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#thought about it even more and its a good thing elementary school Whisper was too young to get that scholarship
1dont-really-know · 1 month
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Now that I really think about it, maybe my goals of getting that scholarship isn't ambition, but the need for reaffirmation that I am still as worthy of my parents' pride as I was back in elementary school.
I mean, elementary school Whisper got second place in the national science Olympiad and could answer math problems 3 grades above her own. Elementary school Whisper got gifts every semester for getting the best grades in her class every semester. Elementary school Whisper had endless possibilities ahead of her.
And then there's me.
Elementary school Whisper could have very easily gotten that scholarship.
I, on the other hand, have to work to the point of getting nosebleeds just for a chance to do the same.
Then again elementary school Whisper didn't have any friends at all so at least I'm better than her in that aspect lmao
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bpsmuts · 1 year
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Truth or Dare - Rose [PART 1]
Rose x Male Reader
Words: 1.036
Summary: Your Childhood friend Rose and you spent the night at her place and decide to play truth or dare...
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"Come on, be a little more daring!" Rose yells at you after you've picked truth for the 3rd time in a row. "Fine. Dare" you give in. "Finally, I thought I was gonna be stuck asking about your boring sex life all night" Rose replied.
Using her opportunity she finds a good dare. "I dare you to kiss me!" she says. "On the mouth" she adds before you could protest. "Really Rose? I've known you since Elementary School" You try to protest without luck.
"You've also seen me in underwear a dozen times, hell I've changed in front of you... and you're scared to kiss me?" Rose mocks you. "Yeah but that's different" You try to protest once more. "Okay fine, if you don't wanna do it its fine... didn't take you for such a chicken" Rose teases again.
You typically didn't let stuff like that get to you, especially if it came from Rose, but at that point you knew you had to prove her wrong. You stood up so fast that you practically leaped onto her, making her fall over, before planting your lips on hers for a full 10 seconds.
"Am I still a chicken now?" You ask as you move off Rosie and both of you sit back up. "No, but I hope this isn't the furthest you'll go"- You knew Rose was just saying these things to get into your head and you knew that it was also working perfectly, but you didn't care, you wanted to prove yourself to her.
"Okay your turn!" Rose tells you in her cute New Zealand accent. "Truth or Dare Rosie?" you ask her. "Unlike you, I'm not a pussy... Dare!". "I dare you to touch your boobs for 1 full round" You say confidently. "Touch my boobs? Seriously? I'd do that if you ask nicely, give me a real dare Y/N" Rose shatters your idea.
"A real dare?" You ask surprised. "Okay, I dare you to... uhh.. let me take off your panties and keep them!". "See now that's a proper dare" Rose happily replies as she gets up from the floor.
You slip your arms underneath her skirt and slowly pull down a pair of red lacy panties. "Red huh?" you ask her intrigued. "Had to match the skirt Mr. I have no idea how fashion works" Rose responds mockingly.
"Dare!" You tell Rose, before she could even ask you. "I dare you to kiss my lips" Rosie responds with a smile on her face. "Again?" you ask while moving closer to her face. As your lips are about to reach hers Rosie however intervenes "Stop! Not those lips" Rose tells you with your lips just inches away.
You freeze and think for a second before Rose whispers "My Vagina" She slides back "You want me to kiss your vag-..." you abruptly end your sentence as you've already been picked on too many times by her this evening and instead comply and move towards her crotch.
"And Y/N, French Kiss please!" Rose adds as she opens her legs, revealing her slightly wet pussy to you. You've never seen it before, even though Rosie has changed in front of you a couple times... You've just never been interested in her the way you are now.
As you get closer to her core, you can feel the warmth radiating from her and you even pick up a sweet smell coming from her folds directly.
Right as you are about to start your dare, you realize that this is the time, you can prove Rose wrong once and for all. She's teased you for so long, calling you a chicken and even though it was just friendly banter, you wanted to show her your other side.
You start by kissing her inner thighs, to bait out a witty comment from her, which worked perfectly. "You know that isn't my vaginAaahh" Rose can't fully finish since she felt your warm tongue hitting her clit right as she finished her sentence.
You grab her by the hips and start making circular motions around her clit with your tongue, making Rose moan loudly for you. "AAahh Y/N, you were supposed to kiss it!" She moans, but you're not stopping.
You've made it your mission to show her how wrong she was about you. Your tongue briefly moves to her opening, getting it wet, before returning to her clit and your right index finger teasing her hole.
After teasing her hole, you slowly push in your index finger, making her squeal. As you look up, you can see that Rose has started to support her upper body with her hands and her head hanging back all the way as you continue to pleasure her.
"Oh god Y/N. P-Please add another one" Rose stutters in between her moans. Her wish being your command, you quickly pull out, lick your index and middle fingers until they're nice and wet, before slowly inserting them back into her pussy.
"A little further d-down, y-y-yeah a tiny bit lower" Rose guided you towards her g-spot. Hitting hit resulted in loud screams of pleasure from her. "AAAAHHH FUCK, RIGHT THERE Y/N!!".
You continued with the same pace and it didn't take long for Rose to get close to her orgasm. "Y/N.. Y/N I'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me cum Y/N. Oh my god, this feels so good." Rose's moans get louder and louder as she reaches her climax.
You can feel her legs shake as her upper body falls onto the ground, her arms not being able to support her anymore. You let her ride out the orgasm, removing your fingers, but gently licking her pussy.
"Oh my god that was good Y/N" Rose stammers, while she drags herself to her bed for support.
"Well.. I dare you to return the favor" you tell her with a massive smile on your face.
"Is it okay if I return the favor tomorrow morning?" Rose asks sheepishly, still shaking a little. "I don't think I have any energy left in me after what just happened."
"Sure, but I want a little extra for the delay" You answer with a smirk.
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dappledstars · 1 year
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IN THE SOUND OF THE DRUMS ! ✧ — wanderer and xiao x gn!reader ; lion dance troupe au !!
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WANDERER
he was never picky with his partners. in a lion dance, he knew that both of those donning the costume needed a perfect rhythm and balance. a mutual understanding and appreciation. he didn’t see the need for a friendship with the one who shared the lion.
that is, until you came. at first, he saw you as a tryhard — always upbeat and enthusiastic, following and executing his instructions perfectly. he’d just scoff and reply with a begrudging ‘good job’. he didn’t know you well, and it wasn’t like he wanted to, right?
the question came out on impulse: “why do you dance?”
and you replied. it wasn’t out of trying to impress him that you worked hard, but simply because it was your passion. he had never met someone with such a… fire inside of them. he couldn’t believe that a simple performance you watched in elementary school would lead to you joining the troupe. he was… impressed. not like he was ever going to admit it, though.
practices passed and continued. he found himself slowly getting more attached to you, asking you other things about yourself. no, of course he wasn’t curious. he was trying to build a mutual understanding. you’d answer all his questions, no matter how weird they were. in return, he answered your questions too.
the costume was painstakingly hot. your nerves didn’t help either, instead making you sweat even more. your role was easier, as the person in the back. basically all you had to do was mirror the wanderer’s movements and twerk your tail. you remembered laughing when he mentioned that, only to realise he was extremely serious.
“ready?” the wanderer’s voice came out in something just above a whisper. you nodded, even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “hold on.” he reminded.
you placed your hands on his waist firmly. perhaps you were beginning to hallucinate, but did he tense against your touch? whatever it was, it disappeared in a millisecond. you waved those thoughts away. now was the time to focus.
welcoming applause echoed from all sides as the two of you stepped out onto the stage. you couldn’t see — thus, needing to depend and trust the wanderer completely. you did, and so did he.
the drums began, a symbol of the lion’s heartbeat. you found your own beating in tandem with every thump. the cymbals followed; the lion’s thoughts, your cue. and right on time, the wanderer jumps.
you start performing the moves, synchronizing with the wanderer as if you were one being. the crowd cheers and claps, and you feel a sense of happiness and joy that you've never felt before. this was it, wasn’t it? that same feeling you felt during that one performance. you broke into a wide grin.
as the music reaches its climax, the drums banging with all their might, you both leap into the air, landing gracefully as one. the crowd's screams reach a fevered pitch, and you can feel the energy zapping through the air like electric waves.
you breathe heavily, your heart racing with adrenaline as you take a bow. you almost miss the wanderer’s quiet ‘you were amazing’ amongst the erratic applause of the audience. but you heard it anyways. he turned to you with a smile as you paraded the lion backstage, a genuine one. you liked it. it made his eyes sparkle and your heart skip a beat.
and this time, he didn’t turn away.
“you did great, (name).”
“couldn’t have done it without an amazing partner like you.” you grin, your hands moving from his waist to his shoulder. “you’re the best.”
any other time he would have turned away from you with an eyeroll or scoff, saying that he was just doing what anyone else would. but this time he countered you with a grin of his own.
“you know… i think i like the way you call me partner.”
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XIAO
playing the suona drums meant a lot of things to xiao. his heartbeat synchronised with every thump he hit upon its surface. it helped to hone his feelings into one, just like the force and energy in the lion dance. through his craft, he could find peace even in the rowdiest cymbal playing and applause. it was the only thing able to calm him. or so he thought.
why was his heart starting to deviate from its usual rhythm when you joined his troupe? at first, he saw you as a distraction, regarding your incessant and curious questions as foolish and irritating. you didn’t stop, no matter what he did. it made him frustrated, yet at the same time, intrigued.
he watched you dance, moving with such precision, passion and power in every single jump. his hitting of the drum never changed, but his heartbeat followed your rhythm. a beat every time your feet left or touched the ground.
you never gave up on getting him to open up, and he was glad for that. xiao didn’t think he could bear seeing your retreating back, and leaving him forever. so when you asked, he answered.
you had to be the nicest person he knew — buying drinks and snacks for everyone, and memorising their likes and answers to your weirdly charismatic questions. sure, you did the same for everyone, but you always came to him first. surely that meant something, right?
xiao caught the soda you had tossed him deftly. once you walked within earshot, he muttered a word of thanks. you flashed him a smile and passed him a small styrofoam package.
“you said you liked it and the food court had a one-day promotion, so i decided to get it for you!” you explained cheerfully. he eyed the package skeptically before opening it with a small ‘snap’. he smelt it before he actually saw what it was.
“you got me… almond tofu?” full of golden blocks of creamy deliciousness, topped with chopped almonds. the scent of the brown sugar syrup was enough to make xiao smile. “you remembered. thank you, (name).”
you returned the smile. “of course! play your loudest for me today, will you?”
xiao nodded, a soft smile still present on his lips, a stark contrast to his usual stoic nature. maybe you should get him almond tofu more often. “i will.”
after you waved goodbye and headed off, xiao watched you leave. his eyes were on your feet moving across the backstage floor. tap, tap, tap. he found his heart following your rhythm.
cymbals crashed around him. it would’ve made anyone else’s ears ring for the rest of the day, but not xiao. his hands were clenched firmly around the sticks as he beat the drums just like he always did. his face remained indifferent, not a single smile curving on his lips. yet his eyes weren’t on the crowd, but on you.
he watched as you owned the performance, moving just like an actual lion would. every jump, every twist, every shake, every single action you made captivated him. you told him to play his hardest, and he did, pouring his soul into what he drummed.
and as the troupe took a bow, he realised that he should stop denying the truth that stood in front of him, clad in a costume and holding up a lion head.
you headed over to him backstage, still donning your costume though your partner was already chatting with the cymbalists, costume off. he had to peek his head through the lion’s mouth to see you. you gave him a cheeky grin. “how’d i do?”
“amazing as always.” he breathed. in this close proximity, he didn’t dare raise his voice. his heart raced.
“thank you! i heard you playing louder than usual.” you noticed that? what a keen eye you had.
he smiled. “i kept my promise… and (name)?”
this was a perfect moment, wasn’t it? he tried to calm his racing heart.
“yes?”
“i think… you have my heart.”
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mvrrow · 1 year
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;; EDEN SHEPHERD — AS TOLD.
[ laura harrier, cis woman, she/her ] - was that eden shepherd i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the thirty one year old who has been in nightrest for on and off throughout her life and works as the owner of ada's antiques has a reputation of being softhearted, but also evasive. they reside in ashmore & people in town usually associate them with collapsing beneath the sun; the rays of light dancing off your damp skin, wild honey with its tendency to stick to everything it touches, and handmade quilts sewn together by bittersweet nostalgia. let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next. [ james, 24, they/them, est, n/a ]
MENTIONS OF MEDICAL CONDITIONS (ASTHMA), CHILDHOOD ILLNESS, INFERTILITY, A BRIEF PANIC ATTACK, AND A BRIEF FAMILIAL DEATH BEYOND THIS POINT.
profile.
full name: eden beatrice shepherd.
birthday: september 4th, 1991.
astrology: virgo sun, cancer moon, sagittarius ascending.
sexuality: bisexual.
currently listening to: simulation swarm by big thief.
current mood: afraid 😱
current location: [[[cannot be found]]]
last tweet: ...im pretty sure i just found a box of vintage sex toys in the basement. thanks grandma! #scarred
PINTEREST.
history.
grows up in a tiny commune off asbury grove, surrounded by nothing but woods; it's her mother, her father, and their entire gaggle of children. eden's not the first, nor would she be the last.
it's a good community - holistic, and the kids are homeschooled - but it's a good community. tightknit, everyone helps everyone and nobody is left abandoned. eden spends her days learning about the life cycle of insects and birds, what it means to die; the lifespan of trees and the evils of deforestation.
MEDICAL CONDITION / CHILDHOOD ILLNESS; eden's first asthma attack is sudden and sharp; a breathlessness she's never felt before, a new fear fresh in her six year old body. the body remembers its trauma - and even now, she can still feel that ache from her first attack. it's a downwards, upwards, and all around sideways spiral after then - combined with a weak immune system, she's quick to sicken. pneumonia and bronchitis, as soon as the flowers bloom.
the commune is great, and it's her home - but they can't provide the help she needs, not anymore; her grandmother, ada, takes her in - only for summers at first, just so she can get the treatment she needs at the local hospital, still near family.
she falls in love with nightrest quickly - has never seen the beach before then, doesn't know the joys yet of crystal clear waters - can only admire how the ocean stretches beyond the horizon. she loves her grandmother too - she's her favorite, after all - and they spend almost all their time together, manning ada's antique shop. ada teaches eden to knit, to sew - how to put a nail through wood, the sweet taste of their fruits of labor. how to be independent, how to be reliable. how to live.
her childhood and teenhood is split between the commune and nightrest; split between two worlds, but after spending summer after summer in the small town - eden and her grandmother send in a scholarship application for wardwell. she's always excelled in school - their homeschooling regime surprisingly strict, more advanced than she would've been otherwise - but it's still a surprise when eden's actually accepted into the private institute.
her courses aren't as hard as she thought they'd be, much less a worry than the student population; whispers of her being the weird commune girl - the girl who walks the town barefoot, middle of the night - nightgown blowing against the wind. she's a witch, they whisper. schoolyard taunts making up for years of missed elementary teasing. eden never pays them much mind - head always held high, eyes always cast down upon those who look at her the wrong way.
the one thing eden finds, is that attention finds her. whether it's curious interest or purposeful distaste, or a deeper temptation - she entertains it, bathes in it; her reputation goes from witch to whore, and all she does is smile.
high school comes and goes, and so do all the rumors - their weight heavy on her shoulders towards the latter years; but university is different. after consoling her grandmother, then her parents, then half the commune - insisting her health is in perfect condition - eden packs up and heads to boston university.
she majors in bioengineering - it's an umbrella of all the things she cares about; healthcare, and agriculture - energy and sustainability. gets through all four years and half of her masters program before meeting the love of her life.
andrew dyers puts all her worries at ease with just the sound of his voice. his peace is hers; he's her voice of reason, when her thoughts scatter her. she puts her masters degree on pause, just to travel the world with him. leaves everything she's ever known, because all she wants is to be by his side. it's scary - eden's asthma's improved little by little throughout the years, and she doesn't get as sick nearly as often - but he's always stood by her. even during their fights - storming off in the middle of european cities, cold shoulders and silent treatments - he's never left her side.
when he proposes - it's the happiest eden's ever been. marriage was once a distant thought - and now she's trying on wedding dresses, tasting cakes - picking out her perfect venue, all the way in greece.
INFERTILITY; it's partially a routine visit, and partially eden preparing for their future together in advance - when she finds out the news. she can't have children - at least not of her own, not from her. not with drew. and her world collapses before her, her dreams and pinterest boards crumbling down.
she keeps the news from drew - doesn't want to confront it, doesn't want to think of it - she knows that he'd still love her, still want to be with her; but her mind's a jumble of thoughts - there's too much to plan, and the back of her mind starts voicing doubts.
PANIC ATTACK / ASTHMA; the day of the wedding is the culmination of her every doubt, her every fear - she has a panic attack for the first time in her life, triggers her asthma - is practically glued to her inhaler. everything is too much for her, the future suddenly so unclear - her worries finally shattering her. and she runs. she abandons her wedding - abandons drew - and gets on the nearest flight back to massachusetts.
her grandmother welcomes her back with open arms - listens to her, cries with her - and nightrest is where eden stays. it's coincidental, but ada's health's declining and it's the perfect time for eden to stay around the house, to care for her. it's also her excuse, in a way - as awful as it feels.
FAMILIAL DEATH; that was almost two years ago; with ada's recent passing, eden inherits not only her grandmother's antique business, but her house as well - a given, considering ada's business was out of her home.
suddenly a business & homeowner - eden's been busy managing ada's financial affairs, fixing her books - refurbishing and restoring her victorian home in all its glory. it's not the life eden had expected - or particularly wanted, at first. but she feels happier now, compared to when she first ran away.
traits.
ASTHMA; first thing's first she's an asthma girlie<3 has that inhaler ON HER at all times. her asthma attacks aren't that often or as bad anymore bt u never know. she's kind of scared of them #scarredforlife
rly kind n will go out of her way to help others whether it's with tasks or with advice or literally. anything. is the type to cook u chicken soup if u say u have a sneeze.
at the same time though she's pretty closed off when it comes to her own personal problems or Deep Feelings. a little repressed.
it's a mix of being overlooked by her parents as a middle kid, sometimes - to being fussed over too much, when she was sick. to being talked about in high school, and just plain being stubborn.
personable when it comes to others like she knows ur favorite color, ur big three zodiacs, and what u did last summer.
DIY queen she does everything herself because why spend money when u can do it urself. does not stop
her grandmother's house-slash-antique shop is like a very old victorian that her grandmother snagged right when the family moved to nightrest. it's her family home before her dad joined the commune w her mom so there's a lot of history there n it makes eden feel. comforted idk
the ground floor is pretty much just all antique shit. almost a hoarder's situation to the point where eden's been going through pieces and seeing what's even valuable / worth selling. the only semi-cleared space is the kitchen n bathroom but otherwise eden stays upstairs.
she has a doberman named daisy mae because when murders first started happening in the town eden said<3 absolutely not. n got herself a guard dog. she's trained her very well n she's very proud of it.
also a little bit emotional support bc eden is like. a bit all over the place. a little highstrung, at times, i'd say.
she hides it very well bc she makes lists and pinterest boards n has a Need to Plan everything to the T but when things stop going her way or she feels like she's losing control she like unravels a bit into a mess of anxiety. #anxiousqueen
is a bit. broke admittedly. ran through her savings when taking care of her grandmother n is just hoping that the business will be enough to get her by. if needed she can fall back on her degree but her passion's a bit. misplaced atm
bet ur ass she kept every single piece of designer that drew bought her throughout their relationship. she feels immense guilt about the entire runaway bride thing but these items r sentimental ok. they're kinda comforting. even though eden's in the wrong. let her be delulu.
has not been in a committed relationship since drew. he was her only serious one tbh. big fan of hookups n the concept of friends w benefits, even moreso one night stands. nobody is allowed to sleep in the same bed as her, she'll probably sneak out when they're asleep if its not at her place.
definitely a bit of an overthinker. she has to analyze everything.
will be honest with u. will try to be nice about it, without sugar-coating it. will speak her thoughts if she has to.
holds a grudge like a motherfucker. she's hard to anger, and already has too much patience for others - but when u get on her bad side, ur there for life. queen of passive aggressive comments and never letting it go. will bring it up in conversation n acknowledgement will not satiate her.
has mastered the silent treatment. she goes so silent when she's upset n thats how u know u've fucked up.
i think thats all! truthfully idk if any of this will be true when i actually write her so!<3
relationships.
childhood friends, from when she spent her summers in nightrest to when she moved for school. people who've known her since high school.
consistent friends who've been by her side for years n have supported her on the sidelines
people who were like wtf? when she just ran away from her wedding bc that probably got her on some shit lists even if they didn't know drew personally. bc eden definitely didn't tell anyone why.
enemies<3 moreso from when they were younger probably but like i said. eden holds a grudge of a lifetime. she'll be like i know u called me a whore in 11th grade because ur boyfriend liked staring at my tits more than looking at even just ur face. n thats not my problem i hope u got the help u needed. sounds like it was traumatic.
hookups obv. one night stands n friends w benefits n people who like get that she doesn't need anything serious rn and never has.
unrequited crushes mostly on her but sometimes<3 her heart does things<3 n she is susceptible to a pretty face on occasion.
please let her be the unofficial aunt to ur muses' children she loves kids so much n gets along w them so well
college friends!! people who knew her as this like <3 passionate science nerd n is just like ? this isnt bioengineering ? standing in her shop
shop patrons <3 please fund eden's life. the store is nice i promise. just a little old.
neighbors i love a civil small talk that isnt about murder. people who've known ada growing up themselves n have their own funny little stories abt ada bc she was a bit like<3 eccentric i think.
but also actually a close friend group wld be nice? like a best friend or somebody she can tell her secrets to <3 give me like the one person who knows she's infertile. let her traumadump!!!
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lene-loki · 2 years
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Hi it's me again I would like to request a matt fic where say Karen or Marci (love them both) makes a comment on how reader talks to much and then the reader is quiet for a good few days , then Matty boy comes to the rescue to make reader feel better
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( •_•)
/>❤️
Aww 🥺 I'm here for all the angsty Matt Fics! This turned out waaaaay longer than I intended 😅 It isn't completely proofread yet, I hope that's okay. Excuse any mistakes ❤️ And I know the saying goes "You wear your heart on your sleeve" but in my language we say "tongue" instead of sleeve and I went with that! 😊
I hope you'll like it! ❤️
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Female!Reader
Words: 3,5k
Warnings: slight angst, one swear word, fluffy Matt 🥺
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Talk too much
It wasn't a secret that you wore your heart on your tongue.
Whereever you were or whatever you did, you shared your thoughts and stories from your life with anyone around you.
It never came to your mind that you were talking like a waterfall and that it could annoy people, because you were in your element when you spoke about something funny that happened to you the other day or just spread your goofiness amongst your friends.
Matt never had a problem with you talking too much.
He loved listening to your voice. He loved to hear about the silly things your life always seemed to have in store for you. It made working so much more bearable to him.
Right now he sat at his desk, his finger levitating over the Braille letters on a document he needed to read, but he couldn't concentrate on it. With a big smile on his face, he kept on listening to your ramblings although it only distracted him.
"Mrs Laney once said..." You continued your story of your childhood neighbour that you used to visit regularly. "That my mouth can't close around such a big heart and that's why I always say what I'm feeling and thinking." You giggled.
Matt had to chime in because it fit perfectly to you. He too could imagine that the heart you wore on your tongue was too big to let you shut your mouth - and he didn't wanted you to.
