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girlygguk · 3 months ago

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CRAZY | JJK (Part 2)

summary you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst

genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship

word count 13.2k

chapter content [read part one for full character & story warnings pls.] jk & oc first encounter, jungkook lowkey goes a bit yandere in one two of the scenes 😭, jk punches another guy, love at first fuck lets b real, mention of oc's superior abusing their power (not jk), hyungwon appearance 🙄, heejin appearance 🙄, hobi appearance 🎉, bff jiminie appearance 🎉, time skips, jealous mcs, heated argument, jk lies but like... for the greater good? god idk

warnings dom jk, sub oc, pre established traffic light sw system and degradation consent, doggy, dirty talk, protected p in v sex, praise kink, um slight exhibition kink, rough sex, squirting...(on their first fucking encounter yeeeppp help me god)

a/n this is only 75% edited bc i honestly wasn't going to post it for a whilee as i'm working on some other things atm but i felt bad just watching her sit in my drafts all sad n semi finished 😢 alsoo if a bit of the smut dialogue looks a lil familiar... cough salsa.. its bc i was gonna completelyy change up the sexy scene 🥺 and so i used the smut as inspo for the salsa drabble so it didnt go to waste... bye im such a clown. okay thank u, enjoy, and pls lemme know what u think <3 mwah

crazy pt 1 | masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit

801 DAYS AGO

Your twelve-month contract as a temp Administrative Assistant at Jeon Corp was creeping to an end, and it was safe to say that you were fucking pissed.

You had put everything into this place—countless overtime shifts, moved into an overpriced house in the city near the firm so you were never late. You eat, sleep and breathe this fucking company. And what did you get for it? An almost certain rejection, apparently.

You were more than sure they'd offer you a permanent position. Your stats spoke for themselves. They were flawless. You’d single-handedly cleaned up the absolute fucking disaster left behind by the previous administrative assistant who bailed after Jeon Jun-seo’s passing—and that was not light work.

And by "bailed," you meant that they were part of the bloodbath that ensued when Jungkook took over and wiped out almost half the staff for incompetence.

The staff who remained still grumbled about it—loyalists, maybe, or just people too comfortable with the way things used to be. They hated him for it. He was ruthless, sure, but effective. Jeon Corp wasn't just successful; it was dominating. They went from merely hitting targets to blowing right past them. And that shift started with him.

Jungkook was good. Really fucking good.

He was young, driven, passionate, and not to mention—a sight for sore eyes. Even as someone who didn't like to openly praise men, you couldn't help but be impressed.

Still, you knew your fate wasn't in his hands directly. He wasn't going to be the one deciding whether your temp position would become permanent. He was the CEO—too high up to care about such things. And besides, you'd never even spoken to the guy. You spent most of your time on the twelfth floor, and he was always buried in work on the nineteenth.

Except for that one time.

Maybe three months ago? You had shared an elevator with him when you both arrived at work around the same time. For eleven floors, you stood silently beside him. Well, you were silent. He was on the phone, speaking in that low, gravelly tone that had a way of crawling under your skin. Being so close, you could hear the slight slip of a Busan accent when he spoke. He wasn't rude, just... intense.

Even while curses slipped from his lips to whoever was on the other end of the line, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was just his usual tone—whether he was speaking to a business partner, an enemy, a lover. Either way, you didn't think it was negative. It was just him.

You knew bits and pieces about the guy from what Jimin had shared—him being Jungkook’s assistant and all—but nothing too personal. Not that you needed to know. Though, admittedly, he had piqued your interest.

A month prior to that elevator ride, you’d caught a glimpse of something that had you squirming in your seat. From your office, you had glanced over to see him leading a meeting on your floor. His suit jacket had been tossed over the back of his chair, revealing the dirtiest, prettiest fucking sleeve you’d ever laid eyes on. His big, tattooed bicep flexed with each movement as he pointed at the projector screen.

The sight had you groaning, pushing your unfinished lunch aside and retreating to the bathroom.

You’d tried calling your boyfriend, hoping to pull him into some filthy phone sex, but he was too nervous to go through with it. In the end, you hung up frustrated, finishing yourself off in the stall, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

The elevator ride felt quicker than usual. You kept your eyes fixed on the LED screen, watching the numbers tick up, though you were more focused on the way his cologne filled the space, light but somehow intoxicating. By the time the doors slid open on your floor, his call had ended. You adjusted your bag, turning to him with a polite bow.

"Have a good day, seonsaengnim," you'd said, your voice soft as you smiled.

He didn’t say anything back, just looked at you for a second, his dark eyes sweeping over your face. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he gave you a subtle nod, and you walked off, feeling his gaze linger as you left.

And that was it.

You didn't see him again. Not in the lobby, not passing by in meetings, not even when your car and his were the last ones left in the parking lot after late shifts. It wasn't unusual; he was literally the CEO, always busy, always somewhere else. He didn't have time to notice you.

But you couldn’t help but think about it more than you’d like to admit.

If you'd known that you'd never cross paths with him again, never ride the same elevator, never exchange more than those few words before your temp contract ended—would you have done something different? Said something more?

Maybe you would've clicked a higher floor.

But here you were. No offer. No permanence. Just three job offers from other firms sitting in your inbox, waiting for your reply. Of course, you had a backup plan—you weren't that naive. But something about it stung anyway. You'd take one of those offers at the end of the week, move on, and maybe one day, you'd forget about Jeon Corp entirely.

Sigh.

You were really going to miss Jiminie, though.

“So... how's your shift going?”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping as you twisted the cap off your water bottle, taking a sip before tearing the lid off your salad. Your phone sat on your desk, Hyungwon's voice crackling through the speaker.

"It's going good, Hyungwon," you replied, voice tinged with sarcasm. "Same as every day."

A sad chuckle echoed through the receiver. "Oh, yeah? Well, we just got new printers at the firm, you know, the Lexmark MX8s? What about y—"

The forkful of salad that was halfway to your mouth dropped back into the bowl. "Hyungwon," you interrupted, incredulity dripping from your tone. "Did you really call me to talk about printers?"

"Well, I—no, I just—"

You sighed, reaching for your water again and setting your untouched lunch down. "Hyungwon, I hope you're okay, I really do. And I'm happy for you and your fancy printers," yours were two seasons ahead, "but this isn't helping. You're not going to feel better if—"

"I just miss you, Y/N," his voice cracked, and instantly, your appetite evaporated. You let out another deep sigh, rubbing your temples, as Hyungwon's next words came out shaky. "And I just want to know what I did wrong. We were doing so well. W-what did I do?"

"Hyungwon…" You picked up the phone, taking it off speaker as you leaned back in your chair, eyes focused on the ceiling. "You didn't do anything. You're a great guy, okay?"

"Yeah," he scoffed, his voice bitter and teary. "Girls don't break up with 'great guys' after an amazing year together out of the blue, Y/N."

Was it out of the blue? Had it been amazing?

"We've been over this," you sighed, adjusting the phone in your hand. "A hundred times in the last month. It's not about what you did. We just—"

"Weren't right for each other," he finished, his voice robotic, like he was reciting a script he'd memorized against his will. A sniffle followed as you heard him reach for tissues. "Just… wanted you to know I miss you. And… could I come by next week? Pick up my clothes?"

You took a long drink from your water bottle, feeling a headache forming. "I’ll leave it with reception. You can pick it up from the office—"

"No," he cut in, his voice tight with desperation. "Please, from your place. I just… I need to see you one more time."

You exhaled deeply, eyes unfocused as you stared out your floor-to-ceiling window. It had been a month since you ended things with Park Hyungwon—a month since you stuffed his clothes into a box and offered to drop them off. A month of excuses, a month of him putting it off, dragging out these unbearable phone calls, asking to see you in person, to talk.

You knew why he wanted to make the exchange in person. You weren't stupid. But lately, something about his calls had been giving you a bad feeling—a taste in your mouth that lingered long after you hung up. Hyungwon wasn't dangerous. He wouldn't hurt a fly. But he was... off. These calls always followed a pattern.

First, 1:15pm, right when you started your break, your phone would buzz. You'd glance down, see an incoming call from P.H, and immediately regret ever sharing your lunch schedule with him.

Then, he'd be kind. Sweet. Boring. Asking about your shift, your day, until something—something trivial—would break his composure. He'd start to crack, voice shaking, or worse, he'd burst into tears over something like… printers.

By the end of the call, there was always that weird shift. Not angry, not sad… something in between. A mix of emotions that left you unsettled, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why. You could feel the resentment beneath it all, though—like he definitely blamed you for the breakup, no matter how many times he asked what he could've done to keep you.

That was fine. You were used to people resenting you. You were top of your major, gorgeous, and a bit of a bitch. But hearing that tone in Hyungwon's voice? A human puppy dog you'd spent a year of your life with? It made your skin crawl in a way you couldn't shake.

And now, here he was, asking to see you again. For what? Closure? An emotional showdown? You didn't care. You just knew you had to end this, fast. Another call filled with sniffles and pleas, eating away at what little break time you had? You'd throw yourself out that fucking floor-to-ceiling window before you let that happen again.

"Fine," you sighed, glancing at your watch as you switched the phone to your other ear. "You can come over next week. I'll check my schedule."

"Really?" His voice immediately brightened, and you rolled your eyes. "Shivers! That sounds great! Just text me when—"

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat. Shivers? SHIVERS?

"Break's over, Hyungwon," you interrupted, forcing a smile into your voice. "Talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Y/N. I'll call you tomorrow."

The line went dead, and your fist clenched around the phone.

"God," you muttered to yourself, tossing it onto your desk with an exasperated sigh, "I'm changing my fucking break time."

"Should I come back later?"

You yelped at the sudden voice, spinning around in your chair to see your best friend standing in your office doorway, his signature Cheshire grin firmly in place.

"Jiminie!" you beamed, frustration melting away as you rushed over to pull him into a hug. "No, it's okay. It was just—"

"Hyungwon," Jimin finished for you with a knowing, apologetic nod. "You know, you could always just… not answer when he calls?"

You rolled your eyes, brushing a piece of blonde fringe from his face. "And have his suicide on my conscience? No thanks."

"He's a grown man. He can make his own decisions," Jimin shrugged, laughing when you widened your eyes in faux shock.

You shuffled back to your desk, stabbing a cherry tomato from your salad. "Aren't you supposed to be telling me to run back into his arms and admit I was wrong? Some sort of cousin code or something?" you quirked a brow teasingly, humming around the mouthful.

He laughed softly, adjusting the files in his hand. "I'd never tell you to go back to something you were clearly miserable in, Y/N. Even if he is my cousin."

You swallowed another bite, giving him an appreciative smile before finishing the rest of your water bottle. "That is why I love you, Park." You threw the rest of your papers into a folder and linked your arm with his. "And why I'm going to miss you so much." You pouted playfully.

Jimin rolled his eyes, guiding you out of your office. The usual hustle and bustle of level twelve filled the air as he snorted, "Don't say that. You're not going anywhere, Y/N."

"Mm, I beg to differ." You shot back, bitterness lacing your voice. "I haven't heard a word about permanency, and my contract ends in four days." With a dramatic sigh, you added, "Guess you'll just have to visit me at KimCo on your lunch breaks instead."

"First of all," Jimin smirked, "I wouldn't drive across town on my lunch break to visit anyone, even you." You squinted at him as he teased, "And second, yeah, it's shitty that you haven't heard anything about the promotion—"

"And unprofessional," you interjected, rolling your eyes. "And discourteous, and obnoxious, and plain fucking rude—"

He chuckled, cutting you off with a light shrug. "Yes, all of the above," he agreed as you both reached the elevators. Unlinking his arm from yours, he pressed the button to go up. "But… have you accepted the offer at KimCo yet?"

You frowned, glancing at the lit-up arrow pointing up. "No, not yet. I was going to tonight…" You trailed off, turning to him in confusion. "Jiminie, why are we going up? Our meeting's on level seven."

Jimin glanced down at the file in his hand before his mouth opened to respond, but the elevator dinged, catching your attention.

The doors slid open, and you were immediately hit with the faint scent of tobacco and Bvlgari. Your head turned slightly, seeking the source.

Jungkook stood inside, eyes focused on the phone in his hand, dressed in a perfectly pressed designer suit that somehow looked more sinfully casual on him than it had any right to.

You blinked, tearing your gaze away from him and turning back to Jimin, waiting for an explanation.

"Oh yeah, uh, the meeting's been pushed back a bit," Jimin said, nodding to the elevator. "But you're needed upstairs for a moment."

You frowned, glancing down at the heavy folder in your hands as you stepped into the elevator. If the meeting was postponed, you wouldn't have dragged this big fucking thing around with you. You left some space between yourself and the CEO and Jimin happily slid in between, his usual smile bright and easy.

The doors closed, and silence settled over the small space. Jungkook was still looking at his phone. Jimin still hadn't pressed a button.

You frowned. "Jiminie, why haven't you clicked a floor?"

He turned toward you, feigning confusion as his eyes flicked toward the panel. "Oh, because it's already pressed." He shrugged, flashing a quick smile before turning forward again.

You stared harder at the panel. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jungkook's broad frame. His phone was tucked away now, but his gaze remained fixed straight ahead. He hadn't said a word.

"Level nineteen?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

Jimin nodded, offering you a simple smile.

The elevator crawled its way up slowly with a few more words exchanged between you and Jimin. Then, finally, the elevator dinged open at level nineteen, and the air shifted.

The sleek, pristine hallway stretched out before you, polished floors gleaming so bright that you could almost see your reflection in the tiles. You had only been here once before, for a department meeting with the CCO, Kim Namjoon.

Jimin politely bowed to his boss as you instinctively stepped back, allowing Jungkook to exit first. His gaze never wavered as he nodded in acknowledgment, his movements calm as he stepped out.

As you followed Jimin down the hall, you couldn't help but notice how eerily quiet everything was. The glass-paneled meeting rooms stood empty, the reception desk vacant. The last time you were here, the place had life, but now… nothing.

Jungkook disappeared into his office without a word while you and Jimin continued walking. Your confusion only deepened as you glanced through the glass panes into all the very empty meeting rooms.

Jimin slowed at the entryway to Jungkook's office.

"Jiminie, what's going on?" you asked, gently grabbing his arm. "Am I supposed to have a meeting with Jeon Jungkook-seonsaengnim? Why wasn't I informed? I need to know what's required—"

"Y/N," Jimin interrupted softly, his hand covering yours reassuringly. "I'll explain soon, okay? I know it's last minute, and I'm sorry for that. Let me just make sure everything is on track." He smiled at you before gesturing to the plush seats outside the office. "Take a seat. I won't be long."

You hesitated, but trusting your best friend, you nodded, setting your folder on the table before sitting down. Jimin gave you one last encouraging smile before disappearing inside Jungkook's office, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Your eyes darted around the hallway as you waited, the clean surroundings feeling almost too sterile, too perfect. The glass walls of Jungkook's office made it impossible not to glance inside. You caught a glimpse of him flipping through a file, his expression focused, detached. Jimin approached him, placing his own file down on the desk as the two exchanged quiet words.

Jimin greeted his boss again with a respectful bow. "Seonsaengnim," he smiled, placing the file in front of Jungkook.

Jungkook didn't look up from the papers he was thumbing through. "Is she waiting for me?"

"Yes, sir," Jimin replied, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. "You have about thirty minutes before the board meeting, so I thought now could be a good time for you to meet with Y/LN Y/N… The temp administrative assistant from level twelve? Her contract ends in—"

"Four days," Jungkook finished, finally closing the file in front of him. He reached for the one Jimin had brought, flipping it open. "Why hasn't her contract been extended? Her performance is strong, and she has streamlined operations in her department. Does she not wish to stay with the company?"

"She does, sir," Jimin nodded. "But I was informed by Namjoon-seonsaengnim's assistant that Lee Dohyun does not plan to extend her contract. He intends to let it end."

Jungkook's brow twitched slightly, his eyes narrowing as he flipped through the papers. "And why does Dohyun plan to do that? She's efficient, profitable. She cleaned up the mess the last administrative assistant left behind." His tone was clipped, irritation poorly masked.

Jimin shifted on his feet, the hint of hesitation visible in his posture. "I'm not entirely sure, sir. It's mostly hearsay, but…" he cleared his throat, glancing at Jungkook before continuing cautiously, "there's a rumor that she rejected one of Dohyun's advances a few months ago. Since then, word has flown around that he's been less than accommodating toward her."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his fingers stopping their idle flipping as his gaze snapped back to Jimin. "So, he's punishing her for not entertaining him?"

Jimin's silence was enough of an answer.

Jungkook's jaw clenched, the tension in his shoulders building. He flipped the file shut, the subtle thud of the paper echoing in the quiet office.

"Why have you brought her to me, Jimin?" he asked, shooting a sharp look at his assistant. "There's a chain of command. At least six people between Dohyun and me."

"There are," Jimin acknowledged. "But some months ago, you mentioned noticing a significant increase in productivity and efficiency in Administration… You said the improvements could be attributed to the new assistant's work. I just thought considering her contract ends in four days, you'd want to meet her personally before she accepts another offer."

Jungkook leaned back against his desk, glancing at the glass door where you were sitting, your legs crossed, eyes absentmindedly focused on a strand of your hair. His gaze flicked over your tight black pencil skirt, the cream blouse that hugged your figure, the neat ponytail held in place by four bobby pins.

"She's very good," he admitted, eyes dropping back to the folder. "But I don't meddle in the hiring department. Tell Dohyun to reconsider his decision."

Jimin shifted slightly. "He's on leave for the rest of the week, sir."

Jungkook sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Then go to the next in command, Jimin. I'm not—"

"She's accepting an offer from another firm tonight, Jungkook," Jimin said quickly, catching himself. "Jungkook-seonsaengnim," he corrected. "Once she signs the contract with KimCo, there won't be time to make a counteroffer."

Jungkook went quiet; his eyes focused on the closed folder in front of him as Jimin pressed on. "Just five minutes, sir. That's all she needs."

Jungkook's eyes flicked up to meet Jimin's. He rolled his eyes, leaning back on his desk, arms crossing over his chest. "You're supposed to make my life easier, not harder, Park."

Jimin couldn't help but grin, looking over his shoulder to catch you glancing down at your Apple watch. He bit back a snicker when you rolled your eyes, clearly getting impatient.

"She'd be a big loss, seonsaengnim," Jimin said honestly as he turned back to his boss. "I believe I'm making your life easier. You live, eat, and breathe this company."

Jungkook groaned, closing his eyes briefly before nodding. "Send her in. Five minutes."

"Thank you, seonsaengnim." Jimin bowed, turning toward the door.

"Jimin," Jungkook called out, his assistant's hand freezing on the handle.

"Yes, sir?"

"Draft effective immediate termination papers for Lee Dohyun and put them on my desk when you leave for the night."

Jimin bit back a grin. "Yes, sir."

You straightened in your seat as soon as you saw Jimin approaching, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He looked like the cat that caught the canary, and you didn't trust it for a second.

"Y/N, this way, please—"

"No," you snapped, swatting his outstretched hand away. "Brief me."

There was no way you were walking into a meeting with the fucking CEO without any preparation. Was he fucking high?

Jimin chuckled softly, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Relax, Y/N. It'll only take a few minutes. Jungkook's not much of a talker…" He reached out again, and you batted his hand away once more.

He laughed again, then pouted, blinking at you with wide, innocent eyes. "Please, Y/N? Just trust me."

"God, you're a cunt," you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare as you stood and smoothed your skirt. Reluctantly, you started toward the office.

"Unprofessional…" Jimin teased with a grin, snickering when you turned and mouthed 'get fucked' at him before stepping inside.

The glass doors clicked softly behind you as you entered the impeccably tidy office. "Seonsaengnim," you greeted with a bow. “Y/LN Y/N. It's nice to formally meet you."

Jungkook barely glanced up, his dark eyes sweeping over you for just a moment before he dropped them back down to the file on his desk.

His nod was curt, his voice low and indifferent. "Jeon Jungkook," he said, as if his name wasn't already plastered across every inch of this building.

When he gestured toward the seat in front of his desk, you sat down, crossing your legs as he settled back into his chair. His attention returned to the open file. "Your contract ends in four days."

"Yes, sir," you nodded, hands resting in your lap as you held back any trace of bitterness.

"Do you not wish to stay here?" His voice was steady as his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

You blinked, a little surprised by the question. "No, sir. I do wish to stay. But I haven't heard anything from management regarding a permanent position."

"Who do you report to?" Jungkook asked, though you were sure he already knew the answer.

"Lee Dohyun-seonsaengnim."

He leaned back in his chair, drumming his tattooed fingers lightly against the desk as he skimmed the file. "Your work is impressive."

"Thank you, sir." You smiled softly, ignoring how those four simple words made your stomach flip. "That means a lot coming from you."

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he closed the file and set it aside. "Y/LN Y/N," he said, his voice calm, "Why do you think your contract hasn't been extended?"

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "I'm not entirely sure, seonsaengnim."

Jungkook hummed. "You've been here almost a year. Your work speaks for itself. Yet your contract hasn't been extended." His gaze locked on yours, and for a second, he almost looked genuinely interested. "Why?"

You inhaled slowly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. "I've heard rumors, sir. But I'm not one hundred percent certain."

An eyebrow arched, and Jungkook tilted his head slightly. "Let's say the rumors are true. Do you think personal reasons should outweigh performance?"

"No, sir," you answered steadily. "But I don't control the decisions."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with amusement. Whether he appreciated your honesty or just liked watching you squirm, you weren't sure. "Do you plan on accepting an offer from another company, Y/N?"

You gave a slight nod. "Yes, sir. My first choice is KimCo. They've offered me a permanent coordinator role in their administration department. I plan on sending my letter of acceptance tonight, after my shift."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes roaming over you lazily, but enough that it was impossible not to notice. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" he asked finally, his voice casual as he leaned back in his chair. "Or are you happy to go to KimCo?"

"I would prefer to stay, sir," you said, holding his gaze. "If Jeon Corp is willing to match the salary offer and I'm guaranteed a permanent position."

"What's the offer?"

"₩67m, sir."

Jungkook's expression didn't change. "We can do eighty."

"Wha—"

"I'll have your permanent administrative coordinator contract drafted by tonight and emailed to you. Will that work?"

It took you a second to process his words before you blinked in surprise. "Yes, sir," you replied, fighting to keep the smile tugging at your lips in check. "It would."

Jungkook leaned back further in his chair, his eyes flicking over you once more, lingering in a way that wasn't accidental. Then, with a simple nod, he closed the file in front of him. "Good. I'll expect your response by tomorrow morning."

You still don't really know how it happened.

Maybe it started when you stood to give him a polite bow before leaving his office, and he reached out for a handshake at the exact same moment. His cold hand accidentally brushed against the side of your inner breast through your blouse as you leaned forward, and suddenly, both of you froze.

Jungkook pulled his hand back sharply, his brows furrowing as he stared down at the file on his desk like it was the most interesting thing in the world, muttering a low apology, his usual confident tone suddenly gone.

It was... so cute.

Seeing the man who looked like he could ruin your life with just a snap of his fingers suddenly all shy and flustered as if he was more embarrassed than you were? Fucking adorable.

Maybe it was his instinct to avoid an HR complaint, to maintain professionalism in what could have been misconstrued as an inappropriate touch.

But you weren't going to misconstrue it. It was an accident.

And, honestly... you always were kind of a sucker for bad boys with soft eyes.

"Fucking goodddd!!!" you moaned, your voice barely coherent as your cheek pressed against the cold surface of his desk. Each relentless thrust from Jungkook had your body jiggling under him, your mind lost in a haze as his hips slammed into you without mercy. "S-so fucking b-biiiiig."

Your eyes rolled back, throat raw from the croaky whimpers that escaped between each ragged breath. His hand was firm on the back of your head, keeping you pinned down, helpless as he took you apart, piece by piece.

"I know, baby," he cooed, his voice laced with that condescending pout that only made you clench harder around him. "I know it's big, baby. But you can take it, can't you?"

His fingers tangled in your hair, brushing lightly over your flushed cheek in a teasing, mocking pat. Then, without warning, he pulled back and slammed into you harder, deeper, until you felt him hit that spot. That fucking spottt. Your breath caught in your throat as he didn't stop, didn't let up, just kept going, over and over and over.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, nails scraping into the polished wood of his desk until you felt the lacquer gathering beneath your fingernails. The loud, wet slaps of his hips against your ass echoed through the room, his heavy balls smacking into your swollen clit.

