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revasserium · 11 months

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death before decaf

opla!zoro; 10,414 words; coffee shop/college!au, vague enemies to lovers, fencer!zoro, sports medicine!major reader, slightly ooc zoro (he's a bit more talkative), fluff and flirting, bff!robin, zoro makes the first move, zoro calling reader "princess", mutual pining, both reader and zoro are dumbasses, making out in locker rooms

summary: sanji and nami bet on how long it'll take you and zoro to finally crack over your caffeine-related discourse; or -- that one coffee!shop zoro au that literally no one asked for.

a/n: i keep on saying "this is the longest fic i've written to date" but this really is the longest fic i've written to date. and no, this will not be the only time zoro calls reader "princess" in one of my fics. trust.

one.

“How long did you say?”

“Two weeks, max.”

“Nah… you think?”

“Probably closer to a week. Week and a half.”

Sanji stubs out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe before tossing the smoking nub into the bin, casting Nami a disbelieving look.

“They’ve been going on like this for like three months… and you think they’re gonna crack in the next week and a half? Nah, fam — I call bullshit.”

Nami shrugs, smirking, “Your funeral.”

Sanji scoffs as Nami pushes through the swinging double doors into the main body of the cafe, hitching a smile onto her face as she greets the customers already lined up in front of the counter.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mutters to himself, dusting his hands off on his apron before pushing in after her, putting on his best customer-service smile.

“Mornin’ folks! Welcome to the Straw Hats Cafe, where the coffee’s hot but the people are hotter — what can I get started for you, sweetheart?” he grins as he shoots you a wink and you flash him your best Colgate smile.

“Can I get a decaf latte with —”

“Oat milk, two pumps of caramel, and whipped cream on top? Oh — and a sprinkle of cinnamon cause you can’t have a fall latte without cinnamon, right?” Sanji finishes for you.

You nod, your cheeks flushed a bright, wind-kissed pink from the cold outside.

Behind you, a green-haired boy in a tight-fitting tee and no jacket scoffs under his breath, shaking his head.

“Yep! You know me so well,” you say, giggling and making a point to speak just a bit louder.

“Course I do, darlin’. It’s what I get paid for,” Sanji jots down your order and pushes it to the side where Nami’s already halfway done with making your drink.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite mosshead jock — lemme guess, double espresso, no sugar, no nothin’, right?” Sanji punches in the order just as Zoro makes his way up to the counter, his eyes narrowed.

“Yeah.”

Sanji grins, hiking an eyebrow, “Talkative as always, I see. Alright — that’d be —”

Zoro wordlessly slides a full punch card onto the counter and Sanji pauses.

“Ah — pardon me, I do believe that’s your free drink! You sure you wanna use it on an espresso? Maybe… you wanna try one of our seasonal specials? The maple spice latte’s one of our best —”

Zoro scoffs again, “I’m good. I like my coffee real, thanks.”

Down passed the pastries, you roll your eyes, making an exaggerated face as Nami hands you your drink with a grin.

“Y’know, if you guys just made out I feel like it would fix a lot of this unresolved tension,” she says, even as you nearly choke on your drink.

You’re still coughing when Zoro joins you by the finished drinks counter.

“I’d rather lose an eye than make out with someone who drinks decaf.”

Nami sighs, shooting you a meaningful look as she slides the double espresso toward Zoro.

You wipe your lips with a napkin before leveling him with a glare.

“Well I’d rather gouge my own eyes out than make out with someone who never grew out of his middle school emo-phase.”

“At least I don’t try to use sugar to fill the gaping hole in your life where a real personality should be.”

“At least I don’t make that gaping hole my entire personality.”

“Princess.”

“Edgelord.”

You turn resolutely away from Zoro and smile back at Nami and Sanji, both stealing glances at the pair of you even as they continue to handle the Monday morning rush.

“Thank you guys — I’m gonna be late for class.

Zoro tsks, taking a sip of his espresso.

“I’m gonna be late for practice.”

You huff, pivoting away from him towards the door, purposefully letting it swing shut behind you; Zoro swears as it almost makes him spill his coffee.

Back in the coffee shop, Sanji finishes another order just as Nami washes off her hands to take over at the cashier.

“One and a half weeks?” Sanji asks as he rolls up his sleeves and grabs a few metal cups for steamed milk.

“Yep,” Nami replies, shooting another look out the glass door where they can both still see your’s and Zoro’s silhouettes as you head towards the university campus, “Just about.”

“Alright then, you’re on.”

Nami’s smirk only grows, “Like I said — your funeral.”

two.

You’re fuming all the way to your first morning class — Bio-Organic Chemistry — that you don’t notice your friend Robin until she’s standing right next to you.

“Are you mad at your fencer-boy again?”

You roll your eyes, huffing out a breath, “He’s not my fencer-boy, and no. I’m not mad.”

Robin grins, “Your tone says different.”

You cast her a reproachful look, “I just… bumped into him at the coffee shop again.”

“Ah,” Robin says, her voice saturated with understanding.

You groan, “He just… pisses me off so much! Like, why’s he care how much sugar I put in my drinks or if I drink decaf? He’s just a muscle-head loser who thinks drinking espresso shots makes him somehow more manly or something. Ugh.”

Robin’s grin is amused when you turn to chance her a glance.

“Then… why do you care how he takes his coffee?” Her question is light, but you’ve known her for long enough to know when she’s teasing.

“I didn’t! At least… not until he made fun of my drink first. I mean, who does that anymore? We’re in college! Like, grow up!”

“Mm,” Robin hums, schooling her expression into one of careful consideration and marked compassion, “and of course, you’re just engaging in his… childish antics because he started it first, right?”

You sigh, cupping your very sugary latte between your palms as you both duck into the main lecture building, teaming with students shedding scarves and jackets, shaking off the late autumn chill.

“I know, I know it’s stupid but… he just… pisses me off so much!”

Robin chuckles, her smile distinctly sphinx-like as you press your lips into a pout.

“Well, we can talk about it after morning lecture, hm?”

You sigh and nod, waving her off as she heads down the hallway towards her Ancient Worlds class and you head upstairs for the sciences.

You spend the whole lecture in a mood and by the time you’re excused, your temples have started to throb.

But true to her word, you find Robin waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs, a thick leather-bound book clutched to her chest. You give her a questioning look.

“Just some light reading,” she says. You roll your eyes.

“Just say you’re a gigantic nerd and go.”

At this Robin laughs, falling into step next to you as you both start to make your way towards the dining commons.

“Have I ever denied that I was?”

You let out a noncommittal grunt.

Luckily, the commons isn‘t as crowded as it usually is and you both quickly find a seat.

“So,” Robin says as she slides into the seat next to you, propping up her chin on the heel of her hand. There’s a low, lilting tone to her voice that tells you there’s no getting out of it this time.

You sigh again, pursing your lips, staring down at your açaí bowl.

“So what?”

“Tell me about him.”

You scoff, “Not really much to tell — he’s… one of the fencers on the national team. So obviously, he’s got his own head shoved so far up his ass he can probably watch his own lunch dige—“

“So he’s quite good at fencing then.” Robin keeps her voice neutral, taking a contemplative bite of a banana.

“I guess — I mean we’re the top feeder school for the Olympic team, aren’t we?” You jab your spoon into the yogurt, nearly splattering Robin’s new book. She gently tucks it into her bag and motions for you to continue.

“I dunno, there’s not much to tell after that… he’s an arrogant jock who judges people by how they take their coffee,” and at this, you shove a large spoonful of yogurt and açaí into your mouth, glaring at nothing in particular.

“Doesn’t your practical applications class look after the fencing team?”

Again, you grunt, sinking a bit further into your seat at the thought.

“Yeah, I’ve been dreading that all morning, and the class isn’t till Wednesday.”

Robin’s smile is almost too academic as she carefully finishes her banana and gets started on an egg salad sandwich.

“It can’t be that bad, can it?”

You sniff, swallowing another huge mouthful of yogurt.

“It can,” you say, grimacing, “You should see the number of times I’ve had to hold back from dislocating his shoulder on purpose.”

Robin laughs her tinkling, all-knowing laugh, “Every day, I wake up glad to be on your whitelist.”

Your lips twitch into a reluctant grin.

“I’d be nicer too if I were as tall and pretty as you are. But since I’m not one of god’s strongest soldiers, I’ve gotta find other ways of defending myself, y’know?”

“I’m not sure what you do can be called ‘self-defense’ in a court of law but…” she smiles, “You shouldn’t sell yourself short either.”

You cast her a deadpan look, “But I am short. It’s like where 90% of my rage and spite come from.”

Robin grins, “You know that’s not what I meant.”

You make a rather childish face, but a comfortable warmth spreads from the center of your chest out towards all your extremities at Robin’s words. She cocks her head and continues.

“Plus… I’ve a creeping suspicion that your fencer-boy would agree that you’re prettier than you think.”

You freeze mid-swallow on your last spoonful of yogurt, eyes wide.

“Wait — what?”

Robin sighs, looking at you as if studying a particularly interesting monolith carved with all her favorite dead languages. You sit back, crossing your arms, feeling raw beneath her inquisitive gaze.

“You can’t still think that this little… feud you two have is purely based on a difference in coffee preference, can you?”

You realize you’re chewing on your bottom lip and force yourself to stop.

“I — I don’t know how it can be anything else though…” but even to your own ears, you sound distinctly unconvinced. Robin cocks her head.

“Think about it — when we were all little kids and running around on playground, which girls would get their pigtails pulled the most?”

Your frown deepens, “But we’re not kids anymore and this isn’t a play —“

“Yes, I know. Just humor me for a moment.”

You squirm in your seat, your heart thudding erratically in your rib cage, making you feel strangely breathless.

“It was… always the girls that the boys had a crush on,” you answer, your voice growing smaller with each word as the realization seeps into your skin like sunlight. And suddenly, it's too hot. The thought that Zoro might be doing this because he likes you isn’t something that’s crossed your mind. Or rather, it isn’t a thought you’d allowed to cross your mind.

“You know, boys aren’t technically considered ‘men’ until they’re in their mid-thirties,” Robin says, conversational and satisfied to have driven the point home to you. She leans back even as you reach up to press your face into the palms of your hands.

“But…” you try to grasp for some thread of logic that might be able to refute Robin’s claim but come up empty. She’s always been too smart for her own good. And yours.

When you finally lift your head again, it’s to find Robin still watching you, an oddly indulgent smile on her lips.

“C’mon,” she says, gathering her things, “don’t want you to be late for your next lecture.”

She has the audacity to wink as you hurriedly grab your stuff as well.

“Shut up,” you say, bumping her lightly with your elbow as you walk passed her, cheeks darkening with every step. Your next lecture, you both know, is the Nutrition of Sports — which is one of the few actual classes that you and Zoro actually share.

“Have fun in class!” Robin calls as you split ways outside the dining commons. You consider flipping her off but decide against it and opt to stick out your tongue at her instead.

Robin shakes her head, laughing quietly to herself. Really, she thinks, this is just starting to get interesting.

three.

You walk into Nutrition of Sports fully prepared to see Zoro slouched in his usual seat at the back of the class — except, he’s not there. You blink; he’s always been there, always early despite what others might assume of his punctuality. And yet.

“Lookin’ for me, Princess?”

You jump as you hear Zoro’s voice behind you, dangerously close to your ear. Jerking around, you find him smirking, arms crossed as he stares at you.

“N-no.”

“Tch.” He saunters into the room, his arm barely grazing yours as he drops into his seat, leaning back with a sort of damnable, feline grace, doing nothing to hide a huge, lethargic yawn. When he makes a show of stretching his arms over his head, you pause as you notice the way he winces, favoring his left side over his right.

You narrow your eyes.

“You’d be a shit poker player,” he says, grinning as he turns his eyes back towards you, catching you staring before you flush a deep purple and stomp towards your own seat, just one row ahead of him.

You noisily start setting up your supplies — an endless parade of jelly pens and perfectly coordinated sticky notes in aesthetically pleasing colors — pretending like you hadn’t heard him.

Thankfully, the professor hurries in soon after as the rest of the students file in.

Halfway through the lecture, you’re stifling the third yawn of the hour as you feel a small, crumpled something hit the back of your neck. You jerk around to find Zoro ducking behind his arms even as you spot the small wad of paper that he’d obviously just tossed at you.

You bend down to pick it up, only to find a note scribbled in slanted, uneven handwriting —

Sugar crash? Ha. Serves you right.

You nearly whip around but the professor clicks another slide and drones on. You huff, flipping the paper over to scribble on the back —

What happened to your arm?

You surreptitiously toss the note back to him and grin to yourself as you hear him sputtering behind you. The professor glances towards you. You flash him a winning smile as you continue to jot down notes; behind you, you hear the distinct sounds of Zoro scrambling to appear as if he’s paying attention.

The rest of the lecture goes by uninterrupted, though by the end, you swear that your hackles are raised from the way Zoro’s been staring at the back of your neck the entire time.

“What?” you ask, whipping around to face him.

Zoro, for his part, has the decency to look sheepish as he clears his throat and sighs, leaning back.

“There’s nothing wrong with my arm,” he says as he looks away, a slight darkness dusting the high of his cheeks. It’s not the first time you notice the bone-chiseled features of his face — like some gorgeous, careless god, rendered by the loving hands of a besotted Renaissance artist and preserved for the world to see — the way a constellation of freckles scatter across the bridge of his nose, the way his jaw is sharp enough to sting the imagination.

“Right. Fine. Sorry I asked.” You shove your notes and pens back into your bag, rolling your eyes as you shoulder your tote, “And… you’d be a shit poker player too.”

And with that, you turn and leave the room without a single backward glance.

You’re gone so quick that you don’t see the way Zoro stares after you, his own eyes narrowed into slits. You don’t see the way he frowns as one of his teammates nudges him with an elbow, reminding him that afternoon practice starts in 15 minutes.

four.

Tuesday night finds you slumped over a stack of books on the 3rd floor of the library, your entire body feeling odd and boneless. Hundreds of tiny flashcards are scattered across the top of the desk, each filled with a system you have to memorize before your test on Friday for your O-Chem course, when suddenly, a white paper cup appears in your field of vision, plopping onto the tiny slip of table still available between all your study materials.

“Hm?” you jerk up, blinking blearily up at a vaguely familiar green-haired figure even as he crosses his arms and sighs.

“There. Some real coffee. Looked like you need it,” Zoro says, glancing away the moment your eyes come into focus.

You stare at him for a solid ten seconds before looking back down at the cheap, watered-down cup of unsweetened coffee on the table before you.

Ew, you want to say, but somehow, “Thanks,” is what comes out of your mouth.

You reach for the cup, wincing slightly as you jerk your fingers back from the scalding exterior of the thin paper cup.

Zoro immediately leans down, snatching the cup from the table to blow on the surface. You watch him with wide, wondering eyes. It takes him a second to catch himself before he blushes a deep shade of maroon and clears his throat, quickly setting the cup back down on your desk, tucking both his hands into his pockets, looking anywhere but directly at you.

“It’s — careful — I mean — it’s from the vending machine downstairs so it’s not as fancy as the stuff we get from the coffee shop —”

Maybe it’s because you’re truly too tired, or maybe because Robin’s been right since day one but — you reach for the cup, carefully cradling it between your palms as you take a tentative sip and grimace at the watery, bitter aftertaste.

“Gross,” you say, though without any malice, glancing up at him. Zoro scoffs, dragging out an empty seat across from you, turning it around to straddle the chair, propping both his arms on the back as he looks at you. Your eyes once more catch on the way he’s gentler with his right side.

“What’s wrong with your arm?” you ask again, taking another tentative sip of the truly awful coffee.

Zoro grimaces, “None of your business.”

You sigh, the will to snark back rather feeble as you consider the mountain of vocab you have to memorize before your Friday test.

“Right, sure — keep your secrets,” you drone as you set the paper cup down and nudge it further away from you, “be mysterious for the next —” you check your watch, “eighteen hours before Practical Applications when you’ll have to explain to Coach Mihawk why you've been lying about an obvious injury three weeks before your next —”

“Fuck — okay.”

You pause, looking up from collecting your flash cards.

Zoro digs his fingers into his right shoulder.

“I — I think I pulled it at the tournament last week.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “Your tournament was on Thursday.”

Zoro shifts uncomfortably, “And?”

“And it’s now Tuesday.”

Zoro doesn’t answer this time, but you have to actively fight down the urge to throw the no-longer-scalding-but-still-very-hot-coffee at his face. You tell yourself that the only thing stopping you is professionalism and sportsmanship instead of an unwillingness to damage his Michaelangelo-sculpted features.

“It’s been five days!”

Zoro’s expression flatlines, “Contrary to popular belief, I do know how to count.”

You bite back a frustrated scream as you push away from your chair and round the table to stand behind him, not giving him enough time to be bewildered before you press a palm to his right shoulder, already focused on finding the tender spots.

“Tell me where it hurts.”

You run an expert palm over the width of his shoulders, focusing on his right, fingers digging into various muscle groups until he winces.

“Ow.”

You grin as you find a tender patch to the right of his spine, almost beneath his shoulder blade.

“You strained your Rhomboid.”

“Gesundheit.”

You roll your eyes and reach over his back for the cup of coffee. You feel his breath hitch as your front presses full against his back.

“Hold still,” you say, pressing the side of the warm cup to the sore muscle.

Zoro makes a choked moaning noise that he tries to bite off, but not soon enough. It sizzles down your spine to curl at the base of your belly, spreading heat through your body in a way you have no urge to examine at this current point in time.

You hold it there for a minute, and then two, till the coffee’s gone lukewarm.

“Here,” you say, tugging the cup away to offer it to him.

He stares at the cup before glancing up at you.

“Caffeine helps with muscle soreness and pain — it’s probably why you’re so addicted to espresso all the time,” you offer by way of an explanation, even as he opens his mouth to ask. He closes his mouth and takes the coffee, downing half of it in a single gulp.

Then, he sets it down on the table before digging a crumpled packet of sugar out of his pants pocket.

“It’s… probably not as sweet as you usually like it but…” he presses it into the palm of your hand, looking anywhere but at your face, “should help the bitterness.”

And then he’s gone, slouching off towards the elevator bank, leaving you gaping after him with the packet of sugar in your hand, your rapidly cooling coffee, and a mountain of revisions you’ve got no hope of finishing tonight.

five.

Wednesday finds you practically sprinting as you reach your Practical Applications course, clutching at your chest as you burst through the gym doors, gasping for breath. Professor Kureha quirks an inquiring eyebrow at you while Mihawk, the fencing instructor, slates you a sharp, rueful glare.

“— as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” his bright hawk-yellow eyes flash back over the fencing team, “regionals are quickly approaching and we need you in top form. So — warm-ups stretches, everyone. Pair up and get to it. Zoro, up here with me.”

You duck your head and hurry towards your normal spot along the bleachers, slowing as you notice what looks like a cup of coffee from the Straw Hats Cafe occupying the place where you normally sit. You pick up the cup — it’s still hot to the touch.

On the coffee slip is a single word — Princess.

And though it’s in Sanji’s familiar coffee shop scrawl, only one person has ever called you that.

Heat crests up your chest, prickling at your cheeks. You don’t have to taste it to know that it’s your order — your favorite order. Briefly, you wonder if Sanji made Zoro recite the entire thing before agreeing to put it down, or if he’d spared Zoro the pain of having to say the word ‘decaf’ unironically.

And then you wonder if Nami teased him at all, waiting for his own drink on top of yours.

“Chop chop,” Professor Kureha says, grinning too wide as she wanders over, peering at you over her John Lennon shades, “you heard old Hawk-eyes — time to pair up.”

You hurriedly drop your bag and take a quick sip of our drink, letting out a soft groan of appreciation as the caramel-cinnamon goodness seeps into your blood vessels. Some nameless freshman hopeful from the fencing team is your partner for stretches and you patiently walk him through all the major motions, pushing on his back and laughing kindly when he can’t quite reach his toes.

You feel the faint tingle on the back of your neck that tells you someone’s staring, and you privately think that you don’t need three guesses to figure out who it is. But you don’t give Zoro the satisfaction of looking over till you help the blushing freshman finish all his stretches, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, reaching up on tip-toe to ruffle his hair even though he’s got a solid four inches over you.

When finally, you glance over towards where Mihawk is putting Zoro through his paces, it’s to find him flickering through the motions — flashes of silver, lithe, fluid — and you find your breath held captive in your chest by the sight.

You’ve always known Zoro to be a graceful fencer, but grace has nothing on the way he flows from one move to the next, each muscle drawn like a bow-string, each intake of breath timed and perfect. His arms and legs move in tandem and there’s a bewitching rhythm to the way his body breaks and bends. It is beauty and strength, dance and magic — power and promise and the sword-tip’s whish of premonition.

When he finishes, you suck in a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding.

You watch as Mihawk murmurs something to Zoro, who winces, looking chastened before Mihawk waves him away and Zoro sets down his epee, making his way over to you.

You open your mouth, about to make some snarky remark but Zoro reaches over his back with one hand and tugs his shirt off in a single, unbroken motion. You gulp, your voice failing you as your eyes settle on the strong ripple of his muscles as he tosses his shirt aside.

Zoro smirks, “Keep starin’ and I’m gonna have to start charging.”

You rip your eyes away, fire licking up the length of your torso as you reach into your bag for a roll of sports tape.

Zoro slumps down in the seat in front of you as you take stock of his sweat-slicked torso, your eyes still catching on the patch of swollen muscle beneath his shoulder blade. You reach forward and run a thumb along it, careful of the way he hisses.

“A hot-patch is only going to do so much,” you say, frowning as you drop the sports tape to focus on massaging the tender bit of skin.

Zoro groans, his eyes falling half shut as you slowly work at the various knots in his shoulders. Your fingers are slow and deliberate, applying just the right amount of pressure. And more than once, Zoro has to bite back what he’s sure would’ve been an indecent moan before it rolls out of his mouth at the way your soft palms press into the planes of his back, the tenseness of his shoulders.

“Keep moaning like that, I’m gonna have to start charging,” you say, much too close to his ear.

Zoro jerks, even as you pull back, laughing. The sound makes his skin prickle up with goosebumps and he doesn’t want to think about the myriad reasons why.

“I bought you coffee, twice,” he grumbles, cheeks pink, his mind still buzzing from the warmth of your palms.

You hum, your fingers flickering over his skin, pulling away for a second before he feels something wonderful and cool pressing against his sore, aching muscles.

“You’re right… you did buy me coffee twice. Even though the first time was horrible vending machine coffee and I used most of it as a heating pad for your injury.”

Zoro grunts, letting you manhandle him as you gently twist his right arm into an array of different stretches to test his range of mobility.

“Still counts.”

You put down his right arm to test his left. Zoro chooses not to think about the way his body tingles where your hands touch him, and especially not where you’re standing too close, your chest occasionally brushing against his shoulder. He chooses actively not to think about the way he can smell the soft, coconut milk fragrance of your lotion as you lean over him, rambling about doing the proper warm-up and cool-down exercises.

He grins as you reach over mid-sentence to finish your drink and you pause, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“What?”

He shrugs, “Nothin’… just that… seems like you liked your drink.”

Your eyes slingshot from his face to the nearly empty cup in your hands.

“I always like my —”

They widen when you realize that Zoro had in fact ordered a double shot of espresso in your usual drink instead of your normal decaf. And, that you’d been too distracted by him to notice.

“I — it — wh —”

Zoro languidly rises from his seat, grinning, “Thanks for the treatment, Princess. I owe you one — lemme buy you a coffee sometime, yeah?”

You stare after him as he makes his way across the room, back to the rest of the team for proper bouts. You force down another blush as you shove the now-empty coffee cup into the nearest trash can, your heart skidding to the rhythmic squeak of feet shuffling against the floors, the bell-like ting of epee blades, the murmur of the watching crowd.

six.

Thursday morning finds you ill-rested and grumpy as you join Robin in the quad, heading for the Straw Hats Cafe during free period.

“Trouble sleeping?” Robin asks, looking you over with mild concern.

You grunt, adjusting your bag, “Had coffee too late in the day.”

At this, Robin frowns, “But you only drink decaf.”

You grunt again, not looking at her, “Yeah, well.”

Robin blinks for a second before a knowing smile splits her lips, “Ah… so. Fencer-boy’s made his move.”

You round on her, fists clenched, “He has not! He just — he just bought me coffee!”

Robin remains infuriatingly unfazed as she stares at you, “Yes. And to most, that would constitute as ‘making a move’. And here I thought you were a fan of romance novels.”

You turn away from her, huffing even as your cheeks fill with color, “I — I am.”

“So?” she asks.

“So?” you echo, cursing yourself for sounding like a petulant child.

“So…” she continues, patient as always, “he bought you coffee.”

You crinkle your nose, your stomach a roiling mess as the pair of you make your way across the quad and duck into the cafe to Sanji’s bright, welcoming voice, your eyes scanning the queue even though you know that Zoro’s got morning practice. This does not go unnoticed by Robin, though she mercifully elects to not question you about it.

“Yes, he bought me coffee. But instead of decaf, he made it a double-shot.” You try very hard to make this sound like a personal affront, but Robin only dips her head.

“Ah,” she says again, and you feel the urge to run out of the building even as the pair of you shuffle towards the front of the line.

“Hi there, oh! I’ve got a special message for you,” Nami says as you get to the registers, her voice silken with glee as she reaches behind the counter to tug out what looks like a receipt. You glance down at the paper, confused, but she only winks as she moves to ask what Robin would like.

You inch to the side, distracted by this strange turn, your eyes dropping to the slip of paper, upon which is scribbled — Good luck on test tomorrow. Evening bout. Gym.

You stare at the cryptic message for a full minute before Robin ushers you toward the counter where Sanji is pumping out drinks, making girls blush as he winks at them each in turn.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite Decaf Princess — though… seems like your tastes are a-changin’ these days,” Sanji says, grinning wide as you get to the counter, pushing a steaming cup towards you. You frown at the drink — cinnamon sprinkled atop a perfectly placed dollop of whipped cream, underneath which you’re sure is your favorite drink order. You look back up at Sanji.

“A certain mosshead jock put in an advanced order for you — said to give you an extra shot of espresso for the test you’ve got tomorrow.”

You sputter as Robin laughs beside you, thanking Sanji for her own Long Black.

“You know, you could just be normal and call it an Americano,” you say as the pair of you make your way out of the cafe. Robin grins, sipping at her drink.

“I could… but where’s the fun in that?” she slates you a glance, “More importantly, are you going?”

“To what?” you ask, not meaning to sound so defensive, but you can’t help it, and even as Robin sighs, you know that it’s useless.

“To the bout,” she says, unruffled.

You hunch into your upturned collar and your thick, layered scarf, cradling your drink, the sweet scent of syrup and cinnamon wafting up to tickle your nose. You blush at the thought of Zoro’s voice, full of morning gravel, shy as he lists out all the extremities you like in your coffee order.

“Maybe. I mean… why not, right?”

Robin nods, humming as she takes another long drink, “Mhm — why not indeed.”

You nudge her; she nudges you back. You both laugh as a church bell rings out from across the quad, sending a flock of birds scattering through the misty, morning air.

seven.

Friday evening finds you pushing through the wide gym doors, pressing your hands over the skirt you’d painstakingly picked out, chewing on your bottom lip.

You silently curse at Robin for pulling out last minute, begging off to some Ancient Languages focus group.

“I bet it’s not even real…” you mutter to yourself as you slip into the front row of the bleachers, looking for an empty seat. You somehow manage to look up just as Zoro is about to go on, his mask under one arm, his blade in the other.

You raise your hand in a half wave before catching yourself and shoving it back down, scowling as Zoro’s lips pull into a lopsided grin. You drop into a seat just as Zoro tugs his helmet on and stretches his arms. You tense as you see the slight wince he twitches away as he tests the weight of his blade.

But you needn’t have worried — the bout is quick and decisive, Zoro scoring one point after another, his blade flashing through the air, bright as fish scales. And before you know it, the buzzer sounds, marking his victory. You leap to your feet, cheering with the rest of the crowd as Zoro tugs off his mask and pumps his fists.

You catch his eye and for a moment, the wild rumble of the screaming crowd fades to a dull, thumping baseline. He jerks his head towards the lockers and you nod, swallowing hard as you duck through the still-cheering crowd towards the back of the gym.

When you get there, it’s to find him methodically polishing his blade, his mask set to the side, his thick jacket pulled down to pool around his waist, the rest of his protective wear scattered in heaps on the ground around him. You have half a mind to scold him for being so careless with what you know is expensive gear but you can’t keep yourself from staring at the wide planes of back, curving up to his shoulders, the thick cords of muscle that flex up either side of his neck.

He looks up as you shuffle in, your skirt suddenly feeling a bit too short, too risque for the near-winter weather outside.

You clear your throat and cast your eyes about the empty lockers. You don’t miss the way his gaze skates up your bare legs, pausing at the place where your skirt brushes the top of your thighs.

“Uhm — how’s your shoulder?” your voice sounds too high, echoing strangely along the white-tiled walls.

Zoro licks his lips and puts down his blade, rolling his right shoulder.

“Better but… still not great. Mihawk’s making me to do PT.”

You nod, letting out a soft laugh, “I’m glad. You’d never do it otherwise.”

He scoffs, “You know what that means though, right?” There’s a raw, rolling tension beneath his words, a sort of thickened expectation as he stares at you with dark, meaningful eyes.

You purse your lips, your stomach tightening.

“I —”

Zoro gets to his feet, and you barely register the soft clatter of his blade as it rolls to the side on the bench. He closes the space between you in three quick steps and you find yourself marveling at his speed — wondering vaguely if this is how all his opponents feel when he slips forward, the tip of his blade digging into their shoulder or stomach or the bend of their hip.

“Means we’re stuck with each other. At least till you fix me for regionals in two weeks.”

Your back meets the icy chill of the locker doors and the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them —

“Bold of you to assume that you’re fixable in two weeks.”

Zoro quirks an eyebrow, even as you resist the urge to clap your hands to your mouth, cursing inwardly at whatever the hell made you say that out loud. Your heart thuds an insistent drumbeat inside your chest as Zoro leans casually against the lockers next to you. Like this, you can feel the heat of his skin, the rhythm of his long breaths as he looks you over with sharp, curious eyes.

You think you can taste the sweet, tepid weight of his breath. It smells faintly of coffee and mint and synthetically flavored protein bars.

“Then…” he drawls, propping an arm against the locker door right next to your face, his eyes flickering from your lips up to your eyes and back down again. Your gaze is unabashedly caught on the shape of his mouth, but when you finally force yourself to look up at his eyes, it’s to find them warm and amused.

“How long do you think it’ll take?”

You gulp, “To fix your shoulder?”

Zoro shrugs, “That and… whatever else you think needs to be fixed.”

You purse your lips, an entire kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting in your stomach at his words.

“Who knows? Might take three weeks… might take — forever —” your words cut off as he leans in to graze his lips against yours. And you’re momentarily caught between delight and bewilderment that you’re right — they do taste of coffee and mint and salt — but that they also taste of a dull, throbbing hunger as he leans in to kiss you proper. And then, the blooming realization that you’re just as desperate as he is, pushing in, fingers scrabbling against the skin of his chest as his skim along the sides of your ribs, the dip of your waist.

He kisses you so deep and so long that you’re actually gasping when he finally pulls away to suck a stinging hickey into the smooth of your collarbone, his fingers digging grooves into your thighs as he hoists you up to press you against the cold, hard metal of the lockers.

You let out a clipped moan at the same time he does, and his right arm twitches, though he makes no move to let you go.

Distantly, your mind registers the fact that he’s still technically injured, but the part of you that’s hungry and clawing at the base of your stomach with a fierce, immutable need refuses to listen to reason. It takes more effort than it logically should’ve done to extricate yourself from his grasp, to push him away despite his disgruntled sigh as he stumbles back and stares at you with dark, dangerous eyes.

“What —”

“Fuck —” you hiss, even as you let your head fall back against the lockers, the dull thunk pulling a wolfish grin to his lips.

“Yeah, well —”

“Wait — no —”

Zoro cocks his head, “No?”

You reach forward to tug him back, to kiss him as deeply and desperately as you dare, but you pull away before he can properly sink into the kiss and you pin him with a look.

“We — your shoulder —”

“Fuck my shoulder —”

You shake your head, almost delusional with the heat and want and the insanity of it all, “No! We can’t! We — we’ve gotta take care of it first!”

Zoro rolls his eyes, “It’ll get better if we just leave it alone —”

You shake your head again, laughing as he presses back in, slower this time, grazing his knuckles along the skin of your jaw, tilting you back towards him.

“It won’t,” you say, softly, letting him run a thumb along your lips, “but… if you let me take care of it. It will heal faster…” you trail off, letting the implications simmer beneath the surface of all your unsaid words, and it only takes a second for Zoro to consider before he lowers you to the floor and starts haphazardly gathering up his things.

You drag a hand across your lips, watching him.

“So…” you feel yourself blush as you muster up the words but Zoro scoffs, already impatient as he shoves his stuff into one of the larger lockers and slams the door.

“Mine. It’s closer.”

eight.

His, is — in fact — much closer than you’d thought. Only two blocks from the campus, and in one of the most expensive dorm buildings. You wonder how much he must be paying for it before you realize that he's on a sports scholarship, but you can’t even bring yourself to be bitter as he lets you into his spacious dorm, the giant living room scattered with game consoles and opened cereal boxes, leading to a short hallway that opens into his bedroom.

It’s cleaner than you’d imagined, with a set of light green linens drawn neatly over a full-sized bed, and two sets of pillows.

“Sorry for the mess,” he says, sweeping some energy bar wrappers into the trash from his desk as he tosses down his duffle bag.

You shake your head, looking around, your eyes catching on the thick volumes of fencing books, the endless stacks of sports magazines, the huge set of free weights on a rack in the corner by the closet.

“Uh… do you want a drink?” he asks, suddenly awkward as he scratches at the back of his head.

You turn towards him with a grin, “No. But I do want you to take off your shirt.”

Zoro blinks before he smiles and moves towards the bed, tugging off his shirt and tossing it to the side. You fight the urge to roll your eyes as he leans back on the bed, his perfectly tanned stomach flexing beneath the slanted desk-light as he watches you through lazily hooded eyes.

