#i got into making greeting cards recently!!!
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perseephoneee · 2 days ago
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sugar & spice [ficmas day 13] [bucky barnes x afab!reader]
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↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024
author's note: this is super late bc i drove home for the holidays today!! also i was watching SNL and got distracted
playlist:
christmas in hollis -- run dmc
thats christmas to me -- pentatonix
if we make it through december -- phoebe bridgers
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Living next to the Winter Soldier was usually peaceful but sometimes awful. 
He had moved recently to St. Bernard Parish only a few months ago. You remember seeing all the drama with John Walker on the news, and Sam Wilson, aka “The Falcon,” stepping into the role of Captain America. You knew Sam was from the area, but you never expected his best friend to move in so close by. Let alone next to you. 
Most times, you don’t see him at all. Bucky tends to hide or only go out on errands. You’ll exchange a nod, maybe an awkward smile. You think to yourself that he’s incredibly handsome, even amidst the awkwardness. Maybe you would invite him out if you had more confidence. 
The first time you had a real conversation with him was in the apartment complex’s laundry room. Your cat had knocked over a glass of red wine all over your comforter, and you were sitting down there with spot remover cursing to yourself, trying to remove it. Additionally, the washer and dryer were ancient and didn’t want to accommodate something of your comforter size. You had attempted to smush it down to as small as possible, but the stupid machine wouldn’t turn on, and you were afraid of it exploding if you tried to put more detergent in. 
Bucky had come into the space at that moment. 
You never really knew what to do around him. He was this badass, sexy super soldier, and you were a nursing student who liked $6 wine. You guys did not operate in the same circuit. 
“Everything alright?” he asked. His voice was slightly raspy in a way you liked. 
“Washer,” you pointed to the offending object. He nodded like he understood. He probably did. He lived in the building. Bucky walked over and looked at the machine, shaking it a little like it would dislodge its problems. He tried pushing a bunch of buttons, but all it did was make the machine gurgle. You were too late to tell him to stop pressing things when your fear of bubbles exploding out of the machine was made a reality. 
Soapy water leaked out of the machine, covering you both in bubbles. By the time you found a way to shut off the machine, you were both wet and squeaky. Bucky looked mortified.
“I-I don’t know much about technology,” he apologized, red tinging his cheeks. You couldn’t help but burst out in laughter, which just made him confused. 
“This is ridiculous,” you laughed. Bucky chuckled until both of you stood there, trying to hold in laughter while covered in bubbles. The building manager came in a moment later and yelled at you both. 
Now, you had a tentative friendship with the Winter Soldier. Sometimes, you guys would go on morning runs or grab a coffee. One time, Bucky had you over to watch a sports game. You didn’t care much for sports but recognized it was him trying to be friendly, so you said yes. You guys made nachos for the big event. 
With Christmas around the corner, you were still trying to think of what you could get Bucky. He didn’t share much information about himself. Plus, you had a budget to work with. You were debating knitting him something but worried he would hate it. A knock on the door disturbed your thoughts. 
Bucky greeted you with a card in hand. 
“Hey, Barnes,” you smiled, leaning against the door frame. 
“Sam invited us to Delacroix for a Christmas gathering,” Bucky shrugged, handing you the invitation. You smiled at the family photo. 
“Sounds fun.”
“I’m not good with people.”
“Sure you are, I’ve heard stories of the infamous Uncle Bucky,” you chuckled. Sam had once shown you photos of his nephews hanging off Bucky’s arm. 
“That was a one-time experience,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. He had a hint of a smile on his lips, though. He shifted on his feet. “Are you busy today?”
“Not really.”
“I need to go holiday shopping…. I want to get something for the Wilsons,” Bucky sighed. He sounded stressed, and you got the sense that it had been a while since he’d had to think of gifts. You thought it was cute. 
“I’ll go shopping with you, Buck,” you grinned. “Let me grab a jacket.”
Bucky had seen in the paper an ad for a Christmas market in New Orleans, which is where you guys decided to head. You had a car and were able to drive you both into the city after relentlessly teasing him for still using the paper to find events. 
You didn’t live in the French Quarter for a myriad of reasons, and it being too expensive is one of them. But it was very pretty during this time of year. The market was covered in fake snow and twinkling lights, the smell of evergreen permeating the air. You ordered some mulled wine for the both of you, burning your tongue in your eagerness to sip the drink. You helped Bucky buy some things for Sam and his nephews. At some point, you snapped a picture of him comparing two different stuffed animals; his look of determination was absolutely adorable. You grabbed some things for your family, and while thinking of your Mom, you ended up at one of the jewelry booths. 
“Beautiful, isn’t it? Fresh pearl, right off in Olympia, Washington,” the seller crooned, pointing to a delicate necklace you were looking at. There was a delicate gemstone in the center. It seemed to be twinkling at you. 
It was a pretty penny, but you wanted to do something for your Mom, who singlehandedly helped you through nursing school. You fished out the money from your wallet and opted to get it wrapped, too. 
“That’s pretty,” Bucky said from behind you. He had a bag from the hot sauce stand and was just now seeing what you were getting. 
“It’s for my Mom, as a thank you,” you shrugged. You said thank you as you took the necklace from the seller. You paused, sniffing the air. “Do you smell schnitzel?”
You dragged Bucky to the German food booth and excitedly ordered both pork schnitzel plates with a side of potatoes. You didn’t realize how starving you were. Bucky looked concerned as you inhaled everything. 
“You eat like the men I served with.”
“I eat with an aura of awesomeness?” you retorted, shoveling more potatoes. He laughed. 
“Sure.”
“I feel you don’t have faith in my superior abilities, Barnes.”
“I rarely do.”
You were about to respond, something well thought out and clever like always, when someone jostled you walking by. You turned to call out to them to watch where they were going when you saw a familiar bag in their hands. You stood up immediately, Bucky following your line of sight. 
“They took my bag! That has my Mom’s gift in it!” you cried out. People looked at you in bewilderment, your assailant sprinting in the crowd and knocking people out of the way. 
“Y/N, wait!” Bucky yelled as you took off after him. You weren’t an athlete, but you could pick up speed when necessary. You felt like you were in a game of Temple Run as you dodged people and objects while moving after him. Bucky caught up to you easily, not even breaking a sweat. He surpassed you quickly, grabbing the guy from the back of his jacket and throwing him down. You gasped at how quickly he moved. Bucky held him down while he checked for your bag. He looked up to you in alarm. “He doesn’t have it.”
“I saw him take it,” you gasped. 
“He must’ve passed it off to someone in the crowd,” Bucky cursed. The guy was crying underneath him, and he let him go. He basically kicked him to the side. You scanned the crowd, noticing a similar get-up from a guy to your left. You nudged Bucky’s arms, pointing him out. He nodded at you before stalking his way towards him. Even in his movements, he seemed completely still. You weren’t surprised to know that he was one of the scariest assassins. 
You both followed the guy onto a quieter street from the market. Unfortunately, that’s when the rest of his accomplices came out to greet you. While you were confident that Bucky could get out of this situation, you were unsure about your own abilities. 
You didn’t even have a chance to fight back when someone grabbed you from behind, pressing a sweet-smelling cloth to your nose, lulling you into unconsciousness. 
You were awoken by a bright spotlight. 
Akin to a bad interrogation scene, you sat up and groaned. You were tied to a chair. Bucky was next to you, looking bored. Or at least feigning boredom. The gang of guys were standing around you, looking smug. 
“Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in,” one of them said, sounding smug. 
“Aren’t you the cat?” you groaned. One of the other guys slapped you, Bucky growling at the motion. 
“Keep your mouth shut, this isn’t about you.”
“Then why kidnap me?”
“Y/N, shut up,” Bucky hissed. 
“I become annoying when I’m nervous,” you shrugged, the sting from your cheek starting to fade. The guy had a fairly weak slap. You spied your bag out of the corner of your eye, in the back near the door. You kissed your teeth. 
“What do you want?” Bucky asked. You wondered why he hadn’t broken out yet. 
“We want your privileged ass off our turf,” one of the guys called out. “Avengers aren’t welcome here. Not after the Blip.”
You thought that was a dumb reason but neglected to comment. 
“We were just about to leave; we were just doing holiday shopping,” Bucky said, tone even. 
“Oh, yes, sugar and spice. I’d love to have some of that sugar if you get my drift,” the main guy said, leering at you. You considered spitting on him, but Bucky’s hard expression was enough to cause a few of them to back off. He glanced at you, nodding at the door. You thought he was talking about your bags, and you nodded back. 
“You guys are barely passable villains, and I have better things to do,” Bucky sighed, snapping out of his restraints immediately and standing up. The other guys jumped into action, and that's how you got to see the Winter Soldier in true form. Even still, you knew he was holding back. He didn’t need full strength for these goons. 
You shuffled in your chair, trying to tip forward slightly. You had seen this once in a movie and thought of trying it now (everything is accurate in movies). You pushed back, landing with a hard crack on the back of the chair. The back part cracked, allowing you to wiggle out of your ties with ease. You got up off the ground, making a sprint towards the exit. Bucky caught up with you a second later. The guns started firing a moment after that. 
“Go!” Bucky yelled, basically dragging you behind him as you guys sprinted out of wherever you were. You followed behind him uselessly until he felt you were far enough away to catch your breath. You sat on the curb of the sidewalk, panting. Bucky put your bags on the ground next to you. 
“You remembered,” you sighed happily. Bucky sat down next to you. 
“Least I could do.”
“I’m sorry I got you caught up in that for a stupid present.”
“Those guys were idiots; it made my week to beat them up,” Bucky smiled. You knew he was trying to make you feel better, but you couldn’t help but think there was a shred of truth. 
“I still feel bad.”
“Don’t,” Bucky leaned against his knee. “Nothing with you is bad.”
You felt your cheeks heat, and you hoped Bucky didn’t notice. Adrenaline still coursed through you, your brain going a hundred directions a minute. You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, making him go still. 
“Thanks for saving my life.”
Bucky smiled. 
“I think you saved your own.”
You both went home after that, Bucky hesitantly leaving you by yourself. Like he was afraid, something would happen. You didn’t realize until you were behind closed doors how scared you had actually been. You broke down sobbing a second later. You were glad Bucky wasn’t there to see it. 
Sam's party was at the end of the week. You were putting on some simple pearl studs when Bucky knocked on your door. You ran out to greet him, swinging open the door. 
You had never seen Bucky dressed up. He was always dressed in his “civilian attire” and in varying shades of dark. Today, he wore a dark blue button-up with his leather jacket over it. He had put on some nicer boots instead of his worn ones. He looked devilishly handsome and very much like someone who would break your heart. You were pleasantly surprised to find him appreciating your appearance as well. 
“You…,” he trailed off. You had put on a nicer maroon dress for the party but no heels. It wasn’t that fancy. It seemed to be enough for him. 
“I know–”
“You look beautiful,” Bucky coughed out. He was never good at talking or expressing anything, really. You didn’t know how much willpower it took for him to admit this. You beamed. 
“So do you,” you replied, shuffling your feet. Bucky offered you his arm, and you wondered how many girls he would do this to back in the 40s. You took it with glee anyway. 
Neither of you lived far from Delacroix, and didn’t have to wait that long to get to the Wilson’s. You could hear the music from down the block. Bucky parked, running to your door to quickly let you out. He was being a gentleman and it was giving you heartache. 
Sarah Wilson was dressed in a beautiful crushed velvet gown and greeted you with a hug when she saw you. You had met the Wilson sister twice, and both times she greeted you warmly. She quirked a brow when she saw Bucky, and he gave her an awkward salute and shuffled away. 
“You look wonderful,” you said to Sarah. 
“So do you, and he seems to notice,” Sarah nudged you, nodding towards Bucky. He had found Sam and the kids, who were already swarming him. 
“We’re just friends,” you bit your lip. Sarah chuckled. 
“And I’m a virgin. We all have our crosses to bear.”
You didn’t have a good retort to Sarah’s comments and decided to just follow her to the bar instead. You were going to need wine to get through this party if she was going to make suggestive comments. 
Two glasses of wine later, you were starting to feel calmer. The kids practiced patience when opening their presents, and the adults enjoyed the buffet-style food. One of Sam’s family members put on a Marvin Gaye record, and with the liquor free-flowing, dancing was bound to occur. Bucky was hiding on the edge of the dance floor, nibbling on a cookie. You joined him. 
“Did you dance in the 40s?” you asked. Bucky finished his cookie. 
“Yeah, it’s how I got all the girls,” he smiled. The wine flowed through your head, and you offered him your hand. He looked down at your hand and then back at you. 
“C’mon, get the girl Barnes. Take me dancing,” you grinned, even as your heart was thundering. Bucky took your hand, following you onto the ‘dance floor’ (carpet). He gave you a quick spin until you fell into his chest. 
“Falling for me already?” Bucky smirked. You understood why he was a stud back in the day. 
“Shut it,” you smiled. The music was upbeat enough that you weren’t left in the uncomfortable holding pattern of a slow dance. Bucky knew what he was doing, though, even if you didn’t. You let him spin you and pull you close, your breath catching every time. By the end of the third song, you’re out of breath and need another drink. Bucky follows you to the bar, a few steps behind. “You’re a good dancer,” you commented. 
“You’re a good partner,” Bucky offers you a wine glass, topping it off. You smile in thanks, taking a sip. You want to dissolve under his gaze. 
“You’re unbelievable,” you murmured. 
“Why?”
“You know why,” you quirked a brow. Bucky just chuckled, looking down. He was cute when he was bashful, and you hated him for it. When he looked up at you, you were caught by how blue his eyes were. 
Coughing interrupted you. 
Both you and Bucky turned to see Sam. His arms were crossed. 
“I need you two to hook up already,” Sam exclaimed. Bucky rolled his eyes, but you just glared at Sam. Your glare was enough to send him away. You turned back to Bucky with burning cheeks. Bucky rolled his shoulder with the metal arm like he was preparing for something. 
“Buck–”
He cut you off with a kiss. It stole your breath, and if it weren’t for his hand on your waist, you would’ve collapsed to the ground. When he pulled away, you looked at him with shock and adoration.
“I was tired of waiting,” he murmured. “And Sam was right.”
“Does it pain you to admit Sam was right?”
“Every time,” Bucky grinned. 
You kissed Bucky again and again until Sarah’s sons were making fake kissing noises in the living room, Sam was cheering, and you and Bucky were wondering how you ended up spending Christmas at the Wilsons. 
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pricegouge · 1 day ago
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alright.
cw: price x trans!reader. no gendered terms used so you can be trans in any direction you want. attempted deadnaming.
he knows something's amiss the second he opens the door to the pungent, chemical scent of too much cleaning product.
it's not that you don't keep a tidy house. some clutter, maybe, but only enough to feel homey, and he's never once found fault in the level of dust or dirt build up, even with his heightened standards after so many years in the service. but this level of cleanliness, the pristine shine of counters, and the cheery scent of orange peel and anise in the simmer pot on the stove. it could only mean one thing.
you're nowhere on the ground floor, though his search reveals more bleached grout, shampooed carpets. john calls up the stairs for you sweetly, a warning of his approach just a much as a barometer by which to gauge your response. he's never shied away from conflict, but he's only made it this far in life by being smart, never going in half-cocked, or with bad intel. he curses silently when you don't play along, either not having heard him or just outright ignoring him.
it's not looking good for him, that's for sure.
"sweetheart?" he tries again, beginning the ascent to your shared room. abject fear doesn't set in until he hears you banging around, taking out whatever pent up aggression you still haven't worked out on his things, by the sound of it. he scrubs a palm over his whiskers, checks the calendar on his phone to ensure he hasn't missed an important date by mistake. he doesn't truly start to panic until he hears you mutter an honest to god 'lousy good for nothin'.'
whatever he's done, there's nothing for it but to take your anger on the chin and start groveling.
you don't even give him time to greet you when he opens the door, spinning around to level him with that same look you use on the boys when they're being insufferable. it transforms you into some wild thing, fiery and tempestuous with sweat caking your hair to your temples and your breath puffing your chest up. he's half a mind to tell you how gorgeous you are, but he's a little afraid you'll make him swallow that swiffer duster if he does.
"dove -?" he tries and you huff before he can even finish, turning away to continue your tirade, mumbling incoherently all the while and he must have a death wish cause he follows after you, hands gentling on your shoulders even as you try to shrug him off. "love, look at me, please. what's wrong? hm? have i done something?"
cagey and stiff, you fight him even as he envelops you, hissin' and spittin' the whole way.
"it's nothing, john. can you -?"
his eyebrows nearly escape the confines of his forehead. "nothin'? that why you damn near polished a hole through the dining table?"
a sputtering sound, somewhere between a cough and laugh. it's all he needs to breathe a bit easier. if it had been something he'd done, you'd have mouthed off about putting a hole in him next time. he guides you to the bed, shoves the wadded up pile of dirty linens you'd clearly intended on laundering up the mattress to clear a spot for you. the smell of febreze wafts around you as you sink into it, not an inch of the house having eluded your wrath. "alright. it's alright now. c'mere, look at me," he coos, waits for you to abide before giving you an overly sweet smile. "now, what's happened?"
you sag, cut strings, the tension in your spine leaving you entirely the second he guides you through one long breath. unexpectedly easy, as if you wanted to be settled and soothed. "got a holiday card from my dad," you grumble, voice muffled somewhere in the pocket of his neck and shoulder.
he hums, the nature of your frustration starting to take shape. your father - absent the entire time he's known you, at least, though from what he gathers that hadn't been a recent development even back then. you exchange texts sometimes, often laugh when he forgets your birthday. chew john's ear off when the man has the nerve to say you're absent from his life when you fail to wish him a happy easter. he waits for you to elucidate. offers some semblance of a truce when he waits too long. "that was nice of him?"
a scoff, some wriggling. you produce a folded up drug store card with a chicken in a santa hat printed on the front. "misspoke," you croak, shoving the card into his hands. "he wrote someone a holiday card."
john sighs, presses a kiss to your scalp as he drops the card right back onto his lap. he doesn't need to open it to know what he'll find, though he's honestly surprised you'd even bothered to tell your father, not when you speak with him infrequently enough that him knowing your preferred name even seemed to matter. but it was your call and if you'd done so, only to have your wishes ignored, he'd half a mind to find this man and unload some built up issues he'd been collecting and ignoring ever since you'd first asked him to leave it.
"oh sweetheart," he murmurs, follows it with your preferred name because he wants you to know how much he likes it. "i'm so sorry. but you know who you are, even if he doesn't accept you, and -."
he stalls out when you squirm away from him, pluck the card right back up from the floor where it had fallen to press it, open, into his face. you're angry again, stalking around the room before he even realizes you've stood.
"you're sweet, but too optimistic, john." the accusation nearly levels him, not one that's ever been laid at his feet. it's a shock that only festers, bottom giving way when you continue, "that motherfucker wishes he'd deadnamed me."
well. doesn't that just pique the curiosity. he's not sure what he expects to find when he uncrumples the card. a medical bill, maybe - your father deciding that all these years of separation ought to be repaid literally. maybe the fool had gone and had another kid, sent you the ultrasound like you were all still one big happy family. he's decidedly not expecting to see the damn thing addressed to someone else entirely. so much so that he nearly asks who it's for before taking a second look, reading it over again.
wrong name. wrong deadname. a slight variant of your legal, christian name. and not even a matter of getting you confused with another family member because as far as he can remember, no one in your extended shares this name. and he can certainly remember more of your family than your damn father can. no, the man had simply forgotten what was on the birth certificate he'd signed. close, though.
"well, he's got the first syllable right," john hedges, folding the card carefully closed along the same seams you'd pressed into it. you don't find him funny, barely even acknowledge he's spoken as you continue to pace. he tries again, casting desperately for an excuse he knows the man doesn't deserve. "is he... unwell?"
"he's fucking fine, john. he's just an ass."
"he's getting up there," john counters, standing, creaky kneed, to trap you in his arms again. "you haven't seen him for years, right? maybe he's -."
"he's fine. called him to thank him for the card," you scoff, take a minute to resettle yourself before speaking again. "i was thinking maybe the same thing, you know? not unreasonable. but he's completely fine. even asked to speak with his girlfriend, just to be sure she hadn't noticed anything either. fit as a fucking fiddle. just forgot what he fucking named me."
without the distraction of cleaning, or pacing, or cursing, your frustration has nowhere to go except tears. he holds you, presses kisses to your crown. calls you by your name - your real one, the one you chose - just to make sure you know someone remembers it, he supposes. honestly, he's at a bit of a loss. not something he's overly used to, people's ability to surprise him having long since worn off. but this is a new one. or, at least not one he's equipped to handle. fathers forgot their kids all the time. forgot to go home after that trip to the store, forgot to call on their birthdays. his own old man had forgotten plenty in his time, too. but he's still fairly certain the man would have been able to recall what he'd named his son right up until the day he'd died.
by the time you've calmed down you're ready for a shower. he'd join you, but he hears the way your stomach growls, food evidently forgotten all day. so he pulls the curtain closed on you after one last kiss and picks his way to the kitchen where he starts first by sifting through the trash, finding the merry red envelope addressed to the wrong person at the bottom, buried under all the waste you'd excised during your cleaning spree. he takes a picture of the corner, tastefully crops out the name that had given you so much grief. sighing, he returns everything to the bin and washes his hands, careful to ensure he won't accidentally scald you.
the rest of the evening moves easier. there's nothing that can be said and you both know it, so you don't. he can let it settle as long as you want, doesn't mean to keep scratching at a fresh wound. so you eat dinner in relative silence, and you sit in relative silence when he lets you use him like a pillow on the couch after, your favorite comfort film playing softly. and that's fine. the next bit he can do alone, anyway. got your father's address tucked safely in his pocket already.
he just thinks someone should make sure the man's okay, is all.
and if i write a comfort fic where your daddy as hell boyfriend takes care of you after you open a card from your flesh and blood father to find it addressed to the wrong fucking name, are y'all gonna be super chill and never ask what inspired it?
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papricots · 10 months ago
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turquoizxe · 1 month ago
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𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐬
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Sevika x Piltover!Fem!Reader
content ― one-shot; hatefucking, "til' the room stank", light pain kink, degradation, some biting, the reader is also bratty highkey, smut, overstim, fingering, strap, pillow talk, mentions of possible feelings, Sevika is down bad for you, #needdat #realbad
author's note ― this was supposed to be a small < 500 word drabble, but ovulation had other plans. enjoy!
wc ― 2.445k
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You didn't have it in you to give up whatever this was. It felt too good. She wanted to hate your guts, ruin you, and deprive you of any happiness that she thought you didn't deserve. But I guess other plans were written on the cards.