"You know, a classmate of mine in elementary school had a blind sister." You suddenly talked about a different story.
Matt was used to it that when you were in a talking frenzy, you would jump from subject to subject like a bee would fly from flower to flower. "Really?" He asked you interested.
"Yes! I met her once and she was totally different from you!" You said, leaning yourself onto your elbows on his desk. You were sitting opposite of him, watched him working while he kept on smiling about what you had to say.
It also wasn't a secret that you had a huge crush on Matt.
Sometimes you thanked the god's that he wasn't able to see just how red your cheeks turned and how sweaty your forehead became whenever he was around. You even talked more than usual to him because of the tickling of the butterflies inside of your belly. As if it was possible that you could speak even more words than you did already!
"How do you mean that she was different from me?" He askes curiously. "She was really scared." You whispered. "She didn't wanted to be treated like a normal person. She always walked around like she was made of porcelaine."
Matt growled thoughtful.
"Not everyone handles it the way I do." He said and you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip. "That's what I like about you. You could never talk to her, she shut everyone out - but you are reachable."
Your cheeks glowed. Unbeknownst to you, Matt could feel the heat radiating from you and how the temperature in the room suddenly increased slightly.
"But while we're on the subject; have you tried this new Italian restaurant close to the Bulletin's office?"
Matt snickered as you did it again. You just jumped onto another subject even though that didn't have anything to do with what you were talking about before. Like a bee losing its concentration because it saw another, maybe prettier flower on the meadow that it wanted to give its attention to.
Sometimes when you weren't around he would even nickname you Bee. He once did it accidentally in front of Foggy and he couldn't stop grinning since. The softhearted lawyer that he was, knew about your feelings for Matt and wished nothing more than for the two of you to be happy together - something you didn't know about.
Well, you knew that Foggy knew about your crush but not that he dreamed just as much as you did about being together with Matt.
"No, I haven't actually." And then he said it: "We could try it together some time." He smiled and you felt your heart jump.
You actually were speechless after his suggestion.
Was he asking you out? Were you misinterpreting something into his words?
The longer you looked at him, the more your heart felt like it wanted to free itself out of your chest and jump right into Matt's hands - were it would be safe and happy forever.
"You are so quiet." He noted, showing you his teeth while smiling so brightly.
"Yes! Yes, I would love to!" You maybe said a bit too loud and too enthusiastically. He laughed, his heart beating at least as fast as yours did. Even though no one said the word date, your mind started to float around fantasy scenarios in your head, where you two were romantically dining in the candlelight with you wearing your most beautiful dress and you almost sighed intoxicated from all the adoration and love you felt.
You were still all giggly and jittery when you left the office with Matt, Foggy and Karen that evening.
Foggy and Karen couldn't hold back their laughs at your excitement that you were unable to contain. Your happy mood was contagious and so they decided to hold onto the evening for a little whiler longer and went together to Josie's instead of calling it a night.
You were all having fun, laughing, sharing funny stories and drinking. Except you only drank one beer since you already acted drunk!
And the truth was, you didn't needed alcohol to lift your mood. You always seemed to be in the clouds.
After an hour, Foggy asked blushing for permission to invite Marci as well to the bar. It was clear that the redness didn't come from the alcohol alone.
When Marci arrived, she immediately ordered a drink before coming to your table. "What are you all having with this trash bag?" She asked uncomprehending, pointing around the bar.
"Josie loves us." Foggy shrugged, not knowing that Josie had heard him at the table behind us and she didn't agree with Foggy's statement at all.
After a while of chattering, laughing and more drinking, you started to notice the look on Marci's face whenever you started talking - which was almost the entire time.
You tried not to pay too much attention on the woman while you continued to tell the four about that one christmas even when you were seven years old and caught your brother in the middle of the night already hunched over the presents underneath the christmas tree. "Well, I am the little one so why should I have been the responisble one?" You grinned cheeky while everyone laughed. Except for Marci. "So I joined him and we opened our presents in the night before christmas morning at almost four am. My parents found us in the morning asleep on the floor with wrapping paper all over us!" You finished your story, earning another chuckle from Matt who sat beside you.
You took another sip of your water and excused yourself from the table to go to the bathroom - mainly because you needed to cool your face down somehow. Sitting so close to Matt did more to your body than you ever expected you could feel.
"Oh, I'll accompany you." Marci smiled, standing up.
You didn't think much of it as she followed you to the restroom. While you were splashing a few droplets of cold water onto your burning face, Marci disappeared into one of the stalls. It was when you shut the water off, that she suddenly began to speak from behind the small door.
"Don't take it personally, okay? But you are really talking a lot." She emphasized her last word and you could hear the annoyance in her voice.
You forced yourself to chuckle nervously because of course you took it personally. "What do you mean?" You asked.
You knew that you loved to talk but no one ever seemed to be annoyed. "You just talk a lot of shit that no one cares about. We are just trying to enjoy our evening and don't want to hear family stories from you." You heard the flushing of the toilet while you had to swallow hard. Her words somehow felt like you got punched in the gut and you had to fight against the familiar prickle of tears behind your eyelids.
They didn't care?
That was all what you thought about until she stepped beside you at the sink. She showed you a smile, not being aware of how much her words were hurting you. She held her hands under the stream of water and whispered: "Just try to talk a little less."
She said it as if it was a kindly advice from friend to friend but it sure didn't feel like it. You just nodded, unable to speak because you knew your voice would break. After Marci dried her hands with a few paper towels, she went back without looking at you again.
All alone in the bathroom, you allowed yourself to a shed a few tears and to sniffle. You tried to get yourself together as fast as possible - surpressing the urge to sob. With reasonable dry eyes, you returned to your friend group as well. You couldn't focus on their conversations, you were too distracted by what Marci had told you in the bathroom. You couldn't help but to wonder if they really didn't care about what you had to say.
After a minute longer, you decided to call it a night.
While you were saying your goodbyes, you didn't sound as cheerful as before and everyone seemed to notice. Matt sensed that something upset you and it made him sad to think that something or someone managed to erase your inner light and he could feel himself getting pulled under the shadow by your sudden darkness.
Nonetheless he let you go home, although he began feeling as hurt as you seemed to be. As if your souls were intertwined.
The next day, Matt couldn't concentrate on his papers - but unlike the other times when you were talking, the deafening silence distracted him. He could feel you in his office, how you stapled away documents he didn't need any longer.
Usually you would tell him the tiniest details about your morning and what you had for breakfast - but since you arrived you hadn't spoken a single word to neither of your colleagues. Worrying Matt to no end.
"(Y/N), is everything alright? You've been really quite today." Matt spoke softly, while removing his fingers from the document he tried to read for an hour now. You just hummed, wanting to make as little of a noise as possible.
He sighed. If you only knew how much Matt loved your stories. He relied on his hearing the most of all of his senses and somehow you managed to talk in a way that made his mind imagining the scenarios you spoke about. It almost felt like seeing a movie or a television show in his own way. He didn't wanted the dreary silence. He wanted to hear you talk. Because he reached a point in his routine where he couldn't work without getting accompanied by your angelic voice.
You didn't answer his question.
"I was thinking about this saturday for our date?" Matt smiled shyly in an attempt to lighten up your mood. He even called it a date and it seemed like your heart didn't beat at all anymore. You were like a completely different person.
You weren't as excited about going out with him anymore like you've been the day before. You were now insecure about the amount of pointless stories you would force onto the poor man, not being able to keep your mouth shut. You didn't wanted to make Matt go through such a torture. And afterwards he would probably be tired of you and your voice for the rest of his life. That wasn't something you were looking forward too anymore.
"I can't." You lied softly.
Matt knew that you didn't tell the truth and he just trusted you opening up to him when you were ready. He wouldn't push you, even though he could barely hide the disappointement of your date probably not happening.
Your silence lasted for days. You even stopped coming into his office anymore, hiding away in the empty corner's of the office to do your work on the floor. Now and then Karen and Foggy would come up to you, trying to figure out what made you so quiet. Matt missed you around him. He wanted you back in his space, fooling around with him more than actually doing work.
When he decided to take a lunch break, he came up to you. Even though he couldn't see you in every detail, he knew you were sitting on the floor lika a heap of misery, surrounded by documents you didn't touch because you were still too distracted by hurt feelings.
"(Y/N)?" Matt said gently, crouching down to be on eye-level with you. You still looked him in his eyes out of a habit, although his pupils were hidden behind his red lenses.
"Would you like to grab lunch with me?" he asked hopefully, his heart fluttering.
Before you even had the chance to answer, the door swung open and Marci walked in. "Foggybear!" She called through the office and you could immediately hear a chair scraping over the floor. "Marci!" Foggy smiled brightly, appearing beside you and Matt now.
While Marci and Foggy shared a hug and a kiss, Matt got up on his feet again, smiling kindly at the blonde woman. "Hi, Marci." He greeted her.
Her attention landed on your miserable looking form in the corner and she smiled widely. "Isn't the quiet just wonderful?" She sighed, winking at you, before adding: "Good job, Honey."
"What?" Matt asked suddenly confused.
Did Marci just praise you for being quiet?
"What?" She replied.
"What do you mean with telling (Y/N) she's doing a good job?" He felt himself getting angry, as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place.
"Why are you so mad? You should be thanking me. Now she obviously learned when it's time to shut her mouth." Marci said, not even once seeing what the issue was.
She hurt your feelings, she made you believe that no one cared about you, she took your confidence with her. Now Matt understood why you've been acting this strange lately. Ever since you were in the restroom with Marci, you've been quiet and upset. Now he knew why.
"Did you tell her to keep her mouth shut?" He asked in disbelief.
Marci still not understanding what the big deal was, nodded.
Foggy inhaled now audibly, pushing his girlfriend softly away from the raging Matt Murdock.
"Alright." The blonde lawyer stammered. "Let's get something for lunch." He said, urging Marci out of the door.
"I promise I'll talk to her." He whispered to Matt before disappearing with her into the hallway.
Your nose began to tickle as you kept on surpressing the tears in your eyes, threatening to fall.
"(Y/N)." Matt crouched onto the floor with you again.
His hand reached for yours and he hold it lovingly, awakening the butterflies in your stomach again.
"Have you been so quiet for this reason?" He asked and you sniffled.
It wasn't really an answer but somehow he felt confirmed in his apprehension.
He absentmindedly startet to rub circles with his thumb on the back of your hand. "I miss your voice." He admitted softly.
You turned your head in his direction, new tears already developing in your eyes, as your heart painfully cramped up. "Really?" Your voice came out as a whisper, hopefully watching how the corners of his mouth rised into a bright smile. You admired the laugh lines besides his eyes, your heart racing with the new thought coming to your mind, that Matt did care about you.
"Of course." He said. "I love listening to you, (Y/N). Without you being around me, everything feels so dark and lonely." His smile faded into a more serious look on his face, as he turned his head towards you - to let you read his face.
You smiled through your tears. "I thought I annoyed you." You lowered your gaze. "Marci told me that I annoyed all of you, so I figured I would do you a favor and just didn't speak at all anymore." You admitted, looking at your entangled hands and feeling the heat creeping up to your cheeks once more.
His other hand found its way to your cheek and you asked yourself in embarassment if he could feel how hot your skin was.
"You would never annoy me, (Y/N). Please don't listen to anyone who tells you otherwise." He copied his thumb movements from your hand on to your cheek. Your eyelids fluttered close, enjoying the butterflies flapping their wings inside of your body.
"Will you work together with me in my office from now on again?" He whispered, his cheeks getting redder by the second.
"Yes." You said softly. Still being a little insecure about it.
He squeezed your hand lovingly. You liked to think that he felt the same as you, but you couldn't read the emotions on his face properly - his glasses were blocking the most important windows to his soul.
As if by itself your hand moved slowly to his face. But before grabbing the the lenses by the frame, you asked him shyly for permission. He hesitated, before he nodded.
You freed his beautiful eyes from the red shades, admiring the sparkling brown that seemed to house so many of his emotions and you already wished to see his iris skins more often.
His unfocused gaze went back and forth as he fell completely silent after removing his glasses.
He immediately regretted his decision to show you his eyes.
It was the part of him that he felt the most insecure about. A lot of people told him straight up how uncomfortable they felt by seeing his eyes all through his life. Mostly he just brushed it off, but with you it was different. He was frankly scared that you would react to his eyes the way the other people did.
"I'm sorry." He said, groping after his glasses on the floor, which was still in your hand.
"What are you sorry about?" You asked genuinely confused, still being lost in his beautiful eyes.
"My eyes." He swallowed. "They tend to make people uncomfortable." He explained.
It was true that his pupils were larger than normal and his eyes couldn't focus, but that didn't disturb you in the slightest.
"They are beautiful, Matt." You said sincerely, watching how a deeply moved smile grow on his lips.
You didn't purposely destroy the silence of him and you just enjoying the bonding of your two souls and the love in its purest form laying itself on top of the two of you like the coziest blanket in the world.
But you just had to let your thoughts run out of your mouth again. It just was in your nature - and Matt loved it.
With his eyes shining in adoration, he listened to you talk about how your sister's husband bought a pet snake yesterday. It was random, had nothing to do with the moment you shared before and again he compared you to a little bee, enjoying its life and happily flying over a beautiful meadow of thousands of flowers - picking every flower you could.
He let his head rest against your temple while he listened to your list of advantages and disadvantages on why Matt should get a dog. The most important argument was of course that you loved dogs and he laughed heartily. Unable to contain himself, he gently pressed his soft lips against your forehead - silencing you unintentionally.
But he knew you weren't quite because of shock or discomfort.
Your heart on your tongue just grew double the size, making it impossible for you to be able to say a single word.
You smiled in the bliss of falling in love with Matthew Murdock even more.
Closing your eyes, you leaned yourself against him, just wanting to feel his warm skin through his clothes, heating you up and enjoy the fast pace your heart started to beat in suddenly.
You two just lingered there together right on the floor, cuddled up to each other with the biggest smiles across your faces, until a very surprised Foggy returned from his lunch break.
101 notes · View notes
venusguks · 3 years
Text
Unlike You
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pairing : jeon jungkook x fem!reader
summary : As daydreamy and romantic as you are, you decided true love was going to have to wait for you tonight. That was because tonight, you were getting laid !! ...Your best friend doesn’t make it easy for you when he finds out why, though.
warnings : smut, dom!jk, sub!reader, unprotected seggs, fluff, bsf!jk, degredation, dumbification, possessive jk, jealous jk, fun sexy times, jk is whipped for mc, oral (fem receiving), body worshipping, jimin/reader but only for a sec
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“A club?” Jungkook raised his brow.
He was incredulous and slightly displeased as he watched you pace around your room. It was rare after all, new to see you like this―in a black, satin dress with a slit high enough to make him upset. He didn’t need you catching anyone else’s attention, especially in a neon lit bar full of ravenous people.  “For the seventh time, yes, Kook,” You huff, jarring your mouth slightly to dab a dreamy red over your plush lips. 
You couldn’t recall the last time you felt so confident as you applied mascara and tickled a delicate pink over your cheeks. More than anyone, Jungkook couldn’t recall ever seeing you this way, this excited to be amidst a crowd of sweaty bodies. You honestly didn’t see why he was being so apprehensive, it wasn’t like you necessarily hated parties―you just always preferred the coziness of your home better. Huge social interactions were never your thing, and that was okay. Being an introvert wasn’t something to be ashamed of anyway, but staying in came with the everyday comforts of baggy sweatpants and sweaters.
So could anyone really blame you for your excitement? You just loved the way getting ready made you feel, missed it. You already knew you were beautiful with or without makeup, but damn did it make you feel confident.
“It’s just...” Jungkook furrowed his brows and ruffled his hair. “This isn’t like you, love. Did something happen? Are you okay? We can talk about it, if you want. Whatever it is, I’m here to listen you know.” 
You sighed exasperatedly at your best friend’s reflection through your vanity. His eyes were uncertain and full of concern as he watched your figure with crossed arms. “Koo, we’ve been over this so many times already. I’m nervous enough as it is, and you’re not helping at all. I want to do this, okay? It’s been awhile. Plus, I haven’t seen the others boys in so long.”
A part of you didn’t want to be annoyed at Jungkook for his incessant worrying, but it truly was hard not to sometimes. “You’re being such a fucking dick, you know that?! Can’t I just live my life without you being so fucking hysterical about it every time?! ” It was that winter a few months ago when you unleashed all your pent up frustration. Jungkook had always been overprotective, and you appreciated him for caring, but he just made it so hard for you to even breathe sometimes. It was the biggest argument you guys ever had when you started dating a boy a few years older. You ignored Jungkook’s calls and messages for weeks, but when you discovered that he cheated on you, Jungkook was the first to be by your side. You still remember the assurance and safety you felt in his arms; with his soft lips against your forehead, murmuring sweet consolations as you sobbed on his shoulder. After that day, Jungkook agreed to be less protective. 
“I just don’t get why it has to be a club. We could meet the hyungs anywhere else, baby.”
“Oh sure, maybe a strip club would do,” you said, chuckling when you see his shock. “I’m kidding, Koo.” Though that wouldn’t be such a bad idea...
Maybe you couldn’t blame him for being so appalled. You usually opted out whenever your friends went out to celebrate, which by the way, was rather often. Night after night, the few of them would call you, practically beg until they realized their efforts would end in vain. By the morning, notifications would spam your phone of their wild night; pictures and details that showcased hookups you didn’t need to know about. Now that you think about it, it was sort of ironic that you’d always grimace to the crude texts.
That was because tonight, you decided you were getting laid.
That’s right, to hell with sweet, wholesome love! If true love had to make you wait, true love would have to wait for you too! Your subscribing 48K readers have been expecting a new chapter of Spring’s Breath, an erotica series, which you’ve delayed for 2 whole months now. You didn’t exactly know when your writers block came, but by the fourth hour you stared at your blank screen, unable to come up with any other synonym for dick or thrust or moan; or how the overused dirty talk you wrote made you cringe―you realized the firecracker you had in writing erotica died out.
It was your dear friend, Hoseok, who suggested the whole ordeal. He was the only one who knew your secret, anyway. You had so much trust in him, so when he professed that maybe if you slept with someone, your spark would come back, you had truly considered it. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. After all, no cons would come out of it. It was just odd to think about.
You have always been such a huge romantic, your literature proved it. Jungkook nor you nor anyone would anticipate you hooking up with someone just to hook up with someone. The tenderness, the connection, the intimacy... you’ve always prioritized genuine adoration over whimsical one night stands. You were an honest daydreamer, and maybe that’s why your works would always take off.
But maybe... maybe it was okay to let go once in awhile.
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When you mentioned Jungkook being less overprotective, you forgot to put an emphasis on less―because there he was, his hand possessively squeezing your inner thigh every time you even dared to look at a cute boy. You let out a frustrated sigh when he nuzzles his nose into your neck.
You tried not to mind it. It was just in his nature anyway―ever since kindergarten when he found you crying over your dropped ice cream. Jungkook left only to come back with another cone, rubbing your fat tears away with the palm of his sleeve. In elementary school, he peppered you with tiny kisses when you sobbed over the death of your kitten. You’ve only had him for a month, dedicated all your time to him and skipped play dates to care for your little serendipity―but just like that―he was lifeless. It was Jungkook who found him on the road. In middle school, he’d go through the enveloped confessions in your locker and rip them apart, saying you deserved better than any of them. You’ve always looked up to him througha lens of admiration. Everything he did for you, he did it out of thought and care. It was sweet.
It was times like these where you really started to mind though. 
You’ve been giggling with your friends for the past hour, catching up on every minuscule detail. You were sitting in a booth wedged in the middle of Jungkook and Hoseok, brimming with happiness to see Namjoon and Yoongi again. Its been so long, and your heart would swell to the stories you’ve missed out on.
The night was carrying on delightfully! ...except for the fact that Jungkook sent death glares to whoever even glanced at you. The countless of times you shyly returned someone’s gaze, only for them to rush away when they caught sight of your best friend left you agitated. When the boys were engaged in a conversation about a class they all shared together, you decided it was a good time to bring it up. 
Gulping a shot down, you let out a huff. “Kookie...”
“Yes, baby?” He whispered into your ear, his large hand grazing the access of your slitted dress.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what, love?” You sharply inhaled as Jungkook rubbed sensitive circles on your skin.
Immediately standing up, you squeezed yourself out of the booth. “I’m gonna go dance!” You yell through the loud music, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes, because seriously, the nerve of that man! The rest of your friends cheered, “We love to see you like this, y/n! Enjoy yourself, cutie!” Hoseok laughed when you blew a kiss to him. He made you feel so much more at ease, so much more confident. Okay, you got this! No use in sitting around. You couldn’t get anywhere tonight with Jungkook by your side, anyway.
Fluffing out your hair after you downed another shot, you strut your way into the dance floor. Your hips swayed in a rather alluring manner as you made your way into the crowd, your fingertips tracing seductive lines from your hips up to your waist, your neck and finally, into the air. The alcohol slowly took its effect as your confidence settled in, rolling your head back and moving your body fluidly to the loud music. 
Truth be told, you didn’t know what you were doing, just knew you must’ve looked good as hell doing it as you felt hands grip your waist. You gasped as a body pressed against your back, sticky with sweat.
“You’re so captivating, princess,” His dulcet voice was enough to make you weak...or was it the alcohol? Whatever the case, get your grip together y/n! It was just four words for star’s sake! 
“I, um, th-thank you...um! You too..” Your confidence from only moments ago dissolved with your voice. “So shy now, princess? How come? You were dancing so sexily just moments ago.” He chuckled lowly against your ear, nibbling it. You whimpered to his brazen touch, his hands guiding your hips with his. “Are you shy for me? Is that it? What a cute little princess you are... so beautiful, fuck.”
Annnnnnnnd you truly were fucked. You professed only hours ago that true love could wait, that you’d be a different woman tonight, yet you couldn’t help but feel bashful to the man’s praise. His voice and his nectar sweet words enough to make you feel wobbly.
“I’m Jimin. Can I know my princess’s name?” He pressed his hardened member against your ass, the silk thin fabric barely doing its job of coverage. “Ah Jimin,” you moaned breathlessly as he kissed your neck. “I...I’m-”
“―Mine,” a low, husky voice finished. Jungkook stood behind you, jaw clenched and arms crossed. The veins on his biceps protruded under the incandescent lights; His white shirt and tight, black jeans doing wonders to complement his physique. 
“Are you deaf? I said she’s mine so why the fuck are your hands still on her?” Jungkook had always been intimidating, even when he didn’t try―so in the rare times he did, even he scared you sometimes.
Much to your disappointment, Jimin immediately lets go, hands in the air, “sorry man, I didn’t know.”
“W-what? Wait, he isn’t my...!” Before you could try to reach for the pink haired man, Jungkook firmly takes your hand. “Y/n, we’re leaving.” You didn’t even have a second to feel shocked before he swiftly guides you through the ocean of bodies. Loud music reverberated with your disappointment, and by the time the night’s cold air stings your cheeks, you've processed what just happened―what you just missed. It’s when Jungkook latches your seatbelt on and drives that you feel anger simmer in your chest.
“Why did you...Why the fuck did you do that, Jungkook?” You were exasperated with your emotions. You just didn’t get it. You were finally having the time of your life, finally stepping out of your comfort zone, finally dancing with a guy who made you feel amazing―just to end up on a drive back home before anything could happen. “Seriously, what the hell is your problem? That was my..! He was..!” You groaned, too frustrated to conjure up words.
