#bring back that haircut please | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seospicybin · 15 days

Text

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART 2

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Chapters: Part I

Synopsis: To help you moving on from your break-up, Chan takes you out for a night. However, he doesn't expect you will find a potential new love in someone else. (9,5k words)

Author's note: Here's one you've been asking for. Please tell me what you think about it! Nevertheless, enjoy x

"I think we're done for the day, huh?" You sigh in relief after dumping the dirty towels into the laundry bag and tossing it to the back room.

"No, actually, someone just walked in and wanted a haircut," your co-worker says while holding a stack of clean towels in front of her.

"Keem can have it," you resolve, you've finished all of your appointments for the day, and you're tired and ready to go home.

"Yeah, that's the problem. He specifically asked for you," your co-worker answers, putting the towels into the shelf full of them.

You plant your hands on each side of your waist and shoot a puzzled look at your coworker, "Huh?"

Is this customer aware that the salon is about to close and there's another hairstylist on duty? That exciting feeling of getting home soon is slowly fading as you head in to meet this customer who specifically asks for you.

The second you walk in, Keem, the other stylist, grabs your elbow and then leans into your side to whisper, "He's so cute."

Hearing it doesn't lift your mood at all, you just want to get it over with and go home.

"Where?" You ask as you put on your apron.

"He's right there," she whispers, pointing to the middle seat hidden behind the big mirror then detaches herself off you to go back behind the counter.

For a customer who chooses an awful time to get a haircut, you put on a phony smile and shove your hands into the pockets of your apron as you greet.

"Hi, what can I do for... You!" The infliction in your voice changes as you see who that customer is.

It's the shit-eating grin, the stupid dimples on his stupid face and

"It's enough torture to have you as my neighbor and now I have to you see at work too," you say as you cross your arms together in front of you.

"Oh, wow, is this how you treat your customer?" He says with a fake concerned look.

"Only the select few," you say with a sinister smile.

"I made it on your list of honors? Is this because we had sex—"

You hurriedly cover his mouth with your hand and make sure no one is seeing what you're doing to him, or worse, letting them acquire that piece of information.

"What do you want?" You scold him with a piercing glare.

He takes your hand off of his mouth and dramatically gasps for air, "I want a haircut," he simply answers.

With a huff, you swivel his chair to face the mirror and grab the cape for him, putting it around his neck, then clip it together. You put on a phony smile as you look at him through the reflection in the mirror.

"So, what do you want me to do with your hair besides setting it on fire?" You sarcastically ask him.

It's amazing how his grin doesn't wear off even just for a second, "We don't need to cut much, I guess just the tip," he says.

"Just the tip," you repeat, "Is that the title of your sex tape?"

Chan cracks a sonorous laugh, "That's a good one!"

Once you hear the sound of the scissors snipping away the hair, you get in the zone. You focus on giving his hair a nice shape that accentuates his strong jawline and makes his facial features more prominent.

"Don't talk much, huh?" He asks, slightly turning his head to the side.

You grab the nape of his neck and forcefully turn his head back to the front, "just here trying my best not to snip you somewhere else," you calmly mutter.

"Ooh, chills!" He responds with a shudder.

You switch your scissors with a hair clipper and it starts buzzing as you turn it on, you're holding it in his hand as you look at him and say, "You're going to regret coming here and allowing me to be this close to you with a sharp object."

Seeing you bringing the hair clipper close to his face, he reflexively closes his eyes so tightly and you hold the urge to not laugh at it.

"Oh, okay, I regret it now," he says like a frightened child left alone by his parents.

You gently place your hand on his jaw, "Stay still," you warn him.

He obeys you, keeping his head still and his eyes closed as you're carefully trimming his sideburns. You suddenly find yourself admiring his face and his beautiful features of a long, big nose and voluptuous lips.

For a split second, you so badly want to run your thumb on his lips and feel how soft they are. You did feel it once with your lips but you were too sad to notice and now you realize how much you regret it.

Before the temptation returns, you turn off the trimmer and put it away, then proceed to help brush the hair on his face and around his neck with a soft brush.

"You're all done," you announce, taking the cape from around his neck.

Chan stays on his seat as you brush the excess hair off the nape of his neck and make sure they don't stick to his skin. You put all of your equipment on the cart next to you and anticipate his reaction to your haircut.

Not trying to brag here but you did a good job here because he looks even more attractive with a fresh cut.

"Aren't you going to tell me how handsome I am and then kiss me on the cheek?" He asks while blinking his big eyes at you.

"I'm not your mom," you reply with a plain smile.

"I'm waiting for you."

When you think you already got rid of him after giving him a haircut, you see him lounging around the counter and putting on his charms for Keem. You plan on keeping it a secret that you know each other but if he starts flirting with your co-worker, then there's a possibility you'll see her walking out of his apartment the next day and it only gets messy from there. You come up to him and tug at the sleeve of his jacket, then pull him to the side.

"Why are you still here?" You ask through your gritted teeth and keeping your volume low.

"Why?"

"Because we're going out tonight," he answers.

"We?"

"And no, my panties are not in a twist," he says with a teeth-baring grin, "You can check it yourself if you want."

"Ugh. No!" You groan in refusal.

What is it about him anyway that makes the girls go crazy for him? If you're thinking with your depraved, brutal, and cavewoman brain, it must be the body that is inexplicably electric and sexually charged, braced with heavy muscles, and injected with a high dose of testosterone. In other words, he's hot, and it's hard not to be biologically attracted to him. But if you're thinking progressively and in the 21st century way, you know you should avoid this fuckboy at all costs.

"Ugh. Okay," you groan in agreement this time.

"If you don't want to go then I'll just take Keem," he says, secretly threatening not only you but also your workplace dynamic.

"I'm sure she's keem for it," he makes a pun.

And then, there's something called human error.

At first, Chan thought that you have that stoic expression only whenever you're around him but he was wrong. He learns that it's just your default expression and you wear it like a defense mechanism to keep the predators at bay. At least, he shouldn't worry about leaving you alone in the bar as he's working the DJ booth.

Once he's done with his set, he ignores the calls for his name and walks up to you, seeing you rather unimpressed by what he just did. What did he expect though? You're not most girls.

He taps the table, signaling the bartender to come and tend to his order, "The usual, please?"

The bartender nods and is about to turn away to make his drink when he calls for him again, "And one more for this nice lady," he adds, gesturing at you and flashing you a sly smile.

Chan turns around to face the dance floor and leans his back against the counter, "So, what do you think?"

"It was good," you answer after sipping your drink.

"You have a filthy expression on your face," he teases you and gently elbows your side, "go on, tell me what you're really thinking."

"Strangling you with my bare hands," you answer without a beat.

Chan leans in close enough that he can get a whiff of the smell of your shampoo, "so that's your kink?"

"Only when I see fear in your eyes," you answer with a wicked smile.

"Wow. You know how to excite a guy," he praises, not entirely lying about it because he gets a little excited from your snarky comments.

The bartender comes with both of your drinks and you hurriedly finish your previous one to go ahead with the next. He watches as you take a small sip and then waits to see how your nose scrunched at the bitter aftertaste.

"You're single now and maybe it's time for you to get out there, you know, find a new love," he says, secretly hoping that you'll find it in him when he looks at you.

"Hey, Chris," a girl comes and without hesitating, placing a kiss on his cheek, "Great set!"

"Thanks, Alicia," he says to the tall lady with beautiful braided hair.

"This one is on me," she says as she gives him a drink from the ones she ordered.

"Cheers then!" He says, clinking his glass with hers with his charming smile on.

The lady leaves to take the drinks away and is soon engulfed by the crowd. Chan notices that you remain calm about that interaction, and again, what did he expect?

"At least, one of us has no problems getting some tonight," you take a jab at him.

"I'm taking you out so we can have fun tonight and enjoy yourself—"

"The only way I can enjoy myself is when I'm alone."

"Oh?" He gasps and gives you a wild glare.

You roll your eyes and sigh once you realize he's taking it the wrong way, "I just want to go home and binge my favorite show and sleep," you finish your sentence with a big gulp of drink and he gets to see another nose scrunch from you.

The intention was to take you out of the apartment and perhaps, he can get you to loosen up a little bit, making this getting to know each other thing a little easier for him. It seems like he's forcing it on you and maybe it wasn't a good idea after all.

"Okay, then, we'll go home after this one," he says, lifting his glass close to his mouth.

"Or you can just stay here and do your thing, and I'm going home," you suggest a better idea after finishing your drink and you grab your bag as if you just can't wait to get out of here.

Chan is quick to grab your arm and stops you from leaving, "Hey, at least, let me finish my drink first," he protests.

"You don't have to leave with me. I can go home myself," you say to him.

"Just wait for me," he squeezes on your arm and adds, "Please?"

You consider it for a moment and then say, "I'll wait for you outside."

Since he's done a gig here, Chan has to make a proper exit out of the club, he greets a few people who work there and grabs his backpack of equipment, carrying it in his hand as he walks out of there. He finds you leaning against the street lamp and the light casts a glowing halo on your head, making you look like an angel... with a stoic expression.

He grins when you notice him coming, "Okay, I lied, there's another thing we have to do tonight," he says.

"Goodness, Chris, just bag a lady and call it a night," you groan in complaint.

Both of his eyebrows ratchet up at your words, "It has nothing to do with that."

"What is it then?" You cross your arms together in front of you.

"Only the best part of the night," he answers with a cryptic smile.

Chan knew he should have started the night with food. He can see that your mood gradually elevates with every bite you take from the delicious kebab he recommended to get after a boozy night out.

By the time you both arrive at the apartment building, you get all quiet like a drowsy child after a day out at the park and he finds it cute, especially with the way your lips slowly jutting out and you keep widening your eyes to stay awake.

"How about next Friday night we're doing it your way?" he suggests as he keeps the elevator door open for you with his back.

"If that means you'll leave me alone then yes," your eyes turn small as you politely moan into your hand.

"We're going to stay in and binge-watch your favorite show and sleep," he lists everything you mentioned earlier and an idea pops into his head.

"We'll have a pajama party!" He announces along with a poor imitation of tooting horns.

"No!" You flatly reject the idea.

"I'll bring the snacks," he offers.

You steadfastly shake your head.

"Then I'll keep knocking on your door until you let me in," he annoyingly moves into your side until he's rubbing elbows with yours.

"Then I hope you get abducted by aliens," you come out with an absurd wish and it cackles him.

"You would miss me," he confidently remarks with his signature grin.

"Doubtful. Very doubtful."

"Why?"

"I know I'd get to see you again someday—"

Chan can't help himself from smiling but little does he know, you're not done with your sentence yet.

"— in hell."

That wipes the smile off his face, "but I'm a good person. People like me," he says while making an innocent face.

"Because they don't know you, if they did, someone would have kicked your ass already."

"They'd try," Chan easily says with a nonchalant shrug, and at the same time, you both burst out laughing.

This is not flirting and he's aware there's something wrong with this interaction but you know what? He likes every bit of it.

Chan's heart sinks when it's time for the two of you to part ways and before you get to slip away from him, he tugs at the strap of your bag.

"Hey, can't wait for our pajama party," he says.

You pull your bag until the strap slips out of his hand and head to your apartment door.

"No response," he points out, "it's as a yes then."

"No!" You shout.

"So... it's a no?" He asks in confusion.

You push the door to get inside your apartment and lingers by the doorway, facing him.

"No," you cheekily respond and then close the door, leaving him with a different kind of thrill for what comes next.

From the way this person treats your door like a tambourine, you can safely guess that it's Chan knocking on the door for the so-called pajama party.

Ugh, why did you agree to it in the first place? It's so unlike you to let someone in on your space but it doesn't matter whether you let him or not, the boundaries have been crossed so many times that there's no such thing as personal space anymore.

Before letting him in, you check through the peephole, and just as you expected, he comes undressed, literally. He's standing on the other side of the door wearing nothing but gray sweatpants hanging low around his hips.

"Please have mercy on my eyes and put some clothes on!" You shout through the door with your hand holding the knob.

"I don't wear pajamas. This is what I wear to sleep," he responds and you can hear him faintly laughing with your ear pressed on the door.

"And what makes you think you're going to sleep at my place tonight?"

"I don't know. A hunch," he playfully responds.

"Pajama party is officially canceled!" You say through the peephole.

"Okay, okay, I'll put some clothes on," he sighs in defeat.

You watch through the peephole to see if he's really going to his apartment to change. With his broad shoulders, all hunched up, he walks back to his apartment and doesn't even bother to close the door, he grabs whatever lying close to him and puts the dark t-shirt over his head. Even under the poor lighting, the ridges of his muscles are visible and inviting you to feel it with your touch.

As though he knows he's being watched, he looks your way and then trudges his way back to your door. The first thing you see after you open the door for him is his big grin that sends his dimples sinking deep into his cheeks.

With a glare at his empty hands, you ask, "And where's the snack?"

Chan puts his arms on each side of the doorframe and leans in close, towering you with his big figure, proudly he answers, "Ma'am, I am the snack."

Can't tell if he's trying to charm you, intimidate you, or both, doesn't matter because he failed at all of them.

"But you promised!" You can tolerate people when they make jokes about anything but you can't accept when it involves food.

Chan takes his phone out of his pocket and shows it to you, "It's being delivered. See?"

Your jaws unclenched in a second and you open the door wider for him, "You may come in!" You sweetly say with a curtsy.

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" He says with a bow before steps into your apartment.

It's ironic how you prepared everything despite you were grudging it, you set the sofa, put some cushions and since he said he was bringing the food, you bought drinks for tonight.

"I have juice, soda, and beers," you list everything you have in your fridge as you're looking at it.

"We'll have the soda for now and beers for later," Chan strategically plans.

The food he ordered only lasts for two episodes and from there, you both run on beers and chips while sitting on opposite sides of each other on the couch with your feet touching.

"I like seeing white stockings on women," Chan comments after seeing the female character wearing it under her dress.

"This is why I hate watching with a man," you say in a condescending tone.

"I'm not even saying anything about her body," he defends himself and playfully rubs his foot with yours.

"Just shh..." you hush him, getting back at him by tackling his foot with yours.

The whole time the TV show is playing, your attention is on him, you're merely curious if he's genuinely invested in it or just wants to annoy you with his presence. From your observation, it seems like it's the former but the jury's still out.

"Wait, is that it?" He asks as the first season has just ended and the credit title rolls down the screen.

"That's the end of the first season," you say, starting to gather the trash on the table and put it into a plastic bag.

"But there's another season, right?" He says, looking distressed that the show ends with a cliffhanger.

"Yeah," you answer.

"Then let's watch it!" He says with a grin and slowly blinking his eyes at you.

"No, Chris, it's late," you show him the time on the screen on your phone that it's close to midnight.

"But I want to know what happens next and I need to know now," he speaks like a spoiled little brat.

You get up from the sofa to get rid of the trash, "You can watch it on your own."

Grabbing the back of your sweater, Chan pulls you hard until you plop down onto the sofa next to you then he puts his arm around you to keep you down.

"Let's just party all night, eh?" He persuades you as he leans in close to the side of your head you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek.

You leer to the side at him and ask, "I can't make you leave, do I?"

"Not a chance," he shortly answers.

Seeing that there's no other way to make him leave but to fulfill his wish, you give in and sit back down on the sofa as Chan hits the play button.

With your stomach full and the exhaustion from the day, and you feel snug on the sofa wrapped in your blanket, you're getting drowsy as the night gets late. You manage to stay awake for two episodes but not long after that, your eyes get really heavy and you can barely keep them open anymore.

Going to rest my eyes for a bit, you tell yourself in your head but close your eyes, slowly drifting into deep slumber.

It's not new that Chan wakes up not knowing where he is, he lifts his head and looks around, taking in his surroundings to give him clues of his whereabouts. One look at the TV screen that shows a question whether he's still watching or not, he immediately recalls where he is, what he's doing here, and—

"Owh!" He lowly gasps as you accidentally elbow him on the ribs.

There he is, lying next to you on the sofa, your back pressed close to his chest he can feel every rise and fall of your body as you're breathing. He doesn't know how it comes to this and he's not complaining though, if anything, it's an opportunity for him to admire you up close.

Cautiously, he removes the hair covering your face to the side and takes an intimate look at your facial features, first at your eyes with your eyelashes fanning out so beautifully, he runs his fingertip down your nose and eventually at your lips which he dreams of kissing.

Do you know that you're so beautiful yet so unaware of it?

Chan gently buries his nose in your neck and inhales your heavenly scent that gets him intoxicated, putting himself in a test of restraint that he'll be likely to fail. All of a sudden, you stir in your sleep and nuzzle closer as if you're seeking warmth from his body heat.

What did he just put himself into? He frustratingly asks in his head.

Soon enough, he can feel your body start to mold against him and it feels nice, you're fulfilling his need for this closeness but unfortunately, he can't control how his body is reacting to this as it wants to do more than just being pressed close to yours.

Chan carefully places his hand on your hips and quietly, he tries to push you away to make a safe space between your bodies even though he has to suffer the loss of your warmth against him.

As if your body knows what he's trying to do, you push back even further and the curve of your ass sits right on the bulge growing inside his sweatpants, putting him at a greater risk.

"Fuck!" he mouthes in distress.

If it wasn't for the TV light that casts a hazy glow on you, he wouldn't notice that your eyes are open and you're waking up to him with his hand on your hips which he's afraid only giving you the impression that he tries to pull you close instead of the opposite.

"I—" he can't say anything without sounding like he's lying because he knows that a greater part of him wanted it, wanting you.

In the next moment, he finds your hand reaching for him and unexpectedly, you put your fingers across his lips, asking him to stop talking as you bring his head close until your lips touch. He doesn't dare to do anything but when you stroke his lower lip with your tongue, his instincts take over.

To no one's surprise, Chan claims your mouth like a starved man.

However, Chan doesn't plunge right into it, he's starting the kiss with innocent brushes of his lips on yours and teasing licks before taking your mouth once again in a deeper kiss.

When he draws back, your lips are parted on soundless gasps of desire. It takes a moment for your eyes to clear enough to focus on him and with a low voice, he says, "I couldn't resist it."

