#but it's rude to the guy who suggested it to rip his idea apart
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isfjmel-phleg · 8 months ago
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This is a personal post.
I'm sorry, I just don't want to work with people who can't have an email discussion about a gift for the boss without getting in snide digs at something, anything, anymore. I don't know how much more I can handle of this before I say something controversial right to their faces.
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subbykboys · 4 years ago
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new to this | taeyong
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↳ pairing : virgin!taeyong x reader
Genre ➞ pure smut oof
Warnings ➞ sub!taeyong, corruption kink, begging, mild degrading, handjob, fingering (m. receiving), public-ish(?), mild choking, running into walls
Word Count ➞ 8.3k
requested by @ninachocoo
posted ; 3.08.21
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Hot. God, it was so hot. 
Then again, summer in your part of town always was. But this heat— this heat was different. It surrounded you, pulling perspiration from your pores and clinging to you persistently. It spilled down your throat, filling your lungs with every deep inhale. It robbed you of any and all of your energy, leaving you too tired to rouse yourself from where you lay on the cool tile floor of your kitchen in front of the open fridge (the absolute coldest spot you could find in your entire house). 
You didn’t cope very well in warm weather, if that wasn’t obvious. 
And, at the cost of your poor housemate’s sanity, you always found new and creative ways to cope with the excruciating rise in temperature, 
“Y/n a few of my— how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?!” You couldn’t bring yourself to so much as flinch as the fridge door was abruptly slammed shut, only managing to pull a whining complaint from the back of your throat as your only source of cool air was ever so rudely ripped away. 
“Fuck you, Mark. It’s too fucking hot to worry about the stupid electricity bill.” You huffed, peeling your eyes open just long enough to shoot an icy glare in the direction of the scowling brunette. 
He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, lower lip jutting out. “I think you forget that it’s a combination of both of our money going into paying them, so I think that I have a right to worry about how much is coming out of my pocket because you think that laying in front of an open fridge is a good way to ‘beat the heat’.” 
“Offer me a better solution, I’m open to suggestions.” You sighed tiredly. 
He only rolled his eyes. 
“Oh! I’ve got one,” you exclaimed suddenly, clapping your hands together as a gasp of excitement flew from your lips, “How about I just strip down and walk around butt ass naked? That should do the trick! Oh… but little Mark would like that a little too much, wouldn’t he?” You offered him a taunting pout, feigning sympathy as you glanced down unabashedly towards his crotch. 
Instinctively, his hands flew to cover himself as his cheeks throbbed a devastatingly obvious shade of red, bright enough to rival even the ripest of tomatoes. “Y–you—” 
Your lips curled with an amused smirk, but it faltered at the sound of thundering laughter coming from behind your flustered housemate. Your eyes followed the sound, finding its source in a group of about five or so men crowding up the foyer. Brows lifting in mild surprise, you shifted your attention back to an even more humiliated looking Mark. 
“You brought company.” An apology hung at the tip of your tongue. You really tried to keep your pg-13 teasing to a minimum around other people, especially knowing how susceptible Mark could be to his own embarrassment. 
“Hey Mark, I thought you said your roommate was a raging asshole with the sex drive of a teenaged boy on viagra? She seems pretty cool to me! And hot.” One of the taller boys chimed, a massive dopey grin plastered across his face. 
You turned to Mark slowly, brows raised. But he wouldn’t meet your eyes, head lowered. He wasn’t good at hiding his guilt. 
Welp. No apology for ole Marky boy today. 
“Please, allow me to properly introduce myself to our company.” Mark's eyebrows jumped all the way to his hairline as you pushed yourself off the floor and tossed an arm around his shoulder. “My name is (y/n), but I suppose Mark's asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra could work, too.” 
The look you shot him out of the corner of your eye had him shrinking in on himself, regret shining in his big brown eyes. But, you ruffled his hair, a silent reassurance that you weren’t all that torn up about the comment, especially considering it was hard to deny the layer of truth that lingered within it. 
You’d probably subjected Mark to more than his fair share of sleepless nights while you were up into the early morning giving the man (or woman) of the night the experience of a lifetime. A few scathing comments to close friends was more than understandable when looked upon in that light. Besides, you were never good at holding a grudge against your sweet, awkward, puppy-eyed housemate. 
The tall one that had spoken before chimed in eagerly, “I’m Yukhei, but my friends call me Lucas. Xuxi works, too. Or papi if you're feeling especially— ow!” Lucas yelped loudly as a hand connected to the back of a head with a sharp smack. You watched in amusement as another tall, charming looking man tugged him back, shooting him a warning glare before turning his attention to you. 
“Ignore him. He has a bad habit of forgetting his manners around attractive women. My name's Johnny, it’s great to finally meet you.” The sweet, disarming smile he offered you had any reservations melting away, and you easily returned the gesture before he proceeded with introductions. “This Haechan, Jaehyun, Doyoung, and— Taeyong?” 
Johnny pivoted around, brief confusion settling across his face before he spotted whoever he’d been looking for. Reaching behind Lucas, he grabbed someone's arm, tugging them into your line of sight. 
“And this is Taeyong!” He concluded with a grin, slapping a large hand down on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Taeyong dipped his head shyly, not meeting your eyes as he murmured a soft greeting that you were just barely able to catch. Soft tufts of dirty blonde hair fell over large brown eyes as he bowed politely, the air of meekness unmistakable. 
Oh, he’s cute. 
Your lips curled into an impish smirk. “Hi, Taeyong.” 
A faint blush darkened his cheeks and you caught a hint of a smile upturning the corners of his mouth. 
Really cute. 
Mark knew you well enough to see the gears beginning to turn in your head and coughed loudly when your stare lingered longer than necessary.
“O-kay, now that you’re all acquainted…” he stepped in swiftly, opting to intervene before you could get any wise ideas about his friend. “We have got a group project to work on and it would be extremely helpful if you’d refrain from providing any distractions. I already have a hard enough time trying to get them to focus for longer than five minutes as is.”
“Aww but I wanna hang out with your hot roommate, Mark.” Lucas whined loudly, practically throwing himself across Mark’s shoulders as the cutest pout you’ve probably ever seen fell across his lips. “She’s got a way nicer ass than any of you guys.” 
Doyoung sighed, his face screwing in second hand embarrassment for his friend’s shameless behavior. “Lucas, please.” 
“Have some dignity, man.” Haechan huffed additionally and you grinned in amusement as he grabbed the collar of Lucas’s shirt and began tugging him towards the living room. 
“Don’t worry, Mark. I’ll stay out of the way. I would hate to hinder your geek fest.” You teased, wrinkling your nose as you stepped past him. 
“Thank you, (y/n). I really— wait, Geek f– it’s a project worth thirty percent of our final grade!” 
“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” You waved a dismissive hand over your shoulder, before pausing briefly. Spinning on your heels, you turned back to face 
the cute boy, who visibly jolted the moment your attention landed on him. “It was very nice meeting you, Taeyong.” 
“Y- you, too.” He stuttered sweetly and you had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach over and pinch those adorable pink cheeks. Either pair. 
With one last sultry smile, and a wink just to fuck with Mark a little, you sauntered back into your bedroom. Miraculously, you were no longer concerned with the previously unbearable heat plaguing your apartment. Now, you had something —or rather, someone— far more interesting to occupy your mind. 
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Taeyong was having a difficult time focusing, which was pretty out of ordinary. He had barely gotten anything done with his assigned part of the project, less than half a page filled out with what little information he managed to collect. Luckily, none of the other guys seemed to notice, too distracted by their own inabilities to focus to take notice of his. Otherwise he would have to concoct some lie. But he wasn’t good at lying. He was a terrible liar, in fact. So he would probably just end up blurting out the truth which was you. You were the reason he couldn’t focus. You with your mischievous eyes and your pretty smile and intoxicating laugh. Mark’s asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra. 
He’d seen pictures of you before. But they didn’t do you any justice. In pictures, you were pretty. In real life, you were beautiful, charming, witty, sexy, and you winked at him. Girls don’t wink at him. Not ever. But you had. You’d winked and smiled at him and he wasn’t sure if you were just teasing him because he flustered easily or if there was a chance it meant something a little more than that. 
… he secretly hoped it meant something a little more than that. 
But he shouldn’t be thinking about you right now. He should be thinking about finishing his research. Not your eyes. Not your smile. Not your voice of the way you purred his name and those shivers rushed down his spine and he could have sworn something twitched— okay. That’s enough. He really needed to splash some water in his face, cool down a little before his mind wandered to places it definitely should not. 
“Ah— Mark?” 
The younger boy lifted his head, brows raising. “’Sup?” 
“Where’s the bathroom?” 
He perked, tipping his chin forward. “Oh, it’s to the right of the k— shit, wait. That toilet’s busted. Um, just use the one in my room. It’s at the end of the hall.” 
“Thanks,” Taeyong pushed himself up with a soft grunt, nearly tripping over Yukhei’s long legs as he maneuvered himself around the cluttered coffee table, “I’ll be right back.” 
None of the other guys took much notice of how quickly he rushed out of the room, much to Taeyong’s relief. He let out a low breath the moment he turned the corner and found himself in a vacant hallway, but that relief was short lived. 
Mark had only said that his room was at the end of the hall. But, there were two doors at the end of the hall. Meaning one of them could possibly lead to your room. And you were in your room. Which meant if he walked through the wrong door on accident… he could walk in on you. Oh god. Heat rushed into his cheeks at the mere thought of such a humiliating occurrence. For a moment, he debated turning on his heels and returning to the living room. 
But, he wasn’t ready to go back to studying just yet. He was still feeling flushed and antsy and needed another moment or two to himself. Plus… he was actually starting to need to pee a little. Damn him and his tiny bladder.
Hesitating, he gently knocked on the door on the right side of the hall then waited ten seconds. No response. Just to be extra certain, he knocked twice more before finally turning the knob. Cautiously, he peeked his head inside. The black out curtains were drawn tight so the room was dark, too dark to make out anything defining outside of the vague shape of a bed and dresser tucked into the far corner. It took a few minutes of stumbling blindly through the inky blackness, tripping over clothes and extension wires until he found what he hoped to be the bathroom door. 
Without too much of a second thought, he opened the door. 
Then he froze. 
He thought it was Mark’s room. He really did. He thought he was tripping over Mark’s clothes and Mark’s wires. Though, he probably should have noticed the light coming out from beneath the bathroom door, indicating that someone might be inside. Or maybe he did but ignored it because– because maybe Mark just left the light on. That could have happened. That totally could have happened. 
But it didn’t. 
Because it wasn’t Mark’s room. Those weren’t his clothes or his wires and he didn’t leave the light on. 
He realized this all too late of course. Because now he was staring at you. You who was wet and naked and… wet and naked. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only stare, dumbstruck, mind short circuiting as billowing steam curled around the shape of your body like an iridescent veil, beautiful skin glistening under the soft golden light. Your head was tipped back, lips slightly parted, hands soothing your slick hair out of your face as the hot water cascading down the swells of your 
breasts and over the curves of your shoulders.
It was like watching something out of a pornographic shampoo commercial. 
“Oh—” it was somewhere between a whine and gasp, strangled and broken by the time it escaped his trembling lips. It was so quiet, you shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the hiss of water. So it took him off guard when your eyes opened and flicked in his direction. 
He flinched, body jolting backwards like it intended to make a break for it, but it was like your stare locked him into place. His brain was screaming at him to do something; to move, to  turn away, close his eyes, apologize, bash his head against the freaking wall, literally anything but stand there staring at you with his mouth open like a complete idiot. But he couldn’t. 
The corner of your mouth curled, forming into a downright devilish smirk that sent hot tendrils of desire spiraling through his veins. Then you quirked a brow and it was like a burst of electricity bringing him back to life. His hands flew up from where they’d been frozen at his sides, slapping so hard over his eyes that he yelped in shock at the sting. 
“Ohmygod I- I am so sorry! I am so—” he whirled around, spewing high pitched apologies as he scrambled for the door. Only, his eyes were closed so instead of bolting out the door he face planted into the wall next to the door. “Ow!” 
Your low laughter rippled through the small bathroom and red hot embarrassment raced up his neck and into his face. He could only whimper out one finally strained apology as he clutched his throbbing nose and stumbled back into the darkness of your bedroom, slamming the door sharply behind him. 
By the time he’d managed to scramble back into the hall, Taeyong felt like he was on fire. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was certain if he dared to look in a mirror he’d be the equivalent of a tomato. 
Humiliation gripped at his throat, squeezing painfully around his airway every time he recalled the previous events. He’d never be able to face you again. Not after that train wreck. Not ever. Groaning distraughtly, he sank against the wall, silently wishing that the floor would just swallow him up and put an end to his suffering.
But, there was something worse than the embarrassment. Something hotter and harder, throbbing shamelessly in the confines of his suddenly far too jeans. He saw you naked— wet and naked, looking like a freaking goddess beneath the stream of hot water, soap suds still clinging to your skin. He had never seen a woman like that before. Not in person, at least. And none as beautiful as you. 
Biting his lip, he squeezed his legs together, trying his best to will away his progressively hardening erection. That, of course, did not work. And it didn’t help in the slightest that every time he so much as blinked, the image of you in the shower came rushing to the forefront of his mind, still fresh and vivid and devastating. 
Oh god. There was no was no way he could go back to working on the project now. If he thought he was being unproductive before— he probably wouldn’t be able to get a single legible word written with the image of you and your body burned into the back of his eyelids. 
He was doomed. 
And he still needed to pee. 
Damnit. 
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It was about nine at night when the low voices transformed into booming laughter, the walls practically vibrating under the barrage of stomping feet. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that they’d finished up on their project— either that or they mutually reached the end of their attention spans. 
Regardless, you were bored of remaining cooped up in your bedroom merely for the sake of your roommate’s econ grade and needed to stretch your legs a bit. Not to mention you were beginning to crave something greasy and unhealthy. You were almost certain the group of college boys lounging in your living room wouldn’t be opposed to some pizza, fries, and milkshakes from your favorite delivery place. 
“I don’t know about you boys but I’m starving!” You sang brightly as you all but skipped into the room. All eyes swung to you, wide and stunned as they watched you waltz over to where Mark sat in the love seat and throw yourself into his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world. He grunted under your weight, lip curling in annoyance but wrapped his arms securely around your stomach nonetheless. You pretended not to notice the lingering eyes of one particular boy, meticulously curled into the farthest corner of the couch. “Anyone down to order?” 
“Ugh please!” Yukhei exclaimed, throwing his head back dramatically. “I am dying of hunger.” 
The others were eager to voice their own agreement and you turned to Mark with an expectant smile. “Rubio’s?” He asked, already reaching for his phone. 
“Read my mind.” You hummed, pinching his cheek until he hissed and swatted you away. 
It was nothing short of chaos trying to get everyone’s orders, multiple overlapping voices making it hard to discern exactly who was asking for what, but somehow Mark managed to place all of the requests with only a handful of difficulties. Well, all but one. 
“Taeyong.” 
The boy’s head jerked up so fast at the sound of his name that you were surprised you hadn’t heard something crack. Up until then he’d been sitting quietly with his knees to his chest, staring at his feet, pointedly avoiding looking in your general direction. He could only hold your gaze for a few tense seconds before his cheeks flamed and he dropped his eyes. 
“I– uh– y- yes?” He coughed, blinking hard. 
You tilted your head, offering him an innocent smile. “Is there anything you’d like to eat?” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding an unnecessarily suggestive pitch to the question, words dancing wickedly across your tongue. 
Taeyong swallowed and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. “I– I’ll just have some of the- the pizza.” The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth and your grin only widened as he became more and more flustered under the heat of your persistent stare. 
“Perfect. Then we can share.” 
The poor boy nearly choked on air when you abruptly pushed yourself off of Mark and sauntered over to where he sat, squeezing in between him and an eager Yukhei, who was more than happy to make room for you. His entire body went rigid, brief panic shooting across his features as you made yourself comfortable. It was tight with Jaehyun, Lucas, Taeyong and now you all squished onto the couch, so you were practically flush against him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. You pretended not to notice that he was holding his breath. 
“Thirty minutes.” Mark announced, shutting off his phone and shoving it back into his pocket. 
“What should we do while we wait?” Jaehyun asked, ignoring Yukhei as he whined about how he’d be dead of starvation before the food even arrived. 
“Movie?” Haechan suggested. 
You perked. “I know a good one.” 
“No— no.” Mark cut in quickly, pointing a finger with the intention to reprimand in your direction. “Every time you pick a movie it’s either fucked up or really fucked up. So no.” 
“Don’t be a pussy, Mark.” You huffed, wrinkling your nose at him. “Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean your friends don’t.” 
“I, for one, love a good horror movie!” Yukhei remarked, a smug grin breaking across his lips as he shot a flirtatious wink in your direction. 
Haechan scoffed. “Bullshit! You couldn’t sleep alone for a week after we watched The Shining. And that wasn’t even scary!” 
“There was a tidal wave of blood.” He grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumped, lower lip jutting out dramatically.
“No tidal wave of blood is this one, promise.” You snickered, snatching the remote from the cluttered coffee table and switching on the television. It only took a few minutes of browsing through Netflix before you finally located the movie you’d saved to your watch list a few weeks ago but had never gotten the chance to watch. 
Marked hopped up to flick off the lights as you pressed play, any excited or nervous murmurs coming to a halt as the opening credits rolled across the screen. Beside you, Taeyong tensed, squeezing his legs even tighter to his chest. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, not missing the nervous way he gnawed at his lower lip even in the darkness. 
“Not good with horror movies?” You hummed, nudging his knee. He flinched in surprise, eyes shooting over to meet yours before he quickly diverted his attention back to the screen. 
“No, not– not really.” He admitted weakly, clearing his throat. 
A playful smirk twirled onto your lips and you subtly leaned into him, whispering near his ear, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” 
A fierce blush consumed his cheeks, illuminated by the soft grey light of the television. “I– I’ll be okay.” He coughed when his voice cracked and you chuckled under your breath, opting to cut the poor boy some slack… for now. 
The movie progressed with the usual eerie start before transitioning into something lighter, though the low hum of anticipation-building music never ceased. Even if at some point it became rather repetitive, you thoroughly enjoyed a good horror movie. Most of the time, they failed to meet expectations and you left feeling rather disappointed that your stomach hadn’t leapt into your throat any point throughout the film. However, every once in a while, you were pleasantly surprised. 
Now, was not one of those times. 
Boredom quickly settled over you as the plot developed, revealing itself to be almost identical to a number of horror movies you’d watched in the past. You slumped back in your seat, a subtle scowl staining your lips. But then… inspiration. Devious, unquestionably self indulgent inspiration that risked putting a certain someone in a possibly very awkward (but also very delightful) position. 
The slow slide of your eyes from the television over to the boy seated at your left revealed that not everyone found the movie to be boring and repetitive. Taeyong was practically trembling. He had both of his hands over his face, wide, uncertain eyes peeking out timidly from between his index and middle fingers. 
You had to sink your teeth into your lip in order to subdue the large grin threatening to break across your face. 
Fuck, he’s too adorable. 
Unable to resist, you allowed a curious hand to wander towards his leg. With a brush so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for a breeze, you traced a finger over the seam of his pants. But, with his senses on high alert, it wasn’t a sensation he missed. He jolted violently, head swinging in your direction. There was fear in his eyes, but it quickly melted into relief else once he realized it was you and not some demon. 
Then his eyes drifted to where your finger lingered, hovering over his clothed thigh, and the relief transformed into something else entirely. Something hot and shameful and desperate, something he tried to hide behind frantically fluttering eyelids and quivering lips. But it was unmistakable. 
You lifted your brows, a silent question swirling in your gaze. He swallowed, breath coming out in quick, shallow huffs as the unnameable emotion thickened inside of him, then he nudged his leg shyly towards you. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in your lungs rushed out in one quick exhale, a subtle smirk curling onto your lips as excitement swirled in your gut. Taeyong sucked his lower lip into his mouth as your open palm landed boldly on his lower thigh, fingers pressing gently into the clothed muscle just above his knee. 
For a few minutes, it remained there, not moving any lower or any high, simply resting on his leg and he found himself relaxing beneath your touch. The heat of your hand was a welcome –comforting, even– distraction from the horror movie that had progressed to the point in the plot where the reckless characters put themselves directly into the line of danger instead of taking the intelligent path that would help them avoid it all together. You could feel the tension returning to Taeyong’s muscles as suspense building music poured from the surround sound speakers. 
In a two sided attempt to both comfort and tease, you began gently massaging his thigh. His breath audibly hitched, gaze straying from the screen once more in favor of watching the slow, deliberate motion of your fingers squeezing around his leg. That alone was enough to set his long neglected desire to flames. It burned within him, hot and dangerous, turning his face a dark, flattering crimson. 
It was too much. He’d never been touched like this before. You weren’t even close to his crotch and he could still feel the distinctive hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans which were growing tighter and tighter with every passing moment. At this rate, he’d make a mess of himself before the movie even reached its climax. 
The mere thought of coming untouched was enough to make his head feel dizzy, a mixture of humiliation and heady lust licking at his nerves. 
He couldn’t believe he was feeling this way, in a room full of his friends no less. If one of them were to look over, even through darkness, it would be impossible to miss your hand laid across his lap or the feverish blush coating his face, illuminated by the dull light of the tv. 
Then, your hand shifted higher. It was a minute movement, couldn’t have been more than an inch or two. But it had his pulse spiking in his veins nonetheless, blood rushing downward. You gripped gently at the inside of his slim thigh, thumb tracing slow, calculated circles into the rough material of his jeans. He trembled beneath the teasing ministrations, jaw clenched to fight back the urge to moan as your curious touch wandered upwards once more. 
“Is this alright?” 
The question came unexpectedly, a sudden rush of warm breath hitting the curve of his throat. He sucked his lips into his mouth, shivering faintly at the low, rough sound of your voice, just quiet enough that none of the other men in the room could make it out. 
He offered a sharp, jerky nod, desperately heaving in deep breath through his nose. The corner of your mouth curled. 
“God you're shaking. Are you that sensitive? Or do you just get off on getting felt up in front of all your friends? How naughty.” You chuckled tauntingly, words borderline malicious. 
“I– I don’t— I’m not—” he swallowed, shaking his head frantically in denial of your words, despite the flames they ignited inside of him. 
“I think you are.” You purred, tracing your index finger lightly over his prominent bulge, eliciting a strangled moan from his trembling lips. He was fortunate enough that at the very moment the sound escaped, some ditzy bimbo began screaming her lungs out in the movie. Still, he slapped a hand over his offending lips, looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard his slip up. Luckily enough, it seemed they hadn’t. 
This was payback, he realized abruptly, this was payback for walking in on you showering. 
But even if it was— 
It felt too damn good. 
His head tipped back, hand surging to cover his burning face and stifle his whimpers as you suddenly gripped firmly at his clothed length. A low, appreciative hum thrummed through your chest as you felt him twitch, delighting in just how responsive he was to your touch. His thighs squeezed together, hips shuddering upwards as you mapped him out. 
The urge to set your teeth upon his neck was almost overwhelming, but you resisted only because it might draw some attention from the room’s other, currently oblivious, occupants. You doubted Yukhei would miss it, even if he was desperately hiding his eyes behind those astoundingly massive hands. 
But shit was it tempting. 
His pretty porcelain skin would look so good painted in varying shades of pink and red. So sweet and pure… you wanted to taint him. 
He couldn’t stop moving now, squirming and quivering in place. He was unraveling right before your eyes, and you were devouring it. What a sight… 
Warmth stirred in your belly, and you rolled your palm down. He jolted violently, then in the next second he was up on his feet. It happened so quickly that you nearly fell over, just barely catching yourself from falling into the spot he previously occupied. Yukhei shrieked in shock, throwing himself directly into Jaehyun’s lap. 
“Fuck, Taeyong! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Haechan shrilled, clutching a pillow against his chest. Instead of responding, Taeyong jerked forward, the movement sharp and robotic, like his body wasn’t quite caught up to his brain. 
“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked, squinting at him through the darkness. “And why do you look so—” 
“B- B- Bathroom!” Taeyong squeaked out abruptly. You could only watch with wide eyes and gaping lips as he proceeded to run out of the living room like his ass was on fire. 
“Movie must’ve freaked him out.” Johnny muttered. 
“It’s not even that bad.” Yukhei scoffed in a voice too high pitched for his words to sound believable, grunting when Jaehyun shoved him off of his lap. Noisy banter was quick ensue. Noisy and distracting enough for you to make a quick and silent escape without catching any of the other boys’ attention. 
“Taeyong?” You called softly, worry churning in your gut that you overstepped or upset him. “Tae, I’m sorry if I—” you gasped, words cutting off in your throat as a hand found your wrist and you were quickly tugged around the corner and into the unlit hallway. 
The motion was so unexpected you ended up tripping over your own feet, having to slam a hand against the wall to steady yourself. But it was only when you felt a rush of quick, warm breath against your face that you realized the position you’d gotten yourself into. Taeyong was standing in front of you, face flushed a feverish shade of red, faint perspiration glistening on his skin, and he was standing with his spine flush against the wall, effectively caged in by your body. And he was looking at you. 
Really looking at you. 
With the kind of eyes that had something tightening deliciously in the pit of your stomach, chills of excitement ricocheting through your veins. 
“Tae?” His name was less than a breath on your lips, laced with an unspoken question. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fluttering gaze dancing across your face. 
“I almost…” he swallowed, shivering voice tapering off as he became overwhelmed by the proximity. He could smell your shampoo, a subtle, smoky-vanilla kind of scent that made his head feel dizzy. “I almost c- came.” 
The corner of your mouth swirled, both amused and charmed by the way he whispered the word, tone so innocent and shy that the filthy meaning behind it almost became misconstrued in your head. 
“Do you want to come, Taeyong?” You asked quietly, jutting a knee forward to press between his thighs. He gasped, trembling lips silently caressing the shape of your name as his hands shot forward, clutching desperately onto the sides of your shirt. A shy nod was all he could muster, the words feeling far too dirty to say aloud. But you weren’t satisfied. 