"'Course you can take it. 'Cause you're such a hard worker, hm? Such an overachiever, aren't you, baby." His voice dripped with dark amusement, each taunting word sending shivers down your spine. His hand pressed your head harder into the desk, the weight of him leaving you trembling, drool pooling on the wood beneath you as you gasped and whimpered, completely at his mercy.

"You can take it, Y/N. Know you can," he murmured, every word like a filthy promise, his gaze locked on the way your body was surrendering to him, giving him everything. He wasn’t going to stop until you broke. Until you were his.

"Color, baby." He growled into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He hummed in delight when he felt you swallow, your gasps feeding into his satisfaction.

"Green," you choked out, barely able to form the words. "Do anything to me. Green, fucking green to it all," you cried, voice raw as tears blurred your vision, and Jungkook groaned, teeth grazing the delicate skin of your throat in approval.

His grip tightened in your hair again, yanking you upright until your back was flush against his chest. "G-g-godddddd," you choked out, body trembling, tears threatening to spill as his thrusts grew quicker, more brutal, each one slamming harder and louder, drowning out everything else.

Your hands shot up, clawing desperately at the back of his neck as you tried to hold on, your body burning from the inside out as he destroyed you. His lips ghosted over the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin just as his hand slipped down your stomach, his fingers finding your swollen, slippery clit with ease.

Jungkook's pace became punishing, driving into you harder and faster, your body quivering under his touch. His lips brushed lazily over your neck, whispering filthy praise into your ear as his fingers circled your clit, sending a jolt through your entire body. The wet, sloppy sounds of his hips smacking into your ass filled the room, each thrust sending you closer to the edge.

"F-fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, your voice cracking as his pace quickened even more at the sound of his name on your lips. "It's s-so… fuck…"

He groaned low in your ear, his hand fisting your hair tighter, yanking your head back as his hips crashed into you over and over. "So good, Y/N baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with lust. "You're doing so fucking well. Taking it so good."

The praise made your throat bob, your entire body teetering on the edge of collapse. You couldn't think of anything but him—full, Jungkook, full, Jungkook. It was all-consuming, the only thing that mattered.

You weren't just wet anymore—you were disgustingly soaked, your arousal dripping down your thighs, mixing with the sweat on your skin as he ruined you. You let out a sob as tears streaked down your cheeks, your mascara no doubt smeared beyond repair as your entire body burned with pleasure.

"Careful, baby," he hummed darkly, voice tinged with amusement. "Don't want anyone to hear you, huh. Coming to check if you're okay..."

Your eyes flicked toward the glass doors, your head lolling back into the crook of his neck as you realized the vulnerability of your position. Fucked out, skirt bunched up around your waist, tits spilling over your bra, completely on display and helpless in his arms—holy fuck. The idea of someone seeing you like this had your thighs pathetically trembling as you felt yourself get even wetter. Sicko.

"S-sir," you stammered, the words forced out between his relentless thrusts that threw your body forward. "Cl-close the blinds."

Jungkook's lips curled into a smile against your neck at the lack of conviction in your words. Fucking perfect. His breath was warm as he whispered, "Why would I want to do that?" His hand slid to your chin, his fingers gripping firmly as he forced your eyes to the glass. "Y'look so fucking pretty, Y/N. Who would want to hide all that?"

Humiliation mixed with need, making your core throb even harder. The reflection of your wrecked form stared back at you—trembling, sweaty, makeup running down your tear-streaked face.

Well, he wasn't wrong. You did look kind of pretty.

The thought of how many other women had been in this same position with him briefly slithered through your mind, but you whimpered, pushing it away.

"H-harder, Jungkook… please," you gasped, voice a broken plea. "P-please, baby?"

That was all it took. His low groan vibrated through you, his hands gripping your waist tight as he snapped his hips into you with a force that made the desk rattle beneath your hands. One hand cupped your breast, tugging harshly at your nipple, while the other slipped down to mercilessly slap at your clit over and over.

"Shit, shit, shit, shittttt!" you sobbed, your voice high and broken, pleasure tearing through your body.

"You're close, aren't you?" Jungkook rasped, his voice rough as his thrusts grew erratic, harder, faster. "Getting so fucking tight around me. Gonna come for me, aren't you, baby?"

Your mind was gone. You couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of him inside you, stretching you, filling you, owning you. "J-Jungkook..." you slurred, your head falling back against his chest, "please make me come, baby, pleasepleasepleaseeee."

Jungkook's arms tightened around your trembling body, and in one quick motion, he sat back in his office chair, pulling you down into his lap. You cried out as his hands hooked under the back of your knees, planting his feet on the ground and spreading your legs wide, completely open, and facing the see-through fucking doors.

He didn't give you a second to breathe before he started pounding into you again, his fat cock hitting so deep at the new angle that your body shook uncontrollably. You couldn't even hear your own cries—just the wet, obscene slapping of skin and Jungkook's gorgeous groans in your ear.

"Rub your fucking clit," he commanded, his voice thick with urgency. "Come. Now, Y/N. Fucking come."

Your hand flew to your clit, trembling fingers rubbing furiously, slipping because you were so fucking wet. "Jungkook," you gasped, voice breaking, tears pouring down your cheeks.

"No, baby, f-fuckkk, I'm sor—" You couldn't stop the sobs, your body convulsing as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you. "Jungkook, I'm—I'm so sorry, ahhhh fuckkk! I-I'm gonna squirt, oh my goddddd!"

"Fuck, yes," he growled, and just as your body started to seize up, his hand shot down, pressing hard on your lower belly and bladder, right where he was buried deep inside you. His hips didn't relent, pounding into you with the same brutal pace.

The pressure on your abdomen made everything inside you snap. Your scream tore through his office as your walls clamped down hard on him, your body shaking violently as your hand trembled, losing its grip on your clit. You came so hard that your hand slipped away entirely, but before the overwhelming release could fade, Jungkook's hand was there, replacing yours instantly. His fingers rubbed your swollen clit with intense pressure, refusing to let you stop.

"Fuckk, look at that fucking pussy, Y/N," he growled as he slapped your pulsing clit over and over. "Keep going, fuck, keep squirting on my fucking dick, baby, holy shittttt."

The filthy command tipped you over the edge again. The sensation was too much, and you started to gush even harder. Wetness sprayed everywhere, soaking his lap, drenching the desk. You were fucking gone.

"Holy fuck," Jungkook choked out at the sight of your cunt gushing out liquid, his hips jerking erratically as his body tensed beneath you. He came hard into the condom with a deep, broken groan, his grip on you tight as he rode out his release, still rubbing your clit with nasty, unrelenting strokes, making sure you didn't stop.

Your body convulsed violently, your legs shaking uncontrollably as he kept rubbing, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you were a trembling, sobbing mess. His big hand cupped over your warm pussy, feeling it throb beneath his palm as he slowed his thrusts, easing you through the last shudders of your release.

"My godddd," he growled, his voice raw with awe as he moved his hand and looked down at the mess you'd made. Your quivering pussy, glistening and red, his slacks drenched, the chair wet, and even some paperwork on the desk soaked through.

Fuck, he groaned internally. He's obsessed.

Your chest heaved as you slumped against him, completely spent, your head falling onto his shoulder. Jungkook’s hands glided up and down your trembling thighs, suppressing the smile tugging at his lips as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you together.

"Well done," he murmured, his lips grazing your forehead before pressing a soft kiss there. You could still feel his heart racing against your skin as you tried to catch your breath.

"Seonsaengnim," you muttered, still panting, "I'm so sorry about your papers—"

"Shut up," Jungkook cut you off with a roll of his eyes, your sudden shift to formalities clearly grating on him. His hands continued their soothing path over your stomach, fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin before he gently adjusted your legs on his lap. His strong thighs kept your feet dangling above the floor, his touch softening as he patted your belly absentmindedly, his voice easing. "It’s alright."

You tried to gather yourself, your mind still spinning. "I haven't done that in a while," you mumbled into his neck, the words slipping out without thought. "God."

Jungkook swallowed hard, suppressing the mix of emotions rising in his chest. Pride at making you feel this way. Anger at knowing someone else had. His jaw clenched briefly before he cleared his throat, forcing a casual hum of acknowledgment. "Good."

He patted your belly a couple more times, as though resetting his focus. "You okay to get dressed?" he asked, his voice slipping into something nonchalant, though the grip on your thighs lingered a moment longer than necessary. "I've got a meeting soon."

You cleared your throat and nodded, feeling a little unsteady as you began to push yourself up from his lap. His hands helped guide you as you stood, and you winced slightly as he slipped out of you, leaving you feeling oddly empty. Your legs wobbled beneath you, but you ignored the sensation, letting your skirt fall back into place. You glanced around the room, searching for your panties.

You crouched down, looking under the chair, then the desk, even flipping through some of the papers on his desk, but there was no sign of them.

"Have you seen my…?" you trailed off, turning to look at him, feeling the confusion settle in as you noticed his casual indifference. Jungkook, now having disposed of the condom, zipped up his slacks with an air of calmness that seemed just a bit too casual for your liking.

You raised a brow, suspicion growing. His expression mirrored yours with a glint in his eyes.

"Where are they?" you asked, narrowing your gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he straightened his shirt. Then, he casually slipped his hands into his pockets, and that's when you caught the faintest flicker of black lace peeking out from one of them.

You scoffed, stepping toward him, but before you could snatch them back, Jungkook caught your hand. He snickered softly as he brought it to his lips, pressing a mocking kiss to your knuckles.

“01J09. Lock the door when you leave, Y/N." His tone was commanding but light as he slipped past you, grabbing his suit jacket as if nothing had happened. He gave you one last look before walking out of the room, leaving you standing in the middle of his messed-up office.

You slumped back into his chair with a huff, quickly adjusting your bra and buttoning your blouse. As you started to tidy the room, you found some disinfectant wipes in a cupboard and began cleaning the desk, trying to distract yourself.

The sound of the door opening behind you startled you, and you quickly turned, assuming Jungkook had returned. But when you locked eyes with your best friend smirking widely at the scene, your stomach dropped.

"You fucking slut!" Jimin shouted, closing the door behind him as he made his way toward you, cupping your face with both hands. His grin was bright, teasing, as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Holy shit! I'm mortified that I just walked past and saw my best friend getting railed by my boss… but I'm also so fucking happy! So, are you staying? Are you guys a thing? How did it happen? Holy fuck—"

"Jiminie," you whined, pulling his hands away and turning back to the desk to finish cleaning, "I'll tell you later. My legs hurt, and we need to get to the meeting—"

"The meeting's over," Jimin interrupted with a snicker, "it's been an hour."

"What the fuck?!" Panic washed over you as you turned to face him, eyes wide.

Jimin just shrugged, still wearing that smug smile. "It's fine, Y/N. I took notes; they're on our shared drive. It wasn't anything important. Definitely not as important as the 'meeting' you were in."

You snorted, tossing the used wipes into the bin and slipping your heels back on as you made your way toward the door, legs still shaky. "Jesus, Jimin, I can barely walk."

"I noticed," Jimin teased, his voice full of amusement. "Want me to carry you?"

"No thanks," you replied quickly, shuddering at the thought. "I'd rather crawl than have anyone see you carry me out of here."

"Are you at least going to the bathroom to fix your hair and makeup?" he asked, eyeing you critically. "You look like you were attacked by a swarm of wasps..."

You groaned. "Yes, Jiminie. I'm going to the bathroom. Now stop pestering me, or you'll be having movie night alone tomorrow."

His smirk softened into a playful smile. "Okay, okay. I'll wait for you in your office."

You waited for him to leave before entering the pin code to lock Jungkook's office door. After hearing the beep and confirming the door was secure, you turned to head toward the bathroom, only to find Jimin still blocking your path, brows furrowed and eyes wide.

"Jimin-ah, move—"

"He gave you the code to his office?" Jimin's voice was serious now, the lightheartedness from earlier gone.

You blinked at him, confused by the sudden shift in his tone. "Yes. Can you please move?"

Jimin didn't budge. His frown deepened as he processed the information. “Y/N… He doesn't just give the code to his office out. To anyone."

Your stomach twisted at his words. "Maybe he'll change it later. He said he had a meeting to go to—"

Jimin shook his head. "He hasn't changed that code since he took over. And… he just canceled his meetings for this afternoon. I thought it was because…"

The sinking feeling in your stomach grew worse. Of course, Jungkook lied and just wanted to leave. What was he supposed to do—sit there and cuddle you? Offer you aftercare? This wasn't new for him. You weren't special. Just another woman in a long line.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the bile rising in your throat. "Jiminie, can I… meet you downstairs? I need to go to the bathroom."

Jimin's expression softened instantly, his hand reaching out to brush some hair from your face before leaning in to kiss your forehead. "Okay, love. I'll get you some water and wait in your office."

You thanked him quietly before heading to the bathroom, locking the door before you leaned heavily against the sink. Staring at your reflection, you sighed at the sight. Your sleek ponytail was merely a distant memory, makeup smeared beyond repair. And there, on your neck, was a deep hickey blooming against your skin.

"Idiot," you muttered to yourself as you turned the tap on, starting to scrub your face clean in attempt to erase every trace of what just happened.

What was happening to you? You never let stuff like this get to you. You'd had more than your fair share of one-night stands, and you knew better than to let them mean anything. It was nothing to him, and it should've been nothing to you.

But god, it felt like so much more than nothing.

"Idiotttt," you muttered again, this time more frustrated. As you aggressively wiped away the mascara and dried tears, your eyes kept drifting back to the hickey. You sighed, knowing you had no makeup to cover it until you got back to your office.

With a huff, you walked toward the toilet and sat down, your hand grazing the mark on your neck while you peed. The memory of his lips still lingered fresh in your mind, and the longer you sat there, the more the reality of it all began to sink in.

Fuck, you groaned internally. You're obsessed.

Jungkook pulled the keys from the ignition, stepping out of his car and adjusting the collar of his suit jacket when it shifted out of place. The door clicked shut behind him as he locked the Mercedes, casually slipping his phone into his pocket—right next to your panties, still snug in the black fabric of his slacks.

When he reached the reception desk, a fake redhead sat behind it, focused on a stack of paperwork. She didn’t notice him at first, not until the sound of his footsteps caught her attention. The moment her eyes met his, Jungkook noticed the way she straightened in her seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted, her voice sweet but dripping with an attempt at seduction. “Welcome to Jang Merriott. How can I be of service?”

Jungkook swallowed the grimace threatening to surface, but his lips curved into that fake, charming smile he’d perfected for work events. “Hi, darling.” His voice was smooth, just the right amount of warmth. “I’m here for a business meeting, but I’m so silly...” He leaned in slightly, watching her eyes widen. His voice dropped to a lower, more intimate tone. “I forgot which room it’s in. Think you could help me?”

His eyes flicked to her nametag—Cho Minju—and when he looked back, he could practically see her mind spinning. “I-I…” she stammered, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Do you have the name of the—”

“Lee Dohyun,” Jungkook answered easily, not missing the way she gulped when he added softly, “Thank you, baby.”

“L-Lee Dohyun,” she echoed nervously, typing the name into the system with shaky fingers. Then she paused, biting her lip. “I, um… I really shouldn’t if you aren’t—if you’re not on the guest list…”

“It would really help me out, Minju-yah,” Jungkook murmured, his voice taking on a softer, boyish edge. His brows furrowed just slightly as he leaned in a touch more, looking at her through his lashes. “If I’m late, Dohyun-seonsaengnim will kill me… I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Her wide eyes blinked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. He could see the internal battle playing out in her head—protocol versus the hot guy in front of her. Predictably, protocol lost.

“Floor 13, room 304,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed.

“Thank you, baby,” Jungkook replied with a charming smile, slipping a hundred-dollar bill into her tip jar before walking toward the elevator. Minju’s breath caught again as he turned and walked toward the elevator, not looking back once.

As the elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, Jungkook’s facade dropped, and he let out a small, amused scoff. He thought that was going to cost him at least a couple grand.

The elevator hummed softly as it ascended. When the monotone voice announced floor 13, the doors slid open, revealing a quiet, plush carpeted hallway. Jungkook strode out, his eyes narrowing slightly as he made his way to room 304.

“Jungkook-seonsaengnim?” Dohyun’s voice cracked in surprise when he opened the door, eyes widening at the unexpected sight of his boss. “I’m on leave, sir, is everything oka—”

The words barely left his mouth before Jungkook’s fist connected sharply with the side of his jaw. The force of the blow sent Dohyun crashing to the ground, his head snapping back as he sprawled out, half-dangling outside the doorway. His feet splayed awkwardly on the floor, barely moving. Jungkook nudged his limp body inside with the toe of his polished shoe, stepping over him as he calmly closed the door behind him with a soft click.

“Everything’s fine, Dohyun.” Jungkook’s voice was casual, almost too calm, as he crouched down to level his gaze with the man on the floor. Dohyun was clutching his jaw, eyes wide with terror, blinking back tears as he struggled to sit up. Confusion mixed with fear spread across his face, trembling as he tried to find his words.

Jungkook tilted his head, a slow, cold smirk pulling at his lips. "Great, actually," he continued, the menace in his voice unmistakable. His eyes flickered over the man on the ground as if he were nothing more than something to be dealt with. “And it’ll be even better in a second.”

TODAY

The soft click of heels against tile echoed down the pristine hall of level nineteen. Jimin and Hobi were either side of you, all three of you deep in conversation about Jimin's latest epic love saga.

“And afterward, we went and got ice cream,” Jimin sighed, a dreamy smile spreading across his lips. “And he even paid for my cone. I think he’s the one.”

You and Hobi shared a knowing look before turning back to him. Hobi giggled, shaking his head, while you leaned your head on Jimin’s shoulder, smiling warmly. “I’m sure he is, honey. Was it at least a double scoop?”

Jimin beamed, nodding enthusiastically, but his excitement faltered the second he caught the teasing smirks plastered on your and Hobi’s faces. His expression morphed into a pout as he narrowed his eyes at the both of you.

"Whatever. Just because you—" Jimin shot a pointed look at Hobi, "—don’t sleep with anyone more than once because of your deep-rooted commitment issues, and you—" he turned his accusing gaze to you, "—have found the only person in Seoul as crazy and fucked up as you to spend the rest of your life with, doesn’t make Min Yoongi any less of a perfect prince."

Hoseok grunted, crossing his arms dramatically as you broke into laughter. "You're not wrong," you hummed with a shrug, right as Hobi muttered defensively, "I don't have commitment issues."

It was Hobi’s turn to receive knowing looks from both of you before he sighed, dramatically slowing his pace as you reached the entrance of the meeting room. "Whatever, you guys suck."

Snickering softly, the three of you stepped inside, bowing politely to the handful of executives already seated around the large meeting table. As usual, the three of you were early, but you noticed that a few others had already claimed their seats. Unfortunately, there weren’t three consecutive spots left for you all to sit together.

Your gaze immediately went to the head of the table, the seat reserved for the CEO, which was still empty. You knew Jungkook was in a meeting with Kim Namjoon that had run overtime, so their arrival was indefinitely delayed.

The seat closest to the CEO’s chair—Namjoon’s usual spot—was unoccupied, but the one on the opposite end, typically claimed by you, Jimin, or Hobi, was already taken. You felt your blood boil when you saw Heejin, the newly appointed temp head of Communications while Sana Minatozaki was on maternity leave, sitting there comfortably, scrolling through a document on her laptop.

Jimin caught your eye, noticing Heejin as well, and gestured toward the chair next to her, silently offering it to you. You just shook your head, flashing a small smile as if to say, no fucking thanks. He and Hobi settled into two seats beside each other, leaving you to scan the rest of the room for an available spot.

Your options weren’t great.

A middle seat between Hailey and Vernon—two relentless chatterboxes from levels three and four—caught your eye. You grimaced immediately at the thought of being dragged into their non-stop, ping-pong conversation about god knows what. They could probably talk about fucking office supplies for hours if given the chance.

Then your gaze shifted to the next option: a seat next to Kang Minho, the scruffy finance head. As expected, he was already twirling a cigar between his fingers, his eyes twitching in clear defiance of the new no-smoking rule in meetings. The urge to light it was practically vibrating off him.

You sighed.

That left the only bearable choice: a seat next to Oh Sehun, the head of Technology and Innovation. He was known to be quiet and professional, and most importantly, he's least likely to annoy you.

Resigned, you pulled the chair next to Sehun, placing your laptop and phone on the table in front of you. He glanced over with a polite smile, nodding in greeting. You returned the gesture, settling into your seat and immediately focusing on starting up your laptop.

The room settled into a quiet lull, with only a few hushed conversations breaking the silence. Most of the attendees were either finishing up side discussions or preparing for the meeting as they trickled in. As your laptop booted up, you instinctively picked up your phone, slipping it under the table. Your fingers moved quickly, opening the location app and tapping on Jungkook’s name. The pin was still loading when you heard a throat clear beside you.

Oh, here we fucking go.

“Y/N-ssi?”

You locked your phone and turned toward Sehun with a forced smile. "Yes, Sehun-ssi. How can I help?"

His smile widened slightly, a little shy. "Uh, I just wanted to say… congratulations. Your promotion to Head of Operations & Efficiency—it's no small feat. Not an easy title to earn or handle. But I've seen your work, and it's… admirable. Truly."

You almost frowned, caught off guard. That was… really sweet.

"Oh," you replied, your voice softening. "Thank you, Sehun-ssi, that’s very kind of you. I appreciate it a lot." You smiled genuinely this time. "And I’ve heard a lot about you, too. Running your department is also no easy task, and you do it well."

Sehun grinned, his head dipping slightly as his ears turned a bit red. "Ah, thank you so much," he murmured, looking humbled. "I’ve learned a lot from our CEO, Jungkook-seonsaengnim. He’s incredible. One day, I hope to have my own business and run it just like him."

You bit the inside of your lip, warmth swelling in your chest at the compliment to your man. "He is," you agreed softly, your smile a little more private this time. "And I’m sure you will."

Sehun’s lip was caught between his teeth as his eyes seemed to linger just below yours, but before you could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room, drawing your attention. You turned toward the entrance.

Jungkook and Namjoon strode into the room, their presence immediately commanding attention. Namjoon greeted the department heads with a dimply smile, but your eyes locked onto Jungkook. His gaze, however, wasn’t on you—it was unwaveringly fixed on Sehun’s reddened face. A flash of something dark crossed his features, and he didn’t spare you or anyone else a glance as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Straightening in your chair, you swallowed the scoff that rose in your throat. He didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention already on the file in front of him as he flipped through it silently. Namjoon’s eyes flickered over Jungkook’s hardened expression before realizing the CEO wouldn’t be opening the meeting. Clearing his throat, Namjoon stood up and took over.

"Good morning, everyone. Glad to see you all here," Namjoon greeted, flashing a bright, toothy smile. The room responded with polite murmurs. "We’ve got a full agenda today, so let’s start with—"

About thirty minutes into the meeting, you were still focused on your notes. Namjoon was wrapping up his discussion on a new marketing campaign strategy that had piqued your interest. You were typing up the last few points when Jungkook’s deep voice suddenly rang out. Your body reacted instantly, muscles relaxing after hearing him finally speak after what felt like hours of his silence.

"Sehun," Jungkook called out, his tone firm and commanding, and your head snapped up instinctively, surprised to find that Sehun had leaned over, perhaps about to whisper something to you while Namjoon was speaking.

"Did you have a question about the campaign strategy?" Jungkook’s voice was measured, but you felt the tension behind it.

Sehun jerked back, startled by the sudden attention. "Oh, I- no, sir, I was just—"

"Conversing with your colleague while your superior was in the middle of speaking," Jungkook finished for him, his dark gaze unwavering, pinning the tech head in place. "I'm sure I’d be more than capable of answering any questions you have regarding the project. Go ahead."

It wasn’t a suggestion—it was an order.

Sehun swallowed nervously, eyes flicking down to his laptop as if it held the answers. Then, foolishly, he glanced at you, probably hoping for some kind of lifeline. You could only offer him an apologetic look, knowing your boyfriend's ways.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched visibly, his irritation evident as he barked out, "Do you need her to speak for you?" His fist tightened on the table beside him, knuckles paling. "Are you that incompetent?"

Your gaze slowly shifted from Sehun, who was visibly shaken, to your boyfriend, who was fucking seething. You sighed softly, dropping your gaze back to your laptop, fingers resuming their typing with a small shake of your head.

And then his voice came again. A little softer, but still pissed. "Did you have something to add, Y/N?"

Your fingers froze mid-typing. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel every pair of eyes turning to you. Everyone knew about your relationship with Jungkook. It wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t exactly something you had announced over the firm intercom, either. Most of the department heads were aware and knew better than to draw attention to it, but there were still some, like poor Sehun, who hadn’t quite pieced it together yet.