“On your stomach,” you say, your voice light and surgical as you open your own bag and tug out a tub of medicated massage cream.

Zoro stares for a second before the smile slips off his face to be replaced by a dull, knowing scowl. Still, he doesn’t argue as he flips onto his stomach and sighs, pillowing his cheek on his arms as he pouts at the wall.

“Like I told you — we need to take care of your shoulder first. Regionals are in two weeks. We can’t have you performing like you did tonight.”

Zoro attempts a glare over his shoulder as you carefully maneuver over his back and straddle his hips, warming your palms with the massage cream before setting to work.

“I still won.”

His voice is tight and petulant. You nod, sighing as you work your thumbs into the dip beneath his shoulder blade where you know he’s still sore. He hisses, jerking away from you. You pin him in place with your free arm and continue to roll your thumb across the bundle of muscle.

Two minutes in, you press a bit harder and he lets out a pitched whine that makes you pause in your ministrations.

“F-fuck —” he buries his face in his pillow, thumping a fist against his bed as you laugh and continue the massage, though taking care to be a bit more careful around his injury.

Nearly twenty minutes later, you climb off the bed and wipe your hands. Zoro groans, shifting to watch you with half-lidded eyes and color-stained cheeks.

“I know,” you say, holding up your hands, “that really hurt but you feel much better now, right?”

Zoro grins, sleepy as he blinks slowly up at you, “Yeah. Whatever.”

And then, a long moment later —

“Hey,” he says, his voice soft, flipping onto his side and shifting on the bed as if to make room for you, “stay.”

You freeze, almost unwilling to believe your own ears as you finish putting away your supplies. You glance at him with tight lips and hopeful eyes.

There’s a tiny grin threatening the corners of his lips as he sighs, making a show of yawning and stretching.

“It’s late… and I don’t really feel like walking you back.”

You fold your arms, “I could just call campus security to escort me.”

Zoro stills for a second but a moment later, he casts his eyes up at the ceiling, “Yeah… you could…”

You make no move to leave.

“But you still owe me coffee in the morning,” he says.

You frown, “Wait, what? How’s that?”

He glances at you, “I’ve bought you coffee twice.”

“Yeah, but I just gave you a free 30-minute medical massage treatment for your shoulder.”

“You would’ve had to do it anyway on Wednesday in Practical Applications.”

You narrow your eyes, “Professor Kureha might not have assigned me to you.”

At this, Zoro scoffs, “Yeah right. You’re the best, and so am I.”

“S-she might not have!” you say, though there’s no real conviction in your voice. You both know that he’s right.

“Yeah. Whatever.” He turns away from you, making as if to go to sleep.

You glare at his back, dropping your bag with a loud thump.

“If anything, you owe me coffee now. That massage was worth at least two coffees, if not more.” You plop down on the edge of his bed, scowling at the opposite wall.

Zoro is quiet for a beat too long and you chance a glance at him, only to find him peering you with a strangely indulgent look in his eyes. You blush, tearing your eyes away.

“How’s breakfast?” he asks, his voice once again going soft. Your skin prickles with heat.

“What about breakfast?”

“Coffee and breakfast. That enough to pay for the massage?”

You can’t help the smile that threatens to break across your lips as you glance back at him and catch his eyes.

“I…. guess.”

Zoro chuckles, the sound so low in his throat that it makes you shiver. Quick as anything, he reaches over to pull you down towards him, easily looping an arm around your middle and flipping you both so that you’re pinned beneath him. You barely have time to gasp before you find his lips on yours once more, slow and sweet and shockingly steady.

You kiss him back, letting him push you gently into the crumpled linens of his bed. His fingers are light as he slowly works your skirt down your legs, reaching behind your torso to loosen your bra and tug your shirt from you in a single, smooth motion.

You shiver beneath him and he pulls back to stare. You search his eyes, feeling suddenly uncertain.

“God, you’re gorgeous…”

Heat crests into your cheeks as you try to look away. But he tugs you back with his thumb and steals another kiss.

“It’s late…” he says, pulling away to press your foreheads.

You nod, chewing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, I know…”

“Let’s sleep in tomorrow.”

You laugh, shifting as he curls his body around you, tugging you easily against his chest and pulling the covers over you both. A moment later, the lights click off and you’re both thrown into darkness. You let yourself relax into his arms, wondering just how you’re going to explain this to Robin tomorrow.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Zoro’s voice murmurs into the nape of your neck.

You grin, nodding as you press further back into him and he grazes a soft kiss along your skin.

“That kinda thinking needs breakfast and coffee first,” you say, to which Zoro chuckles, nodding as he lets you hook your ankles between his, your bodies settling against each other, warm and perfect, the curves and bends meeting like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finally, finally finding each other at last.

You don’t have long enough to ponder on the light, musk-salt-sweet of his skin or the way you can feel his heartbeat as it threads along your spine or the way that somehow, the shape of him doesn’t feel foreign against the shape of you, before you’re already falling asleep. And to him, he doesn’t have time to ponder the lovely silk of your hair, just as soft as he’d always imagined, or the way your waist feels perfect beneath his hands, or how he’s somehow he’s always known the rhythm of your breaths before he too is falling into the warm embrace of a dark, sweet, restful sleep as well.

nine.

Saturday morning finds you both tangled in each other, the winter sun bright and cold as it slates through the slits of Zoro’s bedroom window. He wakes up first, shifting to stretch until he feels the weight of you beside him. And then suddenly, he's somehow achingly awake and aware of his body against yours, of your paced breaths and his own rapidly increasing heartbeat. For one bewildering moment, he can’t quite remember what brought him here, and then the scenes from the night before — the bout, the lockers, the kiss — the way you’d tasted, how utterly irresistible you’d been, blushing in the dim light of his room, your skillful fingers digging into his tender, swollen flesh — his own rash promise of breakfast and coffee — it all comes rushing back. Zoro lets out a long breath and leans in to brush his lips along your forehead.

You let out a light groan as you shift in his arms, and when you turn, it’s to find him watching you.

“Oh… hey.”

Your voice is quiet, almost shy as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and he finds himself more endeared than he has words to say.

He clears his throat.

“Morning. Uh… sleep well?”

You laugh, the warmth of your expelled breath ghosting across his clavicle in a way that makes him shiver.

“Mhm… pretty well… and you?”

Zoro clears his throat, “Yeah. Guess it wasn’t… bad.”

He resists the urge to roll away, if only because your cheek is still pillowed on his arm, and he can’t bring himself to pull away from you just yet. So instead, he drops his nose into your hair and takes in the milky scent of your coconut lotion. Tiny, pin-pricks of desire shoot through him, teasing goosebumps into the skin of his back and arms, but he forces himself to lie still as you snuggle against his chest with a contented sigh.

“So… breakfast and coffee?”

Zoro grunts, “Hn. I did promise.”

You smile, letting yourself sink into the thick and syrup of his sleep-deepened voice, his moss-green hair even more tousled than it normally is as he adjusts his head on his pillow.

“Hey,” you say, breathless as you look up at him beneath the sweep of your lashes, your eyes so big and dark and wide Zoro wonders if they might swallow him whole.

“Hey,” he answers, just as breathless, uncertainty creeping up the center of his chest as he stares down at you, lying in the glistening, mercurial light, the bend of your shoulder kissed by the morning sun, the shape of you limned in silver and gold.

You lean up to kiss him before he has the chance to second-guess himself, and though he was the more bold, self-assured one last night, you press in against him this morning, the languid sweep of your tongue along his lips making him groan, helpless, against you. He tastes the satisfied grin at the corner of your mouth as he opens his own, his mind frizzing into gorgeous, white static as you spend what feels like hours exploring the sweet depths of each other's mouths — all tongue and teeth and kiss-swollen lips.

When finally you pull apart, he is more breathless than he’d planned for, his body too warm for his liking, an urgent, pulsing something burning at the base of his stomach as he fights the urge to shove you back and sink his teeth into your skin, to hear you hiss, to make you gasp, to leave the indent of his fingers along the soft flesh of your hips and thighs, to mark you as his in every way he knows how.

But instead, he places a lingering kiss on your cheek and sits up, slowly stretching his arms.

“Careful…” you warn, pushing yourself up as well, watching him, “how’s it feel?”

Zoro tests his right side, drawing his arm up and then to the side, and then pulling it across his torso.

“Whoa… so much better.”

You smile, satisfied.

Zoro chuckles, “Guess I really do owe you breakfast. C’mon.”

He slips out of bed, tugging open a drawer to toss you a thick sweater and a pair of sweatpants. For himself, he only tugs on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, even as you frown, squinting at him from where you’re nearly swimming in his clothes.

“You’ll freeze.”

Zoro smirks as he looks you over, reaching over to pull the hood over your mussed tangle of hair, “Nah, I’m fine.”

You pout, jerking open the drawer to pull out a sweater and tossing it at him.

“You have to keep your right side warm so your muscles don’t just seize up again.”

Zoro stares at the sweater in his hand, looking reluctant before you press your lips into an exaggerated pout.

“C’mon… I worked so hard on getting it better last night… please?”

Zoro groans, rolling his eyes as he tugs on the sweater.

“Yeah, yeah — fine. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t wait for you, nor does he extend his hand. But the pair of you walk elbow to elbow, hip against hip down the bright dorm room hallway, into the chilly Saturday morning air.

“Geez, if you’re gonna yell at me to keep warm —” Zoro reaches over to tug on the drawstrings of your sweater, frowning as he notices how much skin he can still see beneath the opening of the hoodie.

You blush, tugging at it as the pair of you make your way across the empty campus quad.

Halfway across the frost-kissed lawn, he wordlessly reaches out to catch your hand in his, tucking your entwined fingers into the depths of his pocket. You bite back a stupid, dopey grin as you duck your head, quickening your pace to keep up, your footsteps crunching in the dew-bitten grass, the freshly raked gravel.

ten.

There’s already a decent line at the Straw Hats Cafe, but when the pair of you walk in hand in hand, both Sanji and Nami pause for a second longer than usual. Sanji’s eyebrows jerk up his forehead while Nami’s lips curl into a much too satisfied grin as she turns back to the humming espresso machines.

You savor in the smell of freshly ground coffee, absently tracing your thumb over the back of Zoro’s hand.

When you both reach the front, Sanji looks between you expectantly.

“Well, well, well — I’d like to say I’m surprised but —” he shrugs, grinning cheekily, “Well then I’d be lying, wouldn’t I?”

Zoro clicks his tongue but you shoot him a sheepish smile, pursing your lips.

“So… the usual then?” Sanji asks, his fingers poised over the register.

“Yep,” Zoro says, curt as ever, though there’s a distinct blush on his cheeks that not even he can write off as anything else.

You nod as well, “Oh, but… I think I’ll try a non-decaf latte this time. Just one shot of espresso though, please and thank you.”

Sanji blinks at you for a second before letting out a startled laugh and nodding, punching in your order.

“Coming right up, sweet cheeks. Right then, that’d be 8.75 for the latte and 5.50 for the double espresso.”

Zoro reaches into his wallet and pulls out a 20, slipping it across the counter. Down the bar, Nami is humming, looking cheerier than you’ve ever seen her this early in the morning as she goes about making your drinks.

Sanji sighs as he shakes his head, handing Zoro his change.

Zoro narrows his eyes but Sanji cuts him off.

“Take it from me, fam. You don’t wanna know.”

You and Zoro share a puzzled look as you both shuffle down to the pick-up counter, where Nami is sliding your finished drinks toward you with a bright, knowing glint to her eyes. Zoro clears his throat and reaches over for a packet of sugar, nonchalantly tipping it into his drink before picking it up to take a sip.

You try not to gape as you grab your own drink, flashing Nami a quick smile before turning to follow Zoro.

He picks a table as far away from the counter as possible, tucked into a corner, nearly invisible to the rest of the shop. When you sit down, he frowns at your chair for a second before reaching out to tug you across the floor till your chair is next to his. He goes back to his drink without a single word.

It’s all you can do to blush and stare at your steaming cup.

“I thought we were getting coffee and breakfast,” you say after a brief moment of silence.

Zoro grunts, “We are. Coffee first.”

You nod, somewhat mollified as you take another sip of your drink. The warmth trickles down your chest to rest somewhere in the center of your stomach, spreading heat throughout your body in waves.

“We could just get a chocolate croissant,” you say, giving Zoro a sidelong look.

Zoro frowns, tapping his finger against the side of his cup, “Dessert isn’t breakfast.”

You scoff, “Says who?”

Zoro’s expression flatlines, “Says me. And I’m payin’ for it.”

You purse your lips, wondering if you should argue more before deciding against it. A few seconds later, Zoro sighs, casting his eyes about the cafe interior.

“We can have a croissant after real breakfast.”

You giggle into your drink, swallowing down the glee fluttering in your stomach, threatening to spill out of your still kiss-chapped lips.

“Kay, whatever you say.”

Zoro rolls his eyes and folds his arms, but his elbow presses against yours and he doesn’t make to move away.

Across the cafe, Nami leans to watch the pair of you, Sanji at her side, looking both stunned and somewhat pained.

“C’mon man, it’s not even been a week!”

Nami grins, rinsing out a few cups and placing them mouth down to dry before pivoting on her heels and holding out an expectant palm. Sanji sighs as Nami’s eyes glitter with mirth and a hard-won glee.

“Right. I think you owe me fifty bucks.”

Sanji narrows his eyes, glancing back at where you and Zoro are tucked into the corner of the cafe.

“Double or nothing on when they’ll have their first fight. I say… not till next week.”

Nami’s eyebrows twitch up. She looks back at where the pair of you are now bickering over where to have breakfast. A smirk teases at her lips.

She puts down her hand, “Alright then… but like I said — it’s your funeral, Sanji.”

Over in the corner, there’s the dull scrape of chair legs as you push yourself away from the table to fold your arms.

“— Belgian waffles are absolutely an acceptable meal for breakfast!”

Zoro rolls his eyes, though there’s still an amused spark behind his eyes.

“Breakfast without eggs ain’t real breakfast. And doesn’t count if it’s smothered in syrup either.”

You make an indignant noise, frowning even as Zoro tugs you back to press a napkin to your upper lip, where there’s a faint line of whipped cream residue.

Sanji backpedals immediately, “Uh — right so, I feel like we need to define what really constitutes a ‘fight’, yeah?”

Nami tuts, shaking her head, “Nope! A bet’s a bet. Now pay up.”

feedback always welcome :) reqs are closed.

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months

Text

The Pathology Murders

Summary: When the reader and the boys stumble across a gruesome scene, they get the feeling that the monster they're hunting is of the human variety...

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 5,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, lots of mentions of gore/death, trauma, accident, fluff

A/N: This fic was inspired by this imagine (which makes an appearance in this one shot) and also by the horror movie Pathology!

________

“What the hell…” Dean and Sam looked around the abandoned house, pausing like you had when they got to the kitchen. Your boys weren’t wimps by any means. They’d seen some serious crap. Done some serious crap. But that kitchen?

It took Sam all of three seconds to step out of the room and upheave his greek salad from lunch.

Meanwhile Dean took it all in before his eyes landed on where you were trying to work the scene, fighting back another dry heave.

“You alright?” he asked. You knew he was concerned. You weren’t one to puke up your guts either. But the poor soul on the kitchen table, or rather what was left of him…twisted wasn’t even the right word for it.

“Not particularly,” you said, pointing at a glass jar that housed a pair of kidneys on the stove. “Not all the organs made it into jars. Pretty sure the liver is in the sink.”

Dean cautiously took a step inside, swallowing thickly. Unlike you or Sam, who had your own experiences with hell, Dean’s had been far more…interactive. Sam’s soul was battered around by Lucifer but it’d been more psychological than physical. You’d spent an unpleasant night with a hellhound in the same cage and while it hadn’t been fun, you’d been able to stay in a corner and out of harms way. Dean though…Dean had been sliced and diced and hacked and every other possible horror, imaginable or not. And then he’d performed the acts himself. You never blamed him for giving in, for breaking. You’d told him time and time again he was, and always would be, a good man.

Some days, more often lately it seemed the older he got, he seemed to believe you.

“Whoever did this performed an autopsy on this guy. While he was alive,” said Dean, leaning over the body to get a closer look. “Huh. Anybody see a heart around here?”

You surveyed the bloody room, finding more than a few peculiar shaped body parts but nothing resembling a heart. Sam finally made his way in, taking a deep inhale as he got used to the gore before him. “I got nothing over here.”

“Could be a werewolf,” said Dean, cocking his head as he straightened, brow furrowing. “Or a witch.”

You knew he wasn’t buying that though, neither of you were. You tore your eyes away from the search to watch Sam’s expression flare up with a strange look of familiarity. “Sammy?”

“I think a person did this,” he said. Dean rolled his eyes.

“No shit Sherlock. Someone used a knife or-”

“No, jackass,” said Sam, shooting Dean a harsh look for a brief second. “I mean I think this was a human, like an actual human. They were just talking about a cold case like this on a podcast I listened to during my run last week.”

“You and your fucking serial killer obsession,” muttered Dean. Sam’s eye twitched, the tension rising in the room. “It’s fucking weird, Sammy.”

“We hunt monsters, dumbass. How is that any different?”

“That’s our job. You don’t see me watching murder documentaries like a certain someone in my free time.” Sam got closer to Dean, Dean taking one to match, both boy’s jaws clenching.

“Hey,” you said with a snap of your fingers, the pair reluctantly turning towards you. “Dean, plenty of people are interested in cold cases and as long as Sam isn’t a serial killer himself, his hobby is fine. Sam, Dean just gets concerned that you don’t take enough of a break from hunting but he can’t come out and say that. So hug and make up. You’re on the same side.”

They both grumbled and gave each other a half-assed embraced but it made you smile regardless.

“So what’d your murder podcast say?” asked Dean, walking around to the other side of the cut open body. Sam’s face soured. “That good, huh?”

“They called them the Pathology Murders. A string of five victims about ten years ago that went unsolved. The killer performed live autopsies like you said about this guy earlier. The only lead they ever had was that the killer must have medical training, like a doctor, based on what they did to the victims. Oh, and all the murders took place in the Seattle area.”

“Which downtown is only twenty minutes from here,” you said, crossing your arms. “Was the heart missing at the other scenes?”

“I’m not sure. They could have skimmed over that,” said Sam. Your gaze followed Dean’s, his green eyes laced with uncertainty. “I can do some research back at the motel. You guys could check in with Seattle PD, see if the case files have anything useful.”

“We should double check that it’s not our kind of monster and if it really is a person-”

“We’re not working this case,” said Dean. Your eyebrows shot up, Sam’s face already frowning. “We do not investigate serial killers. Save it for the police.”

“Uh, what the hell is going on? You would never let a killer, monster or human, stay on the loose,” said Sam.

Dean’s gaze shot to you and quickly away, his eyes turning sharp as they zeroed in on Sam. You scoffed, Sam cocking his head in question.

“It’s because my mom was murdered. By a serial killer. Isn’t it, Dean?” Dean’s lips pressed into a thin hard line and you shook your head. “They caught her killer which you know. What does that have anything to do with-”

“You caught the killer, you did that,” said Dean, Sam completely lost. He knew your mom had been killed but not the gory details like Dean.

“Wouldn’t that be a good thing then?” he asked. “Y/N has experience with this sort of thing then.”

“Why don’t you explain to Sammy just exactly what you did to ‘catch’ her killer then, sweetheart. Go on. I’m sure he’d love to hear it.” You glared at Dean, feeling an unpleasant prickling in your eyes. Dean didn’t back down as you teared up though, instead focusing on Sam. “She let herself be bait. She let herself get caught by the son of a bitch. She almost died because she doesn’t see when she’s going too far with serial killers. The same thing happened on that Tulsa case five years ago.”

You could sense Sam had shifted very quickly to being on Dean’s side of this argument. You’d been young and reckless with your mom’s killer, barely a day over eighteen. That was years and years ago. You’d learned since then to use more sense. Tulsa…well your plan as being bait would have worked if your former hunting partner hadn’t been more focused on getting some ass that night than watching your back.

“Yeah, that’s how we met, Sam. Not working a case. No, Y/N was fucked and if I hadn’t been driving back from Jody’s that night and saw the fucking asshole grab her, she’d be dead. Wouldn’t you?” Dean snarled. You narrowed your misty eyes at him, Dean lifting his chin. “We will make sure this isn’t our kind of deal and if it is in fact a run of the mill serial killer, we are getting the fuck out of here, understand me?”

“I fucked up once. Once,” you breathed out. You swallowed thickly, wiping off your face with your jacket sleeve. “Just how many times have you been kidnapped Dean in the five years that I’ve known you? I’ve been taken once. You? How many times have I cut you loose? Taken out the monster with a knife to your throat? A gun to your head? How many times have you gotten lost in a case? Gone on a rampage? I never realized we were keeping score.”

Dean’s gaze fell to the floor, his hand running over his jaw, searching for the right words.

“Sam, go back to the motel and research. Dean and I’ll do the fed schitk and get the files we can. Whoever’s behind this, I’m going after them. You two can do whatever the hell you want,” you said, storming out of the room and out of the house.

“You look pretty,” said Dean softly a few hours later as you exited the motel bathroom in your fed suit, a light blue button down blouse with your charcoal gray suit jacket and pants. You ignored him as you dug through your duffel for your pointed black booties. Professional but also you knew for a fact you could run and fight in them. You growled in frustration when you couldn’t find them though, hearing Dean clear his throat behind your back. You glanced over your shoulder, following Dean’s gaze to where he’d set them down by the end of the bed.

“Thanks,” you grumbled, slipping them on and pulling up the side zipper. Dean was sporting his navy suit today, the one he looked extra hot in. You ignored that fact as you tucked your gun into the back of your pants, fixing your suit jacket over it.

“Y/N.” You sighed, giving him a look that you really didn’t want to do this right now. He took a long breath, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Sam quietly slinked out of the room into his adjoining one. Most of the time the three of you shared but when you could swing it, Sam got his own next door to give you and Dean some privacy.

Privacy you didn’t necessarily want at this moment.

“You do good cop, I’ll be the hardass if it comes to it,” you said, shoving your phone in your pocket. You tried to walk past him for the door but he caught your hand, stopping you after a few feet. “Dean.”

“I do not, and have never, thought you were weak. But serial killers are a blindspot for you. Sam and I both have them. This is yours.” He lowered his head, like he was fighting the words that were coming out.

To your surprise, he dropped your hand and stood.

“Be careful on this one, sweetheart.” He walked past you to the motel door, cracking it open and pausing. “We should get going.”

“You sure I’m not going to lose it? Get too carried away and get myself captured?” you said, unable to stop from poking back after his earlier insinuations. Dean’s shoulders rose and fell, one hand going to the doorframe to grip it as you watched the back of his head lower.

“Y/N, don’t you know by now I’m an idiot that’d rather lose you because I’m a dick than find you in the hands of some monster like whoever did that to that poor guy? Don’t you know I know you’re stronger than me? Don’t you think I realize how hard it is to be with someone like me?”

“You don’t stop Sam from doing dangerous things,” you said. “You don’t bring up the past to him.”

“Yes I have,” he said quietly. “And convincing Sam to stay in a motel room where it’s safe to research has never been hard thankfully.”

“You don’t treat me with the same respect though,” you said softly. “It hurts to know you never will think of me as being as capable as he is all because I’m your girlfriend.”

Dean shook his head, straightening his back. “You are more than capable, sweetheart. But sometimes…I just want to be a man that protects his girl. I don’t want to be scared of failing you for once…because if that monster got anywhere near you…”

You took quiet steps over to him, staring at his broad shoulders as they sagged.

“Eventually everyone I love dies or has something awful happen to them. Maybe I don’t say it the right way but fucking hell, all I want is for those things to not happen to you.” He spun around, green eyes full of worry. You nodded, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He squeezed them gently, the warmth of it pleasant.

“Our job is dangerous, Dean. We hunt the monsters, supernatural or not. I love you but you don’t get to keep me locked away.” You ran your thumb over his scuffed up skin, still healing form last week’s hunt. “That said…I promise not to get so angry if you promise to just say you’re scared for me. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, a flicker of a smile on his face. “I just have a bad feeling about this one.”

“Then we’ll be smart, okay?” You leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And don’t call yourself an idiot. I don’t like it.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he said. “Let’s go figure out what the hell is going on.”

Two Hours Later

“This guy’s a fucking psycho,” you said into your phone while Dean came outside with a bag of burgers and fries. “Apparently he sends the hearts to the victims families in a little box with a bow.”

“Sounds about right for a guy who cuts people open for fun,” said Sam on the other end. “I’m gonna pour through the records you just sent over.”

“Alright. Dean and I should be back in fifteen-”

“Why don’t you guys have a date night? I got this for a few hours.” You bit your bottom lip, Sam’s silence going on. “Come on, Y/N. You guys should talk about Dean’s protectiveness and your stubbornness.”

You wanted to argue that fact but sighed, closing your eyes.

“Any suggestions on how we find that line when our job is to hunt killers?” you asked.

“Maybe remember that he’s your boyfriend first, hunting partner second. Most boyfriends wouldn’t want their girlfriend near a serial killer either, no matter what their job.”

“Don’t have good points, Samuel,” you said as Dean took a seat next to you on Baby’s hood. “We’ll be back in two hours.”

You hung up and dove your hand into the bag of fries, smirking when Dean presented you with a chocolate milkshake. He grinned as you dipped the fry in it and tossed it back, giving him a big thumbs up.

“I love you,” you said, Dean smiling as he dug out his burger. “I always love you, even when we fight.”

He glanced at you, landing a gentle kiss on your lips in the next moment. He barely moved his lips, letting them linger instead. He moved back only an inch and nodded. “I was a dickhead earlier. All because I’m afraid of finding you with a serial killer standing over you with a giant ass knife again. I don’t know why I can’t just come out and say that shit in the moment.”

“Because you’re human,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist. “And you’re so much better at talking to me than five years ago. The old you wouldn’t have even been able to say that to me.”

“I try,” he said, letting you kiss him, your own a tad more forceful than his had been.

“That’s all I ask for,” you said, Dean’s phone going off at that exact moment. He sighed as he took it out, Sam’s name appearing. He tapped it onto speaker and took a bite of his burger. “What’s up Sammy?”

“Guys, I think I figured something out. All the victims were patients at Mercy West hospital back in the day and this latest guy? He was a patient there last week.” You and Dean shared a frown. “Yeah, I know. The cops investigated all of the hospital staff there back then but they never came up with anything. They thought maybe a doctor was behind it but he died in a car accident between the second and third vics.”

“It could have been him and he had a partner. Definitely is someone with access to records so they have to work there,” said Dean as you held up a finger. “What?”

“I could have sworn I’ve heard about this hospital in the news before. Something to do with a boat accident?” you asked. You heard Sam typing loudly before he hummed.

“Yup. They made national news about six months ago when seven of their medical students died in a boating accident. Explosion apparently when they got boozed up and had a bonfire on the boat. The bodies were so bad they couldn’t identify the remains,” said Sam. Dean took another bite of his burger and swallowed. “Already checking through the police files. Shit.”

“Shit what, Sam?” you asked, dunking a fry in your milkshake.

“Shit as in the boat accident wasn’t an accident at all. There was definitely an explosion but they found damage on the bodies indicating some injuries occurred before death. Like being carved up alive. They don’t want the public knowing the killer is still active in the area.”

“It’s gotta be someone linked to that hospital. Only question is why can’t the police figure out who?” asked Dean.

“Good question,” said Sam. “I’m going to keep digging, see if there’s a connection between the two we missed.”

“Thanks Sammy. We’ll be back in twenty to help,” said Dean, hanging up. He glanced at you, biting the inside of his cheek.

“This isn’t a monster,” you said quietly. “At least, it’s a human one.”

Dean polished off the rest of his meal quietly, the air still for a few beats.

“When you get too worried about me on hunts, you put yourself in danger,” you said, slowly sipping from the shake. His heated gaze was on you as you handed him the drink. “You have to trust that I’m strong enough to do this. Careful and capable. We both need to work on that.”

“Alright. But do me a favor? Stick close to me or Sammy on this one. You’re just…” You waited, let him find his words. He took the drink and finished it off, shoving the trash in the bag. “You just got over that shoulder injury. Your punches don’t hit as hard as normal right now. I don’t mean that in a bad way, just-”

“Okay,” you said, finding his hand, slipping yours inside. “Now let’s figure out who this bastard is.”

He hummed, letting go of you for a brief moment so he could toss the garbage away. You slid inside the passenger seat, Dean back and behind the wheel after the blink of an eye. Approximately ten seconds later you were pulling out of the parking lot and on the road, headed down main street and for the motel.

“So I was thinking this guy does autopsies on victims right?” said Dean, turning the radio down low on a soft rock station. You glanced out the window on the dark night, a rumble of thunder overhead. “But the cops can’t find him. Well, isn’t there someone that sometimes works at hospitals and for the police that would be able to fuck with a body after the fact and hide traces of their involvement?”

“A pathologist. I was thinking that too but wouldn’t that have been their first look? I mean they literally call them the Pathology Murders,” you said, waiting for the the light to turn green. “It could be someone that knows someone at the department covering for them. Stranger things have happened.”

“Maybe. I get the gist this guy works alone though. I only clocked one set of boots at the scene this morning,” he said, the bright green light illuminating the dark interior.

“Same. It’s absolutely someone associated with that damn hospital-” you said, Dean’s arm shooting in front of you in your peripheral. A millisecond later, something slammed into the right side of Baby, your side. Your lap belt tugged on you hard as your body lolled to the side, weightless for a moment before gravity reared it’s ugly head and slammed you down. Your head smacked something hard and it all went dark.

You could hear Dean asking a paramedic a million questions, not a single one concerned about himself. You opened your eyes to find yourself in the back of an ambulance, Dean lying on a stretcher beside you. He could tell you were awake and struggled to reach over to you but couldn’t. Instead he thrashed his head back against his pillow in defeat, straining against the straps that held him down.

“Sir, I need you to calm down,” said the paramedic as you blinked slowly at Dean. You knew something was wrong with you, with both of you, but you weren’t quite sure what that was yet. You struggled when you saw Dean upset. You wanted him to feel better. “You need to relax, she’s seeing you panic and that’s making her do the same.”

Dean stopped as he took in how your heart rate had skyrocketed, how scared you looked. He sighed and forced himself to stay calm. You saw him relax and heard him say it was okay. Neither of you enjoyed the feeling of being tied down, especially when the both of you were in plain view of one another and couldn’t reach each other. You tried to speak but couldn’t as you felt how raw your throat was.

“We’ll be at Mercy West in just a few minutes,” said the paramedic to Dean as you half-listened.

“No, take us somewhere else!” yelled Dean suddenly, fighting again. The paramedic sighed as you both started struggling once more. You didn’t have much of an idea of what was going on but if Dean didn’t want to go there, it wasn’t safe.

“I’m going to give each of you a sedative and by the time you wake up, you’ll be in your hospital beds feeling a lot better,” he said gently.

“No, don’t you touch her,” said Dean as you started to get very sleepy. The last thing you saw was Dean shutting his eyes as you finally remembered what had happened.

If Sam didn’t get to you soon, you were screwed.

Your eyes wearily opened under bright lights that made your head hurt. You winced and turned away from it, limbs heavy and still. Dean’s voice echoed somewhere, to your left maybe? You forced your eyes open again, Dean strapped down to a metal table with metal drawers behind him, the look on his face like he was screaming at you. You blinked, the ringing in your eyes loud and obnoxious, droning him out.

“Get up, fucking get up!” Dean shouted so loud you shook your head, a splitting headache cracking over you. “Y/N get out of here!”

It took only a moment to discover that unlike Dean, you weren’t restrained in what was most likely the hospital morgue. Something was wrong though. A sedative? No. You were becoming more alert if anything but your arms were growing more tired, head becoming too heavy to lift.

“Something’s off,” you tried to say, the words caught in your throat, unable to be voiced. Your eyes flared wide, Dean’s drifting past you.

“Someone took a long time to wake up,” said a voice to your right. Suddenly a hand was under your head.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” Dean snarled, your head set on a…stand? Something to keep it elevated and from rolling to the side. You tried to move but the message wasn’t getting to your body, your eyes glued on the handsome face with a just slightly off smile leaning over you.

“You were in a nasty accident, Agent Carlson. Unfortunately for you, your head trauma was too severe and you coded in the ER. Meanwhile Agent Manns in his grief unfortunately succumbed to his injuries. At least that’s what the autopsy report will say,” he said, inspecting what felt like a cut on your temple. “Such a shame. It won’t be my best work but you’re not the first law enforcement to cross me. Sadly no one will be able to discover your remains once you’re accidentally incinerated as John and Jane Doe but it’s good practice.”

“Let her go you fucking psycho,” growled Dean when the doctor moved out of view and returned with a pair of shears.

“Psycho? I’m Dr. Thomas, ER Trauma physician and part-time pathologist. I’ve saved far more lives than I’ve taken, Agent Manns,” he said, snipping through your blouse.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” Dr. Thomas bagged your shirt in a plastic bag nearby, doing the same with your pants and boots once they’d been removed.

“Paralyzing agent. Hard to come by but it has it’s advantages. No messy straps or ropes in the way,” he said, lifting your arm as you watched helplessly, cold metal against your skin as he cut through your bra straps.

“I swear to god I’m going to rip your spine out of your fucking face. If you touch her-”

“Not my style,” said Dr. Thomas, pulling away the fabric, sending a chill down your back. He gave you his focus again, a smirk on his face as he put two fingers to your neck. “Your heart is hammering away, isn’t it? Biology is fascinating that way. It’s so strange how an emotion such as fear can cause physical reactions in our bodies.”

“Get the fuck away from her!” shouted Dean. Dr. Thomas’ smile towards you dropped when he looked at Dean. He sighed and set the shears down, walking out of view.

“You’re really starting to irritate me,” he said, the distinct sound of tape being ripped from a roll filling the room and then Dean’s cries became muffled, only quiet thumping as he struggled coming from him now. Dr. Thomas appeared again wearing another smile. “Sorry about that. It’s always the men that get all squirmy. The women always live longer. Now, one could argue that’s because women have on average more blood in their bodies than men but I’ve gotten a fairly large sample size over the past decade to believe they’re psychologically stronger and therefore last longer.”