“Say it.” You murmured, nose brushing against his. His breath hitched at the command, warmth flushing through his veins beneath the staggering heat of your dark, hooded gaze. “If you want it, say it. If you don’t, tell me now.” 
“I want it!” He said quickly, only to flush and shrink in on himself, taken aback by his own outburst. Licking his lips, he repeated himself in a much softer voice, “I– I want it.” 
You let out a low hum, curving a gentle hand around his jaw. “Can I kiss you?” 
A shock ran through his body, his wide eyes snapping down to trace to soft lines of your mouth. “Yes.” He breathed, suddenly desperate for a taste of your lips. You didn’t deny him. 
The first brush of your lips against his is light, delicate… teasing. It made his knees tremble, fierce anticipation and wild desire running rampant through him. He opened up for you like a goddamn flower in bloom, melting sweetly when you applied even the slightest bit more pressure. His mouth was soft and warm, his kiss shy. And there was something ever so endearing about the way he clutched at your top like it was the only thing keeping him upright. 
You kept the pace deliberately slow, relishing in the soft moans that fluttered from his chest as you sucked his lower lip into your mouth, gently sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh. He was wracked by a violent full body shiver when you licked over the seam of his lip. 
God he’s adorable. 
His strong reactions made you wonder if he’d ever been kissed like this before. Or, perhaps, this was a new experience entirely. 
“Taeyong.” He whimpered when you abruptly broke away from the kiss, but you ignored it. “Are you a virgin?” 
His eyes widened, a deep red flooding his cheeks. Then, he nodded, gaze dropping to the floor as the tips of his ears darkened. 
Wicked excitement curled in your gut, heat licking at your veins at the thought of being the first to corrupt such a sweet… innocent… 
“Have you ever been touched before?” 
He shook his head, chest pressing against your with every jagged inhale he drew into his lungs. 
You dipped a hand between your bodies, trailing teasingly down his stomach. “Would you like to be touched?” Your voice had dropped at least an octave, a low, rasping whisper that nearly made him keen. 
“Yes.” A devious grin settled across your lips at the quickness of his reply. Didn’t even need to think that one over, huh? 
You slid your hand over his crotch, feeling his hips buck uncontrollably when you squeezed. “Just looking at you,” you began, toying with his zipper, “I never would’ve guessed what a little slut you are.” 
“I- I’m not a slut.” He whimpered, digging his fingers into your waist. 
“Aren’t you, though?” You popped the button of his jeans. “I mean, take a good look at yourself, Yongie; letting yourself get felt up and teased by your best friend’s roommate while they’re just in the next room over. Seems pretty slutty to me.” 
Taeyong couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his chest at the degrading word, his cock twitching within the confines of his boxers. Slipping a finger beneath the elastic, you tugged it away from his skin, letting out a playful coo when his weeping pink tip peeked out. The blush on his face intensified tenfold, both of his hands dropping down instinctively to cover himself. But you were faster, snatching his wrists and pinning them against the wall on either side of his head. 
“Don’t even think about it.” 
Shivering, he offered a compliant nod. 
“Good boy.” 
He barely had time to form a reaction to the praise before he felt you around him, stroking and caressing. The responding moan that burst from his lips was loud— too loud. You were quick to cover his gaping mouth, successfully muffling the series of succeeding gasps and whimpers. 
“Careful, sweetheart,” you clicked your tongue, watching the way his eyes fluttered and rolled as you tightened your grip around his cock, “you wouldn’t want your hyungs to find out what a little slut you’re being, now would you? Mark was so kind, inviting you into his home… How do you think he’d feel if he were to see you taking advantage of his hospitality, getting your pretty little cock played with by his roommate? How shameless...” 
Taeyong whimpered, and you felt the gentle press of his lips against your palm, followed by a meek flick of his tongue. He was looking at you now, really looking at you, with the kind of pathetic, wanting eyes that never failed to make your skin burn in excitement. You wondered if you could make him cry, overwhelm him with pleasure to the point where he couldn’t keep his emotions at bay. The desire to ruin him was almost unbearable. 
Swirling your thumb over his tip, you slotted a leg between his, pressing up against him from underneath. He nearly keened at the pressure, hips rolling greedily over your thigh, simultaneously pumping his cock into your closed fist. Heaven, this must be heaven. Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to succumb to his desires so readily, with such… enthusiasm. But this Taeyong surprised you at every turn. You’d thought he’d be shy, reserved, hesitant to give in, but here he was, riding your thigh and fucking your hand like his life depended on it, his muffled moans pulsing beneath your palm. 
It’d be a flat out lie to say you weren’t beyond turned on. 
There was a slick warmth building between your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your underwear, and tight knots in your stomach, threatening to burst at any given moment. The knowledge that less than thirty feet away, your roommate and all his friends were gathered and one stray moan from the crumbling man before you could give away all the filthy things you were doing to him stroked the lustful flames blazing through your blood. One glimpse into those hooded, glassy brown eyes told you he was suffering from a similar burn. 
“Turn around.” You demanded, somewhat breathless as you tore your hands off of him. A low whimper escaped past trembling lips at the loss of stimulation, a shiver rippling down his spine as his hard, abandoned cock swung through empty air. Regardless, he was quick to comply, spinning himself around and pressing his palms flat against the wall. You hummed a praise, pleased with his eager compliance, rewarding him with your touch. He gasped, forced to sink his teeth into his lip to stifle his whimpers as your hands slipped over his body: one returning to stroke his dick while the other pushed beneath the material of his top, venturing up to his chest where your fingers set to toying with his sensitive nipples. 
“(y/n)—” he moaned your name desperately, rocking his body back against yours as overwhelming pleasure pulsed through his veins. 
“Easy, sweetheart,” you chuckled darkly, splaying a steadying palm across his hips as they began grinding back into yours, “you sound like you're about to burst.” 
He moaned, shuddering when you caressed his sensitive tip, and an idea struck you. 
“Can you do something for me, Tae?” You asked, voice a low, rasping against the shell of his ear. “Can you suck?” 
Any short lived confusion dissipated from his mind when he felt your fingers nudging at the soft flesh of his lips. A deep blush flooded into his cheeks, but his mouth opened nonetheless, shyly taking your digits inside. 
“There you go…” you purred, feeling his tongue lick delicately at the pads of your middle and ring finger. He sucked, and you lowered your head to press slow, encouraging kisses laced with whispered praises to the juncture of his throat. You felt the soft vibrations of his muffled moans quivering through your knuckles and against your lips. He was shaking, the stimulation to his cock causing violent tremors to wrack his body. He wasn’t far off from release, you could tell as much by the way he was twitching and the slow increase in volume of his sounds. 
But you weren’t finished yet. 
Not by a long shot. 
You pulled your fingers from his mouth, the suction of his lips giving with a lewd, wet pop. A filthy sound coming from such innocent lips. 
Leaning forward, you nipped gently at the shell of his red tinted ear, hand releasing his dick in favor of venturing beneath the hem of his pants. You heard his breath hitched and offered quietly, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” 
Taeyong nodded in understanding, but offered no resistance as you pushed the thick denim down over the soft curve of his ass. His shoulders jumped, a gasp shooting from his lips when you slid a saliva soaked finger between his cheeks, coming to the abrupt realization of what your intentions were. 
“O– oh—” 
“Is this alright?” 
He swallowed, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “I– I’ve never…” 
You soothed a hand down the front of his thigh, “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” 
There was no judgement in your tone, rather a gentleness to the reassurance that put his buzzing nerves at ease. “That’s not it,” he shook his head, gnawing at the corner of his lip as a soft pink crept across his cheeks, “j– just…” 
“Just?” 
Taeyong drew in a deep, trembling breath. Your furrowed brows shot to your hairline, heat twisting in your gut as he suddenly bent himself over, sticking his ass out, practically fucking presenting himself to you. “B- be gentle…” he whispered shyly, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. 
Steam would surely start coming out of your nose if your temperature rose any further. This is fucking ridiculous. How was it possible for a man to be so cute yet so sexy all at once? This couldn’t be good for your health… 
Smirking deviously, you settled a palm between his shoulder blades, pressing down ever so slightly and watching as he delicately arched his spine. “I’m always gentle.” 
A hiccuping moan rushed from his chest at the first careful press of your finger, his brows furrowing deeply as his muscles tightened in response to the foreign stretch. 
“Relax, sweetheart.” You reminded lightly, settling soothing kisses across his shoulder. He drew in a series of deep breaths, allowing himself to adjust to the sensation of having something inside of him while melting into the tender caress of your cool lips across his feverish skin. You felt the slow dissipation of tension, felt the way he melted beneath you. “There you go…” you cooed, easing into him until your knuckle before allowing him a few moments to adjust. 
He was panting, forehead thudding softly against the wall as his hips trembled, a strange but not unpleasant feeling sparking to life inside of him. 
“Oh…” it was a barely audible sound, soft and breathless of shuddering lips. But you didn’t miss it, didn’t miss the way his shoulders drooped, his walls tight relaxing ever so faintly around the intruding digit. The corner of your mouth curled upwards in a salacious smirk, and you curled your finger experimentally. 
His reaction was instantaneous, a moan of surprise entwined with unexpected pleasure rushing from his flush throat. He glanced back at you from over his shoulder, eyes wide and trembling, hazy with an emotion you immediately recognized as pure, unfiltered lust. Your grin widened, almost triumphant as you whispered, “feel that?” 
He nodded rapidly, a gasp of breath wracking his chest. “Yes,” his hands were curling into fists where they were braced against the plaster wall. 
“Wanna feel it again?” 
The sound he let out was a combination of several things, keening and desperate for the sensation he’d never before experienced. “Please. Please.” 
It was impossible to say anything but yes when he begged like that. 
You rewarded him by stretching him out around a second finger, his knees nearly giving out when you thrust them in as deep as they would go. He was an absolute mess, forced to slap a quivering hand over his gaping mouth when his teeth proved insufficient at keeping his sounds in. You were enjoying yourself perhaps a little too much, enjoying watching him slowly crumble, enjoying watching his innocence shatter into tiny irreparable pieces on the floor beside glistening drops of precum. He was just too irresistible… 
“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” He was nodding before you even finished the question, muffled moans and sobs escaping through his fingers as he fucked himself back onto yours. You curve a hand around the shape of his jaw, tugging his head back at an angle that surely causes a strain in his neck, and slot your lips into his. Shoving your tongue down his throat proves a far more efficient means of keeping him quiet. 
But when you curled your fingers inside of him, subsequently stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, even your mouth wasn’t enough to stifle the shriek of pleasure that burst from his throat. You were hoping the screams you heard emulating from the other room were enough to drown it out. 
“Keep your voice down.” You all but snarled, curling a hand around his throat. 
“I- I can’t— oh god, it feels so g- good.” He babbled, voice strained from the sheer effort of trying to keep himself from crying out in bliss. “I’m g- gonna come— I’m gonna c- come—” the sound of him choking on his words, gasping for breath around the added resistance of your restricting hold was even hotter than you imagined it would be. 
“Gone on, sweetheart. Let me see you make a mess of yourself.” You kissed the shell of his ear, deciding then to have mercy and offer his pathetic, weeping cock a helping hand. He was finished the moment your fingers grazed his tip, struck with an orgasm so powerful it had his knees buckling beneath the weight of his quivering body. 
His jaw when slack, unleashing every pent up sound he’d managed to keep bottled up thus far. They came rushing out of him too quickly to stop, not that you made much of an effort. You were enjoying the way he was moaning your name like it was his saving grace far too much to care whether or not the other boys were hearing. In fact, the thought of them hearing their sweet, innocent Taeyong whimpering like a bitch in heat, moaning your name, gave you an unexpected rush of delight. 
You didn’t stop fucking your fingers into his tight little hole until you were certain you’d milked him for all he was worth, until he was reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess against your chest, barely able to keep himself upright. 
“Oh my g- god.” He murmured shakily, head falling back to rest on your shoulder. 
A low chuckle slid from your lips as you gently released his spent cock, simultaneously pulling out of him. He winced faintly, whining weakly at the unpleasant emptiness that ensued. 
“That felt pretty good didn’t it?” You teased. 
He bit his lip, humming airily as he melted into your hold. 
“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Taeyong?” Your words danced over the curve of his throat, flooding his senses with the fluttering implication. Blushing, he nodded, a shy bob of his head that caused the sweat soaked fringes of his bangs to fall over his eyes, clinging delicately to his pretty eyelashes. “Words?” 
“I—” he swallowed, gaze flitting as his face reddened further, “I’m a g- good boy.” 
You mouth curled deviously. Holding your come covered hand up to his panting mouth, you whispered against the shell of his ear, “good boys clean up their mess.” 
His breath hitched, wide eyes jumping over to meet yours. You held his gaze boldly, cocking an expectant brow. Then, ever so lightly, his tongue dipped out from between red bitten lips, kitten licking his come from your fingertips. You could’ve come right then and there, watching him shyly lap his own release from your hand. Honestly you would’ve been happy to stay like that all night, his tongue tracing the lines of your palm, caressing your knuckles… 
But then the doorbell rang, and someone cleared their throat in the other room. 
“Uh… foods here.” 
Taeyong leapt away from you with a gasp, flushing deeply as his hands flew to tuck himself back into his jeans. 
“D- do you think they—” his voice cracked and he coughed as crimson crept up his neck. 
You smirked, not in the least bit ashamed. 
“Oh, definitely.”
A/N; well i dropped off the face of the earth, sorry about that loves. but i think you’ll be happy to know that i have a number of wip sitting in drafts, should i tease the banners? 
3K notes · View notes
gguksgalaxy · 4 years ago
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Stranded | JJK | E2L
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Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.
›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook ›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst ›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+) ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 13k ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles. Warnings Include: A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug.  Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.
A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!
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“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”
You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”
He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”
“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”
Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.
“Please, do it for me.”
You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”
“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”
Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.
Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”
“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.
“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”
You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.
“Are you still with me?”  Taehyung asks.
“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”
“Even inviting Jungkook?”
“Anything but that.”  It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.
Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”
The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.
“I will consider it.”
“That’s not a no.”
“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”
He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”
“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.
So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.
Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.
Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.
Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.
He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”
Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.
“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”
He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.
You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”
He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”
“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”
“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”
“I don’t.”
“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.
You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.
He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”
“No,” you grumble.
“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”
You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.
Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”
And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.
“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”
“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”
“It’s October.”
“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”
“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”
A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?
He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”
If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”
“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”
“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.
Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”
You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.
“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”
What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”
He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”
“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”
“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.
You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.
“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.
‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”
Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”
The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.
Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.
He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.
“Are you gawking at me?”  He says, stopping his movements mid-air.
Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”
His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”
“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?”  You poke his forehead.
He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”
“I’m listening!”
Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”
Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”
“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.
“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.
“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”
Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”
He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.”  Why does this sound so hot when he says it?
God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.”  It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.
He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”
“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”
Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.”  There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”
You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”
The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.
“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.
Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”
“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.
Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”
Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”
“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”
“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.”  He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.”  Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.
This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.
“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.
Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”
Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”
When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.
“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”
Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”
His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”
You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.
“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.
Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”  
You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”
Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”
“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.
Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”
That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.
“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.
Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”
His face changes, eyes wide.
“What are you trying to say?” you press.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”
“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”
All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.
Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.
Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.
Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday
“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge
“Take it or starve. Your choice.”
He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”
“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.
Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.
“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”
“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”
“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.
Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”
He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.
“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”
You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.
Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”
He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”
“You study?”
“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”
You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”
Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”
“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”
“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.
You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.
Then, he grins.
You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.
Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”
“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”
Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”
“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”
“What am I now? A villain?”
“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.”  You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.
He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.”  The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”
“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”
The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.
The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.
Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.
“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”
You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”
He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”
“No.”
“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”
“You would not.”
He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”
In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.
“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”
That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.
Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”
“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”
“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”
You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”
“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”
“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.
He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”
Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”
“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”
In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”
Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.
It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.
Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.
“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”
You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”
Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”
“Huh?! That can’t be right!”
“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”
You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”
“Are you accusing me of lying?”
“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.”  You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”
He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”
You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours
“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.
Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”
Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”
Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.
As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.
“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”
Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”
You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.
“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”
“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”
For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”
At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.
“Why are you saying it like that?”
He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”
You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.
“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.
Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.
He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.
Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.
Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.
He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.
Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.
“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”
“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so  raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.
You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.
Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.
Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.
You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.
“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.
Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”
Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”
“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”
He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.
When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.
Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.
So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.
You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.
“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”
Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.
You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.
Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.
“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.
He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.
When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.
Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.
Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”
You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.
“Don’t call it that.”
Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”
Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”
“What?”
He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.”  Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”
You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.
“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.
He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”
Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.
“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”
You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.
Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.
He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.
The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.
“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”
He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.
You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.
“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.
As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”
You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.
“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.
A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.
He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.
You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.”  You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.
“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”
Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?”  You joke.
He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”
“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.
No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”  
You nod. “Just go slow.”
The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.
“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.
“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. “Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”
Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.
Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.
Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.
Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.
“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.
He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.
Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.
Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch.  Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.
Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.
He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.
“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.
He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.
The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.
In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.
Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.
He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.
“I’m throwing that mug out.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”
Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”
You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”
No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.
Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.
Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?
“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”
Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.
You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”
Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.
“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”
“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“
“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.
“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“
You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”
He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”
“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.
Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”
What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.
The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.
So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.
Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.
You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.
There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.
The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.
You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.
“Jungkook,” you croak.
He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”
It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.
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The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.
Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.
“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”
Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.
“Do you want to—”
“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”
Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”
You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.
“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”
Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.
“Can you at least say something?” he asks.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly.  “Sit up, please.”  Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”
Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”
“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”
You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.
“I admire you,” he whispers.
“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”
He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”
You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”
Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”
The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.
“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”
“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”
“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.
“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”
What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.
“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”
You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.
But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.
He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”
The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.
“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.
Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”
You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.
It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.
“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.
“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.
“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”
“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”
He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”
You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.
Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.
“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”
“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.
You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”
He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”
You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”
“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.
Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.
When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.
Then, he pinches your butt.
You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”
He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”
“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”
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Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten​ @yoongs-jeontae​ @wintaejk​ @guksweet​ @rynofpentacles​ @mikroparadise​ @jeonggukkiepabo​ @softlyjiminie​ Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk​ + 3x Anonymous Taglist: @jiminskth​ @teresaisla​​ @yeontanie21​​ @tessanator97​​ @ladyartemesia​ @dayjeons​​ @djasheyash99​​ @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz​​ @bbangtanlove95​ @zeharilisharaban​ @jungkooksgoodgirl​​ @topanga27​​ @pjmochii​​ @iwanttohitmyself​​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​ @bel-abysse​​ @jiminsreads​​ @jungkookspromise​​
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© GguksGalaxy 2020 This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work. 
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vdlest · 4 years ago
Text
You matter
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Characters:
Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader
Summary:
You and Bucky together with the other Avengers went to Florida for a mission. When your ex-suitor were also in the same area, your boyfriend, Bucky Barnes, is triggered by your ex's words. How can you make him feel better?
Warning:
Jealousy
A little bit of smut
Swearing
You and the rest of the Avengers are staying in the safehouse for a few days now. This mission lasts longer than you think. But since you are in a mission with your Bucky, everything seems alright. However, things became off-handed between you and Bucky upon the arrival of your ex-suitor, Frank, who is currently working under Stark Industries.
It turns out that Frank has been living in Florida for quite some time now, so Stark thought he'd be useful to this mission. On the other hand, you haven't seen Frank since high school and you must admit that you also liked him back then, but that's not important anymore since you're happy with your relationship with Bucky.
Speaking of Bucky, the guy clearly doesn't like Frank that much. He hates it when he is too confident when talking to you and the rest of the team. It's like he's showing you that he is better than Bucky, but you have no care or concern about how he thinks. All that matters to you are your work as an Avenger, your friends, and the love of your life.
"Sir, the information I gave you could be accurate if only Mr. Barnes here did not intervened and change the strategic plan I made based on my research," Frank said.
Everyone is in the dinning room for a meeting of what happened in yesterday's tasks.
"Excuse me," Bucky glared at Frank as he points himself, "Are you seriously blaming me for your inaccurate research?" he asked then he chuckled, "I am not the one who made that research, boy. So whether I intervened or not, your strategic plan could've worked out."
Whenever Frank and Bucky would be in the same room, a heated argument should be expected.
"Enough," Steve stopped Bucky and Frank, "We should just think of something else. We're running out of time already," he pointed out.
"Y/n and I could sneak off the building tomorrow morning and we'll give access to Barton and Banner," Wanda suggested.
"Yeah, I think the only way to get this mission done and over with is to use the "disguise & sneak off" tactic," you added in support of Wanda's suggestion. You turned to Steve, "Once Barton and Banner are in to hack the security system, the rest of you can take it from there."
Steve seemed to like your plan so he nodded and asked all of you to get the rest you all need because you have an early day tomorrow.
You left the dinning room alongside with the other Avengers, while Steve, Tony, Bruce, Clint, and Bucky are left inside the dinning room to finish their whiskeys that they started before the meeting. You're about to go to the kitchen to grab something to drink with Wanda and Nat when Frank approaches you.
"Hey Nat, Wanda, go ahead and find something to drink. I'll go catch up," you said to Wanda and Nat, they gave you a nod. Wanda gave you a warning look, she knows how jealousy and Bucky don't match up well enough. You faced Frank, "Hey, you need somethin'?" you asked him.
Frank smiled at you, "I was wondering if you want to go and visit a few places the day after tomorrow and before you and your friends go back home," he proposed.
You didn't want to be rude but you are not clearly into him anymore and you know that he isn't the guy you want to be with in visiting tourist places here in Florida. It's Bucky.
You clicked your tongue, "That's a very nice offer Frank, but I don't think it's a good idea."
His face turned into a disappointment, "It's Bucky, isn't it?"
You nodded, "Frank, Bucky and I are together. He's my boyfriend. I know things were pretty well between us during high school, but we didn't make it because it wasn't meant to be at all. So, let's just be friends and stay like that." You wanted to tell him about this since you got here in Florida, but he keeps on disregarding whatever you say about your relationship with Bucky.
Unknown to you, Bucky's near both of you and can actually hear your conversation with Frank.
"But y/n..." Frank moved closer to you and held both of your arms, "...he was a killer. He's the winter soldier. He killed millions of people."
You moved a step back away from him, making you free from his hands. You gave him a disbelief look upon moving away from him.
"You don't know him, Frank," you shook your head and glared at him, "You don't know who Bucky is. You may know him as the winter soldier but it wasn't him. He didn't have a choice when he did those awful things. He is the love of my life and the bad things you're telling me about him won't change how I feel for him. First of all, you have no right to judge him. You have no idea who he is."
Before Frank could say anything in reply to you, Bucky approached both of you. He stood besidd you as he give Frank a death defying stare.
"Say another word and I will break your neck. You'll see the winter soldier you are telling y/n about," Bucky said.
"See, y/n!" Frank said as he waved his hand to motion towards Bucky, "He killed lots of people from the past and he could do it again! He's a threat to your life, he's a threat to every man's life!"
You saw Bucky clenched his jaw and how his knuckles been wanting to punch Frank's face, but you immediately put your hands on his shoulder to calm him down. Steve, Tony, Bruce, and Clint came out of the dinning room and were already sensing not so good things between Bucky and Frank.
"Frank, I don't think it's advisable to go across my pal," Steve said as he drag Frank away from Bucky.
"Wait, Steve," you stopped Steve from dragging Frank away. You walked towards Frank and held him in his collar, his feet can't even touch the ground anymore as you lift him up in the air, "Bucky is not the winter soldier, he never was and he never will be. Put that in your mind. You understand?" when he did not answr you, you tightened your grip on him, "Do you understand?!" you repeated.
"Yeah, yeah! I understand." he answered.
The moment you put Frank down, Steve and Clint dragged him outside and talked to him.
You turned around to face Bucky, but when you're about to approach him, he walked away and went straight to your room.
"He's still sensitive about the winter soldier thing," Stark said behind you. He taps your shoulder before making his way to the kitchen where Nat and Wanda are, "You should go and talk to him. Make out after," he joked.
•••
You did not have to knock on the door of the room that you and Bucky shared in the safehouse, it is open and it is also your room anyway. When you entered the room, you found him near the window, staring outside and you could feel that he's thinking of something.
"You know what Tony asked me to do after I talked to you?" you closed the door behind you and rested your back against it, "He said we should make out."
It was just you, trying to lighten up the mood.
But he did not even dare to look at you. He is just staring at the glass window and what's outside.
"Bucky," you walked towards the edge of the bed, which is only a few inches away from where he is standing, "You know he's just trying to tear us apart. Whatever he said was all a lie," you reached for his hand to make him face you.
His eyes met yours, making you see how Frank's stupid and baseless words affected him. He has always been sensitive when someone is bringing up his past. He is not denying the fact that it was part of his past, but he also know that it wasn't him anymore.
You put his hand on your cheeks and leave a few kisses on his palm while your eyes are still with him, "No matter what happened in the past, it doesn't dictates who you are now. You are a different person from who was inside your head before. It doesn't even matter what happened in the past, only you and I matter. You matters, only you. So please, stop doing this to yourself over and over again," you said, almost in a pleading voice.
"I'm not affected by the fact that people are still seeing me as the winter soldier or who I was before, but I..." he kneel in front of you as he grabbed both of your hands, "...I am asking myself if I really do deserve you."
"You what?" you asked and you shook your head, "Bucky, come on. We're really doing this shitty conversation? Of course you deserve me. When you and I became a couple, there's not a day or any time of the day that I'd find myself smiling like a fool. Whenever you're out of my sight, in a mission or something, I'd find myself longing for you, your hug..." you pulled him towards you as you lay on the bed and putting him on top of you, "...your touch, and most of all..." you twisted your finger in his dog tag and pulled him closer to you, "...your kiss." you said before you kissed him on his lips.
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You didn't have to wait, he kissed you back as soon as he felt your lips against his.
You found yourself deepening the kiss both of you are sharing, and few seconds later his hand moved to your waist and the vibranium one removed strands of hair blocking your face.
He pulled from your kisses as he caresses your face, "How did I get so damn lucky to have you, y/n?" he asked as he look into your eyes deeply.