He can't waste a second without kissing you so he indulges in another dizzying kiss, "I thought about kissing you all week."

Days, weeks, months, it comes to a blur to him but he learned the agony of waiting so he counts the time until his lips can reunite with yours again, hopefully, once and for all.

"Now, I can't seem to stop," As he speaks, he threads his fingers into your hair and angles your head back. He trails kisses along your jawline, nips your chin, and kisses the corner of your mouth.

A murmur humming in your throat as he kisses you yet again and your hand flies into his hair, fingertips lazily scratching at his scalp. You suddenly pull away from the kiss and gaze into his dark eyes, "Then don't stop."

So Chan hasn't been the only one, after all.

Planting his mouth on yours again, he twines his tongue with yours, and oh... this taste, this softness, your hand in his hair, kiss after kiss after kiss.

He allows himself to run his fingertips down the length of your arm and smiles when goosebumps ripple outward. Nuzzling your neck, he breathes in the soft scent of your skin and kisses the sweet spot just behind your jaw. Your lips are calling him, but instead, he sucks on your earlobe and bites it, startling a shaky sigh from you.

He allows himself to explore more by running his hand along the length of your body, cupping the curve of your breasts, and even through the layers of fabrics, he can feel the firm buds of your nipple. He so badly wants to pinch it, love on it, but there is too much fabric in the way. He simply resolves it by slipping his hand under and he finds your soft mounds in a second, not wasting another second to fondle on it.

As he kisses you harder, and you arch into his body, you're undulating your hips against the aching bulge inside its confine, forcing him to bite back his groan.

Oh, he hasn’t wanted someone like this in... Has he ever wanted someone like this?

He reels himself back to the present, glancing down at his pale hand and your nipple caught between his fingers, it's an erotic sight indeed that he can't resist pinching it and enjoying your sharp intake of breath.

"Chris..."

The sound of his name falling from your lips is just as unexpected as it is hot. He sees you breathe through your parted lips that's swollen and glistening wet from all the kissing, and then at your wide, lustful eyes that tell him you're ready for more.

An impatient hand glides down your stomach and slips beneath the waistband of your shorts, his gentle fingers caress you with slow strokes. He is touching you there, right where you need him and you shiver, then burrow closer to him as more goosebumps dotted your skin.

"My God, you're drenched," he says and with each syllable, his lips grazed your ear.

Your body clenched hard, clenched even harder when he presses a finger deep into you, filling you. He massages your clit with lazy swirls of his thumb, making you start trembling against him.

He lowers a kiss on you again, tongue and teeth invading your mouth and that's all it takes to send you climbing quick and sharp toward your release.

His mouth finds your ear and with his hot breath tickles you, he lowly asks, "Does it feel good?”

There's no answer but you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you throw your head back, inhaling sharply. Chan can feel tiny muscles fluttering around his fingers, and he knows you are close.

He doesn't need to see to know the answer, he can feel it with his hand, "You’re drenching my palm," he whispers again.

With your hand in his hair, you bring his head close and peck his lips, "Chris, I want it," you mutter as you pull away.

You lightly nod, "Mmh-hmm."

"It?" He asks to confirm if you're thinking of the same thing and he's not taking the wrong sign.

"Condom?"

"No need," you shortly answer, "I'm on the pill."

A jolt of excitement surges all over his body just from the thought that he'll be inside you with no layer of protection and it utterly exhilarates him that he needs to calm down for a minute. He uses the time to remove your shorts and then his sweatpants next without taking his other arm from around you.

Once he settles himself behind you, he puts his hand between your legs, lifting a leg and putting it over his hips, allowing his hard member to get between your legs. It feels a whole lot different to feel how wet you are on every inch of his length.

"Feel that?" He asks you with his mouth nestled close to your ear and his swollen cock rubbing between your folds, "I'm aching for you."

Chan kisses your mouth, your jaw, your neck as hard flesh prodding at your sex, making you stop breathing for a moment and you feel nothing but a sensuous stretching that goes on and on until he seated himself fully inside you and oh, he fits perfectly.

"It's too good. You feel– oh... I'm going to lose it," he can't comprehend what he's feeling right now.

The heat, this tightness, so perfect for him and his body asks for nothing but more and more and more of you.

Responding to his body's needs, he withdraws and then thrusts back into you, soon enough, he sets a steady pace. His free hand slides down to your bundle of nerves, touching you there for added stimulation. You grip his wrist, seemingly intending to pull him away, but your hand refuses to cooperate.

The twin assaults of his fingers and his cock that fills you full kindle a flame inside you that spread all over you like wildfire. Your mouth is parted open but all that comes out are gasps and sighs of pleasure so instead of words, you communicate how you feel through your body. You spread your thighs wider and writhe to match his thrust for thrust.

There's nothing but the sounds of his hips slapping your ass and his cock that incessantly slipping in and out of you, and he likes how he finds peace despite his body being in pure chaos.

With his mouth lingering close to your ear, he knows you hear every shudder of his breath to the lowest of his sultry moans slipped out of his mouth, and honestly, he would have been embarrassed if it weren’t for your hand tangled in his curls and keep pulling him for a kiss, before finding his hand that rests on your chest and hold it.

"Perfect..." the word tumbles out of his mouth as your fingers slip right between the spaces of his fingers and lace it together.

"Ah, ah, ah," more moans fall out of your lips as you arch into him, and through it all, your eyes locked in a gaze with his, letting him see the pure pleasure that builds up inside you.

Chan has slept with a handful of people, but he’s never been so in tune with someone's body. He’s never been so desperate to please or so elated when he hears you cry his name as you cum around him.

The high takes you over and also your ability to move, speak, and think. You curl up, making you feel smaller against him. The hand interlaced with his tightens as he speeds up the motions of his hips and with one last deep thrust, he joins you in falling apart.

Using this tender moment to pour his affection for you, he's whispering your name and kissing you softly, then slowly, he eases out of—

"No, don't!" Your hand grabs at his hips, hard, nails digging into the flesh, "Stay."

Obeying your words, Chan holds you close, limbs to limb, skin to skin, hearts lying so close to each other with mere flesh and bones in between. He doesn't know what this was, but it sure as hell was not fucking. He kisses you hard and soft to find out.

It's when he pulls away and looks into your eyes that he figures out the answer as the most incredible feeling of being loved washes over him.

When Chan wakes up the next morning. He registers the sunlight on his face, the distant barking of a neighborhood dog, and the delicious smell of buttered toast and coffee, it's all around him and—

It just hits him that he's waking up on your sofa and he burrows into the blanket with a happy sigh once he recalls everything that happened last night to the tiniest details, summoning the butterflies to flutter around in his stomach.

The sound of your footsteps forces him to get out of his daze and he scrambles to get up when you walk past the sofa on your way to the kitchen.

"Morning!" He cheerily greets you while covering his naked lower half with the blanket.

Without looking and with your hands tying your hair, you fainty reply to his greeting, "Morning."

You didn't reply to his level of enthusiasm but that's okay, he just doesn't expect you to be this stoic this early in the day. Instead of searching for his sweatpants, he wraps the blanket around his hips like a towel and waddles his way to the kitchen.

"You're up early," he says, noticing that it's barely seven and he knows you usually leave for work a little after eight, sometimes close to nine.

"Early appointment. Have to do a client's hair. Wedding," you concisely explain as you quietly sip your coffee from a big red mug.

It's strange, the way you speak and how your eyes are looking anywhere but in his direction. For now, he's going to think that you're just tired and not fully meeting your dose of caffeine yet

"Okay, so what's for breakfast?" He asks, excitedly tapping the dining table with his hands and grinning at you.

"Toast and coffee," you say while standing on your toes to get a glass from the top cabinet.

"Anything but coffee, please?" He politely asks, watching you walk the other way to get a carton of orange juice out of the fridge.

It's a sunny day but the room shares the same temperature as the glass of orange juice you pour into his glass. He observantly watches you, searching for any clues whether this is how you are in the morning or something is actually off with you.

There's one way to know, first, he takes a small sip of his juice to help with his dry throat and then jabs around the topic, "Last night was fun, don't you think?"

There's no answer and he can't see your reaction toward it when you're standing with your back facing him and he begins to think that it's the latter.

"I'm thinking we should do this again next Friday but I'll get to pick what we're going to watch and you bring—"

"Chris, I'm sorry but..." You swiftly turn on your feet and check the time on the clock, "I have to leave now."

"Sure, yeah, you can't be late for a wedding," he playfully says while keeps searching for your eyes to make you look at him.

You walk around your apartment to gather your things, your phone, and your wallet, stuffing them into a purse. You grab another bag which he guesses is one you usually carry for work and that only confirms that you're indeed leaving for an appointment.

"You can stay for breakfast and use the spare keys to lock the door when you leave," you say those things in a hurry as you drag your bag to the foyer.

He turns on his chair to look at you as he jokes, "We've only slept together twice and you're already giving me your apartment keys?"

Unfortunately, the jokes fall short as he hears nothing but the sound of the knob turning and you're getting out of the apartment.

"Have a great day at work!" He shouts at you but all he gets in response is the door closing and then clicks in place.

Chan can't tell anymore if you're leaving for work or you're leaving him, but it feels like he's getting his karma for always being the one leaving in the morning.

It's wedding season and that explains why there are a lot of scribbles on your calendar, you have a lot of appointments to do this month, and you get so busy that he's hardly seeing you lately.

Work is one thing he can understand but you can't possibly work 24 hours a day without a day off, right? At one point, he should have caught you leaving or coming home from work, whichever it is, the chance never comes to him, not even once.

Chan begins to wonder if you're avoiding him, he knows because there's a slight difference to it and it's in the purpose. You've been purposely doing things to avoid him.

With an excuse prepared in his head, Chan comes knocking on your door the next Friday night. He's been keeping your spare keys and can easily let himself in but that would be impolite, he needs to be on your good side to earn your trust.

After a few times knocking with no answer, he lets himself in but not because he has the spare keys, the door is unlocked so he figures you must be at home and doing something that makes you unable to get the door.

"Anyone's home?" He shouts into the void in your living room and hesitantly walks further inside.

Hearing the loud humming of a hairdryer, he walks to your bedroom. Unexpectedly, you're coming out as he's about to walk in.

"Oh, God!" You gasp in surprise as you hold the front of your bathrobe together, "What are you doing here?"

In contrast, Chan laughs seeing your shell-shocked expression in his presence. He then crosses his arms together and leans the side of his body against the doorframe, not forgetting to wear his grin as he answers to you, "Just checking to see if my neighbor is alive."

"Well, I'm alive," You're talking as you're taking dresses out of your closet, "and I need your help."

Looking at your mood and the way you talk normally to him, he concludes that the thought that you've been purposely avoiding him was just a silly thought after all. Other than that, you need his help and he likes being needed by you.

"I'm at your service," Chan says, permitting himself to step into your bedroom and sit on the end of your bed.

You're standing in front of him, holding up two dresses in your hands, one is a white line dress with a v-neck and the other is a body-hugging velvet dress in a deep burgundy color. Both will look good on you but he needs to know one thing before he gives his vote.

"Are we going out tonight?" He playfully asks, feeling a buzz of excitement filling him.

You turn around to face the full-length mirror while holding the dress in front of you in turn to give you ideas on how it will look on you.

"I have a date," you tell him.

Hearing that, the excitement in his body vanishes in a second and is replaced by a cold shudder of panic. He tries to laugh it off in denial.

"A–a date?" He stammers.

"Uh-huh," You end up settling the dress situation yourself by choosing to go with the white linen dress, "Can you get out of my room so I can change?"

His subconscious has the tendency to obey you, he gets up from the bed and walks out of your room, and he lingers there by the door, contemplating whether he should push the conversation or not.

"With who?" He doesn't want to know but curiosity gets the best of him.

"A guy I met at one of the weddings," you share from inside your bedroom.

"Is this—" he pauses to swallow air, "Is this your first date?"

"Yes and I'm excited," your voice grows louder and soon, the door cracks open and you reveal yourself to him, "Now, tell me I made the right choice?"

He takes a staggering step backward and asks, "On the date or the dress?"

You take a look at yourself on the round mirror hanging on the wall, "Is it too casual? No?"

For a second, Chan forgets about the direness of the situation and takes a good look at you, the dress compliments your shape so well, the hem flares up like a blooming flower and the v-cut neckline offers a modest cleavage, perfect for a first date. If he has to be honest, even without the dress, it won't make you less comely but he hates that you look this good and it's not for him.

"You look... good," he tries to make it sound like your appearance doesn't make any impression on him.

You wipe the excess lipstick on the corner of your mouth then look over your shoulder, "And the date?"

He doesn't expect you to give him the chance to say something about it and obviously, he's going to try his best to intercept your plan.

"Don't you think it's too soon?" He follows you as you head back to your bedroom then stops at the doorway as you enter the bathroom after, "To get on a date."

You take off the hair rollers nestling on the crown of your hair and your hair flows down like big springs, then brush it down with your fingers.

"You told me yourself that I should get out there and find new love," you return his words to him.

That feels like he's just slapped himself in the face. Why did he tell you that? Oh, yeah, that's because he wants you to start opening up so he can let himself in and fill that position.

"But that's not– I just didn't think..." his words trailing off as he can't exactly explain the reason why he said it, not now at least.

You put all of your hair to the front then flip it all together to the back, you're shaking the end with your fingers, sending the sweet smell of your shampoo flying around in the room.

"Didn't think what?" You curiously ask as you apply a fresh coat of lipstick on your lips, the shade is bright red like a flamethrower.

"When I said you should start finding a new love, I was hoping that you could finally see me and..." he can't find another way of telling you without saying it out loud, "perhaps, you can find it in me."

That makes you stop whatever you're doing and turn around on your feet, leaning against the bathroom counter, you look at him in eerie silence, and then out of nowhere, a laugh bursts out of you.

"Chris, stop playing!" You brush past him on the way out of the bathroom.

He's trailing behind you as you pick up a purse from a collection of them in your closet, "I'm not playing," he assures you.

"Okay, yeah, I trust you," you half-heartedly respond, heading out and going to the foyer to pick your shoes next.

"Can you please look at me?" He pleads as he waits for you to make up your mind with your choice of shoes.

"Just look at me, please?" He begs again, desperately.

You take your chosen shoes and hold them in one hand as you hold his gaze, "Okay, I'm looking at you."

In those fierce eyes, Chan finds the courage to assess his feelings and tries to fathom them into words. He inhales air before letting it out in a long, low sigh.

"Don't go on that date," he demands.

"Why?"

"Because I want you here."

"Chris, that's not a good enough reason," you say with a low laugh.

He gently places his hands on each of your elbows and tenderly stares into your eyes, "Then go ahead, ask me that one question."

"What question?"

"Ask me what are we," he steadily holds your gaze even though he feels a whirlwind in his head and chaos stirring inside his chest.

You brush it off with a laugh, "Why should I ask you—"

"Just ask me the question!" He accidentally raises his voice at you and immediately lowers his voice after, he looks down to take a breather before looking back into your eyes, "Ask me what are we!"

It feels like an eternity waiting for you to ask him that but he has the patience and an answer to that, he only needs you to ask him that.

You drop the shoes onto the floor and take a step forward, you hold his gaze as he holds his breath. Deep down, he knows that you'd have to be blind to not see the light of affection in his eyes.

To his dismay, you unexpectedly retreat and pick up everything with you toward the door. With your back turned to him, you say, "I don't want to be late for the date."

It's been an hour since he came back from your apartment and he's still stuck in the denial stage. He's lying in the dark and stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, ignoring his phone that's been tirelessly blaring with notifications.

It's not a rejection if you don't give him a definite, abundantly clear answer, right? Besides, there's a chance that the guy blew the date and you can see that he's the better man. Is he though? Is he any better?

There are two ways to handle this situation. One, he can try to forget all about it, hit call back on one of the girls contacting him right now, get out of here, and distract himself with a physical release. Or two, wait because there's something in him that tells him to wait just a little longer.

But wait for what? Wait until you return from your date? Wait until he sees it happens, you with your new beau, all lovey-dovey next door?

It seems like he's finally progressed into the next stage: anger.

Every thought that crosses his head right now is not nice and he needs an outlet for this anger. He shoots up from the bed, he starts pacing back and forth in the room, hands balled into fists, he gets this urge to punch something, he wants to— No, he can't wait with this ugly feeling slowly taking over him and driving him insane.

"Fuck this," he curses out loud into the void in his apartment, he picks up his phone and texts someone about meeting up tonight.

While typing a text, knocking comes on his door, and whoever it is, they'd better not piss him off or— the knocking comes again, he exhales air out of his mouth to calm down and walks in heavy steps to get the door.

It seems as if his anger wasn't there in the first place, the second he opens the door and sees you, all of those nasty thoughts vanish into thin air.

You're carrying your shoes in one hand and the other is holding one side of the doorframe. You look at him with a smile ever so softly blooms on your face, "So..."

See? It wasn't a rejection. He just needed to wait a little longer and God, he was glad he did.

"So...?" He asks back, holding the urge to smile back at you.

You daringly stare into his eyes as you take a step into his apartment, "So... what are we, Chris?"

It's crazy how your magnetic field is so strong that he can't stand being this close to you and not touching you, his hesitant hands are reaching for you, they retreat and give, doing it for a while until you drop everything off your hands and put your hands around his shoulders. Indirectly permitted him to put his hands on you.

"What are we, mmh?" You ask again with your eyes flickering like they hold stars in them.

"We are..." he considers to let the truth out but what's the fun in that? He needs to get back at you for making him doubt everything earlier, "Neighbors."

"No," you shake your head in disagreement, "You're definitely going to say something else."

Luckily, he's strong enough to hold you steady as you put your whole weight against him, leaving not even an inch of gap between your bodies.

"Someone still has her panties in a twist," he playfully responds with his charming grin on, dimples and all.

"Shame on you because I don't have any panties on," you say with your small smile turning into a broad one.

His eyes widen in slight shock, and his hand automatically glides downward, landing a caress on the curve of your ass and slipping under the hem of your dress to check whether your words are true or not. His fingers edge at the lacy fabric of your underwear and it turns out to be the latter.

"Ugh, you're lying!" He groans in complaint but it doesn't make him less happy, he's elated, and his heart is about to burst.

