frmisnow · 4 months ago

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BORDEAUX !

summary. after you realize that the man you had a drunk one night stand with, was in fact your new ceo. you settle on avoiding him as best as you could- but why do you feel so drawn to him?

notes. welcome to a new verse (aka. series), usually most of my series are more fluffy w a touch of smut (besides two whores, one job lol) but this one is gonna be a lot more angsty and smutty! so i hope y'all are into that kinda jam 🍷⭒⋆｡˚

warnings /includes. (1.7 k words / suggestive!) non idol! ceo! jungkook x non specified! reader, alcohol, shitty ex :/, jk is an alcohol nerd?, reader kind of uses him to kill bad memories ?, making out

the air was heavy with the scent of alcohol and smoke melted with the faint music somewhere in the background: jazz, how unfitting for this kind of environment. the enviornment which people go to specifically to escape reality, for a few minutes, maybe a few hours.

the alcohol wasn't bad, at least judging by the wine and it offered a sense of peace or rebellion, stupid fucking rebellion. your ex used to despise wine with all of his heart, he hated the scent of it, didn't want you to drink any of it near him.

he didn't like when you drank alcohol over all, he was stern on the idea of keeping you innoccent. you chugged down the glass like a shot at the sheer memory of the behavior you used to put up with.

the glass hits the table with a dull thud and you could almost hear his voice, scolding you for how reckless you were. you reach out for the bottle, pouring yourself another glass. and this time you savor the taste on your tongue, the rich flavor.

you feel eyes burning into your face, no- not burning, observing. it didn't feel uncomfortable but you could firmly feel them on you. the man's presence cut through the fog of alcohol and self-pity that had settled over you, and for a moment, you simply stared.

you should have looked away, but you didn’t. instead, you lifted your glass to your lips, taking another sip of wine, feeling the liquid slide down your throat, heavy and warm. he watched you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes never leaving yours.

he stands up making his way to you, and suddenly the crowd and all the shitty memories fade away, it was almost like he had a bigger effect on you then the alcohol did and that said a lot.

finally, he spoke, his voice low and smooth, like velvet draped over steel. “mind if i join you?”

the question was formal, did he work in business? no, that would be stupid to assume based of just a question. you nod, slowly but surerly, motioning towards the chair next to you.

he takes the seat next to you, signaling for a nearby waiter, requesting another glass, before turning his attention back to you. his gaze is intense and unwavering, as if he’s trying to see straight through to your soul.

“rough night?” he asks, his tone conversational but his eyes still focused intently on you.

his thigh touched yours, the proximity with somebody you didn't know should make you feel uncomfortable but it strangely didn't. "yeah," you mouth. the whole truth was too complicated, too raw, to lay out infront of a stranger.

a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, before he speaks again, his voice was soft, almost soothing. "you're downing that glass like it's water."

you look at the almost empty glass that your fingers had been circling around while talking to him, he was right. you didn't even remember how many glasses you had, three perhaps?

"you have a pretty voice," you mumble, finshing what was left of liquid in the glass.

he raised an eyebrow at the compliment, surprised by the sudden comment from you. he can't help but chuckle a little, amused by the drunken confession. "thank you," he replies, sounding sincere.

you both barerly talked, you were two strangers in a cheap bar, why bother talking about boring jobs? the night was young.

the music in the background shifted, a slower, bluesy tune now. the more you looked at him, the more you could firmly feel his thigh pressed into your own. his fingers, tattooed, why hadn't you noticed that earlier? took the wine bottle from earlier, tilting it around to look at the label. he seemed to know the brand, humming in approval.

"it's a good vintage." he says, still holding the bottle but his eyes are on you, studying your face in the dim light.

and this actually managed to crack a smile out of you. it wasn't meant to be a funny comment, in fact he seemed serious about it. was he an alcohol expert? the fact that you knew absolutly nothing about wine made it better.

he takes a sip from his own glass, his eyes never leaving yours. he can't help but find your lack of knowledge about wine oddly endearing.

please, talk me stupid about alcohol. i want to know what rebellion tastes like. the words linger on your tongue but you don't cave into the urge of saying them. i want you to teach me what he was so afraid of showing me.

"i have a whole collection of rare and expensive wines back at my place. some you would never find even in the best bars," he pauses, his hand brushing slightly against your arm.

"are you trying to make me come home with you?" you ask though it's not a question you necessarily need an answer to, you knew what he had meant.

"and if i was?" his eyes stay on yours, tilting his head, "would you come with me?"

stupid fucking question.

the second you step into his apartment, the door closing behind you, he is already on you. his hands are on your waist, holding you firmly in place as his tongue invades your mouth, tasting the mixture of your saliva and the rich flavor of the wine.

when you both take time to breathe, you ask, "so where is the wine you were talking about?" your tone is clearly intoxicated, your eyes a little hazy as he doesn't let go of you and you both stumble towards his living room together. the action seeming strangely domestic.

"it's right there." his voice a tad bit breathless, he motions towards a large display of alcohol, his eyes scanning the selection before settling on a particular bottle.

he reaches for the bottle, the arm around your waist still keeping you close to him, the alcohol clearly making the both of you more touchier then you would be sober.

jungkook holds up the bottle, letting you get a good look at the label. it was an expensive brand, even you could tell that, the words written on it swirling in an elegant script.

you hum, "italy," leaning into his touch sub counciously whilst he drew little circles over the clothed skin, twisting the bottle, "when did you get this?"

"i have a guy who brings me the good stuff from time to time."

your eyes wandered over the display, you wanted to kneel forward to look over the bottles but didn't want to get out of his embrace either.

it felt good, doing everything your ex would scrutinize you for. he'd be disapproving off even letting you look over all of these.

his head made a little motion towards almost like a silent 'go on' like he could firmly hear your thoughts.

the bottles seemed rare, visably very espensive and whilst you looked over the alcohol, he looked at you.

"what do you think?" he asks after a few minutes, tone soft and quiet like he didn't want to disturb you.

"i think i've had enough to drink already but it's all really pretty," you trail off, "you're really pretty"

jungkook smiles at the comment, reaching forward to run his fingers through your hair, the gesture seemingly absentminded yet surprisingly tender, "is that the alcohol talking?"

you shrug, grinning, "i honestly don't know"

he studies your face for a moment, his eyes roving over your features. he reaches out, his fingers grazing your jawline, the touch light and gentle. "you know, you're very pretty yourself," he says, his voice almost a murmur.

the color of the red wine in your hands is now the exact color of your cheeks and your mind is empty as you lean forward to kiss him once more.

this time when your lips meet, it was rather delicate and slow. as you both sat on the ground next to the large display and kissed eachother like it was the end of the world.

and you don't stop when you felt like you couldn't breathe, placing your hand on his chest, feeling the pulse beneath the shirt. this was what drowning memories was all about.

your ex didn't kiss like this. he didn't hold you like this and he most certaintly will never get the chance to redeem himself ever.

you find yourselves sinking to the floor while jungkook craddles your face as if you were something precious, something worth cherishing.

your ex kissed you just to check of the foreplay box, jungkook kisses you because he wants to.

"i want you," you mumur against his lips as you both take time to breathe.

you wake up to harsh sunlight filtering through the blinds, you realize you're lying on a coach. his coach. the cool leather fabric is a stark contrast to your bare skin, that's when you notice — you’re only in your panties. red lace with little bows.

the rest of your clothes are scattered on the floor, your shirt draped over the armrest, your skirt crumpled beside it.

you try to piece the events of last night together, did you sleep together? ... you can't quite remember. you sit up slowly, your head pounding with the dull throb of a hangover.

jungkook's presence was no where to be found, the apartment was dead quiet. he left you here, naked and confused: what a dick.

you do your best to gather the clothes, slipping into them, you search for your phone, finding it next to the alcohol display. you take another look at the various bottles, now sober.

you shake your head at how easy you were yesterday, checking the time on your phone until your heart drops — the meeting. the meeting you could not afford to miss.

you let out a groan of frustration, fighting the zipper of your skirt, great- you were going to meet your new ceo looking and feeling like a mess.

you step into the large building with your heart still pounding, why did the metro station have to be so far away from your job? running as fast as you can had been your only option.

you push through the glass doors of the conference room, instantly sitting down, you did not want the people to look even more then a second at the wrinkled skirt of yours.

the important man stands facing away from you, writing something down on a white board. he seemed pretty tall, confident posture.

and then he turns around.

your expression drops. it's him. it's the man from last night.

🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd

#🍷⭒⋆｡˚ all kinds of wine! verse #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts fic #jungkook #jungkook fic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #bangtan x you #bangtan x reader #bangtan fic

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megwritesriddles · 2 months ago

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Sweeter Than Fiction ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader / You

Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 7 - Queening / Face-sitting. Spencer meets Reader when she starts working at his local library and he's quickly in over his head. After he goes snooping for information on her online, he finds out a dirty little secret, she writes fanfiction.

Tags: Face-sitting, Oral sex (f receiving), Fantasies, Masturbation, Pining, Friends to lovers, Love confessions, Sub!Spencer, Autistic!Spencer (implied ig?), Both Spencer and Reader are NERDS, Set somewhere between seasons 1-3.

Word count: 4.6k

Read it on ao3! | Masterlist

Authors note: Surprise!! I changed a couple things on my kinktober due to lack of inspiration so here's an unexpected extra Spencer fic!! This is soooo long and the plot is so self-indulgent and ughhh but he eats you out so...!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Spencer had never felt like this before, he hadn’t really had the chance to. Crushes had never really been his thing, having been significantly younger than his peers all throughout his education and being staunchly focused on his career ever since. He had physical attractions here and there, like an occasional reminder that he really was just a fallible human man as much as anyone else, but never any true feelings, nothing he ever wanted to try to pursue in a serious way. It wasn’t simple for him like it was for someone like Morgan, in many senses of the word. Not only was he just not socially skilled enough to pursue relationships, whether casual or otherwise, with any success, he also had a large set of difficulties that he would carry into any relationship. He was quite touch averse, not that he didn’t desperately crave it all the same, which could easily cause issues in any physical relationship. He also had a lot of emotional baggage, from his mother, from his job, from his bullying. He felt a mess emotionally and didn’t see the point in trying to bring in another person to see the mess in all its glory. So he kept to himself. He wasn’t completely without experience, but every experience he’d had was marred with difficulty and complication, none of it ever lasted. He was reasonably content to keep to himself.

Until he met you. He’d been visiting the library nearest his apartment since he moved to D.C. for work. One day he walked in and you were sitting behind the desk, all bright-eyed and excited. The attraction to you had been immediate, he’d found you to be beautiful, he liked the way you dressed, and he liked your sweet voice as you spoke to the customer in front of you. He thought it would end there, that he would silently find you attractive from afar but remained more focused on other things. Cursed to stammer nervously at you whenever you scanned his books, but never say more than necessary. For a long time, that’s all it was, until he was taking out a book that, unbeknownst to him, was a big favourite of yours.

“Oh my goodness, my favourite” you chuckle as you pick up the book from his pile. “This book is amazing, you’ll love it, I’m sure,” you smile brightly as you scan it onto his card. His fingers twitch where he rests them on the edge of the wooden counter. He hadn’t been prepared to talk to you, but it’s nicer than most things that catch him unprepared.

“Y-yeah? Uh… great,” he swallows, drumming his fingers on the counter as you scan the rest of his books, mostly textbooks.

“Well, if you have any taste that is,” you tease. He laughs back stiffly, his mouth feeling dry.

“I uh… like to think I do…” he smiles awkwardly.

“You’ll have to tell me what you thought of it,” you hand him the books and his brain blanks for a moment. You’re inviting him to speak to you some other time, to have an actual conversation. He moves jerkily, taking the books from you and packing them into his satchel. You smile kindly and wave to him as he leaves. “See you soon,”

The way his mind is spinning from that simple conversation, he knows that this is something different. He collapses onto a bench outside the library, taking a deep breath. Why is his heart racing? Is this what butterflies feel like? He rubs a hand through his hair, messing it up. When the anxiety fades away, he’s left with a warm feeling in his chest. You want to speak to him again. He flips open his satchel and pulls out the book you’d said was your favourite. It’s classic literature, something he’s been meaning to read for a long time now, but has somehow never gotten around to. He devours the book in mere minutes, thanks to his impressive reading speed. It’s an amazingly compelling tale, with feminist undertones that were ahead of their time and he feels he understands you just a little better by knowing you like this book. He packs it back into his satchel and stands, heading back into the library. The queue to your desk is a few people long, but he joins it anyway, fiddling with the strap of his bag. You don’t make much small talk with the people in front of him in the line, making it feel all the more special that you’d spoken to him. He reaches the front and you smile, but tilt your head in confusion.

“Forget something?”

“The book was great,” he blurts, and you look even more confused.

“What?”

“The book, the one you said was your favourite, it was phenomenal, and surprisingly progressive for its time! Having those sorts of sentiments about a woman's role in a marriage in the 18th century, while seeming slightly archaic by today's standards, must have caused quite a stir at the time, especially coming from a female author. British law in 1764 actually suggested that women–” he doesn’t realise he’s rambling until you cut him off.

“Hold on, you read it already?” you look disbelieving. He smiles sheepishly. “I only lent it to you, what?” you glance at the clock on your desktop screen. “15 minutes ago,”

“I can read very fast,” he mumbles, looking at the scuff on the toe of his shoe for a moment. You giggle.

“Yeah, clearly,” you study his face. He goes quiet, eyes flickering over the small decorations you had scattered across your desk as a means of personalising your space. “You were saying?” you prompted softly. He looked up at you in wonder, no one had ever requested he resumes an info dump, usually, he was told to shut up and looked weird, but you seemed to wait with genuine interest. Perhaps that was the moment that he was well and truly done for. He steps aside so that the person behind him in the line can get their books scanned. He talks at you for almost a whole hour, getting lost in tangent after tangent as you work. You occasionally pipe in to ask a question or make a comment, but you seem happy to listen. Suddenly, your already beautiful appearance becomes more like that of an angel or a goddess to him. He’s never wanted something so bad in his life. He leaves the library after you excuse yourself for your lunch break. Once he gets home, he sits down on his couch, smiling dopily. Then, it slowly dawns on him that he’d just stood there and rattled on about various topics that he had no clue if you even had any interest in. He buries his face in his hands and groans. Has he already ruined things with the first person he’s ever felt anything genuine for? It was bound to happen eventually, but this soon? He goes to bed miserable that night.

Fortunately, his misery had been for nothing. The next time he visits the library, you’re there, all smiles at him like usual. When he comes to return his previous book haul (yes, maybe he hasn’t used the returns box since you started working here, what of it?), you greet him, asking if he has any more facts for you. At first, he thinks you’re mocking him, but the genuine smile you give tells him otherwise. He scrambles through his mind for something interesting to tell you, feeling less than a genius at this moment. He settles to ask what your favourite animal is, then spends the next several minutes telling you all the nichest information about that animal he could think of. This time, you start to talk too, though instead of spewing facts, you’re telling him personal anecdotes, or about new books the library has got in. The next several times he comes in, you end up talking for long periods of time. You never interrupt him when he rambles and in return he allows you to ramble too, not bothered by the slightest if he has to listen to you for hours. He’d do it happily. Things escalate over time, and he realises the two of you have truly become friends. The thought excites him, as he is closer to the object of his affection, but also because he doesn’t have all that many friends outside of his work. With you, he has somebody to talk books with, and that means the world to him. You text daily, though they’re not particularly long conversations, just whenever something comes up that you think might interest the other. You’d originally given him your email address and he’d explained that he didn’t use email. He felt completely silly, but you’d just shrugged it off and given him your number. Despite that, he still keeps the piece of paper onto which you scrawled your email address, tacked up by his seldom used computer. Just in case.

The team at the BAU tease him relentlessly when they find out about the ‘sweet girl from the library’ that he texts everyday. Any hint of him interacting with a woman, they latch onto like rabid wolves, but when the texts from you keep popping up on his phone now and then for weeks, they absolutely won’t leave it alone. They all know he likes you, even if he’s been very careful to not reveal this fact and they tease him about it. He’s just glad you’re never there to hear it, as he might just die from the embarrassment. One week, while staying back from a case due to a mild cold, he sits in Garcia’s office and watches her work while he does his own. She had insisted he come keep her company, and he hadn’t quite dared to tell her no. He’s scribbling down some notes about the latest crime scene photos they’ve been sent through when Garcia receives a call. It’s Morgan, asking her to run a check on an email address that may potentially belong to an unsub, to see what kind of accounts can be linked to it, and if there’s anything untoward and potentially warrant-worthy. He watches over her shoulder as she types the email address into a program, which spits back out several accounts all over the internet. He rolls his chair over, watching curiously.

“How do you do that? Is it for FBI stuff only?” he asks nervously, twirling a pen around in his fingers. Garcia laughs and glances over her shoulder.

“No, you can find programs to do this in various places online,” she answers, highlighting accounts of potential interest. He nods, still watching over her shoulder, working his lip between his teeth. He tries to convince himself that he’s not going to do it, even as he asks Garcia to write him down one of these websites. She gives him a knowing look but obliges. He keeps telling himself he won’t do it, and that it’s creepy as he gets the train home, but as soon as he’s in his apartment, he heads for his computer and boots it up. He searches up the site that Garcia recommended and tells himself one last time that he isn’t going to do it, before copying your email address into the search field and hitting enter. He waits as the website loads the results, glancing at the door to his apartment as if you’re going to burst in and tell him off. Oh, how he wishes you’d be in his apartment one day, or he at yours. He’s never really wanted to share a space before, but lately, everything he does he imagines what it would be like to have you there. Your arms around him as he cooks, your head on his lap as he watches TV, your body against his in the bed. The website finishes its search and he takes a deep breath, investigating the results. There are various common social media websites, accounts with academic journals (which he appreciates you for), and a couple of other sites he doesn’t recognise. He clicks on the first and furrows his brows. Fanfiction? He supposes that you are a voracious reader like he is, and you mentioned liking to write, but never admitting to what you wrote. This was it then, was it? Your secret writing? It wasn’t that secret, the account was registered in your name, all the works listed being for books and media that you talked about often. You had quite a decent following, at least in his eyes, you were no celebrity, but you had a decent collection of comments and likes.