Thoughts about how you were, how you felt ― it plagued every corner of her brain. And even you didn't understand how much she needed you.
Despite you being from Piltover, your parents were from Zaun. And due to your luck, your family had somehow found themselves outside of poverty. The unfortunate thing is that their corrupt principles still remained despite being surrounded by riches; It in fact made it worse.
Politics was always a rough issue at the dinner table, and you had your opinions about the council. You'd be lying if their narcissism didn't rub off on you quite a bit, and Sevika could tell from miles away that you'd be a problem.
Despite your background and upbringing in Piltover, you and your friends would sneak out to Zaun on more than one occasion. Your parents were unaware that you had as many connections to Zaun as they did, and possibly even more. You'd often run into Sevika more often than she'd like to. Your favorite interaction being within the brothel.
Silco had recently hired you and asked you to find Sevika, who hadn't known that you had become a partner in their line of work. She was often seen at The Last Drop when she was on downtime. You knew her features all too well, and it'd be nice to greet her with your lovely face.
You didn't think she would be able to fuck as good as she looked. While it had been made to your knowledge that she was also a regular at the Brothel, you had been browsing, the familiar voice had echoed. And you hated admitting to yourself how her baritone and shaken up the core inside you. You were gone before you could even make an attempt to find a partner that night. And you couldn't help but hear the filthy words that left her lips every time you had to interact with her.
"That pretty little cunt is mine, isn't it?"
God, you hoped those thoughts didn't chase through you with every moment she spoke with you. Once you started working together more, the tension got stronger, and neither of you could pinpoint when and where it started. But you knew what strengthened it. Your quick wit and smart mouth kept her entertained, and some days she wondered how the hell you didn't end up in this line of work sooner.
Your involvement with Zaun made her feel like the mission was being prolonged with your presence, and she made it known with every passing moment the aversion she had reserved for you. You'd believe it if she spent less time staring at your ass when you were tweaking with her mechanical arm.
The small audience that knew of your partnership was often left in question, as they couldn't describe the relationship you had with one another. And fondness wasn't a word they would state it as.
The seamless flirting felt so harmless at first, the prolonged stares. She could tell how she made you feel, and she always refrained from acknowledging it because she wants to fuck you more than she hates you.
And she couldn't tell if that hate was mutual when all you did was toy with her when under pressure. And finally, she gave in to what she knew you both wanted.
You two got caught up when you started bringing up your parents and your involvement with Zaun. You had spent so much time trying to convince her that this wasn't some sort of savior complex moment for you. You had known better than to engage with someone of her stature. You'd be as good as dead. Sevika was impressed with your combat skills, but that fell short once your teeth sunk into her skin. The lust that clouded her eyes was clear as day in yours.
You knew better than to use Silco's desk for anything other than work, but neither cared enough about him to consider that.
You had Sevika right where you wanted her.
Her mechanical arm had you pinned upon Silco's desk. Your breasts were on display, riddled with bites and hickeys; Your bottoms dangled over your ankles, and your undergarments were barely recognizable after Sevika tore them. And you whined under her so desperately.
"What happened to that shit you were talkin' earlier, huh?" She scoffed, her fingers working inside your walls, eager to pull more cries from you. It was embarrassing for her to admit how much pleasure she derived from you crying like a bitch in heat.
You had stopped counting how many times she had made you come at this point. It was constant teasing and banter until you took it upon yourself to rile her up.
"Fuckin' brat, I just knew you'd break.." Her wrist flicked up, her strong arm adjusting your bottom half. The pressure on your clit only intensified once she realized the change in her angle led to finding your spot.
She had slowed down her movements to get a better look at you, and going only slower every time you averted your gaze. She looked down, your fluids soaking her palm. She let out an audible moan when she slowed down to take a better look at the white ring that was forming around her fingers that prodded you. If Sevika knew anything, you hated when she got under your skin, but how much does that matter when she's already gotten in your pants?
Sevika leans forward, peppering kisses across your chest, soothing the love bites she left behind on your neck, leading up to your ear as your body arches to feel her, yearning to be closer. Her breath ghosted over your ear, softly biting the skin. She slowly lifts her body so she can see the torment in your eyes.
"Look at me when you come, doll."
You cried out, tears welling up in your eyes. It was hard for you to form words, incoherent mumbles, and uneven breaths. You were only able to form a string of "fuck" as she abused your puffy clit. Your mind was clouded by lust and yet despite the knot in your stomach once again creating and becoming painful; You took it upon yourself to move your hips to meet the thrusts of her digits.
Sevika clicked her tongue before removing her fingers from your cunt, your remnants coating her fingers and desk. She backs away and turns away from you, wandering off to a dark corner of the office. A loud groan of frustration falls from your lips. Despite your body being pushed to its limits, you felt you could come for her once more than the last. You couldn't remember the last time anyone has fucked you that good, or if anyone even has until she strolled along.
"Following the rules seems to be a tough concept for you."
"You're such an ass" you sneer, sitting up. Your partner seemed to have stopped entertaining you, your hands finding their way to your pussy, frantically searching for its release. Much to your dismay, Sevika was not far away enough to not hear the cries of your pussy.
"I didn't say you could touch yourself."
"Not like you're doing it", you heave. A strong hand had taken hold of yours, halting your movements. You had been too busy trying to chase another orgasm, you hadn't realized Sevika's strap-on was excited to greet you― a thin layer of lube covering it. As prepped as you were, neither of you doubted you took whatever she gave you.
Sevika's stature was much larger than the average woman's, and she could tell how much you enjoyed feeling small under her with every moment she took to hover over you. While her mechanical arm held you up, firmly grasping your ass, the sharp metal, left small scratches on your backside, while her other hand ghosted over your thigh, her orbs remaining on yours. Your bottom lip stuck between your teeth to stifle a moan. You didn't think you'd become much weaker under her than you did at that moment.
Sevika had you right where she wanted you.
You both leaned forward, your chests heaving against each other, and were enveloped in what would be your first kiss. You were messy, and she adored you. Her tongue quickly found its way into your mouth, your lips softly suckling on the flesh as your hips started to grind against her, craving for Sevika to use her toy. She quickly took that into account, but she still had a sliver of pettiness within her.
"Sev..." drawls from your lips. Your only support is your arms upon Silco's desk as Sevika has her bionic arm grasping under you, her other hand wrapped around your neck, forcing you to look at her as she slowly inserts herself inside. Despite your slick being noticeably scattered across Sevika's hands and Silco's desk, you couldn't remember the last time you had something so big inside you. She pushed further, her thumb caressing your cheek, still holding your neck to see you lose any form of restraint you have left.
Sevika had finally removed her hand from your neck, retreating back to your breasts, pinching your nipples between her fingers. Once her length bottomed out, a gasp forced out of you from the sudden probe. Sevika grunts, your weight causing the friction against her clit. Your head flung back, white was the only thing you could see. You could feel the head of her strap probe at your spot once again.
"So fucking sexy...you're mine aren't you?"
You weakly moaned out a yes, too fucked out to even think of a witty comeback. Seeing you this fucked out was a dream before her eyes. Ever since she saw you catch a glimpse of her animosity at the brothel, she had only wondered how much of a beating you could take when she took you to pound town. She placed both of her hands on your hips, a grasp so powerful, that you were more than sure they would leave marks more than she already has.
You felt her hips rut against you, the guttural moan that erupted from your throat felt almost embarrassing. It was unfortunate for you that this was the calm before the storm. Still, Sevika searched your eyes before escalating.
She placed her hand on your stomach, where you could feel her with every thrust, you felt the knot forming faster than you'd had hoped. Your legs had begun to shake, tears prickling at your cheeks once again after Sevika's thumb applies pressure to your clit for the umpteenth time. You felt her bionic arm exert a warm sensation beneath you, only heightening your sensitivity.
"I thought you said you could take it? Be a good little bitch like I told you to."
The grip she had on your hips only tightened, the fervor in her ruts only reaching desperate heights, chasing her own orgasm. Seeing you coming undone like this was heavenly, and she'll never let you live this down.
The sweat beads formed on your forehead, and your body felt like it was on fire. You were reaching the edge, your hips quickly finding Sevika's rhythm, eager to reach ecstasy with her. Your hand intertwined with hers, your gaze never leaving her orbs as you witnessed her coming undone.
She didn't need to be told much else, as you hadn't been able to form coherent sentences after your first nut.
"ah..Sev― I'm gonna"
"Fucking do it", she commands, landing another bite on your neck as you both reached your climax. Her hips hadn't shown any signs of stopping, but her intensity decreased as she guided you through your orgasm.
You were already thinking about the next time she would tear your shit up like this. I think the passions you shared would only be the beginning of a unique relationship.
"Thaaaat's it baby..", she coos, landing kisses on your temple before placing a final one on your lips again. You both moaned at the sight of the aftermath, slowly pulling herself out of you. Her strap coated in your juices, your chest rising, a small chuckle leaving your lips admiring the mess you made. Sevika cackles weakly. She was still working on catching her breath from your physical activity.
Sevika's bionic arm squeaks, some steam erupting from the device. It seems like her new adjustments cause some overheating when exerted too much.
"I can take care of that", you motion toward her arm, slowly walking over to your toolbox, careful not to embarrass yourself from the short distance to acquire your items. From your peripheral, you could see Sevika's smirk, taking amusement from watching you struggle to make it. You finally make it, picking up the heavy box. Sevika took it upon herself to carry you back over to the chair across from the desk.
You took some time to gather yourself while Sevika cleaned up the desk, cautious to make it look as if nothing had taken place moments prior.
Afterward, she plopped next to you, putting her arm on display as you removed her vials.
Despite her ruining you just minutes prior, an awkward silence fell between the two of you. While it started rough, the displays of affection made it feel as if there was something else to explore further.
"Soo..." you start. You could feel her gaze upon you, likely wondering the same thing.
"I'd like to think whatever this is may be worth exploring."
Even if it remained this way, you wouldn't mind, but the moments when you both could hold a conversation, there was something else lingering in the air.
Sevika didn't know how to feel― this was beyond lust, but she didn't want to put other labels on it unless she knew for sure.
"I wouldn't mind exploring this with you", she admits, her hand caressing your thigh, your muscles loosen after the assurance from her, continuing to fix her arm. A small smile forms on your lips, and Sevika follows, averting your gaze. You were eager to tease her again, but that wasn't until Silco walked through the door.
The both of you looked in his direction. While his room looked the same as he left it, he couldn't ignore the stench that invaded his nostrils, including the state of your clothing, the only thing covering you being her cloak. You both felt the glares on you, his teeth gritting through his words of frustration.
"Fucking degenerates.."
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― turquoizxe
706 notes · View notes
dumpywrites · 9 months ago
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Two Days - Jungkook
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Summary: He just wants you to give him two days. He'll take you on a few dates and you'll decided if you actually like him? Or not?
Genre/tags: mostly fluff, tiny bit of angst, friends to lovers, biker jungkook, jungkook is a goofball and a simp! :)
Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader
a/n: this is my first ever bts/jk fic, I'm just trying this out since i have some days off from work, hope y'all like it <3
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“Please?”
“No.” 
“You’re missing out.” 
“Jungkook, we’re literally in a Burger King.”
You heard the man playfully saying, “Yes, and?” in a singing tone. All you could do was rolling your eyes in reply. Jeon Jungkook, this guy who had been begging you for his so-called masterplan that he called, “trial date” for weeks, was now yet again begging you for a chance.
You could not exactly pinpoint when it actually began. He was shy the first time you met. You had known the rest of the boys ever since you met Yoongi at an art class. The cold looking guy who was surprisingly friendly and soft-hearted, later on introduced you to the rest of the guys. Jungkook was introduced almost a year later into befriending the group. He was a guy who went to the same gym as Namjoon. They became friends ever since he offered Namjoon a ride one time. 
Being the youngest amongst the guys and also the latest you got to meet, you would think that his shyness would linger at least a little bit longer. Then again, if you really think about it, he probably only stayed quiet and shy on the first meeting. 
The idea of both of you together was never mentioned until recently. Namjoon was the one who started calling out Jungkook’s odd behavior towards you, but the nail on the coffin was when you all got drunk at Jimin’s house that one time. 
It was Jimin’s birthday and truthfully, you knew the guy was loaded rich, but you did not know he was rich with capital R. The selection of bottles in his house was pretty much unlimited from the ones you like to the ones you couldn’t even name. It was five hours into all the celebration and you all were blurting nonsense. You were tipsy, but still aware cause for some reason you were winning all the games that night and got to drink less. But Jungkook on the other hand, who was usually winning everything, was getting pissy cause he kept coming second after you. 
“This is unbelievable.” Jungkook groaned, casually throwing the boardgame cards on the table. 
“You just have a soft spot for her.” Jin shrugged. 
“I do not! I just have a crush on her.” Jungkook retorted back, as if his sentence made any sense. 
You heard Hoseok voiced a small “oh” with his usual judgy expression, and the rest were silent for a second, including you. 
“I mean…” Jungkook tried to correct himself but stopped mid-way, trying to make up words in his already drunk mind. His eyes went back and forth to everyone before he scoffed. “You all act so surprised, as if you didn’t tease me everyday right after the first time I met Y/N.” 
When the room was still silent, Jungkook realized he fucked up, his blurry mind completely ignored the fact that you, the subject of this topic, was in fact also in the room. 
“Shit.” Was all he muttered before he excused himself to the bathroom, and did not come out for twenty minutes. 
When he was done, everyone had decided to wrap it up due to the awkwardness and the absence of Jungkook himself. He found Taehyung and Jin sleeping on both sides of Jimin’s big couch, and a small smile formed on his lips, shaking his head over the dumb expression they had in their sleep. His stomach soon flipped right after he saw you on the kitchen, making yourself a cup of instant noodle. 
“Oh, hey.” You greeted awkwardly. “I got hungry from all that drinking.” You shyly mentioned. 
Jungkook only nodded and took a seat on one of the dinning chairs. 
“You want some?” You offered, trying to break the ice. 
“Y/N stop.” His eyes widened once he realized how bad that sounded. “I mean… I didn’t mean it like that?” He chuckled dryly, it was more of a statement rather than a question. 
When you kept quiet but sat down next to him regardless, and ate your noodles, he decided you were at least comfortable enough to hear him talk. “This whole huge crush on you thingy… that’s not gonna ruin our friendship or anything, right? If you’re uncomfortable I’ll just stop showing up when you’re around for a—”
“What?! No! Jungkook, I’m not uncomfortable.” You sighed. “I’m just a bit surprised, I guess.”
“Why though?” He asked innocently, his big doe eyes looking straight at you, making you slightly nervous. 
“It’s just… you do realize you’re quite popular right?”
“What’s that gotta do with this situation?”
“I thought I wasn’t your type.” 
“You don’t get to decide that.”
That was the last civil conversation you had with him until he decided it was a good idea to cling to you almost every single day, pestering on the idea of this whole trial dating. Everyone other than Yoongi, who was neutral (read: don't really care enough to actually voice an opinion at the moment), was pretty much on board with his plan. You being single for a year now definitely did not help your case. They kept saying that you needed to lit up your dating engine again, so it wouldn’t be rusty. 
It was not that you did not find Jungkook attractive. Heck, he was one of the most attractive person you had ever laid your eyes on. It was just, weird? He felt like a brother, the same as the rest of the boys. If you didn’t treat any of them different, then you should not with Jungkook either, right?
“Have you maybe considered that maybe she’s tired of your bullshit?” Yoongi blurted with a blank expression, as he continue to munch on his burger. 
“It’s only been two weeks.” Jungkook protested. “Besides, you never know 'till you try, right?” He winked at you. 
You rolled your eyes. “I’m good, Kookie.” You pinched his cheeks, a little bit too hard. 
“H-hey!” He pouted, his cheeks forming even rounder. “Two days! Two days!” He suddenly shouted. 
“Oh boy…” Hoseok side-eyed the rest of you, clearly done with the younger one. 
“Give me two days, Y/N!” He said with his two fingers right in front of your face. “You don’t have plans this weekend, right?”
“Hey, maybe—“ Namjoon didn’t even get to finish his sentence before the lad interrupted. 
“I’ll take you on two dates and then you can decide afterwards.” He grinned, as if that was the most brilliant thing he had ever thought of. “If you still don’t like me after that then I will gracefully back off.” He threw his hands in the air. 
“You promise?” You suddenly spoke, after being silent for a while. 
“Wait, you’re actually considering—“ Jin stood up from his seat, almost knocking his table. 
Jungkook hurriedly covered Jin’s mouth, not letting yet another man finish his sentence again. “I promise!” He saluted, grinning so hard his cheeks almost hurt. 
“Are you really sure?” Yoongi whispered to you. 
You only shrugged. Truthfully, you were not sure either. But at this point, you just wanted Jungkook to get over his girl hyperfixation of the month. Which was, you. 
You just did not buy the story of him being head over heels on you since day one. As if he didn’t look like a Greek god himself? As if you did not know how women and even men would kill just to get a taste of him. You just wanted him to get it over with, so he can realize how weird the whole idea was and went back to being the goofball friend you once knew. 
Right, so.
Now here you were, basically having a mini dress-up montage moment, picking an outfit for your cinema date. Even after spending almost an hour getting ready you ended up with just wearing your usual crop top and baggy jeans, hoping it will be fine. Clearly you didn’t wanna seem like a try-hard. It was just Jungkook. He had seen you with pajamas and you didn’t hear him complain, so there shouldn’t be a problem. Why did you even go through the trouble to pick an outfit? You wondered yourself. 
Ten minutes later and Jungkook was already ringing your phone. 
“I’m at your lobby!” He exclaimed loudly over the phone. 
“You’re early.”
“Just can’t wait to see you.” You could not see his face, but you knew he was grinning like an idiot. “Hurry down! Oh, and bring your jacket.”
You didn’t expect him to came with a motorbike. A huge one not to mention. Something stirred in your stomach for a millisecond seeing him in a leather jacket. 
He took a spare helmet and innocently handed it to you. “Gotta make sure my girl is safe.” He sheepishly said. 
You tried your best to ignore the nickname, and spoke. “I didn’t know you ride a motorcycle.” You said, taking the helmet he gave in your hands. 
“I’m just too lazy to drive sometimes so I just lift on Hobi’s car.” He shrugged. “Why? Are you scared?” He teased. 
“Of course not.” You said and put on the helmet. You did not miss his small snickers when you struggle to hop on his Harley, having to grab him by his shoulders. 
“Okay, just wanna let you know, I drive like suuuuuper fast. So, you have to hug me to be safe!” He giggled. 
You rolled your eyes, even if he couldn’t see. “I’m just gonna head back upstairs...”
“Don’t be such a sourpuss.” He chuckled. “I’m a good driver, Namjoon approved! But you can grab onto my jacket if you want.” 
The movie was great. 
And that was a lie, cause truth to be told, you could barely focus on the plot. Every time you caught a glimpse of the boy next to you, his eyes were already looking at you. While it was true that you had not been dating for quite some time, you could feel your spidey-sense tingling, as if you were to turn your head towards him, something would happen. Thinking about it was not exactly the best thing for you.
“We’re getting ice cream.” Jungkook cheerfully said, as you both walked out the cinema. 
“That’s not a question?” You couldn’t help but to smile at the silliness. 
“Not a chance I’m letting you go home yet.” 
“Is this a date or a kidnapping?” 
“Could be both if you want.” He laughed. “So…” He cutely put his hands in his pockets as you walked. 
“So?”
“So… how’s life?” 
“You did not just ask me that.” You laughed.
“What? I’m just trying to make actual conversation!” He laughed as well, but later on his expression softened. “You seemed down these past couple of days though?” 
You tilted your head slightly. You didn’t think he would notice. 
“You… noticed?”
“Of course I did!” He grinned, patting his chest proudly. “You didn’t talk that much at our last movie night at Taehyung’s. You usually love to debate after watching a movie.” He chuckled. "The fact that you're not even starting a discussion right now, is lowkey concerning."
That was because of an entirely different thing, but you chose not to say. “I haven't even told Yoongi.” 
“Even if you tell him, he wouldn’t tell anyone either, so what’s your point?” 
“That’s fair.” You broke a small smile. 
“What happened?” He stopped mid-track, suddenly losing a bit of confidence in his speaking tone. “I mean, only if you’re comfortable enough to tell me…”
Your expression softened. “It’s a bit stupid…”
“It’s okay, I’ll listen!” He nodded towards you. “I’ll just quickly grab those ice cream and we’ll sit down somewhere?” 
Minutes later he came back with two ice creams and a big stupid grin plastered on his face as usual. “Here you go, let’s sit down on that bench.”
You nodded and thanked him before following him to the bench. 
“Come sit close to me!” He patted right next to him. When you only looked at him blankly. He added, “Please?”
You sat down close to him but left a bit of space enough so that your shoulders wouldn’t touch. 
“Are you cold?” 
“Uh… no.”
“Okay, good.” He smiled and took a big bite of his ice cream. “So, do you still wanna tell me? Or we could also just sit and talk shit about Jin while we eat ice cream if you don’t want!”
You smiled. Looking into his eyes, you could feel his sincerity. It could be just you, but you felt somewhat… safe. 
“I used to date this one guy… We dated for three months before I ended things with him.” 
You looked up to Jungkook, expecting to see a negative expression but he remained silent, only nodding to signal you to continue. 
“To be fair we haven’t been in touch for almost a year, but he suddenly called me. He was drunk and said a bunch of nonsense. I still replied at first, cause I was worried for his safety. But after I found out he was drunk at home, I bid my goodbye. Then he suddenly said…” You took a deep breath. “He said that I’m a 4.5 with a bitch attitude and being picky won’t help me.” You broke into a sad grin. “It’s stupid, I know—“
“Who is this fucker? Can I beat the shit outta him? How come I’ve never heard about this?!”
“Probably cause this is how you react.” You chuckled. “It had me quite bothered for quite sometime, maybe the fact that I also haven’t dated in a while adds to it, but I guess I feel somewhat better now.” 
“So that’s why you said you thought you weren’t my type?” 
“Huh?”
“That fucker needs to get his eyes and brain checked.” He shook his head. “You know, it’s fine to not want to settle for less.” He said as he looked at the sun setting in the sky. “He’s just butthurt you don’t want him back.” 
You stayed silent but nodded.
“His dick’s probably small anyway.” When you slapped his arm, he laughed. “What? Am I wrong? Why did you even break up with him?”