You smiled, "We're both of lucky. We'll talk about your cocky attitude later, but for now..." you pushed yourself up and push him on the bed as you straddle him on his waist, "...I need you to do me."
He smiled as he pull your shirt up, undressing you and leaving you on your brassiere, "Oh, on the contrary..." he pulled himself up and unclasps your bra, "...I'm the only person who deserves you."
You grin but before you could say anything, he kisses you and claims your lips like a hungry beast and you're his last meal. While he's busy ravishing you with his lips, your hands are busy unbuttoning his shirt, but when you ran out of patience, you just rip it off.
Upon hearing the shattering sound of fabrics, he stopped kissing you, surprised with your aggressiveness, "Did you also learned that from Nat?" he asked.
You chuckled, "No, I learned that with you, asshole. Now stop talking, just do the work."
He pinned you against the bed, feeling the matress behind you as he slowly tug your pants down alongside with your panties.
"Spread your legs for me, and let me taste you, my love."
You obliged and spread your legs to the hungry man in front of you.
"This is gonna be a long night, so hang on and let me make it up to you," he said before he went down between your legs, remembering that Tony told you to make out, but you ended up doing a lot more. MORE.
-v.dl
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theoreticslut · 4 years ago
Text
“You don’t share real well”
pairing: fred weasley x reader x george weasley
requested: no
word count: 2k
warnings: none, fluff maybe
A/N: this is totally just a fluff idea I had based on how I’ve rarely ever shared a bed with anyone and how totally inept I am at leaving the blankets alone. If I don’t rip them off the bed to form myself into a burrito, then they’re kicked off the end of the bed. I hope some people relate to this or at the very least find it funny and enjoyable. Leave me comments and let me know what you think! Xx
Taglist: send me a message/comment if you’d like to be added to a general taglist!!
It had been a long few months since you’ve last seen your two best friends. When Fred and George decided to drop out of school, it became nearly impossible to see them since you couldn’t easily leave the castle. You sent letters back and forth nearly every day, and you had managed to sneak out once or twice, but it wasn’t the same as what you were used to with them.
In one of their last letters they sent you they said that they’d meet you at the burrow before their brother’s wedding.
That was still about two weeks ago though and you were more than excited to see them. You missed the two idiots more than anything, except you couldn’t say anything about them visiting to anyone else as they wanted it to be a surprise.
You had been staying at the burrow pretty much since school let out as your parents weren’t really around. Molly didn’t mind because in all honestly she saw you as a second daughter. She knew how close you and the twins were, as well as how the younger two Weasleys looked up to you as an older sibling
“Y/n, dear. Why don’t you go up to bed? You look exhausted.” Molly suggests after you’ve zoned out for the fourth time in twenty minutes.
You had been helping prepare for the wedding; making sure the house was tidied up from top to bottom, make sure the yard was in top condition, helping prep all the food and bake the desserts. Truthfully you have been busy for the last week.
“Are you sure, Molly? I’d like to help finish up.” You yawn even though it’s only about 9:30 at night.
“I’m sure, dear. Go on to bed, now. Tomorrow will be a bit of relaxation before the big day.”
You nod, smiling sleepily at the woman you’ve come to see as a mum. You were more than grateful for her, but felt guilty for not being able to keep up.
She reassured you again that you were fine to go to bed and nearly had to push you towards the stairs herself.
“Goodnight. Thank you for everything.”
“Thank you for all the help. Now get.” She smiles, shooing you away.
Tiredly, you make your way up the stairs to the twins’ room. It had been sitting empty for months as they had pretty much immediately moved into the apartment above their shop.
Since it had been left empty, Molly was more than happy to let you take it over when you were there. You hadn’t changed much except for pushing the beds together to make one big bed.
You liked both of the twins as more than friends, so it felt wrong to you to choose just one of their beds. Even though it wouldn’t have made a difference to anyone, you just couldn’t bring yourself to choose.
Sighing as you close the door, you make your way to your bags that you hadn’t bothered to unpack even though you’ve been here over a month and a half already. You dig through until you find a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized shirt you were positive you had stolen from one of the twins at some point.
Having changed and brushed through your hair, you throw yourself onto the bed and snuggle into the mass of blankets that were a mix from both the beds. Not even five minutes after laying down you found yourself falling into a deep sleep.
~.~
“Fred, shhh. You’re gonna blow our cover.”
“Oh it’s not like anyone is awake. Everyone around here sleeps like a log.”
You groan softly as the two wake you. You shouldn’t have expected anything different, those two boys wouldn’t know quiet if it hit them in the face.
“Would you both shut up. I was sleeping peacefully.” You grumble, not bothering to look at them instead keeping your eyelids shut to hopefully not lose any of the sleepiness.
“Merlin’s beard, y/n. What are you doing in our room?” Fred asks, not even noticing the beds yet as you startled him.
“It’s become my room while I’m here thank you.”
“Uh huh. Is that why the beds have been pushed together, love?” George asks, setting his stuff down and going to take off his jacket.
“Mmhmm.” You hum, still trying to get back to sleep.
“Where are we supposed to sleep then?” Fred asks, and you just know he has a pout playing on his lips. 
“Take a side and shut up. Please. I’m tired.” You mumble, attempting to bury your head in the pillows.
The twins chuckle at you, shaking their heads as they both find some pajamas to change into. Once changed they climb into the bed either side of you, curling around you, covering themselves with the blankets.
“Good night, love.” George whispers, kissing your shoulder as you’re currently facing Freddie.
“G‘night, Georgie. G’night, Freddie.”
“Good night, princess. He smiles, placing a kiss to the top of your forehead.
Soon enough your back to sleep with the twins following soon after.
~.~
George groans as he wakes up. What for he’s not sure. Not until he realizes that he has no blanket.
He looks over at you, rubbing his sleep-filled eyes to see you seemingly buried in blankets as you apparently stole them from both him and Freddie.
Chuckling he works on yanking them out from under you. Usually whenever you all had fallen asleep together, whether on purpose or not, you each had your own blanket. He honestly can’t recall a time when any of you had shared a blanket.
Finally he gets enough blanket to cover up with again, this time trying to curl up closer to you and tucking the edge of the blanket underneath him to keep it on him. He wonders if he should try covering his twin back up, but decides he really doesn’t care too much about it at this moment. Instead, he’d much rather go back to sleep.
Not even twenty minutes later, Freddie wakes up freezing. He sighs when he sees you’ve taken them, shaking his head but smiling at you nonetheless. You’re too damn cute when your sleeping for him to be mad at.
Same as his brother, Fred starts pulling at the blankets to get some to cover up with. He, too, moves in a bit closer but doesn’t think to tuck the other side underneath him.
~.~
You sigh, waking up from a dream that you already fail to remember. You huff as you feel like you’re in satan’s sauna. Between the blankets, the twins’ body heat, and being squished in the middle you feel like you’re burning alive.
Carefully you try to wiggle yourself out of Fred and George’s hold to pull the blanket down just enough to get some fresh air.
Soon enough you’re falling back asleep at just the right body temperature.
~.~
You groan as you roll over, not yet opening your eyes. You can tell it’s daylight, but not quite time to get up. Maybe another hour or two.
“Merlin, y/n.” You hear George huff. You frown, why is he huffing at you this early in the morning?
“What? Why are you huffing at me?” You mumble, just barely able to open your eyes to look at him.
“You don’t share real well, you know that?” He asks, looking down at you as he reaches for something at the bottom of the bed.
“What do you mean, Georgie?” You still mumble. You really aren’t ready to be up yet.
“You’ve kicked the blankets all the way to the end of the bed. And that’s not even half of what you’ve done throughout the night.” He chuckles, finally grabbing hold of the blanket and pulling it up over the two of you.
You groan, not wanting to be under the blanket. You’re comfortable. You try to push the blanket off you but George just wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him.
“Georgie, it’s too hot.” You huff, pouting at him.
“Just go back to sleep for awhile. It’s still too early.” He sighs, burying his head into the crook of your neck.
“You’re such a pain.” You huff, giving into the younger of the twins.
“Go to sleep, princess. And please stop taking the blankets from us.” You hear Freddie mumble, his face smooshed into the pillows and facing away from you.
You huff, pouting a bit at how rude the twins are being this morning. True you had been the same last night when they snuck in, but they were being loud, you aren’t.
“Quit your pouting, love.” George states, kissing your shoulder and nuzzling his face into your neck, leaving soft kisses along your skin.
“You’re the one who’s had us up all night trying to figure out where the blankets are. If you hadn’t taken them all for yourself, you had kicked ‘em away so no one had them.” Fred grumbles, turning to face you and George.
“Or you had pushed us to the very edge of the bed.” George adds, chuckling slightly as his head in still buried in your neck.
“Oh....I’m sorry, guys.”
“It’s alright, princess. Just let us have a few more hours of sleep, please.” Fred smiles, kissing your nose.
“We’ll be ready to be up, then.” George finishes the thought, kissing your neck.
You nod and smile giving both boys a kiss on their forehead or cheek before cuddling up with them and drifting back to sleep for a bit.
✨ BONUS ✨
“Y/n, dear. I have a question-“ Molly starts to say as she opens the door, waking you and the boys.
“Fred, George! What are you doing here?”
“Mmm, Good morning, Molly.” You hum, a bit groggy from waking up. “Oh! W-we haven’t done anything...” you say, suddenly realizing that you’re wrapped up in both the twins’ arms. You can only imagine what she must be thinking.
“Oh, I know, dear. I’m not worried about that one bit. Honestly, I’m more surprised you haven’t. The way you all are with each other.”
“Mum!” The two boys groan, earning a chuckle from their mother as they blush a bit.
“I’m just saying. Anyways, y/n. I had a question; which do you think would look better with the flowers we already have?” Molly asks, holding up two different filler flowers.
“How about we use some of both? They’re both really pretty and would look great together with the flowers.” You yawn, still trying to wake up fully.
“That they would. Good idea, hon.” She smiles, going to walk out the room.
“I’ll be down soon to help with breakfast.” You call out to her.
“Don’t you worry about it one bit dear. You take your time!” She calls back, already heading down the stairs.
“She loves you.” Fred says, leaning over to you.
“And you’re just realizing this now?” You chuckle, sitting up a bit. “I’m a more tame version of you two, of course she loves me.”
“A bit full of ourselves, aren’t we?” George chuckles as you do a small hair flip.
“You know it’s true.” You smirk, winking at him as he and Freddie break out laughing.
“That’s why we love you.” They say simultaneously, looking at you lovingly.
You smile, blowing each a kiss.
“Now let’s get up boys,” you say, lightly slapping their legs. “I’ve been helping make breakfast the entire time I’ve been here, you can come help me this one time.”
“We can head down in a few minutes. We didn’t get as warm a welcome as we were hoping for last night.” Fred smiles as he pulls you back down by the waist, leaning over you and kissing your nose.
“You were being too loud.” You giggle as he continues placing kisses around your face, George placing light kisses around your neck.
“And?”
“And I was trying to sleep!” You point out.
You giggle as George’s hand trails up your side, tickling your skin as he does.
“Just love us for a bit, darling. We’ve missed you.” George smiles, placing a kiss on your lips.
“You two are unbelievable.” You sigh in exasperation, but giving into both of them. None of you have ever made things official, but it was pretty clear that you were theirs and they were yours. 
“Isn’t that why you love us?” Fred asks, taking his turn kissing your neck and sucking at the spot just behind and below your ear. You gasp at the pleasure of it as he smirks.
“One of the reasons.” You smile, pulling both of them into a hug. You were more than elated to have them here with you again. You’d never say it aloud but you missed the two dorks so much.
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bqstqnbruin · 4 years ago
Text
F is for Friends - part 4
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Look, I know it's 4 am, but hear me out: I finally finished this part. Ignore typos because at this point, that's just who I am as a person honestly.
Hope you like it!
Read the other parts here: part 1 // part 2 // part 3
__________________
“You haven’t seen him in how long?” Maddy asks you from the kitchen. You and your roommate were both home on a weekend for the first time in what seemed like forever, taking the opportunity to invite Fran and Lindsey over for a girls day. Nolan always seemed to be the topic of conversation whenever you entered the room, and you had a feeling that he was even when you weren’t there. The girls were overcome with affection for the rosy cheeked, long haired boy next door who was slowly becoming your friend.
Just your friend.
“Not since he came to my classroom last week,” you tell them. “I dropped him off and then got ready for my date with Keelan that night.”
Fran scoffs at the sound of your boyfriend's name, Lindsey rolling her eyes. “Oh, god,” Maddy groans.
“What?” you whine, dreading where this conversation was going.
“I’m trying to block that night from my memory. Especially considering you didn’t remember that I was home that night,” she says, handing Fran and Lindsey the water they had asked for.
“We weren’t that bad,” you tell her, the heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment anyway. You two had went back to your place after the date, not hesitating to polish off the two open bottles of wine that were in your fridge, also not hesitating to have sex as would most couples who want to do that sort of thing.
“Yes, you were. Hearing you and Keelan fuck is like listening to a poorly written PG-13 makeout session audio clip from Riverdale,” she lets out, Fran spitting her water as Lindsey starts choking on hers.
Your mouth hangs open as you try to comprehend what she just said. “Ok, one, rude. Two, why is that the comparison you make? And three, why were you listening?”
Maddy scoffs, “As if the walls weren’t so thin that Nolan and Kevin could hear you playing music in the first place. Anyway, whatever it was you were doing in there I’m pretty sure it would end up in Riverdale.”
“I need you to stop watching Riverdale,” you say, straightfaced to your roommate, “and stop comparing it to my sex life!”
“Oh! I have an idea!” Fran squeals, changing the subject.
“Oh, no,” you groan, knowing that whatever she was about to suggest was going to end poorly for at least one of you.
She rolls her eyes, getting up and going over to your window. Your car was parked right next to Kevin's, an indication that the boys were home. “What if we went out tonight and asked Kevin and Nolan to come?”
You can’t help but glare at her, knowing what her tactics were: if you and Nolan went out and got drunk together, her mind believed that you would reveal whatever feelings she thought you had for each other. Everything would come out in a drunken confession that you would have to deal with in the morning. “We’re not going out tonight.”
Fran drags you from the chair you were comfortably sitting in, Lindsey and Maddy following as the four of your run out your door. You were facing Nolan and Kevin’s, Fran knocking wildly on the wood before pushing you to the front of the group.
Nolan hears someone at the door, interrupting the workout he was doing solely to keep himself busy. He could hear voices on the other side of the door, indicating that he probably should grab a shirt to put on, reaching for the nearest towel he could find instead. “Hey,” he says, seeing you, Maddy, Fran and Lindsey all standing at his door, your mouths hanging open. He could feel his cheeks turning more pink at the thought of all of you seeing him without a shirt, even though he knew you had before.
You, on the other hand, were trying to figure out what to say, coming up short at the sight of Nolan’s abs, sweat making his body shine and leaving you to admire it longer than you needed to be. “I,” you start, forgetting why you were standing in front of your shirtless neighbor in the first place, “have no idea why we’re here.”
“We’re going out tonight,” Fran starts, pushing you out of the way, “and were wondering if you and Kevin and any of the guys wanted to join us.”
Nolan wasn’t focusing on what Fran was saying, he was too busy trying not to read too much into your flustered reaction, paying more attention to how your eyes traced his body. “Yeah, sure,” he shrugs, not taking his eyes off you. He sees your expression change, a nervous look on your face as you shook your head at him. “Uh, actually, we, um,” he tries to retract.
“Perfect!” Lindsey practically screams, Nolan visibly shaken by her outburst. “Y/N will text you the details!”
Before you or him could protest, the four of you are running back to your place, you looking over your shoulder at Nolan, an apologetic look on his face.
Why didn’t you want him to go out with you guys tonight? That was the first time he had seen you since he went to your classroom. He didn’t know if you were avoiding him or if you were just busy, but either way, he wanted to see you tonight.
“Ok, girl, if you don’t want Nolan, can I have him?” Fran drools once the four of you are back in your apartment. “God, he is so hot.”
“I, uh, I don’t care,” you tell her. What or who Nolan did was not your problem. “If he wants to and you want to, then go for it, what’s stopping you?”
She looks at you, a smirk covering her face. “You.”
You scowl at her, not unaware of the shocked looks on Maddy and Lindsey’s faces. “Oh, really?”
“You clearly like him. You’ve liked him since the day he knocked on your door.”
“I’m in love with Keelan. I have been in love with Keelan for a couple of years now, if you remember. Just because you hate him for whatever stupid reason, doesn’t mean that I do,” you tell her, walking away to your room. You didn’t have to deal with this. She wasn’t one of your students where you had to settle whatever conflict was coming up between you.
“Your boyfriend is a jerk, come on,” she says, following you.
You whip around to face her, catching her off guard as she takes a step back when she sees the anger in your face. “How has he really been a jerk to you? Because, from what I remember, he was the only one on the guy's team who stood by you guys when the athletic director wouldn’t help fund your trip to that regatta in England while they were fully funding the boy's trips to Boston and the IRAs and a trip to California for a training session with someone from Team USA. He’s the one who tutored you for the entirety of our junior year for free so you wouldn’t fail your class and wouldn’t lose your scholarship or your place on the team, and did the same for Lindsey. He’s the one who literally gave us the key to his family's beach house down the shore the last three summers in a row because he wanted to make sure that we took a break and didn’t get burned out. But you’re right, Fran, he is a jerk.”
“Come on, Y/N-” she starts.
“No. Stop,” you tell her. “I’m sick of you guys being absolute bitches about Keelan when he has never done anything to warrant this besides be on the crew team. If you want to go out with Nolan, and he wants to go out with you, then be my guest. I’m happy with my jerk.”
She stands there, stunned by your outburst, Lindsey and Maddy trying to comprehend what just happened themselves when you slam your bedroom door, locking yourself in your room until it was time to leave.
Your phone buzzes as you throw yourself onto your bed, thinking it would be one of the girls asking you to come out of your room.
Nolan: Do you really want us to come with you guys tonight?
Y/N: I really don’t care. Fran seems to have something planned and wants you guys there.
Nolan: Fran does?
Y/N: Yep.
Nolan shouldn’t be reading too much into this, staring at his phone hoping to see those three bubbles popping up to show that you were going to explain more. What could Francesca have planned? What did that mean?
He gets the details about where you guys were planning on going, forwarding the information about going to Howl to some of his teammates. What could Fran have planned?
You lay on your bed, your phone buzzing with texts from Nolan and Keelan coming in. Anything you felt for Nolan was meaningless. He was your neighbor. He was your friend. Keelan was the guy you were dating. Keelan was the guy you loved.
You start going through your closet, not really wanting to go but knowing that you were going to end up dragged out anyway, flipping through all your teaching clothes as if you thought there was anything in there that was appropriate for a bar and not for school.
You hear a knock on your door, Fran poking her head into your room earning a scoff from you. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m still mad at you,” you respond, not looking at her.
“That’s fair,” she says, plopping herself on your bed next to the pile of clothes that you were forming from your closet. “Does this mean you’re still coming with us?”
“Yeah, you’re paying for drinks.”
“That’s fair, too.” The two of you let silence come between you, you rummaging through your clothes to try to find something to wear while she fiddles with the hem of one of your shirts. “What if you did the black ripped jeans with this shirt?” Fran says, holding up something that you were sure was Maddy’s, probably stolen from her on a night when you were going out without her and buried amongst the rest of your clothes.
“Are you guys going home to change or what are you wearing?” you ask her, both of you pretending like you weren’t mad at her.
“Can I borrow something of yours?”
“Yep.”
She shuffles through your clothes some more, Maddy and Lindsey clamoring around in the kitchen to make something for the four of you to eat before you started drinking, not doing anything to try to be quiet. “You know I love you. I just want you to be with a guy that deserves you.”
You take in a deep breath, finally turning to Fran sitting on your bed. “How do you know that isn’t Keelan? I’ve been happy with him for how many years now?”
“You’ve been together since we were juniors which was, what, five years ago now? Four? Have you two even talked about anything like getting married or starting a family together?”
You think about it, knowing that you’ve seen proposals, you’ve definitely looked at rings, but it was never serious. You’ve watched movies with Keelan where the characters get engaged or get married, try to have a family, all of that, but you never did talk about it. You never thought of a future with him, you only thought of the present.
You shake your head, Fran giving you that sympathetic look that you didn’t want. “If you’ve been together for this long, and he’s not thinking about forever with you, then what’s he thinking of? You can love Keelan, but if he can’t promise to love you back forever, then you’re just wasting time.”
“You think so?” She shakes her head, but you wish she didn’t. “You’re not just saying this because you don’t like him?” you ask.
“I don’t like him because I’m saying this. He’s a good person, but I don’t like seeing you with him when I’m not sure he wants to be with you forever.” Before you can answer, you hear Maddy and Lindsey dropping something from your kitchen, knowing that whatever it was you were going to have to clean up yourself if you ever wanted it clean. “If you want your kitchen safe, I think we need to go out there,” Fran laughs, pulling you up from your bed. “We’ll change after we eat.”
The four of you eat and pre-game, thankful that Lindsey and Fran actually managed to clean up the mess well enough that you didn’t have to worry about it during your night out, Maddy no help even though she was the one who made it.
The boys said they would meet you at the bar, getting to Howl and texting Keelan to let him know where you were. Fran’s words had freaked you out. You knew you didn’t have to text Keelan where you were going, but there was something about the whole ‘if you’ve been together this long, shouldn’t you be talking about forever’ that made you feel like you had to. You and Keelan were happy, but did that mean that you have to be talking about marriage and kids and all that stuff? Was there something wrong with your relationship if you weren’t at this point?
“You look like you’re having a lot of fun,” Nolan’s voice snaps you out of what would turn into you spiraling. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, signaling to the bartender to get you another drink. “Nothing.”
“Good thing you don’t teach drama because you’re an awful actor,” he laughs, earning a glare from you. “Oh, come on, that was good.”
“Good thing you aren’t a comedian because you aren’t funny,” you fire back, a smile on your face as he laughs with you.
“Come on. What’s wrong? You can tell me anything,” he says, probably a little too flirty. But that’s something a friend would do. A friend would listen to you when you were having problems or when you were feeling down.
You sigh, taking a sip of the new drink in front of you. “Fran said something about Keelan and I that bothered me.” He raises his eyebrows, urging you to tell him more. “Apparently they think I’m wasting my time being with him,” you tell him, looking off to the crowd at the bar, just spacing out with your attention on nothing in particular.
He swallows hard, thankful that you didn’t notice his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down at your words. If you were wasting your time, then that would mean you would break up with Keelan, wouldn’t it? He was thinking too far into this, wasn’t he? “Do you,” he hesitates, clearing his throat to try to cover up his nerves, “do you think you’re wasting your time?”
You shrug, turning your attention back to him. His cheeks were more red than normal, his blushing causing heat to rush to your own cheeks. At least if you broke up with Keelan, you could try with Nolan, right?
No. Because you weren’t breaking up with Keelan. But, “I didn’t. But now, I don’t know.” You set into a rant about what Fran said to you in your room, adding in the fact that Lindsey and Maddy told you they also felt that way, but Lindsey still didn’t like him based on the fact that he was on the crew team and she had decided to hold that petty grudge even though that was a few years ago at this point. “I love him. But we have been together for a while, so why haven’t we even talked about it?”
“Do you see yourself marrying him?”
You stop and think about it. Before you can answer his question, Lindsey and Maddy whisk you away to dance, leaving Nolan at the bar with your drink. He sits and watches you, pretending not to hear the girl who had approached him and tried to have a conversation with him. He wasn’t trying to be rude, but he couldn’t help but focus all his attention on you. He studied you as you moved, the fluid motions in sync with the rhythm of the music, the laughter that escaped your lips when you hear Maddy and Lindsey sing, probably off key, the smile on your face as you joined in with them.
Nolan takes your drink back with him to the table, his teammates sitting there, unsurprisingly not getting up from the corner they had occupied. He doesn’t listen to them as they talk, Kevin and Travis being obnoxious as always. He found you again at the bar, leaning against it and talking to Maddy, Lindsey and Fran nowhere in sight.
“Nolan,” Travis calls to him, finally getting his friend’s attention. “Why are you over here if she’s over there?” he asks, pointing to you.
“Why would I go over there?” he deadpans, not wanting to be reminded that he was falling for you, hard and fast when he shouldn’t be.
“You’re in love with her and you want to be with her?” he states as if it were obvious, Nolan glaring at him while his teammates nodding. Nolan wasn’t that discrete when it came to his feelings about you to any of the guys, apparently. With you, he was sure you had no idea, but with them, they could read him like a book, something he hated at this moment.
Before he could answer, Keelan appears, as if by magic, his arms wrapped around you from behind. Nolan could see you tense up for a moment, not knowing who it was. You look down at your waist, a smile on your face as you come to realize it was your boyfriend, Nolan wanting nothing more than for him to be the one surprising you and holding you like that.
“Is that the boyfriend?” Oskar asks, right as you squeal in delight that he had come to see you, kissing him, your one hand on his shoulder, the other at the back of his neck, fingers intertwined with the curls there.
“Yep,” Nolan lets out, burying his face in his hands.
“He’s pretty hot,” Travis lets out, Kevin smacking him in the chest.
“Then you date him,” Kevin chirps, Nolan not wanting to say anything else to them.
“Karly might have something to say about that.”
Nolan tunes out the boys, their banter something he wanted nothing to do with, probably about him fawning over you while you were there, Keelan’s hands on you as the two of you danced, your foreheads touching and not taking your eyes off each other. If you were worried about the future, it didn’t show, enjoying the moment that was happening in front of you.
“Hey, come dance with me,” Fran snaps Nolan away from you, her hand extended to Nolan.
“Sure, why not,” Nolan mumbles, trying to be excited about dancing with your best friend, ignoring the guys hollers as they watched their friend get up with a girl, actually saying yes to someone who approached him.