You tried hard to move your hand when he held up a scalpel near your face but nothing worked.

Fuck if you could move anything you’d be shaking harder than a tree in a damn hurricane. Dean struggling right beside you with a front row seat was not helping.

“Now I like to explain all of my procedures to my patients beforehand. While you are paralyzed to a degree, you will still feel things. That’s perfectly normal.” You were wide eyed, Dr. Thomas chuckling. “The procedure typically takes me around thirty minutes. However, you’ll die from the blood loss or shock after roughly seven so don’t worry about that aspect. Considering you were in an accident less than an hour ago, I suspect it’s more like four or five for you which is unfortunate for me but it is what it is. Perhaps Agent Manns will give me more time.”

He lowered the scalpel to your shoulder and dug in hard to the skin, dragging it inward towards your chest. Your scream was caught in your throat as he did it on the other side to match.

Dean was shouting and thrashing on the table beside you but you couldn’t even turn your head to look. Dr. Thomas started talking about incisions and procedures and then you felt something completely unnatural against your arm, another shout trapped in your lungs. Forget the brave face. You would have been full on wailing if you were capable of it.

Crack. Snap. Shudder. Rip. It was around the time that Dr. Thomas held up something dark red and sticky looking that your body decided passing out was the best course of action. Unfortunately, it wasn’t doing that for some reason and you were stuck on the edge of consciousness, terrified and wishing something would come along and smash your head in to end this.

A loud bang shot out and something heavy smacked your leg, something else skirting against your side.

“Dear god,” whispered Sam. Your eyes were locked open as you heard Sam rush over, staring down at you for only a split second before he moved to Dean.

That was not good. You were far more injured that Dean, somewhere on the verge of death if you figured. Sam would have stopped to help you first.

Unless you were beyond saving.

“Sweetheart,” said Dean, grabbing one of your blood covered hands in both of his. Fuck he was crying. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You were so totally fucked. He looked over to Sam, Sam staring back with an open mouth. They couldn’t fix this. Shit, shit. You were going to die cut open like a Thanksgiving turkey. “W-What about Cas?”

“Dean,” said Sam, an air of resignation in his voice. “He’s in Kansas.”

“Jack then.”

“He’s with Cas. He doesn’t know how to-”

“A spell, a cure, something! Take her upstairs to a fucking doctor!” shouted Dean.

“De. Half of her organs are…” said Sam as you got light headed, Dean’s hand running over your head. Dean found your face, his chin wobbling. “I-I don’t know what to do.”

“Then we sit with our girl,” said Dean softly, tucking a hair behind your ear. “And you fall asleep, sweetheart and when you wake up again, you’ll feel all better. I’ll come find you someday. Okay? Just close your eyes and try to sleep for me.”

Dean lowered his head, kissing your forehead as he fought back the tears that wanted to spill over. Sam took your other hand, squeezing it gently as you tried to do what he asked.

“Bloody hell, of course a Winchester took out a nutter like that. I’d have thunk he deserved more than a bullet,” said a familiar voice.

“Rowena?” both boys echoed. She didn’t respond though, Sam’s hand dropping yours as a flash of red hair moved in front of you. You stared up at her, her hands cradling your cheeks.

“Dean, let go.” He did and about two seconds later you were shot straight upright, body in one piece, full of feeling and horror as you wrapped your arms over your chest, looking all around.

“What the hell was that?” asked Sam while Dean shrugged out of his fed jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders, buttoning you up before he picked you up and was cradling you in his arms.

Rowena faced him with a hand on her hip, your own gaze falling down to where a dead Dr. Thomas lay on the floor, blood oozing from the back of his open head.

“Do you boys still not see me as a friend?” she asked, an undercurrent of hurt in her voice. You were shaking in Dean’s arms, clutching to his shirt with your too long sleeves.

“You’re the queen of hell. Why would you stop a death?” asked Sam. She rolled her eyes and approached you, resting a hand on your arm.

“Because I’m the queen of hell and I do as I please, Samuel.” You wanted to say thank you but all you could manage was a few jumbled words as you buried yourself in Dean’s neck. “She’s in shock, quite bad. Best to take her home and let her rest.”

“Thank you Rowena,” said Dean, walking past her, stopping near the entrance to the room. “Next time you need something, just let us know and we’ll help.”

“Of course. I’ll take care of this mess. Oh and Y/N, dear?” You managed to lift your head, grateful to find Sam was right on Dean’s heels. “This lad is going to be spending a lot of time on the receiving end of what he gave out up here down in hell. I promise you that.”

You nodded, giving her a thumbs up. Dean kissed the top of your head, his hold on you tight.

“You’re going to be alright, sweetheart. Just give it some time.”

“How’s that feel?” asked Dean for what felt like the twentieth time back at the motel. You’d showered, took another another shower, took a bath, took another shower and currently were wrapped up in a mess of Dean’s pajamas on the bed with a big towel in your hair.

“Better,” you said, your voice back with you once you’d gotten out of the hospital morgue. Sam was off relaying what he’d found to the local police. Apparently Dr. Thomas had worked on a few cases for the county but his sister it turned out was a hot shot detective who’d been covering for him for years. It was how he’d found out about you and Dean investigating.

Honestly that woman would be better off going out like her brother. She’d covered up a lot of murders for her brother. It’d be a miracle if someone didn’t take her out before then. Not that you particularly would mind that.

You patted the bed beside you, Dean taking a seat and pulling you into his lap. He removed the damp towel and nuzzled the top of your head with his cheek, strong arms wrapped all around your body.

“So we really nailed that whole careful thing, huh?” you said. Dean chuckled deeply, inhaling the scent of your damp hair, a pretty lilac and vanilla blend you knew he liked.

“How do you do that? Make me laugh when I don’t feel like ever laughing again,” he said, tightening his hold.

“Because I’m hilarious,” you said, closing your eyes, wrapping your hands around his forearms. “You might not understand this but what you said when I thought…you made me feel safe even when I was scared that was it. You were a guy protecting his girl tonight, even if it’s not the way you meant it.”

“Meant every word,” he whispered, breathing slowly.

“Don’t you dare fucking apologize for not stopping it. There’s no way we saw that coming.”

“Okay,” he said, draping his legs over yours, leaning back against the headboard with you. “How’s that feel? Comfy?”

You smiled as you rolled your eyes at him, tucking in closer. “I got you, Winchester. I’ll be alright. A chocolate milkshake and order of fries wouldn’t hurt though.”

“You’re hungry? After all that?” he chuckled.

“Yup. Ask Sam to pick some up on his way back,” you said, tilting your head back, kissing under his jaw. “Our date got cut short after all.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You couldn’t talk earlier,” he said, taking your hand, lacing your fingers together.

“I’ll have nightmares, I’m sure, and all the other crap we get. But right now in this moment, with you, I’m okay.” He smiled, holding your body against his.

“I love you so much. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Even if you do get kidnapped by serial killers.” You whacked his leg, Dean’s laugh rumbling against your back.

“Love you too, ya dork.”

_________

#supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #spn fanfic #dean spn #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot

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agi-ppangx · 8 months

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good morning (han jisung x gn!reader)

no warnings, just a soft, fluffy morning with hannie<3

an: as promised, this is my little gift for you as a thank you for 1000 followers🫶🏽 i wish i couldve done more for you because its such a huge milestone, but this is all i could muster in my current state and with the amount of uni stuff. i love you and thank you once again for being here and reading my silly little fics<3

soft, feather-like touches woke you up late in the morning. you pouted, suppressing a yawn as you opened your puffy eyes only to see jisung’s face mere centimetres from yours. his fingers danced delicately on your cheeks, brushing your earlobes in the process.

“sungie, it tickles,” you mumbled, blinking slowly as he smiled shyly, whispering a quiet “’m sorry”. you hummed, closing your eyes and nuzzling your face in the crook of jisung’s neck. he wrapped his arms tightly around you, carding his fingers through your dishevelled hair.

sunday mornings were your favourite things in the world. time seemed to stop then, letting you and your boyfriend enjoy the peace and quiet that you missed dearly throughout the week. living in a constant rush exhausted you, draining the last of your energy, so when sunday came, you were finally able to recharge in jisung’s arms.

“are you hungry?” he asked softly after a while, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. you pressed your lips to his neck, letting out a small “mhm” and he giggled. “you’re so cute when you’re tired,” he added, running his fingers through your hair again. “i’m gonna order something, okay?” he said, unwrapping his arms from your body, trying to reach for his phone, but you whined, clinging to him like a koala.

“don’t leave me,” you mumbled sleepily, throwing your leg over jisung’s waist and keeping him in place as you snuggled into his side once more. he laughed at your dramatics.

“i’m not going anywhere, silly, i just wanted to take my phone. where would i go anyway?” he chimed, angling his body unnaturally to reach for his phone with you clinging to his body. he came back to his original place as he successfully grabbed the device and started placing the order.

“i dunno,” you yawned. ”i just had a dream last night that you left me without a word and never came back. it scared me honestly. i don’t want you to leave me,” you whispered the last few words, pouting and jisung cooed at you, locking his phone and throwing it on the pillow next to his head.

“jisung in your dream must’ve been really stupid if he left you. he’s a complete idiot,” he said, dramatically gasping and it made you laugh.

“yeah, he was an idiot. i’m glad it was just a dream.”

“why?”

“because i would never let you go, dumbass,” you scoffed, poking his cheek. he smiled at that, capturing your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss.

“you wouldn’t have to, because i’d never leave you anyway.”

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes @minhosbitterriver @astraystayyh

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz han #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung fluff #han jisung stray kids #han jisung imagines #han jisung soft thoughts #han jisung soft hours

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jojissalsa · 10 months

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Dangerous Game (part one)

you get a new job as a federal agent for the F.O.S, and now you're stuck dealing with the reckless D.S.O agent, Leon Kennedy.

Warnings: dom/older!Leon, sub!reader, slight age gap (reader is in late 20s, up to y'all), dirty thoughts, masturbation (f and m). this one is fairly tame. kinda.

WC: 2.8k

an: hey y'all!! i'm hoping to make this into a 3 parter, felt like my idea is a lil too big for just one fic, that's why this one is probably a tad more tame compared my previous stuff. as per usual, critique, reposts and requests are welcome! enjoy <3 (minors do not interact, go touch grass.)

Working for the Field Operations Support is fairly easy, you got a nice seat at the front desk as the receptionist, you’ve worked there for a good couple of years. Nothing crazy ever happened, and everyone respected you pretty well. Especially Hunnigan. Well, Ingrid to you, Hunnigan to your coworkers. You always respected her the most, always envious of her job. You initially applied for her job, but you could take being a receptionist. You could live vicariously through her, since she seemed to like you the most in and outside of work. Hunnigan was always so sweet, giving you a pleasant smile and a morning chat whenever she’d come in for work, bringing you lunch as you two got closer. That also opened the door to lots of girl talk, mainly about how stressful the job was sometimes. Hunnigan loved her job, truly, but it came with heavy challenges. A very heavy one would be Leon Kennedy, a D.S.O agent she’s worked with for a majority of her career.

You’ve heard some of the horror stories from her about the bioweapons, insidious cults and rich white guys that try to carry on Umbrella’s work but fail miserably every time. This time seemed a bit different though, more final for her. “Honestly, the guy is an idiot sometimes. Likable, but an idiot.” You snicker at how nice she’s being for how pissed she looks, angrily sipping her coffee from the breakroom. “I think you mean he’s a lovable dumbass, but I guess that works too.” You chuckle softly, stirring sugar into your own fresh cup of coffee. “Hey, I’m serious this time. I mean, come on, I’m getting older.” Hunnigan watches as you sit down across from her, a worried expression starting to take over your features. “You really think it’s time to call it quits?” “Maybe not quitting just yet, just maybe looking over a different agent. Spots are starting to open up y’know.” Your eyebrows shoot up at that, trying to hide your excitement as you look down to sip your coffee. “Well, maybe I can take your spot? I’m pretty confident, and I’ve done all the training.” She shares your new found excitement, reaching out to put her hand over yours. “I’ll pull some strings, okay? I think we both need a change of scenery.” Her sweet smile never fails to spread to you, you can trust her. She’s been your best friend, if you’re being honest, and you’re sure she shares the same sentiment.

It didn’t take long for those strings to be pulled, and soon you were standing in front of the President and a few other important men in nice suits, watching as you shake hands and smile awkwardly. Finally, you get a briefing on the infamous federal agent you would be helping. Leon Scott Kennedy. He’s got a good reputation with everyone in the room, saying that while he may have an “eccentric” personality, he’s a hard working man, compliments all coming from the President. You heard about it from Hunnigan and a few other agents that he saved his daughter from a deathly cult, and brought it all down in the same day. You could tell from his file that he clearly worked a lot, even if he didn’t get this job on his own violation. Sucks that he was forced into his life, but it’s good that he’s making it work. Seems like a good looking guy too, at least from the small picture of him clipped to the folder.

And now you’re waiting for that good looking guy to walk into your new office, setting down a few knick-knacks you had on your previous desk. You turn your head to the sound of someone walking in, your eyes widening as they set on the man who seemed to be searching for someone. Good looking was an understatement of the century. The way his blazer fits just right on his biceps, his light brown hair and piercing gaze that just speaks "brooding loner", if you weren't at work you'd have fallen to your knees the second he made eye contact with you. You try to reel in your awe as he walks up to you, dusting off your clothes to make you look put together. "So you're my new babysitter? Y/n, right? I'm Leon Kennedy." Just the sound of his voice is enough to give you goosebumps, but your name from his lips is like a drug that gets you hooked instantly. And just like that, something flips in your brain, you are so not gonna be professional, how can you? How can anyone handle themselves around this man? You shake his hand as he extends it for you, and the feel of his rough hand from hard work sends so many dirty thoughts through your mind, like how good it would feel with his fingers on your neck, or his palm pressed against your tit, or how thick his fingers would feel inside you- chill out, play it cool.

"It's great to finally meet you, Mr. Kennedy, everyone has told me a lot about you.." You make sure to say it in a sultry tone to make it obvious how much you think he's attractive, and he sure as hell catches it. "Good things, I hope." He chuckles, giving you a sly smirk. Oh he knows. Fuck. "Oh don't worry, it's been all good things, promise. Though, I have heard that you made Hunnigan’s job a lot harder." You tease, looking him up and down and matching his sly smirk. Two can play that game. "Sure, but I get the job done, no?" The way he says it is so damn sexy you're sure he's doing what you're doing. "I'm sure you get a lot of things done with that attitude, Mr. Kennedy." You act like you're being sarcastic as you cross your arms under your chest, but you know how he could make you cum with the brush of his arm. "Only one way to find out, right?" That one makes your eyebrows raise, your smile widening as you blush slightly. "Is that an invitation?" You drop your voice slightly, leaning against the wall. The curve of your body sends a shockwave of arousal through him, and his eyes narrow on your figure. "If that's what you think I meant then by all means." He's so damn smug and it just makes you wanna sit on his face to shut him up.

"Is there anything you wanna ask me? About myself, the job?" You try to sound professional and not desperate, but you feel like it's helpless when you're looking up at him and he's so obviously checking you out, his eyes taking note of every curve on your body. Like he’s studying it for later. "I think I have a pretty good idea from Hunnigan and the President, is there anything you wanna ask me?" His question makes your eyes light up, but you don't wanna immediately ask him on a date. Classy, that's who you are to your core. "I can ask you anything I want?" "Anything." You smile smugly, lowering your hand to take his, clearly inspecting his ring finger as you bring it closer to you. "Do you have a girl? I don't see a ring on your finger." You say it in an innocent yet flirty tone that he so obviously gets turned on from, considering how he chuckles lightly as he shakes his head before taking his hand away. "So observant. I guess that comes with the job, huh? No, I'm single." Always such a tease, I guess neither of you can help that though. "Really? I have a hard time believing that." You have a faux surprised look on your face, all in the name of trying to get him to blush. You're getting close, you can feel it. "Is it? I'm an old man, what can I say." That one gets you shifting your thighs, biting your lip as you think of just how much older. What kind of experience comes with that age? "Old man, hmm? You ever thought of being with someone younger?" You step a little closer, just barely invading his personal space. "Haven't met anybody that can keep up." He says it so nonchalant, but fuck if it doesn't light a fire that spreads throughout your body. God, it's so hard not to say you could totally keep up, doesn't matter how long he'd want it. "Keep up, hmm? What, does this job give you a lot of stamina or something?" Your question makes him smile at you confidently, and it gets you oh so excited. "Well, I meant that most women don't like that I'm constantly busy, but if you wanna be dirty minded about it, be my guest." He totally stumps you, and it just makes you giggle and rest your hand on his arm, letting out a lil “my bad” before letting it slip away. You're slick, cause you honestly just touched his arm to feel how firm it was, and oh my god. Like diamonds, kind of hard. You can't imagine how fucking good it’d feel wrapped around your neck- there you go again. Snap out of it.

“You're pretty funny, you know that? I’m gonna have fun talking to you. For work, of course.” He let out a soft laugh at your flattery, loving how you tried to soften the thirstiness of your words with a joke. It's cute, you're really trying to say he's not hot. “Trust me, Hunnigan got very tired of my jokes.” You scoff, cause honestly, who could get tired of this guy? “Sorry, but she doesn't know what she's talking about, clearly you're an A class comedian.” You make it sound a little sarcastic, but he doesn't seem offended in the slightest. He loves a challenge. “Yeah? Aren't you a sweetheart? You love to flatter.” Your eyes widen a bit, resisting the urge to squeal and fan your hot face like a rabid fangirl, simply looking away to try and take a moment away from his hungry gaze. “I mean, it's hard not to, Mr. Kennedy..” You sheepishly give him that win, you’ll take it since he called you sweetheart, and in that teasing, cocky fucking tone of all things. If Cupid was real, you’d probably have a million arrows in your back right now. He parts his lips to reply, but gets cut off by his phone ringing, taking it out of his pocket to see the President calling. “Shit, I gotta take this.” He sighs, clearly wanting to keep talking to you instead. “It’s just Leon by the way, no need for formalities.” You get a smug smile again before he starts to walk back to the door of your office, walking with him to let him leave so you could wave him goodbye. “I’ll see you around, okay?” You nod, your smirk not leaving as he waits for you to say goodbye. “I’ll see you around, Mr. Kennedy~” You and your teasing, it's gonna throw him into cardiac arrest. He shares your smugness before begrudgingly answering his phone, looking back to see you waving bye at him with your dainty little hand. Like you knew he didn't wanna end the conversation.

He couldn't stop thinking about you all damn day after your little exchange, could barely focus on his briefing or look anyone in the eye. Even when he got home, knowing he had to wake up supremely early for work, he couldn't get you off his mind. You weren’t like every corporate drone the D.S.O hires, nothing like Hunnigan either. Bless the woman, but he would finally have someone to laugh at his shitty dad jokes. No wonder you got the job. You were drop dead gorgeous to him, not daring to come close to any Victoria Secret model. The way you giggle when you're nervous, how you sneak touches or how forward you are. God, it took every fiber in his body to not grab you and fuck you in a storage closet. Or against the wall? He just towers over you, he could fold you like a lawn chair and you’d take every inch. Fuck, how did his cock get in his hand? Who cares, honestly. He’s too busy spitting in his hand, too worked up to get anything better to help him jerk off. He groans, thinking of how good your soft, delicate fingers you used to wave at him would feel wrapped around his dick, whispering in his ear in that sexy voice you have. He feels chills down his spine when he remembers the way you teased him, how you didn't even say his name. Cause you didn't wanna give it to him yet, that satisfaction. Jesus, you're gonna kill him before any bioweapon does if you keep that shit up. His hand gets faster as his thoughts keep speeding forward, thinking about how good you’d sound saying his name. Not Mr. Kennedy, Leon. He has to hear it, has to hear you scream it when you cum on his cock. He needs to know how pretty you’d look when you cum, clinging to his arms, maybe even digging your nails into his back as your legs lock around his waist. So fucking hot as you beg to have him fill you up. He cums in his hand, spilling out of his palm and down his happy trail. He lets out a heavy sigh, catching his breath as he comes down from his high. He's not even close to feeling satisfied, even as he gets up to go shower again. He needs you, and he knows you feel the same. Hard part is gonna be getting you, without all the stress of what your coworkers would say.

You honestly don't stray too far from how he felt that night either. The second you closed the door to your office, you sat down and processed everything. It was a lot, seeing a man that fucking fine and not being able to drop to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. You were close to sprinting to a bathroom and taking care of the issue, maybe even slipping a hand between your legs and just testing the waters. Literally. He made you so wet, and you could feel it your entire shift, even as you walked to your car. You could only imagine how wet you’d get if he actually did anything. If he talked dirty? Him telling you to cum would make you do it on the spot, no question. Fuck, if he touched you? You’d be screaming like a damn pornstar, waking up the whole building when he slides his cock inside you. It's all you can think about when you get home, not caring to take a shower when you do. You just plop down on your bed and practically tear your clothes off, desperate for relief. Maybe that’ll save your career, fucking yourself thinking about him. So you do, pulling your nightstand drawer open the second you’re naked, taking out ol’ reliable. You can't count on your hands how many times this vibrator was there for you, it was way more reliable than your parents or therapist. Or you could be addicted to cumming, that too. But who wouldn't be? It's not your concern, especially if it's because of Leon. You wanna hear him say the most degrading, defiling, depraved shit in the world but still praise you for it, praise you for putting out so easily cause you're such a good girl. If fucking him with no hesitation makes you a slut, then you wear that badge proudly. That title feels even better when you start moaning his name, your toy hitting that sweet spot which makes you move your hand faster, needing to cum so damn bad. It feels so dirty in the best way possible, thinking of how firm his thighs would feel under your hands as you grip them tighter every time he shoves his cock further down your throat. You can’t imagine how fucking hot it’d be to hear him order you to grind your wet cunt on his boot, holding your hair so hard that you can’t help but push your nose against his pelvis, making your clit nudge against his boot again. Hearing that cocky son of a bitch tell you to cum would be like the devil coaxing you to join him down in hell, too sinful to imagine without having the real thing. It doesn't stop you from cumming on your toy, whining as your legs shake, turning it off as you heave out breaths. You’re fine if you think about him every night, it's good material for your shower thoughts. You’re more excited for his upcoming mission, making you all giddy as you get ready for bed. You're gonna be insufferable. Lucky Leon~

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon resident evil #resident evil smut #smut #older leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy infinite darkness

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doumadono · 1 year

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I am your annoying lil friend, so I also jump in yet another time with yet another request... but since we are celebrating… LET'S DO THIS!

❛ missed my touch that much, did you? ❜ in form of a little fic with...

Kiribaku x fem!reader :3 bc why not!

I can just imagine our poor reader missing her two Pros while they are away on a mission or something like this. After coming back, they have to make up for time they were away :3

A sultry greeting - Bakugo x Kirishima x Reader

Warnings: oral (m receiving), unprotected & rough p in v, dirty talking, Bakugo & Kirishima are aged up 21+, f!reader, bukkake, dom!Bakugo, boys kissing at the end Synopsis: after a long mission, Kirishima and Bakugo return home, ready to make up for their absence to you A/N: kocham cię mocno! I hope you'll enjoy ♥

MASTERLIST

You stood at the window, gazing at the starlit sky, your thoughts consumed by the absence of Kirishima and Bakugo. They had been away on a critical mission for the past few weeks, leaving you to miss their touch and presence dearly. Every night felt colder without them, and you longed for the warmth of their embrace.

One evening, your heart skipped a beat as you heard the familiar sound of footsteps approaching the front door. Rushing down the stairs, you flung open the door and saw Kirishima and Bakugo standing there. Their smiles widened upon seeing you, and before you could say anything, Kirishima swept you into a tight hug, lifting you off your feet.

"Long time no see, princess," he greeted you with a tender kiss placed to your cheek.

"Kiri!" you giggled loudly and looked above his shoulder at Bakugo who was leaning casually against the wall, smirking. Your heart swelled with happiness. You didn't realize how much you had missed them until that moment.

After getting inside your shared apartment and having a first decent meal in a while, they told you about their adventures and the challenges they faced on the mission. You listened attentively, feeling a mix of pride and worry for their well-being. As the night went on, the conversation turned lighter, filled with laughter and teasing.

Finally, after the dishes were done, you found yourselves alone in the living room.

Kirishima and Bakugo exchanged a knowing glance, and then Kirishima took your hand, leading you to the couch. The atmosphere became charged with affection and desire.

"Let us make up for the time we were away," Kirishima said softly, brushing his lips against your temple.

A faint "yes" escaped your parted lips. As your fingers firmly gripped the collar of Kirishima's shirt, you drew him nearer, and with intense passion, your lips met in a fiery kiss. Your tongue eagerly explored the space between his parted lips, igniting a fervent connection between you both.

"Hey! You've got some nerve, being all cuddly and sweet with the fucking Red Riot, ignoring me while I'm here, too," Bakugo growled, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms, approching the couch.

You laughed, knowing he was just needy. "You know I missed both of you equally, Katsuki. You're just as cuddly when you want to be."

His cheeks reddened slightly, but he didn't let his guard down. "Don't get any weird ideas, idiot. I'm not that soft."

Kirishima chuckled. "Come on, man, you are a little mushy at times."

Bakugo scowled at him. "Tch, whatever. I just missed her, that's all."

You leaned closer to him, smirking as you reached out and took his calloused hand in your palm. "Missed me and my touch that much, did you?"

He grumbled, trying to hide his smirk. "Shut up. It's not like I needed it or anything, dumbass."

But his actions spoke louder than his words. He took a seat on your left side and found every opportunity to steal kisses from you, his touch becoming more affectionate and possessive. Bakugo sometimes was yanking you out of Kirishima's arms, just to hold you a little longer in his strong arms.

Soon, you found yourself sitting on Bakugo's lap, leaning comfortably against his broad chest as he lovingly wrapped his arms around your waist. A low, affectionate growl escaped his throat, and you could feel his longing for you as he gently humped against you. Responding to his yearning, you pressed back into him and tilted your head, inviting the flurry of tender kisses that trailed along your neck, eliciting a soft moan from you.

With each open-mouthed kiss, Katsuki's hands caressed your body, hidden under the delicate fabric of your silky nightdress. One hand found its place on your breast, while the other gently gripped your chin, tilting your head back so you could gaze up at him. Bakugo leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. You instinctively parted your lips, allowing his tongue to take control of yours. His hand released its grip on your chin and joined his other hand in rubbing your breasts. As your nipples hardened and pressed against the fabric of your nightdress, his fingers immediately found them and tightened around them.

Kirishima sat right beside Bakugo, closely observing the scene while palming himself through his dark cargo pants that already grew too tight. "I'm here too, princess," he reminded as ne of his hands stealthily slipped beneath your nightgown and moved up your thigh. Kirishima chuckled abruptly, amused by the discovery that you weren't wearing any underwear as hi calloused index finger circled your clit lazily. "Oh, you little naughty shit."

Bakugo wasted no time in lifting the back hem of your nightdress, revealing your alluring ass that never failed to catch eyes. "You're such a naughty slut indeed, going without panties," he remarked while unzipping his pants. "Now, get rid of this tatter and on your knees."

As a compliant and dutiful girl, you adhered to Bakugo's order and gracefully vacated his lap. Positioning yourself before the couch, you began to undress sensually, swaying your hips in sync with the rhythm resonating in your mind, aiming to be as seductive as it was possible. As your nightdress cascaded to the floor, you gracefully sank to your knees.

Bakugo exchanged a glance with Kirishima, prompting them to stand up together. Subsequently, Kirishima proceeded to remove his shirt, and Bakugo followed suit. Soon, they shed their pants and boxers as well. Both men possessed impressive physiques, boasting well-built, toned arms and legs, accompanied by a sets of defined six-pack abs.

However, what truly captured your focus were their cocks. While they weren't fully erect, their impressiveness was still undeniable. You blushed.

"Oh, look, Kacchan," Kirishima mused, "our doll is blushing! Isn't she the cutest little girl?"

Bakugo nodded, running his tongue along his lower lip. "Indeed, she's an adorable fucking pet. I've trained her, after all, ha!"

You took their cocks in your palms and started pumping them. Soon, you leaned to Kirishima and slowly swirled your tongue around the head of his cock.

Kirishima let out a low growl, quietly uttering a string of curses to himself.

You continued to massage the head of his cock with your tongue, and moved your hands down to his balls and fondled them while stroking Katsuki's shaft with your other hand. Soon yet you let go of Kacchan's cock to take proper care of Kirishima. You could feel Kirishima's cock start to slowly harden in your hand and it only encouraged you to take on more. As you took the tip into your mouth, you let out a low moan at the taste of his salty precum. It sent a shot of heat straight to your core as you continued to lavish him in your mouth.

Bakugo firmly grasped a handful of your hair, pulling your head back. "Tch, remember, there are two of us," he growled sharply.

You instantly wrapped your lips around Katsuki's tip and slid your mouth further down the throbbing shaft, your lips stretching as your hand shifted down to the base of his cock and slowly pumped it. As you bobbed your head up and down, your spit began trailing down his cock. You came up for air and used both of your hands to jerk his cock quickly, making sure the whole length was coated in your saliva before diving back in and bobbing your head vigorously.

In the meantime, Kirishima slowly caressed his shaft with his hand, grunting, slipping his other hand in your hair, massaging your scalp.

"Fuck yeah, dumbass, sucking my fucking cock so good," Katsuki growled, slowly bucking his hips to facefuck you. He kept both hands on the back of your head, groaning each time he felt his cock press up against the back of your throat. Each time you gagged and moaned, he felt his self-control slipping even more. "Fuck yeah, cunt. That's it. Fuuuck!"

With a loud "pop" sound, you removed Bakugo from your mouth and shifted your focus to Kirishima. As you looked up at the red-haired man with your most innocent doe-eyes, you gracefully moved your head back and forth along his thick, already throbbing shaft.

"Yeah, such a good girl, just like that, keep doing those stuff with your sweet mouth," Eijiro growled, his eyes never left your beautiful face. He tightened his hold on your hair as you dug your nails into his thighs and forced your mouth forward, taking his full length in and holding your mouth down, gagging yourself. The feeling of your throat gripping his shaft and your lips kissing the base of his cock had his eyes rolling a little. "Fuck! M'gonna fucking cum!"

After a few seconds of this, you pulled back and sat on your knees, panting, appreciating your handiwork as you eagerly stroked Kirishima and Bakugo's cocks, smirking at them.

"Enjoying yourself, huh?!" Bakugo growled lowly and caught yur elbow, yanking you efortlessly up.He positioned you on the couch, on all fours, with your ass sticking up in the air as you rested your head on your arms that were gripping the back of the couch. He firmly gripped your hips and directed his rock-hard cock towards your dripping entrance, then eased into you with one powerful thrust. "Fuck you, bitch! So fucking tight!"

You gripped the back of the couch hard as Katsuki's cock pressed deeper into your needy cunt until his entire length was inside of you. He rapidly pulled back until just the tip was inside, then rammed it back into you, making you cry out his name. "Fuck, Katsuki!"

"Address me properly!" Bakugo snarled, smacking your ass hard enough to leave a handprint on the plush flesh.

"AH!" You moaned loudly. "S-sorry, Mr Dynamight!"

"That's fucking better, dumbass," Bakugo growled lowly, delivering few more smacks to your ass.

Eijiro positioned himself on his knees before you, his hands gently holding your hair as he moved closer, trusting himself into your mouth, which you willingly opened for him. As he pressed against your lips, your body inadvertently nudged back against Bakugo, leading to both of you emitting low grunts of surprise. "My good doll," Kirishima praised.

In response, Bakugo firmly grasped your wrists and pinned your arms behind your back, maintaining a raw, primal rhythm as he fucked you, shoving you forward on Kirishima's cock with each of his powerful thrusts.

Kirishima was letting loose all his pent up lust on your mouth, stroking your chin as he was slowly thrusting back and forth. "My good, little doll, just like that, suck daddy's cock like a good girl you are. That's it princess. Fuck you take us both so well. You're such a good girl."

You could tell they were getting closer. Their thrusts were growing erratic and their cocks felt like they were trying to pierce your insides.

As you attempted to speak, Eijiro withdrew himself from your mouth, asking, "What's on your mind, princess?"

"I want you both to cum on my face, pretty please?" After looking at Kirishima, you looked above your shoulder at Bakugo, making the most innocent eyes.

Bakugo let out a furious roar, but he still managed to nod as he withdrew his cock out of your abused cunt. "Switch, I want her mouth now," he commanded, casting a gaze at Kirishima.

Swiftly switching positions, you found yourself being taken from behind by Eijiro, while your mouth remained occupied by Katsuki's shaft.

"Oh my goodness, she's so tight!" Kirishima exclaimed cheerfully, gently rubbing your hips where Bakugo's touch had left some bruises earlier.

"Of course she fucking is, you idiot! We trained her diligently, after all!" Bakugo exclaimed, thrusting viciously into your mouth, gagging you with his throbbing length; the tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat with every thrust, making your eyes rolling back.

Bakugo, sensing he was approaching his peak, intensified his thrusts, gripping your head firmly. "Take it, take it, fucking cunt," he growled, relishing the sight of your teary eyes and saliva dripping down your chin.

You exerted maximum effort to pump your hand up and down on Katsuki's cock while sucking him off while trying to maintain your balance amidst the forceful thrusts delivered by Eijiro.

"Fuck, I'll fucking cum!" Kirishima reached around you and circled your clit with his index finger. "But I want you to cum on my cock first, princess, I know you can."

Kirishima's words triggered your orgasm, causing your insides to tighten around his shaft and your juices covered him in extreme wetness and slickness.

Both Kirishima and Bakugo withdrew.

You were nudged by Bakugo and managed to find find balance and kneel on your knees as the pair of men stood on both sides of you. You immediately reached out and started stroking their cocks furiously, using your juices and saliva as a lubricant to easily work their throbbing dicks. "Mm, yeah, suck Red Riot's cock, dumbass. Taste yourself on him, slut," ordered Bakugo.

