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minisugakoobies · 4 months ago

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Paradise | JJK - Epilogue

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: it's happy ending time!, lots of domestic cuteness, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), shower sex, teasing, dirty talk, someone gets a lap dance 👀, sex in the champagne room, aka sex at work (don't be that coworker!), unprotected sex (monogamous relationship with alternate bc), multiple orgasms

Word Count: 9.1k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

A/N: And now we've reached the end! I can't believe it's been three years this month since OC and Jungkook's story began!! A gigantic THANK YOU to everyone who has liked, commented, reblogged, recommended, and/or sent asks about Paradise. This is for you! 💜

Unbeta’d as usual. Please don’t be a silent reader, I’d love to hear from you! Tell me what you think of the ending! 💕

Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist

Bzzzzzzt

Saturday afternoon dawns bright. You can hear birds chirping outside the windows, joined by the buzzing of bees.

Those are some loud fucking bees.

No wait, that’s your phone.

Bzzzzzzt

You grab it off the nightstand.

Huh, nope. No missed texts or calls.

Bzzzzzzt

What the hell is that sound?

Throwing back the covers, you lug yourself out of bed, snatch a t-shirt from the floor and yank it on, and traipse down the hall, following the incessant hum.

Bzzzzzzt

The noise leads you to the bathroom, where your boyfriend stands over the sink, examining himself in the mirror.

“Hey, jagi,” Jungkook greets you warmly. “Did I wake you? Sorry.” He leans over, planting a soft kiss on your cheek.

“No, it wasn’t you. I heard some sort of buzzing.”

“Ah, yeah, that was me.” He holds up some sort of metallic grey tool. An electric razor? But he doesn’t have one of those. You know by now that he waxes for his job, and what little hair ever appears on his face he takes care of with a simple disposable razor. “Testing this out.”

“I didn’t know you had one of those,” you say, leaning against the doorway.

“I don’t. Namjoon-hyung let me borrow it.” He tilts his head left and right, staring at his reflection.

“Borrow it for wh-oooh my god, Kookie, no!”

Your question becomes a wild wail as your boyfriend brandishes the razor and in one swift move shaves off a chunk of his hair. Watching the dark locks tumble into the sink feels like a scene from a horror movie, unfurling in slow motion.

You glance at Jungkook. Where glorious waves once adorned the side of his handsome face, there is now naught but stubble.

Meanwhile, Jungkook chuckles as he examines his handiwork. “What’s wrong, jagiya? You don’t want to see a fresh new me?”

“Not if it means sacrificing your gorgeous hair!” you pout.

Of course you love all of your boyfriend. Goes without saying. But his hair! It’s so pretty and thick and silky and fluffy and -

-and he’s going to shave it all off??

Bzzzzzzt

Another swath joins the first. Two sad curls at the bottom of the sink.

“Kookie, why?” you lament. “Your pretty hair!”

“Relax!” He laughs, running his tattooed fingers over the scruff that remains where he’s shaved so far. “It’ll grow back eventually. You’re starting to make me think you only love me for -“

Upon catching sight of the expression on your face, he trails off, eyes widening.

“Don’t be stupid,” you reassure him. “I love you for so many reasons. More than there are stars in the sky.”

He grins, turning away.

“Your hair is just, like, 25% of that. Maybe 30.”

“Okay, I’m kicking you out now.”

“Don’t bother. I’m going. I can’t bear to watch anymore.” You spin on your heel, heading for the kitchen. “If you need me, I’ll be crying into my cereal, mourning over breakfast.”

“Could you mourn me up a smoothie while you’re at it?”

As you raise your hand over your head to flip him off, he giggles, pausing in his task to admire the way your ass peeks out from under the t-shirt of his that you’re wearing, before disappearing back into the bathroom.

In the kitchen, you quickly whip up a banana smoothie, appreciating how the obnoxious whirr of the mixer drowns out the evil buzzing echoing down the hallway. Sticking the smoothie into the fridge to keep cold until your boyfriend finishes murdering his hair, you sit down to enjoy a bowl of your favorite sugary cereal.

It hasn’t taken much for you to acclimate to Jungkook’s schedule over the last few months since Jennie’s wedding. You’ve all but moved in, hanging around his apartment (usually napping) until he gets home from work in the early hours of the morning. Most of the time, you stay up for a bit, talking and helping him unwind (sometimes fucking, sometimes giving him a gentle massage to soothe his muscles, sometimes just letting him lay with his head on your chest). Usually near dawn you fall asleep, and then wake at noon to spend the afternoon together until he leaves for Paradise in the evening.

So you've become accustomed to a midday bowl of cereal by now. Of course, it helps that you’re no longer bound to the 9-to-5 life, ever since you quit your job.

The bathroom is rather quiet for several minutes, so you figure Jungkook’s completed his horrible task. So you brace yourself for the sight of a shorn head -

-only to be surprised when he strolls into the kitchen with a sharp undercut.

“Well?” He turns this way and that, striking poses as he walks over to you. “What do you think?”

His dark hair is slicked back, revealing a shorn section on each side of his head, perfectly highlighting his brow piercing. Long strands still flow on top, a swoop falling into his eyes as he smirks at you.

It defies the laws of reality, the way something like this can make your hot boyfriend even sexier. How is it even possible?

Standing, you extend your fingers, letting them run over the short hairs, enjoying the pleasant prickle.

“I think I owe Namjoon a thank you card,” you murmur. The soft stubble tickles your fingertips, like fuzz on a peach. “Maybe even a gift basket.”

His smile grows as he draws you into his arms. “See, you were worried for nothing.”

“I really thought you were going to shave it all off!” you exclaim. Nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck, he laughs, amused huffs of breath dancing over your skin.

“Nope.” He slides your hand into what remains of his hair, lithe fingers encouraging yours to wrap around his locks. “I am thinking about dyeing the rest, though. What do you think sounds better - cherry red or buttery blonde?”

“Blonde!” Did you blurt that out a little too fast? Maybe, judging by the cock of his eyebrow.

“Blonde it is.”

“Do you want your smoothie?” You reach for the fridge door, but he stops you.

“I gotta clean up first. All those little hairs…” His eyes drop to your lips. “Time for a shower.” It’s an invitation that you’re all too happy to accept.

Jungkook first steps under the spray of water to rinse away the hairs still clinging to his face and neck. But as soon as you join him, he crowds you against the wall of the tub, mouth meeting yours, hand diving between your legs, opening you up to take his cock. He’s a bit rushed in his movements, driven by a fervent need to bury himself inside you as quickly as possible, but you don’t care, just as desperate to feel him yourself. It doesn’t matter how many times the two of you do this - every time you need him just as much as you did the first time.

When he slides into you, you let out a loud moan, knees already too weak to stand on. He holds you pinned against the tiles as he thrusts into you, wrapping one of your legs around his waist to help keep you up. “So good, jagi,” he grunts, setting a fast pace. All you can do is hang on, every stroke of his thick cock into your throbbing cunt making you sob his name, until your panting gives way to cries of ecstasy. He spills inside you then, his lips pressed to your cheek, breathing soft words of love across your skin.

In the afternoon, after Jungkook has gone to meet Namjoon at the gym, you decide to take a walk downtown to get a little work done. It’s surprising to you how much has changed in the last few months. Before, the thought of working on a Saturday would’ve sent you into an anxious (and annoyed) spiral. But now? You’re not bothered by it at all. Apparently that’s what happens when you like your job.

Not long after the wedding, you’d gone to the interview Wendy had graciously hooked you up with. Jungkook had helped you prepare, but you were still nervous as fuck. You needed to escape your current company. You needed this new job.

But as the interview progressed, that nervousness turned into a different sinking feeling. Because as the interviewer droned on and on about your responsibilities in this new position, it became more and more clear that you were essentially interviewing for the same job you were trying to leave. It wasn’t a way out. It was a trap. If you took this job, you’d be caught in the same quicksand, dragging you down again.

Despite your growing sense of trepidation, the interview went incredibly well, and you felt pretty confident that you would be hearing from the company soon. Which left you with little time to figure out if you wanted the new job or not.

In the end, it was your promise to Taehyung that made the decision for you. His presentation to the bank was a success, and with his new loan, he’d opened his own studio. Even though you’d done countless presentations over the years at your company, helping too many of their clients to count, this was the first time you’d actually felt joy at the result of your hard work. Helping Taehyung to achieve his dream was a special moment.

It also gave you an idea. A week later, you declined the new job offer. And turned in your notice to your employer. No more working for others.

Time to be your own boss.

It’s just a few blocks from your apartment building to where you’re headed. The bell hanging over the door chimes pleasantly as you let yourself into the little shop. Taehyung’s photography studio is technically closed on Sundays, but with the key he gave you, you can come and go as you please. It’s an arrangement that suits you well.

As you’d expected, Taehyung is sitting in his office in the rear of the shop when you get back there. He nods a quiet greeting, then perks up when he sees the second cup in your hand. You’d stopped at the coffeehouse on your way here, knowing that Taehyung is still splitting his time between Paradise and his studio, which means he’s usually exhausted on Saturdays.

“You really are an angel,” he murmurs, grabbing the cup.

“I know,” you grin, taking a seat at the makeshift desk Taehyung had created for you. He’d been so grateful for your help that he’d insisted that you use his office as your own temporary workspace while you established your consulting business. You were in no position to turn down free rent, but you’d agreed to only if he let you act as his interim bookkeeper. It was only fair. “Where’s Yeontan?”

“I gave my assistant the day off,” Taehyung replies. “He’s back at the apartment with Ji and Min.” He pauses to stretch lazily. “Thanks again for helping with the move the other day. We still owe you and Kook dinner.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you pay up.” You never turn down a free meal, though honestly, it was enough of a reward for you that you’d gotten to watch your friend Jisoo fall in love with her two boyfriends over the last few months. That’s the word she’d used for them both the other day, when you all helped Taehyung move into Jimin’s place. You hadn’t seen Jisoo this head over heels for anyone since… well, since you’d known her.

Taehyung sips his iced Americano. “What are you working on today?”

“Going over the stuff Felix sent me. We’re meeting with the bank on Tuesday.”

Having Taehyung as your first official customer had been a blessing. After he’d raved about you to the other dancers at Paradise, you’d suddenly found yourself with a whole list of potential clients. There was Felix, who wanted to buy a food truck for his baking hobby and start a brownie delivery service; Namjoon, who was considering creating an urban nursery for the plants he grew in his tiny greenhouse; and Bang Chan, who wanted to discuss the possibility of running his own gym. Even Hoseok wanted to introduce you to a friend of his who was thinking about opening up a male strip club called Outlaws. You’d barely struck out on your own and yet your calendar was already packed.

You pull out your laptop and settle in. “What about you, what’s on your slate today?”

“Just going over some shots.”

The other dancers at Paradise were the best hype team. They’d spread word of mouth about Taehyung’s photography and the studio had been booked since day one. Not that his talent didn’t bring in customers on its own. But it was so touching to see the others rally around Taehyung like that.

The other dancers had also embraced you warmly. You’d already met most of them from your visits to Paradise or the night of Taehyung’s exhibit, but once Jungkook introduced you as his girlfriend, it was like you’d gained an entire family of siblings overnight. And now that you’re on the inside, it’s so easy to see the way they care for one another. No wonder Jungkook loves working there so much.

Well, that, and the tips he makes.

Taehyung slides over so you can see his screen. “It’s Jennie and Yoongi’s session, if you want to take a look.”

“Oh, yes, please!”

Jennie and her husband had recently booked a photography session to announce Jennie’s pregnancy. As Taehyung slowly scrolls through the shots, you try and fail to will yourself not to tear up. Your friend’s baby bump gets bigger every time you see her and it’s unreal to think that it won’t be long until Baby Min is here.

Wordlessly, Taehyung hands you a tissue.

“Thanks.”

After spending so much time with Taehyung over the last few weeks, you understand why Jungkook adores him so much. He has a very comforting presence, which is nice for you right now, since building a company from scratch is a nerve-wracking experience.

“So, tonight’s the night, right?”

Again you grin, nodding. “Yeah.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Excited. But also if I’m being honest, a little scared.”

Everyone - all of your friends and family - has been super supportive for you during this time, lending their help whenever asked. But no one has been more supportive than Jungkook. He’s listened to you rant about your worries and fears at two in the morning when you know he wants nothing more than to hit the pillow and snooze until noon. He’s made you meals when you were too busy to tear yourself away from your computer to eat. He’s spent so much of his own time taking care of you that you started to fret you’d turned into another job for him.

But when you voiced this concern to him, Jungkook shook his head. “Taking care of you isn’t a job,” he’d said. “I do these things because I want to, not because I have to.”

You’ve never known anyone like him before. Never known someone who could be so selfless, so freely giving of himself all the time. So freely giving of his devotion, in every sense of the word. You can’t help but want to worship him yourself.

Despite his claims that he’s doing these things of his own free will, you still feel like you owe him something. A sign of your appreciation. Hence your plans for tonight.

“Why scared?”

You finish your drink, but don’t put the cup down, twirling it in your hands as you think. “What if I make a total ass of myself?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Easy for you to say,” you snort. Of course he’d be confident, if he were in your shoes. Taehyung radiates an aura of exceptional self-assuredness. It’s difficult to imagine him being rattled by anything. If tomorrow he was told that he needed to perform emergency brain surgery, he’d snap on his surgical gloves without so much as batting an eye.

“Listen, I know Jungkook. More importantly, I know how much he loves you.” Taehyung flashes you a reassuring smile as you look at him. “There’s nothing you could do tonight to change that.”

The funny thing is, you’re pretty sure he’s right.

Jungkook’s already making dinner when you get back to his place. The delicious scent of gochujang jjigae draws you into his kitchen, where he stands facing the stove, his back to you. Walking up to him, you can’t resist sliding your arms around his waist.

“Hi,” you sigh, burying your face between his shoulder blades, breathing deep the ocean scent of his cologne.

“Hey jagi,” he hums, a happy note vibrating through his chest as he rests his tattooed hand on top of yours for a second. “Food’s almost ready. Can you grab some bowls?”

As you reach into his cabinet, it strikes you just how domestic this moment is, getting ready for dinner with Jungkook, like you’ve done so many times before. Thankfully, he’s the one who usually does the cooking, while you help however you can (typically just by staying out of his way - it’s what you do best in the kitchen). It’s unbelievable how easily you’ve fallen into this routine with him. Not a trace of fear in you as you reflect on it.

“I wasn’t sure if you were gonna be back in time to eat with me, but I made enough for two just in case.” He joins you at his little table, ladling stew into your bowls, before he takes the seat across from you. He’s dressed like he usually is for work, just a hoodie and sweats, since he’ll be changing into costumes all night.

“You’re too good to me, Kookie,” you simper playfully with a sweet grin, but you really mean it, knowing that if you’d texted him that you wouldn’t be back, he’d still make extra and put it in the fridge for you.

He rolls his eyes, but the tips of his ears betray him, turning pink. The two of you dig into your meal, quietly enjoying the food and each other’s company.

“I meant to ask you,” he says after a few minutes, “do you know when Jin-hyung will be back in town?”

When you’d called things off with Seokjin, you’d made him promise to keep in touch while he was out traveling for his cooking show. He’d taken that pledge to heart, texting you brief updates and sending photos from the road. You’re glad to have made another friend from this whole experience. Especially one whose name you can drop to make hard-to-get dinner reservations. (Seokjin gets a real ego boost when you do that - he’s the one who suggested it in the first place.)

Though things had gotten off to a rocky start between Jungkook and Seokjin, they’d become fairly good friends themselves. It doesn’t really surprise you, since they have more in common than they thought (not even counting you) - both are talented and determined, funny and handsome, not to mention both give a hell of a lap dance. Also, it’s hard not to love Jungkook, no matter how you meet him.

“Um, I think last time I heard from him, he said he’d be back in two weeks for a short break.”

“Good. That should give me enough time to finish.” He doesn’t say anything else, but you can read between the lines so well with him by now.

“Jin’s going to love his portrait,” you reassure him.

As soon as Seokjin had seen Jungkook’s artwork, he’d wasted no time in commissioning the younger man to paint his portrait, to be hung in his newest restaurant. You know that Jungkook is thrilled at the opportunity, but he’s also a little nervous, wanting to impress Seokjin. It’s pretty cute, truth be told.

You glance up to find Jungkook watching you with a small smile.

“What? What are you looking at? Am I a mess?” You grab your napkin, dabbing at your face, but he shakes his head.

“Nothing. I’m happy you’re here. I feel like I’ve barely seen you the last few weeks, you’ve been out working so much.”

“Oh, right.” You scratch your ear, giving him an apologetic look. “I know, I’ve been busy.”

“I’m not saying that’s bad!” Jungkook raises his hands. “I just… missed you.”

“Kookie,” you sigh, heart bubbling over with fondness. Your boyfriend is such a sap.

You set down your spoon and rise to your feet, locking your arms around him. He looks up at you with so much love in his eyes you nearly pinch yourself. But you don’t have to. This isn’t a dream, it’s your life. Silently, you thank the universe for everything you did that led you to this man. Then you press a gentle kiss to his waiting lips.

“I missed you too. But I’m hoping all this will be worth it.”

“It will be, jagiya,” Jungkook asserts, cupping your face gently. “I know it’s hard. But you know what you’re doing. And you’re not alone - you’ve got so many people in your corner. Like me.” He grins, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “I believe in you.”

There’s a sudden lump in your throat, making it impossible to speak, so you let your lips express what you feel. What’s left of your dinner sits forgotten as you climb into his lap, kissing him until you’re both breathless. Only then you’re able to whisper a quiet thank you.

Jungkook’s right. You can do this. Especially with him by your side.

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:15): Are we still on for brunch tomorrow?

Bestie 😇 (8:17): Yes! I miss you guys

Bestie 😇 (8:17): This baby’s not even here yet and they’re already keeping me busy

Bestie 😇 (8:18): Plus I’ve been craving waffles for days

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:19): We miss you too!