Jungkook scoffed, “what, y/n? He was what? Your soulmate or something?”
“I didn’t say that! And even if I think so, why does it matter?! I was having fun! I was having so much fun and you just..! (hiccup) I was having so much fun....” You cried into your hands. “I haven’t felt that way in so long, j-just for you to mess everything up. God, I can’t even muster up words right now. I hate you so much.”
“Love...” Jungkook finally sighed, shutting the engine off. You had cried the whole ride home. The anger he once felt diminished with your tears. “Baby, please look at me.” 
“F-fuck (hiccup) off, Jungkook.” You quickly unbuckled your seatbelt and opened the car door. Knowing him as long as you did, you knew he would take your chin to force you to look up at him―but you had enough of him for the night, and honestly, the whole week.
You were just so fucking frustrated at everything. At Jungkook for unnecessarily budging in, at your writers block, at your own sexual frustration left with Jimin. What did you have to offer your readers now? A heartbreak of a possible relationship that never happened with a shitty friend on the side?
You tuned out Jungkook shouting from behind you, striding to you complex and up the stairs.
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It wasn’t long after you slammed the door shut that you heard it click open again. You had forgotten Jungkook had an extra spare of your keys. “Just leave me alone, Kook.” You groaned, storming off into your room.
You kicked your heels off and stomped to your bed, taking out your frustration on your pillow where your sobs were muffled. The bed dips down when Jungkook sits beside you, silent as he caressed your hair in the way he always did to soothe your nerves.
Deciding it wasn’t enough this time, he carefully lifts you up to sit on his lap, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you into his chest. Jungkook knew you long enough to know hugs were the best remedy for you, even at your angriest moments. He knew you wouldn’t push him away.
“You jerk...” You buried your face into the crook of his neck, sniffling. “I don’t get you, Kookie. Why do you always do this?”
“I...I just wanted to protect you, baby. People have bad intentions, I didn’t want to see you end up doing something you’d regret,” His voice was gentle, brushing hair strands away from your face.
“Stars, Kook, I knew what I was doing. Whether I’d end up regretting it or not, that’s for me to sort out. I didn’t need you to ‘protect’ me. I was really enjoying myself, something I haven’t done in a long time. A-and you just..! You ruined it for me.”
Jungkook scoffed, “so you liked it then, how he was touching you? You were just going to let him fuck you?”
“Yes, Kook!” You yelled. “He could’ve fucked me in the public bathroom or in his car―in front everyone for all I care! He was hot and we were in the moment and you just interrupted! I know you care for me and I’ll always appreciate you worrying but there’s a fine line where your protectiveness should be. I’m not a kid anymore, Kook.”
Jungkook was gritting his teeth, and the two of you only glared at each other before he let out a sigh. Despite him wanting to be mad, he didn’t like making you upset. If you were going to cry because of him, he wanted it to be for an entirely different reason. 
He gently cupped your cheeks, holding your gaze with tender, sad eyes. “You know I’d do anything for you, yes? That I’ve always done anything and everything I could to help you?”
You furrowed your brows, unsure of how that related to anything, but nonetheless, you nod. “Yes, I know Kook.”
“Then why didn’t you just ask me to sleep with you, hm? If you needed help so bad, why didn’t you just ask me, baby?” You stared, dumbfounded and mouth ajar as his thumbs brushed the remnants of your tears away.
“W-What are you...?”
“Was so concerned for my baby. Hoseok got drunk and told me everything I needed to know. Did you know how hurt I was? How Hoseok knew something about you that I didn’t? Especially that you were a writer, love. I thought I was your number one, how could you keep that from me?”
“O-Of course you are, Koo! You’ll always be my number one. I just...didn’t want to tell you because it was embarrassing,” you mumbled, glancing away. Damn it Jung Hoseok! After all these years, this is when he accidentally slips it out? “Nuh uh, baby, I’m not having any of that. Look at me.”
Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours, an act you were certainly no stranger to, but nevertheless making your cheeks warm. “Not only that, you wanted to go clubbing tonight just to find a stranger to help you, is that right, baby? Wore this tiny dress just so someone could fuck you? Wanted Jimin to fuck you? Wanted to write about him fucking you in the bathroom stall?” Jungkook was speaking softly, though his words were anything but as his hands left your cheeks to trace sensuous lines up your thigh.
Your hands weakly held onto his shoulders, gasping when you felt his bulge press against your sensitive core.
“What was that you said....In his car? Wanted him to fuck you in front of everybody? Wanted to be a dirty slut just for your readers?” You didn’t know how exactly this moment came to be, but his honeyed voice brought you to a daze as you grind your hips against him. You were desperate to feel more—of anything, of him—only to let out a whine when he forcefully holds you down, burying your clothed center into his bulge. 
“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you deserve it,” Jungkook’s hot breath tickled your ear. You whimpered as he bit it, hands squeezing your hips. “You used to be so good for me baby, used to come to me for anything. Used to be a good little girl and depend on me. I would’ve helped you, baby. Instead, you became a dirty little slut, let another man touch you. Is that what you are now? A fucking slut?”
“N-no Kookie,” a new bundle of tears welled in your eyes at his harsh words. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sh-should’ve, ah, went to you,” you felt your body succumb to his touch. His nose brushed your jaw, placing warm kisses all over your neck before he glided his tongue down to your collarbone. “Please forgive me, I-I’ll be a good girl for you now, p-promise.”
“Yeah? Wanna be a good girl for daddy?” Jungkook licks the base of your collarbone before sucking it. “Yes..ah, yes daddy. Gonna be so good for you.” 
“And yet you weren’t,” you cried as you felt teeth sink into your skin. “J-Jung― ah, Kookie stop! Please i-it hurts!”
“You deserve this, fucking slut. You know how much you hurt me tonight? You’re secretly just a desperate whore, aren’t you? Missed your tiny cunt getting fucked so much that you’d let a stranger do it for you, hm? Answer me, slut.”
You felt tears drip down your eyes, embarrassment washing over your face. “What? You’re not going to speak now?” You shook your head in desperation. You couldn’t. How could you? It was too shameful.
You yelped when Jungkook picked you up by your waist and turned you over so your face was smushed into a pillow. “Ass up, now. Don’t make me repeat myself.” He snarled, and you immediately obliged. Jungkook was on his knees, eyes lidded to your position as he rubbed slow circles on your bare ass. “My slut is voiceless now, hm? Begged to be daddy’s good girl but can’t even answer when I talk to you. Why are you being so disobedient tonight, baby?” It happened so fast you could barely gasp as your body lurched forward to the slap. It repulsed through your skin as your right cheek stung with a faint red.
“J-J-Jungkook, ah!” You cried as another slap came, face burying further into your pillow. “I’ll be obedient from now on! s-so please! I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, daddy!”
Jungkook’s lips pulled to a smirk, grabbing a bundle of your hair before pulling you towards him. You whimpered and he bent down so he could see your face, tisking. “Oh, my poor baby. Did that hurt? Want to be a good little girl for daddy now?” You nodded ferociously, “p-please yes daddy! I-I’ll be so good for you. Please let me be good for you!” 
Jungkook’s dick felt constrained in his tight pants. He licked his lips to your messy, desperate state. Your eyes were red and puffy, lips just the same as heavy tears streamed down your eyes. Fuck, what Jungkook would give to fuck you senseless right then and there. But no, he needed to wait, needed to be patient. You deserved this.
“Make up your fucking mind, slut. If you want to be a good girl, then take your punishment like a good girl,” Jungkook pushed your face back into the pillow before slapping your ass once more. 
You didn’t know how long it went on, only knew the room was filled with your sobbing and the alarming sound of the contact that met your bruised skin. It hurt, it hurt so much. Your thighs were trembling and both your cheeks were a lovely shade of red and purple. But no matter how much you screamed your endless arrays of i’m sorry’s, Jungkook didn’t fail to notice how your juices soaked your underwear and spilled down your thighs
“Already making such a mess baby,” He groaned to the sight, palming himself to his creation. 
“P-please....hurts so bad...please let me l-lay down daddy, can’t hold myself much longer, please,” Jungkook adored the way you sounded for him, the way he corrupted you. You were perfect there, so perfectly powerless under him. 
“Mm, keep begging baby and maybe I’ll let you,” he unbuckled his pants and discarded them, his cock throbbing to your feeble pleads. “Please, please, p-please, please daddy... please. Hurts so bad, I-I can’t... please i-i’m a good girl. I’m a good girl for daddy. I’ll do anything please.”
“Did you learn your lesson, then?”
“Yes, I-I did, daddy!”
“You’ll be a good girl and obey daddy from now on?”
“Mhm!” You nodded vigorously, and Jungkook chuckled to your desperation. He peeled your soaked thong down, lifting your limp legs momentarily to pull it off until he set you back. You were so tired you felt your thighs give up on you right then, but before you could submit to your exhaustion, Jungkook lifted your ass up higher, arching your back deeper with one hand.
“Mm I don’t think so baby. Obey daddy and keep your ass up like a good little girl.” A gasp left your quivering lips when you felt Jungkook’s breath on your throbbing core.
“You smell so sweet baby, so fucking wet for me,” Jungkook hikes your dress up and glides his tongue up your inner thigh, wiping your dripping juices clean. “Kookie, mm, please,” he trails delicate kisses over your skin, nibbling it. “Yes, baby?” 
“P-please...please Kookie..!”
“Use your words, baby. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what you want.” Jungkook smiles against your thigh as he hears your soft sniffles muffled by the pillow. His poor baby, always so shy. It was true he loved to tease you, tempt you, and loved making you cry for him—but more than anything, he wanted to take care of you. “Please touch me, Koo, please.”
“Of course, sweetheart.” A sharp shiver crawls across your skin when your pleads are obliged, moaning as Jungkook stuffs his face into your cunt. He kisses your clit softly. One, two, three times before sucking it with his plush lips. His hands were the only thing keeping you up now because you practically melted to the touch. The way his tongue rolled over your sensitive bud already having you see stars. “Ah...feels so good, Kookie.”
“Yeah? Would it feel even better if I do this?” He easily slides his middle finger into your slippery hole, slowly pumping in and out. “O-oh...oh my god, more please.”
“Anything for you baby, but first,” a whimper escapes your lips when you feel him leave you, that is until Jungkook swiftly but gently flips you over so you’re finally laying on your back.
Jungkook’s breath hitches to the sight of you below him, frozen for a moment to the aching pull of his heart.
“You’re so pretty baby, so pretty,” Jungkook’s voice was sweet and smooth as he helped you undress. Fuck, did you know how much you pained him? How much he held back for you, all these years, in this moment? It was so hard not to take you right then, to kiss you until you couldn’t breathe, to touch every single part of you with his lips.
Jungkook has fantasized about you ever since he could remember, but you truly went beyond his imagination. You were so fucking beautiful. 
“...so pretty here,” he kisses your cheeks and your jaw, down to your neck. “And here,” he kisses the valley between your breasts, his hands trailing down your curves. “And here,” your stomach...and finally, taking your clit back into his mouth.
“The prettiest cunt baby, dripping so much for daddy,” he murmurs. His tongue rolls around your clit, pumping two fingers in and out of your slick pussy. It was all too much, the sensations overwhelming your senses as ungodly moans escape your mouth. You felt fuzzy and almost light headed, reaching down to hold Jungkook’s curls.
Your back arches and tears stream down your eyes from the intense pleasure exhausting you, his fingers curling into your sweet spot mercilessly. “Do you like this baby?”
“Love it so much, Jungkook,” You moaned breathlessly, looking down at him through your tears and ... wow. 
Jungkook’s brows were creased as he focused on his tongue devouring your wet cunt, plunging his two fingers steadily in and out of you. His bangs were sticking to his forehead, glossed with sweat while your hands curled around the rest. 
You were taken aback with your emotions. Was it strange, how timid you felt then? Doing this with him was supposed to be sinful, yet for some reason, it felt anything but at that moment.
It was the fact that Jungkook looked so intent, so concentrated in making you feel good. How Jungkook showed his care for you, how he always did, how he was doing right now, cherishing you with his best effort. He wanted to give you the best experience he could, wanted nothing more than to make you feel good.
It was unbearable how much your heart swelled for him.
A knot tied in your stomach, and as if noticing your stare, his eyes flutter open to look at you.“Hm, does baby wanna cum now? You can do it love, cum for daddy.”
With that, you came undone in Jungkook’s mouth. Your cries filled the room, and Jungkook opened your hole wider with his fingers, devouring your cream. The sound of slurping made your cheeks heat with an impure red. “That’s my girl, so good for daddy. So sweet for me baby, so beautiful.”
When you went limp in his arms, he gives your lips one last sweet kiss before standing on his knees. Jungkook smiles at the sight of you, already so fucked out even when he was no where near finished with you. 
He crawled forward, his forehead resting over yours once again. “Did that feel good, sweetie?” You nod shyly, your chests heaving up and down together. With rosy cheeks, you weakly bring your hands up to trace his jaw. “Jungkook?”
“Yes baby?” You melted to his dulcet voice, keeping his loving gaze. It held so much affection, so much adoration for you, you wondered why you never realized it.
“Kiss me, please.”
Jungkook smiles warmly. Without hesitation, he takes your lush, sweet lips in his. It was gentle, a kind of kiss that was so tender it made you warm with reassurance. You were kissing Jungkook—your silly, annoying, bratty, and all the while, lovable best friend of 20 years. It was strange and odd but more than anything, it felt so, unmistakably right.
You took Jungkook by surprise when you deepened the kiss, your hand squeezing his hair. He chuckled softly, pulling himself back momentarily to look into your eyes. “I love you,” he whispers.
Your cheeks heat up, but you fight your timidness as you smile back, “I love you too, Kookie.” 
With that, Jungkook delves back into your lips. A kiss that wasn’t so delicate this time. Rather, untamed and furious, as if Jungkook wanted to show you how much, how long he’s wanted this all this time.
You moaned into him as his hands groped your breasts, fingers twirling your perky nipples. “Jungkookie,” you hold your breath, feeling his clothed cock press against your core. “Fuck me please. Please, I need you so bad.”
“Yeah?” He lowers himself to take a nipple into his mouth. “Tell me how much you want it baby.” He flicked, swirled, and sucked it with his tongue, alternating with the other.
“W-Want it so bad daddy. Please, n-need you to fuck my wet pussy mm, daddy please.”
“Since you asked so nicely,” he grins and sits up, pulling his shirt over his head, discarding his boxers and...
Oh.
Your breath hitched, blinking at Jungkook’s huge, painfully hardened cock. His tip was pink with sticky, white precum dribbling down his long member. It slightly pretruded up and its veins throbbed as if it’s been aching. And truly, he was. He’s been aching to feel your walls wrap around him for so long. You have no idea how hard he’s been trying to hold himself back for you. How painful it was to—and now, seeing you there, perfect and pretty, so shy and red just for him, Jungkook wasn’t sure he could anymore.
Jungkook needed you. He needed you getting stuffed full of his cock right now.
“I-Its so big...” You gulp as he centers himself in between your legs. “I know baby, so big and ready for your tiny cunt. Can you be a big girl and take it for me baby, hm? Let daddy fuck you until he’s satisfied? Let him use you like the little cock slut you are?”
“Y-yes daddy,” you whimper as he rubs his slick tip against your soaked, smooth cunt, sliding it back and forth. “I’m yours so please, p-please just use me daddy!”
“So good for me baby, such an obedient little slut for daddy, fuck,” Jungkook groans, slipping his tip into your lush walls. You cry as he stretches you all the way out, leaving no room for you to breathe with his tip poking your tummy. Your mind felt dizzy, mouth ajar with drool slipping out even when he hadn’t even moved yet. 
“Shiiit you should see yourself baby. Such a fucking whore for daddy’s cock. Can I move, baby? Or can this tiny little pussy not take my big cock?”
“I-I..mm, please, I can take it! Please fuck me daddy!”
“That’s my girl.” Jungkook starts off painfully slow but just as painfully hard, pushing your knees to your chest. He completely draws himself back so he can see his glistening, twitching tip before driving himself back into your core. “Shit baby, your pussy’s so, fuck, tight.” Jungkook moaned to how your breast bounced up and down every time he shoved himself in.
You were sobbing by the time he quickened his pace, the intense sensation having you light headed. Jungkook loved the way you looked under him, eyes rolled back with buried balls deep inside of you. “You like this baby? Love my cock filling you? Answer me.”
“L-love mm love so m—ah, Kookie..! f-feels so....g-good daddy.”
“Look at you, baby. Can’t even talk with daddy’s cock stuffing you. Such a dumb slut for daddy, so fucking hot baby.” Jungkook moans, juices spurting everywhere and dampening the sheets with every thrust.
“I-I’m not d-dumb..!” You whimpered, fat tears streaming down your eyes. Jungkook smirks, licking his lips.
“Aww, of course you are baby. Just a dumb little cock slut for daddy. Can only think of daddy’s cock, can you?”
You can’t bring yourself to answer, your mind too scrambled with each and every thrust. Jungkook was going so fast, so hard, you felt so full.
“That’s what I thought baby. My sweet girl, fucked dumb for daddy. You only need daddy’s cock, nothing else.” Jungkook positioned your legs over his shoulders, clenching on to them to drill deeper into your tummy.
“Oh, o-oh my god, ah d-daddy...! ‘m your slut...love your dick so m-much...love being stuffed with cock.” Jungkook groaned to your sinful moans, feeling his stomach tighten.
“Just want daddy to cum inside you, don’t you? Want daddy to fill you up until you’re dripping with my cum, baby?”
“Y-yes, please daddy! Want daddy’s cum so bad! Please give me cum..!” Jungkook shoves his thumb inside of you plush lips, and god, he’s so proud of his work, so proud of you. You were taking his thumb like a good girl, sucking it as if it were his cock.
Jungkook felt his dick throb inside of you, aching for release. He pulls his thumb out with a pop of your wet lips, coated with saliva, and rubs figures over your clit. You scream, gripping onto the sheets. it was so much, too much for you to handle. Your back arches as he abuses your clit and sloppily fucks your hole.
“J-Jung–Jungkook, ah, please! Kookie! I-I’m..!”
“Its okay, baby, its okay. Gonna cum with daddy, hm? You can do it baby, sweet girl, cum for me,” Jungkook cooes, attempting to soothe your nerves, but his words are breathless and ragged. He thrusts in and out one, two, three, four more times until he burries himself deep inside you, spurts of thick cum filling your womb.
Jungkook groans as your pussy clenches around him, and you’re a sobbing, moaning, wet mess as you milk him. “Fuck, my sweet girl. Taking my cum like a big girl baby. So good for daddy, so fucking good for me.” With his praise, you feel yourself release soon after. Jungkook continues to thrust in and out of you, helping you ride out your high.
When he feels you falter in his arms, he pulls out and lays on top of you. Both of you stay like that for awhile, exhausted and in a daze.
With your moist bodies tangled with one another’s, you shut your eyes. You can hear Jungkook’s heartbeat hammer against yours, you short-winded breaths, and the soft whirring sound of the air conditioner.
Moonlight filtered in through your windows, casting a luminescent glow on Jungkook’s skin when he pushes his upper body up, his shoulders resting on either side of you.
Jungkook had spent the whole night cherishing you, telling you how pretty you were, and yet there he was—so ethereal under midnight’s grace. How could he be real?
You bring your hand to caress his cheeks. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t either.
In that moment, so intimate and sacred, His doe, gentle eyes that you could get lost in—that hold all the lost stars of the night sky, tell you all you need to know.
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You yawn, stretching your arms high up. “Here’s your order maam,” two porcelain cups of matcha are placed in front of you, steam following it’s every movement. You mumble a thank you, smiling before your eyes drift to the man at the other side of the cross walk.
He’s wearing all black as per usual, revealing the beautiful tattoos that adorned his tan skin. His hair was tousled and he looked sleepy—after all, he’d just gotten out of class—but as soon as the crosswalk lights up with green, you chuckle when he sprints across and into the shop.
The bell that hung by the door didn’t even finish ringing before he runs to you, sweeping you off your chair and into his arms. “Kookie, let me down!” You giggle, but nonetheless wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I’m so proud of you baby,” he nuzzles his nose into yours. “You finally published it right? The twenty second chapter?”
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a / n : ahhhhh its exactly 3:01am and i have class in the morning which is why the middle ending is super rushed sorry ! i truly wonder why i do this to myself.
this is my first smut fanfiction so i’m not sure how i did , but if anyone ever reads this , i hope you enjoyed ! i dont think im cut out to write smut, i truly did have headaches thinking of synonyms for thrust and dirty talk . i really admire smut writers ,, writing smut is not as easy as it seems !!
anyways , sending love abundance and happiness your ways. you deserve love, you’re worthy of love, and you are love.
stay safe and healthy starlights <3
2K notes · View notes
baecvlt · 3 years
Text
Stalker Nagito Komaeda x Milf!Reader
this was requested via my twitter:
“Hey! i’ve seen your works and I’m in love. Can I request smut where a stalker Nagito Komaeda becomes obsessed with a milf reader who moves into the neighborhood who’s like a dom in bed and ya know just large bust and taller than him. Thank youuu🤍”
a/n: ofc. but I have my own idea of a dom which i’ll use involving certain things (heed warnings)
warnings: he is so obviously a virgin in this, degradation, slight masochism, asphyxiation, spit, also Nagito calls the reader mommy (side note: nagito is in his early 20s in this, he lives alone. age of reader isn’t specified BUT I say she’s in her late 20s/early 30s)
• • •
It was a bright day...which Nagito despised. It was summer. He hated the sun, hated the mosquitoes, and the unnecessary humidity. It was days like these he wishes he was back at his university dorm. The A/C, the tall tree covering his window and blocking the sun...it was perfect. Hell, he didn’t even hate classes. Yet, he couldn’t live in the dorms forever. When it came time to buy a home, he stupidly did so in fall, moved in during the winter.
Well, no shit the home seemed perfect then. It wasn’t fucking summer. His A/C decided to break, his windows has a great view of the sun, and most of his friends were out of town (all except Hajime, but Hajime is fucking boring and a bummer). Nagito sat on his couch, watching reruns of old tv shows. He took a sip from his nearby glass (cold water), suddenly hearing sounds of what appeared to be a loading van. He looked outside his window.
A moving van?
Right, that one old man who lived there passed away. Freak accident, by the way. Oh well, may he rest in peace. Meanwhile, Nagito was being himself and trying to see who it was. Pretty much, the dude was being nosy. He saw another car pull up. That must’ve been the family’s car. Out jumped 3 kids, what appeared to be 2 girls and 1 boy. An adult stepped out. Nagito decided he’d get a better look at the situation. He put on his shirt, black jeans, and his green hood.
He was “going for a walk”.
Without being noticed, he made his way to the other side of the street. It was a woman, she was taking boxes out of the truck. The minute Nagito saw her it was if he was stricken by Cupid’s arrow. She was tall and beautiful. Her skin complimented her hair and her legs, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Her breasts...he needed to stop—
“Hi!”
She was in front of him, a warm and inviting smile on her face. “H-Hi,” he muttered. She didn’t hear him well, so it helped that he waved. “I’m new in the neighborhood. We just moved in,” she added, putting the box down. She stuck her hand out, going for a handshake. He shook her hand, her warm hand against his cold ones. Why are his hands always cold? “I see,” he responded, getting his shit together,“I’m Nagito Komaeda. I live across the street”. She introduced herself and complimented his house.