“He's sexist!”
“And his dick is small.” He followed. 
“Jungkook!” You began to laugh as well. 
“You know you’re easily a ten, but I’ll give a nine for now.” He said, pretending to be serious with rubbing his chin and squinting his eyes. 
“Why? What deduct the one point?”
“Cause you haven’t like me back yet.” 
“God, make that at least five points then, I hate you.” You rolled your eyes, but laughed. 
He smiled softly. “Feeling better?” 
“Well, I guess? But now my ice cream's all melty.” You pouted, trying to lick some that was melting down the cone. 
“That’s why you eat fast like me.” He proudly said. 
“And have stomach problem? No thanks.”
“Here let me just…” He licked a stripe from your cone and took a big bite. “There.”
You were taken aback. So stunned that you could only blink a few times at him. 
“What? Don’t tell me that turned you on?” He smirked. 
“You… Jungkook, that’s gross!” You whined, which only resulted in his laughter. 
The next day Jungkook wanted a full day date. Boy kept saying that he wanted fair chance since it was his last day. He already planned a list of things both of you would do and all, and the first being eating brunch with you. 
“Do you really have to come this early?” You complained as you opened your apartment door for the guy. 
When the said guy sheepishly didn’t move and enter, you raised one of your eyebrows. His hands were behind his back, clearly holding something, and you can see both of his arms flexed, seemingly grasping something tightly. You were searching for his boyish grin, but his expression seemed worried instead. 
“I got you flowers.” He said, sounding discouraged. 
“Oh?” You replied, but wondered why he just kept standing and not move. 
“I found out last minute that you don’t like flowers…” He frowned. “Yoongi told me in the group chat after I got too excited and sent them a pic of the flowers I got you.”
He looked like a lost puppy, and suddenly you had the urge to hug him to ease all his pain away. You stopped yourself before the impulse got the best of you and you grabbed him by the forearm, dragging him inside and closing the door. 
“You can’t stay in that position the whole day, you have to hand me the flowers.” You folded your arms, trying to hold in a chuckle. 
“But you don’t like them!”
“I haven’t even seen them.”
He finally moved his hands and revealed a small bouquet of fresh daisies. It was a simple bouquet, nothing too extravagant with a brown wrapping paper. It somehow reminded you of his smile and how radiant he looked when he did so. Yes, you did not like flowers, they were unpractical, it felt like an unnecessary addition, a waste of space. But somehow you like it. It made you feel all warm and fuzzy and it was very pleasant. It made you wanna accept it with open arms. Truthfully, the description did not really feel like it was describing flowers anymore, but you decided to not further ponder on it. 
“Thank you.” You took the flowers and sniffed it, before setting it down on your table. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t know, I feel so dumb cause everyone knew already and—“
“Hey, we’ve only known each other for three months.” You assured. “Besides, it’s really not much of a big deal, I actually like them.” 
“You do???”
“Yeah, they look pretty. I don’t know how long I can keep them looking like that though.” 
“Oh my god…” He exhaled deeply. “I was so worried it would be a deal breaker or something. I was literally shaking!”
He laughed and showed his right hand in front of you, it was shaking slightly. You didn’t know why he laughed at it, you didn’t find it funny. 
“It happens sometimes when I’m nervous.” He chuckled. 
Instead of saying something, you took his hand into yours just by intuitive. It was impulsive, but you let go before he had the chance to intertwine his fingers with yours. He didn’t comment on your behavior, but a smile was still on his face as he waited for you to grab your things to go. 
The brunch was on this small cafe near your place. You insisted on paying this time, since he paid for yesterday. The brunch was spent with him trying to sneakily hold your hand, but failed every single time. 
Next activity on the list was buying clothes together. As cringey as that sounded, and you even almost opposed the idea, Jungkook said that he needed to buy new outfit and he wanted to hear your feedback. Plus, some of his clothes barely fit him anymore since he decided to become a gym rat. 
“You actually look great in those skirt.” 
“You’re joking.” You denied, but twirled around in front of the mirror anyway, while trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need the purchase. 
“I’ll buy them for you if you won’t.” 
“We didn’t have all those money-saving talk with Namjoon only for you to say that.” You folded your arms. 
“Oh come on, you look great!” He pointed to you and his lips forming into a small pout. “Besides, we’re on a date today so I think that’s a pretty good excuse.” 
“I thought we are here to help you buy some clothes, not buy me skirt that I probably won’t wear that often.” 
“Let me spoil you for once… please?” He begged, eyes all sparkly. His lips shined along with his two lip piercings. 
“Alright, fine... I’ll get the skirt, but!” You eyed him. “Only if you buy that straight-cut jeans you just tried before.”
“Deal.”
“That’s it? You’re not gonna argue on how those aren’t on trend anymore?” You raised an eyebrow. 
“I was gonna buy them anyways. You were practically drooling when I showed you.” He smirked and wiggled his eyebrows playfully at you. “Kinda was just waiting for you to admit it…”
You only rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t open your lips to deny his words either. 
After you changed back into your clothes and Jungkook paid for the purchases, he went back to you with a sly grin on his face and you immediately suspected something. He came back with a pair of matching string bracelet. 
“You can just not wear them later if you don’t want to, but let me be delusional for today, okay?”
You both left the store after you let him put the bracelet on your wrist. 
Next in line was spending time on a local amusement park. It was nothing too extreme, just a small carnival that has a few rides and snack booths. The guy kept insisting that you both should take a picture when the sun set. 
“Cotton candy!” Jungkook sprinted to the booth like a hungry kid, his laughter could be heard even as him getting far from where you were standing. 
You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you walked to his direction. 
“Pink, blue, or green?” 
“Blue, maybe?”
“Alright.” He grinned and paid the seller as they handed the blue cotton candy stick. “Why blue though?” 
“Dunno, just kinda matches your outfit.”
“Sweetheart, I’m wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt.” He giggled. 
Which should be a crime! Cause who even looks that good in a basic white t-shirt??? You thought to yourself. “Your jeans, I guess..?”
“If you say so.” He chuckled. “Wanna ride the ferris wheel?”
“Being in a such small space with you sounds dangerous.” 
“I’ll protect you, babe.” He winked. 
“The danger is you, babe.” You mocked. 
He smirked, clearly amused. “Well, at least I got you to call me babe, that’s a win for me.” 
“You’re anno— hmph!” He stuffed a ball of cotton candy in your mouth, laughing continuously at the sight. 
After wandering around for a while and finishing the cotton candy, Jungkook dragged you to the shooting game. You refused, saying how you never really win these kind of games, but knowing him, losing was never really his thing. You saw how big the main prize was and you know Jungkook, you knew his ego, you knew damn well that was what he was aiming. 
“If you’re aiming for that giant teddy bear, don’t. We can’t carry that thing around...”
“You can’t tell me what to do.” He didn’t listen and instead paid for the game tickets. 
“We can’t carry that in your motorcycle, that’s like another passenger!”
“Just watch me.” He smirked, already aiming with the toy gun. 
You rolled your eyes, there’s really no telling him on this. “Fine, whatever.” 
After just two shots, you hear him jump in celebration, fist in the air and the staff rang the bell for him winning the price. You were ready to complain, but the staff handed you a small frog plushie instead. You looked at Jungkook and saw his boyish grin, his eyes almost turned into crescents. You looked back at the plushie in your hands and couldn’t lie to yourself, it was very adorable. 
“You didn’t aim for the grand prize?”
“You told me not to.” He shrugged. “Plus, you like frogs, right?”
“Well…” 
“I wished I took a picture of your expression when they handed you the plushie.” He laughed, a soft blush decorating his cheeks. 
You finally agreed to ride the ferris wheel with him. The park was going to close in an hour anyway, and you thought why not, it wouldn’t hurt anyone to go for one ride. 
You sat across him, hugging the frog plushie on your lap. It was silent for the first few minutes, but it was comfortable, not awkward. You were just looking at the view from above and silently admiring it. 
“Did you have fun?” He asked. Suddenly your attention went back to him and his smile. 
“Well, yeah… I did.” You nodded. “Thanks.” 
“Don’t thank me, I had fun too.” He smiled. “Everything’s fun with you though so I may be biased…” 
You didn’t really know what to say to counter his words. You just smiled and went back to looking at the window. 
“Mind if I sit next to you?”
“Uh… sure. Just be careful, you might tilt the cart.” 
Jungkook carefully moved to sit next to you. He muttered a small “phew” as he sat down. “Wow, the view’s better here.” He said, looking straight at you. 
“What do you mean? How—” And then it clicked to you. “Oh my god… shut up!” You hit his arm, and he laughed. 
“Take my compliment for once!” 
“Never.” You stuck your tongue out. 
The ride soon came to an end. You remembered that you promised Jungkook to take a picture with the sunset, but out of nowhere it started to rain. Although it was just small drizzle, it’s hard to take picture and avoid getting soaked at the same time. You both ran to the nearest sheltered place, with Jungkook’s leather jacket covering both of you. 
You said your sorry about his now wet jacket, but the boy did not seem to be bothered, as you can see how bright and happy he was, just from running with you under the rain. You sighed, but an idea came to you as soon as you saw a photo booth machine, not far from where you were standing. 
“Do you… maybe wanna do that instead?”
“Photobooth?” He looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe your words. 
“Why? You don’t want to?”
“No! I want to!” He said, almost too quickly. “But it’s just weird that you suggest it. But it’s a good weird!” He chuckled. 
“I promised you a picture, so we’re getting a picture.” 
“Aww.” Jungkook pout his lips in a kissy way, teasing you. 
“Let’s go before I regret it.” You dragged him inside the booth. 
The first pose you playfully put peace signs behind Jungkook’s head, giving him bunny ears, while he only stuck out his tongue. The second one, Jungkook made a love sign with both of his hands, and you surprised him with a middle finger, which he yelled at you afterwards, but couldn’t really continue to complain as the countdown for the next photo were already starting. 
Since Jungkook spent at least three and a half seconds with his protest, you both were panicking for the last picture, running out of ideas. As the countdown stating two, he suddenly pulled you closer and leaned on your shoulder. The shutter flashed and the photo was taken. You were still in awe and couldn’t process what just happened. You only followed when you saw Jungkook making his way out from the booth to collect the picture. 
The guy giggled like a highschool boy, taking the printed photos, then giving one copy to you. You stared at the last picture, how genuine Jungkook’s smile when he leaned on your shoulder, while you had your eyes widened in surprise. You felt your face heating in embarrassment. 
“Ugh… can we just cut out the last picture?” 
“I was thinking the same thing, I’m putting it on my wallet!” He said, eyes still looking up and down on the set of photos. 
When you only looked at him in disbelief, he uttered a small “what?”, and laughed. 
Both of you ended up eating some cups of ramen in a nearby convenience store, as you wait for the rain to stop pouring. He took you home right after, insisting on waking you to your door. 
“Take care of little Kookie for me, yeah?” He said, pointing at your frog plushie, as you stopped at your unit’s front door. 
“Why is he named after you?” You chuckled. 
“I’m his father!” He pretended to be offended.
“Well, say bye to your papa now, little Kookie.” You waved the plushie’s small hand to him. 
Jungkook felt his heart somersault. He turned away for a second, covering his mouth. He cleared his throat. “Well, uh… thank you again, for today…”
“Yeah! Thank you too…” You chewed your inner lips, hugging your plushie close. 
“I uh…” He awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. “I just wanna let you know that what I said to you… about deciding whether you like me or not after the dates… I was just saying stuff. I don’t wanna pressure you into deciding your feelings for me or anything, I genuinely just wanna spend some time with you, and I’m thankful for your time.” 
You nodded, smiling at him. Your eyes locked with each other for a quick second. Your heart skipped a beat. Maybe it was the moonlight, or the lamp in front of your door that you recently just got replaced. Either way, you could see the stars in Jungkook’s eyes and his skin glowed, but so did his lips. They were practically sparkling and glossy, you wondered if he had put any lip balm over it. For a moment, your attention stopped at his lips, just wondering how it would feel against yours. Would it be soft? Would you feel the cold metal of his lip piercing against your skin? 
The man in front of you seemed to be lost in his thoughts as well. You swore you saw his eyes darted to your lips for a quick glance, before coming back to your eyes. Just when he leaned down a bit to your height level… 
You froze. What was that? You felt your stomach turned, you couldn’t exactly point out whether it was due to nervousness, or if you were simply just afraid. You took a step back and your back almost hit the front door.
“You should head back, it could rain again soon…” You said, looking away. 
“Oh.” There was disappointment in his voice. “Okay then… bye.” He waved to you awkwardly and walked away. 
As you see his figure walking away, you went inside your apartment and closed the door behind you. Sitting down on your sofa, you put your hand over your chest. Funny how your heart was still beating so fast. You were panicking, feeling everything all at once. Nervousness, excitement, curiosity, but mostly fright. The unknown territory was making you scared. The new feelings you were feeling, you didn’t even know if it would be okay to feel it. 
Still laying down on your sofa, you took your phone and dialed your best friend. 
“You called.” You heard Yoongi’s voice from the other line. 
“Why are you saying it like that.” 
“You only call when you’re stressing over something, otherwise, you only text.” 
You hate how smart and observant your friend was sometimes. “I think I feel something for Jungkook.” 
“Isn’t that… I don’t know, good?” 
“I don’t know… it just hit me like a truck, okay? One minute I wanna punch that stupid grin out of his face, the next thing I know, his lips looked so shiny and he got me wondering if his piercings would feel cold against my lips.” 
“Okay, wow.” Yoongi said in amusement. “Care to elaborate?”
“What if I’m just… super horny or something? I mean I haven’t been with anyone for like god knows how long now, and I could just be desperate and Jungkook is good looking, extremely good looking may I add, and—“
“Okay, okay… Y/N, pause for a second.” Yoongi sighed. “So you think you might be just horny and you feel bad for it?”
“Of course I feel bad! I don’t wanna use Jungkook like that! Just because he has this stupid crush on me, doesn’t mean I can do whatever I want with him. I’m not that kind of person!” You exclaimed, the volume of your voice getting slightly higher. 
“Tell me, how do you feel after the dates? Did you enjoy it?”
“Well yeah, I had a great time actually. I didn’t expect Jungkook to be that caring, and he’s actually very good at initiating conversation…” You wondered what else you could point out. 
“During that time, did Jungkook mention or do anything sexual?” 
“N-no! Of course not! Yoongi, do you take me as the fuck-on-the-first-date kind of person???” You said, slightly offended.
“So you like him.” He stated casually. 
“I’m sorry?”
“You caught feelings. Just admit that Jungkook has officially win you over.”
“I… what…” 
“I knew it. I shouldn’t have let you go on those dates, now both of you are gonna be so gross when we hang out...” You heard your friend groaned. 
“I like him?” You asked, more to yourself rather than to your best friend. 
“Maybe you should call Jungkook instead and tell him.”
You widened your eyes in horror. “No way, that guy only has a crush on me, it’s more of a hyperfixation, like I’m his girl of the month or something. I’m sure it’s not like how you think it is.”
“You should ask him yourself instead of making assumptions, just saying. And you know…” Yoongi paused for a second before continuing. “I think that kid is actually a good person, despite how dumb and annoying he looks.” When he got no respond from you, he spoke again. “Alright, I’ll leave you with your thoughts, just make sure you’ll talk with him about this, okay? Take care, Y/N.” 
Yoongi hang up the call while you were still sitting down, expression blank, staring at the wall in front of you. 
Jungkook didn’t text you at all after the date. Not like you text each other regularly, but you lowkey expected him to after. You wanted to call him, or at least text him. You wanted to say how you feel but you were again, scared. You began to think if you were reading it wrong. He was popular, you wondered if he just acted like that to everyone, if you were catching feelings, while he just wanted to hang out and have a bit of fun. After all, he never really explicitly said that he had feelings for you, all you knew that he admitted his giant crush for you while being under the influence of alcohol. 
You never hear from Jungkook again until the next week. Hoseok invited you all to game night over his place. You wanted so badly to bail and fake being sick, but Yoongi picked you up, basically forcing you to come and face your problem like an actual adult.
With all these new and mixed emotions that you were still getting used to, the thought of seeing Jungkook in person sounded so overwhelming. He would probably just act like how he usually would, because of course, why wouldn’t he. After all you were the one who suddenly took a weird turn.
“Finally!” Hoseok shouted, as he opened the door for both of you and Yoongi. 
“Come on, switch with Namjoon, he sucks!” Jin spoke while his eyes still not leaving the TV screen and his fingers loud against the controller. 
They were playing Tekken 8 on Hoseok’s Playstation. You saw how Namjoon was basically getting his ass kicked, playing as a Panda character, while Jin quickly leading himself towards victory using the character that coincidentally has the same name as him. 
Jin Kazama wins. 
The oldest one screamed happily, while Namjoon’s protests and excuses could be heard very loudly. Everyone laughed at the two, so it was easy to spot the one who didn’t laugh as much, whose expression didn’t hold that much excitement, sitting on the edge of the sofa just playing with his phone instead. 
“Y/N, come on!” Jin patted the on the carpet to the now empty seat next to him, since Namjoon already excused himself to get more popsicles from the fridge. 
You followed and sat down next to Jin on the carpet, which was directly in front of Jungkook, who was slouching on the couch. 
Sitting down quietly, you took the controller and beginning to scroll through the rooster of characters. You chose the character named Lili, while Jin stayed with his current main. 
When you beat Jin and the sound of your friends cheering loudly was heard, you began to feel a little bit relaxed, at the very least you could forget for a moment about your situation with Jungkook. That was until, you heard Yoongi spoke. 
“Jungkook, your turn.” 
You immediately turned your head towards your best friend, eyeing him straight. How could he betray you like this was beyond you. 
“Nah, you play I’m not really in the mood.” He rejected politely.
Your eyes went back to the screen because you refused to see Jungkook’s expression. You pretended to busy yourself pressing the dpad button up and down on the character choices. 
“This is the first time I’ve ever heard Jungkook refusing a match.” Taehyung said while munching on his potato chips. 
“Yeah, that’s so unlike you, man!” Hobi joined. “Come on, we all know you’re good, but Y/N doesn’t know that yet!” He added. 
A small groan came out from Jungkook’s mouth before he stood up, and once again everyone cheered. Jin stood to switch seats with him. The man locked his eyes with you once, before sitting down and picking up the controller in his hand. He didn’t take too long picking a character. His choice landed on a boxer character. 
The match went quietly with only the sound of the video game from the speaker. Your friends behind you somehow went silent as well, and the atmosphere in the room became very tense. 
“Is it just me or it kinda feels like they’re actually fighting with each other…” Jin whispered to Hoseok who was sitting next to him. Hoseok only signaled with his hand shaking next to his neck to cut it out, while the rest only widened their eyes and try their best not to make any comment. 
You pretended like you did not hear any of it and kept mashing the controller buttons. The milliseconds of your attention being taken away from the game gave your opponent a leaway to break your combo and finally beating down your character. 
Steve Fox wins. 
“All right, Yoongi you switch with me, I’m gonna go get some air.” You excused yourself and headed to the balcony, closing the door behind you. 
Technically it was not a lie. It just got a bit stuffy with eight people inside an apartment living room. Especially when the guy you suddenly had feelings for was in the equation as well. 
You searched your back pocket for your pod and cursed silently when it was nowhere inside your jeans pocket. 
“Looking for your vape?” Jungkook entered the balcony uninvited, wiggling your small disposable vape pod in front of you. But when you were about to take it from him, he withdrew his hand. “I thought you’ve stopped.”
“I did. I only do it when I’m nervous. That’s why it’s a disposable.” You said weakly. 
“I noticed.” He replied in a monotone, now pocketing the pod inside his pants, refusing to give it to you. 
“You smoke, don’t act all high.” You retorted. 
“Well, have you seen me smoke these past few weeks?” 
“No, actually… yeah, now that I think of it, you didn’t even smoke once when we went out—“ You stopped when the memories of your date went through your head. “Jungkook, about that…” You bit your lips, nervously facing him. 
He also turned his body to your direction, looking at you directly. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly said. 
“Huh? For what?” 
“I feel like I’ve pressured you into something you don’t actually want. I’ve been thinking and re-thinking about it the past few days and it drives me crazy. I may have feelings for you, but that doesn’t give me the right to drag you along to do stuff with me just because you enjoyed spending time with me as a friend.”
“Wait, Jungkook, I don’t feel that way!”
“I know! That’s why I apologize—“
“No! I mean, I didn’t feel like you dragged me along or anything. I genuinely enjoyed our date and…” You looked away, taking a deep breath before continuing. “If I’m not reading it wrong, you’re saying you truly have feelings for me?” 
“Isn’t that obvious already?” 
“Well, I thought I was just your girl obsession of the week or something… You have celebrity crushes left and right, okay?! Hell, you even had a crush on Namjoon at one point!!!” 
“The Namjoon crush was a joke. Man just got some nice thighs and I was just admiring it.” He defended. 
You took another deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry as well… the emotions were all just come clashing to me at once and I just told you to go home instead of dealing with it.” 
“But, you rejected my kiss...” He said with a weak voice, you almost didn’t catch it. 
“Cause I haven’t figured out what I want yet. I thought I was just so touch deprived that your lips looked inviting that day.” You admitted while cursing yourself secretly inside your mind. That was lowkey embarrassing. 
“Try being me, your lips look inviting every single day!” He exclaimed, his mood now seemed to be improving. 
“Be serious.” You hit his sides. He muttered an “ow” but you doubted it even hurt the slightest bit. 
“So now you’ve figured out what you want?” His doe eyes looking at you directly. 
“I’m getting there… I guess.” You broke the eye contact, it was a bit too much for you and suddenly you felt a bit sweaty. “But I think I like you too.” 
“Say that again while looking at me.” 
“Hell no.” You suddenly covered your face with both of your hands. 
“Please?” He grabbed your wrists, softly trying to prey open your hands. “I just want to have the visual memory of it captured in my brain.”
When you finally loosened your grip, he took his chance and held both of your hands in his. He grabbed them for a few seconds, intertwining his fingers with yours, before letting them go. He traced his fingers along your right wrist where you wore the bracelet that he got you, the one he got matching with his, and then moved his hands up to cup your face. The entire time he did all that, you could actually feel the shakiness in his hands, and it melted your heart. 
“Can I?”
You nodded and he did not waste any second before dipping in and closing the gap between you. 