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:19): And you too, YN! You work too hard

You (8:20): I know 😔I miss you all too

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:21): I’ll be there!

Queen Ji 👑 (8:22): Yes we’re doing brunch because YN needs to tell us allll about tonight!

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:23): OH THAT’S RIGHT!

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:23): Ahhhh that’s tonight?!

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:23): Break a leg! 🙌

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:24): LET’S GOOOOO

Queen Ji 👑 (8:24): You are going to KILL IT

Bestie 😇 (8:24): *airhorn.gif*

You (8:25): 🙈🙈

You (8:25): We’ll see

You (8:25): But thank you 😘

Queen Ji 👑 (8:26): Oh no! None of that

Queen Ji 👑 (8:26): Trust me, you’ve got this

You (8:27): And just how are you so sure about that?

Queen Ji 👑 (8:28): Jimin told me. He never lies

You (8:29): I knew I should’ve asked Namjoon

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:29): As if he wouldn’t tell me

Sparkling Rosé ✨ (8:30): I like the guy but he can’t keep a secret to save his life

Lovely Lisa 💋 (8:31): Relax, you’re gonna be amazing! Just have fun with it

Bestie 😇 (8:31): Yessssss have fun

Queen Ji 👑 (8:32): But also put your back into it

Bestie 😇 (8:33): You should probably stretch first

You (8:33): Yes, eomma, I will

Bestie 😇 (8:34): I’m going to kindly ask that you never call me that again

You (8:35): But you’ll be hearing it all the time soon!!

Bestie 😇 (8:35): Not from you though! 🙅

Queen Ji 👑 (8:36): Sorry, eomma, we’ll behave

Bestie 😇 (8:37): Oh god, *especially* not from you

Bestie 😇 (8:37): Okay I’m out. I’ll see you all tomorrow. But don’t forget!

Bestie 😇 (8:38): 📣You’ve got this! 📣

Queen Ji 👑 (8:38): She’s the best mom

A few hours later, you find yourself alone in an unfamiliar space. A small room, containing only a handful of pieces of dark furniture. Velvet curtains drape three of the walls, while the fourth is a mirror. A crystalline chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the glass reflecting the soft lighting, scattering shimmering spots of illumination around the room as the bass pumping from the overhead speaker makes the decoration bounce.

You wipe your sweaty palms on the skirt of your dress, wishing you could take your friends’ advice and relax right now. Instead, your nerves are jumpy and your pulse is racing. The waiting isn’t helping.

As you switch seats for the tenth time since you got here (you can’t decide which is a better place to sit, on the pleather couch or the matching chair), you adjust your dress, hoping you look more confident than you feel. Confidence is key for what you’re about to do, according to Jimin.

Maybe you should’ve thought this through more. More practice would’ve been helpful, too. Why did you decide to do this now? You’ve really got to work on your patience, you think, eyeing the couch again before moving seats again.

The curtains sway slightly as the door to the room opens. Immediately your mind empties of all thoughts as your adrenaline kicks in. It’s showtime. You sit up, trying to strike an enticing pose, waiting for the man who opened the door to finish locking it and turn around.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting t- baby??” Jungkook freezes, head cocking to the side in confusion. You knew that Jimin had told him he had a Paradise customer waiting for him in a private room. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise you,” you grin, suddenly feeling really shy. Which is the exact opposite of what you need to feel right now, if you’re going to pull this off. “So, um, surprise!”

Jungkook smiles, obviously thrilled with your surprise, and crosses the tiny space in two strides. You stand to greet him, taking in his outfit, a silky black shirt unbuttoned over a pair of black leather pants. He looks just like he did the night of Jennie’s bachelorette party, only with a new haircut. The fabric of his top is soft beneath your fingertips as you lay your hands on his shoulders, accepting his kiss hello.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but… you know you didn’t have to pay to see me, right?” Jungkook murmurs against your lips. “I’ll dance for you any time.”

You do know that, because he’s danced for you several times now. Sometimes he likes to get your opinions on a new routine, and other times… other times, he just feels like dancing for you.

Knowing all this, you nod, smoothing down the folds in his shirt, trying to distract yourself from the way your stomach is tying itself in knots. Relax, you remind yourself, taking a deep breath. There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s Jungkook.

“I know. But this actually isn’t about me tonight. It’s about you.”

Applying a little pressure on his shoulders, you push Jungkook onto the couch. He looks up at you questioningly, but doesn’t say anything, merely takes a seat. That’s so like him - to read you so well that he understands you’ve got something planned, so he’s letting you lead the moment. Just that tiny act of deference heartens you, leaving you more sure about what you’ve got planned.

You walk over to the panel on the wall that controls the overhead speaker. Your phone is already hooked up, and with a few swipes, you change the playlist.

“I wanted to do something for you, to show you how much I appreciate everything you’ve been doing for me.” For some reason it’s easier to explain why you’re here without looking at Jungkook as you do it, so you fiddle with the phone a little as you speak. “I know the last few weeks have been stressful, because of everything I’m trying to do, and I just… I want to thank you. And I thought this was the best way to do it.”

When you turn back around, Jungkook’s watching you with such a rapt expression that you can’t help but feel almost foolish about being so worried about this. It doesn’t matter if you can’t give him a show on the same level that he does. You’ve got his full attention no matter what you do.

You’ve got his love.

With that comforting thought, you take a steadying breath, in and out, and then begin.

Dancing is really not your strong suit, but the biggest lesson Jimin taught you is that it’s not the moves themselves that matter - it’s the attitude with which you perform them. It’s all about setting a mood.

So you let the music guide you. Let yourself sink into the groove set by the drums and bass. Jungkook lets out a tiny “oh, fuck,” when you start to shake your hips. You fight the urge to giggle, biting your lip in a sultry manner instead. You’re wearing a cute but simple dress, something that will be easy to remove when the time comes, but you dance like you’re dressed in the sexiest outfit imaginable, sliding the skirt up your thighs a little to tease him.

Even though you’re only a few feet away from Jungkook, you take your time approaching him, dragging out the anticipation. His hands rise automatically, reaching for you, but you dodge his grasp, taking them in your own hands instead. Something else Jimin taught you - lay down the rules right away.

“I’m here to dance for you, Kookie. So let’s get one thing straight - I’m the one in charge.” You squeeze his hands to draw his attention to them as you place them at his sides. “That means no touching me, unless I say it’s okay.”

Jungkook blinks at your words, but he doesn’t argue or try again to touch you. “Yes, baby,” he says, eyes brimming with adoration as he nods at you, and again you feel a surge of confidence.

With your back to him, you place a hand on both of his knees, guiding him to spread his legs apart. Then you lower yourself into his lap, laying back against his chest and tilting your face towards his. If either of you leaned forward the slightest bit, your mouths would touch, but you resist the urge, and he waits breathlessly to see what you’re going to do next.

You bring your arm up, then trail your hand down his chest, across your breasts and stomach, and on to his thigh, just skimming past his crotch. His hips buck slightly beneath you, and you grind in his lap, giving him the friction he seeks.

“Don’t worry, I’ll touch you all you want,” you whisper.

Jungkook groans loudly. You glide around the couch until you’re behind him and run your hands down his arms and over his chest. The silk of his shirt is starting to stick to him where he’s sweating. You’ve barely started and you’re already having an obvious effect on him.

It’s not just his temperature that’s rising, you note with a smug smile when you return to your spot in front of him. The tight material of his pants barely restrains his erection. Again you sit on his thighs, facing away from him, throwing your legs out in a wide stance as you pop to the beat.

“Shit, baby, yes,” Jungkook praises you with a deep groan when you lean forward, giving him a good view of your ass as it bounces. “Where’d you learn to dance like this?”

“Well, um…” you pause to bend further, nearly touching the ground, enjoying how Jungkook swears quietly when he gets a glimpse of your panties, “you know how I’ve been so busy lately?”

“Uh-huh…” Jungkook responds mindlessly, far too occupied with the sight in front of him. He’s being so patient, keeping his hands at his side like instructed, but the telltale twitching of his fingers lets you know that he’s fighting hard to behave.

You decide to take pity. Just a little. Turning, you straddle him, and grab his wrists. “Here you go,” you wink, placing his hands on your hips. “Just hold on for me.”

Jungkook hums, vision trailing up your body from where your hips are swaying to where your breasts are now in his face.

“I was working, but I wasn’t at Taehyung’s studio. I was taking some lessons from Jimin.”

He looks up at that. “Wait, you were what?”

The surprise on his face makes you giggle. There’s that wide-eyed Bambi look that you love so much. As the next track on your playlist starts, something a little slower, you shift into a grind, dragging your ass over Jungkook’s lap. He hisses, fingers tightening their grip, almost bruising in their hold, but he doesn’t try to guide you like he usually does when the two of you are in this position. It impresses you, the restraint he’s showing.

It makes you want to make him lose control.

You run your fingers through his hair, lifting it off his face, and lean close to his ear. “I wanted to make this good for you, baby. Give you exactly what you deserve.” Your lips hover across his cheek, not touching, but your breath caresses his skin, making him shudder beneath you.

“Jagi,” Jungkook swallows thickly, eyelids heavy with desire as he peers at you. “You’re amazing. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding these moves from me.”

You bite back another big smile. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

His hands fall from your waist as you spin around, nudging his legs apart. Following the rhythm of the music, you undulate your body down his, your back sliding down his chest, then down his lap, until you’re on your knees. Then you place your hands on the ground in front of you, lowering your bottom half to the floor in a slow humping motion, before flashing him as you whip your legs into a split in order to roll yourself onto your back.

“Holy fuck, jagi,” Jungkook gasps, digging his hands into the couch on either side of his thighs, desperate for something to clutch. “You’re finally gonna do it. You’re going to be the actual death of me.”

Despite yourself, you start giggling. “Kookie! Don’t make me laugh.” You take your time rising to your knees, then to your feet, playing with the hem of your skirt. “I want you to take this seriously.”

“Oh, I am, baby, believe me.” Jungkook bites his lip, nodding. His eyes follow the path your hands take, dragging the skirt up to reveal your lower stomach. Meanwhile, one of his hands has found its way to his crotch, squeezing his hard cock through his pants. You’d considered making another rule earlier, that he couldn’t touch himself, but truthfully, you want to watch him enjoy himself.

“Good boy,” you purr, and Jungkook whimpers loud enough for you to wonder if you’ve tapped into something previously undiscovered about him, but you’re too busy to ponder it any further as you swing your hips, using his knees to help you drop yourself down to the floor again in a low squat.

The power you feel as he watches you is beyond intoxicating. What you’re doing right now is nothing compared to the skill he displays when he dances, but you understand a little better why he does this for a living. You feel like you could do anything right now.

As you come back up, you lean into him, hands on his chest, your face so close to his, and this time the need to kiss him is too strong, so you stop denying yourself, connecting your mouths briefly, just enough to have him chasing you when you pull away. Before he can protest, you distract him by pulling your dress over your head in one swift movement.

“Baby,” he moans, eyeing the matching lingerie set you picked out especially for tonight, his favorite color and his favorite texture, the black lace just begging him to run his fingertips all over it. “Is that new?”

Of course he’d notice. He’s got the contents of your underwear drawer practically memorized. Not surprising since most of the sets are from him. He’s got a thing for nice lingerie and you’re more than happy to indulge him.

“Bought it just for you.” With your back to him, you straddle one of his thighs, centering yourself on the thick muscle, and roll your hips in slow figure eights. Grabbing his hands, you wrap them around you, placing one on your bra and the other just over the band of your panties. “Do you like?”

Jungkook’s answer is a wordless growl as he strokes the lace. You hum, tossing your head back so it rests on his shoulder, and slip the hand over your lower stomach down further, until he’s cupping your mound.

“Ah!” you gasp, hips jutting forward when his eager fingers go rogue and press against you in a sign of his slipping control. “I - I’m guessing that means yes.”

“It means fuck yes,” Jungkook declares. “You’re driving me insane right now, you know that?”

“I think I’m getting the idea,” you reply, trying to focus on finishing your dance and not just outright humping his hand. Tracing your fingernails down his forearms makes him loosen his grip enough for you to climb off him. As the next track plays, you drape yourself over the side of the couch so your back hits his lap, and lie there shimmying to the beat for a few seconds before unhooking your bra and tossing it aside.

“Jagiya,” Jungkook rasps roughly, tongue licking furiously at his lips, and even though you’re only maybe halfway through the routine you’d been practicing, you decide to skip to the end, because clearly your boyfriend is close to breaking, and frankly, so are you.

You throw your leg over his lap, straddling him again. Taking his hands, you lace your fingers together, using him as a counterweight to help you dip backwards, so low your head nearly brushes the ground, before you roll back up, pressing your forehead to his. You stare at his mouth and he stares at yours as you inhale a steadying breath to speak.

“You can touch me now.”

The current of electricity simmering between you suddenly blazes out, igniting the air around you. His hands slide to the small of your back, and your arms loop around his neck, both of you pulling each other as close as possible as you meet in a charged kiss. Jungkook moans into your lips, tongue chasing the sound. Your mouth parts to let him in.

Jungkook’s hands keep moving, gripping your waist, your ass, your breasts - it’s like he’s been starving for you, like those few minutes that he wasn’t allowed to hold you were an eternity and now that they’re over he must take his fill. Your skin vibrates beneath his fingertips, so much pent-up energy ready to burst, and you seek an outlet, grinding your hips down onto his.

“Kookie,” you whine helplessly, and Jungkook grunts in response, rutting his erection against you, fitting between your legs so perfectly, the two of you like puzzle pieces coming together to form a complete picture of lust.

“I’m here, jagi,” he murmurs, lips brushing along your jawline and back to your mouth before continuing down the other side. “I’m here.”

In a second, you’re on your back, watching Jungkook peel off his shirt before he covers your body with his. His kisses are just as greedy as his touches, and you lose yourself in him, devouring the desire on his lips with a wild ravenousness of your own.

But as he trails kisses down your body, you open your eyes and stare directly at the chandelier hanging over you, and a thought hits you with startling clarity - oh, right, you’re still at Paradise. At Jungkook’s place of work.

“Jungkook. Jungkook,” you repeat, threading your fingers through his hair to tug his head off your breast, where his tongue was lapping at your nipple. “Should we do this here?”

Jungkook blinks at you a few times. “Isn’t this - don’t you want to?”

Of course you want to. But all those times you’d pictured this moment, your best hope was that he’d enjoy the dance and promise to thank you in private later when he got off work. You hadn’t really considered that you’d do such an amazing job that the two of you would fuck on the spot. (Okay, that’s a lie, you’d considered it a lot. But still. Imagining fucking your boyfriend at his job and actually fucking your boyfriend at his job are two very different things.)

“I want to,” you reassure him, brushing a wandering drop of sweat from his brow. “I just don’t want to get you in trouble.”

Jungkook laughs, leaning up to press a kiss to your cheek. “Baby, trust me, I’m not the first one to do this. There’s a reason “no sex in the champagne room” is a saying.” He sees the mix of confusion and disgust on your face and laughs again. “I’m not worrying about it and neither should you. But if you are, we don’t have to do anything. This has been more than enough for me.”

“So… you liked your dance?” you ask in a tiny voice.

Jungkook lets out a pained groan. “Baby, I loved it. I can’t believe you did all this for me.” His hand brushes over your hip, playing with the lace there. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Not true.” If anything, he’s the one too good to you. “But I’m trying.”

He kisses you again, slow and sweet. You feel yourself melting into his embrace. Any remaining concerns vanish as Jungkook lowers his head, taking your nipple into his mouth again with a messy kiss. If he’s not worried, why should you be? Besides, as you arch your back, chasing Jungkook’s tongue as he drags it down your torso, only an apocalypse could stop you now, and maybe not even that.

“You know,” you start, gasping slightly when his teeth graze lightly over the swell of your stomach, “I’ve fantasized about this.”

Jungkook glances up at you. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean, I usually pictured you dancing for me, but, um, we always ended up fucking.” A flash of heat licks the back of your neck as you meet Jungkook’s eye.

“That’s usually how I imagine it, too,” Jungkook informs you. The casual admission of this mutual secret fantasy stokes your arousal. Jungkook flames it further when he ruts his hard cock against you. “Sometimes you ride me, sometimes I bend you over this couch, but it always starts with me giving you a private show.”

Your breath leaves you in a hiss. “Fuck. That sounds good.”

“Which one?”

“Both,” you groan, rolling your hips. “All of it.”

Jungkook kisses your neck to smother his laughter. “It’s not too late, you know. I can make those fantasies come true.” His tone deepens as he speaks, becoming darker. Oh, you know this tone so well. He’s shifting to demon mode.

“Another time. I mean,” you clarify immediately, not wanting him to misunderstand, “you can give me a private dance another time.”

“Aww, is my baby too worked up right now?” he teases, and this time he doesn’t bother to even try to hide his laughter when you whine, pressing your hips into him again. “Okay, jagi, I promise I’ll dance for you another time. I won’t make you wait any longer.”

Again he slides down your body, kissing over the soft lace of your underwear. He pulls your thighs apart with his hands so he can stick his face directly between them. His stuttered breath blows hot over the damp material barely covering you. Impatient, you reach to push your panties down, but Jungkook grabs your hands and pins them over your head. “Kook!”

Jungkook shakes his head at your pouty cry. Leaning over you, he catches your bottom lip with his teeth, pulling it to his mouth for another wet kiss.

“Let me, baby,” he coos sweetly, and then he takes the lace band in his teeth and slowly drags your panties down your body using only his mouth.

“Fuck that’s hot,” you moan, unable to tear your gaze away. Jungkook hums, dropping the sodden silk on the ground before lowering his lips to kiss your pussy. He’s sloppy and loud, and in a brief lucid flash of sanity you pray that the music covers the sounds out in the hallway.