The two of them start talking, falling into a weirdly easy conversation. People started gathering on the dance floor, pushing the two of them together, Nolan’s hand finding Fran’s back, pulling her closer to him. For the first time since he met you, he wasn’t thinking about you. He didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol, but Fran was right there, single, beautiful, funny. You had mentioned that going out with the guys was Fran’s idea, so did that mean Fran wanted Nolan for her? Should he be focusing his attention on someone who didn’t have a seemingly serious boyfriend? Probably.
You and Keelan get interrupted by Maddy and Lindsey, finally prying Keelan’s body off you. “Have you seen Fran?” Lindsey yells over the music.
“Not for a while, no,” you tell her, Keelan’s arms wrapping around you, both of you still moving with the music.
Maddy cranes her neck, trying to see over the crowd. You see her eyes go wide, grabbing Lindsey’s arm to show her what she was seeing. You follow their gaze, finding Fran and Nolan dancing together, her arms draped on his shoulders, him holding her as close as Keelan had been holding you. Fran kept her word about moving in on Nolan. “Good for her,” you swallow hard, Maddy and Lindsey turning back to you, shocked. “What?” you ask as if nothing were wrong.
Keelan had felt your entire body tense up when you saw Nolan and Fran. It was probably nothing, though. You were just happy for your friend, your body having an involuntary reaction to seeing her with someone you knew instead of a complete stranger like she normally was. He didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t want to think anything of it.
________________________
“You’re still at school? It’s four already,” Keelan’s voice fills your classroom from your phone speaker, the building empty except for the teachers still roaming around.
You sigh, putting down your pen, pushing aside your lesson plan book. “Yeah. It’s parent-teacher conferences tonight, so I’m just staying until those are over. There’s no point in me driving all the way home just to have to drive all the way back.”
“What are you doing for dinner?”
“Ya know,” you start, getting up from your desk to stretch your legs as if you weren’t on your feet all day, “Hadn’t thought about that. I’ll probably just throw together whatever is in the fridge when I get home.”
“Babe, that’s going to be almost nine, you can’t wait that long,” Keelan says, concern in his voice.
You shrug even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “It’s fine, I’m not that hungry anyway.”
“What time is the first conference?” he asks, extraneous noise coming from his end. It sounded like he was getting into his car, starting it up and driving off to whatever it was he had to do, even though you were sure he still had to be at work for another hour.
“Uh, 6, why?”
“Just wondering.” The two of you stay on the phone for a little while longer, talking about anything you felt like until he had to go for whatever reason.
You get back to filling out your plan book, looking through your one from last year and the hundreds of lesson plans you had on your computer, using the time for prep that you were supposed to get during the day, even if you were always called to cover another class or just had other things to do in general.
Someone knocks on your door, praying that you were right to call, “it’s open.”
“Delivery,” Keelan pokes his head in, holding up a bag of what you presumed was food based on the smell. “Still have some time to eat with me?”
“Keel!” you squeal, jumping up from your desk chair to greet him. You pull him into your room, grabbing some paper towels to clean off one of the lab benches quickly so you could eat, not a hundred percent trusting your students to clean up all the chemicals they could potentially spill on the table tops. “What’s this for”?
He starts unpacking the food, handing you a container with your favorite dish from Sabrina’s. “You didn’t sound like you were too sure you had food you could eat, and knowing you and Maddy, you’re probably on the end of food from your last shopping trip. Plus,” he says, leaning closer to you, “this way, I get to have dinner with my girl.” His lips connect to yours, quick and sweet so the two of you could get to eating.
For the first time, you were focused on just Keelan, Nolan not lingering in your thoughts. Keelan was the guy for you, you were sure of it. You were almost sure of it, at least, Fran’s words still swimming around in your mind. “Hey,” you start, finishing the bite of food you took, “Have you ever thought about our future?”
Keelan freezes, confused and probably caught off guard by the question. “Our future?” he repeats, “What do you mean?”
“Like, us. Are you going to be my boyfriend forever, or is anything going to happen?” you start, not sure how to put it otherwise.
He shrugs, focusing on his food. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
Your shoulders drop, wishing that his answer wasn’t the same as yours. “You’ve never thought about us getting married or having kids. Nothing?”
“I never thought of my life without you, but never explicitly thought of marriage, I guess?” You nod, not wanting to look at him in the moment. You had parents coming in less than twenty minutes at this point, wishing that you hadn’t asked him this question now. “Hey,” he says, reaching out and touching your hand. “When I think of the future, I think of you and I being happy together. We don’t need to be married to be that. Do we?”
“I don’t know. It wouldn’t hurt.”
“You want to get married?”
You open and close your mouth like a fish, realizing that Lindsey and Maddy pulling you away from Nolan at Howl was the right thing to do, because you still had no answer a few days later. Before you could tell him you didn’t know anything, Javier comes into your room, Anderson not far behind.
“Have you taught Electrochem yet?” Anderson’s voice booms for no reason, Javier somehow looking both annoyed and panicked at the same time.
“Yeah, last month. Have you taught Electrochem yet?”
“No,” Anderson says. “I thought we were doing it after gas laws.”
“We have never done it after gas laws,” you tell him, getting up from the lab table. “We do it with types of reactions because of half reactions and redox.”
Anderson starts going off about how all three of you are supposed to be on the same page, Javier and Keelan awkwardly just there in your room while you shuffle through your box of papers.
“Anderson, aren’t you the one who put the Galvanic Cell on the midterm? Is this why every single kid of yours got it wrong last year, because you teach it too late?” you say, handing him a packet while his face turns red, “Just take this, Javier and I made it a few years ago and it works.”
“We need to be on the same page from now on,” he tells you before storming out.
“How is it our fault that he doesn’t listen when we say this is what we’re teaching next?” Javier asks, sitting down next to Keelan, putting his face in his hands.
“At least we know why his students do shitty on that page of the midterm.”
“Anderson really is a jerk,” Keelan pipes in. “Didn’t he blame you for grading his students wrong on the midterm last year?” he asks. You had filled Keelan in on how you guys split up the grading since you all gave the same midterm; you had the first four pages, Javier the next four, and Anderson the next three. Anderson’s kids always did awful on the first eight pages, somehow redeeming themselves when he put the grades in.
You nod, the principal coming over the loudspeaker to alert the teachers that the parents were there. “I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?” you tell Keelan, cleaning up in a hurry.
He says yes, kissing you goodbye and running out the door to go home, probably, Javier lingering behind for a moment. “You two ok?”
“How could you possibly think something was wrong,” you say, slightly sarcastic.
“I can read you like a book.”
“Yeah, well, I guess there should be a book club,” you groan. “Nolan says the same thing.”
“Tell me fast,” he says, both of you standing outside your doors to greet parents and try to direct them around the school in the event that they were lost, something that was very easy to do if you weren’t in the building every day.
“Fran said something about how Keel and I haven’t talked about our future together and we just talked about it,” you say, praying that the parents passing you by weren’t that focused on your conversation and instead were looking at the numbers on the doors.
“And what does that future look like?”
“The same as the present.”
“You could always go for Nolan,” he jokes, throwing his hands up in defense. “I’m kidding.” He leaves, one of his student’s parents showing up at his door.
You were waiting for Darren’s mom, Mrs. Alexander a few minutes late. “Ms. Y/L/N!” you hear someone yelling, a woman who looked just like Darren trying to sprint down the halls. “I’m sorry I’m late! I got lost!”
“Don’t worry about it,” you chuckle, the contrast between Darren’s shyness and his mother’s lack thereof somehow not surprising. “Come on in.”
The two of you sit at one of the lab benches, pulling out your notebook and pen. “Darren has made some great improvements this semester, this month especially,” you start, handing her a print out of his grades. “Grade-wise, he’s one of my top students. He’s smart, he knows what’s going on, I have no worry about how he’s going to do on the upcoming midterm.”
“That’s so good to hear,” she says, her finger running along the sheet that displayed A after A on it.
“And he’s talking with Sydney when we do labs, especially since we had some of the Flyers come in the class and work with them. Something Nolan Patrick did really stuck with him.”
She smiles, taking in a deep breath, “That would make this the only class he talks in.”
“Well, progress is progress. One class is better than none, talking with one classmate is better than no one.” She looks down at the paper, trying to force herself to be happy. “Mrs. Alexander. Darren is a great kid. He’s not the most talkative, but he’s getting there. I don’t want to force him to talk if it’s not something he’s comfortable with, but anything you want me to do, you know I’ll do it.”
“He likes to draw,” she says, starting to shuffle through her bag. “He loves talking about his drawings, too.”
“So do you think if I had him draw more in class, work that into my lessons for him, that he would be more open to talking?”
“He might. It’s worth a try if you can,” she say, slipping a piece of paper across the desk. It was a self portrait of him, your classroom in the background. Nolan was sitting next to him, doing the experiment from the other week. “He came home that day, went to his room, drew this, and then told me in detail about class. I’ve never seen him so excited about this before.”
You stare at the detail of the drawing in awe, from the dimples on Darren, the bubbles in the Erlenmeyer while it was heating, right down to Nolan’s rosy cheeks. “This is incredible.”
“He wanted me to have you give it to Nolan, if you could.”
The principal comes over the speakers again to have parents move to the next class they were going to, you now waiting for one of your CP student’s parents to arrive. “I will. Thank you, Mrs. Alexander”
Both of you get up from the table, walking over to the door. “No, thank you, Ms. Y/L/N.”
The rest of the parent-teacher conferences go by in a blur, you not focusing on anything other than the memory of Nolan and Darren working together. You did secretly love parent-teacher conferences, as late as they were, because it helped you get to know the student’s family background just a little bit more. A teacher is only good if they know their students, a student will only trust their teacher if they know them. You lived by that statement.
By the end of the night, you were exhausted, wanting nothing more than to change into a pair of sweats and curl up in bed until you passed out for the night. You were about to call Nolan to ask him if you could stop by for a minute to give him the picture Darren drew of him when Lindsey’s name popped up instead. “Hey, Linds, I’m driving home from school,” you preface as you start your car, “What’s up?”
“Mind if I stop by and hang out for a bit?” she asks, you hearing Fran yell something you couldn’t make out in the background.
“Sure. Maddy’s home, too, tonight, I think. So if I pass out, you’ll still have her unless she also passes out.”
You didn’t think anything of it, pulling up to your apartment as Lindsey did, too, Fran stepping out of the car and before you could.
“Hey,” you call to her, watching Fran run over to Nolan and Kevin’s door, a dress and heels on, her hair and makeup done perfectly. “Where’s she going?”
"Uh," Lindsey stammers, not sure what to tell you. "A date."
Before you can question it, Nolan opens the door, kissing Fran, taking her hand and leading her over to his car. You stood there, frozen, surprised that Fran had gone further than she did at Howl the other night, watching as Nolan and Fran drive away to go out on a date.
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obeymeluv · 4 years ago
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Signs they Love You
Back for my 1 post a week to prove school hasn’t totally killed me! When I get a semester break, I’ll post more often. In the mean time, feel free to leave me chats or PMs for stuff you want to see! :) Something nice and sappy for an okay Saturday
These turned out really long so I only did Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, and Satan. I have to get back to studying :/. Maybe I’ll have part 2 next week?
Lucifer
You wouldn’t be able to notice it because his pride wouldn’t allow you to. One of the brothers (or, to Lucifer’s extreme mortification, Lord Diavolo) would have to tell you
He’s not sure if it’s just the appreciation of you not being as totally chaotic as his brothers or genuine human naivete that has somehow worn off on him, but he loves you
Will be outed by sappy, soft stares that last 2 seconds too long.
Asmo and Satan are the first to notice and he LOATHES that
If he’s tasked with waking you up that morning, his knock will be firm but his voice will be gentle. Almost persuasive or commiserating
If you’re feeling overwhelmed by school workload, he may have a private conference with the teacher and grant you a minor extension. Will you know it was him? No. Is he happy to see you brighten up and refill with hope just a bit? Definitely. Is it worth the teasing from Lord Diavolo? ...Sure.
If he responds to texts in the wee hours of the morning when he’s still pouring over paperwork, he likes you.
Anyone who knows him can see how his eyes soften when someone else talks about you. There’s a fond slowness to his actions, how he glides his hand imperceptibly over his chest as if to feel where that emotion is coming from. Boy is whipped.
Should Lord Diavolo invite him out for a meeting, he will bring you back something small. Something he thought you’d like. Beel is upset. Levi yells “SIMP!” from the second floor and prepares for Armageddon.
Actually reminds you about assignments if you’re not already up on it yourself. Your success is his joy.
Is very keen on if/when you burn the candle too long and has a sixth sense for bad sleeping habits. Will put you on a stricter schedule for your own health
It may take almost all of the brothers to do it (or just help from Diavolo) but if he gets drunk on Demonus you’re getting a whole BOOK about why he likes you. He almost charms your memory away but everyone practically dog-piles on him not to because he needs to deal with his feelings.
You’re the only one he won’t chase out of his study when he’s doing paperwork. He’ll even set up a little fire if you like the fireplace.
How he confesses: tries to take you on a fancy date to Ristorante Six. Does not know that Lord Diavolo and Barbatos know about this (damn time-travelling butler!) and basically crash the date just to encourage him. Just long enough to encourage him.
Kind of an, “So you chose this idea, Lucifer? Admirable! I’m sure your date will be amazing! Enjoy your evening!” as Diavolo walks back to his table.
Does Lucifer deny it? Look and see how red his face is. If you’re really not sure, ask Diavolo. He will gladly yell, “I cannot lie!” across the restaurant.
Mammon
For all his talk, when he really, really decides he likes you, he doesn’t know what to say.
He can console himself with how obvious it is and how you made the best choice, but he has to show it! What to do?
Mammon’s kind of confused about it because he doesn’t really change how he behaves. You didn’t catch on already?! C’mon, human!
What, does he have to spell it out for you? Do an interview with Majolish?
His first tactic is to just be around you. Be subtle, and maybe cuddle a bit more than usual. Things to show he’s kittenish and at your mercy. Comfortable with you.
You don’t seem to be getting the hint so he throws the net a little wider by trying to find things you like or that you’ve been talking about. They mysteriously show up at your door.
It sends the others on a gossip train about who your admire could be and when they list off everyone BUT him, he wants to slam his head on the table.
Feeling tired? Coffee! Backpack heavy? Silly human, the BEST man can help you with that, OBVIOUSLY! Mammon jumps at the chance to do any little thing for you because he cares. His actions always speak louder than words.
Feeling kind of defeated and embarrassed, Mammon will go talk to the flock of crows that meander around the House of Lamentation’s yard when he really needs them.
For the next few days you’re accosted in the nicest way, birds chirping at you and dropping off various shiny things
You collect them, finally showing them to Mammon and he’s embarrassed that his representative animal has taken to courting you on his behalf.
He calls them to him, embarrassed and ready to rant or fall into the ground never to be seen again, when they start talking. Repeating all the things he’s practiced saying.
“Hey baby,”, “Hey human,” “Love you!”, “Silly! Silly!”, “Dummy, no, dummy!”, “My human.”
It’s broken and confusing, six or seven bird children cawing in your face and bobbing, but you get it.  
Levi
Levi’s not the best at expressing himself but it counts, right? As much as he hates to admit he’s some kind of shy tsundere, you know what that is, right? He doesn’t have to say it?
Yes. Yes he does. His brothers are getting too chummy with you and you don’t understand his signals. Time for Plan B.
If you get invited to stand in line for a midnight release, he hopes you take it. Then it’s just you two hanging out in line? What’s this? He brought snacks? Totally not for the two of you BUT you an have some if you’re hungry. It’s whatever
When he’s not doing boss raids and playing with online friends, he’ll ask if you want to play something with him. A Player 1 needs a Player 2, you know?
I headcanon that Levi knows how to play some unusual instruments like the kalimba or a real ocarina. I could see him making you a song on one of those. Or just playing it because you inspire him. He’s very good with a harp and will play it when he’s in the mood.
Boy also likes to draw and paint. Especially loves watercolors. Would it be weird if he gave you a painting of you as a mermaid? Just you and the ocean. Beautiful.
Was there a really cute plush or knickknack you liked? Levi has his ways, regardless of how rare or limited edition it is. It will be yours. 
He has a hard time understanding a passing comment of interest versus a genuine want because he genuinely wants everything he’s interested in, so if you hear a whisper about him almost securing something, stop and look it up. Make sure it’s not super expensive!!
Probably outed by Belphegor, who feels like Levi’s broadcasting all of his stress, frustration, and hope through his dreams. (”His dreams are weird. Just different ways of asking them out, and if he messes up it restarts like a simulation. My brain hurts.” he says to Beel)
 You’re allowed to come into his super-restricted bedroom haven when everything’s too much. It’s very exclusive since the Mammon incident. Be happy.
Might go swimming in his big tank and pick a seashell or rock to make a necklace out of. He hopes you like it.
If he’s not outed by Belphie, some of his online friends made a game demo they wanted him to try. They specified it was two player so he asked you to join in. While he’s in the middle of bragging about how he knows people, knows developers, he totally misses the dating-sim like dialogue and the big reveal.
Doesn’t really kick in until he realize the characters look like you two. You’re busy saying ‘Yes’ to “Do you like me?” as Levi absolutely threatens to rip them apart six ways to Sunday. Almost in full demon mode, too.
Everything falls out of his brain and quiets in his throat when he realizes the characters are kissing and ‘THEY SAID YES!’ flashes on the screen.
“Y-You like me?”
“Yep.”
It was that easy all along. Levi thinks he’s going to faint.  
Satan
Becomes aware of it pretty quick but ignores it for a looong time
Is it rude or foolish of him to assume you would also like him back?
Run away into books. A solid plan. If you don’t think about it, it’s not an issue
Oh, but it is an issue when you fall asleep after a mutual day of reading, forced in by bad weather. He finds his heart fluttering in a painful squeeze as he quietly whispers all the things he dare not say when you’re awake
It’s nervous poetry, and it’s beautiful
Satan tries to get himself back on track, to focus on reading, and he gets frustrated when he’s stuck on the same page almost an hour later
When you’re on the brain he just can’t do anything else
How does one show their affection? He’s swimming in books for a new reason now, as voracious as ever
He brews you a pot of Melancholy Coffee and is a bit disappointed you don’t know the meaning behind the bitterness. Wants to break the pot when Lucifer jokes about how it tastes exceptionally bitter to him as well.
Okay, so coffee didn’t work. What else do people do when they show their affections?
Asmo suggests a ‘not a date’ date and Satan sighs inside. Sounds like a lot of work and effort. It’s not that you’re not worth it, but he has a feeling that everyone will know and look at him the whole time.
Tries anyways. You guys go to a beautiful nature conservatory and take a tour of the plants and some indigenous animals
You’re starting to realize it now, he can tell. Satan tries to answer your question without saying it while you’re at school. You walk together, he offers to carry some of your books, and always requests that he be your project partner
Nearly there. If there was a single defining moment for him, he’d want it to be classic. He shows up at your door with a rose and asks you to go on a moonlit walk.
Mammon’s poking fun about how cheesy and cliche it is, Asmo’s gearing up to shut Mammon’s stupid mouth, and Satan just whisks you out the door with an aggravated sigh.
No matter what side of the house you’re on, Asmo throws up the biggest, gaudiest handmade sign that’s like ‘CUTEST COUPLE! 10/10!’
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itsthewritergal · 4 years ago
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I warned you - D.M. x reader
Hope you guys like this :) 
Y/N wasn’t much of a fighter, she was known for her quick remarks and sarky comments but she would never lay a finger on anyone, she hated the idea of it. Y/N and Draco had been dating for a few months and he knew this, it had seemed that she had rubbed off on him as he had started less fights with other students since being with her. Nobody tended to annoy Y/N much, except for Pansy, Y/N couldn’t stand the girl, she was rude and entitled. Everything that Y/N hated, especially when Pansy flirted with Draco, there was nothing Y/N hated more. Despite Draco ensuring her she had nothing to worry about it never seemed to help her. Y/N was making her way towards the Great Hall for lunch when Pansy and a few of her friends cornered her.
“Hello Y/N dear” She sneered
“Go away Pansy” Y/N huffed,
“I just thought you might want to hear what me and Draco got up to in Divination” She grinned knowing that she was hitting Y/N in all her weak spots
“Draco wouldn’t be caught dead doing anything with you, he knows he’d catch something” Y/N snapped back
“Oh really? So he didn’t snog me then?” Pansy said smiling, “The girls here can back me up”
“Of course they can” Y/N mused as she pushed past the few girls in the direction of the Great Hall
“Draco told me all about his plan to drop you once you give him what he wants” Pansy called after her
“For your information Parkinson, Draco’s already got everything he wants” Y/N winked at her
“You really are turning into your mother, a sad desperate half-blood who will go with any man who gives her a little attention” Pansy grinned, Y/N turned around fury evident on her face
“Don’t say a word about my mother, you cow” Y/N said storming up to Pansy “My parents told me all about how your mother sleeps around, how desperate she is” The girl smiled “Seems like you really are just like her”
“I warned you” Y/N whispered,
Blaise was walking towards the Great Hall when he saw Pansy and Y/N, he heard some of the things Pansy was saying and knew that there was only one person who would be able to calm Y/N down, running off towards the Great Hall.
“What are you going to do? A half-blood like you could hardly hex someone like me” Pansy grinned up at her friends
“Oh I can do a hell of a lot better than just hex you” Y/N scowled, seeing red as her fist connected with Pansy’s nose
“You bitch” Pansy cried,
Pansy grabbed Y/N’s hair and yanked it down, fists were flying as the two girls screamed attracting the attention of the students in the great hall. Draco heard the noise, then caught sight of Balise running towards him
“Y/N, Pansy fight” He panted, Draco didn’t need to hear anything else, jumping up he ran out with the rest of the students, towards the two girls. He was almost impressed when he saw his girlfriend dodging Pansy’s flailing fists, he held himself back for a moment just to see Y/N land yet another slap on Pansy. Deciding not to let anything get any further, he wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist and pulled her off of the other girl, Y/N kicked against him.
“Let me back at her, I swear I’ll kill her” She screamed not caring about her ripped robes or the crowd she had attracted,
“I think you’ve done enough darling” Draco whispered in her ear
“I’ll kill you” Y/N screamed as Pansy’s friends picked her up
“What on earth is going on here” McGonagall said breaking the crowd up “Miss Y/L/N? Miss Parkinson?” “She—She called me— She said that—“ Y/N stuttered suddenly filling up with fear
“It wasn’t her fault” Blaise stepped up
“Needing your boys to fight for you? Like I said pathetic, desperate little Y/N, my guess is your sleeping with both of them” Y/N ripped herself out of Draco’s arms and ran back up to Pansy, landing another slap on her face. Draco pulled her off once again
“My office, now Miss Y/L/N, Miss Parkinson get to the hospital wing” McGonagall said
— — — — — — —
“Seeing as you were provoked and you’ve never gotten yourself into trouble before you will do a week of detention with me” McGonagall said after she let Y/N tell her side of the story “Thank you professor. I am sorry, I’ll apologise to Parkinson” Y/N said calmly, irritated with herself that she had let the girl get under her skin
“Y/N you’re better than the things she said about you, don’t let yourself stoop to her levels” McGonagall said “Now go, get yourself seen by Madame Pomfrey, although I dare say you are a much better fighter than Pansy is” She said with a slight grin
“yes Professor” Y/N nodded and walked out of her office.
Draco stood a few paces away from the door, he hurried towards Y/N, pulling her into him. They stood for a moment just wrapped up in each other.
“What did she say?” Draco asked when they finally broke apart “A week of detention, and a trip to the hospital wing to get checked out” “You got off light, I heard Snape’s given Pansy a month of detention” Draco grinned, “Let’s get you to the hospital wing and you can tell me everything that happened on the way” He said intertwining his fingers with hers and they walked.
Y/N didn’t tell him everything that happened, she didn’t say a word, she didn’t quite know how. All she knew was that the words Pansy said really stuck in Y/N’s head. Suddenly she felt angry by Draco’s presence, and all she wanted to do was be alone. There was a part of Y/N which believed that Draco might have kissed Pansy, and the thought was consuming her. “You’re looking much better than miss Parkinson was” Madame Pomfrey said “You’ll be fine, there’s only a little bruising. Better get yourself back to dinner” She smiled
Y/N nodded and made her way towards the Great Hall,  Draco tried to pull a conversation out of her the entire way, but she wasn’t having any of it.
— — — — — — —
Y/N was silent the entire time they sat in the Great Hall, Pansy was shooting her angry glares from the other side of the table, Blaise kept asking her questions and Draco just kept his hand on her thigh the entire time. “I can’t do this” She whispered feeling suffocated
“I’ll come with you” Draco said
“No Draco, I can’t do this, I don’t want to be with you right now. I just want to go” Y/N said dropping Draco’s hand,
Draco looked hurt as Y/N walked out of the Great Hall, he stood to follow her until Blaise told him to sit.
“Pansy said some pretty bad things to Y/N” Blaise commented, “Things about her mother, things about you, I didn’t hear all of it. But rumour is that Pansy said you and her snogged which is why Y/N hit her”
“But that didn’t happen” Draco huffed
“I know it didn’t, but Y/N doesn’t know that” he gave Draco a soft smile “Let her cool off for tonight” He suggested
“Ok” Draco agreed halfheartedly
— — — — — — — It had been a few days since Y/N and Draco had even really spoken, it seemed as though Y/N had pulled herself away from everyone. Pansy was still walking around with some stupid sling on her arm, which made Draco angry even to look at her.
“It hurts terribly professor, I don’t think I can hold my quill” Pansy sighed to Snape, Draco caught the distraught look Y/N had on her face
“Shove off Pansy we all know your arm is fine. Madame Pomfrey said there wasn’t anything wrong with you” Draco snapped, Y/N shot him a smile
“Draco!” Pansy sighed “That wasn’t what you said last night” She smirked, and the smile on Y/N’s face was wiped off.
Y/N waited until everyone had walked out before she even began packing up her things, Draco waiting by the door for her. He quickly fell into step with her as they walked towards their charms class.