He starts to read, beginning with your most popular piece. He digests it in moments, his cheeks burning bright. It was pure pornography. Well not purely, there was quite a well-woven storyline behind it, but the focus was undoubtedly the filthy sex scenes. He loosens his tie, feeling hot. He double and triple checks that this is definitely your account, but it clearly is. He’s feeling a little disbelieving, you had just always seemed so innocent to him, but he supposed the two of you had never discussed sex in any way. Spencer would have combusted if it had ever come up. He inhales the rest of your work, getting unreasonably hard in his slacks as he reads. He’s impressed by the skill of your writing, but more than anything, by how delicious your imagination is. It’s like you’ve plucked every fantasy he’s ever allowed himself to have out of his brain and written it up with beautiful flowery language. He doesn’t know half of the characters that you’ve written for, but it doesn’t matter to him, as he imagines the two of you in their places and it works perfectly. Almost like it was written with the two of you in mind. He discards that thought, but not before noticing that you’ve been writing a lot more in the past few months you’ve known each other. He notices how many of your stories centre around a more submissive male, a favourite trope of yours seeming to be having the female partner sit on their face. He imagines you sitting on his face and groans aloud, having to palm his bulge through his slacks. He imagines you’d be like the protagonists in your stories, dominating but kind. He reaches into his slacks to stroke himself, not something he does often, but something that has certainly been more frequent lately. His eyes skim a passage of one of your stories as he tugs at himself, picturing your face between the words. He cums harder than he thinks he ever has because this feels that much closer to the real thing. Once he’s done, he sits catching his breath, staring at the mess on his hand and stomach. He thinks he should feel ashamed, but he’s still aroused, terribly so. He wishes he could show you what you do to him. Before he can stop himself, his aroused brain much less intelligent than he usually is, he makes an account on the site with his name and leaves a comment on your most recent work.

“This was the hottest thing I’ve ever read,”

He sends it and sits back, wiping the rest of the residue off his stomach. As the haze of arousal lifts, he realises what he’s done. Panicking, he tries to delete the comment, but there’s no option to. He swallows, taking a deep breath. It’ll be okay, he tells himself, if she ever notices, I’ll pretend I was just being sarcastic, teasing her for writing this kind of thing, not genuinely rocked by it. However, his phone is already ringing. It’s you. You never call. You couldn’t have seen the comment already, could you? He seriously debates not answering, even as he’s desperate to hear your voice. Against his better judgment, he picks up the phone.

“Am I speaking to SpencerReid1981?” you chuckle over the phone, your voice teasing as you recite his username. His plans to pretend he was mocking you go out the window the second you talk. He can tell you have one over him by the confident tone in your voice. You’ve had one over him since the day you first met.

“Y-yeah,” he relents, seeing no way out of this now. What would the chances be of another Spencer Reid born in 1981 having commented on your fanfiction? If he wasn’t so nervous and lingeringly aroused, he could’ve told you. He decides to just be earnest. “You’re a really good writer,”

“How did you even find me on there?” you scoff, laughing gently. He blushes, glad you can’t see it.

“You don’t want to know,” he mumbles. There’s a moment of silence.

“So… you found it hot, huh? What part?” he chokes slightly on his spit, going bright red, you can probably tell, even through the phone.

“Don’t make me say it,” he squeaks. You hum softly on the other end.

“Oh come on… you started all this,” you coax. He’s silent for another beat, you hear his laboured breaths on the phone.

“The- when- when she uh… sat on his face,” he stutters out. You smirk.

“Really?” you stretch out the last syllable in a playful manner. “You a big giver then?” you say it to tease him, expecting him to sputter and deny it, to beg to change the subject, but he doesn’t.

“I– I would be for you,” you both go silent, you in shock and him in fear of your reaction. You’re dumbfounded that he would ever be so direct with you. It’s been clear to you for a while that he has a thing for you, you’ve caught his lingering looks on your lips or your thighs, the way you’re able to fluster him, but you’d assumed he’d dance around it forever. He’d just essentially admitted, leaving it hanging in the air.

“Come over,” you answer simply, hanging up the phone before he can ask questions or change his mind. Spencer feels completely dumbstruck by your words. Come over? His legs are carrying him to his door before he can think about it. He grabs his bag and his coat and hurries to his car. He’s never driven so fast in his life, he’s only been at your place once, to drop you off after your work, but the way there is memorised like the back of his hand anyway. He worries in the back of his mind that he may get a speeding ticket, but any fine is worth it for you. He’s sprinting up the stairs of your apartment building, his long frame moving nimbler than ever before. He reaches your apartment and knocks at the door.

You answer the door, dressed in some loungewear and he suddenly realises how real this all is. He stands there staring, unable to do anything else, even as you greet him and tell him to come in. You have to take his arm and pull him inside, your hand on his arm lighting him on fire. But he’s shy again, he needs you to take control of this because he has no clue what he’s doing here. He’s never done something like this before, and he's never been so reckless. Did he even lock the door when he left home? You look so beautiful that everything could be stolen from him and he wouldn’t bat a lash. He fidgets, looking anywhere but your eyes. You’re talking to him but he can’t figure out what you’re saying, his brain feeling like mush. He tries his best to pick out some words from the pleasing hum of your voice. You’re saying something about your bedroom. He connects the dots when you start to pull his arm.

“Wha- wait, what are we doing?” he asks, his voice shaking. You freeze, tilting your head.

“What do you mean what are we doing?”

“I mean– uh– I wasn’t really– are we…?” he stammers, his fingers fidgeting.

“Don’t you want this?” you frown, worrying you’d misread this somehow, even though he’d come rushing over here. He stares at you, eyebrow twitching. You move closer, gently smoothing your hand up his arm. He closes his eyes, losing himself in it.

“Yeah,” he breathes, even though he’s not entirely sure what he’s agreeing to. Whatever it is, if it’s preceded by you touching him like this, it must be good. He follows you like a puppy as you guide him to your bedroom. You place your hands on his chest and he whines, somewhere deep in his throat. The feeling is just so overwhelming in all the best ways. His eyes are wide staring down into yours as your fingers twist, gripping his sweater vest. You lean up, touching your lips to his and he’s whining again. He kisses back, his hands finding your hips, hovering. Your hands are raking through his hair.

“Lie on the bed for me,” you mumble between kisses. He shivers.

“Are you going to sit on my face?” he asks bluntly, needing to know if he’s getting what he’s been thinking about non-stop since earlier this evening, probably even before that. You chuckle at his candour, he’s always been like this and it’s endearing that he’s no different in this situation.

“That’s the idea,” you grin, tilting your head to the side to press closer as you kiss him. He shuffles toward the bed and you push him back to lie down, disconnecting your lips to pull his sweater vest off. He looks up at you pleadingly until you lean down to kiss him again. You straddle his stomach, his hands lie awkwardly at his sides. His breathing is erratic and his fingers fiddle nervously with the material of your sheets. “You okay?” you ask between slow wet kisses.

“Just nervous… I don’t– I can’t disappoint you and I– I don’t really have a lot of experience here,” he admits, his lips pressing needily against yours between words.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll take care of you,” you promise, he nods against you. Even he’s surprised by how much he trusts you. You pull back, watching as he stares up at you, his eyes practically black. He’s panting heavily. You pull your shirt over your head, feeling his hips buck under you as your breasts come into view. He’d always known every inch of you would be perfect for him, and he was right. He was a genius after all. You move just enough to shed your pyjama pants, taking your underwear with them. You stuff your panties into Spencer’s slack pocket with a wink. He takes a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” he exhales, eyes drinking you in. You giggle, shuffling up to straddle his chest. He swallows loudly, his mouth watering from the little glimpse he can get, craning his neck. “I’m so… glad we’re doing this,” he whispers. You chuckle again at his behaviour. You stroke his hair gently and his eyes flutter. He usually hated unexpected touch, but everything you did was blissful.

“Ready?” you ask softly. He nods, eyes fluttering back open, determined to get a glimpse of you that he can commit to memory.

You lift up and shuffle yourself over top of his face. He gasps like he’s just seen God. You, spread open above him, glistening with want. He grips tightly at the sheets, trying to keep himself grounded as the heady smell of you fills his nose. He leans up and places a gentle, experimental kiss on your folds, whining as he does so. You hum softly, leaning forward to brace yourself against the headboard. Puffs of breath wash over your core for a moment, before Spencer leans up, flattening his tongue and laving it against you, up and down, slow and steady. You can tell he’s still finding his way, so you let yourself enjoy the gentle pleasure. You sigh encouragingly as he gets acquainted with the area, exploring it with the tip of his tongue. Never in a million years would he have guessed that you tasted so good. Though he was new at this, he knew anatomy well and knew the spots he’d be looking for. His tongue finds what he assumes to be your clit and he gives it a soft kiss, feeling your hips gently buck. Success. He swirls his tongue carefully around it, not wanting to overwhelm you. Your sighs increase in volume. Spencer takes a chance, lifting his hands and wrapping them around your thighs, pulling you down so you’re more seated on his face. You gasp slightly and he smiles, eagerly returning to his work. His tongue laps at you hungrily, getting into a rhythm. He breathes through his nose, not wanting to stop what he’s doing for even a moment. The taste of you gets stronger and stronger against his tongue as you approach your peak steadily. He groans at the taste. Your hand snakes down into his hair, gripping his long locks to keep yourself anchored. You moan above him, your head lolled forward against the headboard. As he starts to focus his tongue more pointedly on your clit, flicking gently like he read to do in a book once, your hips rut slightly.

“Suck it,” you pant. He doesn’t register your words for a moment but when he does, he happily complies. His lips close around the little nub and he sucks carefully. Your hand tightens in his hair and you wail in pleasure. You grind yourself down onto his face as he suckles at you gently. You both know what’s coming and while Spencer is thrilled he could get you there, he almost doesn’t want it to end. It’s as if you read his mind. “Don’t stop,” you whine, your eyes squeezed shut, nails digging slightly into his scalp. He pulls you closer to his face, focusing all his efforts. He switches fumblingly between licks and sucks, but it seems to be working nonetheless as you become louder and louder. “Oh! Spencer!” you cry out, your whole body shuddering. He almost comes in his pants at the sound of it. “Ooooh!” you wail, reaching your peak. Your body tenses and then releases, going limp with bliss. His lips stop moving and he stares up at you, waiting for your next move. “Oh, that was amazing Spencer,” you sigh, sluggishly moving down his body until your faces are level. He licks his lips, gazing at you adoringly. You reach up to wipe his wet chin with a small smile.

“I was okay, then?” he chuckles nervously, his hand coming to your waist, a little unsure.

“What do you think, genius?” you tease, kissing his temple. He sighs and flutters his eyes closed. Everything had happened so fast, he wasn’t sure what this meant for the two of you and your friendship, so blinded by lust when he got over here. But you were kissing down his jaw and neck, not indicating that you were kicking him out, and he felt a little better for it. He notices that your lips are straying quite low, over his chest and stomach through his shirt. His eyes flutter open and his breath hitches as he sees you gazing seductively up at him.

“Wha–?” he stammers as you start to unbuckle his belt.

“Returning the favour,” you smile, pressing kisses where his shirt had ridden up. He moans softly, his brain starting to turn to mush once more.

“God, I love you,” he gasps. You both go still for a moment as his words sink in. He can’t believe he just said that, especially right now, with your head hovering over his crotch, even if he desperately means it. He opens his mouth to try and fix this but you beat him to it. You press a kiss just below his belly button.

“I love you too,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

xoxoxo

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year ago

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If there is one thing Eddie Munson is good at, it's hyperfixating. He can spend hours upon hours wholly entranced by whatever it is that has his attention, whether it's a newly discovered band or a book series he's reading or some random new interest he likes to immerse himself in. It's something Steve, who himself has the attention span of a goldfish, will never really understand, but that's okay: even without understanding it, it's one of the things he loves about Eddie.

Some of Eddie's obsessions fade just as quickly as they appear, but others stay with him for years. So when he reaches a 1000-day streak on Duolingo learning Elvish, Steve has a surprise for him: two tickets for a Lord of the Rings convention in Chicago. The second ticket is not for Steve – they enjoy their own separate interests just fine without the other's involvement – but for Dustin, and the two of them wave goodbye to Steve with a suitcase filled with nerdy costumes and matching excited sparks in their eyes.

Eddie returns a few days later filled with stories about all that he and Dustin got up to.

'Guess who we met at the convention,' is one of the first things he tells Steve. He's bouncing around with excitement, too impatient to even wait for Steve's first guess. 'The guy who created the Elvish Duolingo course! And guess what? He lives in Indianapolis! I'm having lunch with him next week!'

And it's cool, Steve is happy that Eddie met his hero and made a new nerd friend out of him, he truly is – until Eddie shows him the picture that Dustin took of the two of them.

Here's the thing: Steve is not a jealous person. Not at all. He knows that jealousy is a gross thing to feel and he can't even imagine not trusting Eddie. But... he had not expected Eddie's lame nerd idol to have amazing hair, a lip piercing, and muscles in all the right places. The guy looks like a freaking model. And usually, that wouldn't bother Steve – he knows he's not exactly ugly himself – but usually he doesn't have to compete with guys who speak Elvish fluently.

'You should come with me, we can all hang out together,' Eddie suggests. 'I'm sure you'll love him.'

Steve is hesitant about it, but Eddie refuses to take no for an answer, and that's how Steve ends up at Vikram's house for lunch two weeks later.

Eddie gasps loudly when Vikram leads them into his living room, clutching a dramatic hand to his chest in true Eddie fashion. Steve knows it's not all theatrics, though: there's no way a room like this wouldn't genuinely impress Eddie. It's dark and filled with big leather furniture. Framed posters for various metal bands and horror movies hang on the walls. There are shelves filled with big fantasy books, and every corner of the room has a display cabinet filled with what seem to be collectors' items for various series.

If Steve had been hoping for Vikram to look more like a stereotypical nerd in real life, he would be severely disappointed: the guy looks amazing in a leather jacket that would fit perfectly in Eddie's own collection and black skinny jeans that show off a truly amazing pair of legs, making Steve feel oddly self-conscious about the couple of pounds he gained since he left his high school sports days behind him.

While they're having lunch – Vikram bakes his own bread and it's so good that Steve doesn't think he can ever stop eating – Eddie and Vikram enthusiastically talk each other's heads off about all things Tolkien. Steve, on the other hand, grows more quiet as time passes, not really following along and sure as hell not able to give any contributions to the topic at hand.

'Did you ever try to learn some Sindarin as well, Steve? Or are you more of a Quenya guy?' Vikram asks him in what is no doubt a well-meant attempt to include Steve in the conversation.

Steve hastily swallows a big mouthful of bread and feels his cheeks heat up.

'I never read those books,' he sheepishly confesses.

'Oh!' Vikram's eyes widen and Steve can practically see him think: You never bothered to show any interest in one of your boyfriend's favorite things?

'Well, I mean, I tried,' Steve rushes to explain himself. 'But I um, I couldn't really keep my attention to it. They're a bit difficult to read. For me.' Somehow, explaining it only makes him feel worse about it.

'Oh, yeah, I get it, man. Those books aren't for everyone.'

There is no meanness or hidden insult behind his words. But Steve only feels more like an outsider while Eddie asks Vikram some incomprehensible question that has Vikram giving an in-depth explanation about the difference between two words that literally sound the same to Steve's ears. And when Eddie laughs about a joke that goes way over Steve's head, then says something in that stupidly beautiful nerd language which prompts a laugh from Vikram in return, Steve is reminded in full force how ugly of an emotion jealousy is.

They say goodbye – Eddie says something in Elvish again and Steve has to watch Vikram laugh a joyous laugh about it again – and Steve is quiet during the drive back home.

'Is something wrong?' Eddie asks when they're home, perceptive as always.

'No,' Steve lies.

'Stevie, c'mon.' Eddie studies Steve's face intently, a frown between his eyebrows just barely hidden by his bangs. 'What's going on?' Something in his expression shifts. 'Wait. You didn't like Vikram, did you? Did you hate him?'

'No, I didn't hate him!' Steve is quick to say. 'He's awesome, Eddie, he's perfect and smart and funny and perfect.'

Eddie narrows his eyes like Steve said something weird.

'Why did you say he's perfect twice?'

Steve huffs and runs a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. 'Just drop it, Eddie.'

'No, I'm not dropping it.' Eddie crosses his arms. 'What are you not telling me?'

Steve sighs. 'Okay, I didn't want to bother you with this, because it's my problem and not yours, and jealousy is an ugly emotion, but–'

'You're jealous of Vikram?'

'I mean, he's like, super hot, and he has this cool house, and he loves the same things as you, and you can speak your cool nerd language with him, while I'm too dumb to even read your cool nerd books and–'

'Steve,' Eddie interrupts him. 'You have no reason to be jealous.'

'I just...' Steve pauses, pinches the bridge of his nose. He finally manages to voice the thought that has been eating at him ever since he met Vikram. 'I don't want you to wake up someday and wish that you were with someone as smart as you are.'

The way Eddie's breath catches is barely noticeable. Then, he reaches out and gently places his hands on Steve's shoulders.

'I am with someone as smart as I am,' he says softly.

Steve scoffs.

'No, it's true,' Eddie presses on. 'Okay, so you don't enjoy reading Tolkien, and you don't speak Elvish. I don't care about that, man. I love the way you think. I love your inexhaustible knowledge of weird sports facts. I love how precise you are about weighing ingredients when you're baking something. I love your through-the-roof emotional and social intelligence.' He lifts one hand off of Steve's shoulder to pet his head, almost as if he's some kind of animal. 'You got a pretty big brain in there, no matter what you tell yourself, Stevie. And that's why I love you, more than anyone who speaks Elvish fluently.'

Steve tugs Eddie closer until their bodies are pressed against each other, his arms around Eddie's waist and his head resting on Eddie's shoulder.

'I don't think anyone has ever called me smart before,' he quietly admits.

'Well, I'll do it more often, then,' Eddie replies. 'Cause you are.'

(I wrote this because @undreaming-rambles has reached the unbelievable milestone of a 1000-day duolingo strike today. obviously that called for a silly fanfic celebration moment, congrats on your incredible perseverance aneta 💖 and credit where credit is due: this one was inspired by an episode of my beloved comfort show brooklyn 99)

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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happy74827 · 3 months ago

Text

Love Me Like A Sailor

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: It’s rare that dreams can turn into reality, but it isn’t impossible.

WC: 5537 (trust the process friends 🙏)

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends + Lovers, Wade POV, Mentions of the Past {TW: Self-Deprecation, Wade having insecurities, Not Proof Read}

Where are all the fics of this man? I can barely find some for him and it’s making me go crazy. Like, your honor, I love him. Gimme more.

Anyway, I figured I would write a Wade fic that’s around the same premise as my Wolverine one (since SO MANY OF YOU ate it up), so if anyone actually finds this… you’re welcome 🫶✨

��••✎••』

He was always in love with you. Always.

Wade Wilson had never been the smartest tool in the shed, the prettiest girl in the room, or even the tallest guy. In fact, he was a little bit of the opposite. He had a face only a mother could love, he was always cracking jokes at the wrong time, and his voice was too loud and too obnoxious for his own good. And while all of these traits might be endearing when it came from a handsome man with a voice as smooth as silk, the same qualities were irritating at best when it came to Wade.

He knew that. He wasn't blind. He knew he was annoying and ugly and too loud. However, there was one thing he was certain of: Wade Wilson was in love with his best friend.

Wade Wilson was not in love with just any best friend. He was in love with the only person who had been there since the beginning, the only one who had stuck with him through everything he had been through.

He was in love with you.

And you were in love with him, or so he hoped. He couldn’t tell because you were the most gorgeous, sweet, caring, thoughtful, and wonderful person on this planet, and he was none of those things.