"Partly."

"How so?"

"Because you're about to take them off," you shamelessly say.

Chan wants to let go of all the things that hold him back. He brings both of your lips together, he kisses you like you're oxygen and he's short on air. He runs his hands down your back to your hips, cupping your sweet ass, and pulls you even closer. You struggle to get closer as he kisses you deep and hard your head tilted to the back, you weave your fingers through his hair as you pour yourself into the kiss.

Everything that happened before this is in the past now, all he knows now is your taste and the hot sighs of your breath, and then this irrepressible want to devour you.

"I'm going to carry you to bed," Chan's plush lips brushing yours as he speaks.

The idea of carrying you to bed is highly appealing to him at the moment. He likes holding you and as messed up as it was, he wants to throw you onto the bed, in the most respectful way.

"Then what are you waiting for, kangaroo boy?"

A sharp gasp escapes your mouth as he swoops you into his arms and carries you in the direction of the bedroom. You have your arms looped around his neck to hold onto and place kisses along his jaw all the way to his bedroom.

Instead of throwing you onto the bed like he planned, he throws both of you onto the bed and it quakes, he immediately props an elbow against the mattress to not put his weights on you.

"God, you're so beautiful," his sigh tells how overwhelmed he is by what he's seeing and what a privilege that he's able to place kisses on such beauty.

When you try to gasp a mouthful of air, he breathes it into you with his hand resting on your jaw, you look up at him, and a starburst of emotion expands inside him. He thinks you see it in his eyes because you softly smile at him.

Giving you time to breathe, he shifts his focus elsewhere, he kisses and sucks on your neck, all the while his hands are keeping your body closely pressed against him, making you aware of the firm flesh prodding your crotch through his blue jeans.

The next thing is his mouth searching for the source of the heat and your body goes into total system failure as his mouth inches closer to where you want him. Between your thighs, you flush and tingle with wanting.

"This smell..." he hums as he buries his nose in your clothed sex, making you able to feel every sharp intake of air he inhales through his nose.

He pries his mouth open and plants it on your heating wetness, not caring about the lacy fabric that blocks him from tasting it raw.

"Mmh..." he deeply hums again, almost like the low roar of a wild animal hunting at night, "I want this smell all over me."

The intensity of your desire frightens and embarrasses you at the same time, you need a little control but control is gone when Chan tugs the waistband of your underwear between his teeth and begins to pull it down your legs.

He places his hands on the back of your thighs and slowly, lifts both of your legs upward as he keeps biting your underwear. You're watching as he tries to take it off of you with such determination.

Once he succeeds, he grabs the underwear from between his teeth and holds it up to show you his latest conquest, "Twisted panties no more," he says with a sly grin.

Instead of tossing it aside, he puts the underwear into the back pocket of his jeans, "I'm keeping it."

There are so many layers of clothing keeping him from feeling your skin but he can start by removing his t-shirt, having no problems showing you his taut muscles and his pale skin that reddens around the chest, neck, and both ears.

Next, Chan grabs your knees, he pulls them apart to bare your sex to his eyes and his chest expands on a sharp inhalation. The look on his face tells it all, he wants you, he wants you so bad that he swallows air, sending his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

It's the first time that he gets to see it open and bare, gushing with essence, tantalizing. He leisurely takes his time to admire it while plotting things he wants to do to it.

He rubs his hands down the sides of your thighs and lowly sighs, without his eyes straying away from the sight between your legs, he says, "You have the prettiest little—”

He thinks he's imagining it but he's not the only one hearing knocks on his apartment door. Sensing someone else's presence, your legs instinctively shut and you pull the hem of your dress down.

"Chris, are you expecting someone?" You ask with your forehead wrinkled in question.

"No," he shortly answers, he doesn't want you to think that he's waiting for someone else other than you, "I don't—"

The knocking comes again a while later, a little too aggressive that both of you can't ignore it anymore.

"Someone is knocking on your door," you say.

"Yeah, but I swear, I don't—"

You place your hand on his waist and look at him, "well, then, get the door and find out."

He'd rather have someone sawing him off of you than having to voluntarily get away from you, whoever this person is will be responsible for what's not going down at this moment.

"Only if you promise you won't change your mind," he tells you with a sly smirk.

"If you don't hurry and get the door, I might," you say back.

"Stay still. Don't move. Not even an inch," he pecks your lips for every warning with both hands cupping your face. He plants another long peck on your lips before dashing toward the front door and thinking of just sending this person away so he can get back to you.

This is where he makes a mistake. He doesn't check through the peephole and opens the door right away, having the faintest idea that catastrophe awaits on the other side of the door.

"Ah, there you are!" The girl says, jumping at him and immediately locking lips with him.

It happens so fast that by the time Chan registers it, the girl pulls away but keeps her arms looped around his shoulders.

"I came here as soon as I received your text," she grabs his chin and kisses his slacked-open mouth, "I hope I didn't make you wait long."

On the other end of the room, he hears your footsteps coming and soon, you come into his sight. You look so calm and he'd prefer a raging sea because with calm water, he never really knows what he's dealing with.

With an enigmatic smile, you look at him and say, "You know what, Chris? I change my mind."

Support my works by reblog, comment or consider tipping me on my ko-fi!

@svintsandghosts @abiaswreck @ppiri-bahng @drhsthl @idkluvutellme @biribarabiribbaem @skz-streamer @biancaness @hanjisunginc @elizalabs3 @laylasbunbunny @kpopformylife @caitlyn98s @hann1bee @mamieishere @is2cb97 @marvelous-llama @bluenights1899 @sherryblossom @toplinehyunjin @hanjisbeloved @yourmomscuntis2tighy @sunnyseungup @skz4lifer @stellasays45 @severeanxietyissues @avyskai @imseungminsgf @silentreadersthings @army-stay-noel @rylea08 @simeonswhore @jebetwo @yubinism @devilsmatches @septicrebel @rairacha @ven-fic-recs @hyunjiinnnn @lostgirlinthewoodss @schniti-is-in-the-house @jisunglyricist @minh0scat @simplymoo @armystay89 @tirena1 @modesttiger

#stray kids smut #skz smut #bangchan smut #bangchan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #seospicy smut

1K notes · View notes

strawberry-jackalope · 2 years

Text

felt like I was beginning to get all lost personality again, so I went and got my hair cut and dyed

#Also bleached and dyed a friend's hair #Not sure how I'll feel later #Like is this what I needed but also I definitely needed the haircut #gotta love the feeling that you've lost of personal sense of self and feeling #I think it's the overwhelming amount of bullshit they try to spring on you once you reach a certain point of college #Ya know like suddenly you're almost a senior and now's the time to get on that research and conference shit #Like if you don't start now publish or die will just be instant academic death #Please plot out your life for the foreseeable future with color coding and bullets for every possible moment!#And like #It's just exhausting #And I am overwhelmed with stuff like class and my alarming amounts of stuff #But it was nice to try and get back into the body I'm supposed to have #also dying Ettie's hair blue was super cool #So maybe things will be okay #But like... If I have to keep going back to the 'to feel in control I have to modify my look' I may not be as stable as people think #Something to bring up in therapy I guess #These tags are all over the place idk y'all

1 note · View note

pedrospatch · 2 years

Text

weakness

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s place takes one hell of an unexpected turn for you and Joel when hidden feelings start coming to the surface.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA JOEL. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is in his early 50’s). mentions of reader having longer hair/her hair gets brushed, reader wears a dress, no specific mention of reader’s size, but there is a brief mention of the dress fitting loose on her, Frank is sweet and makes her feel pretty, Bill is a grump, Joel is kind of soft, hidden feelings. dashes of angst, fluff, and an abundance of Frank being an absolute angel.

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY. NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 5.7k

“Can you stop fidgeting for just one second, please?” Frank scolds you lightly, bringing down the palm of his hand onto your shoulder in a small, quick slap in an attempt to get you to stop squirming. He then moves his hands back up to your hair, which is out of its usual braid and towel dried after a much, much needed wash. The sickeningly sweet scent of the floral shampoo you’d used in the shower earlier that afternoon lingers deliciously in the air around you, a refreshing and welcome change from what your hair normally smells like—grime and smoke from hours of work detail in the Boston QZ. After coming out all of the stubborn tangles that he can find, Frank then picks up a boar hairbrush and he carefully begins to run it through your locks. He starts from the roots of your hair and brings the natural bristles down, all the way through to your ends. He chuckles and says, “You know, I would be done a hell of a lot quicker if you would just sit still.”

You sigh softly, but impatiently, allowing yourself one final, uncomfortable little shuffle in the white wicker chair he has you perched on before finally giving into his request. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” you mumble You bring your knees up against your chest and exhale another small sigh. You can’t see his face, but you can picture the smug, satisfied smile on Franke’s face as he continues brushing your hair. “So, tell me again why we’re even doing this?” you question him just a minute later, as if he hasn’t already explained it to you about a hundred times—he wants to do something special for you. “It kind of seems like a complete waste of time, don’t you think so?”

“We’re doing this because you deserve to get dolled up for once in your adult life,” Frank states in a matter of fact tone. The world had ended when you’d been about seven years old, and he’d imagined that since then, you’d never done a single damn thing for your appearance—besides the occasional at home haircut you would give yourself every few months with an old pair of rusted shears. He’d have been absolutely right about that. “And besides, it’s something of a special occasion today,” he adds. “It’s the first day of spring. The weather outside is stunning, our flowers are finally in full bloom, and we have a nice outdoor lunch planned to celebrate the new season.”

You can’t help the way the corners of your mount turn upwards into a small smile. One might think it was all rather silly, given it was the end of the world and all, but you have to admit, you admire the way Frank manages to find genuine happiness and joy in the little things, like warm sunshine on the first day of spring. Or showing a friend what a proper hairbrush looks like. He has such a beautiful soul, something that very, very few people in this new world possess.

“Your hair is so healthy,” Frank observes a few minutes later, setting the hairbrush aside. Taking two handfuls of your hair from the front, he twists them gently and brings them around to the back of your head. He then secures them with a clear, elastic band and runs his fingers through your soft locks, maneuvering your hair until it cascades perfectly around your shoulders. Frank walks around your chair to face you, fussing until he makes sure that every stand is neatly in place. He smiles. “You should wear your hair down more often, you know. It really suits you.”

“Long, loose hair and work detail are a recipe for disaster,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. “Most of the work sites in the zone require anyone who has longer hair to keep it tied back, anyway.” You push your legs out away from your chest and plant your feet firmly on the floor. “Listen, Frank. I really do appreciate what you’re trying to do for me. I really do,” you swear. “It’s incredibly sweet, but there’s really no point. In just a few hours, Joel and I are going to have to head back into Boston where my hair goes back into its braid and I have to change back into my normal clothes.”

“Exactly. So how about you just zip it and enjoy this while it lasts?” he suggests with a tiny, cheeky grin.

“But Frank—”

“Honey, this is a fight you simply aren’t going to win, so hush. Now, come with me.” He takes your hand, pulling you out of the chair and up to your feet. “Close your eyes,” he instructs, and with a reluctant sigh, you do as you’re told. Frank leads you over towards the full length mirror in the far corner of his and Bill’s bedroom. “Okay. One, two, three—open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open and your mouth parts slightly in surprise.

“What the fuck,” you murmur underneath your breath, taken aback by the reflection in the mirror. The young woman staring back at you, she looks absolutely nothing like you. The hair, the hint of blush on your cheekbones—the color he’d found was one one that flatters the tone of your skin—and the thin coat of decades old mascara that he’d applied to your eyelashes; the tube had been bone fucking dry, but Frank used a few drops of water to bring it back to life, swearing up and down it was fine to put near your eyes. And then there was the dress, the goddamn dressed he’d force you into. His favorite part of the makeover and your least favorite.

“Wait until you see what I found for you to wear,” he’d told you, giddy as if it were him who would be donning a new outfit. “You’re going to love it!”

Skeptical, you had asked, “Am I though?”

Frank had gone to the boutique and found you a dress to wear, and while it was just a tad loose on your frame, he insisted that it would look just fine on you with the help of a safety pin hidden at the back of it, pulling the fabric taut. It was simple enough, white with a subtle sweetheart neckline and thin straps that tied together at your shoulders. The delicate lace fell down in a flowing skirt to just a few inches above your knees and it itched like hell, especially at your sides. Wanting to add a finishing touch to the outfit, Frank had brought you a pair of brown, strappy sandals and he’d let you know that he had a couple of different color options for a cardigan in the event it became too chilly outside.

“You look perfect,” he gushes. “Like a daydream!”

You look different. But that isn’t what brought on the shock. More than anything, you’re completely taken aback by how fucking normal you look.

Sure, coming over to Bill and Frank’s always gave you a temporary sense of normalcy. They always allowed you to take a hot shower, gave you the opportunity to properly wash your hair and change out of your dirty shirt into a new clean one. They always provided you with a warm meal presented on porcelain dishware that wasn’t stained or chipped like the shit you had back home in your crumbling apartment in Boston. You’d had several tastes of normal thanks to those two, but this drastic change to your appearance was overwhelming. Too overwhelming.

You’d never thought that you could look like this, not in this fucking lifetime.

Frank immediately picks up on your emotions, senses how you’re feeling. Standing behind you, he places his two hands on your shoulders and leans his head forward, pressing his cheek against yours as his kind eyes meet your tearful gaze in the mirror. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers, giving your shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I really hope you feel beautiful. You deserve it. You deserve so much more, but if I can at least give you this much, then my mission is accomplished.”

You open your mouth to speak, but words fall short. Afraid that you might burst into tears on the spot, you clamp your mouth shut and give him the tiniest little nod of your head accompanied by a quivering smile of gratitude.

Frank smiles back. “Good. Now, come on, let’s go out front and have lunch.” His hands fall from your shoulders and he ushers you out into the hallway and towards the staircase. Looking over his shoulder, he gives you a wink. “I’m really eager to see what your man thinks of your new look.”

“What?” you sputter, almost tripping over your own two feet. “Who—you mean, Joel?”

Shit. You’d almost forgotten about Joel.

What the hell is he going to say when he sees you like this?

What’s he going to think?

Probably that you look utterly fucking ridiculous, that’s what.

“Who else would I be talking about? Bill?” Frank snorts. “Yes, I’m talking about Joel.”

You glare at his back. This isn’t the first time Frank has teased you about Joel Miller, and despite the countless times you’ve sworn to him that there was nothing going on between the two of you, he insists on believing otherwise, adamant that there has to be something more there. “Don’t start with this shit again. He is not my man, and you damn well know that.”

“He might as well be,” Frank shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as he leads you down the staircase.

“Frank, I’m being serious,” you say. Normally, weren’t so uptight about it all, but today, you’re not finding his antics amusing in the slightest, not while you’re wearing goop on your face and sporting a fucking dress. “I’ve told you a million times that there is nothing going on between me and Joel. He’s my partner.” You pause briefly, realizing how that must have sounded, and add in emphasis, “He’s my work partner. We work together, Frank. We smuggle shit together. That’s it.”

Frank stops at the bottom of the staircase and turns to you, letting out a curious hum. “Hmm. And if I remember correctly, you two also live together, you sleep in the same bed together, you spend every waking moment from sunrise to fucking sunset together—I have never heard of two work partners being that close, sweetheart.”

Stubborn, you shake your head. “He’s like fifty!”

“The world ended and that’s your concern? An age gap?” he questions. “Really?”

“Frank,” you plead his name, groaning. “I swear it. We’re nothing to each other. Joel is—well, he’s Joel. He’s not exactly the type of man who does that. You know, feelings and shit.”

He throws his head back slightly, letting out a loud laugh that echoes through the foyer of his home. “Oh, trust me. I know that much. Between you and me, I have to say that he reminds me a whole lot of Bill,” he muses. He notices the horrified expression that crosses your face and laughs again, holding up his hands in defense. “Wait a minute, just hear me out. They’re polar opposites in some ways, but in most ways, they’re almost the same fucking person. Joel is just like Bill. Cranky. Grumpy. He hates everyone and everything. Kind of man who’ll stab someone if they so much as look at him the wrong way. Would you say that’s pretty accurate?”

“Yeah, sounds like Joel Miller,” you have to admit. As much as you did not want to think of Joel being the same person as Bill, Frank had a pretty good point.

“But Joel also reminds me of Bill because he’s the kind of man who means well when it comes to the people that he cares about. The kind of man who will do whatever it takes to protect what is his,” he further explains. He pauses and then asks, “Let me ask you something. You trust him, right?”

You don’t even miss a beat, answering, “Of course. With my life.”

He ticks his index finger at you. “Aha! Exactly!” he exclaims. “You know that Joel would never let anyone lay so much as a finger on you. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. And why is that?”

You stare at him blankly, unsure of how to respond. “Is this a trick question?”

Huffing, Frank rolls his eyes and lets out a disappointed sigh, as if you’d missed the obvious. “It’s because you mean something to him, sweetheart. Whether you choose to let yourself believe it or not, you mean something to Joel Miller.”

For a moment, it feels like all the wind’s been knocked out of you.

Could Frank actually be right?

Do you actually mean something to Joel?

No, that was impossible. Joel Miller doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything—all he cares about is surviving long enough to find Tommy again one day, and even then, he never speaks of his younger brother too kindly. He’s been hardened by this world, closed himself off, put up a barrier around himself that nothing can permeate. Not even you.

“Under that tough, rugged exterior, there’s a soft spot. It’s there, for you and only for you.” Frank’s eyes glimmer, speaking a truth he’s been wanting to tell you for the better part of the last several months. “You might need to do some digging to find it, but it’s there.”

“I just don’t understand why you would think that,” you confess, shaking your head. “Joel has never said anything to me to indicate that I mean something to him. More often than not, I find myself wondering if even considering us to be friends is too generous.” You cross your arms over your chest, growing uncomfortable under his knowing stare. “Yes, Joel looks out for me, but that’s only because we work together so well. I know my way around. He needs me, especially if he plans on getting to Tommy.”

Frank bites his bottom lip, stifling another laugh.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Oh, sweetheart. You don’t even realize it, do you?”

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. “What? Realize what?”