When you looked up, Jungkook’s dark eyes were locked on you. From your peripheral, you saw Jimin and Hobi exchanging wide-eyed glances, while Heejin’s gaze flickered nervously between you and the CEO.

Every fiber in your bratty being wanted to fight back, make him repeat himself, ask him what the fuck he was trying to prove by putting you on the spot in front of a room full of department heads. But the professional in you won out, forcing you to bite your tongue.

You shook your head calmly. "No, sir." The silence was deafening. You turned to Namjoon, whose eyes were carefully trained on his papers. "My apologies, Namjoon-seongsaengnim," you said. "We didn’t mean to interrupt you. Please, continue."

Namjoon nodded appreciatively, sending you a brief smile before moving on. “Right, as I was saying…”

The meeting finally wrapped up, and everyone began packing up their things. Some were quicker than others to vacate the room, with Kang Minho leading the pack, cigar already halfway to his lips, lighter flicking in agitation.

You closed your laptop with a little more force than intended, irritation still simmering under your skin. Grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, you stood, feeling Sehun shifting beside you, fumbling to gather his things. You could almost sense the apology hanging on the edge of his lips, and you sighed internally, praying he wouldn’t try and engage in conversation with you again.

Jimin and Hobi walked over, ready to leave, but your attention was drawn to Heejin’s voice as she spoke to Jungkook. Your movements slowed as you listened.

“Thank you for such a great meeting, seonsaengnim,” she said sweetly, her fingers tapping the edge of her laptop.

You clenched your jaw slightly, the inside of your cheek caught between your teeth. Namjoon had handled ninety percent of the presentation—what the fuck was she even thanking him for?

“I actually had a few concerns for the Communications department that I was hoping to run by you—"

"Take them up with your superior," Jungkook replied, not even bothering to glance her way as he slipped his phone into his pocket and made his way toward the door.

Heejin smiled, clearly undeterred as she closed her laptop and followed after him. "But you are my superior," she giggled. Your brows furrowed as you turned to look at her follow after your man like a lost puppy. Your grip on your laptop tightened.

Jungkook sighed, forgetting she had even been promoted recently. Still, he didn’t glance at her. “Make an appointment with one of my assistants, Heejin,” he said, his voice dripping with impatience. “I have somewhere to be. Excuse me, please.”

Excuse me, please? You rolled your eyes. Why doesn't he just tell her to get on her knees and get to work?

Heejin nodded, still all smiles as she left the room, laptop clutched to her chest. You gathered your things and fell into step with Jimin and Hobi. Jungkook paused near the end of the table, his gaze boring into you, but you ignored the stare, slipping between your friends as you headed out.

“Y/N-ssi,” Sehun’s voice cut through the air as he jogged to catch up with the three of you.

You sucked your teeth, glancing down at your watch. Fifteen minutes until your production conference. Enough time to grab something to eat since you’d skipped breakfast—thanks to Jungkook’s insistence on christening yet another room in your new house this morning. The laundry room, this time. And as it turns out, sex on top of a dryer was a lot better and less uncomfortable than you’d expected.

Jimin took your laptop from your hands, giving you a soft smile. "I’ll drop this off at your office. Hobi and I are heading that way."

You nodded in thanks, turning back to Sehun, only to catch Jungkook’s eyes glaring at you from behind the tech leader’s frame. His brows were furrowed, a silent question written all over his face—what the fuck are you doing?

Ignoring your fuming boyfriend, you refocused on Sehun. "You alright?" you asked.

Sehun nodded quickly. "Yeah, I just—" He started to say more but stopped abruptly, his body stiffening as if he could feel Jungkook's glare on the back of his neck. Turning, he blinked, clearly startled to see the CEO still there. "Oh—hi, sir. Once again, I’m so sorry about—"

"It’s okay, Sehun-ssi," you cut him off, drawing his attention back to you. "I need to grab something to eat. Is this important?"

Sehun shifted nervously. "Ah, well... it can wait." His ears were going red again. "How much time do you have? Did you want to stop by the cafe on level 10 before your conference? I was heading there anyway—"

At that, Jungkook’s head snapped up, his gaze zeroing in as he pushed himself off the table. You stepped around Sehun, positioning yourself between him and your clearly furious boyfriend.

"No, thank you, Sehun. I’ll catch you later, okay?" You kept your tone light, ignoring the fact that you had definitely not told him that you were on your way to a conference.

Sehun, still a bit confused, turned slightly to see what had you moving so quickly. And that’s when he saw it—Jungkook’s dark, cold glare burning holes through him. Before Sehun could stutter another word, Jungkook’s eyes flicked down to you, noting the goosebumps on your arms. He grabbed the jacket from your hands and silently made you slip your arms into it.

That’s when the realization hit Sehun like a fucking brick.

His face went ghostly pale, and you could visibly see him swallow nervously. "Oh my god… are you—are you two—"

You nodded simply, sliding your arms into the jacket as Jungkook remained silently brooding behind you.

"I—I am so—sir, I’m so sorry! I would never—"

"Sehun-ssi, it’s fine." You gave him a polite, almost bored smile. "Let's talk later."

Sehun barely managed a shaky nod before he bolted, red-faced and flustered, out of the room.

"You’re such a jealous psycho," you muttered under your breath, turning to face Jungkook, who was still fuming quietly. You puckered your lips for a kiss.

Jungkook just glared, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment before leaning down to give you a quick, soft peck. You frowned, leaning in for another, but he pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Why’d you sit there?" he asked, glancing down at your jacket, noticing you hadn’t done up the top two buttons. When he reached to fasten them, you smacked his hand away, refusing to let him make you look like a nun.

"Because your girlfriend was in my usual seat," you shot back, poking him in the stomach before turning on your heel and heading toward the door.

"And I’m the jealous one?" he muttered, flicking the lights off as he followed behind you.

"Yes," you hummed, walking down the now-empty hall, clear of all the departmental seniors and visitors.

You reached the elevator when Jungkook’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek as you reached out to press the down arrow.

"That poor boy almost pissed himself because of you."

"I felt like I was very soft on him," Jungkook shrugged, taking a deep inhale of your honey scented skin before pressing a kiss to your neck and standing upright. His hands slipped under your jacket to rest on your belly over your blouse, his fingers grazing your skin gently. "Could’ve been a lot worse."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, but couldn’t resist the urge to look up at his adorable pout. You puckered your lips again, and this time, he gave in, leaning down for a proper kiss. Spinning in his arms, his hands fell naturally to rest on your ass as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

A soft moan escaped your lips when his tongue slid between them, licking into your mouth in the way only he could. It felt like only milliseconds before the elevator dinged, snapping you back to reality. You reluctantly pulled away, biting his lip gently before spinning around to face the opening doors.

The elevator revealed Kim Namjoon, standing there with his head tilted, eyebrow raised. "Jungkook-ah, the board is waiting. Answer your fuckin' phone, man," the CCO huffed, gesturing for you both to step inside with a hurried wave of his hand.

You smiled at Namjoon and walked into the elevator, Jungkook right behind you. His hand found its way back to your belly, rubbing absentmindedly as you hit the button for level 12.

Namjoon scrolled through something on his phone, snickering. "What time are you planning on getting there tonight, Kook? The RSVP says 6, but they don’t start serving drinks until 8, so I'll be there around 9," he chuckled.

Your ears perked up at the mention of the event. You fiddled with Jungkook’s tattooed fingers on your stomach, glancing up at him as you waited for him to respond.

"For what?" Jungkook asked, not looking up from his phone.

You almost frowned at his response. He already told you he had a sponsorship function tonight. Jungkook never forgets things like that.

Namjoon barely glanced up. "That promo celebration for the girl taking over for Sana-ssi?" He explained, locking his phone and leaning back. "Shit, I forgot if we need to bring gifts. I'll check with my assistant—"

You didn’t hear anything after that. Everything faded, the muffled sounds of the elevator blending together like white noise. Jungkook’s hand stiffened against your stomach, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

He hadn’t gotten his schedule mixed up. He knew damn well what event Namjoon was referring to. The "sponsorship function" was actually a celebration for that dirty slut from level 7, and that dirty slut from level 7 had gotten a permanent promotion, which would bring her even closer when fucking working with him.

The elevator doors slid open, and without a second thought, you shoved Jungkook’s hand off you and stormed out.

"Baby," Jungkook was immediately on your tail, ignoring Namjoon’s confused calls from behind.

"Wh— Jungkook-ah? What the fuck? Where are you going?"

"Baby, wait." Jungkook's voice was tense as he caught up to you, but when his hand reached out to grab your arm, you shoved it off aggressively.

"I’m so fucking serious right now, don’t touch me, Jungkook." You spat, whipping around to face him. He just shook his head, trying to step closer, but you put your hand up, keeping him at a distance. "I’m not fucking kidding—"

"Baby, listen to me—" he tried, his voice urgent.

"Get the fuck away from me," you snapped, digging into your pocket for your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. "God, you know I fucking hate it when you lie, and you just—" You groaned, your fist tightening around your phone as you shoved his hands off you once again.

"Who are you texting?" Jungkook frowned, trying to get a look at your phone over your shoulder.

"None of your fucking business," you spat, stepping out of his reach.

"Y/N, don't. If you're not going to let me explain—"

"My mom," you snapped sarcastically, your fingers flying across the screen as you started typing. "They finally adapted technology so you can get cell reception six feet underground now. It's great."

Jungkook scoffed, clearly unamused, but he continued following closely behind you as you started walking again. "If you can lie to me, then I can fucking lie to you, right?" you added mockingly.

He tried to grab your phone, but you dodged him, sending the message just in time. His jaw tightened when he saw the screen. "Like hell you’re sleeping at Jimin’s tonight, are you fucking crazy?"

"Well, I’m not staying in a house with a fucking liar, that’s for sure," you shot back, your tone sharp as you moved further away from him.

"You’re not staying at Jimin’s," he repeated firmly, his voice absolute.

His certainty made you laugh bitterly. "I’m staying at Jimin’s or I’m staying at Hyungwon’s. You fucking choose."

Jungkook’s fists clenched at his sides, his face hardening in disbelief. "Why the fuck would you say that, Y/N?"

"I don't have anywhere to go, Jungkook!" Your voice rose, frustration and pain bubbling to the surface. You could feel eyes on you from the staff scattered around the floor, but you didn’t care. "You are my home. I don’t have anywhere else to fucking—"

Jungkook’s expression softened when your voice broke, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He stepped closer, his hands slipping under your jacket, palms smoothing down your hips. "Then don't fucking go, baby. Just don’t go anywhere, please. Don’t go to Jimin’s." He begged.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the warmth of his hands, the familiar comfort of his body close to yours. His face rested in the crook of your neck, and despite your anger, you found yourself leaning into him slightly, knowing full well that getting to your conference on time now was just a lost cause.

"Tell me why you lied then," you mumbled, your voice quieter, your sniffles betraying you.

Jungkook pulled back, his thumbs swiping gently under your eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fully form. His fingers brushed under your nose as he wiped away the dribble there. "Because I knew it would upset you. We’ve been doing so well in our new place, baby—I didn’t want anything to ruin it." His voice was soft, almost pleading. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was only going to make an appearance and come home straight away."

You studied his face, your own expression softening despite the anger still bubbling inside you. You understood him, you really did. But you still hated when he lied. "Then why didn’t you just ask me to go with you?" Your voice wavered, doubt creeping in despite yourself. "Did you... not want to be seen with me?"

You didn’t even know where the self-doubt was coming from. Jungkook loved you. He loved letting people know you were his. He didn’t care who was around when he kissed you or rested a hand on your body, claiming you without shame. But something about Heejin… She got under your skin in a way that you couldn’t describe. Maybe it was because she’d been here longer, known him longer. She was going to be in meetings with him now—department head meetings, one-on-one meetings. The thought alone made you feel sick.

Jungkook sighed, his hands cupping your cheeks, and pressed two quick, soft kisses on your lips. "Don’t say dumb shit like that," he murmured, his voice soft but firm. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. "I wanted to have a joint office, but you said that was unprofessional or whatever." He rolled his eyes, giving you a little smirk.

You blinked, hugging your arms around yourself, stepping back a little. "Then why?" Your voice was quieter now, laced with the confusion and hurt you couldn’t hide. "Why didn’t you want me to go? I’ve gone with you to plenty of functions."

Jungkook hesitated, and you felt the tension settle back into the air between you. His silence weighed heavy, and that familiar twist of anxiety and anger began to gnaw at you again.

"It’s because of Hyungwon, isn’t it?" you asked, even though you already knew the answer. "You didn’t want me to go because people from his firm are going to be there, and he could be too, right?"

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardening slightly as he averted your gaze. He didn’t need to say anything. His silence confirmed everything.

You let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking your head. Not only did he keep you away from a party celebrating the one woman you couldn’t stand the most when it came to him, but he also made sure you didn’t go because of the one man he had a problem with the most when it came to you was attending.

"Fucking hypocrite," you muttered, stepping further back from him, your stomach turning in disgust.

"Baby, it’s not like that—" he started, his tone filled with urgency.

"Then what is it like, Jungkook?" Your voice rose again, frustration spilling out as you threw your hands up. "You didn’t tell me about the party because you knew it would piss me off that it’s for Heejin. But you also didn’t want me to go because there was a chance Hyungwon could be there! So, what? I can’t go because you have a problem, but I’m supposed to sit at home and wait for you like a fucking housewife while you go to a party for a bitch that you know I can’t stand? How the fuck does that make sense?"

Jungkook’s face was a mixture of guilt and frustration. He took a step toward you, but you held up your hand again, stopping him in his tracks.

"God, can you just go away?" you spat, your voice trembling slightly as you felt the tears begin to well up again. Shaking your head, you started to walk away.

"Baby," Jungkook grunted, his frustration growing as he followed you.

"No, Jungkook. I need space. Seriously." You didn’t even turn around, your voice sharp as you neared your office.

"We don’t do space. That’s not how we work," he argued, right behind you.

"Well, maybe we need to start doing space," you snapped, reaching for the door handle.

Before you could pull the door open, Jungkook grabbed your wrist, spinning you around to face him. His eyes were intense, wild, like he was barely keeping himself together. "If you keep walking away from me, I'm going to follow you into that conference room and make you sit in my fucking lap during your entire presentation."

The seriousness in his voice made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept your expression blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched when you didn’t answer, but he didn’t stop. "I can’t have you two in the same room, Y/N." His voice was low, almost dangerous, as if just saying Hyungwon’s name triggered something in him.

You just blinked, still silent.

“If I see him anywhere near you, I’ll kill him.” Jungkook said it simply, like it was just another fact. “I wouldn’t regret it. But they probably won’t let you stay in my cell with me, would they, baby?” His brows furrowed, head tilting as he asked, like he was genuinely curious to know the answer.

a/n i cut it here because the rest is nawttt edited at all and very rough 😬 but any takers on a part 3 ??!!?! just give me 6 months and it's all yours xx

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sirompp · 2 years ago

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you should be able to reblog drafts to make drafted reblog chains. i shoud be able to make my own secret dash filled with my own posts thats just for me and no one else

#writing things in post format helps me process them better #ever since i was like. 13. ive been thinking in the tumblr post format.#and being able to write out my thoughts The Way I Think Them is like. a big help #and then jsut drafting them so i dont have to go through the agony of deleting something which holds an absurd amt of weight to me #and not having to show the Internet my whole soul and private and/or emotionally heavy thoughts #tragically though i cant make drafted reblog chains. which is in fact part of how i think #''this is a very chronically online way to be'' Ive Been Homeschooled Since I Was A Little Baby The Internet Is All I Know #(though TECHNICALLY i did go to school for about 3 years total. they were all separated by 1-2 years time though)#im going to shut the hell up now before i condemn THIS post to the drafts for being Too Personal

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cyberesc · 4 months ago

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BELLYACHE. (PART 1)

pairing: Prohero!kiribaku × Prohero!Reader

synopsis: You were in love with your best friends but were certain they didn't feel the same as they feel for each other, so you did what anyone would do, in an attempt to save yourself from heartbreak, you disappeared from Japan back to your home country after graduation, leaving everyone behind.

+*. • contains angst, slight jealousy (?), reader is a foreign exchange student, krbk and reader are bestfriends, misunderstandings, krbk aren't in an established relationship, required unrequited love, reader runs from their problems, eventual happy ending (poly)

note: this was sitting in my drafts for so long, this series will probably have a max of 3 parts depending on how much angst I wanna cut or include🤭

part 2 | part 3

The halls of U.A. felt more like home than ever, and yet, it was bittersweet. You walked alongside Bakugo and Kirishima, their banter filling the air. Bakugo's gruff voice mixed with Kirishima's hearty laughter—sounds that had become a constant in your life over the past three years. But today, you felt a little distant, not quite part of the trio, more like a shadow trailing behind them.

You glanced at them for a moment, catching the playful glint in Bakugo's eye as he shoved Kirishima's shoulder at a lame joke, and Kirishima's sharp smile that only widened in response. It was a scene you'd grown to love—too much, in fact. A sigh escaped your lips before you could stop it.

I never stood a chance.

That thought had been a whisper in the back of your mind for months, but now, with graduation approaching, it was louder than ever. You saw the way they looked at each other—the subtle glances, the easy smiles, the unspoken understanding that passed between them. It was clear they had something special, a bond that went beyond friendship. And you? You were just a person who couldn't hold a candle to either of them, never quite on the same level.

Bakugo and Kirishima had always had a connection that you could never quite breach, and you've finally accepted that you never would. They understood each other in a way that left you feeling like an outsider, even though you were their bestfriend. But that was all you were, wasn't it?

Bakugo and Kirishima couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in your demeanor. They didn't speak of it, but the thought was there, nagging at the back of their minds like an itch they couldn't scratch. You were a crucial part of their world, a balance to their intense, chaotic energy, and the thought of losing that balance even just a little bothered them more than they'd care to admit. There were feelings that neither of them dared to acknowledge, let alone act on.

Back when you transferred during the first year of U.A, the odds were stacked against you. As a foreign student coming into U.A, you knew you'd have to work harder than anyone else to prove that you belonged there. The language barrier, the cultural differences and the high standards of a prestigious school-all weighed heavily on your shoulders. But you were determined.

From the moment you set foot on the campus, you heard the whispers and curious glances of the other students, but they didn't faze you. Instead, they fueled you. You had to be better, faster, stronger—there was no room for doubt.

Your first encounter with Bakugo happened during combat training as you've been randomly paired up together by Aizawa. You heard what people said about him—about his explosive temper. But you didn't back down, much like you, he fought with the drive to be the best of the best.

The battle was fierce, both of you pushing each other to your limits. Before any of you could push yourselves too far, you were separated with Aizawa's capture scarf. After assessing your fight, it was deemed a stalemate, both of you breathless and covered in sweat. Disappointed with your loss, you felt something shift after your fight. While he didn't want to acknowledge it, Bakugo saw you as someone who could match his fire. From then on, there was a mutual respect between you, even if neither of you said it out loud.

Your encounter with Kirishima went much differently. It was during a late-night study session in the library, weeks after your transfer. You had been struggling with a particularly difficult concept, frustration and anxiety bubbling as time seemed to run closer and closer toward the third exam. Kirishima noticed and without a second thought, pulled up a chair beside you, offering his help with an easy smile. He was to your surprise, pretty patient, explaining things in a way that made everything click. The day after getting back your score on the exam, you gave him snacks from your home country as a thank you gift. That night, not only did you learn about the subject matter—you learned that Kirishima had a heart as solid as the walls he could create with his Quirk. From then on, he made it his mission to include you in everything, making sure you never felt out of place.

From then on, the three of you formed a bond that felt unbreakable.They both came to care for you as one of their best friends, and over time, you started to realize that they were more than just people in your pursuit to prove yourself—they were the people you trusted most.

They understood your struggles and admired the strength it took for you to come this far. Through countless training, late-night study sessions, and quiet moments together, they became more than just classmates-they became your best friends. And you, in turn, became theirs.

Your feelings for Bakugo and Kirishima didn't happen all at once. It was a slow, gradual process. At first, you admired them for their strengths but over time, something shifted. The admiration you felt for them started to evolve into something deeper, something that went beyond friendship.

It was in the small moments that your feelings began to grow. Each moment became more meaningful, and you found yourself looking forward to them, craving their presence in a way that made your heart race.

But it wasn't until an overwhelming sense of doubt started to gnaw at the back of your mind. They were your best friends, you knew how much they value their friendship, not just with you but with each other. The bond you all had was precious and the thought of disrupting your dynamic terrified you. The last thing you wanted was to be the reason for any tension or division.

You had seen firsthand how strong their connection was with each other, how they complement one another in ways that seemed effortless. They had a bond that you feared you could never fully understand or be a part of. So, you buried your feelings, convincing yourself that it was for the best.

It was better to remain their friend than to risk everything for something you knew was impossible.

Graduation day came and went in a blur. While saying your goodbyes to your classmates, you were stopped by Bakugo and Kirishima who had asked you what agency you were joining, both of them waiting for your answer in anticipation, wondering if you'd all fight alongside each other. Your chest tightened painfully as you dodged the question.

You were transferring back to your home country.

The decision was made before your enrollment at U.A. As they looked at you, faces filled with pride after surviving not only high school, but one of the top hero schools in the country (not to mention fighting a literal war before the end of their freshman year). You couldn't bear to tell them the truth-not when they looked at you with warm smiles that made you wish things could be different.

Instead, you left quietly. You'd already packed your things, already arranged your transfer. You didn't even say goodbye in person, just left a message that you were heading back home. It was a wimp's way out, you knew that. You'd always prided yourself on facing challenges head-on, but the thought of telling them you were leaving, telling them you might never see them again—that was a challenge you couldn't handle.

You stared at the message on your phone, fingers trembling as they hovered over the 'send' button. Once you pressed it, that would be it, no turning back.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to be brave and hit 'send': The message was short, deliberately vague, because you couldn't write what you really felt.

I'm heading back home. I'll miss you guys. Thank you for everything. - Y/N

For a moment, you stared at the screen, half-hoping they would reply instantly, asking for more details, demanding an explanation. But the minutes ticked by with no response. Maybe they were busy celebrating, caught up in the excitement of graduation. Or maybe they just didn't care.

You sighed, sliding your phone into your pocket. It was better this way. Easier for them, easier for you.

No messy goodbyes, no tears. Just a clean break.

As you walked away from the school grounds for the last time, from the second place you've called home, you couldn't help but glance back over your shoulder. The massive gates of U.A. loomed behind you, a symbol of everything you were leaving behind.

But you had to keep moving forward. And as painful as it was, you knew you were making the right choice. Still, as the plane took off, lifting you away from the life you'd built, you allowed yourself one final, quiet thought:

I'II always love you both.

Life hit you fast, in the weeks that passed after leaving Japan, you kept busy; getting hired as a rookie at your city's agency, diving into missions, and patrolling the familiar streets from your childhood.

It kept your mind occupied, the stray feelings of homesickness that quietly built up as you left your home to follow your dreams lifted. You were back to the city and its people you grew up with, back to your old roots, to your first home, whom you swore to protect.

But it didn't stop you from missing them. The longing gnawed at you in quiet moments, the ache of being apart from the people who meant the most to you.

Your silence didn't go unnoticed, your old circle of friends, including Kirishima and Bakugo reached out often—texts, calls, voice messages. You knew they were angry that you left, especially without a proper goodbye, but leaving without anyone holding you back was the best choice you could've made.

Ironically the guilt of abandoning your friends slowly pushed you from any sort of contact. You replied at first, brief responses. But slowly, you began to pull back, letting the messages go unread, letting the calls ring out. It hurt too much to hear their voices, to pretend everything was fine when it wasn't.

It wasn't long before you were ghosting them completely, blaming it under the false pretense of a busy work schedule.

Months passed. The guilt of avoiding them weighed heavily on you, but it felt necessary to protect your heart. You threw yourself into your work. You were a rookie after all, and you were determined to make a name for yourself, no matter how slowly you climbed up the ranks, hoping that someday, the ache would lessen.

One day, you received an email for a mission briefing in Tokyo—a high-profile case, something about an undercover mission that required cooperation between multiple agencies. They asked for you and your senior to attend. You weren't expecting anything as you took a plane back to Japan, the city was so large, you didn't think of the possibility of running into your old friends.

Once you arrived, you checked in with your assistant, receiving a tablet with the mission files and your hero badge for easier introduction among the agencies.