"Yes, Mr Dynamight," you said before leaning over and engulfing Kirishima's cock between your lips, quickly bobbing your head up and down on him while using your hand to stroke whatever wasn't in your eager mouth.

"Holy shit!" Eijiro howled in pleasure as he gripped your hair. "She's about to make me fucking cum!"

Then, your focus shifted to Katsuki, and you teased his throbbing shaft with your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip until he got all riled up.

"That's it, bitch, suck my cock, suck it. Fuck, nngh!" Katsuki snarled, his head rolled back. "Fuck!!!! Cumming, cumming!!!"

The first rope of cum shot out and splattered across your face, followed by another that smacked you in the cheek and another that landed in your mouth as you sat there holding it wide open for Katsuki. His cum quickly sputtered out and you took the head between your swollen lips, sucking out what was left.

Just when you had finished enjoying your treat, your head was yanked away by your hair and you were forcibly turned to face Eijiro, who held his cock over your flushed face and stroked it as he came on you, groaning the whole time. Unlike Bakugo's load, which shot out in a couple of large spurts but died out pretty quick, Kirishima's cum came out in multiple, short bursts that painted your face. He used his hold on you to move your head around, making sure he got some of his cum on every inch of it. "Fuck, holy fucking shit!"

Suddenly, Bakugo firmly grasped Kirishima's chin, drawing him into a passionate and intense kiss. The kiss was electric, fueled by a combination of desire, and genuine affection. Their lips met with urgency, their breaths mingling as they explored each other with fervor. It was a passionate dance of tongues and lips, a display of raw emotion and connection. The intensity of the moment left them both breathless. Eijiro moaned in the heated kiss offered by Katsuki.

When Kirishima was done cumming, he released your head and you sat back on the floor, your back against the couch. Unable to contain your immense joy, you let a huge smile spread across your face, completely content with how your night had unfolded.

The two men collapsed onto the couch, each sitting on one side of you, and the trio panted heavily, still catching their breaths.

Kirishima rolled his head back, finding support against the back of the couch. "Damn, I'm so damn exhausted."

Bakugo let out a frustrated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Tch! Quit complaining like that, pussy boy. The night's still young, and we were gone for so long. We've got to make up for it now, you fucking idiot."

Kirishima let out a dark chuckle. "Yeah, I get it, I get it. Take it easy, man. So, how about another round?"

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anemptypuddingcup · 4 months

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Be my guinea pig.

W/ Trafalgar Law.

Trafalgar Law x Female Reader.

I really wanted to throw something a bit different onto the table. This one’s just a freebie and about a week of kinks filled with both the one piece character and Reader’s kinks.

I’m doing self-inserts for just both Law and Luffy! If I ever make this into a series, I’d wanna hear suggestions from you guys.

I’m still working on other things but and I promise Ima get stuff done. I’m a dumbass who’s horny and have plenty of writing/art ideas running through her brain.

Contains: Writing is organized differently in this series. Self-Insert. (Still referred as Reader). Reader and Law helping each other try out their kinks for a week. Asphyxiation kink. Praise kink. Somnophilia kink. Hand kink. Mutual Masturbation. Roleplay. Sensory Deprivation. There’s no oral in this, surprisingly- Fingering. Handjob. Lots of fucking- Reader is submissive in this. Literally a fic dedicated to Law bc he’s plaguing my brain.

“Oi. Can I talk to you about somethin’?” Law slowly walks up to you as he stared down at you sitting there on the couch. You look up from your phone and blink all cutely to him, your brows raising as you began to grow nervous about what he had to say. He sits down beside you and rests his body against yours, his body heavier and rather larger than your smaller and lighter body.

He rests his head against your breasts, his golden eyes peering up into yours as if he wanted to tell you something or maybe ask for something. You quirk a brow to him and set your phone down, your hand resting up against his temple and against his raven strands. “Is there something you want to ask me, Traffy?” You asked, staring down at him while he looks around all playfully.

“Well…Yeah. There is something I wanna ask you.” He responded, his eyes peeking away from yours as to avoid contact with your eyes and advert his gaze. You hum out and paused, wanting to hear him out as curiosity brewed from your mind. “What is it Law?” You asked him, now growing a bit impatient as he left you waiting.

He sighs out before finally asking his question to you, a groan leaving him as he began his sentence. “Would you wanna…try out some of our kinks? I know it’s a sudden question but…I wanna explore and stuff…” He says, struggling to get the last of his sentence out as he grew kinda nervous for your response. You smile at his question and your mind began to roam around deep in your thoughts.

Law never did specify which kinks he had, and neither did you. Maybe it would be nice to explore and see what kind of kinks you both could have.

“I’m fine with that…I’m sure mine are…more subtle than yours though…” You say, a nervous chuckle leaving you as you whispered those words. Law smirks and lifts his head from your breasts, his hands groping them and making you gasp out suddenly.

“I’m fine if your kinks are as vanilla as can be, it’s all about enjoying them together no matter how tough~” He whispers to you, his eyes piercing deep into yours and making your heart flutter and pound against him. “We’ll start next week. That is, if you can handle that before then.” He teased, his smirk on toy turning you on even more while you watched his fingers play at your soft mounds through the fabric of your shirt.

You sigh out shakily and sit up a bit trying to pull away from him but causing him to follow and slide his hands up underneath your shirt. You mewl out and shut your eyes softly, sighing out as your hands press against his. “Q-Quit touching me! Y-You said next w-week didn’t you?~” You gasp out, shuddering at the feeling of your nipples running in between his fingertips.

“Maybe I’m the one who can’t wait~” He chuckles, adoring how sweet your voice sounded while he played and teased at your body.

☆ ☆ ☆

Day 1: Asphyxiation.

His hand reached out and quickly got a tight hold on your neck, your hands uncontrollably clawing and gripping at his wrist as a natural response while he choked you as if he genuinely hated your guts. Weak yet choked moans struggled to leave your throat as you winced and looked up at him, one of your eyes closed while the other stared down at his cock sliding deep inside of you.

As much as you adored feeling him deep inside of your sticky and needy cunt, part of you didn’t expect him to start strangling the life out of you this hard. You whimpered and kicked a bit, your legs frantically kicking about as you whined for him to release his grip on your throat.

“Do we need to stop, sweetness? You don’t look too pleased…” He asked you, quirking a brow as he watched you squirm and wriggle beneath him. You shook your head and mewled out, trying to endure it a little while longer for him while he grows more aroused by your facial expression. He tried to stay patient with you and he gained arousal just from watching you struggle to breathe beneath him alone. You cry out and arched your back, your feet sliding along the sheets as you tried to pull away from his grasp.

Your eyes began to roll up and flutter, your body losing it’s needed oxygen and causing your body to begin fluttering in and out of consciousness.

That ,in return, causes him to stop immediately.

“Alright alright, enough. I don’t wanna hurt you anymore by taking this further…” He sighed out, his hand releasing your throat and allowing you to inhale deeply. You coughed a bit and he peppers a few kisses to your neck, apologizing for hurting you or at least choking you so aggressively. “Well, it was good while it lasted. I don’t want you to push yourself past your limits. Prolly woulda actually caused you to faint if I kept going.” He says softly, his hand pressing against your temple while he combed through your strands.

“M-M’sorry…I-I’m sorry…Traffy…” You apologized to him, wiping away the light tears that brewed at your eyes due to the asphyxiation. His fingers played at your cheek, caressing it softly while he sighs out all lovingly to you and your adorable face. “Don’t apologize baby, it’s not your fault…We can go soft for you if we need to okay?” He says, smirking to you and reassuring you so sweetly. His soft tone of voice followed by his little smirk causes your heart to flutter and you whine out before wrapping your arms around him.

“It’s okay, there’s no need to apologize for something as silly as this sweetheart~” He whispers to you, his body rising above yours before he continues thrusting his hips into yours. You whine out to him and stared up into eyes, still upset that you couldn’t last very long for him. He sighs out and peppers more smooches to the soft skin of your neck, making you moan out while he chuckled.

“Here, if you wanna try again…This time we’ll start with less pressure. Okay baby?”

“O-Okay…”

He slowly wrapped his hand around your neck, squeezing hard but not hard enough to the point where you were uncomfortable. He stared down into your eyes as he continued fucking you, thrusting his hips a bit harder into you while you moan out to him in pleasure. You bit your bottom lip as you enjoyed the slight lightheadedness spilling into your head, the very slight lack of oxygen causing the pleasure the be stronger.

“Mmmgh~ Traffyy~” You moan out to him and he smiles, pressing his lips against yours while he rolled his hips into yours, his tip kissing your g-spot so deeply.

Day 2: Praising and slight daddy kink.

“Such a good girl for me, do you like it when I play at your pussy like this?”

You mewl out sweetly to him, watching as he palmed at your slit and slid his fingers through your folds repeatedly. “Mmmhh~” Your toes curled and your brows furrowed from the pleasure, a soft whine leaving your lips while you watched him play with your body as if it was some type of toy. Your back was up against his chest and you were sitting in between his legs while he went to work on you. “Cmon baby girl~ Answer daddy. Aren’t I making you feel good?~” He asked you, his tongue trailing along the soft skin of your neck while you gasp out shakily.

“M-Mhmm~ I-It feels- so g-good Traffy~” You moan out for him, arching your back before you gasp out suddenly at the feeling of his fingers sliding past your entrance and going deep inside of your cunt. He smiles and presses his lips against yours, his chest up against your breasts while he fingered your pussy. He thrusts his fingers in and out to your warm velvety walls, his fingertips occasionally curling up and kissing your sweet spot while his fingers massaged your walls.

“You’re doing so good for daddy, Taking his fingers in so well like this~ Your pussy is stunning fluttering around my fingers like this~” He groans out, his cock hard and throbbing as he thrusts his fingers faster into your pussy. Your moans made him hard as well, with how sweet your voice sounded it was practically hard to keep himself composed.

“Ohhh Traffy~” You gasp out, shutting your eyes softly as you felt yourself yearning to cum just from his voice alone if his fingers weren’t buried deep inside of your pussy. The sound of his fingers going deep in and out of your pussy repeatedly made you shudder before moaning out loudly against him. “That’s right, let your voice out. Keep letting your voice out like my good baby girl~” He whispered, his eyes staring down deep into yours while you shudder and gasp out in response.

You began to feel his fingers thrusting faster, and you can’t help but to cry out and tighten up around his thick digits. The way his fingers kissed your sweetest spot made you curl up and whine out against him.

“Fuckkk~ Traffyyy~”

“If you cum on my fingers daddy’ll fuck you with his thick cock. That’s if you cum on daddy’s fingers like a good girl. Alright princess?”

“Y-Yes daddy~”

“Good girl~”

You whimper out all sweetly and looked away from him, arching your back while you relished in the feeling of his digits ceiling and digging deep inside of you.

“My cute baby girl, you’re taking them so well~ You want daddy to go faster?~” He asked, his lips nipping at you ear while you gasp out all shakily from his voice and fingers. “Y-Yes!~ Y-Yes please!~” You responded all angelically to him, your eyes rolling up as you felt your cunt tightening around his thick digits.

“Yes what, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes daddy~”

“Good~ Fuck you’re such a good girl~ Always obedient and sweet for daddy~ You love it when daddy praises you don’t you?”

“Mhmmm~ I-I love it so muchh~”

His fingers began to curl up and nudge hard against your sweet spot deep inside your pussy and you moan out shakily, struggling to hold yourself back much longer. Your back nearly arches up off of Law’s chest as you moan out loudly, your mind practically melting from his words and his praising.

“Mmgh!~ Fuck!~ I-I’m so close to creaming Traffy!~” You gasp out, your arm resting against your temple while the other hand gripped the sheets beneath your body. “Yesss~ Fuck yes princess~ I want you to cum on my fingers~ Cum for me princess~”

Day 3: Somnophilia.

The sound of your snores filled Law’s ears as his body hovered over yours, his eyes watching as your back rise and fell with ease. You were breathing steadily and Law stared down at your vulnerable body, staring as it rested and built up its energy for the following day.

He sighed out shakily and traces his fingers along your slumbering body, noticing as it twitched from the slightest touches his tough fingertips provided to your soft skin. “God, so fuckin’ perfect~” He moans out to you, basking in the lack of response your sleeping body provided to him.

Law softly stroked his cock as he pressed kisses against your skin, his lips sucking on your skin and leaving dark marks against it while his eyes slowly looks down to your sleeping face. You moan out sleepily and tried to roll over but Law’s hand kept you in place and prevented you from flipping over onto your back. He hissed out before placing his cock against your sticky entrance, surprised that your pussy was wet even though he hadn’t done much to your body.

He slowly slid his cock into your pussy, gasping out at how tight and warm your walls were. Your pussy was practically welcoming him deep inside even though you were asleep and unresponsive. Your pussy encased his cock in a comforting warmth and pleasure, a heavy yet quiet groan leaving him as he slowly began to move deep within your pussy. Your moans were soft and quiet as Law fucked your pussy softly and steadily, making sure to not go as rough as to wake you up.

“God, your pussy’s so fuckin’ good~ Keep squeezin’ me like that, y’hear?~” He gasps out, throwing his head back while his mouth hung open in ecstasy. His thrusts began to grow faster but he stayed steady, his hands softly holding your hips while he thrusts his deep and yet steadily into yours.

He sighs out shakily and quickly covers his mouth with one hand, muffling his groans while he fucked your all needily.

“Your pussy’s so heavenly when you’re asleep~ Your pussy’s always so heavenly for me~”

You moan out shakily beneath him, your face unconsciously twisting and contorting at the sweet feeling of his hot and thick cock deep inside of your sleepy pussy. He hissed out and winced in pleasure, his eyes rolling up as his hips began to unconsciously fuck hard into your hips.

He sighs out heavily, his hands gripping your hips tightly before he pulled you back into his cock. You mewl out sleepily and crack an eye open, a moan automatically spilling past your lips as the pleasure suddenly hits you like a brick. “Mmgh~ Oh~ T-Traffy~” You moan out shakily, your hands gripping your pillow while you squeezed around his length.

Law’s eyes widens and he immediately froze, suddenly feeling the weight of guilt fall onto him for interrupting your rest.

“Fuck I woke you up…I-I’m sorry baby~”

“I-It’s okayy Traffyy~ Just please keep fucking my pussy like this~”

“Of course I fuckin’ will~”

He thrusts his hips hard and sharp into your cunt, causing a loud and groggy moan to spill past your lips while he groans out heavily above you. The sound of his hips slapping against yours made your face turn a deep shade of red while your pussy fluttered around his thick length.

“M’gonna fuck you back to sleep baby~ Want me to fuck you back to sleep, yeah?~”

“Yess Traffy, please fuck me back to sleep~ Need your cock to fuck me to sleep~”

Day 4: Hand Kink.

“How do my hands feel against your breasts? Feels good?”

You gasp out all shakily against him, your head resting against his shoulder while he played at your breasts as if they were squish stress toys. “M-Mhmm~ Feels s’nice Traffy~ Please, touch them more~” You pleaded, moaning out all shakily while your hands pressed against his. He chuckles and slide his hands down along your skin, your body trembling against his fingertips as you enjoyed the sensation of his fingers trailing and touching against your body.

His cock twitched at your entrance, making you squeak out while he chuckles in response. “So cute aren’t you?” He hisses out, biting his bottom lip as his hands ran between your inner thighs. You whine out and threw your head back, the feeling of his fingertips against your body making you grow needy and yet so soaked from his touch.

“P-Please~ T-Touch me more Traffy~”

“As you wish baby~”

His hand cups your pussy and he chuckled, feeling how sticky and soaking you were against his rough fingers. His fingers flicked at your clit and you couldn’t help but to mewl out and turn away in pleasure. He played at your slit and clit, a soft sigh leaving him as he felt you tense up against his fingers. His fingers slowly slipped past your entrance and deep inside of your pussy, his fingers nearly kissing your sweet spot immediately.

You cry out in pleasure and watched as his digits plunged deeper inside of your pussy.

“You love my fingers don’t you? Your hand kink is just shooting through the roof isn’t it? You naughty fuckin’ girl~” He continued to tease at you, making fun at the fact that you couldn’t help to be turned on by his hands and fingers. You whine out and pouted to him before your face contorts in arousal, a gasp leaving you while your pussy continued to suck his fingers in.

“You like it when I fuck your pussy with my fingers eh? Maybe you like my fingers more than my cock. You cream more easily from my hands alone~” He shoved his fingers deeper into your pussy and you groan out all shakily, your toes curling while you threw your head back from his fingertips nudging deep into your bundle of nerves so lovingly.

“Come on! Fucking tell me that you like my fingers deep in your pussy.”

“Fuck T-Traffyy~ I-I love it~ Keep fucking my pussy with your fingers!~ I-I’m so fucking close!~”

“Gonna cream? I’m not stoppin’ until you fucking squirt on my fingers. I ain’t gonna stop until you’re soakin’ the fuckin’ sheets.” He huffs out shakily as he watched you melt within his arms, his wrist beginning to ache as he thrusted his fingers faster and deeper into your pussy.

“Gonna cum baby? Hmm? You ‘bout to cum on my fucking fingers?~”

“Yes! Yes!- Fuck- Fuck Traffy!~”

“I wanna feel your juices soaking my fucking hand.”

Day 5: Mutual Masturbation.

Your fingers thrusts into your pussy all needily, your hips lifting up off of the bed as you tried your best to reach the sweetest spot deep inside of your pussy. Law was watching you, breathing heavily while he stroked at his shaft rather fast and hard. He couldn’t help but to chuckle at your desperation, watching as you struggled to fuck yourself with your fingers and whine out all irritably.

He moves your fingers away and you gasp out before whining out, your body squirming at the unconscious heat brewing within your core. He shoved his fingers deep past your entrance and your eyes widens from the harsh thrust of his fingers against your sweet spot, mewling out as you enjoyed the feeling of his thick tatted fingers deep into your pussy. His fingers had immediately kissed your bundle of nerves, making you see stars whilst he adored your shocked expression.

“Oh!~ T-Traffy!~” You moan out his name and watched as he stroked himself with his other hand, multitasking yet focusing more on your pleasure rather than his own. You struggled to get closer to him and when you do, you move his hand away from his cock which makes his brows raise in slight surprise. You climb up onto his lap and stroke his cock, going at the same pace his fingers were going deep inside of you.

He hums out shakily and pressed his hand you moved from his cock onto your hip, holding you in place while he continued fucking with with his fingers. You jerked his cock quickly with your smaller hand, the feeling of his heat in your hand making you grow hotter against him. He hissed out shakily and pressed his lips against yours, his fingers going faster inside of your pussy while you fucked his cock faster with your hand.

“Fuck baby, your fuckin’ hands are gonna make me cum already~” He groans out into your lips, his eyes glancing down and watching as your hand fucked his cock. His fingers curls up inside of you and you mewl out shakily, his fingertips nudging up hard against your g-spot and making you whine out while you moved your hips in even more.

You wrap another hand around his length and made your gestures more pleasurable for him. Your motions grew faster around his length and he moans out heavily, his eyes shutting softly and his brows furling while he breathes out lengthily. You could feel his thick length twitching in your hands while he felt your walls tightening and pulsating around his fingers. “P-Please~ Cum with me Traffy~ I-I’m so close to cumming~” You gasp out shakily, looking up into his golden eyes while he stares at you with his half-lidded and lust-filled pupils.

He wraps his arm around your waist and thrusts his fingers into you faster, his palm occasionally rubbing against your clit which added more pleasure to your cunt. Your fingers played at his tip while your moved your hand in circular motions while jerking his cock, his foreskin continuously folding up to the underside of his tip with every motion of your hand.

His nails clawed at your side and he presses his lips against yours once again, a moan leaving both of your lips as your body shuddered against each other. “Mmhh~ Fuck~ Fuck Traffy!- I’m cumming!~” You gasp out shakily and shut your eyes tightly before you threw your head back, your pussy gushing and squirting out onto his palm.

“Hah!~ F-Fuck baby! F-Fuck-“ Law groans out and rests his head against your shoulder before groaning out loudly, a few heavy breaths leaving him as he ejaculates out onto your hand. A bit gets out onto your tummy and breasts and you moan out at the warmth of his thick seed kissing your skin. He sighs out exhaustively and nuzzles his face into your neck, burying himself into your skin while you mewl out in relief and ecstasy against him.

Day 6: Roleplay. I’d imagine that Law has some sort of medicine or drug to help make your appearances feel more natural and real. Dude is a surgeon after all-

“Such a cute little cow~ You ready to be milked by daddy?~ Don’t you have so much milk to offer for daddy?~” His hand played at your breasts within the cow-printed bikini, pulling at the straps that held your breasts up while you blushed deeply and covered your face out of embarrassment. You whimpered in response and looked up at him with your cutesy little eyes, staring at him who had nothing but just bull horns and ears on the sides of his temple.

Good god, couldn’t he just buy some costumes instead of doing some experiments with potions and such.

His tail had swayed as his eyes trails down your body, admiring for just how beautiful it really was to him. Pressing smooches against your skin, he chuckled and looked up at you while you stared down at him.

You were still nervous but- he was going to break you out of that.

“Cmon, don’t be shy with me. You love this don’t you, my precious girl?~” He asked, his hand cupping your face and squeezing your cheeks while he pulled your face closer to his.

You shuddered and whine out in response to his words, your pussy squeezing and pulsating around nothing but air as you listened to him and his arousing voice pleasing your ears. You pouted and looked away all anxiously before sighing out. “M-Mhmm…” You responded shakily, a sigh leaving your lips as you looked up at him. He smirks down at you before revealing his cock to you, his length twitching and just leaking with sticky pre.

You mewl out and spread your legs to him, revealing your bare cunt to him while he sighs out hungrily and stared down at your soaking slit. He watched in awe as you slowly spread your folds open to him, revealing so much of yourself and making him even more feral than he already was. “P-Please~ Milk me daddy~ M-Moo mooo…” You say so hesitantly, your eyes peering away from him while your face burned a deep shade of red.

He could tell that you were oh so anxious, but if he had to be honest with himself…that made it so much fucking better.

He hissed out and pressed his tip against your pussy, groaning out all hungrily before he’d shove himself deep inside of your cunt. You gasp out at the hard yet swift thrust, your teeth nipping at your bottom lip while you watched him begin to thrust inside of your pussy.

“I’m gonna milk you for everythin’ you’ve got baby girl~”

You moan out loudly and held on tight to your pillow, the bed rocking vigorously as Law gave you deep and rough thrusts deep inside your pussy. The way he fucked you felt so animalistic, it was as if he wanted to breed you and milk you for everything you had deep inside. His thrusts were slowly making you fall into the role of a submissive little animal, your toes curling up tightly while his cock smooched the hell out of your bundle of nerves.

Moans spilled from your lips as you threw your head back and arched your hips up into his, your body begging him to just pull you in and fuck you like the animals you were. His knees dug deep into the mattress, sliding against the sheets while he focused on fucking your pussy intensely. You moan out against his heavy body, looking up at his golden eyes while he stared down at you intensely.

He bends down and gives you a sloppy kiss, his arms wrapping around your body as he pulls away and trailed his sticky lips down to your breasts. He pops one of your nipples past his lips and into his mouth, suckling on it rather hard as if he was genuinely trying to get milk out of it. You gasp out loudly yet heavily and moan out shakily against him, your hand pressing against his temple and running though his soft raven strands.

Your eyes rolled up far and you were gasping for air and trying to endure the pleasure while he fucked you like there was no tomorrow. You drooled out onto your pillow, enjoying the deep and hard thrusts he was feeding to you.

“P-Please fuck me more!~ M-Milk me daddyy, m-milk and b-breed my pussy for all its w-worth!~”

“My, you’ve gotten feisty haven’t you?~ If that’s what you want, then daddy will make it happen~” He chuckle breathily, his tongue sliding along your areola and nipples before he’d suckle on it fully.

He groans out shakily and his cock twitches deep inside of you, already indicating that he was close to cumming. He pulls his lips from your breast with a slight pop before he’d focus back on his pleasure and yours.

His grasp grows tight on your hips and he thrusts his hips harder and faster inside of you while you’re gasping and crying out in ecstasy. The headboard hits against the wall while Law throws one of your legs up onto his shoulder, huffing out heavily as he used your body to chase after his high so aggressively.

“S-Shit! Shit!~ M-M’cumming!~” He moans out loudly and lowers his lips down into yours and smooches you deeply, his moans muffled by your lips while he finally releases deep inside of you. His thick seed spurts deep inside of you and you moan out loudly into his lips while your squirt out around his cock and onto his lower abdomen, your tail wagging with delight before it fell flat onto the sheets.

He pulled his lips away from yours, a string of your shared saliva tearing from both your lips while you huff out all shakily and yet slightly broken. Law chuckled at your broken state and pulls you up into his arms, his eyes piercing into your tear-filled ones.

“Don’t think I’m done yet. Didn’t I say I was gonna milk ya? The effects of the potion haven’t even worn off yet.”

Day 7: Sensory Deprivation.

“Ahhh~ Mmgh T-Traffy!~”

“Just keep that blindfold on and stay focused on my touch and voice baby.”

Your body squirms around uncontrollably while you relished in the feeling of Law’s cock deep inside of you. Not being able to see what he was doing certainly enhanced the feeling if not made the pleasure and stimulation stronger deep inside your cunt.

Your back was up hard against the wall and his hands was holding up one of your thighs while you held on tight to him. Your back arches as you felt him kiss your bundle of nerves, your leg growing weak from his thrusts smooching you so deeply and holding you up.

You felt Law’s fingers pinch at your nipple and you gasp out before turning your head and shuddering at his touch.

You could hear him chuckle all lowly and mischievously as if he was enjoying watching you twist and turn against him, his lips couldn’t help but to curl up into a smile hearing your submissive whines.

“Oh god~ Traffy~”

You gasp out shakily and pulled yourself up a bit, your body struggling to keep its balance while Law kept your other leg up. Your pussy tightens around him and he hissed out, you couldn’t stay composed when his cock was kissing all of the spots that needed his genuine love and attention. Your nails scratched at his shoulders and you whined as you began to grow all wobbly and unbalanced.

“T-Traffy~ I-I can’t keep standing m-much longer~” You moan out to him shakily, feeling his hips stammer for a bit before his thrusts began to slow down.

“It’s alright, I gotchu sweetness.”

Law grabs your thighs and pulls you up before pressing you against the wall even tighter, his body squeezing up against your tummy and pretty breasts.

You moan out all lovingly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs tight around his hips while he fucked your pussy deep and hard against the wall. He could notice your brows furling above the blindfold while your pussy sucked him in and squeezed him tighter.

“Gettin’ close aren’t you?~” He asked, pressing a smooch to your lips while you whimper in response. “M-Mhmm~ N-Need to cum…” You exhaled, clawing at his skin as you couldn’t hold back much longer. He huffs out and thrusts deeper into you, his arms holding you up steady while his cock churned up your insides.

You struggled to hold your voice back and your moans started growing louder just as much as Law’s were. You feel Law tremble against you and his thrusts grew disorganized as he felt himself growing close. “Fuck~ I’m cummin’ baby, keep squeezin’ my cock just like that for me, okay?” He whispers out into your ear, heavy breaths hitting your skin as you listened to him and nodded.

Your cunt unconsciously obeys and he thrusts into you faster yet still sloppily while you winced from the pleasure. Your toes curled and you held on to him tight before gasping out angelically into his ear, your pussy fluttering around his length as you finally squirt on his length. “Traffyyy~” You whimpered into his hear, your hand running up into his raven strands while he moans out at your tone.

He gives you a loving smooch before finally releasing deep inside of you, his seed filling up your cunt and making you shudder before you sigh out shakily at the sensation. He huffs out heavily as he stood there in place, holding you still while you rested your head against his shoulder.

He sighs out and pulls the blindfold from around your temple and off your eyes, a mewl leaving you as you lift your head and looked at him. “Are you alright?” He asked, cracking a smile with you stared at him innocently yet satisfied. “M-Mhmmm~” You responded exhaustively, staring into his golden eyes which softened the more he stared at your drowsy features.

“You sure you’re alright? Don’t need any water or anythin’?” Law had pulled you away from the wall, his arms were still carrying you, but his length was still deep inside of you. You hum out and rest your head against his chest. “I just wanna lay on you baby, I want cuddles…” You pouted, your voice in a cutesy yet tired tone.

“Alright, I’ll give you cuddles baby~” He chuckles, peppering a smooch to your temple before he hummed out lovingly. “Before that though, I need you to hydrate. You need some fluids in your system.” He chimed, his brows furrowing as he gives you a playful glare. You whined but nodded to him before a sleepy sigh left your lips, your fingers slipping from his neck just a bit.

“Anything for you baby~”

☆ ☆ ☆

You were lying there on the couch just like how you were last week when Law had came to you. You were resting there and staring up at the ceiling, a satisfied mewl leaving your lips as your body felt very content and stimulated.

“Sweetness.” You heat Law call out to you and you hum out before looking to him, your face all cute and pure as you stared at your boyfriend. He walks over and flops down onto your body, ripping a sudden gasp from you while he snickers. “Traffy, you’re too big to be flopping onto me like this-“ You choked out, your cheeks puffing up as you poured to him. He smiled and peppers smooches all over your face before staring into your eyes.

“Wanna- Try again this week?” He asked, giving you a mischievous smirk while your eyes stared at him absentmindedly. “Is your body not satisfied Traffy? How strong is your libido?” You asked him, quirking a brow before you cracked a cute little smile to him.

“It’s not that I’m not satisfied, I just enjoyed experimentin’ and trying out our kinks together. We don’t even have to fuck as much as we did last week~ It’s about discoverin’ more about ourselves and having fun while doing it.” He confessed, his hand playing at your hair while you blushed at the contact.

“Well…When you put it that way…I guess we can…do it again…” You said all shyly, your hands playing at his fingers while he smiled at your lovable reaction. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. We could just spend more time with each other and go out more if you want to.” Law suggested, throwing out options that could work for you want make you more comfortable.

You perk up at his second suggestion and hum out while pressing your palm against your cheek. “Well…How about we try both? One day we’ll hang out and have romantic dates and another day we could play around and…discover more about ourselves like you said~” You crawled over to Law and straddled him, his hands reaching up and holding your hips while he hums out all breathily.

“Fuck, ion mind that at all~ You thought up an idea better than mine sweetness…” He groans out as he sits up and press his lips against yours, making you mewl out before you giggled. “As long as I get to take my time with you, I’m alright with anything baby~” You say all sweetly, your hand holding his hand before you pulled it up to your cheek and nuzzled into it. His tatted fingers pinched at your cheek and he peppers another smooch to your cheek before relaxing his body back on the couch.

“So, where to first? There’s a bunch of options on the table.” He whispers to you, his fingers going back to playing with your hair.

“A movie night sounds lovely to me baby~”

“A movie night it is then~”

#puddingcupfics #puddingcupimagines #dividers -> benkeibear #one piece #one piece smut #one piece fluff #op smut #op fluff #one piece x female reader #one piece trafalgar law #op trafalgar law #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law fluff #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law x reader

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 months

Text

Trust Me, I Can Handle Me a Dangerous Man…

Summary: Some things never change…

Relationship: Mr. Freezy (Bobby) x hitwoman!fem reader (kitten)

Words: ~2.7k

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (unprotected p in v, rough sex, edging, cock warming), murder, drug use, part of a dark-ish AU, NO MINORS 🔞

A/N: I FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED A FIC AFTER SEVEN GODDAMN MONTHS!!! Now that the screaming is out of the way, hi y’all! I cannot guarantee that I’m going to be posting fics on a regular basis but I will say that I have a couple in the works that I actually feel are close to being finished soooooo, fingers crossed!

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on my writing, follow @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You smiled to yourself as the light caught the ring on your finger, turning your hand back and forth and humming softly at the way it sparkled in the sunlight.

Then his hand tightened around your throat and he moved inside you and all you could do was whine.

“Jesus fucking Christ, kitten,” Bobby snarled in your ear when he felt you flutter around his cock as he cut off your air, slapping your tits and then your face a few times with his free hand until he was satisfied your were focused again. “Pay attention. Never would’ve put that fucking thing on your finger if I knew you were gonna get so damn distracted.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you purred when he pulled you even closer, grinding your ass in his lap while he fucked up into you. “‘Scuse me for enjoying being a newlywed.”

He just snorted before sinking his teeth into the side of your neck while his body kept rolling underneath yours. It’s not like he could deny there wasn’t something special about finally being able to call you his wife, to enjoy knowing that you belonged to him completely and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Not that anyone would ever try. He would fucking kill them if they did. Hell, he almost killed anyone who would even look at you, now. Nothing got him more worked up than growling at some idiot for looking at his wife and then fucking you like he owned you. God, he actually fucking loved you, in his fucked up, psychotic way.

You sighed when he licked the mark he had left on your neck, rocking your body against his and holding the rifle in your hands tightly as he kept his grip just firm enough for you to take shallow breaths. It was true, you were having a little trouble focusing, but you still got your fucking job done. You had to, since he had wanted to be inside you since pretty much right after you left City Hall two days go. Of course, you couldn’t really complain about that, not when his cock was throbbing inside you and his breath was hot against your neck. When he started sucking on your ear you grinned, turning your face so you could rub your cheek against his over your shoulder.

“Ah shit,” you saw movement through the scope out of the corner of your eye and huffed out a sharp breath, “That’s him. Keep your mouth to yourself for a damn minute.”

“Fine,” Bobby leaned back with a groan, watching you raise the gun to aim and fighting the urge to keep thrusting his hips, “Just hurry the fuck up.”

You ignored the brush of his fingers as he pushed up your skirt so he could grope your ass, taking deep breaths and doing your best to remain focused when he let out a grunt at the way your pussy looked when it was stretched wide around his dick. The idiot you had to kill was finally in your sights. He hadn’t stepped outside in two days and his blinds were always closed, paranoid bastard. But one call from his little girlfriend and he threw all that caution to the wind. What a fucking moron.

Two more breaths and you squeezed the trigger, the silenced gunshot swallowed by the noise of the city. The dumbass in your scope had barely hit the ground before Bobby grabbed the back of your neck and threw you to the floor. He didn’t waste any time before shoving his cock back inside you, grinning to himself when you moaned and spread your legs for him.