“You know she’s lying don’t you?” He asked quietly
“Of course Malfoy” Y/N answered, Draco felt his heart break a little when she called him by his last name,
“Talk to me darling, please” Draco begged pulling her into a deserted corridor
“We’ll be late to class” Y/N said trying to push past him, “Please” He said, Y/N sat herself down on the floor as tears flooded out of her eyes.
“She said that I’m turning into my mother, I don’t want that Draco. I don’t want to be like her” Y/N cried, “She said that you and her were together, and I can’t loose you, you’re the only good thing in my life and I’m scared that you’re going to leave and I’ll be alone again and it scares me” She said releasing all the thoughts that had been consuming her
“I’m not leaving” Draco said wrapping himself around Y/N “You’re not turning into your mother, You’re not going to be alone I promise” he whispered
“I shouldn’t have hit her” She said quietly
“She deserved it” Draco chuckled
“Nobody deserves it” Y/N hummed
“She definitely did” Draco said placing a kiss on her cheek “It was also rather fun to watch my incredibly hot girlfriend slapping Pansy” A smile graced Y/N’s lips for a first time in a few days.
taglist 
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karlajoyner · 4 years ago
Text
Stamps (Luke Patterson x Reader)
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A/n: Hey guys so this one was rather long. I don’t know if I liked it very much but that’s just me being critical of myself. Anyways I hope you enjoy it!
Requested by: kennice1 (Wattpad)
Warnings: None
————
My eyes opened slightly to see my boyfriend laying beside me in his suit from the night prior.
We had done it.
We played the Orpheum.
And got rid of Caleb stamps.
Now we were here the very next day in Julie's garage like we'd been the past couple weeks feeling better than ever.
"Good morning beautiful" His raspy voice spoke as he to was barely opening his eyes.
"Good morning Luke" I replied staring up at the ceiling.
The bright sun rays hitting many different points of the studio since it was probably near mid day now.
"Morning? It's afternoon" Another voice in the room spoke making my head whip in their direction.
"Well then good afternoon my dear brother" I grinned sitting up only to see Reggie still passed out on the barkin lounger.
"Has Julie come in today yet?" Luke asked sitting up as well, pulling my body into his.
"Yeah. Said she was gonna go have breakfast and get dressed before coming back for practice. She also said she'll bring us something back"
"Oh to have breakfast. What a privilege we now have" I said stretching out my body.
"I sure did miss pancakes. I hope we have that" Reggie spoke in his morning voice.
"Look who's awake"
"Morning"
"Afternoon" I corrected him standing up.
"Where are you going?" Luke pouted.
"To get dressed for practice too. In case you haven't noticed I need to get out of this thing" I spoke pointing down at the long royal blue dress that sat tightly on my body.
"Or you could just stay in it. Maybe rip it up a bit make it more fitting" Luke suggested pushing the dress up my leg.
"Can you not try to sexualize my little sister in front of me?" Alex spoke.
"Sorry" Luke apologized.
"My boyfriend can sexualize me all he wants" I argued making my way towards the exit.
"Gross"
"I think it's endearing" Reggie said making me giggle.
"I'm gonna go see if Julie has anything I can barrow. And maybe a sewing machine. I think you were onto something there Lukey" I teased the boy watching a smirk take over his face before I walked out.
I giggled deciding to surprise Julie at her front door for the first time as an actual human being again.
Since I couldn't just poof into rooms anymore.
A grin formed on my face as I reached the front porch being careful to avoid any windows up the driveway.
"Look at you y/n. Looking as lovely as you did last night"
An all too familiar voice spoke from behind me before I could press the doorbell.
My heart immediately dropped as I spun around coming face to face with the devil himself.
"Caleb" I whispered.
"What are you doing here?"
"Oh I just came to pay a little visit.... Tell me how does it feel to be alive again. Oh it must feel great"
"Just leave us alone. We've already defeated you and we're not joining your stupid house band" I bravely spoke watching as he inched closer.
I gulped nervously backing up until my back hit the door behind me and he was only a few feet away.
"That's not very nice of you to say. I've offered you and your boys everything and this is how you repay me. With insults. Nice try trying to be brave sweetheart but we both know your scared out of your mind. Scared that I'll hurt you. Or your little bandmates. Am I wrong?"
"Leave us alone" I repeated attempting to stand my ground
"I can see why Luke's so infatuated with you. Your strong headed like him. Too bad you won't make it home for breakfast"
My eyes widened as he grabbed ahold of my shoulders. My eyes rolling the back of my head.
"I have a fight too" I smirked hearing footsteps coming up the pathway.
My eyes fell upon a face I recognized to be none other than Nick. Julie's crush she'd been telling me about for weeks.
"Oh there's someone here" He said noting my presence.
"Hey, you look familiar. Wait. Aren't you that other girl in Julie's hologram band?" He asked hopefully.
"That's me" I smiled at the boy.
"I'm y/n" I said sticking my hand out for him to shake. He took it smiling back at me.
“I’m Nick”
"So your here to see Julie?" I asked ringing the doorbell for the two of us.
"Uh yeah. I didn't get to see her last night after the show so I thought I'd bring her these" He said showing me the flowers in his hand.
"How sweet. The broken hearted teenager fighting for his girl" I spoke mischievously raising an eyebrow.
"I'm sorry what?" He asked.
"Julie's told me about you Nick. It seems she's canceled on you a few times now hasn't she?"
"Well yeah but that's just because she was busy"
"Are you sure about that? In all honesty she just doesn't seem that interested if you ask me"
"R-really?" He asked looking down with a frown.
I cheekily bit my lip as the front door opened.
Taking my chance and caught the boy off guard, pulling him in for a passionately rough kiss.
Making sure that he fell into the trance. The flowers in his hand fell to the ground as he held my waist pulling me closer.
"N-Nick? Y/n?!" Julie's voice rang through my ears.
"Oh Julie. I-uh didn't see you there" I panted pulling away.
Slipping a note into Nicks hand before his eyes went from purple swirls back to his normal eyes color.
"J-Julie" he stuttered going to pick up the flowers.
"I-I don't know what happened"
"I think I can explain what's going on here. Nicks just not that into you Jules. Sorry. Anyways don't tell Luke about this. Wouldn't want anyone to get hurt now would we? See you later" I smirked walking down the front path of the house. Leaving the two dumbfounded.
I made sure I was out of sight before poofing away to the one place I called home. Awaiting for my revenge.
Julie's POV
I stood there in shock as y/n walked away. Leaving Nick and I standing on my front porch.
"Julie I- I can explain. She just- She was here and we started talking. I didn't even know her. I though she was your friend"
"I did too" I mumbled in confusion. What was wrong with her?
"She left me this. It probably her number but I don't want it. Your the only girl I want Julie" He said throwing the paper on the ground.
"I-I don't know what to say Nick. I um- can we talk about this later?"
"Of course. Take all the time you need"
"I will"
"These are for you by the way" He said sticking his hand out holding a bouquet of flowers.
"Thanks" I muttered watching as he too walked down the same path out the front gate. I picked up the paper Nick dropped. Confusion coursing through me. Until I opened the paper.
She's home at last. But alone. Don't make this any harder and come join my house band or else....
~Your friend at the HGC
I read to myself. Everything making sense now. I had to show the boys.
Y/n's POV
I glared at Caleb who sat across from me. Specifically at the same table we were seated at the very first night we entered this dump.
"They're not gonna come" I stated crossing my arms.
"Really? You think so?"
"They're not that stupid"
"Y/n you underestimate your bandmates. Your Luke's girlfriend, Alex's sister, and Reggies bestfriend. Of course they're coming for you. And when they do they'll be gifted with a new stamp. Just like you" He grinned at me making me scoff.
As if on cue someone flashed into the middle of the room making me audibly groan in frustration.
"Seriously?!" I shouted.
"Told you" Caleb spoke making me roll my eyes.
"Boys welcome home"
"This isn't our home. We came for my sister and we're leaving" Alex spoke up.
"That doesn't seem to be on my schedule for the day. Why don't I have Dante help get you boys settled into your new rooms?"
"Y/n let's go"
"She's not going anywhere. She can't yet"
"Why not?"
"Show them" Caleb said as I glared dagger through him.
"Oh now you don't want to speak. Don't be rude y/n show them what I've gifted you" Caleb encouraged me again.
I simply kept quiet with my arms still crossed.
"Fine then I'll show them" I let out a scream as my arms separated from each other turning until my wrist was finally viable to the three boys in front of me.
"What did you do?" Reggie asked as they inspected the golden stamp on my wrist.
"This my dear pal Reginald is a new stamp and once activated will send shocks through y/n here once again. Only this time it'll hurt just about three times as bad. That is until you agree to become apart of my house-band. Or you could just leave her here on her own it's your choice really" Caleb spoke tapping my wrist.
My eyes widened as the stamp began to float in the air before placing itself back on my wrist.
Suddenly an excruciating pain coursed through my body immediately making me drop to my knees.
"You have until tonight's show to make up your mind" He spoke before flashing out leaving us alone in the empty ballroom. Immediately I was engulfed by a pair of strong arms as the pain tingled on my wrist.
"Y/n! Baby are you okay?" Luke asked wiping away the stray tears that had escaped my eyes
"What happened? How'd Caleb get to you?"
"It was in front of Julie's house this morning. I went to ring the doorbell. I didn't even get to do it before Caleb showed up, possessed my body, made me kiss Nick in front of Julie, and then brought me here"
"He made you do what?!" Luke shouted.
"Uh- did she not mention that?" I asked sheepishly.
"She did not"
"All she said was that you were acting really weird and that you left this note" Alex said pulling out a folded up letter from his back pocket.
"Then forget, I said it" I quickly spoke attempting to move the conversation along.
"We'll talk about his later. We need to figure out how to get this stamp off your wrist" Luke said inspecting it closely.
We sat in Julie's garage trying to come up with an idea on how to get the stamp off which wasn't going so well since it still was sending electric shocks directly through my body.
I groaned in pain as another jolt course me evidently leaving me weaker as the time passed. It was getting dark out and we were running out of time.
"Guys it's almost 8:30. The show starts at 9:00" Julie said showing us her phone screen.
"We've got to figure out how to get this thing off" Luke shouted in frustration at the rest of the band.
The three of them expressing concern on their faces.
"Okay we have to think. What happened last night? What did we do to make your stamps disappear" Julie asked as Luke helped me sit up.
"Easy. Julie said she loved us. We said it back then we hugged"
"That's it! Julie said she loved us. She connected with us and we did with her"
"So your saying Julie has to say it again and hug y/n?" Reggie asked.
"We could try it" Julie suggested walking over to me.
I nodded standing up immediately falling back down as I was zapped once more. The stamp on my wrist tingling afterwards.
"Baby are you okay?" Luke whispered holding me in his arms.
"I-I'm fine. Let's just get this over with" I spoke standing up once more.
I looked at the girl in front of me seeing her eyes filled with hope.
"I love you" She spoke softly pulling me in for a hug.
"I love you you too Jules" I whispered in her ear. We pulled back seeing the stamp flatly sitting upon my skin.
"It- it didn't work"
"Do it again" Luke demanded.
"It's not gonna work Luke"
"It has to. Do it again" He ordered. I shook my head no looking at the girl in front of me. Her eyes beginning to tear up.
"It's okay Julie. I'll be okay" I whispered wiping away the single tear that left her eyes.
"Don't worry about me"
"How could I not? I can't lose you a second time y/n. Your like my big sister and I really do love you"
"I love you too. But I guess it only worked the one time" I said before another shock hit me.
"We could always figure out your unfinished business" Reggie suggested as I regained my posture.
"We don't have time"
"I have to get the Hollywood ghost club before that show or I'll become thin air"
"I'm coming with you" Luke said standing up.
"No your not. You are staying here. With Julie. Where your safe"
"Julie's not my girlfriend you are. So I'm going with you whether you like it or not. I'm sure Caleb wouldn't mind anyways"
"Luke Patterson you are not going anywhere"
"He's not but I am" Alex spoke.
"I am too"
"Not you guys too" I groaned looking at Julie for help.
"Do you understand what'll happen if you guys come back with me? Calebs going to brand you for life"
"So what?”
"So everything we've accomplished up to now would've been for nothing"
"It's going to be nothing if your not here with us" Reggie spoke.
"Julie a little help here"
"You guys need to go with her" The girl said letting out a breath.
"No Jules. You need them here with you. It's not Julie and the Phantoms without the Phantoms"
"Forget about the band right now y/n. You need them with you. You can't live whatever life you have left without your friends, your family, and your true love" I sighed looking at the girl who smiled softly at me.
"You guys brought music back into my life and for that I'll be forever grateful. And with Flynn I'll get through this. But I will never forgive myself if I separate you from your boys" She said making my eyes water.
"Our boys" I corrected her pulling her in for a tight hug.
I sighed in content as the rest of the boys joined our hug one last time.
"I love you guys"
"We love you too"
And that's when I felt it.
The feeling from last night. I was no longer week. The tingling had stopped.
"Your shining!" Julie gasped pulling away first.
Smiles formed on everyone's faces as the stamp arose form my wrist dispersing into thin air.
"W-we did it!" We did it!" Alex shouted jumping up and down excitedly.
"It makes sense now. I didn't just hug one of you. I hugged all of you!"
"I guess love really does conquer all" Luke stated pulling me into his arms, making sure to leave space so I could still look up at him.
"We did it baby"
"We did it" I confirmed pulling him in for a loving passionate kiss with everyone cheering in the background.
————
Up Next: Charlie Gillespie x Reader
Jeremy Shada x Reader
Charlie Gillespie x Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader
Reggie Peters x Reader
Charlie Gillespie x Reader
Reggie Peters x Reader
Carrie Wilson x Reader
Sunset Curve x Reader
————
@lolychu @headheartbellarke @bookish0918 @kcd15 @ifilwtmfc @moviesbooksandfandoms @lovesanimals @lavender-writer @kaitieskidmore1 @morganayennefertyrell @iloveteenwolf @ghostofmgg @jammi13 @theravenclawlife
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starshine583 · 4 years ago
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When One Thing Leads to Another
(Hey guys! This isn’t a fic, just an idea that I came up with and wanted to write about. Hope you all enjoy anyway!)
Flashing lights and blaring music. The perfect combination to either give someone a good time or a horrendous headache. Unfortunately, Felix was never known for partying; so he found himself suffering the latter. The pounding in his mind matched the beat of the speakers, and occasionally, a round of cheers and clinking glasses would spike the pain. Why did he agree to come here? He could be at home right now, reading a nice book in the quiet of his apartment. But no. He had to be at some ridiculous bar with his ridiculous cousin.
“Come to the club with us,” he’d said. 
“It’ll be fun,” he’d said.
Felix rolled his eyes and tipped his glass up to his lips, letting the bitter taste of his Bourbon Sour slide over his tongue and down his throat. Stupid Adrien. Why did he insist on dragging Felix to places he didn’t want to go? Why did his mother have to coax him to not reject the offer? Couldn’t they let him be a troglodyte in peace?
He set his cup back on the napkin that was acting as a makeshift coaster and thumbed the side of the glass, feeling the cold sweat from the ice drip down. Felix was half tempted to press the drink to his forehead in hopes that it would ease some of the ache from his on-coming migraine. Perhaps he should ask the bartender for headache medicine. Or better yet, just go home. He’s been there for at least an hour or so. That should satisfy whatever itch Adrien needed to scratch by bringing him along, right?
Felix swiveled around in his bar stool, scanning over the dancing crowds. Normally, he could spot his cousin from a mile away due to his raging fans, but tonight, the lights were dim, save for the blinding strobe lights, and everyone there was probably drunk out of their minds already or close to it. No one would be recognizing him any time soon. That was one of the reasons they attended this particular club in the first place.
This plan to blend in, however, worked only too well, because now Felix couldn’t see Adrien either. Too many people were dancing and shuffling around in the unsteady darkness for him to catch a proper glimpse of the facial features or hair colors. If he wanted to find Adrien, he would have to venture into the belly of the beast himself.
Felix swiveled back around in his stool and crossed his arms across the counter with a huff. He’d rather stew in this corner all night than try to navigate amongst those drunken morons. Adrien had to come up for a drink at some point. So he would simply talk to him then. 
Another bump on the counter rattled the stray glasses strewn across it, and Felix glances to the left. He expected to see a drunkard wobbling around or another shameless couple making out, but instead, he was met with the sight of a young woman. She appeared to be in her early twenties, certainly no older than himself, and quite displeased, if the quiet scowls and hissed curses were any indication.  
In a huff, she yanked a handful of napkins out of the nearest dispenser and began furiously dabbing a dark spot on the front of her cocktail, party swing dress. Felix assumed it must have been a spill, which was a pity. The dress had a magnificent pattern. Specks of red that vaguely reminded him of a swarm of Ladybugs curled around the pink fabric from the bottom of the dress to the top, and the white sash that was pinned around her waist with a jeweled butterfly brought out the halo of white that surrounded each of the red specks. The combination gave the enchanting impression that the insects were glowing, which was impressive. Whoever created that intricate piece of clothing certainly had a gift.
After scrubbing the stain for a good five minutes, the woman let out a heavy sigh and set the crumpled napkins back on the counter. She then slid into one of the bar stools, leaving an open seat between them, and let her face drop into her hands with a groan. Her steam from a few minutes ago must have worn off, because the only thing he could see in her slumped posture now was exhaustion.
Felix averted his gaze to take another sip of his drink. At least he wasn’t the only one who saw this club as a place of torment.
“Bartender,” He heard the woman say, her voice almost drowned out completely by the music, “Get me a tequila shot, please. Just one for now.”
The bartender nodded at the request and began shuffling around behind the counter to mix the drink. Felix watched it unfold out of the corner of his eyes- one can only stare for so long before getting caught -and wondered how many shots she planned on taking. Tequila was a decently strong beverage when taken without caution. One too many, and you’ll find yourself passed out on the floor or hurling up something unseemly in the washroom. He hoped for her sake and everyone else’s that she didn’t get drunk and turn into one of those loud-mouthed fools. Because if she started rambling obnoxiously right in his ear, Felix might be inclined to finally snap and go on a murder spree, starting with Adrien. 
The woman wasted no time downing the shot in one gulp, and the effects set it in immediately. A shudder ran over her body from the burning sensation, causing her to shake her head to counter it. Her raven hair twirled with the movement and curled around her shoulders and face, but she paid it little mind, merely brushing the locks back over her shoulder and out of the way.
“Come on, you can do this.” The woman muttered to herself as she fixed her short, slit, bell sleeves. “This is fine. We’re doing this for Adrien.”
Felix rose a brow. Was she talking to herself? How many drinks has she had exactly? 
“Oh, Felix~!” 
Thoughts of the woman were ripped away when he heard the coo of his name cutting through the crowd. Felix suppressed a groan, though he allowed a scowl to slip onto his lips. That would be Lila Rossi, his second headache. She was the one person he hated more than Bourgeois and his uncle combined. Why did Adrien even invite her? Was it pity? Blackmail? Another act of that false kindness of his? 
Whatever the reason, Felix wasn’t going to turn around and acknowledge that lunatic. The people bustling, cheering, and lazily singing around him were bad enough. He did not need some cheap, over-glorified ‘model’ hanging off of him on top of that. 
And yet, despite his efforts, Lila still managed to find him. She wrapped her arms around his neck with a sickly sweet laugh as though they were the best of friends or more, and it made him want to gag. Didn’t she have anything better to do than beg for his attention like some pathetic dog?
“There you are!” Lila sang, nuzzling her face against his. “Where have you been? I need a dancing partner.”
For once, Felix was glad that they were in a club, because there were no stuck-up business partners scrutinizing his every move. No one to chastise him when he shoved Lila off of his shoulders so hard that she almost bumped into another customer.  
“Find your own dance partner.” He hissed. 
Oh, if Lila’s expression didn’t give him the best form of twisted satisfaction. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Of course she did. Until now, they’d only interacted at formal events, where Felix was forced to resign himself to social etiquettes. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might be more abrasive in a casual setting. Or, in this case, much more abrasive.
A light snort floated to his ears, and his gaze flicked to the left again. The raven-haired woman had a hand to her mouth, a slight smile peaking out as she stared at Lila. Was she laughing at them?
Lila cleared her throat, finally starting to recover. It took her long enough. He would think that she’d be used to rejection by now considering how often she must throw herself at other men.
“W-Well, I am trying to find one.” She said. “I just figured you might have more fun if you loosened up on the dance floor.”
Felix rolled his eyes. Hiding her gold-digging ways with feigned thoughtfulness. What a classic move. “You figured wrong. Go bother someone else.”
Irritation flickered across her features, but Felix hardly cared. He swiveled around in his bar stool again and ordered another Bourbon Sour, because at this point, he was going to need one. His disinterest in Lila couldn’t have been any clearer, but they both knew that she wasn’t going to let him go that easily. She proved that by sliding into the seat next to him with another plastered smile.
“I also came up to order another martini, but wow,” The brunette drawled, “you must really not like it here.”
Felix scoffed, downing the rest of his bourbon. She really couldn’t take no for an answer, could she? He couldn’t decide if that little trait derived from denial or stupidity. Did she think he was going to flip a switch and suddenly like her nasally voice or her sausage hair that she obviously spent way too much time styling? 
“You know..” A suggestive smile curled onto Lila’s lips as she began walking her fingers down the counter towards him. “If you’re not having a good time, I could call a cab. We can go somewhere a little more.. quiet.”
Felix snatched her hand before it could reach him, ignoring the pained gasp that she let out. He would rather sign his entire company over to Gabriel himself than go anywhere with this hag. 
He opened his mouth to retort- “Are you always this desperate or are you just that intoxicated already?” -when another voice interrupted them.
“Not to be rude, Lila, but I’m pretty sure going out with you would be more nauseating to him than drinking three shots in a row right after drinking two bottles of champagne.” 
The mysterious, raven-haired woman. Felix shot her a glance for the fifth time that evening, a mix of surprised and intrigued as to how she would know enough about Rossi to claim such a thing. (Such an accurate thing)  
The woman faced them with a small, amused smile, her chin resting on the back of her hand. All traces of her anxiety and nervousness were gone, replaced instead with confidence and smugness. It was an interesting change, but if it pulled Lila’s attention from him, he wouldn’t complain.
Lila’s body went rigid, her face flushing a deep scarlet from being called out, and she whirled around to face the woman, hands clenched at her sides. The woman stared back, silently daring the Italian to refute the statement that they both knew to be true. It was a bold gesture that was no doubt fueled by multiple, distasteful encounters. The two must know each other personally. (Her calling Lila by name was also a give-away to that fact) 
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Lila bit off. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
The woman merely hummed, unimpressed. “Yes, I don’t think you ask for anyone’s opinion. That’s why you almost got hit with that restraining order the last time you tried flirting with one of the other models at work.”
So they work together.. that would explain the underlying tension. Felix has had plenty of unbearable coworkers. Did that mean the woman worked for the Gabriel brand, though? Why had he never heard of her before?
Lila bristled at the remark. “I- You- Ugh! Whatever!”
Furious, the brunette stormed off into the dancing crowd once again. Felix imagined she was either going to tattle to Adrien or find some other poor soul to ‘seduce’. Even so, he couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his lips. Lila unraveling like that wasn’t something he got to see often. It was a nice treat considering how his evening had been progressing. 
That said..
“Thank you, but I don’t recall asking for your help.” He told the woman. If she was mingled in with Gabriel’s business, she might know who he is, and Felix didn’t want her thinking that he owed her something simply because she’d decided to meddle in someone else’s affairs. 
Her eyes turned to him for the first time that night, sparkling light blue under the neon lights.
“No,” She mused, a softer, warmer smile playing at her lips, “I know you didn’t, and I’m sure you didn’t need it. That was kind of my own little revenge. We work together, ya know? She’s always such a pain.”
Felix hummed in agreement. That girl was definitely a thorn in anyone’s side. How she still managed to act as though she were the next big hit, he’ll never know. “Do you work for the Gabriel brand, then?”
She nodded, idly reaching up to fix the white, butterfly barrette that pinned up the left side of her bangs and hair. “Yeah, but I’m just one of the fashion designers. Not a model or anything.”
Felix let out a light scoff. She said that as though the fashion designers weren’t critical workers. Anyone can wear clothes, but fashion designers are the people who use their skills and creativity to bring life to the clothes that the models are wearing. They are severely under-appreciated, in his opinion.
And speaking of bringing life to clothes.. “Are you the one who designed that dress?”
A tinge of pink rose to her cheeks, and she smoothed out the skirt of her dress to avoid looking at him as she answered, “Yes, actually. It’s from my ‘Heroes of Paris’ collection. This was one of the dresses that I hand sewed, but Lila decided it would look better with a martini stain. I just hope I can wash it out..”
Felix glared at the crowd, remembering Lila’s comment about ordering another martini. No wonder the woman was so disgruntled about the stain. Buying a dress and ruining it was one thing, but working hard to make a dress and having someone else ruin it on purpose was another thing entirely.
“You could always sue.” He suggested as he took a swig of his freshly made Bourbon Sour. “That stain would easily count as intentional property damage to the company.”
The woman snorted and waved a dismissive hand at him. “Thanks for the idea, but it’s technically a prototype, anyway. I don’t want to cause trouble.”
“It sounds like she’s the one who caused trouble.” Felix pointed out. “If you insist on letting others walk all over you, then you’re not going to go far in the fashion world.”
She pressed her lips together, seeming displeased by the statement, but tilted her head in a nod. “I suppose that’s true..”
Felix nodded as well. Of course it was true. All types of business could be brutal, but the fashion world truly was something else. Every step forward needed to be fought for viciously taken. There was no room for trivial things like mercy or kindness.
“If you don’t mind my asking,” The woman spoke again, regaining his attention, “you’re Adrien’s cousin, right? Felix Culpa?”
Felix rose a brow. Great. So she did know him. Was this where the flirting started? He should have known better than to start small talk with someone associated with Rossi. ‘Sworn Enemies’ or not.
 “That depends on which Adrien you are referring to.” He replied, subtly avoiding a straight answer.
“Adrien Agreste, of course.” She clarified. “He said he was bringing you along, but by the time I got here, I was told that you wandered off.”
Felix tisked. Of course his cousin would say that, but why would he tell her?