Jungkook always moves at his own pace, in his own time, and nowhere is that more evident than the way goes down on you. He loves building you up slowly, so slowly, until you’re going out of your mind begging him to let you cum. Tonight, however, he’s moving fast, slipping two fingers inside you, getting you ready for him. If asked, he’d claim it was for you, but the truth is that he needs you as much as you need him right now.

“Love the way you taste,” he murmurs, fingers spreading you wider, dragging his tongue over your clit. He curls his fingers, smirking at your gasp, and repeats the movement. It feels so good, too good, so your hand snakes out and grabs his wrist, and he stills, looking up at you in confusion.

“Wanna come on your cock,” you explain.

He groans, reclining back on his knees. “Whatever you want, jagiya,” he says, fingers flying to the laces on his leather pants. He’s used to taking his time untying them on stage, drawing the moment out seductively, a marked contrast to the clumsy way he tugs on them now, trying to undo them as quickly as he can.

With only a little bit of struggling, he pushes his pants down, then kicks them off completely. He wraps one hand around his hard length, thumb and forefinger pinching slightly just below the flushed head. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare at him, taking in sight of this gorgeous man kneeling between your legs, looking every bit as hungry as you feel.

“Tell me how you want it.”

You clench unconsciously at Jungkook’s command, mind running through all the possibilities. Honestly, you don’t care how, you just need him inside you now.

So you reach out, gently prying his fingers away from his cock. Jungkook sighs when you take it in your hand, a sound of deep-seated contentment, like he’s been waiting all night for you to touch him. You understand the sentiment, thighs twitching as you slowly pump him a few times, using his slickness to make your movements easier.

“Just like this,” you say, guiding him towards your slit. He hisses as you slide his head through your folds, and presses forward a bit, helping you coat him in your arousal.

“Okay, jagiya,” he murmurs. He arranges himself between your legs, lifting one calf, then the other, over his broad shoulders. You shiver, breathless with anticipation as you catch the feral glint in his eyes. “Just like this.”

A harmonious pair of moans fill the room when he enters you. He waits for a moment, because as rushed as his fingering was, it wasn’t enough to fully stretch you out enough for him. When you whisper, “okay,” he starts to move. The first few rolls of his hips are slow and easy, him savoring the tight warmth of your cunt around him, you delighting in the sensation of being filled so completely. He kisses the side of your knee, staring down at you as you whimper beneath him with every languid thrust.

When your hands stretch out for him, he leans down, bending you in half to press his mouth to yours. He sinks deeper into you, your bodies locking together more closely, and you lace your fingers through his hair, until you’re breathing each other’s kisses like air. You whisper Jungkook’s name and he sighs yours back.

“Love you so much, jagi.”

His mouth nudges your head to the side in search of that sensitive spot behind your ear, and you open your eyes to catch sight of the two of you in the mirror. Even if the room were pitch black right now, you’d be able to see yourself lying there, the way you’re lit from within. Your love for Jungkook burns inside you like a star in the night sky, pulsing bright and steady.

“I love you, too.”

Jungkook’s pace steadies, his pelvis starting to bounce off your ass with more speed.

“Oh, fuck, yes, baby,” you moan, watching him piston his cock inside you. “More, please, Kookie! More!”

Never let it be said that your boyfriend doesn’t listen. He pulls out, getting off the couch, and, with strong hands gripping your thighs, positions you with your hips resting on the arm of the couch, to raise you high enough for him to plunge back in from a standing position.

And then he gives you exactly what you asked for.

Jungkook fucks you hard and fast. His furrowed brow drips with sweat as he snaps his hips into you. You know nothing could break his concentration now - eyes sharply focusing on your expression, ears listening for the change in the pitch of your voice. When he feels your walls starting to constrict, he grips your thighs to tilt you just enough to find the right angle to tap your sweet spot with every pump -

“Jungkook!” With a loud gasp of his name, your climax arrives. Your cunt pulsates so tightly around him that Jungkook clamps his arms around your legs, pulling your ass flush against him so he can grind into you.

“Oh, fuck, jagi, ‘m so close.” His voice is already wrecked, sounding rough and broken. He bends slightly at the waist, forcing your legs closer to your stomach, putting you at an odd angle, but you’re still buzzing with pleasure so you don’t notice the stretch, just let out a low moan as Jungkook starts to move again.

He bends further, sliding his hands behind your back, and then he lifts you, using that surprising strength of his to hold you as he slides around to sit on the couch. Your legs support you just long enough to straddle him, and then you sink down onto his cock, more than happy to collapse against Jungkook as he fucks up into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants, bringing one of his hands up to cup your cheek. “Always so good, jagi.” You meet his gaze, struck by the love you see in his eyes. No matter how often he looks at you like this, it makes your heart sing every time. You kiss him before sitting up, meeting his thrusts with your own movements.

“Come for me, Kookie,” you murmur sweetly, drawing your boyfriend’s eye with the movement of your hand as it heads down your stomach. Your fingers rub at your clit, rolling the engorged nub around, and the delicious drag of his cock inside your constricting walls has you hurtling towards a second orgasm just as Jungkook reaches his first.

Your playlist begins the last song as the two of you cling to each other on the couch. Jungkook’s arms are still locked around your back while you rest your head on his shoulder. He sings along quietly to the music, his soothing voice wrapping around you like a blanket. It’s a favorite song of his, just as it’s a favorite of yours - the song from your rooftop dance at Jennie and Yoongi’s wedding.

When the music ends, Jungkook sighs. “We should definitely do this again.”

You laugh, sitting up. He grins at you and you lean forward to press a light peck to the tiny mole under his lip. “I may have booked you all night.”

“Like I was gonna let you walk out of here anytime soon,” he scoffs. He stops your giggling with his kiss, lips soft and lingering, and you sigh, hugging him close again.

There’s a part of you that can’t believe you just fucked your boyfriend in a strip club, but somehow it felt inevitable that you two would end up here like this. Like from the moment you walked in here all those months ago, there was no other way this would go.

It was such a strange trip to think about. You had to go all the way to Paradise to meet the love of your life who lived next door. Fate could really take the most roundabout way, but the journey was more than worth it.

“You really didn’t have to do all of this for me.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to the moment.

“I want to do everything for you,” you reply with a shake of your head. “You deserve the world, Kookie.”

“I have everything I could ever want, jagiya. Right here in my arms.”

Normally, this is where you would roll your eyes at him for being so sappy, but that’s hard to do when you’re blinking back tears. Instead, you squeeze him a little tighter, so he knows that you feel the same way.

“You know…” Jungkook starts after a few seconds, then stops. You shake him a little to urge him to go on. “There is something else I’ve been thinking about. Something I want to do, but I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it.”

“What is it?”

He glances down, and there’s the shy bunny smile that you remember from all those months ago. “I’d love to paint you.”

“Naked?” you whisper, hand to your chest, looking scandalized.

He laughs, nose wrinkling in glee. “That actually wasn’t what I meant but I’m absolutely down if you are.”

“We’ll see,” you grin, kissing his cheek. “One thing at a time. Right now, we’ve got this room to ourselves, and I believe you promised me a dance.”

“Yes I did,” Jungkook agrees, chin jutting out to catch your next kiss with his lips. “Anything for my love.”

“I love you, too,” you sigh, kissing him back.

************************************************************************

A/N 2: Yes, there will still be some drabbles down the line, but this is the end of the main story! Thank you for sticking with me! 💕

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #thebtswritersclub #fic: paradise

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court-jobi · 2 months ago

Text

Reheat

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader (support-hero!reader x teacher Izuku)

Words: 2.5k

Rating: G~

Warnings: comfort fic, tooth-rotting fluff here y'all, established relationship, work stress (livin' vicariously), talks of the future, a few fem pronouns used, but generally gender-neutral

Summary:

Izuku letting himself into your home after a long day has become comfortable background noise, and one you love to hear while you're bogged down. Work has been following you home all week. He's proud of you, without a doubt... But equally concerned when he sees your dinner half-eaten, your mind scatterbrained and racing faster than he can anchor you, and your angel eyes in desperate need of some TLC. He's cemented his place in your heart- and sees no reason he can't make himself at home here already.

A/N: do I have bigger fics in mind? Yes. Did I write this instead of sleeping bc I love soft, encouraging Deku? Also yes. Izuku Midoriya is a motivational speaker.

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

“Hey honey! I’m here!”

Over the tinny, background chatter of a podcast streaming from your phone, you call back to Izuku letting himself in.

“Hey you~” You throw interest into your voice, but still stayed tuned into your work.

“Ooo what’s this… What did you make here on the stove?”

“Risotto– it’s Italian~ has lots of veggies and good stuff in it,” you didn’t stop your typing pace, engrossed too heavily in getting an email out before you forget about it and Gmail has to ‘nudge’ you, again, “-gave it a Japanese spin with what I had in the house.”

“Oh wow– oh my gosh, honey– this is so good!”

You look up since your darling man has just appeared in your doorway, sparkly eyed to see you, but equally sated by what’s just graced his mouth. It was a meal you could babysit between taking a quick shower, getting ready for work, letting its flavors marry in the fridge throughout the day, and popping back on the stove that night.

“I’m glad, happy you like it~”

“D’you eat?” Izuku asks, midbite.

“Mhm. Little bit ago,” You motion to your bowl- but when he comes alongside you, he tuts over noting it's only half empty.

“You didn't finish- you feelin’ ok?”

Having circled back onto your screen, you double take again, this time caught by his perception check over you and feeling guilty.

“Oh. Guess I didn't. I’ll nuke it up here in a bit.”

Izuku, setting down his bowl and starting the -normally alluring- task of rolling up his shirt sleeves to his forearms, comes to your side. However since you’re paying little mind to your peripherals, you missed the show the was making of it. A simple ask of ‘what’re you working on’ came from him, sounding no different than if he wasn't trying to make eyes at you; fact was, you just weren't paying attention.

“Just some stuff for the interns,” the sight of how many tabs are open on your split screen -and in your mind- make you sigh, “With this new role, I kinda feel like you some days. Lesson plans, processing their paperwork; it’s all the stuff you had to turn in as an intern– only now I'm the one dealing with it on the backend.”

Izuku sifted around though your training materials and your propped tablet making itself useful as a second screen. At your handwritten to-do list that’s one of the only things non-digitized nowadays, he makes an offhand comment that your handwriting is nice. It's the kind of cute, ‘blink-and-you’d-miss-it’ things he says that you just hum to, whether you were really listening or not.

When you glance up to him again, you see he’s watching you with a caring gaze and feel caught.

“What’re you looking at?” you tease, typing again to break the silence.

“A pretty girl…” Izuku teased lightly, “who doesn’t know when to take a break.”

You type away at his call out– the need for a night off at Izuku’s side is exactly why you've been working so hard at this. You figured you'd get some of this extra prep work under control now, so by the time he rolls around on Wednesday for your standing date n–

You freeze.

Realizing what day it is in your planner. It's Wednesday. For dinner.

“Oh my God- -you’re here.”

“Mhmmm~” Izuku really doesn't want to laugh, but his sucking in of a lip isn't hiding it well.

“ohmygod imtheworst!!” you refresh your face in both hands, talking through the gaps.

“You are not!” Izuku chuckled, setting your notes down. “You just got busy with all the new tasks, because you’re just that good.”

A faithful, scarred hand comes over to smooth over your back, pulling you over into a little half hug. You sink against him, relishing in his little forehead kiss. He can try all he likes to cure your embarrassment, but you look to him apologetically.

“I’ve never forgotten our dinner dates, ‘Zuku…”

Your darling shrugged unbothered, “Had to happen sometime. It’s no big deal.”

“Is to me,” you pressed- very much bothered.

“Honey,” Izuku chips your chin up, “You’re too hard on yourself. It’s ok, these things happen! I mean, you still made a delicious dinner; even if it was a bit of an oversight I would -in fact- be eating it.”

The pang of guilt hits you at forgetting. This was just a symptomatic sign that the brilliance of your taking on the additional role of Education Coordinator at the agency was perhaps an over-zealous one. Not only to be on-call for your base job as a linguistics quirk specialist, but to balance another full time role on the office hours end? Why did you convince Fatgum this was a good idea? It sounded like a stellar idea back at the beginning of the summer…

Now you’re forgetting not just who you’re supposed to be eating with- but also eating in general.

“I’m glad you did,” you boost Izuku’s elephant-like memory, “It feels so normal to have you here, it's not like I completely forgot I’d see you today. I just– maybe I… thought I was gonna take some to you, since I wouldn't see you till later in the week? I dunno.”

“C’mere- never got a real hug.”

You rise at his hand’s insistence, and stretch up into his full, healing embrace.

“Hi baby,” you cooed pitifully.

“Hi, my angel. Missed you today.”

You hummed at the affection, sinking into his neck more out of your residual misery.

Izuku simply took advantage of you being close to sway you in his wide stance- a dance, sans music.

“I appreciate you cooking so much for us,” he spoke gently from his perch over your shoulder, “I was looking forward to it all day, y’know? You’re always so thoughtful with everything you make.”

He’s pressing into you with compliments- against your hard wiring to accept…

“‘Zuku.”

“It’s true~ you’re generous! You remember what my favorites are, and leave out the stuff I don’t like; you even send me leftovers. And you make snacks and treats for when the midnight munchies strike– what can’t you do?”

“Zuku…”

“And you–” he runs a hand through your hair as he sways your shy self back and forth, “-- make for the most funny, beautiful, fascinating, most inspiring company I could ever hope to share a meal with.”

Head thunking onto his shoulder, you playfully land a closed fist on his chest with a muffled, whiny plea for him to stop.

He sighs, all in good humor.

“This streak of yours... I really have my work cut out for me, don’t I? Still can’t imagine how bad it must be in that brilliant mind that my incredible girlfriend has such a hard time accepting the tiniest compliment. Maybe it’s all that late night American comedy you watch...”

You exhale then fix him with your coolest look of sarcasm, anything to show that you have a modicum of having your shit together. So you cope with humor- who doesn't?

–shame that it looks too much like a pout and makes you decidedly not threatening at all, because Izuku just beams brightly at you in response.

“Oh! Now there’s my melty princess- I was wondering where she went.”

And at that, the aloofness was gone, and you snort into a laugh and hug him tighter around the neck. He even scoops you up and gives you one little twirl for good measure.

When he set you down, Izuku cups your face in his hands and gifts you a few more forehead kisses before demanding your sights.

“Now. We need to get you to finish eating first. Then, what can I do to help you tonight, hm? How can I make things easier for you?”

With a softer eye to your desk’s work, you sat back down staying connected to your ever doting Izuku by way of your hand in his. You tried again to focus back. You're newly refreshed by his affections and attempt for a more positive outlook,

“Well, my goal of doing this tonight was so that I didn’t have to go in early tomorrow. Course, if I do run myself ragged tonight, I won't be any good to anyone there– or for you, here. But I think if I pare it down to just getting these e-sigs ready and getting their time-in checklists set up for their work study onboarding, that would give me a good enough start, and I can fill in the rest of their packets tomorrow. But that means I’d need -ugh- maybe… another hour of work tonight?” you looked to him for his approval, “I have a template, so it shouldn’t take me forever.”

“Alright! You’re the boss,” Izuku supported your plan with a smile, “How about I take care of the kitchen for you while you finish up?”

“You do not have to clean my kitchen!” you spouted back, offended– causing a laugh to burst from him, “It’s not funny! I didn’t ask you to come over after a day of work yourself to just slave away at my mess.”

Izuku fixed you a look, as if you knew better.

“I think I can tidy up a kitchen, no matter how busy of a day I’ve had. Yours isn't even over yet- so when precisely were you going to have the energy to hammer at it? You’ll enjoy not having that mountain waiting for you.”

You huffed, but smiled gratefully all the same.

“Besides, it’s just me- doing something nice for the woman I love; and I happen to like doing nice things for you. You deserve a clean space, hun.”

He cleared off your previous bowl to reheat along with your empty water cup. Shaking the hollow straw inside to where it clinks, he knows exactly what you need and tells you so.

“You are getting a screenless break first, though. Something tells me you didn’t the first time around~”

Settled with a fist propping up your face, you swooned over this darling man.

Trusting Autosave to have done its job, you shut the laptop down blindly, “Sure didn’t~”

Izuku just rolled his eyes and stepped out of the study.

You neaten up the collated stack of applications laid out by you and stepped over to the couch, taking a kneeling perch on the end while you sought out a new record for the player on the side table. Setting one on, it was able to fire up and fill some new life into the room with a movie score you haven’t listened to in a while. Everything just sounds better on vinyl.

When Izuku came back in the room, he’d found his houseshoes and returned with renewed interest to your music choice- and with a pleased expression seeing you actually lounging and taking things easier than how he found you. He traded your reheated meal in exchange for your blue-light glasses, which he’d then clean with a pocket square and set back on your desk once they were smudgeless.

“Now, that’s a better sight~ here you go, all set for later.”

You enjoyed Izuku’s company while finishing dinner, listening to him outline his workday while he cradled your legs in his lap. He'd had a pleasantly eventful one, with plenty to say about it. You’d play ‘two truths and a lie’ sometimes when he didn’t want to bore you with a particularly mind-numbing schedule, which pleased you just as well. You excelled at it, while he gave away his fictions every time- a terrible liar for the game, but great for a faithful partner, you reasoned. You truly loved hearing him talk and talk, your love only growing at the domesticity of this feeling and never wanting that to change.

Once you were done, you were honestly content to hear him continue his tangent, but it seems his inner discipline was stronger than yours.

“Alright, now to attack that sink~”

You bemoaned again for his sake. But since you made such a small, affected noise, Izuku paused mid-rise, and sat back down a bit closer to you. He stretched an arm over the back of the couch, encouraging you to come closer and met you for a sweet kiss in the middle.

His mere presence reverted you to a younger self sometimes– one desperate for his attention, good or bad. It wasn't the loveliest impulse, but he clearly thinks it's all part of your charm seeing as he gives in every time, anyway.