“That’s it, such a good fucking whore my wife is,” he grunted as he started to fuck you like an animal, his hips smacking against your ass lewdly, “Fuck, I’ll never get sick of this snatch of yours, so damn tight.”

“Such a sweet talker you are,” you arched your back so he could hit you even deeper, your eyes fluttering when he spread your cheeks and spat on your asshole, “Knew you just married me for my body.”

“Just keep talking, bitch,” Bobby started rubbing your rim with his thumb while he fucked you and almost lost it when it made you clench tighter around him, “Married you for that cunt mouth too.”

“Yes… oh fuck,” you dug your fingers into the carpet underneath you and bit your lip when he slid his thumb inside your ass, every muscle in your body starting to grow tight, “Fuck me harder, you stupid fucking bastard. Make me come.”

“Yeah, I’ll make you come, you dumb little slut,” he groaned and leaned over you so he could sink his teeth into your shoulder, growling against your skin when he felt both of your holes flutter around him, “Do it fast. I want to come inside your pretty little gash before the pigs show up.”

Even as you rolled your eyes you still whined when his balls rubbed against your clit, your legs trembling and your breath leaving you in sharp huffs as you came on his cock. As soon as he felt you squirt he drove into you to the hilt. His breath was hot against your skin while he grunted in his release, his dick pulsing inside you as he pumped you full of his thick cum. He kissed the mark he left on your neck and then he was gone, standing up and grinning at the sight of you sprawled out on the floor and leaking his seed.

You thought about sassing him for leaving you to clean yourself up, but then you heard sirens and you knew it was time to go. Bobby took care of disassembling the rifle once he got his jeans pulled back up. At least all you had to do was pull your dress back into place, admiring the bites and bruises he’d left all over your tits as you slid your arms back into your sleeves. Hopefully you looked appropriately love drunk and giddy, making sure the ring on your finger was prominent and beaming at him when he wound his arm around your waist and hefted the suitcase holding your rifle.

The lobby was full of cops, but you two looked like the happy newlyweds you were, so they had no reason to bother you. Or, you looked like a happy newlywed, Bobby looked like he was thinking about stabbing some of those cops until you stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“Fucking pigs,” Bobby practically spat the words as he shoved the suitcase into the trunk before climbing into the driver’s seat, “Make my goddamn skin crawl.”

“Well if you hadn’t insisted on fucking me we could’ve been out of there before they showed up,” you caught his hand by the wrist after he slapped you and bit his knuckle with a playful growl, “Don’t be so cranky, Bobby. I’ll let you finger fuck me while we drive back to the club.”

By the time you had made it back to the club you were a mess and he looked annoyingly pleased with himself. All you could do when he gave your sloppy cunt a few final smacks was whine and feebly try to push his hand away while he just chuckled at you. The only thing that brought you back to yourself was when he backhanded you across the face. As much as it made you want to stab him, you needed to maintain some semblance of professionalism when you were about to meet with the bosses. That didn’t stop you from ramming your fist into his gut once you had finally pulled yourself out of the car, his low snarl when you just started walking away while he stood there doubled over making your pussy start to clench all over again.

The club was empty except for staff since the sun was still up, all of whom chuckled under their breath when they saw Bobby stalking after you with pure murder etched on his face. Curtis grinned when he saw you approaching, shaking his head when Bobby caught up to you and grabbed you by the throat so he could whisper threats in your ear. You just rolled your eyes at your husband and gave Curtis a wink when he held the door to the bosses’ office open for you. Bobby shook a few times for good measure before he finally let you go, shoving you into the office and just barely resisting the urge to fling one of your knees over his elbow and hold you wide open while he took his annoyance out on your pretty little cunt.

“Holy fucking shit, you weren’t lying when you said you got hitched?!” Lloyd looked positively giddy with amusement when you pranced up and held out your hand to show him the ring. “I don’t know if I should be insulted you didn’t invite me or not.”

“Please, you wanted to come to city hall?” You ignored Bobby’s grumbling while you conversed with Lloyd, watching your husband sink into one of the office chairs then turning your attention back to your favorite boss. “It’s not like Bobby was going to throw a party.”

“That’s true. You have married a stick in the mud, my dear. Nick, Auggie!” Lloyd grinned at the other bosses when they strode into the office. “Congratulate our favorite psychos, they tied the knot!”

“Did they finish the job?” August grunted while Nick actually congratulated the two of you, ignoring Lloyd’s melodramatic eye roll.

“Sure fucking did,” You gave August a wink when he just shrugged at you. “Dropped that fucker right in the middle of Manhattan.”

“That’s why you’re the best,” Lloyd bent under the desk to grab the hefty envelope of cash, taking a little longer then usual and beaming even more when he also came up with a kilo of coke. “And a nice little bonus as congratulations on your nuptials. You know my little lady is going to want to actually throw you a party though?”

“Wouldn’t expect anything less,” you thumbed through the cash and turned back to your husband, sighing when he gave you a sour look. “Don’t worry, grumpy, you can stay home.”

He just huffed before the two of you started to head back out to the car, ignoring the well wishes of your bosses and choosing to let his eyes rake over your body. You had gotten significantly more social ever since the two of you joined the new organization, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it. Granted, the money was enough to make up for any chit chat he had to put up with, and he did get to fuck you in public a lot more. Plus, the drugs…

“Lemme taste that,” Bobby grabbed the brick and jabbed his knife into it, rubbing some of the powder onto his gums and sucking in a breath when he got a buzz right away. “Fuck, that’s good shit.”

“Gimme,” you giggled when he scooped some onto his pinky and offered it to you, humming after you took a bump and looking up at him with wide eyes. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Fuck it,” he shoved you into one of the VIP booths in the club and bent you over the table, flipping up your skirt and giving your ass a good smack before scooping more coke onto his blade. “We can have a quick party. Fucking hold still.”

You moaned when he started to tap out lines on the upper curve of your ass. It was so hard not to start trembling when he pulled shit like this, his warm breath on your skin and the fact that anyone could walk by and see you making your pussy start to get slick and hot right away. Bobby growled and dragged his stubborn cheek along the curve of your ass before giving you a firm bite, licking and kissing the mark he made on your skin before turning his focus to the lines of white powder and inhaling them greedily.

“Bobby…” you moaned and then froze when you felt him parting your cheeks with his calloused fingers. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

“Calm down… hey!” Bobby rose to his feet and grabbed the back of your neck when you tried to turn around and scratch him, slamming your head against the table twice as he took off his belt with one hand. “You’re the little bitch who cries about being too sensitive when you’re high, kitten. Thought I would help you out.”

“You fucking bastard!” It’s not like you could do anything except hiss and spit at him, kicking your legs when he looped his belt around your wrists and somehow managed to bind you to the legs at the opposite side of the table. “Bull shit you wanna help me!”

“Yeah well,” he chuckled and slapped your ass as hard as he could when you almost kicked him in the knee. “Maybe I just wanna see how wet my little wife’s pussy can get if she can’t come.”

You snarled and tried uselessly to squirm away from him when he started rubbing the cocaine all over your pussy and asshole. Even as high as you were, you wanted to scratch one of his eyes out for this. It wasn’t even enough to make you completely numb, just enough that you were going to be frustrated and right on the edge for the next hour. You could still feel his warm breath and the heavy weight of his tongue when he dragged it over your sex, but the delicious throbbing you typically felt in your clit when he sucked on it was gone, replaced by an annoying little buzz that made you grind your teeth.

“Still so goddamn sweet, you’re dripping, sweetheart,” Bobby pinched your clit and grinned when you rewarded him with a petulant growl. He was probably going to have to tie you up when he needed to sleep for the next week, unless he wanted to wake up to a knife in his leg. But fuck, it was worth it.

“I’m gonna rip your fucking tongue out,” your threats didn’t stop you from grinding back against his face, every muscle in your body tensing as you held your breath and tried to will yourself to come. But it didn’t happen. You could feel it right there but then it was gone. “Fuck!”

Bobby just hushed you and then bent back to work, burying his face in your supple cheeks and grunting as he wrapped his lips around your pussy and sucked. Every time you made one of your little dissatisfied sounds he just pinched your clit again, reminding you that he could and that nothing he might do to you right now would be able to make you come. He swore your pussy tasted even sweeter when he pissed you off like this, that it got even more swollen and hot than it did during his normal games with you. He loved it, so much so that he was seriously considering rubbing more coke all over your cunt once your sensitivity was back just so he could make you even angrier.

Four more times he brought you right up to the edge then just kept you there, chuckling into the swollen folds of your cunt each time you screamed in impotent rage. After an hour you were a panting, sweat-soaked mess of a woman, your body quivering with frustration and exhaustion. Even when he undid his belt from around your wrists you couldn’t move, snarling at him uselessly when he just gave your temple a condescending kiss. As soon as you could move you were going to stab him.

“I know that look, kitten, and I wouldn’t recommend it.” He gave your ass a hard swat before pulling your skirt back down to cover you. “I know your a hissy kitty right now, but I might have a treat planned for my little wife.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed at him, grumbling under your breath when he helped you stand and left his arm around your waist. “What kind of treat?”

“Oh, I dunno…” Bobby pinched your ass as the two of you made your way towards the club exit. “How do you feel about picking up a toy for the night?”

#natalie writes #poison paradise #bobby and kitten #mr freezy #robert pronge #mr freezy x female reader #female reader #chris evans #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans character x reader #eighteen plus only

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atinyniki · 4 months

Text

mistakes and apologies.

group: stray kids !

pairing: ex-cupid!hwang hyunjin x human f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, hyunjin is referred to as jin, jinnie, hyune, blood (ish?), reader kinda is a dumbass, intimacy, mentions of sex (no smut), ANGSTTT, taehyun is readers ex-boyfriend, harin is taehyuns girlfriend, pregnancy, mentions of cheating, new relationships and the pain thata goes along with it, hyunjin starting his life as a human being, hyun = taehyun hyunjin = hyune (its meant to sound similar so jinnie gets jelly >:)) ), crying, drinking and alcohol.

authors note: (pt. 2 of cupid's arrow) repost of an old fic but took out the smut part of this bc... it didnt seem important. there are still sexual parts in this fic !!! remember that before reading please :) this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 5892

“y/n! i’m home!”

you walk over to the door, excited to see your boyfriend after he went out for groceries. he took a lot longer than you usually would, but you guess it’s because he’s never been grocery shopping before.

the second you saw him though, you realized you were completely wrong. your heart felt like it was going to explode again.

“how do i look?”

you walk over to him, twirling a couple strands of his now black hair around your finger. you beam at him, “it looks so pretty, jinnie...”

hyunjin’s heart swells in his chest. you’ve done this so many times before. when in bed, doing his makeup, while you’re reading, you always have your hands in his hair, but you’ve never done it simply just to admire it.

the look in your eyes slowly has him shying away, averting your gaze and settling his eyes onto your shoulder instead. “thank you…”

you grab some of the bags from his hand, bringing them to the kitchen and putting some things in the fridge. “i’m sorry, i wanted to look more… you know… human i guess? the pink stood out a little.”

you walk over to him and smile, tucking some of the black wisps of hair behind his ear. “why are you apologizing jinnie? i said it looks pretty on you! i love it.”

“oh. i dunno, i just- i know how much you loved my pink hair.”

he sets down the bags onto the counter, eyeing you as you approach him. you cup his face in your hands, smiling at him.

his cheeks burn red at the proximity of your faces, and you finally give him a quick peck on his lips. “i love you hyune, you know that right? a hair color isn’t going to change how i feel about you, dummy”, you giggle.

he hasn’t gotten used to the whole relationship thing, but it’s safe to say he’s loving it so far.

“thank you, i love you too”

“i got the job!”

you jump up, walking over to hug him. “i’m glad, you deserve it. you’re really talented hyune”

though it’s happened many times, he’ll never get used to your praise. it seems like you always know what to say in the moment, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

he holds onto you tight, pulling away a little to kiss your cheek. he giggles, “thanks y/n…”

after a moment of comfortable silence, you pull away and take his hand in yours. “come eat, i made dinner”

you both sit down at the table, talking more about his new job as a dance instructor. “when do you start working?”

“monday, and i only work weekdays”

you hum in acknowledgement, taking another bite of the jjajangmyeon you made. “how long do you work? just so i know in case we have to schedule things.”

“four hours a day, i start at four”

“hmm… okay”

he continues eating, surprised he’s never had this dish before, but then again, food was different up there. you grab onto his hand, smiling at him while you wait for him to finish eating.

he finishes his bowl not too long after, only to turn and see you staring right at him. you giggle, trying not to sputter out a laugh. “is something wrong?”

you smile at him, “you have a little sauce on your face”

“what? where?”

you point to where it is, but he misses. “here, let me”

you swipe the sauce away from his lip, and look back up into his eyes. he stares back with wide eyes, inevitably getting flustered at the little action. you pull him down by his shirt to kiss him once, pulling away not long after and bringing the bowls to the sink.

he stays sat at the table in surprise, is it normal to be so flustered all the time?

“hyune? are you in- oh…”

the pale yellow glow of his wings lit up the room just enough to see what was in front of him. he quickly shuts off his phone, where he has the reference photo, and almost knocks over the canvas in the process.

“don’t look…”

you giggle, walking over him and hugging him from behind. “awh… jinnie”

you watch as his cheeks flush red, and he brings his hands up to cover his face. “shut up…”

you pry his hands off his face and kiss him on the cheek, exaggerating it with a loud ‘mwah’. you see the smile erupt on his face, and you couldn’t stop anymore. you begin peppering kisses all over his face, sitting down on his lap somewhere in between.

he finally pulls away, only to finally kiss your lips. you deepen it, running your tongue along his bottom lip, silently asking for permission. of course, it’s not like he can resist anyways.

you tug some of his hair, earning a groan from him, and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. “hyune…”, you whisper.

he doesn’t let you continue, kissing you again and standing up, holding you against him. you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, the painting long forgotten.

he climbs onto you, tugging on your shirt with his hands. you quickly throw it off, taking his off next.

“need you…”

“are you okay? do you need anything?”

“hyune, you’ve asked me that like… six times”

“oh… sorry”

you giggle at him, grabbing his arms and pulling him back down onto the bed. “come here”

hyunjin has put on a shirt already, but you’re still completely bare. you hold him close to you, giving him little kisses on his face and watching him giggle.

his eyes are fixed onto your face, practically unable to wander anywhere else when he has this gorgeous sight in front of him. “you’re so beautiful”, me mutters as he kisses your cheek.

“i love you hyune”

his eyes widen again, it seems like he hasn’t gotten used to you saying it yet. he nuzzles into your chest, looking up at you again and kissing over your collarbone. “i love you too”

he wraps his arms around you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “you know, i look forward to this everyday.”

you giggle, “what, sex?”

he smiles, “no, just to hold you.”

you blush, “oh, i-“

“shh… just rest now. need you close to me…”

your fingers graze his wings a little, and he immediately relaxes into your hold. yeah, you can definitely get used to this.

“open it!”

“i’m scared, is a spider going to jump out of it or something?”

“what?! no! just… just open it.”

you slowly take off the lid, spotting what looks like a mini photo book inside. “what’s this?”

“my sketchbook.”

you look back up at him, “don’t you need this?”

“it’s my old one, look inside”

you hold the book, admiring the work done at the front. pretty flowers are scribbled onto the cover, and you run your fingers along the grooves. you open the book, and your jaw drops instantly.

you flip through the countless photos he’s drawn of you, even one of you on your first “date” at the cafe. you still remember how your nose bled so bad that day, and you smile to yourself.

“well, do you-“

before he can get his question out, you pull him into a soft kiss, smiling when you hear his surprised yelp.

“i love it. its beautiful, hyune…”

his heart swells in his chest again, something about these moments felt so special to him. he hopes he’ll remember these moments forever.

the honeymoon phase can only last so long, right?

you walk over to the snacks section, trying to find those chips that hyunjin really likes, but you can’t remember what they’re called. you stroll through the aisle, looking for the packaging.

you spot the light purple bag, picking it up until you hear a voice from beside you. “y/n?”

you turn your head to where you heard it come from, “hyun? hey!”

he walks over to you, it’s been a while since you’ve seen him last, only ever seeing his posts with his girlfriend. “how are you?”

he giggles at the question, but you’re not sure why. “good, i see you’ve been doing well.”

you give him a questioning look, until he begins playfully nudging your shoulder. “so thankful for my hyunnie”, he says in a mocking voice.

you quickly push him off of you, “shut up, taehyun”

“awhh, but you love him don’t you?”, he asks with pleading eyes. “yes, i do, now shut up about him.”

he giggles again, “is someone getting flustered?”

you finally turn towards him, rolling your eyes, “fine then, how’s your girlfriend hyun? don’t you love her so much?”, you giggle.

you watch as he flushes red, god you’re both in deep shit. after laughing at him for a little, he speaks up. “i actually came here to um… get a pregnancy test”

your eyes go wide, and your head shoots up to look at him. “wait… really?!”

he smiles, nodding at you. “we’ve been trying for a while”

“that’s great! you should probably get going now then, i don’t want you to worry her.”

he hums in agreement, smiling and bidding his goodbyes. you remind yourself to text him later to ask about it.

you’re glad you stayed on good terms.

“what? really?! she’s really pregnant?”

“yes!”

“oh my gosh! i’m so happy for you guys!”

“how are you and hyunjin?”

the conversation went on for hours, it’s been a long time since you’ve really talked. you missed taehyun. not as a lover of course, but as a friend. he always knew how to listen to you and help you.

you try to block out the bad memories, the rejection and heartbreak. you wished you stayed friends, maybe it would be a lot easier to talk to him without all that history.

you start making the jjajangmyeon, hyunjin’s new favorite dish, with the phone at your side. “yeah he’s really come to like my jjajangmyeon so i make it a bunch”

“ah i see, harin loves jjajangmyeon too! maybe we should plan a double date”, he giggles.

you were so lost in the conversation that you didn’t even hear him coming through the door. he hugs you from behind, almost causing you to drop the pot you were holding.

“god! you scared me…”

you pick up your phone, “sorry hyun, hyunjin just got home. i’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

“of course! enjoy the food”

“thanks, bye hyun!”

“bye byeee”

you end the call, turning around to hug hyunjin properly. “dinners ready, i made you your favorite”

he gives you a tired smile, and you both sit down at the table with your plates. “who were you talking to earlier?”

you know he wasn’t being suspicious, and it was just out of pure curiosity, but the way he said it made you giggle. “oh, that was taehyun”

he hummed in acknowledgement. “never heard of them before”, he smiled. “yeah, he’s an old friend”

“ah… i see”, he takes another bite of his food, almost deep in thought. he knows very well who taehyun is, hyunjin was your cupid after all. but it seemed to fly over your head, you thought of hyunjin as a normal person now, your lover.

“hyune? you okay?”

he looks up at you, smiling again and kissing your cheek. “just tired. missed you…”

you giggle again, hyunjin never fails to make you smile. “i missed you too hon.”

the silence felt truly comfortable with hyunjin. not too long after, you bring him to the bedroom, running a bath for him and slowly undressing him.

“thank you…”

you give him a little kiss, “don’t thank me. this should be the bare minimum.”

after a moment of silence, you wonder why he hasn’t gone in yet. “is something wrong?”

“yes.”

he quickly undresses you, and you let him of course, although you’re a little confused. you expected him to be tired, not wanting any intimacy right now.

instead of sitting on the bed, he picks you up and sets you down in the bathtub, settling in with you not long after.

“need to be close to you…”

you massage his aching limbs with the foamy bubbles, smiling and kissing his face every so often. you know he’s working hard, and you just want to take care of him for now. “sorry for being so clingy.”

“don’t apologize, i need you just as much.”

you’ve finished the movie you were watching with hyunjin, finally grabbing the new book you bought to read. hyunjin stays put in your lap, enveloping himself in your warmth.

you start to read, the room completely silence aside from your breathing. “y/n?”

you were a little startled by his voice, but answered him. “yes jinnie?”

“can you… um- read to me?”

you giggle at him, poking his nose. “of course darling.”

you continue to read the romance novel, reading most of the soft scenes. hyunjin can’t help but imagine the both of you two in the book instead of the characters.

his breathing stills, but he’s still awake. you don’t know that though. you continue to read, until you get a phone call. “hello? taehyun?”

hyunjin continues to act like hes asleep, scared that you’ll get mad if he interrupts. “hey y/n! how are you?”

“oh i’m pretty good, just reading a book right now. why what’s up?”

“well, harin wanted me to invite you over! i think she’s crazy but she really wants to meet you. says you remind her of her sister.”

you giggle, “oh yeah of course! when?”

“when are you free?”

“well, i can come over right now if that’s okay with you”

“of course! will you be bringing hyunjin?”

“no i don’t think so, he’s sleeping right now”

you both say your goodbyes, and you carefully slip off the couch, setting hyunjin’s head down into a pillow and covering him with a blanket.

you quickly get ready, leaving hyunjin a note on the table and giving him a peck on the forehead. you enter your car not long after, driving over to taehyuns.

hyunjin quickly got off the couch to check the note.

‘going to taehyuns! he wanted to see me. i’ll be back soon love, make sure to eat!’

of course, hyunjin couldn’t hear the other end of h the phone call. he didn’t really know that taehyun had a girlfriend, or that you were going more to meet her rather than see taehyun.

maybe you should’ve worded it better…

it’s been happening a lot now, you’ve been leaving the house to talk to harin and taehyun almost everyday.

of course, hyunjin didn’t want to talk to you about it though, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. he didn’t want to be jealous, he really did trust you but… he just couldn’t help himself.

he didn’t know how to approach you about it, so he planned on telling you when he got home. he just wanted to talk to you for a little bit, because truthfully, he just missed you.

“y/n? i’m home!”

he continues looking for you, but you’re nowhere to be found. he lets his wings out, wanting to relax for a bit. he looks for the note you’ve probably left on the counter.

picking it up, he reads it, but it’s no surprise you’re at taehyuns. at least you leave a note, right? he walks over to the kitchen. maybe it’ll be better to talk about this over dinner?

it probably would be, if his wing didn’t get stuck between the door to the pantry. “fuck-“

he tries opening the door, but only folds the part of the wing. he screams in pain, trying to get it out carefully. it doesn’t budge. tears start leaving his eyes, he can’t escape. he does the only thing he can, and grabs his phone out of his pocket.

he calls you. no answer. he calls you again. no answer. fuck it.

hyunjin: y/n i need your help.

hyunjin: it’s urgent, come home please

hyunjin: y/n please?

no. answer.

shit. what now?

he tries prying himself out, but he pulls too hard. a loud scream echos through the empty house, hyunjin falling onto the floor. the half of the wing that’s been torn off has completely disintegrated into various colors of glitter.

a pink liquid drips from the inside of his torn wing, and he quickly grabs a tissue to stop it. he waits for it all to dry, and puts away his wings.

maybe it’s better to rest for now. all of a sudden, he gets a phone call from an unknown number.

“hello?”

“hi! is this hyunjin?”

“yes it is, what can i help you with?”

“oh! im taehyun, im sure y/n has told you about me. long story short, we went clubbing for some fun and she got incredibly drunk… i don’t think she’s in proper condition to drive. is it okay if she stays over for the night?”

his heart sinks into his chest, he prays taehyun won’t take advantage of your vulnerable state right now.

“oh yeah, of course. thanks for taking care of her.”

taehyun can hear the pain in his voice. “hyunjin, are you okay? i can drop her off and pick her up later to get her car if you’re more comfortable with that?”

“oh i’m okay! sorry… just hurt myself a little earlier and im a bit tired”

“ah i see, hope you feel better soon!”

“thanks taehyun. have a good night, text me if you need me”

he couldn’t stand waiting for a goodbye from taehyun, only hanging up and opening his messages again.

he unsends all the messages he sent you, scared you’ll feel bad for not being there. it’s okay, you were just drunk right? you wouldnt ignore him.

at least he hopes so.

“hyune? i’m home!”

“hey baby”, you hear from the couch behind you.

“oh gosh! you scared me”

he lets out a giggle, but you heard a different emotion laced into the sound. “sorry, just wanted to relax here for a bit.

“is something wrong? you texted me yesterday but it said you unsent the messages.”

“oh, no nothing happened. i was just asking about if you were coming home, but taehyun called me”

“oh okay! do we have any juice?”

“yeah, i bought some for your hangover. check the fridge.”, he replied a little coldly.

your heart clenched a little, confused as to why he was acting like this. you grab the juice and pour yourself a glass.

you notice traces of glitter on the floor outside of the pantry. “hyune, why is there glitter on the floor?”

“oh, just residue from my wings.”

“oh…”

it’s quiet once again, and you walk towards the couch.

“are you okay?”, you ask a little quietly.

“just tired”

“oh… okay”

a moment of silence passes. normally it’s comfortable in eachothers presence, but this time it felt suffocating.

“i love you hyune”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment, clenching his fists to ease the pain coursing through his veins.

“i love you too”, he answers, a little slower than usual.

you sit down next to him, nuzzling into his warmth. he has every right to be mad, but he wraps his arms around you anyways. he’s still upset, but he’ll talk to you when you’re in the right mind.

that time never came. you went over to harin’s every day since then, normally coming home to see hyunjin already asleep.

this time though, you don’t expect him to be standing right at the door waiting for you.

“where were you?”

“what? you know where i was. i was at hyuns”

he didn’t mean for the next question to come out so harsh, but he couldn’t help it. “are you cheating?”

your eyes go wide, “w-what?”

“are you cheating on me with taehyun?”, he asks again sternly.

“hyunjin that’s crazy, why would you even ask that?”

“you’re really gonna say “thats crazy” instead of denying it?”

you scoff incredulously, “no, i’m not cheating on you.”

“i- i don’t know if i can believe you anymore.”

“then why would you even ask if you’re so certain?”

he goes silent. a tear leaves his eye, his entire façade cracking. your heart felt like it was going to explode… not in the good way.

“i… i wanted to trust you. i wanted to believe you- but you… i don’t know anymore.”

“fine. text me when you realize you’re wrong. i’m sleeping over at harins.”

“who’s harin?”

“taehyuns fiancé.”

his heart stops.

“what? why didn’t you say he had one?”

“because, i thought you’d trust me to begin with.”

hyunjin’s eyes go wide, but before he can say anything, you turn around and leave. his heart feels like it’s been torn into a million pieces.

was it his fault then…? no… surely not…

life felt empty without you. hyunjin didn’t even have a life before he turned human, but it felt even worse without you. the person he’s been with since birth. the person he’s been through everything with, even if you weren’t aware of it.

his life was basically ruined without you. he doesn’t know when you’re coming back. it’s been two days already. the house is cleaned, he makes your favorite foods for dinner just hoping you’ll come back, but you don’t.

he spends his time painting, but he’s painted all he can. he has no reference photos of you anymore, he’s run out.

days pass… he’s forgetting the sound of your voice. he doesn’t want to. he sends you apologetic voicemails everyday praying you’ll send one back. you don’t.

taehyun has been calling him a lot too, assuring him that you just need time. he didn’t say it, but he knows you should’ve told hyunjin about his fiance first. maybe this could have all been avoided.

hyunjin can’t help but think it’s all his fault. he let his insecurities get in the way of rational thinking. of course you would never cheat! but… was the love you had even real?

it was all because of that stupid arrow, right? what if the spark you had was finally gone? he doesn’t want to think about it.

he quickly picks up another small painting, laying in bed and holding it in his hands. he doesn’t know if it’s right, or if it’s obsessive. all he knows is that he misses you. it’s been almost two weeks.

he’s been off at work, not as great as he used to be. he’s not the same without you, and it’s eating him alive.

“hey y/n… it’s been almost two weeks now. i miss you a lot. i’m sorry for not trusting you even though ive said it so many times, im just scared you’re going to fall out of love with me. maybe you already have… im sorry i have no way to get these feelings out other than to talk to a photo. i’m sorry i ever summoned that arrow, and im sorry i tore my wing. i wish i was good enough for you, i really do, and im sorry im not. i love you, and i miss you. please, come home soon. i just want to see you again. goodnight”

it’s become a regular routine after you didn’t answer his text or voicemails at night. he couldn’t call you, he couldn’t reach you in any way, but talking to you, or something that resembles you, helped him get those feelings out.

he drifts off to sleep almost and hour and a half later, he’s been having a lot of trouble with that lately.

you walk up to the house and unlock the door, trying to be as quiet as possible in case hyunjin was sleeping.

you almost cry at the sight of him again, various paintings piled up onto the dresser on your side of the bed. you take off your clothes and change into more comfortable ones, sliding into bed and being careful not to wake him up. you don’t succeed though.

hyunjin notices you in bed, but waits till you’re asleep to say anything. he knows you need rest, and you need a lot of time too.

you fall asleep not too long after, your breathing becoming even. should he really do this right now? it’s not like he had a choice, anyways.

he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest and burying his face in your shoulder. he whispers to you, afraid you’ll be mad again if he wakes you.

“hey y/n… i missed you a lot. im so sorry for pushing you away from me. i shouldn’t have done it, and ill take the blame for what happened. i know i should’ve trusted you, and im sorry i didnt. i also really regret summoning that arrow when we met. why did you have to stab yourself with it? you know you’d be much better off without me, right?”

you feel a teardrop fall onto your neck, but you don’t dare make a noise. you need to hear all of this and plan out your apology.

“i’m glad you’re back. i was scared i’d forget your voice. ive learned how to cook just for you, and i made your favorite foods in case you came home. i made so many paintings of you. i even… i even read that book. the one you read to me that night before you went to taehyuns house for the first time. i read over the paragraphs that you read to me, trying to hear your voice say the words again. it didn’t work.”

you turn around finally, almost sobbing when you see him again. his eyes go wide, scared that he’s hurting you even more, and he backs away. “no! hyune… don’t go. tell me how you feel, please.”

he hesitates for a moment, but when you hold his hand in yours it all comes crashing down.

“i love you so much y/n, but i can’t help but think you’d be better with someone else. im trying my hardest, but i always let insecurities get in the way of us. i should’ve trusted you. i don’t know why, but i just can’t see myself with you anymore because i know you don’t deserve it. you don’t deserve someone like me. you were forced to love me. you didn’t have a choice… but now you do. now you can get over me and fall in love with someone else, now that you know what it feels like. and… i can go back to being your cupid again. is that… okay with you?”

your heart stops. “what? no! no that’s not okay with me?! how could you even ask that hyune? i… i love you… i needed time to figure out how to apologize because… hyunjin- none of this is even your fault! it’s mine. i always went out with taehyun and never invited you, and i never even mentioned his fiancé! no wonder you got jealous… and even then i- i didn’t even give you any time. i always came home when you were asleep and that… that’s not okay. that’s on me. this is my fault hyune… please don’t blame yourself.”

“i’m sorry im asking you this again, and i really don’t want you to say anything to just sugarcoat it. promise you’ll be honest?”

“i promise. whats going on hyunjin?”

“do you really love me? it’s okay if you say no! i’ll understand, i promise… it’s just because of the arrow, right? i’m sorry i-“

you cut him off with a kiss, you couldn’t stand it anymore. teardrops dripped everywhere, collecting at the bottom of your chins as you began to sit up. “no… you’ve got it all wrong. i love you hyunjin. i promise”

more tears leave his eyes, small whimpers leaving his lips too. your heart cracked at every noise he made, but you hugged him tight while straddling him, splaying a hand across his cheek to soothe him.

“i’m so sorry hyunjin… this is all my fault, really. don’t blame yourself for anything. i’m sorry you had to deal with all these thoughts alone. i should’ve been there for you.”

“it’s okay… i just need you close now. can we talk tomorrow? please?”

you nod, kissing him again and laying down with him. you held him close to you, wrapping yourself around him to provide comfort. light sobs from him filled the room. you chose not to comment on it… it would only make you more upset.

you’ll make it up to him. you know you will.

“good morning, hyune”

his eyes flutter open, tears instantly run down his face as he looks at you, taking in your features in the light again.

“woah woah woah, what’s wrong?”

“nothing… i missed you”

your heart cracking more and more, this had to have been worse than the pain of rejection.

“i’m sorry. i should have come back earlier… i just wasn’t in the right mind.”

“it’s okay, love… just stay for now.”

you pull him closer to you, burying his face in your chest. “you know… my mom asked about you. i didn’t know how to tell her what i did, but it just all poured out. she told me to come here.”

“oh…”

“coming back into the house felt like a dream. i haven’t been here in so long, but i think what scared me was the paintings.”

“what… like my ‘shrine’?”

you giggle, “no hyune, not your little ‘shrine’, the ones outside. there were paintings in our house, and i had each stroke memorized by heart. our first picnic date, and the coffee date we had… i remember everything. but when i came home… they were all replaced with paintings of just me. i thought you left…”

you could feel your sleep shirt getting wetter and wetter from his tears, but you just pull him closer. “im sorry for hurting such a pure heart like yours, hyune. you didn’t deserve it.”

“i love you.”, he mumbles.

“hm?”

“i love you, y/n.”

“i love you too.”

he leans up to kiss your cheek. you know you have to make everything up to him, but for now you just wanted to enjoy this moment with him.

it’s been a couple days since then. you’re getting settled again with him, and it’s not going too terribly. he’s been opening up about his feelings more, and you’ve been listening to the voicemails he sent you while you were away.

you walk back into his art studio, rushing to him when you see his wings out. “hyune? what happened?”

he turns to you, “hm?”

he quickly traces your eyes, realizing that you’re looking at his wings, and he immediately hides them. “take them out again… please? i want to see…”

he sighs, taking them out again. “oh baby… how did this happen?”

“it got stuck in the middle of the door hinge. i tried to get it out but it tore.”

“oh… why didn’t you call me?”

he stays silent. you think back to the day you came home, and the glitter you found on the floor near the pantry.

“shit… it was- you did call me… but i was drunk, wasn’t i?”

“don’t feel bad about it please, it wasn’t your fault. you were just drunk”

you kneel down next to him, grabbing his legs and pulling so he’s staring at you. he drops his paintbrush onto the easel. “what are you doing?”

you quickly pull his shirt off, earning a questioning look from him. “y/n, is this really the time to be-“

you cut him off when you gently touch his wing over the tear, finally reaching up to kiss it. you kiss all over the edge, earning giggles from him. “stop! it tickles”

you look at him, hugging him at his waist again, then leaning over to kiss his chest. “my mom always used to kiss my scars. i’m sorry i can’t kiss the ones ive left on your heart.”

his eyes widen, tears flowing down his cheeks, and you bring your hand up to swipe them away.