Oh boy you were right, his piercings did feel cold against your lips, but that was only for a quick second before everything felt warm and soft, and your mind became blurry. You were moving your lips against his carefully, afraid to accidentally hurt him by his piercing, but instead earned a small bite on your bottom lip from Jungkook. You gasped and pulled away, hitting his chest. Since when were you in his embrace? That you did not know. 
“We gotta head back now or they’ll get suspicious.”
He giggled and kissed your forehead. “They’re already suspicious, babe.” 
“Still, we gotta head back…”
“You guys done making out?! We’re hungry!!!” You heard Jimin shouted from inside the apartment. 
Jungkook and you looked at each other with widened eyes, before laughing in unison. He pecked you on the lips one more time before running back inside with you, holding hands. 
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Thank you for reading! 🌸
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court-jobi · 2 months ago
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Hi, is there any Headcanon of a Married relationship between Izuku Midoriya and the reader? Could you write based on the Canon? Although the Reader, besides being a heroine (Izuku the teacher), is a model for clothing brands, cosmetics, etc! like any celebrity.
The reader is female!
ooooo~ how fun, anon! Let's see what I got... first headcanon request, here we go!!
A/N: I've gotten several fun asks recently, and am moving those larger works to the top of my WIPs as time allows. This is so fun, and you all suggesting prompts like these make it a joy!
For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!
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Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!reader (SFW)
MARRIED HEADCANONS!
Married!Izuku who -even though you're coming up on your third wedding anniversary- still crams love notes on index cards into your e-reader before he leaves for the day. You have it plugged into the side table of the living room and will pick it up as soon as you come home from work to wind down; so even though he will have a later arrival home than you, you'll hardly feel alone with Izuku's words of affirmation pouring out their surprise greeting.
Izuku writes in the middle of the night when he wakes before you- whether by an overactive mind or a nightmare he'd sooner forget. Rather than disturb your much needed rest, will channel reflective thoughts towards you onto paper- and sneaks their secrets around the house where you'll least expect them. Just when you think you know all his hiding spots, he picks a new one to surprise you. Once satisfied with his "journaling" tactic, he'll scoop you back up against him and settle into sleep.
Married!Izuku who chooses a travel tumbler for you every morning and fills it every time it's empty. Car ride ahead? It's crafted with your homebrewed coffee to keep you awake. Got a photoshoot ahead? Water it is, keeping his love hydrated. You are his beloved beverage goblin and though he finds your car to be a tervis graveyard, what's one more dish to wash if it makes you happy?
This man, who will hiss when your hands are too cold against his, getting ramped up far too easily when it comes to worrying over your health... meanwhile Izuku toughs through the worst of allergies himself with a hundred sniffles (and an aversion to cough medicine.) It's one of the first big arguments you had as a couple: you forcing him to take better care of himself when his self-preservation streak peeks through and nearly wears him into the ground during grad school. He'll start to defend himself, only to be caught by flashbacks to the last time he tried managing things on his own, and rightfully apologize. You are a team, and Izuku tries his hardest to let you step in and give him the same care and caution he gives you. It's a hard lesson, managing pride when it comes to taking care of someone so selflessly, and Izuku is still unused to this treatment when turned to himself. You're doing your best, armed with a world of grace to set him straight.~
Married!Izuku who is a phenomenal teacher. One of the most patient souls you've ever met, which is a large draw that led you to date him! You're encouraged to stretch your ways of thinking, listening to his alternative points of view... and find yourself marveling that a man who's so closely engrossed with training the next generation of heroes is still so happy to watch the news at the end of the day in hopes of learning more!
You've gifted him a notetaking tablet that's meant to replace his waning supply of favorite notebooks, but if you find that blue Campus brand in a shop that's selling your brand deals somewhere, you are absolutely picking it up for him. He cries every time you make him close his eyes and hold out his hands, producing your surprise in giddy silence. "They don't make this edition anymore!! H-HONEY!!"
^^^After a day of sparring with his students -giving them a run for their money- you'll be the one patching him up out of sight of Recovery Girl, everything from a lightly busted lip to each blooming bruise he's gonna feel in the morning. You're surprised he's getting hit as much as he is when he's still renowned as one of the heartiest teachers at UA- quirk or not, he is no lightweight. You may worry over him just as much, but with your honorary brother-in-law 'Kacchan' running drills on him on the weekends, you know Izuku is in tip-top shape. No one is invincible, after all.
Will gladly talk to your mom on the phone~ welcomes it, actually! Izuku wants to learn every little tidbit and creature comfort he can about you, so any nerves he had about meeting your family when you began dating dissolved once he kept that goal in mind. (This mentality won your father over well, to a comical degree once Izuku showed him the notes folder on his phone with your die-hard favorite secret pleasures only a loved one would know...) Allmight makes his trip to your dinner table every other week or so, becoming a ready and available father figure to you while yours lives hours away. It does your heart a world of good sitting in his nurturing company.
Married!Izuku will carry your luggage to and from the airport without a single grunt or complaint (That's what he continues to work out for, even as a teacher!) A few tears upon departure and arrival, sure, but will always ground himself steady in his pride over the hard work you're putting in. He's the one who calls to wish you a goodnight when you're on location for hero support, and a sends a text for every morning and lunch break. Regardless of timezone, he's going to make sure you are part of his routine like nothing's changed. You rely on this consistancy more than life. Living apart -even short term- is expected at this stage of your career where you're needed more than ever to help fund your hero ventures through sponsorships... but Izuku will forever be your biggest supporter.
///Little does he know, you are cramming in twice as many roles to help fund a certain someone's hero suit development, per Bakugou's discretion. It's the one, solitary lie of omission you keep from your husband, but one you trust is going to be worth it in the end to see him shine where he wants to once again. He'll always be your hero, but you'll help him see that realized self any way you can.///
Married!Izuku will be flooding the groupchat with every single advertisement that features your face. Every last one. And there are many. The girls will share you on each of their socials in support of whatever you are sporting, while the boys will... look respectfully and congratulate Izuku on his absolute knockout of a girl. Izuku is just insanely proud of his wife and will make it everyone's problem~
He may be operating on a teacher's salary, but is the most thoughtful gift-giver. Married!Izuku will choose experiences over 'things' when it comes to you, like vacationing to the largest library in the world where you can spend hours holed up on a loveseat somewhere, taking notes on all the old tomes you find, using those classic academia desks as if you were still at the 'study abroad' college where you met... Trip planning gives you both something to look forward to amidst your busy schedules, and takes the financial pressure off you both as well. Not that he won't still treat you to just about anything you ask for when you're giving him that sweet, small 'please' standing in the checkout line at the corner store...
Married!Izuku, who misses you adorably when you're not home. He runs a fairly typical working schedule that lines up with yours for the most part-- makes him the happiest, coming home to you! You adhere to a few sacred rules in your shared home: you always go to bed together, you can occasionally go to bed angry- but always remain in each other's corners, and you know giving him head scritches is the easiest way to make Izuku pliant enough to sleep. He'll nurse your migraines that aren't so pretty, you'll give his hands massages when the phantom pains make them ache. Whatever you can do to give your man some ease into his life, you give wholeheartedly.
You'll kiss Izuku's every trouble away; and the ones that linger, you'll tend to as gently as you can until you can replace the thoughts with something sweeter, kinder, delicately on his still-healing heart when the embers remind him of old hurts you weren't around to see. You care for Deku just as you do your darling Izuku- as they are two sides of the same coin. You polish and affirm them both, strengthening all the parts that have made your life partner the man he is today. That made him him.
Married!Izuku: your darling husband with eyes that light up when you enter a room, mist up when they see you down, and stare eternally grateful on you as you listen and take in every word he has to give and through every promise shared-- just like your vows.
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urhoneycombwitch · 10 months ago
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imagine being loved by me
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🍯 honey flavour: your love has stood the test of time, thus far, but a party fit for a rockstar brings up some bitter emotions.
🐝 the bees: rockstar!Eddie x jealous!Reader
wc: 8k
cw: drugs and alcohol consumption, mentions of weight gain (eddie’s, in a positive manner), R has panic/anxiety attack, jealousy (talked about and resolved tho), softdom!Reader, softdom!Eddie, oral (E and R receiving), R has breasts + a V and referred to with she/her pronouns, P in V sex, cumming inside w/out protection
foreword: timeline is wobbly and may not align perfectly w canon bc I’m bad at math so shhhh suspend ur disbelief. based on this anon thank you v much anon <3
___
It’s the coldest January Hawkins has seen in ages. Snow banks sit high on the roadsides, air thick with snowflakes, three-AM fog brought in courtesy of the bitter wind chill. 
Under the yellow floodlight of a nearby streetlamp, your boyfriend is sucking down the last of a joint while you stamp your feet against the gravel parking lot.
“C’mon, Eddie,” you whine, crossing the arms of your fleeced puffer jacket, bouncing on your heels to keep the blood flowing. “My toes are gonna get frostbite.”
“A touch dramatic,” Eddie replies, unbothered. The cherry of the joint between his lips burns orange, casting a warm glow over Eddie’s cheekbones, the twinkle of snowflakes caught in his bangs. “I told you to go in without me, princess. Warmer in there.”
“Without you? As if.” You pull the pity card, and it works, ‘cuz it always does- that boy has got to learn how to say no to you, one of these days. 
Not today, though, because Eddie is tamping out the ember on the sole of his boot and crunching up the snowy path to sling an arm around your neck.
“Grub time,” he says against your hair, pressing his cold lips to the side of your forehead as you both make your way into Benny’s Burgers.
The heated air is a welcome relief, and save for a couple of old-timers at a side table, you and Eddie are the only customers in the place. 
Benny greets you both from where he’s flipping patties on the kitchen grill, waving a spatula at the corner booth- “All yours, kiddos. Want the usual?”
You and Eddie call out affirmatives as you sink into opposing seats, unwrapping yourselves from all your winter gear as you go.
“God bless Benny Hammond for expanding his night hours,” you say, piling your green scarf on the tabletop. “This is a good tradition for us, y’know. Post-band practice smoking and coffee- very rock and roll.”
“I concur.” Eddie tosses his knit hat at you playfully. “You, my lady, have the most rock ‘n roll soul I ever did see.”
As Benny approaches with two mugs of steaming coffee, you muse aloud, “Not sure if the amount of sugar you’re about to dump in your coffee is very metal, per se...”
“Y’hear that, Benny?” Eddie grabs a fistful of sugar packets and shakes them indignantly. “My girl’s trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. How’s a rockstar s’posed to live in these conditions?”
“Lord knows,” Benny says, sardonic, setting the mugs down and turning back to the kitchen.
Eddie winces as his hands wrap around the heat of the mug, and you notice right away. “Your fingers splitting again? I have that salve that you used last time, but it’s back at the trailer.”
He puts his hand face-up onto the table, and you slip yours into his, the deep fingertip grooves from guitar strings rough against your soft palm.
“I’ll live. Plus, it’s kind of metal, right?” Eddie runs a calloused thumb across the back of your hand.
You squeeze back, give him a wink. “Very metal.”
Eddie’s been working himself to the bone lately. Trying to stay in school and not drop out is a feat in itself, but compounded with the band practices that have only ramped up in length recently, it’s a lot to balance.
He hasn’t complained at all, of course. It’s not really in his nature.
In the past few weeks, however, he’s been imbued with this near-manic energy, a renewed sense of purpose. In between your own fitful sleeps you often wake in the early hours of the morning to find Eddie hunched over his desk, pen flying across his notebook as he reworks an old song or outlines a new one. Not that you weren’t proud of him before, but seeing him apply this newfound passion to his music has been a huge source of joy for you. 
And, if you’re being really honest, also a major turn on. I mean, the boy’s got swagger like no other, and you’re so glad he’s finally utilizing it on stage. Even if that stage is in the middle of a piece of shit dive bar. Still counts, in your book.
Benny drops off baskets of hot fries, a burger for Eddie, and a BLT for you. Methodic and familiar, you offload half your fries to Eddie’s basket as he slides his burger towards you for the first bite. 
After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Eddie balls up a napkin in his fist and raps the table with his knuckles. “So, uh. Kind of have some news.”
You slot the ketchup bottle back into its metal holder and look up with raised brows. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He looks suddenly nervous, knee knocking into the underside of the table as he bounces his leg compulsively. “You remember Paige Warner? Graduated in ‘81, brother is a baseball jock?”
When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath- his unease is kind of setting you on edge. 
“What about Paige Warner?” you prompt.
“She moved out to L.A. for a job and she’s working this scouting gig for some bigshot record,” he continues, absently pulling the thin napkin in his hands into pieces, staring vacantly at the mess. “And she wants Corroded Coffin to record and send out a demo to the label.”
As the news sinks in, your jaw drops. “Holy shit. What?”
“Yeah.” Eddie’s fidgeting with the paper scraps now, still not making eye contact with you. “She wants us to start recording next week. I haven’t told anyone else, yet, I wanted to make sure you were the first-”
You interrupt him with an excited little squeal (drawing glares from the old guys across the diner) and shove up from your side of the table to throw your arms around Eddie.
“Holy shit,” you repeat, laughing as Eddie pulls you into his lap- “Eddie, that’s amazing!”
“You think so?” he asks, your enthusiasm allowing his own to creep in; He slides his hands to your denim-clad hips, his self-professed favorite stress toy (well, tied for favorite with your thighs). 
“How come you were so nervous to tell me?” You ask him, gently, tucking his dark hair behind his ears so you can see his face better. “Were you thinking I’d react differently?”
He looks up at you wide-eyed, shakes his head- “No, no, I wasn’t worried about you reacting a certain way. I just… I’m just worried about what this’ll mean. You know. For us.”
“Us?” You echo, encouraging him to continue. 
Eddie squeezes at your hips, presses the crown of his head against your collarbone like he’s mustering up the courage to speak. “Yeah, us. I know L.A. isn’t your dream- shit, I don’t even know if it’s mine- but you didn’t sign up to go on the road like this. You’ve got college to consider, and-”
“So I’ll take a gap year,” you interrupt, putting a hand to his cheek to make him look at you again, and when he starts to protest, you talk over him. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my life yet anyways. Following my hot rockstar boyfriend to a new town sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”
He shakes his head again, and you can feel his dimples spring to life under your hand as he teases, “Gonna be my little groupie?”
“And more,” you confirm, giving him a kiss (chaste, so as not to invoke any more ire from the grumpy other customers) and sliding off his lap to return to your own seat. “I’ll be your assistant extraordinaire, if you want. Or bodyguard. Make sure none of the other groupie chicks get too close.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re the only groupie I need, sweetheart.”
Settling back into your respective seats, you both work on the last basket of fries while chatting genially about the future. Eddie mentions getting an apartment in Los Angeles, so there’s less of a commute, which branches the conversation into the logistics of a cross-country move, and then on to more important topics such as the alleged coolness of west-coast parties. 
“Who’s your celebrity hall pass?” you ask, out of pure interest, dipping a fry into the well of ketchup. “Like, say you’re rubbing elbows at some famous muckety-muck’s party and someone catches your eye. Who’re you taking back to the motel for a slutty roll in the hay?”
Eddie snickers at your phrasing, then says, “I mean, preferably, my super hot girlfriend-”
You throw a fry at his head. “That’s such a cop-out answer. In this hypothetical, Joan Jett is in red leather petting up on you and you’re saying you wouldn’t take her up on a one-night stand?”
A laugh bursts out of Eddie, a real, proper one where he throws his head back. “Are you actively encouraging me to hook up with some bimbo at a random party? Without you? Unlikely scenario on all fronts, babe.”
This earns him another launched fry, and he squawks, trying to shake it out of its place caught in his hair as you reprimand him- “Joan Jett is not some bimbo, watch your mouth! And what I’m saying is, if you didn’t at least try to score us a threesome with her, I’d be pissed.”
“Okay, baby,” Eddie soothes you a tad derisively, likely a ploy to avoid more flying food- “if I meet Joan Jett I will do my level best to get her in our bed. Scout’s honor.”
He holds up two fingers and wiggles them obscenely, grinning when you laugh again. “All right, Nosey McGee. Who are you taking home from the party?”
You hum, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, contemplating the options. “I guess I could be talked into a night with Kirk Hammett.”
Eddie’s turn to launch a fry. “You slut,” he chuckles, “That was a way quicker answer than mine.”
“Okay, fine. If I meet Kirk Hammett, I promise to at least make a bid for threesome. Deal?” You extend your pinkie across the table.
Eddie loops his little finger into yours. “Deal.”
____
The memory of that cozy diner evening years ago fades as you shake yourself to the present.
You aren’t two highschool kids with lofty dreams, anymore- after Eddie’s recovery from all that Upside Down bullshit in ‘86, Corroded Coffin took off. Even though Paige didn’t end up coming through with any deals, Eddie and his bandmates fought like hell to get signed- and by the end of that year, a small record label in the heart of downtown Chicago had taken the bait.
Corroded Coffin turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to Arken Records; by the spring of ‘87, business was booming thanks to the help of Corroded’s debut album, The Banished Ones- their new single was a chart-topper for over 6 weeks. (Smash Hit magazine’s latest review was titled “Fresh Sound Rises from Dirt Nowhere.” You have the paper clipping saved in your ever-growing folder with “rockstar boyfriend!!!” handwritten in black ink.) 
And in a few weeks, the band will set off on their first real tour, starting in Chicago and ending with a bang in an already sold-out show in Hawkins- Dustin, Steve, and the rest of the gang with VIP front-row seats, of course. 
As much as you and Eddie have grown and matured in the past few years, the core of you both has remained the same. Eddie is still just as dorky, goofy, and caring as he always has been, while you’ve kept that tenacious spirit and quick wit that he fell in love with back in the early days of dating. Even now, with his popularity rising and his rockstar dreams on their way to coming true, Eddie constantly brings his focus back to you. 
Pillow talks in cushy hotel beds, late night ramblings over post-show whiskeys, holding hands in the back of yet another cab- when he could be talking about the thousands of exciting things happening in his own life, Eddie is asking about you.
Did you talk to Robin last night, sweetheart? How’s ‘ol Birdie doin? What do you wanna wear to that dinner thingy tomorrow… could go naked for all I care. In fact you probably should because of feminism and all that. Did you sleep okay last night? Let me look at ya. You thinkin’ any more about those applications you got?
You’d taken a gap year to support Eddie, which you were happy to do, but with ‘87 drawing to a close, he’s been more insistent lately that you take a look at all your college options. Honestly, you’ve been enjoying the adventures that come with touring way too much to consider going back to the rigidity of school. 
And plus, having the love of your life nearly bleed out in your arms in a parallel dimension has totally realigned your priorities. If folks thought you and Eddie were attached at the hip before… 
He’ll likely argue you into academia, eventually. He always rolls high on persuasion. Damn him.
For now, you’ve got a party to attend. 
Arken Records is playing host, on the last night of 1987- in celebration of Corroded Coffin’s success and to kick off the New Year’s festivities, they’ve rented out a house in east Chicago for the event. 
Well, house isn’t the right word. More like mansion. Vaulted ceilings tall as a church’s, huge windows overlooking the Chicago river, a grand chandelier with flickering candles in nearly every room. 
When you and Eddie had toured the place a few days previous, he’d made a joking complaint low in your ear about not having the time to fuck you on every surface. Your laugh had reverberated off the sweeping mahogany floorboards, mostly at the expense of Eddie’s poor publicist who’d happened to hear his comment. (Melanie had really been putting in overtime lately; you made a mental note to send her a very nice flower arrangement and vouchers for a spa trip.)
The party was in full swing by the time you and Eddie arrived, fashionably late, and he had been folded into the throng of other musicians and partygoers against his will pretty much immediately- which you’d expected. The last hour, he’s been throwing you piteous looks from his spot across the room, where he hasn’t had the chance to move an inch with the amount of people keeping the conversation going. You’ve slipped to his side a few times, refreshing his drink, letting him curl an arm around your waist as you perch on his knee, only half-focused on whatever story some producer is saying as Eddie’s hand trails up your thigh. 
You’re back on the nearest wall again, sipping champagne, taking it all in. There are probably over a hundred people crammed into this banquet room, bass thumping through the floorboards, tables shoved to the outer corners making space for a makeshift dance space. 
The air is hazy with smoke from various cigarettes and joints; as the night has progressed, the smell of freshly-applied cologne has been replaced with heady sweat as the dance floor calls more people to writhe and grind in groups and partners. Eddie is still stuck in the lone pod of living room chairs, surrounded by a rapt audience of people crammed in to hear him better over the blaring music.
He looks damn good tonight, in a cut-off black tee and his favorite ripped jeans, leather jacket hung on the chair behind him. Silver catches the light from every angle- on the chains at his hips, around his neck, glinting off his rings as he gestures animatedly mid-story. He’d asked you to do his eyeliner at the hotel earlier, and although it’s smudged and blurred at the edges now he’s still pulling it off. Tiny silver stars, hand-drawn with your eyeshadow brush, twinkle across his cheeks like freckles.
Eddie wanted to match with you, whined until you added a belt made of gold-plated stars to your outfit. You went simple, the gold to his silver- belt cinching your short black satin slip dress, delicate brass rings and bracelets around your fingers and bare forearms. The one piece of silver you are wearing is a chain around your neck, Eddie’s guitar pick nestled snug between your breasts. 
You still resolutely refuse to wear heels, even after Eddie’s stylist cajoled you into practicing on stilettos for a disastrous media training session last month- tonight you’re in a chic pair of Mary Janes with the slightest suggestion of a heel. Compromise. 
There’s a big laugh from the crowd in the corner again as Eddie knocks a hand into Gareth’s chest for emphasis, nearly knocking the younger boy off his seat. You stare unabashedly at Eddie’s forearms, biceps on full display; he’s filled out a bit since leaving home, his usually lean frame boasting a bit more weight and bulk now that he’s got consistent access to well-rounded meals. 
He’s looking healthy, down right glowy. You’re thinking about that smattered trail of dark hair that slides down the crest of his stomach, now with extra padding enough to sink your teeth into. As if he knows, Eddie catches your eye from across the room and winks, cheekily. 
You shiver and unconsciously press your thighs together, hiding your grin with another swallow of champagne.
The alcohol turns a bit sour going down, though, as a crimped-haired blonde girl worms her way to Eddie’s side, laughing a little too loudly at the joke he just told. When she places a manicured hand on one of his shoulders, the thin stem of your glass nearly snaps in your grip.
The thing about rockstars is they have crazy sex appeal. The thing about your rockstar is he’s only interested in you, something that has been proved many times over.