“You are his weakness.”

He’d said it so simply, and yet there goes the rest of your air leaving your lungs, an invisible first driving itself right into your gut.

“Of course Joel isn’t going to tell you how he feels about you. He’s afraid,” Frank remarks, sounding so sure as if he had been told that by Joel Miller himself.

“You’re wrong. Joel isn’t afraid of anything,” you counter in the steadiest voice you can muster. “You’re wrong, Frank.”

“He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.” Any trace of teasing or playfulness had disappeared from Frank’s expression. He speaks gently, but with purpose, with such seriousness that it makes your heart sink further and further down into the pits of your stomach.

When you speak again, your voice is strained, thick with emotions you’re trying so desperately to shove down. “Frank, you really need to put down the fucking romance novels.” Before he can say another word to you about it, you place a hand lightly on your stomach. “I’m really hungry. Can we go eat now? Please?”

Thankfully, he gets the hint to drop the subject.

“Of course. Come on” Frank takes your hand. He opens the front door and leads you outside and onto the freshly landscaped front lawn. He had been right, the flowers were in full bloom—the small, round table he’d set was positioned in a perfect spot so that no matter where anyone sat, they would have a view of the colorful roses and azaleas he and Bill had planted around the perimeter of the yard.

As soon as he sees you two approaching, Bill throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. “It’s about goddamn time!” He grouches loudly. “Jesus Christ, Frank. I’m fucking starving!”

“Sorry, got caught up inside.” Frank tosses his partner a sweet smile as he releases your hand. “But look, I found myself something pretty!”

Heat floods your cheeks. You should have known better than to think he wasn’t going to make a fuss about your new appearance. “Frank, please. Don’t.”

“Oh come now, you know I have to show you off!”

Joel, whose back had been turned towards you, furrows his eyebrows and he glances over his shoulder, looking to see what Frank was referring to. His dark brown eyes widen just ever so slightly, the grip around his glass of red wine tightening in complete surprise at the sight of you. Frank had failed, quite miserably, to convince him to dress up for the occasion, but at the very least, he’d talked him into wearing one of the nicer shirts he'd found at the boutique, a neatly pressed, sage green button up with long sleeves that, much to Frank’s chagrin, Joel had rolled up to his elbows. His graying, dark brown curls might have even had a comb run through them, but it;s difficult to tell if the way his thick locks were effortlessly disheveled was natural or the result of his efforts to tame them.

“What do you think, Joel?” Frank beams proudly, as if presenting the man with one of his painted art pieces.

Joel doesn’t respond. His eyes remain glued on you, following as you walk around the table and take your usual place beside him.

“Way to put me on the spot, Frank,” you mutter, your face growing warmer and warmer with every second that ticks by. You silently urge yourself to get a grip as you reach for the crisp, white cloth napkin next to your plate and drape it over your lap. The smoked, wild rabbit Bill had cooked up for lunch smells heavenly—Frank knows it’s your absolute favorite dish, and so he had made sure Bill put it on today’s menu, bless his heart.

Joel still hasn’t uttered a single word. Part of you hopes he wouldn’t.

“Joel?” Frank prompts as he picks up his own cloth napkin. “Doesn’t she look pretty?”

You glare daggers at him from across the table and hiss, “Frank!”

Finally, Joel sets down his glass of wine and turns slowly, angling his body towards yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, but clear as day as he looks at you, “Yeah. She looks very pretty.”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, causing your heart to skip a beat inside of your chest and a strange warmth to bloom in your belly.

Had he actually meant that?

“You look real nice,” he adds, giving you a subtle nod of his head. He lets his sights linger on you for another moment before tearing his gaze away. He then turns back to the table, picking up his glass of wine once again, chugging what’s left of it before reaching for the bottle to pour himself another.

Bill clears his throat roughly. “Well, if everyone’s done playing dress up, I’d really like to fucking eat now.”

Meals with Bill and Frank were always pleasant.

Well, meals with Frank were always pleasant.

Although Bill had gotten used to having you and Joel over as guests and didn’t see either of you as a threat anymore, he still preferred to keep you both at arm’s length, a choice you two respected. He hardly ever said much and often chose to let his partner do all the talking unless the conversation had anything to do with trading supplies. Only then would he step in.

As you’d tucked into your meal of wild rabbit and garden vegetables, you could feel Joel throwing subtle glances your way every so often. It was half expected that he would, seeing as he’d never seen you like this before. He was so used to seeing you in tattered, dirty old clothes with dirt and grime caked onto your skin and in your hair.

Surely, he must have felt like he was sitting next to a complete stranger, not his smuggling partner.

About an hour later, once everyone has finished eating, you offer to help Frank clear and clean up the table and wash the dishes. He settles for letting you help him bring everything inside, but shoos you away before you can even think about lifting another finger. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” he says, waving you away from the kitchen sink with his hands. “You and Joel are taking off in just a couple hours, so go on and get some rest,” he suggests. “Oh, by the way, we found some new books to add to the collection. Might find something you like. Go ahead and check them out.”

“But I forgot my library card at home,” you joke lamely, although it earns you a sincere laugh from your friend. You pad out of the kitchen and into the living room, straight over towards a grand oak bookshelf that is packed tightly to the brim with dozens and dozens of books of various genres. You hadn’t been all that much of a reader before, but thanks to Frank, who always sent you home with at least two or three works in your pack, reading had become one of your favorite hobbies over the last few months, a sweet little escape that took you out of your shoddy apartment in the zone and into another world. You start searching the titles for the new finds he’d mentioned. Spotting one of them, you pluck it from the shelf, a paperback titled, A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Opening it up, you begin thumbing through the pages, quickly realizing that it’s play—you’ve never read a play before. Still not convinced if it’s one you would like to take home with you, you flip back to the first page and start reading with a curious little hum.

You had been so preoccupied with it that you hadn’t noticed Joel standing behind you, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest until he clears his throat, and asks, “Find somethin’ good?”

Startled, you whirl around, nearly dropping the book in your hands. “Jesus Christ, Joel,” you breathe out, clutching it tightly against your chest as your heart rate slows. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Not my fuckin’ fault you were too busy with your nose buried in a book,” he states, trying his hardest to fight the small smirk threatening to cross his lips. He uncrosses his arms and pushes himself away from the doorframe.

A chuckle escapes you, almost nervously, as he slowly starts walking over towards you, his brown boots heavy on the hardwood floor. He takes the book from your hands, humming as he reads the cover. “Shakespeare, huh?”

“You know Shakespeare?” you toss him a teeny, lopsided smile as you tease, “He from your time?”

Joel lightly smacks your arm with the worn paperback. “Yeah, I know Shakespeare and he was about four hundred fuckin’ years before my time, thank you very much.” He flips it over, eyes skimming the text on the back. “Had the world not gone to shit, you would’ve grown up and spent your entire middle school career being forced by English teachers to read all his shit and write essays tryin’ to interpret it all.” He hands it back over to you. “Here.”

“Sounds like a real fucking dream,” you deadpan. You glance down, running your index finger down the spine of the book. You’re trying, almost painfully, to ignore how Joel’s eyes glaze over you from head to toe.

“Y’know, it’s kinda nice,” he remarks quietly, breaking the brief moment of silence that had fallen over the two of you. “Seein’ you like this.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the book and scoff. “What? In a dress?”

“When we’re here, you let your guard down. Ain’t always lookin’ over your shoulder. You smile a hell of a lot more.” He pauses, then adds, “You look happy here. Sure, this dress looks nice on you. Your smile looks even fuckin’ better, though.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. More than his words, it’s the genuine tone in which he had said them—you’d never even realized Joel noticed things like that. Whether you were happy or not, how often you smiled. Or didn’t smile.

You force a small chuckle. “It’s the only sense of normalcy that we get. Of course I look happy when we’re here. Because I am happy when we’re here.” Still refusing to meet his gaze, you turn around and walk over to the couch towards your pack. Opening the top, you quickly shove the book inside.

When you hear Joel’s footsteps coming up behind you, you stiffen slightly.

“Frank, he adores the hell outta you,” Joel says. He seems to hesitate, but then continues, “You ever think of askin’ him to stay here?”

“You kidding?” You snort in response. “Bill wouldn’t allow that. Never.”

Joel’s hands go to his hips, knowing you had a point. “But you know Frank can convince him of almost anythin’, don’t you? And besides, believe it or not, Bill actually likes you. He loves Frank more than anythin’ and you make Frank happy.”

You finally turn around to face and find yourself caught off guard by how close he’s standing to you. “Joel, what exactly are you getting at?” You raise an eyebrow before playfully asking, “Are you trying to get rid of me or something, Miller?”

Joel quickly shakes his head. “Of course not. All I’m sayin’ is that—” He stops and lowers his voice, just in case Bill or Frank happen to be wandering nearby. “I like seein’ this side of you. The happy side. The normal side.” He shrugs his shoulders, the lean muscles of his upper body flexing with the movement against the smooth fabric of his shirt. “Seein’ you all cleaned up, well fed and content—” He trails off once again. “Shouldn’t be a rare occurrence, y’know? You’d clearly be better off here with them and you know that with Frank’s help, we could probably talk Bill into letting you stay.”

The second you realize he’s being serious, your smile fades.

“What? But what about you?”

“Darlin’, Frank’s good, but he’s not a goddamn miracle worker. Even if he tried, that’s not somethin’ Bill would ever go for,” Joel admits, lifting a hand and raking his fingers through his hair. “And even if he did, we’d fuckin’ kill each other by the end of the first week.”

Bill and Joel being neighbors?

Talk about a different kind of apocalypse, you think to yourself.

“I know that much,” you reply with a tiny eye roll. “What I mean is, do you honestly think that I would leave my life in Boston?”

“That ain’t no fuckin’ life—”

You hold up a hand, stopping him. “I know it’s not. But it’s my life with you, Joel.”

The rough creases on his forehead suddenly soften. That was the first time you’d ever seen that happen.

The scowl on his face wasn’t permanent after all.

“Yes, this is nice. This patch of town, this house, the running water, the food, the clothes—this is a decent life. More than decent. In this world that we’re living in, this place is heaven. But without you, all of it would mean absolutely nothing to me. I wouldn’t be happy here, not without you.”

Joel tilts his head back, shaking it lightly. “Think about what you’re sayin’ here.”

“I know what I’m saying.” Before your brain and your body can even make the connection, you find yourself taking a step towards him, shrinking the gap between your bodies even further. You glance up at him, somehow finally finding the courage to have your eyes meet his. “I refuse to leave your side, Joel. That’s never going to happen. Not if I can fucking help it. Do you understand that?”

Joel exhales the breath he’d been holding, his warm breath tickling your face.

“I mean it, Joel. We’re in this shitty ass fucking world, together. No little slice of heaven could ever get me to leave you behind, no matter how good it is,” you declare, silently wondering to yourself where the hell you were even finding the balls to confess all of this to him. “Okay?”

“You’d be safer here than in the QZ, with all that shit’s that been goin’ down—”

“I’m the safest when I’m with you, Joel. I know I am.”

You lift your hand to his face. At first, there’s minor hesitation on your part, but you will yourself to place it on his cheek. Although your touch is gentle, Joel can’t help but wince. Not because he doesn’t want you to touch him, but because it had been so fucking long since anyone had ever touched him like that.

Since he’d let anyone touch him like that.

He closes his eyes and after a second or two of resisting, he finally allows himself to relax his tense muscles and he sinks into your touch.

Joel lets himself savor the feeling of your hand on his face. His bottom lip gives a subtle tremble when you softly start to graze your thumb down along his jawline. His beard, which you often playfully tease him about now that it’s beginning to gray just like his hair, feels rough and scratchy, and yet somehow still soft underneath your fingertips.

“Hey,” you murmur, and he forces his eyes to snap open. “We’re in this together. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it’s going to stay,” you assure him. “My place is with you, Joel.”

Joel manages to speak through tight lips, his voice strained. “You really fuckin’ gotta stop talkin’ to me like that, darlin’.”

You carefully move your hand away from his face, letting it drop back down to your side. “Why?”

“‘Cause. Shit like that is dangerous.”

“Dangerous,” you repeat, almost laughing. “Of all the things—”

Then, Frank’s words from earlier come to mind.

He’s afraid because he knows how dangerous it is, having a weakness in the form of a person he cares about more than anything can be in a world like this.

Joel’s dark eyes flicker to the strap of your dress, noticing it had started sliding off your shoulder. Before he can even think to stop himself, he reaches out and pulls it up back into place, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin. “You’re so soft,” he murmurs under his breath. All those fucking years of working with you, even sharing a bed together, and he had no idea of what it was like to touch you.

“Joel…”

Your heart had all but climbed up into your throat.

“Everythin’ you just said a minute ago, ‘bout not wanting to stay here without me,” he starts to say, “I know that it’s fuckin’ selfish of me, but I’m real glad you said it. ‘Cause no way in hell do I want a life without you. I know it’s wrong but—”

Placing your hands delicately on his shoulders, you lift yourself up on your toes and cut him off mid-sentence by pressing your lips softly against his. The clean scent of the soap Frank had given him to shower with fills your senses and you yearn to have more of him, you nearly ache to get a real taste of him—but your courage only went so far. Thankfully, Joel knows to take over from here. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest while the other reaches up, the warm palm of his hand pressing against your cheek. His tongue swipes lightly across your bottom lip, silently asking for permission to explore your mouth just a little bit further.

You eagerly grant him access, half expecting his mouth to ravage yours.

Much to your surprise, Joel remains gentle.

The way that he kisses you, the way he holds your body against his, the way his large hand—the same hand that slits throats and breaks bones—delicately cradles the side of your face like you’re made of porcelain.

“Joel,” you nearly whimper his name when he breaks away.

His face remains just inches from yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, leaning his forehead against yours, fighting to catch his breath. “We’ll need to get goin’ soon.”

“I know.” You nod, hoping you don’t sound as disappointed as you feel. You can sense that Joel, much like yourself, is at war with himself over what had just happened. Not that either of you regretted it, at least you certainly don’t, but the realization that you two have just crossed a line you’ll never come back from was daunting.

Joel lifts his head, lightly pressing his lips against your forehead. He then forces himself to release you from his arms and steps back, dropping them back down at his sides. “I need to, uh, I need to go get some things from Bill. Y’know, get my pack ready before we take off.”

You nod again. “I’ll start changing and get another pack of supplies ready as well.” You pause, clearing your throat awkwardly. “Joel, about what just happened—”

He silently shakes his head before leaning down, capturing your mouth with his.

This kiss is short and quick, and when he pulls away, he says nothing. He turns on the heel of his boot and disappears, heading out to meet Bill in the garage.

Your hand flies to your mouth, your fingers lightly touching your lips.

“Well, well, well.”

Looking over your shoulder, your throat goes dry when you see Frank standing there, hands on his hips and a knowing, smug expression on his face.

“How long have you been standing back there?”

“Long enough.” Even from a distance, you catch the amused twinkle in his eye. “What did I tell you?”

You turn away from him, biting your lower lip.

So maybe he’d been right after all.

Maybe you were Joel’s weakness.

But he was yours too.

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #tlou fanfiction #tlou imagine #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader

11K notes · View notes

luveline · 1 year

Note

hot bombshell bau!reader flirting and winking at spencer every chance she gets and poor spencer just gets hot and bothered very flustered and blushing😋😋

i love you jade i read ur blog like it's the daily newspaper<33

I love you anon, thank you for requesting ♡ fem!reader

"So," says a voice, low and syrupy as warmth spreads up Spencer's side, "how's my favourite agent?"

Your perfume a subtle fragrance of jasmine and vanilla alike, sweetness that lingers —and Spencer knows, having thought of you every time he walks past the sugar ring donut stand by the Staples Mill Station for weeks— you put a hand on his shoulder and lean in for a one-armed hug. His skin erupts with goosebumps.

"Y/N," he says, sounding much too much like a wimp for his own liking. He clears his throat. "When did you get back?"

He's afraid to look at you. He doesn't have a choice. His heart skips a beat at the state of you, which is to say you look stunning in your dark clothes, a tight cut top that borders unprofessional and a pair of thigh hugging pants that pass the border completely. (He's kidding. Mostly. You're dressed fine. He's a loser, is all.)

"This morning. They couldn't keep me from you if they tried, handsome. You look good." You disengage from his side. Spencer's relieved and regretful at once. "I love the haircut, they take a little more than you were expecting?"

"Is it too short?" he asks unsurely.

"It's perfect."

Spencer's taller than you but he never feels it until you're looking up at him, pretty eyes and quirked lips, permanent amusement in your gaze. "I missed you," you say.

"Y/N," Hotch says as he descends the steps to the bullpen. "We talked about this."

"Pen and Morgan do it every day." Your eyebrows pinch together.

Hotch doesn't say anything else, an empty coffee mug in hand as he passes. You don't baulk at his disapproving look, the opposite, sitting on the edge of Morgan's desk to kick your kitten heels gently, a slow back and forth that has Spencer's eyeline pulling down your legs. He shakes it off, but not before you've noticed.

"You don't mind, do you, babe?" you ask. "My flirting?"

It'll probably kill him sooner rather than later. "No. Don't mind."

"'Cus I can stop, I promise. But you're the kind of boy that should be flirted with, you know? And the kind of smart that makes you crazy attractive, which is unfair. It's not like you needed help in that particular department." You lean back as you talk, scrounging around Morgan's things.

"Second shelf," Spencer says.

You stop your searching to grin at him. Pleased, you reach down to the second drawer of Morgan's desk and find what you'd been looking for, a coveted, half-eaten pack of cherry twizzlers.

"But we're not like Pen and Morgan," you say, bringing a twizzler to your mouth.

"We're not?" Spencer asks, confused. He may not summon the necessary charisma to flirt back, but he likes what you have.

"Nope." You take another bite, chew, leaving Spencer in anticipation. Finally, you swallow, lips curving into an even stickier smile. "'Cus Pen and Morgan are never gonna happen. They're better as friends…"

You slip down off of Morgan's desk, leaving his twizzlers behind. Spencer has enough sense about him to anticipate your approach. He's proud of himself for the composure he maintains as your footsteps slow. He even takes a step back to follow you, to your abject delight.