“don’t cry baby… you don’t deserve it. i’m so sorry i hurt you.”

he kicks his chair to the side, kneeling so that he’s level with you. “thank you… but that’s not your job. you know that. you’ve apologized, i forgive you.”

tears leave your eyes again, he sounds so sincere, even though you’ve broken his heart already. “i love you… im so sorry.”

“i love you too. please don’t apologize.”

you pull him into another hug, still sniffling from your tears. “i’ll be better. i promise, hyune.”

“you’re okay… calm down, my love”

“wow… hes so beautiful…”

hyunjin cradles little minjoon in his arms, watching him thrash and blubber.

“thank you, hyunjin”, harin smiles at him. taehyun is right at his side, watching hyunjin play with minjoon.

your heart swells in your chest, he looks so cute with him, you can’t wait to have one of your own.

not long after, the two of you leave, walking into your home together and discussing your little trip. “thank you for letting me meet them… you didn’t have to.”

“of course i did! they’re my best friends now, it’s kind of required”

he giggles, picking you up and setting you down on the counter. “i really do love you, y/n.”

“i know… i love you too”

he lets his wings out, a purple glow filling the room. “baby?”

he picks you up, bringing you to the bedroom. “let’s have a baby.”

“what?!”

he sighs, “fuck… seeing minjoon…”

“oh my god… because of minjoon?!”

“please?”

you pull him closer, “fine… but you’re doing all the work this time.”

“i’ll do anything for you, darling”

“hyune!”

he rushes to the bathroom, a big smile on his face. “yes?”

“i’m pregnant!”

he picks you up, spinning you around and kissing your face repeatedly.

“really? are you sure?”

“im sure! i took three to check!”

“agghhhh! i love you so much!”

“i love you too, hyune.”

he looks at you again, a lovesick look in his eyes, and he promptly sinks to his knees. he pulls your shirt up, kissing over your tummy and hugging you close.

“can’t wait to see you all swollen with my baby…”

“god hyune, you’re so whipped”

“i know i am, but only for you, dear”

you pull him back up from the ground, bringing him to the bedroom and laying down with him. “you’re so cheesy.”

“and you love me”

“so much, hyune. you don’t even know.”

“you’re the light of my life.”

you nuzzle back into his shoulder, smiling until you feel a teardrop hit your cheek. you look up at him, slightly confused.

“you’re so pretty my love…”

“why are you crying?”, you giggle. “i can’t believe you’re really mine…” you hug him tight, kissing his shoulder.

“always yours. only yours.”

#atinyniki #skz hyunjin #skz x reader #skz x y/n #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin straykids #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin angst #hyunjin fluff #skz angst #skz imagines

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buddierecs · 28 days

Text

omegaverse buddie fics

all explicit rating - 18+ only!!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

think i could get used to this by: likeshipsonthesea "buck goes into heat, eddie volunteers to help without any idea of what he's getting himself into, and these dumbasses get their shit together and also a fuckload of orgasms" word count: 6.3k important tags: plot what plot, alpha!buck, omega!eddie, mating cycles, getting together, love confessions, pining multiple orgasms, rimming, blowjobs, knotting, praise kink i hunt for you with bloodied feet (across the hallowed ground) by: mediwitch3 “i’m fully capable of controlling myself, maddie,” buck says, “your lack of faith is astounding.” “listen, any other time, you would have my complete faith,” she tells him seriously, “but this thing with eddie is different, you’ve never had someone like that around during your ruts before.” buck gives her a flat look. “he won’t be there for my rut.” she rolls her eyes. “you know what I mean. your instincts are all crazy right now and your control is tenuous at best so just...” “just what, maddie?” buck passes a tired hand over his face again. “just be careful, that’s all I’m saying,” she sighs." word count: 10k important tags: werewolves au, didn't know they were dating, alpha!eddie, omega!buck, oblivious!buddie, blow jobs, anal sex, scenting, mating, knotting always, all ways by: ashavahishta "buck’s the only omega in the 118. he’s got secrets, and walls a mile high. eddie’s the alpha determined to knock them down." word count: 85k important tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, alpha!eddie, omega!buck, team as family, mutual pining, panic attacks, explicit sexual content, knotting, self-lubrication i choose you, pikachu (or the ways two idiots finally say you're mine) by: snarkymuch "buck gets hurt at a scene, sparking a reaction in eddie that is usually reserved for mates, which is especially odd since they aren’t nor have ever been dating, let alone bonded as a pair....." word count: 8.3k important tags: alpha!buck, alpha!eddie, idiots in love, getting together, possessive!eddie diaz, top!eddie diaz, mating bites, knotting standing in the way of control by: snailboat64 "buck hates alpha men. eddie isn't attracted to omegas. neither things matter because buck and eddie belong together, even if it takes a near death experience to work it all out." word count: 13k important tags: alpha!eddie, omega!buck, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, knotting all these twisted feelings (all i want is you) by: prettyboybuckley "buck and eddie are pining after each other, but things are complicated - they are both alphas, after all. buck's rut changes things." word count: 12k important tags: alpha!buck, alpha!eddie, getting together, friends to lovers, scent kink, breeding kink, anal sex, knotting tastes goods (when i choose it for myself) by: bigfootsmom "buck and eddie have always done things non-traditionally. why would spending buck’s rut together be done any other way?" word count: 7.1k important tags: established relationship, intersex omegas, alpha!buck, omega!eddie, knotting dildo, dom/sub, praise kink, degradation kink you want to want me but you can't let it go by: livesincerely "eddie gets dosed with heat inducers while on shift. buck, of course, makes everything better. now, it’s just a matter of convincing him to stay." word count: 7k important tags: alpha!buck, omega!eddie, idiots in love, mutual pining, possessive behaviour, praise kink, topping from the bottom you should be mine by: ikharys "eddie never identified himself as the territorial or jealous type, mainly because he didn't have an alpha he could call his own, and he had no interest in having one either. the problem started because buck was seeing tommy." word count: 16k important tags: omega!eddie, alpha!buck, hurt/comfort, angst, jealous!eddie diaz, miscommunication, praise kink, knotting, rimming

#buck x eddie fic #buddie fic #buck x eddie #buddie fics #eddie diaz #buddie fic rec #evan buckley #911 abc #911 fandom #911 show #evan buck buckley #buck x eddie fanfics #911 fic rec #buck x eddie smut #buddie 911 #buddie fanfic #buddie recs #buddie recommendations

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13a07s · 4 months

Text

Nail Appointment

(Kentaro Kyotani)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to 27kira_dax27]

Requested by: Myself :)

Word Count: 3,570

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

I know it's common that people think Mad Dog is a distance lover but I disagree. I think he'd be a clingy, 'always proving what's his' kind of lover

Choking

Biting

Hickeys

Kentaro having no PDA shame

Mentions of Social Anxiety

This is not a Oikawa hate account; love the man, he's just an ass in this fic, okay? :,(

———————————————————————

"Puppy?" I mutter, my focus on my nails. My polish chipped at some point today, leaving a gap in the honey-colored paint I got to match my boyfriend's eyes.

Instantly, Kentaro is behind me, his chest to my back and his hand around my throat. The rings decorating his ring and pointer fingers are pressed into the skin of my neck, gentle enough to indent the flesh but light enough not to leave a bruise. "Don't call me that," he grumbles, tone harsh but his head dipping down to be closer to my voice. "What do you want?"

"Kyotani!" My pup's teammate - Yahaba - yells with a stern look on his face. "You shouldn't grab at your partner like that. Would it kill you to act like a gentleman?" Kentaro ignored his teammate, a soft growl and a tightening of his hand around my throat as he rolls his eyes.

"My nails are chipped," I mutter, his attention instantly on my hands.

His free hand jumps up, gripping my fingers. Kentaro holds it up to his eyes, forcing my fingers to spread wide as he looks over my nails. "You're expensive. Stop being such a goddamn klutz," he groans, rubbing at the chipped nail.

That sends Yahaba into another lecture, chewing my boyfriend's ear off about lacking respect for me and talking down to me in 'such a degrading manner'.

Again, Kentaro ignores him, dropping my hand to tug his phone out of his pocket. His thumb rubs up and down my neck, his fingers routinely flexing against my skin as he taps away at his phone. "Shut up, Yahaba. Your voice is obnoxious," he finally grumbles, showing me the screen of his phone.

As I look over the screen, the two second-years bicker back and forth. Kentaro scheduled me a nail appointment for after school; four-thirty to be exact. It's Monday, which means it's an off day from practice, so he'll probably come with. Usually, he takes me to get my nails done on Fridays; his other off day of the week.

The fact that he just paid three days ago to get done is what he's mostly irritated about. Maybe I'll be able to convince him to let me pay for the redo. "Hey, Puppy?" Instantly, his attention is on me again, dropping the fight he's in the middle of. He lets out a grunt, squeezing my throat in acknowledgment. "I'll pay for my appointment."

Kentaro lets out a grunted laugh, all five fingertips rubbing against my throat now. "Over my dead body. I pay for your nails, end of discussion."

"Kyotani!" Yahaba yelps again, face reddening the longer the bickering goes on. "Stop being so rude to your partner. You're such an ass. You deserve better, you know that?" He asks, focusing on me as he rambles on about my boyfriend's 'lack' of softness.

"Ken-Chan is perfect." The nickname gets me a huff, a turned-up nose, and a tighter grip from Kentaro.

"Disgusting," he grumbles, his hand finally falling away from my neck. It lands on my shoulder, gripping me as his head lowers. "Have you eaten?" He husks out lowly, his grip tightening on me. I shake my head no, a low grumble filling my ear after I answer. "Did you eat breakfast?" Another head shake and disapproving growl. "Dumbass, no wonder your stomach has been upset all day."

I'm let go, my little bulldog storming away to find me some food as he grumbles about my lack of eating. Yahaba shoots after him, another lecture warming up as he trudges after my boyfriend.

I'm not left alone for long, not that I'm really alone. Kentaro's teammates are littered around the lunch table, a few of their partners mixed in as well. "Less Mad Dog-Chan!" His captain's voice rings out, pulling my attention away from my phone. The playboy is beaming in front of me, his favorite fangirl of the day wrapped around his arm. "Where's the Og Mad Dog at?"

"Probably sticking his foot up your ass," I mutter, sending the captain a strained smile. I don't have a problem with anyone that has an issue with my boyfriend. He comes off as mean, has a bad attitude, and can be quite intimidating, so I get why most people don't get along with him or have bad vibes around him. Despite that, I can't help that I don't click with Oikawa. He annoys me. His ego, his player vibes, his cockiness, his ego again; I just can't overlook how he acts.

"Oh La La, you little poodle. You got teeth too, don't you?"

"Ya, and she uses them on my neck every night," Kentaro growls from behind me, the suddenness breaking my defiance instantly. I can be a hard ass now and again, but he's a hard ass ninety percent of the time. "Jealous much?" He grumbles, his hand back around my throat, squeezing it enough to cut off a bit of my airway.

"Knock it off," Kentaro's ace and arch-rival butts in, smacking the captain upside his head. "You knock it off too," the older boy adds, shooting my pup a glare.

Kentaro grumbles, head bowing down again to nibble on my neck, his teeth sliding against the skin right above his fingers. "Dumb shitty-kawa. Sizing up my baby, calling you a damn poodle, dumb ass little," he cuts off his ramble with a soft growl, snipping at my skin a little harsher.

"Ken-Chan," I whisper, tugging my head away from his teeth.

He grumbles a sorry, his tongue quickly lapping at the sore spot before he jerks away from me; no more teeth and no more fingers pressed into my neck. "I got you a salad - don't start bitching," Kentaro cuts himself off, ending my pouting fit before I can start it. "I got you a chocolate bar and one of those stupid cold coffee things you drink."

The food is laid in front of me, my pissy boyfriend sitting sideways on the bench as he continues to simmer over his fights with Oikawa and Yahaba. Reluctantly, Kentaro rests his head on my shoulder, shooting glares toward his captain.

I pop the salad open, working on opening my utensils and mixing the contents and sauce of the salad. Every few bites, I hold a fork full toward him. Kentaro grumbles during everyone, insisting he 'doesn't need that rabbit food' but eats every bite I offer.

Slowly, his simmering ends, my pup loosening a bit as things settle down. When Kentaro is finally settled, his head shifts, chin on my shoulder so he can stare at my profile. His arms stretch out, one in front of me and the other one behind my back. His joints pop and crack as he stretches, the front arm resting across my hips as the back one toys with my skirt, fingertips balling up the material of my waistband so he can cling to me.

He uses the hold on my skirt to pull me closer, the leg closest to him being shifted onto his lap. Kentaro's mouth is attached to my neck again, a bit of teasing rising but quickly shot down by a glare. He sucks gently, his canines sliding against my skin now and again as he enjoys himself.

I swear my boyfriend has an oral fixation, the hickeys coating my thighs, chest, and stomach being proof of that. If Kentaro wasn't worried about ruining my perfect school record, I'm sure my neck would be littered in proof of his mouth too. "Talk," he orders, snipping at my neck again, careful not to nick me like he did before.

"I think I'm going to do teal for my - "

"No."

"- I suppose I can do the honey color again. Maybe I'll get yellow with black stripes on my ring fingers to match your hair," I ramble, doing what my boyfriend wants. Kentaro isn't much of a talker but he enjoys listening, so our conversations are usually me talking nonstop with him offering grunts or short answers in response.

He happily settles back to gently sucking and nibbling on my skin, one hand clinging to my skirt tighter as the other one starts toying with my waistband. Clingy, moody, pooch of mine.

————————————

A long huff is pushed out of Kentaro's nose as he holds the salon door open for me. A salon isn't his place, my edgy boyfriend standing out like a sore thumb surrounded by so many women, the soft music, and the pastel pink vibe of the place.

Despite the space unofficially being a 'women only' place and relatively safe, he's still attached to me. His hand is loosely settled on my stomach, opening me up to be enveloped by the rest of him, head on a spiral, and his usual resting bitch face present.

"Welcome... in," the receptionist greets, starting cheery but the tone quickly falls when her eyes slide over to Kentaro.

Her eyes jump around my boyfriend, taking in the piercings littered across his eyebrow, his nose, and the dozen or so punched into his ears. She doesn't know - I sure do - about his tongue being pierced too. Outside of school and volleyball, Kentaro is always decked out in black and gold. Gold piercings, gold rings, and his gold chain necklace.

The jewelry paired with his eyeliner, his full black outfit of a hoodie and ripped jeans, his perfectly polished combat boots, and the dyed blonde hair give off an irking vibe. One that is making the receptionist nervous.

Instinctually my hand shifts backward, fingertips wrapping around the chains hanging out of his pocket, one keeping his wallet clipped to his pants and the others being his 'edgy' jean chains. His hand slides off my hip, wrapping up in the chains so his fingertips can rub against mine.

"We have a four-thirty nail appointment. It should be under Kyotani," he grumbles, jerking me closer to his body. Despite his hardness, Kentaro is pretty good at calming down my social anxiety.

"Um... the... the appointment is for... one person?"

"Ya," he grumbles, bitch face shifting into more of a 'you're dumb' expression.

"You should get your nails done with me," I murmur, yanking on the chains as I turn my head up to look at him.

"I'm not doing that pussy shit," he rumbles, flicking his eyes at me before settling on the receptionist.

"Please?" I try pushing, adding a hint of a whine to my tone. "We could get matching nails. You could do black with yellow strips. It would be cute."

"No."

"Pretty please?" I repeat, adding more of a whine to my voice. I drop the chains from my hold, my arms wrapping around his neck to tug him closer to me. A growly sigh rumbles in Kentaro's throat, a pissy look stamped on his face as one of his eyes twitches. "For me? Please?"

He jerks a bit, standing up straight but leaving my arms wrapped around his neck. "Could I change the appointment to a double manicure?" He mumbles, gently dragging me forward so we're closer to the desk.

"Sure," the receptionist peeps out, clicking at the computer for a few moments. "It'll be a few moments until we can take you back," she whispers, tone super soft as she motions towards the waiting chairs.

I'm jerked in the direction of the chairs, Kentaro dragging me toward the waiting area. He settles into a chair, full man spread going on as he tugs me backward. I'm left between his legs, sitting in his lap with the wallet and phone in his pockets being pressed into my ass. He has no shame, hands shoved under my shirt and rubbing just above the waistband of my pants.

It doesn't take long until his mouth is attached to my throat, sucking just below the start of my jaw. His fingers jab into one of the hickeys poking out above my waistband, small waves of numbing pain aching from the force. My nerves are on edge, glances and judgmental looks being aimed our way. All of which are shot back a glare from Kentaro.

"Mr and Ms Kyotani?" A voice calls after a few minutes, another long huffy sigh flowing from my boyfriend.

He stands up, pushing me out of his lap as his hands push on my stomach, stopping me from any possibility of falling over. "That's us," I chirp, waving at the masked lady as I try shoving down my anxiety and the soft buzz of being referred to by my boyfriend's last name.

The lady nods, motioning us forward. Kentaro leads me, his arms tightening on me when we pass a male nail tech. He shoots the uninterested man a glare too, as jealous as ever. "Damn jerk, can't keep his eyes to himself," he grumbles, nipping at my earlobe.

"Maybe he's just staring because you're trying to crawl into my skin," I coo, trying to loosen his hold on me. Kentaro gives in, letting his arms hang loose on me as we finish the walk.

"One here, one here," the lady orders, tapping the spot in front of her and then the spot in front of the nail tech next to hers. We settle into our chairs, my hands instantly jumping up to lie on the small table. Kentaro's eyes flicked toward me before he repeats the action. "What are we doing to your nails today?" The lady asks, settling into her chair before she snatches my hands, looking them over.

"I want them a sort of pale yellow, as close to his hair color as possible," I start explaining, nodding toward Kentaro. "Then two horizontal black lines on both my ring fingers. He wants black with the same ring design but in the yellow of my nails," I finish explaining, turning toward his nail tech to fill her in on his request. Both ladies nod, leaving us long enough to fetch the colors I asked for and whatever else they need.

"This is dumb. I'm going to get so much shit from the team," Kentaro bitches, slouching in his chair with his hands still pressed flat to the table.

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to. It's fine, puppy," I hum, shrugging my shoulders. It would make me a bit sad if he bowed out now after agreeing to get his nails done with me, but I want Kentaro to be happy. Bickering and teasing from his teammates over his nails being painted won't make him happy.

"It's not fine," he barks, glancing around when heads shoot our way. "You asked me to do it so I'm going to do it," he grumbles, tone a lot softer this time. "And stop calling me that."

"Would you prefer asshole?" I tease, a smile crawling on my face.

"Don't call me that either," he pouts, slouching in his chair more with his arms crossed over his chest. "Puppy is fine," he grumbles, sparing me a glance as he keeps up his half pissy half pity party act. "I can't believe I'm doing this dumb shit."

"Then don't do it."

"I already told you I'm doing it," he barks again, his tone still a lot softer than before but as bitchy as ever. "I have a gross want to make you happy. If making you happy looks like dumb cheesy ass matchy girl nails then that's what I'll do."

"It will make me happy."

"Good," he grunts, some of the tension in his body loosening at the knowledge that his actions are bringing me joy. The tension isn't gone for long, the tightness of his shoulders reappearing when the nail techs make their way back to us. "This is so dumb," Kentaro mutters, straightening up and placing his hands on the counter again.

"Thank you," I murmur, sending him a soft smile. He sends me a grunt in response, a twitch of a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

————————————

I'm in a bad mood as soon as my baby's classroom door closes behind me. I hate school, I hate Tuesdays, I hate my teacher, I hate not being in my baby's class, I hate having to wait for break to see my baby again, and I hate that Yahaba and Shitty-kawa are waiting for me in the hallway.

"So, it seems our Mad Dog went to the groomers yesterday," the team's captain teases, his phone waving around in his hand. He has my baby's Snapchat pulled up; more specifically the annoying finger heart picture she had me take with her after our nails were done.

Maybe it's not that annoying. It was un-annoying enough that I saved it and set it as my new lock screen. Okay... maybe I didn't find it annoying at all. Maybe I didn't even find the nail appointment annoying. Maybe the nail appointment was so un-annoying that a tiny, teeny piece of me wants her to ask me to get matching nails next week too.

Oikawa on the other hand is the most annoying thing in the world. But, I don't see Iwaizumi anywhere so maybe the situation isn't all that bad. "So what if I did? Pissed off you don't have a girl to get your nails done with?"

"Oh, Mad Dog-Chan, your naiveness is adorable. I could ask any girl in the school to go get her nails done with me and she would," he gushes, a mix of condescending and fake sweetness lacing his words.

"Really?" I ask, a grin crawling on my face. I have him beat out on this one and I don't even have to get physical. My baby is going to be proud of me for handling my obnoxious captain 'maturely' instead of 'physically' this time.

"You know it, Kyo-Chan," he chirps, a mirrored grin on his face.

I let out a "hmph" stepping backward to push the door to the classroom I just left open. "Hey, baby?" I call, turning sideways so I can see her. My baby's head perks up, full attention on me instead of getting her supplies out for her first class of the day. "Do you want to go get your nails done with Oikawa?"

Her nose curls up instantly, eyebrows pushed together in a 'are you fucking serious' sort of expression. "Ew, no, gross," her answer spills out, covering some of the mixed excitement and jealous chitter chatter of Oikawa's fangirls.

"I didn't think so," I mutter, stepping forward again and letting the door swing shut behind me. "I guess you won't get a yes from 'any girl in the school'," I taunt, sending the cocky setter another snug smirk before I start walking away. Yahaba quickly joins next to me, muffling his laughter.

"Your nail polish looks streaky. Maybe stop being a cheapskate and go to a better nail tech," Captain yells after us, a bit of huffiness in his tone.

"A cheapskate doesn't spend sixty dollars at a nail salon, dumbass, they just do it themselves," I yell over my shoulder, flipping him a perfectly black painted bird.

That makes Yahaba's laughter spill over, filling the hallway with the joy-filled sound. It wasn't that funny but I do have to admit, I like proving Shitty-kawa wrong. "I swear," he pushes out between chuckles, "the captain and you could fight over what color the sky is. You just don't know when to walk away from a fight, do you?"

"No, I don't, especially when he wants to be an ass about something I did with my baby. It made her happy, why the fuck does he have a stick up his ass about it?" I grumble, shoving my hands into my pockets. Once I noticed what I did, I tug them back out, not wanting to hide the matchy girly shit I did for my Baby.

"Maybe he just likes getting a reaction out for you. Have you ever thought of that?" Yahaba asks, his laughter done but a smile still on his face.

I shrug my shoulders, Oikawa's teasing still rattling around my head. I have thought about it, I know he only does and says shit to get under my skin, and I know I fall for it every time, but it's his fault. He pushes every button possible until I snap. Pressing a button about my Baby instantly makes me snap, so that's on Shitty-kawa, not me.

"He just needs to leave shit alone. So, what? I went to a nail appointment with my baby. It doesn't affect his life any, so he should just leave it alone." Yahaba shrugs, his smile growing on his face. I don't know why he's so giddy about my Baby and me. It was one dumb nail appointment, who gives a shit?

Me. I give a shit, because she spent the whole afternoon smiling, because her eyes were glued to our hands anytime they were wrapped together, because it made her happy, and that's what I live for. To see her smile, to make her happy, to her hear scream my name after a successful spike. It's almost gross, but I can't help the calm feeling that washes over me when I remember how damn smiley she was when she first saw our matching nails. Next week I'll have to remember to schedule a two-person nail appointment.

#haikyuu #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #kentaro kyotani #kentaro x reader #kentaro oneshot #kyotani x reader #kyotani oneshot #mad dog x reader #mad dog oneshot #Haikyuu mad dog

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bugeater101 · 1 year

Text

Stop Hitting Yourself

Synopsis: After four years of high school, you were sick and tired of Yang Jeongin. However, your inexperience with relationships combined with his persistence have you questioning your feelings towards him. Now, in the final stretch of your secondary education, you've somehow been paired up with that brute in a project. Yet, your study plans in the library take a different turn when you let your curiosity (and his perseverance) get the better of you.

Content: bully!Jeongin x nerd!fem!reader, plus size!reader, virgin!innocent!reader (doesn't know anything besides basic biology), dom!Jeongin, big dick!Jeongin, Jeongin is a dumbass (also oscillates between like cold bad boy and golden retriever boy), hand kink, reader has small hands, Jeongin has huge hands (duh), enemies to lovers, school AU, the reader is a bit insecure and endures a lot of bullying by Jeongin (teasing, mocking, comments related to glasses, no other negative comments related to appearance), mentions of smoking, 0-100 kind of plot, groping, spanking, pain kink, oral sex (male!receiving), crying, degradation, slight size kink, public sex, unprotected sex (please where a condom!!), mentions of breeding, vaginal penetrative sex, a hella cute epilogue.

Word Count: ~16.9 k (I AM SO SORRY)

Author's Notes: This fic is for my lovely and patient followers and hte amazing anon who sent in this request! Also, even though this AU takes place in a high school setting, please note that both Jeongin and the reader are 18+ in this fic. Minors, do not interact! This work also follows a lot of stereotypes about like "nerds" and "bullies" but bear with me y'all. If you ever find yourself in a similar situation, trussss that it is not because the bully is harbouring some crush on you. This fic uses such dynamics to simply build towards the smut and power dynamics. To quote Tyler the Creator, "Hey, don't do anything I'm about to say." Also, I would eventually love to do another and much shorter part two, but that is an idea for another time. Thank y'all as always!

Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z @taekbokki,@imtoooyoungforthisshit, @jihanlovic, @compersian

You had three goals once you entered high school: get good grades, stay out of trouble, and try to have fun.

Yang Jeongin, however, seemed hell-bent on destroying any semblance of peace in your life. In fact, you bet that his whole schedule was dedicated to manifesting your misery. Or, possibly, he just brought torment with him wherever he went.

Nevertheless, it was accurate to claim that his purpose (in your perception) was to make you miserable. For the past school year, you had seen more of Jeongin than you ever wished to: your schedules put him in at least two classes with you every semester for four years and you also lived relatively close to one another. So, your encounters were frequent, expected, and... "memorable", to say the least.

Every day since freshman orientation, you have been forced to acknowledge Jeongin's existence on a daily basis. Almost immediately, he adopted a particularly cruel stance toward you. When it all first started, his taunts were just for fun and to seek attention, to say the least. Now, he just seemed mean. Not to anyone in particular: Jeongin was just a generally disagreeable person, and especially to you. And it hurt.

Obviously, it hurt, who would not be hurt if they found themselves in such circumstances?

It was embarrassing to admit it, but Jeongin's indifference toward you was often offset by your more "cordial" feelings toward him. Actual motherfucking cordial feelings. In other words, you had harboured a small, tiny, minuscule, microscopic crush on him that even his meanest days could not challenge. So, you've had a crush on Jeongin since you first met him and it has been the dumbest thing you've ever done.

You remember when you first saw him. It was orientation for high school, the first day of the semester. You were a freshman and he was too. However, your appearance alone separated you and him into two distinct social categories. Like the delinquents that were his so-called friends, he wore his uniform messily: tie loose, shirt untucked, sneakers, and messy hair. Everything he did was with an insufferable air of nonchalance and disrespect, almost aggressive in the languid, lazy movements he made. Even his walk reeked of a cockiness that altered the milieu of the room. You couldn't believe how intolerable he was, nor could you believe how your cheeks flushed at the mere sight of him. High cheekbones, a fox-like face, slender build but definitely on the muscular side. God, not to mention he was big. He was tall, at least taller than the other boys in your grade. His height alone made him stick out like a sore thumb, not to mention his clothing. He had immediately caught your eye and it made you sick.

And then there was you: you were just as out of place as he was, but for entirely different reasons. Your hair was proper, your glasses were well polished, and your uniform was always ironed. Of course, the uniform rarely fit properly as you were bigger. The shirt never buttoned right and the skirt was too short in the back, making you feel much more out of place than you would have liked. Other than your rather ill-fitting uniform, your propriety and intelligence made you the odd one out. You contrasted much of the student population in those respects, especially Yang Jeongin.

For lack of a better word, you were a fucking loser. And so was Jeongin. But at least he owned it. Maybe that was what you liked about him, that he knew he wasn't much and didn't have to prove himself through school or other activities. Either that or how fucking attractive his jawline was or his messy hair.

Jeongin and his friends managed to sit somewhat near you during orientation. He couldn't see you from his position, but you could see him. His confident stare, the flirtatious grin he flashed, and the troublesome giddiness in his eyes would normally make you well annoyed. But, with him, it was somehow different, like he wasn't just another stupid boy you couldn't wait to ignore and forget. God. It was like some trope where he was the bad boy and you were some know-it-all who was desperate for some freedom, which he could offer you.

The entire assembly went over your head as your eyes transfixed on the boy who sat in front of you with his giggling gaggle of friends and troublemakers. You swore he thought he was one of the cutest boys you'd ever seen.

That all quickly changed once you got to know him.

You only had two classes with him that year but they were unforgettable due to the sheer torture he put you through. He would tease you, take your notes, copy off of your tests, and sometimes right his name on your homework (and he would still manage to get shitty grades). Needless to say, your fondness for him obviously and quickly diminished.

Yet, you still knew that those feelings hadn't entirely disappeared. They were still there, just somewhere deep down. However, some nights, those feelings were quite shallow and you didn't need to search so deeply to find them, as if you could reach out and touch them with ease. It happened late at night and only in the shroud of darkness. Your head would either be too busy or too slow, as if the overbearing presence of thoughts or their complete absence somehow created a tunnel to your most shameful yet needful desires. Though you wouldn't like to admit it, at these moments you find yourself pining for him. And then you feel those feelings, the ones that you don't really understand but you're too embarrassed to even type the words into the search bar and figure out what's going on so you just deal with them. And then you spend the night lying in your bed, tossing and turning to your memories of Jeongin, wondering what he would be like if he were here with you now.

Fuck. You need a boyfriend, or to at least get laid.

Yeah. You're inexperienced, but you know the basics. At least, you think you do. When it comes to Jeongin, all logic gets thrown out the window. You often find yourself wondering what you actually want to do with him: to kill him or… God, you couldn’t even think of the filthy things you wanted him to do to you. Maybe it was because you were too embarrassed to think such things, or maybe it was because you truly didn’t know what to think. Despite acing AP biology and understanding how everything physiologically works, your lack of experience has made you rather ill-equipped when it comes to anything romantic or "alleviating" those feelings you have when you think about Jeongin. Either way, your mind was blank when it came to him, especially those feelings that make you toss and turn and pray that weird giddy feeling goes away.

Now, after four years, you can practically taste your liberation from him. However, it's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore his teases. Not only is he becoming more annoying by the second, but it also seems like he is just getting fucking hotter. Especially when he magically starts paying attention in class and you finally have a chance to stare at him uninhibited, as if being free from his constant attention finally gives you a chance to admire him. It looks like you are staring off into space, but really you are studying him. His pretty face, how good he would look if he cleaned himself up a bit more, or even admitting to yourself how good he looks all scruffy. You would study his body, how slender he is, how you want to feed him good desserts, how you think he would be the type of boyfriend to never resist eating his partner's food. Then you would acknowledge how he keeps his nail beds clean. How nice his hands are, overall. How nice they would be to hold. How big they are, how veiny... how that insinuates he is big and veiny in other places.

...Okay, so you weren't completely out of the dating sphere. You were naive, but you knew how everything worked. However, you also knew that there was more than just strange feelings and vaginal penetration and orgasms and pregnancy and yada yada yada: there was more beyond sex than just sex. But, of course, you never worked up the courage to simply type lewd searches into Google or bother to ask any of your friends about it. Except for the hand thing, which is just that: a hand thing. A thing you have for hands, Jeognin’s hands, and yeah. Just a hand thing. Nothing else. Yeah.

Anyways, you remained—more or less—in the dark about sex. Though you would like to know more, you know that you've only felt certain feelings towards Jeongin, and only him, of all people. For any logical person, it is better to bury those feelings deep inside than let yourself accept that they are awoken by a ghastly man who cares little for you or your well-being.

You'd rather stick to your studies, anyways.

Today, however, was a particularly irritating day. Normally, Jeongin enjoyed following you around, jeering rude chants at you with his friends (your favourite was the classic and unoriginal "Hey four-eyes!" followed by a chorus of giggles), or trying to wrap his arm around you as you walked down the hall. Every time, you brushed him off. However, Jeongin's irritability was off the charts since he decided that today was the day to dress in a particularly irritating fashion. He had completely disregarded his school uniform altogether. Why did this of all things make you mad, exactly? Because he looked fucking amazing.

Wrinkled white shirt. Loose tie. And sweatpants. Not just any sweatpants, but grey sweatpants. God, it was like he was trying to annoy you. How could he look so good while wearing something so informal? He was borderline infuriating in his presence alone, now you had to cope with how his sweatpants left little to the imagination. Though you wished that someone would put a stop to this reign of terror, you knew that the school administration had completely given up trying to control him at this point. This institution had become Jeongin's domain and you were intended to suffer through it as well as your rage-based attraction to him. Nevertheless, you pushed those feelings below your impermeable layer of school-related anxiety and ignored them. You found this trick especially useful to you when he was your lab partner in chemistry last year. It is an especially useful tool now considering you were seated across from him.

While you tried to keep your eyes focused on the board in front of you and not on the hunk of the man to your left, the task immediately became easier once your teacher announced the first big project of the semester.

"This project will weigh at around 20% of your grade and will replace this module's exam." Sighs of relief passed through the class in waves, the whole class happy to know that they just have to make a powerpoint rather than study all night for a written test that they would likely fail. Peace, however, was momentary.

"However,” your teacher continued, “since this project is a large amount of work, it will be done in groups of two." You gave a quick smile to your friend and desk partner to your right, who smiled back.

"The groups, however, have been randomly assigned." Your faces both dropped. Actually, everyone stopped smiling. Then, waves of groans moved through the class.