He could barely bring himself to think of the words that could be on the tip of your tongue whenever he was around. He didn't deserve you. He was damaged.

But sometimes, he couldn’t help but hope—hope that you would return his feelings, hope that maybe you felt the same way, hope that you could be more than just best friends.

Every time the thought crossed his mind, his heart would pound in his chest. He was always so close to telling you, to confessing, but then he would stop himself. It was a constant back-and-forth.

One night, after a particularly long night of kicking names and taking asses, Wade decided to visit his gal pal, and by visit, he meant to break into your house and steal your food.

So, like Krampus, if Krampus had a thing for chimichangas instead of children, Wade climbed through your bedroom window as it had been left unlocked. You had told him a thousand times to use the front door, but Wade couldn’t do that. If he did that, he would feel too normal. And as much as Wade enjoyed breaking and entering, he would be damned if he made it boring for himself.

He only wished he could stick the landing.

In his defense, he had only fallen off the window ledge by an inch or two. However, the thud that his body made when he landed on the hardwood floor of your bedroom was louder than he had anticipated, and it sounded like an explosion.

A big one, too, like someone who had a little too much Taco Bell and took a nice walk through Barnes & Noble. Oh, yes, he knows exactly what you book nerds do when you’re approaching that infamous bathroom sign.

But, regardless of his loud entrance, he jumped back up to his feet and brushed the dust off his suit before making his way to the kitchen.

The smell of vanilla wafted through the air as Wade entered the kitchen and saw nothing but cleanliness and order. He opened the cupboards and frowned at the lack of food.

This was a problem.

A major problem.

There was nothing he could eat. No tacos. No chimichangas. No candy. Not even a damn Dorito.

What kind of animal would do this?

Wade had never been so offended. He was going to have to talk to you about this. You couldn’t have a guest over and not have snacks.

He decided to call you. Maybe you could talk some sense into yourself.

You answered after the second ring.

You didn't seem surprised at all to hear his voice on the other end of the line. Wade was used to your nonchalance when it came to him and his shenanigans. He loved it.

You always kept him on his toes, and the fact that you had become desensitized to his crazy was both amusing and infuriating.

And it really worked out to his benefit tonight.

Because when he started complaining about the lack of food in your apartment, instead of telling him to get his ass back to his place and stop breaking into yours, you told him to sit tight.

That you would be right over.

And that's how Wade found himself waiting for you on your couch, his leg bouncing with anticipation as he waited for you to get here.

His heart was pounding against his rib cage as his fingers drummed a nervous beat against his thighs. He so wanted to marry you the moment you walked through the door.

He would make sure that was the first thing out of his mouth.

And when you handed him his bag of Checkers, he couldn't stop himself from blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

"Wanna get married?"

He fully meant it, too—the whole shi-bang.

Till death do us part.

Till the cows come home.

Till the last dance.

And every single second after.

You played it off as one of his usual antics. One of the jokes that Wade always cracked whenever he was hungry or when you surprised him.

Of course, why would you think he was being serious? His life was a full-blown comedy, a slapstick routine that would have even the biggest comedian crying with laughter.

Wade knew that. But, for once, he wished his life became less of a joke and more of a fairy tale.

A happily ever after. If they even exist.

It seemed life always had an extra curveball for him. A twist. Something unexpected. Something that made him feel even less human.

He could never catch a break even if the closest thing he could imagine to heaven was standing in front of him.

So, with a heavy sigh, Wade took the bag of Checkers and plopped himself onto the couch, hoping to enjoy the sweet taste of victory in the form of sugar and carbs.

And then you did something that made him fall in love with you even more.

You sat next to him.

Wade didn't even try to hide the wide grin that spread across his lips as he watched you sit beside him, a smile of your own on your pretty face.

You were beautiful. So, so beautiful.

Wade had always known that. He could tell the moment he first met you. He could also see the panic, the fear, and the terror in your eyes when you saw him.

And he was hot then, too—supermodel level.

Fun fact: the reason why you two met was that Wade might have gotten the names mixed up on his gold card and had ended up at a very fancy restaurant, and, well, his idea of the target was the one serving him.

You.

It was a bit awkward.

But, after you realized he wasn’t going to murder you and that he had no idea how much a glass of water cost or how his steak was literally the size of the entire restaurant, you started talking.

And the rest, as they say, is history.

It was love at first sight. In his mind, at least. He couldn’t imagine life without you.

Wade was in deep.

And the way you were looking at him right now, a glimmer of happiness in your eyes, a soft smile of contentment on your face, and your body turned towards him, well, it made him melt.

Wade had always been a sucker for romantic movies and romance novels, and the way you looked right now was straight out of a Nicholas Sparks movie.

He wanted to kiss you.

No.

He needed to kiss you. To feel your lips against his. Your hands in his. The warmth of your body. Your heartbeat.Everything.

He needed it all.

Call him a horny bastard, but you looked absolutely beautiful sitting there, eating one of his favorite fries from the bag.

Wade had always loved the little things. He loved watching you eat. He loved seeing you play with your hair. He loved it when you babbled to yourself. And, right now, you were doing the cutest thing ever.

You were holding the bag out to him, a fry halfway to your mouth, your eyes wide, and a bright smile on your face. You looked so happy.

Wade was happy, too.

"Want some?"

Nuggets. He didn’t even know Checkers had nuggets.

He hadn’t seen these bad boys since high school. And even then, they were the cheap knockoff, frozen food nuggets.

These were the good shit.

"Oh, baby, I'd take you and all your chicken nuggets to prom," Wade said as he reached forward and plucked a chicken nugget out of the bag.

He popped it into his mouth and let out a satisfied hum.

You giggled and shook your head as you pulled the bag back towards yourself and set it on your lap.

"You're a dork, Wade."

"The dorkiest."

"That's true."

You took a sip from your soda and leaned back, letting out a content sigh as you did so.

"Thanks for coming over," Wade said as he grabbed his burger and began eating.

"Well, I do live here," you replied, your eyes darting toward the bag of nuggets. "I can't really go anywhere else."

Maybe you can’t, but he can go inside your—

"I was actually thinking we could spend the night together," you continued, oblivious to the naughty thoughts running through his mind. "We haven't done that in a while."

Wade nearly choked on his burger.

He swallowed quickly and let out a small cough before grabbing his soda and downing the entire thing. For once, the liquid soothed his parched throat.

"I mean, uh, yeah, sure, totally. It'll be just like the old days. You, me, Netflix, and chilling."

He couldn't help it, okay? Flirting was just one of the many things that Wade Wilson did naturally.

Just like his regular occurrence of having 207 bones in his body.

It wasn't his fault that his words came out suggestive. He fully meant it—every word.

Every single flirtatious word that tumbled out of his mouth. Every joke that came out as a compliment. Every compliment was more of a sexual innuendo than anything.

It was who he was.

It was the only way he knew how to talk to people. Especially the person with whom he was in love.

He couldn't just go up to you and tell you that you were the most amazing person he had ever met, or that your smile was so beautiful that it made his heart skip a beat, or that he loved the way you looked at him when you were happy, or the way your voice would turn into a squeal when you laughed, or the way you would blush when he flirted with you.

He couldn't say all those things because they were cheesy and cliche, and you would think he was lying.

So, he made jokes. He made innuendos. He made you blush and giggle and roll your eyes.

Because that was the best way to get through to you.

That was the only way.

Or, at least, that's what he had thought.

Now, the truth was a bit different. The truth was that Wade was scared. Scared that you wouldn't feel the same way. Scared that he would ruin everything. Scared that you would leave.

So, he flirted. And joked. And tried to act like everything was normal. Like he was still in his younger, good-looking, more handsome days. Like if he made himself delusional enough to believe he was still attractive, he could convince himself that he would always have a chance.

Because he wasn't, he was old, ugly, and damaged. And no one, not even someone as beautiful and kind and wonderful as you, would want someone who had gone through the things he had.

Who had done the things he had.

You didn’t show any signs of disgust or resentment when he showed up on your doorstep for the first time after his incident or even the next time. Or the times after that.

But Wade couldn’t help but feel like it would eventually happen, and you would eventually get tired of him that you would realize how damaged he was. How broken he was.

That he wasn’t worthy.

"Remember that party?" Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. You had a fond smile on your face as you looked up at the ceiling. "When you snuck into my room and convinced me to sneak out and have fun with you?"

Yes, yes, he did. He remembered it far better than you. And he knew that, even though you hadn’t said it, he knew that this was a memory he treasured more because… ironically, it was the only time you had ever done something rebellious.

You had been so shy and timid and afraid to stand up for yourself. You had always been afraid of going against the grain, of doing what other people told you to do.

Wade had always wondered why. He had always wondered what was holding you back. So, when he was able to drag you out of your shell and make you experience a night, you would never forget, well, he was a happy man.

It was also the night he realized things that he had never been aware of before. Physically things.

There was a moment he remembered vividly. The two of you were about seconds away from getting a picture taken by some drunk dude with a Polaroid camera. Wade, being the good friend he was, had wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close.

In that moment, he happened to glance at you when the flash went off and, well, it was a picture perfect moment.

We’re talking slow-mo, people becoming blurred background characters, a spotlight shining down on you two, his heart pounding in his chest, and butterflies flying around in his stomach.

The only thing missing was a sappy love song playing in the background.

He had always assumed that the sudden fluttering feeling in his stomach and the way his heart was pounding was due to the fact that he hated his picture being taken.

Or that he had accidentally eaten the wrong thing at the buffet.

But, as he stared at you, he started noticing every single detail. How pretty your eyes became with the extra glint of the flash. How your smile was as bright as a baby’s bare ass. How you were so oblivious to everything else except for him.

How the world suddenly became a blur, and all he could focus on was you.

How the music faded away. How he forgot how to breathe. How his heart felt like it was about to explode.

It was at that moment Wade realized, for the first time, what love was.

Wade had never been the one for grand gestures. He didn't know how to express his emotions in ways other than jokes or sarcasm. So, when it came to romance, he always preferred to keep things simple.

Like now, break-ins and food were his version of a romantic dinner.

However, when it came to the actual feelings part, the emotional part, and the vulnerable part, Wade had a hard time with that.

This was why, when you turned your attention towards him, he couldn't stop the words from spilling out of his mouth.

"Why haven’t we ever dated?"

You blinked.

You stared at him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, you responded, "You’re really affected by getting Checkers, aren't you?"

Wade could see the amusement in your eyes and he could hear the faint traces of humor in your tone, but, somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling that you were avoiding the question.

He couldn’t tell if it was because you didn't want to answer him or if it was because you didn't know what to say.

And, for a brief moment, Wade hesitated to push you. He didn't want to make things uncomfortable. He didn't want to put you on the spot. He didn't want to scare you away.

But, then again, if there was anything Wade Wilson was good at, it was pushing people to their absolute limit.

So, he pushed.

"Skip the foreplay," he said, his voice firm and steady but not unkind. "Seriously, why have we never dated?"

Wade kept his eyes on yours, his expression serious, his body tense. He waited for you to speak, his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach churning.

You were silent for a long moment, staring at him with wide, confused eyes.

"Because we're best friends," you answered finally, your tone matter-of-fact, almost as if you were stating a fact. "And, I… I just never thought about it.

Wade felt his heart sink. He knew that you weren’t lying. He could see it in the way your lips curled downwards, the way your eyebrows furrowed, and the way your shoulders slumped forward.

You were telling the truth.

It was a truth Wade didn’t want to hear.

He opened his mouth, prepared to apologize, to change the subject, to say something to make you laugh.

But, before he could utter a single word, you spoke again.

"Besides, it's not like you've ever been interested."

There was a hint of bitterness in your voice, a tinge of hurt in your tone.

It was a subtle reminder that Wade had a track record of being a player. A serial flirt who was never serious. A guy who flirted with every girl, who was constantly on the lookout for the next big thing.

He was the type of guy who would rather have fun than get attached. Or, at least, that's what everyone assumed.

At the tone of your voice, Wade immediately perked up, his eyes widening in surprise and his heart pounding.

The guttural laugh that escaped his lips caught you by surprise.

You flinched slightly and stared at him, your mouth agape, your eyes wide, and your expression bewildered.

"Sorry," Wade apologized quickly, his voice quiet and strained. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "But, goddamn, that’s… oh, man. You do not know how wrong you are."

"Oh, don’t even, Winston Wilson, this is not the time for your jokes," you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Oh, middle names, huh? Are we there already? Because I have to say, I didn't think you were the type of girl who'd use a guy's full name to show her disappointment, but I have to admit, it's kind of hot."

Wade smirked at the annoyed look that crossed your face, but it soon faded as he realized that you didn't find the comment amusing.

Instead, you seemed to grow even more frustrated.

"Wade," you started, your voice soft and low, your tone filled with frustration and sadness, "I don’t want to get into it right now, okay? Can we please just eat our food and watch a movie or something?"

You turned away from him, focusing your attention on the bag of Checkers.

He couldn’t let you avoid this.

"Look, I'm not trying to be a jerk," he began, his voice soft and gentle, "I'm just… did you seriously never think I would want to be with you?"

You paused and turned to look at him, a confused expression on your face.

"Of course not; why would I?"

The genuine shock in your voice and the innocent look on your face nearly broke his heart.

He thought he was being the most obvious motherfucker on the planet, but apparently, you had been as blind as a bat.

"I've been flirting with you for years," he reminded you. "I've been complimenting you, and asking you to hang out, and giving you gifts, and—"

"That's just what you do, Wade," you interrupted, shaking your head. "That's what you do to all girls. You flirt with them. You ask them out. You do the whole charming and funny routine. I’m sure if you knew their addresses, you would break in too."

Okay, ouch.

You weren't exactly wrong, but still, that kind of stung.

"That's not what I'm talking about," he insisted, his voice growing louder, his tone firm.

"What are you talking about, then?"

"I'm talking about you, okay? You’re like the Goldie Hawn to my Kurt Russell. Or, if I'm being completely honest, you're like chimichangas and tacos, and not just because they're both delicious, but because, let's face it, I'm addicted to you."

Your expression remained neutral, your eyes still boring into his.

"You're my best friend," he continued, his voice growing softer, his tone gentler, "and, yeah, maybe I used to flirt with other girls a lot, but I don't care about them. I don't even really know them. And, besides, none of them would be able to look me in the eyes right now, the way you are."

"Don’t start with that," you mumbled, averting your gaze and looking down at the floor.

"Start with what?"

"Being self-deprecating."

"It's not self-deprecating," he said, his tone growing defensive. His whole confession was momentarily forgotten. "It's true. I am a walking nightmare, and not just because I look like Freddy Krueger and Leatherface had a baby, but also because I've killed more people than I've seen naked."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I haven't seen you naked," you retorted, a playful smirk forming on your lips.

"Hey, don't tease me. I'm already emotionally vulnerable enough."

You snorted, but your grin was soft and warm.

"Okay, sorry," you said, your tone apologetic, your expression serious, "but, seriously, though, you’re not a nightmare. Not to me. I mean, sure, you look like a melted wax figurine, and your personality is like a mix between a hyperactive 10-year-old and a 70-year-old alcoholic, but, you know, I don't mind."

"Oh, you're too kind."

"My point is, it doesn't bother me, Wade," you assured him. "And it never will."

"Even if it does," he said, his voice quiet, his tone low, "it won't change the way I feel about you."

Your expression softened, the playfulness fading from your eyes. You looked about ready to let out some tears, but Wade had a feeling that they weren’t because you were sad.

"Did you really think that all this time?" you asked, the softness in your tone making his chest tighten. "You wanted to date me?"

He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

"Yeah," he answered, his tone casual, "you’re hot, toots. Even hotter than me in my prime."

You rolled your eyes, a faint smile on your face. "I don’t know, Wade. The suit does you justice."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Is that your way of telling me that my ass looks good in this thing?"

"Oh, Wade, I don't need to tell you that," you replied, smirking. "You know how amazing your ass is."

You’re right. Captain America had nothing on him.

He let out a deep breath, his eyes fixed on yours. He was silent for a long moment, just taking in your appearance.

You didn’t change much from that day at the party. Maybe your facial features matured a little, and maybe your body grew a little more, but besides that, you looked the same.

The only difference was the look you gave him. The softness of your eyes. The affection in your expression. The gentleness of your smile.

It was the same look he constantly gave you when he thought you weren’t looking.

It was the look of someone who cared deeply for you. Someone who cherished you. Who wanted to make you happy. Who wanted to be by your side forever.

Someone who loved you.

"Do you ever wonder what would've happened if we kissed that night?"

He didn’t expect you to know exactly what he was talking about. Random question and all that. But, you surprised him once again.

"Why didn’t you?"

The question caught him off guard.

He was used to the playful banter, the light teasing, the random flirting. He wasn’t used to you being so forward. So blunt.

He was the blunt one. You were stealing his thunder.

"I was a cowardly bitch."

His honesty surprised both of you. He didn’t even plan on saying that. It was just the first thing that popped into his head.

It was true, though.

"Are you still a cowardly bitch?"

"I think so," he said slowly, "I think the main difference is, now I'm a cowardly bitch that knows what he wants."

He saw the way your cheeks reddened, the way you avoided his gaze, and the way you shifted your weight from side to side.

Wade Wilson may not be good at emotions, but he knew what those signs meant.

He was making you nervous.

He couldn’t help the small grin that spread across his face. He liked that. He liked that he made you nervous. That he made you blush. That he could make you flustered.

And, most of all, he liked that he was able to make you feel that way.

He couldn’t remember the last time a woman was that shy and timid around him. Most of the girls he met were bold, confident, and loud… just like him.

He preferred your type, though. Sometimes, he even needs a break from his own obnoxiousness.

"So," he started, his tone casual, his posture relaxed, "you chill with the idea of ruining a perfectly good friendship and getting in a relationship with me? A crazy, scarred, murderous man who doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut?"

He watched you take a deep breath, your eyes focused on his, a faint smile on your face.

"I'll consider it," you responded, your tone playful, a mischievous glint in your eyes, "but you have to answer one question first."

"Oh, a quiz? Can we have a prize for the winner?"

You chuckled.

"What's the question?"

You smiled.

"When you said that you've killed more people than you've seen naked, was that true?"

"Yes." He answered without hesitation. Something told him that lying was not an option here.

"And, when you said that the suit does me justice," he started, his tone casual, his eyes bright, and his smile mischievous, "was that your way of telling me that you want to see me naked?"

"You wish, Wilson."

"You're right. I do."

He didn't mean to sound so sincere, but, damn, the words just slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Wade watched as you smiled and turned your attention toward the bag of Checkers momentarily, and, for a split second, Wade worried that he had taken things too far. That he had scared you away.

He shouldn't have been worried.

Because, when you moved the bag to the table and stood up, his eyes immediately focused on the way your lips were twisted into a smirk and the way your eyes were locked on his.

You didn’t say a word. You didn’t need to. He was already nodding along for whatever plan was formulating in that pretty little head of yours.