“Thing is,” Izuku spoke softly while adoring the hand now placed in his, “If things keep going the way I think they’re going -the way I hope they’re going- it’s.. not hard to imagine that there’s gonna be both our dishes to clean up all the time. In our kitchen, in our home someday. So this is just practice, right? Seems perfectly normal to me. How it should be.”

That idea bloomed in your chest, the thought of sharing a home with him- where this exchange of chores and time together could be your new normal. Only it would be a future where he didn’t have to leave at the end of the night and go back to a bed with compact, collegiate-designed storage at the campus accommodations he stays in on the instructor's wing. He’s got enough to get him by, but he noticeably prefers your home here closer to downtown.

“And what happens when we both wanna ditch the dishes?” you countered sweetly.

Izuku smirked, “That’s what a dishwasher is for. Another thing we’d own together…”

“Forward thinking, there.” You relished that idea.

Izuku nuzzled your forehead thoughtfully.

“You’ve been doing things on your own for a long time– and it shows, sweetheart.”

His words came carefully, from a tender place spoken in confidence between you, referring to when you’ve spent other late nights like this one fueled with hot tea and a desire to keep ignoring the clock.

“And I know you’ve been used to that since you’ve been traveling so much, not even having roommates to help keep you company or lighten the load. I keep wishing I could have known you sooner, had more time with you before you had to learn some of those things the hard way… but I’m happy I get the chance to, now. I’m here now, and you’re not alone, so I hope you’ll let me take care of you when I can.”

With another happy sigh forcing your eyes shut, the mental will it took to not let the tears of a perpetual eldest daughter leave you was intense.

Izuku Midoriya never failed to hit the nail on the head when it came to pep talks; he does the same with his students. But why his ones aimed at you had to have a Full Cowling dash of heartfelt anecdotes in it, you don't know. But you're grateful. You're so grateful for him.

“If you don’t quit talkin’ like that, Izuku, I will never let you leave this condo.”

He chuckled again, lifting your cheek for another kiss, “Twist my arm, love.”

Ultimately, he rose to quit distracting you, but not without you watching him leave with a hunger you’d never felt for another soul before.

#izuku midoriya #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mha fanfiction #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha #bnha #izuku fluff #midoriya fluff

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erwinsvow · 9 months ago

Text

𝐢 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮

summary: jj's made a bad habit of sneaking into your bedroom at midnight.

word count: 3.5k

now spinning: radio by lana del rey

author's note: finally some jayj!! <3 writing this felt like coming home. i hope i did him justice! tags: adorably in love jj and reader. smut but make it cute (heavy grinding/petting, jj calls you princess b/c duh<3, he uses a condom bc no breeding kink here! jj sucks your tits through your (his) shirt because..yah)

JJ makes his way into the window of your bedroom, trying to be as quiet and careful as he can.

You stand back a little, trying to give him enough room to get in, but just as he swings his other leg over, he stumbles and a small succulent in a ceramic pot on your windowsill goes flying.

You freeze, scared that the thud of his leg on the window frame was enough to wake up your parents—who unfortunately share the room right next to you. JJ’s hands stick out immediately to catch the little plant, and then somehow, he juggles it into place while steadying his feet.

You let out a sigh of relief, and he places the little plant safely on your nightstand.

“That thing’s a troublemaker. It’s always the quiet ones, huh?” He whispers, already knowing from all the previous times how thin your walls are.

Time before last, he leaned back against the headboard too hard while you were riding him, and just the noise of it hitting the wall was enough to result in a knock on your bedroom door. He blames you for that one, though, and the next time your parents come in, they notice you’ve moved your bed across the room.

“This one was your fault,” you reply, unsurprisingly giddy now that your boyfriend is here.

“Nuh-uh, princess, that was all you. Why’d you leave the cactus there, huh? You tryna get me caught?”

You shake your head but you can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face and the quiet laugh from escaping, trying to explain that it’s not a cactus, but the words melting on your tongue. You watch as JJ carefully closes the window—he’d prefer to leave it open so he can sneak back out without much noise, but you get cold, so he pushes it down as gently as he can.

You can’t help it—you always end up staring, eyes fixated on his arms and the way they stretch and flex while he adjusts your pink curtains and makes sure no one can see inside. You don’t care if the neighbors watch. Let them, you think, JJ and I will give them a show.

He turns around to really take a look at you, mind always going a mile a minute thinking about how deep of a slumber your parents might be in, if he remembered to grab a condom (he’d forgotten it earlier in the month and you’d been so disappointed, he had to eat you out for an hour just to apologize), and then he thinks he wouldn’t be so upset if he did forget it. Finally he wonders if you have any snacks in your bedroom, which you normally don’t, but he’s feeling hungry today.

When he finally takes you in, you’re standing there with that pretty smile he loves so much, the sleep sets you used to wear every night forgone for one of his big t-shirts instead, the ones with tiny holes near the hem, one that’s probably been passed around between him, Pope, and John, but has now ended up in your closet as a permanent piece.

You told him a story a while back, about how your parents question why you never put on pajamas straight after dinner anymore, like you used to. It’s because JJ’s shirts are your pajamas now and you can’t let them see.

“Why don’t you just, y’know, change after they go to bed?” He asks after hearing that story, rubbing the small of your back under the very same shirt, wondering how smart a girl as you are didn’t think of that idea first.

You don’t answer straight away, instead pressing your face further into his chest and inhaling that scent which is so uniquely JJ—ocean and sand and that car smell since he was probably working on something before getting his favorite text of any night from you, from anyone, really—They just went to bed.

You mumble something into the skin of his sternum, unintelligible and quiet, and he has to use his other hand to move your head up.

“Sorry, princess, getting some static here. Repeat that for me?” He cups his ear to listen in, which makes you laugh.

“Just wanna feel close to you,” you repeat, even softer, immediately resting your face back on his chest once you finish.

You’re sure he doesn’t understand what you mean, because it’s deeply rooted in you, that you hate the way your parents treat JJ. They’re not so rich or Kooky to judge him for not being so, and they’re overprotective of you, always have been, but they act so differently around him. They barely give him a chance, no matter how much you affirm that you’re so happy, that you’re only that way because you’re with JJ now.

They look at the stuff that doesn’t matter—the motorcycle he rides, ignoring the pretty pink helmet he got for you sitting next to his own. They don’t know that he worries about keeping you safe, so much so that he borrows the Twinkie twice as much as he used to, because the idea of you getting hurt on his bike scares him. It scares him enough that he didn’t let you ride with him forever, that it took months of begging to even make him consider the idea.

They look at his clothes and his shoes and don’t like that they can’t invite his parents over for dinner, don’t like the idea of you going to his place but don’t like him coming over either. When they do finally grant your permission to hang out with him at your home, you have to stay in the living room the whole time, television on and playing some stupid movie you could care less about—but at least JJ’s here, at least he’s holding you.

You feel embarrassed, about the reason why you wear his shirt, about how your parents behave, about how you can’t do anything at your house but watch reruns and eat some snacks, your parents wafting in every now and then to make sure nothing’s changed.

And he tries, he really does, which makes your heart thud and causes a warm, happy tingle to extend from your ears to your toes. He shows up with flowers for the house, a bottle of wine for your parents, a bone for your dog.

He’s trying to save up for a car so your parents don’t associate him with the roar of his bike taking off and the danger he’s putting their daughter in (you almost cry when he tells you this, partly because it’s so sweet, partly because you love that bike, love everything about that bike—your pink helmet, holding onto JJ’s stomach on a ride, the way he sometimes props you up on it and tells you he’ll reward you if you’ll be good for him—which you always are.

Putting on other clothes—clothes that don’t belong to JJ—in front of your parents so they don’t feel uncomfortable at the sight of you in his shirt, is a sacrifice you refuse to make. It’s your way of rebelling, as insignificant and silly as it is, affirming that you’re not gonna cave and end your relationship because they don’t approve. It’s hard, for a people-pleaser like yourself, taking a stand against your parents. You don’t possibly expect him to understand, but you think he does that day, with the way he smothers you in kisses all night, and continues the affection on your sofa the next day, no matter who’s watching.

He snuck in that night too—pulling a pair of socks from his pocket for you.

“Got you some more clothes of mine, so you can take your little stand without it being so obvious-” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because you leap into his arms to hug him so tightly, he can’t catch his breath for a minute.

That had been months ago. Since then, you and JJ spent nearly every other night together, trying as hard as possible to stay quiet and not get caught. He seems more worried about it than you do, like tonight.

“Your dad doesn’t have any firepower in the house, right? Like any bazookas or something?” he asks, walking closer to you, away from the window. You shake your head, laughing silently. It’s harder and harder not to be all smiles around JJ anymore. “Good,” he says, not as quietly as before. He brings you in for a hug, arms tight on your back, face buried in your hair. “Missed you, baby.”

You hold on with your little grip for as long as you can, finding it even harder to let go after hearing him say those words—you’d seen him earlier today, briefly, but this was his first time sneaking in since yet another scare a few days ago.

You only pull away because he does, taking off his hat and setting it on your yellow quilt. He sits down, beckoning you over, and you respond immediately, crawling into his lap like you always do. You could sit like this forever.

“It should be illegal for us to go this long without seeing each other,” he murmurs against your shoulder, before pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. His shirt hangs off of you, giving him easy access.

“I saw you this morning, silly,” you whisper, not moving, head buried into his neck.

“For like a minute,” his hands go to your hips, adjusting your position to get you more comfortable in his grip. His fingers press into the skin there, available since you were only wearing panties under his shirt, no shorts to get in the way. “Can’t do anything to you in a minute.”

“That’s not what I remember—” but before you can finish, he silences you with a kiss, soft and chaste.

“Hey,” he starts, while you begin to giggle at the memory. “I thought we weren’t gonna bring that up anymore. S’your fault, anyways.” He trails off, kissing you again. “That sundress has magic in it, or something, not normal-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, deepening the kiss, your whole face feeling hot now at the mention of the memory—the first time the two of you had done anything more than making out.

“Woah, woah,” he says, pulling away again, making you groan in frustration. “Did you lure me here under false pretenses? Are you tryna take advantage of me right now? Because I came here to cuddle-”

“Shut up, Jayj,” and you go back to finish your kiss, your hips moving by themselves. You don’t realize you’re doing it, you never do, until JJ tells you. His hands move down, grabbing the fat of your ass and squeezing while he makes you do all the work, for now, at least.

You work yourself up quickly, you always do when you’re with him, and you could finish just like this if he lets you, grinding your cunt against his hard-on, multiple layers of clothes between the two of you.

He likes to see you get worked up, so he’ll let you do it for a little bit longer, lips still attached, his tongue in your mouth. He slides his hand around where your panties rest on your hip, knotting his fingers between the fabric, his other hand resting on your hip and loosely guiding your motions.

“Feel good, baby?” he finally asks, not loud but not as quiet as before, either. You don’t care much at the moment.

“Uh-huh,” you whine, feeling yourself get closer, something in your stomach winding up tensely and making you want to increase your speed. You try, but JJ’s hand controls you, tightening up and squeezing like it’s a warning—slow down.

“Can’t make a mess like this, remember, pretty girl?” he asks but you’re only half there, half paying attention. Your eyes are squeezed shut, skin feeling so ablaze that you’re sure there’s beads of sweat lining your neck and face, hands gripping the material of JJ’s shirt while you rock yourself back and forth.

He watches carefully, eyes raking in your pretty face all twisted like this, your lips swollen and red from the biting since you can’t make any noise, your hardened nipples poking through the material of his shirt. He wants to wrap his mouth around one and play with it using his tongue, not even bothering to lift the shirt out of the way, but he refrains, since he knows you’ll cum in seconds if he does, and if you cum, he’ll cum.

“Don’t care,” you exhale, breathy and pitchy. He doesn’t even remember what you’re talking about. “I want your mess-” and your head tips forward, resting on his shoulder while he still moves you with his big hands.

It’s all of it, all at once—the fact that you haven’t been able to do much of anything, but especially this, with JJ in days, how hard he is and how good it feels to rub your pussy against him instead of your pillow, the fact that despite his shorts and your underwear in the way, you can almost feel the veins of his pretty dick, the ridge that usually has him slapping a hand over your mouth because you can’t help the noises that come out when you feel it inside you.

You’re so close—and you don’t care about the condom, about how everything’ll be sloppy and sticky after this, so you try to go even faster, until you feel the entirely too-strong hands of your boyfriend manhandling you, pulling you off and laying you flat onto the bed in one motion.

“Wha- Jayj,” you whine again, so much louder than you thought it would come out. Your heart’s thrumming in your ears, brain turned to mush and clit throbbing from the sudden lack of contact.

“Shh, baby, you’re gonna get us both killed-” and you look up at him with wet eyes and your signature pout, the one that gets you anything you want—midnight trips for ice cream, convincing him to sleep over even when he knows your parents will pop in when it’s morning, going on a ride on his bike when he’d thought it was way too dangerous. “M’giving you what you want, okay, so settle down-”

You try to be as good as you can, watching patiently while your thighs tremble and an uncomfortable, hot wetness pools between your legs. JJ pulls off his shirt, frees his dick from the constraint of his shorts, and lets out a little hiss when he sees the wet spot on his clothes from where you were just having fun.

“Dirty girl,” he says, but he’s smiling, not upset. “Made a mess already, even without me.” You let out more shaky breaths at his words, half-listening, eyes focused on the pink color of his thick cock, the way he strokes himself before putting the condom on. Your mind has turned off, every single thought except JJ leaving your head.

“Gonna be quiet this time?” he asks softly, lining himself up with your wet cunt, eyes almost rolling back into his head at the way you suck him in. You’re all tense, stomach in knots and pussy clamping just thinking about every inch he’s going to give you, the stretch he puts your tight hole through. You don’t mind much though.

“Your fault,” you mumble, in a daze. You love everything about JJ, the way his hair falls over his eyes when he’s hovering over you like this, when he licks his lip when he rakes his gaze across your body, how he smirks at you when you get like this.

He lowers his face close to yours and your eyelids flutter shut, expecting a kiss, but instead he buries his face into the crook of your neck, biting and sucking on the skin while you try to stay silent, and then he buries himself into you, all the way all at once, and you strangle a scream back so it dies in your throat.

It’s like it’s the first time, every time, with the way he feels inside, the way you’ve never really gotten accustomed to how big JJ is.

“Sure, baby, my fault,” he finally agrees, letting go of the hold his teeth have on your skin. That'll leave a bruise tomorrow, and the rush he feels from that goes straight to his dick. “This one’s my fault too.”

You don’t pay attention to his words or the stinging sensation on your neck, because the entirely overwhelming feeling of JJ inside you, slamming in and out while you’re forced to stay silent, fogs your brain. JJ hovers over you, and your hands find their way around his neck, snaking into his hair, pulling gently while he lowers himself for another kiss—hot, wet, even messier.

He keeps you this way often, so he can swallow your moans and let you be as loud as you need without much as much of a risk. Your bedroom fills with the slap of skin on skin, his hips ramming against yours.

You’d cry out because it hurts, but the way JJ fills you is anything but painful—it’s excruciatingly good, makes your toes curl while you feel that tense knot in your stomach beginning to unravel by itself, JJ hitting that sensitive part of you deep inside.

But it’s always more than that—it’s his the messy press of his fingers against your clit, the way he dips his head and takes your pert, clothed nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue, and then when he hears you getting loud, he goes back to kissing you, quieting you. He thinks about everything so you don’t have to, heading tipping back onto the pillow and squeals leaving your mouth without a second thought.

You knead your fingers into his hair, holding him in place so he doesn’t pull away from the kiss, because you know you’re about to get loud.

He does pull away—easily fighting your weak grip to bring his mouth to your neck, kissing the love-bites he already left there. You feel JJ’s hot breath on your ear, already a mess, already close, but you tip over the edge when he talks to you, as quiet as he can.

“Come on pretty girl, make a mess for me-” and you follow his instructions without another moment’s hesitation, the walls of your pussy fluttering and then clamping tight around him, moans swallowed into his mouth as he kisses you again. You writhe around, toes curling, entire body tensing, staring up at your pretty boyfriend for as long as you can before your eyes shut, mind numb from pleasure.

It doesn’t take much for JJ after that—the feel of your nails scratching his back, how your pussy clenches around him, the moans he wishes he could hear loud and clear. In a final lustful, selfish thought, he imagines you screaming under him, begging for more, not satisfied until he makes a mess inside your little cunt and fills you up. He spills into the condom seconds after, grunting into your neck and wishing the two of you were anywhere else but the bedroom next to where your parents are asleep.

The room is silent again, save for the heavy breaths leaving both of you. JJ moves first, carefully settling next to you because the bed creaks on his side. He sits up against the headboard, safe because they’re on the opposite wall now, and moves your tired, languid body into his arms, head resting against his chest.

“Well, you made a mess, alright. Hope you do your own laundry.” You giggle, hand coming up to rest above his heart, fingers tracing patterns into his soft skin.

He sighs quietly, a gentle sign he likes your touch. You could fall asleep in minutes like this, the heat from JJ keeping you warm, the content feeling in your heart making you smile dopily. JJ notices, leaning down to give you another kiss.

He stares into the distance with a hand stroking your back, under his shirt. He looks around your cute room—the overflowing bookshelf, the photos taped up on the walls (mostly of the two of you, he thinks with a touch of smugness), a pile of his shirts that are now your sleep clothes folded neatly in your hamper, freshly laundered.

JJ thinks he’d do anything to stay like this, with you resting in his arms, forever.

“I’m gonna do it, I swear,” he starts, not as quietly as before. It’s a gentle sentiment, like he’s reading you a vow. “I’ll do anything I have to, I’ll make ‘em like me. One day I’ll show up here and they’re gonna be happy to see me. I’m gonna get better.”

“You’re already perfect, Jayj,” you whisper back, eyes closed because you feel tears lining up. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You don’t have to do anything. I love you.”

He smiles again, eyes closing. He’s about to say it back when there’s a sharp knock on your door, and the handle starts to turn.