"Stop complaining," the teacher sighed, rubbing her eyes. "To create a conducive learning environment that limits your amount of fun, I randomly assigned each of you to someone in the class who you likely do not talk to. I will post the partners at the end of class and I suggest that you start working on the project ASAP and throughout the weekend because it's due in a week." Another wave of groans rolled through the class and was immediately followed by complaints, questions, exasperated sighs, and a particularly harsh exhale from you. You hated assigned group projects. Due to your reputation, you were usually expected to carry the project along with whoever you were assigned. You never really minded the work as long as you got to choose your partner. Essentially, if the partner was your friend, you would happily and easily do all the work. But now that the teacher has “randomly selected” your partners (she surely just put them through a random assigning program), you felt your blood boil. Jeongin, however, was surely silently rejoicing at the announcement of a group-based project: it meant that he could coast by like he normally did in group projects.

The rest of the class drudged on with great exhaustion. Everyone loathed the prospect of seeing who they were paired up with at the end of it. The worst thing was that it was the Friday of a long weekend. School was meant to be the last thing on anyone's mind until Tuesday came around. You all should have been blessed with the freedom of three days off and whatever it entailed: drinking, parties, staying out late, suspicious excuses given to your guardians, small friend groups loitering at the park at night, getting high then going to the 7/11, and hangovers that you thought were terrible but would seem like small headaches when you're 22 and trying to keep up with college-level drinking. This was what the weekend was for. However, this teacher obviously loved to ruin everyone's time and force them to study and work on this project.

With the final bell, the teacher headed out first followed by a mass of same-dressed students who were eager to see the possible stranger that they would be paired with. Jeongin left first, keen to leave but also being able to leave easily as he had brought nothing to class. After a few minutes, you and your friend followed behind the crowd, watching the mass of students as they shoved to look at the list of partners on the corkboard. Some sulked away, others jeered as they had been blessed with the partnership of a friend. Jeongin was one of the first to walk away, smiling smugly and playfully shoving his friend as they sat idly by, waiting for their partners to come to them.

After a few minutes of struggle, you and your friend finally made your way to the list.

"Who'd you get?" You ask as she studies the list first.

"That kid that sits behind us," she says.

"Oh, that's good! His name is Seungmin, he’s sweet."

"Yeah, but..." her voice trailed off.

"But... what?" You inquired, her voice making you uneasy.

"You're gonna... your partner... just, see for yourself." She steps out of the way as your finger traces down the list to find your name.

And there it is. Next to your partners. And, frankly, you can do nothing but slowly turn and look at Jeongin leaning against the lockers behind you.

He gives you a small smile and raises his eyebrows.

"We'll meet at 5 in the library! I'll see you then!" He states with a twisted grin. With those few words said, he and his friend saunter off, leaving you dumbstruck with your friend praying for your well-being beside you.

“Y/n,” she asked with a soft touch to your arm, “are you okay?” You gave a stiff nod as you watched Jeongin walk away.

God. Those fucking grey sweatpants look so good on him.

---

"You're lucky that you know the librarian well enough that we can be left alone here," Jeongin teased, looking up at the high ceilings and clearly impressed by them. His arms hung low as he carried the stack of books he had slowly accumulated in his arms. Well, you place them in his arms, he just took them because he didn’t really know what to look for or how to study or what this class was even about.

You guessed by his expression (and from your past four years of being his victim) that Jeonging had probably never even set foot in the library. In fact, he had little to no intention of doing so for his whole high school career. Yet, thanks to you, here he was.

"I don't 'know the librarian,'" you groaned. "I volunteer here. Some of us need extracurriculars on our university applications. I just have the privilege of going here enough that I get an extra key to help lock up." You placed the book you were carrying on the wooden table and Jeonin copied your action, dropping the stack of texts with a sigh.

“In other words,” Jeongin taunted, “you know the librarian well enough to come here after hours”. You shot him a look before turning to the mess of textbooks and binders in front of you.

"We wouldn't be alone after-hours if we had just started immediately after class," you stated angrily as you sorted the books into piles for you and him. "But somebody had to go smoke with his friends outside, so now we've had to come after hours to study."

"Just know that it was a really good smoke break," Jeongin replied with glee as you divided up his and your reading materials, placing the books with a hidden rage that only came from years of bullying or sexual frustration. Or, in your case, a horrid cocktail of both. After you were done, you took a seat on one side of the table and gestured for him to sit opposite you. He got the hint and sat, immediately flipping through his books and shuffling them around, not even trying to look busy.

"All I know is that we're here, alone, with no one else around and that I could trash this place if I wanted,” he continued with an air of cockiness you wanted to destroy.

At this point, you were really starting to regret everything that has ever happened to you. Sure, having a key to the school's immense library was a bonus of being a diligent student: you knew you could always escape here and it was entrusted in your care. Many times you had retreated to this place in the hopes of peace and quiet from the troubles of school. It was your sanctuary.

Now, an early library closing, a nicotine addiction, and a late study session had forced you to bring him here.

"I know you won't do that,” you shot back, “and I also know that I could just lock you in here if I wanted for the whole weekend.” Your response made his eyes go wide with what seemed to be shock and worry. However, when a smile broke out on his face, you knew that he thought your threats were empty.

"You're fun!" He cheered.

"I will lock you in here, Jeongin." You restated in a serious tone which he didn't seem to take as seriously. "Now,” you continued, “get started on studying. We have a lot to do and I have no intention of doing it alone. You need to look through the blue book. Read sections 2 to 4 and take notes on anything related to the assignment. Check the study questions, too: there could be info in the answers that could help us out."

"I hate that you're making me work," he complained in an obnoxious tone that could only be embodied by a teenage boy who had never been put in his place. "Normally I do nothing and the person just lugs me along."

"Well, I'm tired of carrying group projects, so you have to carry your own weight," you sighed. "Now. Start studying."

Jeongin gave you an eye roll before quietly retreating to his book. The silence quickly engulfed the library and you flipped through your book, looking at where to begin and fearing how much you had to tackle.

Although this was a less-than-ideal situation, it did have its perks. To be honest, you never knew Jeongin could be quiet. It was nice to take quick glances at him while he studied, his face contorted as he analyzed the text and focused on his work. Just these few moments of silence seemed to give you hope. Maybe you could make the best of a bad situation. Maybe you could use this time to make Jeongin shut up for a few seconds and let you study his handsome face before being rudely disrupted by whatever dribble he decided to shoot out. Maybe this partnering was a blessing in disguise.

Your hopes were ruined as the silence was broken.

"God!" Jeongin groaned, leaning far back in his chair. "This is so borringgggggg!" Your annoyance immediately returned to your body. He was hot, but god did he like to pester you.

"Please, Jeongin, read the passages, I beg of you," you groaned as you looked through the books to find out the sections you were meant to study.

"Ughhhh..." he sighed. Suddenly, he loudly arose, chair screeching back as he picked up his books.

"What are you doing?" You asked, annoyed and barely looking up from the books you were still sorting through.

"I'm moving next to you," he responded as he waddled towards you, moving like a child who was purposefully aggravating a parent just for the fun of it.

"Please, God, tell me why," you groaned.

"Because I'm lost!" He sighed, "I'm gonna sit by you because I hate being this far away and this lost at the same time. You have to help me Y/N if you're gonna make me carry my weight on this project."

As he slid himself and his books beside you, you prayed to every God you knew of—Jesus, Demeter, Allah, YHWH—that you would be vaporized then and there.

There was no escaping this irritation. Normally, you'd parry any advancements Jeongin made. Oftentimes, you would even take a different path home or avoid certain wings of the school altogether just to get away from him. To be clear, Jeongin didn’t actually frighten you. You weren't scared of Jeongin, you were just horribly, dreadfully annoyed with him.

However, today was not a normal situation. There was no avoiding him: you were stuck with this fucking idiot on a group project with no hope of deflecting his pokes or prods.

"Oh, wait, before you start reading you should fix your glasses. They’re falling." He mumbles, "lemme… lemme just..." he then placed his pointer fingers on the center of your lens and pushed them up, readjusting the frames but dirtying your eyesight in the process. You shot him an angry look as he giggled, hating the smudge on the glass.

"If you must know," you seethed as you wiped your glasses off and placed them beside you, "I never wear them to read and study—two activities I still hope to do, despite your presence."

"Ah!" Jeongin dramatically fell back on his chair and grasped his heart as if he had just been shot straight through it. "Words hurt, y/n! I can't believe you would say such things to me! How dare you suggest I distract you!" He cried with a great fabricated sentiment.

Again, you rolled your eyes at his giggles and flirtatious fucking smile that made him look so damn dreamy that it made you want to punch a wall.

"Jeongin, please let me get back to studying."

"Call me 'Innie,'" he responded coolly.

You let a beat pass as you tried to process what he just said.

"...What?!" You hissed at him. That certainly got your attention.

"Call... me... 'Innie.'" His smile widened and he leaned forward, his face inches from yours and moving closer as he enunciated each syllable with mischief.

Part of you wanted to push him away. You wanted to leave the library, march straight home, and write a strongly worded email to your teacher telling her that, despite her requirements, you desperately wanted to complete the assignment by yourself.

The other part of yourself, however...

Shamefully, that part wanted him to lean in closer. It enjoyed his playful smile and tone, and thought about how wonderful it was that you two were together, alone, uninterrupted. It thought about all you could do behind closed doors. It thought about things that made you anxious and confused and, frankly, made you want to turn your brain off.

So, you agreed with the former part.

"Jeongin," you stressed, leaning back. "Please go back to studying. I don't have time to play your silly name games." His exaggerated groan to your response almost made you crack a smile. Almost.

"Come onnnnnn, Y/n!" He wailed, voice echoing throughout the archives. "You don't even have to say it in public! Please! Only once!" Suddenly, he leaned in again and his face was now mere centimetres from yours. His voice was hushed and his eyes had a strange look in them, something that was serious and tempting. It seemed like he was trying to be playfully urgent in his words, but his voice made each syllable come across as languid, as if he were edging you on, almost daring you to obey him.

"Just say it to me. Now, in private,” he pleaded.

Uh oh. That part of your brain that you tried to ignore was coming at you with a vengeance. You hardly noticed that your cheeks were starting to burn. Gathering all control, you tried to put an end to this foolishness.

"We won't ever be alone together after next week,” you replied calmly.

"What... what makes you say that?" He asked with a discouraged curiosity.

"Well... I can't imagine you'd want to hang out after this... after all..." you trailed off.

"After all...? What?" He continued, "After all 'I'm the smartest person in the district and intend to graduate top of the class so I don’t have time to hang out and do scumbag shit with my bestie Innie?"

Okay. Maybe Jeongin actually could humour you. After all, that impression is spot on. The blush on your cheeks had cooled now, but you had not noticed: your mind was too busy malfunctioning over the fact that you were smiling at something Yang Jeongin said to you. Jeongin had genuinely brought a smile to your face, and he seemed to notice, too.

"Woah! There's your smile!" Jeongin jeered, "I've been trying to get you to smile for like three or four years! 'Bout time!"

And just like that, your smile had disappeared without a trace. Your facial muscles even relaxed immediately, feeling no lingering strain from the act. How dare a fucking man tell you to smile, and to try and say that he has been wanting you to do so for four fucking years after bullying you for those same four goddamn years?! You felt like your chest would explode.

"What?! Where did it go?!" Jeongin whined, defeated and pouty because of it. "Pleeasseeeeeee smile again, y/n! You look so adorable when you do! I mean, you always do, but your smile! And I know you need your glasses and you look so cute with them, but I can finally see your whole face without them! Come oonnnnnnnnnn! Smileeeeeeee!!!"

Woah. Okay. Those words had sent that stupid, gullible, optimistic part of your brain into a frenzy. However, you clenched your jaw and kept a steady breath. You couldn’t let yourself get carried away as you knew it was all just a game to him. Everything was a game to him.

If Jeongin was telling the truth and that he thought you were “cute” or “always looked adorable”, you would have truly allowed yourself to believe his words. You would have beamed knowing that he thought it was beautiful if you did or didn’t smile, unable to hold back a response to his affection. If he was telling the truth, you were even ready to blush, beg, plead, flirt—whatever it took to keep him talking about how pretty you looked.

Yet, you are a pessimist, through and through. Before your imagination could run off with the idea that Jeongin’s words were honest and genuine, your heart twined knowing that whatever he was saying was likely far from the truth. What Jeongin said was likely rooted in some foolish, mean-spirited, and twisted way of teasing you. He always did something like this after annoying you: poke the bear then tell it how lovely it looks before it has the chance to chase him down. It was just like those boys in junior high who would yell across the class claiming that “his friend liked you" while the very same friend made disgusted faces. The boys would laugh then, as if the very idea of loving you was a joke. The girls, however, would share a solemn silence, a solidarity only experienced by the victims of female adolescence and the macabre. A

After all these experiences, you knew two things: boys were assholes and they were bullies. And Jeongin was part of them.

So, at this moment, you felt dizzy from the sheer humiliation of his words and your bubbling hatred. You couldn’t believe that Jeongin had the audacity to tease you like this, to say you were pretty when you knew that he had nothing positive to say about you. Saying such sweet things to you with nothing but ill intent behind them made you want to tackle him. Fuck his good looks or his conceited yet insanely attractive attitude.

So, instead of letting yourself be hopeful and toy with the idea that he may actually be saying a nice thing, you did what you did every time: move past it and try to suppress your anger.

Clearing your throat, you returned to your book.

"Affection and coquetry won't work on me, Jeongin," you stated, eyes burning into the pages to try and ward off the pain in your stomach from his words.

"Oh, really?"

God. When will he learn to give up?! He leaned playfully on his hand and swiftly placed his elbow on the table, simultaneously and seamlessly nudging your book out of the way with a coy smile. The act made you huff through your nostrils and dignify his presence with a glare. He didn’t even register the pain his words had caused you.

"They won't," you respond emotionlessly. All your emotions, however, became quite clear as you pushed your book back to its rightful place and shoved his elbow out of the way in the process, making him hiss from the pain. "And I doubt anything you do to me would count as flirtation."

Jeongin's sour face from the ache in his arm quickly changed to a wide-eyed, agape look. Oh no. The face of mischievous curiosity.

"I take that as a challenge!" He boomed.

"Oh, God, please smite me now," you mumbled, anxiety and rage rising.

"I just gotta figure out what you like about me and just really capitalize on it," he pondered aloud.

Well. That statement made you scoff.

"I like nothing about you," you dryly stated.

“Oh, come on!” He responds, hoping your words were of off-beat humour rather than born from frankness. Your annoyance was boiling over, unable to contain it.

“No, it’s true,” you stated with malice. “You tease me about my looks and try to make me feel pretty just to tear me down. It’s honestly sickening and, frankly, after four years, it’s kind of unoriginal, Jeongin.”

“Y/n, what?”

There was no humour in your voice in the next words you spoke, no inkling that what you said could be taken lightly. You had let yourself speak freely and felt the burn of horrid words as they dripped from your tongue.

“In fact, I would say I’d rather hate you. Extremely so.”

Silence engulfed the room. Not even the squeak of the chair as Jeongin shifted could be heard. You glanced up at the boy beside you. Jeongin was still and silent: two things he never was.

"...What?" you asked, your words met with no response but the cold echoes of the library.

“Y/n, how could you say that?” His voice almost cracked as he asked the question. You glanced up at him and caught his eyes. They were glassy, empty.

Oh no.

Oh no... that dreadful empathy inside of you made your heart ache and your stomach churn. How could you feel so horrible after saying one mean thing when he's been nothing but disrespectful to you for four years?!

"I, umm... I—I mean" you tried to defend yourself without seeming like an asshole, which was becoming increasingly difficult as your mind raced to fill the space. However, you realized you had nothing positive to say at all. “Ah, fuck it,” you whispered under your breath. “Jeongin, be serious. Why would I like anything about you when you are nothing but mean to me?"

"Mean to you?!" He spat back, breaking from his hurt trance and turning to anger, simultaneously exacerbating your rage. "When have I ever—!"

"You've been mean since the moment we met!” You shot back, “"You taunt me, tease me, and even follow me when we run into each other. It is hard enough dealing with academic stress, then I'm paired with the bully that makes my life a living hell and—"

"Bully?" He repeated with some distaste in his mouth and a saddened look on his face. "Is that what I am to you!?"

"What else would I call someone who's followed me every day for four years and has done nothing but jeer at me with his friends?! It is hard enough wanting to please everyone and excelling at school despite what I tell myself. But then I get some guy harassing me every day like it's his fucking day job. What else would I call him if not a 'bully'?! What, Jeongin, what?!"

The library walls repelled your voices again and let its old age absorb the hateful things you spat at each other. Slowly, the sound waves dissipated and silence consumed the wooden room. As the quiet settled, Jeongin let a beat pass, nothing to be said as he, too, let your words sink in.

"I... I just wanted..." His voice was hard, stern at first. Then, he sighed, cleared his throat and darted his eyes away, tone changing to a nervous and humble one. "I just… I'm sorry, y/n. Please know that, okay? I never meant for it to be like that or to go this far or even in this direction. Please know that."

The library had never seemed so unsettling to you until this moment.

Your mind dissected his words, prodding them and pulling them apart and trying to find if he was being malicious. Strangely enough, his words seemed... genuine.

Great. This meant two things: 1) that he was genuinely sorry after bullying you for four years, and 2) that, if you wanted to be the bigger person, you had to accept it. Worst of all, your brain came up with the perfect way to accept his apology and also humble yourself, and you really hated how perfect it was and how humiliating it would be. Sometimes, your really fucking hated how your brain worked.

"Innie,” you said softly, “Thank you.”

Jeongin's eyes went wide, so wide you swore they would pop out. The gasp that followed made you believe that he would consume all the air in the room.

"Say—say it again!" He stammered out excitedly.

"No," you replied as you cracked a small smile. "Take it as a peace offering. I, the person who spoke so ill of you, am extending an olive branch to you, the man who has wronged me."

"I understand so little of that metaphor but just know that I'm happy," he smiled. You rolled your eyes at his idiocy and smiled.

However, before you could conclude the discussion and finally, finally, finally, return to your book, Jeongin raised his hand in a half heart.

Hand. Jeongin's hand.

"What... what are you doing?" You mumbled out, studying his digits.

Pretty, big hand.

Fuck. Not these thoughts. Not now.

"C'mon, y/n! I'm making a heart for you to finish! As a peace offering or a tree branch or whatever you want to call it! Like this, yeah?" He demonstrated by making the shape with both hands, making a complete heart and showing it to you with a boyish grin.

Big, soft, veiny hands.

"Uh, y-yeah, Jeongin," your hand was shaking as you raised it to his own. Fuck, they were even bigger in comparison to yours.

Hands. Hold. Touch. Big and veiny and... big...God, what well is big?

That fucking part of your mind needs to shut the fuck up before you lobotomize yourself with a #2 pencil. Luckily Jeongin’s giggles as your hands briefly met to form a heart between the two of you snapped you away from such thoughts.

"Guess we're friends now, huh?" You muttered, trying to distract your perverted inner monologue.

"Aw, y/n!!!" He boyishly cheered. His impish smile was contrasted by his low chuckle. However, your own joy was challenged when Jeongin quickly interlaced your fingers in his.

Oh no.

My tiny hand in his.

"Wait, your hands are so small!"

So big... so big compared to me... so soft, so warm...

"Y-yeah, I've heard that before."

"They’re so adorable! My hands look so big compared to yours, yeah?" His other hand lightly traced your wrist before grabbing it and forcing you to spread your fingers to compare hand sizes.

So, so big. Could barely wrap my hand around him. Could barely wrap my hand around his—

“Wow you’re right,” you responded nervously.

You started to feel that strange feeling, the one you only experienced in solitude in the dead of night, not sitting across from a man who may or may not be your bully anymore and is using you like a plaything. God, why did that thought make these feelings even stronger? You crossed your legs and hoped to squash the voice in your head.

"Like woah! I knew my hands were big but this is crazy!"

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it—

"Do you have anything else that’s big that I should know about?"

...oh fuck.

This library has gone through too many auditory extremes today. You know that this has got to be the loudest goddamn silence you have ever or will ever experience in your life. Both of your eyes were wide, your stare locked in with his as you sat engulfed in shock.

For the first time today, you felt just how hot your face was.

It felt like an eternity was passing within these seconds of horrifying, dreadful awkwardness. You prayed that once you would finally blink that he just be gone. Sadly, he still sat there, face unchanging and unforgiving.

His hands still held your own.

Breaking the silence, he let out the driest of coughs.

"Well, it's—"

"I-I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's—It's no worries, truly," he stammered over. The silence came again, but less horrendous this time. Or maybe it was worse, you couldn't decide. All you noticed was the fact that his hand still hadn't left yours.

Jeongin decided to speak again, quieter this time. His eyes were wide, but glancing around frantically, trying to search for the right words. A harsh blush was forming down his ears and hard turned his honeyed skin into a scarlet red. You were strangely comforted knowing that he was just as mortified as you.

"I-It's wrong you know." He hesitated to continue. You, however, were all ears.

"Jeongin," you said slowly, "whatever do you mean?" He sighed, embarrassment consuming him.

"My friends looked it up and... apparently nose length is a more accurate measure.... but... you know..." Though you were fascinated to learn about this new little tidbit of info and that Jeongin actually knew something, you were way too focused on what he wanted to say.

"But what?" you asked in a small voice. His palm was sweating against yours as heat radiated from him.

"Well, just that.. you know... it's not like a rule. There are exceptions. It's just like a theory, yeah?" You nodded, glad to understand what he meant by that. Yet, you swore, that as he finally dropped his hand, exposing your skin to the bitter air of the dusty library, Jeongin uttered a brief "I should know." Though you wanted to poke and prod, you opted to just nod and turned with him towards the table, staring at the stack of unread books.

“Anyways…” you said, breaking the silence, “let’s get started.” Still, you couldn't help but sneak quick looks at Jeongin's face, trying to decide whether or not his nose was longer or shorter than average.

This had to be your least productive and positively worst study session ever.

"What section do I have to read again?" Jeongin asked.

Oh, thank God he said that. You much preferred harassing him about not paying attention than whatever the hell you just experienced.

"I told you," you sighed, flipping open his book and pointing at the contents. "These sections! 2 to 4! Please! Start!"

"But what if I get borreedddddd?" Jeongin groaned. There he was! There’s the annoying Jeongin you know. "I can barely see what you pointed at anyways! Can’t you just help me out?"

"Ohmygod," you muttered, tired but willing to do anything if it meant he shut up and study. "If I were to help you for a bit, do you swear to properly study and leave me alone after?"

"Pinky promise!" He smiled gleefully and stuck out his extended, large pinky finger. After staring blankly at the digit, you linked your smaller pinky around his and slung your head in defeat.

"Okay," you muttered. "Let's begin."

For a bit, this plan worked perfectly. After only 20 minutes, you read through section 2 together and helped point out the more important parts of the text. The 20 minutes were difficult, however. Being this close to him, being able to smell his cologne—which was nice and smelled expensive, contrasting his scruffiness—and brushed shoulders with him was almost too much. Wow. You really were touched starved. Nevertheless, your own lameness was virtually undetectable to you. You were more focused on how well Jeongin retained the information and how neat his words were. You guessed that his utter stupidity was most likely due to his inability to focus, which was still a struggle even as you helped him. Nevertheless, as you began section 3 and were about to return to your own work, you knew that he had already come a long—

"HOW LONG HAVE WE BEEN DOING THIS?" Jeongin cried.

Ah. There he is.

"Just a little more, Jeongin, okay? Please, just be bearable. I have my own work to do," you whined, stomping your feet from exhaustion. Even when he was trying to be polite, he still knew how to get on every one of your nerves.

"Can you please just keep helping me? Just this section and then I swear you can get back to your work?" He pouted. Was... was giving you puppy dog eyes?

You sighed. Again, defeated.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, "let's start here—"

"Y/n?" He interrupted. You rolled your eyes.

"Yes?" He let your snark reply hang before smirking.

"Come closer," he nudged playfully with a smile you would almost consider flirtatious if you hadn't been constantly reminded about his disobedient behaviour for the past hour.

"Why?" You asked genuinely.

"You're squinting! You said don't read with your glasses on but it's straining your eyes! Just..." he thought for a moment, glancing around. "Ugh, whatever! Here—"

Unexpectedly, his hands found their way around your body, slinking under your legs and around your back, sliding under your thighs and brushing the exposed skin.

"Jeongin! I can just put my glasses on—" you blabbered out nervously as he continued to lift you.

"Just come here, fuck!" He shot back, finally raising you from your chair and sliding you onto his lap.

"Jeongin!" You yelped.

Normally, anytime someone picked you up made you want to scream. This, however, this made you want to die.

As if by some magical swiftness, you had now found yourself sitting on Jeongin. Well, not on him. Just between his legs. His long legs were spread out, your thick thighs barely fitting onto the chair as he caged you. And he hadn't remembered to tuck your skirt in when you sat down, so now it splayed open. It had ridden up, exposing everything but your white cotton panties, and was surely flipped onto Jeongin's pants at the back. You just prayed he couldn't see anything. However, he probably couldn't considering how close he was. Worst of all, he kept you close by resting his hands on your hips, making sure you sat still. The pads of his long fingers held your tummy softly, dipping into the fat as his thumbs rubbed slowly up your lower back.

You swore you had never felt so warm in your life. As you broke out in a sweat, you feared that his wolfishly big hands were paired with a keen sense of smell.

"There!" He giggled, resting his chin on your shoulder and leaning his head against yours, studying the book with intentness that starkly contrasted the intimacy of how he held you. "Now you can see well!"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times trying to find something to say. Though his completely nonchalant demeanour was to be expected, you were still shocked but the literal position you were in. Not to mention the way his thumbs slowly drew circles on you while his hands shifted to hold your stomach. Your stomach for godsakes. How does he know exactly where to hold you to make you feel so secure and so goddamn embarrassed at the same time?! You pressed your thighs tightly together, trying to smother the weird feeling building between them that you tried so desperately to avoid. While you squished them your legs, your thighs were simultaneously crushed on either side by Jeongin's own, which were incredibly muscular: a feature you had never noticed until you were stuck between them.

"How..." you asked, "How did you do that? Aren't I heavy?"

"Am I complaining?" He asked back, a smirk in his voice. He wrapped his arms around your waist now, tugging you closer and pressing his chest fully into your back. "If you were ‘too heavy’, you wouldn't be sitting here right now, hm?”

"I-I suppose..." You start, not knowing what to say next.

"Now," he sighed with an air of exaggerated contentment, "if you want to finish this project sOooOOoo bad, then help me study!" God, how could he have you in the palm of his hand— literally— and still manage to pester you?!

"O-okay," you stuttered unsurely. "Well, let's start here and—"

"Mhm," Jeongin hummed, still massaging your fupa lightly and pressing his chest firmly against your back. You tried to burn a hole into the bookk—a feeble attempt at trying to distract yourself.

"A-as you can see," you coughed, "this section is more about analyzing the um..."—one of his hands started to rub lower—"the events t-talked about in the previous section a-and"—the other starts moving up, ghosting over your chest and playing with the top button of your shirt, leaving your tie untouched despite how you desperately wanted to loosen it—"t-trying to c-contextualize the previous section and… p-provide some background and… umm…."

"Gosh, y/n," Jeongin chuckled as his fingers rubbed the column of buttons, "I thought you were such a good student, but you seem so distracted. It's funny really."

Maybe he’s just distracted, you tell yourself, trying to reason what in the hell was going on. After all, he can barely sit still in class and often toyed with loose hems or drew on the margins of his papers. Therefore, it was perfectly reasonable to assume that he was just doing the same now: toying with your uniform as a means of distraction. He always played with you anyways, so it was safe to assume that it was some attention deficit that caused him to trifle with you. That's all it was. Or, at least, you prayed that would be the truth. As his hand fiddled with your skirt’s hemline and the other began loosening your tie, you were just hoping that this was all some absent-minded game for him. If that were the truth, then hopefully this dreadful pressure from between your thighs would disappear. It was building with every second and your panties were now so tight, so straggling, and so wet, latching onto your folds and aiding in your growing shyness.

"J-Jeongin," you began, "c-can you—"

"Innie, please, y/n," he teased in a low voice against your ear. "To you, it's Innie." Though you wanted to scream at him for uttering that petname again, you decided to push your pride aside. You needed him to stop, and you needed to utilize every tool in your arsenal to do so.

"I-innie," you stuttered out, shivering from the warmth that lingered on your ear from his breathy voice. "Can you please stop... you know... t-touching me?"

Again, Jeongin laughed. But, this time, it was drier, with less playfulness behind it and less mercy.

"Aw, y/n," he whispered into your ear, causing you to squirm a little, "I thought we were just having fun. Are you really getting all worked up over a few little touches? I thought you would like it more, you know, considering it's my big hands doing it." His last words were strongly enunciated by his hand tugging on your tie to gain access to your collar buttons. He started to play with them as you huffed, undoing them teasingly.

You were fuming at his words, knowing that: 1) he was just doing this because—at his core—Jeongin was just a fucking asshole, and 2) he was, sadly, correct. Still, you were determined to not let him know that he was right. Knowing him in the way you do, you couldn't let him take this victory

"I-is that really what this is about? Are you really hanging on to that! I had a lapse of judgment f-for one second and—" another button was undone and he began working on the next. After this next button, your bra chest would be exposed. It was only covered by an ill-fitting bra and you silently cursed your frugal self for not investing in better undergarments. Still, you continued. You had to. "I-I just fucking hate that you'd bring it up again! You just love to make fun of me d-don't you?! God, Jeongin, it is so typical of you to t-tease me like this and—Ah!"

The sound of clattering buttons across mahogany and the sudden exposure to air frightened you. Jeongin, however, didn't seem to mind.

"I told you," he stated in a voice you had never heard him use before. "It's 'Innie'. Yes?"

Clearly, he had gotten sick and tired of you talking. He just wanted you to finally be quiet, much like how you wanted him to do the same. To accomplish this, his hands found the opening of your shirt and ripped the fabric open, scattering the last of your buttons, ruffling your shirt, and exposing your chest to him. In exposing you, Jeongin gained the upper hand. It was obvious that all pride, all power you had disappeared. However, his action had also done something else: the sensation you tried so desperately to conceal was making you hopelessly needy. You unconsciously began to twist your hips, rubbing your thighs together in hopes of eliminating the feeling.

The book in front of you was long forgotten.

"Yes..." you replied back in a small voice. "Yes, Innie. S-sorry." You could almost feel Jeongin smile behind you, but, if you truly could, you didn't notice due to his hands returning to their place on your collarbone and stomach. His fingers now languidly traced your clavicle while the other massaged your tummy, fingertips slowly digging into your skirt and pulling out the parts of your shirt that were still tucked in.

"What a good baby," he chuckled, paying no mind to the nickname, though it made you redder than blood. "So fucking horny and no way to ask it. Such a fucking pervert. I bet you wanted this, didn’t you? You're even rutting back into me. Trying to get me worked up, hm?"

"No," you gasped with deep embarrassment, "never!"

"Tut tut, y/n," he tsked. "I know you're up to something."

"If anyone is up to something, it's you!" You protested. Your exclamations only made Jeongin laugh.

"Now, now," he giggled, "you wouldn't want anyone—say, a janitor or a lingering teacher—to hear us and come in? Wouldn't it be bad to see their star pupil being fondled by the school delinquent? Wouldn’t it be bad for them to notice that you liked it?"

Fuck. He knew how to shut you up. You turned your head to catch his gaze, shame and that peculiar feeling spreading all over your body into a delightful mix that only exacerbated your guilt. He knew he had you.

"That's what I thought," he laughed. "Now—"

Quickly, his hands moved toward your chest, dragged your bra down, and began to pinch your nipples, massaging your breasts and causing you to moan. Your hips increased their shallow rolls in an attempt to alleviate the pain. As you did, you felt what you could only suspect to be Jeongin's growing erection pressing into your ass. He definitely hiked up your skirt sometime before and was enjoying the sight of his clothed cock rubbing against your panty-clad behind.

"Innie! W-what are you—?"

"Oh, baby," he laughed and he rolled your buds between his fingers, making you whimper, "You say I'm distracting you from studying, but now your acting like such a little slut from only a few touches. You're so sensitive. I swear, you could be a virgin, hm?"

You dared not respond, only offering him a shy look as he continued to rub your chest.

"Oh," he giggled, "oh, of course you are. My sweet little goody-two-shoes hasn't had anyone touch her pussy yet, hm? My little virgin baby, yeah?"

"P-pussy?" you repeated, knowing that the word was dirty from the way it left a delictable taste in your mouth.

Jeongin mused, "My my, you are inexperienced." He let out a laugh that brought tears to your eyes, though it wouldn't be the first time he had made you cry. You were so frustrated and felt so strange and your panties were so wet and surely see-through and fuck! While your mind raged. Jeongin let one of his hands slip down your body and down your stomach, moving his other hand to grope the tit it had abandoned.

"Your pussy," Jeongin continued, ignoring your squirms and internal war, "is this right here."

Everything clicked as his fingers rubbed the damp white cotton into your pussy, rubbing up and down your folds with his middle and ring finger, slowly stopping to rub your clit and make your head spin. You glanced down, noticing how large his digits were and wondered how much he could stuff inside of you.

"Such an innocent fuck toy, never been used," he rambled, tongue licking the conch of your ear and making you whimper.

"J-Jeongin—I mean, Innie," you corrected. You could tell he was pleased by the way he hummed into your ears while he nibbled on the lobe, an action that should not make you want to moan as much as it should. "P-please stop touching me, it isn't appropriate.”

"But I thought I was helping you study, y/n," he pouted in a pouty tone, fingers never ceasing their motions. "Isn't this keeping me distracted? Isn't this helping you study? I need something to fiddle with, and you’re the perfect fucking stress toy for me." A particularly harsh rub into your panties and a tight grasp on your chest made you yelp. "Aren't you liking this, y/n? Liking me touching your soaking cunt? Fuck, you even soaked through your panties, how pathetic. " He spoke humorously through gritted teeth. He returned to slowly groping you, kissing down your neck loudly and rubbing his erection into your backside. You felt like you were going to explode.