"But we're not just friends, are we?" you ask softly. You lift your chin. He can smell the cherry on you.

"Y/N, enough," Hotch says from somewhere behind. You refuse to look away, and while Spencer fears his chief's tone, he manages to hold your gaze. "HR will mandate another presentation."

"It's alright, Hotch," Spencer says. His cheeks are flushed and his palms are clammy, but his voice holds up. "I don't mind."

"I'm sure you don't."

"This could all be avoided if we took this somewhere a little more private," you murmur.

"Enough. I won't tell you again, Y/N. Shouldn't you be helping Penelope with her ViCAP recalibration?" Hotch asks pointedly.

Spencer takes it for what it is; an effort to separate you from each other before it goes too far. You know it too, rolling your eyes at Spencer like you've a shared secret —Can you believe this guy?— clasping his arm loosely in farewell.

"See you later, Spence." You call him handsome, babe, bub, even sweetheart, but Spence is the worst of all of them because of how you say it, your voice entrenched in pure honey. His heart pangs as you go.

Hotch lingers by Spencer's side, coffee freshly filled and steaming in rings. "You know, you're getting better," he says sympathetically.

Spencer rubs the bridge of his nose roughly. "Thanks."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

4K notes · View notes

mangostarjam · 6 months

Text

sparring accidents — kaiju no. 8, fluff, kissing, hoshina soshiro x female reader, use of "sweetheart" as a pet name, 1.3k words — part one and two

"Did you… get a haircut?"

Your Vice Captain — no. Your boyfriend — freezes in the act of reaching out to tug you closer, one calloused hand wrapped around your wrist loosely.

"... No?"

You peer up at him. "It looks like you got a haircut. Your bangs are kinda… choppy? What the heck?"

Hoshina Soshiro finishes tugging you closer and basks in the easy grin you flash at him, relaxing in your presence as he smiles back. "Wanna check?"

He's teasing. Soshiro likes the way you get flustered when he does things like this — when he gets into your personal space and invites you into his, when he navigates the new lines around your relationship and you draw some of your own.

For instance: pulling you closer? Perfectly okay, except when in front of the Captain or any higher ups, because you get worried they'll transfer you to another platoon. Any public displays of affection in front of higher ups are actually off the table entirely. In fact Soshiro sometimes wonders if Captain Ashiro even knows the two of you are dating.

In front of the others, though, you don't mind the occasional hand touch or his arm draped across the back of your chair. You seem to have a thing for touching his biceps, too — your hands always seem to drift towards them when you're passing him in the halls or tugging him closer to look at something on your computer screen.

And if both of you are off duty, you'll hold his hand freely. Soshiro likes that the most. You've gotten so comfortable with it, too — reaching back somewhat blindly for his hand, always knowing he'll lace his fingers with yours as soon as he notices, even when he's watching the way your eyes light up over some new book on display or a new dessert you want to share with him.

It makes his chest ache something fierce, thinking about that trust that he'll be there to hold your hand.

Man, he really likes you.

"You'll have to bend a little if you want me to check," you say dubiously, and Soshiro laughs.

"Need a lift, sweetheart?"

"Don't you dare," you say flatly, stretching up on tiptoes and cupping his face in your hands.

The movement brings your face very close to his face, but before he can even glance at your lips you've tugged his head down. You hum as you examine his hair, flipping the strands this way and that, and Soshiro pretends like his heart rate is normal.

"What's the verdict?"

"It looks like you got a silly uneven haircut while sparring. Were you guys using real blades?" You drop back on your heels, but your hands drift down to rest on his shoulders and he clears his throat nervously at the way your chest brushes against his — you're standing so close.

The study room isn't empty. Soshiro can hear officers nearby, the shuffling of papers, the gentle ribbing between teammates. He found you among the shelves, though, and nobody's close enough to see him settle his hands on the gentle dip of your waist beneath your lab coat.

"You think my hair looks silly?"

He doesn't keep the pout from his voice, and he's rewarded when you giggle and lean closer. His thumbs rub soothingly along your shirt and skirt, basking in the warmth of you so close to him.

"Hoshina-kun, don't avoid the question!"

"Aw, alright," he sighs, "we were usin' real blades, but I swear to ya that we were bein' careful!"

"I know you're fast, but I guess your hair wasn't fast enough to escape, too," you say. Soshiro snorts. "It's unfair, though, because even with a silly haircut you still look good."

Your shirt is loose, untucked after the long shift. His thumbs slip beneath your shirt and rub along the bare skin of your waist. He freezes for a split second, but you just sway closer to him. You're blushing. Oh. Your chest is pushing up against his, now, and your skin is so warm and soft and —

"Can you please kiss me already?"

Ah. Yeah, he can do that. He can definitely do that, no problem, you've been dating for a few months now and he's been wanting to kiss you and this is a perfect time to do that since nobody's around and you're already in his arms and your hands are shoving him downwards and —

Oh. Your lips are soft. A little chapped. He can feel his heartbeat in his ears.

"Hoshina-kun," you pull back slightly to huff a laugh, tilting your head. Soshiro can feel your lips move against his own as you whisper and it makes his head spin. "C'mon, kiss me."

You kiss him again and he groans, blood rushing through his body as he draws you closer, follows your lead and tilts his head, moves his lips against yours firmly as you kiss and kiss and kiss.

You taste a little sweet, like that strawberry pocky you like to snack on. He makes a strangled sound when you part your mouth and nip softly at his bottom lip, the slight pinch going straight south in a way that'd be concerning with how closely you're pressing up against him except you just sink your fingers into the soft fluff of his hair and sigh.

Oh, he'd do anything to hear you sigh like that again. Soshiro chases your lips when you try to pull away, snickering as you laugh and scratch at his undercut. "Someone might come by," you whisper, pressing a quick, fleeting kiss to the tip of his nose.

"I'll order them to leave," he whispers back, fingers loosening on your waist. He's left marks, probably, from how hard he was holding you, but you don't seem to mind. "We're off duty, anyway, ain't we?"

"Yeah, but we're still at work," you point out. Your eyes are sparkling under the study room lights and you're a little breathless. Soshiro wants to memorize the way you're glowing from the inside out. "It's almost time for dinner."

"But what about my hair?"

Your smile tilts into something fond as you scratch at his undercut again, sliding your fingers into the silky strands further up his head. "Don't worry, I don't think anyone else will notice your haircut."

Soshiro grins. "Are you fussin' over me right now?"

"Shut up," you say, but there's clear affection lacing through your tone. "I might've… been a little too enthusiastic. Stay still and let me fix your hair."

He obliges, keeping his hands lightly at your waist to help you balance as you comb his purple strands back into place. The calm between the two of you is peaceful. Soshiro likes moments like these, holds them close to his heart and lets them shine in his mind's eye as he breathes before heading onto the battlefield.

He feels your nails dig slightly into the back of his neck as you pull yourself up to kiss him again, a sweet, smiling kiss that makes him grin. "Careful, sweetheart, or we'll be here all night."

"No way, mister," you say, "they're serving oyakodon tonight with your favorite Mont Blanc for dessert. I asked Captain Ashiro if we could get it on the menu this week."

"For me?" Soshiro can't keep the surprise out of his voice. You tug at his collar, pulling it back into place and smoothing your hands along his shoulders and chest. Your hands are trembling, just a little bit.

"Yeah. You've been working really hard and I thought you could use a boost."

"Hmm," he leans down to kiss you lightly, basking in the ability to just do this now. "You're all I need for a boost, sweetheart. But thank you, I appreciate it."

"Don't expect kisses before you go into battle," you say, but you're giggling as he leans down for another sweet kiss. He admires the sweep of your lashes against your cheeks and nearly misses your next words. "I won't be held responsible for distracting you."

"What about as a reward?"

Your lashes flutter and he kisses you again, warmth curling and settling deep in his chest. His jacket crumples as you clutch at him for balance and he grins back at you, soft.

"As long as you don't come back with any weird haircuts."

#hoshina x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader #kn8 writing #kaiju no. 8 fic #kaiju no. 8 writing #kn8 fic #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #fuji writes fic #i am once again promoting the soft vice captain hoshina soshiro agenda

1K notes · View notes

leclerc-hs · 9 months

Text

ever heard of casual? - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem) summary: in which true feelings are kind of shown between charles and his daughter's nanny warnings: basically smut with some plot (LOL), bad french(please correct me), not proofread, 18+!!!! word count: 1,795 author's note: i really enjoyed doing the instagram au the other day so i wanted to include some of that into part 2!!! face claim is Hailey Bieber (you can picture nanny!reader however you want I just love Hailey so I'm sorry if you don't LOL). Also not kidding like single dad Charles got me in a HEADLOCK. also this is my Christmas gift to y’all 🤍 feel free to message me your thoughts!!! I love feedback and hearing from you all

part 2 to THIS (nanny series)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourbsf, lorenzotl, and 56,318 others yourusername a day well spent view all 2,376 comments leclerc_pascale tu es tellement adorable! bring her over now! yourusername on our way! user omg pascale commenting user I'm crying user i wish i could have her life charles_leclerc ❤️ user omg a heart?!!!??? user chill its prob for his daughter user a bit unprofessional if they date anyways yourbsf can't wait to see you tmrw! liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by yourexbf, yourbsf, charles_leclerc, and 62,122 others yourusername got milk? view all 3,765 comments user i'm fucking screaming user she is so fucking hot. idk how charles handles it user she's not that pretty relax user does she ever even work? how is she able to be doing this user her life is a vacation yourbsf I'm DROOOOLING yourexbf 🥛🍼🐮 user isn't this her ex boyfriend? user are they back together? user did you see her friends stories? they looked cozy 👀 user i hope so. that means she wouldn't be with Charles user she is the nanny of his daughter! leave her alone!! charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, lorenzotl, and 1,465,718 others charles_leclerc a tough few races but we gave it all we got. excited to be back home to see my girls! @vistajet view all 4,186 comments user girlS?!?? plural!!!!!! leclerc_pascale time for a haircut user LMAO user wtf girls? does he mean @/yourusername?? yourusername she's requesting you to play the piano asap!! liked by charles_leclerc and 5,392 others charles_leclerc looks like i'll have to teach you for when I'm away user OMGGGG user not him wanting to teach her piano!!!

yourbsf posted a story!

seen by arthur_leclerc, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, and 12,471 others tagged yourusername, yourexbf

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, yourexbf, landonorris, and 66,817 others yourusername about last night..... view all 1,329 comments landonorris date me please? charles_leclerc get out of her comments user LANDO SIMPING PUBLICLY user she def has most of the grid in a chokehold user CHARLES LMAO user but where is charles daughter? yourexbf such a fun night liked by charles_leclerc user they gotta be fucking or something user charles liking this. hELPPP leclerc_pascale a night deserved!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE ENSUING WEEKS unfolded in a hazy cascade, a whirlwind of experiences that blurred the boundaries of time. The dynamics with Charles remained poised, neither veering into awkwardness nor undergoing discernible alterations – an equilibrium that suited you perfectly. After all, you hadn’t harbored expectations of a budding relationship; rather, this interlude seemed more akin to an itch that required gentle satisfaction.

Well, it wasn’t altered, aside from the handful of orgasms he gave you before his departure for races. It felt as though the barrier between you both had fissured and ruptured beyond control, an unstoppable force. But you told yourself to keep it casual.

With Charles traveling the past few weeks for a triple header, the atmosphere between the two of you has gracefully sidestepped any foray into weighty matters. Interactions have been modest, primarily of facetimes with his daughter, and lighthearted banter via text messages. Aside from the one late night desperate and needy facetime call you had last week.

Yesterday marked a noteworthy occasion as, for the initial time in the span of weeks, you relished an entire day and evening in the company of all your friends. Pascale, in all her wisdom, insisted you merited a respite from the role of caregiver and assured that she will handle the little one for you.

A day immersed in sun and sea with close friends proved to be a much-needed respite from the past few weeks. This was complemented by an evening at the club, where pulsating beats, lively dance floors, and contagious laughter wove together, leaving behind a lasting sense of euphoria.

So, when you arrive to Charles’ apartment ready for a fun and relaxing day with him and his daughter for the first time since he left, you’re surprised to find Charles swinging the door open before you could even reach for the handle. You’re also surprised to find out that his daughter isn’t even here, and that she is still at Pascale’s.

“Où étais-tu?” Where have you been? His question was quick and short as he pulled you into the apartment, shutting the door behind you. You barely made two steps before his hand was gripping your hand, pulling you down the hall to his bedroom.

“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? You were confused but didn’t refuse his touch as he pushed you to sit on the edge of his bed. “Content de te voir aussi.” Nice to see you too. Recognizing a hint of sarcasm in your tone, you conclude that adopting a bratty attitude probably wasn’t the wisest choice, especially given his apparent sour mood.

He began restlessly pacing within the room, the muscles of his arms visible as he crossed his arms tightly over his chest in a display of frustration.

“Où est ma fille?” Where is my daughter? He was fully aware of his provocative tone. He possessed the knowledge of his daughter’s whereabouts, yet he seemed intent on provoking confrontation, eager to witness any response that might momentarily suppress the burgeoning jealousy within his chest.

You found his accusatory tone unsettling, especially given the fact that you would never put his daughter in harm’s way. “Pascale’s. You know this.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at him as he stood directly in front of you, a sinister gleam in his eyes as he finally made eye contact with you.

“How s’est pasée ta soirée?” How was your night? He knelt between your legs, eyes meeting yours at the same level, jaw tightly clenched. His two hands rested on each leg, fingers pressing into the skin of your thighs.

It wasn’t until then that it clicked. His behavior, all because of your night out. He knew of your ex-boyfriend from social media, but you never fully had a talk regarding him. Because why would you? This was all still very new.

Navigating the relationship of you and your ex-boyfriend proved to be intricate, primarily owing to the longstanding history you shared since diapers. Originating as childhood best friends, a mutual decision was made to preserve the amicable bond even after the breakup. Given your shared history and overlapping friend group, the decision to maintain a friendship, sparing both parties the discomfort of awkwardness.

His hands slowly traced up the inside of your thighs, his fingers instantly contacting your lace covered center, thanks to the short, pleated skirt that adorned your body.

“Tu as passé un bon moment, hm?” Did you have a nice time? His tone was mocking. You felt yourself at a loss of words as his fingers slipped past your underwear, his thumb pressing circles directly to your clit.

You nodded slowly, delusional from how good his fingers felt on you. His other hand reached for the band of your underwear, pulling them off until they piled at your feet. His thumb, not easing up on your heated center. You let out a soft moan, leaning back on your two hands, as he pushed two fingers into you. His eyes, purely focused on watching his fingers slide in and out of you, wet and slick.

“Rien à dire?” Nothing to say? His fingers sped up, your stomach clenching as you arched your back in complete pleasure.

“I’m gon—fuck,” You couldn’t get complete words out. Every time you went to talk, his fingers assault on you would increase, leaving you nothing but a moaning mess on the edge of his bed.

He pulled his fingers completely out of you, letting you scream in frustration as he edged you.

“Did you fuck him?” His words cut sharply, and the green of his eyes almost appeared black with intensity. Despite the anger he conveyed, a discernible undercurrent of vulnerability permeated his questions. It made your heart clench.

“No,” you were quick to answer. “Je ne ferais pas ça!” I wouldn’t do that!

His eyebrows furrowed as he slid his fingers back into you with urgency. “You sure?”

“Yes!” His fingers were quickly back on you, the need that bubbled deep in your stomach ready to tip over.

It wasn’t until he shoved his head between your legs, his tongue replacing his thumb, and pressing it flat to your clit, that you were careening forward with a cry.

The assault of his tongue didn’t let up until you were pulling him by the hair on the back of his head, his mouth leaving your clit with a ‘pop’ noise. His lips were glistening as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them.

“Tellement bien,” So good. He moaned with his eyes shut as he sucked you off his fingers, your eyes purely focused on his mouth and the hollows of his cheeks.

Before you could even relax, he was scooping you up and flipping you over onto your stomach, and bunching your skirt high up on your waist. A harsh smack of your butt echoed off the walls of the bedroom.

“I should fuck the salope out of you,” his voice was deep with need as you heard the unzip of his jeans from behind you. His hands pressed your face into the mattress, nearly suffocating you, as he nudges his cock through your folds. But you didn’t care, the pleasure was too good.

He slid into you easily, your saturated walls slick from your previous orgasm. The burning stretch of his cock had you cry out a muffled yelp into the mattress. “Gonna take all of me, hm?”

You agree feverently, nodding your head repeatedly with a moan. “These weeks were too long huh?” He droned on, talking you through it. “Even our facetime the other night wasn’t enough?”

Thoughts of your facetime the other night surface back quickly as his hips pound into you. How you both were so needy. How he was able to make you come on your fingers just by the sound of his voice. How he commanded your body even from thousands of miles away. Yes, that’s it. Cum all over your fingers like the good girl you are.

He felt your walls clench down on him so tightly, he groaned. “The thought of fingering yourself gets you that hot and bothered?” Another harsh slap to your butt.

You begin to cry out almost pathetically, your fingers gripping onto the sheets tightly. You turn your head, Charles hands sliding from the back of your hair to your neck, still weighing you down.

“S’il te plait,” Please. You’re begging.

“Wish I could bring you – Mon dieu – wish I could bring you with me wherever I go,” his heavy breaths were heard in between each word, as if he was struggling to keep any self-control he had left.

“But I can’t,” his voice sounds angry again. “Wouldn’t be able to leave you, can’t look at you without wanting to fuck you stupid,” He won’t shut up. Like he opened a door and can’t close it shut now. “Tu me rends fou,” Drive me crazy.

Your heart is clenching at his words. His words creating a mass of butterflies in your stomach. You can tell by the shutter of his last words that he’s close.

“Allons-y, ma cherie,” Let’s go. “That’s it,” he groans loudly as you clench around him, releasing all over him. He’s quick to pull out, releasing himself all over your backside, smearing it with the tip of his cock into you.

He rolled over to the side of you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took. The silence of the apartment was loud but comfortable as you both caught your breath.