“What a lovely home. I hope the neighborhood is just as lovely”
“It should be. It’s pretty quiet. There’s not many families here. Say, can I help you pack?”
“You’re too sweet! I’d really appreciate it”
He helped take all the boxes in her home, helping load a couch too, and help with other large objects. They finished in 9 hours, taking a majority of the day. “Thanks for helping out, Nagito”. She made a lemonade, handing him a glass.
“Don’t mention it! Also, thank you”
One of the kids ran in the living room where they sat on the couch. He gasped when he saw Nagito. “Mommy! That man looks dead!!!”. Nagito smiled, but his mom was not amused. “Michael! Apologize..”. The kid kept smiling and said,“Sorry!”. He ran to another room. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered. Nagito shook his head.
“Hey, I’m rather malnourished”
“Ha. On an unrelated topic, are you hungry? I could make us something”
“Oh, I shouldn’t linger any longer. I wouldn’t want to disturb your husband”
She laughed. “I know you mean no harm, but I’m not married,” she added. “Oh,” Nagito muttered,“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it in any way”. She shook her head and reassured him it was fine. “Sit, Nagito,” she pulled out a chair,“I’m not letting you refuse having dinner with us. Especially since you were such help”. She rubbed his back before heading back into the kitchen to begin cooking.
She made him a bowl of pasta, adding chicken on the side. Nagito was quite happy. He hadn’t eaten a good meal in so long. Her kids didn’t eat at the table, but on the counter. Meanwhile, she ate with Nagito. Just as Nagito thought he couldn’t grow fonder of her, he did just that. All she did was let him talk about himself.
“Jesus, I’m sorry about your parents? How are you keeping yourself afloat with university and expenses?”
“Academic scholarships”
“Wow, you’re such a smart boy”
The way she phrased it made him flustered. “Thank you for the meal, ma’am,” he muttered,“I haven’t eaten like this in who knows how long”. She smiled tenderly, picking up his empty plate. “Seconds?”. He shook his head.
“No, thank you. I’m already so full”
“I’m glad. You know, there’s always a meal for you in store if you can do me a favor”
“What’s that?”
“My oldest daughter has her final test this week. You think you can help her study? I’ll make you a nice, warm meal every time you come over”
Nagito thought about it. He would also have time around her. Plus, she wasn’t a bad cook. “Of course, I look forward to it,” he told her. “Lovely”. He got up and excused himself to go home. “It was nice having you over, Nagito,” she said softly. He could tell she was getting sleepy. When people are tired, Nagito has noticed that their tone is rather sheepish. She walked him to the door, ruffling his hair playfully and he blushed. “Goodnight, neighbor”.
“Goodnight, you”
Before he left, she stopped him and handed him a paper: (xxx) xxx-xxxx ♡
“Call me when you get home so I have your number saved. Then, I can call you when my daughter, Vanessa, needs help. Take care, okay?”
He nodded.
She closed the door, his thoughts racing on his way home. He picked up some things about her, things she didn’t even tell him. He went home and opened a notebook, writing all of it down. He called her and she answered, her voice as sweet as when he left (only sleepier). “Hello?”. His breath was heavy without realizing it as he spoke. “H-Hey, you told me to call you,” he breathed,“It’s Nagito...Komaeda”
“Oh, hey, angel! I’m not interrupting anything am I?”
“What? No, it’s all good— why’d you think so?”
“You sound like you need to catch your breath, but anyway, thanks for calling me. I’ve saved your number now”
“Oh, great! Well, if that’s all, I’ll let you go to bed now”
“It was. Goodnight, Nagito”
“G-Goodnight”
He hung up, flustered more than ever as he continued to jot down his thoughts on paper. The next day, he woke up at 6am to wait in his car. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. At around 7:41am, his front neighbor and kids headed for their car. Nagito, who had taken a light nap in the driver’s seat, was awoken by the car starting. He waited for the car to drive away just slightly past his house to start his own car, slowly tailing behind her.
He dropped her kids off at the nearby elementary. She got off, kissed them on their forehead (all minus the eldest, who walked swiftly through the gates). Seeing how she cared for them made Nagito feel bad, but all he did was brush that feeling off. Next, he followed her through her daily. As he did, his notes from last night echoed through his mind, adding new detail.
“She works at an office not everyday She doesn’t have allergies but is sensitive to dust Red seems to be her favorite color but always in a darker shade Her daughter is around 10 years old She isn’t vegan but enjoys almond milk Maybe has an issues with abandonment but I can’t assume that either She buys many apples but not the same amount of bananas at the store so maybe she only eats the bananas—”
Just more to add to his notebook.
He got home before she did, writing down what he had learned. His phone rang about an hour later of him getting home. He picked it up,“Hello?”. “Nagito, hi!”. It was her. He started having a mini-panic attack, because why would she be calling him? “H-Hey, how are you?”
“I’m doing alright. I was wondering if you could come over and tutor Vanessa”
Oh, thank god.
“Yes, of course. I’ll be down there right now”
“Great. See you then!”
He was relieved, heading to her home happily. He knocked on the door. When she opened it, she did so with the same warm smile as yesterday. “Thank you for coming over,” she said,“She’s in her room”. Nagito nodded, freezing when she grabbed his hand and took him to the room. Her touch was so soft, noted. They got to the room, where a girl was reading a book on a desk. “Nessa?”. The girl turned around.
“Nagito is going to be here for a few hours to help you out with homework and studying. He’s really smart, so pay attention and be respectful”
“Okay, mom”
She nodded, squeezing Nagito’s shoulder before leaving. Nagito approached the girl, she took her things out. Before he could speak, she stopped him. “Please don’t call me ‘Nessa’,” she whispered,“It’s bad enough my mom does, but not you, Please”.
“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on referring to you at all”
“Bastard”
“Nessa”
“I guess I walked right into that one”
Nagito laughed, grabbing a chair and sitting next to her. Her work wasn’t what he expected. Is this what they’re teaching kids now? He could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen this type of stuff until he hit middle school. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t do, but damn. All in all, tutoring went well. Vanessa actually learned something today. “Good job!,” he said. “Thank you,” she smiled and hugged him,“I felt so stupid”.
“Hey, its okay not to understand things”
Her mom walked in. “Dinner’s ready”. Vanessa got up and went to the kitchen. “How’d it go?,” she asked Nagito. “Went well, she gets the math now,” he answered. She smiled, thanking him for his help and asking him to join them for dinner. He’d be foolish not to, so he accepted the invite.
Fish tacos were served tonight with rice and beans, another lemonade made. It was different than anything Nagito had ever had, but that doesn’t equate to bad. He actually enjoyed the meal. The kids sat at the main table today, much more respectful than yesterday. “Michael how was school?”. He put a thumbs up, getting back to eating. “And Adrianna?”. She looked up from her meal and shrugged. “What’s wrong?”.
“I’m tired, but class was okay”
“Oh, okay. When you’re done, just take a quick shower and get to bed”
“Thanks”
Nagito thought it was endearing. Seeing how understanding and loving she was, it was refreshing. The kids all eventually left, Nagito finishing his meal. “Did you like it?”. He looked at her, nodding. “Great! Seconds?”.
“Full again. I don’t usually eat, but your food is always so good”
“Oh, you’re just saying things...”
“No, really! Thank you”
He said his goodbyes to the family, walking back home. It was as if he was falling for this woman more and more everyday. He went to sleep, this time dreaming of her. He never dreams, but this time he dreamt she was on her knees for him. Then, nothing else. It was as if his dream teased him.
The next morning, he woke up to some knocking on the door. He looked at the time. 8:23am. He put on a pair of jeans and his shirt, walking to his door. He opened it and there she stood, wearing a black dress and red heels. He assumed she had work and needed a favor before going. “Good morning,” he said.
“Were you following me yesterday?”
Shit.
“I, uh...,” he didn’t know what to answer. He was indeed following her yesterday. He also liked her, so if he straight up said that he was to following her, it’d ruin things. His face was glowing a shade of pink to a slight red as he thought of the right answer. He was still stumbling over his words. “I think it’s kinda cute,” she added. The fuck? “Huh?”. She pushed him inside the house, closing and locking the door behind him. “When a boy follows someone around, it’s because he wants something,” she added, but her tone was so sultry,“Well, Nagito—”. She pushed him onto the couch, leaning in front of him with her hands on his chest.
“—What do you want?”
None of what was happening felt real. Nagito couldn’t find the words to express what exactly he wanted. This was the first time he’d ever been in a situation like this, it wasn’t a bad one either. He began to panic when she straddled him. “Could it be that you wanted me?,” she asked. He frantically nodded and she laughed as she locked her lips with his. He gasped against her lips, kissing back. She slowly trailed her kisses down to his neck, cupping his jaw while grinding on his lap. Nagito moaned, his shaky hands grabbing her ass. She grabbed his hands and put them away from her. “It’s cute that you’re getting this carried away”.
“I’m sorry”
“No time to apologize. Get on your knees for mommy”
Nagito was about to lose his mind when she said that, but he obeyed. Her presence was domineering as he stood on his knees against his carpeted floor. She spread her legs, noticing Nagito desperately trying to get a look. Her red heel stopped him, stepping on his head lightly. “Am I teasing you?,” she asked,“It’s okay to be honest”.
“Y-You are, but its okay. I want to be teased by you”
“You’re adorable,” she took her heel off his head,“Let’s go to your room”.
He practically ran to his bed. He sat and waited patiently. She entered the room, heading to his bed. She began to take off his shirt, admiring his frame. She then unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. He kicked them off and sat down. She sat next to him. “Give me your hands”. She held them, frowning slightly. “Boo, they’re so cold,” she teased,“I’ll warm them up for you”. Carefully, she grabbed his left hand, putting his middle and ring finger in her mouth. She licked to his fingertips, leaving him tense and speechless. She stopped and smiled at him.
“This is your first time, isn’t it?”
He nodded shyly. “Don’t be shy,” she said,“I’m going to guide you, but I’m also going to have my fun”. He gulped, nodded. She stood up and removed her dress. She wore a lacy black bra and panties. She brought his hands to her breasts, allowing him to fondle them. They were huge in his hands. “You like them, baby?”. “Y-Yes,” he muttered,“Can you, uh, take....the bra off?”. He was ashamed when asking, he felt desperate. She smiled and nodded, unhooking it and allowing the bra to fall to the ground. He gasped at the sight of her tits, grabbing them. She straddled him.
“Do you know what to do with them?”
He nodded, rubbing one and sucking the other. She moaned sweetly, grinding on his lap. He popped his mouth off them. That was when she took the opportunity to knock him onto the bed. She began to make out with him, shoving his tongue down her throat. They lay sideways. Her hand was on his neck, slightly choking him. He couldn’t resist but try to grind on her lap. She laughed. “Look at you,” she mocked,“Humping my leg like a desperate little puppy”. She didn’t let him speak, sitting up and pushing him back down. “I’m going to give you what you want,” she whispered in his ear,“Take your cock out”.
He was nervous as he did, hands shaky. She blushed a bit at his size. “It’s so big,” she said, straddling him,“I’m going to have my way with it”. “Please, do what you want to me,” he begged,“Abuse me, please”. She didn’t speak, sinking down on it. Nagito gasped, she was extremely wet. She began to bring her hips up and land straight down on it, repeatedly. She put her hands around his throat, now being rougher. Nagito gasped for air, grabbing her hands.
That was a mistake.
“Hands down,” she ordered, striking him across the face. “Sorr-”. He was slapped once again. “Only speak when you’re spoken to”. He nodded as his stomach began to cave in. His cock twitched each time she slapped him, making her moan. She leaned forward, capturing his earlobe between her teeth. He winced, his hands tangling in the sheets. He felt as though his entire body was blushing.
“You’re so sensitive there”
She teased him, kissing the skin and nibbling. His hips involuntarily snapped upward, making her whine. “You’re so desperate, baby,” she laughed,“it’s so cute”. He could feel her warmth running along his cock. He bit into his hand, trying to stop himself from cumming inside her. It worked, but she didn’t like him doing that. She grabbed his hands and kissed them.
“Don’t hurt yourself, put them right here”
She placed them on her boobs. He watched them bounce up and down, grabbing them gently. His rather large hands seemed small on her tits. He was extremely flushed. He took them off her and placed them on her hips. “Open your mouth”. He lay back more and did as he was told. She leaned forward, grabbing his jaw again as she spit into it and kissed him. He moaned when she did, his urges getting the best to him and thrusting upward. He hit her cervix every time, causing her to produce the sweetest and sluttiest of moans. Her walls tightened around him and now he was whining. “Are you gonna cum, honeybun?,” she asked.
“Y-Yes..”
“Where do you wanna cum?”
“I wanna cum...everywhere. I want it. I want it so bad. I wanna cum inside and on your tits, on your ass, y-your face..mouth. Please let me cum, mommy”
She motivated him, riding him harder. “Come on, Nagito,” she whispered,“Cum for mommy. Cum all the way inside her”. He lost his mind after that, groaning as he shot his load(s) inside her. He was still inside her as he tried catching his breath. She rubbed his chest, shushing him. “Good boy, you did so well,” she cooed,“Such a good boy.” He was covering his face, embarrassed and still hard. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?,” she asked. He shook his head, thinking,“Not rough enough”. He whined when she got off, revealing he was still erect. She noticed.
“You wanna go again, baby? Kids don’t leave school till 2:30. We have time for an extra fuck”
“C-Can I?”
“Yes, dummy”
She let Nagito choose how to fuck her. He wanted missionary, mostly because he craved intimacy and she did not disappoint. She kissed and praised him, telling him he was good. She held onto him the whole time and cuddled him afterwards. Nagito felt so special, he felt loved. “I can come over when I don’t have work,” she said,“Would you like that?”.
“I’d love that actually”
“You make me happy, Nagito. I could stay here and cuddle all day”
“I feel so lucky”
He yawned, looking at the clock. “Its 10,” he told her. She nuzzled his chest, humming. “Mmmm, let’s take a small nap,” she whispered,“Okay?”. “Okay”. He kissed the top of her head and held her to him, slowly joining her in slumber.
548 notes · View notes
deluluass · 4 years
Text
Red, like blood. Blue, like love.
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Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; bullying; soulmates au
Prompt: 88 & 183
There’s someone for everyone, you’d learned growing up.
 "Remember, blue means happy," your mother would say. "The happiest you'll ever be.”
She liked reminding you about this fact— for it is an indisputable truth, every so often when she could still carry you. You’d be hugged from the back, as she recounted stories of first meetings, serendipitous and life changing in their nature; belonging to those who’ve lived long before you, sometimes even those who’ve only lived in tales.
Mostly, your mother loved telling those involving the people she knew. And if you’ve behaved properly, she would tell you about hers. 
Tracing your palm, starting from the forked lines to the dashed ones on your fingers, she’d say, “These would start to glow like stars.”
“That’s weird!” you’d burst out, shrieking a laughter as she tickled you. 
“Listen carefully,” she chastised. “Blue is for your soulmate, okay?”
And you’d repeat: Blue is for my soulmate.
“Then, mama,” you tugged at her sleeves, “What if it’s really, really bright red! Like! Bloody glow sticks! Say, mama, you see, everyone at the park was talking about the man who died because he touched someone and his hand became bright re— ”
You never brought that up again. What your mother said about it had been enough to never make you forget.
“Tell me if you get red,” she said firmly, clutching your arms as if she feared someone would snatch you away from her. “Red is bad, my heart. Red means run.”
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 It hadn’t nearly been as gruesome as your mother made it out to be. 
Case in point, when you turned twelve the couple three houses down your street found out, shortly after their honeymoon, that their palms gleamed a fierce red once they clasped each other’s hands in front of the neighborhood aunties.  
Their marriage ended with a swift and ordinary divorce, a year or so later.
Red: Not just an ominous warning for homicide, then. That was a relief, you’d thought.
Contrary to how your mother framed it, you were thankful, actually. It helped some of your friends escape from potentially hellish relationships. How lucky is it that you lived in a reality where the universe seemed exceedingly benevolent. Though, you sometimes have to question if that generosity extended to everyone.
Fat lot of good it did for you. 
Because, from where you’re standing, it doesn’t have to take some arbitrary and unsolvable scientific mystery to heed that Oikawa Tooru must be avoided like the plague.
Any person in your shoes would be conditioned to do exactly that. 
You’d first met in Elementary. You thought he was the prettiest kid you’d ever seen, with chestnut curls and doe eyes and lashes that swept past his cheeks, and when you’d asked for a hand shake he’d called you “the ugliest girl I’ve ever seen” and “fart face.” 
Recess and lunch were when he’s most fearsome. Spiky burdocks slapped on the collar of your dress; dead lizards in your food; the boy was determined. The worst part was that it always happened when no one was looking. And if someone were, it was his best friend. So when you finally told on him to your mom, both your teacher and the principal simply judged Oikawa as the victim of an attention deprived child.
“Please discipline your daughter,” they told her. “We are all aware of your situation at home, but do ensure that she’s not getting out of control.”
You couldn’t even muster up the strength to defend yourself. In that moment all you could do was swear that you’d never allow anyone to talk to your mother in that way again. 
You moved out of that school. 
You didn’t wait for your palms to flash a warning signal because, somehow, you knew that boys who discover early that they could get away with anything cannot get any better. 
There’d been no way to be sure of that until Aoba Johsai— after a peaceful interim of no Oikawa; no red palm lines (and no blue ones, either).
The proof hit you in the face. Literally. 
“Oi, Shittykawa!”
Heat permeated from your nostrils as you patted your cheek, detached and staring back at the large gymnasium. 
“You hit someone!”
How unlucky did a person have to be to bleed right on the first day of classes? 
You tried to lean forward. “It’s okay,” you slurred nasally, pinching your nose and averting your embarrassed gaze from the boy kneeling next to you.
“Trashykawa! You better hurry and apologize!”
“Don’t be mad, Iwa-chan,” that disgustingly saccharine voice came from behind you, making you flinch, as if the years you’d spent apart had done nothing to purge it out of your system.
In all honesty, you hadn’t really cared for whoever was responsible for the ball that careened all the way to where you were standing, so sure that it had to be an accident. No one in their right mind would want to injure someone they barely knew, especially if said someone is a couple of feet away from you. 
Morally and athletically, it should’ve been improbable. But then you saw who did it and everything made perfect sense.
Iwa-chan. The boy beside you. Iwaizumi Hajime.
If he’s here, then— 
“You,” he whispered. 
“Eh?! Gosh, I’m so sorry!” Oikawa Tooru gasped. “You’re bleeding.”
Time is cruel. It wears down on you, tears you and molds you into something you can’t even recognize, if it decides to. (Fate, more so). You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or laugh, looking at him. If the universe were so benevolent, then perhaps Oikawa Tooru had received all of its favor.
He was beautiful. You’d known this before, but with all the baby fat replaced with sharp yet slender angles, figure lean and imposing even when he’d lowered himself to meet your eyes, Oikawa didn’t seem real.
“I did hit someone, didn’t I?” he pouted, wiping the dried blood atop your lip. “And such a pretty girl, too.”
That volleyball existed should’ve made life better for you. It didn’t. If anything, it seemed that out of the court, when he’s not taking names and being praised like a god, you were his little pastime. Something fun to take his mind off whatever it is he thinks about it. 
The mocking comments, you could handle; every time you’d recite and he’ll interject with something playful and then the entire class would laugh (because he’s Oikawa) and your professor would reprimand him but you could always tell that they, too, are holding in a giggle. 
Those were easy to bear, because although his insults hit way too close to home, it’s just— it’s just so petty.
Really, it’s the aftermath that does the damage.
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“They’re like Christmas lights under your skin!” 
This topic pops up every month or so. Most people your age can be lucky enough to meet their soulmate this early. 
“And it’s the most awesome feeling in the world,” your classmate sighed. “When we touched hands? Man. We just- we glowed.”
Then, the others would poke fun, faking a gagged expression, but they’d always ask afterwards, “What happened next?” And everytime, you’d watch from the sidelines. Like an uninvited audience. 
You tried being a part of it once, wanting to share about the time your close friend met her soulmate. But all you’d gotten were side eyes and titters, as if they were laughing about a joke only you didn’t know about. 
“They’re so mean to you.” 
You groaned.
Oikawa was seated behind you, resting his head against his elbow. Everyone was too busy talking about blue lights and destined souls to notice what’s happening at the back of the room. 
He continued, “Not including you in conversations, treating you like an outsider.”
You didn’t bite, focusing on the opened book in front of you.
“Must be lonely, having no one.”
“Oikawa,” you muttered under your breath. “I don’t have the energy for this.”
The silence that came after that was unexpected. You were sure it would be short lived; he’s just gearing up for more. He usually went at it until you’d have no choice but to physically remove yourself from his presence. You’d thought once that that may be why he does this so much. Maybe he still thought you were the “ugliest girl” he’s ever met and he wants you out of his sight. Because Oikawa’s infantile like that.
But the silence stayed, accompanied by the background noise of eager conversations; lingering some more as white, fluffy clouds passed by the glass windows. 
When he broke it, all Oikawa said was, “Soulmates, huh.”
You felt a finger touch your back, drawing the barest of lines over your uniform. He removed them just before you could stand up and leave. 
You disliked those moments with him. 
You disliked him especially when he played. 
Oikawa’s a monster, be it in volleyball or with you. There are times, though, that you’d notice some things that you think you’re not meant to see. Like after a serve— its impact booming throughout the court, he’d have this puzzling expression on his face. 
It looked like....anger. 
He scored a point, right? Everyone’s cheering for him, aren’t they? Wait, didn’t they win?
You thought maybe it’s the adrenaline making him nastier than usual, but sometimes you’d pass by the gym when he happens to be alone. And that anger is still there, punctuated by the sound of the ball exploding against the floor. Jump. Hit. Spike. Jump. Hit. Spike. He’d do it, again and again and again. 
As if he’s trying to grasp something even he cannot reach. 
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Those instances should’ve taught you that the best thing to do is look away. 
That’s what you should’ve done. Look away.
They lost the Interhigh tournament.
You knew this not because you’d watched, but because for one day, Oikawa Tooru wasn’t your bully. 
The derision was replaced by sulking. He didn’t speak for the entire period. The funniest thing about it was that everyone kept staring at you. Like somehow you’d been the cause of this, when all of them were lamenting the loss just as much as the team itself. 
 What was supposed to be a reason for celebration suddenly became a crime that you had to explain for.
 “Great,” you grumbled to yourself. “One time I don’t have a target on my back, now I’m the bad guy.”
Trash bag in hand, the scraps inside rattled against each other as you stomped to the recycling bin, both sleeves of your P.E jacket folded up to the elbows. You affected a tone, choosing to mock the grating way some of classmates talked:
“Oh, hey, if it’s not too much,” you began. “Can you please be his punching bag again? If you will, can you relieve our superstar’s burdens? By, I don’t know, alluring him into walking all over you? Like the good old days! Please, oh please? We rely on you, oh Great Punching Bag! We Beseech thee, oh Esteemed Doormat! We compel— dude, what the fuck?!”
Crumpled papers and steel and tin cans rolled to the ground. You didn’t pick them up, like you should’ve; you left it there, trash bag lying open, and grabbed the ball that whisked mere inches from your face. 
This time you’re not making the same mistake. The asshole is more than capable of suspending what little morals he has, just to hurt someone he barely knew. As well as athletically adept (an understatement, that) at hitting a walking target; or not hitting it, in this case.  
You stormed the almost empty gym. Oikawa is a ray of sunshine, greeting you with that smile. It makes you want to punch him.