"You are, aren’t you?" he panted as he rocked back and forth into you, drooling down your neck. "I thought you were a better student than this. I thought you were such a good girl who was put off by teasing. What did you call me again? A bully?" He said the word with joking vehemence; teasingly but backed by a viciousness that made you crumble. "Would a bully do nothing but defend you for four years? Would a bully beat up any fucking nerd who insulted your intelligence? Would a bully praise you and call you pretty only to be given the cold shoulder just ‘cause you didn’t believe it? Fuck, I wonder what the school board would think if they saw you like this, being fondled by a fucking bully." His words turned to mush in your head, your brain frenzying at his confession and his touches.

"Jeongin, please, I didn’t know! P-please, I just thought you didn’t l-like me, Jeongin. I thought you were m-mean and—ah!"

Your pleas were cut short as Jeongin stood up and shoved you forward, bending you over the table as his chair loudly scraped. He ripped—literally, ripped off your shirt at the seams, the sound filling the room along with your cries, with your bra being pulled off next. You were left in nothing but your shirt and tie: Jeongin wanted you to be at least a little dressed up for him when he claimed you. He grabbed your hair by the root and pulled your head up, making you release a sound that was a mixture of a cry and moan. The pain was unbearable, but the suffering mostly came from the absence of Jeongin's hands on you. At this point, you had realized that this feeling was some disgusting, perverted form of horniness directed at a man you hated. It made you feel dirty and desperate. But, most importantly, it made you feel in dire need of relief.

"I told you, y/n," Jeongin growled in that angry voice which didn't suit your impression of him, "that isn't my name." He released your hair and let your head fall to the table.

"I'm—I'm sorry," you begged as he moved the discarded books out from under you and threw them off the table. "P-please don't do anything mean!"

Funny. It was really funny to see you beg for him. It made him chuckle dryly before he hung himself over your back, once again pressing his chest into you—which you could feel was bare, meaning he must’ve removed it in the midst of things, leaving him in only his sweats.

"Oh, my innocent little baby," Jeongin panted into your ear, "you will be sorry." Jeongin's playful and perverted voice was matched by his hands slowly tugging down your panties, an action that caused you to chant a mantra of "no's" as your pussy was exposed to the cold air. Eventually, he had gotten impatient and tore the fabric up, an act that made tears fall from your eyes.

"Aw, don't worry, y/n," Jeongin humoured after seeing your lip tremble when he returned on top of you, caging you in and rubbing his clothed cock into your exposed cunt. "I'll take such good care of you after you learn a little lesson, yeah? Don't you just love to learn knew things, you fucking inexperienced little know-it-all?" You squirmed under him, begging for more and praying that he would give it to you. Yet, it seemed that patience offered itself to Jeongin when it pleased, and now he seemed to have all the time in the world.

Slowly, he rose his body from yours and rested his hands on your ass, rubbing the flimsy skirt and toying with your fat.

"Such a dumb fucking little virgin," he groaned as he let your pussy dampen the front of his sweats, pressing his throbbing dick into your needy cunt and making you whine. "Needs to learn a lesson."

Swiftly, his hand pulled away and slapped your ass.

"Innie!" You cried from the feeling, tears continuing to fall as his hand reached up and spanked you again, filling the library with lewd sounds to accompany your moans and his grunts.

"Say my fucking name again," he whispered with venom as he continued to spank you, enjoying how your ass reddened with each hit.

"Innie, Innie! Please stop!" You sobbed, making him laugh.

"Just—a few—more," he stated, marking every few words with a repeated spank. His other hand toyed with your ass, enjoying the softness and how your untouched flesh contrasted the growing blush on the other cheek.

"Y-yes—fuck! Yes, Innie!" You whimpered.

"God, such a fast learner," he grunted, continuing. "Aren't I helping you study, now? What if I helped you study every day, yeah? Licked your little cunt every time you got an answer right and then spanked you when you get one wrong? Maybe that'll help with your studying. Do you want a study buddy, y/n? Hm? Do you?"

"Yes, fuck I do!" You sniffled in defeat. "Only Innie, only Innie can teach me. Please!"

Finally, after a loud and particularly harsh spank from Jeongin accompanied by a satisfied grunt, he decided that your study session was over. He settled his large hand on your ass and rubbed the scarlet skin to try and coax you back down. Your back rose and fell while your knees buckled from the torture he had just put you through. You let out a sharp hiss and every time Jeongin's hand lovingly fondled the abused flesh. Jeongin, however, was beyond elated and relished your pain. In another demonstration of his strength, he flipped your body over like a ragdoll and pushed you onto the table so your legs hung over the edge. He then slotted himself between his legs and greeted your puffy face with a broad grin.

"Such a good little student for Innie," he teased. Pushing into you further, he let his cock press against your soaking cunt and further drench his sweatpants in your juices. The warmth of your bares chests pressing together made you smile while the squish of your breasts made Jeongin rejoice in being able to indulge in the plumpness of your body. He placed a layer of kisses from your forehead down your face, licking away your tears and shushing your sniffles.

"Did I do good?" You sniffled. Jeongin held his body over yours, blocking the light above with his broad, bare shoulders. He looked down at you with a mixture of emotions behind his eyes which were hard to discern, but were surely good-natured, regardless of his previous actions.

"Of course, y/n," he hummed, "so good." He let his hands roam up and down your bare thighs to reassure you, coaxing a smile out of you.

"Really?" You asked with a lightness you didn't expect as you reached up to cradle his face

"Absolutely," he chuckled while only moving to lay his hand over yours. He leaned down again and resumed his trail of kisses down your neck towards your chest. Your hands helped pull him down to you. You played with his thick locks before trailing your fingers down his back muscles.

"Such—a—smart—and—pretty—girl,” Jeongin cooed between every kiss to your chest. Each kiss between his words only increased your sense of pride and the neediness between your legs. The feelings only worsened when Jeongin finally attached his mouth to your nipple while he groped the other, suckling on you with a ferocity you didn't expect.

"F-fuck," you mewled as spit trickled down your chest.

"Are you ready to continue our lesson?" Jeongin asked while moving to suck on your other breast.

"Yes, Innie" you purred as you arched your back to meet his mouth. “Always ready for you.”

He chuckled and continued to satisfy you a bit longer, caught up in your moans and almost forgetting the pain of his erection as it desperately kneaded your cunt. Despite your small protests, he finally pulled himself away. Smiling at your pouty expression, he sauntered backward and stared at your limp body before speaking.

"Stand up."

It was embarrassing how fast you rose to the ground. You were only focused on following his orders, obeying him, needing more and fearing that you would get nothing if you were disobedient. You barely even noticed how naked you were until you felt the cool air meet your spit-covered tits. Yet, when you moved to cover yourself, you stopped when Jeongin gave a look that said “I am not afraid to bend you over my lap and spank you again.” He smiled when you let your arms drop to your sides.

"She's such a good girl," he muttered aloud, reaching out to pull you forward by your tie. Your eyes were only on him and his sweat-covered chest and dishevelled hair and raw lips that kissed your body so perfectly.

He let his thumb slide up your jaw as he tugged you to him, hand sliding up your cheek and holding your face before tilting your head up. Then, as if the punishment didn’t happen, as if this annoying study session didn’t happen, as if these past four years were just a fever dream that you had finally awakened from, he leaned down and captured your lips in his. He kissed you—truly kissed you—for the first time, but, surely, hopefully not the last time.

When he finally broke away, he studied your soft eyes and offered a small kiss to your forehead, as if he were sealing you as his and promising that "Yes, I am sorry for the way things were. I'm sorry that what began as meaningless teasing just for fun turned into a fucked up crush. I am sorry that I haven't told you until now. I'm sorry that I'm such a fucking perverted loser that I couldn't just tell the beautiful girl that I had a crush on for four years that I liked her. I'm sorry that it took four years just to kiss you. I’m sorry I kissed you under such circumstances. Just know that I want you. I want you, so deeply and so passionately, so please just drop to your knees and fucking suck my cock and let me kiss you and fuck you and hold you and let me be yours and you mine." Instead of speaking the words he wished, he simply changed his stare and licked his lips, catching the lingering taste of you on them.

"Wanna learn something new?" He asked rhetorically, thumb gliding on your lower lip. You didn't even respond to him. Not a nod or a hum. You simply just allowed your mouth to open and have his thumb slip in, immediately rubbing the digit with your tongue and soaking it in spit. You didn’t want to respond or even acknowledge the act, not when you waited four goddamn years to suck his fingers.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,'" Jeongin mused. "I think you can assume what I want you to do." In response, you just gave your head a slight shake, still warming his thumb with your tongue.

"Really?" He asked in a mocking voice that made you wildly embarrassed and red. "You really are just a dumb little toy waiting to be used. Such an eager baby that wants to learn, yeah?" This time, you gave him a slight nod. Your hand traced his abs and stroked each line, unsure of what to do but unable to remain still.

"Okay then. Guess I’ll have to give my baby step-by-step instructions, yeah?" he sighed. "Get on your knees."

Needless to say, you were shocked by the request. Though you were glass-eyed at this moment and almost choking on just the length of his thumb alone, you still had a working mind; one that was not distracted by Jeongin's eagerness pressing into your lower abdomen or how he looked at you or how much he wanted you or how fucking good his chest felt or how he shivered when your hand traced over his nipples. Despite all of this, you still had a conscience, and it told you to leave. It told you that this was an embarrassing turn of events that could only end badly and that you should run away, leaving him with his cock still hard and unsatisfied, then report him to the principal for bullying or public indecency or something! You knew that you should go.

Instead, you simply sank to your knees. You still suckled on Jeongin's thumb while he shakily exhaled a chorus of "you're such a good girl, such a good student, so smart, so sweet, so soft". Your hands trickled down his abs before rubbing the soft fabric of his sweatpants that you wanted so desperately to be removed. They hung off him proudly and lowly, kept up only by a measly tied knot and displaying his adonis belt that drew your eye line downwards. When you finally settled on your knees, your fingers and eyes traced down these lines and fiddled with the top of his sweatpants. Your fingers then traced lower until your hand palmed his heavy erection, unsure of what to do as you massaged the length. He was so stiff and long and big and—

Oh. He was big. Even in your inexperience, you knew it. It must have been a good few inches above average. You gulped at his size, in awe of his length that he was done so well to hide.

"Remember what you said earlier?" He asked, removing his thumb from your pop mouth so he could cup your jaw. He tried to tilt your head up, but it was too difficult with your eyes fixated on the heavy, large bulge that protruded from his pants.

"C'mon baby, remember what you said? Use your big girl memory and tell me," he cooed. Your hands rubbed up and down his thighs while your hips rutted against nothing, the pressure between them building exponentially due to neglect. He tilted your head again, meeting your big doe eyes and forcing your focus away from his strained hard-on.

"Innie," you choked out, fingers teasing the hem of his pants. "Hands... so big... so you must be..." He let you trail off and allowed your faze to return to his pants as they transfixed on the prominent outline of his cock and the stain on the fabric right at his tip.

"That stupid fucking theory about noses being indicators of size," he continued with a smile on his face, "is just that: a stupid fucking theory."

As if answering your prayers, he used his spare hand to slip the knot off. Then, with a small tug, he slowly lowered his pants enough, just enough to let his cock slip out. In turn, you were blessed with the picture-perfect image of his cock.

"Don't I prove that what you say about big hands is true, y/n?"

You just gave him a dumb nod, too needy to formulate proper words. However, he didn't need you to speak: he knew he was correct.

You always had a thing for his hands, but they were nothing compared to his cock. But together, when his large hands held his immaculately big, veiny, pulsing dick made your mouth water and dribble fall down your lips. His tip was red and leaking precum, begging to be touched or fucked or given some goddamn attention. He offered himself a few pumps, hissing as his heavy erection dripped fluids that you tried to catch desperately on your tongue. It wasn't enough. You needed more.

"Innie," you mewled, catching his attention.

"Y/n," he gasped as he stared down at your teary-eyed expression that was so cute and obviously needed to be rewarded.

"Please," you mumbled with embarrassment, "teach me." Your hand then went overtop of his and tightened around it, subsequently tightening the grip on his dick and making him moan a little louder than what he was comfortable with.

"Y/n, f-fuck," he whimpered as he pinched his eyes. With your eyes still transfixed on his hot tip, you pulled his hand off his cock and allowed both of your hands to hold him, heat radiating off of his length and precum coating your hands until they were glossy. You pumped it slowly, just as he did, mimicking the motion and unknowingly teasing him more than he would like.

"B-baby, please just suck it," he panted. You glanced up at him again and felt the drool pooling out of your mouth and collecting on your tongue. Then, with great hesitation, you pressed your tongue against him and licked up his slit, causing Jeongin to release a shaky grown that was soaked in pleasure.

"J-just like that—fuck!"

Your hands kept a steady pace while stuck your tongue out, giving him persistent and repeated licks. Each time you re-coated his cockhead in slobber and coaxed more profanities out of him. Still, you maintained a steady pace and dared not to increase your speed. You wanted to hear him beg and cry and whine like this forever.

"Fuck, y/n, take more of it in your mouth," he begged as his hands rested on your head and tangled in your hair. Yet, due to your dumb state and how good he sounded, you struggled to obey him

"Oh, right," he panted out, "you need to be shown how to do everything. My baby is just a little dumb student who needs to be taught. She needs to learn how to suck Innie’s cock like a good girl, right Y/n?" You simply hummed in response, continuing to pump and milk him. Jeognin’s hand found stability on the back of your head and balled your hair once again. The pull made you moan and the strain burned just as delectable as it did before.

"Now, open your mouth wide," he chuckled. You obeyed him like the dumb fucking slut you were and allowed your jaw to go slack, still rubbing your tongue on the underside of his tip and making him swallow back a moan.

"Good," he praised in a strained voice. "Now, take it." Suddenly, he pushed your head forward and forced your mouth to take his cock, gagging on his girth and soaking him in warmth. The intrusion made you hum loudly and for you to tighten your grip on his pulsing length Jeongin, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to your teary-eyed gags and continued to shove himself into you, inch by inch.

"G-good job," he whimpered in a low voice that he hoped he couldn't hear, "so warm." Though you could barely breathe and your mind was shocked by the act, you still felt yourself dripping onto the hardwood floor below you. Despite your confusion, your tongue and hands seemed to know what to do. As you gagged on him, the wet muscle rubbed up and down on any part of his cock it could reach while your hands pumped what your throat couldn't take.

"J-just like that," Jeongin hummed. He pulled your head back then and allowed you to take a deep breath in before pushing you down again. Shallow thrusts allowed him to push deeper into you and fluids to leak from your mouth onto the floor below you. Lewd, wet sound accompanied your gags, making Jeongin beyond elated.

"Y-You're the best student, y/n," he hoarsely whispered. "So smart and you've learned to let me fuck your mouth so easily. Such a fast learner, such a g-good, good girl for her Innie, yeah?" You could do little but hum along.

"Aw, does my baby want to breathe?" He asks through pants, to which you replied with an eager hum. He pulled you off his cock and you immediately gasped for air, hands leaving him to wipe the drool off your face and dry your tears.

"Better?" He asked, a mixture of sincerity and domineering sadism coating his voice.

"Y-yes, Innie," you responded feebly. He smiled at your answer.

"Good." He then changed his expression to a stern look and released your hair, letting you settle on your knees and take a few deep breaths.

"Next step," he began as he lifted his cock up and harshly grabbed your wrist to hold it up yourself. After placing the heavy cock in your hand, Jeongin then grabbed the other hand and forced you to cup his balls, unchanging in his expression or demeanour. He stared into you and you stared into him. He tutted and cooed at your expression which eagerly awaited instruction, begging to know what to do.

"Suck them. Now."

The order was processed in your head and left you spinning. Yet, you immediately obliged. After all, you didn't want to disappoint Jeongin. He thought you were a fast learner and he wanted to train his stupid slut as best he could. If you wanted him to be proud of you, then you had to prove him right. As such, your tongue left quick kitten licks his balls and the underside of his cock. Jeongin, through whines and moans, began to pet your head and encouraged you, s if he was begging instead of trying to dominate you.

"N-now," he stuttered out, "Pump me, fuck my cock with your hand, y/n." Your hand picked up a fast pace that glided over his slick cock and only deepened the desperation in Jeongin's voice.

"Shit.” He gaped at how well you did it, how well you obeyed him. You even began to take control, going back to suck his tip while your hands fondled the parts your mouth couldn't satisfy.

"M-missed the taste of my cock yeah? Missed how my pre-cum tasted on your tongue?" He rambled as you pumped him eagerly and sucked harshly. Sweat dripped down his forehead and a blush spread down his chest from you. He couldn't help but speak when he got like this: he praised everything you did and began to tell you everything he wished to say.

"Oh, y/n, I w-wished you knew why I teased you," he confessed through pants, "I wished you realized how much I like to annoy you, to get your attention, to tease you—mmh, fuck! All my friends know why I do it... every day they ask why I don't just go up to you and tell you why. But I could never seem to." Your mouth parted from his tip, your hand quickly replacing it, so you could properly look at the man who towered over you.

"Why... why didn't you do it, Innie?" you asked, voice still hoarse from when he made you take his cock.

"Because," he gasped out as he tried to steady himself. "Because... I like to tease you, to make you notice me. I just w-want you to notice me, you sweet thing, and take care of me like you are now. And you know what? I think that—f-fuck—I think you like it when I tease you, too." He was not wrong, and the ruined floor with the clothes and books on it was evidence. But, you also knew that he was right because here you were, sucking his cock and balls and choking on it with the greatest pleasure. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you. You wanted him to do things to you that you were too embarrassed to think about even in solitude.

You impatiently returned to his length, each lap of your tongue and stroke of your hand making his moans louder.

"Y/n," he groaned. "Y/n, y/n, y/n—" His voice got quicker as your motions increased in speed and determination. "Fuck d-don't stop, such a good girl! Perfect fucking mouth for me, perfect, so smart, such a tease—god!"

Suddenly, his hand pushed your head and his cock was shoved down your throat, mouth hugging him as his hips made shallow thrusts into you and gags erupted from your stuffed throat.

"Y/n, y/n, baby, y/n, swallow, swallow, please—" his chants were high pitched as he continued to rutt into your mouth, "—so tight so warm, I— I—I can't—hmph!" Jeongin pressed himself into you as far as he could while his hips twitched, causing you to choke but not dare pull away, not now, not when you were doing such a good job. Your mouth—reddened and swore from Jeogin's abuse—now leaked his cum that couldn't be swallowed.

"That—that, I—" Jeongin stammered unintelligibly. Ever the gentleman, Jeongin pulled you off his cock and watched the remaining liquid gush from your mouth. The cum trickled onto your tits and worn tie, making you squirm and for Jeongin to take a shaky breath.

"So, so precious," he muttered through exhausted pants. You stared up at him, coughing from the misuse of your throat and the need for air. Still, you felt strange: needy, unsatisfied, like you needed the same release Jeongin did.

"Innie, I need—"

"Please, rest, baby," he cooed, stroking your hair absent-mindedly as his still-hard cock pathetically dribbled out cum. You licked your lips at the sight: the taste of his juices still lingered on your mouth.

"No, no, I..." You pawed at his hands and gripped his wrists lightly. The act took him out of his trance and look down at you. You were sleeked in sweat and cum, your thighs were pressed together tightly and coated in slick. You bounced with impatience, wanting more and more and not knowing how to ask for it. However, Jeongin may be stupid and a jerk, but even he slowly pieced together what you wanted.

"Y/n, you—"

"Innie," you urged as you started to pull him down towards you. As you pulled him lower, you laid on your back, bringing him down with you. "Innie, please."

"Y/n, you should rest—" Jeongin tried to argue while he sank to his knees and placed his palm on the floor to steady himself.

"No." When he tried to argue again, you placed your mouth on his and pulled him fully on top of you on the library floor. When your lips finally parted, Jeongin stared at you with hopeful eyes.

"Please," you sobbed. You grasped one of his hands and slowly guided it down between your bodies, rutting against it as soon as it was close enough to your cunt. "Innie, please make it go away."

Jeongin smiled. Who was he to say no to you?

His hand immediately found your clit and began rubbing tight circles on it, making you writhe and whimper.

"F-Fuck, it feels so good," you mewled. Your pussy was gushing from the contact and it only became wetter when Jeongin licked his cum off of your chest. Bite marks and bruised skin were left behind in their stead, eager lips nipping at untouched skin. Though you hated being marked up and worried that it would show, you couldn't protest. Not when it felt this good, not when he was doing it.

Jeongin relished touching you, as well. He rubbed his cock onto your thigh while whimpering into each kiss. It was as if kissing you brought him to life, as if all of those years of teasing and picking on you had been worth it because he could fucking finally express his passion for you in a way that satisfied you both. Ever since he first saw you in the tight, ill-fitting uniform, he knew he wanted to be yours. Soon that feeling developed into the perverted dire need to bend you over the nearest surface and fuck you from behind. Now, as he was kissing down your chest, and fingered your perfect, tight hole, he knew he was so close to what he wanted.

"Fuck, I," he gasped out between kisses, "I can't." Unexpectedly, he sat up and fully slotted himself between your legs. Before you could protest, however, you found your knees pressed to your chest, your skirt bunched around your waist, and Jeongin was rubbing his cock through your folds.

"Jeongin!" You yelped.

"J-just the tip," he whined. "Innie is gonna put just the tip in and then he is gonna take such good care of you. He just needs the tip, just a little bit, just needs to feel his precious little baby, just needs the tip just—hmph! Fuck! Y/n, baby, t-take it."

Even if it was just his tip, you knew you were too tight for him. Just his cockhead alone was stretching you out. But, the pain, just like how he pulled your hair or spanked your ass or choked you, was amazing. Though you protested, it was all just for show: to rile him up or to maintain some semblance of propriety. Truly, you never wanted him to stop.

"I-Innie! It's too big! I can't— I can't it's too big— fuck!" You stammered as continued to push himself into you, filling you with more than he had promised. Your voice made him whine and push his face into the nape of your neck. Immediately, he began to nip and kiss your neck in a feeble attempt to control himself. Yet, as he plugged you, he knew that he couldn't resist. You just felt too good, too sweet, too soft, too warm, too wet, and too perfect to just put his tip in. With every shaky breath, he tried to control himself, but he just couldn't. After only a few seconds, he began to stuff you full.

"Innie! What are you—"

"It's j-just the tip, just a little more." His muffled stutters vibrated against your skin, "I just n-need you, just need my g-good little baby to fuck this cock and be good for Innie and take what I give her. Let me fuck your perfect cunt and fill your pussy with my cum. You'd like that, to be filled with my c-cum?" Jeongin was almost fully inside of you and viciously rubbed your clit with every centimetre. You had never felt so full in your life.

"C-cum, Innie's cum?" You repeated naively.

"Yeah, just my cum. Only mine, only Innie's. You're m-mine, just mine only I get to fill this with my cum. Yeah?" He rose and looked down at you, lips ghosting over yours. As he stared down at you, it was hard to pinpoint what he felt. Sure, there was the deliciousness of corrupting your naivety, being the first one to fuck your cunt, and how every inch that entered you made you moan louder and with more desperation. However, at that moment, as he glanced down into your eyes which were always so sweet, he was overcome by the dire need to protect you. He wanted nothing more than to love you and have you as his, more than he'd ever wanted before. His cock eased into you, your breasts were covered in his slobber, you had swallowed his cum, his dick was twitching from overstimulation, and all he could think of was how lovely you looked.

"Yes," you sniffled, "only for you, Jeongin, my Innie."

"Oh, y/n," he panted. His lips captured yours and kissed them softly, contrasting the quick friction against your clit and the stretch of your cunt accommodating his cock.

Then he pushed himself into you, impatience getting the best of him.

"Fuck!" You both whined at the same time: Jeongin from the feeling of your tight cunt hugging him so well, and you from how you were filled to the brim with him. His hands moved to your inner thighs, spreading them to allow himself to rest between them and hug his waist. He eagerly gripped the soft flesh to try and control himself. Softly, his thumbs rubbed your skin and he let out strained moans. Your eyes were pinched shut and, with your legs free, you wrapped them around his torso and pulled him into you. As you did, he pushed a little deeper, only a little, but you rejoiced in the sensation. You feared that if pulled out of you, you would crumble. It was all too much too soon, too fast and too good to let it end too quickly. Clawing at his back with tears streaming down your cheeks, each breath brought you closer to him.

"It's too much... Innie I-I can't I—"

"Please, please, y/n." The desperation in his voice made your eyes open and stare at him. His face had reburied in your chest and it took everything in him to look up at you. As soon as you saw the look on his face, you knew that it was too much for him too.

"Let me make you f-feel good," he panted as he pressed his forehead into yours, "j-just a little, just take it, p-please." He didn't wait for your response as he pulled out a little, clamping his eyes shut from the feeling of dragging his cock out of you and hissing to refrain from immediately pounding back into you.

"Shit, it f-feels so good," you sniffled as he eased back in.

"Yeah? I told you. S-such a d-dumb baby, so dumb for my cock." His voice made you whine and your hands go up to knot themselves in his hair, pulling it slowly as his hips found a peaceful rhythm that contradicted the merciless lust it made you feel.

"So dumb," you mindlessly repeated, "such a s-stupid fucking baby for Innie." Your words hitched as he made a particularly harsh thrust into you.

"Innie,” you asked in a small voice, “d-do you like it when I say that?"

Jeongin panted, trying to control himself, "Y/n, I—"

"You like to know I'm dumb, yeah? My stupid little pussy n-not know how to handle your big, veiny fucking c-cock?"

"Fuck, please, don't edge me," he strained through gritted teeth and with fingers dinging harshly into your thighs.

"T-teach me, teach me to how to fuck your cock."

He didn't intend to pick up the pace as quickly as he did. Nor did he mean to make his thrusts so harsh with such a lack of control that you moaned with each push and pull of his heavy dick. But, when it came to you, he couldn't control himself.

"I'm—gonna—fill—you—with—my—cum," he growled as he pistoned into you. His hands moved to your outer thighs, occasionally spanking them and enjoying each jiggle of fat with every thrust into you.

"Fuck, slow—please s-slow down," you sobbed as your tits dragged across his chest, your overly sensitive nipples. Jeongin, however, just chuckled, his laughs dying out quickly as they were replaced by quick breaths. His eyes became dark again and his grip on you tightened, sweat mixing with your own as precum made a white ring around his cock.

"Just know that it's gonna spill out of you, that I'm g-gonna fill you up every day and keep you stuffed with it," he whimpered as his hips rolled faster, making his eyes pinch shut. "So warm inside of you, leaking out and just waiting for me to stuff it all back in and cum again and again and again and again."

"Innie, it's too much, " you responded dumbly. Jeongin didn't care. He just loved to hear his petname come out in little whimpers. His eyes opened again slowly, taking you in. Fuck, you looked so cute and fucked out, so close yet still begging for more.

"What's my name? Say it," he demanded with a stern glare.

"I-Innie..."

"Say it again—fuck, say it again, baby," he gasped.

"Innie!" You responded on command, like a dog being asked to bark.

"F-fuck, please, y/n, one more time just once more please!" He panted as his cock dragged and drove into you at an unforgiven pace.

"Innie, Innie fuck me, please baby, Innie, fuck!" You whimpered

"Fuck, it makes you blush. Getting all embarrassed and flustered... I make you blush, huh? My pretty baby, my innocent y/n, so cute—shit!" Jeongin's voice suddenly caught in his throat as he felt you tighten around him. While his veiny cock pulsed with each thrust, your warm cunt throbbed as you felt that strange feeling build and build inside of you. One of his hands moved back to your neglected clit and started to circle it quickly, making you pant like the needy bitch you were.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck—ah! Y/n, baby, s-stop clenching or I'll—I'll—"

"Innie," you sniffled softly, your voice soaked in desperation. "P-please, make me cum. P-please, for me? Please!" You couldn't believe the words that left your mouth. Neither did Jeongin.

"Y/n, I'm—fuck—I'm gonna—" his thrusts became sloppy and your jaw went slack as you felt lust building to an inordinate degree.

"I'm gonna— Innie— fuck!"

"Y/n, my baby, my sweet b-baby I— cum, cum!"

"Innie!"

Your cunt began to pulsate and your back arched. The feeling was unimaginable, like nothing you could ever describe. It came over you quickly and suddenly, in a tremendous wave that you wish would last forever. Jeongin, in a brief moment of clarity, pulled out of you and rubbed his soaking cock quickly, letting out occasional and short grunts as he fucked his hand. Then, his hips stilled and cum began to spill out of his tip, coating your stomach and cunt in his cum. Yet, you hardly noticed: you were too-fucked out to care.

Riding your orgasm, you sank to the floor and Jeongin collapsed on top of you. Both of you took deep breaths and he dropped his head against yours, eyes shut in ecstasy. His hands lazily dragged up your body before resting on your face. He pet the sides of your jaw and drew your eyes open to meet his. Seeing your eyes was like seeing a home dock in a storm. He pressed his lips into yours and stole your breath away again.

The kiss—unlike the moments leading up to it—was slow, soft. It took its time and ended only when you two were satisfied. After being brought down to reality, Jeongin pulled away and brushed some hair out of your face.

"Y/n," he softly said.

"Jeongin, Innie," you said back, twirling with his sweaty locks and massaging the nape of his neck.

"We..." he panted out before taking a look around, "We gotta clean this place up and get the fuck out of here."

You stared at him in awe before cracking a smile.

---

You felt weird walking in with Jeongin and his gang on Tuesday. Gang? Maybe like "gaggle of friends that constantly annoy you but you are now stuck with and quickly learning to love." Needless to say, it felt like all eyes were on you. Actually, it was true. Teachers, students, faculty, everyone: no one could believe that the top student was now walking hand-in-hand with someone who held the reputation for being the school's worst student.

Despite being an outspoken and confirmed hater of Yang Jeongin, here you were: walking in next to him, with his arm slung around you, and blushing at his cute jokes. God, when did Jeongin become cute?! What a horrid thing to think, let alone believe. Yet, you knew it. He was cute. And now, the whole school knew that you thought so. Or, at least, that's what your giggles insinuated.

Maybe you always thought he was cute and now you allowed yourself to believe it, like those intrusive thoughts were actually right all along, and, yes, you did actually think he was incredibly sweet and handsome, and likely the best boyfriend. It's only been four days but he already has promised to walk you to and from school every day and has dates pre-planned with you up until graduation. He hasn't told you about the latter part yet, but he will soon enough. He just needs to wait until you're a little more comfortable with him before he confesses how much he absolutely adores you.

Being an "it" couple was not on your goal list for high school. Come to think of it, being stared at when you walk with your boyfriend and losing your virginity to him a mere four days before in the school library was not on the list either. Oh, how plans change. Somehow, however, you didn't mind the stares. Though most were shocked at how Jeongin had bagged the school's nerdiest (and hottest) girl, how that girl—who hated the man—now gleamed at him with adoration, and how they ever managed to get together in the first place, the most shocking element was the fact that your uniform was not up to code. Every day for the past few years, you were a picture-perfect student with pressed dress shirts, even ties, and cleanly pleated skirts. Now, your tie was loose and you were even wearing a hoodie—fuck, his, hoodie?! Jesus.

As you walked to class, you couldn't care less. Jeongin escorted you to first period, giving you a sweet kiss on the cheek and almost smiling at how cute you looked all wrapped in his hoodie. Your fellow students—hell, even the teacher—seemed bewildered by the interaction.

You, however, barely acknowledged them. You just noticed the man in front of you in a light that was so starkly different from the past four years.

"Got everything, yeah?" He said with a straight face.

"Yes, Innie," you smiled, making him glance away.

"I told you—" he started in a voice that was a little too loud, making him dart around to see if anyone was looking his way. And, of course, everyone was looking at you two because how could they not? The eyes on him made him uneasy, but when he turned back to you, all those uncomfortable feelings disappeared into nothing. He licked his lips anxiously and leaned in, adopting a hushed voice to try and retain a morsel of privacy. "I told you not to call me that in public, baby," he blubbered, "it ruins my image. Please, baby."

God, was he blushing? Fuck, he was perfect.

"Okay, Innie," you teased, making him ever redder. You stressed his nickname and relished in his embarrassed demeanour.

Huh. Maybe Jeongin had been right all along: teasing was fun, especially if it was done on the person you liked the most.

"Promise me you'll go to class, okay? I'll see you in last period, then we'll keep working on the project," you said.

"Ugghhghhhhh.." he groaned with a long-winded exasperation. "UGH... Okay."

"Great!" You smiled mischievously, "And we'll actually have to work on it. Unlike all those other times we... 'worked on the project' together this weekend."

"Y/n." His blush grew from his ears down his neck, still unable to make eye contact with you. You'd think that years of teasing you made him impervious to sly remarks, but when they're coming from you, well that's a different story.

"Why are you acting like this?! It was your fault in the first place!" You huffed with an air of playfulness. "I just wanna remind you that we won't be alone in the library this time!"

"Just... g-get to class, okay?" He stuttered, "I'll see you later, baby." Extending his hand out in a half-heart shape, you completed it with a giggle, adoring how small your hands were compared to your boyfriend’s. Then, Jeongin softly wrapped his hand around yours and pulled you in, offering you a kiss to your forehead. When he pulled away, he readjusted your glasses as they had slipped down your nose bridge.

"Perfect," he said with a small voice. With a final giggle from you, he watched you go into class.

Now there was the issue of what to do with his day. Normally, he'd spend first period smoking outside with his friends, wait until second period for the cafeteria to start serving pizza, go to third just to eat, then go to fourth period just to see you.

Now.. fuck. He was actually going to class. He hated how you were already having an effect on his lifestyle, but rejoiced that you operated in a position that dictated his life. If he was to be controlled, he would want you to be the one pulling the strings. Jeongin seemed to see you for who you really were: determined, intelligent, and perfect to coddle. Looking at you even had an effect on him, one that he could now proudly display instead of hiding behind bullying and teasing (not to say he’ll stop teasing you anytime soon).

As he slung himself into his assigned seat for first period, his surprise was mirrored on the teacher's face. God. Despite having only a few days passed since you two got together, you were already changing him to a noticeable degree. Yet, it was for the better. And he smiled knowing that if he was changing, that it was for good and that it was for you.

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