“I don’t think I can do casual with you but I’ll try,” he mutters softly, one of his hands brushing your hair out of your face so you can truly look at him. His cheeks were rosy, the crinkles in his eyes from smiling apparent, and his hair so disheveled it made you clench your thighs together.

You roll onto your side, your hand gracing his cheek as you turn his head to look at you. “Me either,” you admit. Because truly, he was all that was ever on your mind. You didn’t want to have one foot in the door, one foot out. You wanted to be all in with him.

“Let’s just see where this goes, yeah?” He smiles, pulling you up onto his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around as your head dug into the crook of his neck. You placed gentle kisses to his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing noticeably.

You feel his length harden from underneath you again. To which, you lift your head to see him with a smirk fully spread on his lips. You furrow your eyebrows as if to say ‘really?’.

To which he responds, “Je t’ai dit.” I told you. “Tu me rends fou.” You drive me crazy.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine #don’t wake the kids cl16

1K notes · View notes

crxssbowcarl · 3 months

Text

A TRIM

carl grimes x female reader

summary: carl refused to let anyone near his hair after losing his mom, but when he desperately needs a trim he goes to the person he trusts most, you.

(intended lowercase)

warnings: mentions of losing a parent.

pure fluff

“a trim, got it?”

carl twisted around in the chair he was sitting on to face you, you could tell he was nervous and you understood why. he hadn't cut his hair since he was 13, lori used to give him haircuts and he couldn't bring himself to let anyone else do it after she died, until now.

you currently stood behind him, a pair of shears held in your dominant hand while your other held a comb and spray bottle. “yes, a trim, I got it. now, are you gonna sit still and let me start?” you teased, a brief laugh passing your lips.

he nodded, removing the bandage from around his face and setting it on the counter next to his hat. “yeah, just please be careful—”

“carl.” you interrupted, making eye contact with him through the mirror, taking in his worried expression. “I know how important your hair is to you and I will be very careful, I just need you to trust me.”

he caught his lip between his teeth before giving you a curt nod and straightening his posture. “okay.”

you gave him a reassuring smile followed by a gentle kiss to the top of his head before starting. you grabbed a section of his hair, spraying it with the water until it was drenched, repeating this until his hair was thoroughly soaked. you didn't have a lot of experience with cutting hair and you were beyond nervous, but when he came to you and asked you if you would give him a trim you didn't have the heart to tell him no.

you took a deep breath before grabbing a decent portion of hair, bringing the comb to it and running it through it, stopping about an inch from the bottom, holding it up so carl could see it, “how's that?”

“that's fine.” he concluded after a few moments of staring at it, closing his eyes tightly when you brought the scissors up to his hair.

you hesitated. you knew how important this was to him, when he told you stories about his mom your heart would ache for him, and his hair was one of the only things left he could relate to her besides judith and messing this up would break his heart.

the sound of the scissors snipping the hair caused you both to flinch, you watching the hair fall to the tiled floor.

you exchanged a glance with him to make sure he was still comfortable, and you continued, copying your previous cut over and over again until you had chopped roughly the same length of hair off of every section.

the bathroom was completely silent minus the sound of the scissors and you shuffling around, neither of you could bring yourselves to speak, both too focused on your movements to say anything.

eventually, you finished the larger part of his hair and all that was left was his bangs. you walked around so you could be face to face with him, examining the way his bangs framed his face. “okay..” you mumbled, grabbing the larger portion of his bangs between your index and middle finger using them as a guide and you worked on his fringe while trying to avoid getting any hair in the open wound on his face. once you were satisfied with how that side looked, you moved onto the other side, making a few quick snips before setting the scissors down and stepping back to admire your work.

“what do you think? did I do okay?”

he stood up, leaning closer to the mirror to examine his hair as you watched him anxiously, awaiting his reaction. you rocked back and forth on your heel, your hands interlaced behind your back, “carl?” you tried, becoming extremely paranoid that you had messed up, but your worry was quickly brought to an end when he wrapped his arms around you.

“it looks great, thank you.”

your worried expression was replaced by a geeky smile, and you returned his hug, giving him a tight squeeze. “oh thank god, I was so worried.” you laughed, pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose,

“thank you, by the way.” he looked confused at your statement, tilting his head to the side slightly, “for what?”

“for trusting me, I know that this was hard for you and i’m glad you trusted me of all people.”

he ducked his head down and nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, smiling against the exposed skin, “i’m glad I did, too.”

divider by @saradika-graphics

masterlist

921 notes · View notes

firehose118 · 25 days

Text

They go back to Miceli’s for their six month anniversary.

It’s stupid to celebrate something like that, Buck knows, but every day he’s spent with Tommy has felt like a gift. He wants to make up for that first date, when he threw their newly sprouting relationship away the moment he got spooked by someone else knowing about it. By someone knowing about him. He wants to show Tommy how far he’s come. He wants to show Tommy how committed he is.

Buck had made the reservation online two weeks ago. He’d called this morning, as soon as they opened, to see if he could reserve the same table they’d sat at last time.

“We don’t usually reserve specific tables,” the person on the other line had said.

But by the time Buck had finished explaining why, exactly, it was so important for them to sit at this table on this day at this time—sparing no agonizing detail about just how much of an idiot he’d made of himself, and how the first time Tommy kissed him it made Buck understand himself for the first time in his life, so please he really needs to do this for him—the person said they’d see what they could do; their words coming through the speaker with an audible smile.

Buck looks at himself in the mirror while he waits for Tommy to pick him up. He looks so different from the person who stared back at him all those months ago, in a moment just like this, waiting for Tommy to pick him up for their first date. His hair had been shorter, his sideburns longer, his clothes tighter.

He’d been nervous. He’d been so fucking nervous. He’d looked in the mirror and seen someone about to go on a date with a man. He’d seen someone who was struggling with the idea that he liked men, period, and apparently always had. He’d seen someone about to try something he didn’t think should feel as new as it did, and terrified of what it meant. Of how long he hadn’t known he’d wanted it. Of what it meant about himself if he wasn’t comfortable with wanting it. He’d looked in the mirror and seen someone who’d always been an outspoken ally, who was now terrified of someone else looking at him and seeing that he liked men.

But that was April. Now, it’s October. The winds have shifted and the air is cooler and Buck is bisexual. He knows who he is now. He’s not scared of what loving Tommy means anymore.

He takes a steadying breath and checks himself over one more time in the mirror. He’s cleanshaven almost to the top of his ear—just to the spot where Tommy rests his thumb and strokes back and forth when he cups Buck’s cheek while they kiss—and his curls are laying perfectly tonight. There’s a boyishness that’s come back to him with this haircut; a physical lightness that accompanies the joy that Tommy brings him. He looks happy. He looks good.

More than anything, he knows Tommy will think he looks good. Tommy likes his curls, likes him cleanshaven. He likes to pinch his smooth cheeks and pull his hair deliciously and tell him he loves him. Tommy thinks he’s adorable. Miceli’s is the first place he told him as much, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal. It still makes Buck’s heart flutter every time Tommy says it.

It’s kind of embarrassing, Buck thinks, how much better he feels about himself now that he’s with Tommy. It’s like a weight has been lifted off his chest. Part of it is understanding that he’s bi, sure. That’d been an itch he’d been scratching at until he bled for years without figuring out it was there. He’d simply registered it as a baseline discomfort with how he fit into the world. The source of that, once illuminated, felt so obvious and undeniable. The discomfort melted away once he understood the full truth of himself. Once Tommy showed him.

But it’s more than that. It’s not that Tommy is a man: it’s that he’s Tommy. It’s the way Tommy makes Buck feel. His whole life, Buck has felt like he was hard to love. He was too much. He wasn’t enough. He was wrong. He was a failure.

A lot of that was his parents. A lot of it was not understanding why Maddie wouldn’t run away with him. A lot of it was not knowing who he was or what he wanted—and so not knowing how to ask to be loved correctly. It was clinging onto Abby past the relationship’s obvious expiration date. It was Ali leaving him mid-recovery because dating a firefighter was too much. It was trying to start something real with Taylor when they were so much better off as friends-with-occasional-benefits. It was being so certain that Natalia saw him for who he was, and realizing she only saw a three-minute-seventeen-second moment of him. No one wanted to keep him long-term, or if they did they wanted a specific version of him that he couldn’t be.

But Tommy came into his life. He saw Buck at some of his worst moments almost right away, and he still wanted to get to know Buck better. He saw Buck injure Eddie in a fit of jealous rage, and rather than leaving the two of them to deal with whatever that was among themselves, Tommy kissed him. Tommy asked him out. Tommy took him to Miceli’s and opened up about his past. He tried to calm Buck’s nerves. He said it wasn’t Buck’s fault if Buck wasn’t ready for what Tommy wanted from him. He gave Buck a second chance. He saw Buck in full clipboard glory and didn’t bat an eye. He showed up to a hospital wedding in dirty turnouts, exhausted, just because Buck asked him to. He apologized for being late.

He made sure Buck knew he wasn’t too much. He made sure Buck knew he was enough. He looked at every one of Buck’s flaws and faults and told Buck in no uncertain terms that he loved him—not loved him anyway, not loved him in spite of those things, just loved him. Like it was that easy.

And Buck has blossomed with Tommy’s love and attention. It feels dumb to say that about himself, but he has to admit it’s true. Buck feels calmer, more sure of himself than he ever has—not in that cocky 1.0 way, but in a steady, relaxed, stable way. Buck knows who he is now. He doesn’t have anything to prove anymore. He feels settled. At ease.

And so, so grateful for Tommy.

Tommy knocks on the door to the loft before letting himself in. It’s a habit that Buck can’t break him of. He insists it’s polite, so that Buck gets some warning before suddenly there’s someone else in his apartment. Buck thinks that’s sweet, has told him a thousand times that he doesn’t mind when Eddie just appears so why would this be different, but Tommy still does it. It’s gentlemanly. Buck hopes after tonight Tommy will understand just how much Buck wants Tommy to just be in his space.

Buck emerges from the downstairs bathroom just as Tommy is closing the front door.

“Hey,” Tommy says in that sing-song way of his. If Buck were to spell it out, it would have three Ys at least. And a few music notes—just for accuracy.

“Hey,” Buck says back, breathless. “You look… wow.”

Tommy is wearing the same shirt he wore on their first date. The black button-up is a favorite of Buck’s, and Tommy knows it. It makes him look big and broad and soft at the same time. It makes Buck want to snuggle into his chest. It makes Buck want to cancel their reservations.

Other than the shirt, Tommy looks different now than he looked six months ago, too. He’s stopped using quite so much product in his hair—inspired by Buck to also let his curls have a fighting chance—and he just looks… softer. He looks more like he did when Buck asked him to be his date to Maddie’s wedding, or when he came over for dinner after Bobby woke up from his coma. He’s not sharp angles and a harsh haircut. He looks relaxed in the same way that Buck feels. He looks confident in himself not as someone who can get the guy—not as someone impressive—but as someone who has the guy he wants, and who trusts that the guy is happy with him just the way he is.

Buck is happy. He’s very happy.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself,” Tommy says, fitting his hands on the tops of Buck’s hips and rubbing his thumbs back and forth. He smiles as he leans in close. “You got a hot date tonight or something?”

Even six months in, Buck still has such a huge crush on Tommy that he goes a little stupid sometimes. He blushes like this is the first time Tommy has played with him like this.

“Yeah,” Buck says. He wraps his arms around Tommy and squeezes once, just to feel him.“The hottest.” It’s not his best line but it works.

Tommy makes a noise of intrigue and scrunches his nose. “Anyone I know?”

“Probably not. He’s just some guy my brother-in-law knew back in the day.”

Tommy laughs and finally closes the distance between their lips. He kisses Buck soundly, sweetly; letting his love flow from his body into Buck’s. Or at least that’s how it feels.

“You ready to go?” Tommy asks when he pulls back, a sparkle in his eye.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

The drive over is peaceful. There’s shockingly little traffic for a Friday night in a touristy part of town, and Tommy holds his hand over the center console the whole time. That’s not unusual: Tommy always does that. What’s unusual is getting a parking spot so quickly on a block so close to the Chinese Theater—it’s why they’d Ubered last time.

Buck won’t jinx it by saying it feels like a sign. So he doesn’t say it.

Miceli’s held their table. Buck won’t say that feels like a sign either.

They order the same veggie pizza and salad as last time, but instead of the same pitcher of light beer, they order wine. Unlike on their first date, Tommy isn’t afraid to come off as a beer snob anymore. Buck already knows he is.

“Can I be honest, Evan?” Tommy says when Buck suggests a full recreation of their first meal; beer pitchers and all. “The worst part of that date wasn’t you no-homoing me in front of Eddie. It was that beer.”

Their conversation over dinner is more normal than Buck expected for an anniversary. It’s nice, relaxing. It feels natural. Tommy tells him about the high rise rescue he did today—run of the mill stuff, really, he insists it’s not that cool—and Buck tells him about the history of winemaking in Sicily, and how the volcanic soil adds a different flavor to the grapes that grow in it, and Mt Etna smokes all the time but people still live near it, and millions of people also still live in the shadow of Mt Vesuvius, and how pizza was first created in Naples, and did you know that margherita pizza isn’t really called that because Queen Margherita liked it even though that’s what people say and that actually the story was made up like fifty years after she allegedly went to Naples and tried it, so it’s just a marketing ploy?

Tommy didn’t know that—any of that—but he looks so fond as Buck tells him that Buck finally works up the nerve to ask him the thing he brought Tommy here to ask.

“So,” Buck says, once they’ve had two slices each. “I wanted to talk to you about something, and I figured this would be the best place to do it.”

He wasn’t nervous before, but he’s nervous now. He thinks he knows what the answer will be, but he’s never done this for the right reasons before. He doesn’t want Tommy to think he’s moving too fast. They haven’t been dating long, but it’s been so transformative. Buck is sure he wants this.

Tommy looks at him with mild concern, so he must look as nervous as he feels. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes!” Buck says, eyes going wide. He reaches across the table to hold Tommy’s hand. “Yes, everything is- is great, sorry. That’s what I wanted to ask you about. These last six months have been amazing. You’ve been amazing. Sometimes I still can’t believe- like I wake up next to you in the morning and I can’t believe it’s real. I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to- to- for you to want me in your space like that. So I’ve been thinking, um, well, I-I’ve been wondering. What- what do you think about- I mean, I know it’s too soon, maybe, but it feels right and I- I’ve never really done this right in the past, and this is a-actually the longest I’ve taken to do this with someone, so maybe that’s a good sign? You don’t think it’s too soon, do you? It’s just that my lease is up soon and I- I have to make a decision and I just thought, well, it might be nice to officially- but if you’re worried about the- the commute for me, since you’re pretty far from the 118, I- I thought about that, and it’s not like I don’t do that a few times a week now anyway. I think it’s worth it.”

Tommy just looks at Buck with a small, patient, excited smile. “What are you asking me, Evan?” Tommy looks like he already knows, but he won’t do the work for Buck. He’s gonna make him ask.

“Right, uh, I guess I didn’t… W-what would you say- um, I mean, would you want to- can I- because obviously it would be me who would- fuck, sorry, let me just…”

This isn’t even The Big Question and Buck can’t get it out. There’s too much going on in his head, too much backstory and too many possible arguments against it that he’s trying to head off because he wants this so badly.

“Do I make you nervous or is it this place?” Tommy laughs. It’s not a mean laugh, he’s not laughing at Buck. He seems charmed by the spluttering. Adorable. “I haven’t seen you like this in months. It’s okay, baby. Ask me.”

Buck takes a breath. “Let me start over-“

“Evan.”

The music is back in Tommy’s voice. The way he says Buck’s given name makes it sound like a term of endearment; how he holds out the final syllable and doesn’t let it go until he has to. Most people go down on that last N sound, like a frown. Tommy goes up, like it makes him smile just to have the sounds in his mouth.

He’s looking at Buck like Buck is something worth looking at. He’s holding Buck’s hand like Buck is something worth holding onto. And he’s smiling at Buck like Buck is something that brings him joy.

It makes Buck smile in return. It gives him confidence. Tommy makes him nervous, but he also settles all the noise that buzzes around in Buck’s head. He helps Buck see the clear path forward, just by being there. Just by being steady.

“Tommy,” Buck starts. He squeezes Tommy’s hand in his, on top of the table for everyone to see. “Do you want to move in together?”

“Of course I do, sweetheart.” Tommy smiles so wide his eyes crinkle and, god, those eye crinkles are just barely below his cleft on the list of things Buck loves about Tommy’s face.

“Yeah?” Buck is beaming.

“Honestly, you beat me to the punch. I was gonna ask you to move in over dessert,” Tommy says. He squeezes Buck’s hand. “I love you. I’ve never been happier than I am when I’m with you. Of course I want to live with you.”

Tommy was going to ask Buck to move in. Tommy wants Buck to live with him. Tommy wants Buck. Tommy wants to keep him.

Buck is standing up and bumping the table before he realizes what he’s doing. Their wine spills, the last of their pizza falls from its elevated rack onto the table next to them, and Buck couldn’t care less about any of it. He’s kissing Tommy right there, both hands on Tommy’s handsome face, in the same restaurant where he pretended they weren’t on a date, at the same table where he said some of the most embarrassing things he’s ever said, and he’s never in his life been more thrilled to return to a place he made a fool of himself in.

“People are looking at us, Evan,” Tommy says, pulling back as far as Buck will let him.

“I don’t care. I love you.” Buck kisses him again.

But he’s still a person with a sense of decency, so once the rush of Tommy wants me Tommy loves me Tommy wants to keep me close wears off, Buck pulls back from Tommy’s mouth and apologizes to the table next to them—the unintended casualties of their toppled dinner. Still worth it.

They clean up as much of the mess as they can. Neither of them stop smiling.

A piece of tiramisu comes to their table not long after, with the word Congratulations! and a picture of two rings drawn on the plate in chocolate sauce.

“Oh,” Tommy says. “They must have thought we got engaged.”

“Yeah,” Buck laughs. “I guess most people would only have that kind of reaction to something that big.”

“Then they don’t know you very well,” Tommy smiles.