So why is tonight hitting you so hard? Why do you feel nauseous the longer Eddie lets some random woman’s hand stay on his bare skin when you know he’s going home with you, and only you?
Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the overcrowded room, or the memories of Benny’s diner still lingering like a bruise in your mind. Hard to pinpoint exactly. All you know is that jealousy is gnawing like a thing raw and seeking in the pit of your stomach, and if you don’t get out of this stuffy room soon you’re gonna do something tabloid-worthy, like cry in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party.
By the grace of some god you make it across the dance floor and into a side bathroom unscathed, the pulsing sound of the party blissfully dimming as you shut the door behind you. Your mind whirls as you grip the gilded sink for stability, blinking hard at the tears beginning to form. 
You love having a boyfriend who’s larger than life. You love that he’s taking up space and getting to use that charm that was nurtured on the DM throne back in Hawkins. You’re so proud of him, you really are. 
You’re just starting to hate the way other people’s surface-level love of him makes you feel.
Because that’s what it is, right? Just surface-level, you reason with yourself- the level of intimacy that you and Eddie have is unmatched, something that the newly-formed masses of admirers won’t ever get to experience.
Christ, can jealousy give you hives? You grab a handful of paper towels and soak them in cold tap water, then press the damp bundle to your chest, breath stuttering.
You’ve never been the jealous type, or the overbearing type- it’s a new feeling, and maybe that’s why it feels so scary. The more you try to tamp it down, the more it rears its ugly head, making you, in turn, feel embarrassed for having such a strong reaction in the first place.
It’s a vicious cycle that’s only seeming to gain speed as you realize you haven’t yet managed a full breath since coming to your hiding spot. Your lungs are pinched and burning as you drop the soggy paper into the sink, leaning into the lip of the porcelain to steady yourself.
There’s a knock on the door, and you choke out “Just a minute”, not sure if the person on the other side can even hear you over the music when Eddie’s voice leaks through.
“Baby? That you in there?”
Against your better judgment, you open the door, and he crams in the small space, locking it again behind himself.
“There you are, I saw you leave and thought you were getting a drink or something but then you didn’t come back and- are you okay?”
He interrupts his own stream of consciousness when he notices the state you’re in. You give him a trembly smile, waving a hand dismissively.
“Yeah, all good. I’ll come back with you, just needed to pee.”
Eddie is not so easily thrown off the scent. He murmurs your name, sliding his hand into yours, looking at you with a wounded puppy gaze- fuck, you can’t have a breakdown. Not here, not on New Year’s in some knockoff-Playboy’s bathroom.
And certainly not in front of Eddie, who’s asking you to tell him what’s wrong, what happened, with an increasingly pleading tone that’s really, really not helping your whole Don’t Cry agenda. 
Hoping your voice doesn’t break, you clear your throat and pull your hand from his grasp. “Nothing happened, okay? I just had too much to drink, feeling overly sentimental or something. I’m okay.”
You think your white lie was convincing enough when Eddie reaches back for the door handle, that maybe he’ll rejoin the party and leave you to have a good cry, but after poking his head out the doorway briefly he grabs onto your wrist, tugging you to his side and hissing “Quick!”
And then you’re both making a break for it down the mostly-empty hallway, Eddie pulling you smoothly past a wall of expensive-looking oil paintings before going through a set of double doors that lead to the outside.
It’s December in Chicago, which means a light layer of snow covers the terraced garden that Eddie is leading you through, stopping at a stone bench flanked by two scraggly bushes. 
“Made it,” he huffs with exertion, dropping your hand to shrug his leather jacket off in favor of draping it around your own shoulders.
“You’re gonna be cold,” you sniffle, partly from the tears, partly from the crisp night air.
“Yeah,” he agrees easily, wrapping you in a hug. You press your forehead to his chest. “Got my girl to keep me warm, though.”
You stay like this for a few moments, his arms solid around you, breaths coming easier as the familiar smell of his tangy skin and that spicy bar soap he uses fills your senses.
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, gently, holding you at arm’s length to study your face.
When you shrug, unsure of where to start, he lets go of you and walks backwards, taking an unflinching seat on the snow-covered bench.
You gasp despite yourself, reaching to pull him up even as he twists out of your grasp- “Eddie, jesus, you’re literally gonna freeze your ass off. Get up!”
But he’s solid in his seat, widening his stance, boots planted on the ground- “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so you better start talking before my jeans freeze to the concrete.”
“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he’s giving you that look again, the one that cracks through the tough exterior every time, and you wrap your arms around yourself under the warmth of his jacket as you admit, “Okay, fine. It’s something. I’m just… having an overreaction.”
“To the shellfish?” he deadpans.
“No, asshole, to the blonde girl who was rubbing up on you earlier,” you snap.
Eddie blinks, genuine confusion in his voice- “There was a blonde girl… rubbing up on me?”
“She was petting your shoulder,” you continue, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground. “She was touching you, and I got- jealous, I guess.”
“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember her, at all,” Eddie emphasizes, spreading a palm flat against his chest in a gesture of sincerity, hair shifting across his shoulders as he cocks his head to the side.
His face is too familiar, too earnest for you to be able to say what you’re feeling without bursting into tears, so you turn on your heel, pacing a short loop in front of the bench, your breath hanging in misty clouds as you speak. 
“It’s not even about her, necessarily. It’s about me and my stupid emotions. I’m not usually like this- jealous, you know? Like, I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished, and I don’t mind sharing you, really I don’t, it’s just…”
You pause in your pacing, let your head drop back to look at the inky black sky pinpricked with stars, and your next words fall out like a confession.
“I just feel like I’m in mourning.”
You can feel his eyes on you still, as you loose the feeling that’s been caught tight in your chest. “It sounds so dramatic, when I say it like that. But I think that’s what it is. I miss when it was just the two of us, in this little bubble where no one knew our names and we just had each other.”
As the words leave your mouth, you scramble to explain, to soften the blow, hands tightening around your upper arms as you turn back to face the boy on the bench. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or, like, a total jealous bitch, because I really love you and I hope you know I’m not- are you laughing?”
Eddie tries his best to stifle the laughter into his fist when he sees how indignant you look. He rises from the bench, still a bit mirthful, pulling you back into his space. “Sorry, honey, I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”
You’re glaring at him now, and he ducks to kiss at the lines between your brow before pulling back and saying, “I think what you’re feeling is normal, and I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. Remember that asshole at the Smith Center party who kept trying to get your number right in front of me?”
“Vaguely.”
“I wanted to punch his lights out. Make a real scene, kiss you sloppy in front of some cameras.” Eddie cups your face in his hands, soothing his thumb against the wetness of your lashline. “What I’m saying is, I get jealous, too. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
“But…” there’s a well of emotions that you’re drawing from, and it’s not empty yet, one nagging thought still surfacing. “But these girls that are coming on to you, they’re like… really hot. I don’t look anything like them.”
Eddie frowns. “Are you seriously trying to make a case for yourself on the grounds of not being really hot? That’s not gonna hold up in court, gorgeous. I mean… have you even looked in a mirror recently?”
He lightly taps his knuckle against your head, trying to get you to crack a smile, but you’re not ready to give in yet. 
“You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?” you whisper, dropping your eyes from his consuming gaze to the wyvern inked on the inside of his arm. 
“Sweetheart…” Eddie sounds genuinely pained. The ink in his skin stretches as he slips a hand to the back of your neck, cold rings against your skin making you shiver. “I couldn’t ever get bored of you. Not in a million years. We've been through too much together for you to think like that, hm?”
He strokes his thumb down the column of your neck, those doey brown eyes on you again. “Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever be jealous, ‘cuz god knows it makes me hot under the collar when you are. But I’m sayin’ I never wanna make you feel like you need to earn me, okay?”
His thumb tracks back up to the hollow of your jaw, taps twice questioningly, and you nod, letting out a shaky, “Okay.”
When he kisses you, it feels like every other time- comfortable, grounding, familiar. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, and you let him lick into your mouth, gripping at his arms, flushing hot as you give it back to him in spades.
With a short groan, he pulls back, a wet click as your mouths separate- “As much as I wanna jump your bones in this wintry wonderland, I think the snow might’ve actually frozen my balls off.”
You giggle, spanning your hands around the meat of his waist, kissing up into his mouth again- “Poor baby. Want me to warm ‘em up in my mouth?”
He gives a solid smack to your ass for that, his palm smoothing over the stinging skin with condescension when you yelp- “All dish and no take, baby? Not exactly fair.”
____
Despite your weak protestations that you both should probably rejoin the party, at least until midnight, Eddie insists on taking you back to the hotel. 
“This party blows, anyways,” he says over his shoulder to you as he leads you back through the halls of the house. “If I hear one more Tears for Fears track I might throw myself into the river from one of the hundred balconies in this place.”
He manages to track down Melanie with some effort, winding his way through the throng of people to where she’d been chatting with a reporter, plucking at her elbow to get her away from the crowd and into the quieter hallway with you.  
“We gotta scoot, Mel,” he tells her, really hamming up the charm as the young publicist widens her eyes. “Think you can get us a ride outta here?”
“Mr. Munson, you can’t just leave,” Melanie insists, frazzled. “Someone from Rolling Stone has been waiting for the last hour to talk to you, if you could just-”
“No can do.” Eddie shakes his head, mock-apologetic. “There’s been an accident. Of a personal nature.”
You manage to choke down your laughter as Eddie turns around to show off the dark stains on the back of his jeans. They’re just wet from the snow that he sat in earlier, of course, but it looks convincing enough to make Melanie blanch and pinch the bridge of her nose.
“I’ll have a cab out front in ten for you both. Please keep a low profile until then.”
Eddie gives a sharp salute and you mouth an apology at her before she retreats to find a phone.
Okay, so maybe add a hefty bonus to that Nice Things for Melanie list of yours. 
____
One of the perks of having a rockstar for a boyfriend is the sweet digs- the label shelled out for Chicago’s finest penthouse suite; an entire luxurious upper floor with a private elevator, windows overlooking the far-below city lights, and a sunken bath big enough for two.
Also included? Soundproof walls.
A perk you’re very grateful for as Eddie walks you backwards into the room, sucking a mark with stinging teeth into your neck as you moan, then giggle breathily, admonishing- “Christ, Eddie, slow down. We have all night.”
Eddie pulls back just far enough to frown down at you, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to squeeze at your ass. His rings are cold against your bare flesh, and he grins when you shiver. “Uh huh. Sure do have all night. You gonna take advantage of that?”
He wiggles his eyebrows, cheekily, but that smirk drops from his face in record time the second you shove him to the bed. As his knees give out in favor of sitting on the mattress, you steady your hands against his broad shoulders to swing yourself into his lap.
Eddie’s looking up at you, cinnamon eyes darkened with lust- it makes your stomach flip something awful. Your skin feels alight with heat as Eddie’s hands drip like water down your sides, then to your parted thighs.
You sigh into his mouth as his fingers trace the front of your underwear, the silk sticky with your arousal.
“Oh, baby,” Eddie says, equal parts admonishment and pitying as you squirm into his touch. “What’s got you this worked up, hm?”
He’s asking like he doesn’t know- like he didn’t tease you with filthy whispers and wandering hands in the back of the car the whole way here. 
“Whaddya think,” you scoff, not quite ready to give in yet, enjoying the thrill of being cagey as Eddie hooks a finger to tuck your panties to the side.
He grins, simmering, enjoying the chase just as much as you. His middle finger swipes through your folds and you shudder in his arms, hands tightening into the meat of his shoulders as he brings the wetness up to your clit.
Eddie rubs quick, steady circles until you’re mewling, bucking hips grinding down to seek more friction. You can feel the wetness seeping out of your core, dampening his jeans as he licks back into your mouth, capturing the soft noises you’re making as he winds you up.
“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has anything to be jealous of.” Eddie noses at the spot under your jaw, and when you let your head fall back on a hinge to grant him access, he sucks another mark into the column of your throat. “‘M all yours, sweetheart. You gonna take what’s yours?”
Truth be told, your mind went fuzzy the second Eddie got his hands on your clit, the consistent build of pleasure sparking between your legs rather distracting. You’d almost forgotten how the night had started, but you let the jealousy and possessiveness creep back in as you push at Eddie’s chest.
He goes down easily, toeing his boots off and lying flat on the mattress; big hands settle on your waist as you rest your weight into him, warm cunt pressing against the bulge of his clothed cock.
At a light drag of your nails against his bare chest and across his nipple, Eddie groans low, squeezing your hips and rucking into you.
“You’re all mine, Eddie, right?” 
His pupils nearly eclipsing their soft brown irises, Eddie stares up at you like you hang the moon and stars every night just for him. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘M all yours. Lemme show you.”
Eddie pulls at the backs of your legs, helping you shuffle up his body until your knees are dipping into the mattress at either side of his head. Your core hovers just above Eddie’s mouth- you can feel his breath speed up on the inside of your thigh at this new position. 
“Oh, fuck, Eddie- jesus… christ,” the last word ending in a moan as Eddie’s tongue licks a wet stripe through your folds. 
He pulls you closer with an arm over each thigh until you’re sitting on his face, his nose hitting your clit with each tilt of his head. You’ve got no idea how he’s able to breathe down there but you’re hardly able to hold onto that thought when his tongue has started plunging in and out of you.
Automatically, your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself- one hand goes to the headboard and the other ends up in his hair, gripping the roots hard. Eddie groans, sending vibrations that make your cunt clench around his lithe tongue.
“Like the taste of my pussy, baby?” you coo down at him, regaining some of your breath to give him attitude. 
Reaching a hand back to palm at his cock, you say “No one else can have you like this, hm?”
Eddie catches your eyes as he mouths wetly at your clit, then sucks it into his mouth. Your thighs shake around his ears, your orgasm unfurling in clenching ripples.
“Oh, yeah, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming- just like that, fuck fuck fuck…”
He doesn’t stop suckling at you until you’re gushing around his mouth, then pulling him off by his hair to make him stop.
Eddie heaves in a breath, kissing at the inside of your thigh, his lips and chin shiny with your release. “God, baby. Such pretty noises for me.”
“Mhm.” You shuffle down until your hips are aligned over his, then lean in to lick his mouth clean. “Gonna make some pretty ones for me, now?”
After helping pull his shirt off, Eddie whines softly as you press kisses down his bare chest, and by the time your mouth is pressing over that dark trail of hair that leads into his denim, Eddie’s begging.
“Please, angel, please- need your mouth. Do anything for it, baby, please…”
You rub your cheek against his bulge before pulling back to pop the button on his jeans, then help him shift them down and off his body. Once his black briefs join the growing pile of floor clothes, Eddie’s completely bare and at your mercy.
He gets on his elbows to watch as you mouth at the inside of his thigh, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, chest heaving when you ignore his leaking cock in favor of grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot. “Fuckin’- christ, sweetheart. Come on. Please?”
“Sound pretty when you beg,” you say, mildly, kissing across his heavy sack, hiding a smile when the contact makes him jolt. “Gonna do it some more?”
You keep eye contact as you take one of his balls into your mouth, watching his own eyes roll back so far you can see the whites of them as you use your tongue on him. 
“-yeah, baby, yeah- just like that- fucking, fuck, you’re killin’ me…”
Eddie sounds wrecked already, and a hot flush of pride courses through your body at the knowledge that he could come from just this and it’d be you getting him there. 
You mouth over to the other side of his sack, rolling the skin wiry with coarse hair against your tongue as Eddie moans above you. When your hand wraps around the base of his cock, starting to move in tandem with the pull of your mouth, Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched.
A line of drool breaks and hits wet against your chin as you straighten up, settling yourself into the V of his legs and using his thighs as handholds while you begin to kiss up the line of his leaking cock.
He’s got a gorgeous dick, truly. Thick and long, curving slightly to the right, a pretty blue vein snaking up the underside that you lathe your tongue against, seeking out the salty brine at the ruddy head.
Eddie moans, brokenly, white-knuckled hands twisting into the sheets. When your mouth closes around the tip, his elbows give out, leaving him flat against the mattress as you work his length further in.
“Oh my god. Oh, fuck, baby. Please don’t stop. Please. Y’feel so good…”
You hum around the stretch of him in your mouth, relaxing your throat to draw him in a bit more. The spiky jealousy from earlier really is your biggest motivator here; covetous, you’re thinking back to all those first times with Eddie- trembling hands under your bedsheets back in Hawkins, stilted voices and giggles to cover up the awkwardness of trying to learn the other person’s body.
No one will ever know him like you do. No one will ever have all that shared history, those fumbling nights that slowly turned to lovesick days; memories of him on his knees for you, learning all the little things that make you tick, memorizing the song of your body.
The boy is all yours. 
Your throat automatically constricts at the intrusion of Eddie’s cock slipping past your soft palate- his hips cant up, which you can hardly fault him for, patient as he’s been with your retrospective and teasing.
Before he can apologize you’re sitting up, wiping at the excess drool with the back of your hand and shucking your dress over your head, letting it and your belt fall to the floor with a soft clunk.
Eddie reaches for you again as you slide your panties down and off, and you let him help you up his body, your knees coming to rest alongside the lightly raised scar tissue at his sides. You stroke a hand down his chest, giving in to a moment of softness before seating yourself fully in Eddie’s lap.
His hands snap to your hips, a near-brutal squeeze as you sink onto his cock. The stretch is always an adjustment, but you’re so wet right now that he slides in easily, a breathy moan from the both of you as the walls of your cunt fit snug around his sizeable length.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” The crown of Eddie’s head is pressed back into the bed, veins in his taut neck on full display as your hips start to swivel, blunt nails scraping into the soft flesh of your waist. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck me.”
With your knees planted on either side of his body, you begin to bounce in steady, rhythmic earnest, going for gold, the desire to bring your boy to the babbling edge overtaking every other thought.
“Feel so good, Eds, so big… can barely fit…” There’s a wet squelch accompanying each bounce now, slick dripping down to the base of his cock, your vice of a cunt flexing with every movement.
“S’all you, baby,” Eddie rasps out, toes curling in the efforts to keep his orgasm at bay for awhile longer. “Got a perfect pussy. Takin’ me so well.”
He’s almost in delirium territory, with you chasing after that bright unwinding pleasure at both of your cores; your hips stutter, hands flat on Eddie’s chest to center yourself, a hunger that you can’t seem to satiate gnawing at the edges.
Eddie notices immediately, feels the falter in your motion and brings his hands to your forearms, rubbing a path up them soothingly- “What’s wrong, angel, hm?”
You’re not sure how to put it into words, wishing (not for the first time) that you could just rest your forehead against his and transmit all the complexities of your emotions through touch alone. 
Instead, you sigh out the name that you use when you’re done with taking, a name that lights Eddie up from head to toe as you say it- “Teddy.”
In one swift movement, Eddie slips an arm behind your back and flips you to the mattress, his hair a curtain around both your faces as he leans in to whisper against your mouth- “Teddy’s got you. Arms around me.”
You’re quick to obey, looping your arms around Eddie’s wide shoulders. He slides one hand up the back of your leg, pushing a knee up until it’s at your chest, mouth dropping open briefly when the new angle allows the head of his cock to kiss against that gummy upper wall of your cunt.
“Bored of you,” he huffs, recalling your words from earlier with disdain. “You’re talkin’ to the guy who memorized the first six chapters of The Hobbit just to recite for your bedtime.”
A quick thrust of his pelvis into yours has your stomach clenching in anticipation, brows on a tilt and knitting together as Eddie grins down at you. “Got a wicked attention span, baby. Lemme show you.”
He starts slow, agonizingly so, every inch of his thick cock dragging in and out, wetness pooling down your ass and probably the sheets, too; errant thoughts of housekeeping are rapidly erased as Eddie begins snapping his hips into yours in faster tempo.
He’s working to find that spot, the one that turns your brain to mush and is guaranteed to cause full-body muscle fatigue from the force of your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pushing into Eddie’s chest, one arm still supporting your lower back as he laughs hoarsely, half-amazement and half-pride.
“That’s the spot, huh, sweetheart? Atta girl. M’all yours. Take it. Good girl…”
With each thrust, the wiry patch of hair dusted across Eddie’s pubic bone grinds slick and filthy against your clit. You’re so close to the edge now, a wave of pleasure cresting as you look up at Eddie.
There are two thin tracks of black makeup trailing down his face from where tears have made a mess of his eyeliner; rosy spots of flushed color in his cheeks, eyes like twin pools of chocolate, locked with yours as he rocks into you. 
He’s learned the song of your body so well, knows every chord to strike- his hand leaves your leg to grasp at your breast, calloused palm against pebbled nipple sending more shockwaves through your body, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you sing for him.
“All yours,” you gasp out, and it feels like victory when his hips stutter and the cresting wave crashes around you both at the same time.
The pleasure roils through your gut, clit throbbing and cunt spasming around Eddie’s cock as he spills into you. 
A wrecked, broken string of moans leaves you as you ride out the highs together. Eddie presses his forehead to your collarbone as he chants your name, twitching out the last of his spend, warmth blooming inside. 
The quiet that follows is filled with shaking breaths, soft kisses, murmurs of “good job, sweetheart” as you both float back down to earth.
Eddie stays in you for longer than usual, his draped weight a grounding comfort as you trail gentle fingertips up and down his skin, lovingly against the scars that interrupt the smooth flesh of his back. Through the closed windows, you can hear the distant sounds of car horns and the deep boom of fireworks. 
Sometime in the last foggy hour of lovemaking, 1987 has given way to a new year. 
Eddie pulls his heavy head up from your chest to press kisses to your collarbone. “Happy new year, lover.”
You tuck his hair behind his ears, hands squishing lightly at his cheeks to bring his face close enough for a kiss. “Happy new year to you. Hell of a way to kick it off.”
Eventually, Eddie extricates himself from the intoxicating heat of your body (with minimal whining) and brings a warm washcloth to tenderly wipe away the mess between your thighs. Once you’re both cleaned up, he stretches out against the sheets, pulling the covers up as you hook a leg around his waist and snuggle in. 
“So I was thinking,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna take a trip back to Hawkins. Before the tour.”
Your hand stills in its rhythmic circles against Eddie’s chest; heart in your throat, you tilt your chin up so you can gauge Eddie’s reaction. “...yeah?”
“Yeah.” Eddie picks up your hand on his chest, twining his fingers with your as his other hand settles on your bare hip beneath the sheets. “Could visit Wayne for a few days, fool around in that twin bed like we’re teens again.”
He grins at your giggle, taps playfully at your hip- “Gonna parade you around all our old haunts. You’ve gotten even hotter since we left, babe. Gotta really rub it in the faces of those Hawkins Tigers burnouts whose best dates are their own left hands.”