“What is wrong with you?” you spat. 
He chuckled. “Whoops. Sorry!” 
“I’m not having this-” you shoved the ball to his stomach. He didn’t even blink. “This isn’t gonna slide anymore, Oikawa.”
Wide grin still in place, he took it from your hands with his much larger ones and said, “Wow, you’re actually mad this time. ”  
Then, he added, “I didn’t mean it! Honest!” 
Must be nice, you thought with a scowl, to be him. Anyone can be sincere if they look anything like Oikawa. 
“Sure. Fine. No, actually,” you glowered. “You know what?” 
“Hm?” He tilted his head. Oikawa tilted his pretty little head.
You seethed. “I get it. You lost. That doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me. I mean, what did I ever do to you, Oikawa? I have-” you exhaled, surprised by the break in your voice. 
“I haven’t done anything to you. We stopped being kids a long time ago. That shit you pull should’ve ended by now. We’ve grown.” You jabbed his chest. “But I see that maybe not all of us have.”
His pleased expression hadn’t dropped. “Ouch,” Oikawa grimaced, glancing amusedly at the place you’d touched. “How mean.”
This isn’t going anywhere. 
You don’t know why it took you this long to realize this, as you shifted your gaze away from him, noticing the gashes on the floor that tear the surface like scars that never healed. That must’ve been because of him, with the amount of practice he does. 
“It won’t be enough, won’t it, Oikawa?” you whispered. “Not for you.”
The smile that’s been there since you arrived tensed, straining at the corners of his lips. 
“Yeah, I’ve been told,” he beamed. 
He was bathing in his own sweat, seeping through his shirt and matting his hair to his face, and he looks— Oikawa looked tired. His eyes were sunken in, too. Did he even sleep?
You’re so used to seeing him not a hair out of place, with a sweet scent that you amusedly thought lures his gaggle of admirers into following him everywhere. It takes you aback, honestly. Particularly the wobble in his step as he bent and squeezed his knee with shaky fingers.
You don’t think he’s aware he’s doing it in front of you.
Then, just like that, everything seemed to have added up.  
“You’ll never be happy,” you said.
You should’ve stopped there. You should’ve left. Instead, you looked him in those brown eyes, the warm hue becoming a lot colder as he moved closer. 
Oikawa sneered. “And what do you know, huh?” 
(Go. Leave.)
“Nothing,” you told him. “I don’t- I don’t know. Because, I don’t get it.”
(Shut up. Shut up.)
“Why you try any harder, I don’t know. Win or lose, it’s all the same. You’re still the same. You’re still awful and annoying and- and still you.” You laughed, unsure why you’re running your mouth like this. 
“Win or lose. Oikawa is still Oikawa,” you breathed in. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
His teammates must’ve gone somewhere. For lunch, maybe, you thought as you eyed the abandoned bottles and used towels scattered around the court. “Besides,” you huffed, not without a twinge of envy. “They’ll all still love you, either way.” 
Everything went still for a while, and you’d just realized what you’d just said.
“What about you?” 
You looked back at him.
“What?”
He tipped his chin. You stepped backwards. 
He brushed your wrist.
“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he only smiled and wrapped his entire hand around it. 
Oikawa had been your first bully. Before you could even comprehend what that meant, Oikawa had been the source of your mother’s worries whenever she parted with you at the school gates. It is funny, thinking about it, for letting this boy affect you despite making an effort to stay away the first time. 
But it is only now— now that he has a firm hold on you, gentle yet smothering— that you truly feared Oikawa Tooru. 
It rattled your breath, squeezing your heart and refusing air to pass through your lungs, as you felt a shock zap through you. And apparently through him as well.
You broke away from each out with a cry.
Your hand was burning. That’s the only explanation for it. Your hand was burning and any moment now smoke will diffuse from the pores. 
You waited. Any moment now. But the more you stared at it the more tiny spots of flames sparked under your skin, bursting along the palm lines— first, the forked ones; then, the dashed lines— glaring back at you, glowing brighter, blotting and spreading until they mapped your palms then your entire hands like constellations. 
“Red is bad, my heart,” your mother said. “Red means run.”
“I knew it,” you scoffed, shaking your head. 
Well, it’s not as if this is news to you. 
“What about that, Oikawa?” You put both your radiating hands in the air. “The universe is telling us, you and I? We just don’t—”
Why are you crying?
Why is Oikawa crying? 
“I knew it,” he croaked.
Your mother made the red light sound so horrifying for a reason. 
There has to be a reason, too, why the universe is warning you so late into your life. You’d actually ran before. And when you thought it a waste of money, you chose to stay and not fight back; thinking that his punches have become less severe, degraded into verbal taunts that induce social exclusion at most; that, certainly, red doesn’t forbode something as bad as murder, right?
Well, what now? You were wrong, after all. This time you have a feeling that you actually need to hide. 
Because Oikawa’s looking at you like you’re the last two people left in this Earth. 
Just you and him. Without any need for anybody else. 
You didn’t breathe, attempting to bolt despite the overwhelming need to throw up right where you're standing. He stepped closer, faster than you’d liked, and touched your face, caressing your cheek up to your aching temple.
“You should really stop trying to run away,” he said, voice low as if he’s sharing a secret. “I’ll always find you, you know?”
You didn’t have to look to know. Even if you closed your eyes, as well, you know it’s still going to be there; glowing in the darkness behind your eyelids.
“Me and you—” Oikawa sighed. 
Listen carefully, your mother said.
“ —we have a connection that no one else will ever understand,” he said.
The light emitting from his hand was so harsh it hurt you, pricking your sight until it drew fat tears, reflecting against your damp face and tinting the fallen streaks with bright—
Blue means happy, she told you. The happiest you’ll ever be.
And you’d repeat: Blue. Blue is for—
“My soulmate," Oikawa said, before locking you in a deep, searing kiss. 
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The lights didn't die even as he dragged you into the storage room.  
"Hey, where'd senpai go?" 
The rest of the volleyball team came in droves, occupying the hollow court with their squeaking shoes and questions about Oikawa's whereabouts.
"Must've gone somewhere," you heard a deep voice say. 
You could answer that question. All you  had to do was scream. They weren't so far from the room that they wouldn't pick it up over the noise of their volleyball practice. Really, if you needed to, you could even outshout their guttural yells of "Nice kill!"
Though, you'd have to remove the underwear lodged in your mouth first. 
Yours, in fact; soaked now by your own saliva, drool dripping to your chin as your wrists chafed against the rope that's keeping them tied at your back.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" You felt every sickening movement of Oikawa's lips against your throat. "Feels good when you- ah, fuck- when you give in."
With the cloth muting your shrill bawling, you tried your best to recall how you ended up here: seated on his lap as he sluggishly humped himself against you, his still glowing hands cupping your ass.  
The only thing left on your body was your bra, and even that he's already lowered to let your tits spill over the top. Your pants and t-shirt and jacket are lying around somewhere. You couldn't determine where in particular; the only sources of light were behind you.  
He was leaving imprints of blue all over your skin; around your waist as he slithered his hands to reach your breasts, scantily brushing over the hardened nipples and making you keel over.
"So sensitive," he tutted, smooching your neck so gently that even the underwear couldn't muffle your loud yelp when he suddenly bit into the flesh. Hard. 
You wanted to claw his eyes out and call for help and you wanted badly to scream don't do that Oikawa someone please save me he's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me-
But the gag remained intact and the boys outside continued their game, ignorant that their precious captain is taking everything away from you. 
Sharp canines bruised your skin, provoking a fresh batch of tears as he sucked and licked every after cruel bite. 
Then, when you thought the worst had passed, he removed his mouth from your neck to spit onto your bare cunt, allowing it to slide from the hair on your mound to the nub sticking out in the middle.
(It is not enough that he is killing you. Oikawa must defile you, too.)
His fingers gripped the insides of your thighs open when you tried to shut them together. "Don't be a brat," he clicked his tongue.
"Be a nice little kitten for me," Oikawa drawled, smearing the slick that's soaking your folds against the spittle coating your clit.
You didn't notice when he'd taken his cock out, you only realize that he's about to enter you when he teased your entrance with it, pushing the tip to nudge the drenched hole, only to pull it back again.
And you didn't dare look. The feel of it almost stretching you out with just the head is already driving you to insipid begging.
"What'd you say, kitten?" he pouted.
Oikawa you've already taken too much is it never going to be enough Oikawa let me go.
"I can't understand you," he chuckled. "Here—"
He pulled the underwear out of your mouth as he thrust all the way inside, your back arching, driving him deeper, as his cock throbbed against your pussy walls.
"Now, what were you saying?"
You swallowed your cries and heaved and swore you were gonna tear his heart out after this. 
"Say," he whispered, sniffing your wet panties without breaking his gaze. "If everyone saw us right now, how'd you think they'd react?"
It was so reverent, the way he did it, blue light revealing that he closed his eyes as he took a whiff, as if he hung onto your scent like a lifeline.
But you thought that'd been a calculated move, because as you dumbly stared at him, he immediately gyrated his hips under you, rocking back and forth ever so slowly, and you remembered that you had to keep quiet.
His cock was so big inside you, making you bite your lip as it filled you up, the curved tip hitting a spot that has you squirming in his embrace.
"At this point they'll know how much of a whore you are," he said, tangling his muscled arms around yours and anchoring you to his body. "Made just for me."
"Oika-Oikawa…"
You don't know this person. 
"Help..me.."
You don't know who's speaking out and whimpering for Oikawa, on her knees and bouncing up and down on his lap with weak, quivering thighs. 
It couldn't be you.
"Help you?" You felt him nuzzle your neck. "I thought you wanted me to stay away, though?"
Someone mewled out a pathetic, "N-no."
"No? Then what d'you want, kitten?"
(Oh. Oh, he feels so fucking good.)
Your belly has never felt this hot before and it's driving you crazy that you're chasing for something you cannot see and it feels so near but there's something, something that's keeping you from it that all you can do is grind your sopping cunt closer to him.
"Wanna- I wanna cum."
Oikawa kissed you on the forehead, and then he said, "Go ahead, then."
He released your arms. 
Then, he's scooping cum off your pussy, making sure to drag his fingers under the lips, before circling your large, swelling clit. Then, he's sucking your tits and swirling his tongue around a nipple and you're so so close.
"That's it," Oikawa sighed. "Ride my cock, baby."
His rough palm slapped both your ass cheeks and the cry that erupted from you only made him laugh. 
"Make yourself cum on my cock," he grunted, licking his smiling lips as he leaned back against the wall, hand idly rubbing your dripping clit. "You're making a mess, darling. Leaking like that."
You're quivering all over; your cunt is spasming and your legs are complaining beneath you, but you don't stop. You lift your hips and then sink your pussy down, down until you feel his balls touching your sore ass, the sloshing sound growing louder as you move faster. 
You don't think about what this'll all mean later, what you're doing giving in to him, when you scream out his name. But as soon as you did, Oikawa's growl had been your only warning.
He grabbed the back of your head and kissed you, plunging his tongue into your throat, his strong arms pressing you so close to him you can no longer tell his skin from yours, his battering heartbeat from yours. 
You didn't move—weren't allowed to, when he hammered his cock into you, pounding your cunt and fucking you raw until you're breathless and nothing but a shuddering wreck, splitting at the seams in his hands as you feel thick spurts of hot cum slide out of you. 
"My pretty girl," came his hoarse whisper. "My pretty, pretty girl."
The lights have dimmed, when he cradled your shaking form and moved out of you, faint traces left on just the palm lines and fingertips. 
They were flooded by the sudden brightness that enveloped the storage room.
"Holy shit."
You pressed your eyes close, your entire body prickling at Oikawa’s touch.
It shouldn't be surprising, at this point, that Oikawa, as quick as he'd stripped you off of everything, has already covered you back in your jacket. The smell of it striking you ruthlessly, that old cologne that you always use to school reminding you of who you were, before all this.
Had it only been a few hours? It felt like a lifetime ago.
"Ah," Oikawa murmured. "They caught us."
"Oikawa,” someone roared. Oikawa held you, hiding your face against his chest. “Why you son of a-"
"C-coach..! Stop- Oi, someone help me hold him- no, coach! "
You heard him chuckle. “Sorry about this, everyone.” He held up his hand and you had to keep yourself from sobbing. “But, look.”
There were several gasps. 
(Everybody knows now.)
“You..and her?” 
The boy who said that sounded so astonished, clearly overjoyed for some reason, that it revolted you.
“Mhm,” he nodded, a smile in his voice. “Now, can you guys please give us some privacy?” 
Feet shuffled out of the room, along with stuttered apologies. They all left. 
Except for one.
“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouted.
“What did you do, Oikawa?”
A beat. Then, he repeated, “Iwa-chan.”
Please. 
Iwaizumi didn’t say anything. 
Please help me.
“Sure,” he grunted.
He was gone, too, after that.
You were back in the darkness, with nothing but the faltering red and blue on your hands and his, while he untied your wrists and kneaded the abrasion away, cooing sweet nothings to your ear. 
“I hate you,” you rasped. 
“Don’t say that.”
“I fucking hate you-”
“Please stop yelling-”
“I won’t ever forgive you, Oikawa!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he cried, shaking his head as he brushed your tear-stained cheeks with both thumbs. You clutched them, wanting him off you, but he only latched himself firmly into you. “We’re meant to be.”
“You’re the only one for me.” 
Oikawa brought your numb hand to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm, the red light basking him in its soft glow.
“And I’m the only one for you,” he said, intertwining your fingers together. 
The lights flickered in and out, at first, as you stared vacantly into it, the red and blue swallowing each other. Until they finally disappeared, leaving just you and him, curled against each other in the shadows. 
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sunfish-studies · 3 years
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Height
✄・・・ Feathery Ink [Karasuno Manager Series]
➜ Pairing: Karasuno x Manager! Reader
➜ Warning: none
➜ Notes: This is a separate series from Crisp Leaves. Similar to Crisp Leaves, manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall, around 170.5 cm (along 5’7’’).
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↷ SUMMARY ↶
‘Being tall’ is always your current concern, however to them it’s the absolute delight on its own.
From you were in elementary, insecurities about your height haunting you all the way until you reached high school. Boys were mocking about how you look like a giant, girls saying how you were similar to a monster behind your back. Making friends was difficult because most of your classmates were intimidated by your height–you did have a few, but no one to be called your best friend.
Yachi was the first person who accepted you for who you are even though she’s scared of you at first. Seeing how you never take any advantage from others with your height, seeing how heavy your insecurity is, seeing how you didn’t value yourself made her heart twisted. She learned you’re not bad at all, in fact somehow you’re similar with her–in timid aspect.
She thought of you as an anchor for her overreacting tendencies about anything. That and now, she couldn’t be more amazed with your height. You could reach to high places without asking for assistance, thus making you more independent than any other girls.
Kiyoko was impressed by how you stood 4 to 5 cm taller than her. And with you around, managerial duties that needs height on motion was much easier to handle. You both didn’t require any of the boys’ help, so they could practice to their fullest without being disturb by menial things. Aside from that, she valued you as a friend more than anything.
Hinata was extremely enthusiastic about your height. He bombarded you with questions about it, asking if you somehow grew taller, or just plainly showering you with praises. Not once did he find your height difference with him uncomfortable. The boy constantly bragged about how amazing your height is despite being a girl–which made your heart flutter from how genuine he was.
Kageyama was pleased because he didn’t need to strain his neck. Most of the girls he met were shorter than him–looking down was needed to made an eye contact, but now you stood only half-head shorter than he is was much appreciated. That and if he wanted to whisper something to you or the opposite, he didn’t need to bend too much. He was outwardly showing that he’s comfortable in engaging conversations with you.
Similar to Kageyama, that’s how Tsukishima and Yamaguchi felt. Tsukishima was somehow a tree and having the top of your head stopped right on his cheek was quite a feat. Girls were usually stopped on his shoulder or even below it. He might not look like it, but he also appreciated the not-so-big difference of height between you and him. Not that many girls that could balance his height after all. Yamaguchi sometimes following your figure, eyes glowing in amazement. The fact that you could balance your height with them was amazing. Whenever you felt uncomfortable in your own skin, Yamaguchi immediately noticed and went to compliment you about it. Not to worry he will always be there whenever you need a few words of comfort.
Tanaka and Nishinoya worshipped the ground you walk on, what’s new? Their manager is tall like a model, has a beauty of a goddess, and elegance of a queen (at this point, you knew they were just exaggerating). The never failed to shower you with praises just like Hinata, constantly telling you how beautiful you were, flaunting you to other school, etc. It didn’t even matter if you’re only several centimeters shorter from Tanaka or taller than Nishinoya. Trash talking about you will result death only on their watch.
Sawamura and Sugawara were like a proud parent over your amazing height. Sugawara said it’s a symbol of how you’re living a healthy and well live, something that should be grateful about; meanwhile Sawamura treated you like he usually treated the team, the difference would be he never missed a chance smack your waist whenever you slightly bend down to decrease your height. He loves seeing you stand up straight and challenging his height.
Asahi almost bursts into tears the moment you come to him without feeling intimidated. He knew part of it because of your height, standing a few centimeters shorter made it easier for you to have conversation with him. Asahi could relate to you the most because you two have similar case of insecurities, which was why he has his time to reassure you about the good things the height you’re having. 
Ennoshita was quick to be over the height difference. It did bother him first, because it’s the first time he’s seen a girl look straight into his eyes without so much as craning her neck. But, he soon learned that it was easier to be-friended with you through it. Sometimes, he would spark conversations after peeking your notes over your shoulder. Then, you both will fall into a comfortable conversation.
Same with Ennoshita, both Kinnoshita and Narita were intimidated at first, however it soon changed–height difference were only numbers. Safe to say, the two were treating you like a friend of their age despite you being a year younger than them–it’s easier to do so because you could stare right into their eyes by just standing normally.
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choibinn3 · 3 years
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GET IT TOGETHER, JUNGWON!!
[ four. O_o Yang Jungwonnie ]
series masterlist
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⋆·˚ ༘ * in which jungwon had meant for that love letter to go to yeri, and not you—her bff. for some reason though, he finds that with each moment he spends together with you he's closer and closer to forgetting all about that damn letter.
luv note - chloe moriondo
WRITTEN PORTION. 1.9k words
btw remember that second hand embarrassment tag?? yeahh....
ps. this is bad, very, very bad and cheesy so be warned (its meant to be, but youll still feel pain lol)
student council room.
Jungwon could feel his hands clamming up, but he instead urged himself to just swallow down his nerves. For the past week he thought the biggest worry he had was his parents and Student Council work.
Not potentially losing friendships and breaking your heart.
"Jungwon? Are you still there?" your voice asked. It was slightly muffled by the door, but still distinct. "I had to tell Hyuka to go back without me."
You, he remembered. He had to fix this. He had known you since you were both in kindergarten, incidentally somehow being in the same classes up until High School. Still, he didn't know you though.
You were closer than acquaintances, maybe a little less than friends, and definitely not more than people with mutual friends. With everything that had been happening since the Student Council election, he had assumed he'd get closer to you naturally. It just never happened though, but he enjoyed your company when he could.
Yeri on the other hand, he was connected with. Being both Student Council President and Vice President meant they worked together often, and he found himself being drawn to her sweetness. He enjoyed their dynamic and their current friendship.
The way they worked complemented each other, and she always found a way to make him smile—it seemed as though her kindness and generosity knew no bounds. Plus, she related to him in a way none of his other friends did.
Late, after class and after hours, they'd both talk casually while doing paperwork. Jungwon's parents were hardheaded and stubborn people, wanting the best for him and yet stressing him out. They were the whole reason he ran for President in the first place.
He couldn't find it in himself to hate them though.
Yeri was the same, and she supported him throughout all the difficult times he went through because of them. She was soft, so level headed, fiercely loyal, and unbelievably pretty.
They had been partners and friends for a little over a month, and Jungwon was sure he wanted to at least try with her. It was young, new and unfurling feelings, it was something he wanted to find out.
Your energetic personality was charming, but that was all it was. It didn't strike his heart in any particular way. Jungwon was almost 100% sure there was no way Yeri would ever date him after this, but he needed to prioritize your feelings currently.
He just hoped Yeri and him could still be friends afterwards though—because being a liar was the one thing Jungwon wasn't.
"Yeah," he called out, "still here. You can just come back in now."
He watched as you nervously peeled back the sliding door of the clubroom, inching inside to peer at him. You walked closer to stand in front of him, and Jungwon smiled in hopes of easing your anxiousness.
You threw one back, although a bit hesitantly. "Jungwon," you started, twiddling with your fingers. He simply watched—wanting to at least let you talk a bit. Crushing your feelings now would be nothing but brutal. "Honestly, I was really surprised with the letter. Do you... remember back in 3rd grade?"
"No? I'm sorry, I'm not good with memories from Elementary School," the doe-eyed boy replied. He was telling the truth, grade school felt like ages ago and he just hasn't had the time to reminisce on childhood memories.
You held your hands up in a defensive manner. "That's fine! Um, you like... Uhh, how do I say this..." You made gestures with your figures, hoping to convey it to him in one way or another. God, this was dumb.
Jungwon observed silently as you laughed at your own stuttering. Endearing, came to mind. That was cute.
In the Council Room and in class, you were always particularly enthusiastic and excitable. Seeing you bashful was a very different side of you for the black-haired boy.
"I sent you my own love letter once. Like, a long, long time ago, and you sort of rejected me? I think."
"You think?" The boy held back a laugh, but quickly composed himself. He wasn't laughing maliciously, just... how could you be unsure of such a thing? "I'm sorry, but I still don't remember."
"Yeah, that's fine!" You nodded, embarrassed from his almost-chuckle. You did not want to seem like an idiot in front of him today. "Actually, I don't remember much either, but you didn't reply to it."
Jungwon gazed at your brows furrowed from trying to think of more words to say, and suddenly he felt a tonne of guilt fall onto him. His expression grew solemn.
Quick, get it over with, before this would get any worse.
"Look, YN—"
He had to shut his mouth almost immediately.
"What I'm trying to say is—!" You took a deep breath. "I've liked you since then! Since years, and years ago," you finally blurted, closing your eyes as to not see his reaction.
"You're the only one I've ever felt this way towards. I thought once I grew up this warmth would just... go away, but it hasn't and I don't think it will. I was honestly going to just swallow it all down hoping I'd get over it before we graduate, but I couldn't. My feelings were overflowing—I just found myself finding more things about I liked about you instead."
Your goal today was to not embarrass yourself, but to hastily tell him you liked him too before sprinting away. It seemed as though nothing was going to plan so far, for neither of you, actually.
Jungwon was left unable to speak from your surprising declaration. You took that as a sign to continue. Whatever happened next was something for future you to panic over.
"I like your dimples, that smile you make when you're passing by strangers in the hallway, and the way your hair falls when you comb through it. You're admirable in everything you do, truly. The way you help underclassmen, the way you always make sure to assist teachers during your free periods, and how you never seem to complain or get frustrated when we make mistakes."
You had nurtured your feelings for what felt like forever. Even when you were technically rejected back then, and even now. At first, you thought that he would be a passing crush from when you were a kid—but he wasn't. He grew into his own so much so that you found yourself admiring his leadership, compassion and thoughtfulness with each day you watched him.
"I like how mature you are, how you still find the time to care for your friends even with Student Council work, the natural way you light up any room you walk into, how I could honestly hear your voice talk for hours on end, how even though we haven't spoken much you still remember my favorite color from when I told you during introductions, I'm rambling gahh, just—all of it! I like all of it, everything about you!"