And, when you straddled him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close and leaning in close, it was like he was back at that party.

It was the same feeling.

The nervousness. The anticipation. The excitement. The anxiety. The giddiness. The rush.

Everything was the same, except this time, it was actually happening. And, he was sober.

As you pulled him in, he leaned forward and closed the distance between you, kissing you slowly, his eyes closed, his hands on your hips, and his lips pressed against yours. The mask that had been halfway covering his face was now tossed aside by him to indulge in the kiss fully.

It was better than he could have ever imagined.

You were better than he could have ever imagined.

But then, his insecurities kicked in, and the reality of the situation hit him. In his mind, he had imagined this moment with his younger, healthier self. The buffed-out arms, the clear skin, the perfect jawline. He still had that scruff of a beard in his mind, and the outlines of his eyebrows did not melt completely.

But, when he felt your lips against his, and the softness of your touch, the warmth of your body, the taste of your tongue, he was reminded that you didn’t picture him as he once was.

You were seeing him as he was now. Hairless, deformed, scarred, a hot mess, and a complete disaster. And you were still kissing him. You were still touching him. You were still here.

It was better than anything his imagination could conjure up.

Because, for once, reality was better than fantasy. For once, he realized that maybe his face wasn’t a face only a mother could love and that maybe his looks weren't a dealbreaker for a certain somebody.

You broke the kiss and pulled away, staring at him, your face inches away from his. He stared at you, his eyes meeting yours.

He was searching, trying to read you, trying to figure out what was going through your mind. See if you had those second thoughts. If you regret this.

All he found, though, was that pretty little smile of yours. The one that made his heart skip a beat. The one that made him smile back.

"Well," you started, your eyes sparkling with mischief, "if it's any consolation, Wade, I think our friendship was pretty fucked the minute I decided to give you my number."

He raised an eyebrow, a grin forming on his lips.

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm," you nodded, biting your lip and leaning in close. Your hand reached up and cupped his cheek, stroking the skin softly. He shuddered. "I should've known the minute I decided to become friends with a guy who would willingly call himself Deadpool that it was a done deal."

He smirked, his fingers dancing across the small of your back.

"I'll try not to feel too offended by that."

"Trust me, you shouldn't," you murmured, your hand sliding down from his face to his shoulder, resting there. "It's not a bad thing, really. I mean, it's pretty awesome to have a friend who can take a bullet for you."

He smiled.

"Damn right, baby girl."

Your hand slid down from his shoulder, slowly moving down his arm, until you were grabbing his hand, lacing your fingers with his.

"But, Wade," you continued, squeezing his hand lightly, your eyes focused on his, a frown on your face, "you have to promise me something."

"Anything," he replied instantly.

You hesitated.

"Promise me," you started, your voice firm, your expression serious, "you’ll start to see yourself as I do."

Wade blinked, surprised.

That was not what he was expecting.

"You have a crush on my scars?"

He couldn't resist. He had to crack a joke. He was nervous. When wasn’t he cracking a joke?

He was also confused, but, hey, the joke was funnier.

"No," you replied, rolling your eyes, a faint smile on your face, "but I see past the scars."

"And, the crazy?"

"That too."

"And, the murderous tendencies?"

"Yes, Wade, everything," you answered, grinning, your eyes bright. "I see all of it, and it’s about damn time you do too."

"Yeah," he breathed out, "well, it's not as easy as you make it seem."

"Nothing is, Wilson."

You stared at him, the softness in your eyes, the gentleness in your smile, the affection in your voice.

He couldn't believe it.

But he couldn’t help the grin that appeared on his face, the warmth that filled his chest, or the butterflies in his stomach.

"I'll try."

For one of the rarest times in his life, Wade’s tone was completely sincere. Not a hint of humor or sarcasm. Just pure honesty.

And, judging by the way your face lit up and the way you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close, hugging him tightly, you appreciated his sincerity.

You rested your chin on his shoulder, your eyes closing.

"Good," you whispered. "That's all I ask."

His arms wrapped around you and held you close, his fingers running through your hair, his nose buried in your neck. He took in your scent, letting it fill his nostrils, his senses.

And, for once, everything was quiet. Everything was calm. Everything was perfect.

He didn't feel the need to crack a joke. To make a comment. To ruin the moment. He didn't want to. He just wanted to sit there and hold you, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.

He was content.

And he was happy.

Happy that you were with him.

And, most of all, he was grateful that he broke into your apartment and made himself comfortable on your couch.

684 notes · View notes

jenscx · 1 year ago

Text

BET ON IT — ahn yujin x f!reader

stereotypical jock ahn yujin is given a bet by her friends; take you, one of the smartest students in school, on a date. too bad you’re aware of the bet.

TAGS — literally all fluff, jock!yujin, yuj gets rejected a lot, popular x kinda nerd trope, ice hockey players r so fine, cursing

WORDCOUNT — 4.3k

when you first stepped into your new class, the tall brunette girl sitting at the back had caught your eye. she was wearing a varsity jacket and on her face adorned a boyish grin.

your cheeks had heated up when she sent a glance your way, and that’s when you realised, you had just found your newest object of infatuation. ahn yujin was just another hallway crush, blending into the crowd of high schoolers and standing out when she passed by your locker. she was eye candy for you and whenever you would see her, your day got significantly better.

once you were more settled in the school, you found out that yujin was unobtainable. way out of your league. a typical jock with a scholarship to an ivy league school. one that cared for neither studies nor academics. her only passion? playing ice hockey and with people’s hearts.

you had realised the latter when passing by a toilet cubicle. the sobs inside were too emotional and excruciating to ignore. despite your best efforts, your fist ended up knocking on the door and you had asked, “are you okay in there?”

inside of the cubicle was a girl, sobbing her eyes out. apparently, ahn yujin had promised to take her out on a date and even invited her back to her house but ended up ditching her. you had frowned, you could never have imagined the puppy-like girl you saw on the first day doing such a thing.

your infatuation for her slowly disappeared as you heard more and more stories of the atrocious things she would do to people. stomping on flowers, laughing at confessions and spreading rumours about people. ahn yujin was an asshole and a jerk. unfortunately she was an attractive one.

“y/n,” jiwon whispers, “is the answer x equals to negative five?”

you look up from your worksheet, for which you had doodled ahn yujin’s familiar smirk and quickly covered it.

“no. my answer is positive five. i think you made a mistake in the quadratic formula,” you explain, taking a peek at jiwon’s working. jiwon frowns and a shadow appears next to your desk.

the shadow actually startles you slightly. since the end of year examinations were nearing, lessons meant for teaching content were swapped to self-study sessions. normally, not a single person would move around, in fear of jeopardising their grades to fool around with friends.

thus, you were extremely confused as to why ahn yujin stood next to your table, eyes crinkling in a smile.

“hi,” she says, “i wanted to ask, how did you get a positive five for your answer?”

you can only stare at her in shock. due to her scholarship being on the line, you had thought yujin would have the top students tutoring her, as she had to keep an average of 70% for every semester.

so why was she talking to you now? wasn’t jang wonyoung a better option to ask?

“uhm, i think you forgot to…” you stare at her worksheet, “times 2 to the denominator.”

yujin’s eyes widen and you can’t lie that it’s adorable. jiwon shifts next to you nervously and you place a hand over hers, comforting her nerves.

“thanks! i owe you one!”

“oh… there’s no need…”

before you can even complete your sentence, she bounces back to her seat and smiles brightly at you. a quick whip of your head faces you with jiwon.

“did ahn yujin just talk to you?” she mumbles.

you rub the back of your neck, “i guess she did.”

for the first time in three years, you felt your feelings of infatuation resurface. ahn yujin, the girl at the top of your school’s social pyramid, just talked to you? and looked adorable while doing it?

and what does she mean by ‘she owes you’?

you just hoped it wouldn’t interfere with your studies. yujin was an enigma, one that would need countless hours of observation and detailed assessments to figure out her true colours. was her playboy act all a facade? or was this nice and cute classmate that you had actually just another one of her acting personalities to get what she wanted?

there were so many questions in your head that you didn’t even notice the bell ringing.

jiwon pulls you up and links your arms together, flashing a smile which snaps you out of your daydream.

“let’s go meet rei,” she says. you nod in agreement and let yourself be pulled all the way to the cafeteria. only at the table, you realise that you had left your phone back in the classroom.

rei had soon joined the table and you stood up abruptly.

“i left my phone in class, i’ll be back soon!” you inform your friends who wave you off. a quick few steps and you had arrived back at the classroom. notably, it was empty as students had all crammed to the cafeteria for a quick break before going back into revision.

except for the trio that sat at the back.

you raise your eyebrows and instantly recognise the smirk and brown hair of ahn yujin. she had kim gaeul and jang wonyoung sitting beside her, both of which had questioning looks on their face.

without much thought, you were planning to just walk in and take your phone swiftly. yet, the mutter of your name had made you pause in your steps.

“what was that with y/n during class?” wonyoung asks, head tilting in curiosity.

“what was what?”

gaeul scoffs, “you definitely knew how to do that question.”

“hm, did i? didn’t i look more like a stupid jock just needing assistance from one of the top scorers?” yujin laughs.

“you literally have me, the actual top scorer. y/n isn’t so stupid to buy your whole act. she’s actually a challenge,” wonyoung says. despite them discussing your intelligence in the open, you felt pride simmer at wonyoung thinking you were too smart to fall for yujin’s tricks.

“watch me.”

“okay… if she agrees on a date by the end of this month,” gaeul picks at her fingernails, “lunch is on me for the rest of the year.”

yujin chuckles, “it’ll be too easy.”

“and don’t fall for her,” wonyoung adds.

“still easy. this will be the easiest bet of my life.”

you hear the chair scraping against the floor afterwards. still debating on whether to retrieve your phone, you decide to ponder on what the bet entailed for you.

so one, yujin was definitely still a jerk. two, you would have to agree to a date by the end of the month for her to win. and three, she had no idea that you knew of this secret agreement.

huh.

you smile, finally having the upper hand over yujin for once. maybe this bet would teach yujin a lesson and help you live out your young fantasies.

“y/n!” you almost instinctively start to walk faster at the sound of yujin’s voice. all eyes turned to look at you and jiwon’s grip on your wrist tightened.

“good morning,” you nod. in one hand, a chocolate milk carton and in the other, a chemistry textbook.

yujin smiles sheepishly at you, “i was wondering… were you free this afternoon to tutor me in chemistry? i heard you were the top student of our year—”

“i’m not. wonyoung is,” you reply firmly. yujin falters for a second before bouncing back, “she isn’t free today since she has student council duties. i already tried asking her!”

if you didn’t know about the bet, you genuinely would have believed her convincing act.

“ah, well, i’m not free today.”

“oh? why?”

you gesture to jiwon, “going on a date!”

at that point, you hadn’t realised the impact of your words. those four words changed the trajectory of your life.

“d-date?!” yujin gapes.

you thought she looked like a fish. meanwhile, jiwon was desperately trying to drag you away from the crowd that was forming to witness ahn yujin being rejected.

“yup. so i can’t help you,” you say and wave goodbye to yujin, who stays rooted to the ground, almost jaw-dropped. truly, this was amusing. her reaction was terribly funny, considering that she had never once in her life been rejected before. and for you to be the one to do so? amazing.

yet, jiwon didn’t find it funny and began cursing you for ruining her school year. once word got out that her best friend was the one who rejected yujin, she would not be able to live a peaceful life.

this cycle of rejection only continued despite jiwon’s attempts to hide you from yujin. the requests ranged from, “can you help me with calculus?” to, “there was a new tteokbokki store that opened near school, wanna go together?”

you soon realised that yujin was determined to win this bet. with the countless amount of sweet post-it notes taped to chocolate milk cartons that appeared on your desk every morning… how could you not?

yujin had willpower, you acknowledged that fact. it was just a shame that you had overheard the conversation. maybe she would have actually won the bet by now.

while you were gloating about yujin’s loss, the jock was almost heartbroken with the number of futile attempts.

“she just isn’t falling for it!” yujin exclaims.

wonyoung raises an eyebrow, “i told you she isn’t that stupid. and your methods are so lame.”

“i thought they were cute,” yujin sniffles, pouting. the mere thought of her not being able to persuade a girl was devastating. this would mess up her reputation! she wasn’t the one who chased others!

“you’re not winning this bet,” gaeul states, snickering at yujin’s misfortune.

yujin, despite their claims, was still persistent in trying to get a date. it didn’t matter what she needed to do, she would do it. anything to win this bet.

she couldn’t lose her hard-built reputation as a heartbreaker. that was crazy. if she had to get down on her knees to beg…

well yujin might just consider it.

unbeknownst to the things yujin would do for a date with you, you walk with jiwon peacefully, almost reaching the front gate when your best friend halts.

“ah,” jiwon says out of the blue, “I can’t go home with you today. i need to show the new exchange students around school.” you frown but nodded anyway.

“i’ll see you tomorrow then?” you ask. jiwon sends a smile and quickly walks back to the school doors. you sigh, taking out your airpods when a tap on your shoulder spins you around.

ahn yujin again.

“hi,” she flashes a grin, “mind if i walk with you?”

“don’t you normally go that way?” you point in the opposite direction. yujin turns her head and laughs, “so you’ve been observing me?”

you think for a moment. “no, but your fanclub is waiting there for you.”

like you said, a group of girls and boys alike were standing at the other gate, eyes darting around for yujin. she tilts her head, reminiscent of your puppy back at home, and says, “i’m walking this way so i don’t get bombarded by them.”

“fair enough,” you take out your airpods again and try to drown out yujin’s attempts at conversation.

“hey!” she continuously taps you on the shoulder. you ignore her.

“don’t ignore me!” you do that.

“y/n-ssi..!”

ugh. you think. who the hell said that yujin was like a puppy? (you.) she was more like a parrot that couldn’t shut up.

“yujin-ssi,” you huff, “keep quiet.”

said girl just turns to you with a pout. eyes glistening with hope when you falter ever so slightly. with a sigh, you take out your airpods and raise an eyebrow.

“okay, i won’t ignore you anymore.”

“great! i was wondering,” yujin pauses, a hint of hesitation in her voice that you’ve never heard before, “do you wanna grab lunch together? wonyoung heard from jiwon that you liked the cafe nearby, i’ll pay.”

your voice wavers, “uh, sure.” no one could blame you; your favourite cafe paired with a free meal? anyone would have accepted (regardless of the puppy-like girl who shrieked in excitement).

“great!” yujin discreetly grabs your wrist, pulling you to walk faster. slightly taken aback, you willingly let yourself be pulled away.

on the way there, the typically chirpy yujin doesn’t say a word and instead keeps quiet. it’s only until you both find a seat in the cafe that she speaks up.

“y/n-ssi, do you hate me or something?” you watch as the jock twirls the fork in her hand, eyes gleaming with curiosity. perhaps she’s never experienced being rejected before.

“you’re just too much for me.”

“oh? what do you mean by that?”

you choose your next words wisely, “it’s a bit strange to have someone popular talk to someone so mediocre.”

yujin’s head snaps up, fury in her eyes. you think she’s about to storm out, offended by your words. yet, she grasps your hands into hers, passionately saying, “how could you be mediocre?! y/n-ssi, you’re like the most intelligent person in our grade, and you’re super nice and helpful too!”

you feel relieved. her outburst was just defending you. giggles escape your lips as you reply back, “nice and helpful? after rejecting you so often?”

the sight of yujin’s cheeks being flushed makes you marvel. it’s a rare sight to see the jock so flustered. she’s usually so composed and witty.

“ah… i was a bit insistent and annoying, i understand why y/n-ssi avoided me…” yujin mumbles shyly, letting your hands drop onto the table. your hands feel cold without yujin’s warmth but you quickly diminish that thought.

stop it, yujin is just playing with you.

you straighten up naturally, catching yourself before replying with anything flirty. you had to remember that yujin’s primary reason for talking to you was because of the bet.

unfortunately for you, yujin notices your change in demeanour.

“are you okay?”

“yeah,” you eye her carefully, “i’m just hungry.”

yujin sends you a toothy grin and starts another conversation. you end up talking about her puppy, azzo, her ice hockey training and your art portfolio before the food arrives. you realise even though ahn yujin was a stereotypical jock, she was probably smarter than most.

“y/n-ssi, can i call you unnie?”

you raise your eyebrow, “how do you know my birthday?”

yujin looks startled. frazzled, she quickly replies, “i just asked wonyoung… she’s close friends with jiwon…!”

“doing background checks on me?” you say, stuffing your mouth with the red velvet cake in front of you.

“no… maybe, yes? i was just curious!”

“you just want to talk informally, don’t you, yujin?”

the jock bows her head down, you hate how you find it cute.

“yeah… you caught me.”

you smile, “okay, you can call me unnie.”

it’s like yujin just won the lottery with the way she’s grinning. you would tease her even more but it’s better not to get attached to her.

after this month, she wouldn’t even bat an eye at you.

soon, you finish up your cake and yujin does too. when paying, you sense yujin’s impatience and chalk it off to being her realising that you wouldn’t wield so easily. shrugging it off, you try your best to make a quick exit before yujin drags you to somewhere else again.

after paying, you swiftly leave the cafe, only to be caught in yujin’s grasp again.

“unnie, can we exchange contact info?” her eyes are shining now. you hesitantly nod and hand her your phone.

yujin 🐶 [4.38pm]:

yn unnie! ^^

“there! i sent you a message,” yujin exclaims, “where’s your house? i’ll walk you home!”

“huh?! no… yujin, you should go home, i can walk by myself…”

the puppy-like girl only pouts. you’re mostly helpless to her, unable to really say no to a face like hers.

“unnie, i need to know if you reached home safely! bad guys would obviously kidnap a girl as pretty as you!” yujin scoffs. you try to hide your blush as you finally nod again.

yujin brightens up and takes your hand into hers, “let’s go!”

you feel bad for the younger girl; she was usually the one who played with other people’s feelings and now, she didn’t even realise that she’s the one getting played with. you wonder if yujin has ever seen the aftermath of her entertainment. would she be shocked that she caused someone so much pain? or would she just laugh?

the closer you got to your doorstep, the more you didn’t want to leave yujin. fuck, you think, that’s a bad sign.

how did yujin manage to attract you in only a day?

what the hell type of sorcery was she using?

“thank you for walking me home,” you bow, “send me a text when you get home too.” yujin nods but she stares at you expectantly. maybe she wanted you to invite her into your house?

that wasn’t going to happen though.

“uhm,” you mumble unintelligently. not even giving it a second thought, you quickly plant a kiss on yujin’s cheek and run into your house, slamming the door behind you.

what the fuck! you and yujin both think, your hand covering your mouth, shocked that you even did that. meanwhile, yujin traces the outline of your lips on her cheek with her fingertips, her face resembling a tomato the longer she stands outside your door.

yujin 🐶 [5.02pm]:

unnie…? ㅠㅠ

yn unnie 🤍 [5.03pm]:

IM SINSORYR

I DID IT WITHOUT THINKJNG

yujin 🐶 [5.03pm]:

ure too mean…

kissing me then slamming the door

yn unnie 🤍 [5.03pm]:

im sorry yuj

yujin 🐶 [5.04pm]:

ur lips r so soft tho?

do u use the laniege lip mask? ㅋㅋ

yn unnie 🤍 [5.04pm]:

what are u saying…

go home…

yujin 🐶 [5.04pm]:

yes ma’am!