“Do you know him personally?”
“Well..” She twirled the tips of her hair, choosing her words carefully. “Yeah. I don’t want to sound like I’m bragging or anything, but we’ve been friends since highschool. I’ve actually been working as his personal stylist for a little under a year now.”
His personal stylist? Felix remembered reading about that somewhere.. Adrien mentioned her name at one point too while blabbing about how ‘excited’ he was for Felix’s visit. What was it again? It started with an M. Madeline? No. Margaret? Certainly not.. But it definitely had an ‘r’ somewhere. Marianne- Marie- Marin- Ah! Marinette. That’s what it was. Marinette Dupain-something.
"You’re Mlle Marinette then.” He said, a satisfied smile slipping onto his lips. Although the entirety of her last name escapes him- it definitely had a Chinese origin -he was at least able to recall her first name. That would save him the awkwardness of her knowing his name but him not knowing hers. 
The woman’s eyes widened, proving that she was, in fact, Marinette. “You know me?”
Felix nodded. “Adrien wouldn’t stop pestering me about meeting you during my visit. He insisted that you were incredible, and that we would get along fetchingly.”
Another blush, this time deeply coating her cheeks and ears. “O-Oh.. I don’t know about incredible..”
He’d expected a coy smile and a swat of the hand to join the statement, giving way to the feigned modest, or at least for her to search out more praise- “Do you think I’m incredible?” -but none of that happened. Marinette simply brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and glanced away, holding a faint, hidden smile. She was genuinely surprised by his words, and genuinely humble about them. It was.. refreshing. He didn’t socialize with people like this often.
“Does that mean you are Adrien’s cousin?” Marinette asked after a moment.
“I am,” He confirmed, seeing no reason to hide it any longer, “but I’m starting to regret it deeply. The places he’s been dragging me to have been, in a word-”
A man ran past them screaming at the top of his lungs, only to crash into something a few seconds later with a weak ‘ow’.
“-tumultuous.”
A giggle tumbled from Marinette’s lips. “I know what you mean. I’m more of a stay-at-home-and-lazily-sketch-on-the-couch kind of gal, but I couldn’t say no to Adrien. He’s been through a lot with his Father, so finally getting enough freedom to go out like this is probably a dream come true for him.”
Felix resisted the urge to scoff. Is that what Adrien’s calling this? Freedom? Because to him, it looked like his cousin was running off to places where he would not be held accountable for his actions. Granted, his misbehaviors towards anyone but his father never tended to have real consequences anyway, but there were other ways to gain freedom than choosing to associate with strangers who were steadily drinking away their inhibitions and discipline. 
“To be honest,” Marinette continued, sparing a fond glance to the crowd, “I think he gets so invested in the dancing and the hype that he sort of forgets about us. It’s like his own, unique quiet place. I’m not sure that he’d even notice if we left until he was leaving the club himself.”
Felix perked up. Oh? “Do you really think that?”
Marinette’s gaze flicked back to him, surprised and a bit embarrassed at the question. “Oh- Well -I mean, no. It was just a joke, but.. He was dancing with Kagami last time I saw him so..”
“Wonderful.” Felix breathed, getting to his feet. If Adrien wasn’t going to remember him being there, he wouldn’t remember him leaving. That meant he didn’t have to wait for Adrien to approach the bar before making his exit.
He never thought Adrien and Tsurugi would make the best match, but if them getting together is what allowed him to leave, then he would accept her into the family whole heartedly.
“Woah- wait,” Marinette stood as well, a frowned tugging at the corner of her lips. “Are you leaving?”
Felix pulled a few bills out of his pocket and placed them on the counter for payment. “I’m here as a common courtesy. If Adrien won’t be bothered to remember my presence until he can hardly walk straight, then I see no reason to stay.”
“But you can’t go!” She insisted, moving in front of him to block his path. “Adrien was so excited about you coming.”
Felix gave her a flat look. “He was excited about partying. If he actually wants to spend quality time with me, he knows my hotel residence.”
He moved to get around her, but she moved with him, this time putting a hand on his forearm to keep him still.
“You at least need to tell him you’re leaving.”
Felix stared down at her, a mix of irritated and astonished by her audacity. This woman knew he was, knew the people he was connected to, and that, should he so choose, he could probably end her career right then and there. Yet there she stood, tall and firm, ordering him to do something without so much as breaking eye contact. That’s quite the risk. 
Nevertheless, he had no intention of seeing Adrien before he left. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Felix was grasping at straws to get out of there. If he went to bid his farewells, his cousin would ask why. When Felix wouldn’t be able to come up with a valid reason other than “I hate it here”, Adrien would insist that he stay. He would probably force him to dance too, just to make sure he was ‘having a good time’. Felix, personally, didn’t want to partake in that, which left the option of fleeing without a word. It might make their upcoming photoshoot a bit difficult, but Felix was willing to push through those types of complications as opposed to these types of complications. Adrien will simply have to get over it. There was no other way out of this.
Unless..
Felix’s gaze shifted back to Marinette, a wonderfully awful idea popping into his mind.
“You said you wanted to leave here too, right?” He asked, lightly grabbing her wrist.
Marinette frowned. “What?”
Felix smirked as he spun on his heel to lead them into the crowd. “You’re going to be my ticket out of here.”
Marinette stuttered a bit while she stumbled behind him, and although he couldn’t see her face, he could hear the confusion in her voice when she asked, “Your ticket? What do you mean?”
Felix weaved through the dancing idiots and searched for golden blonde hair along with the black and red dress that Tsurugi had been wearing. If he knew his cousin- which he did -they would be somewhere near the center of the dance floor.
“You’re going to say that you're sick,” Felix explained as they walked, “and then I’ll say that I’m going to take you home. Once we’re both outside, we can part ways and actually enjoy our evening.”
“What?” Marinette blanched, tugging her wrist out of his grasp. “I’m not going to lie to Adrien!”
Felix turned around to argue when someone behind them bumped into Marinette’s back, accidentally pushing her forward. He grabbed her upper arm and pulled her up to steady her. The action brought her flush against his chest, but he was too focused on persuading her to mind the closeness.
“Don’t think of it as lying,” He said, “think of it as sparing his feelings. This way I can leave with Adrien thinking we had fun together. Would you rather I tell him that I’ve hated every second of being here?”
Marinette sighed. “Well, no-”
“Then it’s settled.” Felix replied, stepping away to bring her further into the crowd.
They found Adrien a few minutes later, and as expected, he was in the middle of the dance floor. Kagami was dancing with him, doing what looked to be a butchered version of the Tango. The two were laughing and snorting together, obviously drunk but having a good time. The sight only confirmed Felix’s belief that his presence wasn’t necessary.
Marinette started twisting her wrist in his hand again, but Felix ignored it as he pressed forward to approach the love-sick couple. If she didn’t want to get wrapped up in this, she shouldn’t have opened her mouth and forced him to come talk to Adrien before leaving.
“Adrien.” Felix called over the music, coming to a stop next to them.  
The two continued dancing, blissfully unaware of their presence.
“Adrien!” Felix tried again.
Finally, Adrien paused, looking up at them from where he’d just dipped Kagami. It took a moment for the blonde to recognize them, but once he did, he flashed them both a sloppy smile and pulled Kagami back up to talk.
“Hey, Felix!” His cousin beamed. “I haven’t seen you all night! Where have you been?”
“Sitting at the bar.” Felix replied shortly. He tugged Marinette forward, who appeared rather uncomfortable at being thrown into the spotlight. “Meeting new friends.”
Adrien lit up. “Marinette! Have you been with Felix this whole time? I knew you guys would get along great!”
Marinette offered a nervous smile, but Felix spoke before she could. No sense in letting her back out by telling Adrien that she’s having a good time or something.
“Yes, she’s a wonderful conversationalist,” He said, letting go of her wrist to put a hand on her shoulder. They needed to look casual. “But I’m afraid she’s feeling a tad out of sorts at the moment. So I’m going to take her home.”
Adrien’s grin dropped immediately, fading into concern. “You’re not feeling well?”
She faltered.  “Uhm- well-”
“It’s nothing serious.” Felix interrupted. “Just a small case of nausea. I’ve already called my driver to pick her up.”
Kagami stepped forward and placed a hand on Marinette’s forehead. “You don’t feel warm.. Are you sure you want to go home with Felix?”
“I assure you she-”
“I didn’t ask you, did I?” Kagami said sharply.
Felix narrowed his eyes. He should have known that Tsurugi would be his main obstacle. She didn’t confine herself to social etiquettes like carefully choosing one’s words in order to stay in the good graces of everyone around you. She wouldn’t hesitate to stop them if she thought Marinette didn’t want to leave with Felix. Therefore, he was going to need Marinette to confirm her desire to go, which meant she had to actively participate in this scheme. 
His gaze flicked to the ravenette, only to find her staring up at him already. She was chewing on her lip and clearly deciding what to do. Felix subtly tilted his head in her direction and raised his eyebrows. He didn’t beg for things often, but he refused to come this close to victory only for it to be ripped out from under him because somebody had a heightened conscience.
Of course, he couldn’t plead with her aloud, since Tsurugi was still burning holes into his head, but the way Marinette squirmed implied that she knew exactly what he was trying to say.
Please.
She let out a small sigh, and Felix crossed his fingers.
“..Yes.” She answered, giving Felix a rush of relief. “Yes, I want him to take me home.”
Tsurugi searched Marinette’s expression for a moment, probably looking for fear or uncertainty, before turning to Felix. She gave him another glare, one that promised death. “You better treat her properly while you have her. If I hear about anything-”
Felix rolled his eyes. He wasn’t some barbarian. “She’ll be fine. We’ll see you at the next photoshoot.”
“Text me when you guys get home!” Adrien called after them. 
Felix only gave a short nod over his shoulder before he started pushing Marinette back through the crowd. He was almost there. A few steps further, and this nightmare of a night would be over.
Felix pushed open the front door of the club and eagerly stepped outside. The cool, night air washed over him, and he drew in a deep, refreshing breath. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it was sitting in that crowd. 
“This is so wrong.” Marinette mumbled behind him. “I should have just told them the truth.”
Aaaand the moment is ruined. Felix thought with a mental sigh. He looked up to the starry skies for patience, since he still needed her to go through with this until his driver arrived. Honestly, how did a young adult such as herself get so twisted up about a little, white lie? Everyone’s done it at least once in their life, even Adrien.
“The less they know, the better.” He said. “Besides, by the time they’re done drinking, they won’t even remember our little fib.”
“But-”
“Look.” Felix cut her off, saving himself from the lecture. “We can either go inside and apologize for something they truly won’t care for.. Or we can start walking before Rossi realizes we’ve left and tries to come after us.”
Marinette’s expression soured at the mention of Lila, just like he knew it would, and she glanced back at the club.
“..Let’s get going.”
Felix followed behind her with a small, triumphant smile. Finally! He escaped that wretched place, and now he got to roam the Parisian streets instead, which was infinitely better, in his opinion. Of course, anything was better than that club- except something involving Rossi -but Parisian streets always held a certain enchantment to them. The roads were never too crowded, save for the occasional groups of tourists, and the lights lining the building casted a soft, golden glow on the pavement. Even the Eiffel Tower was covered in lights. 
Most importantly, though, Paris was quiet. Sure, there were car engines and snorting laughter, but it was faint, distant. Something he could easily ignore if he wanted. 
The setting was quite contrary to the usually dark and dreary city in which he lived, but he enjoyed the change. Strolling through a place like this helped him relax and unwind, which he desperately needed to do. Those interactions with Adrien and Lila had pushed him to his limit. 
“So what brings you to Paris?” Marinette asked curiously. “I heard you don’t visit often.”
Felix stared at the scenery a bit longer, before bringing his gaze back down to her. He didn’t necessarily feel like talking, but his ride would be there soon. He could indulge her for the moment as thanks. 
“I’m here on business for my father. I have to do a photoshoot with Adrien for extra publicity and attend some parties that are being thrown by some of our business partners.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun.” Marinette replied thoughtfully. “I’ve never been to a formal, business party.”
Felix heaved a sigh. “Pray that you never do. They are horribly bland, and anyone there is usually stuck too far up their rear end to have a decent conversation with.”
Marinette snorted at the comment. “They’re really that bad, huh?”
“Let’s just say that I would prefer going back to that bar as an employee than go to these business parties. At least there I can tell women to leave me alone. I swear they’ll latch onto you harder than a leach simply because they know that they can.”
A frown tugged at the corner of her lips, the previous humor of the topic slipping away as quickly as it came. “And you can’t do anything about it?”
Felix shook his head. “Not without being butchered by the press.”
“I think I’d rather be butchered..” Marinette muttered. He completely agreed. Unfortunately, snapping at the esteemed guests or possible daughter of a massive source of income for his father’s company is highly frowned upon, else Felix would have done so long ago.
“Can’t you get a consort?” She inquired. “If you had a date, that should keep the girls away, right?”
Felix almost laughed. “Escorts are normally used for pitiful old men who can’t get dates by themselves. An escort for myself would simply be foolish, and it would hardly deter any of the other women.”
Marinette hummed. She was thinking really hard about this, wasn’t she?
“Why don’t you ask one of your friends to pretend to be your girlfriend?” She suggested. “If they thought you were dating someone, it shouldn’t be nearly as frowned upon to reject the other women openly.”
Felix clicked his tongue. “A tempting thought, but there’s one flaw.”
“Which is?”
“I don’t have any friends.” He informed her. “None that I could ask to perform such a roll, that is.”
The only female friends he had were his mother and Allegra, and Allegra was about to be married to Claude. Any other acquaintances he had were co-workers. One can imagine how that conversation would go. 
“Excuse me, can you pretend to be my significant other because I wouldn’t actually want to date you in real life, but I need oxygen to live?” 
Not ideal. 
Aside from that, pretending to be in a relationship is something that can easily get out of hand. The position of power that his ‘girlfriend’ would be put in is not something Felix is willing to risk. She would be able to say anything about him, true or false, and the press would accept it as fact because they were ‘dating’. No thank you.
“Oh..” Marinette said softly. “I guess that does kind of ruin it, doesn’t it?”
“Indeed it does.” Felix agreed. “But if you get any more bright ideas, please, don’t hesitate to share. I’m all ears.” 
Marinette shot him a look, as though she might smack him for the remark, but instead she glanced back down at the sidewalk. 
Then she said something that forever changed the events of his visit.
“..What if I became your fake girlfriend?”
Felix nearly tripped over himself at the comment. He must have misheard her, right? No sane person would suggest that so casually. They were complete strangers, after all. How was he supposed to know if he could trust her? Better yet, would she be able to play the part if he did?
“I-It was just a thought!” She added hastily, noticing his baffled expression. “You don’t have to agree or anything. I just know how it is to be pushed into uncomfortable positions..”
Felix rose a brow. “While your.. generosity is appreciated, I don’t think you would be a good fit. You couldn’t even lie about being sick tonight without almost collapsing from guilt. What makes you think you can lie to an entire ballroom’s worth of people?”
Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line, her anxiety easily shifting to frustration. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes into a glare as she said, “I did not almost collapse, and that was different. I was lying to a close friend for a personal, selfish reason. This time I’d be lying to help you get away from gold diggers.”
Felix hummed. Yes, that made perfect sense. Forgive him for being ignorant about the fact that lying was somehow morally correct in one situation but condemning in another.
“So what’s in it for you?”
Marinette’s brows knitted together. “Oh.. uhm.. I just thought it would help you out, but.. I guess I could show off my designs? Working with Gabriel has been a good start, but if I wear them at the parties, maybe they’ll get more popular?”
Felix tilted his head back and forth as he assessed her answer. An exchange of peace for an exchange of popularity. He could work with that. “But are you sure you can pull it off? As I said before, the women there aren’t easily swayed. You might have to pull some scandalous stunts to dissuade them.”
Marinette scoffed and crossed her arms. “Please. You think I won’t get my hands dirty if I need to?”
Felix shrugged. “Again. You were the one who couldn’t lie about being sick.”
Marinette rolled her eyes. “You’re never going to let go of that now, are you?”
“Well, it is a bit telling of your nature.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment.” She retorted. “Anyway, how scandalous are we talking? I assumed holding hands was a given, and most likely side hugging too. Did you expect us to do something more intimate than that?”
Felix slowed his pace to a stop and looked at her. “Of course. That’s why I asked if you were prepared.”
Wariness began creeping into her expression. “Okay.. then how intimate do you plan on getting?”
“Well,” Felix began, taking a step towards her, “we need to look deeply in love at best. There might be some extremes that I’ll need you to play along with. Say, for example, the hugging isn’t convincing them.”
Felix stepped forward again, causing Marinette to take a step back. He followed her, step after step, until her back touched the brick wall of a closed flower shop.
“Everyone’s watching,” He continued, setting his arm against the wall next to her, “waiting to see what we’ll do to prove we’re legitimate. Would you be willing to do what it takes?”
A blush bloomed across her freckled cheeks, but she shot him a skeptical look despite. “I doubt they’d be rude enough to insist we kiss in order to prove our ‘relationship’.”
Felix smirked. “No, but it would be implied and whispered of. Those are the same as speaking aloud when it comes to business parties.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“And that’s a ‘no’.” Felix replied, pushing himself back up and away from her. He hadn’t expected her to do anything, but it was a tad disappointing knowing that he couldn’t use her idea. Having the women hovering around him instead of crushing him would have been nice-
Marinette grabbed the collar of his light blue, button-up shirt, stopping Felix in his tracks. She gave him a small glare, and before he could ask what she was doing or what she wanted, the ravenette yanked him downwards, crushing their lips together. 
Felix sucked in a breath, admittedly shocked, but he certainly didn’t pull away. No, he pulled her closer, cupping her cheek and deepening the kiss that she’d started. Marinette hummed slightly at the reciprocation and tilted her head to catch his lips fully. Her arms snaked up from his collar to around his neck, her dainty fingers raking through his hair. 
Felix let out a soft moan, but just as he was about to wrap his arm around her waist, Marinette broke the kiss. She put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him away, and met his gaze with lidded eyes.
Oh, if he thought her eyes were blues before..
“I’m not sure why we’d have to ‘prove ourselves’ like this,” She muttered, “but I think I’ve proven that I’m more than capable of pulling it off if necessary.”
Felix brushed his thumb over his lips, wiping away some of the ruby red lipstick that she’d left on him. 
“Mlle Marinette,”  He said, only just managing to keep from looking at her sweet, soft lips, now swollen slightly from the kiss, “I believe we have ourselves a deal.”
This fake relationship thing might work out, after all.
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darksiderssin · 4 years ago
Text
Keter Duty
This is gonna stay as a oneshot for now, I think. I want to make it longer and eventually make a more official looking entry like something off the SCP Wiki, but here we go. Tagging @imagine-darksiders because this was their idea. I promise there’s some semblance of a plot I’m cooking up for this, but it’ll be posted up on Ao3 if I write more.
“Enter the chamber, D-091337.”
You hated that voice on the P.A system- cold, clinical, uncaring. Just another Tuesday for these people, for you it could be your last day alive, like so many forced into the dens of the monsters they kept here, and it felt like you’d been marched to the gallows. You sighed- could be worse, you supposed. You could have been forced into the femur breaker, waiting for the unimaginable pain that heralded your impending death. You could have been put on 173 duty, having to rely on two other strangers in order to survive cleaning the mess that thing in there- you’d done it before and you never wanted to do that again. You took a breath to choke back the fear, only to have it knocked out of you as the butt of a rifle struck you between the shoulders, forcing you to stumble through the door as it slid open.
“If you turn around, you will be shot,” Says the gruff voice behind you. “Get in there, now.”
You wanted to give the man a nasty look as the door closed behind you, if you weren’t expecting your painful, bloody death. Your eyes were closed, still cringing from the developing bruise in your back as you hissed through your teeth, though you forced yourself to look up, deciding you wanted to at least see what was going to kill you, only to find four pairs of eyes from four different, humanlike individuals looking back at you- four very tall individuals, three of them male, and one female. One of the males, who was pale as a corpse and wore a skull-like mask, had a shaggy, mangy looking crow on his shoulder, that stared at you curiously with its beady little eyes, almost like it was judging whether or not you were a threat, much like the other individuals were doing as they watched you straighten up and press yourself against the door.
“A human?” One of the males piped up, this one wearing a silver helmet that only showed two amber eyes that looked you up and down, from your orange jumpsuit to the white sneakers to the dark circles under your eyes. He glanced to the others in the room, the fluorescent light glinting off the silver plated armour he wore. “Didn’t they say they were gonna send someone to talk to us?” Amazingly, their English was perfect, and the others responded in similarly perfect English.
It was the skull-masked male who spoke next, his wiry frame hunched in the way he sat, his eyes like smouldering embers. “No weapons,” He observed with a voice like a rattling sigh, a last word on a dying breath, and he glanced briefly to the panel of one-way glass before he spoke again. “What is your name, Human?” He almost sounded as if he was bored. You had taken a breath to reply, when the voice of one of the scientists gave you a warning over the P.A system.
“D-091337, you are not authorised to speak.” You froze, pressing yourself further against the door. “You are unauthorised to interact beyond the instructions we give you.”
The female, her dark lips pulled in a scowl, glared at the one-way glass with eyes like glowing moonstones. Despite the feeling of danger emanating off of her, she was beautiful, her olive skin smooth and unblemished, hair the colour of wine floating freely behind her. “They can talk when they decide to talk to us themselves,” She growled, the armour she wore clanking together as she shifted in her place leaning against the wall by the third male, a man built like a mountain who wore a red cloak around his shoulders- you couldn’t see his face past the massive pauldron on his shoulder. “I think we’ll decide who’s ‘worthy’. Now, answer my brother’s question.”
Well. The scientists wouldn’t like that. At first, it was hard to speak. You tried to say the first syllable, but your voice won't come because of your shock at what happened. Their eyes were all on you now. Eventually, you managed to croak it out, audible enough for them to hear. "(Y/N)...it's (Y/N)."
The skull-masked male nodded slowly. “Why have they sent you, Y/N?”
"I don't know." Your voice still croaked with nervousness and trembled as badly as your knees were. You'd seen other D-Class like you getting thrown to these monsters, and though you knew that some of them weren't bad, you knew that Keter classification sign outside the cell meant bad news. "Maybe to see if you'll turn my brain into mush, or eat me alive."
They all blink at you, then look at the one-way glass, then to each other, almost as if asking the same question. Finally, the helmeted male looked back at you, his voice sounding slightly disturbed at the suggestion. “Why would we do that?” He asked. “We said we weren’t here to kill any humans.”
"It's what these people do," You tell him. "They feed regular folks like us to monsters for their 'experiments'. Just to see what happens."
The skull-masked male hummed thoughtfully, pressing a hand to the one-way glass and pushing slightly to test how solid it was- you took some pleasure in imagining the scientists and soldiers shitting themselves at the sight. “Do they really think this is going to hold us?” He wasn’t really asking you, but you answered anyway.
"They say that you guys are Keter class. I think that means they think you're here to kill people." Usually the scientists said these things, and you swallowed a nervous lump in your throat as you mustered up the courage to ask, "...If you're not here to hurt humans, what are you here for?"
The female gave a derisive snort, the helmeted male choosing to answer instead. "We're just here for the monsters. Tall dark and sulky over there--" He jerked his chin in the direction of the other male with the skull mask. "He told us not to hurt anyone when we turned up to get the job done." The remark was met with a glance from the masked male, but not much else. Not much of a talker, you noted as you looked between them all, shuffling your feet awkwardly- they didn't seem like they were as much of a threat as the red sign outside the cell had made them out to be, if what they said was true. Maybe...
"D-091337. You are to leave the cell immediately. We're going to get someone to interview the subjects."
You jumped as the voice came over the P.A system, followed by the sound of heavy boots behind the door. You figured that meant they'd throw you back in your own cell and send in one of the scientists, but the skull-masked male stepped around you first and pushed you back with a large hand that paled against the bright orange of your jumpsuit as the door opened, causing the crow to squawk and flutter away, landing on your shoulder. The female dragged you further back by your arm, looking like she was ready to rip apart the guards as they levelled their rifles, but the skull-masked male was very calm.
"There's no need for those." He set his hand on the muzzle of one of the rifles and gently lowered it. "We've already made it clear that we're not here for you or your Foundation."
The guard shook his rifle away from under his hand, then raised it again. "Standard procedure," He remarked gruffly, then looked to you. "If you don't get over here now, we will shoot you."
The female didn't seem to like that, putting you behind her and reaching for something on her hip. The other two males looked ready to fight as well, slowly rising to their feet. "We'd prefer there be minimal conflict," The skull-masked male explained slowly, looking directly at the guard who had spoken. "We were in the middle of a conversation. It would be rude to shoot our guest."
"Not like you'd get a shot in anyway," The helmeted male added, and you swore you could sense a smirk behind the metal. "Fury's good with that whip, and your run of the mill bullets don't exactly work on us." That made the guards wary, a few of them looking between themselves as if reevaluating the situation. "Also," The helmeted male pulled a pistol, seemingly from out of nowhere, and held it up for the guards to see. "I'm a much better shot." You turned your eyes away from the door to look at the pistol, ornately engraved with beautiful spiralling patterns along the barrel.
Tension hangs heavy in the air, so thick you swear that the cliché of being able to cut it with a knife might actually be able to be proven if you tried. Eventually, one of the guard turns his head, one hand to his ear, and it takes a long moment before he motions to his fellows to stand down. “They’re sending in a researcher. The D-Class can stay.”
The helmeted male chuckled as the guards filed out and the door shut again, and he holstered the pistol. “Wise choice.” His eyes glance back at you. “You good?”
“Yeah.” You glanced at the door, then at the helmeted male. “Thanks.”
“What did they mean, ‘D-Class’?” Asked the skull-masked male as he turned to look at you, the crow fluttering off your shoulder and back onto his.
“It’s what they call us.” You shrugged and gave him a lopsided smile. “D-Class, D-Boys, the Disposables. Some of us are criminals, some are just folks down on their luck who were promised a hefty paycheck if they survive the month.”