Everyday of harboring your secret affections for the boy consisted of soft glances during his speeches, wishes to be able to encase his hand within yours to interlock your fingers under the table during meetings, and wantings to be more than what you were to him. It was alright for a while, but it had started to become painful.
All crushes are painful, you told yourself in 5th grade, watching him start to receive confessions from your classmates.
"—I like you! I've liked you since the 3rd grade, and so I accept! I really, really want to be with you Yang Jungwon. Please take care of me!"
They were all painful, but you were given the chance to make yours not. To make your feelings real and acknowledged, to bare yourself in front of him like a vivisection—and you were taking it. Even when you were practically trembling from the embarrassment.
Jungwon was stilled from the shock. Heeseung had already told him of your long held feelings, but hearing it from your mouth while you had your eyes shut tight made him flustered.
How were you able to do that so shamelessly? To be so vulnerable and weak in front of someone? He had to write a whole letter, albeit a bit poorly, and somehow you were able to say it all.
He's received confessions before, felt those kind of feelings, but he wouldn't have been able to yell out those sort of things ever—no matter how strong his feelings were. You were dangerously bold, he thought.
Bold enough to send a bright heat to overtake his cheeks.
You looked up finally after mustering enough courage from his lack of speaking, only to find yourself blinking at a red-faced Jungwon. Oh my God, he's blushing...! YOU did that.
The both of you stood there for a while, thinking the same thought of what is even happening? Is this real, or have I just been in a daze for the past few days? Jungwon's eyes were comically wide and his mouth was gaping, but he couldn't find it in himself to close it.
The thought made you gain confidence all of a sudden, finding the opportunity to do something you had always wanted to do. Quickly and stealthily, you went onto your tippy toes—
and kissed him on the cheek.
Jungwon felt your lips on the smooth expanse of his skin, and smelt your scent from the intimate proximity. It was a chaste gesture, almost no where close to his lips at all, but he heard his heart beating against his ribcage nonetheless. It thrummed in his ears like a drum, and he wanted to whisper for it to stop.
For it to not be swayed so easily.
It was the innocence of such a thing that got to him. Not once had Jungwon held hands, kissed, or even confessed to someone up until now. Of course, you suddenly getting so close and pecking him with your hands balled up would send his heart into a flurry.
The usually put together Student Council President in front of you let out a strangled noise from the back of his throat, the tips of his ears and face becoming rosier. His throat was closing up, God, why was his throat closing up? Not now, please. He couldn't even remember what he was meant to be saying.
You smiled at him, happy to be rendering him to such a state. It was one of the most impulsive things you've done up to date, but you couldn't find yourself regretting it.
This was what those coming of age dramas on TV were describing—it was the start of one of those cheesy, really bad High School romances. Fervent, mushy, uncertain, but so tender it made your heart ache for hours even after watching.
As you retreated slowly, he caught a glimpse of your bright eyes, downcast lashes, and—holy shit you were so close. He could see the particular way you curled your lips.
He had to hold his breath.
Jungwon watched as your expression morphed into one of slight mischievousness, and an inkling of something softer, before you dashed out the sliding doors—
"Wait!
The sudden motion made him gain his words back, but you were already through the hallways with your hand on your bag.
—leaving him with nothing but the memory and the patter of your footsteps. So fast, so much speed, were you in track? The past few seconds were nothing but a blur of confusion and feelings he didn't want felt.
What just... What just happened?
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previous | next - series masterlist
TLDR (but whyy :( pls read it); jungwon goes to do take backsies on his confession, u kiss his cheek, he goes coocoo bananas!!!
TAGLIST; @lumixen @ghjasksdk @atinyyylove @jjikyuu @yjwooon @ncityy04 @tyunni @littlewolfieposts @xoxojayd3n @rosiechaengz @sunshine-skz @youreverydayzebra @hobistigma @plshhhhhhh @lokideadontheinside @alo-ehas @milkycloudtyg @bangtopia
send an ask or dm
i wanted to emphasize how new his feelings for yeri :] if u could guess what this could mean. alsoooo... did u notice how fast this went ? i intended it to be rushed and "in the moment" like it was in the scene hehe
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The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 5
More people said yes to Hannigram, which is good because Will is already involved in the plot and it would be awkward to have him just disappear. Also, I had someone request a Hannigram x reader in my asks. Apologies to the one person who voted no; I promise there will be more solo Hannibal x reader content in the future.
Hannibal decides to that y/n could do with some extra protection, but doesn’t anticipate what she has to tell him.
I have no idea how to make a proper tag list but @deadman-inc-bikeshop and @dovahdokren here you go 
Trigger warnings: discussions of alcohol, victim blaming
“When I saw his face, I immediately knew he had never once experienced the touch of his own hand, let alone that of a woman.” Charissa read out loud to everyone on staff. “Or, that he was buried so deep in the closet he found Narnia, but those two things aren’t mutually exclusive.” 
It was expected to be a slow night, as was normal for an ordinary Tuesday. On nights like those, you could get away with more, like reading a tabloid article out loud for everyone to hear. 
“I can’t believe [F/N] actually went public.” One of the new busboys commented. “What an absolute madlad.”  
“Did you just unironically use reddit terminology in an actual conversation?” You narrowed your eyes at the kid. 
“[F/N], you are making a very dangerous enemy.” An older waitress said, cryptically, from the corner of the room. 
“Who, Jason?” You gestured to the busboy. “What’s he gonna do? Make me cringe myself to death?” 
“You know that’s not who I mean.” She frowned. “I’m talking about Chase Mulvaney.” 
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “He’s not stupid enough to come back here.” 
Charissa made a noise that denoted her doubt. “I dunno, [F/N]. You’d have to be pretty stupid to start stabbing people at a crowded restaurant in broad daylight.” 
“But he was smart enough to get away, right?” Jason asked. “That’s gotta count for something!” 
You and Charissa exchanged glances. Neither of you had the emotional bandwidth to explain white privilege again. Instead, you just humored him. 
“Yeah.” Charissa lied. “He was smart enough to get away, meaning he probably knows better than to come back.”
"You're kidding yourself." A third waitress, who's name you couldn't seem to place, added. "People always say that killers are these galaxy-brained superhumans, but they're not. Mulvaney believes he's divinely ordained, so any thought that pops into his coked-out head is a sign from god."
And so shattered your thin firmament of denial. You made a point to never learn this person's name just out of spite.
“Oh, shit.” You said, trying to hide your genuine fear with a sarcastic voice. “Maybe he is coming back for me.” 
Charissa glared at the two other waitresses, equally pissed at them for scaring you.
"And it'll be your own fault for provoking him with that article." The older waitress said.
"Holy victim-blaming, batman." You mumbled.
“Alright, listen up, y’all.” Matthew announced to the group. “In ten minutes we open for dinner. Remember, if you want to switch shifts with another person, you have to run it by me first. I don’t want to see anybody but [F/N] at the bar tonight, capiche?”
“Yessir.” You saluted him and made your way over to the bar. You’d been doling out your bartending shifts left and right to avoid even the possibility of being cornered by another Freddie Lounds. You were only prolonging the inevitable, though. Eventually, you needed to return to the bar.
You passed the hostess's stand, where Charissa was stationed. Suddenly, you felt someone grab at your arm.
"Fucking hell, dude?!" You flinched violently and your heart rate jumped. "Don't do that!"
"Shit, sorry!" Charissa looked immediately regretful. "But, look!"
You followed her gaze through the window where a fancy car was parked. He leaned against the door, adjusting the cuffs of his dress shirt.
Now your heart was beating fast for a completely different reason. You squeezed Charissa's hand, trying to keep a lid on your nervous excitement.
"I think your luck's starting to turn." She said in a sing-songy voice.
"Yeah, I bet he'll protect me from the Baltimore Butcher." You whispered, trying not to giggle like an elementary school girl.
"Oh, could you imagine those arms around you?" She sighed deeply, her hand firmly against her chest. "I would die."
"Not until he sinks his teeth into your neck." You smirked, gnashing your teeth together.
"I would let him." She rested her chin on her hand.
"Yeah, me too." You agreed.
"I would give anything to trade shifts with you." Charissa groaned.
"Well, you heard the boss." You shrugged, suddenly feeling much better about your assignment. "I gotta stay behind the bar."
"Oh, pobrecita." Charissa rolled her eyes. Underneath the stand, she put up her middle finger in your direction. "Suck a dick, [L/N]."
You walked backwards towards the bar, keeping your eyes on your friend. "That's the plan, baby."
You tried to make yourself look busy. You dared not look at him as he entered the restaurant.
He exchanged pleasantries with Charissa then took his seat at the bar. You pretended not to notice him right away, only to give you an extra second to compose yourself.
"Hi there." You greeted, knowing you'd feel stupid no matter what you said. "Er- good evening."
"[F/N] [L/N], I assume?" He asked.
Fuck, you thought. His voice was dark, low and made your insides tremble. Even though part of you knew he was going to know your name, it still felt so sensual passing his lips.
You realized you had waved to him with your bandaged hand. That's how he was about to identify you so quickly. "Yes, I am she. I mean- her. Me."
Way to go, dumbass. You thought. Now he knows you're nervous and he's going to wonder why.
“God, I need to stop wearing this damn thing.” You said, clearing your throat. “What can I get for you tonight?” 
He was quiet for a moment. "What do you recommend?"
"Well, that depends." You said, pulling your gaze from him and grabbing a few wine glasses down from a high shelf. It was the only way you could maintain your composure.
"On?"
"What you're having for dinner, for one." You said. "And whether or not you're a vulpine tabloid journalist trying to corner me into a dubiously ethical interview. That's also a factor."
"So that's how Miss Lounds wore you down?" He concluded. "With wine?"
You rested your elbows on the bar, filled with an intoxicating confidence. "She tried wine first. Then she tried to get me fired because she asked for chardonnay and I brought her chablis. And when that didn't work, she siphoned my gas."
"I wish I could say that was out of character for her." He looked at you, apologetically.
"I take it you've had your own run-ins with Freddie?" You smiled.
"She's tried to infiltrate my practice multiple times." He sighed. "She's entered my office under a fake name with a recording device in her purse."
"What a sick fuck." You said, before remembering you really weren't supposed to curse in front of customers. You covered your mouth. "Sorry."
The corners of his mouth turned up into an amused smile. "Don't apologize. You're right."
“So you’re a doctor?” You asked, hoping he wasn’t the type to be offended by questions. 
“I’m a psychiatrist.” He nodded. “I used to work as a surgeon, but I find the mind much more compelling.” 
"Seriously, though." You pushed yourself back to your feet. "What can I get for you?"
He eyed the wine menu and then looked back at you. "What is your favorite red?"
"My favorite red?" You placed your hand on your collarbones. "On a night like this, I enjoy a nice, dry Argentinean Malbec."
"In that case," he thumbed through the list once more. "I'll have a bottle of Cobos Chañares from 2016, please."
You smiled. You wouldn't mind taking a sip of that if he offered. "Right away."
You carefully pulled the solid black bottle from its crevice and placed it on the bar. You removed the plastic seal and reached for the corkscrew. The bottle opened with a satisfying pop, filling the air around you with the strong, complex and seemingly contradictory aromas.
You poured a bit of this criminally expensive wine into his glass. He smelled it, then swirled it for a moment before taking a sip.
"Redcurrants and vanilla," he began. "With floral notes that operate with the precision of interlocking gears in a clock. Everything in its place."
"So you're a sommelier and a poet?" You tilted your head and filled his glass. "I'll bet you make women swoon at every corner."
You never had the best grasp on flirting, but even you knew that line was awful.
“Are you flirting with me, Miss [L/N]?” He asked, clearly not too worried about the consequences and enjoying the flattery. “Or are you just trying to get a taste of this Malbec?” 
“Little bit of column A, little bit of column B.” You shrugged. “Though you are as handsome as everyone says, I’ve had my eyes on that wine for slightly longer.” 
You fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. You had just broken the cardinal rule of workplace gossip. Panic reverberated through your body as you tried to break down his unreadable expression. 
Once again, he just looked amused. “I’ve seen those lingering glances, the way you all whisper and giggle. It’s flattering.” 
You felt your cheeks growing hot. “...I see.” 
“If you tell me what they say about me, I’ll let you have a taste.” His eyes bored into yours. 
You paused, trying to decipher exactly what he was offering. Then it hit you. 
“Oh!” You interjected. “The wine.” 
“Yes, that’s what I meant.” He said. “Dare I ask where your mind went?” 
Your cheeks stung from all the uncomfortable smiling. “I’d really like to keep my job, thanks.” 
“Have you never heard of bartender-client confidentiality?” His voice lowered and his eyes found your lips. “Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls.” 
Your insides turned to jelly. He rested the wine glass in his hand and offered it to you. Your hands shaking, you cradled the glass like an 18th century French village prostitute being offered a mug of hot soup. You brought the glass to your lips, the strong, overwhelming smells assaulting your orifices.
You let the wine grace your tongue. You had taught yourself to overcome the sting of the alcohol and focus on the undertones. Your eyes rolled back in to your head and you let out a little noise of pleasure. 
“Christ on a bike, that’s decadent.” You said, gasping for air a little bit. You quickly passed the glass back to him before Matthew could see you. “Thank you.” 
“Now, indulge me.” He instructed, glancing at the fresh pink lipstick mark on his glass. “What do the lovely women of Terroir whisper while I’m just out of earshot?” 
You rested your elbows on the bar and leaned in close. “They say you’re a vampire.” 
Judging by his unchanging neutral expression, it clearly wasn’t the first time someone had made that connection. “Perhaps they’re on to something.” 
“One of our line cooks used to say you were the devil.” You informed him, hoping that was one he hadn’t heard before.
“Used to?” He raised his eyebrows. 
“Until Chase Mulvaney came around.” You instinctively ran your fingers over your bandages, as if to make sure they were still there. It was a nervous tick you’d developed anytime someone brought up that day. “He’s stopped talking about, like, anything having to do with his religion ever since.” 
“It takes a lot to get an evangelist to stop evangelizing.” He refilled his glass. “Do you think he lost his faith?” 
“I heard someone say in passing that it was because he and Chase Mulvaney went to the same church.” You whispered. “But I can’t verify that.” 
“I’d say it’s more likely than a regular customer being a vampire, wouldn’t you?” 
“I wouldn’t trust their word because they made a regular customer into a vampire.” You corrected, hoping he would overlook the fact that you were one of them. “Secrets may stay within these four walls, but they tend to bounce around. It’s only a matter of time before one escapes, and you’d better hope it’s not one of yours.” 
This man must have been an exceptional therapist, because, there you were, baring your soul to him after fifteen minutes and one sip of wine. Occasionally, you were pulled away from the conversation by another customer who had the audacity to also want a drink. But, very few people came to you with the sole intent of drinking on a Tuesday evening. You and the sommelier talked until closing time. 
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss [L/N].” He said pulling out his wallet. “You are as delightful in person as you are on paper.” 
“Thank you, but I never caught-” you said, but stopped yourself. “I mean, you never gave me your name.” 
He signed his name on the paper check, then pulled out a fifty and unceremoniously handed it to you. “Now why would you want to ruin the mystery?” 
“Nothing we say tonight has to leave these four walls, remember?” You grinned and crossed your arms. “Come on, I won’t tell anyone.” 
He took the customer copy of the receipt and scribbled something down on it. He the folded it in half and slid it in your direction as if it contained nuclear launch codes. 
“Join me for dinner someday.” He ordered. “I’ll supply the Malbec.” 
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amoristt · 3 years
Text
Just a Dare | Nathan Prescott x Reader
@trueloveknifefight asked, Also can I request Nathan asking you out?
here u are! i love writing convos w nathan UGH i adore his character.
as always, replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated1 i check all tags and comments <3
wanna support me for just $3? here's my ko-fi!
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The lights were bright, vivid. Almost blinding. They dance LED accents into the reflection of your drink- a dull plastic cup filled to the brim with one part whiskey, zero parts mixer. The taste could bring a tear to your eye but you would be damned to water down such fine alcohol, provided by none other than Nathan Prescott himself.
Music reverberated along the pool rooms walls, laughter and hollers distantly rising with the tempos. Your foot absently tapped to the beat- you were never one for dancing. Never one for parties, either, actually, favoring drinking in the solitude of a small friend group.
If not for Nathan you wouldn't be here at all. Some would say it's a privilege to slip past those heavy doors, entering the dully lit world of the Vortex Club. You mostly just felt like it was all for show. Somehow securing a place among Nathan's friend group, and a good friend at that, it was almost duty to show up. He insisted on it.
So, here you were. Leaning against a wall in a suffocatingly warm, cramped pool room surrounded by a sea of faces you hardly recognized.
That was, until you saw Nathan's face peer through the small break in shifting bodies. You knew him all too well.
Strikingly handsome, equally strikingly pompous. Funny, crude, an absent minded party goer just as much as he was a fireball with racing, incoherent thoughts. A drinker, a druggie. Takes the edge off, he says, but you think he does it to take away his thoughts completely. You felt like his entire life was all edges, never sacred ground.
The poor bastard.
He lures your attention in as he saunters over with squared shoulders, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink when a random student cuts it a little too close. Normally Nathan would make a bigger deal, give him what for, but this time he just shoots the poor kid a menacing glare and grumbles, 'fucking watch it'. He's walking with purpose and intent, you can see it on his face. You must have a target on your forehead as he darts straight over.
When he comes to your side, his own alcohol dripping down the sides of his cup onto his wiry fingers, you raise a brow.
"Something wrong?" You ask, as he takes a spot leaning against the hard wall right next to you.
"Just wondering why you're being so fucking lame over here," He shouts over the music, taking a sip of his drink, grimacing at the taste. "We're all having a good time over at the lounge and you're over here acting like all the other wallflower nobodies."
You roll your eyes with upturning lips. "Maybe I like being a wallflower. I like people watching. I see things no one else does."
"Yeah, okay, fucking weirdo."
"I mean it," You push off the wall and grin. "Look-" You point to a student obviously wasted, drink held high over head while he lets the music take him away. "That guy is clearly trashed- he's having the time of his life. He's gotta be seeing double."
Nathan whistles at his state, taking in the guys goofy smile, half lidded eyes. "I'll bet it's the triplets. I could breathe on him too hard and he'd fall over."
"You should go try it." You tease. He shakes his head and takes another drink.
"Nah, he'll get it himself. Guarantee we'll be dragging him out by his feet by the end of the night." He shrugs. "Or, at least someone will. I sure as fuck ain't staying that long."
You snicker. "What, got a hot date?" Nathan glares at you. "Oh don't tell me," you cup your hands to whisper, a secretive gesture, "homework?"
"Fuck no," He scoffs, and you can just barely see that he's a little more than tipsy now. His pale cheeks dusted with red, the tip of his nose ruby under the harsh lighting. It's also then that you realize he's a little more tense than usual, even despite the drinking. He's standing straight upright, his right hand gripping his cup like a crutch and his left now shoved hastily into his pocket.
He hasn't looked at you dead in the eyes yet.
"So what is it then?" You ask curiously. He shrugs and stares into his cup. You frown. "Bro, are you like, good right now? Do you wanna leave?"
For the first time since he'd wandered over, Nathan looks up at you. His eyes are unreadable, but his composure seems stressed. He shrugs again. Before you can even open your mouth to ask him about his state, he sighs and downs an entire mouthful of burning whiskey. It makes you cringe just watching him.
"Fuck it," He huffs. "Look I got some stupid ass dare to come over here and put the moves on you, okay." He sounds almost annoyed, like it's a hassle for him, or maybe embarrassing. You cross your arms. "I was dared to come over here and try to get you like, to fucking, you know, leave with me, but now that I'm over here I'm starting to think maybe that was a dumbass idea."
"Leave with you?" You say incredulously, a brow already lifting. "You were dared to come over here and try to sleep with me? By our friends?"
"No, no, fuck," Nathan seems agitated now, rushing. "Like a date sorta bullshit. Ask you out." He manages to get it out in almost the worst delivery possible, meanwhile you're just trying to pick out who would put him up to this. Hayden? Victoria?
A laugh forces its way out of you. "Aren't we a little too old for that game?"
Nathan shrugs. "That's what I said but they insisted. Fucking babies. At least make the dare a little more fun than just asking some bitch out. That's like elementary level shit."
Your eyes widen, you scoff. "Excuse me?"
Nathan sputters. "You're not some bitch, I didn't mean to-... Fucks sake, I'm clearly a little drunk right now okay, if you could cut me some fucking slack that'd be awesome."
"Hey man I didn't ask to be a victim of bullying," You tease, and he can't help but laugh. You soften. "Never expected it from you, though of all people. As ironic as that sounds."
"I'm not even bullying you, come on. Don't be a bitch. I even admitted it and everything."
You grin. "Yeah. Gotta say though, I'm a little disappointed."
"Oh what, you wanted to see my moves?" Nathan hums. "You wanted some Prescott action?"
"Shut the hell up." You shove his shoulder, an action that would be a mistake to so many others, but for you, it was welcomed. "I'm disappointed that it was just a dare. I'd probably have said yes if it wasn't. But, oh well."
Nathan doesn't answer for a long moment. First, he stares into his drink, processing. Almost like he hadn't heard that right, or like you were messing with him. It's rare to see Nathan Prescott stunned into a momentary silence. He's thinking, wondering what he should say next. Suspicious that you're just playing with him, hopeful that maybe you aren't.
And, you hadn't been. Truth be told if given the chance you would allow him to take you out for the evening. Show you fancy things, try out something a little more intimate than just laughter and poking fun at classmates together. You enjoyed his presence, looked forward to it at times.
A small part of you had hoped that he felt the same, maybe. Somehow. While grateful that he respected you enough to cut the crap before it even began, you couldn't help but feel a little... Disheartened at the prank. You'd saved your pride by denying him beforehand, but, if it had been genuine...
"So if it wasn't a dare," He began, quietly, barely audible over the booming music overhead. Eyes barely visible in the sea of vibrant lights crashing like waves. "You'd have said yes."
You shrug, trying to play it casual to save your own feelings, just in case. "Probably. I mean, we're already friends. We have fun so it couldn't have been that bad." He nods along to almost every word.
"Well what if we did it anyways." He blurts.
"Did what?"
"Go out tonight. Like, you know ditch this lame ass party and have some real fun."
"You love this lame ass party, and plus," You shake your head in feigned annoyance. "I'm not sleeping with you, Nathan."
He glares at you. "Fucking duh. I'm just saying we can go and hang out somewhere else. This party happens all the fucking time so it's not like we're missing anything."
"But, wouldn't that make me the butt of our friends joke?"
He shrugs. "Fuck em. It was a dumb dare anyways."
"Now it seems like you're trying extra hard to convince me to say yes." You state, and he's frazzled, running lines through his brain to try and save the absolute failure of asking you out. You decide to spare him, take a little leap of faith for yourself. "But, alright. I'm in."
Nathan gapes at you. "You're in?"
"Yeah, why not. I'm not busy right now and if you're not either than," You smile. "Why not. You better wow me though, Prescott. I'm talking a night to remember. Fireworks, dinner by candle light, a serenade. The whole package."
Nathan's eyes light up, but he tries to hide it, rolls those beautiful blues. "Well considering I've had like no fucking time to prepare how about we instead go to the roof and chill out."
You toss the idea around in your head for show. You already knew the answer the moment he asked if you were being serious.