As you walked into the conference room, your eyes wandered around the room, taking note of who attended. Your heart stopped the moment your eyes landed on familiar ash-blonde hair.

Bakugo's eyes locked onto you the second you stepped into the room, a mixture of surprise and something unreadable in his gaze. You averted your eyes quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. Of all the people you could have run into, of course it had to be them.

Kirishima arrived a few minutes later, Tamaki and Mirio chatting alongside him. When Kirishima caught your gaze, his face lit up with a grin, waving in your direction. You managed a strained smile, nodding in acknowledgment, but didn't trust yourself to speak.

Bakugo was staring at you intently, his gaze never wavering. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, and it made your skin prickle.

The beeping of a timer indicating the start of the meeting silenced the room. Your hero partner and assistant took the vacant spots on either side of you and you couldn't help but imagine if you didn't leave, maybe you would have been assigned this mission together.

The meeting felt like it dragged on forever. You avoided looking in the direction of either of them, keeping your focus on the mission briefing. When a break was finally called, you stepped out for air, heading for the rooftop to clear your head.

The city stretched out before you as you leaned against the ledge, the familiar sights and sounds of traffic below grounding you. You closed your eyes, breathing in the crisp air, trying to steady your racing heart.

"You've been avoiding us."

Bakugo's voice cut through the quiet, and you stiffened, your eyes snapping open. You hadn't even heard him approach.

"I've been busy." you replied after a moment, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, but didn't turn to face him. *What do you want me to say, Bakugo?"

"The truth would be nice," he said, stepping closer until he was beside you, his eyes locked on your face.

You bit your lip, refusing to meet his gaze. You knew he could see right through you, and you hated it. You hated how vulnerable he made you feel, how just a look from him could unravel all the defenses you'd so carefully built.

"There's nothing to say." you muttered, trying to sidestep the conversation, hoping he would drop it.

"Bullshit." Bakugo repeated, his voice sharp but tinged with worry. He wasn't one to back down easily, and you knew that if you stayed there any longer, he'd pry the truth out of you. "You've been avoiding us for months. You don't just drop out of our lives without a damn good reason."

You could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, but you kept your back to him, staring out at the city below. "I told you. I've been busy. New city, new job—“

"Cut the crap." Bakugo interrupted, his voice low. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming.

"You've never run from anything. So what the hell is really going on?"

The words you'd been holding back for so long clawed at your throat, but you couldn't let them out.

You couldn't face the possibility that admitting your feelings would ruin everything—whatever was left, anyway.

You thought about the consequences of spilling your feelings. If you said what you really felt right now, what's the guarantee that it wouldn't affect the mission? If your feelings aren't reciprocated, and Bakugo tells Kirishima about your conversation, where would that put you? You couldn't afford to put yourself in that position, risking your focus and letting your team down. They had each other, and you had... well, you had yourself.

You shook your head at your thoughts, forcing a neutral tone. "It doesn't matter. Let's just get back to the meeting."

Before Bakugo could protest, you walked away, your hurried steps putting distance between you and the conversation you weren't ready to have. You knew Bakugo wasn't convinced, but you hoped he'd at least drop it for now. If he kept pressing, you didn't know if you'd be able to hold it together.

The meeting wrapped up eventually, and you made sure to slip out before either Bakugo or Kirishima could catch up with you. Knowing Bakugo, he most likely already told Kirishima about your conversation on the rooftop and you couldn't handle another confrontation, not after the last had left you feeling so raw. You needed time to think, time to steel yourself for the upcoming mission.

You stayed at one of your agency's temporary apartments, the busy life of Tokyo echoing in the night. You tried to distract yourself with preparations, going over the mission details again and again. But your thoughts kept drifting back to Bakugo, to the look in his eyes when he'd confronted you, to the way Kirishima had smiled at you in the conference room like nothing had changed.

A few days before the mission, you headed to the support department to pick up your upgraded stealth suit. The techs had been working on integrating some new enhancements to better suit your Quirk, and you were eager to see how it had turned out. You slipped into the fitting room and pulled on the suit, testing the fit and flexibility. It was perfect, as expected, and you felt a small sense of satisfaction at the way it hugged your form.

As you stepped out of the fitting room, you nearly collided with someone standing just outside. You looked up to find Sero grinning down at you, his usual easygoing smile stretching wide across his face.

"Yo, Y/N! Long time no see," he greeted, giving you a playful nudge.

You couldn't help but smile back. "Hey, Hanta. What are you doing here?"

"Just picking up some adjustments on my gear. Looks like you got some upgrades too," he said, eyeing your new suit with approval.

"Yeah, just some minor tweaks." you replied, flexing your hands and feeling the fabric move with you.

Sero tilted his head, studying you for a moment. "You've been pretty quiet lately. Haven't seen you in the group chat for a while."

You tensed, the familiar guilt creeping in. "Uh, just been busy."

"Uh-huh," Sero said, not buying your excuse. He didn't push, though, just smiled and clapped a hand on your shoulder. *How about we catch up over some drinks? It's been ages since we hung out?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I'd like that."

The bar was comfortably noisy, filled with the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses. You and Sero found a booth in the corner, beers in hand, and settled in to catch up. It felt good to relax a bit, to be in the company of someone who wasn't pushing you for answers you didn't want to give.

"So." Sero began after a sip of his beer, "you gonna tell me why you've been MIA? Or do I have to guess?"

You sighed, knowing he wouldn't let it go. "It's complicated, Hanta."

"Complicated how?" he asked, leaning back in his seat. "Does it have anything to do with a certain explosive blonde and a red-haired tank?"

You winced, "What makes you say that?"

"Just a hunch." he replied with a shrug. "Plus, Kirishima's been worried sick about you, and Bakugo's been, well...Bakugo, but more pissed than usual."

You frowned, your gaze dropping to the table. "I didn't mean to worry them. I just...I didn't know how to handle it."

"Handle what?" Sero pressed gently.

You took a deep breath, the words catching in your throat before you finally let them out. "I...I kinda have feelings for both of them. And I thought...I thought it would be easier to just distance myself. To let them be together without me getting in the way." Sero's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't look surprised.

"So, you just decided to ghost them? Leave the country without talking to them first?"

"It was stupid, I know," you admitted, frustration with yourself seeping into your voice. "But I didn't think they'd understand…I just didn't want to mess up our friendship."

Sero was quiet for a moment, then he sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Y/N, you're way too hard on yourself, you know that? They care about you a lot. And I don't think you're giving them enough credit."

You glanced up at him, searching his face for any sign of judgment, but found none. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe you should stop running and start talking to them." Sero said simply. "You never know what might happen if you're honest about how you feel. And sure, Kirishima and Bakugo have been pretty close, but lately, there's been talk... you know, around the agency."

"Talk?" you asked, curiosity piqued.

"Nothing bad, just...people have noticed that those two seem kinda distracted. And it's not just because of each other, if you catch my drift." Sero said with a knowing look.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. Could it be possible that...?

"No fucking way" you muttered, shaking your head. "They look so happy together. They don't need me complicating things."

"Y/N." Sero said, his voice firm, "You don't complicate anything. You're part of their lives—whether you like it or not. And maybe, you're part of something bigger than you realize."

You fell silent, Sero's words echoing in your mind as you silently sipped your beer. Could he be right? Was there more to their relationship than you'd assumed? And if so, where did that leave you?

The conversation drifted after that, Sero taking your mind off things by sharing stories about the others, filling you in on the latest gossip from your old circle of friends. By the time you parted ways, your heart felt a little lighter, the dread that had been hanging over you for weeks starting to lift.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugo x reader #kiribaku x reader #krbk x reader #bakugo x reader x kirishima #kiribaku x reader angst #krbk x reader angst #cyber.writes

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hottiesforhockey · 2 months ago

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may the best brother win pt. 1 ⎜hughes brothers

pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader ⎜luke hughes x afab!reader ⎜ jack hughes x afab!reader ⎜ genre: romance ⎜bachelorette-esque situations ⎜angst? ⎜friends - to - lovers warnings: mentions of lack of experience with dating ⎜mentions of a bet / competition⎜friendly love-hate relationship ⎜ synopsis: you have been friends with the hughes brothers for years - but why does this summer feel so different? word count: 4.2k authors note: this is the first part in my new series on my new blog!! 🎉 I hope you all enjoy. this will be coming out in 3-4 parts so each brother will have his own chapter let me know what you think the other brother would do for their date. (p.s. i will be posting chapter aesthetic pics at the bottom so you can get an idea of what I was picturing :) ) pt 1 ⎜pt 2 ⎜ pt 3 ⎜

(unedited)

The Hughes brothers had made a name for themselves over the past few years.

Professional athletes.

All top ten overall draft picks.

Captain of the Vancouver Canucks.

Hotshot forward for the New Jersey Devils.

And the rising star defensemen in the league.

They had certainly found a way to make every parent look at their own kid and wonder where they went wrong.

But no one really knew what absolute imbeciles the Hughes brothers truly were.

“If you put down the pan, I’ll drop your phone.” Jack negotiates, his hands in the air, your phone swinging from the tips of his fingers. You glance down at your right hand, the cast iron pan gripped tightly before shooting your gaze back to Jack, whose face scrunches when he realises you’re not going to concede that easily.

“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal. You got secrets to hide or something?” Jack continues flipping the phone into his hand as he tries another passcode for the fifteenth time.

“None of your business, Jack.” You sneer, lunging for the phone again, only for the hockey player to slip just slightly out of reach, his steps backing him towards the staircase.

Fuck, he’s gonna make a run for it.

“Just tell me what you’re hiding from me, and I’ll give you the phone back.” He quips

“Or I could knock you on your ass with a metal pan.” You respond, your gaze shooting up as you look at the man approaching from behind him. The phone is expertly snatched from Jack’s hands as he lets out a long whine in protest, his lips dropping into a pout as he watches his younger brother gently hand you back your phone.

“Maybe she’s got a boyfriend and doesn’t want you to ruin it for her.” Luke teases, giving you a smile as you mouth ‘thank you’ at him, holding your phone close to your chest.

“If we weren’t forced to be friends, I wouldn’t think twice about dropping you.” You hiss, pointing an accusatory finger in the thief’s direction before following his younger brother into the kitchen.

“You would tell me though, right?” Jack’s voice carries as he follows you and Luke into the room “like if you were seeing someone, you’d tell us?” He continues - sliding into one of the bar stools at the counter, dropping his chin into his hands. “You wouldn’t hide something like that?” You frown at Jack, tilting your head in confusion as Luke bustles about the kitchen pulling out the extra large party pack of chips and a freshly made container of salsa.

“Why would I not hide something like that?” You question back, your words making Luke’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he shoves a chip in his mouth, “I mean you guys hide your relationships all the time - isn’t it normal at this age?” You add quickly noticing the way Jack’s face drops a little.

“From the public.” Luke notes quickly, before dipping another chip into the salsa.

“We don’t hide things from you.” Jack says softly, sliding off his seat and making his way out of the kitchen leaving your standing there in confusion.

“Don’t look at me, I just want to eat my chips.” Luke huffs when you turn to glance up at him, his shoulders shrugging as the eldest of you walking in from the backyard, a towel wrapped around his waist, water already soaking through his t-shirt.

“What did I miss?” Quinn questions, as you groan and reach over stealing a handful of chips from the bag.

“Nothing.” You huff, drawing yourself in salty goodness.

“She has a boyfriend.” Luke says, letting out a groan as you shove your elbow into his side.

“And you didn’t tell us?” Quinn asks, his head tilted as your frown deepens.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, it was a hypothetical.” You shoot a glare at Luke, pointing your finger up at him, “consider us enemies now, Warren.”

“Anyway, she thinks it would be normal for her to hide a relationship from us if she was in one, and Jack got all pissy because we don’t keep secrets from each other.” Luke shakes his head at your warning, handing you the bag as you go to reach for more chips.

“Well the point is moot, because I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah but how can we trust you now, you’ve been suspected as a liar and essentially confirmed you would if you could.” Quinn argues, leaning forwards on the kitchen counter with a teasing grin.

“I can one hundred percent confirm that I do not in any way shape or form have a boyfriend.” You swear, holding one hand against your chest and the other in the air, the two boys smiling as they watch your oath, “Besides I’ve never even been on a real date let alone had a relationship.” You sneer, shoving another chip in your mouth as the room falls silent.

“What?’ Quinn is the one who breaks the silence, standing up straight as his brows furrow.

“Huh?” You pause your motions.

“You’ve never been on a date?”

“You’ve never had a boyfriend?” The two brothers ask at the same time, both glancing at each other before looking back at you. “But you’ve brought people home, I’ve seen you.” Quinn continues, the bag of chips forgotten on the counter as you look around for an escape route.

“Firstly, don’t be a creeper and secondly I said I’m a dating virgin, Quinn, not a virgin virgin.” You snort, slowly side stepping the tallest brother as you beeline for the backdoor, hearing Quinn call out after you.

“Luke go get Jack, it seems the four of us have some talking to do.”

“So it’s in agreement.” Jack says as you all sit around the pool, your legs swishing the water as you grumble under your breath. “We are going to woo you, give you the real dating experience.”

“I don’t understand why this has to happen at all.”

“Because we will show you how you should be treated on date, and in turn you can tell us who is the best dater” Jack explains, his brothers nodding in agreement as you let out another long groan.

“So you’re the ones actually using me, don’t think I can’t read between the lines, Rowden.” You huff, slipping your legs out of the pool and standing in your spot. “You are using me to settle a bet aren’t you?”

“There may be something like that.” Luke admits softly, his own legs dipped into the water as he ignores the dirty glare Jack sends him.

“Well now the cats out of the bag, may the best brother win.” The four of you are silent for a moment, each seeming to be deep in thought before Luke cuts in.

“How do we decide who goes first?”

“I suppose I should go first, considering it was my idea.” Jack responds, nodding his head in determination as he glances down at his watch before looking back towards you.

“I’ll pick you up at six.” He says quickly ripping his phone out of his pocket and typing away quickly.

“We live in the same house.”

“Just be ready.” He yells as he presses his phone to his ear, talking softly into the device as he leaves the house, his keys pressed tightly in his hand.

“I’m going to regret agreeing to this aren’t I?” You ask the other two, both of them just giving soft shrugs.

“It might end up being fun.” Luke says, pulling his own phone out of his pocket pulling up google as he scrolls through his search results. You watch as Quinn stands from the deck chair rounding the pool behind you, his hands placed gently on your waist as he squeezes past, his lips pressed to your ear as he whispers, “we’re definitely going to have fun.”

You shiver slightly as Quinn lets your waist go, the sudden rush of warm air behind you making goosebumps rise on your arms.

“So, do you have anything you’re hoping for in particular?” Luke asks slowly, a sly smile on his face, as he waits expectedly for your answer. You let out a soft sigh, pushing some loose hair away from your face, “Honestly, I don’t really know, I just wanted a quiet summer, I wasn’t really expecting to be apart of a hometown bachelorette.”

“Think of it more as a chance to see what you want from a date, besides competition can be fun sometimes.” Luke responds, quickly adding, “And you can’t complain you love the bachelor.” You roll your eyes at his words but can’t help to small smile tugging at your lips.

“God I hate when you’re right.”

You flatten out your light green summer dress against your thighs as you look at the reflection in the mirror, jumping a little at a heavy knock on your bedroom door. “There’s someone here for you.” Luke says as he pops his head through the slightly opened door, his mouth dropping open a little as he looks at your reflection.

“Do you think this is okay?” You start turning to face him, tucking your hair behind your ears as you chew on your bottom lip. “I don’t know where he’s taking me, and I thought something cute but function—”

“It’s perfect.” Luke cuts you off straightening his posture before clearing his throat and adding, “You look perfect.” Luke looks away from you his neck burning a bright red as he clears his throat again.

“Thanks, Lukey.” You coo as you pull your handbag off the bed patting his shoulder as you squeeze past him to leave your bedroom, quickly making your way downstairs skidding to a halt in front of the shoe bench by the front door - pulling on your black and white converse before making your way towards the voices in the kitchen.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or not?” You mumble as you stop by the counter double checking that you had everything you might need in your purse.

“No that would ruin the surprise and if I tell you then it’ll take away half the fu— holy shit.” Your head shoots up at Jack’s interruption of himself, his mouth open in surprise his brother watching amused as he sputters.

“Yes?” You question, glancing over at Quinn who glances between you and his bewildered younger brother before sending you an entertained grin.

“You’re wearing that?” Jack stumbles.

“What, you don’t like it?” You tease.

“No, I do.” Jack rubs a hand down his face, his younger brother giving him a knowing pat on the back as he walks past him to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Should I change? I don’t want you to be distracted on our date.” You coo, slipping your purse higher on your shoulder as you glance down at your outfit again.

Maybe it is a little too much.

I mean it’s not like it’s a real date, and the low cut of the dress is going to make things difficult if he’s taking you to do an activity.

Jack can see your mind start to spin, your teeth digging into your low lip as you adjust the dress a few times, your shoulder sinking as you suddenly become too aware of yourself.

“Nope, nope. We don’t have time for you to change.” Jack interrupts your thought spiral, reaching forwards to clasp your hand in his, “I think I can make this work.” He says, taking one more long look down your body, working his hardest to hold in a grown before shooting a look at his older brother.

“We will be home late. Don’t wait up.” He yells as he drags you toward the front door, not giving either of his brothers time to respond as he slams it shut behind the two of you, ushering you to his car, opening the door for you as you slip inside.

“Jack maybe I should change.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as he slips into the drivers seat, his gaze flicking down to your bare legs, before focusing out the windscreen.

“No.” He says quickly, moving to pull on his own seatbelt before glancing over at you, noticing your belt not pulled over your chest. “We have places to be, my dear.” He adds, reaching over the centre console to grab hold of your seat belt, his hair tickling the side of your face as he pulls it over your chest, clicking the buckle into the slot, before dropping back into his own seat.

“We’re on a slight time crunch.” He admits, glancing down at his watch before putting the car in reverse and backing out of the driveway.

You can’t help but laugh at his urgency. “You sound like you’re leaving the scene of a crime or something.”

Jack chuckles, his eyes lighting up as he navigates the streets, “Well you never know when the cops are going to show up. I’m just trying to keep the night alive.”

“Oh, is that what’s happening?” You respond, glancing out the window at the familiar neighbourhood passing by - Jack’s quick, snarky responses helping ease a little bit of tension.

“Oh yeah, this whole thing is going to be the best date you’ve ever had.”

“It’s the only date I’ve ever had.” You correct quickly, noticing the quick and very dramatic eye roll from Jack as he takes a familiar turn. “Is this leading to the lake?” Your question is ignored another turn onto a quieter street making you shoot a quick glance over to the man besides you, a knowing brow raised.

“Stop trying to ruin the surprise.” He groans.

“What if I don’t like surprises?” You huff, Jack letting out another groan, the smile on his face growing as he slows the car to a stop.

“Trust me, you’ll like this one.” He says as he turns off the ignition, sliding out of the car as he races around to your side, quickly yanking the door open before you get a chance to open it yourself. “My lady.” He says as he offers you a hand to help you out of the car.

You can see the sun descending in the sky as you adjust your dress, watching as Jack shoves the car door closed before holding out his hand for you to take. “Have you brought me here to murder me?” You joke, looking out to the lake, the sun setting a golden glow to the water, Jack’s squeezing yours as he swings them between the two of you.

“Hmmmm, undecided.” He hums - his steps slowing as you take in the set up before you.

The plaid picnic blanket laid on the soft grass, a large assortment of snack laid across the mat as well as two canvases and some paints in the middle. “These are for you.” Jack says as he lets go of your hand to reach down to the picnic blanket picking up the bouquet of daisies sitting on top of the picnic basket, holding them out to you with a wide grin.

“Oh my god, Jack.” You gasp taking in the set up basked in the warm glow of the sunset with a look of awe, quickly taking the flowers from his hands to lift to your nose. “I didn’t know your brain could even imagine something this romantic.” You tease as he ushers you forwards onto the picnic mat, taking the spot opposite you as he lets out a soft chuckle at your words.

“Well I’m glad I can still surprise you after so long.” He says pulling two champagne glasses from the basket, reaching in to pull out a bottle of freshly squeezed lemonade.

“No, seriously Jack this is amazing.” You continue, gratefully accepting a glass of lemonade from him, taking a long sip as you stretch out your legs.

“Just wait until you see desert.” He says with a mischievous grin, clinking his non-alcoholic beverage against yours, “to spontaneous adventures.” He says.

“To spontaneous adventures.” You echo, feeling the warmth of the setting sun wash over you as you settle more onto the blanket, taking in the scene again in amazement. “So are we just gonna sit here or are we going to do some painting?” You ask.

“Let’s eat some snacks first.” Jack says, picking some cheese and crackers off the charcuterie board before popping them into his mouth and motioning for you to do the same. The tension you felt earlier melts away with each shared smile and joke.

“So tell me honestly,” you start, swallowing what’s left of the food in your mouth before continuing. “What inspired this whole set up? I mean a picnic and painting, seems a little out of the ordinary.”

Jack leans forwards, a mock-serious look on his face as he speaks, “Well I realised we’ve spent so much time together as friends, I want to see if I could pull of something a little more… special?” He pauses for a moment sensing the shift as he adds, “Besides, I’ve always wanted to paint a sunset.”

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto your lips. “You wanted to impress me with your artistic side? Are you sure you’re not just trying to cover up your terrible drawing skills?”

He throws his head back and laughs, the sound rich and contagious. “Fair point! But I’m confident in my abilities. Just wait until you see my masterpiece!”

With a sense of excitement bubbling in your chest, you reach for one of the canvases and set it on the blanket. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, Picasso.”

“Watch and learn,” he says dramatically, picking up a brush and swirling it through the paint. You can’t help but giggle at his theatrics as he begins to paint, his tongue poking out in concentration.

As you start to create your own piece, you steal glances at him, noticing the way the setting sun casts a golden light on his face, highlighting his features in a way that makes your heart flutter. You can’t help but feel that this moment is something special—something more than just a casual outing.

“Okay, time’s up!” Jack declares after a few minutes, throwing down his brush. “Let’s see what we’ve created.”

You both hold up your canvases, and the sight makes you burst into laughter. His painting is a chaotic blend of colors that vaguely resembles the sunset, while yours is a collection of abstract shapes and splashes that, while lacking realism, feels vibrant and alive.

“It’s… unique,” you say, struggling to contain your giggles.

“Just like us,” he replies, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

As you both continue to joke and critique each other’s work, the last rays of sunlight disappear, leaving a deepening twilight around you.

“Hey,” Jack says, his voice softer now. “I’m really glad you’re here. This was my favorite idea yet.”

“Mine too,” you admit, your heart swelling at his sincerity. “Thank you for putting all this together. It’s perfect.”

He leans a little closer, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. “Just wait until the stars come out. I think I have one more surprise.”

“Another surprise?” you ask, intrigued. “You’re going to give me a heart attack at this rate.”

He chuckles, then reaches into the basket, pulling out a small, twinkling string of lights. “I thought we could add some ambiance.”

Your eyes widen in delight as he begins to drape the lights around the picnic setup, the soft glow illuminating your surroundings. It transforms the scene, creating an intimate atmosphere that feels like it’s straight out of a movie. As the stars begin to twinkle above, you lean back on your hands, stealing glances at Jack, who’s focused intently on arranging the lights. There’s a warmth in your chest, a budding hope that maybe this night could lead to something more.

“Alright, now for the grand finale,” he says, turning to you with a playful grin. “Dessert time!”

You sit up, your curiosity piqued. “What did you bring?”He rummages through the basket, finally producing a small cake adorned with whipped cream and strawberries. “Tada! Strawberry shortcake. Thought it would be fitting.”

Your eyes light up. “You really went all out, huh?”

“Only the best for you,” he repeats, handing you a slice before cutting himself a piece. The two of you dig into the soft cake, watching as the sun disappears behind the houses, the start shining a bright white as you finish off the dessert, the side of your face burning.

Turning your head slowly, to glance towards Jack you’re surprised when you eyes meet his, his gaze travelling over your face before he tilts his head, putting his empty plate down besides him and shuffling forwards on the picnic mat, his hand reaching out towards your face.

“Here, you have a little bit of cream on your chin.” He whispers, his body radiating warmth as his finger gently swipe just below your lip, your body shivering slightly as he pulls his thumb away dipping it his mouth quickly to get rid of any evidence of the food he just removed from your face. “Are you cold? Maybe we should start heading back?” He says quickly, his eyes locked with yours as your shake your head quickly.

“I don’t think the cold is the problem.” You try to joke, your hesitant chuckle getting caught in your throat as Jack’s eye light in knowing.