You do, though, Buck thinks. You know me better than I know myself. You saw me for who I am—not who I thought I was—and you brought that to the surface so gently, so easily. You let me finally get to know myself. After searching so hard and so desperately by myself all these years, all you had to do was kiss me, and I knew myself. I’ve never looked in the mirror and truly seen myself there, but now I do. Because of you.

Filled to the brim with love and joy and excitement for the next chapter of his life, Buck smiles back.

“Well,” he says, gesturing at the tiramisu. “Mistaken free dessert?”

And Tommy, in his patented cool, confident way, says, “Premature free dessert,” and takes a bite.

Six months later, when Tommy asks if he wants to go to Miceli’s, Buck pretends not to know what Tommy is going to ask him. He just smiles and says yes.

{now on ao3}

#me? infodumping random facts that I find interesting through buck and making you read about my interests?#it’s more likely than you’d think!#I’m so fucking excited for this season I can’t put it into words #i love them i love them i love them #bucktommy #911 abc #season 8 speculation #911 season 8 spec #mine

450 notes · View notes

bangytell · 9 months

Text

jk | m

Summary: Your brother's best friend has been your ultimate crush since forever, and soon you'll find out that he has been too.

Genre: friends to lovers, smut

Rated: mature

Pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: non idol au! pet names (i looove using pet names), protected sex, kinda sex in public, boobs worshiping, mentions of jealousy and a very much lovestruck Jungkook.

a/n: I just miss him so much already, in that haircut in those lives, just bring that Jungkook back to me, any ways, come to be delusional with me. I couldn't bring my mind into a title, doesn't alway have to. Also I don't have a song in mind, don't hate me please i put much effort into this.

You’re constantly aroused by the thought of your friend pinning your body, but you can’t tell a soul about your strongest desires.

He’s your gym buddy, the shoulder you have cried on and a good friend, and it has to keep that way since he, unfortunately for you, has a girlfriend.

He’s teaching you the exercises you could do while he maintains the workout he’s currently doing, and with a hand in your lower back you feel hot in your stomach.

He’s talking to you while you imagine having him, in every possible way.

“Understood [name]?” you nod “Do it one time for me”

Oh i’ll do it for you many times

You do the movement as told, he grins and puts his thumb up for you, at least he used to give you praises, but you’ll take what you can get.

“I’ll be with your brother, finish the series for me and then get to cardio and you’re done” you smile and nod, getting your headphones up your head again.

You finish with ease as you see your brother and his best friend exercise at the same peace and look with detail as Jungkook body flexes and stretches each movement.

As you’re running and thinking about tomorrow's routine, you feel a hand on your shoulder, is your brother, Jimin. You pull your headphones, he speaks.

“We’re going to our dorm, are you good on your own?” Was he really asking that?

“You brought me here, what do you mean if 'm good on my own?” he chuckles

“Jungkook’s girl jus’ told us to go to this party” that girl…

“If you dump me here i’ll snitch” he gasps

“You wouldn’t” you furrow your eyebrows

“Try me” he grins and sees Jungkook approaching

“Oh yeah, tell Jungkook what you jus’ told me” that filthy rat of a brother you had

You slow the peace to the machine, as he comes closer

“[name] Jimin already told you?” you look confused and he grins “Let me guess, you told him you’ll snitch on him”

“You know her so well dude” Jimin chuckles and now you look angry, really angry

“You’re dumping me here to go after that…” you shush you words, in respect for Jungkook

“C’mon [name] is a holiday party, maybe your brother can finally get a girl” you scoff

“As if, please don’t do this to me… again” your temple looks like a lost puppy and it touches Jungkook soul

“You’re right, c’mon i’ll take you home” you smile

“I knew you were better than Jimin” your time was over at the machine, you went after your backpack and followed Jungkook to his car

“See you at the party, loser” Jimin drives off as you sit on Jungkook’s car

“Thank you for the drive” he sighs and smiles “I don’ mean to bother”

“Don’t worry, I jus’ hope Miko won’t get mad at me”

Oh, right.

“She won’t just use that beautiful bunny smile of yours and she’ll forget all about it” he smiles at you as the dim light from the road lights your sight.

When you arrive at your entrance, he seems distant as if an idea has filled his thoughts.

“Kook?” he smiles “All good?” he nods but doesn’t seem like it

“You can talk to me” he nods again, and opens his mouth as if the words were stuck at his throat

“Good night gorgeous, see you tomorrow” that’s all he manages himself to say, you reply with a good night and leave his car, he drives off and your heart pains in its cage.

After falling asleep with ease, your phone rings at your night stand, with a blurry vision you answer.

“Yes?” someone’s sobbing on the other line and you sit up straight, your vision returns and you notice that Jungkook’s name pops up “Kookie, what’s wrong?” he sobs a little

“[name] can you come for me?” drive at night? it surely didn’t seem like the better idea at the moment “please, i’m at my dorm but…”

“Okay, i’ll be there, give me twenty minutes” he hums in agreement, you hung up

Put your pajamas back on and leave a note at the fridge for your parents.

Took the car keys and drove as fast as you could. Once outside you call him.

“ ‘m here” he hangs up and you see him, the beanie and mask hide his puffy eyes.

Inside the car you greet him “What’s wrong sweety?” he denies and pulls your arm for a hug, he sobs and pulls you closer.

“Sorry for calling so late” you caress his back and feel him relax at your touch

“No worries” he scoffs and pulls away to look in your eyes “What happened?”

He denies and you begin to drive back home, the drive was full of Jungkook soft sobs and muffled music from your radio.

Once there you get down, and take the note from the fridge and place another.

Jungkook is at Jimin’s room, please don’t peek

He chuckles “You know how they are” he nods as you guide him through the halls

Once at Jimin's door he takes his mask off.

“Can you stay while I fall asleep” you nod, he seems delicate, as if by a simple touch would break him.

“No problem” you both enter the room, he takes his shoes and the beanie off, you leave your sneakers on the floor and lie beside him.

“She cheated on me” he settles in your arms after being able to tell you about his state you stroke his hair and his back as he cries on your shoulder and shivers

“ ‘m sorry Kookie” he denies and sobs

“Is not your fault or anything” you nod “ ‘m a fool, a stupid and dumb” you keep caressing his back and answer to him

“Why should you be? She’s the fool, the dumb and the stupid for playin’ with such an amazing catch” he chuckles

“ ‘m no catch” you gasp

“What? You’re good at everything you do, your amazing personality and that dazzling look you have? Anyone is the luckiest to have you as a couple” he chuckles and pulls away to look at you

“You’re sayin’ that as a friend” you deny

“ ‘m sayin it as a woman” he nods and rests his head at your chest again

“Thank you for being here” you stroke his hair and lean to give a soft peck at his temple

“Anythin’ for you, jus’ don’t tell Jimin I was here with you” he giggles and you feel as he drifts off to sleep.

The next morning Jungkook wakes up to the muffled voices coming from outside and the smell of pancakes. There was a little note at the side table where his phone rested.

There’s Jimin's old clothes in the closet, take a shower and come to have breakfast as soon as you can!

Your pretty handwriting made him smile, he took a very needed shower, and after using a shirt that fitted and some shorts he opened the door.

Only you and your mom remained at the dining room, the sight of your stuffed cheeks laughing at something and to Jungkook your eyes had a starlight

“Kook!” your mom stood and hugged him, his eyes were still puffy but he seemed a lot better. “Haven't seen you in a while, fancy seeing you here, without my son” he blushes and his ears become to gain that same crimson color “But, no worries you're welcome anytime” you sighed in relief and your mother helped Jungkook sit while she puts some pancakes and syrup.

“I have to run, but please Kook, make yourself at home”

You admired him as he filled his mouth with food. Jimin's shirt on him was a bit small but stood out his muscular body, his damp hair falled to his temple and got a bit in the way of his eyes, he was engrossed in his tasks not paying attention to your attentive gaze.

“Don't worn me out” he speaks, gazing at you as you chuckle and flustered at his words

“I wasn't…” you scoff and drink your glass of juice he smiles and continues to eat.

You leave to get ready for the class you have in a few minutes, and as you walk down the stairs you hear Jungkook screaming.

“Now it's my fault? You don't care where I am” he sounds… angry

“So what if she's here? That's the dumbest excuse” could he mean… you?

You were the only one left at the house so…

“I shouldn’t have answered your call Miko, have a nice day” he remains silent and you enter the dining room.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he nods, hiding his face with his hands “Jimin texted me, asking for you” he gaze you

“What did you told him?” he sounds… exhausted

“That you're okay” he nods

“He knows ‘m here” you nod and he sighs

“I didn't tell him I was coming, or that I called you. Or anything that happened actually” he sighs

“I figured, so i jus’ told him that I knew you were okay”

“Thank you, I'll let him know about what happened, can you give me a ride to the dorm?” you nod and he gets up leaving through the halls

You clean the kitchen and soon he appears with his old outfit.

“ ‘m ready” you nod and grab your keys on the way out.

The ride to his dorm is silent, no radio this time and it feels like his feelings and thoughts are eating him alive.

“Come by home any day you want, okay?” he nods as he opens the door

“Sure, gorgeous” you rest your forehead at your steering wheel as he walks away from you.

Being just the friend was kinda exhausting when it came to seeing him hurt.

And what did that call he had before meant?

By no surprise you ended up at the gym by yourself, your brother and his best friend didn't have trouble telling if they were coming, after your body got tired, you rushed home.

After a shower, you got a call from your friend, Ava.

“Hey pookie how's your life these days?” you snort

“Remember Jungkook?” she hums

“How can I forget, he's all you mention” you scoff and she giggles

“His now ex girlfriend cheated on him” she gasps

“No waaay” you sigh

“Way, and he called, sobbing asking me if I could drive him to my house, Jimin was still at the party I presume” your friend gasps

“Woah, woah, he wanted to be with you?” you blush

“ ‘m his friend, ‘m sure he jus’ wanted a home” she giggles at your words

“ y're so oblivious” you snort

“He sleeped at Jimin's room, and I stayed until he falled asleep since he pleaded me” she gasps in surprise

“He whaaat?” you snort

You hear your front door, and more than one voice as they make their way to the living room. Since they're far away you can't make heads or tails on who's outside

“Sorry, were you saying something? she snorts

“Jus’ tell Jungkook how you feel” you shake your head in deny

“I can't to that now Ava, he jus’ been cheated” she chuckles

“Is always bad timing with you, you’re a woman now, aren't ya’? you huff

Suddenly short knocks on your door startled you.

“Yes?” Ava is still on the phone when Jungkook answer with a soft “It's me”

“Gotta go Ava, call you later” with no time to answer you hung up and left your phone in the bed, standing up to open your door.

He looks much better than tonight, he doesn’t have puffy eyes and his all black outfit makes your heart skip a beat.

“Sorry I haven't called or anything” you shake your head in denial and he sighs “I kinda been sleeping all day” you nod, and he finds your silence odd “Can we talk?” you nod and close the door as he enters your room.

You both sit in bed, he's eyeing your room when his gaze meets yours and stays there.

“Are you mad at me?” you shake your head in deny once again, and you don't know what makes you being flustered “Talk to me [name]”

“Is there something you need to hear from me?” he sighs and holds your hand, caresses with his thumb and your cheeks blush

“I jus’ don't want you to provide me the silent treatment” he seems delicate with his words, and with the way he holds and strokes your hand

“Why did you call me?” he knew that was the question that remained your thoughts, he sighed and tried to give you the answer you need

“ I didn't know where else to go, and I felt… alone” you huff

“So… I can only get your call when you're alone?” he shakes his head in deny and your eyes become watery

Because to you, the way he's been acting makes your heart ache in disbelief, seeing he only needs and wants your presence when it threatens to be by himself.

You know Jungkook since you were both little, and sure he's two years older, but that never stopped your hopeless heart. Every time he got hurt you would caress him, provide words of encouragement and your unilateral love was becoming hurtful by the year. Surely you had couples before, and intimacy but your heart and mind would always think of him, on the way he makes you feel and how you know him and the way he knows and remembers so much of you. Being with anyone else wouldn't fulfill you.

“Is not like that gorgeous, you're my friend and I…-” you pull your hand and look at him with hurt eyes

“Maybe 'm tired of being jus’ your friend” he looks confused as you stand “Don’t tell me you haven't noticed my feelings” he looks confused as you step closer and pull him to put your lips into his.

He answers your kiss and opens his mouth a little more to deepen the kiss. You pull away and give him a hopeful gaze.

“ ‘m sorry” you know you shouldn't have kissed him, and he's just sitting looking at your flustered body, trembling and moving with anxiety.

He holds you by the hand and pulls you to his body to hug you by the waist, he's sitting at the edge of your bed and you're stroking his hair as his arms hug you closer.

You hear knocks on your door, and your mom's voice brings you back from reality. You let go from his embrace and open the door a little just to see your mother.

“Dinner is ready, and bring Jungkook with you” you nod and close the door.

“Let's go downstairs before she returns and kick my door down” he chuckles and stands up, before you open the door again he holds you by the cheek and gives you a soft peck.

Your emotions and thoughts are a literal storm inside of you, you kissed him and he responded to the kiss, not only that but he gave you a kiss back.

Are you dreaming?

Dinner goes smoothly, Jimin is telling a story and as you try to pay attention you notice from the corner of your eye that Jungkook’s gaze pierces you.

After dinner you hear Jimin saying that it is a great idea to sleepover in his room, your mom says it's fine.

You stay in the living room with the television on, watching Pride and Prejudice. It was that dance scene and as they danced your attention drifted off to the body sitting next to you.

“Do you like this movie?” you ask, as he looks at the screen, he chuckles

“I've seen it, when you were like fifteen remember?” you nod, the memory returning to you, of your younger self when Jimin had sneaked out for a party and didn't tell Jungkook about it, so he unconsciously made Jimin grounded. That night you were watching the same movie.

“You remember” he smiles and nods

You finish the movie and he turns at you.

“Why is that is called Pride and Prejudice” you giggle but answer to his question anyway

“They both were very proud and had prejudice over each other's action” he opens his mouth in a “o” as your brother walks to the living room.

“Dude, you can't sleep again?” he nods and you're prying as to why he seems to not be able to sleep when he has slept with you before “What are you looking [name]?”

“We watched Pride and Prejudice” he puts a boring expression

“You and your boring movies, Jungkook just sit here with you because he had nothing else to do” he arch an eyebrow and looks in your brothers way

“It was really entertaining actually, you should try and watch a movie with your sister sometime” Jimin huffs and you mouth a thank you to Jungkook

Surely Jimin preferred to do anything else than to share more than three words with you which mostly included “Dinner's ready” “Mom's calling you” “Can I borrow 20 bucks” that day you were surprised.

Jimin went back to his room and as you look for something different, Jungkook’s caught your eye.

He's scrolling to his social media, looking as handsome as he can be, and you gulp at the exquisite sight of him.

“ ‘m sleepy now Koo” he nods

“Go to bed gorgeous” you smile and walk to your room after taking a last glimpse at his features.

After cuddling inside your quilt and blankets you hear your phone buzz.

[So you have feelings for me huh?] –Koo

[Ha ha if you're acting like this forget about my confession] —[name]

[I could never forget about you, or when you kissed me, is actually all there is left in my mind] —Koo

[You’re talking gibberish :D] –[name]

[You drive me insane] —Koo

You smile at your phone and turn flustered to his words.

[I don't think you're emotionally available at the moment] —[name]

He reads the text and doesn't answer

You weren't telling lies, he’s been recently cheated on. He can't be thinking about anything else.

Suddenly, two soft knocks and your name being whispered by Jungkook. You open, with an open mouth, to throw a tantrum, but all is silenced when Jungkook's wet and saccharine lips are onto yours, hungry for your kisses.

You pull apart in confusion, he surely gets your blood boiling whether is the hot in your stomach wishing he'll fuck you dumb, or the way he makes you angry.

“Jungkook what?...” he reaches to you once more but you place your hand on his chest “Please, tell me what has gotten into you?”

He looks at you like a stray puppy, and finds a seat on your bed. He sighs deeply.

“I jus’ wanna kiss you” and with a sigh, a pout on his lips and his hands covering his face

“Jungkook, your emotions are hurt and blinded by the betrayal, I don’ wanna take advantage of that” he shakes his head in denial

“You don’t understand [name], you don’t” you kneel in front of his body and hold his hands on yours

“Help me understand then” he sighs, once more

“I didn’t realize my feelings for you until it was late, until you were dating that hideous dude” you chuckle “Then Miko got me mesmerized, or I thought she had” his gaze is on yours as he strokes your face “I fooled myself by thinking that I could… stop myself from thinking, caring and being hopelessly and deeply devoted to you” your breath stucks on your throat “Miko did me a favor by cheating on me, you were there for me… you” you place a finger on his lips

“I understand, but I can’t be your second best, I can’t feel like a side plate” he nods and pulls you for a hug, with a few tears on your face he wipes them with his fingers and gives you a soft peck.

After that, both of you spend more and more time together, he’ll bluntly flirt with you, making you feel giddy and flustered, even in front of your brother and he smiled with a “I knew you too would eventually step out of obliviousness” you both giggle and then he said “Jus’ don’t make out in front of me”

It was Jimin’s birthday, he had a party at your house, with a few of your girlfriends from school, and almost every classmate from both jimin's year and yours was there. Jimin will always go big.

You had your lilac dress, pouring yourself some more liqueur while the crowd and the music rumbled inside the house. Suddenly you feel a cold finger touching your elbow and you turn to find your old friend, Taehyung (who's also a friend of your brother) greeting you with his boxy smile, you give him a long hug and that's when Jungkook's attention falls into you once more.

He wasn't one to be able to call you his but the boiling blood inside him couldn't stop his mind, he was so jealous of how that boy was talking so close to you, and the way his hands went to your waist when you hugged him, he was starting to lose his temple, as his friends tried to call his name out to make him fall out of that slumber he walked your way without being fully aware of his actions, he placed a hand by your lower waist and greeted his way into your conversation.

You can't believe Jungkook is jealous of you as he pulls you closer to his warmth, Taehyung chuckles and shakes his hand in a goodbye as he winks at you and gets lost within the crowd.