(￣^￣)ゞ

ah fuck, you flop onto the couch, cheeks aflame, ahn yujin, i think you’re winning that bet.

it’s an early morning, gaeul hums happily, bathing in the sunlight. sometimes she’s glad that she has the window seat, when the sun rises and sets, she gets to watch it all. other times she’s not so grateful. like when it rains heavily and the raindrops splash at her.

life is great—

“yah, kim gaeul.”

the girl opens her eyes, facing an irritating sight; an ashamed ahn yujin. she only looked like that when her suitors yell at her, or when her mother nags her for her grades.

having known yujin for years, it was probably the former.

“which girl was it now?” gaeul huffs.

“y/n unnie.”

gaeul almost falls off her chair, did yujin win the bet? already worrying about her pocket money for the year, gaeul ignores everything yujin says, not until she hears, “i want to call the bet off.”

“what?!” she shrieks, “she didn’t agree to a date?”

yujin shakes her head, deflated but not for the reasons you’d imagine.

“i didn’t ask her on one,” she explains, “because… it didn’t feel right to do something so reckless.”

gaeul widens her eyes, naturally gesturing for yujin to continue. how could something like asking a girl on a date scare yujin? it was second nature to her at this point!

“asking y/n unnie on a date…” yujin’s gaze feels dreamy now and gaeul thinks she’s staring at a different person, “ah… it feels wrong to do it now..?”

“why? you wanted to win the bet though?”

yujin’s gaze hardens, “the bet isn’t as important as her.”

“y-yujin?! you’re saying that…”

“gaeul unnie, i like y/n.”

there’s no need to further explain. ahn yujin, the typical high school jock, falling for a girl that she only talked to for her own entertainment. how did she even manage to fall for you? yujin doesn’t know it herself. maybe it was after that day at the cafe, when you actually showed interest in her life. maybe it was the many online conversations you had with her, talking about mundane things. maybe it was the first day you locked eyes, yujin subconsciously always kept an eye on you afterwards.

or maybe it was all of that combined.

you tap your feet nervously on the bench. after you had kissed yujin’s cheek, she always brought it up, genuinely asking why your lips were so soft or even boldly declaring that she wanted another. maybe because it was rare for you to be so affectionate. even with jiwon and rei, skinship wasn’t so common. honestly, you weren’t sure what you were even doing with yujin. after many midnight conversations, you would consider you two friends. or perhaps even close friends.

yujin had forced you to wait for her to finish practice so she could walk you home. it was almost a routine at that point. there was some speculation of you two dating and you could imagine how happy that made yujin feel. yet mysteriously, yujin hadn’t made any super flirtatious advancements on you. the month was ending soon and the bet would end in her loss. so why wasn’t she doing anything? (not that you wanted her to do anything).

“y/n,” you turn your head. why on earth was kim gaeul and jang wonyoung staring at you from behind?

“yes…?”

the two girls glance at each other and rush up to you. you were currently standing outside yujin’s ice rink, watching her play hockey with her teammates. sometimes while playing a game, she would score and send you a wink. even through the helmet, you could see her mouth, ‘this is for you!’ it was embarrassing and cheesy but you still ended up flustered, covering your red face with your hair.

“we have something we need to tell you,” wonyoung starts off.

gaeul nods earnestly, “we’re very sorry but…”

you realise where this is going.

“ah, is this about the bet you guys and yujin made about me?”

wonyoung and gaeul both have their mouths agape, eyebrows furrowed. you almost laugh at their reaction.

“h-how did you know?!”

“i overheard you guys that day, i was going to get my phone but then i heard my name. sorry for eavesdropping.”

“no! we should be sorry for making that bet! but, if you already knew about it, why are you still hanging out with yujin?” wonyoung asks.

you chuckle, “i just wanted to see what she was planning to do. it was plain curiosity.”

“ah! but yujin likes you!” gaeul blurts out.

huh…?

“what?!”

“yeah! she told me a few days ago, that’s why she called the bet off,” the girl says. wonyoung groans, muttering about how gaeul shouldn’t have revealed that.

you absentmindedly say, “i like her too…”

the subject of your conversation immediately butts in, “you like who?”

you instantly clamp your mouth shut, heartbeat in your ears as you turn to face yujin. luckily you weren’t so out of it yet, if you were, you wouldn’t be able to control blurting out how handsome yujin looked in her gear. even brushing the ice off her jersey looked attractive to you.

“gaeul unnie, isn’t it time for us to leave?” wonyoung briskly drags gaeul out of the ice rink, leaving just you and yujin inside.

“aren’t you going to change?” you ask, facing a different direction from the jock before she manages to fluster you.

“i saw my two idiot friends talking to you, so i came here first,” she says, plopping down on the bench too.

“what were you guys even talking about?”

“oh… we were, uhm,” you stare at your lap, on top, your fingers playing with each other.

yujin senses you hesitate and places a hand on top of yours, holding it tightly.

“talking about… the bet you made about me,” you gulp, anticipating a huge, overblown reaction. you close your eyes but you don’t hear anything from yujin.

the silence begins to become worrying and you open your eyes, only to see yujin barely breathing, her eyes blown open and a pale face.

“unnie, i’m so sorr—”

“i’m not mad!” you quickly say, “i sort of had a crush on you on the first day of school, so having you interested in me, regardless of the bet, i mean, it made me feel good.”

“you had a crush on me?” yujin questions.

“yeah? like a hallway crush.”

“you’re seriously not mad about the bet?”

you shrug, “i was at first. but then your friends told me something.”

the girl’s body becomes stiff, more stiff than when you told her about your knowledge of the bet.

“they told me you like me, that’s what we were talking about before you came over,” you turn to her, “yujin-ah, is it true?”

yujin nods shyly.

“they’re so annoying… i wanted to have this cool confession but, ugh, unnie, i really wasn’t expecting myself to like you. is it crazy to say i’m happy that i made that bet? because it let me become closer to you?”

“yujin, before i accept your confession…” her eyes light up again, “can you tell me why you treated all those girls like that?”

“you mean…”

“you played with their hearts, how can i be sure that you won’t play with mine?” you ask.

yujin sighs, “honestly, i don’t know either but unnie, i need you to trust me that i like you a lot. i like you so much that i don’t know how to live through a day without thinking about you. everytime i experience something, i want to share it with you. please let me show my love for you.”

love… you smile, gently removing yujin’s helmet.

“you’re already thinking about love?”

yujin’s hair is unkempt, her bangs are swept messily, blocking her eyes slightly. yet, you can still see the whole galaxy in her eyes.

reaching out for her jaw, you pull her closer.

“ahn yujin, if you ever play with me, you’re dead.”

your lips are almost touching and you can feel her breath. almost panting already, yujin breathes out.

“there’s no point living if you’re not by my side.”

#ive #ive x reader #ahn yujin x reader #yujin x reader #ive yujin

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sugurusfavemonkey · 5 days ago

Text

A Helping Hand (Part 2) read part 1 here summary: after a long winding wait you and Gojo finally take your relationship to bed the next level. pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader word count: 4.5k warnings: MDNI; fluff and love confessions, cursing, oral (female receiving), creampie (this is a work of fiction, wrap it before you tap it irl!); rough s&x; canon divergence - both Gojo and reader are over 18 when Gojo takes in the Fushiguro siblings.

a/n: I lied, put your clothes back on... we're going on a fluff ride (roughly 1.6k words) before the sexy bits make an appearance (the other 2.9k), because, apparently, I cannot control myself once I start writing.

Unfortunately for you and Gojo, things did NOT progress as expected that night.

Tsumiki insisted they should help you with the cleaning after dinner and dessert and then launched into an animated retelling of the debate club happenings earlier that day as she dutifully dried the dishes you handed her.

It was many hours later before the kids finally were ready for bed.

You put both of them to their beds with a parting forehead kiss for each - the embarrassed blush on Megumi's cheeks never failing in making you chuckle.

By then you were exhausted, hand covering a big yawn that had Satoru laughing.

He threw his arm over your shoulders, using the leverage to pull you away from the kids' bedroom as he closed the door behind you with his other hand.

"Tired, sweets?"

"Completely wiped." you admitted, letting your head fall onto his shoulder, the realization of just how well you fit under his arm making you giddy "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Well, I guess I just wanted to have a wild night of rowdy pleasure with my new boyfriend, but I can't even fathom the idea of keeping up with his stamina right now."

"This boyfriend of yours sounds like a dream." Satoru's casual comment made you snort with constrained laughter. The man really had the greatest ego you'd ever seen.

"Except when he's being a self-centered dimwit." You tried to untangle yourself from under his arm, but Satoru had a different idea. You momentarily thought you were falling until the realization that he had reached his free arm underneath your knees and picked you up before you had time to protest set. A yelp of surprise the only noise you managed to release as you threw your own arms around his neck for support.

"I'm sure he has good reason to think so highly of himself." Satoru spoke as he rearranged his hold to support your weight with one arm under your rear in an impromptu display of strength, so he could open the door to the other bedroom.

"Stop praising yourself, Gojo." You chastised, but there was no heat behind your words.

He kicked the door shut behind yourselves as soon as you crossed the threshold. "Nuh-uh. That's Satoru to you. We went over that already."

"Not when you're being insufferable, no." Your words were barely discernible through the yawn you let out as you let yourself relax against him.

"Hmm. Let's get you to bed, sweets."

"Yeah? You gonna do unspeakable things to me in the master bedroom, Gojo?" Your words were slurred, breath fanning teasingly against his neck, eyelids heavy with sleep.

"It's Satoru," he insisted, "and no. Not tonight. Even though I'd like nothing else than just taking you, you're so sleepy you sound drunk right now."

"Look at you being all gentlemanly. I though Nanami was the last one left of those."

"Why are you bringing up Nanamin when we're talking about sex?!" Satoru sounded absolutely disgusted at the notion and you would probably have laughed at that if you had the energy to do so.

"You jealous?" you hummed, eyes already closed.

"Pfff! As if I had any reason to be jealous of that emo nerd."

"I don't know... I think he has his charms." just as you finished uttering the words Satoru unceremoniously dropped you on the bed, "what the fuck, Satoru?!"

"That's for talking about other men in my presence." He huffed, a cute pout on his lips.

"Oh my god, Satoru! Are you really going to be that much of a possessive boyfriend? What did I even get myself into?" There was no way you were letting him live his near tantrum at the mere mention of Nanami down.

"Too late to back off now, sweets." He playfully stated, leaning over you teasingly before dropping to the other side of the bed and making you bounce on the mattress again.

You turned your head, staring at his annoyingly perfect side profile as he brought his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. You mused his words for a second, focusing specifically on the nickname he used. The pet name Satoru had always used when referring to you

"Why do you always call me that?" Though you always wondered the nickname's origins that was the first time you proffered the question aloud.

"You know how much I love my sweets." His matter-of-fact demeanor threw you in for a loop.

"Who would have thought you could be so corny? I'm serious, Satoru."

"So am I," he turned his head to face you as well, "I think I've loved from the moment we've met." his small confession has your heart stuttering in your chest, your smile faltering a bit at the vulnerability etched to that simple whispered phrase.

"Now, that just can't be true. If I remember correctly, you called me weak and said I'd never be able to keep up with you and Su-" you cut yourself off before you said something that would potentially strike a sour note in an otherwise wholesome occasion.

Still, you weren't fast enough. You saw the moment Satoru's face fell, his expression becoming somber. He looked away from you and cleared his throat.

"Yeah, well... everyone is weak compared to me."

You sighed bitterly, annoyed at yourself for spoiling the moment.

The heavy silence that fell over you begged to be ruptured, so you did just that:

"I shouldn't ha-"

"You're not-"

Apparently Satoru had the same idea because the both of you started at the same time, pausing once you realized the other was also talking. Satoru was the one to break the repeated tense quiet following the sudden standstill:

"I was wrong. You're not weak. You never were." his voice was quiet, serious. So different to his usual laidback disposition. It was a night for many firsts, it seemed.

"I mean, I'll never really get anywhere near your level." You shrugged, showing you understood his point.

"Still. You are strong. You're efficient and resourceful. And you care. You care so much sometimes I'm scared you'll wear yourself thin." Somehow you knew he wasn't just talking about your prowess as a sorcerer. "Just like- just like him."

"Satoru. Baby. Look at me." You pleaded, turned your entire body this time and tenderly grasped his chin, coaxing him into looking your way once more.

"I'm not leaving." You stared intently into his impossibly blue eyes as you made the vow. "You won't get rid of me that easily."

His hand found yours on his face and gently entwined your fingers before guiding them to his lips, where he placed a soft kiss to your knuckles.

You're not sure if he ever said anything in reply because you soon doze off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

Satoru was no longer in bed with you when you woke up the next morning to a chime on your phone.

You sighed and sprawled onto your back, hand skimming over your face to find creases in the shape of the ruffled pillowcase under your head and a bit of dried drool at the corner of your lips before finally picking up the offending gadget to find 4 new messages from one strongest hoe🫸🟣:

Leave it to Satoru to make you go from embarrassed to delighted in less than a minute.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You spent the rest of your Saturday with Megumi and Tsumiki, thankful you weren't summoned for anything. You were suspicious that had something to do with Gojo, he probably took on more curses just to spare you - it would explain the two whole days of a job when he usually handled curses in less than a minute.

Sunday came around and Satoru called you by noon, letting you know he threatened the elders into leaving the two of you free at least up until Monday and also asked Shoko to watch over the kids for the night.

"Huh. The damn curse is tougher than I thought. Gotta go finish this. See ya tonight. Love ya, sweets!" He ended the call before you even processed his words, your heart skipping a beat.

。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。

You had left Tsumiki and Megumi back at the apartment in Saitama with Shoko and went back to your own home in Tokyo to get ready for your first date with Satoru a few hours before.

The clock had just hit 7pm and you were anxiously pacing the living room back and forth when there was a knock to your door. Your feet carried you forward without you even noticing, still lost inside your own head.

"I love you." You snapped as soon as you opened the door for him, immediately regretting the outburst at Satoru's smug face.

"That would have been awkward if it wasn't me. What happened to hello?" He laughed extending the bouquet of red roses in his hands to you.

"You fucking hung up on me before I could say it back and this has been hammering in my head ever since." you explained with a small shrug, cheeks going warm in spite of your attempt at nonchalance as you took the offered flowers to arrange them in a vase.

You put the arrangement on the center of your dinning room table after filling a priori empty container with water from the kitchen sink and it wasn't until his hands found your waist and Satoru welded his chest you back that you realized he has followed close behind you as you moved.

"Say that again." his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, warm breath causing a shiver to run down your spine, your hands falling to the table for support when your knees wobbled.

"Say what exactly?"

"Don't tease me, sweets." His warm lips leisurely glided down with each word. You gasped, head falling back against his shoulder and leaving your neck open to the butterfly kisses he purposefully left to the column of your throat.

"I l-love you, Satoru." You mumbled brokenly.

His grasp on your waist went impossibly tight, his breath stuttering and a low groan erupting from his chest.

"You have no idea what you do to me, sweets."

He sounded absolutely wrecked and the knowledge that you were the one causing Gojo Satoru to lose his cool made you throw your caution to the wind. You pushed your hips back against him and, sure enough, you can feel his hardness pressing back into you.

"Hmm. I think I may have an idea." You crooned teasingly.

"Brat!" He reward your taunt with a bite to the junction of your shoulder to your neck, immediately followed by his tongue lapping away at the harsh sting.

You stretched one arm backwards, hand reaching for the short hair on the nape of his neck as he relentlessly attacked your neck.

"I love you so fucking much, sweets. Have I mentioned how fucking stunning you look right now? I mean, you're always hot, but this look... I just wanna bend you over and fuck you right on this table." there was something nearly unhinged to the way he babbled, like those words had been stuck at his throat for too long and he was finally letting loose.

"And what's stopping you?"

"I don't know, maybe the reservation I made for our dinner in 30 minutes." Even though Satoru tried to stop your advances, the way his hips kept lazily rocking against yours sent a different message. He nuzzled against your neck, inhaling the sweet perfume you sprayed just for him and mumbling something about how you smell good enough to eat under his breath.

"I can't think of a lot of things we can accomplish in 30 minutes."

"Ugh! You'll be the death of me. I'm trying to be responsible for once here!" He nearly whined.

You turned around in his grasp and had to crane your head to look into his eyes with the way he looms over you "Gojo. I don't need you to be responsible or a fancy restaurant date to make this real. I think we're way past that anyway. I just need you."

He seemed conflicted, eyes searching yours through the dark lenses of the sunglasses still perched to his nose.

"Please."

"Fuck it." Your last plea was all it took to break his resolve.

In a flash, Satoru had hoisted you up and sat you at the edge of the table, slotting himself in between your parted legs and lips taking yours possessively, his tongue shoving itself into your mouth, savoring your taste. His hands were suddenly all over you, sliding and grabbing at you like he owns you. You readily opened up for him.

When you finally did part ways, you felt his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip. He stared at the skin, glistening with your mixed saliva in a daze for a moment before his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

"I wanna taste you. Will you let me taste you, sweets?" Satoru's hands found and toyed with the button to your pants, eyes begging silently for your assent.

You nodded mutely, throat suddenly dry.

The green light you gave was all the encouragement he needed to drop to his knees, finger dexterously popping open the button and sliding down the zipper before nearly pawing the offending piece of clothing down your legs. Satoru didn't have the patience to remove your boots, so the cloth remained bunched up at your ankles. He nibbled at the skin of your inner thigh, slowly inching closer to where you needed him the most.

"'toru!" You whined, letting yourself fall back against the table, head knocking loudly against the wood.

"What is it, sweets? What do you want."

"Touch me!"

"But I am touching you."

"You little- Aw!" You complained when he bit into your thigh as a warning, head lifting from the table to glare half-heartedly at the man in between your thighs.

"Watch it." Satoru alerted, a dangerous glint to his electric blue eyes.

"Ugh. Fine." You relented, not wanting to test him that night. You'd have plenty of time for that on other occasion. "Touch my pussy, Satoru."

"Have you no manners?" He rested his cheek against your thigh, his earlier rush hidden beneath his commitment to have you begging for him.

"Pleas- Oh my god!" You bellowed when he finally dove in, practically french kissing your pussy. His tongue easily found your clit, making random shapes against the bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars behind closed eyelids.

He moaned loudly and shamelessly when your hand found purchase on his soft white hair, encouraging you to pull harder as his own fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs.

Satoru let go of your hips to hitch your legs up, spread your thighs wider and then one of his hands roamed down until he's brushing your entrance, whining pathetically at the slick that gathered on the finger prodding at your hole. The muscles on your thighs tightened in response and you forced yourself up on your elbows so you could take the delicious show playing out down there.