#<3 #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #obx #i really liked writing this!!! thoughts?

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loaksky · 11 months ago

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no thoughts other than professor!abby / coworker!abby and the holiday stocking ! this is like 80 percent backstory bc who am i to not blabber about my new favorite trope...full length fic abt them in the works oops! not proofread + no warnings other than language!

tlou masterlist | main masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔ first let’s set the scene by establishing that abby’s probably a tenure-track professor in a hyper specific literature study or maybe cross-teaches a course or two in the women and gender studies department. you’re a new educator probably teaching english 101?

⋆.ೃ࿔ abby first sees you at the faculty meeting for her department during the late summer and is immediately enamored.

⋆.ೃ࿔ by some stroke of luck, she finds that she’s been assigned to your neighboring office and her final lecture is held in the hall across from yours.

⋆.ೃ࿔ abby’s usually pretty good about the timing of her lectures and she ends up finishing 10-15 minutes early every session. so sometimes she hears the tail end of your lessons and can’t help but think you’re so fucking brilliant.

⋆.ೃ࿔ the students are taken by you too, usually not paying any mind to professors that teach lower level classes, but you’re animated and hands-on, and abby realizes that maybe she should take a page from your book.

⋆.ೃ࿔ literally can’t work up the courage to say anything to you first and is so surprised when she’s having an internal warfare one day while she’s locking up the lecture hall and you slink past her.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “have a good weekend dr. anderson!”

⋆.ೃ࿔ nearly short circuits because how in the fuck do you know her name? (hint hint: you haven’t been able to get a grip after seeing her in the same faculty meeting she’d basically fallen head over heels for you at).

⋆.ೃ࿔ for the life of her, can’t get her shit together over the weekend. is so scatterbrained because the hot new professor knows her name?? practically spirals because that means that she’s been perceived and she has no idea if it’s a good or bad thing because what do you think of her ???

⋆.ೃ࿔ runs into you bright and early monday morning as she’s about to duck into her office and she wants to make a beeline for the safety of her ergonomic chair, but you look a little frazzled and she’s speaking before she can stop herself.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “everything alright?” she asks as you miss the slot for the keyhole a few times and blow out a shaky sigh.

⋆.ೃ࿔ notices you’re carrying a fuckton of things and is wordlessly grabbing your stack of folders and taking your heavy knapsack from you as you finally get the key in the keyhole.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “thank you so much,” you say, voice thick with unshed tears. “i just, fuck, shit, sorry, that wasn’t professional—”

⋆.ೃ࿔ and she could melt because you’re so cute.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “i don’t think i saved the form for midterm grades on my laptop and the battery just crapped out on me, and i’m pretty sure i just missed the deadline and—”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “hey, breathe, breathe,” abby says gently, hands involuntarily smoothing over your shoulders. “you’re okay, it’s okay. shit happens.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “god, i’m such a idiot.” you scrub your hands down your face. “the upper level professors were right, i do suck—”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “whoa, whoa,” abby calls out sternly, expression horrified. “who said that?”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “it’s not important,” you whisper, blowing out another breath and squeezing your eyes shut as you shake your hands to try to calm yourself. “they’re not wrong.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “who.” and abby is no longer asking, arms bulging in her oxford shirt as she crosses her arms over her chest and stares down at you.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “dr. paige and mr. ruiz,” you say quietly, fidgeting under such a steely gaze.

⋆.ೃ࿔ abby just makes a noise in her throat, uncrosses her arms and tilts her head towards your desktop computer.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “if you were working on the submission form on your faculty account, it automatically syncs to the cloud both on and offline,” she says. “there’s usually a grace period until the final scheduled lecture for the day which is in...” she glances at her wrist watch, “in about an hour.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ you’re rounding your desk, practically throwing yourself in your chair as you boot up the computer and log into your faculty portal. your cheeks are flushed warm and eyes wide as your gaze flits across the screen.

⋆.ೃ࿔ you deflate in relief after a few clicks to find that professor anderson’s absolutely correct, and there’s the form in all it’s glory, cursor blinking and ready to be completed and submitted.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “holy shit, thank you so much,” you whisper.

⋆.ೃ࿔ when you look up, she’s already stormed halfway out of your office.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “dr. paige and i would just like to extend a sincere apology for our words regarding your tenure here,” mr. ruiz says after they corner you in the staffroom a few mornings later.

⋆.ೃ࿔ your eyebrows are knitting together momentarily before it dawns on you like a splash of cold water.

⋆.ೃ࿔ it explains why professor anderson had been in such a hurry to leave your office after assisting you a few mornings ago.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “s’okay,” you shrug.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “it’s really not,” dr. paige says. “it was immature and uncalled for to make such comments, and such shouldn’t be taken lightly.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ a sudden movement outside of the window catches your eye, and you’re grinning when you see the familiar flash of dirty blonde.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “really, it’s no hard feelings,” you assure them. “now if you’ll excuse me.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ you’re breaking away from them to duck out of the staffroom and surprise surprise, abigail anderson is standing a few metres from the door, arms crossed over her chest.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “are you eavesdropping dr. anderson?” you tease.

⋆.ೃ࿔ she doesn’t even bother to hide it, answering with a firm and resounding, “yes.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ that earns a full-bellied laugh out of you and she realizes that she’s so fucking whipped.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “you’re a wonderful professor,” abby assures you. “your students love you and you’ve already accomplished such great things in the department.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ you can’t help but flush and an awkward but cute silence dawns the two of you after you murmur a quiet “thank you”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “where’s your next session?” dr. anderson breaks the ice. “i’ll walk you.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ the two of you end up getting a lot closer over the rest of the semester and abby starts to get a little frustrated with herself for waiting for so long to actually talk to you.

⋆.ೃ࿔ because you’re practically perfect; so sweet, insanely intelligent, and it’s just the icing on top that you’re probably one of the prettiest girls she’s ever seen and you’ve got an equally pretty ass to match (abby is an ass girl IDC !)

⋆.ೃ࿔ heart is in shambles because you’ve learned how she likes her coffee and frequently bring her one first thing before your string of lectures start.

⋆.ೃ࿔ also, more often than not, the two of you are spending lunch hours together whether you’re grabbing a quick bite from one of the dining halls, splurging a little to eat lunch at an actual establishment, or killing time at the nearby bookstore a few blocks from the campus center.

⋆.ೃ࿔ long story short, you and abby have been spending so much time together and she knows she really likes you, but she can’t find it in herself to say anything because she doesn’t wanna scare you off with such a strong bout of emotions.

⋆.ೃ࿔ but literally everyone sees it! and it’s not necessarily that you’re oblivious, but abby’s accomplished, a really well-loved professor by both the department and her students, and even if there isn’t a ring on her finger, you’re convinced that abby’s got to have someone special in her life...it’s literally you.

⋆.ೃ࿔ even the students see it! dr. anderson’s been lagging recently during her last time slot and it doesn’t take long for a few students who love her especially so to see the way it takes her a little while longer to pack up and how she lingers out in the hall as your class ends!

⋆.ೃ࿔ “have a good weekend dr. anderson!” her last two students chime as they part ways with her. one of them glances over his shoulder and sees you filing out with a group of students from the adjacent classroom. “good luck.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ and abby’s beet fucking red when you finally lock up and ask her what that was about.

⋆.ೃ࿔ fast forward to now, it’s the final week before students are set to go home for the holidays and she’s a little down in the dumps because not only will she not get to see you for almost a month, but she’s usually alone this time of year and it’s agonizing to think that maybe you’ll be going home to someone else.

⋆.ೃ࿔ unbeknownst to her, you’ve been really nervous because maybe you’d overheard her talking to an adjunct professor, owen, about how she’d never gotten a personalized stocking made for her in response to seeing the one hanging on his shelf that his wife and kid had made for him this year, and perhaps you’d watched a couple youtube videos on stocking decorating and went out to buy the supplies right after.

⋆.ೃ࿔ admittedly, the last few days, the two of you are distant, her because she’s sad, and you because you’re probably spending every waking moment trying to think of ways to make the stocking perfect and you’re so in your head that you don’t even notice her change in demeanor.

⋆.ೃ࿔ and you try to make it perfect, really want abby to love her gift, so you fiddle around with it until the last possible moment.

⋆.ೃ࿔ you’re also nervous as fuck as you peer over your shoulder thursday afternoon, hoping dr. anderson doesn’t catch you in the act of staging her gift because frankly you’re too shy to give it to her.

⋆.ೃ࿔ even though you and dr. anderson are on great terms, she’s still so intimidating and you don’t trust yourself to make an ass of yourself, so you relay your message through a pretty piece of cardstock and tuck it into the bag before you’re scurrying off for the end of the semester.

⋆.ೃ࿔ finally, it’s the final day that campus will be open and abby’s trudging up to her office, only really intending to gather the last of what she’ll need since the buildings will be locked throughout the duration of holiday break, but she’s stopped dead in her tracks when she sees the sizable gift bag hanging on her doorknob.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “what that—”

⋆.ೃ࿔ she’s carefully moving around the tissue paper and her heart catches in her throat when she sees a blue stocking bulging with different treats and even a book! with her name carefully stitched on the band.

⋆.ೃ࿔ her first knee jerk reaction is that maybe owen pitied her and made her one, but a matching blue envelope catches her eye and she’s fishing it out of the bag.

⋆.ೃ࿔ recognizes your handwriting from the whiteboards when she’s stealing peeks into your classroom.

⋆.ೃ࿔ cheeks are flaming and stomach is tying in knots as she reads your note.

⋆.ೃ࿔ Firstly, I’m really disappointed I couldn’t deliver this to you in person, but my flight leaves for home on Friday... :( Nonetheless, you’ve been such a wonderful office neighbor and even more wonderful colleague. I truly can’t string together an adequate way to express how grateful I am to work alongside someone as kind and thoughtful as you, Dr. Anderson. You’ve quickly become such a dear friend and I hope you have a wonderful holiday! See you next year! ˆ<3

⋆.ೃ࿔ the fucking heart...the fucking heart!!! literally it’s all abby can fixate on before she realizes that there’s an ass of things tucked in the stocking and not only did you take the time to handstitch onto the fabric, but you took the time to gather things she didn’t even realize you knew she liked.

⋆.ೃ࿔ is unlocking her office so that she can pour the contents of the stocking onto her desk and she nearly dissipates into a pile of goo right then and there because there’s a few packs of her favorite gum (wintergreen), a set of her absolute favorite ballpoint pens (because gel pens are too runny for her liking), a giftcard to her usual coffee shop (“since I won’t be there to bring you your order” according to the note scrawled on the holder), a thick pair of argyle socks in her favorite colorway, and finally, there’s an annotated version of this is how you lose the time war.

⋆.ೃ࿔ and it has to mean something; your book choice and how you raved about it weeks prior during an excursion with abby to the public library, and you’d pulled the copy off the shelf and asked her if she’d read it.

⋆.ೃ࿔ “no,” she answered simply. “never caught my eye.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ “you should read it,” you’d said quietly. “their love was beautiful.”

⋆.ೃ࿔ and she’d never admit it, but she’d checked it out the following morning and blew through the book so fast, heart pounding in her chest as she realized that it was about two women in love. and, god, this has to mean something, she’d continue to agonize, even until this current moment.

⋆.ೃ࿔ and here an annotated version sits, your thoughts and inner feelings inking the pages. it makrs abby bubble with equal parts hope and sadness. sadness because it seems like way too long until she’ll see you again, and hope because maybe this means something more for the two of you in the future.

⋆.ೃ࿔ who knows, really. but abby’s certain that this holiday will feel a little less lonelier with her heart a lot more fuller.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby anderson fic #abby anderson tlou2 #abby anderson drabble

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ivysangel · 11 months ago

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do you think jason gets turned on when you start rambling about something you’re interested or passionate about? like he’s listening and giving you his full attention, zoned out on your pretty lips while you talk and hearing the little spurs of excitement in your voice when you get to one of your favorite topics and the way you smile while asking him “what do you think tho?? 😊” is just so cute and ugh now he’s hard bc you’re just so perfect to him and he can’t decide if he wants to watch you try to keep talking while his fingers are knuckles deep inside you with borderline obscene squelching noises interrupting you or just shut you up with his tongue down your throat while he’s balls deep inside you

-🦦 anon who is high rn so this might sound like gibberish 😋

this is the kinda bf i need fr. like let me tell you in detail what went down between mattel and mga that caused the downfall of bratz while you try your hardest not to make the bedroom look like the aftermath of an onlyfans shoot !!!

anyway, the thought of this with jason is going to make my nose bleed like i just can't think about this. the fact that you're so passionate about something turns him on soooooooooo bad. like ofc he also finds it cute and endearing, but there's something so sexy about how knowledgeable you are on this topic. like if you have a favorite book or movie franchise and see someone give it a bad review based on some stupid criteria (letterboxd users lmao), and you start rambling on about how their opinion is wrong (bc opinions can be wrong idc) and they just don't get it, he's gets just slightly amused but mostly very horny. he lets you keep talking as long as he can before moving closer to you, kissing your neck, lightly touching your thigh. you stop talking bc the moods shifted, but he just tells you to keep going, keep rambling, spill all of your thoughts on this person's dumb opinion while his fingers find their way into your cunt. it seems like he's not actively listening, and even if he was, every word that comes out of you is so broken that whatever you're saying is practically incoherent. somehow he still manages to pick up everything though, so he randomly brings up something you said, and then it's your turn to lay it on him bc attentive men are so hot.

#★ dirty laundry ★#jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd lover #jason todd #jason todd x you #red hood #red hood smut #red hood x reader #★ 🦦 ★

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amourtoken · 6 months ago

Text

so I literally cannot stop thinking abt this here u go

god kink Noah and softie Christian reader

I already know I'm going to hell so no need to remind me ik this is filth but that's what's fun abt it also basing the looks of the building off of this big ass church I used to go to and it's very weird and industrial so apologies if it's confusing

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: sacrilege lmao, degradation, raw sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, Noah kinda thinks he's better than everyone else, maybe bc he thinks he's God idk, corruption, loss of virginity, experienced Noah, dirty talk, slightly public, belly bulge, dacryphilia

♡ Noah's only at church cause he has to be, otherwise why the fuck would he waste his morning here. He sits through the awful music and wonders how all of these people live such a lie, its pathetic to him. The only thing that makes it bearable is the pretty little thing in the little white sundress that never fails to show up every Sunday.

♡ he thinks you're so cute. Brainwashed, but cute. All he ever thinks abt is how he could desecrate you and how you'd look so much prettier worshipping him.

♡ Noah is damn near your exact opposite, covered in tattoos, always wearing dark colors. He never really talks to anyone either, keeping to himself. You'd say he was miserable if you didn't see his face soften a little every time you catch his eye. You try to make a point and interact with him every chance you get, maybe he's lonely? You can't let that happen. He's the worship leader's son, you'd think he'd be having a better time but who knows what's going through his head.

♡ Noah almost feels bad that he can't keep his thoughts in order when you walk up to him, pretty smile plastered on your face. You're chattering about today's service and he's picturing his hands on your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin while he bucks up into you and gets to hear those pretty little noises he's sure you'd make. All he'd have to do is pull your dress up too, it'd be easy. He's nodding along with your conversation and trying to seem interested but it's getting harder and harder to pretend he's listening.

♡ his eyes drifting to the neckline of your dress which is pretty modest but God he'd be able to pull it down so easy, tease your nipples while you grind yourself on his thigh and whine for him to fill you up. His eyes snap back to your face which is etched with concern.

"Noah, are you feeling alright? You seem out of it."

♡ he could lie, but what's the point. Isn't lying a sin?

"I'm fine. Just thinking about how pretty you'd look split on my cock."

♡ did he really say that??? You weren't sure how to even respond. Or if you should at all. You were flushed down to your chest and Noah admired the pretty pink tinge to your skin. He was almost nervous he'd fucked up but he knew what to say to have you following him like a little sheep. If you can sit through service every week and genuinely believe the shit his father is saying, you'll do anything if it's said in the right tone.

"Bet you've never even fucked before, have you? Saving yourself for marriage and all that bullshit. You know I could make you feel good, you should let me show you."

♡ you're still stunned, standing like a little deer in some headlights. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find Noah attractive but you felt like he wasn't in the cards for you. He's everything you're not, but maybe that's what's so enticing about him. How he talked about your beliefs stung a little but you couldn't help the way your thighs pressed together at the thought of him and his suggestion. He'd never hurt you, right? You can trust him, why would he wrong you?

♡ Noah nodded toward one of the exit doors, turning to leave and hoping you'd follow. You nearly tripped over your own feet trying to catch up with him. Your brain felt fuzzy and you knew whatever he was gonna put you through was horrifically sinful but you can be forgiven for being curious, right? Noah locked the door behind you, leaving you both in an empty stairwell. Hopefully no one tried to interrupt the two of you, because Noah was immediately to work. He walked you backwards until your back was pressed to the concrete wall and he tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling until you whimpered and keened against his hand for some relief.

"The only fucking God in this building is me. I expect you to treat me like such."

"You answer to me, and you follow my fucking directions, yeah? Gonna be a good girl and do what I say?"

♡ you felt your heart race terribly in your chest from how close he was, you felt like a prey animal being stalked by a predator. You really didn't know what to expect, you've never done this before. You shouldn't be doing this at all...what have you gotten yourself into...

♡ Noah surprisingly sinks to his knees in front of you, hands brushing at your knees and sliding up your thighs, hiking up your dress as he goes. His long fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties to tug them down and he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, without warning burying his face in your pussy making you yelp and tangle your fingers in his hair for some balance.

(Something like this yk)

♡ you pulled his hair tightly between your fingers, whining while he lapped at your pussy and groaned against you when you pulled a little too hard. You felt pricks of pins and needles all over your body, it felt like a swarm of butterflies populated your lower stomach. Oh god...one of his hands steadied itself on your thigh but the other slid up to glide between your folds, gathering the slick mess before prodding at your entrance making you squirm. He was right, you hadn't done this before. He wanted you to enjoy yourself though, that's why he was taking the time to stretch you out and make you cum, so you could actually take his cock afterwards.