You snort, and Eddie looks pleased again, but then sobers a bit before saying- “I mean, I’ve got my piece of home with me. But I think it could be good, to visit. Just the two of us.”
You’re quiet for a moment, a longing for home that you’ve managed to ignore these past few years resurfacing. “Can we get high and go to that diner? I mean, Nell’s isn’t as good as Benny’s was, but I’ve been craving a Hawkins milkshake.”
“Christ.” Eddie hides his smile in the crook of your neck, dimples springing to life. “You could ask for the Mona Lisa and I’d find a way to get it to you. Fries and a milkshake, that all I need to keep my girl happy?”
“Yeah,” you reply, a contented noise as Eddie settles against your chest again. “That’s all I need.”
___
thank u thank u for reading if you made it this far have a little kiss from me to you <3 xx lulu
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cosmicpearlz · 4 months ago
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hopelessly devoted
summary: the four times you and joão spill about your relationship and the one time you guys finally hard launch it.
pairing: joão félix x actress!reader
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-one-
"hello gq! my name is y/n and i'm here to answer your burning questions," you said as you wiggled your eyebrows in a teasing manor.
"what was it like filming with jenna oretega?"
"it was absolutely amazing. jenna is like my sweet little angel. for those that don't know, me and jenna play adopted siblings for this movie called all for love. you should go check it out or whatever," you shrugged your shoulders, throwing the card behind you.
"who makes you laugh the most?"
you looked down at your feet, sporting a huge smile. "my boyfriend," you picked your head up towards the camera and giggled.
"boyfriend? are you saying that you're not single?" one of the producers behind the camera said.
"yeah, ya girl is off the market."
"can you tell us more?"
"well all i can say is he's a well known athlete. we've been together for almost a year now and i'm very happy."
"will you ever go public?"
"maybe or maybe not. who knows," you throw another wink to the camera, causing everyone in the room to laugh.
-two-
with you being out the country for a new movie, you couldn't attend joão's game. you were left feeling bummed that you couldn't be there to support him in person. it didn't stop you from watching the game in your hotel room, texting him throughout it. he wouldn't be able to see all the texts until after the game but it never mattered to you. you practically jumped off the bed, watching your boyfriend score the winning goal. sending a quick text, stating how proud you were and how much you loved him. you kept the channel on, waiting for his interview.
"joão, you had a really goal. you must've been delighted with that finish."
"yeah, i think it was a good goal. uh, well played since the beginning, since the net. and then with the neto pass. it was kind of easy from that spot," joão gave the interviewer a small smile.
"and who will you be celebrating this win with?"
"celebrating with my girlfriend over facetime. she wasn't able to make it here today but i know she's been texting me updates while she was watching. i look forward to calling her and seeing what she's been saying," his smile grows more being able to talk about the love of his life.
"congratulations again and thank you for your time."
"thank you," joão shakes the interviewer's hand before walking towards the locker rooms.
it didn't take long for joão to get home. he was quick to drop his stuff off at the door and greet floki. picking up the small dog, he heads to the couch to call you.
"babyyyy! ah, i'm so so so proud of you," you screamed into the phone speakers upon answering the facetime call.
"meu amado (my beloved), thank you for watching."
"i'm always watching. you literally couldn't get me not to watch your matches. now, where's my son?" joão chuckles, flipping the camera down to floki, who rested comfortably in his lap.
"starting to thing you love him more than me."
"i could never."
"well maybe just a little bit. but to be fair, i love you both equally."
"we love you too babe."
-three-
another day, another interview. you were so glad that you got to do this one at home. you set your computer up in the kitchen and only worried about putting on a fancy top. from the waist down, you were wearing joão's basketball shorts and a pair of his socks. his closet was pretty much your closet too.
"in a recent interview with gq, you mentioned that you had a boyfriend," you nodded with a smile. "what song reminds you of the relationship you guys have?"
"um it'd have to be 'so american' by olivia rodrigo."
"he isn't american?"
"no, he's actually portuguese. unfortunately, he doesn't laugh at all my jokes because he thinks i'm corny sometimes but i'm very much in love," you replied, locking eyes with joão while he quietly tiptoes through the kitchen. he blows you an air kiss, making you wink at him.
"was that him? is he with you now?" you cover your mouth to hide your smile and incoming laugh.
"yes, i'm home and he's here too. i believe he just came in from training. it's nice being able to come home to someone."
-four-
"i'm joão félix and here's ten things that i can't live without."
for the next thirty minutes, he explains the stuff he brought in. from his training gear and cleats to his dog to his phone and even his favorite cologne. the last item, wasn't an item but a person.
"she's not here right now but meu amado is the last thing i can't live without. i feel like she constantly grounds me when i need a pick me up. it's been nice having someone to come home to. i also love that we're able to support each other throughout our busy lives," he smiles off to a distance, recalling moments from your relationship.
"nah nah, bro just wants to talk about her all day," his teammate noni rushes into the frame.
"get out, this is my video!" joão says, while laughing behind the words.
"you guys don't understand. i genuinely don't think he can function properly without her. you should see them when we have away matches, just on the phone the entire ride."
"i can't help that she's the love of my life. now, shoo."
-the hard launch-
you were buzzing with nerves while getting dressed for the film festival. you knew all eyes were going to be on you because of the movie that you were in. you also knew, with joão by your side, you could do anything. you were finishing getting ready, when a knock on the door sounded through the room
"come in," you yelled out, thinking it was either your boyfriend or someone from your team. the door opens and closes, footsteps getting closer, you're met with your boyfriend. joão whistles, eyes traveling you from head to toe.
"my god, you are a beauty."
"oh stop it," you close the distance between the two of you and kiss his cheek. he lays his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to his body.
"i'm serious bebê, you are gorgeous. i cant wait to shout it to the sky that we're dating."
"i'm excited too. i can't wait for people to know that my boyfriend is one of the best footballers ever."
"now you're just saying that."
"no, i believe it. there's a difference love."
"y/n, it's time to go!" your manger yells through the closed door.
"you ready babe?"
"always. after you my love," joão says, letting you take the lead.
getting closer to the carpet, your nerves were back. it was as if he could sense it because you felt a squeeze on your hand. you looked up from your lap, locking eyes with your boyfriend.
"no need to be nervous, i'm right here," joão whispers to you, while gliding his thumb across your hand. "are you feeling doubts about us going public?" as much as he didn't want to admit, he would be hurt if you said yes. joão had been waiting to go public for some time now but he knew if you had doubts, he would respect your wishes. your eyes widen upon hearing his question.
"no! babe, i don't doubt a thing when it comes to you. i'm just nervous because it's my first time being here. i don't want to disappoint anyone."
"you won't. you're going to do amazing," he leans over to press a kiss to your lips. leaving a couple pecks and then leaning upwards to kiss your forehead.
when the car comes to a stop, joão is the first to get out. coming around the other side to open the door for you. the screams were already loud when he step out of the car but it doubled as he helped you out. joão fixes the train of your dress before you guys walked hand and hand down the carpet.
"so he was the boyfriend, huh?"
"yes, he's my talented and wonderful boyfriend," you giggled, meeting his gaze. joão shakes his head and joins in on your laughter.
"we're here for her not me. I'm so proud of her and her hard work."
"I'm surprised fans didn't pick up that the two of you were talking about each other the whole time. it really does make sense now," the interviewer let out a chuckle of realization.
"you know, now that you say it, i'm surprised too. our answers were almost always the same," you looked up at him, finding he was already looking at you.
"i don't care, i can finally kiss her in public. i'm dating y/n y/l/n!" joão grins during his mini speech. your smile grows and you pull your joined hands closer to your heart.
"and i'm dating joão félix!"
"talk about hard launch of the century. congratulations on the movie y/n and i wish you nothing but the best."
"thank you for your kind words. it truly means a lot and my best is standing right next to me," you replied to the interviewer. joão's smile grows even bigger and he places a delicate kiss to the top of your head.
"she's my best as well. if anyone cared to know!"
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it-happened-one-fic · 4 months ago
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Gentle Care - Jade
Author Notes: So, this is another fanfic that has been sitting, collecting dust in my Google Docs for quite some time now. It is finally getting to see the light of day because I wanted to post a Jade fic (totally not because of any cards that recently came out on the Japanese server). I didn't really listen to anything specific while writing this, so I really can't say there is any specific inspiration for this fic either. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!
Type: Gender neutral reader/ sfw/ flirtation/ romance implied/ fluff
Word Count: 1393
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When Azul had called to ask for your assistance in patching someone up, you hadn’t been surprised. 
First, you’d gotten very good at handling bandages and whatnot simply due to your numerous Overblot experiences. You always ended up with a myriad of bumps and scrapes after those.
Secondly, Floyd getting into a fight was hardly uncommon, so the idea of him being a little scraped up was hardly startling. 
Finally, Floyd was perpetually mercurial, and if he’d even implied that he’d sit still and let you bandage him without squirming around, then Azul would do what it took to get you to Octavinelle just to ensure Floyd didn’t cause him any more of a headache.
An added bonus was that Octavinelle had all the supplies you could ever dream of, so there wasn’t even any need for you to bring anything with you. In fact, Grim even stayed at Ramshackle, opting not to join you on your little jaunt to Octavinelle. Though he did make sure to put in a request that you bring home some food for him that had you rolling your eyes slightly as you slipped out the door.
Your only real concerns on the trip to the mirror chamber were whether or not the other person had survived the altercation and how exactly you were going to scold the injured eel, even though you knew perfectly well that your words would do little good to keep him from getting into yet another fight. 
Those thoughts vanished though when you stepped into the Mostro Lounge and found yourself greeted with an unexpected sight.
Jade, sitting there as calmly as ever despite the bruises and red scratch marks that were sprinkled across his person as he talked to his brother, who was currently crouched in front of him, “Yes, it seems they mistook me for you, Floyd. Handling them was an easy matter, but-”
Jade halted mid-sentence as he spotted you, his eyes widening briefly before his usual, carefully crafted smile appeared, “I wasn’t expecting you quite yet, Y/n. I do hope you didn't rush.”
It was those oh-so polite words that immediately sparked your ire, sending you striding forward and snatching the bandages off a nearby table as you did so. After all, that long red scratch on his arm looked particularly nasty.
“Do I want to know?” Your irritation was obvious to everyone present, but no one seemed terribly concerned. But, to be fair, you were already kneeling and inspecting the young man’s injuries.
Azul let out a sigh, stepping into the room and holding a stack of papers, “It seems that a group of juniors looking for a fight mistook Jade for Floyd.”
“It’s alright though, Shrimpy. Jade handled ‘em all perfectly well.” Despite Floyd’s reassurance, you were hardly pleased. Eying the tell-tale burn that affirmed that magic had indeed been used in the fight despite school rules.
You glanced up, immediately making eye contact with the injured young man who’d been sitting silently, with a slight smile on his face as he’d watched you this entire time. Almost as if he were gauging the situation before he said anything.
“So you got in a fight you could’ve avoided?” Your flat tone said everything, and Azul took it as a cue to leave. With a single motion, he signaled Floyd, and the two exited the space. Floyd linger long enough to cast a single glance that flickered between you and his brother over his shoulder before he disappeared into the kitchen.
Jade met your accusation with an easy calmness and no small degree of amusement, “I wouldn’t be so sure. That group seemed to have quite a bit of aggression towards my dorm and probably didn’t really care if it was me or Floyd.”
You remained silent as he continued, going about bandaging some of the worse scratches while he calmly spread burn cream on his arm, “And even if I had made them aware of my identity and they’d left, it would’ve simply meant my dear brother would be in my current position, and I couldn’t let that happen.”
You pressed a band-aid down with a bit more pressure than strictly necessary as your eyes found his, “Don’t play coy with me, Jade. You wanted to get in that fight.”
You had to curb your urge to roll your eyes at the innocent expression he gave you before you continued, “You’re far too smug to have not gotten your way.”
With those words, you stood, grabbing another band-aid and turning your attention to the scratch marks that were scattered across his face, “So who were they?”
He smiled, his sharp teeth flashing as he did so, “Three of them were beastmen. I personally thought the Diasomna fellow was stronger, though. But don’t worry, all of them are in far worse shape than me.”
You snorted in response to his all too smug response, your amused tone not matching your chiding words, “Don’t gloat.”
Despite yourself, you were smiling even as Jade spoke again, his tone getting gradually more amused, “It works for Floyd.”
Your gaze flickered over to his, your hands carefully placing the band-aid on his cheek as you frowned at him, “No, it doesn’t, and it won’t for you either. I treat you two the same way.”
You gently smoothed the too-tan fabric across his pale cheek, and he chuckled, “Surely you know better than to lie to me, my dear.”
Your movements stilled as his hand reached up and wrapped around one of yours, his gaze holding yours captive as he smiled like he’d won some sort of game, “You and I both know you treat me far differently than how you treat my brother.”
You tugged at your hand gently, and Jade let it go with ease even as his fingers carefully brushed the skin on his cheek where your hand had just been with a distinctly pleased expression, “Your gentle care for me proves it.”
You crossed your arms, shaking your head slightly as you frowned down at him, “Don’t tease. I might be helping you right now, but I will leave.”
He tilted his head, his expression shifting to a feigned mask of betrayed hurt, “And abandon me to the care of Azul and Floyd? You wouldn’t be so cruel.”
You rolled your eyes slightly at his dramatics but reached over and grabbed another band-aid, “I might. You never know when I’ll surprise you.”
A smile curved across his face as his gaze stayed locked on you even as you focused on one of the other scratches on his otherwise pristine skin, “Indeed, I never do….”
You hummed slightly as he trailed off, “Right, so you’d best watch it and not get hurt like this again. I might not take care of you next time.”
“Wouldn’t that mean playing favorites since you’ve kept on helping every time Floyd gets himself hurt?” He didn’t miss a beat, and you frowned at him, causing him to chuckle, “I won’t make any promises. I rather enjoy getting taken care of, you know.” 
You tapped him lightly on the shoulder in a faux slap, “Alright, that’s enough out of you.” You paused, turning to look over your shoulder as you called out to Azul and Floyd that you were done.
Jade tilted his head as you looked back his way, his smile still present as he looked up at you where you stood between his spraddled out legs from his seated position, “Leaving so soon? Floyd made dinner.”
You snorted lightly, shaking your head at his coaxing tone even as Floyd stepped out of the kitchen, “You staying for dinner, Shrimpy?”
You held Jade’s gaze as you felt a smile spread across your face, and, despite yourself, there was very little hesitation as you called back, “Sure! Sounds good!”
And once again, Jade’s smile was all too smug, but at this point that was nothing new. Especially since you knew perfectly well that if he, or Azul, or Floyd, got hurt again, you’d be back to take care of them once again, even though all of you knew it was hardly necessary.
And that was even taking into account that you did play favorites. But you weren’t about to admit that to Jade, and, judging from the smile on his face, he already knew anyway.
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katsukistofu · 5 months ago
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we are made of stardust
contents ౨ৎ ⋆ i. midoriya x fem reader. 0.8k words — childhood friends to lovers. fluff. astronomy references.
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It's hard for someone to pinpoint their earliest memories. Maybe it was the moment they blew their candles out on their first birthday, or when they scraped their knee while learning to ride a bike.
For you, it’s the smell of lavender fabric softener.
You think your earliest memory is of the sight of his freckled cheeks, with nothing but the green light of the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling illuminating them.
Of sleepovers, reading the most recent copies of your favorite manga that you picked out from the library together under the blanket, holding the coolest pages up for the other to see, and hurriedly tucking the books under his pillows when Inko came in to check if you two were sleeping.
You remember his giggles as he tugs at the blanket to cover the both of you, big deep forest eyes dancing with glee. ‘To protect you from monsters,’ he whispers, only five years old, yet saying it with the unwavering confidence of All Might in those videos he loved to play to death on TV over and over again.
Inko chuckles, noticing you two once again rewinding the video for the third time, entranced by all might as he saves cats from a tree while rescuing civilians from an explosive villain, “faster than the speed of sound!” the title reads, while placing a plate of sliced fruit on the coffee table. He was starting to grow out of his favorite All Might onesie now.
Would he ever outgrow you?
Just as the moon orbits the sun, you can’t remember a time when you weren’t stuck to his side.
You’re the one holding his hands in the pool when he ditches his floaties for the first time, slowly guiding him as he kicks and kicks, holding him tight and not letting him sink.
You’re the one jumping and stomping on his bullies' sandcastles at the beach, when they try to ruin his first.
Accidentally, you’re the first one he tells when he passes the entrance exam for UA. He was calling his mother on the phone when you overheard him saying not to tell you yet, because he wanted to surprise you in person. His mother and you prepare a cute little party for him before he gets home, and upon opening the door to the apartment he’s greeted with a rain of confetti and a table full of his favorite dishes.
Streamers fall around him, and his eyes light up like shooting stars as he hugs his mother and you in his arms. ‘Proud of you, crybaby,’ is what you fondly whisper in his ear and between tears he gives a choked up little laugh.
Just as the earth needs rain, he waters your gardens and tends to your flowers.
He frowns when you frown, cries when you cry. It’s been over a decade but you’ll never forget the big fat tears that ran down his face when you jumped off the swings a little too early and fell on your face. The fourth grade teachers thought he was the one that got hurt.
When he places a bandaid on your knee with a worried pout on his lips, he lends you his light, and you shine it back.
Only five years old and in your mind, he was already a hero.
“What are you thinking about?”
Your eyes flutter open at the sound of Izuku’s soft voice. His firm thighs support your head from underneath and you wonder if he’s been working out even more than usual. He grins at your dazed face.
“Were you sleeping on me?” He teases. “For free?”
You roll your eyes as a yawn hits you, stretching in his lap. “Sorry I actually forgot to bring my card with me for this nap, sir.”
“My services aren’t cheap, you know.” He fakes a huff like he’s being scammed big time, and you have to laugh. He was so cute when he was dramatic. “I guess I can start a tab for you.”
“Aw, thanks.” You deadpan, and he snorts in response.
Taking his hand in yours, you trace the scars along his skin, addicted to the feeling of where rough scars meet his soft, baby skin.
He can’t help but blush.
He still gets it, this look in his eyes, like when he makes an observation he’s never realized before amongst his mutterings. Whenever he sees All Might merch on display in store windows, despite already owning most of it already.
But even more so, when he looks at you.
His gaze softens as he admires you in his lap, the slope of your nose and the shape of your mouth that his lips must have traced over hundreds of times by now. When he received that fateful golden strand of hair months ago, and after his mother the first person he thought of protecting was you. Though he knows you’re more than capable of doing it yourself, he wants to. He wonders if you realize it, the reason he saves. If not, he’s willing to remind you, over and over again until it’s woven into the beautiful constellation of your brain.
You’re the one that’s always been his hero.
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eetherealgoddess · 10 months ago
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Hey, I just had a really good idea for u to write. A yandere bonten and a singer/ famous reader. I really love your writing style, and I get sooo excited when I see u post something 🫶🤭
Thank youu!! I get excited for good requests :)
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ꨄMelodic Ruinꨄ
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Oneshot - Yandere Bonten/Famous Singer Au
❦You’re an artist who caught Bonten’s attention❦
Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
(Mostly Mikey but you’ll see what I mean)
❣︎I know in real life the manager doesn’t “own” the singer, but in this story, the reader will have signed all of their artistic rights to the manager so that the plot will make sense❣︎
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Not fully proofread
Japanese language is red
MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Melodic Ruin
Claps could be heard echoing throughout the concert hall as you stood on the surface with a sweet smile, thanking the audience before walking off the stage, the lights shutting off behind you as the crowd began to make their leave. The long dress you wore hugging your figure as the train of the fabric followed behind. You had just completed the last performance for your concert, your hands rubbing along your sides as you released a breath of relief. Of course you don’t get as much anxiety as you did when you first started singing in front of thousands of people, you just really cared about your craft. A perfectionist you could say. This particular performance was important as well considering the extra onlookers your manager warned you about, you having noticed a few of the “important” people in the VIP seats when you were on the stage.
You are ranked as a famous singer in your country, not having been worldwide just yet besides the few videos of you singing at home or in the studio that went viral, as well as your first album that was released recently. You’re a new industry baby, but you’re still trying to keep your own personality in your work without getting controlled by any record deal which is why you’re an independent artist. You take pride in your art, creative by heart and ambitious by nature. It took you quite a few years of releasing singles and singing social media videos to finally get noticed for your talent. You’re proud of yourself which is something that doesn’t happen often enough. You’re not exactly at the top yet but you’re not mad with where you’re at.
“Good job, Y/n! You’ve caught quite the attention!” Your manager greets you just as you made it backstage, offering you the business card in her hand. You look down and take the paper on your own, eyeing the print. Your eyes widened.
“I got invited to perform in JAPAN?!” You exclaim. Never have you ever gotten an opportunity to go out of the country, only touring around local concerts although still popular by demand.
“A private, high classed lounge owned by club owners Haitani Ran and Haitani Rin! Isn’t this great news?” She beams as she holds her hands up. You look at her with your eyes glistening, a wide smile on your face as you feel so grateful for the opportunity. And to be personally invited to perform at this specific lounge is a huge deal for you. You’ll have more of a chance at getting acquainted with bigger connections. It’s intimidating, yet you couldn’t help the excitement that your hard work is finally paying off even bigger than it has.
“We’re leaving first thing tomorrow so get your bags packed because it’s gonna be a long trip!” Your manager says before giving your arms a tight squeeze. “You deserve this, Y/n. Bask in it now because before you know it, you’ll be attracting even bigger opportunities.” She walks off, leaving you with the business card as you read the print once more.
You immediately change before packing your bags when you make it home, excitement making it hard to fall asleep although eager for the next day to come. It was early in the morning when you and your manager met at the airport holding your private jet. Checking your consistent notifications as well as scrolling through social media. Sitting on the plane was full of thought while you listened to the music blasting from your headphones, thinking about the venue you’d be performing at. How intimate it’ll be to sing amongst all of those people who will be judging you, observing your creativity to see if it’s worth the profit.
An empty estate was offered to you and your manager, coming upon a penthouse once your driver dropped you off. Your manager basked in the luxury as she unpacked, talking your ear off as if she’s more excited than you. You chuckle at the thought before heading to your own bedroom to unpack, an eyebrow raising at the name tagged on the door. When you opened the door, you were met with a modernized luxury bedroom. The body sized window gives you a beautiful view of the city from above. You stood there a moment before turning around to get your outfit ready for the night, already having notified your manager to not call the stylist since you already had an idea of what you were going to wear.