“Oh.” He says softly, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid air as he contemplates the choices he has - your body frozen as you wait for him to decide. “Is it weird to kiss on the first date?” He asks nervously, your shoulders shrugging as you respond.

“You tell me, Jack.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He whispers, his body shifting closer ever so slightly as he hand reaches up to cup the side of your neck, your eyes searching his.

“You’re not.” You say softer then you thought was possible, the anticipation building in the bit of your stomach, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the burning skin on your neck. Jack pauses for just a moment before leaning forwards to close this distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss so soft you barely even register that they’re touching.

You sigh into his mouth as your hand reaches up to cup the side of his jaw, your movements all the permission he needs to press his lips firmer against yours as his other hand reaches up to cup the other side of your neck, his thumbs gliding along the underside of your jaw, his hands pulling you closer towards him as your lips move in sync.

“Wait.” He says softly as he pulls away, his hands moving up to cup your cheeks, as he smiles, leaning forwards to press one more chaste kiss against your mouth before releasing you, and letting out a shuddered breath. “The mosquitos are gonna come out soon, we should head home.” He says, and you nod, your lips still tingling from where his lips were pressed against them, your head nodding as Jack makes quick work of packing up the date.

His hands held out to help you up off the ground as he folds the blanket up quickly, rushing to bring everything to his car and shove it into his trunk. You meet him at his car, pressing your lips together to try and ease the swelling you know will be starting to show.

“Well, if I don’t win this competition, I’m gonna say it’s rigged.” Jack jokes as he closes the trunk of his car running a hand through his hair as his words give your pause.

The bet.

You forgot about the stupid fucking bet with his brothers.

“Oh.” You laugh, tucking your hair behind your ears in embarrassment.

How could you forget about the whole reason he was doing this?

The only reason he was doing this.

“Yeah, I don’t know how they’re going to top that performance.” You let out another tense laugh as you open your own passenger door and slide into the car - trying to ignore the way Jack tilts his head in confusion at your sudden shift.

“You feeling okay?” He asks as he follows you into the car.

“Yeah, just really tired all of a sudden.”

“We better get you home then.” Jack’s smile is gentle, as he places his hand on the head rest of your seat before reversing back onto the main road - your body folding in on itself as he makes quick work of the drive home - his hand resting awkwardly between the two of you, as if he was waiting for something.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jack asks as he pulls into the driveway, killing the ignition of the car before turning to face you, “That kiss didn’t make things weird did it?”

“No, Jack.” You say quickly, adding “It’s just part of the competition, right?” You don’t glance at him as you let yourself out of the car, hurrying back inside to escape to your room.

Stupid fucking competition.

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes smut #luke hughes smut #quinn hughes smut #series #may the best brother win

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burntoutdaydreamer · 1 year ago

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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

#writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writers block #novel writing #fiction writing #writer #writers of tumblr

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sheep-from-rad · 2 months ago

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Idea! Neglected bar singer darling.

The joint they sing in is on the very outskirts of Gotham. The bars in the basement of a restaurant.

Its pretty clear darling is saving up money to slowly inch away from Gotham and from there neglectful and sometimes (often) cold family.

So they dress as a Him/femme/them fatale and saunter up to the stage and sing there lil heart out and get both the thrill of all the attention in a room being on them and the money in there tip jar to boot.

Imagine what happens when a clip of darling singing goes fucking viral. (I'd like to think it's would be "be your baby tonight" give it a listen if you want. I like norah jones' cover)

What I'm saying is there is no way any of the batfam would approve of darlings career choice.

I love this kind of asks!~ Requests are now open again but we warned, I'm a snail paced writer T__T This took a while because I have this habit where I write it down first on paper before typing it. Like I make a draft first and reread before typing it to see if I should add more or remove some. First fic about singer reader: here and part 2 here. 😅

**DC characters belong to DC and I don't give permission to feed my writings to AI. Thank you**

Masterlist(Batfam)

Masterlist (All of my other fics)

divider by: @k1ssyoursister

Okay okay, here me out. I know you said secret bar under a restaurant but my brain read the word ‘bar’ and ran away with it 😭.

You know what this smells like? Scandal and maybe even a disaster waiting to happen too. You know what's a famous bar in Gotham? The Iceberg lounge that is run by Mr. Cobblepot (Penguin) and is frequented by rogues such as Riddler.

Life in the Iceberg Lounge isn't that bad, maybe intimidating at first but it became a small comfort. Mr. Cobblepot lets you keep the tips, the lounge beauties (Raven, Lark, and Jay) are great companies, and workplace harassment? You don't really have to worry about that. If you ever get flirted on or harassed by small fries and drunkards and then rest assured a bigger, scarier person at the back of the crowd will beat the harasser and throw them out. They might be villains but they have standards and harassing the lounge’s songbird is a big no no!

The clip of the singer reader went viral for a ton of different reasons: (1) The singing and the amount of simps you raked 24 hours after the clip has been posted. I have a headcanon that Mr. Cobblepot will nickname you as either Nightingale or Songbird to fit the crew because the lounge beauties are nicknamed after birds.(2) People can see villains just chilling at the background of the video. Riddler's nursing a whiskey at the counter, Two face is playing chess with Penguin who is multitasking in helping mix some drinks. Hell, even Harley and Ivy are in the background having a moment with the strippers.

(3) Why is Bruce Wayne’s kid at the Iceberg lounge? I have a teeny tiny headcanon that even though the reader was neglected they are still forced to attend galas once or twice because Bruce won't and then it will be like a big media scandal. Also reader's public appearances with Bruce or with the other Wayne children might be low but they still have hundreds of followers. The Wayne name alone is basically a celebrity name because of Bruce being heavily revered by the public. Think of it like nepobaby shit. (4) That stage presence and sheer seductiveness. Being a Wayne, I'm sure the reader was taught etiquette by Alfred and was taught how to dress properly. They are also taught how to behave. However on that vid, you look like you were dressed by the Gotham sirens (Ivy, Harley, and Selena) themselves. All those good boy, good girl, good child stuff are out of the window. If the reader was just blending in the background before and the video is the opposite. It's almost commanding every viewer to look at them, pay attention to them, worship the very ground they walk on, and love them! At this point just expect simps.

The family loves the video but at the same time they also hate it. They had their copies downloaded and saved and then they'll immediately task Barbara into scrubbing the video off of the internet but it's too late. The video has been re-uploaded to hundreds of different accounts and some news outlets had already published articles about it. The articles ranged from sweet ones like praising the reader for their awesome stage performance and singing to downright insane clickbaits like ‘Bruce Wayne secretly allied with Gotham rogues?’

The whole thing is very stressful and I pray to the DC gods that Bruce Wayne is very healthy because this guy's blood pressure might as well go high up. Imagine trying so hard to keep up with the ditzy playboy public persona to hide your vigilante secret identity only for your kid to be filmed singing and being cozy at the Iceberg lounge. Not only that! You also placed yourself in danger too! It's not a secret that a lot of rouges knew Batman's real identity (Joker knows it, he just doesn't care. He's so cool for that). Sure they don't attack Batman when he's Bruce and sure they are a sweet pseudo-family to you right now but who's to say that they won't use you when push comes to shove?

While Bruce deals with the media, Barbara and Tim work on the damage control and tracking every video, expect heavy guilt tripping and interference from Damian, Dick, and even Alfred (in his defense, he wants you safe and will only ask for you to get a better job or at least work in a place not frequented by villains). Dick will be actively poisoning the well. He'll make you sit down and read the crime archives with him (starting from the heaviest crime down to the pettiest crime) and will tell you stories about their encounters with each of them. Damian will try to keep you from getting to work and will try to keep you in your room if you haven't moved out of the estate. He'll ask you to go around with him, feed his pets with him and even asked you to watch him train (he doesn't know how bonding works, please be understanding). If you had left the estate and then expect him to show up and walk in your place like he owns it. He's one of those cats that you feed once and then suddenly shows up and won't leave you alone anymore.

Oh, you still won't come home? You still wanna continue that dangerous job of yours? Pick your poison then. Do you want them to call Jason to get to the bar and take you home, knowing him some heads will sure go flying. Or do you want the family to stage a stakeout, infiltrate the bar, and capture and lock up all the villains forever. Go on, go choose.

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maybefae · 2 months ago

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If you were written into a book, what would be the story? (Fictional tropes?)

Pile 1 - Pile 2- Pile 3

Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.

Tips!

Pile 1

Tarot: King of Wands, The Tower, Three of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, Two of Swords, Five of Cups, Page of Swords, Three of Cups, Temperance, The Empress, Ten of Cups, Ace of Cups, Two of Wands, Judgement, The Sun

Oracle: The Cartographer, The Founder, The Scholar, The Captain

I am getting two versions but with the same “ending.” And I originally was gonna use the deck I picked for your pile a couple days ago but I kept shuffling and nothing was coming through so I had to use a different deck. But some of the previous cards did come through! I believe that the deck situation does actually play into the story I am getting too.

The situation has to do with a switch in power. This story starts with a king and this king could either be your husband in this book or your father. (I’ll let you guys decide what version you like best.)

If it was your husband, this was an arranged marriage and one you really didn’t get much of a say in. Your family could’ve needed financial help and you being married off to royalty probably helped them. You probably went through with it just so your family would be happy. But the king was selfish, wouldn’t see any other way but his. He didn’t care much about you, liked the look of you on his arm, but would bed any other woman or person he’d like because he’s king. You didn’t have room to grow during this part of the story.

However, there is a turning point where you had enough or your kingdom was in trouble with his ruling and you end up killing him. And you probably made this murder look like an accident. I do have the idea that you probably had a servant or night that helped. This knight could be a love interest that you end up with in the future. But this is your big tower moment where you then are put into power without much knowledge on how to rule.

But the people of the kingdom as well as the workers that were for you and the King actually adored you. They knew how disgusting, selfish, and greedy the King was; they saw how the King treated you. That’s how he treated them as well! And so the workers helped you, taught you how to rule. And you did a lot of studying, independently but also getting word from around town. I’m not gonna say that it was easy being put in a position of power, but you did it as gracefully as you could. It has a lot of found family vibes. The other kingdoms may have had an issue that you actually helped your people and weren’t greedy and self-centered but there are also hints that you actually end up uniting a bunch of lands. But you did grow into a well-loved ruler.

It’s like the quote, “Is it better to be feared or to be loved?” And in your case, it’s better to be loved because the people would go to lengths to defend you and the land. They have something to be proud of.

If you wanted a love interest, I believe you get one and I have a feeling it is the knight I picked up on earlier. Or there could be a character added later on for book two of your story.

Pile 2

Tarot: Knight of Pentacles (The Entertainer), Wheel of Fortune (Life Map), Eight of Cups, Three of Pentacles, Page of Wands (The Wanderer), Nine of Pentacles, The Tower (The Shore), King of Wands (The Protector), Five of Cups, Seven of Cups, The Hierophant (The Phoenix)

Oracle: The Pathless, The Fate, The Alchemist, The Walker, The Sentinel

So I wanna start with the fact that there are two cards about “fate” here. And there is a blatant story that is shown here. This story has to do with time travel and you, as a character, having a hard time accepting fate.

In this story, you have a partner that you were madly in love with, as were they with you. But this could be a historical fiction where they are drafted or they sign up to go to war. And while they were deployed, they would send letters promising a future. However, you end up getting news that they died in war. And you are hysterical. You don’t want to believe it’s real and will go to whatever lengths to get them back.

Thus, this is where the time travel part comes in. I don’t necessarily know how time travel would happen in this book but I keep getting the vision of you going through time line after time line trying to find the one where they survive and make it back from war. A time line where you both can live out the future you planned. But each one, they end up dying. And your character is supposed to accept this moment as a thing that was supposed to happen. No matter if you went back and changed something in the past, it was bound to happen anyway. It’s like you can’t change someone else’s life. Your love wasn’t wasted. And I see a being, personified death, try to tell you this and you’re just sobbing and begging death for help. But it’s like you just ask, “What am I supposed to do?” And you don’t ask how you can bring your lover back. You want to know how to live. And Death ends up telling you something, but in my vision it’s like it zoomed out and I can see the both of you. His mouth is moving while you look at him, listening to his advice. But I can’t hear it.

It reminds me of the letter a soldier wrote to his lover.

Pile 3

Tarot: Nine of Cups, Seven of Cups, Page of Wands, Nine of Pentacles, Nine of Swords, Two of Swords, The Star, Ace of Pentacles, King of Swords, The Hierophant. Page of Swords, Eight of Pentacles

Oracle: The Waker, The Sentinel, The Chiromancer, The Miser, The Guide

I’m getting a few books or pieces of media that can correlate: Pride and Prejudice, Little Women (Jo and Laurie in particular), and Anthony and Kate (Bridgerton).

I believe that your story revolves around the complexities of the “older sister” role. You are the character that needs to control and look after everything or else you think the world will fall apart. But there is also an energy here of high standards and “why do I need a lover if I already have everything I need?” or the anger of someone wanting to come in, love and take care of you but you get angry because you have had to do it all by yourself. The anger of wanting this person when you needed them but now you don’t anymore, so fuck off.

This pile is definitely for the enemies-to-lovers fanatics. There is an energy here of one-sided feelings but it’s more that your character does like this person but the unchecked/unhealed anger overrides all good feelings. This story is a journey of letting go and letting yourself be loved despite how uncomfortable and scary it is. The female rage, the anger of the older sibling…figuring out how to deal with the anger, letting go of control now that you don’t need to live in survival mode anymore. It’s the older version of you protecting a younger version of you, protecting your heart…

The love interest is charming. They can come off cocky and a flirt but may say things the wrong way which makes you “hate” this person. You think they’re a town bicycle, everyone gets a ride with them. But they truly do have feelings for you. They like the chase and fall deeper in love with you the more they have to work to break down your walls so you can see how serious they are. There could be events in the book where they come around to help and they could be the only ones that do come around to help you when everyone else is blind to your struggles and pain. And over the course of the book, you see that and finally take down your wall, slowly, brick-by-brick. And even if they like the chase, they don’t lose feelings when they finally get to hold you in their arms. They are completely serious, completely in love with you. And you get to have the safe home you’ve always dreamt of in the end. They are your defenders, even though they know you can handle yourself. The slow burn was worth it, I promise.

Decks Used: Ophida Rosa Tarot by Leila and Olive, The Rider-Waite Tarot Deck, The Citadel: A Fantasy Oracle by Fez Inkwright, Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck by Matt Hughes Dividers: @inklore

#pick a card #pac #tarot #tarot reading #maybefae tarot #pick a pile

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motherlvr · 2 years ago

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3+1 times Prowler! Miles Morales x Spider-woman! reader

SPOILERS FOR ATSV

read part 2 here!

3 times Miles tried to confess, + 1 time he did.

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: Instead of the radioactive spider biting Miles, it bit you. You turned into Brooklyn's one and only Spider-woman, while Miles turned into the prowler. Miles also helps you with Spanish.

Warnings: friends to lovers, lots of cursing, most definitely not canon, kind of slow-burn?, jealousy, morally gray reader, he's lowkey toxic, no smut, heated make-out session, im feasting on crumbs (his 2 minutes of screen time), this is not ATSV plot heavy, the whole prowler x spidey thing isn't really until the end (enemies to lovers)

A/N: for the sake of the plot, the reader doesn't fluently speak spanish, but can speak some. this has been rotting in my drafts ever since ATSV came out

Miles glares at you two from across the room, predominantly at the guy you're laughing with. Surely he's not that fucking funny. Miles thinks as jealousy spreads within the pit of his stomach like a forest fire. However, you don't seem to notice his stare burning holes through the guy you're speaking to. The same cannot be said for him, however. Miles makes eye contact with him and sends him one glare that immediately makes the poor guy cower with fear away from you.

"I uh...gotta go." The guy squeaks out to you, his voice cracking with terror as he runs away. You raise an eyebrow as you watch him run away. What the hell was that? You think.

Miles appears next to you within the next moment and says, "Hey, ma." he gives you a slight smirk and wraps his arm around your shoulders. That smirk made you weak in your knees, you almost kissed him right then and there. You should be given an award for your amount of self-restraint.

"Hey Miles, qué pasa?" You greet him with a smile that reaches your eyes. Miles' smirk drops and he furrows his eyebrows at you as he inquires. "Who was that guy?" "He's just a friend, why?" You raise an eyebrow and question back. "Don't worry about it, you like him?" His words catch you off guard. You pause for a moment and turn your head to him with a judgmental stare as you shake his arm off you and say, "Miles. What is this? 20 questions?" You deadpan and continue, "He's not important, alright?" Seemingly satisfied with your response, he drops the subject.

After school, Miles and you head to his house. You've been struggling in Spanish class. Spanish grammar might actually be the death of me, you think. Since Miles excels in Spanish due to primarily being raised by his mother, you asked him to tutor you, which he surprisingly agreed to.

It doesn't hurt that you get to spend more time with Miles, either. Something about him never fails to send butterflies straight to your stomach, maybe it's his intense stare that makes you weak in your knees, his accent that somehow makes him ten times more attractive, or- You cut your thoughts off. You felt guilty for feeling this way about Miles. You know you shouldn't. These feelings you harbor would only cause more harm than good. After all, the people you love always seem to be in danger.

After a couple of hours of pure torture, (Spanish grammar) Miles started to speak, "Escúchame, mami. I-"

Loud, blaring police sirens cut off his sentence. Thanks, Brooklyn. Pretending to get a message from your mother, you glance at your phone's screen and look at Miles with an apologetic expression, "Shit, sorry Miles but I gotta go. My mother wants me home. She said it was urgent. But we're still on for tomorrow right?" Miles raises a skeptical eyebrow but ultimately says, "Yea. It's 'Ight, princesa. See you tomorrow" his accent lacing his words. You get up to kiss his cheek and wave him goodbye. As normal friends do, you tell yourself. Shit. You shake the thoughts away before your overthinking completely undoes your brain.

You wait until you're at least a couple blocks away from his house before you reveal the spider suit underneath your clothing and pull your mask down your face. You thwip your webs and swing away to investigate what crime was scheming tonight in Brooklyn. Leaving Miles alone in his room to regret not telling you.

Honestly, you weren't paying attention to whatever Miles was saying. Instead, you were just focusing on how attractive you found his accent. You'd suffer through two more years of Spanish just to hear his voice. In fact, during most of these tutoring lessons with Miles, you weren't paying attention to the actual lesson. It doesn't help that he keeps staring at you with those eyes of his. But behind that cold exterior, you knew he had a soft spot for you. Even if he didn't outright admit it.

Miles' voice brought your attention back to the actual lesson, "Lo entiendes, princesa?" Miles asked you with a knowing smirk. You nodded your head immediately, trying to play it off. "Uhh, si." You said with a thumbs up, immediately regretting it. That was so nerdy. You shame yourself in your mind. You pretended to take notes, shamefully lowering your head down to your notebook.

While you were pretending to take notes, Miles broke the silence.

"So what's up with you and that guy from earlier?" "I told you, he's just a friend. Nothing is going on between us." Miles puts his hands up in his defense, "Alright, mami. It just didn't look like that with the way you were laughing at whatever he said. He's not Kevin Hart."

Way to completely ruin the mood. You dropped the pencil you were holding and stopped taking notes. Looking directly into his eyes, you said "Miles, I really don't know what your deal is." "You really wanna know what 'my deal is'? 'Ight. It's 'cause-"

Miles' phone beeps, interrupting him. He cursed in his mind, not being able to tell you how he felt yet again. He glances down at his screen. "Ay princesa," Miles spoke up, his words never failing to make your face go warm. His nicknames for you weren't new by any means, but they still made your heart flutter. He continued, "Uncle Aaron needs me, I gotta roll. He said it's an emergency. Don't think I'm trying to cut this short. You're still my girl, alright?" He started to leave when he turned around suddenly. He walked over to you and turned your head to him with his hand, kissing your forehead. "Hasta luego, mami." He left the room, leaving you alone in his room with only your thoughts swirling around your mind. You were sure you were about to have a heart attack. His girl? The kiss? Miles was acting oddly affectionate. And what's with him practically using the same excuse I used? It's not like he's the crime-fighting vigilante here. You rolled your eyes.

You didn't know what Miles and his uncle were so busy doing, but you had a feeling that it wasn't very morally right. That would explain how ambiguous he's been lately. More often than not, he's had to leave in the middle of tutoring to tend to whatever his Uncle needed him for. But you can't entirely blame him, you have secrets you've been hiding from him too.

You packed up your things and left his room. "Chao, Mrs. Morales. Thank you for letting me into your home!" You said to Miles' mother while leaving. "Of course, you're always welcome here." She replied to you with a warm smile. That woman was a true saint.

If you had to spend any more time confined in a room alone with Miles and just your emotions, you were sure you'd fucking lose it. By losing it, I mean grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and kissing him senseless. But you were afraid. Afraid that he would take your heart right out of your chest to shatter it and then leave you alone to pick up the pieces. So, you came up with a little white lie to get out of tutoring today.

"Is it alright with you if I skip tutoring today? My mother is sick and I have to take care of her." The lie slipped off your tongue like butter.

"Nah that's cool." He shrugs. Huh. He let me off that easy? You were two seconds away from having the dreaded 'What are we?' conversation with him after last night, until someone's arms wrap around you from behind.

"Hey, beautiful." Your friend from the other day was back. And he clearly didn't see Miles right next to you. You cringe and awkwardly take his arms off of you and turn around, "Hey, Josh." "Are you free tonight?" Miles was watching this interaction with jealousy coursing through his veins. Did this douche seriously not see him right next to you? Right before you could even open your mouth to respond, Miles responds for you. "Hell no she isn't. Get the fuck out of here, man." Miles snaps at him. Your friend's head whipped to Miles so fast you were sure he'd get whiplash. "Oh shit." He stuttered, "Sorry, man. I didn't see you...I'll leave now." He ran away as fast as his feet could take him. Poor Josh.

You glared at Miles. "What the actual fuck was that, Miles? He was just asking me a question." "He was asking you out, idiot." Miles said right back to you. "So what if he was? Honestly. What's it to you? You've been acting so possessive. May I remind you that we are not together?" You snapped at him. "Maybe I want-" He started, but this time, he was the one cutting his sentence off. He couldn't find the words to tell you just yet.

The bell rings. You look at Miles, awaiting his response. When a few silent moments pass by, you finally say, "What? What is it you want?" For once in your friendship with Miles, he didn't have a response. You, he thought. "Y'know what Miles? Until you've come to your senses, just leave me be for now." He had no right to start acting like you were bound to him. You walked to your class without him. He cursed himself in his head.

You'd been ignoring him the whole day. Yet ever the petty, he hadn't messaged you at all.

Your phone pings. "You busy with Jake?" You read. It was from Miles. That petty fucker. Your face immediately drops. That's not even his name. You left him on read and turn off your phone. For someone who thinks he's heartless and nonchalant, he sure was acting possessive.

Dusk approaches Brooklyn and you're out patrolling instead of thinking about Miles. That's all you've been doing lately, and you needed a distraction.

Unfortunately, Miles had the same idea. He was out taking missions Kingpin gave him.

As you were searching the streets of Brooklyn for crime, you sensed a presence. Ahead of you was a silhouette in a dimly lit alley, their back facing you. You hid behind the wall. Finally something interesting tonight! As you climb on the walls and get closer, you recognize the figure.

Oh, great. It's the Prowler.

This wasn't your first time meeting the Prowler. No, you've fought with him in the past. He's ruthless and a cold-blooded killer. He's efficient and excruciatingly fast. That's what makes him an imminent risk to be allowed to roam the streets freely.

As Spider-woman, it's your responsibility to keep the streets of Brooklyn crime-free. So, you follow him. As you're trailing behind him, crawling on the walls, you notice the people he's meeting with. It's an arms deal, you realize. As you crawl closer, you notice that they weren't regular arms. They were abnormally high-tech for these seemingly harmless criminals.

I'll just web up the couple of amateurs and then deal with the big guy Prowler, easy. Oh how wrong you were.

"Hey, boys! Nice toy you've got there." You said as you dropped your voice down an octave, disguising your voice. You jump down from your place on the wall and thwip your webs at the unsuspecting arms dealers, binding them to the wall. They were knocked unconscious.

You thwip'd your webs at the weapon and effectively took it away from them. You'd have to drop it by the police station later with a friendly note.

The Prowler lunged at you, his steel claws missing your face by an inch.

"Hey, man! That felt a little personal." You shouted, thankful to still have your face attached to your head. You used your webs to grab onto the Prowler and strike him directly on his mask. You started to run, with the Prowler tailing right behind you.