♡ the fingers at your entrance slid in slowly, stretching you out and scissoring slightly to spread you further. Your legs were shaking and the swarm in your belly felt 100x worse. You were worried you couldn't hold yourself up much longer...Noah pressed his fingers as deep as he could fit them, brushing your cervix and curving up to press right into the most sensitive spot he could. He laughed against your pussy when he felt you clench around his fingers, teeth brushing your clit and making you whimper pathetically above him. He was the one on his knees and you were unraveling. Pitiful.

"You gonna cum for me? Can't let you take this cock till you cum, won't fit."

♡ when he nudges a 3rd finger in you completely come undone, tugging his face closer to you and nearly crying while you grind into him through your orgasm. He speeds his fingers up inside of you until you're squirming and begging him to stop. He withdraws and stands back up, reminding you he towers over you at his full height and he licks your slick off of his fingers right in front of you. You're still panting and your legs feel shaky, this isn't helping.

♡ Noah thinks you look adorable so shaken up, he can't help but admire how your chest is rising so quickly and your face is flushed. He did that to you. He's gonna do so much more too. He backs you into the wall again and runs his hands down your thighs, picking you up and pressing your back into the wall for extra support while your legs wrapped around his waist. You threw your arms around his neck to steady yourself but he wasn't gonna drop you, he could hold you up for hours if he needed to. Again though, he thinks you're adorable and lets you think he could drop you just to get your heart racing again.

♡ he holds you up with one arm while freeing his achingly hard cock with the other. You didn't even really get a chance to see it, but when he drug the tip through the slick mess between your legs you could describe the feeling as dread. He felt huge. Noah leaned his head against your neck, pressing soft kisses up to your ear and nipping at the soft skin.

"Gotta relax for me, promise I'll make you feel so good...trust me"

"Can't wait to feel how tight this pussy is, can't believe I'm your first. Bet I'll be the last too."

"Gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else, gonna be mine forever, yeah?"

"So much for staying pure, hm? All it took was one little comment and here you are letting me fuck you raw in a stairwell. Wonder how your god feels about that."

♡ he'd planned on taking it slow but after sinking in just a few inches he couldn't help himself. He trusted up into you, hilting himself in one move and sank his teeth deep into your shoulder to try and muffle the groan that escaped his chest. He slapped a hand over your mouth as he sank in and thank God he did because the sound you made was nothing short of a scream. Big tears welled in your eyes even after all the work he did to prep you, the stretch of taking his cock felt almost too much. Noah was loving every moment, watching you fall apart for him. He pressed a large hand to your stomach as he started fucking himself into you just to feel how deep he fit in your poor body.

"O-oh god-"

"The only fucking god you should be praying to is me."

♡ your whimpers and moans were nonstop but thankfully muffled against his palm, he didn't want anyone interrupting you. You gripped his cock just fucking right and he doubted he could really last long but he needed to have you unravel on his dick before he could finish. Noah reached up and tugged the front of your dress down, leaning to absolutely cover your chest in hickeys and lick at your overly sensitive nipples, your whines pitched up when his teeth got a little too rough but he couldn't help but admire his work. Your pretty soft skin marred with teeth marks and bruises. There's no way you could walk back out there and have no one notice, everyone would know exactly what you did, and who you did it with. Perfect.

"bet you've been thinking about this just as much as I have, huh bunny? Needed to get fucked, needed to get filled up by some fat cock, yeah? Tell me."

"Your little god was keeping you from this, does he really feel better than me? Wanna hear you say it."

"Gonna cum again for me, bunny? Need to feel you squeeze this cock, you can do it. I got you."

♡ your head fell back against the hard wall as he fucked into you, the coil in your stomach tightened unbearably. Every thrust sank as deep as he could possibly get and made your legs shake in his hold. Noah was chasing your pleasure as much as his own, he loved seeing your pretty little pathetic expressions. He slid a hand between your bodies and barely even had a chance to brush your clit as you came. His arm around you tightened to keep you still as he fucked you through it, tears spilling from your eyes and ruining your pretty makeup.

"S-shit- that's it- good girl, feels good yeah? So good for me-"

"That's it, tell me who's making you feel this good baby say my fuckin' name- n-need to hear it"

♡ his thrusts picked up in intensity, fingers sinking into your hips hard enough to leave Bruises and he sank in impossibly deep as he shuddered through his own end, you whined at the feeling of his hot cum filling you up and the extra dripping out of you making a mess on the floor under you. It took a second for Noah to set you back down on shaky legs, he helped you straighten your dress back out before pulling you in for an uncharacteristically gentle kiss. He felt like he was a little harsh on you but he was happy you actually would do something like this with him finally.

"So pretty...we should do this again sometime, yeah?"

#Nowah #HNgg #noah sebastian smut

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zhenne · 1 month ago

Text

watching from afar | route two : a confession

[ intro ]

syn. Zayne doesn’t like that silver-haired man you accompanied to the gala, and he’s intent to remind you that you already have someone who can satiate your every need. What would he be if not for the good doctor looking after his patient’s wellbeing?

wc. 3.8k (help)

warnings. smut!! (mdni), dubcon but not really, probably ooc, possessive Zayne (my beloved), semi-public sex, car sex (again hehe), marking, unestablished relationship, mentions of alcohol, pre-existing fling!, oral (f!receiving), petnames & praise (good girl, cute, pretty), Zayne steals your panties hehehe, grinding, bit of titty sucking, fingering/fondling, begging, implied ending bc it was already too long (and suck at endings), not proofread (we die like men)

now playing : the replacement

Zayne didn’t like that Sylus guy. Not. A. Single. Bit. The silver haired man oozed bad intentions and even worse was his silver tongue that seemed so ready to quell any suspicions with a smoothed over half-truth. Zayne didn’t like Sylus, and he especially hated the way he touched you, too casual and familiar for his liking.

He most definitely isn’t a good character, and the thought alone of someone like him corrupting you made Zayne’s skin crawl and his lips twist into a disapproving frown.

You notice the lines creased into Zayne’s forehead, “Is everything okay?” You tilt your head to the side, eyes scanning his face, worry etched into your own. “Are you not feeling well? We can go back if you want.”

You were still savoring your first drink of the evening when Zayne had invited you on a strolling tour of the event venue. Your walk had led you to a quieter wing of the building, one that the hospital sometimes uses for hosting bi-annual banquets, according to your guide. However, your self-appointed tour guide is suddenly quiet now as you try to sneak a glimpse of his expression.

Zayne blinks and seems to catch himself from his thoughts, offering you a small apologetic smile. “Sorry, I’m okay. Just got lost in thought for a moment.”

You give him a small pout, not fully believing his words. “There’s something bothering you,” you finally bite the bullet. You’ve known Zayne long enough to make sense of most of his tells, and right now, he was either overthinking, or there was something nagging at the back of his mind.

In this scenario, it would be the latter.

You decide not to push too much, opting to instead change the subject to try and bring him back to you. “Back in the main hall, when I was at the bar,” you continued to walk alongside him through a hall of large windows, some tilted open to and framed with decadent curtains that seemed to billow in the breeze like wisps of clouds. “How’d you even know it was me from all the way over there?”

He seems to think on it for a moment, a faint smile twitching at the corner of his lips. “I was talking with Greyson, but he kept getting distracted by someone in a beautiful dress sitting alone…” he cast a sidelong glance at you as you both continued to slowly pace the corridor, the sound of your heels softly echoing down the empty walls. “So I suppose we could technically say I wasn’t the one who noticed you first, but I’m glad I came over when I did. A pretty girl like you is bound to attract attention.”

The shift in his tone was minute, but you caught it. And your stomach stirred with butterflies at what he was undoubtedly insinuating.

“You make it sound as though I’m looking for trouble.”

“Hmm,” he hums, “that’s why you should be careful who you spend time with.”

You’re about to try and change the subject again, but the smooth timbre of his voice beats yours out. “I’m sure I don’t need to lecture you on the dangers of bad company corrupting those with good character, do I?”

You both stop walking as he turns to face you, his stoic expression unreadable in the dim light. The noises of the party were muted, a chorus of unintelligible chatter that barely reached your ears. The sound of your blood rushing through your veins was all you could hear as you stared up at the reputable doctor. “Sylus is a good man-”

Zayne’s eyes narrowed, “Then why do I get the feeling he’s nothing but bad news – someone that will only cause trouble for you?”

You suck in a breath, hands balling at your sides as the room’s silence now becomes almost deafening. “I don’t think that’s a fair assum-”

“I never claimed to be fair.” His cold tone cuts you off, making your lips snap shut. “But I’m not foolish enough to think he’s good for you.”

You hold your breath, something akin to indignation stirring within your chest. “What? So I should be with someone like you? Is that what you're trying to say?” You suddenly fume, brows furrowed with exasperation. The moment the words slipped past your lips, regret stung your tongue. You hold up a hand between you, tone suddenly detached, “You know what, no. This isn’t a conversation we should be having.”

You turn on your heels to begin walking back in the direction of the main foyer, set on forgetting this conversation even happened, but a cold palm reaches for your wrist with a resolute firmness.

“Is the thought of being with me really that bad?”

Your heart clenches when you finally meet his gaze. The sincerity of his voice and conflicted hurt swimming in his irises had your breath hitching. “Zayne…” you begin, uncertain, “we really shouldn’t-”

“Please,” his voice was quiet, but the edge remained there, “I just need to know your answer.” His hand released your wrist, his cool touch ghosting over your cheek as his palm cradles your face. His hazel eyes bore into you, silently pleading for your explanation.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?”

You swallow, wanting to shrink away from his searching eyes. Zayne’s thumb holds your chin, the pad of his finger brushing against the plush of your bottom lip. His voice was just above a whisper, low and raw, “Because I think I’m going to lose my mind if I have to watch him touch you again.”

The sudden admission left you wide-eyed and heart pounding. Your mouth opened and closed, opened and closed, but no sound came out. You merely gaped up at Zayne as he studied your expression.

You had always found him attractive. How could you not? He was irresistibly handsome, successful, and not to mention incredibly sweet. He was the total package. But both your professions were demanding, and you’re lucky to see him once a week, if that. The fallout and looming repercussions made you hesitate. Even without the unclear intentions of Sylus, your emotions were as clear as mud.

A shaky breath slips past your lips. “Zayne, it’s not that I don’t want to be with you.. It’s just..”

“Is it your colleague? Then forget about him. He’s nothing but trouble anyway.” His thumb caresses your lip again, the look in his eyes sparking a warm jolt down your spine. Your eyelids threaten to dip as his head nudges closer, the tip of his nose tickling yours. You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as he whispers, “Quite frankly, I’d rather take you for myself than let you become someone else’s.”

If kissing Zayne was anything, it’s determined. His touch was persistent in how his lips claimed yours. The intensity had you taking a few half steps backwards until your shoulders hit a wall, Zayne quickly pressing his chest to yours, keeping you anchored as the kiss grew heated.

Your hands grip at his suit jacket, pulling him impossibly closer as his mouth slots over yours, the kiss devolving into a showcase of desperation – of shared breaths, smudged lipstick, and a restrained mess of spit and tongue. You pull back, just enough to take in Zayne’s expression. You blink softly, hesitant when you see his eyes shining with turmoil.

“What’s wrong?” A breathless remorse.

The edges of his lips quirk up, nose bumping against yours as he gently holds your hips. “There is absolutely nothing wrong,” he mutters, his lips brushing yours, “except that I want you terribly.”

It takes everything in you not to whine at the desperation in his tone, a mirror of your own. His breath fans across the shell of your ear as he shifts to whisper against the side of your neck. “You thought the man in front of you was kind and gentle, didn’t you?” His teeth gently nip at your earlobe as his breath tickles the skin of your neck. “But every time you smiled at him, I went mad with jealousy.”

Your body felt hot. Your pulse thrummed like electricity through your nerves, kindling a heat in your core at his possessive gruffness – you’ve never seen Zayne like this, and it made an undeniable excitement course through you.

Your head falls back when you feel Zayne’s thigh slot itself between your legs, the tension between you growing hot as your mutual compulsion becomes apparent. He pulls away suddenly, eyes dark as he stares down at your flushed face, warm breath tickling your lips.

“Do you remember Yvonne’s wedding?” You’re momentarily stunned. He invited you to accompany him as his plus one to the wedding in spring, what could he possibly be.. Oh- “Do you remember how many dances we shared before we found ourselves back at my hotel room?” His whispered words sent a chill down your spine. “Do you remember the way I held you then?”

Your entire body is alight with a feverish haze, recollection stirring your memories. “Y-Yes..” you offer, meek.

“Won’t you let me do it again?”

Your eyes flutter shut at the longing in his raspy plea. You’re still aware enough to pay mind to your surroundings, uncertainty in your quiet voice. “But the others.. Sylus.. Won’t they notice?”

Zayne’s face dips back into the crook of your neck, a warm puff of breath has your own hitching as his lips press a soft wet kiss to the skin. “You keep saying his name…” he almost growls, matter-of-factly. There’s a gentle bite of his canines against your throat. “I want to hear you say mine instead.”

You swallow, fighting the urge to clench your thighs together at the possessive rumble in his chest. Your hips shift, your core catching on his thigh just enough to prompt your lip between your teeth. “Z-Zayne.. please,” you murmur, chin dipping down as heat pooled in your core and lit up your cheeks.

A gentle hand brings your vision back to his face. Even in your current state you watch with rapt attention as his gaze drops down to your lips before the tip of his tongue wets his own. Your cunt spasms involuntarily at the display. Then, finally – finally, you feel his body press into yours, occupying each of your senses as your back is pressed flush to the wall and his hips cage yours.

He kisses you like a man starved, hungry for an affection only you could provide. His tongue licks into your mouth with a fervent deprivation. Strong, precise hands grip your hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the contours of your hipbones as he rocks himself against you.

You respond in kind, shifting your body so your uncomfortably slick cunt could brush against the seam of his zipper with each pass. Quiet, breathy mewls fill the otherwise silent space. You would have half the mind to make him take you somewhere people couldn’t freely walk into. But you were in no such state of mind, and you doubted you truly cared at this point.

Your quickly quieting thoughts were careened from your mind altogether when Zayne pulls away from your lips, his own cheeks dusted with a tinge of warmth as he began to kneel down in front of you. You’re about to question him, but your palm quickly flies over your mouth when a caressing palm nudges your legs apart. A head of dark hair brushes against your thighs, soft breaths fanning over your thin dress nearly enough to have your knees buckling.

“Say you’ll let me..” the throaty whisper makes your skin tingle and heart stutter. A strangled whimper slips past your lips as he pushes the skirt of your dress to the side, bunching it into his palm, finally able to admire your needy cunt.

Your own plea is even needier, “Fuck.. please, touch me, Zayne-”

You shudder when he presses a thumb to your clothed slit, observant eyes watching the way your slick soaked through your panties with an appreciative hum. He does it two more times before finally satiating the carnal need to taste you on his tongue. “So wet already…”

The hand that was covering your mouth flies to grasp a handful of his hair, your eyes rolling back when the man below you groans into your sopping folds. “Still so sweet...” He eats you out through your drenched panties like you were his favorite sweet, a decadent candy for his tongue alone. Each flick of his warm tongue threatened to have your legs giving out from beneath you. And if it weren’t for the gripping vice Zayne had your hip pinned in, you likely would have.

His tongue teases against your entrance through your ruined panties until he finally has enough and forces himself to separate from your sweet cunt. Even in the obscured light, you can make out the faint shine of his lips and chin, a sight that has you whimpering. While you’re admiring your new favorite appearance of the stoic doctor, Zayne deftly slides your panties down your legs before stuffing the soiled garment in his suit pocket.

Any attempt to question him died as soon as you felt his lips experimentally kiss along your bare pussy. And god, the moan that ricocheted off the walls when he pressed the flat of his tongue into your seeping entrance made his dick throb painfully in the confines of his slacks. You would’ve thought he had no shame with the way he unabashedly slurped your juices, the lewd sounds only making your cunt flutter at the prospect of being caught in such a compromising position, with the esteemed Dr. Zayne no less.

“You look so pretty like this..” he murmurs against your skin, warm breath puffing against your slit. His lips suction around your poor clit, dark eyes staring up at you with an unmatched intensity. “Such a good girl.”

You’re close, you can feel it – that tight, hot coil in your stomach waiting to snap. You tug on the hair in your hand, thighs trembling with the exertion of keeping upright. You breathily chant his name like a mantra to a dying god, ‘ZayneZayneZayneZayne-’, hips moving on their own accord to grind against his face. Your head falls back when the ridge of his nose catches the hood of your clit in a moment of blinding ecstasy.

In a display of pure debauchery, you come with a loud whine on your doctor’s tongue. Zayne groans into your cunt as he feels the way you spasm against his mouth, his tongue fucking into you clenching hole as you ride out your climax. It takes you keening with overstimulation to pull his mouth away from your pussy, and the drunken gleam in his eyes involuntarily sends a jolt through your core.

Zayne quietly stands, wiping the back of his hand over the mess you left on his chin before fixing and smoothing the front of your dress. He plants a chaste kiss to your lips, the action feeling suddenly out of place considering he just gave you the best head of your life.

You're still panting softly as he brushes his nose from your cheek to your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. Your palms feel warm against his chest as he begins to trail lazy kisses from your jaw to your neck. He stops when his lips reach the hem of your dress, your cleavage looking too inviting to ignore. You swear you hear him murmur something inaudible before he’s sucking a mark on the spot.

You make a poor attempt at trying to stop him, but can’t bring yourself to push him away. He’s pulled the top of your dress down, a perfect hiding spot of his own. You can’t help but chase after the feeling as his mouth finally leaves your blemished skin.