"I mean I guess that would work," You say. "I was looking for fireworks but I suppose that will suffice. Feel free to go tell our buddies their joke may have backfired on them."
Nathan shakes his head. "Nah, don't even bother. They're all drunk and probably don't even remember daring me in the first place."
"Alright then," You push yourself off the wall, feeling your cheeks warm. A flutter takes wing in the base of your chest, your heart picking up just a little faster. You can't stop the smile that graces you as you say, "Lead the way, Prescott."
Nathan does lead the way. He takes your hand into his own, your fingers tracing over his boney knuckles as he drags you through the sea of bodies, out to the school hall and up winding stairs.
You giggle like a child when he struggles to find the correct key on the janitors ring he'd snatched weeks ago just in case, tease him when he almost spills his drink all over himself. Nathan's hands are almost shaking, but you chalk it up to the alcohol. You chalk everything up to the alcohol- his trembling fingers, his red face, a shy, albeit goofy smile resting upon his lovely, angular face.
The night was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the smoldering heat of the Vortex Party.
He looks amazing out under the stars, and underneath the scope of the vast, black sky dotted with trillions of perfect, twinkling lights, you feel at peace.
Looking at him, you feel like this may be the start of something you'd denied yourself the chance of ever even imagining.
Out there, alone but together, hearing the echoes of music mixed with the livelihood of crickets in the darkness...
it truly was a night to remember.
-----------
Days later, you sit atop your desk, feet tapping rhythmically on your chair, typing away at your phone.
"Love the top," A familiar voice pipes, and you glace up to find Victoria standing before you, books pressed to her chest. She takes in your shirt, a nicely fitted long sleeve with a rather low cut v-neck. "Why haven't I see that one before?"
You shrug and set your phone down. "Never got around to wearing it I guess. Not a big fan of V-necks."
"It fits you," She sets her books down at the table beside you and brushes a hand through her hair, making sure every strand is in line. "I'll have to get one myself."
"You know what, you can have it after today," You say, and she perks up in disbelief. "As a thank you for what happened at the party."
That disbelief soon turned to confusion. "...Meaning?"
"Y'know, making Nathan ask me out. He made a whole huge deal about it- said you guys were drinking and playing Truth or Dare of all things. Gotta say, I was a little surprised."
Victoria's brows knit. "We hardly drank at that party, and I wouldn't be caught dead playing Truth or Dare. That game is for kids."
It almost knocks the wind out of you.
They hadn't even been playing in the first place.
As the teacher walks into the room, the first period bell blaring annoyingly over the speakers, you climb off your desk and prepare for the day, hardly able to contain yourself. It hadn't been a dare, after all.
And, you and Nathan's official second date was merely a day away.
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reidgraygubler · 4 years
Text
sounds like sweet talk to my ears (spencer reid/fem!reader)
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Title: Sounds Like Sweet Talk to My Ears
Request: kinda, it was already written but someone asked for it to be posted
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: smut, fluff (18+ CONTENT!)
Content Warning:  age gap between two consenting adults (Reader is 22. So it’s 15 years), swearing, sexual content (fingering, bathtub sex (?), groping, penetrative sex/creampie, hand kink), falling in love with a sugar daddy, mildly ooc spencer, light drinking, Sugar daddy!Spencer, sugar daddy relationship, mentions of under-aged drinking (in the past)
Word Count: 4,507
Summary: Reader and Spencer go on vacation where their relationship develops.
A/N: few things, this authors note might be a little long. And im sorry for that. This was written for a full length fic with mgg as the person. But i have heavily edited it to be for spencer instead. So if there are any weird things, or spencer being way out of character, that is why. Like i said this was originally going to be a full length fic (this was previously written!!), but i have since stopped writing it, i think i have one other part that is right after this, so if this part goes good, i’ll probably post the next part. secondly, this was also written for a friend of mine, who is 22, that is why the age gap is so big between reader and spencer. It was also written an original character, but i tried my best to make it be reader insert friendly (lots of petnames and nicknames)...  someone on my nsfw blog (@reidsprincess​ ) asked about this, bc i found this gif that reminded me of this particular fic. Anyways… thanks for the love! Check out my masterlist! 
~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~
{***}{***}{***}
“This place is beautiful,” I gasped once we were both in the small beach bungalow room. It was more grandiose than the last place we stayed in. The whole place was cozy and comfortable. This was a place I was never expected to be in...
 The front door was connected to the living room, it was a comfortable room, two loveseats, and two armchairs. A flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall across from the furniture. And the kitchen was attached to the living room, separating the two with a breakfast bar and stools. The kitchen itself was better than the kitchen in my apartment. I was jealous of the owner of this home. Flowers and lit candles sat on every open surface.
The kitchen had a set of sliding glass doors, which opened up onto a patio. And that held outdoor furniture, and table and chairs set. Something told me it also housed a jacuzzi, and I was more than excited to utilize that later. The bedroom and bathroom were tuck elsewhere, but I had a feeling that it was as beautiful as the rest of the home.
The house sat on the beach. The sand was pure white and the water was perfectly blue. I couldn’t wait to run and play in the sand. As childish as that sounds… I’ve never been to the beach, so this is all new to me.
“Spencer,” I looked behind my shoulder and at him. He looked down at me with a smile as he set the luggage down on the ground beside him.
“How about,” Spencer pressed his lips to my ear and whispered. His fingers danced across my bare arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I shuddered and smiled softly. “I go run us a bath, while you order food? Dinner with dessert? Champagne?” he offered, dropping his hand to the hem of my shirt. I chuckled lightly and pushed his hand off me. 
“That’s your idea of a perfect evening?” I asked, turning around to face him. “Dinner and a bath?” I chuckled lightly. He was looking down at me; the smile on his lips told me everything I needed to know. That he needed me right now more than I needed him. Although, I don’t think it’s possible for him to need me more than I needed him.
“Any evening with you is a perfect evening,” he whispered, lifting his hand to rest on my cheek. His hand fell down the side of my cheek and rested under my jaw, his thumb rested on the apple of my chin. I grinned as the familiar feeling of butterflies grew in my tummy. 
“Oh you be quiet,” I whispered as I lifted my arms to wrap around his neck. He hummed before pressing a kiss to my lips. I hummed, pulling him down more so we were more so eye level. He wrapped his free arm around my waist and pulled me so I was close to his body. I breathed out a laugh through my nose. After a second, he pulled away from me and kept his eyes on me. “I guess you’re in luck then,” I smiled, placing my hands on his cheeks.
“How so?” he whispered, pressing his face into my hands. I smiled and went onto my toes.
“Because our perfect evenings sound very similar,” I whispered and pecked his lips, “Every evening with you is perfect,” I smiled before walking away from him.
“What… What are you doing, Sunshine?” Spencer asked in a complaining tone as I walked towards the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder at him as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.
“Dinner?” I waved my phone in the air, “What do you want?” I looked back at my phone and smiled.
“Whatever you want will be fine,” he came back up to me and kissed me again before going towards the bathroom, “Bubbles?” he called before stepping into the bathroom. I laughed as I pressed my phone to my ear.
“You know me so well, Spence!” I smiled and sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. I looked around the kitchen and living room, taking in the beautiful decor. I wonder how he knew about this place...
I quickly ordered food before finding my way to the bathroom. And, the bathroom was just as impressive as the rest of the house. One wall was just a window that faced the beach. And a large white bathtub sat in front of the window. A shower was tucked in the wall, just so it was out of the way, but even that was beautiful. And of course, it had a toilet and sink. 
“Do you… Live here?” I asked, watching as Spencer was filling the tub. “Or like… Do you own this house? I mean… This is just. This is a beautiful house,” I leaned against the counter and looked at him. He stood up from the tub and looked at me. 
“Sometimes…” he paused as he looked around the bathroom. Sometimes? How do you sometimes live somewhere? “On the very rare occasion, when I have time off… I take my mother down here for a week. She loves the beach and the ocean and the sand in her toes,” he smiled as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt down. Okay, I guess that makes sense. “You order dinner?” he asked, resting his hands on the counter beside me. I looked up at him and nodded.
“Yeah, yeah, dinner’s ordered and on its way here,” I nodded and rested a hand on his chest. He quirked an eyebrow and smiled softly.
“What’d you order?” he rested his hands on my waist. I smiled and cocked my head to the side, allowing his hands to wander up my sides.  
“I’m sorry, it’s a surprise. I don’t want to tell you,” I smiled at him. Spencer wrinkled his nose before kissing my forehead. I let out a breath of air and shrugged. “You’ll find out in 20 minutes. You should save some space in the bath for hot water,” I poked his nose before sneaking away from his arms. He grasped my wrists and pulled me back so I was in front of him.
“Where are you going?” he asked, looking down at me. I flashed my brightest smile and shrugged.
“Champagne,” I batted my eyelashes. Spencer laughed and nodded. “You still want a glass or do you want to get in the bath now?” I offered as I walked back towards the kitchen. 
“As always,” Spencer followed behind me. “I’ll grab a bottle, you get the glasses?” he asked, going towards a mini wine cooler. I nodded and opened a cabinet. I opened a few before finally pulling out two glasses.
“If this is your mother’s place, why aren’t there any photos of your family?” I asked, leaning on the counter as I sipped my beverage. Spencer turned and looked at me, leaning across from me on the counter.
“We rent it out on season.” He replied, looking down at his glass. I nodded.
“What does that mean?” I asked, feeling mildly stupid. He looked at me with a smile. “Sorry. But you gotta remember that I’m an elementary school teacher’s assistant… Who's poor. I have an apartment that I can barely afford… Not two houses, one of which I rent out.” I pointed out. Spencer laughed and nodded. “Or did you think I was just sleeping with you for fun,” I leaned over the counter to kiss his lips. 
“Hurt,” he placed his hand on his chest in a mockery of hurt. I smiled at him and cocked my head. He looked back at me with a small smile on his lips. “Basically, when we’re not here, we rent it out… But we don’t have too many people staying here,” he chuckled before sipping his drink. “As for sleeping with me just for fun? I didn’t know it was just for fun,” he pouted. I smiled and shrugged. 
“Can’t forget about that paycheck too,” I smiled at him and winked. Spencer looked at me with raised eyebrows, causing me to laugh. “And, I think the fun is just an added bonus feature…” I laughed, throwing my head back. “I thought what we were was just money and sex? Nothing more,” I whispered, leaning on the counter. Spencer looked at me and shrugged.
“It could be more than that,” he smiled. I lowered my glass to the countertop and stared at him.  I could feel my lips trying to pull into a smile, but the longer I stared at him, the more I wished this wasn’t a dream. Because that’s all it felt like when I was with him. A dream.
“Surely… You can’t be serious, Spencer,” I whispered, finally looking away from him. Spencer lifted his hand and rested it on my cheek, carefully turning my head back to look at him.
“I’ve never been serious like this before, Sunshine. And, please, don’t call me Shirley,” he whispered, poking my nose. I smiled and leaned over the counter again, kissing his lips. 
“Only if you’re serious, Spencer. I understand you’re a busy man yourself, with all that saving people with the FBI,” I whispered. He nodded, keeping his hand on my face. I wasn’t exactly sure if he was being serious, mostly because he’s a bit older than me and most people my age (and his age) don’t take such a big age gap.
A knock on the door caused us both to look that direction. I looked back at him and smiled. “Oh no. What’d you order?” He asked, watching me bounce towards the front door. I pulled the door open and met the delivery man with a smile.
“Thank you very much,” I smiled and took the food and pressed the door shut. “I got pizza because I really wanted pepperoni pizza,” I looked at him as I held the box up. Spencer laughed and nodded as he grabbed the two champagne glasses and bottle.
“I’m okay with having pizza,” he smiled before taking the lead back to the bathroom. I held the box in a tight grip as I followed behind him. “Although, I never pictured pizza to be a fancy dinner before a bath,” he looked over at me with a quirked eyebrow. I laughed before I sat on the ground.
“I mean, you are the one who put me in charge of ordering dinner,” I looked at him, watching as he sat on the ground across from me. He sat against the cabinets of the sink counter. I shoved his food towards him and smiled. “It just shows we have two different tastes. I mean, remember the first night we met. You ordered room service for steak and chicken alfredo,” I pointed out as I pulled my food out of the bag. “I’m a simple woman. I like pepperoni pizza,” I smiled at him.
“I think I’ll put you in charge of ordering food more often,” Spencer smiled at me as he went for a slice of pizza. 
“I think that’s a good idea,” I grinned. “I’ll be sure to eat quick. I’ve never been so ready for a bath in my entire life,” I spoke as I moved to sit closer to him. 
“Take your time. We have all the time in the world, Princess,” he smiled as he sipped his champagne. I felt my face warm up a bit as I looked away from him. Something about the petname he has for me just gets me going, and I love it. He definitely knew that too, that I loved the petname of Princess. 
“Glad to know that,” I giggled as I looked at my mostly-empty glass. 
{***}{***}{***}
“More champagne, Princess?” Spencer’s voice was low as he held up the bottle that was now mostly empty. I lolled my head back onto his shoulder and rested my elbows on his knees (I was sitting between his legs in the bath) and held up my glass. 
“I would love more,” I whispered, watching him pour too much into my glass. I hummed happily, telling him it was enough. He placed the bottle back on the stool and wrapped both arms back around my body. The bathwater was warm and matched with how much booze I was drinking, I knew I was beyond intoxicated. I’m sure Spencer’s presence only fueled that feeling. No, it 100% added to that feeling. I knew that. And, he knew that. He knew he had a way with me that no other man would have, or ever have even.
“You should pace yourself, Princess,” Spencer whispered, pressing his lips to my shoulder. I giggled before sipping my drink, telling him I shouldn’t. His breath of air fanned over my skin as he began pressing kisses to my neck. 
“You, Spencer, should stop giving me alcohol,” I looked up at him as best I could. He smiled and kissed me again. “Besides... you’ve had just as much... as me,” I spoke through tiny hiccups. Spencer chuckled and rubbed my shoulders before pressing his lips back to them. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as the unknown tension slipped away. Damn his touch.
“Okay, that’s fair,” he murmured into my skin. "However, I've been drinking for sixteen years. You, Sunshine, are only 22 and have only been drinking a year,” he stated like I would follow the rules. I held back the cackle that so desperately wanted to escape my lips. Me? Follow the rules?? Never ever… This should be a fun thing to tell him.
"True… But I have been drinking since I was 18," I smiled and nodded. I sipped my champagne as I rested my head back on his chest. Spencer made a sound of disapproval which only made me laugh. Oh yeah, that’s right… Under aged drinking is illegal… and he is an FBI agent...  “Okay, since when have you known me to follow the rules? I’m dating a man 15 years older than me,” I pointed out. 
"Oh, you naughty girl." Spencer playfully scolded me. I pouted before humming again.
“Yes, but I’m your naughty girl,” I laughed, arching my back a little bit. I felt his hand travel from my stomach and to my thighs. I hummed as I got a little more comfortable for what he was about to do. “Starting early,” I teased. Spencer let out a breathy laugh. He gently pressed his lips to my throat, right on my pulse point. I gasped lightly as he parted his lips and sucked a spot on my neck. I held my glass just outside of the tub. 
“I’d rather have champagne in the bath than champagne and glass on the floor,” he kept his voice low as he pulled my hand back over the bath. I laughed and shook my head. “Is this okay,” he asked as his other hand traveled a bit more upwards, towards me.
“It’s always okay,” I whispered, taking a deep breath of air. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if Spencer could feel and hear it. 
“Let me take this,” he spoke, taking my glass from my hands. I let out a sound of protest as he took my glass and pressed my head into his chest. He chuckled as he placed the glass on the stool beside the empty bottle. “You can have it back,” he spoke in a mocking tone. I pouted and dropped my head to my shoulder. “In a minute,” he added, his tone becoming a little bit more smug. I rolled my eyes and let out a huff of air.
“Fine,” I whispered. Spencer chuckled again and placed his hand back on my thigh. I hummed happily and looked up at him. “Do you have to be such a tease all the time?” I pouted at him. He smiled and shrugged before dragging his hand closer to my center. 
“Could be more than a tease,” he replied in a whisper. I rolled my eyes and let out a deep breath of air. I carefully lifted my foot out of the water and rested it on the ledge of the tub. “Oh no, you’re gonna get water all over the floor,” he scolded.
“Oh no,” It was my turn to mock him. I smiled as I waved my foot in the air. Spencer hummed before pressing his lips to the side of my head. “A little bit of wet never killed anyone,” I snickered. Except, that snicker became a gasp when he pushed a finger past my folds. My eyes fluttered shut as my jaw stayed slack open. I pressed my back into his chest, feeling his arousal on my lower back. I nearly slipped under the water if Spencer hadn’t had his other arm around my waist, holding me safely against his body.
“Calm down there, Princess,” Spencer laughed as he held me up. I glared over my shoulder at him. “Don’t need you slipping under the water. I think you’re wet enough,” he added as his finger slowly circled my clit. My hands gripped the side of the tub and then moved to rest on his knees. 
“I fucking hate you,” I muttered but moaned towards the end of my statement. Spencer laughed as he pressed his lips to the side of my head. His other arm was pressed against my chest, keeping me still as I wiggled and writhed under his touch. A breathy moan fell from my lips as he picked up his pace.  
“No, I don’t think you do,” he whispered, keeping his lips close to my ear. My eyes fluttered shut as I dropped my head to the side. Spencer took this as his chance to press kisses across the space behind my ear, causing me to gasp lightly. Spencer hummed, pleased with how I was reacting to any sort of his touches. 
I lifted both my hands and gripped his arm as he slowly eased a finger into my center. I pressed my nails so hard into his arm, I wouldn’t be surprised if come morning he’d have crescent-shaped bruises there.
A man like Spencer who has hands as beautiful as his, he clearly knows what he’s doing. It’d be a sin if he didn’t. A loss for all of womankind. I guess that’s why I’m so pleased that it’s me under his hands right now and not a different girl. I quite literally love his hands, and the way he can just work his magic with his fingers, getting me going in a matter of minutes. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a magician. 
“You alright, Princess,” he asked, keeping his tone low as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of me, curling them just right. I hope the gasp I gave was a good response because I don’t think I knew words right now. My brain was getting fuzzy, and my belly was starting to grow tense. Like a coil deep within me was about to break. 
“S’close,” I mustered out. I swallowed roughly as he began rubbing my clit with the heel of his palm. My whimpers, gasps, and moans weren’t evenly timid as he picked up the pace, finally pushing me over the edge. 
I was a mess. There’s no other way of putting it. But, I’m always a mess when I’m with him. 
Spencer slowly withdrew his hand from between my legs and placed it over top of his other arm, embracing me like his life depended on it. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing. A giggle fell from my lips as I threw my head back against his chest. Spencer hummed as he looked down at me.
“I love your fucking hands,” I turned my head and looked at him. Spencer smiled at me and laughed before pulling his hands off me to look at them. I took one of them in my own and looked at it, entranced by his veins and freckles peppered over the backside. It felt right for his hand to be in mine.
“Thank you… I guess. I think that’s a compliment,” he mused as he placed his arms back over my chest and kissed my cheek. “You good?” he asked, his thumbs rubbing my shoulders.
“Yeah, I’m gonna go dry off and get water. Better see you in the bedroom.” I smiled at him. He pressed another kiss to my face before allowing me to get out. 
“As you wish, Princess,” he smiled at me as I grabbed a towel. His eyes lingered on me for a moment as I wrapped the towel around my body. “I’ll be right behind you,” he added as I grabbed our glasses and empty champagne bottle. 
I smiled at him as I left the bathroom, making my way across towards the kitchen. True to my word, I got a glass of water and drank half of it in one sip. I grabbed a second glass and retreated back towards the bedroom. 
Spencer wasn’t finished in the bathroom, I could still hear him splashing around in the water. I grinned and shook my head as I stepped into the bedroom. I placed the two glasses on the nightstand. I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to finish. 
Not even two minutes later, Spencer entered the room, towel around his waist. I stared at him, my eyes lingering on his shoulders, down his arms to his hands, before flicking to gaze upon his belly and torso. I felt my lips twitch as I stood, leaving my towel behind. He smiled as I basically sprinted up to him.
I placed an open mouth kiss over his lips, putting my arms around his neck to pull him down to my height. I could feel his grin against my lips as our noses smooshed together. His arms wrapped around my waist as he brought us to the bed. 
“You’re so eager, Princess,” he muttered against my lips. I hummed as I threaded my fingers through his hair. That action elicited a moan from his lips, making me smile. He gently pushed me against the bed, standing at the foot as I got myself to lie at the pillows. The way he looked at me told me he was pleased with how the night was going to end. And honestly, I understood. 
He dropped his towel from his hips, letting it fall to the floor, before kneeling on the bed. I took a deep breath as I stared at him, keeping my eyes on my face. I knew if they wandered any further, I’d become a puddle right there. Well, more of a puddle than I already was.
Spencer smiled at me as his fingers ghosted my legs. He gently placed a kiss on different parts of my body as he made his way up to my face. The bliss I felt was unexplainable as he grasped one of my hands and kissed my lips. 
He looked down at me, a small smile on his lips. My chest heaved as my breathing picked up once again. The kisses he pressed to the swells of my breasts made me feel like I was floating. That, or it was the softness of the mattress and bedding beneath us. 
“You ready for me, Princess?” he asked, pressing a knee between my legs, separating them so he could fit comfortably between them. I licked my lips and nodded, keeping my eyes on his. His nose twitched as a smile grew on his lips. He brought a hand to rest on my cheek. “I need to hear you say it,” he leaned close to my ear and whispered. 
“Yeah, yes… I’m always ready,” I swallowed roughly and nodded. Spencer pulled his hand from my face and moved it to my hip. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him close to me. He smiled and kissed my lips, a simple distraction as he pressed his cock into me. The breath in my lungs was knocked from me, causing me to loud gasp. Spencer smiled against my lips. 
“You feel so good, Princess,” he groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder. It took a minute for either of us to move, adjusting to the feeling of each other. “Ready,” he asked, moving to place his forehead on mine. I swallowed and nodded, bringing my hands to rest on his cheeks. 
A smile twitched on his lips as he slowly started to move his hips. At first, it was an unsure rhythm but slowly grew in a slow and meaningful pace. His hands roamed my body before wrapping around my torso and holding me close. 
“Faster,” I panted, pulling my hands from his face and knotting them in his hair, again. He nodded, picking his pace. A familiar feeling in my belly, the coil winding, returned. The groans that fell from Spencer’s lips pushed me closer. 
“You’re doing so good, Princess,” his voice was low and rough as he spoke. 
I pulled a hand away from his head and brought it between our bodies. I began rubbing my clit, pushing me closer to the edge. Spencer’s thrusting grew more erratic.
“Come with me, please,” I whimpered, keeping my arm around him. He nodded and groaned as I clenched around him.  After a moment, we both became a mess. Moans and gasps of each other’s names filled the silent bedroom. 
Spencer stayed put above me for a minute, his arms around my body and holding me close. We took our time coming down from our shared high. A whimper escaped my lips as he pulled out from me and collapsed on the bed beside me.
“I got you water,” I panted, vaguely gesturing towards the two glasses of water on the nightstand. Spencer chuckled as he reached for a glass. I watched as he drank the water, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. I smiled at him, keeping my eyes on him. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. “You’re right, I don’t hate you,” I swallowed roughly and shook my head.
“I know I’m right,” he looked down at me with a smile. I rolled my eyes and watched him get off the bed. I furrowed my eyebrows and sat up. “I’m always right, Princess,” he looked over his shoulder and at me. I smiled and nodded as I got off the bed. 