His free hand reached underneath your sweater, slowly gliding upwards, finger teasing the edge of your bra while his mouth changed its path and traveled up and under your sweater, kissing, licking, nibbling at the skin of your tummy and ribs. The comical sight of his head disappearing beneath the warm fabric had a giggle bubbling up at his silliness, but the feeling of the pad of his thumb striking wet and sticky across your clit draws out a sound deep from your chest instead, something sweet and guttural that made Satoru wish he could record to hear over and over again.

Gojo pulled your bra down and didn't waste a second before taking one of your nipples in his warm mouth at the same time he pressed his ring and middle finger into you, curling them upwards to touch that sweet spot and thumb rocking against your clit with each thrust of his hand. You were squirming as he pressed down on your clit just hard enough. A cry left your lips as the fingers of his other hand pinched your nipple.

His actions made it seem as if he's not sure where to touch first, like a man starved, Satoru needs to feel all of you.

Without warning, he popped out from under the sweater, raising himself up and using both hands to reach for the offending piece of clothing and pulling it up and off of you before reaching behind your back for the clasp of your bra. You sat up again to help him remove it as he slid the straps down your arms.

"You're so hot." Satoru sounded winded, wide eyes traveling all over your body in awe.

"Toru. I need you, please." You begged when you could no longer take his gawking.

Satoru smirked deviously and you nearly regretted pleading with him, knowing he was scheming something.

"I Got you, sweets" was all he said before abruptly picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, hand smacking your ass with a resounding slap sound. Your shriek only making him laugh. "Let's move this to bed so I can fuck you into the mattress."

Soon you joined in on his laughter even as he jolted you around. Just as it has always been, Satoru had a way of making any moment with you lighter.

When you reached your bedroom he thoughtfully placed you on the mattress, kneeling by the bed to help you with your boots and finally remove the pants and underwear that has still been stuck at your ankles up until then.

Once you were completely bare you expected him to do the same. Instead, he passed you by and sat down against the headboard, patting his lap excitedly when you twisted around to follow his movements with a curious gaze.

"You're still too dressed, Toru." You frowned.

"Yeah, and? Come here before I make you, brat."

Even though you were unsure of what he had planned, you trusted Satoru enough to do as he told you to. You got up and walked around the bed, slightly sheepish at your state of undress, but the astonished look on his face gave you enough confidence to move forward.

You went to sit on his lap, but Gojo was faster, hands picking you up by your waist and settling you down, knees on each side of his legs, so you have no choice but to settle your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself balanced.

Satoru hummed in delight as he pushed you back and forth until you got the idea. You braced your hands against his chest, your hips taking up the rocking against his hard length through his dress pants, your bare slit dripping all over his bulge.

“That’s it, sweets,” Satoru grunted, eyes hungrily following your movement “Get yourself nice and wet and ready for me. Rub your sweet little cunt all over my cock.” At his urging, you rolled your hips harder, eyes falling closed as you took your pleasure from his body.

Your knees spread even further so you could press down on him harder, your slick staining his pants.

When you opened your eyes, you found Satoru's blue stare already on you, an overjoyed smile etched onto his face.

"I'm gonna fuck you so deep you're gonna be feeling me for weeks."

You moaned at the dark promise, unconsciously speeding up your hips as your hands grasped the lapels of his shirt in tight fists.

"Does the thought turn you on, sweets?" His hips thrust up from below, forcing another moan from your lips. "Having your pussy so abused you can still feel it for days on end afterwards?"

“Oh god,” you moaned, letting your head loll back. But Satoru wasn’t having none of that. He brought his hand to your throat, tugging your head until you had no choice but to meet his blazing gaze.

"Hmmm... I wanna feel you, Toru." You sobbed, desperate for more. “I need it—I need you, please.”

In an instant, Satoru had pushed you onto your back, one of his hands pinning you to the bed by your throat as he forcefully snapped his hips against yours, your head towards the foot of the bed.

You reached up, yanking at the buttons of his shirt and pulling it free from his slacks with a hushed demanding "off."

"I should have know you would be bossy even when underneath me." He chuckled, letting go of you momentarily to shrug off the shirt. Meanwhile, you went for his belt, deft fingers unbuckling it before unbuttoning and pulling the zipper on his pants down. "Eager much?"

"Satoru. We've been dancing around each other for years, you can't blame me for being impatient now."

"Trust me. I get it." He licked his lips, eyes damn near burning a path through your skin as his gaze travelled your form. "You have no idea how many times I've pictured you just like that, naked and wet for me."

"Yeah? You jacked off to the thought of me?" Your pleased smile was not lost on him.

"Like I said, so many times." Satoru admitted unashamedly. "And I gotta say... the real thing is even better than I imagined."

You wanted to giggle at the notion the both of you had unknowingly been pining for each other at the same time for so long, but the sound got stuck in your throat when he finally bared himself to you.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of him bare. You watched intently as he hastily stood up to kick off his shoes before pushing his pants, underwear and socks down and throwing it all behind himself. Revealing corded thighs and a magnificent long, twitching cock, so big you were glad you were wet and ready for him.

A soft smirk played on your lips as he leaned over you, one knee between your legs, arms caging you in against the comforter.

He gripped his cock and rubbed the bulbous tip up and down your slit, teasing your clit and making you whimper. You rocked your hips up against his dick, trying to find the angle to take him inside you. When that didn’t work, you resorted to begging, whimpering, “I'm so empty. I need you inside me, please Toru."

"Yeah, want me to fill you up sweets?"

You nodded, tangling your legs behind him and attempting to draw him in. For once in your life, you cursed his superior strength, because he sure was having a great time making you desperate for his cock.

“Toru,” you cried with a gasp, your arms around his neck trying to pull him closer, "Please!”

"Since you asked so nicely..."

Satoru captured your lips, pouring his passion and desire for you into a searing kiss. As his lips slid against yours, he pressed the tip against your entrance.

He drank down your sounds of pleasure as he pushed inside you, inch by inch. You broke away with a gasp when it became too much.

"You're taking me so well, sweets." He mumbled almost incoherently.

Brows knitted and thighs trembling, your eyes didn’t leave his as you basked in the shattering, yet sublimely pleasurable sensation, slowly allowing yourself to relax around him.

Gentle caresses of his thumb to your tight nub made you feel like the smallest push could tip you over edge and into ecstasy. Tight circles that didn't relent until he could bury himself inside you entirely, the air getting punched out of your lungs once he bottomed out.

"Fuck. So tight for me." Satoru remarked with a low moan at the feeling of your walls firmly hugging his dick. "You good?" He checked when you didn't say anything.

"Y-yeah. You can move."

He started off slow but worked up to a gentle but intense rhythm soon enough, wanting you to be comfortable above anything else.

"You feel so fucking good." Satoru praised, one hand moving to hold onto your wrists and push them together against the bed above your head.

"Satoru. Don't stop. Please, don't stop." You begged.

"Don't worry." He rasped, "I don't plan to stop any time soon." timing the words with each frantic drive of his hips, gradually picking up speed until you felt his heavy sack slapping feverishly against you.

His girth stretched you out and filled you to the brink with each hard stroke until there were tears trickling down your cheeks as you drowned in the overwhelming pleasure of it.

"You crying?" Satoru quipped, peering down at you with a smirk.

You swore you would have slapped him if your hands weren't being held down by the very man torturing you with delectation. You couldn't even respond, only unintelligible garble spilling past your lips.

"What? Have a fucked you dumb, sweets?"

Instead of allowing you time to recoup, Satoru gave into whatever restraint had been holding him back and lost himself in the pleasure of your warmth, thrusting with abandon. He just kept going until your moans turned into cries, the lewd and sloppy sonance of your coupling reverberating throughout the otherwise quiet room. His free hand rubbing at your clit and, too fast for your liking, sending your body straight to cloud nine.

Satoru let his forehead rest against yours while he rutted into your body.

The pleasure you felt so grand it had you unconsciously trying to scoot away, but Satoru was unwavering in his foraging, "Nuh-uh, come back here." he mumbled, dropping kiss after kiss to your lips.

"I-I can't. It's too much. Too bi-big!"

"You can do it, sweets. You're doing so-" He moaned, "good. You can give me one more. C'mon."

The grasp keeping your hands in place relented as his fingers extended, entwining with yours and making the experience that much more meaningful.

Your free hand went straight to his back, nails finding residence sliding down his back, a move which rewarded you with a hiss from the white haired sorcerer. Your legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs helped you meet him thrust for thrust, the two of you writhing together in a frenzy.

He looked at you like you were something meant to be cherished, his lips finding yours with wordless devotion, his tongue slipping into your mouth to slide against yours decadently.

It wasn't long before your eyes were rolling back into your skull and you sensed your thighs begin to tremble once more as you fell over the edge, white heat running through your veins and stars exploding in your vision. Satoru let go once he felt your walls fluttering widely against his cock and buried himself inside with a final thrust forward, warm ropes of cum painting your insides as he traded the firm motions of his thumb with a gentle bit of contact and, finally, halting it all to a complete standstill.

He fell forward, but still made sure not to completely crush you against the bed in a sweaty and jumbled pile.

Your thighs were still quivering when Satoru slid out of you and turned the both of you around so you lied on top of him, his fingers brushing against the skin of your back soothingly.

"Holy fuck." it's all you can say at first.

"Second that."

And then you're both laughing breathlessly, because there's so much love and happiness and oxytocin laden in that moment that you just feel high on it.

"I can't believe we haven't done this before." Satoru chortled, dropping a tender kiss to your head. "How am I suppose to get anything done now?"

"Get your head out of the gutter!" You chastised half-heatedly "I need some time to recover in between sessions. Speaking of which... I'm kinda hungry right now. Is it too late for that reservation now?"

"By nearly two hours, I'd say."

"Whatever. We can just order in."

a/n: this was much harder than I thought it would be to write. How do smut writers do it regularly??

#mavi writes #gojo x reader #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff

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runariya · 2 months ago

Note

One shot where jk is a virgin and he loses his V card to the popular girl OC and they fall in love. School/uni base setting.

part of the prompt game pairing: virgin nerd!Jungkook x popular!female reader genre: university!AU, S2L, fluff, smut warnings: pining, love at first sight, fluff, JK's a virgin, OC thinks JK is a fuckboy, smut, fingering, early male orgasm, switch in POV from JK to OC, slow fluffy protected sex, OC is on top, fluff, fluff, fluff, love confessions, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 1.618

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If he could write a symphony for you, he definitely would.

He’d tell the strings and trumpets to play as beautifully as heaven would, as it let you descend to earth to grace him with your presence.

But Jungkook simply can’t.

Not just because he doesn’t know a thing about writing a symphony, but because you’re plainly and agonisingly out of his league. He’s also pretty sure you don’t even know his name, despite being in the same major since freshman year, sharing every single class, day in and day out.

Jungkook’s been in love with you since the moment he first saw you—the popular, humble girl surrounded by hundreds of friends and three times as many admirers. And there’s no way, not even if hell froze over, that he, the officially crowned nerd of the university, will ever have the honour of even speaking to you.

Though that hasn’t stopped him from admiring you from afar, or even—something he’d never, ever admit—rubbing one out just because your eyes grazed his for a split second.

It’s a bit of a shock that, after being convinced by his friends to join them at a frat party one Saturday night, not only is he in the same room as you, but he’s sitting on this overly worn couch, chatting with you as if it’s just the two of you in the world.

He reckons your voice is even more melodic up close, your eyes not only beautifully deep but pulling him in, making escape impossible. You’ve been sitting close the whole time, but now—oh, now—you’re practically on his lap, and he’s struggling to keep it together.

Trying his best to stay cool, to hide how much his virgin self is rattled by your attention, Jungkook gathers all his courage to finally ask, “Do you want to head out?”

Neither of you has had a single drop to drink, and he’s not sure if his feelings for you have already made him drunk, but he swears he’s hallucinating when you beam at him and say, “Yes, sure.”

Fast forward: after you took his hand and both of you slipped away into the night, heading towards Jungkook’s dorm, you’re now on his bed, clothes long forgotten. Jungkook’s trying to recall everything he’s read and seen about sex on the internet, but he isn’t sure if he’s doing it right.

It seems you’re not the least bit bothered by his slightly shaky hands, which are doing their best not only to commit the feeling of your soft skin to memory but to pleasure you as much as he possibly can.

The taste of your lips is divine, but the squelching and pulsing of your tiny cunt is by far the best thing that’s ever happened to Jungkook. He never would’ve thought he’d come this far, but now he’s not about to back down, even if his own orgasm is far too close for his liking.

“Kook,” you mewl under him, hips pushing eagerly into his tattooed hand as two fingers pump and stretch you so incredibly.

“Baby, fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Jungkook breathes against your lips, no longer able to hide his true feelings.

You’re not sure how long you’ll be able to keep your first orgasm at bay because, quite frankly, tonight’s a dream come true. You finally had the guts not only to talk to your long-time crush but to have him in bed with you.

It’s nothing like what you thought it would be with Jungkook—the shy, private guy who keeps his circle small and rejects every woman who tries to approach him. He’s not the fuckboy you thought he might be, but an attentive, loving partner, and now you see he’s giving you everything he has.

Even the foreplay is the best you’ve ever had, and while his eyes and low grunts could make you cream his fingers in an instant, it’s the sight of his tattoo sleeve and his massive, leaking cock resting on your thigh that pushes you so high, you’re seeing every colour of the rainbow.

The fact that Jungkook comes all over your thigh and stomach just from the sight and the fact that he gave you an orgasm drives you mad in every way possible. And as he tries to get off you, fingers leaving your cunt as it calms down, you don’t let him slip away, grabbing his head with both hands to kiss him fiercely. You roll over, straddling his waist, trapping him where he belongs.

Jungkook doesn’t protest, his fingers tracing the expanse of your spine while his other hand holds your ass to make you more comfortable.

“Just tell me when you’re ready again, yeah? No pressure, Kook.” You press your lips softly to his face and neck, leaving a trail of kisses, toying with his silky hair and caressing his buff arms and pecs.

His soft moans, paired with his fluttering lashes, make him look and sound like an otherworldly being, though you’ve always thought of him as such.

It feels not only cold but empty where his hand leaves your ass to open the drawer beside him, rummaging blindly for a condom.

“You sure?” Jungkook asks for the nth time tonight, and once again, your answer is the same.

“Yes. Are you?”

The pink dusting Jungkook’s cheeks hasn’t faded since you first kissed him, but now, with that broad smile and perfectly aligned teeth on full display, you realise your crush has transformed into the purest form of love.

“Of course, beautiful.”

Seeing that his hands are shaking a bit more than yours, you take the liberty of grabbing the condom from him and putting it on for him—not because you’ve probably got more practice than he does, but to ease his nerves a little more. And it works, as he lets his hands rest on your thighs, squeezing them ever so gently as if to say he’s here and won’t ever leave.

As you line up his cock with your dripping cunt, knowing it’ll be hard to relax and make him fit easily, you can’t help but lean back down towards him, your free hand cradling his chiselled jaw, hoping he’ll feel the devotion you have for him in the kiss you share.

As expected, it’s tight—nearly too tight—as your cunt practically screams at the orgasmic burn of his cock, but you can’t seem to give it much attention when Jungkook’s shimmering eyes, like the polar lights on the darkest nights, hold you captive.

And when you hit his pelvis, both of you moan, lips drawing together like magnets once again, tongues intertwining over and over as if they’re linking you both together for eternity. You can’t stay still for long, and Jungkook seems to share this thought as his hands settle on your hips, helping you ride him just right.

It’s slow, it’s intense, and it’s everything you wanted—everything Jungkook is. You hope he feels the same because there’s no way you’ll ever want, no need, something or someone else.

“Gosh, I love…it so much,” you barely manage to catch yourself tripping over your words, but it’s as if Jungkook understands nonetheless when he picks up the pace, his hand reaching up to tangle in your hair and take your breath away—not only with the increased rhythm but with a kiss full of emotion.

It doesn’t take long for both of you to explode in fireworks as bright as the sun itself. How could you not, when it feels like you were meant to be, when it feels as if you were soulmates?

Your breathing slowly comes down as you lie on his chest, listening to his powerful and calm heartbeat while he traces mindless circles on your back and massages your scalp. You want this moment to last, you want him to last.

But you don’t know how.

Thankfully, Jungkook finds his voice first as he carefully shifts you off him, not minding the condom still wrapped around him.

“Thank you,” he says softly, tracing the lines of your face with gentle fingers while his eyes turn a little sad with longing that mirrors yours.

You take his hand in yours, kissing each knuckle without breaking eye contact, causing the sadness to fade just a bit.

“Jungkook?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you want this?”

“What do you mean?”

You’re sure he’s not playing dumb because he genuinely looks confused, his eyes switching between yours.

“Do you want me?”

There’s a bit of silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward in the slightest.

“Do you want me?” he asks right back, serious as if you need to rethink.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath, and after relaxing his lips from a straight line, he confesses, “You are my first.”

You never would have thought that to be true, but you’re sure he’s honest with you right now because looking back, there were little, barely noticeable signs that could have pointed to that.

“You’re not my first,” you confess as well, knowing that not every woman bleeds on their first time.

Jungkook just shrugs into the mattress, his hand still intertwined with yours. “I love you.”

He says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you reckon it is, because you absolutely feel the same.

“I love you too.”

You’re both giggling like teenagers, your pair of eyes sparkling not only with happiness but with the adoration you hold for each other.

“Okay, girlfriend.”

“Okay, boyfriend.”

And with that, Jungkook pulls you closer, sealing your relationship with the sweetest kisses from the sweetest lips you’ve ever tasted and will ever taste.

#prompt game #jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts army #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook virgin #jungkook bts #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader

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cas-writes-stuff-ig · 9 months ago

Text

Cheering Her Up

f!/nb! reader x regina george (you love to make Regina feel better)

She calls you "duck" (ITS FUNNY/CUTE I PROMISE)

closeted bi Regina, and openly enby/lesbian reader

reader binds their chest with transtape/kt tape

secret relationship

cheering her up

Regina is taller than you

CONTENT: SO SO SO SORRY I KNOW IM WEIRD

Word Count: 1853

(Originally supposed to be a one shot)

kind of alludes to sex but not explicitly

Regina lets you write your own diss in her Burn Book, so Gretchen and Karen don't get suspicious as to why you're not in it. (a bit of transphobia and homophobia, t-slur/d-slur)

Past bullying and some self-deprication

Reader is a weirdo but Regina likes it

Reader likes classic rock and old hits, Regina pretends to despise it

She lashes out at you but its all good in the end :)

Reader likes to sing

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up (A Party)

a/n: this is a huge self-insert for me, I was really vibing to Bob Seger earlier (btw this is the second thing ive written in like 5 years spare me)

ALSO feel free to message or comment any feedback is appreciated 🙏

——————————————————————————————

Before the sophomore year, you were sure Regina totally despised you. She openly criticized any gay person she came across. Sophomore year, you were seated next to her in math and history, and you felt like you were going to be destroyed.