It feels keenly intimate, the way he admires the little bruise – proof that he was here, he was with you. You chuckle softly when you feel his forehead drop against the curve of your shoulder. “Feeling better?”

His fingers grip your waist tentatively, sighing against your skin. “I’d feel better if you let me leave another,” his fingertips brush over the faint red mark freshly painted, a hushed whisper with the hint of gruff jealousy still lingering. You shift slightly against him, freezing when he groans almost painfully.

You glance down at the obviously hard bulge in his pants. You poke a manicured nail into the muscle of his bicep, chin dipping to try and catch his gaze. “You want help with that?”

A breathy chuckle graces your ears before he’s humming against the shell of your ear, “I’d much rather take you home..” Suddenly, the noises of the forgotten party were bustling, more alive than ever. You blush, acutely aware of how possible it would be for someone, especially a certain someone, to find you like this. “Besides,” Zayne murmurs, a hidden promise lying in his words, “staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?”

–

You aren’t sure how you managed to slip from the party unnoticed, but you’re silently thanking every deity you know while Zayne has you draped across the backseat of his car. You had shot Sylus a quick message before tossing your phone in your small clutch, which is very much discarded and forgotten somewhere on the floor of the car.

‘I started to feel a bit queasy from the drinks, so I’m stepping outside for some fresh air. Text me when your meeting is done.’

It’s cramped with Zayne’s broad frame crowding the limited space. Your legs were hooked over his thigh and hip, nearly bent in half. The pretty dress, the one Sylus had bought for you, was now a disheveled bundle of silk bunched in Zayne’s palms as he pushed the fabric up past your waist, brandishing your bare cunt to him with a low groan. His lips hadn’t left yours since he slammed the car door shut.

The throaty desperation in Zayne’s voice pushes any of the remaining guilt from your forethought.

He’s noticed your slight cues of apprehension, “Am I going too fast?” And god… the damn near pained intonation of his words sent a jolt of heat through you.

You offer a small grin against the ghost of his lips, “What happened to ‘taking me home’?”

“I’m afraid I can’t wait any longer.”

You breathe out, your hand cupping his jaw as he just barely withdraws from your lips. You search his eyes, your heart beating wildly in your chest. You knew he could read you like an open book, could see every gear turn one click at a time as you weighed the possible collaterals looming in the near future.

He softly brushed his lips against yours, letting a calm lull of silence fall between you, only your soft puffs of breath could be heard as he stared down into your eyes. “You deserve to be loved.” Your lips part, as if to say something – to disagree, to counter, testify – but he stops you, thumb pressing down gingerly on your bottom lip. “And he couldn’t love you like I do.”

He could see the lingering doubt, the fear, mingling in the depths of your irises, in the way the corners of your mouth twitched, tentative. You can feel his length, hard and straining against the pitch in his slacks, press against your thigh. Your face was feverish when you finally allowed yourself to pull him by the neck, slotting your lips against his to silence your own rampant thoughts.

A sharp whine pierces from your mouth when two cold fingers make contact with your pussy, smearing the mess of arousal as they stroke languid shapes through your folds. Zayne smirks against your lips at the sound. “Mm..” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically slurred, “Cute…”

You feel like your mind is utterly blank. You haven’t even had his cock, and yet you’re already this teary-eyed for him. You wriggle your hips, coaxing his fingers to apply more pressure where you needed it most. Zayne holds your hips down with one hand, pulling back to lock eyes with you, his gaze predatory. “I don’t want anyone else to know the sounds you make… so please, let this be a secret you only share with me.”

You know what he’s saying, what’s being offered, the faintest hint of possessiveness just under the surface. And the temptation to open Pandora’s Box was all too seductive.

“Yes, Zayne,” you breathe out, “ ‘m yours..”

With a pleased hum, the man above you drags your hips down the plush of the seat until they meet the solid strength of his hips. Your eyes roll back from the way his pants immediately soak with your slick, his cock grinding into your heat with a tenacity that has you choking on a moan. You grip his bicep in your palm, fingernails surely leaving marks through his dress shirt while he all but fucks you through his own clothes.

It was humiliating how good it felt – to have the distinguished Dr. Zayne making a mess of you in the backseat of his luxury car. The thin straps of your dress were slipping off the dip of your shoulders, catching Zayne’s eyes as he drags one strap past your elbow, your already-marked breast finally revealed to his hungry admiration.

“Oh, fuck!” You mewl loudly when a warm pair of lips latch over the sensitive flesh, tongue laving a lewd kiss to the pebbled bud. “Wait, wait.. Don’t stop..” you drawl out, voice wavering.

You feel Zayne chuckle against your skin, “I’m going to need you to make up your mind, darling.”

Your head rolls against the seat, chest heaving. You knew what you wanted, the ache in your core pulsing with a dull pain. “Please. Stop teasing me."

"You need to learn to be better with your words, don't you think? Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

You could whine, cry even, with how unbearably pent up and desperate you are. The little touches, teasing words, and depravity of it all made you embarrassingly delirious. “God-” your hand slinks to the back of his neck, fingers dragging across the skin before pulling yourself up on your elbow, “fuck me already, please.”

The smirk that accompanied your plea, was unlike anything you’d ever seen on him before as he whispered, warm breath tickling your lips, “As you wish.”

#♱₊˚✧ filth !#love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love and deepspace smut #lads zayne #love and deepspace zayne #love and deep space #lads smut #l&ds zayne #l&ds smut

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reverie-starlight · 1 year ago

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fluffy hawks drabble-turned-mini-fic because i love him. if you think the feather necklace trope is overused, this is probably not the place for you. also important to note: let’s say for the sake of my sanity that this takes place before seasons 5/6, okay? I know what's up in the manga, I'm just ignoring it to be happy :)

fem!reader, no physical descriptions aside from wearing dresses + enjoying it and reader could be perceived as chubby, but no explicit mentions of body type!! shopping for clothes is just hard and it’s briefly reflected on in this. lots of soft fluff. pet names (baby, sweetheart, pretty girl, etc) I just got a bunch of cute dresses and now I'm gonna make it hawks' problem. this is like. disgustingly soft and so incredibly self indulgent avert your eyes. please. very smiley and giggly. a bit suggestive at the end bc I have no self-control.

soft laughter and the sound of rustling sheets were the only noises heard in your shared bedroom that afternoon. surprisingly enough for both of you, keigo had finished his patrol early and caught you on the way up to your apartment. almost immediately after walking in and getting your shoes and coats off, he had grabbed you and sped off to your room, dropping you on the bed and launching an attack.

you were both so happy to have some extra time together that it boosted your energy immensely, resulting in a impromptu play fight. it wasn't very often that you got to be so playful anymore with things picking up for him at work. you were both still young, so when you got the chance to act like it, you definitely took it.

"keigo!" you shrieked as he pressed a slew of quick, light kisses over your face and down your neck. a ticklish sensation was left in their wake, even more so because of his facial hair. he just chuckled and rubbed his face against your skin to draw out more laughter. feathers flew around and brushed against your cheeks and other places he couldn't focus his attention on.

his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist to limit your movements, but you still squirmed around to try and get the upper hand. eventually, after a few more kisses to your chest and stomach, he loosened his grip to give you a fighting chance and you flipped on top of him, making sure not to hurt his wings, which ruffled in excitement.

"so what are you gonna do with me now, sweetheart?" he grinned up at you, eyes positively glowing with mirth.

you felt your own gaze go soft and cupped his face with your hands, rubbing your thumbs over the apples of his cheeks. "I dunno," you murmured, keeping your voice low in volume and sweet in its delivery.

your eyes wandered over his features, admiring him in the golden rays of sun coming from your window. "you're so pretty, keigo..."

he went a little red but smiled softly. "that's my line, angel," and then he leaned up to steal another kiss from you.

eventually you both settled down, laying in bed together and talking about your days. keigo told you about having to chase down a bank robber and some purse snatchers, and how a little old lady asked for help getting her cat down from a tree. you snickered at the thought.

the atmosphere turned serene as you both laid there. you were close enough that your breaths mixed and your foreheads touched, his hands absentmindedly running over your soft skin and the curves of your body. "so how was your day?" he whispered.

"it was okay. I had a shorter day at work, so I went shopping and I got some new clothes..." you sat up and walked over to where the bags were discarded before he tossed you on the bed. "want to see them?"

he whined a little when you walked away but quickly sat up as well, nodding his head at the second part. "I'd never pass up the chance to see you trying on clothes, baby, who exactly do you take me for?"

you smiled and shook your head fondly. "alright, alright. sit tight, I'll be back," you said and headed to the connecting bathroom, ignoring his grumbling about how you were depriving him of getting to see the best part.

and when you came back out, in a pretty little sundress, twirling so he could get the full effect, he stared at you in awe.

he knew from past shopping trips and many teary conversations with you that finding clothes you actually felt confident in could be… difficult. of course he thought you looked amazing in everything, and if he had it his way, he’d buy every single outfit you even glanced at, but there was just something so alluring about seeing you happy and proud in clothes you felt good in.

“such a pretty girl…” he murmured to no one in particular. it looked a bit like he was in a trance as he took in your figure. attempting to hold back a shy smile from forming at his words, you looked down at the ground to keep yourself from getting too flustered.

he grinned and held his hand out for you once your eyes met his again. taking it, he gently pulled you towards him to stand in between his legs and rested his chin on your sternum, not once breaking eye contact. his hands moved to toy with the hem of your dress.

“I mean it, you’re absolutely stunning. the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on... my pretty girl.”

you couldn’t hold back your smile this time and he adored the way your lips curled upwards, how your eyes flitted around the room, staring at anything but him, clearly affected by his words.

he sent a feather out to tilt your chin back towards him and he was suddenly reminded of something.

“ah right- I have something for you,” he dug something out of his pocket and proudly presented you with what looked like a thin brown faux leather string…

with a bright red feather attached to it.

you gasped and took the item into your hands, closely inspecting it. you treated it with the utmost care, as if it were your most prized possession. it very well might’ve been.

the string had a clasp at the back to make it easier to put on and remove, and it looped around the... stem? bone? (you made a mental note to clarify with keigo later) of the feather multiple times. it was secured with a thin silver wire to ensure it wouldn’t slip out before the rope continued on to the other end of the hook.

he actually had one of his feathers turned into a necklace for you.

“keigo, I… this is incredible, oh my goodness!” you beamed at him and leaned down to properly hug him.

he was incredibly perceptive. of course he knew that all those times you had jokingly asked him about keeping one of his feathers with you were actually silent requests. even if you’d never outright ask him, he could tell you longed to have a piece of him with you. especially when he had to wipe your tears before a long mission and you stared longingly at his wings. he took pride in the fact that you found comfort in them.

who was he to deny the love of his life? what’s one feather from his arsenal gone, anyway? it was going towards the cause of making you happy, and most importantly, there was the added bonus of keeping you safe.

“here, let me put it on for you,” he said, gesturing for you to sit on his lap and hand him the necklace.

you got settled and he happily clasped the ends of the string together at the back of your neck. the bottom of the feather rested just above the neckline of your dress and you touched it gingerly.

as soon as it rested against your skin, he took control of it and ran it across your cheek, making you giggle and pull away a bit.

“thank you, keigo, I love it.” you turned around on his lap to face him and pressed your lips against his.

he hummed into the kiss and pulled away with a sly smile. “of course, baby. besides,” he toyed with one of the straps on your shoulder. “it goes with your new dress, don’t you think?”

you put your arms around his shoulders, gently stroking the arches of his wings and nodded in agreement. he placed his hands on the tops of your thighs and gently squeezed. “wanna see if it goes with my other dresses, too?”

“oh, absolutely. but..." he shifted a bit and pulled you closer, so that you were fully pressed against him. "I don't think I've appreciated this one enough... what do you think?" he slowly trailed his eyes up from your legs to meet yours.

you tilted your neck forward to rest your forehead against his. "I think that you'll find some of the other things I bought more interesting than a sundress, keigo."

his sly smile turned into something more eager and you laughed when he dramatically flopped backwards on the bed with a groan. "you're too good for me, angel, seriously. what did I ever do to deserve you?"

you offered him a shrug and a tiny smile of your own. "exist."

his eyes widened a fraction and you could tell that your words deeply affected him from the way they welled up. he cleared his throat to cover up any emotion in his voice and sat up again to cup your cheek, murmuring "sweet girl, you'd better hurry up and try on those other dresses, because if you're not off my lap in three seconds, I'm gonna pounce, and we're not leaving this room 'til we're both spent."

butterflies erupted within you and he watched fondly as you gasped and ran off to keep your little fashion show up and running.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BONUS:

the following days after receiving his gift were... not surprising in the slightest.

you always knew when keigo was taking a break or in his office doing paperwork because he took every opportunity to bug you with his (your) feather.

every. single. one.

and you also knew before he even had the necklace made that if he were to ever give you one, this would likely happen. he was a menace, after all. part of his charm, he always said.

at first it was a bit embarrassing having to fight with a feather in front of your coworkers (who weren't aware you were dating a pro hero, so they probably thought you were some fangirl who bought faulty, cheap merch of his), but it very quickly became endearing.

cause yeah, if he knew you were going to be around people he'd make life difficult for you and then take all of your whines and complaints with a mischievous grin when he walked through the door, clearly lying when he said he'd take it down a notch.

but when he knew you were alone? or having a particularly stressful day? all you had to do was lightly tug on the necklace. upon your signal, he'd immediately take control of the feather and bring it up to caress your cheek, run along your neck or tap your nose.

honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way. you adored his playful side, and he knew he could get away with most things via feather necklace. even if it was only because you were too flustered to scold him for anything anymore by time he got back. complaints soon turned into requests for cuddles and wanting to return all the affection you received.

the feather necklace was a gift for you, sure, but it definitely benefitted him as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I edited this super quickly, so apologies if there's any mistakes! I'll find them eventually when I look back at this fic and end up contemplating my choices to post without properly editing :')

hope you enjoyed!! <3

#hawks x reader #hawks x fem!reader #hawks x reader fluff #keigo takami x reader #hawks fluff #keigo takami x reader fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader fluff #mha x reader fluff #fem!reader

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too-deviant · 9 months ago

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idk if you’d be comfortable writing this but I was wondering if you could whip up an Aphrodite!reader who’s fed up with her beauty. She stops attending school and stays the full term at camp which makes Luke confused. So she tells him about how random dudes would hit on her and be creepy at her school or something. She’d prolly join him with Kronos bc she wants to feel respected for once. Would be such an angsty but filled with femme rage although totally cool if you choose not to write this~ Just wanted to share it with someone 💛

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Aphrodite!Reader

Summary: Maybe you didn't want to be beautiful anymore.

Content: pretty angsty, brief mentions of male harassment but nothing explicit or triggering, again sorry for the wait i had w block pls forgive me. also not proofread sorry yall its been a rough week.

You were only faintly aware of the noise around you.

The chatter of the city was a mere buzz in the back of your head as you marched down the street. It amazed you, really, just how unbelievably dickish mortal boys could be. This one in particular; Mike Schwartz, a five foot something jock who sat on the bench at every game. He’d been a bother in your life since you started high school. Back then, you took the endless prospects as a compliment – you truly were your mother’s daughter. It was a boost to your weak teenage confidence.

But as the years went by, the constant asking for your hand became an irritant. Especially when they couldn’t get the hint – at fourteen, turning down guys felt amazing, but when those same guys kept coming back for more, it made your eye twitch. Couldn’t they take the first no, tuck their tail between their legs and fuck off?

Apparently not.

After four years of putting up with it, you were done. Storming out of the cafeteria, grabbing all your things, hailing a cab and getting the hell outta dodge. Maybe you should’ve stopped to think — called your dad, taken a few deep breaths. But the harder you thought about it, after trying not to for so many years, you came to the conclusion that you would’ve ended up here anyway.

Here being the peak of HalfBlood Hill in the middle of September. It was only slightly unusual, because when you usually arrive at the start of summer you get to watch the crowds of arrivals setting up shop at camp. Now, however, it was fairly desolate. Less people, you knew.

It was also a split second shock when you stepped across the border and felt the drastic change in weather. From the cool breeze of the autumn air to the warm summery spring that camp was in year-round. A shift that made you pause, but you kept on down the hill anyway.

Chiron was waiting for you on the porch of the Big House, and without so much as a word, gestured for you to follow him inside. He was fairly understanding of your situation, but made you Iris Message your dad and tell him of your decision. He, too, was more glad you were safe than angry you ran off.

“We can talk about this when you feel like talking.” He’d said.

So you’d done it. Finally, you’d gotten yourself away from the hey hot stuffs and the you seeing anyone baby?s. You were back at camp, you were where you were most happy.

But you weren’t happy.

Being a year-rounder, you’d discovered, was a lot less busy than being a summer camper. You got more days off, longer breaks between activities. You found yourself spending more time in your own company; something you never really got to do before. Most of the time you were with your siblings, or your mortal friends, or you were being hounded by some frat boy and their friends.

It took a minute to get used to the loneliness, but you did. You explored camp, found places you hadn’t seen before. A cute clearing near a stream on the east side of the forest, or a Satyr sanctuary on the far end of the beach. You read more books, you trained a little harder, you perfected six new hairstyles on your little sister Elena and Annabeth from the Athena Cabin.

And yet, you were still pissed off.

“Why?”

Luke Castellan was a name everyone knew in this little corner of Long Island. One of the oldest campers, head counsellor of the rowdiest cabin, token tour guide for the new kids. Oh, and the best swordsman camp had seen in, like, three centuries. He was cute, that much you’d heard all around your cabin. But you’d never really held a solid conversation with him until you became a year-rounder. The fewer people around, the more you run into him.

You’d been practising a few neat tricks with a dagger when he spotted you. Said he was there to train himself for once and that you wouldn’t even notice he was there. You did, though. Especially when he took his shirt off twenty minutes in.

You shared a water break, he asked you why you’d transferred to being a year rounder, and you indulge him in the story. He was super nice about it too, which made you angry. Was Luke the only nice guy on the planet?