He had you cornered, but you weren't surrendering that easily. You positioned into a defensive stance, ready to defend yourself.

His mask was cracked a bit, causing his voice modulator to reveal his unfiltered voice. "Nowhere to run, spider."

Your heart dropped as your eyes widened through your mask. Not in fear, but in recognition. You could recognize that voice anywhere. That was the voice that sent shivers down your whole body, yet made you want to strangle him the next.

"...Miles?" The words came out more of a whisper. Your voice sputtered as you dropped your fake voice. You webbed the weapon to the wall, disregarding it. Turns out, he didn't need to reject you to shatter your heart into a million pieces.

His stance immediately faltered. He could recognize your voice out of a thousand others.

Prowler, or rather Miles, stood silent.

“Miles, take off that damn mask. I know it's you.” You took off your mask, and he opened his. His eyes were unreadable. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into Miles?" You sighed. You didn't recognize him anymore. You didn't know who he was. There was no way the Miles you knew had become this.

"Fuck, princesa. I didn't want you to get involved in this shit. You're the fucking spider?" You feel as if he was seeing you for the first time again. "I'm fucking Spider-woman, you dick. And I've been involved with this 'shit' ever since I got bit by a spider. Now explain this, whatever you've turned into!" You spurted out, pointing at his suit. "I got roped into business with Kingpin after my father died. Shit, I never meant for this to happen." He exclaimed.

"What, you think you're protecting me by not telling me? Bullshit." You say, throwing your hands up in the air. "I was protecting you. I was protecting you from Kingpin. Because I fucking love you. I meant it when I said you were my girl." He proclaimed.

When you thought this night couldn't get any wilder, it just did.

Alarms blared in the back of your mind, telling you to leave. Your brain is screaming at you to think about your moral obligation to stop the Prowler, no matter who he is. But your heart is telling you otherwise. You choose the latter.

"Fuck, Miles. Shut the hell up." You threw a web at his abdomen and pulled him towards you, efficiently shutting him up by connecting your lips to his. Sliding your hands onto his braids, you pulled him in closer. He immediately reciprocated and grinned into the kiss, setting his arms on your hips.

Turning into a heated make-out session, he backed you against the wall of the alley. You felt your legs giving out on you. Miles put his knee in between your legs, supporting you. He kissed you with passion. He's pinned for you for the longest time, and he finally has you. He wasn't going to give it up for anything. Unfortunately, you needed oxygen to live, so you pulled back. A string of saliva connected your lips as you parted.

He took away all the oxygen in your body, and apparently your moral compass as well, with only one kiss. Unable to open your eyes until a few moments after, you fluttered your eyes open. "I fucking love you too, Miles" You whispered against his lips. "Oh, really? Couldn't tell." He teased with a smirk, his lips seconds away from yours as he looked down at you. He held your gaze with longing in his eyes.

Muffled screams ruined the moment. Miles and you react immediately, putting your masks back on. You got your webs ready while Miles had his steel daggers out. Lowering your guards, you realize it was the couple of guys you webbed up and forgot. "Sorry, I'll go take care of them." You said as you rubbed the back of your head awkwardly. Miles stifled a laugh as he said, "That's alright, ma. You can make it up to me later." You heard the smugness in his voice as you swung away to the police station. You made sure to fulfill his request later that night.

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part 2!

#miles morales x reader #miles morales #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #into the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #prowler miles #miles morales spider man #spider man #spiderman into the spiderverse #jealousy #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers

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primofate · 4 months ago

Text

Is it a crime to post unfinished drafts? It's been sitting for 2 years already. I'm letting this one go.

Genshin Series - The sides of him only you get to have and see Part 5: Angry/Frustrated [All male characters]

Other works in this series: (Part 1 - Soft and Gentle) (Part 2 - flustered) (Part 3 - clingy) (Part 4 - Worried)

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, depending on the prompt, lots of different scenarios, some protective, some a bit yandere, some aggressive... quite long cause i got carried away >_>

Personal favourites in this work: Ayato, Bennett

Aether

When his investigation about his sister’s whereabouts turns up into a dead end

“...What if I never find her?” His voice is just a whisper as the two of you sit side by side around the campfire. Paimon is already sleeping off to the side, exhausted by the day’s events.

You can hear the desperation in his voice, and it cripples you as well, the hurt that comes with losing a loved one and being unable to find them. You let yourself fall sideways and lay your head on his shoulder, hoping to give him some comfort. “...We’ll keep looking, Teyvat’s a big place, you know,” you whisper and it seems that your answer only serves to frustrate him more.

“That’s exactly the problem... Sometimes I don’t know where to start and I don’t know where to look first... I just...” His fists clench for a moment but he relaxes with a small sigh minutes later, arm wounding around your back to pull you closer to his side. “Sorry... I don’t mean to complain so much,”

You shake your head as you bask in his warmth. “You’re allowed to feel this way, Aether. I’m right here beside you, okay?”

His gaze softens, head leaning towards the crown of your head to place a kiss there. “Thank you, Y/N,” he wouldn’t know what to do if he lost you as well.

Albedo

When someone is too rough with you.

Could he request you not to work at the tavern? Possibly, yes. But Albedo was not the type to tie you down or tell you what to do. Plus, you were capable of taking care of yourself.

Sometimes he would pick you up from your shift, however, today the Cat’s Tail was a little understaffed and you had to work a few more orders before you could go.

“Hey!” You jump as one tavern-goer stands and smashes his glass of beer on the table with a loud THUD. “This isn’t what I ordered!” Frankly you were used to this by now, but it didn’t mean that you were any less startled. You calmly walked over to the table and took back the mugs that you just placed when the same person grabs your wrist.

The mugs sway in your hand, the beer in it pouring over your fingers a little as it sloshed. “Sir?” You ask as the man’s hand tightens around your wrist.

The man grunts and growls “Make sure you tell the bartender to give me a discount for giving the wrong order!” Drunkards were like that. They were loud and sometimes couldn’t control themselves, you twist your wrist away successfully and relay the message to the bartender, though you noticed that Albedo was there too, waiting for you to come back.

Albedo catches your arm and lifts your wrist up to eye level. There’s a blank look on his face that you can’t quite read and for a moment his eyes dangerously flicker to the group of tavern-goers who gave you trouble. You sense that he’s a little irked. “It’s okay ‘Bedo, I’m fine, just the usual rowdy people, you know?” You reassure him and his stern face drops, replaced by that of defeat with a small sigh.

It’s “just the usual” you say. He doesn’t quite know how to feel about that, if this was “usual”, yet he understood. Every job came with its risks and this was already relatively safer than being an adventurer. Albeo sighs again and brings your wrist up to his lips, his eyes yet again dart towards the said table. He really wanted to have a word with those rude men, but he avoided conflict for your sake.

“Alright, Y/N. As long as you keep your promise,” he reminds you. Jogging your memory that you had promised to tell him if something dire really happens at work.

Ayato

When his status affects you

You’re aware that ever since you and Ayato were married, his shuumatsuban had also been following you around. Ayato reassured you that it was for your own good, and you somewhat agreed. You weren’t that bothered by it, since the shuumatsuban were so good at concealing their presence, it seemed like nothing changed in your every day routine.

“Master Ayato,” and so imagine Ayato’s annoyance when he receives a report from one of his men that you were being tailed by someone suspicious. “...Capture him,”

In the secret dungeons of the Kamisato residence, there is a pitiful man sitting in the middle of a cell with bars. Kamisato Ayato stands in front of him, cold and calculating look on his face. “State your reason for tailing Y/N,” he would break this man quick, and get all the answers he needed for your safety.

“I-I-I swear I’m not a bad guy! I just--Someone told me they’d pay me a huge amount of money to kidnap Y/N!” Ayato doesn’t break his cold gaze from the man, but he also can’t control the way he unsheathes his sword and starts to clean it with a cloth, as if getting ready for an execution.

“Then for your own good I suggest you give me all the names of these people who bribed you,” His tone is calm, but also eerie. “After that’s done, you won’t lay your eyes on Y/N again... Is that understood?”

He couldn’t afford for anything to happen to you, specially not when it was because of him.

Bennett

When his bad luck affects you

Bennett had been quiet the whole way back to Mondstadt. As per usual a few things happened that proved his luck was horrid.

Today seemed to be one of the worst.

Not only did you not finish the commission given to you, but things happened one after the other.

First, the two of you couldn’t find the monster you were looking for. Second, when you finally found it, it proved to be difficult to subdue. Third, the treasure the two of you found was not really treasure at all. Fourth, you could not find the item that you were supposed to bring back to town and finally, fifth, a once wonderful, cloudless and breezy day suddenly turned glum and the rain poured down on your heads.

Bennett was utterly defeated, and you knew it cause he had been quiet up until the gates of Mondstadt, when the two of you finally took shelter for a moment from the rain. He usually would still be upbeat and positive, no matter what he went through, but seeing you sneeze and shiver in the rain, on top of being tired and grimey, he really couldn’t help but hate his bad luck.

You glanced at him at the corner of your eye, he was looking at the ground with his brows furrowed. The look of frustration was foreign in his face but you said what you always did after an adventure with him. “...Today was fun, Bennett. Let’s go again tomorrow!”

His head snaps up in an instant, eyes wide and tracing your face for any lies and dishonesty. All he saw was your bright smile and eager disposition. Truthfully you had learned to be incredibly positive because of him, and if he needed a little bit of that positivity, then you were willing to give it back, no matter how hard things were.

For a split second his lips looked as if they trembled, his shoulders relaxed and a wobbly smile appears on his face. He nearly barrels into you with a hug, and mumbles “You’re the best Y/N,”

Bennett always thought that you were his sun, and he loved every bit of the time he spent with you.

Chongyun

When he isn’t able to protect you

“’Yun?” You call out from your sitting position on your bed, and Chongyun, for the umpteenth time that day, slightly jerks up on the chair next to you, eyes darting towards your face.

“Hm?” he says, trying to brush off the fact that he had been zoning out, small, shy smile on his face.

You’re silent for a moment, staring back at him. The cogs in your mind working a bit more. “...You’re upset aren’t you?”

The way he tenses up at your accusation tells you the answer, but still he denies it. “N-No,”

You sigh, your bandaged arm resting on your side. The wound didn’t hurt that much, but Chongyun was the one who insisted he’d feed you instead of making you use your dominant, injured arm. He was so embarrassed when he offered it. Face red and unsure what to say except that he was holding the bowl of porridge your mother made in his hands and that was enough of a cue for you.

“...Aah,” You open your mouth again, and that’s when Chongyun snaps out of it, realizing that he hadn’t even finished feeding you. So he proceeds to give you another spoonful.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” You confirm after you swallow that bite and he again tenses up without saying anything.

You knew he hated it when the two of you went adventuring together and you ended up getting hurt. Occasionally it would be him with the injury, but when you got injured, somehow, to him, it was a graver matter than him getting hurt.

That statement opens his dam of insecurities. “I’m too weak...If I had been a little faster...”

“I must be pretty weak too then, if I wasn’t even able to dodge it,” you counter and you see him open his mouth in protest but close it again, knowing that you had laid a trap for him if he disagreed. He went silent again.

“...I think you’re really cool Chongyun, the way you handle your claymore makes you look really handsome,” you giggled a little cause you knew he was going to go red and sputter out a response.

“W-W-What do you mean?” He proceeds to shove another spoonful in your face, probably so that you wouldn’t actually be able to reply. “A-Anyway...I...I’ll work harder to protect you,” he finishes his sentence and you don’t protest nor say another thing anymore, seeing as he at least got some of his good mood back.

Dainsleif

When you don’t keep a promise

“You said you would meet me by the tree in Windrise. Imagine my distress when you didn’t show up,” Dainsleif had his arms crossed over his chest, eyes actually glaring at you.

“I know but you know how things can get. The job was a little more difficult than expected and it took longer to finish,”

You’d found yourself trudging deep through the forest to locate the cabin he considered his “home”. Far away from everything else and nearly impossible to locate if you had never been there before. You arrived by morning, knocking at his door and unsurprised with the dumbfounded look on his face.

He still welcomed you in, but he didn’t say a word and the air was tense even as he placed a glass of water on the table for you.

Then you were here, getting the lecture from him.

“Then you shouldn’t have promised to be there. It’s a simple thing to communicate with me that you’re not sure when you��ll be done, I would have waited,” He continued and you sighed, cause you knew that he was right. You really shouldn’t have promised you were going to be there on time. It’s not as if it’d be the end of the world if you were a day or two late.

“I know, I’m sorry. I guess I just wanted to see you as soon as I could and I wasn’t thinking,” you should’ve known by now that promises were a heavy thing to Dainsleif.

You heard him give out one of his own sighs and then his hand cups your chin and tilts it up to meet him eye to eye. “I trust you understand why I’m angry,” his voice had levelled down a little, and though he was frustrated earlier you can always see the worry behind his gaze and the love in his eyes.

You smile a little and nod your head, still a little apologetic. “If I can’t find you, if you happen to go missing, do you know what that would do to me?” He asks you, eyes finally dropping the glare and just softly gazing at you.

“I know,” you whisper and lean your face closer to his hand. Your arm reaches out to hold his coat, tugging on it a little as if a small child. “...I know you weren’t able to sleep...and I spent the whole night trying to make it back to you...so can we rest for a bit?” You suggest and he found it a good idea.

He wordlessly sweeps you into his arms and kisses your forehead, bringing the two of you into the bedroom.

Diluc

When you forget to tell him where you’re going and he doesn’t know where you are

“Adelinde, did Y/N mention skipping dinner today?” Diluc asked his head maid. He was alone at the dinner table and you were nowhere to be found in the mansion.

Adelinde considered her words carefully. A slight misuse of words would send the young master into a spiral of worry and anxiety. She was a hundred percent sure you had just forgotten to tell someone that you were going to be out for dinner, because you’ve done it before, bless your bad memory, but Adelinde really wished you would at least tell the young master.

“...They didn’t mention, Master Diluc...but I’m sure they must be out on some errands in Mondstadt,” it was a gamble for Adelinde to state that, because she also didn’t know where you were, and she would be in deep trouble if you didn’t come home at all.

Diluc started to eat, albeit slowly and glanced at Adelinde when she made that statement. “...Did they mention going on an errand?” he asked again, to which Adelinde now had to truthfully reply. “...No,”

Cue the distress in Diluc’s features. Furrowed brows, cutlery not even moving, eyes calculating. You could practically see all the assumptions run through his face. Maybe you were in trouble, maybe you were taken, maybe you were lost somewhere and needed help. You would have said something if you were going to be home late, no?

Diluc dropped his cutlery on the table, and he started going back through his memories to determine whether or not you actually had said anything about today. He would have remembered, and as far as he could tell, you didn’t say anything about not having dinner with him today, or anything of the sort.

He was about to push himself up and away from the table, to double check at Mondstadt if anyone had seen you, when the front door opened, revealing you with a basket of goods and a smile on your face. Diluc practically deflated, your name a sigh on his lips, “Y/N,”

You knew that look, and you knew that look that Adelinde was giving you. “Oh Archons. I’m sorry, I went out in a hurry and just forgot to tell anyone where I was going,” your smile dropped almost immediately as you scurried over to the table with an apologetic gaze on your face turned towards Diluc.

You knew how worried he could get, he could already feel the adrenaline starting to pump through him, thinking about all the worst case scenarios. Diluc sighed once again, repositioning himself properly in front of the table and picking up his cutlery again. He was slightly angry, you could tell. Mostly because this wasn’t the first time it had happened. “...Put your things down and we can eat,” he simply said and you pouted a little while passing the things over to Adelinde, then sitting on your side of the table.

“...I don’t get my welcome back kiss?” You chide him playfully, to which his eyes lazily graze over you and back to his plate of food.

“When you start remembering to tell someone where you’re going in the middle of the night, I’ll start giving you your welcome back kisses,” he strictly exclaims and you could only grumble under your breath.

Gorou

When he spends too much time training or working and loses time with you

“Hahhhh...” Gorou plops down on the tatami floor of his home with a loud and long sigh. Not only was training and the patrols a little harsh today, but that was another day gone without getting to see you.

How long had it been now? Eight, nine days? He was starting to get really antsy about not being able to see you and he knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault but his.

That night he couldn’t immediately fall into a peaceful sleep. He tossed whenever he thought of you and turned whenever he started thinking too much of what the two of you would do together the next time you saw each other. It was like planning out a whole date in his mind but realizing that he didn’t even have any day offs soon. So he would deflate and be disappointed in himself, try to go to sleep, then get carried away thinking about you again, causing him to snap his eyes open and repeat the thinking process.

“Arrghhh!” At some point he shakes his head and shuts his eyes tight, the frustration getting to him. He had to sleep, or he’ll have a really tiring day tomorrow.

When he woke up the next morning to knocks on his door he immediately thought he had overslept. He scrambled to his feet, swinging the door open with his still disheveled fluffy hair and said “I-I’ll be right there! I just--” then he reels back, blinking, realizing that it was you standing there are the door. “Y-Y/N?! What’re you doing here?”

He smooths his hair down, tries to pat down his wrinkly house clothes but his eyes are tacked on to you, wide and happy.

“I figured I’d visit you this time, since you seem really busy,” you laugh sheepishly, scratching your cheek. “I hope I’m not intruding,”

“Of course not!” He replies quickly but coughs on his hand right after. “I-I mean. Yeah, you’re always welcome here,” he smiles and beams at you, but then slumps his shoulders right after. “I...I still have work though, so I won’t be able to spend a lot of time with you...”

You shake your head and wave your hands “That’s alright! I can still spend lunch and dinner with you, right? That’s more than enough for me,”

His heart blooms with a warmth that engulfs his body, his cheeks might have turned red. You were just oh-so sweet to him and oh-so kind, he didn’t know what he did to deserve an angel like you.

Heizou

When he can’t help you with your problems

Heizou is a genius at solving problems, but he knows that sometimes there are problems that he can’t solve nor he shouldn’t interfere with. One of those was problems within your family.

Sure, he had solutions and probably ways to diffuse the rising tensions in your family, but he wasn’t really in the right place to do so. All he could do is listen to you rant and complain about how things are getting so much harder with your mom and dad, and you just wanting to run away from it all, move out as soon as you can but you were tied down with the obligation of caring for your sick mother.

It pains him and frustrates him, watching you stress over it day by day, but as much as he wanted to tell your parents that they were affecting you this much, there are some things that he shouldn’t meddle with.

All he could do was offer advice. “...Perhaps move out and live somewhere close to them? It would still give you the advantage of privacy,” he suggests, as he sits next to you on a bench, arm coming around and behind your back, hand resting on your hip.

“I would, but the houses nearby are actually pricey, mostly because they’re family houses, not for a single person rent,” You lean sideways into him. He’s always so good at giving you solutions, though you’re unaware of the internal battle inside him, seeing you so distraught like this.

“...Well why not live with me then?” You can hear that familiar mischief in his voice, and though you know he’s joking it still flusters you.

“D-Don’t say that as a joke, Heizou!” He chuckles at your reaction, just as he expected, but he leans in to place a kiss atop your head, his next sentences sending a shiver up your spine. “It’s a joke now, but someday I’ll make it real, regardless of what your parents say,”

Of course he ends it with a wink.

Itto

When someone hurts you and he witnesses it

Itto doesn’t get angry easily. He just doesn’t have the capacity for it. He was loud, yes, but good natured overall and never means any actual harm to anyone.

Unfortunately you can’t say the same thing about some people in Inazuma. For the most part, people were friendly, amicable, helpful...but sometimes there were the odd balls that just appeared out of nowhere, wreaking havoc when they wanted to.

Just the other day a group of ronin who claimed to be the strongest group of vagabonds roaming Inazuma entered town and they were loud and gruff about it. “Where’s the best inn in town?” They asked at the entrance, and a kind man directed them towards it.

The next day that man was bullied by the same ronin. “We said the BEST inn in town, not the most EXPENSIVE!” You had witnessed it, the man who was just trying to help them was starting to cower backwards, the ronin were complaining about the price of the room, how they wanted the man to pay for it and you just couldn’t stand that blatant bullying.

“What’s your problem? Of course it’s going to be expensive!” You appeared behind the group and just couldn’t help but be angry at their stupidity and overall disgusting behaviour. One of them looks at you, then starts to laugh and the others follow suit, all laughing at you as if you were a clown on the streets.

You didn’t falter and merely crossed your arms above your chest. “If you have nothing better to do then maybe you should look for a job so you can pay for your next inn,” was provoking them a good idea? Of course not, and you knew that.

One of the ronins grabs you and twists your arm behind your back. You could only let out a whimper at the sudden motion but as soon as it happened it was over. You found yourself suddenly pushed behind, looking at Itto’s back as he shoves the ronin away with a harsh force.

“The hell do you think you’re doing touching Y/N like that?!” Itto’s voice is loud, louder than when he’s excited about eating ramen or louder than when he’s discovered a magnificent onikabuto. The anger in his voice is unusual, you don’t immediately recognize it as his.

Itto’s tall. Taller than any of the ronin around you and suddenly it’s as if the ronin become meek little mice, stepping away from him and you. “W-We were just--”

Itto brandishes his claymore, “Less talking, more fighting. You want a real arm wrestle? Come at me,” you can’t imagine what kind of face he’s making, but the ronin--actually just cowards--runs at the sight of Itto’s weapon and he’s just about to go after them when you call out to him, telling him to calm down.

He doesn’t listen easily, but you place a hand on his arm and he stops, still glaring and huffing at the sight of those stupid ronins running away.

Scaramouche

When you have to be paired up with another Harbinger for work

“You’re going with who?” There’s poison dripping from his voice, but you’re so used to his antics by now that it doesn’t scare you one bit.

“Tartaglia. The Tsaritsa said--”

“Fuck what the Tsaritsa says,” Scaramouche cuts you off. “You’re not going with that fool,” He stands and paces back and forth now. You simply sit at the table and watch him, knowing that he’s going to throw one of his “tantrums” again. “Possibly the worst person to go on a mission with,” he continues to grumble, now biting on his thumb.

“You always get worked up whenever the two of us are paired up together. It really isn’t that bad,” you exclaim, shrugging your shoulders and he stops walking to glare at you.

“So it’s a little bad? Is that what you’re insinuating?” He doesn’t let you finish and adds. “You don’t know how dangerous he is,”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh quite obviously. “Scara, I think you’re more dangerous?”

Tartaglia

“I’m different,” He mumbles under his breath.

When his alone time with you gets interrupted

Thoma

When you get sick but he’s busy

Venti

When he hasn’t seen you in days

Xiao

When he wants you to stay

Xingqiu

When a book he’s reading isn’t as good as he thought it would be

Zhongli

When someone doesn’t respect your boundaries

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wandascosmic · 21 days ago

Text

just maybe (9)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

part nine of 'you belong with me' series

summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office

word count: 3193

tags: swearing, playful mention of sex, an office fire drill, best friends to lovers, idiots already in love to lovers, reader having an insane amount of self-control as always, jealousy jealousy from our favorite sokovian

taglist: @reginassweetheart @rroyale-109 @marvel-posts @sheriffhaughtearp

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9

“Shield Industries, this is Wanda,” Wanda introduces as she answers the receptionist's phone. Upon hearing the voice, Wanda furrows her brows. “Sure, can I ask who’s calling?” The person responds with their name. “Just a second.” Wanda turns to hit a button on the phone.

Suddenly, your phone begins to ring. “Y/N L/N,” you state, picking up the call. You laugh, hearing that it was your current almost girlfriend. “What, how did you get this number?” You mock with a grin. “Stalker,” you shake your head.

Wanda’s not sure how she feels as she watches the happy expression on your face from her desk. You seem content with Valkyrie, but something about her just made Wanda feel uneasy. She’s come to the conclusion that she’s probably just protective of you, since you’ve always been her best friend, and since knowing you she had never really seen you in any serious relationships. She simply cared for you, a lot.

“So we’re still on for lunch?” you ask Valkyrie. “Are you meeting me here? Okay. Great. See you later. Bye,” you finish with a smile, hanging up.

You were about to get back to work when Wanda calls out to you from across the room. “Hey,” she says, causing you to turn your head towards her, and gives you a small smile. “You can just give her your extension.”

“Sure,” you nod, before returning to the papers on your desk.

Wanda frowns.

***

There was a deafening loud sound reverberating through the entire office. The smoke detector, of course.

You sigh. You just wanted to get through the day uninterrupted, not including the lunch you had planned with Valkyrie. And, of course, spending as much time as you could with Wanda. Just one normal day, please.