When evening finally struck you had just climbed into the vehicle, your driver helping you in before shutting the door behind you, along with your two security guards who traveled with you. Your manager sat in the passenger seat, the black suv moving along as you eye through the tinted window. Your nerves are struck, having never performed in a country other than your own. Especially with the presence of numerous important individuals, you couldn’t afford to make any rookie mistakes.
When you arrived, you were helped out of the car, different locals being held back by guards already posted for the lounge, keeping the crowd behind the ropes as you walked along the red carpet. You waved and smiled as people screamed your name and song lyrics, cameras flashing as well as paparazzi ready for the next best shot. Finally making it inside, you were greeted with a beautiful melody, red covering the walls with a marble floor. Gold decor plastered along as well as the large chandelier hanging from the middle of the room.
A red rug sat in the middle of the floor along with cushioned chairs and glass tables, a bar across from the stage as well as many people conversing with champagne and other alcoholic beverages. A woman holds a microphone on the stage, entertaining the audience with beautiful harmony. Everyone wears all black formal attire, causing you to look down at your shimmery, golden gown with a grimace. You turn to your manager as you both walk down the hall in the opposite direction, heading for the dressing room.
“I thought I was supposed to wear gold.” You say softly. She smirks.
“You are. Don’t forget, Y/n. This is your special night.”
My special night, right.
You take a deep breath before one of your security guards opens the dressing room.
Your eyes perk at the man standing inside. He turns his head back before walking towards you with a smile. You eye his purple orbs before examining the suit accenting his broad figure. His neck tattoo displays a symbol you’ve never seen before, though it fit him well. Fingers run through his short, dyed hair as he gets closer.
“Welcome, Y/n. Haitani, Ran.” He states, holding a hand out. You smile politely, ignoring your anxiety as you shake his hand. You couldn’t help but notice how soft his skin felt against yours.
“Hello, Mr. Haitani. Thank you so much for this opportunity.” You beam, subconsciously rubbing your palms against the fabric of your dress, refraining from picking at the dress.
“Please, call me Ran. The pleasure is all mine. We are grateful to have you here.” He says, before connecting his lips with the back of your hand, gaze still holding yours. You felt your face warm, having never been handled so gently by a man considering the type of males that live in your hometown. Your manager walks up, both of them greeting each other, though her body is slightly tense when she gives him a tight smile. You fail to notice the display of tension, too focused on the tingling sensation lingering from the contact with your hand.
“I see that gold fits you very well. Best choice I’ve ever made.” He chuckled. So he recommended it to your manager?
That brings you comfort knowing you hadn’t made a mistake, after all it never felt good to be the odd one out because of misinformation.
“Indeed it is. Y/n, let’s get you ready to perform!” Your manager eased her arm around your shoulder before pulling you off, Ran waving bye as he exited the room while you shifted your gaze at her with confusion.
“What was that about?” You question her as she fixes her own makeup in the mirror.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The way you just interr…”
“Y/n.” She breathes out. “Let’s focus on your music, yeah?” She says as she touches up your face. You nod your head right before an employee comes in to queue you. You exhale before heading down the hall behind the stage.
“Please give a warm welcome to Ms. Y/n!”
Straightening your back, you stepped onto the stage, revealing yourself to the audience who claps and cheers, giving you the welcome you deserve. You gaze at the beautiful view of the crowd, noticing a familiar suit sitting with eight other interesting looking men. You greet the crowd right before the music begins, beginning your performance as everyone quiets down, along with the light over the audience dimming.
During your performance, you allow yourself to get lost in the music. Closing your eyes as your hand moves along, flowing with the melody as your beautiful voice harmonizes well with the piano. Your head tilts as you release a stronger note that comes from the base of your voice, tightening your grip on the microphone as you walk along the stage. The slit of your gown opens slightly, exposing your thigh as you move across the stage. Your gaze shifts to different sides of the lounge, making eye contact with a few of the audience members as some of them sway their upper bodies with your song.
The frequency of your voice brings a sense of calmness to the crowd, some with their palm holding their cheek up as they wear a smile, pleasantly losing themselves with you as they seem to be in a trance that locks them in to only you. Some lean into your presence as they gaze at your figure, nodding their heads occasionally to the flow as well as admiring your overall appearance.
Your manager stands behind the stage, out of the sight of everyone as she chews her nails, shifting her gaze to the eight males that sit upstairs with the best view of the stage. Her eyebrows furrow while her arms tremble slightly, unable to focus on anything else but the intimidating gazes stuck on you. The platform of her shoe taps against the ground as she exhales.
The music goes out just as your voice lingers the last note, eyes fluttering back open as a grin grows on your expression, all the while one of your arms lie out to the side. You set the microphone back on the stand after you bow with a “thank you,” as everyone claps. You accidentally catch Ran’s gaze as well as the other men just as you wave ‘goodbye’ to the audience. You meet your manager behind the stage as she gives you a smile and pulls you into a hug.
“Great job, Y/n! Now let’s celebrate.”
The night was spent drinking as well as having conversations with various people, discussing their businesses and hobbies as well as asking you numerous facts about yourself. Your manager seemed to have disappeared a while ago, leaving you to sit by yourself on a lounge chair, the dress hugging your legs as if you were a mermaid. You eye your phone’s screen while taking a sip of your champagne, eyeing the recent post of your own performance until the shadow of a person steals your attention.
“We need to go, now!” Your manager says before snatching your wrist, pulling you along as drops of liquid splash out of the glass.
“M/n? What the hell?” You gasp as you’re caught off guard, almost tripping over your own dress while she forces you to rush to the dressing room.
You yank your arm out of her grip before glaring at her.
“M/n! What is going on? Why have you been so on edge tonight?” She quickly gathers all of your stuff as you stare at her with disbelief. She pauses, failing to look at you.
“L-look. I’ll explain everything later. We just need to get out of Japan right now.”
“Wait a minute. I thought we were staying for a few days.” Your tone shifted to concern. “What’s wrong, M/n? Did something happen?” She drops the makeup supplies before turning to you and gripping your arms.
“I told you, Y/n! I will explain everything later, but right now we don’t have much time! We need to leave, now!” You gaze at her with shock along with fear as you become nervous by her own look of terror. Sweat sliding along the lining of her forehead along with her eyeliner slightly smeared with red eyes.
What the fuck is going on?
“Oh? What’s the rush? The party was just getting started.” A smooth voice says with amusement behind you. You watch as your manager’s eyes widened before you turned to meet your gaze with three men. Your eyes met a familiar purple though the rest of the features were slightly different, the purple mullet being the most prominent as well as the matching tattoo you saw on the male earlier. You guessed this man to be the other owner of the club, Haitani Rin.
Standing to his right is a man with golden eyes, blonde strands falling over his face along with his black hair pulled into a neat ponytail. His expression was light, holding a smile that you could mistake for politeness. He placed his hands in his pockets after shutting the door behind them. To the Haitani’s left is a man with narrowed blue eyes that seem to pierce into your soul, his pink mullet shaped perfectly around his beautiful features. Your gaze shifts to the scars placed at the corners of his mouth, furrowing your brows before you take in the situation at hand.
“What’s going on, M/n?” You side eye her as you watch her eyes widen. Her lips slightly apart as she tries to think of something to say.
“That was a beautiful performance, Y/n. Fitting for such a gorgeous woman.” The blonde says as he approaches, holding a hand out. The tiger in black ink on his neck added to the intimidating aura that contrasts with the expression on his face. He mimics Ran, bringing your limp hand to his lips while gazing into your eyes. A look of such intensity that you had to look away.
“Thank you…” You pause in expectance.
“Kazutora.” You nod with a polite smile before shifting your gaze to the others.
The tension in the room has yet to disappear. You couldn’t really focus on anything else but how scared your manager looks right now.
“M/n. It’d be in your best interest to follow us. The King wants to speak to you.” The pink haired one says, a look of satisfaction crossed his face when he states ‘the King,’ which causes you a little confusion by the title.
Kazutora takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you along as you look behind to glance at your manager with a questioning look. You all walk out of the dressing room and through the hall. The only sounds being your heels clicking and their speech, nothing you could decipher because of the differing language.
“Surprised she’d be Mikey’s type.” Rin says to the other men.
“No kidding. Who knew a famous babe from Y/c would catch his eye?” Kazutora says while glancing at you.
“There’s a lot you two don’t know about Mikey.” The pink haired man replies.
“Hm, I guess you’re right Sanzu. Wonder how long it’ll take before blood sheds tonight.” Kazutora rubs his chin.
“Can’t wait to find out.” Sanzu smirks.
You turn back to glance at your manager who looks as though the color on her face has disappeared.
I hope I find out what’s going on with her.
You all arrive upstairs, walking down a hall before being met with an office. When you walked in, you noticed the other men who sat on the balcony with Ran, standing around the desk facing the entrance. Ran also in position though sitting in a chair next to the desk in the spacious room. A man with pale hair sits behind the desk with a sweater hanging off of his shoulders, dark eyes gazing into yours as Kazutora removes his arm and leads you to your seat. Your manager sits beside you on another chair, along with Rin standing by her side and Kazutora standing by yours, everyone facing the platinum haired male. Sanzu takes position beside the short man, standing by his chair with his hand holding the other.
You felt on edge, seven pairs of eyes focused on you, all the while silence filled the room. You turn in your seat to look at the blocked entrance, some other broad men blocking the door. Your eyebrows furrowed as the room seemed to get colder, turning back in your seat as you faced the mystery man.
“Speak.” His narrowed eyes meet your manager’s.
She hesitates as you watch her shift uncomfortably in her seat. Her chest rises as she takes a shaky breath in before exhaling.
“U-um, I…” She stammers, fingers trembling against the arm of the chair. You stay quiet, concerned with her behavior as your own body glistens with sweat from stress. You shift in your seat, straightening your back as you cross your ankles, your legs fidgeting as you feel the butterflies in your stomach.
“You tried to leave? And so soon?” He questions, his expression stoic as his eyes bore into your manager’s. Her hands move to her lap as her foot taps against the ground.
“U-uh, no. No I didn’t.” She breathes out.
“I think you did. Didn’t she?” They all responded with “Yes Boss.” Before silence falls once more.
“Why?” M/n’s mouth shuts as she tries to think of something. You could only guess that she was nervous because of whatever business title the men hold so you decide to speak up for her.
“We’re grateful for the opportunity, really. It’s just been a long night.” You explain, only causing some of the men to chuckle at the naivety. Your eyebrows furrow in irritation. “Okay, what the hell is really going on?”
M/n looks at you with wide eyes before holding her hands up and shaking her head.
“Y-Y/n, I’ll explain later, just give me some ti…”
“No, tell me right now why everyone is acting so weird. Stop wasting time.” You growl, sick of the antics and the vague conversations.
The man looks at you for a moment before nodding to Rin. To your surprise he pulls out a gun just as M/n hops out of her seat causing the chair to fall backwards. She runs to the entrance only for him to hold the weapon up, shooting the gun. The bullet penetrates her back, causing her to fall over, a shriek leaving her lips as the throbbing pain fills her senses. You jump out of your seat in shock, eyes staring at the blood staining her attire while she lays her head on the floor.
“What the fuck?” You exclaim, heading to the bleeding girl only to get pulled against a chest, arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your feet off the ground.
“You said to stop wasting time!” Kazutora laughs as the rest look on in amusement to the woman losing consciousness.
“Y/n! I-I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! I had no choice! I had no choice!” She weeps, hand smacking against the floor as she covers her head with her arm. “I’m so sorry.” She whimpers.
“What are you talking…! Let me fucking go! She needs to go to the hospital!” You yell, beating Kazutora’s arms as you try to pry them off, kicking your feet.
Sanzu walks to the woman lying on the ground. Setting a foot to the wound before pressing down, causing a strangled gasp to come out of her mouth. You struggle harder as you watch him point a gun to her head from above.
“Explain yourself.” He growls, smiling wide with crazed eyes.
“I-I sold you! I s-sold… you! It’s… *gasp* all in their…*pant* hands!” She weeps, “I h-ha… *grunt* had no choice!” Her own nails pierce her palms as she turns her hands to fists, squeezing in pain as he continues to press his weight down.
You could only stare in silence as you paused your struggling.
“T-they’re a… a gang! A *pant* criminal….organization! Th-they…*grunt* threaten…!” She screams out in agony once Sanzu pulls his leg up and slams his foot down on her wound. You wince as you begin to struggle again.
“Let her go!” You were angry with her, yes. However, if the truth is that they threatened her, you couldn’t help but empathize despite your lingering resentment. Your only focus was to get both of you out of here alive. You wondered where your guards were.
“Yes, ma’am.” Sanzu smiles before moving his foot off of her and cocking the gun, pulling the trigger. The bullet blasts half of her skull open. The sickening sound of blood splattering the floor causes you to gasp before you yell out, tears falling out of your eyes at the traumatic display.
“Hey, save those vocals for the bedroom, yeah?” Ran jokes before lighting a cigarette, some of the other men chuckling at his response.
“Let me go! Let me go, goddamnit!” You growl angrily, crying as Kazutora forces you to sit down.
He cocks his gun, bringing the barrel to your head while putting a finger over his lips. You eye him with a look of horror.
“Shh.” He starts. “Boss isn’t done talking.”
You pant as you hold your chest, staring back at their ‘boss’ who eyes you quietly. The room calms down once more as everyone takes their original positions, a gun still pressed to your head. He slides a form over for you to read. You lean in your seat and look over the sheet that confirmed your manager’s signature, signing you over to Bonten, a criminal organization residing in Japan.
“The contract doesn’t lie. During this term and all others, you are now the property of Bonten.”
You shook your head while whispering, “No.”
“I own you, Y/n. You can either fall in line willingly or by force. I don’t care. You’re mine.” He says before standing from his seat.
“Mikey.” He says to you before shifting his attention to the others. “Take her to Bonten’s headquarters.”
Kazutora hides his gun and grabs your arm as you struggle against his hold. Just as Mikey and Sanzu, along with some of the other men, head to the doorway, he says, “Knock her out if you have to.”
A breathy laugh is released from Kazutora before he pulls back a fist.
“Sorry, doll.”
Darkness immediately engulfs your vision.
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ferg0s · 1 month ago
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Kunigami with a bookworm reader who he meet by accident but kinda starts to like after a while.
Pre wild card Kunigami cuz he’s bbygrl
Canonically has an older sister, I imagine her being an English major. Someone who got him into comic books In hopes of getting him into literature and that’s how he got his dream of being a hero-esque figure.
You’re her friend. A lil younger than her but the two of you met a book store and became friends after going for the same book, paid half and half and decided to take turns reading it and eventually made a lil book club to talk about said book.
Came back after practice to see you in the living room having tea with his sister, deep in conversation about the book in question.
Initially thought you were cute but out of respect for his sister he kept his distance.
Would say a polite hello and go to his room. Maybe come down to get some food, but even then, let the two of you talk without interruption.
You and his sister began to become closer, mostly due to your love for books. Coming together at their house to talk about the recent books you’ve read, but it slowly just began the two of you hanging out.
Kunigami knew of you; if he saw you at the house, in the living room or kitchen he wouldn’t blink twice. Initially thought you were his sisters classmate. but after talking to you when his sister asked him to walk you to the busstop cuz she didnt want you walk alone, he found out you were his age. you told him how you and his sister met, exchanged some friendly conversation and found out he was on the soccer team.
"yeah im a striker-" he said, looking at the path ahead. “Oh- that’s cool!” You reply. He knew that tone, the one his sister had - where they didn’t know what that meant but they were supportive. “It means I’m the guy who’s in charge of scoring the points-“ he adds. You nod. “I guess that’s very important,” you chuckle, looking at the ground.
Did you find his hot? Yes! Oh my god when he first walked in - you saw the resemblance right away - but the way his sister had described him you thought he was a toddler. I guess all older siblings do that, and they seemed to have a very close relationship. She still saw him as a child despite the fact that he was almost an adult. So when he walked in, holding his gym bag and greeted you, you tried to remain cool.
You weren’t the most social. So it was like fighting a life or death battle when he would come down to the kitchen while you and his sister were baking or making a quick snack. He was polite, always kept the conversation to a minimum before retreating to his room.
You wouldn’t dare let your cooler older friend know that you thought her brother was hot. But you figured that she had figured it out, she was very observant. So when you were getting ready to leave, saying your goodbyes, you froze up when you heard her call Kunigami to walk you to the stop.
You had walked there plenty of times, even later in the night in some cases. But she insisted that it would be safer for you to have someone to walk with. “There’s been an increase of muggings-“ she said. Conveniently leaving out the part that she was talking about the city and not their neighbour hood. Technically she wasn’t wrong?
Despite only talking to him a hand full of times, you felt pretty comfortable around him. He was polite. Asking the small talk questions that didn’t steer into anything awkward. Telling you about his games and such. He was a sweetie, which made your crush on him even more worse.
He was a gentleman. Waiting with you until your bus came, waving you goodbye as it departed. The one off thing soon became a regular occurrence, due to the insistence of his sister. He thought you were cute, but then again, he thought a lot of girls were cute. It was a given for guys his age. But the more he talked to you the more interested and invested he became. He was used to his sister going on tangents about books, passionately talking about every aspect of it - so he figured he’d do the same with you. Given you two had the same interests. It seemed to break you out of your quiet shell.
The walks began to consist of you describing your favourite books and stories to him. He was used to tuning it out and nodding his head. But something about you made him want to listen. “So he turns into a bug? Like a bug bit him? Like Spiderman?” He asked. You came to find out he liked spider man a lot. “No- he just woke up. It’s supposed to be a metaphor…”
But he really couldn’t keep up with the nuances of your literary likes, so he tried a different approach
“Do you like comics? Like marvel and stuff?” “Oh yeah- who doesn’t?”
His eyes lit up. Finally something he could relate too.
“Who’s your favourite super hero?” “Hmm… that’s a hard one.” You say as you look at him. “I like super man to be honest. It’s corny and lame but I like how he’s just this beacon of hope and just… nice? I don’t know how to say it. He could be evil but he just chooses to help people instead of like world domination-“ you explain. He smiled. “You know - i completely agree.”
Super heros became the things you talked about on your walks together. To a point where he genuinely waited for the sound of his sister door opening so he could rush out and get ready to walk with you. You looked forward to it too. He liked how you added a different perspective to it - digging in deep, finding the deeper meaning to each thing you two talked about. He felt a little embarrassed for saying he liked the hero’s cuz of their powers. But you didn’t seem to mind, smiling and telling him “me too,”.
For a while it seemed that the only thing the two of you talked about was that. He was happy - until he realized how rude it must seem. So he tried his best to steer the conversation to something that you might like.
Que him borrowing his sisters copy of the books you mentioned and trying to read them. It was the first time anytime anyone in his family saw him deeply invested in a book since… well… ever.
“So I read that book you talked about-“ he said as the two of you got out the house. “Oh? Which one?” You ask. When he told you the name of your favourite book, your stomach did a flip. “Y-you read that?” You asked uncertain. “Yeah - honestly I liked it.”
Que the whole walk being about said book, you talking with more passion than he had ever seen. To a point where the two of you watched the bus leave infront of you without caring, too engrossed in the conversation. Did you wait for the next bus - a full hour - on the steps of the nearby convenience store while sharing a bag of chips? Yes.
It seemed like the conversation had no end. Books, then his soccer, then back to books, somehow spider man, back to soccer. It was this chemistry that didn’t have an end.
Leading him to trying to slyly ask his sister if there was any bookstore cafes near by - and her happily giving an answer.
She didn’t question when you came over to visit, despite not making plans with her.
She didn’t question why he came up to her asking her if hard covers were better or soft covers.
______
Kunigami is a spider man fan. Thats not my head cannon, thats literally cannon. Argue with a wall.
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systemadministratorclu · 1 year ago
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Y'all, I just HAD to share this, because holy shit.
A little background first:
I run the drive-thru cash register window at a fast food joint. One of the shittiest jobs there is because some of the rudest/stupidest people on the planet come through the drive-thru, and one must have near superhuman patience to deal with it. That said, there are customers who come regularly and are not hard to deal with at all. And then there are some-very few and far between-that restore your faith in humanity a little every time they come.
This is about one such customer.
This guy comes every day at about the same time with his grandson (6 years old when this started, recently turned 7) and gets the exact same thing every time. To the point where now either I see their car or I hear the guy say his name (whichever happens first) and I'm already ringing them up. Because of this, the kid now thinks I have weirdly specific psychic powers, and has said he prefers coming to the place when I'm there. He's also decided I'm the best employee this place has. The granddad talks to me like I'm a human, they're always smiling and happy to see me (which means a lot in this line of work, let me tell you) and even on my shittiest days, they've managed to make me smile. I genuinely look forward to seeing these people every day.
Recently, grandson was hella excited to tell me he had a birthday coming up. Reminded me every day "my birthday's coming!" as most 6yo kids do.
Maybe I was feeling a little holiday spirit or something, but one day after work, I went to the Dollar Tree near the restaurant. I picked out a kid's birthday card and a Christmas card. I wrote a message in the Christmas one about what I just explained above, thanking them for bringing some joy to my days, because y'know what? People need to hear that shit. Especially in today's world. And I wanted them to know how much this meant to me. I wrote a little joke in the birthday card about not forgetting the day. Then I looked in my wallet, saw I had a $10 and a $1, and stuck the $10 in the birthday card. Addressed the birthday card to the kid and the Christmas one to kid and grandpa. I give the cards to them on their normal drive-thru visit. They are of course surprised (kid starts yelling "thank you" even though he hasn't gotten to open it yet) but thankful. Then the line moves on.
Fast forward to today.
I see the car come in but I don't start ringing the order up, because it's WAY early for them. I give my usual greeting, then I hear a woman's voice, so I think it's someone in the same kind of car. But when she asks "is this Hal?" I then realize it's the kid's mother, whom he has told all about me and who has come through with him before.
I say yes, and she tells me she's not here to order anything, just to see me, since kid and granddad are sick. I tell her to come on to the window, she does, and hands me a card and a nicely wrapped gift. I asked her to tell them hi for me, she said she would and then the line moved.
I got off on lunch break and opened card and gift.
I was not prepared. At all.
This is the gift...
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...the card (no writing on the front).....
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.....and the typed note inside the card that actually brought tears to my eyes.
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......I'm still not over this. I will be thinking about how this went on for OVER HALF A FUCKING YEAR and I had no idea.
