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subwaysurf45 · 27 days

Text

The Cafe

Pairing: College!Bucky x Reader

Words: 6k

Warnings: nothing really (except for the fact that I haven't posted in like a year lmao), alcohol, self-doubt, etc...

A/N: don't get used to this...just an idea I managed to finish.

The first few times you were seen in the campus cafe it was when you were by yourself. You must have been completely unaware of the constant nail biting or when your neck would let your head fall forward in discouragement, all the signs that you were stressed flew under your radar.

As Bucky Barnes stood behind the cash he looked over his customers should to see your head fall forward once again, the third time since his shift started fifteen minutes ago…not that he was counting. He knew it was a problem when the customer he was serving looked over their shoulder, not understanding what Bucky was looking at.

He’d watch you go from sitting completely still to your finger flying across the keyboard with a new idea, as if you were rushing to write it down before the idea slipped through your fingers. When you’d hit your groove, not looking away to grab your coffee mug provided by the cafe, Bucky took it as a sign to tone down the stairs to see if you were okay.

With your headphones on and music blasting the hairs on the back of your neck didn’t stand up like they normally do when someone was looking at you, truthfully, you had caught the barista looking a few times but you had no idea that wasn’t even the half of it.

Bucky was truly hypnotized by you, and he had no reason to be. Maybe it was the insane work ethic that blew him away, always by yourself with headphones on your laptop open. Maybe it was the way in which you talked to service workers, always adding a please and thank you no matter the service you got. It didn’t help that you were beautiful in his eyes, he could stare at you for hours, taking in your attributes as if he was being tested on it.

His stomach always twisted when he saw you pack up after a few hours. Part of him wanted to go up and talk to you, maybe offer another cup of coffee to keep you there for longer. But he knew that it was selfish, and creepy. He’d always dreamed of following you out of the cafe and asking you out, or even for your name…probably the name would be the first question. He felt like he knew you before ever really conversing with you, but the moment you left and vanished from view out of the windows he was reminded time and time again he did nothing, just staring and holding back.

********

“Welcome to another lecture everyone,” Dr. Fury spoke from the front of the room, you were already set up with your notes, hands hovering over the keyboard due to the speed at which he talked. He was an amazing professor, you’d tell people, but he couldn't help how fast he talked when he was in the middle of lecturing.

“I thought you were going to skip,” you whispered to Wanda as she sat down next to you, rushing to pull out her notes. It was only one minute past the class start time and yet Dr. Fury was beginning his lecture, “why can’t he talk about his weekend for like two seconds,” Wanda whispered as she opened up her laptop to a black screen that stayed that way.

All you could do was laugh before taking out your charger, “there you go.”

Wanda just looked at you with an apologetic smile, “you are a lifesaver, this and the notes you let me borrow,” she thought for a moment, “let's get coffee, let me buy you a coffee as a moment to thank you for our friendship.”

You giggled quietly to yourself as your fingers began to type, “I’ll never say no to a coffee, but you don’t need to always pay me back, you know I have your back.”

“I know,” Wanda quickly responded to not annoy the students surrounding you, “but just let me, okay?”

All you could do was nod with a smile on your face, a small warmth bloomed in your chest as you took a moment to reflect. You had a good friend with you, one that you’d want to keep for a while; especially if she likes to buy you coffee.

When the class finished you stayed back to ask Dr.Fury a question about a topic that didn’t make sense in the lecture, Wanda was going to meet you at the cafe after her meeting with her biology professor. Dr. Cho held weekly tutoring sessions that Wanda found extremely helpful.

Before you could fully make it out of the lecture hall you felt a tap on your shoulder, when you turned around a semi-familiar face greeted you. Something was off about the individual but you knew you knew them. Even though you didn’t really remember the boy, you smile wide.

“Hey,” he said quickly, “I love your sweater, did you see them live?”

Your eyes lit up, “yes I did and thank you,” without thinking you grew coy, “it was like a religious experience, I love live music,” you managed to pull a giggle from him. “I know this sounds so rude but I know you but I don’t at the same time…” you trailed off with a squint.

“I work at the cafe?” it was a question, “I also have a class in here right now so maybe-”

“James, I didn't even recognize you without the hairnet and apron oh my god how stupid of me!” Your face grows hot, your favourite barista compliments your sweater and you forget who he is. “I am so sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” he quickly waved his hand, “I know, the uniform becomes a part of you at some point,” his eyes lit up when you giggled.