“Criminals?” The helmeted male cocked his head. “What’d you do?”
You held up your hands defensively. “Nothing! I needed money!”
The tall individuals all look between each other again, their faces sharing an equal measure of concern, and you wish you could say you hated it. You’d never really known the things they kept here to care about humans, so why did they, when they were the dangerous ones? It almost seemed like an insult.
Eventually, it was the skull-masked male who spoke. “And all you have to do is...survive?” He asked, looking down at you with a gaze that made it seem that he was thinking about something.
“Well...yeah. I don’t think they’ll let me remember what I saw, though...” You sighed. “They...have ways of making people forget. And maybe that’s good. There’s nothing but nightmares down here.”
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sedated-love · 4 years ago
Text
ShigarakixReader smut
Tenth post of October!! 
TW- Piss, Noncon, Voyeurism
Hope you guys enjoy! If you like it, please take the time to reblog <3 It helps a ton! Also if you have any suggestions for what I write in the future, please feel free to leave them in my ask box!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Shit…”
You cursed softly under your breath as you made your way across the ball floor, noticing just how bad of a position that you were in. You were sent undercover to this villain’s ball as a spy to try and gather information, but you didn’t realize just how many villains there would be. The worst part is that everyone of them that you recognize, wants your head on a silver platter for tonight’s main course.
You were thankful it was a masked ball but the half mask covering your face didn’t stop you from feeling completely naked and vulnerable as you tried to weave your way through the dancing villains. You hadn’t even realized this sort of thing existed until you were sent as a pro hero to go and infiltrate it. A ball for villains to dance and dress up almost sounded fake after all but it very much wasn’t.
You would like to say you weren’t worried, but it felt like the smallest of wrong moves could get you killed and honestly it could. With the number of villains here, it wouldn’t take long for them to rip you to shreds limb by limb. Just the thought had you shivering as you grabbed a shot off the tray of a server walking past, not caring what kind of alcoholic beverage it was as you closed your eyes and shot it anyways, feeling the burn immediately settle in your chest. You were going to need it for tonight.
“Drinking already~?”
You practically jumped out of your skin when a voice you recognized appeared behind you and you slowly turned around to see Shigaraki…aka the man who probably wanted you dead the most here out of everyone. You choked down your anxiety to offer a smile, handing the shot glass away to the server before turning all of your attention to the villain who was easily recognizable as he used a muzzle as his mask of choice. How fitting. You always did think he seemed a little too feral to be without one.
“It’s never to early for a drink…”
You kept your voice steady, not liking the way the villain’s eyes were traveling your body since you couldn’t tell if he wanted to kill you or eat you. Either way you didn’t really like the outcome. “I suppose.” His eyes dragged their way back to yours and with the way he looked at you, you felt like you weren’t wearing a mask at all. You felt completely vulnerable and suddenly you wanted to dart the other way but that would completely blow you cover so instead you stood still in front of him, trying to keep yourself from looking too suspicious.
“Care for a dance, M’lady?”
He offered his hand which you noticed was gloved. A part of you was thankful as you had seen his quirk in action more times than you’d like to admit, and you weren’t looking to get disintegrated any time soon but you still didn’t reach to take his hand. “Well, actually, I was just about to get going so…” You went to turn on your heel as you politely declined his offer, knowing that dancing with your number one nemesis was about the worst thing that you could do.
After all, that made him about a million percent more likely to figure out your true identity and you weren’t desperate for your demise just yet. Though you were quick to freeze when you felt that gloved hand wrap around your wrist, forcing you to turn back to look at the villain. “I suggest you dance with me~” He spoke barely above a hushed whisper, which made him barely audible with the music in the background drowning everything out unless you concentrated hard.
His tone, despite being soft, told you that this was no suggestion. He was demanding that you take the floor with him but still you offered a tightly lipped smile, doing your best to not appear rude while still being firm. “I really do have to get going…” You looked down at your wrist where his grasp tightened to a point it was almost painful. You had to hold back a wince as those red eyes stayed focus on you, devouring you alive.
“I’m sure you have time for one more dance.”
He pulled you by your wrist against his chest with ease. His other hand, which was now painfully obvious to you wasn’t gloved like the other, rested against your lower back. His pinky being raised was the only thing keeping all of your particles in one piece. “Unless, of course, you want everyone here finding out who you are, hero~”
Your body tensed as you realized he knew exactly who you were already. You racked your brain for what must have given it away when he answered your question, leaning in close to your ear as he whispered. “I’d notice your frame anywhere…you think I haven’t memorized it by now?” A soft purr left his lips as his eyes wandered down your body, making you feel like you were completely naked despite wearing a decent amount of clothes. “Every measurement…every curve has been scanned into my brain. I could recognize you out on the street even if you were wearing a baggy hoodie and jeans just from the degree of the angle your jawline makes~”
He ran a gloved finger along the outline of your jaw, causing a shiver to go through your spine as you looked up at him with a horrified expression written all over your face. The expression just seemed to amuse him though as he offered you a smirk before dragging you towards the dance floor. “It’s time for that dance, M’lady~” He didn’t give you a chance to argue as you were pulled around in his grasp like a doll. Your hands were moved to rest on his shoulders as both of his held onto your waist besides the one pinky which hovered over your frame in almost a teasing manner.
“What is it that you want from me?”
You couldn’t help the question that had been wracking your brain as your bodies slowly began moving with the beat of the music. You were absolutely surrounded with no escape. The mass majority of people that wanted you dead were surrounding you while the one who wanted you the most had you right in the palm of his hands…literally. Now you just needed to figure out what he wanted, and you didn’t see the harm in asking. After all, he proved he already knows who you are and if he wanted you dead immediately, he could have killed you by now.
He proved that with the way he had his pinky carefully hovering over your hip. As if one wrong move and he would have you turned into nothing more than a pile of ashes at his feet. “It would be easier to ask what I don’t want from you…” His voice spoke softly as he seemed just as dangerous with the muzzle on. Like either way he would manage to bite you with the way he was looking down at you.
“I’m gonna make you mine.”
A shiver rolled its way down your spine with the way he said that and you wanted nothing more than to sock him in the face but you were pretty sure causing that much attention to yourself while you were surrounded by the countries most powerful villains wasn’t the smartest idea. He had you trapped right where he wanted you. “I’ll claim you right here in front of everyone~ You’ll be my own little hero pet~”
The unease that flowed through your body at the sound of that left you stiff. It took everything you had to keep your feet moving with the beat as you slow danced with the criminal. “You’re fucking sick, you know that?” You kept your voice hushed but you couldn’t help the disgust you felt. He wanted to claim you? What sort of sick nonsense was that? You weren’t some toy to be chosen in front of a room of toddlers but that’s exactly how he was treating it.
“I’ll show you just how sick, I can be.”
A sadistic look twisted on his face as he grabbed a handful of your hair, dragging you towards the center of the ballroom. You had to stumble behind him to struggle and keep your balance as he pulled you along with ease, an act that quickly grabbed everyone’s attention as you struggled against his tight grasp. You were promptly forced onto your knees as all of the villains in the room made a circle around you and the music cut. All eyes were on you.
“Now that I have everyone’s attention!”
Shigaraki yanked off the mask that was the only thing keeping your identity hidden, disintegrating it in his grasp as you heard the hushed whispers of all of the villains surrounding you. This wasn’t good. “I’ve seemed to find a little spy amongst our numbers tonight~” The man standing above you kept you held down with his hand place firming on your head, his index barely lifted off as he spoke proudly to everyone around you.
You could feel all of the eyes digging into you, ripping you apart already as if the only thing holding them back was Shigaraki. You didn’t know whether you were grateful or just wanted them to get it over with already. “I’m going to claim her as mine!” The cheers that filled the room pounded into your core. It was like everyone knew exactly what that phrase entailed besides you. Though you were going to find out very soon.
Using his clothed hand, he undid his pants, pushing them down along with his boxers until his hard member popped free and pressed directly against your face with where he was holding your head. You wanted to jerk back in disgust but doing that would have that index finger pushed down faster than you could pull away.
You were completely stuck there, with his cock in your face, in front of everyone. “Be a good little hero and fix my problem~” Shigaraki used his index finger and thumb to press against either side of your cheeks until your jaw was forcibly opened, not waiting another moment before he shoved his cock down the back of your throat. “Bite and you’ll end up a dust bunny~” He tightened his grasp on the top of your head as if proving his point as he started roughly thrusting his hips, not seeming to give a care in the world that everyone was watching the two of you.
If anything, it seemed to make him all the more excited as he throbbed against the back of your throat. He didn’t bother being gentle as he started using your throat like a flesh light, pounding roughly against your face with no care in the world of how you gagged under the rough treatment. You had to force yourself to concentrate on breathing through your nose as the thick cock pushed its way down the back of your throat with every thrust. His rough grip on your head giving you no wiggle room as all you could do was sit obediently on the floor in front of everyone and suck on your worst enemies’ cock.
You gagged with every thrust, tears starting to stream down your cheeks as he used your throat as he pleased. You felt dirty and used as the villain effectively claimed you as his own, but little did you know that he wasn’t finished. His thrusts got sloppy as he approached his orgasm and he gave you no time to prepare before he shoved your head all the way down on his cock, cumming deep in the back of your throat and forcing you to swallow every ounce of his cum.
A groan left his lips as he looked down at you, pumping your throat full as he took in how completely wrecked you were underneath him. The tears streaming down your cheeks doing even more for his ego as he rocked his hips through his orgasm, only pulling out once he had become completely soft against your lips.
You coughed softly, your throat feeling sore from being used so ruthlessly and your face was a wreck as a mixture of drool and cum slid down your chin. Your cheeks burned hot with embarrassment and you wanted nothing more than to hide away completely, already brought to shame just from being forced to do something so lewd in front of everyone you hated…but being embarrassed wasn’t enough for Shigaraki.
He wanted to make you feel so ashamed that you wouldn’t have the dignity to ever come back from it. Which is exactly why he grabbed you by the back of your head, shoving his flaccid dick against the back of your mouth before using his other hand to pinch your nose. “Drink.” He gave you no other warning before he started releasing his warm piss down the back of your throat, letting out a soft sigh of relief as he released himself in your body.
You felt your entire face burning with shame as you had no choice but to drink his warm liquid, closing your eyes as you took all that he had to give to you, feeling absolutely filthy as he emptied himself inside of you in front of everyone. “Good girl~” He waited until he was completely done to uncover your nose and pull himself completely from your mouth, grabbing you by the front of your clothes just to pull you closer to his face as he leaned down until your lips were almost touching.
“The shame that you feel right now ties you to me. Don’t forget it~”
He placed a soft kiss to your lips before letting you drop completely, turning to look at the villains who were all watching your limp body. “The girl belongs to me now. Anyone who lays a finger on her…” He grabbed the face of a random person standing behind him in the outline of the circle, watching as he disintegrated to dust at his feet. “Will suffer a similar fate~”
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cheeriecherry · 4 years ago
Text
Space Between [Aizawa Shouta x F!Reader x Yamada Hizashi] [3/9]
EraserMic x Reader
Part 2/9 (Planning has added another part)
Warnings: panic attacks, reader being a little awkward
A week passes in the blink of an eye. You’ve tried to keep busy while your friends are away at work, but you can only clean the house so many times before it becomes monotonous. 
You’ve also checked out a few apartments that are renting, but every single one you’ve visited so far has left you disappointed: too small, in the wrong neighborhood, no yard, wrong vibe. A little piece of you knows you’re making excuses to stay with Shouta and Hizashi longer, but you can’t help that you want your new place to fit your needs perfectly.
In the same breath, you’ve also done what you promised you would, and looked into a few of the resources Shouta provided you with, for counseling and therapy services. You thought it would be easy enough, check out the websites, set up an appointment, etcetera etcetera, but the moment you open one of the tabs your throat closes up.
You’ve been trying for three days to look through everything, trying to push through your discomfort and underlying panic, but so far the only thing it’s done is make you tired and cranky and stressed.
You close the laptop for the fourth day in a row, having spent the last half hour reading through yet another counseling site. Maybe it’s your anxiety, maybe it’s your fear of admitting you’re struggling, maybe it’s because you know you’ll have to talk about things you really don’t want to talk about...but none of these places feel like the right fit. Just like the apartments.
You glance at the clock on the wall, sighing deeply when you find that it’s barely past noon. 
Maybe you should get out, go for a walk or something? You don’t have very many clothes, so maybe you could go to the mall. Shop around a bit, get something to eat. Treat yourself.
It’s a good idea, you decide, and you need the fresh air.
----
When you walk into the mall, you instantly wish you’d stayed home.
It’s busy, and uncomfortably so. Elderly folks meeting up, parents pushing strollers with small children, a couple of highschool kids ditching class.
Surely no one would pay you any mind if you just turned around and walked right back out?
No, you think, taking a deep breath, I can do this. It’s just people.
You try to walk normally, and look like you’re not wincing at every step you take further into the crowd. It’s just people.
...People I can’t protect.
The thought pops into your mind faster than you can catch it, and your gait stutters. You push it away and keep walking, but it’s as if the psychological floodgates have been opened.
A villain could attack right now, and I wouldn’t do anything.
Your chest tightens.
I’m a useless excuse for a hero.
Your hands start shaking.
I would just stand there and watch them die. Just like-
You squeeze your eyes shut, and beeline to the nearest bench, sitting down to try and take a few calming breaths. 
It starts to work, and you can feel your body relaxing slightly, until an elderly woman decides to take up the seat next to you. Your skin buzzes with electricity, hyper-aware of her presence beside you. When you glance over at her, you find that she’s smiling kindly at you.
“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, reaching out to rest a dainty hand on your knee. 
You resist the guttural urge to snap away from her. She’s just checking on you, you tell yourself, don’t be rude.
“I’m- yes. I’m okay,” you say with a shaky voice, “Thank you.” You can tell she doesn’t quite believe it, and you don’t blame her. You probably look a mess, a trembling, blanched, wide-eyed mess.
You track her movement as she reaches into the purse tucked under her arm, expecting something, anything, any kind of threat to appear, but she only pulls out a small red lollipop. She offers it to you with a wrinkled hand, gently pressing it into your palm.
“A distraction, perhaps?” she suggests, “Sweets always make me feel better.”
You thank her quietly and unwrap the treat, sticking it in your cheek. You try to focus on the overwhelming flavour, the sickly sweet synthetic cherry, the way it burns against your tongue.
Another woman calls out to the lady beside you, who squeezes your knee softly. “I hope you feel better soon, dear,” she says, standing. “Have a lovely afternoon.”
You smile and nod at her, and the moment she’s out of sight you spit the candy out and bolt towards the exit.
----
You finally stop running about a block away from the mall, heart beating erratically and chest so tight you can barely breathe. You find a nearby empty bench and fall onto it, and let your head hang low. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, and your vision is blurry, and it doesn’t help the threat of oncoming nausea.
Thankfully now that you’re out in the open, you begin to calm down again. You wipe at your eyes to rid yourself of your tears, and try to focus on the feeling of the bench pressing into your legs. Warm from the sun against your skin, sturdy and unwavering metal slats holding you steady, slight tremor when someone sits down next to you…
Not again, you think, shrinking away from the person.
“Rough day?” they ask. You eye them cautiously, taking note of every detail.
You can’t tell if they’re a boy or a girl, not that it really matters to you. They’re young, maybe sixteen, clad in dark baggy clothes. Their posture is casual, comfortable, hands shoved in pockets, and they don’t look old enough to have graduated school. You wonder if they’re skipping class, but you don’t really care.
“Yeah,” you mumble, “Something like that.”
The kid turns towards you, slinging an arm over the back of the bench.
“That’s too bad,” they say, genuinity unsettling you, “Nice lady like you shouldn’t be lookin’ so sad.”
Your stomach roils with anxiety, and you’re sure your blood pressure has skyrocketed again. “I’m sorry,” you say quickly, standing, “I’m not really in the mood to talk. I’m...I’m gonna go-”
A slender hand shoots out and grabs your wrist, holding you in place.
“Wait, please! I’ve been looking for you for days-”
Pain shoots up your arm, and you glare down at the teen, fury overtaking your mind. “Let go of me before I rip your fucking arm off.”
“Please, let me explain-”
You rip your arm out of their grip, and take a few weak steps backwards. “If you’ve been looking for me, then you know who I am, and you know what I’ve done. Don’t think I’ll hesitate to break you into pieces if you come near me again.”
The kid stares at you with wide honey-brown eyes, an inkling of fear flashing behind them.
Good.
You waste no time turning around to run back home, leaving your assailant behind.
----
Ten o’clock finds Shouta and Hizashi walking through the front door, the latter talking animatedly about something you couldn’t quite hear. 
You stir the ladle around the pot a few times, judging the thickness of the stew you’re preparing, while you listen to them chatter back and forth. A sad smile graces your features, and you wonder if this is the way they usually come home; tired, but always happy to have each other.
“Something smells really good in here!”
You crane your head to the doorway right as Hizashi traipses in. He zeroes in on you in an instant, coming over to wrap you in a tight hug. It surprises you, even though it shouldn’t. In years past, he was always the most open with physical affection, often greeting you and Shouta with touches and hugs and kisses on the cheek.
“You guys are right on time,” you say, reaching across the stove to flip the burner off, “Dinner’s ready.”
Hizashi makes haste in preparing a bowl for himself, dashing out to the dining room to find a seat. You shake your head and fix some stew for yourself and Shouta, following in suit shortly after. The two of them are already set up around the table, making smalltalk with each other while they wait for you.
Shouta thanks you when you set his bowl down in front of him, but waits until you sit to start eating.
“So how were your days?” you ask, stirring your meal absently, “Did anything interesting happen?”
Hizashi shrugs, and doesn’t even bother to swallow before answering. “Not really. Between teaching and hosting a radio show, it actually gets pretty repetitive.”
You have a hard time believing that. Before you’d left, his stories about his students and his shows were endless and hilarious, and he’d talk about them for hours on end if you let him.
“What about patrol?”
“Eh, same same. Stopped a couple small timers, you know, convenience store robbery, purse theft, that kind of thing. Nothing big.”
You nod. “I’d consider that a win. Smaller villains means smaller paperwork…” 
The three of you break into an uneasy silence, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You eat your meal slowly, and avoid looking at either of them. Something was on their minds, and you had a feeling you knew what it was, but if you didn’t look at either of them then maybe they wouldn’t ask you…
Finally, Shouta sighs. “This is idiotic.”
“Sho,” Hizashi hisses, but doesn’t get much else out.
“There was something we needed to talk to you about, but you seem like you’ve had some kind of day. It might be easier to talk about it later.”
You think back to your eventful afternoon filled with panic attacks, and mask the worry with a smile. “It wasn’t too bad,” you assure them, “Besides, you’ve got me curious, now. Spit it out!”
Shouta sets his spoon down. “I was wondering if you’d consider being a guest speaker for the first year hero classes at Yuuei. They need to learn about all the possibilities of hero work, including undercover missions.”
“And I figured that since you’re here now,” Hizashi interrupts, “you’d be a perfect candidate!” 
You’re surprised, to say the least, and it’s obvious. 
“Take some time to think about it. You’ve got a couple weeks, still, so you don’t need to decide right away.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You’re grateful for the buffering period, because as much as you’d love to say yes to them, you’re not sure if you could handle speaking in front of a bunch of teens. Especially if your afternoon was any indication of your coping abilities.
What would you even talk about? Would you have to prepare a presentation? A speech? Or would they simply ask you questions? And god, how would you answer said questions? How could you tell a bunch of young hopefuls that undercover missions are almost always riddled with violence and PTSD?
You take another bite of stew. “I’ll...consider it.”
----
The rest of the dinner is more comfortable, filled with idle conversation and a couple of old jokes. It’s nothing compared to how the three of you used to be, and a little piece of you wonders if you’ve done something to upset the balance the two of them had created together.
Of course I have, you think, I showed up after disappearing for years and now I’m taking up their couch.
Still, there seems to be something more, some kind of tension beyond the stresses of recent events. Maybe it just felt different because you were different, more closed off to the world, to people, but it’s not like you could help it.
You couldn’t bear to lose either of them, if they were to find out what really happened on your mission. The things you saw, the things you did.
You could foot a little bit of awkwardness if it meant you would get to keep them in your life.
The three of you bid goodnight after you eat, each of you tired after a long day. You know for a fact that you won’t be able to sleep yet, not without nightmares, but you dim the lights anyways to keep your friends from questioning you.
You get comfortable on the couch and pull Shouta’s laptop over, flipping the screen open to continue your search about counseling services. You’ve gone through every suggestion on his list, save for one.
And so far, as you scroll through their website, it seems to be okay. The staff members and doctors seem to be knowledgeable, and the numerous patient reviews praise them for their compassion, kindness, reasonable prices, and short wait list.
You scroll around a little more, picking out whatever contact information is available. Most of it is done through email, it seems, which you’re fine with.
You open a new email document and start typing, asking what kind of information you need to provide and how the process works, and what steps you need to take in order to get a consultation appointment.
You don’t expect an answer until tomorrow, so you’re pleasantly surprised when a reply pops into your inbox not five minutes later.
‘Hello, Miss Y/N,’ it reads, ‘Thank you for contacting us. I’m Nurse Yumi, a member of the practising night staff. It’s a big step to seek help when you’re struggling, so we appreciate you reaching out to us. If you’d like, we can set up a consultation appointment for tomorrow afternoon. I’ve attached the preliminary forms to fill out before your visit, if you could please have them completed before then. If this is agreeable for you, let me know and I'll give you the time and date.
Well wishes,
Nurse Practitioner Yumi.’
You quickly type up another email, thanking them for their quick notification as well as confirming your availability. 
You set a reminder in your phone before you lay down so you don’t forget about it, and shut down the laptop, placing it back on the coffee table. You’re not quite ready to sleep yet, but you know if you stay up any later then it’ll be harder to wake up on time.
Begrudgingly, you curl up on your side and try to think about nothing as you doze off.
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brideofcthulhu10 · 4 years ago
Note
How would the Lost boys react to having a motherly type of s/o?
OH MY GOD I DIDN'T KNOW TUMBLR POSTED THIS UNFINISHED! UGH STUPID APP! Okay, redo!
Cuuute. The boys could certainly use a motherly touch around, even Max had said that when he wanted to turn Lucy. For this I am gonna be writing a female s/o, if you ever want otherwise always be sure to specify ahead of time otherwise DM me and I’ll be sure to correct it. I love the idea one behind the scenes with the boys, after the late night partying and wild blood orgies. I mean, let's be realistic here- those guys probably smell like cigarettes and ass. That cave is no doubt absolutely filthy as hell, and I don’t think they’ve cleaned up a day of their afterlife. 
Lost Boys with a Motherly Fem!S/O
David
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Now David isn’t exactly the type to be told what to do in almost any scenario. Well, almost. But even then he still prefers the majority of the control. It’s going to be a challenge to get anything done with him. Any sort of lectures or advice tend to fall on deaf ears simply because he and the boys have taken care of themselves for so long. Your best method of choice? STEALTH
I’m serious, you gotta be sneaky with this boy. He’ll wake up to you cleaning the hotel because you had assumed it was still daylight, or sweeping around when they go on hunts. Don’t fuck with the cobwebs, its an aesthetically pleasing decoration! Frankly, he’s just a brat who doesn’t like change. It’s gotten to the point however, where he can’t exactly stop you so he just decides to be a butt about it. Take-out trash litter the hotel lobby, he’ll even leave out half-full open containers and try to get some real maggots up in there. Not if you have anything to say about it! Sometimes he wonders how you can keep it as clean as you do.
You have no idea how absolutely rank a pack of teenage vampires can be. Especially with unwashed clothes. Seriously, David and Paul’s boots could make rats gag, the stank of unwashed vamp toes is gnarly. That can be a bit of a fight. Well someone has to get all those bloodstains out! What do you think they just vanished the next day? None of the boys want clean clothes, especially David. According to them you can't be badass vampires and have fresh pants. He’ll even hide his jacket from you on laundry day. How is he supposed to instill fear in the hearts of mortals when his jacket smells like FUCKING LAVENDER?
God help you if you try to make him bathe. The only way he’d concede is if you really went all out. Play to his ego, its the best way to get him to cooperate. After all, what man doesn’t want to be a king for a day. Especially one such as David. Once you finally, FINALLY get him in, then it's a fight to get him out. He’ll let off soft grunts when you massage shampoo through his scalp, leaning his head back with low, grumbling moans. Sometimes he’ll have you join him, even if you aren’t undressed. Yeah, he doesn’t care if you have your clothes on, time to get in. It's hotter when he sees your shirt tightly clinging to your bodice, although he'll huff that you had a bra underneath. If you try to peel off the soggy articles he won't let you. After all, if you got to strip him down, he gets to do the same to you. He'll take his time, and keep in mind the water isn't about to be clean for much longer.
Despite his protests, and he’d never admit it to the rest of the pack, but he really does love having someone caring for him. Being spoiled by his lover has some advantages, especially after a stressful day. Just laying back, having you rub his shoulders for a good minute, maybe suggesting he come over to your apartment and let you cook him a real meal for once. Sure you’ll be telling him how he needs to be more careful when he goes on hunts, but he can handle that much. You’re his precious doll, if it means a few lectures from you then he’ll put up with it. 
Dwayne
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Dwayne is kind of the silent brother bear of the group so it’s a relief when he has someone who wants to take care of him. It makes him chuckle when you fret over him. Honey, he can fly, he’s not going to fall off the roof. Even if he did, it wouldn’t kill him! He’s lost count how many times you subtly, or not so subtly, toss around the subject of a helmet when he rides around. You’ll even try using persuasive ideas such as having it custom painted, maybe adding some spikes- anything just wear a stupid helmet! Again, he reminds you the threat of cracking his head open wasn’t exactly that daunting
When you’re on a cleaning spree he tends to stay out of your way. Granted he tried to help once, but you immediately shooed him out. You got it, just go sit down and quit futzing with stuff. On laundry day he’s a bit stubborn, but as long as you don’t wash his leather jacket, he’ll be fine. Seriously, do not touch his jacket. He cannot stress enough how bad it is to try and use water and soap to clean a leather jacket. NO. No touchy! So he’ll just sit in his underwear (personally I think it’d be boxer briefs) on the couch clinging to his jacket while you go off to the laundromat a few blocks over. Eventually you bought him lounge pajama pants for when you do laundry trips. At first he didn’t want to but… well they have a badass puma on them. It’d be rude to not wear it if you went through all that trouble to get that for him.