“Jeon Jungkook, don’t tell me you got jealous” you chuckle and his hands turn you so you'll face him

Soon enough your hands are around his neck as he pulls you desperately into his kiss, you both giggle and his hand goes to one of your ass cheeks and lifts you a little your stomach begins to flutter and to feel warm, he's kissing you like in desperation, as if you're gonna disappear through his hands.

You can't remember how or when in between kisses but your body is on top of Jungkook's grinding onto his jeans, and he's losing his mind eyeing your drees lifting way past your knee, the way your breasts go up and down with every movement makes you a great sight.

“You look like a goddess right now” he holds you by your ass as you continue to grind on him, and his bulge just feels as you grind and slide in between your pussy so effortlessly. “You can only look like this for me” you nod and he grins and holds you closer to kiss you. “Use your words, doll”

“I only do this for you Jungkook” he grins and looks your way as he tries to pull your dress out of the way

“Good girl” he smiles as he discards your dress and soon enough your bra, he cups your breasts and puts one into his mouth as he caresses them with his tongue, you begin to let out saccharine moans and try to put a hand over your mouth, he shakes his head in deny. “Don't worry my love, the music is too high for anyone to notice” your hands go to his abdomen and you love the way it feels within your fingers, you help him out of his t-shirt and leave a trial of kisses until you're off of him and begin to unbuckle his belt, soon enough he pulls his pants off and his cock bounces back once its released from his boxer, your hand cups it and without warning you put it into your mouth, his head loll back as you busy in task, he puts a hand on your head and as he hears the sound you make while making his cock full of drool and feeling good he still feels like this ain't enough.

“Come on love, let me fuck you” those words make you stop, he kisses you and gets up to take off the rest of his clothes, he helps you get into bed and you're waiting in all fours as he takes a condom out of his wallet. He admires your body and strokes your ass cheek as the condom slips into his warm and aching cock.

He begins to slide into you, feeling the way your pussy clench and squeeze his cock.

“Ngh… you're so tight” he pulls away and slides back in just a little to have you squirming and pleading for more “You're s-... so desperate to take me in huh?” you moan, almost scream as he thrust balls deep into you.

His thrust are hitting just the right spot, making you moan his name like a prayer, his eyes full of lust eye your sweating body and grabs you by your arm to pull your back to his chest, your pleading for him not to stop, and he feels feral by the way your pleading and moaning, he loves that he's the only able to do this with you, and wants to do it every single day.

As he bullies into you his hands go to your breasts, then to your clitoris and begin to rub gently as your body shivers in pleasure

“This is how i wanna make you feel [name], I want to fuck you dumb, make you forget your name and only remember mine” he's still holding you closer to him, feeling even more of his cock inside you and he gaze your body. “C'mon [name] be my girl huh?” you nod and keep moaning, no single thought can connect to your head “Use your words love” his hand rubbing your clitoris and the other holding you in place just make you a dumb mess, you can't make it in your head to say a word.

“You'll answer me eventually” he chuckles as he feels his orgasm form and so do you, his name leave your mouth and just a few more thrust make you orgasm, your body trembles and shivers as he thrust his orgasm into you and the condom, he moans your name and you're in the same position as both of your chests go up and down, he helps you out of his cock and you feel it like a loss.

He stands up as you get comfortable in bed, he tosses the condom to your trash can, and comes to cuddle you into bed.

“Are you okay?” you giggle and nod

“Yes Koo, I am excellent” he chuckles “You really got jealous?” you lock gaze with him

“Yes…” you chuckle and hug him inside your blankets his body feels warm and he loves your breasts close to him

“But only because i can't say you're my girl” oh, you haven't answered

“I don't think between sex was the better moment to ask” he chuckles and sighs as he speaks again

“Would you let me be the guy you date? I'd be honored” you smile and pulls him into a soft peck

“Yes Koo, I'll be extra happy to be your girl”

Two knocks on the door startled you, the music from up your room isn't all loud and you ask “Who is it?”

“You better bring both your asses downstairs and sing me happy birthday or I'll kill you Jeon” you laugh and say that you're on your way

“I don't believe he'd actually kill you” he pulls his pants to its place and smile at you

“Wait until he hears about what just happened” you gasp

“Don't you dare” you both laugh and go downstairs holding hands as everyone sings happy birthday to your brother.

after>>

masterlist

#bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts maknae line #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x y/n #bts jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook fanfic

2K notes · View notes

vampcubus · 1 year

Text

𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒

a/n: overanalyzing kny characters’ love languages, both expressing their love and how they prefer to be loved in return.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : tanjiro, inosuke, kyojuro, and tengen.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : sfw, keep in mind these are all my opinion.

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 & 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— Tanjiro screams acts of service, and you can see it in the way he cares for everyone. Nezuko especially. So it should come as no surprise that his natural way of expressing his love for you is to do things for you. It ranges from small things, like instinctively covering table/furniture edges when you bend down to pick something up so you don’t hurt yourself on them, to quite literally using his body to shield your own from harm in battle.

— Winding down for bed? Let him help you with your skincare routine, applying moisturizing oils to your face with gentle swipes of his fingers over your cheeks. Do you wear your hair in a specific style? Please teach him how so he can do it for you! If he finds you cooking or cleaning up around the house, he always asks if there is anything he could help you with, and hesitates when you insist that there wasn’t.

“Okay, darling if you say so… but come find me if you change your mind?” he sighs, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek before scurrying off to let you carry on with what you were doing.

— Tanjiro does all sorts of things with you in mind without even thinking about it. Like leaving notes with sweet things and reminders around the house when he’s away for when you wake up. Or offering to cook when you’re too exhausted to, being mindful of the things you prefer to eat, so you enjoy the things he makes ❤︎

— Another crucial piece of his love language is words of affirmation. Tanjiro is never too shy to give praise, especially to his partner, whom he holds in the highest esteem. If you are ever feeling doubtful of your capabilities, he will be sure to put those insecurities to rest with endless reassurance and kind words.

— If you are a slayer like him, he’ll be all but singing your praises after every successful dispatch, complimenting your form, courage, and gracefulness with shining eyes. He can always find a compliment for you without having to think very long or hard about it.

— And though it has little to do with why he’s in love with you, he can’t help but tell you just how beautiful he finds you to be. You truly take his breath away, even when you aren’t dressed up in the slightest. He thinks there’s beauty in your comfortability around him. So even when you just rolled out of bed with your hair a mess and makeup from the previous day smeared across your face, he thinks you’re the loveliest creature to grace the earth.

— Tanjiro always notices when you change things about your appearance, and is sure to comment on every change with his approval.

— New haircut? He’s asking to feel it and telling you how nice it looks on you. Wearing a new outfit? He'll note that it suits you perfectly and hopes you’ll wear it more often. This is especially true when it comes to your scent. Seeing as his sense of smell is so potent, he easily becomes attached to your unique scent. He doesn’t care much for strong perfumes, but if you use a different soap or conditioner, he will notice.

“You smell so good today, my love,” he sighs into the crook of your neck and shoulder as he embraces you from behind, reddish-black hairs tickling you.

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

— It has to be physical touch. Although he is open to all sorts of ways his partner would express their love for him, their physical affection is by far his favorite way to receive it. He adores your every gentle touch and loving gesture, leaning into every caress, sighing into every kiss, and his eyes fluttering shut at every embrace.

— Your touch grounds and comforts him, bringing him back down to earth when his responsibilities and anxieties pull him into his head. You can tell when those worries are festering, weighing heavily on the man that grew up much too quickly and saw so many horrors so young. Survivor's guilt is brutal, and he rarely has the time to spare to confront how that trauma has affected him psychologically. But that’s where you come in, salving and soothing.

— Your arms have become his sanctuary, holding him upright when he doesn’t have the strength to stand any longer. Your heartbeat against his ear calms him down like nothing else, so he melts when you guide his head to rest atop your heart, softly petting his wine-colored hair and reminding him that you were real- that you weren’t going anywhere.

— Tanjiro adores your hands. He loves the way they feel in his own, tugging him along when you’re out and about together so you don’t lose track of one another. He loves how easily he folds when you rub out all the aches and pains in his body after a long assignment, taking such good care of him.

— He loves the simple touches you think nothing about, like grabbing his waist as you brush past him, leaving him a flustered mess. Or the shapes you trace on his thigh while you’re seated side by side. You may do it mindlessly, but he’s hyper-aware of where your bodies meet, easily distracted by the slightest touches.

— Suffice it to say, he really likes it when you touch him.

𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 & 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

— A toughie, but I’d say he primarily expresses his affection for you through physical touch!

— Inosuke has never been a prude about getting up close and personal, the man does fight people for fun after all. Which ties in with one of his favorite ways to show affection: roughhousing! He gets immense enjoyment out of play fighting with you, whether that be out of boredom or he just wants an excuse to touch you without coming off soft.

— Always touching you mindlessly, like resting an elbow on your head/shoulder, tugging you along by the arm toward fun activities, or leaning over you to pick up something. Doesn’t even think about it when he crawls into your lap or drags you into his own, and just scratches at his head when others act scandalized by his public displays of affection.

— Isn’t above making out with you in front of others so you might have to reign him in, even if he doesn’t entirely understand what the big whoop is about sharing spit with you with an audience. In his mind, that just means others will know you’re his “mate” and to not bother competing, not that anyone could compete with “Mountain God, Inosuke!”

— He definitely does the loving “head bonk” thing that cats do. Oftentimes he doesn’t even bother taking his mask off to do that though, and the fur of his mask is a little scratchy :(((

— Inosuke very much enjoys sparring with you, no matter the gap of power between you. Doesn’t matter if he knows he’ll win or get his ass handed to him, he wants to share his passion with you. And if you’re as enthusiastic about fighting as he is? All the more reason to spend so much time testing one another’s limits and making one another stronger opponents in the process.

— Another part of Inosuke’s love language is gift-giving! oddly enough. He’s very much the “finders keepers” and “if you have it, i want it,” type, but that seems to not apply to you.

— Expect to receive all sorts of odd trinkets, rocks, and shiny things he either finds, steals, or acquires on his assignments. While these things might not seem particularly valuable or significant, they meant something to him. Enough to want to share it with you in hopes it would make you happy too.

— The best part is the way he puffs up with pride after you express your approval of his offering, boasting about how “of course you like it! I, the great Inosuke, went through great trouble to get it for you!” though inside, he’s a little bit nervous when presenting his gifts to you, on the slight chance that you don’t appreciate them.

— The more you praise him for his gifts the more frequent they become, though you might be perplexed by the things that turn up at your doorstep. They’re mostly harmless, aside from the occasional dead animal.

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 & 𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

— His first choice when it comes to receiving your love would be words of affirmation. After all, who wouldn’t like a bit of praise every now and then? But in Inosuke’s case, he thrives off of being reminded of just how amazing you find him to be.

— It’s not hard to find things about him to compliment, he’s a truly incredible slayer, and a fiercely loyal partner.

— Keep the flattering remarks coming! He’s eating them all up! And getting more and more attached to you the more you tell him the things he’s good at.

— He doesn’t much understand compliments on his appearance, nor does he value them as much as your flattery of his physical prowess, but they do have an effect on him.

— As for the quality time part, making an effort to spend time with him is a surefire way to get his heart pumping (though he might not realize that he’s in love with you, just that he likes being around you.)

— Inosuke’s clingy in every sense of the word, trailing close behind wherever you wander off to. He wants to go everywhere with you, so making plans with him in mind or just getting up and tugging him along with you is totally acceptable.

— Inosuke finally understands what Tanjiro and Zenitsu meant when they said that food tastes better when you eat with others. Because his meals just don’t satisfy him like they do when he shares them with you. Sometimes he’ll seek you out just to stuff his face beside you, grinning wolfishly when you scold him for eating too quickly, and making a face when you wipe food off his face (he secretly likes it)

— He wants to be a part of your routine, even if it consists of him just sitting there while you do your hair (do not trust him with it, he will make you look so busted istg 😭) or trying to sneak bites while you cook, only to get his hand smacked.

— Inosuke craves your company, even if you aren’t necessarily interacting. He just wants to have you there.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— Words of affirmation hands down. Kyojuro is a man of praise and isn’t too shy to lay it on thick with his lovely partner. He honestly can’t shut up about how beautiful, amazing, and talented he finds you to be.

— The other Hashira – and honestly anyone that’ll listen – are constantly updated on the daily Y/n scoop! He just has so much adoration for you welling up inside that it comes spilling out of his smiling lips at every opportunity.

— His compliments aren’t empty either. He’s an honest man, and only says what he believes to be true. And if you expect his flattery to stop at looks, you’d be sorely mistaken. He praises every little thing you do: swordplay, hobbies, crafts, simply existing.

— And if you were ever to make something special just for him? He’s swooning so hard, accepting your gift graciously and telling you just how much he loves it and what a good job you did crafting it! Doesn’t matter how much of an amateur you are, he is waxing poetic about your stick figure like it's the most beautiful artwork he’s ever laid eyes on and keeping it forever.

“My love, this is magnificent! I’ll cherish it and keep it close to me so that I might be reminded of you every time I see it!” Kyojuro announces with a bright smile so wide his cheeks start to hurt. You even swear you see his eyes get a little glossy at the gesture.

— Even when you aren’t doing anything particularly significant, he’s always expressing his undying love for you.

“I adore you. You know that, right?” “You make me so happy, darling flame.” “You’re so easy to talk to.”

(LIKE CHILL OUT WITH THAT BEFORE I 🫠)

— Definitely isn’t afraid to say he loves you outright. He’d scream it to the world unashamed if you asked ❤︎

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐏𝐇𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

— Physical touch physical touch physical touch!!! Though I doubt he realizes it, Kyojuro is devastatingly touch-starved. He lost his mother young, and his father is hardly the type to spare a caring touch for his children. That has an enormous effect on someone, even Kyojuro. So when he first gets a taste of your affections, he’s hooked.

— Wavers and melts into every gentle touch you offer him, looking enraptured at the feeling of your soft hands holding his face so sweetly, so delicately. Pay close enough attention and you might see him get a little teary-eyed, because how did he survive so long without this? He feels brittle beneath your fingertips, threatening to shatter with every featherlight kiss and caress.

— On one of your first dates, you asked if you could feed him and his heart nearly lept out of his chest. He of course indulged you, though he wasn’t prepared for you to cup his face and hold a piece of octopus with your chopsticks to his lips. INSTANT HEART EYES, and a considerable blush on his cheeks as he accepted the bite of food gratefully. Kyojuro’s loud exclamation of “TASTY!” was particularly spirited afterward.

— Kyojuro oddly feels obligated to thank you after you give him affection those first few times.

— Kyojuro’s definitely a hugger, so cling onto him all you like, and he’ll hold onto you just as tightly.

— Cuddles? Yes please! This man is practically glued to you, and refuses to be moved, particularly in the morning.

— Kyojuro isn’t a morning person, and practically needs to be dragged by the ankles out of bed. And that’s if you can pry his arms off of you to begin with. His relationship with waking up improves if you’re soft about it, coaxing him out of bed with plenty of kisses over his face until he can’t pretend to sleep any longer.

— Kyojuro wants to hold hands whenever you’re out and about together, whether you’re perusing food stalls, shopping at the market, or finding yourselves in the crowd of a bustling city.

— Play with his flame-colored hair and watch him melt into a puddle. He’s so fond of it that he’ll ask you to brush through it and tie his hair up in his signature half-ponytail most days.

— He finds your fascination with his hands endearing, and can’t stop smiling to himself when you play with them idly.

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 & 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

— Tengen is definitely a gift-giver! He always returns from his assignments with something shiny or expensive to drop into your lap and watch you gush over it.

— He’s always thinking of you and has a habit of buying things that even remotely remind him of you. Though sometimes it seems like he purchases things just cus he thinks they’re flashy, and is a bit perplexed when they don’t seem to have the same effect on you. If you’re someone who prefers more humble gifts, or handmade items, he will adapt. A bit begrudgingly, because he wants to give you nice things, glittery things. Because he thinks you deserve them.

— His whole demeanor changes the moment he sees the way your face lights up when he gifts you something more practical. Pays closer attention to things you actually use when considering future gifts.

— Often gifts you things in hopes that you’ll wear them on your person. Whether it be jewelry he thinks matches your eyes, a bright kimono in a color he just knows would compliment your skin tone, or more… skimpy garments. For his eyes only, of course.

— he also strikes me as an acts of service guy? Tengen will do just about anything to protect you, all too ready to put your life before his own. And though he won’t say it outright, he likes doing things for you. It hardly matters if you’re capable of doing tasks on your own, he wants to do them for you.

— And if you’re not the type to ask for help? He’ll just have to make your life a little harder. Puts your things on high shelves so you have to come looking for him to get them down for you, purchases extra heavy furniture so you have to ask so sweetly if he could move it, and doesn’t let you pay for a damn thing!

— It might be irritating, but he just wants you to need him, even in small ways. That’s what you get for getting involved with a man with an inflated ego that values you above all else.

𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

— Quite unsurprisingly words of affirmation. Tell him all the things you like about him, he’s got his chin on his hand and kicking his feet giddily. Has the nerve to ask, “and what else, darling?” As if you won’t go off about how devastatingly attractive he is 🗣

— Pile on the praise, he’s lapping it all up. You’ll have him monologuing at this rate, hardly able to get a word in as he drones on about himself. Honestly, you shouldn’t feed into his ego so much, his head’s already as big as his waist 😒

“You’re so pretty, Lord Tengen,” you’d purr, and he’s fluffing up like a bird, practically oozing with pride at your praise.

“How kind of you to notice!” Tengen laughs, because of course he knows it, but can’t help but get cocky when his lover is forthright with their admiration for him.

— Though if you keep flattering him like that you might get him a little too excited, and he’s even more insufferable when his ego isn’t the only thing swelling.

— Praise beyond his appearance will surprise him, and it’s your secret weapon. Tell him that you feel safe with him, and that he does such a good job of protecting you. Gush about how helpful he is, or how well he treats you, and watch him melt, a bit unsure of what to say for once.

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjirou kamado x reader #tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x reader #inosuke hashibira x reader #inosuke x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #tengen uzui x reader #uzui tengen x reader #tengen x reader #kyojuro x reader #kny headcanons #kny x reader #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer x reader

3K notes · View notes