But when you came over to her house for a project, she asked "You have your first kiss yet?"

It caught you off guard. "Uh, no. Why?" your voice squeaked, although you knew she was a bitch. You were attracted to her.

She got close to your face and smirked, you could feel her breath on yours. "No reason," She grabbed the back of your head and kissed you. You didn't kiss back out of shock and Regina pulled away and went red, she opened her mouth to say something to excuse her actions, but you leaned in and kissed her again. That moment opened a whole new door for both of you.

After that, you and Regina got really close. Outside of the school halls, and in the comfort of Regina's mansion, you were secretly her best friend but also her friend with benefits. She isn't out yet either, she still has too much pride to be seen with a loser, but you don't mind waiting for her.

She was slightly nicer to you than others at school. She was actually pretty kind to you behind closed doors. She cared about you even if she never said it out loud. So about a month after you started hooking up, you were at her house and she handed you her Burn Book which was open to a blank page with only your picture on it. "I don't want Karen and Gretchen to get suspicious as to why you're not in it."

You could deal with the insults and the taunts, it never bothered you that much, so you wrote something that used to bother you 'Y/N L/N is a tranny dyke'.

The thing that did get to you was in 8th grade when you confessed to a girl, and she told everyone in your PE class that you watched girls change in the locker room. Everyone shunned you after that, but you grew thick skin. In freshman year you found your place amongst the loners and the nerds. You were content with it.

"Are you sure you want that in there?" Regina asked, what you wrote about yourself was harsh.

You nodded "Regina, I'm out of the closet already. It's a secret everybody already knows" You closed the book and handed it back to Regina and she tucked it away. "If I walk like a duck, swim like a duck, and quack like a duck, I'm probably a duck" She laughed at your joke, and you corrected yourself smiling "I mean dyke"

"You're so stupid" Regina replied, but it wasn't mean or full of scorn, she just shoved your shoulder. She changed your name to "Duck" in her contacts.

A week later you found out what your contact name was, you laughed at her a little and she got defensive "I'll change it then" and you quickly stopped laughing and took her phone.

"No no, keep it, please Regina it's cute" You yanked her phone out of her hand and tried to keep it away from her. You laughed again and ran around her room holding her phone, but she cornered you, pushing your chest, then your back hit the wall. You were breathless from running and grinned, though her face was stern. "I'm sorry, Gina. Please keep it, it's fine really"

The look on her face made you lose your confidence and you backed down, and handed her phone back, "Thanks loser" She tucked it back in her pocket, and she had a smug smile. "You're lucky I'm in a forgiving mood today" and tilted your chin up and kissed your lips.

After that day, it became one of your inside jokes, and "Duck" became one of your nicknames.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

That summer she invited you over to swim at her pool for the first time. "Hey loser, hurry up" she opened the door and led you to her pool.

You brought your only swim trunks and taped your breasts back to go swimming. She was in a tight bikini and she slipped in the pool, you took your shirt off, and she was staring at your body.

You weren't sporty, but you went to the gym, it's not like you had rock-hard abs, but you were toned and Regina hadn't seen you like that in the sunlight before, you beamed as you basked in the warm sun.

"Hey Duck, get in here" she beckoned you, you seized an opportunity to make a joke.

You bent your knees and flapped your arms a little walking back and forth at the edge of the pool "Quack quack" You giggled out. Regina cracked out a smile that evolved into laughter, her laugh warmed you more than the sunlight.

When you slipped into the pool, she was still laughing at you. "You're such a dumbass"

She splashed water at you when you tried to come and hug her in the pool. "Hey!" you yelped as the water got in your face and you splashed back.

After you just relaxed in the pool, you floated on your back, eyes closed, and sun-kissed skin. You didn't notice how Regina looked at you, but you heard water swish as she walked toward your floating body. You cracked an eye open, the sun was behind her making her look ethereal. Regina's blonde hair glowed, she looked like an angel, not the bitchy Queen Bee at school.

"Hey," you tried opening your eyes but just squinted.

She leaned down and said "Hey" back in her sweet voice and kissed you gently.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The summer pushed you closer together, of course, she had her fair share of parties she went to with the Plastics. You were there at parties too, but you both only shot each other glances. The days she hung out with the Plastics, you missed her company.

You got your license over the summer and when you got the message that she was back home, you hopped in your Mini Cooper and drove to her house and picked her up. Though she usually drove you around in her Jeep.

"Where we heading today?" you asked as she hopped in the car

She ignored your question and her attention was on your music "Earth, Wind & Fire's 'September'? Really?" she criticized your music taste.

She buckled in and you said, "What's wrong with my music taste Regina?"

"God you really are a loser" she insulted, you could tell she was in a mood today. You were a little hurt but tried not to take it personally. "7-11 can you grab me a Diet Coke?" you nodded and started driving.

You skipped to the next song and what played was Bee Gee's "More Than A Woman" You smiled and sang along to it. Hoping Regina would get the hint you were singing it to her.

"Suddenly you're in my life, A part of everything I do. You got me workin' day and night. Just tryin' to keep a hold on you..." Your fingers tapped against the steering wheel and you moved your shoulders to the beat of the song.

She just groaned and pressed her temples, you thought she really hated it but from the corner of your eye, you saw a corner of her lip lift slightly. After seeing that you sang your heart out a little more at a red light you turned to her momentarily "More than a woman. More than a woman to me" and grinned wide.

"Hey! Keep your eyes on the road!" she pushed your head to look back at the road.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

At school when Junior year started, Regina and you acted like you two were nothing, you both devised a facade as to why you interacted at all. It was a half-truth, everyone at school thought Regina paid y/n to do their math homework. But you only did that sometimes, and usually just helped her.

Today when you met at her house she was upset about something. "Regina, what's wrong?" you asked worriedly.

"Nothing, stay out of it" she snapped at you and she stomped up the stairs to her room.

You followed her "Regina come on," she turned on her heel and looked at you angrily and lashed out.

"Why are you even here? You're not dating me, stop acting like it" She yelled at you.

You paused and your heart faltered "Regina..." you said quietly. She turned back around and she slammed her bedroom door. Regina crawled in the sheets and just went to sleep. You didn't follow her in. But you walked downstairs to her kitchen and opened her fridge.

When Regina woke up she smelled some kind of pastry downstairs and light music. She opened her door and crept down the stairs, as she approached the kitchen, she heard your humming.

The next song started to play, your back was turned and you were using her mom's apron and mittens, pulling out a batch of brownies from the oven. When you sang alone, you were cheesier and poured your heart into each song, then you placed the brownies onto a cooling rack on the island counter and pretended to hold a mic.

"Still like that old-time rock and roll. That kind of music just soothes the soul" You closed your eyes and turned around still pretending to hold a microphone "I reminisce about the days of old, with that old-time rock and roll" Regina just smiled stifling laughter.

But when you started playing air guitar, at the part with no lyrics. You heard her giggle and your eyes shot open, face reddening "Regina! You're up!" she just laughed at your incredible dorkiness and walked up to you, this was the highlight of her day.

You brushed off your embarrassment from getting caught when you saw how happy it made her. And you walked closer to her and continued to mouth the song and dance around her. Still wearing her mom's frilly apron. You took her hand and spun her around and she still laughed at your silliness.

You stopped and walked back to the counter where she followed, "Brownies?" you smiled.

"Yeah, sure" She sat down at the table and you cut two pieces out.

When you handed her a plate, she looked up at you and spoke softly "Sorry about earlier..."

You smiled softly and took her hand as you sat next to her "Its okay, don't worry about it" You let go of her hand and then asked, "You feeling better now?"

"Yeah, thanks duck" She leaned towards you and kissed your lips. "You're so fucking corny" Regina pulled away.

You smirked "You secretly love it"

"I do" She responded, you almost choked on your own spit at her admission. She reveled in your panic and took a bite of the brownie you made her.

Only you could make her smile like this, and laugh like this, you knew that, and you had your silent victory.

Part 2 of Cheering Her Up (A Party)

#regina george x reader #fluff #renee rapp #regina george #mean girls #renee rapp x reader

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aliensubstance-011 · 2 months ago

Text

Fiddlestan AU!!

AU where Ford gets into West Coast Tech, but Stan manages to (somehow) get into Backupsmore and gets roomed with Fiddleford!

Stan was kicked out after Ford left (because if his brother was ready to leave home, so was Stan). Stan lived in his car & the public libraries he found (all his fake IDs are just fake Library Cards lmao. nerd). Stan also discovered he was queer (did drag for the prize money, then went OH. All these queens are treating me like this because I'm a baby queer. That makes sense. Guess I’m doing guys now.).

I like to think that Stan spent a year or two studying up after Ford left so when he gets in Fiddleford is in his second or third year! This does result in a “I'm your new roommate. You first year?” and Fiddleford going “What in tarnation... I'm THIRD year? How did we end up in the same dorm????”

At first they HATE each other- Fiddleford thinks Stan is reckless, and doesn’t know what he’s doing there, and that he’s kind of stupid, while Stan thinks Fiddleford is some stuck-up hippie who formed an opinion on Stan too quickly (he did). Once they do start talking they have a very quick ‘oh you’re actually not that bad’ moment. Fiddleford leaves before Stan, obviously, but they keep in close contact even after Fiddleford moves in with Emma-Mae.

Stan and Ford have a huge argument about Ford not needing Stan anymore. Cue: “Of course I need you, you're my brother” “WELL YOU DON'T ACT LIKE IT”, which is another reason that Stan and Fiddleford leave together. Not long after this, around Stan’s graduation, Fiddleford has a 'I'm gay and don't love my wife' moment, and Stan casually suggests running away, just driving (maybe something a little nostalgic in it, maybe when Stan looks back at his car he feels like he can hear a distant New Jersey shore). The next day Fiddleford shows up with a duffle bag of things, and Stan realises Fiddleford took him seriously. That he’s willing to run away with him, even if it’s not on a boat, that Fiddleford wants to. Stan gets very, very close to realising he’s in love that day.

They run away after Stan’s graduation and just drive until they get to Gravity Falls! They set up shop there, with Fiddleford doing auto repairs (and making inventions on the side). Fiddleford confesses to Stan when they’re staying in a motel- he thinks Stan is asleep, so he just says that he thinks he’s in love with him, while Stan is laying wide awake in the bed next to him. Stan spends the next few days Freaking The Fuck Out while Fiddleford doesn’t acknowledge what he said. Stan thinks Fiddleford knew he was awake, so when he confesses back he says something along the lines of “I think I’m in love with you, too” and Fiddleford bluescreens.

Just General HCs:

Stan falls first, but doesn't realise until Fiddleford confesses.

Ford is still self centred but doesn't hate Stan. Stan resents Ford for not doing anything when he was kicked out, and a little bit for leaving him. He understands, though, why stay with your good for nothing brother when you have dreams across the country to fulfil?

Fiddleford is Repressed Gay until he confesses his Awful Secret to Stan who's just like....”okay?”. He does get to the point of marrying Emma-mae, before he confesses to Stan.

I don't quite know what Stan will be doing, both in Backupsmore and once they move to Gravity Falls. I like a little bit about him either doing Art or Law, but I feel as though he’s not willing nor smart enough (respectively) for either one.

Stan IS smart, don’t get me wrong, he just needs it to be something ‘physical’ that he can interact with. Fiddleford helps a lot with this (having gotten a lot of hands-on work while he was on the farm).

I think eventually Ford does end up in Gravity Falls too, but by this point he’s distanced himself from everyone not because of Bill, but because of his own hubris.

Because of Stan and Fiddleford being queer, I don’t think Dipper and Mabel would be allowed to visit them until their parents have no other choice- though they do hear a lot about their Grunkles and see them from time to time.

If I did include a Bill/main timeline ish plot it’d be Fiddleford who gets tricked- maybe after Ford gets to Gravity Falls, and Bill offers a way to keep Stan happy/repair his relationship with Ford (maybe Fiddleford thinks Stan is going to run away- just without him this time. He knows Stan would never, but he could.)

I’d probably include a B-plot where Stan thinks Fiddleford will cheat on him with Ford- they click immediately and so much better, Ford is so much smarter, he’s the better twin, because insecure Stan is my favourite thing ever. Just a small detail, but I think that Fiddleford is a lot more confident and stable with Stan, mainly because Stan has encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone so often, and has proved time and time again that all Fiddleford has to do is ask and Stan is right there to catch him.

I'm still not sure what Stan should do, so if anyone has any suggestions, let me know! That and drawing requests god let me draw them PLEASE.

#Please for the love of god talk to me about this #I need to talk about this AU with SOMEONE #alien's fiction #I have so many fic ideas though #BMU Stan AU #fiddlestan #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #Stan pines #Stanley pines #gravity falls #ford pines #He only makes a brief (angsty) appearance here though

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haodarling · 5 months ago

Text

Like the Movies

about: a series of my favorite movies reimagined with (some of) the boys of seventeen.

notes: the movies inspired the fics, please don’t expect it to be an exact word for word reenactment of the films; i had a couple of ideas and decided to roll with it. unfortunately i will not be doing all of the boys as some of them are key side characters unless specifically requested! the stories are interrelated in some way; it won’t be explicitly stated but try and look for crumbs!

also! most if not all the y/ns in the fics are directly stated to be female due to some of the stories heavily relying on y/n’s biological sex to be female.

currently working on: pretty girl !

Pretty Girl

based on: Legally Blonde

pairing: law student! joshua x heiress! reader // ex boyfriend! wen junhui x reader

synopsis: the youngest of 3 successful sisters, no one expects you to accomplish anything save for sitting still and looking pretty, but after your boyfriend dumps you for a much more educated girl, you get your eldest sister to pay your way into harvard law where you meets joshua hong, who does not seem to appreciate how lightly you takes things.

tropes: opposites attract, popular girl x nerd boy but with a twist, they start off at the wrong foot, it gets resolved, joshua will say hurtful things along the way though

A Sweet Haven

based on: Notting Hill // Maid in Manhattan

pairing: golden retriever!mingyu x single mother!y/n

synopsis: never in your wildest dreams did you expect acclaimed actor, kim mingyu, to stumble into your quaint bakery and ask you to hide him from the onslaught of paparazzi. what began as one chance encounter turns into constant visits to you and your daughter. but just as you begin to see a future between the two of you, the reminder of his fame and reputation hovers over the both you.

tropes: forbidden romance, single mom! reader, mingyu’s an actor, secret relationship

Hot and Cold

based on: Pride and Prejudice // Emma

pairing: wonwoo x reader, seokmin x oc

synopsis: as the eldest child of your family, you have only ever wanted the best for your siblings. so when your sister confesses to being in love with someone— you do everything you can to make sure they both end up together… but the infuriatingly handsome brother of your sister’s beau seems to be against the union altogether.

tropes: enemies to lovers, they really don’t like each other at first, just two people being protective of their younger siblings, elder sibling trauma written by an only child LOL

Mr and Mrs. Choi

based on: Mr. and Mrs. Smith

pairing: agent!scoups x agent!reader

synopsis: you and seungcheol (code name: scoups) have a bit of a work place rivalry going on, and the agency wants to put you both to the test by pairing you up with each other in a mission that would determine who gets the promotion… the catch being that you both would have to play a married couple.

tropes: rivals to lovers, technically also coworkers to lovers, fake marriage au, a lot of back and forths, cheol is a teasing lil shit with y/n, will very much include the old “the target is gonna notice we’re tailing him hurry let’s make out”

Love Me Tomorrow

based on: 2 week’s notice // flipped

pairing: jeonghan x reader

synopsis: your friends and coworkers say you’re foolish for harboring a crush on the worst man ever; aka your boss. yoon jeonghan is a successful ceo, and he is well aware of the hold he has over you; often using you to perform minute and tiresome errands. but what happens when you finally draw the line?

tropes: unrequited love (initially), she fell first but he fell harder, hannie’s an asshole here ngl, he gets better i promise, y/n is on a path to self love, when hannie realized he loves her he’s so pathetic i swear

Something Borrowed, Something New

based on: My best friend’s wedding

pairing: minghao x extraverted!reader, slight vernon x reader, and slight minghao x oc

synopsis: you love your fiancee you truly do, and you were very sure he felt the same long enough to propose to you; but he’s quiet, and well- you’re not. you know this, and so you always make sure you are not too spirited in days where he doesn’t feel it. but when he runs into his old college friends, you could not help but notice how he becomes a lot livelier with his childhood best friend.

tropes: established relationship, opposites attract, golden retriever y/n and black cat minghao, angst, like a lot of it, hao has a girl best friend :(( , two people who don’t communicate because of their own personal reasons

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #angst #fluff #suggestive #svt angst #svt fluff #svt imagines #scoups x reader #joshua x reader #jeonghan x reader #wonwoo x reader #mingyu x reader #the8 x reader #like the movies — satin #minghao x reader

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cxrrodedcoffin · 4 months ago

Text

Begin Again - Aaron Hotchner

“you pull my chair out and help me in, and you don't know how nice that is, but i do.”

——

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Part 2 to don’t call me kid, Aaron takes Reader on their first date and things go better than expected.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Aaron Hotchner massive prog rock nerd confirmed by me (◡‿◡✿) I’ve decided to turn this into a mini series so more parts to come!

TW: established relationship, anxiety, food, alcohol repeatedly mentioned, fem reader, fluffy fluff, reader + aaron are huge music nerds

Rating: PG

——

It had been two weeks since you’d confessed your love to Aaron Hotchner, and tonight was the night you were finally going on your first official date with him. You weren’t sure how to feel, your stomach swirling with butterflies of excitement and fear all the same. Your previous plans of doing this last weekend had fallen through as the BAU was called onto an emergency case, the last one you’d work with the team. You’d been with your new unit for a week, the new setting pitching your anxiety to an all time high, and the pressure you were putting on yourself for tonight certainly wasn’t helping either. How would this go? Would he find your interests intriguing, or childish? Were you even ready for a relationship as high stakes as this one?

You brushed your scattered thoughts aside as you pulled the dress you’d spent hours contemplating over your figure, pulling the zipper before nervously smoothing out the fabric over your hips. Aaron had chosen the restaurant, a small but upscale place close to your apartment. He didn’t mind making the drive to your part of town, he wanted first and foremost for you to feel as comfortable as possible, and he knew if things somehow went south you’d be able to get home easily without him.

Aaron had his own doubts, he knew you were more than capable of making informed decisions, he’d witnessed you do so many times over the last couple years, even under extreme duress, but he still doubted you fully understood what you were getting into with him. Truthfully he didn’t understand what you saw in him, he felt impossibly flawed in every way. There was always something more he felt he could do, constantly trying to improve himself to make up for his self-perceived failings.

What he didn’t know was that you knew about his past and a good amount of his complicated personal relationships, and none of it phased you in the slightest. The rest of the team wasn’t exactly tight-lipped about anyone’s history, a few drinks into girl’s night always resulted in gossip sessions about the whole team, and the subject of Aaron Hotchner was no exception. Your past wasn’t devoid of trauma either, and you weren’t afraid of a little emotional instability.