“But at least you’re happier now, right?” He’d said. You weren’t, you told him that much. He gave you this knowing look you’d never seen on him before, and asked Why?

You shrugged, “I don’t know. I love it here, I do. But I shouldn’t have to uproot my entire life and bring it here just to get some semblance of peace. I shouldn’t have to give up my education, my friends, my dad, just so I don’t have to get harassed every day. It’s not even like my mom gave me anything to help combat it, either. She just made me beautiful and told me to deal with the consequences! I mean,” You let out a weak chuckle, holding up the dagger you’d been toying with, “This was a birthday present from a friend in Cabin Six. Not even my mother, who is a warrior herself, could bother sending me a weapon. They really don’t give two shits about us, do they?”

He’d parted his lips, eyes shining with something, and looked at you through his bottom lashes, “No. They don’t.”

You and Luke grew closer after that. A lot closer. By the time summer rolled around and the rest of the campers returned, you were inseparable. Many rumours spread but you two ignored them in favour of sneaking into that clearing you’d found and talking in whispers about your hatred for the gods. Who cared if they could hear you? Let them.

It was Luke who had come up with the idea to steal the bolt. A quick job, in and out, and maybe then they’d listen to what you’d have to say. But they didn’t — they did exactly what they always did and risked the lives of two young demigods and a satyr just because they couldn’t be bothered doing it themselves. Selfish — that’s what they were. They didn’t care about anyone —

“ — but themselves!” You glared at Thalia, who stood before you atop Mount Tamalpais with her spear in your direction. “I mean, look at your dad. He didn’t care enough to stop the monsters from killing you, oh, but it’s okay because he turned you into a damn tree!”

“This isn’t the way!” Annabeth yelled from afar. Her hair was twisted in a style you’d taught her how to do that first year as a year-rounder. It broke your heart that she couldn’t see how right you and Luke were.

“Curse them, Thalia.” You said plainly, holding up your dagger. Half mortal metal, half celestial bronze. A gift from Luke. “Curse your father and his children. His brothers. Curse them all like they deserve to be cursed! They deserve to be toppled.”

You tilted your head, looking at them all. Luke and your army were heading steadily up the mountain. If you could convince them now, there wouldn’t need to be a battle.

“Where are they now, huh?” You raised both your arms, “You’re fighting for your life against a titan on a mountain and the only god who came to help out was Artemis? And that’s just because she was here already.” You scoffed out a laugh, “You should thank us, really, for taking her. Had we not, you’d be dead already.”

Annabeth watched. You were unrecognisable in that moment — your face streaked with dirt and blood, curled into a dark sneer that any of your siblings would berate you for because of the wrinkles you’d get. You didn’t seem to care all that much, though. Not when Thalia was lunging for you and attempting to pull you out of the rage you were in. Not when her spear and shield were no match for your measly dagger and you went toppling down the mountain.

The next time any of them saw you was in Manhattan — after believing you to be dead for a year and a half, it came as a shock when you emerged from the crowd of monsters. Your hair was hacked short, and one of your legs had been replaced with a bronze prosthetic. You fought with a ruthlessness none of them had seen in you before, whether it be because you were on the losing side or because Luke had given his body to the Lord of Time before you had the chance to tell him you loved him. You were still angry, and even if you hated Kronos, you didn’t hate him nearly as much as you hated the gods.

When Luke died, you were kneeled beside him. Your face was dirty, your hair was knotty, and there was a dent in your bronze leg. He lifted a hand to your face, “I’m sorry to have to say this, but…you’re sorta beautiful.”

“Sorta?”

He grinned, and then he died, and you were filled with such unbridled rage that you pushed yourself down to the ground of Manhattan and tore through Kronos’ army with fire in your eyes, not stopping until Apollo got rid of your sight and forced you to calm down. You didn’t know if you’d ever be calm, since the only person who ever understood you just died in your arms, but you dropped your dagger and stomped your way back up to Olympus like a bratty child anyway.

Zeus didn’t punish you for what you did, but he did say he’d be keeping a firm eye on you. You joined the hunters, much to your mothers disdain, and didn’t ever allow yourself to look back.

#@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians

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nqify · 2 years ago

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how about french kissing/sloppy/messy makeout hcs? i imagine quaritch would be all for claiming dominance through this lazy, languid energy

like, he'll take his time in kissing u, but he'll do in in the most spit and tongue-heavy way lmao. maybe lots of grabbing and snarling too?? 🤭🥹

BABY UR REQUESTS ARE SO FUCKING GOOD!!! THEY ARE IN MY DRAFTS AS WE SPEAK!! I think this gotta be my favourite one’!!

kissing headcanons. — miles quaritch ☆

pairings. na’vi!miles quaritch. fem!reader

content warnings. just making out. dirty talk. daddy kink. spit play. .

note. i loved writing this omg. I just know miles loves making out. Like who wouldn’t???

miles most definitely loves kissing you. it’s literally the next best thing after sex. his loves to feel you, be close to you, being connected to you. HE LOVES IT ALL!!

he’s so messy when he kisses, spit, salvia everything!! this man cannot keep himself clean. he just loves tasting you!!

let’s just say miles comes home from a tough day at work and just needs to kiss his baby. he is trying to find you, looking around everywhere.

“give daddy a kiss” and ofc u did!!!! just a lil peck and u pull away. HE IS WHINING!! “uh uh baby, I know u can do better then that”

now all of a sudden ur making out. he’d have u straggling him, your thighs spread apart and your hands wrapped around his neck.

headcanon miles to moan in your mouth while y’all are kissing. Like hear me out!! this man is getting so much pleasure while kissing you he just has to let out noise. So when you guys are rlly getting into it he’s all like, “mmm baby”, “a-ah shit”. Ur pussy is going crazy rn.

bc u likes making noise so much he will dirty talk to u while y’all making out. He’s a certified dirty talker OFC HE WILL. He’s exploring your mouth, tongue licking the sides of ur walls, lazily fighting for dominance. He’d pull away, looking into your eyes, “mama, ur gonna let me taste ur pussy next right?” he’s grinning. you rolls your eyes and lean in back to kiss him.

This MF just has to say smth. y’all literally just making out, thinking no sex is gonna be involved but oh no!!!! “fuck baby, u taste so good, gimme some more” like girl, u have to fuck him now?? or he’d be like, “ur so pretty when u let me do this mmm, u like when I kiss u like this baby???” yes I do!!!!!

lowkey loves it when ur on top of him while u guys make out. He gets more access to ur body and can control it more!! He’s gripping ur thighs, nails digging into you or he’d be grabbing your waist, making you grind down on his dick, “feel that baby?? yeah?? u feel this dick huh?” yes u do MFFFFF

fingering with def get involved if ur on top. His hands are wondering to ur panties, he slides them to the side and slowly rubs ur aching clit. ur whining girl. grinding on his hand and everything. HE LOVES IT! now YOUR letting out small whimpers while y’all kiss.

little noises like, “a-ahhh” or “f-fuck mmm” GIRL HE LOVES THAT. his fingers are now deep in ur pussy!! ur literally riding his hand at this point. You’d pull away from miles’ lips to get some air but this fucker don’t like that. “Uh uh baby, u gotta keep kissing daddy” and ur like fine!!!

or when ur riding him, bouncing up and down on his cock, crying out for him. he would take the time out of his day just to kiss you. Like ur getting into it, but no this fucker needs to kiss you. He’d grab your hair and pull you down to him, kissing you so gently. “ur so cute mama, letting me kiss u like this”

like when he’s pussy drunk he needs to kiss you. “baby pls, gimme a kiss, need it bad” and ofc now u gonna kiss him. The kiss is sloppy and messy. Spit is EVERYWHERE!!

speaking of spit, if miles is ever angry at you or punishing you he will spit in ur mouth before kissing you. “open ur mouth up for me ma” UR MOUTH IS HANGING OPEN. He spits in ur mouth and goes in for a kiss. He’s getting sloppy with it omg,

this is where it ties in that he’s a messy kisser. cuz this mf is. he has to have some spit involved. Seeing the spit string the connected y’all together while u guys pull away from eachother GETS HIM GOING. he loves seeing you all messy for him. Like just from kissing you??? one ticket to getting ur brainsFUCKED!!

He goes crazy when you guys kiss in missionary. He feels so connected to you, so close!! He’d have ur thighs pressed against your chest, looking down at u with a lustful intent. he’d awe at ur beauty!!! Ur hair messy, lips puffy and ur face distorted into pleasure. This dude wants to kiss u now!!!! he’d lean down, whispering into ur ear, “ur gonna let daddy kiss you right?? u wanna make him feel good mm?” Ur nodding ur head.

his lips connect ur yours, he’s kissing you with this lazy, languid energy. and ur loving it. the kiss is so deep and so soft. He can’t stop kissing you.

you’d be nearing your release and this fucker is still kissing you, “m-miles mmmm, need to mmmm c-cum mmm” you’d say in between kisses. now this mf does not pull away, his thrusts just become faster. y’all are both moaning and whining into each others mouth. MILES IS GOING CRAZY!!!

dude loves to kiss you while ur cumming. He just gets to hear ur pretty moans up close and personal. Like ur just whimpering into his mouth, shaking underneath him!! he’s like poor baby!!!

he’d eventually pull away but you would whine in response. “awe baby, u want another kiss??” yes U DO!!! “cmon mama, beg for it” GIRL WHAT!!!! “p-please daddy!! gimme kiss pls!!!” he can’t say no to u omg.

again, requests are close mls!!

#miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch x reader #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch #na’vi quaritch #na’vi smut #na’vi #avatar the way of water #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar smut #jake sully smut #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you

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etsuven · 2 years ago

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rating: sm-t cw: none i don't think!! includes: current anemo men as of the end of 3.2 (venti, kazuha, heizou, scaramouche, xiao) modern au, reader is pretty and i'm saying pretty because i think it's gender neutral everyone should be allowed to be called pretty summary: let's rank the anemo men as least to most brattiest subs <3 (also them as lovers!)

note: lets rank the men of my favorite element, anemo!!!!!! we're not reallyy ranking them as bf's only as subs- but uh this is just a small headcannon thing to pass the time between my writing!!! should i do these more often?? maybe you guys should give me headcannon asks (???) idk how to explain it, but i just want to have them as something to schedule or whatever- anyways, feel free to reply with your opinions!! (repost AGAIN bc my last post didn't show up in any tags <3)

xiao

in my opinion, xiao is probably such a sweet boyfriend! even though he's not the best when it comes to talking to people, he always has you there to help him <3 (unless you're also quiet, then he'll be the one to talk for you.) he's not shy, he just doesn't like talking to people.

your innocent kisses on his cheeks and lips get him so flustered sometimes, and even though he's embarrassed by how you ended up catching him off guard so easily, the cute smile on your face makes up for it.

now, i feel that xiao is probably the sweetest sub. much like his in public self, he's not very loud- but that's only because he's hiding his moans. it works for a little bit, but every time you fuck, you end up touching that one spot that makes him moan louder than his hand can hide.

after that, he's unable to hide his noises anymore. instead- he opts for clutching the sheets next to his head or hips. his moans are breathy, with the occasional gasp or groan into the air.

he prefers receiving oral more than giving, but only because he likes how you can so easily reduce him to gasps and almost tears. (also he loves the look you give him from in between his legs)

i feel like he'd like it if you held his hand while fucking him- like he thinks it's intimate and it allows him to feel closer to you (well, he probably can't get closer than literally being inside him/you being inside him, but that's besides the point)

all in all, very sweet, not a brat at all!

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kazuha

kazuha my love my only limited 5 star besides the traveler who's higher than C0.... he's definitely a wonderful boyfriend. he's very kind, sweet, and he has a way with words that make you fall harder for him every time he says them.

he likes to give you sneaky kisses just to watch you jump in shock, and he's definitely the type to be like, "i'm sorry, love, but you were too pretty, i couldn't help it!"

kazuha is also a very sweet sub, and he wants to please you! you wanna touch him until he's on the verge of tears? go ahead! do you want him to sit in between your legs and make you cum as many times as you'd like? well, that's actually his favorite thing to do!

this pretty red clothed man LOVES to please you. in his eyes, he doesn't get to cum until you do. he's very good with his mouth and tongue, and it often leads to some situations where you're a little too distracted to continue your work. after all, how could you focus when there was a gorgeous man with furrowed brows and a flushed face sitting in between your legs?

when you finally get to touching him, you'll find that he has quite pretty moans. they're a bit more on the groany side, but they turn onto full on moans when he really gets into it. he doesn't hide his noises, in fact- he prefers that you hear just how good you were making him feel. you've almost gotten caught many times because of that...

he definitely likes it when you pull his hair. although he makes sure his hair is tied up perfectly when he's in between your legs, a ton of strands will always find their way outside of the previously neat ponytail thanks to your wandering hands... perhaps he should keep his hair down while like that? only to keep it from getting more messy- and definitely not to give you more to pull.

summary: he's very sweet, very attentive. if you'd like, get yourself a lover like him!

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venti

i feel that venti would be a wonderful boyfriend! contrary to popular belief, he isn't the type to date you only to abandon you in the name of freedom. he knows exactly how to cheer you up when you're feeling down, and he knows when to leave you alone when you need space.

he's very energetic, often times chatting your ear off when it comes to something he likes. he also loves giving you random things he finds in stores that remind him of you. you like a certain show? i can guarantee that he will buy a cute little keychain for you and give it to you when you're least expecting it.

if you're the more quiet type, he will gladly speak up for you. he wants you to feel as comfortable as possible.

now i feel that he's lowkey a tease in bed. he likes to leave lingering kisses on your skin just to get you worked up, and when you ask what he's doing, he'll pretend to be oblivious and walk away.

he wants you to throw him down, and the quickest way to get you to do that is to tease you until you can't handle it anymore. light teasing is all he does, as he doesn't want to accidentally annoy you and ruin the mood.

he has THE prettiest moans, kind of high and breathy, and he gets a bit choked up when you touch a particularly sensitive spot. he's also not the type to hide them, but he will do so if you request.

he loves it when you grab him by his hips as a way to keep yourself steady. you always manage to fuck him even harder when your hands are grasping his hips, something he very much enjoys when he just doesn't want to think anymore.

summary? very much a tease, but he knows how to tone it down when he needs to!

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scaramouche/wanderer

SCARAAA!!! thanks for you and your weapon but do you mind coming home one more time, i need you at c1- i don’t know what to call him here, but i’ll just stick with scara for now.

anyways, scara is such a good boyfriend he’s so sweet but it’s like backhanded sweet. like ‘i won’t admit that i really like you and i really want to kiss you but that’s embarrassing to admit so i’ll stay quiet until you do it first’ kind of sweet.

we all know from one of scara’s idle lines that he’s not afraid to speak up. he’s literally like “you didn’t like that? well that’s your problem.” so i feel like he would totally stand up for you if someone were treating you badly. but like he would insult them and leave them questioning if it was really worth messing with you.

he hasn’t experienced many romantic things in his life, as most people were too scared to even go up to him. so when you came along and absolutely turned everything around from how affectionate you were, he was quite shocked.

despite being bold and unafraid of consequences in his usual life, he’s quite shy when it comes to romance. holding hands gets him all embarrassed, the way you look at him like the answer to the life itself is right in front of you makes him so flustered. i can only imagine how he’d be like if you kissed him!

he’d be such an adorable sub, i can already feel it! he’s still a bit of a brat, thanks to remnants of his old personality being retained, he’ll talk back to you, but only because he’s flustered, and he feels that he doesn’t deserve to be touched in such a loving way.

he’ll try to egg you on, little things like “i bet i could do so and so better,” just to have you treat him a little bit harsher. he’s not glass, so don’t treat him so gently! he wants you to turn his mind into mush, he wants you to please him until forgets everything he did that day.

he loves it when you’re able to fuck him until he’s on the verge of passing out. he has quite a bit of stamina- due to not being human and all, so he’s able to go on for a while. he enjoys the feeling of everything building up until it eventually bursts, it’s overwhelming and he can’t help but get addicted to it. waking up to see you tending to him is just a bonus.

but there are times where he’ll be a bit vulnerable, and those are the times where you can be a bit more gentle with him. he won’t talk back, he’ll just embrace you and let you praise him for how good he’s being.

summaryyyyy: he’s a bit of a brat, but at the same time- not really. he’ll talk back, but at the same time he wants to be a good boy for you. it really just depends on what scara you get that day!

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heizou

pretty boy heizou <3 i have him but i don’t really read much on his personality and stuff, so i’m writing this based off of what i saw in his hangout quest.

he’s very much the flirty type of lover, always knowing what to say at certain times to get you all flustered. while he’s an expert at flirting at you, he gets quite embarrassed when you do the same to him.

forehead and back of the hand kisses are his fave, as they’re simple and sweet. though he isn’t opposed to a quick peck on the lips when you’re least expecting it.

as a detective, he is naturally attuned to your needs, knowing exactly what you want based on your body language. if you’re a bit fidgety in public, he’ll guide you away to give you a break. if your hands start to wander during what originally started as a small kiss? that was a sure fire sign that you wanted something more…

heizou is lowkey kind of a brat. the flirty nature of his doesn’t fade away when he’s about to get his brains fucked out, so prepare for him to sweet talk you and tease until he eventually can’t talk anymore.

he’ll always try to annoy you, whether that be by small remarks or outright disobeying you when you want him to do something. but unlike venti, he won’t tone it down. why? he wants you to wreck him. treat him like he’s just a toy for you to use.

his moans are on the sobbier side, as he cries pretty easily. he loves loves LOVES getting pinned down, so feel free to push his arms down into the bed as you’re fucking him so he’s unable to squirm away as he cries and pleads for you to let him cum.

summary: i don’t know much about him but he’s cute! very bratty, but he’s the fun kind of bratty. the kind where you don’t mind because it was so fun seeing him slowly lose his composure.

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