This is the kind of stuff that makes this shitty job worth it. People like this....We need more of in this world. I'm going to hold onto that note so when I feel like shit or I don't matter, I can look at it and know there's a kid out there who I am so important to that he got his dad to write a whole-ass letter, to some random stranger he only knows through his son, inviting me to their fucking house. I'm tearing up again as I write this, just thinking about it.
If that doesn't say "you matter", idk what does.
(And yes, I will go at some point, because how can I not? I'm not gonna dash this kid's hopes and make myself look like an enormous asshole. This is the RL version of being handed a toy phone and told it's ringing)
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gguk-n · 6 months ago
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Can you please write second change romance with Lando where reader tells him "Love me. chose me. for once in your damned life, fight for me!"
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Reader is working at sky sports as a journalist. I hope you like it. I hope I did it justice.
Track of the Heart
{Reader's POV}
I knew the world was a small place and some times you run into people you are actively trying to avoid. For me, that was Lando Norris.
We were both young and in love. He was my first serious adult relationship. I loved him deeply; if you asked drunk me, I'd probably say that I still love him. But that was the past. He broke up with me because his fans didn't like me. The hate had gotten to the point that I had stopped using my phone except to call or text my friends and family and Lando knew. I had told him through tears about all the mean things people said about me. Part of me hoped that he would tell them off for it but what I didn't expect was for him to disregard it and let it get so bad that even at races people would name call me, even in front of Lando and he would do nothing. It affected my health, my mental peace and my studies. So, I did what was best for me; walked away.
That was 3 years ago. Right now I was standing face to face with the man that broke my heart. I knew when I applied for a position at Sky Sports that I would run into Lando. Luckily, I had stayed clear of him for the year that I had interned there; by only going to cover other sports and minor leagues. Today, the team was short staffed, they needed someone to help make the scripts and organise the cue cards, so they brought along a couple new hires. I did everything in my power to evade the race because it would mean being stuck on an F1 venue for a whole weekend with my ex. My direct superior wouldn't listen to any of my crap, as he put it and told me to pack my stuff and to meet him at the venue.
So here I was, awkwardly standing, in front of the supposed love of my life. He looked shocked to see me before his eyes flickered to the Sky Sports entry pass, as if a switch flipped. He smiled and greeted; "You're finally a sports journalist, like you always wanted to be. Congratulations" he said while raising his hand to shake mine. Out of courtesy, I moved all the files in my hands to my left and shook his hand. "My colleagues were saying you had your maiden win this season, so Congratulations I guess." I retorted. I adjusted the files in my hands, almost dropping one, which Lando quickly caught with his hand. I thanked him and left to see the team with all my files.
{Lando's POV}
Her hands were still soft like I remembered them with a sweet tinge of vanilla, her favourite body lotion. She had coloured her hair recently and she looked so much more professional and put together then I remembered. I guess it comes with the job. Hearing her congratulate me felt like home even if it felt like it was laced with sarcasm, like the only thing that ever mattered. How did I even celebrate a race without her? She was still clumsy I thought as I caught the file she almost dropped. The weekend just got more eventful I thought as she walked away.
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{Reader's POV}
If there is one thing I will advice you is that don't be a hard worker especially in a situation if it will land you working with your ex for the whole year. One of the members from the F1 team went on maternity leave and she spoke so highly of me that I ended up working on the races till she returned. Now to my horror, all the fans still remembered me. Even after 3 years, they did not hesitate to start up rumours about me and Lando being together and that we never really broke up and it was all a publicity stunt. I had to speak to my bosses to let them know that all of that was in the past and that I wasn't dating him anymore; they didn't care unless it affected my work.
Working at the paddock wasn't easy and Lando didn't make it any easier. He acted like a menace before and after interviews especially if I was around. Sometimes I wanted to strangle him.
{Lando's POV}
Being around her reminded me why I had fallen in love with her in the first place. She brought the idiotic side of me out. "Mate, you need to stop annoying Y/N. She'll strangle you one day." Carlos said while they were on the drivers parade. "She wouldn't. There's a reason she's tolerating me." I said. "Yeah, sky sports pays her to do her job." Carlos laughed. Part of me wanted to believe that she tolerated me because she still loved. But I knew that was selfish of me, since the reason we broke up lay heavily on me.
This made me want to be closer to her. I guess proximity made the heart softer. I found myself bringing her snacks or treats during her long days. Slowly but surely I found myself back in her arms. We didn't out right say it, but we were dating each other. She made the weekends even more enjoyable. It was exhilarating to be running around trying not to get caught; until we did get caught. It was like a switch flipped inside her and she stopped seeing me.
{Reader's POV}
The gifts and the sneaking away and having someone care for me got to me. Before I knew it I was back in Lando's arms. I knew getting back together with Lando was a bad idea. All my suspicions were confirmed when a picture of us leaving together from a club in Las Vegas made rounds. The hate was worse then before; it's like they forgot there was a person behind it all. I couldn't even shut off social media because of my work. I didn't want to be seen with him anymore; I was going to stop reporting for F1 and live my life covering other sports. Hopefully they didn't find me there. Lando was still persistent even after I had stopped talking to him and cut him off.
"Babe, you gotta stop running away from me." Lando spoke cornering me, out of breath from the running. "I have work to do, if you'll excuse me Mr Norris." I said. "Since, when was I Mr Norris?" He questioned. "Since a while, I never should've gotten back with you." I declared. "You don't mean that." Lando stammered. "Actually I do." saying that broke my heart because deep down I loved him but it didn't feel like he loved me. "But I love you. Don't you love me?" he asked. "It doesn't matter what I feel, when you'll never reciprocate it." I pointed out. "What do you mean?" he pleaded. "Lando, the exact reason we broke up was because you couldn't stick up for me. I knew you and yet I got myself involved in this." I sighed. "But, baby I need you." he voiced. I laughed, there were tears in my eyes, "Not enough to stick up for me." "What's gotten into you?" Lando probed. "Nothing's gotten into me, I should've stayed away from you. Your fans hate me, they always have. They want me fired; did you know that?" I asked. Lando was at a loss for words.
"You know when we broke up I wanted you to want me. But you love your fans more." I commented. "It's not like that I love you more, I missed you a lot after we broke up." he said. "Not enough to clear the air anyways." I voiced out. "What do you want me to do?" Lando asked trying to reach for my hands. "Love me, choose me. For once in your damned life, fight for me. If you really want me you'll do something, or you can watch me walk away for the second time." I stated while turning on my heels and leaving.
I did not expect Lando to do what he did next. He made a statement on every social media account of his, even Quadrants; it read-
Hi guys, Lando here. I would like to let you all know that I love Y/N Y/L/N who is currently working for Sky Sports F1. We used to date a few years ago but we broke up because of my foolishness. Fate gave me another chance and I don't want to blow it. If any of you have any issue with her, keep it to yourself. Because she is here to stay for as long as she will have me. Kindly refrain from sending her any hate if you love and support me. If you do send hate, I will be forced to take legal action to protect the love of my life.
I was sat in shock reading the statement. I can already imagine the train wreck McLaren PR must be in. I was pulled out of my thoughts by a knock on my door. I opened it to find a sweaty Lando with a big bouquet of flowers, chocolates and a couple gift bags. "I know this isn't a lot, but this is a start. Let me apologise. I'm sorry for all the hurt I caused you. Please take me back." he said with tears in his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I love you too Lando Norris." I declared. Lando dropped all the stuff on the ground and wrapped his arms around me. "I won't let you down, I promise." he said. "I'll hold you to it." I said. "You can hold it against me for the rest of our lives." he told. "I don't think you want me that long." I laughed. He broke our embrace to cup my cheeks, "I'll have you as long as you'll let me stay." and pressed a kiss against my lips. "I think I'll like to have you inside for now." I said while pulling him in and closing the door.
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dissociation-station123 · 1 month ago
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More than an Acquaintance
LADS: Sylus X Reader
~
It has been a month or two since Sylus walked into the bar. Each week you walked in he sat in your spot with confidence as if it was his all along. Slowly his eyes began to become less serious and melancholy after each greeting. Though you barely spoke much. Still the same old surface level conversations with a few more words added each time. Nothing has deterred you from your normalcy or routine.
You felt yourself slowly becoming more comfortable around him. Those warning alarms in your mind when you first encountered him dulled. He became a part of the scene of your life. Someone who didn’t know you but acknowledged you.
You did notice that the bar had got a bit more crowded than usual, people drawn in by his model-like looks. Hopeful for a chance to take him home. He always declined them in a way that still made them feel wanted. His social ability was admirable. Your curiosity peaked each time he denied an attractive person’s advances. A simple shrug your way and a raised glass is always his response.
He was an enigma. A puzzle that your brain needed to figure out. Yet you could not find a way to do so. The complexities of conversation are exhausting and you just wanted to relax, in the bar you claimed. So you simply existed in his presence.
Until he decided to set his sights on you. He was a storm you were not prepared for. You were comfortable standing in the water up to your ankles, unaware that letting him in your life, it was a sandbar.
~
“Y/N I refuse to allow you to pay.” Sylus shoves that damn black card in your face once again. You scowl which only amuses him further. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“This feels like I’m taking advantage of you. I can afford my drinks.” You rebuttal but he waves a hand in your direction and hands his card to the bartender who laughs. You sigh heavily but the moment the glass arrives you happily take a sip.
You look over and he chuckles, you roll your eyes. “Such a brat…” He mutters and you bite your cheek. His banter towards you recently has become more playful. Yet based on your observations, it seems to be some kind of defense he uses, so you haven’t given it much thought.
“Try this.” Sylus passes his glass over to you and stares down expectantly. Your eyes narrow as you assess why. He scoffs in amusement, “Tell her I didn’t poison it.” He motions towards the bartender who cackles in response.
“He paid to have this whiskey imported. Just got it in this morning. It’s top tier. Worth a try.” She smiles kindly, bringing over a new glass and setting it in front of you, pouring the contents into the bottle.
You swirl the liquor and then bring it to your lips. You look up and he is watching with a content expression. Waiting patiently for your critique. You take a sip with caution. Your eyes widen as you swallow. It is very smooth. The burn is satisfying and not harsh like the usual cheap bourbon you drink. “Mmm…” You nod with satisfaction.
He looks pleased with himself after your response. “One of my favorites. I knew you would appreciate it.” You take a longer drink humming. You give him a thumbs up and he chuckles.
“Please refrain from telling me how much this cost you. It would make me enjoy it less.” You warn him with a glare and he smiles brightly.
“I love seeing the expressions you make when I ruin things for you. One of the reasons I keep coming back here.” He teases you ruffling your hair, his light touch no longer fazing you.
“Sadist.” You mutter but you smirk as you finish off the fancy whiskey. The bottle still sits between you so he pours you more. You glance at him and he just nods, letting you know it’s fine. You gladly drink oblige.
You want to ask him why he came here. What brought him through that dingy wooden door. It felt like a line that both of you weren’t ready to cross just yet.
“It cost…” you gasp and reach up covering his mouth in a panic. His eyes crinkle with mirth, his lips soft against your palm.
“Sylus…” You warn and then feel his teeth dig into your flesh gently. “What are you, a dog?” You remove your hand chastising him and he laughs.
“Sweetie, I’ve been called that and more.” His voice drips with seduction, naturally. You almost feel jealous about how easy it is for him. How easy it is to make your skin heat up with a string of words and tone.
You roll your eyes, your frustration directed more to yourself than to him. Your fumbling and awkward demeanor forever being called cute.
“What are you thinking about?” Sylus leans closer, as he sips. Those red eyes scanning your face in curiosity. You shove him away but he still waits for an answer, never offended.
“Nothing.” You say the usual reply and pour more. He clicks his teeth. “Everything. All at once.” You continue and he looks intrigued, resting his chin on his hand.
“The curse of the overthinker.” He says and you nod. “Must be difficult.” You nod unable to maintain eye contact. “It’s better to just live in the moment. You should give it a try sometime.”
A prickle of irritation runs down your spine. “As if it’s that easy.” You growl not meaning to sound so annoyed. This does not deter Sylus, it almost looks as if it excites him.
“It could be.” His voice so matter of fact, you mock him. Your body freezes as he grabs your chin and tilts it towards him forcing you to face him. “Don’t be such a wimp.”
Rage bubbled to the surface, the kind that had been building up for years. A dam that had been battered and never repaired. The cracks slowly leaking over time, bursting to life. “That look is intoxicating.” The arrogant bastard spouted out with a twisted mannerism.
“You are fucked up Sylus. I’m sure that’s how you ended up here at this shitty bar.” You say venom laced in your words which only made him smile larger.
“A similar broken soul.” He says nonchalantly with a shrug. “I wish I could wear my expressions as freely as you do.” He admits his face showing nothing.
“You could.” You say condescendingly, “You're just a wimp.” You grab the bottle from the counter and take a long swig directly. This conversation seemed dangerous. A rough way of getting to truly know each other.
His eyes lower for a millisecond. Then he releases your chin and his whole body shakes as he laughs, a genuine sound. It bounces around the empty bar.
“Closing time.” The bartender reminds us as you continue to grimace at him. She nervously looks back and forth. You take in a breath, burying the anger as fast as it had appeared.
“Already…” Sylus mutters looking at his phone surprised. “That’s a shame.” He almost looks truly disappointed. You felt bad for snapping back at him.
“Are you hungry?” You ask him and his eyebrows raise. “Well?” You begin to gather your things as he processes your question.
“Are you inviting me back to your place?” He asks cheekily and you groan. You elbow him as he tries to move closer.
“Hell no! There is a pizza truck down the street.” You counter as the bartender closes his tab and tosses the empty bottle of expensive whiskey in the trash. You see her laugh, you both become a form of entertainment for her.
“That makes more sense. You would never be so bold.” He says as he starts following you out. You turn to him, crossing your arms.
“Are you hungry or not? Cuz this can be goodnight.” You stand tall even as he towers over you. “But it seems you weren’t ready for the night to end yet. Need to be distracted from something a bit longer.”
A strange silence fills the space between you. You see him contemplating if he has let you get too close. “So clever. Yes I can eat.” He opens the door for you and you walk out without a response.
~
You watch him stare at the grease as he lifts the large slice of pizza. “It won’t kill you.” You say as you take a large bite and make a pleased sound. The bread is the perfect combo to soak up the alcohol.
“Says you…” He whispers, hesitant but takes a tiny bite. You smile when he goes for a bigger one quickly after.
The metal bench was cold even through your jeans, the air felt good against your flush face. The night was quiet as you both ate without speaking another word. The strange comfort of having someone beside you is nice for a change. You admit you weren’t ready to go home either.
“You are a kind person.” Sylus speaks up taking you by surprise. You see he has finished his food in record time.
“You don’t know me.” You say matter of fact. Your thoughts tell you differently. Everyday bombarding you with mistakes from your past. This man, this stranger who appeared could not understand.
“It’s your actions. I can tell that those who see you regularly appreciate you.” He continues, and you don’t know how to respond. You don’t want to accept this.
“You never once make me feel unwelcomed. I know you could tell I was bad news the moment your eyes landed on me.” He explains as you finish your slice. You hold out your hand to take his napkin to toss. He grabs it and kisses your knuckles brazenly.
“Napkin weirdo.” You scold him and he chuckles, handing it to you. You get up and throw them away. Sitting back down and lifting the water bottle to your lips you take a long gulp.
“I want to get to know you.” Sylus blurts out and you finally look up at him. He looks like when you first met him, stoic and serious. “Don’t you dare utter why.” His voice is demanding and leaves no room to rebuttal.
“Why should I get to know you?” You ask instead. You see him processing your question. Giving it true consideration. You sense he was not used to others questioning him.
“It would be fun. Probably unhealthy and addictive. Just like your bourbon.” He was so confident. Shame probably was not a concept he could comprehend. It was damn intriguing.
“Tell me why you walked into the bar.” You borrow his temerity, wearing it for a second. It felt foreign and strange but not wrong.
“Love.” He says the word like a curse. You are taken back by the pure disgust on his face. So much emotion, you wonder what that feels like.
“So a broken heart then?” You ask and he just nods. “One sided?” Sylus bites his lip and if his expression was not so somber you would have found it attractive.
“Have you ever been in love?” He does not answer but counters. The past creeps up into your peripheral and you cringe. “That was a yes.”
“I was married once.” You answer, “But not sure if it was love. I felt numb most of the time. Or anxious.” He frowns at your statement, a slight sense of anger lingered in his eyes for a second.
“You didn’t deserve that.” You turn to him with a flat expression. He looks back still so assured. It pissed you off now. The way this man could ignite the flames long put out.
“I could have. Stop assuming.” You shiver as the wind turns bitter. You look at the time and sigh. “I like it when you're at the bar.” You finally admit and he nods.
“I’m glad I walked in.” He responds, again the calm silence. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you home.” He stands looking to the sky at the moon above. He looks weary and forlorn. Yet so very beautiful. There is no way he was real.
“I can walk by myself. This is my turf anyways. I’m not too far.” You explain stretching. The food settling nicely, your mind not clouded by the haze of liquor now.
“There has been some increase in muggings in this area. Let me feel like a good guy just this once.” You nod and he thanks you. You walk next to each other shoulders inches apart. You know he is slowing his pace based on his long legs. He was thoughtful even if he wanted to be painted as the opposite.
“Here we are. Have a goodnight Y/N.” Lost in your thoughts you arrived home quicker than expected. On autopilot you look around and then thank him.
“Night.” You say and go to place your key in the door. As you turn to open it you come to a realization. Sylus leads you to your door as if he had walked it before. You turned around but he was already down the street. The warning bells that first alerted you rang again but there was this strange tingle in your chest, possible excitement?
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girliism · 5 months ago
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thinking about tashi coaching reader who’s never played tennis before… r gets good enough to win a challenger, and tashi finger fucks her all night, even giving art a turn
i wanna be tashi’s good girl ☹️
don’t we all 🙂‍↕️
even after art retired tashi still wasn’t ready to give up tennis. meeting tashi was a stroke of luck. you just wanted to pick up a new sport when you saw her hanging out around the tennis courts at the country club you go to. “you’re tashi donaldson.” you explain to her how you recently got into tennis and how you’ve been looking for a coach. tashi surprisingly gives you her card to call her.
tennis becomes your whole life after that. waking up at four am to drive over to the donaldson house where art greets you at the door leading you to the tennis court in the back.
you spend the next four hours on the court only fueled by protein shakes and the praises tashi yells at you when you score better than art.
“she’s gotten really good. hasn’t she honey.” art’s seated on the other side of the couch massaging your feet. you’ve become pretty close to the donaldson’s since meeting them. lingering touches on your lower back and pet names here and there weren’t out of the norm with them.
tashi walked up behind where you were sitting and started petting at your head. “she has. which is why i signed her up for a challenger next weekend.” “what? i’m not ready for challenger.” you’re darting your nervous eyes between them. “don’t wanna embarrass you guys.” “you could never embarrass us.” art strokes your leg to comfort you. you look up at tashi and she nods and smiles in agreement.
the whole week tashi works the hell out of you. it’s tennis and strict diets 24/7. before you know it it’s time for the challenger.
you’re sitting in the break room chewing anxiously on a piece of gum tashi’s telling you about your opponent. “she’s got nothing on you. you’ll practically be playing against a child.” someone knocks on the door signaling it’s time to good. “go out there and win ok.” you spit the gum in your mouth out in tashi’s hand. “ok.”
you don’t know how you do it but you win your first challenger with ease. instead of going back to hotel to relax you spend the next few hours being interviewed. everyone wanting to know the new prodigy tashi’s working with.
finally back at the hotel room tashi sits at the head of the bed rewatching your match. “here come sit next to me.” tashi pats the spot on next to her on the bed. you crawl up next to her bumping knees from how close you’re sitting.
“you did so good today. i’m very proud of you.” her fingers are tracing light touches on your inner thigh. you look over to art who’s fixing himself a drink before taking a seat in the chair in front of the bed. “i think she deserves her reward.” art says
you try to subtly squeeze your thighs together. tashi takes notice of this and brings fingers up to the waistband of your shorts pulling at them. “only if she wants it.” “want it yes i want.” the both of them laugh at your eagerness only making you panties more soaked.
tashi brings her hand to your cheek and smashes her lips onto yours. taking immediate lead of the kiss tashi slips her tongue into your mouth. you can hear arts breath get heavier. “let’s take this off hm.” raising arms up to let tashi take off your shirt. bare nipples harden from how horny you are.
the stares you get from art and tashi has you covering your chest. “aw, she’s nervous.” art coos and tashi starts pulling down shorts and underwear revealing how wet you are. “she just needs to relax.” the kisses they are being laid on your neck has you sighing as your legs fall open.
“please touch me please” you whine hips bucking up. tashi’s fingers slips down to your pussy pulling your lips open and tracing up to your clit rubbing circles. “oh, fuck” you moan and your eyes fall closed when tashi finally push into you pumping in and out.
“you’re so wet for me. soaking my fingers.” she warps her arms around your middle pulling your back against her chest to lay on her. “faster please.” tashi curls her fingers and pumps them in and out of you at a faster pace. thumb rubbing into your clit when she slips in a third finger. your loud moans and whines music to art a tashi’s ears.
“always such good manners. such a good girl isn’t she a good girl art.” your stomach tenses and your grip the sheets below you hard. tashi is laying kisses on the side of your face sucking and biting at your earlobe. “so good” arts praises mixing perfectly with tashi’s.
you don’t know when but art joins the two of you on the bed. tashi’s fingers slipping out so art’s can replace them. the three fingers that were just in your pussy are pushed into your mouth. you suck eagerly at tashi’s fingers locking eyes with her. “god you’re perfect.”
wet with your spit tashi takes her fingers from you mouth down to your clit massaging the swollen bundle of nerves while art fucks his fingers into you fast and hard.
“cumming oh fuck i’m gonna cum.” you cry out. back arching up legs closing before they’re yanked back open. “cum for us.” the two of them say in unison.
you cum hard loud gasps and scream fall from your lips as the movement on your pussy slow down. both of them suck their fingers clean. laying you flat on your back two pairs of hands stroking your body as you calm down. “good job.” tashi whispers petting your cheek. “keep winning and you’ll get more than our fingers.” you nod still out of it from your orgasm.
you lay next to tashi kissing her here and there while art takes care of her with his mouth. eyes slipping closed you thank her for giving taking you in and giving you a chance.
you continue to win the whole challenger getting rewarded with arts cock and tashi’s cunt on your mouth at the same time.
part two
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