And right on time, Sam begins to shout. “Okay, people, this is not at test! Everybody make your way to the exits!” He calls out.

“Do not panic!” Tony yells alongside him. “Everyone, just get up from your desks, arms at your side!”

“This is not a drill, move quickly, everyone, this is a paper company, come on!” Sam screams at the top of his lungs, rather dramatically. If you weren’t at a risk for being set on fire, you would’ve had a witty sarcastic remark ready on the tip of your tongue for him. “This whole place is a tinder box, it’s ready to blow!”

You’re making your way out the exits, when suddenly Wanda immediately runs towards you and meets the rhythm of your stride, holding your hand.

You give her a confused look. “Nat says we should have safety partners,” she responds with a shrug.

“I didn’t hear that–” you begin to say.

“Clear out, stat!” Sam interrupts, sprinting past the two of you and clearly out of breath after screaming out fire safety laws for the past 10 minutes.

Forgetting your previous statement, you turn to the brunette beside you once you’ve both made it safely to the parking lot outside. “Please tell me we can prank Sam after this,” you tell Wanda, bringing out a huge grin on her face.

“Oh, for sure,” she responds immediately. “In fact, I’m drafting up about 5 plans right now in my mind.”

You laugh. “Of course you are, Maximoff.” Wanda squeezes your hand in return.

***

“Okay, you know what?” you call out to the people around you. It had been ten minutes, and you were thoroughly bored of standing around. “I think Wanda and I are gonna set an agenda around here.”

Wanda nods with a grin.

Clapping your hands together lightly, you call towards the rest of the office staff. “Can everybody gather up, please? Important announcement.” You say. “I think this is a perfect opportunity for all of us to participate in some really intense,” you pause, “psychologically revealing conversations.”

You give Wanda a look to finish the rest of your announcement. “So,” she turns to face the crowd. “We’re gonna be playing Desert Island…”

“”Who Would You Do?” you continue, making Wanda snicker.

“And, “Would You Rather?”” Wanda finishes.

“Would You Rather,” you agree.

You’re about to start the first game, when suddenly, the fire trucks pull in and the firefighters run through the office crowd to get into the building.

“What’s up, guys, long time no see,” you greet slightly, making Wanda smack you playfully on the arm. “What?” you laugh.

She rolls her eyes in response. “You’re a dork.”

You stick your tongue out at her in return, and turn back to the crowd once all the firefighters have made their way through.

“Okay, so, first, three books on a desert island,” you look around, trying to pick the first person to go. “Nat,” you point.

Nat squints her eyes suspiciously at the interaction in front of her first, before answering. “The Hunger Games, and a Russian dictionary, to make sure I’m not out of practice.”

“Okay, you have one more book though,” you say.

“Rather not,” Nat responds.

“Okay,” you say with a shrug, and turning towards your best friend. “Wanda, next person?”

Wanda nods, looking around to pick the right person. “Peter!” she says.

“Oh,” Peter responds shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, Death by Black Hole, Nonlinear Dynamics and Chaos, and one of the scientific journals I read a while ago but I can’t remember the name.”

“Alright, that’s pretty cool,” you say.

“No, it’s not,” Sam retorts immediately. “If he burned them, he would only be warm for like seven seconds. Question, is there firewood on the island?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

Sam scoffs. “Then I would bring an axe. No books.”

“That’s actually pretty practical, Mr. Sam,” Peter squeaks out.

“Peter, you don’t need to agree with the guy,” you reassure. “I never do.”

Peter nods, shifting his weight on his feet instead.

You look at Sam once more. “You can’t bring an axe, Sam. Just books.”

Sam narrows his eyes at you. “Fine, then. Physician’s Desk Reference.”

“Nice. Smart.”

But unfortunately, Sam continues. “But hollowed out. Inside, waterproof matches, iodine tablets.” Wanda turns to you with an expression that tells you she’s trying not to laugh. You roll your eyes playfully in response. “Beet seeds, protein bars, NASA blanket, and, in case I get bored, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. No, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.” Wanda finally can’t help herself and lets out a small snicker. “Question, did my shoes come off in the plane crash?”

***

Unfortunately, the books don’t last very long since it appears that people don’t read too much in the Shield Industries office. However, you’re definitely remembering Wanda’s answer for her next birthday.

“Okay, DVDs, five movies, what would you bring?” you ask the crowd.

Bruce immediately raises his hand.

“Yes, Bruce?”

Bruce starts naming all of his guilty pleasure movies, and you and Wanda look at each other while struggling not to laugh.

“Wow,” you whisper quietly to her as Bruce continues naming his choices.

“Well, I kind of like–” Wanda whispers one of the movies to you through her quiet giggles.

“Wanda, you’re misinterpreting this,” you tease gently. “These are desert island movies, you know? Not guilty pleasure movies. These are the movies you’re gonna be watching for the rest of your life! Forever!”

“I take it back,” Wanda grins, facing you.

“Unforgivable,” you shake your head.

“I take it back!” Wanda wraps her arms around yours.

***

“Wanda,” you turn to the brunette so she’s facing your front. “Your turn, five movies, go ahead.”

Wanda groans, looking at you with a hopeful expression on her face. “Does it have to be movies? What about sitcoms?” she asks excitedly.

You hum thoughtfully. “What do you guys think?” you turn to the rest of the staff.

“To be fair, I don’t think Maximoff has seen a single movie in her life, so for her, it should be allowed,” Nat says.

“Hey!” Wanda says, slightly offended. “I’ll have you know, when I first came here, Y/N took me to see a bunch of your classic American movies.”

“Oh, did she now?” Nat responds back sarcastically.

“Okay, come on, guys,” you say past the slight blush in your cheeks. “No need to be hostile. Wanda, go ahead and name your top sitcoms you’d bring to the island.”

Wanda immediately forgets about the interaction with Nat and starts naming her favorite shows. “Okay. The Dick Van Dyke Show, of course, I Love Lucy, Malcolm in the Middle, Bewitched, Family Ties…Wait, can I bring one more? I love–”

“Sorry, Maximoff,” you cut off with a grin, causing her to frown. “Five per person, max.”

“But-” she tries.

You shake your head. “Play by the rules, Wanda. Play by the rules.”

“I’m gonna get you back,” she says, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms tightly.

“Don’t doubt it,” you respond cheekily. “But, I’ll get you a donut later to make up for it. How about that?”

Wanda nods, satisfied with your answer and moves to stand next to you once more.

***

“All right, moving on to the main event, Who Would You Do?” you announce.

“Present company excluded?” Bucky asks.

“Um, no,” you shake your head. “Not necessarily.”

Suddenly, a chorus of “Wanda” is heard from the entire crowd, and you look at the recipient seeing how uncomfortable she looks.

“Okay, um, how about I finish explaining the rules first? Let me explain first–” you try to ease Wanda’s embarrassment, but suddenly, you’re interrupted by something you could have never anticipated.

Well, who could ever anticipate Sam’s…colorful personality.

“Everybody Hurts” by REM has begun to blast from Sam’s car, and you look to see him slouching completely lifeless in his driver’s seat.

You try your best to continue past the music. “Yeah, so we’ll get right to— you know what? I’ll be right back. Steve, can you take over for me? Thanks.”

You run off in the direction of Sam’s car, ready to confront him with Wanda trailing beside you.

“Sam?” You ask through the open window. Sam simply turns up the music in response. “Sam! Come on, Sam, use words.”

Sam turns off the music aggressively. “Why didn’t I go to business school?” he asks angrily.

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Who goes to business school?” you ask, looking over at Wanda who shrugs at you in response.

“The intern,” Sam says venomously.

“Peter? He does?”

“Yeah,” Sam responds scornfully. “It’s all him and Tony talk about now. Tony saw a stupid yellow business school book in his car, swiped him from your game, and now Tony’s completely obsessed with him.”

Wanda looks at you before speaking, “you know, I bet Peter thinks to himself, “I wish I were a volunteer sheriff on the weekend.””

You bite your lip to hold back your laugh.

“He doesn’t even know that I do that,” Sam rolls his eyes.

“You should tell him,” Wanda says.

“Oh, yeah, Wanda. Right. That’s gonna help things, just talk it out,” he scoffs. “I hope the war goes on forever and Peter gets drafted.”

“Sam,” Wanda states gently.

“What?” you mouth to her through a smile.

She shakes her head at you with an equally amused grin.

Sam puts his head into his hands. “Fine, I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t— just part of me meant it, okay? Besides, he’d end up being a hero, anyway.”

You duck your head slightly to hold in the laugh that’s dying to come out. Wanda starts to smile too, looking away slightly to prevent being obvious.

“You know what you should do,” you say past your grin, an equally amused expression on Wanda’s face. “You should quit.” You cover your mouth with the top of your fist slightly to hide your smile. “And then,” you turn to face Wanda, “that would stick it to both of them.”

Wanda bites her lip tightly, trying her best to prevent from bursting out into laughter alongside you.

“No, Y/N, I’m not gonna quit,” Sam says completely monotone. “Then Peter wins.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agree, facing Wanda who’s eyes are sparkling with amusement.

Sam puts his hand on top of both yours and Wanda’s, giving you both a grateful expression. “Thanks, you guys. I just need some alone time.”

“Okay,” Wanda says softly, slowly backing away from the car.

“Everybody Hurts” starts blasting again from the speakers, and Sam rolls up the window, slouching once more.

You and Wanda slowly walk back to the group together, laughing loudly together as you finally release the pent-up hysterics you had both been trying to hold back.

“God, he makes it so easy,” you exclaim.

“I know,” Wanda grins. “But, we’re definitely still pranking him! I’m so looking forward to it, I have so many ideas I need to share with you. But, you know, after he gets over his breakup with Tony,” she starts giggling again.

“I can’t wait, Maximoff,” you start snickering loudly alongside her once more.

But suddenly, your moment is cut short, as the source of your unhappiness makes its way in front of you two, and you both stop laughing slightly.

“Hey, guys, what’s going on?” Vision asks, immediately slinging his heavy arm around Wanda’s shoulders.

“Nothing much,” you respond, shrugging as you put your hands in your pockets, feeling a bit out of place.

“Hi, Vis,” Wanda says with a smile.

“Can I hang with you guys for a bit?” Vision asks you both. “The warehouse guys can really be jackasses sometimes, you know?”

You included, you think to yourself.

But if he makes Wanda happy, then you’re happy.

***

Much to your secret dismay, you and Wanda have joined the group once more, along with her fiancé.

“Come on, guys, you know the rules of the game, it’s called “Who Would You Do?”” Steve says in a bit of a frustrated tone.

“Oh!” Tony claps his hands together. “Awesome, I play this game with my friends all the time. Where are we?”

“Um–” Steve says.

“Vision!” Tony points to the new company. “Who would you do?”

“Oh, I got it!” Vision responds, and Wanda smiles lightly to herself. “What’s the name of that girl who’s always wearing black and has a huge bitch face? The red head?”

Wanda’s face falls.

“My name’s Natasha,” Nat responds curtly, crossing her arms.

Vision leans down to face Nat. “Hey, Natasha! I’m Vision, nice to meet you.”

“You’re a dick,” Nat says simply, immediately leaving and making her way to her car.

Wanda looks down at her feet, feeling uncomfortable.

“Hey?” you whisper to Wanda.

Wanda hums in response.

“Look at Sam,” you tell her, pointing to the figure in the red car, now going back and forth between banging his forehead onto his steering wheel, occasionally letting out honks, and banging his head agains the roof of his car.

Wanda lets out a laugh, bringing her hand to her mouth in shock. She turns to look at you. “He’s gonna inflict brain damage or something.”

“Well, then he’ll have opened up a whole new world of pranks for us,” you shrug.

Wanda grins, her spirits lifted from before.

“Y/N!” Tony calls out. “You’re next. Who would you do?”

“Um,” you pause. “Steve, hands down. You know, he’s got that cuddly thing going on, and because he’s prehistoric we could just watch bowling after.”

The group laughs at your joke, Wanda included.

***

The people playing the games had slightly splintered since Sam had run out of his car in an effort to find Tony’s phone, inside the burning office building, and in his words, simply to make him happy. A couple people got bored, and a few others decided to wait by the door of the building just to make sure Sam got out safely.

Wanda was surrounded by a few of the female staff, who had decided to continue the game.

“Definitely Y/N,” a bunch of them said simultaneously. “She’s really cute, and funny.”

Wanda crossed her arms tightly across her body.

“What about you, Wanda?” Jean asked.

“Um,” Wanda looks around. “Probably Steve, too. For the same reasons as Y/N. He seems really nice.”

You’re on a phone call with Valkyrie, walking around the parking lot aimlessly. “Hey, where are you? Oh, good. Yeah, we’re just here, we’re playing Desert Island, five movies.”

***

Sam had finally reconciled with Tony, after finding out the culprit of the fire, was unfortunately Peter’s cheese quesadilla. The boy looked horrified, and you tried to give him a reassuring look in an unfortunate situation.

Suddenly, you were met with the sight of a silver car pulling into the parking lot, seeing it was Valkyrie through the windows.

You walked up with a smile as she parked, rolling down the window to strike up a conversation.

“Hey,” you greeted, smiling as you leant down to talk to her, her immediately grabbing your arm flirtatiously. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she answered, planting a kiss on your cheek. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” you responded, smiling.

“I’m hungry,” she says, referring to your lunch plans.

“You know, I am too,” you agree.

“Oh!” Valkyrie realizes, stepping out of the car. “I have been thinking, the whole way over, and I have my answers,” she shuts the door to the car.

“What answers?” you ask.

“For the desert island,” she says, leaning back against the car door.

“Oh, right!” you say excitedly. “Come on.” You grab her hand and lead her over to the rest of the staff.

“Ladies and gentlemen, gather ‘round, we have one more participant,” you announce. “Be polite,” you say, before turning to Valkyrie. “Desert island, five movies, go.”

“Okay,” Valkyrie smirks. “First, Legally Blonde.”

And suddenly, you’re met with the sound of Wanda’s laughter, as that was the guilty pleasure movie Wanda had told Y/N she liked when Bruce had announced it, only for you to tease her in response.

Unfortunately, after Valkyrie has announced her movies, the crowd had mostly dissipated, and you turn to her apologetically. “Sorry, there was a bigger crowd last time, but you know, great movies,” you say, scratching the back of your neck slightly.

“Don’t worry,” Valkyrie says, grabbing your arm and running her hand up and down your sleeve. “Wanna just go to lunch?”

“Sure,” you agree. “Where are we going?”

“I’m in the mood for Thai, does that work?” Valkyrie responds, getting into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, for sure,” you say, closing the door for her before making your way to the passenger’s seat.

And Wanda narrows her eyes, ‘cause she knows you absolutely hate Thai food.

Scoffing, she turns back to Vision, and grabs him by the collar before firmly connecting their lips.

You frown at the sight in front of you, and turn your head away.

“You okay?” Valkyrie asks, noticing your expression as you close the car door at your side.

“Hm?” you respond. “Oh, oh, yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry.” You reassure, giving her a small smile past the ache in your heart.

“Okay,” Valkyrie agrees, giving you a small kiss on your cheek before driving off.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wandamaximoff #wanda maximoff fluff #marvel mcu #mcu #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 2 months ago

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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 8

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7

“I can’t believe you let me fall asleep!” Chrissy complains, crowding into Steve’s space to desperately try to fix her hair in the mirror.

Steve snorts, unbelievably fond at the way her bangs are going every direction but down. “What am I, your mother?” he asks, fixing his own hair by standing on his tippy toes and looking over her head.

“No, but she will be killing me for this!” Chrissy cries, finally giving up on finger-combing her bangs to dunk the strands into the sink and get them wet. “Thanks for reminding me!”

“You’re bitchy in the morning,” he mutters, grimacing when she pulls her head out of the sink abruptly enough that water droplets fling from her head and onto his shirt. “Now, hurry up, we’re already late.”

She flips him off, ignoring him entirely to continue fixing her hair.

They’re both late; Chrissy doesn’t let him forget it for the rest of the day, as if it’s his fault.

“I remember when I thought you were nice,” Steve mutters, laughing helplessly when she elbows him in the side.

“You love it,” she says, smiling as they sit across from each other in their usual spot in the library, feet settling together beneath the table.

The thing is, he does. He’s always liked Chrissy, even back when she was all sunshine and rainbows, but even more so now that there’s some grit to her.

“Shut up.”

Chrissy beams, all sunshine again as she plunks her stack of books onto the table and shuffles her letter-drafting notebook to the top. Only once she’s opened to a blank page does she bite her lip, looking up at Steve through her lashes.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” she asks, voice hesitant.

“What do you mean?”

She breaks eye contact, fiddling with her pen anxiously. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Steve doesn’t tell her that he already is, that a part of him, the small, squirming part he keeps hidden in his heart, wishes he’d never done this. That watching Eddie kiss Chrissy’s hand and knowing without being told that she’s the kind of girl Eddie might want had broken something inside him. That Steve knows he could never be Eddie’s choice, and knowing that burns.

But, since the flirting started, Steve hasn’t written a word, and that’s worse, somehow. He only has the one tether to Eddie, and he wants to keep it, even if it’s through Chrissy’s handwriting, and Chrissy’s words, and Chrissy’s face.

He just wants.

Instead of saying all that, he reaches out, putting his hand gently on Chrissy’s hand and replies, “I’m sure,” even as the fluttering of his heart makes a liar of him.

Chrissy’s still biting her lip, not looking reassured at all. Steve’s gut churns with worry. ”Are you, though? You didn’t sign up for this, and if you don’t want to do it anymore, that’s okay.”

She smiles, her bottom lip blanched white from her teeth, as she replies, “We’re in this together, right?”

Even with the smile, she still looks worried, but Chissy puts her pen to paper and dutifully writes out the words Steve speaks, editing and revising each thought until it’s something someone might want to hear.

They keep their voices quiet because there are more people sitting in the library than usual today: a big group working on a project, a couple of freshman scowling down at what looks like a Geometry textbook, and closest of all, a girl he recognizes as a band nerd, flipping through a magazine too fast to really be reading it.

It doesn’t take them long—they’ve done this enough times that it’s become almost an art form. Chrissy pushes the completed letter across the table for his final review before it’s signed and sealed.

“It’s good,” Steve says, pushing the letter back across to her to be dropped off in Eddie’s locker.

His heart aches; Steve wants to slap himself.

Instead, he parts ways with Chrissy at their cars, Jeff already waiting beside hers to be driven home, and goes back to his house, bereft of the noise Chrissy had brought only that morning.

***

Eddie had worried when there wasn’t another letter after he’d started talking to Chrissy. Did she not like him anymore? Was she done writing them entirely now that she can talk to him face to face?

He worries incessantly for days about it, even as Chrissy keeps saying hi to him in the halls, keeps smiling back when they catch eyes across the cafeteria, keeps being her usual, friendly self.

It’s just, the letters are different. They’re more raw, somehow, more real. And, no matter how this thing goes with Chrissy, if they stop coming, he’ll miss them.

So, it’s a relief when he opens his locker the Monday after Chrissy’s eventful Hellfire induction to find a letter. He can’t wait to read it, the anticipation has built up over too many days of not receiving any. So, he rushes to the same, familiar bathroom and opens it in the stall he’s starting to think of as his.

Eddie —

How did your show go? I bet you’ve got a couple groupies already, you’ve already got the look for it. Did you figure out the riff for the song you were working on?

I tried playing the piano again, and I’m a little rusty, but it’s like riding a bike, you know? (Do you know how to ride a bike?) It’s nice, playing music, even if it’s all songs someone else has written, and they’re still not coming out right.

I’m sorry it’s been so long since my last letter. I just didn’t know what to say. You’re so patient, and nice, and I got caught up in my head you know? But I missed you.

I slept with your letter beneath my pillow last night, hoping for dreams of you.

Yours, Always

Your Secret Admirer

P.S. I haven’t read it, but maybe I will. Just to keep with the theme, put this letter in The Lord of the Rings.

He devours the words, slumping onto the toilet seat the longer he reads. It’s perfect—just what he was missing. He reads it once, twice, thrice, the same way he had when he’d received the first two, disbelieving that such lovely words were meant for him.

Eddie skips his second period, first already long gone by the time he’d trundled into the school’s parking lot, and pens a response, then and there.

He goes to the library immediately, nervous that if he doesn’t drop it off right away, she’ll assume Eddie isn’t going to write back at all.

He waffles over which book to put it in before finally tucking it into The Fellowship of the ring–it’s the first in the trilogy, and Chrissy’s probably too cool to even know it’s a trilogy.

There’s no response in his locker before Hellfire on Thursday, but that’s okay because true to her word, Chrissy shows up again. She’s smiling as she bounces through the doorway, all springy curls and happy cheer.

“Hi!” Chrissy says, waving as she beams her blinding smile around the room, all that cheerleader enthusiasm on display.

Doug looks struck dumb, staring at her with his mouth open. Gareth’s gaze is darting back and forth from the door to Eddie, eyes growing wider and wider with each pass. Only Jeff smiles and waves back.

“I hope we’re not intruding,” Chrissy says, elbowing Harrington in the side until he finally looks up and gives his own half-hearted wave.

Because Harrington is slumped in the doorway behind her, looking like he’s trying to hide the entire bulk of his body behind Chrissy’s petite frame.

“Uh, hey,” he says, ears strangely pink as his eyes dart around the room.

He never looks Eddie’s way at all.

“Hey, man,” Jeff replies, the only person aside from Chrissy that is currently functioning.

“Steve, can come, right?” Chrissy asks, like he’s not already in the doorway behind her.

Eddie’s gut sinks then swoops. Harrington’s a jock—what will he do locked in a room with a bunch of nerds? But, the chipped nail polish.

Eddie’s mind is full of screaming, thoughts flip flopping over each other as he tries to articulate all the things wrong with Harrington coming to Hellfire, but all that comes out of his mouth is a chipper, “sure!”

Chrissy’s smile grows teeth—is she going to bite him?

Eddie resists the urge to take a step back.

Jeff pulls out the vacant seat beside him, still looking cool as a cucumber while the rest of them scramble. “Come sit down.”

And that’s how he finds himself with a jock in Hellfire. Should they call an exterminator?

It’s Chrissy who takes the seat beside Jeff which leaves the only other empty chair next to Eddie’s throne. Eddie glares at Gareth, gesturing wildly for his friend to move up a seat, but Gareth’s too busy staring at Harrington like he’s a cobra about to strike.

Harrington is looking at the only empty seat with the exact same expression.

“Steve,” Chrissy hisses, and Harrington jumps. “Go sit down.

The pink on his ears travels down to his cheeks—it’s unfair, really, how pretty and even his blush is. When Eddie blushes, he blotches bright red from forehead to chest.

Steve’s embarrassment suits him.

Eddie waits until he’s seated before clapping loud enough that everyone startles as they turn to him. “Now!” he starts in the grand voice he uses when he’s performing his Dungeon Master duties. “Are you two playing?”

“No,” Harrington rushes out, the pink of his blush deepening to a red as he finally meets Eddie’s eyes. “I mean, Chrissy said she just watched last time?”

“We didn’t want to slow you down,” Chrissy cuts in.

Eddie nods, looking between the couple as awkwardness stews in the stilted silence.

“Alright,” he replies. “Gird your loins, lords and lady.”

Knowing a cue when they hear one, the Hellfire boys scramble to pull out character sheets and dice.

And they’re off!

It takes a minute to fall into the familiar minutiae of telling a story with not one but two interlopers, but Eddie manages it. This is where he thrives: a captive audience and all the power to fuck with them in the palm of his hand.

He only stumbles once, words jumbling together when he looks up and catches Harrington staring at him, eyes wide, cheeks still flushed from his earlier embarrassment as he bites his lip, ass literally on the edge of his seat as Eddie cobbles together the climactic finish to their latest encounter.

Harrington looks away quickly, but Eddie knows what he saw: Harrington is into this nerd shit. He’d tease him if he wasn’t worried that it would end in a swirlie.

Still, Eddie can feel his head puffing up like an overfilled balloon. He’s on the top of his game, painting grand adventures with grander words, all gestures and enthusiasm. He feels electric, the way he always does when there’s a new sheep in his flock to impress. His skin’s almost buzzing with it.

After all, even if his audience member is a jock, Eddie’s always been great at putting on a show.

Neither of the interlopers say anything until they’re busy packing up. Eddie lounges back in his throne, watching Chrissy help Jeff with his dice. She’s smiling up at him, clearly just as interested in their nerd shit as Harrington.