Unlike the other three, Dwayne doesn’t need much bribery to get in the tub. DO you have ANY IDEA the last time he had a god damn shower? He misses it, he doesn’t exactly like smelling like parfum de cul (kudos to any of you who know what that means ;) ). Oh just watch him sink into the tub as you massage his luxurious mess of dark hair, you swear sometimes he audibly purrs when you do. Its one of the few times Dwayne will let himself be completely vulnerable. He won’t necessarily force you to join him, but he would certainly love it you have your cute butt nestled between his legs where he could lather you up. But, I mean, that’s entirely up to you to refuse your ripped, completely naked boyfriend eyeing you up.
When he gets injured or sick, which you never expected that he could, you immediately go into hyperdrive. While he’d rather be out riding with the guys, he can’t help but love being pampered by his princess who always treats him like a king. You’ll shove him into Star’s old bed and demand he stay put, wiping his forehead down with a cold cloth. One would assume that someone with no body heat left would get a fever. Actually, it makes it worse. He won’t DIE from any illness, but it sure does suck when he gets them. Usually a few feedings will heal him up within a day, so you’ve started smuggling bags from blood drives and keeping them in a little cooler for him. Granted you only get him A or B blood, but he still appreciates all the effort you go to just for him. 
Paul
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Paul loves it up until you make him do things he doesn’t want to. Typical guy. He DIED in a freaking bath tub, why the hell would you want to put him back in one?! It would take either a serious amount of strength or bribing to get him into one.
“It doesn't even have holy water Paul, just normal, plain, stupid water! You smell like a rat’s ass, will you please just get in?”
“I’d rather smell like ass!”
Yes, he may even try to bolt out of the room buck naked. Fuck you, try to catch him now! Did you hide his clothes?!
Your best bet is to play to his most vulnerable side: horny. Sure he refuses to get in the bath on his own, but add you naked covered in bubbles and it just became the best place to be. The blonde won’t even sulk when you’re sudsing up his hair because you’re too distracted to notice he’s about to cop a feel. He’ll just laugh like an idiot when you get mad, after all you put him in here in the first place. There will probably be tub sex, because dammit he deserves something for being such a good boy. Surprisingly he actually loves it when you use the hair dryer on him. It feels amazing, he doesn’t exactly get warm anymore so the sensation of heat rushing through freshly cleaned hair is just incredible
Paul is not a fan of laundry day, just like David. Again, you gotta chase him down. He’ll tease you the whole time though. 
“Babe if you wanted to just rip my clothes off me all you had to do was ask.”
You only leave him in his underwear because he doesn’t have anything else to change into. You never realized how much of a pain in the ass white pants were until you met him. Why the hell did he even have white pants in the first place? They show every damn stain! Paul will probably come with you to the laundromat. Its three in the morning, who cares if someone sees him in his boxers? Big deal! He’d even offer to go nude. You managed to find a pair of pajama pants and a band t-shirt he could wear on laundry day because this ass refuses to buy any other clothes. 
Paul thinks it’s absolutely adorable the way you dote on him. It’s a pain in the butt, but nothing is better than the tiny notes you leave for him when you go out. Or when you surprise the coven with a bunch of tupperware dishes full of real home cooked meals. Yeah being ragged on half the day is never fun but he knows that the only reason you do that is you care so much for him. You almost died when you thought he’d been killed, it was fair you got a bit over protective after. Besides, you were still his ride or die baby who did anything for him. Hell, last Valentine’s day you even went all around Santa Carla until you found someone who made him a mother fuckin Gene Simmons teddy bear, with the tongue out and everything. Paul loves you, nags and all
Marko
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Probably one of the only boys to be a bit more cooperative when it comes to mothering him. After all, he’s the one being spoiled. It’s precious when you fret over him on a hunt out, warning him to avoid any hunters, fly safe, please don’t jump off any bridges. He’ll just hug you tight and assure you he’s gonna be fine. Yeah you’ll go one about how he should have a helmet when riding or raising concern when he tries something of questionable origin from the boardwalk vendors. But most of the time he just kind of tunes you out and smiles until you’re done.
He’s a sneaky boy, you oughta know that by now. You want him to take a bath? Only if you join him. You want to brush his hair out? Sure he’ll sit still… for ten kisses. Laundry day? Fine but he gets to come with. It’s hard not to laugh at him crouched up on the top of a dryer with his knees to his chest in only his underwear watching you throw in his pants and socks. He can’t help but grin when you throw him a side eye because of the stains all over his white shirt. Sheesh, him and Paul with the white clothes.  Again, please please PLEASE don’t wash his jacket. You will ruin it. He doesn’t care if you bombard it with air freshener until his sorry ass smells like Hawaiian Breeze, but do not ever wash it
It’s adorable the lengths you’ll go to for him. Last year when he told you they were just gonna have some hot wings and beers for Thanksgiving you flipped. Next thing they know you had them come over to your apartment as soon as the sun went down to a full spread. Paul actually ended up hugging you too. It looked like something out of a catalog. Two fatass turkeys filled to the brim with homemade stuffing, easily four pounds of mashed potatoes, gravy, bread rolls, the whole fucking thing! And veggies. Nasty. Sure the corn on the cob was bitchin, but asparagus? NO. Yeah you made Marko put some on his plate and half the time he just kept pushing his peas around until Paul flung one at him. Then it was a silent veggie war. After that they pretty much came over for any holiday. He’d be all over you just gushing over how happy he is that you went through so much hard work for him, for them. Even Max did fuckall besides what he had to, the guy wanted to toot his own horn about dad of the year but sucked ass at it. 
They start coming over so often that you bought black out curtains for every window in your house. Even during the day they could sleep in your guest room without fear of the sun. Well, the guys could. You had him tucked into your own room, still sleeping with his feet to the headboard for that upside down sense and his arms tightly pressed to his chest. He absolutely loves how much you care for him, especially after so many decades of being a filthy biker boy who feasted on the living. Even his vampirism didn’t send you away. You’d even keep a mini fridge in your room stocked with blood bags in case he craved a midday snack. Sometimes he’d awaken to you sleeping beside him and just savor those quiet moments with his baby. Maybe for Christmas this year he’d offer you the best gift he could think of. Who needs a wedding ring when you can offer an eternity with your angel instead? 
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dilly-oh · 4 years ago
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Sleep With Me
Kakashi is woken up from a dead sleep at three in the morning by an urgent text from Genma. 
EMERGENCY!!, it says. He quickly sits up, a spike of panic shocking him fully awake as he’s dosed with adrenaline. He stares at his phone, anxiously waiting for the flashing dots to spell out: WE NEED CONDOMS, STAT!
Fucking Genma. He lies back down. 
Another text. YOU OWE ME FOR WATCHING THE DOGS.
...Fucking Genma. Kakashi gets up.
GET A BOX OF CONDOMS, Genma adds as Kakashi tugs on his boots. He shudders at the reasoning behind it. What the hell were he and Raido up to at three in the fucking morning, a sex marathon? Were they trying for the world record? Whatever, he just needs to stumble down the street to one of the nearby convenience stores and buy a box of condoms. Genma lives a few floors down so he can drop them off at the door before crawling back up the stairs and collapsing into his bed. His wonderfully soft, cozy bed.
He hopes it’ll still be warm by the time he gets back. 
It’s way past midnight and all the respectable convenience stores are closed, so Kakashi has to bite the bullet and settle on the least-skuzzy of all the skuzzy 24-hour shops, the one on the corner with the cracked window and perpetual smell of urine. There’s a hobo by the dumpster outside, but he’s busy arguing with a pigeon so Kakashi is able to sidle around him and approach the front entrance, a bell tinkling rather sadly above his head. The hum of the fluorescent lights should be added to the list of known torture methods, and Kakashi does his best to ignore the incessant buzz as he walks along the poorly-lit aisles, trying to find the item in question so he can leave before he catches something.
The condom section of this store is disturbingly well-stocked, and Kakashi spends a good five minutes uncertain on which brand and variety to buy. He has an internal debate on whether to buy ‘ribbed’ or ‘studded’, unsure of the difference or which Raido would prefer. He finally settles on one of the flavored variety, cherry, because who doesn’t like cherries, right? He grabs the box and heads to the front.
Standing in line with the other half-awake zombies, Kakashi yawns, his jaw creaking spectacularly. It really is late and he’s looking forward to kicking down Genma’s door, whipping the box of condoms at him, turning his phone off, and going the fuck back to sleep. He peeks impatiently over the shoulder of the man in front of him to see how close he is to the register-
Oh. God. Oh GOD.
The cashier is hot. He’s smoking hot and Kakashi hasn’t brushed his hair all day and has bad breath and bags under his eyes and a box of condoms in his hands.
OH GOD.
Long, luscious hair pulled back into a low ponytail, dark eyes with even darker lashes, and that TAN. Is it natural? Is he that toasty…all over? Fuck, he can see muscles flexing beneath his shirt when he moves, he’s fucking ripped. Abort. ABORT. There is absolutely no way Kakashi is going to greet this ethereal being of his wicked fantasies with a box of fucking condoms in his hands. But it’s already too late, the customer in front has been dealt with and the hot cashier has spotted him next in line and is waving him over, fuck, SHIT, he’s screwed. He’s made eye contact, there’s no backing out of this now. Fight or flight instincts take over, and Kakashi isn’t about to be arrested for stealing a box of condoms. Taking a deep breath, he strides forward with all the confidence he can muster and slaps the box of jumbo-sized, cherry-flavored condoms onto the counter, refusing to show any hint of shame.
The cashier (his name-tag reads ‘Iruka’ and is a million times hotter up close) looks down at the box, blinks, and looks back up at him.
“…So who are you buying these for?”
Kakashi’s brain shorts out for a moment.
Did he just… He wonders, his sleep-deprived brain slow in catching the veiled insult. Aloud, he answers, “I…they…they’re…for me. To wear when I- you know. With...you know.” He trails off lamely, wondering if he should attempt to elaborate more or just die right here.
“I’d rather not, actually.” ‘Iruka’ eyes him for another beat, then picks up the box, frowning at it. “You know, I’m pretty sure we have extra small on the shelf back there, too,” he suggests. “Might be a snugger fit.”
“No, thank you,” Kakashi replies, struggling to maintain a modicum of politeness. Because, you know, hot cashier. Though he is being a bit of a dick.
“Alright, just remember there’s a thirty-day return policy. I’m sure you’ll be needing it.”
Okay, scratch that. He’s being a huge dick.
If this guy wasn’t such a fox I’d pop him one, Kakashi thinks to himself, fuming inwardly. …Instead of popping one-
Finally moving on, Iruka swipes the box over the scanner with no reaction.
“Huh.” He frowns and tries again. Still no beep. “That’s funny. Just a sec.” He leans over towards a small, black object-
Oh God. Please no.
“PRICE CHECK ON THE JUMBO-SIZED CONDOMS,” Iruka says into the microphone, his distorted voice blaring through the store for all to hear. “CHERRY FLAVORED-”
Kakashi lunges forward and grabs the mic, the feed cutting off with a high-pitched squeal.
“Do you really have to-” he hisses out.
“If you want your cough-syrup flavored DICK, YES,” Iruka hisses back, yanking the microphone away from him.
“Hey, I like cherry!”
“Cherry is disgusting. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”
“Okay, dude, you’re being really rude to me for no reason-”
“No reason?!” The cashier all but bares his teeth at him. “I could feel you eyeing me from across the store! Don’t you think I get enough of that from the rest of the creeps?”
...He has a point there. 
“Look, I’m sorry, it’s not like I asked for your number-”
“Good, because the only numbers you’re getting from me is on your receipt,” Iruka snaps, shoving his purchase in a plastic bag. “That’ll be $19.86.”
“Okay, fine, Christ,” Kakashi takes out a twenty and whips it at his head. “Keep the change.” He snatches up the condoms and storms out of the store. The hobo is still there by the dumpster, babbling on. Kakashi stops, fishes in his pocket for a moment, and hands the man a five.
“Here, have a better night than me,” he bites out. The hobo gasps with delight as he takes the crumpled bill, eyes going wide.
“We feast tonight, Fitzgerald!” he cackles, grinning at the pigeon, which is now perched on his knee and cooing.
Kakashi starts down the street, the bag of condoms bumping against his knee with every angry stride.
“Hey!” A voice barks out from behind him, but he ignores it, intent on sulking. “Hey, you! Cherry dick!” Kakashi stops and looks back.
The hot cashier is running down the road after him, breath steaming in the night. He catches up, panting lightly, his cheeks flushed from the cold as much as the run. He glances up to meet Kakashi’s gaze. 
“…Hey,” Iruka says quietly, flashing him an apologetic look before dropping his eyes to the ground. “Um.” He fiddles with the zipper on his jacket for a moment. “I just got off, and… look, man, I’m sorry about back there. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. It’s just…I was late this morning cuz my car wouldn’t start, and then my stupid co-worker ditched me so I had to work a double shift, and when I’m tired I get bitchy. Like...real bitchy. I’m...really sorry.” He groans in exhaustion, reaching up to free his hair from its constricting ponytail, scrubbing his scalp with relief. It’s an endearing action that cools Kakashi’s irritation and heats up other things. “I mean, it’s past midnight, for God’s sake. Who’s still up at this hour? I just wanna go home and pass the fuck out in bed.”
Kakashi knows exactly what that’s like.
“I’ve been there,” he says. “It’s fine. Sorry for...ogling you.”
“S’okay.” Iruka looks up at him, hopeful and shy. “Listen. Maybe we could…try this again? During the daytime, when we’re both fully rested?”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Kakashi replies, his voice completely calm while his brain is a litany of high-pitched screeches.
“Yeah?” Iruka’s whole face lights up, and holy FUCK he’s a billion times hotter when he’s smiling. Dear God. How is he going to survive this? He'll probably die when he sees him in the light of day. “Are you free tomorrow? For lunch?”
“Make it a late lunch,” Kakashi agrees, nodding. “I’ll probably sleep in.”
“God, me too,” Iruka snorts, and even that’s hot. “There’s this nice cafe that- oh, wait.” His face drops. “Those, um, cough-syrup- I mean, cherry-flavored condoms…are they for… anyone special?”
Anyone special? What is he talking abo- Oh. Ohhhh.
“They aren’t for me,” Kakashi explains quickly. “I was...there isn’t…I’m not…” He shrugs helplessly. “I’m just doing a favor for a friend.”
“...A friend who needs a box of condoms at three in the morning?”
“Don’t ask.”
“I won’t.” Iruka lets out a long sigh and rubs his eyes wearily. “Anyway, I need to be heading home. Ugh, it’s gonna take, like, an hour to walk back to my apartment, none of the buses run this late and I don’t have the cash for a cab. Maybe if I hurry I can-”
“Sleep with me,” Kakashi blurts out before he can stop himself. He can almost see Iruka’s hackles go up. “I mean, like, actual sleeping, no sex stuff. Not that I wouldn’t want to do that with you, you’re fucking gorgeous, it’s just I’m way too tired-” He cuts off his babbling, unsettled by Iruka’s stoney silence. “I’m just saying I live, like, five minutes away and I thought since it’s closer, maybe you’d appreciate-” Iruka’s still not talking. He’s probably about to kick Kakashi in the dick and run. “I, uh, promise I’m not an ax murderer or anything. You can take a pic of me and send it to your friends to let them know you’re sleeping with me-”
“I’m sure they won’t at all take that the wrong way,” Iruka states, finally speaking. He studies Kakashi for a moment longer. “...Yeah okay I’ll sleep with you. My standards are low enough right now.” He pauses to snicker. “Look at me, sleeping with a guy whose name I don’t even know. It’s like college all over again.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m Kakashi.”
“Iruka.”
“I know, I saw your name-tag. So, wait. You’re not worried I’ll try something?” he asks cautiously. Iruka scoffs.
“I know jiu-jitsu. Touch me and I’ll throw you through a wall.” 
That would explain the muscles. And Kakashi’s desire to be pinned by him. 
“I have eight dogs,” he warns.
“They’ll make excellent feet-warmers,” Iruka says dismissively. “Do you have good pillows? I’m a stickler for good pillows, I need the support for my neck, otherwise I get stiff shoulders.”
“I have a couple memory foam ones, plus a down comforter and some quilts-”
“Oh God, yes, talk dirty to me.”
“Anyway, I get the bed, you can have the couch.”
“Screw you, I just worked a double shift. I get the bed.”
“It smells like wet dog.”
“I babysit a five-year old. I’ve smelled worse.”
“Okay, fine. We share the bed, but I get the right side.”
“That’s not fair, I want the right side.”
“You can have the right side if you cook us breakfast tomorrow. Or lunch, rather. I’m not getting up till noon.”
“I’ll cook, but you have to clean up. Deal?”
“Deal.”
They shake on it, firmly sealing the agreement, and head off down the road together.
They don’t let go.
(Written for @kakairu-fest Nine Weeks of Summer, Week Two Prompt: Shop AU)
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ganymedesclock · 5 years ago
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Ghirahim and gendered expectations of sensuality
So, as people who’ve seen my previous Zelda posts might gather, I have a mixed relationship with Skyward Sword. On the one hand, I think many of its characters have tremendous potential. On the other, I feel like the game largely did not live up to that potential, and in some areas, it feels rather deliberate. But suffice to say, elements of Skyward Sword have meant that certain characters- Batreaux, Groose, Fi, and Ghirahim are not far from my mind.
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A brief primer, for those who might be unfamiliar: Ghirahim is the main antagonist of Skyward Sword, and a bit of an aberration in the common Zelda formula, which tends to introduce a ‘decoy’ or “lieutenant” antagonist who dominates for most of the game and then bows out towards the end as the prelude to the true final boss- usually Ganondorf, in Skyward Sword’s case, it’s the demon god and a figure we are clearly supposed to scan as Ganondorf’s divine progenitor, Demise.
Ghirahim is quite openly a harbinger of, and servant to, Demise- where he breaks script is by being extremely proactive. We run into Ghirahim in most dungeons in the game, where he is not waiting idly for us, but doing actions that veteran Zelda players might recognize as comparable to Link’s: he breaks into dungeons either chasing Zelda, or chasing information that will allow him to proceed. We also have not one but three different fights with him, personally, and several other times he concedes that he doesn’t have time to play with Link and instead sics a boss monster on him.
The other thing about Ghirahim is, I will outright say it: He is written as a caricature of a predatory queer man.
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He’s shown to be literally bloodthirsty, and presented by the narrative ostensibly as someone who has a sinister, perverse interest in both Link and Zelda, a contrast to their saintly, chaste union (which is supposed to read as a union; pursue a romantic sideplot with Peatrice, another girl in the game, and Fi will pretty much openly admonish you for cheating on Zelda, saying that Zelda wouldn’t be happy to know Link’s seeing someone and that Link should know that)
This is, really, a bit jarring, when Ghirahim’s actual dialogue suggests that he has very little interest in Link and views him much like a butler tending the master’s house while the latter is away might view a feral golden retriever that’s running loose in the place and getting mud on everything. His emotional range runs from warmly patronizing to exasperated to a truly dangerous degree (since, in this metaphor, the butler has also been tending the master’s house in near-total isolation for something like several centuries not having real conversations with the other servants and nobody’s at their psychological best in those situations even if they weren’t implicitly born and raised to murder).
Basically: that Ghirahim has no real interest in Link- not his body or appearance or anything. In his own dialogue, he seems confused by the idea that he’s at all interested, is apologetic that he’s wasting his time or dawdling and in his final scene, offers a genuinely flummoxed “you... who are you?” He offers colorful, violent threats, but when Link obstinately faces him again, he’s shown to be almost embarrassed and disgusted by them, and tries something else that almost no Zelda antagonist does: on multiple occasions, he tells Link to just walk away from the situation with what appears to be every intent of letting him go.
Ghirahim does not want Link for himself. He seems to, begrudgingly, against his own intentions, value Link as someone to fight against, but this connection does not actualize within the story- they are not really rivals. He isn’t even that deeply fond of the idea of Link’s blood, though he’s a proponent of blood as a vague concept.
Now, I like Ghirahim. I don’t think that even the read of Ghirahim as a queer man is a terrible one. But it definitely is interesting the lens in which Ghirahim’s implicit sensuality is cast. Basically, he is depicted as creeping on Link, without any real sense that he wants Link. Because it isn’t about what he wants- it’s about that implicitly he has a sexuality, and the idea of a man who might be attracted to other men is threatening, evil, and scary. Ghirahim wasn’t made queer-coded for representation’s sake. He was queer-coded to suggest he was depraved and motivated by a sinister lust. And the cruelty of this depiction is I think made immediately clear by- Ghirahim’s actual interests, passion, or preferences do not factor in here. That Scene Where Ghirahim Does The Tongue Thing is about how it is expected to make the player feel, and how implicitly Link feels.
What is Ghirahim’s type? Does he consider Demise beautiful? He makes it pretty clear he considers Link a brat. These are questions that aren’t asked, because it’s wrong that Ghirahim seems to have any sexuality at all- and, since Link is our lens and our guidepost for how we’re supposed to feel about characters, if Ghirahim behaves in a sensual manner it happens to Link, and to Zelda, invasively. Even though it is shown he feels no desire for any of these people, so that sensuality basically comes across like the game is firmly expecting us to find the idea of even an e-rated sensual male antagonist repulsive.
This led me down a very odd sort of rabbit trail.
Because Ghirahim- a bit indirectly- is inspired off a figure skater.
Specifically, Fi’s design was stated to evoke a figure skater, and we even see her ‘skating’ in several of the cutscenes. Ghirahim��s design matches Fi’s quite strongly; they were designed to be two of a kind.
I am not, myself, a figure skating buff, but a while ago, I happened across youtube videos of a skater named Johnny Weir. 
Quickly, you can see the sword spirits’ inspirations; the close-fitting leotards, the lithe, acrobatic capabilities.
But here’s the thing about Johnny Weir: this is a guy putting on a sensual performance that is not a gross-out, a joke, or a threat. It’s basically impossible to find nothing suggestive in his choice of backup movement or the movements he makes running his hands along his body- his costume even asserts these more with the mirrored details on his gloves. This is a dude, acting in a way you could say is objectively sensual even if it may or may not stir every viewer given the individual nature of preference.
But there’s a world of difference to Weir’s performance. Not just that this is a voluntary choice made by a real person, while Ghirahim’s choices, even if they have in-game logic, are largely about Link and about the player- but Johnny Weir is having fun. He has a charming energy to him and is performing to a song he loves.
Watching Johnny Weir, it occurred to me, that regardless of Weir’s own orientation- that I do not know and will not speculate on- there’s a preconception around “being sexy”. Women are seen as supposed to be sexy (but, in many circles, not too sexy. Can’t insinuate they know what they’re doing, or have opinions and tastes...), or, more, “sexy is seen as a job that women do for men specifically.”
So, to homophobic audiences... a man deliberately enacting a sensual performance- a sense of what sensual looks like from a dude- is seen as weird, wild, and out there. If you’re not shocked by the implications that Ghirahim may be attracted to men, may be into Link, may be into the idea of torturing Link- then a certain amount of his writing kind of falls apart. 
And comparing the way Ghirahim is animated and shot to Johnny Weir’s performance, it’s kind of... weak? Like, at one point in Weir’s routine, he lifts one leg and slides his fingertips down it in a smooth stroke from knee to thigh. It’s a steamy looking move, and this coming from someone who is so prodigiously ace I thought sexual attraction was made up for the first seventeen years of my life.
Ghirahim does not do that. He’s got thigh cutouts in his very close-fitting outfit, and has lines in his second fight about his body and how beautiful it is, but he does not make these movements that deliberately catch and draw the eye along the planes of him.
To me, I feel like besides this being a general affront against real queer people- the Zelda games have a concerning habit of depicting “eccentric, effeminate” men as either neutral characters or open villains and virtually always with this air of being the brunt of a joke (it’s very hard to imagine ALBW’s Yuga was designed by someone who earnestly loved this character)- it is also a bit rude to the character of Ghirahim himself.
Because Ghirahim, at the end of the day, is someone who ends the story heartbroken literally and figuratively. The entire game, he is driven by loyalty to Demise. He does not care who he hurts or threatens- and this comes back to the seeming implication that he is somewhat bloodthirsty, but vastly plays up his appetite for torture. When he thinks his goal is out of reach, he continues slogging away at it anyway, but listlessly. Everything he does, is for Demise. He is devoted enough to, late in the game, throw himself on Link’s sword for the third boss fight purely to stall for time until Demise revives.
Demise does not speak to Ghirahim, or acknowledge him, or even seemingly notice or care that by the time he comes back, Ghirahim’s metal heart has been torn open by being repeatedly stabbed by Link. (third boss fight is not kind.) Instead, he rips Ghirahim’s sword form out of his chest.
Ghirahim is a danger to Link, Impa, and Zelda, because he attacks them, and his own subordinates, because he threatens them. But to his master, he’s just a disposable pawn. This is a character driven by passion such that many of his poses and scenes show him nearly breaking into an actor’s soliloquy as he explains something to Link- and this is one way he does seem to like having Link around: he craves an audience.
And his passion is, in two ways, depicted as completely futile. First, in the dubious amount of oo scary gay man, watch out Link, he’s doing something weird with his tongue- and second and far more seriously, that everything he works for leaves him with nothing because his life never mattered for a second in the eyes of the person he lives and dies for.
Ghirahim is made a sensual character, but in a manner that feels bad faith- that feels like it has not thought about male sensuality in any direction besides “that’s wrong and icky, so we’ll attach it to our villain, who we want to be wrong and icky, and absolutely not suggest there’s anything particularly sad about what happens to him. His fault for being wrong and icky.”
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