You looked over your appearance in the mirror one last time before grabbing your bag and car keys and making your way to the restaurant, pulling into the first open spot you could find. You scanned the lot, hoping to find Aaron’s car amongst the rows of vehicles, but it was no use trying to pinpoint it in the sea of black sedans.

You took a deep breath and walked to the door, heels clicking against concrete. You pulled open the heavy glass door, silently praying that you wouldn’t have to wait long for him. You approached the hostess stand, ready to explain your situation to the well-dressed server behind it when you saw Aaron rise from his chair at a table tucked away in the corner of the crowded restaurant, waving you over. You breathed a sigh of relief as you walked across the dining floor, clutching your purse tightly against your body.

He was so handsome, he always was, but tonight, in his open suit jacket, with the top few buttons of his collar undone, perfectly framing his Adam's apple, you felt like your knees could buckle at any moment. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, smiling in an attempt to hide how flustered he made you.

“You look beautiful.” He broke the slight tension in the air as you finally approached the table he’d reserved for the two of you, pulling your chair out, ever the gentleman.

“Thank you.” You smiled at him, keeping your response short and turning your head down while taking your seat in hopes of hiding the blush overwhelming your cheeks. He made you feel like you were experiencing a crush for the first time again, and it made your doubts about doing this even stronger. Maybe you were too young, too naive to attempt to commit to a man as mature as Aaron Hotchner.

“Did you have trouble parking? It’s not usually this busy.” He skipped the usual greetings, feeling it unnecessary given your prior history. The mundane question pulled you out of the dark cloud of doubt in your mind for a moment, almost putting you at ease.

“Oh, it was okay, I found a spot right away.” You reassured him, picking up the menu to browse the dinner selection.

“Do you mind if I order for you? There’s a dish on the menu I really think you’d enjoy.” He asked, pulling your gaze from the menu. His request caught you off guard in the best way possible, your heart beating just a little faster at the thought of him thinking about what you’d enjoy. You figured it could be fun to put him to the test and see if he was really catching onto your tastes the way he seemed to think he was.

“Sure, I trust you.”

When the waiter came by to take your orders, he ordered the same dish for each of you and a bottle of wine he knew would pair well. You couldn’t deny that the way he took charge even in the most mundane ways was deeply alluring. Despite your naturally headstrong demeanor, you didn’t mind letting go of control around him, and if he was open to it, you couldn’t wait to explore that dynamic in other areas given the chance.

“How are you liking your new position?”

“It’s good so far, I do miss seeing you and the team, but I think I’m fitting in pretty well with my new team members.” You took a sip of your wine, avoiding eye contact as you tried to hide your half-lie. Truthfully, you weren’t adjusting the best to your new surroundings. Your coworkers were nice enough, but the low stakes nature of financial crime didn’t exactly build a family dynamic the way the BAU did.

“I’m glad you’re finding your footing.” He smiled softly, not letting on that he knew you weren’t being entirely honest. He didn’t want to push, trusting that you’d let him in more as you become more comfortable around him.

You didn’t know what to say, continuing to down your wine until the waiter brought your meals to the table. You both took your first few bites in silence, enjoying the food in front of you. Aaron was right, as he usually is, in picking it for you. Maybe he understood you better than you’d thought.

You exchanged small glances, content to enjoy the hum of hushed conversation coming from the tables around you, until you saw something stirring behind his eyes. He swallowed and took a deep breath, preparing himself to break the comfortable silence.

“I’ve been thinking about that night a lot, and I want to commend you for your bravery. I know it must’ve taken a lot of courage to open up to me like that and I want you to know how much I appreciate your vulnerability.” His right hand outstretched across the table to squeeze yours, the reassuring touch sending a spark straight to your heart.

“Thank you, Aaron, that means more than you know.”

He sat up just a little bit straighter at your words, as if the metaphorical weight he’d been carrying was suddenly lifted off of his shoulders. Having confirmation that he had been harboring the same nerves you were about tonight made the butterflies in your stomach settle to a dull flutter.

“You really seemed to take a liking to my record collection, who are your favorite musicians?” You redirected the conversation for his sake and yours, hoping to lighten the mood and get to know him a little better than you already did.

“You already know I’m a fan of The Beatles’ experimental albums, Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd are classic, and Blue Oyster Cult are an underrated favorite.”

You couldn’t help but feel captivated by the way his eyes lit up talking about the things he loved, and this was no exception.

“You know, when I was your age I saw Paul McCartney on his first solo tour.”

You almost couldn’t believe your ears, taking a second to register if he was being serious or not.

“You’re joking.” You playfully scoffed, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I went with some of my friends while I was in law school, can’t say I remember much from it though, we drank half our weight in cheap beer before he even came on stage.” He laughed, taking a sip of his wine. You’d never been more jealous in your life, but the way the outer corner of his eyes crinkled when he smiled made you forget your envy in an instant.

“Who knew mister tall, dark, and serious was so cool?” You teased, a sly smile plastered across your face. He shook his head with a deep laugh, taking another gulp of his wine.

You spent the rest of the night talking about your interests, telling Aaron all about your hobbies, answering his questions about the knickknacks he’d seen in your apartment. The more he asked the more you felt genuinely appreciated in a way you never had before, finding his attentiveness and attention to detail immensely attractive.

The more he learned about you, the harder he was falling. His previous impression of you as a young, naive agent was thrown out the window with every word that left your lips, finding himself completely captivated by the vibrant, intelligent, sexy woman in front of him. He wanted to give you everything if you’d let him, and you hoped you could give him the world all the same.

——

tag list: @lover-of-books-and-tea @ssa-aaronhotchner @pleasantwitchgarden

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or Aaron Hotchner taglist :)

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #mine #my writing

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mitsua · 3 months ago

Note

HELLOO!! I love your writing style sm I just had to requesttt😭😭💖 Can you do angsty middleschool!Izuku x Popular!Fem!Reader? Like reader is literally so popular because of intelligence, her quirk, whatnot. A lot of suitors but she still chose to date that quirkless, squirming boy 😭‼️ Lots of people start to mean-eye Izuku cause what did you do to get a girl like her?? what?? So Izuku starts to distance himself but reader is so clingy and whenever he distances himself, reader only gets more bothersome and attached to him so he "snaps" to make reader distance herself cause he's afraid that her reputation will drop because of him. This was before he met all might btw!! What would be the aftermath?

Thank you so much for saying that you precious story!!! I'm so glad you requested too!! Such a thrilling and angsty idea, I love it! Hope I fulfill your expectations!

Your true feelings

Warnings: bullies, mentions of self-depricating thoughts, low self-steem, crying, shouting, fighting (verbally), if I missed any please let me know!

Genre: angst Series: Boku No Hero Academia

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya × FEM! Y/N Words' count: 2.91k

Izuku liked you, he really did. He'd made it clear the day he decided to dump on you all about how he felt about you and since that moment on you've started a romantic relation. One that he couldn't be happier with.

You were simply everything he didn't even know he was searching for—you were cheerful, smart, strong, you were almost everything—he loved it, he loved you.

By simply being yourself with a bit more of carefulness towards him you've managed to make him fall harder for you every time.

You ask how he's doing every morning just as you enter the classroom and see him there, you make sure no one else can hear when he wants to talk about his struggles, you prepare his lunch sometimes too—with you, he can talk so easily about his interests he forgets about everything going around you two and gets mesmerized by your beauty and voice.

Alas, everyone else can see you too and get jelous over the fact Izuku Midoriya—the 'good for nothing nerd' of the class—has somehow a relation with you, and as the rebellious and wild teenagers they all are—they make sure he gets their message of leaving you.

"She deserves much better," "maybe she just agreed to go out with you out of pity," "I'm sure as this year's done, she'll be done with you too."

Those are some of the comments he can hear around him when you're not in the same room as him.

It first started with a couple of confused and disgusted looks from your classmates when you grabbed his hand to take him to lunch or gave him some pecks on his cheeks.

Then the rumour of you two being a thing got confirmed when the first mean bully just so happened to unleash his resentment on him infront of you—whom decided to stood up for the both of you and told them to let you be.

After this ordeal, it was as if all your fans made a silent pact of only teasing him when you're not close. Be it when he goes or comes out of the bathrooms, when you've got to go a bit earlier than usual, whenever they catch him alone.

Izuku didn't want to bother you, he ended up crying by himself at his house each time someone told him how undeserving of you he was, how stupid of him to have fallen in love with the most astounding girl of the school was, lots of hatred filled comments and comparisons.

They started to leave those rude remarks written in his belongings. Locker, backpack, notebooks... they were hunting him to get to you.

There was a breaking point in the poor boy's heart once he saw one of his bullies confess to you at the school's front after classes when you were supposed to go to his house and spend time together.

Of course you told off the guy but as Izuku's rage started to get to the surface, he heard the bully talk bad about him as a person and as a partner.

He froze, you were on the verge of tears as you caught on what he was trying to do—disuade you from loving your one and only—and even if it didn't make your mind change as the tormentor wanted to, it did affect Izuku.

He had gotten to your side and as fast as possible and caught your wrist with his hand, running out of the scene with tears in both of your eyes.

"Thank you for getting me out of that Iz-oh, Izuku, are you ok?" You asked worriedly as you gasped for air when you arrived to a park near your house.

"It's-It's nothing, just that seeing you want to cry made me want to cry too and I tried to move as fast as possible to help you..." he replied, giving you a forced smile. While his body had stopped moving at such fast speed, his mind couldn't seem to do it.

He was nervous to what were you thinking about him right now. He was almost sure you hadn't heard a single bad comment about him than that time you ended up exposing your relation to the whole school, now that the dude had dared to speak up what no one wanted to with you close, he thought he'd lost you. 'What if those observations only served as a reason to break up with him?' 'Did you believe that guy at all?' 'Would you still want to be with someone like him?' 'What were people thinking about you seeing you with a guy like him?'

"Well I really appreciate it, I don't know what that fella was thinking when telling me all that but now that we're finally hereee... do you want to go to the swings?" You suggested with no more glassy eyes and a grin on your face.

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"Did you hear what he did yesterday?" "Yes! I never thought someone would really declare to her knowing she is dating him..." "Just what did she saw in him again?"

The classroom was now full aware of the love declaration you received the day before and were going mad about it prior to classes.

Izuku was going mad about it too. He liked you... he really did. 'But why was his love waning now? Was he seriously going to let people's comments get to him and end things with you?'

"Good morning Izu!" You greeted, smiling ever so brightly just at him and carressing his cheek like you'd always do. "How are you?"

He could only hum in response, not really looking at your eyes, instead staring at his hands that were placed in his desk. He needed time to think about this new insecurities of him without bothering you with all of it and worrying you.

"Uhm, do you want to talk about it at lunch maybe? We can go to our secret spot at the rooftop-oh! Before I forget to tell you, I got you lunch today! I've discovered this new recipe you'd want to try out!"

As you spoke ever so joyous Izuku could only think about how all of their classmates statements were true. You were so much for him, you cared for him more than anyone—besides his mom—had ever done and he didn't seem to be able to do the same for you—hell, even if he wanted to protect you from some danger all he could do is run away with you, he had no quirk either.

You've told him many times that you would never discriminate or think less of him for that, but after yesterday's encounter with that stupid guy and his desire of flying him out of the world's ozone layer, he was not sure about it anymore.

Everything seemed to tell him in one way or another that you were not made for each other, that you'd find better in anyone but him.

Izuku loved you... he really did, and for this he found his heart aching when he didn't meet with you in lunch to speak as you'd usually do. Even if he knew you'd still let him choose to speak right then and there or not, he couldn't bring himself to look at you in the eyes.

You'd gotten worried once your second period of classes started and he could feel your glances at the classroom from your seat to his.

It was difficult to, but he'd also managed to get out of school without you. You tried to follow after him but as you caught a glimpse of his eyes by far and he recognized yours too, he turned as quick as he could to run, then a couple of friends started to approach you and left you with no space nor words to go with him.

Was he avoiding you now?

You liked Izuku, you really did, that's why you couldn't bring yourself to sleep last night since you sent worried messages to him only to get no reply. Opting to just stay up before even your alarm went off, you started preparing food for the two of you. You'd cook your boyfriend's favorite today to cheer him up!

"Hi Izuku! Here! Better put it inside your backpack for you to not forget to eat today!" You showed him a bowl-shapped container and carefully placed it inside his things to then start chatting normally with him. "Soo, how are you today?"

Izuku could not comprehend 'how were you so kind to him? Even when he felt he was being mean to you? Why?' He now wanted to let you see what others had been saying about him all along but you left no room to budge. You were always by his side even after some days of not replying to your text messages or usual videocalls, he'd also flinch back as you tried to reach for his usual morning cheeks kiss in class and excuse himself after school since he suddenly had some other stuff to do.

You loved him, you really did, that's why your heart and mind told you maybe he needed some time or space to think about what had happened when that random guy confessed to you—because it's been since that day that he's gotten a 'little' colder towards you.

It didn't matter, you could give him some days to order whatever was on his mind and come back when he was feeling better. Though it's never been your way of sorting things out with him—you researched online and found out it could be a helpful way to get better as a couple.

So after giving him a week and a half to be reach out when he felt ready to—as you'd clarified via message to him and being left on sentvyour heart broke when there was still no signal of him coming back to you.

'No, don't think negatively now, maybe he just needs me to start up again! There's no problem with that since he's always been shy!' You thought as you came closer to your classroom, an uncomfortable feeling started growing in the pit of your stomach.

"Hello Izuk-" You went to embrace him as your body missed so much his warmth as you hugged him but froze in shock seeing his disturbed eyes after he'd flinched back once again from your touch.

"I'm-I'm sorry, maybe my voice was too loud, haha, soo, how are you? Do you feel better now?" You questioned keeping in mind your voice and opting to take one of his hands on yours, smiling kindly to hopefully demonstrate you weren't being distant because he had done something wrong.

"I'm sorry too, uhm, I-I'm doing better I guess." He said coldly, still not looking at you.

"Maybe you'd like to talk about this lat-" The ring went off and everyone gathered in their seats to start class, as you went to end your sentence, you noticed Izuku had simply taken out his notebook as a dismissing action.

Lunch time arrived and as you didn't find Izuku anywhere in the cafeteria, you thought of going to the rooftop as he'd most likely be there by himself—that's where you'd seen him go to these past days you haven't spent time with him by these hours.

You closed the door behind you and let out a relieved sigh watching him there—sitting down close to where the bars were—so calmly, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

"Hello again!" You spoke softly, smiling tenderly as he heard you and turned to look at you.

"I don't think it's a good time to speak Y/N," he'd finally spoken, but certainly those were not the words you were expecting to leave his lips after a week and a half from not talking to each other.

"I, I came to see how are you doing! I've been so worried this days!" You decided to brush it off as he'd done with your salutation.

"I thought you've finally given up on me." He said ever so softly you first thought you hadn't heard him right. 'You couldn't have, had you?'

"Wha-What? What are you talking about? You know I like you Izuku-I would never do tha-" "don't, please don't continue. I've told you it's not a good time to speak."

"Then could you tell me when will it be?" You asked truly curious and a bit hurt from his way of cutting you off.

"I don't think there would be another time..." "Hey, I'm sure you don't mean that-" "WHAT IF I REALLY DO?!" He cried out.

"Y/N, NO ONE WANTS US TO BE TOGETHER! SHOULD WE REALLY BE THEN?!"

Spilling tears after tears, forest-like green eyes missing their light among all the tall and thorny-full trees were begging for something even he could still not decipher what it was.

"I WANT TO BE WITH YOU, EVERYONE ELSE BE DAMNED FOR ALL I CARE!" You could not help your voice, after hearing him scream you screamed back wishing he'd get your message and be done with all this.

"I-sorry, I want to be with you, Izuku, Izuku Midoriya, I like you, I-I love you, not them." You confessed on the verge of tears, getting closer to take his hands on yours, craving for reassurance that he didn't want neither of this too.

"Then... I don't like you."

He uttered. Shattering your heart and breaking whatever was keeping you together. 'Did he really mean it?' 'Have I done something wrong?' 'Maybe all this time I thought he was the one who needed time to think and change something but actually I was the one who needed to change.'

Your mind ran thousands of miles per hour with all the bad thoughts you were trying so hard to erase. With Izuku by your side it was always much easier but now he'd been the one provoking them.

You liked Izuku... you really did, that's why you felt as if time had suddenly been frozen and you could only stare into those darkened, green eyes. 'When did they lose their spark? Why?'

You loved Izuku... you really did, that's why your heart even while being in so much pain couldn't bare to let your mind think about a life without him.

'Anyone but him.' But for him it seemed to be 'anyone but you.'

"Izu-No, you can't be serious, right? I-It's all their fault!" "Stop it Y/N, I think this has gone for too long now." He balled his fists at his side and went past you to get to the exit door.

"Please tell me you're lying..." you sounded so defeated. Izuku could only take so much and it was undeniable he wouldn't ressist hearing you nor seeing you cry because of him.

"Izuku, what did I do wrong..." you begged for answers most likely to yourself thinking he had already left you alone.

"It's not your fault," between sobs he pleaded, "don't blame yourself."

"It's not yours either, so then why?..." you implored to him, havig already fallen to your knees holding your tearful face with your hands.

"I-..." he'd fallen speechless, his mind echoing your question making him realize what he's been missing all this time.

Clarity. As simple as that.

He's read thousands of books and heard one to many stories were the main character would lack a certain thing and even if it seemed so absurd at the moment how much impact it could have on them once they got it back—Izuku could now understand how they all felt.

His thoughts had all been scrambled ever since that damned day someone confessed to you with no light to help him see the truth behind it all—behind all those jelousy-filled remarks from your classmates—he liked you, he really did. He loved you, heck, he adored you.

'Why did a random person's words have to be relevant to any of you?' 'Why did they get the right to decide who he is with and likes?' 'He had control over his own life, not any of them.'

As if he was holding his breath for days, he hurriedly went to your side, kneeling next to you and cried out apologies, "I'm sorry-I'm so-so sorry, I wasn't thinking clearly, I didn't think how you'd feel when I said that and for that and everything I've been putting you through I'm sorry."

"I love you Izuku, I really do." You shared after a few moments of silence, catching him by surprise when you side hugged him and looked at his matching red-puffy eyes.

"I love you too." He'd ultimately admitted, reciprocating your feelings and looking in that brightness only his eyes could hold and cast light upon yours as well—that, even if you were recognized as one of the most cheerful people on your school and such, you knew you'd be none of that without Izuku in your life ever again.

Oh, how love does wonders, doesn't it?

"Well, let's go and give a fuck about everyone's opinion now!" You encouraged as you caught Izuku to stand up and go back to class.

"Eh?!" He got surprised by your sudden cursing but quickly his eyes softened as he found the deep meaning of your words and nodded his head. "Yes, let's go."

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