Eddie turns his eyes back to Harrington to see how he’s taking his girl talking to a guy that isn’t him only to find Harrington staring at him again. When Eddie meets his eyes, he ducks his head, cheeks tinting that familiar pink.

Is Steve Harrington fucking awkward?

“You’re good at that,” Harrington says quietly.

Eddie hums, confused. He’s shuffling his papers back together, not looking down at what he’s doing. What’s happening in front of him is far more interesting.

“At what, big boy?”

“Uh,” Harrington starts, darting his eyes back up to Eddie’s for a second before looking back down at his fiddling hands. “Telling a story.”

Eddie smiles, something warm and amorphous filling his stomach. “Thanks,” he says, lightly kicking Harrington’s ankle.

Harrington twitches, lets out a quick, “mmhmm,” and then turns away from Eddie to go find his girlfriend, dismissing Eddie without another word.

“Ready to go, babe?” Steve asks, settling his arm around her waist and damn-near frog marching her out of the room.

“Bye, Jeff! Bye, Eddie!” Chrissy calls, still cheerful even as her boyfriend controls her every move. Maybe she’s used to it—first Carver and now Harrington. “See you next week?”

Neither of them wait for a reply.

The silence is stifling in their wake. Only Jeff seems unbothered as he stuffs all of his supplies into his backpack. Doug hasn’t even touched his dice.

“What the hell was that?” Gareth asks, whipping around to Eddie.

“How the hell should I know?”

Jeff snorts. “You invited them,” he says.

“I invited Chrissy,” Eddie whines. “She invited Harrington.”

That catches Jeff’s attention. He glares at Eddie like he’s the one that had invaded their sacred space. “You’re not this stupid,” he says, swinging his backpack onto his back and striding toward the door. “I’ve got a ride home, don’t wait for me.”

“What does that mean?” Eddie demands.

The only answer is the door swinging shut.

***

Once he’s walked Chrissy to her car and watched her pull out of the parking lot safe from Carver’s creepy hands, Steve collapses into his own car. He presses his face into the steering wheel and groans, long and loud, assured in his safe isolation.

When the passenger door opens, he jumps, neck cracking with the speed at which he turns his head, ready to fight off the trespasser.

“Oh, it’s you,” Steve says, dropping his head back to the steering wheel.

“He knows,” Jeff says, voice serious enough that Steve raises his head back up immediately, heartbeat ratcheting up.

It takes a second for the words to connect, and when they do, his heartbeat quickens further, sweat pooling on the back of his neck, hands clenched hard enough on the steering wheel to hurt as fight or flight hits him.

“What?” he asks, the word cracking around his suddenly parched throat.

“Shit,” Jeff mutters, reaching out to pat Steve’s shoulder. “Not about you!”

Steve’s shoulders slump, breath shuddering out of him as Jeff continues to pat his shoulder, too awkward to be all that comforting. “Then, what—”

“He knows Chrissy is putting the notes in his locker.”

Steve sighs, slumping into his seat, uncaring of the way it crushes Jeff’s hand against the backrest. “Yeah, we figured,” he says, suddenly exhausted. “Do you know how?”

Jeff’s biting his lip when Steve looks his way. “He didn’t tell me,” he mutters. “But I know my best friend.”

It’s Steve’s turn to reach across the car and clasp Jeff’s shoulder. “I’m sure he has a reason for not telling you,” Steve replies, trying to smile past all that exhaustion.

Jeff snorts. “A stupid one, maybe.”

Steve hums, squeezing once more before dropping his hold on Jeff, suddenly realizing how stupid they must look, leaning toward each other, hands on each other’s shoulders like they’re having some sort of bro moment.

Steve turns back to the front of his car, cranks the engine, and smiles across at Jeff as the other boy takes the hint and drops his own hold. “Want a ride home?”

Instead of answering, Jeff puts on his seatbelt.

Jeff’s house is surprisingly close to Steve’s own. It’s a bit smaller than his, but there’s already a car in the driveway, and the shadows of silhouettes moving behind the pulled curtains, warm yellow light filtering through the fabric and onto the street.

Steve wishes he could go in with a fierce sort of longing that surprises him.

Jeff’s already got his seatbelt off and the passenger door open when he sighs, turning back around and settling back in his seat.

“You should come next week,” he says, all earnest in that way that seems to come so naturally to him and must have gotten him eaten alive in middle school.

“You can’t be serious,” Steve replies. There’s a tension headache growing, exasperated by the incredulous scrunching of his eyebrows. “That was a disaster.”

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad,” Jeff says, but he’s grinning like he’s remembering something funny. Steve’s got a few guesses what.

“Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious, man.” Jeff clasps his shoulder again—maybe that’s just something he does?

Steve scoffs, the roll of his eyes making his head pound. He opens his mouth to retort, something about Eddie’s reaction to Steve sitting beside him, but Jeff beats him to the punch.

“I know Eddie. And that in there?” He points back the way they’d come, like if Steve just strains his eyes, he’ll be able to catch sight of Eddie’s stupid fancy chair, and the stupid musty drama room, and the stupid look on Eddie’s face. “—is him interested.”

Steve closes his mouth, swallowing all the spit in his mouth, hoping it’s not audible to Jeff no matter how quiet the car is. “In me?” he asks, voice cracking embarrassingly.

Jeff doesn’t break eye contact, but his mouth twists uncomfortably. “Like you’re interested in him?” Jeff asks, continuing before Steve can reply. “I don’t know, man.”

Steve droops, the hope blooming in his chest curdling and sinking down into his stomach like old milk. He wants, desperately, to go home, turn out all the lights, and curl up alone in his bed to sleep away the rest of the day. But, Jeff’s still in his car, so he clenches the wheel between his fingers and says, “okay.”

“But, he doesn’t get you,” Jeff continues, voice gentling further. “And that intrigues him.”

Jeff’s still smiling like that should be some sort of boon to Steve’s ego, but it’s not. It lands like a brick. No one ever gets him, and whether he intrigues them or not, it always ends the same: him, alone in his big, empty house, waiting for a phone call that will never come, a doorbell that will never ring, a window that will never be snuck through.

He’d been through it before, with Donna in sixth grade, Nancy in tenth, hell, even Carol and Tommy for more years than he can count.

Intrigue has never gotten him anywhere. But, Jeff’s smiling, small and real, so Steve replies, “thanks, man,” smiling back until the other boy gets out of the car and he can safely drive away.

He’s got a dark house and a chilled bed waiting for him.

For the first time since this whole thing started, Steve writes the first draft of one of his secret admirer letters alone.

PART 9

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic

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red-riot-unbreakable-heart · 9 months ago

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Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Previous Chapter: Part 1 | Next Chapter: Part 3

AO3: Linked Here :)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

Scenes from the afternoon hookup replay in your mind over and over as you sit in the library at a battered old desk in the history section. All you can think about is Shoto’s mouth. And his hands. And his abs!! And his sweet face.

You twiddle your pen in your hand as you try to draft out an essay for class. Unfortunately, every time you try to jot down a few thoughts your mind goes blissfully blank and you remember the tender way he spoke to you.

"How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?"

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.”

“Find me later so we can discuss this.”

You look down at your watch excitedly – 7:55 PM. You eagerly wait for Shoto to appear so the two of you can talk and – with any luck – canoodle amongst the history textbooks. You sit patiently as the time ticks by.

Soon it’s 8:30 PM. You’re not worried, though. Shoto probably assumed you’d want to get some work done first.

9:15 PM rolls around and you start to get worried. You try to distract yourself with school work as doubt creeps into your mind.

10 PM – Shoto still hasn’t showed.

“Shit shit shit.” You check your phone again and again as you wade through the endless wave of homework your teachers have assigned. You keep losing yourself in a math problem or in a passage of your History textbook, only to remember with a jolt that you were expecting to see Shoto and the bastard hasn’t showed.

At 10:30 PM you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s almost past curfew. You pack up your things and prepare to head back to the dorms. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake.

You slide your books into your bag as a anxious thoughts dance through your mind like annoying fruit flies: Does Shoto regret your mid-afternoon hookup? Is he going to pretend it never happened? Did you push him too far? Does he think you’re a slut for stripping off your shirt and basically pressing his face into your naked breasts!? The synapses of your brain jump through dozens of equally horrid and embarrassing scenarios as you march back to your dorm room, blushing furiously with humiliation.

You run through the afternoon’s events in your head for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find a clue as to why Shoto would have left you waiting alone in the library. Your cheeks burn hotter as you recall the gentle way Shoto had kissed your neck before leaning in to capture your lips in one of his first kisses. "How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?" You shiver as you think back to how gentle he was, how each caress felt so loving and intimate.

You shake your head to clear it. Shoto must have a valid excuse for not meeting you in the library as he had promised – no boy could kiss someone that intimately and then instantly cast her aside, right?

Before long, you’re walking through the doors of Class 1A’s dorm building. You shiver with discomfort as you recall how earlier that day you essentially scaled the side of a building for a boy. Does Shoto think you’re an absolute fool with the extremes you went to for a quick make out session? You hope not.

You walk up the stairs and past the common area. You see most of Class 1A studying quietly. Sero, Izuku, Kirishima and Ida sit around one of the kitchen tables reviewing their math homework while some of the girls compare English notes on the couch. To your relief, Shoto isn’t there. Mina waves to you enthusiastically, beckoning you to join her and YaMomo as they review the finer points of Hamlet. You politely decline and make a beeline for your room. You turn the key in the lock and it clicks – within moments, you are blessedly alone.

You toss your heavy book bag to the ground and prepare to wallow in self-pity. It’s 10:56pm and Shoto still hasn’t reached out to you. Your phone is vacant of text messages and your brain is absolutely fried from schoolwork.

You dim your room lights and switch on the favorite fairy lights for some peaceful ambiance. Time for some self-care, bitch! You think resolutely as you swap your uniform for your favorite pair of pajamas. You toss your phone to the floor with abandon and climb into your comfy bed. You breathe in deeply, allowing yourself to revel in the coziness of the dorm room.

You take out your five-minute bullet journal and write a quick list of things you're grateful for: 1. The opportunity to study at UA 2. Your lovely and encouraging friends and classmates 3. Your cozy room and the roof over your head 4. Shoto’s mouth 5. Shoto’s abs 6. Shoto’s goddamn hard AF dick

Um. No.

You snap the journal shut before you get too derailed.

You pull your comforter over your head and sit in silence for a moment. You’ve never been the kind of person to go completely boy-crazy. You always used to make fun of those girls who would go gaga over pretty boys and their texts and their kisses. But as you recall the searing way that Shoto kissed your lips earlier that day, you suddenly understand what all the boy-crazed girly hype was all about. Oh my god. You have a crush. A big sloppy embarrassing crush.

In the silence of your room, you suddenly here a buzzing noise coming from the general direction of your book bag. You struggle to disentangle yourself from your sheets and your journal goes flying. You ignore its crash landing as you slip from your bed and collect your phone from where it lays abandoned on the carpeted floor.

It’s Shoto.

Your heart skips.

Todoroki: Y/N. Are you awake?

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Did Shoto just send you his version of “U up?”

Y/N: Yes, I’m still up.

Todoroki: I know it’s late, but can I stop by?

You tense. Oh God – he’s going to come by to tell you that he’s not interested. He’s going to thank you for your time making out and say that you probably should avoid hooking up in the future because it’s a huge distraction. You’re sure that whatever he has to say is going to be negative and leave you feeling embarrassed. Why else would he have skipped out on your rendezvous in the library?

You take a deep breath. You have always been fairly practical with a mind for strategy, two qualities that had really set you apart when you had taken the UA entrance exams. You know that the best course of action here is to rip off the Band-Aid sooner rather than later. Better to know how he feels about your hookup now

Your heart sinks as you type out:

Y/N: Sure, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just come in. Try not to be seen by anyone.

Todoroki: Of course. See you shortly.

Your heart beats double time as you look down at yourself. Your pajama set consists of a silky blue top with matching shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination. You chew on your thumb nervously – should you change into something more appropriate? No – Shoto has seen your boobs. A little bit of leg is not going to kill the half hot half cold hero in training.

You quickly remake your bed and kick your book bag beneath your desk so that the floor is clear. You plop down on your smooth comforter and wait, knotting your hands together as you anticipate Shoto’s arrival.

A few anxious minutes pass, and then you hear gentle footsteps pad down the hallway outside your door. The knob turns quietly, and in a moment Shoto Todoroki steps across your threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. He reaches down to turn the lock with a gentle snap of his wrist.

You take him in – he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him dressed so casually before and you assume that these are what he wears as pajamas in the privacy of his own dorm room. His hair is tousled and damp from a recent shower, and the burned side of his face shines where he’s clearly applied some kind of scar cream or moisturizer. His outfit projects a comfy air, but his expression is dark and stormy. Your heartbeat quickens in fear – what could possibly have caused him to be in such a tempestuous mood? Was this about your kissing?

You bite at your lip with worry. But when your eyes lock, his expression softens. In two quick strides, he’s at the bed. He leans in close so that your noses almost touch.

“Hi.” He says softly, before dipping his mouth to meet yours. You blink in surprise as your mouths melt together. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the kiss. Pleasure radiates up and down your spine as you kiss him back. He places both his palms on your hips and pulls you closer, letting out a small moan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue into your mouth. How silly you feel for thinking he didn’t want you like this!

After a few moments, you break apart.

“Hey there.” You whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful jaw. He leans in to kiss you again and you hold him in place. He stops and looks down at you inquisitively.

“I waited for you in the library, you didn’t show.” You say slowly, softly.

“My father decided to take me through some drills in one of the school’s gyms. I only finished a half hour ago.” His expression becomes dull as he speaks. “I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I wanted to see you - but I’m not allowed on my phone during training.”

Relief must have flooded your features, because he tilts his head to the side questioningly. You hold back a giggle – the way his head is tilted makes him look like a sweet dog asking its owner for a treat.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh and pull yourself further onto the bed, patting the spot next to you as an invitation. Shoto climbs up next to you, sinking into the deliciously soft fabric. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“This is so comfortable.” He says, pressing his palm into the plush fabric beneath him. You recall his sparse traditional bedroom and realize that he’s never laid on a proper puffy mattress before.

“Hold on – it gets better.” You say pushing him off the bed so you can pull down the covers. You slip beneath the comforter and gesture for him to rejoin you. He climbs in clumsily, unsure how to position himself within the sheets. You prop a pillow beneath his shoulders as he lays down on his side. You toss the comforter over the two of you and lay across from him, feet almost touching beneath the warm layers of bedding.

“Cozy?” You ask as Shoto settles into the bed.

“Yeah.” He says in quiet voice, propping himself up on an elbow. “I always thought beds like this were excessive but…maybe there’s some merit to this.” He eyes a blue Squirtle plush that sits next to you in the bed. “Can I…hold that?”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you reach over to grab the Pokémon plush. “This is Squirtle – he’s one of my favorite plushies.” You hold up the stuffed animal and wiggle it in front of Shoto’s eyes as if it’s dancing. “Squirtle, Squirtle” you say in a low tone, trying to emulate the television character’s voice the best you can.

Shoto gives you a weird look. “I don’t get it. Why are you just repeating its name in a strange voice?”

“Shoto…have you…have never seen Pokémon!?” You almost screech in disbelief, before throwing a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. You quickly remember that you are in the dorms and the walls aren’t super thick.

“No, I wasn’t allowed to watch television unless it was about Pro hero work.” Shoto says, a tinge of sadness flowing along with his words. “But it looks cute and round and I really just want to hold it and squish it?”

“Yeah, that’s the general reaction to plushies. Dude, we need to get you that whale pillow you liked on Pinterest. You need more cuteness in your life.”

“Well I have you, don’t I?” Shoto smiles softly. “You bring more than enough cute into my life.” He reaches out and grabs the plush from your hands and squishes it a bit. “But this is pretty nice, too.”

Your face grows hot at the compliment. Shoto tucks the Squirtle under his arm and shifts around in the sheets until he finds a comfortable position. He looks adorable and soft as he cradles the bright plush in his strong, muscular hands.

When he finally settles in, he looks up at you enquiringly. “What’s wrong?” He repeats, looping you both back to the conversation form earlier.

“So…” You sigh with embarrassment. “When you didn’t show up and I didn’t hear from you…” You pause and Shoto gives Squirtle a squeeze. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again. Or at least that you didn’t want to make out with me again.”

“Oh.” Shoto wasn’t expecting this. “I thought I made it very clear how…enthusiastically…I enjoyed our time together this afternoon. I didn’t realize I had left any room for you to question my attraction to you.”

“That’s nice to hear…but when you didn’t show at the library or send a text, I assumed the worst. My mind kind of went into full-blown panic mode. I thought maybe once you had time to reflect on our hookup, that you realized you didn’t like it or that you didn’t really like me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never felt that way before. Usually something like this wouldn’t bother me.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “But I think I really like you and want to be close to you, and the thought that you might not feel the same was tearing me apart for the last couple of hours.”

The words come tumbling from your mouth before you can stop and think them through. Why are you saying all of this!? Why does being around Shoto make you feel so comfortable and open to sharing? It’s so weird – and you’re absolutely sure he’s going to think you’re some kind of over sharing freak for telling him all of this.

Shoto looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment before speaking. “Something I have always admired about you is your ability to be straightforward about what you’re thinking and feeling. Most people aren’t like that, and I have a hard time navigating more subtle situations. Thank you for telling me exactly what you’re thinking – I value it so much.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, moving the bangs out of his bright eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I had abandoned you. I wanted to come to the library so badly. I want to kiss you so badly – it’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Let me match your honesty with some of my own - my father is extremely strict. Ever since I was born, he’s pushed me to be better. To be stronger. He wants me to surpass him. He wants me to take All Might’s place as the number one hero.”

You gasp at this. Of course you knew that Todoroki was ambitious, but this…

“I don’t have any intentions of becoming harsh and cruel like my father. I’m not even sure if I want to go for the top spot on the hero charts.” He admits, almost bitterly. “That’s the path that my father has laid out for me. He’s obsessed with my training. With my ‘potential.’ But he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about how I feel. Excuse my language.” Shoto looks so sad, so despairing. He hugs the plush close, his chin tucked into his chest as he continues.

“I just want to help people and make them smile – just like All Might. But my old man just doesn’t seem to get that. Today, when he noticed how distracted I was… he didn’t ask if something was wrong. He just pushed me even harder.” Shoto avoids your gaze. “I think he purposefully pushed me to train into the night to keep me from meeting up with you. In his eyes…you’re a huge distraction for his prized creation.”

Suddenly you notice how exhausted Shoto looks – there are pale bags beneath his eyes. You scan his body and see light bruises beginning to form on the exposed skin of his arms. You wonder - just what kind of training has Endeavor been subjecting him to?

You had never guessed that behind Shoto’s calm and collected exterior, there is just a normal teenage boy trying desperately to please his father, while simultaneously trying to defy him. The whole relationship seems complicated and messy and you’re sure what Shoto is telling you is only the tip of a chaotic Todoroki family dynamic iceberg.

“Oh, Shoto.” You say softly. You scoot forward and wrap your arms around him. He freezes, unsure of what to do but nevertheless comforted by the sudden closeness. You reach behind him and card your fingers through his hair. You see goose bumps emerge across his skin, and realize that he likely hasn’t been touched this way before.

“Is it okay to touch you like this?” You whisper.

He breathes out a shaky “yes” as he moves to toss the Squirtle plush to the floor. Once his arms are free, he works to wrap them around you. He rests one strong hand on your back and slings the other around your delicate waist. He draws you close to him and holds you tightly as you continue to run your fingers softly through his two-toned hair.

He’s silent as he buries his head into your shoulder. There’s an emotion that’s radiating off of his body that you can’t quite place – sadness? Frustration? Maybe even relief? After a few moments of running your fingers through his hair and gently up and down his back, he finally starts to relax. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen, and he seems to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers, muffled as he turns his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not great at expressing my emotions. I can try to put it into words…I’m feeling so weighed down right now.”

“Because of your father’s expectations?” You prompt, running a light fingertip down his spine. He shivers a bit in response, but not in an unpleasant way.

“Sometimes I wonder if he sees me as a real person, as a son. Or am I just his big project?” Shoto wonders aloud, his voice a bit strained. You feel his eyelashes flutter against the sensitive skin beneath your jawline.

“Shoto...that sounds like a lot to carry. You’re just a high school student – your father shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on you. It’s not normal.” You tuck a lock of red hair behind his porcelain ear. “This situation sounds so complicated. It’s no wonder you feel so conflicted. I’m here any time you need a friendly ear to listen as you work through it.” You continue to caress him softly over his clothes. He begins to lean into your touch hungrily. “But right now – at this moment – you’re safe. In this room, in my arms, you don’t need to hold other people’s expectations of you in your heart. When you’re with me, I want you to feel that you can just be Shoto.”

You still your fingers as you let your words sink in. Shoto is radiating a deep sort of sadness that you wish you could smooth away with your fingertips.

“Thank you.” He says, his voice breaking a tiny bit as he processes your words. After a few beats Shoto exhales deeply, his breath ruffles your hair. “I’m not used to talking about these things. Actually, I’m not really used to talking much at all. Or being touched.” You can feel the blush on his delicate cheeks warm the skin of your neck.

“I can tell.” You say before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he chuckles.

“I don’t know why it’s so easy to do these things with you – talking, touching…kissing.” He lifts his head off of your shoulder to look you square in the face. “There’s something about you…”

Suddenly, the room feels as if it’s charged with Denki’s electrification quirk as his bright mismatched eyes meet your own.

“I think I’d like to continue exploring this with you.” He says matter-of-factly, moving his legs to intertwine with yours.

“W-what does that mean?” Your breath catches in your throat as he dips forward to kiss down your neck.

“It means…I want to keep doing this. Kissing. Talking. I suppose I want to keep getting to know you like this? Intimately.” He places a soft kiss in the hollow behind your earlobe. “Would you like that as well?”

“Yes.” You breathe, with zero hesitation. He smiles into your neck before running the edges of his teeth lightly across your smooth skin. You let out a soft moan in response.

“Good. Then we’ll figure this out together.” He moves to kiss your cheek soundly before releasing you from his embrace. “But right now it’s well past midnight, and we both need our sleep if we’re going to continue to be top of our class alongside YaMomo and Ida. If we both let our grades slip, it might tip people off.” He moves to get off the bed.

“Hey – wait!” You grab his arm and pull him back under the covers. “I have no problem with you staying here for the night.”

“But wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Shoto’s face reddens, but he lets himself be drawn back into your gentle embrace.

“Would it be anymore inappropriate than you making out with my tits?” Shoto’s face burns an even brighter red at this question, but he also looks quite pleased with himself (you assume he’s recalling the way he kissed down your breasts earlier that day as he smirks). “Sharing a bed should be perfectly responsible as long as we keep all of our clothes on. You said you want to explore? Well get over here and let’s figure out if you make a good big spoon.”

This earns one of those rare full smiles from Shoto – he practically glows. “Alright.”

He pulls himself close to you. You reach above your head and switch off the string lights that wind their way around your room, and the tiny dorm fills with darkness.

You turn to face the wall and scoot your body back until you feel Shoto’s solid warmth. He reaches around to pull you close until bodies are touching, flush together. You tuck yourself into Shoto’s warm, muscular body and sigh with contentment.

“So do I make a good big spoon?” He questions, tentatively nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, your hair smells like lavender.”

“We’ll need plenty of practice to truly ascertain the full range of your spooning abilities.” You say in a faux-academic voice, causing him to snort out a laugh. “But so far you’re doing great.”

You interlock your legs and pull his strong arms around you. You wiggle a bit as you try to find the comfiest spot in the mattress. You unintentionally grind a bit against Shoto and jolt when you feel something hard pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Sorry.” He mutters softly, embarrassed.

“Maybe I’ll take care of that for you tomorrow.” You yawn as you close your eyes and settle in for a good night’s rest. You grin into the darkness as you feel Shoto’s dick get even harder as he mulls over your response, wondering at what you could possibly mean by “take care of that.”

You didn’t realize you were so tired. You’re dimly aware of Shoto’s breathing growing slow as he drifts off into a comfortable sleep. You smile softly to yourself as you slide further into his embrace. This poor, touch-starved boy has been through so many terrible things and your heart aches for him.

Even in sleep he’s tense, his jawline stiff and his muscles almost locked around you. But he’s warm and soft and smells like jasmine and mint tea. You hope that for the next few hours you can provide him with a safe harbor to rest and escape his troubles. You let your eyes flutter close and breathe in deeply, dreaming of Shoto’s sweet face as you fall gently into sleep’s embrace.

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Part 3

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