“So much for taking a bath,” I rolled my eyes as I felt our mixture roll down my legs. “I’m gonna shower,” I smiled at him as I walked towards him. He pecked my lips and nodded. 
“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he poked my sides as I grabbed for my towel. I squealed and shook my head. 
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I smiled at him.
taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​
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bloomingjungwon · 3 years
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soap ☾ lee heeseung
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𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: here is first installment of the melanie martinez inspired fics! pls enjoy my lovely flowers!!
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst
washing your mouth out with soap; the symbolic meaning of "cleansing" after saying something you shouldn't have. you should've kept your feelings to yourself and held your toungue. you're now in a situation where you want to wash your mouth out with soap'
listen here
fifteen years of friendship. something you and heeseung had shared in common. from your awkward elementary days, to experiencing the uncomfortable change of puberty, and being there to witness each other’s “glow ups”, you’d say heeseung and you have been through thick and thin.
for you however, it was a painful friendship, but you never told heeseung. after realizing you were most likely in love with him in middle school, you just kept it to yourself. it never seemed to cross his mind anyway; the fact you could have feelings for him.
and that’s what made this friendship so painful. the fact that it was only a friendship. the fact that heeseung only saw you as a younger sibling. he only loved you platonically, and you knew it. you knew it deep down but never wanted to believe it. you’ve begged yourself multiple times to push your feelings aside for the sake of this friendship, but it didn’t hurt any less when you saw him with another girl. so you made it a mission to rid your feelings.
for a while, it worked. you stopped seeing heeseung as a love interest and got yourself a boyfriend. all was going great until you started imagining your boyfriend as heeseung. the way you’d rather have heeseung’s fingers interlocked with yours. the way you wished it was heeseung holding you from behind.
and over time, that’s how all your relationships ended. you’d fall in lust over and over again, just for you to end it because all you could think about was heeseung. you hated yourself for that. while you’re over here trying to maintain a relationship, heeseung had no problem with the girls he went out with.
laying down on your couch, the same thought played like a broken record in your mind. should i tell him how i’ve felt these past years? with the gut feeling of knowing how he feels about you, you knew the situation could end bad, but you hated the uncomfortable thought in your head. stressed and ready to pull your hair, you sat up and grabbed your phone off the table.
heeseung, i’m coming over in ten minutes.
alright, let me know when you’re here.
as best friends, it was normal for the both of you to just drop by whenever, whether one was busy or not. taking advantage of this, you made your way over, same thought still playing in your mind. it probably isn’t the best for you to be driving with your mind all over the place, but you wanted to settle this once and for all. just throw it all out. before you knew it, you were parked in front of his house,
one big breath in, and one big breath out. you texted heeseung you arrived and headed out of the car. sixteen footsteps. that's how many it took you to get to his front door from your parking spot. you’ve been to his house so many times, the amount of steps became a routine to remember. however those exact same sixteen steps you seem to always take seemed longer than usual, your anxiety eating at you and making the walk feel like a mile.
heeseung was already at the door before you could even knock. silent nods were exchanged and you let yourself in. out of habit, you dragged yourself to his bedroom, him following. you laid down his bed, staring and burning holes in his ceiling.
“is there something you need or are you just here because you’re bored?” he said after breaking the silence.
even more silence. all your thoughts threatening to come out of your mouth. god i feel like throwing up. i feel it coming out my throat. “i have something to say.” you said, barely whispering.
“do share.” he said, arms crossed and leaning against the doorway. you prepared yourself, and sat up, reverting your eyes to the floor. you refused to make eye contact with him.
“i think… no. i know, im in love with you. i have been. always have. it’s always been you heeseung.” you managed to blurt. he continued to stare at you, daring not to say a single word. the silence was killing you, threatening you more to spit out all your words.
“all those guys i’ve dated, i’ve never felt love with them. for months, i kept imagining them as you, and i know it’s fucked up, but i guess that’s what love does to you. i don’t feel the same way with them like i do with you. and maybe i’m being biased because i’ve known you all my life, but i wake up everyday and my first thought is you. i’m constantly thinking about you when i’m not supposed to. i see something and immediately think, “heeseung would love or hate this”. my heart feels like its been punched millions of times everytime i see you with another girl and i can’t help but wish that was me with you.”
tears fell down your cheeks, rolling down to the floor. you counted each one. nine of them have fallen. have you been speaking that long or were you just crying too much? with all your will, you finally looked up to him. his face said it all. this was not going to end well for you. shit, i said too much, it overflowed. why do i always spill?
heeseung whispered your name. “i don’t know what to say. the only thing i can think of is i’m sorry.”
although you were expecting this, it didn’t hurt any less. “you know i love you, platonically. as if you were my little sibling. it’s just how i’ve always seen you throughout my years of knowing you.”
“you don’t need to apologize. i just.. i just needed to get this off my chest because i couldn't hold it in any longer.” you stood up. “i think i should get going now. thank you for listening to me.”
heeseung wasn’t sure if putting his hand on your shoulder was a good idea, so he refrained himself from doing it. “thank you for telling me. i’ll walk you to the front.” he said. “it’s okay, i can do it myself. bye hee.”
with a sad look of pity, he replied “bye, and again, i’m sorry.” you cringed. stop apologizing, it makes me feel worse. without looking back, you made your way to the door.
sixteen steps. sixteen dreadful steps to make it to your car. you started your car and mindlessly drove around and until you were in a secluded area. turning off the car you pulled your seat back to lay down. you began to silently cry, cursing yourself for letting your feelings get in the way. you felt worthless, hurt, and dirty. i wish i never spoke. now i gotta wash my mouth out with soap.
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dulceackles · 3 years
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How much salt can ants handle / Victoria De angelis
Requested: no 
summary: as the night sets y/n finds herself suffering with anxiety. However, she gets a call from victoria who takes her on an adventure beautiful enough to ease her racing mind and a broken heart.
Pairing: Victoria De Angelis x reader (she/her, third person)
word count: 1.7k
content and warnings: angst, tw anxiety
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In a dim light the room looked heavy. Like the walls might stumble and the sealing might fall. In a dim light of her bedroom, y/n felt her mind touch the rye needle. The art of taking things easy was something y/n had never learned. In her mind, she didn’t know where the world ended or who loved her. A lot of the time what she knew was only the crooked feeling of her own skin tightening around her like a rigid corset or her breathing getting stuck in her throat. And so t was that night too. 
She couldn’t tell what were the big things so she made the big out of them all. And the future full of big things made itself terrifying to a small human. Y/n got up from her bed. She had been trying to sleep thoughts away but what didn’t come as a surprise, head full of disasters was hard to sleep with. The cold floor felt piercing underneath her bare feet. Slowly she walked to the old sofa sitting in the back of  her living room. 
Sometimes she made a list in her head of all the bad things that could happen. And after that, if she was ever ready, she made a list of all the bad ways she could react to the bad things happening. A lot of the time it felt like the birds didn’t arrive at the glow of spring or like the sky never cleared. She knew most of her fears were irrational, stupid as someone would say. Still, everything stopped them from going away. She wished that maybe when she was older it’d get easier but more than that she feared they never would. 
Corset, that was her skin was. Then what sounded like a firework in the silence, her phone rang. She looked at her phone screen with her tired eyes. It was Victoria. A million bad things could have happened for her to call y/n at night, atleast that’s what y/n thought but as she answered the phone, she heard Victoria’s warming voice. 
"Hi," her voice was energetic like it wasn't midnight at all. "I hope I didn't wake you up."
Victoria knew y/n ralely slept at those hours. Many times they had been texting at two o'clock in night, wishing time would stop and night would last little longer. And y/n loved that about her, that like the sky was for mountains she was always there for her. Over the last year that she had known her she had grown feelings towards her she was too afraid to admit outload.
"Oh no, i was awake." Y/n muttered to the phone her voice still slightly shaking and she wished Victoria wouldn't notice. She wasn't feeling great but Victoria defendly had snapped her out of her own stormy mind.
"I can't sleep, I think I took a little too long nap at 5 pm but I also heard there's a blood moon tonight," Victoria explained herself from the other side of the line. "So wanna come to watch it with me? To the swing?"
The swing was the place Victoria had showed y/n the first time they ever met. They'd been drunk at friends' party and the story had taken elsewhere and so the two girls had found each other on this forgotten field with only the threes and one old swing.
"a blood moon?" Y/n asked.
"Yeah. Thought i'd be pretty cool." Y/n could only imagine the expression Victoria had on her face. Sometimes she got really excited over spontanious things and y/n never wanted to be the one to ruin it.
"Sure let's go." Y/n said to the phone. She was pretty happy about getting outside the dark apartment she had been rotting in for the past few days and feeling all the emotions she didn't want to feel.
"Good cus im already at your door." Victoria laughed.
“What?” Y/n trots to the window on her left and as she looks down to the apartment front, she indeed sees the light-haired girl with a big smile on her face under the street lights.
Y/n chuckles a little bit, "alright, I'll come down in a sec."
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There was only one store in the whole tinpot sleeping town that was open during the night and even though it meant a little longer walk, the girls were certain the moon could not be watched without a family-sized pack of chips.
The greenish-yellow drugstore light flickered over them as they searched the stacks from those one specific brand of cheap flavored chips they had grown found over mainly because it was what they always bought when they were together and it was night. It had become this unwritten rule that where there was night, food, Victoria and y/n, the food was these chips.
“I swear to God if they don't have them.” Victoria already blustered until both of their eyes snatched into the orange pack with pretentious font over it.
"There!" Both of them yelped at the same time causing the tired-looking cashier to glared at them like he was about to kick them out simply because the girls were too awake for him to have them in his store at that time of the night but then again, he hated drunk party people more than he hated night owls.
Victoria and y/n grabbed the chip back and ran to the cash register like there was only one second left. And how could have they known but as the chip back flowted on the black assembly line, y/n felt as if maybe there was.
" thank you!" Victoria thanked the cashier as she grabbed y/n's hand and began to hasten out of the store.
Victoria's shoft hand felt electric on y/n skin. Sometimes it almost slipped from her mouth that she wished Victoria's hand would never leave hers or more so that no stranger's hand would ever find Victoria's. But of course over anything she wished as an endlessly burning sun that one day Victoria would hold someone's hand that maybe was stranger to her but a lover to Victoria. Sometimes she wish it could have been her but something behind her eat whispered to her that prehaps she was the worst thing Victoria had ever gotten attached to and that's why it never slipped from her month.
The moon indeed was red that night. Hanging in the sky it shimmered the earth with its red cast. The dirt underneath their toes rustled as they finally reached the swing.
"Take a swing, I'll see how many chips you can catch." Victoria said as she opened the chip back and prepared herself to aim at y/n's month.
Y/n giggled. She maybe had played the game last time in elementary school but she also remembered being good at it.
Y/n pushes herself into the swing and launched herself forward, trying to get into the best speed possible.
The rough old rope felt foul against y/n palms as she holds onto the swing and Victoria tried to throw chips at her but quite frankly, in the dark y/n couldn't tell at all where the chips were flying at.
"This was harder than I remembered." Y/n laught as victoria waved her hands.
"Did you catch any?" Victoria giggled. They both knew this was dumb but it was the best part of it.
"No I mean one hit my face and that was the closest one" y/n stopped the swing from swinging.
"Damn. Well, the ants gonna have a diner party tonight then." Victoria walked closer to y/n and sat on her lap to the swing. A lot of the times they just came to the swing to sit and talk and because there was only one swing, they quite often also tested the ability and streight of the old ropes holding the swing on the tree.
"Not sure how much salt the ants can handle tho." Y/n said as she wrapped her arms around Victoria.
"Me either, maybe not at all." Victoria said as she watched the moon over them. "It is red indeed." Victoria signed.
"Yeah, it is." Y/n could smell the sweet smell of her soft hair. She wanted to lean her head against her neck but resisted because what she thought was prevailed to exposing the truth that she thought she was hiding.
"You know what else was red? Your eyes when you came down the stairs." Victoria got up and turned to face her. "So what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Vic." Y/n let her cold hands fall to her lap.
"I also know when you lie." Victoria crossed her arms, eyeing y/n who still sat on the squeaky swing.
Y/n just stared right back of her. She didn't really know what to say or how to express what was wrong. In a way, she hoped she'd understand or that she'd know how she felt when everything felt big and the sky was falling. But she also feared she was a blue burden and so she didn't know what to say.
Victoria signed. It spiked y/n's heart because she didn't want to make her frustrated or angry with her, she just didn't know what to say and she didn't feel brave enough either.
But what came to y/n as an suprise, Victoria leaned little bit forward and pressed her warm lips againgst her fraught onces. Victoria's lips felt soft against hers and her tongue slowly traced her lips. It was tender sweet and y/n heart race and blush rose as she tasted Victoria. Y/n lifted her hands to gently pull her closer and Victoria slightly smiled into the kiss of how into it y/n was getting.
Soon Victoria pulled away, leaving y/n swollen lips. She looked up to her and Victoria gently run her thumb over y/n's lips before sitting back into her lap and wrapping y/n's arms back around her.
"When you feel like talking just tell me." She said as she watched the moon that was just as red as was her heart. "I truly believe you'd feel better if you sometimes talked to someone."
Y/n nobbed, and then she wrapped her arms tighter around her snuggled her head into her neck.
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capsironunderoos · 3 years
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The Art Teacher and The Winter Soldier - Part One: Morgan Stark’s Secret Plan
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Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Summary: Some stories about Bucky Barnes and an art teacher...
Word Count: 2,061
Warnings: None! Although there are spoilers for Falcon and The Winter Soldier if you haven’t finished that!
Author’s Note: Hey hey! I’m finally writing and posting again! I recently graduated from college with a degree in art education, and I just thought it would be cute to see Bucky Barnes date an art teacher, so here we are! This isn’t going to be a normal series, just kind of little snapshots of Bucky’s life with an art teacher. Also, this series follows the events of Endgame and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, except Tony lived, other than that it’s pretty much the same. I hope you enjoy! 
Here’s a link to my masterlist: capsironunderoos masterlist
“Captain America, The Winter Soldier, Scarlet Witch, and Iron Man walk into an elementary school… sounds like the start of a bad joke.” 
Bucky heard Sam mumble beside him and felt a smirk make its way onto his lips. 
“I thought the minivan was enough for a bad joke,” Bucky added, and Sam had to cover his mouth to hide his laughter, a startling cough erupting from his chest. 
Tony had asked a few of the remaining Avengers to go with him to the opening night of Morgan’s elementary school art show since Pepper had been scheduled for a meeting. 
Morgan’s work had been voted on by the other students in her grade and selected as the best in kindergarten, which didn’t surprise Tony. The Stark’s were always the best at everything they attempted. 
Tony had wanted to invite everyone he knew, but he was under strict instructions from his daughter that only a few could come. 
The girl in question sat contently between her Uncle Sam and her Uncle Bucky, small right hand gripping onto Bucky’s left, as her left hand held a small bouquet of flowers. 
Her smile grew when she felt the minivan take the familiar right turn into her school’s parking lot, and she strained to make herself taller to see the brick building slowly getting bigger as Tony pulled the car into a spot. 
Tony turned the car off as the Avengers piled out and onto the concrete, Bucky turning back to offer his hand to Morgan. She quickly grabbed onto it and jumped out, giggling as she almost dropped the flowers. 
“Here,” he gestured to the flowers, opening his hand. “Let me carry those Moe.” She nodded and handed the flowers to him with no hesitation, leaving his side to run to Tony, who turned just in time to catch her and lift her above his head before propping her onto his hip. Her giggles echoed across the parking lot, and Bucky noticed a few people shooting smiles their way. 
“You comin’ Buck?” Sam called, already climbing up the stairs into the school, and Bucky smiled in response, jogging slightly to catch up with the group. 
“You guys are gonna love it here!” Morgan called from the front of the group, still holding onto her dad as they walked into the building. 
Wanda glanced over at Bucky and Sam, stifling a laugh. 
“Yeah, you two will fit right in.” Bucky smiled and rolled his eyes, and Sam lightly shoved her with his elbow, causing her to let out a small giggle. 
“Alright kiddo, lead the way,” Tony prompted as he placed her back onto the ground. Normally, this would cue a few moments of whining and begging to be picked back up, but she was focused on other things tonight. 
Yes, Morgan Stark had a plan. 
She walked proudly down the decorated hallways, making sure to point out the artworks her friends had made as she marched the small group of Avengers to her artwork. 
Bucky was quiet as they walked, stopping every now and then to look at a few pieces done by older kids. 
He was easily reminded of Steve, and their time growing up in Brooklyn. 
He thought about the journals he’d buy for Steve on his birthday, or a new art material he’d see in a shop while out for a walk that he couldn’t help but buy. Steve would have loved this, would have been right at home talking art with the very animated five year old leading the group. 
Bucky smiled to himself as he began to move with the group again, not missing the various drawings of superheroes plastering the walls. He knew he wouldn’t find himself here, immortalized on paper by a child who saw him as a hero, and his smile drops, but only for a second as he sees Morgan stop before throwing her hands up and screaming. 
Tony jumps to find out what’s wrong, but before he can squat down to her level she is running full speed towards a woman in a skirt with polka-dots all over it, and when she turns to see who is screaming Bucky can see that her shirt reads “Your greatest work of art is you!” He smiles at the sentiment and watches as Morgan launches herself into the arms of the woman, who is now crouching in order to better receive the hug. 
The force of a very enthusiastic five year old knocks the woman onto the floor and she laughs with Morgan as they part. 
“Hello to you too Morgan!” She says through more laughter and Morgan waves, now seemingly shy as she steps back beside her father. 
Tony moves into action now, extending his hand to help the woman off of the floor. She graciously accepts, and Bucky notes the shy smile that washes over her features. 
“You must be the art teacher we hear so much about,” Tony says as she lightly brushes off the back of her dress. 
“Yes, that would be me! And don’t worry, I know who all of you are,” she adds, her smile widening as her eyes meet each Avenger’s. Bucky feels himself starting to blush when her gaze lingers on his for just a bit longer than his counterparts. 
“Even if I lived under a rock it’d be hard not to know who you were. Morgan talks about you all the time, and she tells quite the story.” Tony laughs and lightly ruffles her hair, to which Morgan responds to by swatting at his hand. 
“You’re telling me. I ask her to tell me bedtime stories.” This cues a round of laughter from the group before Tony turns to each member. 
“Well, just to be formal about it, I’m Tony, and this is Sam, Wanda, and James,” Tony says, and the woman shakes all of their hands, making sure to tell each one how wonderful it is to meet them. 
When she slips her hand into Bucky’s, he wonders if she feels the small jolt of electricity that he does, but he ignores it as she smiles at him. 
“Please, call me Bucky,” he tells her, and that same shy smile rests against her lips as she nods. He’s sad to let her out of his grasp, but even he knows that it would probably be weird to sit and hold her hand. 
When she turns back to Morgan after telling the group her name, Bucky catches Sam staring at him out of the corner of his eye, and Wanda too. The duo are standing in similar stances, arms crossed over their chests with their eyebrows raised at his actions. When Morgan has pulled her teacher out of ear-shot, Sam turns to Wanda and takes her hand before dramatically mimicking Bucky. 
“Please, call me Bucky,” he chirps in a lovesick voice, and Wanda gasps as she places her hand over her heart. “Oh, Bucky!” She adds, and Bucky can feel himself blushing as he pushes past both of them to catch up with Tony and Morgan. 
He tries not to smile as he hears their laughter trailing behind him. 
When they catch back up with Morgan, she is proudly standing beside her artwork as Tony is bent down to take a picture of her beside it. 
Bucky smiles, shifting the bouquet of flowers he still holds from one hand to the other as he watches the scene. 
His heart stops though, when he sees the drawing.
 It’s… Him. 
Morgan drew him. 
He remembers the picture the drawing is supposed to resemble, remembers standing very still as Morgan tried to figure out how to use her new kids camera. She had yelled “Don’t move!” each time he tried to shift his weight so that his knees weren’t locked for too long. 
“She was prompted to draw someone she looks up to,” he hears quietly beside him, and the voice of the art teacher pulls him from his thoughts. Bucky turns to her in disbelief, and he sees that she is smiling up at him. 
“I think she picked a pretty good subject for that prompt,” she adds, and Bucky can feel his breathing becoming shallow as he holds back tears. 
He slowly walks over to the drawing to get a better look, and he sinks to his knees, a tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. 
“Uncle Bucky! Why are you crying?” Morgan asks beside him, and all he can do is wrap her in his arms, dropping the flowers on the floor as he squeezes her to him. She giggles but wraps her arms around him too, before wiggling in his grasp to reach for the flowers on the floor. 
“Here, give these to my teacher, they’re her favorite!” She whispers in his ear and he nods. This kid could have asked for a trip to the moon and Bucky would have built the rocket himself. 
He quickly wipes the tear off of his cheek, turning to take a picture with Morgan beside the artwork at Tony’s request before standing and listening to Morgan’s teacher as she begins to speak. 
“I know you probably already know this, but Morgan is very advanced for her age. Most of the other students in her class completed this project in a day, but Morgan worked on this for a few class periods. She even drew from observation, using a picture she brought in. I don’t normally teach that until fourth grade.” 
A moment of silence passed as the group of Avengers stood in awe of the little girl before them. 
“Here, let me take your picture together before you go,” she offers, and Tony gladly hands his phone over to her. The group bends down around the artwork, making sure to keep it, and the artist, in the center. 
“Thank you all for coming,” she adds, as she hands the phone back to Tony, who in turn thanks her before leading the group back out of the building. 
Bucky stands still, watching for a moment as Morgan turns around to wink at Bucky, gesturing to the flowers in his hand. 
Her plan was in motion. 
“Bucky? Is everything okay?” He hears behind him and he turns to see the art teacher, standing with her hands clasped in front of her, a small look of concern sewn into her eyebrows as they arch together. 
“Yes. Sorry, um, I think these are for you. Your favorites, so I’ve heard.” Bucky states as he hands the bouquet over to her. Her face lights up at the gift, and Bucky smiles as their fingers ghost over each other as the bouquet is exchanged. 
“Oh, thank you. And tell Morgan I said thank you as well.” 
Bucky nods and starts to walk away, but finds himself stopping and turning back to the art teacher, who is already looking at him. 
“Hey,” they start at the same time and Bucky laughs as he nervously slips his hands into his pockets. 
“Would you wanna, grab some coffee some time, or something?” He rushes out, and the smile that erupts on her face makes Bucky’s heart speed up. 
“Yes!” She squeaks out, and her excitement catches both of them off guard. “I mean, yes,” she adds, composing herself, which makes Bucky laugh again. 
“Here,” she starts, pulling a pen hanging off her lanyard into her hands and balancing the flowers under her arm. 
She gestures for Bucky’s hand and he holds it out to her. She glances up to him and he blushes again, quickly pulling off the glove. She smiles and grabs his hand, clicking the pen as she carefully holds his palm open to write her number down. 
She pats it gently when she’s done. 
“Just… text me, okay?” She whispers, smiling up at him before releasing his hand to turn to a parent who’s just walked up, flowers still held in her right hand.
---
The ride back to the compound is relatively quiet, until Morgan catches her Uncle Bucky looking at a string of numbers written on his hand. 
She taps his shoulder and he looks at her as she gestures for him to lean down so she can whisper in his ear, “My plan worked! You’re welcome,” before leaning back against her seat, arms crossed and a look of satisfaction playing on her lips.
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