“I’m heading there now to get coffee with a friend, when do you work next?” you could see in his face for a moment that he was surprised at the question, as if he didn’t fully believe youd care enough and actually go in to see him.

“I work tomorrow, I have a lab due tonight so that’s going to take the top spot on the to-do list,” he bashfully smiled.

“Okay,” you nodded, “then I’ll see you tomorrow, James,” your face grew warm again as you back away, “have a good class.”

“You too,” James said before biting his lip, you just had your class, idiot.

But you just giggled and left. Didn’t point and laugh that he couldn’t flirt, didn’t care to point out his heavy blush the entire time he spoke to you, didn’t make fun of him when he let his true thoughts show on his face.

Bucky sat down at a seat, he placed his hands on his face to feel a radioactive heat still burning hot. He knew he’d be completely out of it the entire class, how could he focus on molecular genetics when all he could think of was the girl he was hypnotized by talking to him; nevermind asking about when his next shift was.

“Why are you sunburnt?” Sam asked the moment he sat down, Steve joining Bucky on the other side.

“Shut up,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

Sam whipped his head to look over, “oh that’s not a sunburn, that’s a blush!” Sam poked his shoulder to be a nuisance, “I forget how red you guys get it’s hilarious,” Sam laughed to himself, “who got you that flustered?”

“Ended up talking to the girl from the cafe,” Bucky muttered, the seats around him were filling up and the last thing he wanted was to have a group therapy session with everyone in his class about the girl who finally talked to him. “She’s as sweet as I thought.”

“Oh you’re a goner,” Steve shook his head, “invite her to the house party, maybe she has a friend she can bring to make it less obvious, you guys can talk there.”

“It’s too soon,” Bucky shook his head, “I’m not doing that.”

“I think you should, even if she says no at least she actually knows you want to see her again, maybe get to know her.” Sam dropped the joking tone and got as serious as Steve, the two of them could see how much he liked that girl. “What did she say to you?”

“I just complimented her sweater, I know the band and I know they were just on tour, she-...” his words got caught in his throat when he realized inviting her to the party wasn’t a stretch, “she asked when I was working next…”

Sam facepalm, “because she wants to see you again…” The mocking tone came back, James honestly preferred the devil-angel situation with Steve and Sam instead of them both getting serious on Bucky. “But no of course, it’s too soon.”

The class started and Bucky barely took any notes, he was thinking of you at the cafe with your friend. His mind wandered to all the terrible outcomes of you going to the party, any outcome other than him getting with you - or even speaking to you. Both Sam and Steve knew Bucky was not looking for another notch in his belt, being raised by a single mom gave him a unique view of women; including the mommy issues.

********

Bucy Barnes had never made so many coffee’s wrong in one shift. Everytime the bell rang on the door to signal a new customer, he’d look up to see who it was and somehow mess up a pour or leave the milk to steam a little too long. He’d never admit to anyone how high he got his hopes up, he’d think how pathetic he was and miss his pour, landing hot coffee onto the back of his hand.

His shifts were long and he felt like you knew that as well, there would be times during midterm season where you’d out-last him at a table while he worked his shift. Part of him always wanted to stay back, not knowing how long you stayed; he wouldn’t be surprised if you had walked yourself home in the dark more than once.

Bucky was in the middle of an order when the ball rang again, his eyes shifted slightly when asking for the customer's name - his stomach dropped; you actually showed up. Not that he would ever think you wouldn’t show up but the anticipation was over.

Seeing that he was busy you waved with a big smile, raising both eyebrows as you found a table. Once he finished his order and began working on the coffee he took his time watching you, seeing how you set everything up before getting your coffee.

“Totally didn’t expect to see you here,” you spoke softly as you walked up to the counter, “how’s the shift been?”

Bucky smiled, “pretty good,” while he was thinking of every time he messed up thinking of you, “pretty slow as well which is always nice.”

You giggled, “I’m glad to hear, can I just get my usual, please?” you pulled out your wallet.

“Of course,” Bucky punched it in, a simple order that was always the same. “Anything else?”

“No, that’s okay, thank you!” you smiled, ready to pay.

This is your moment, do something.

“Come on, let me get you something to eat, on the house?” he pointed to the small treats they also sold beside him, definitely not as popular as their drinks but he knew you’d be here for a while, who wouldn’t want a little treat?

He could see you grow coy again, tucking your chin into your neck like you did yesterday when he complimented your sweater. It was as if you didn’t experience this often, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. It occurred to him at that moment that you might be as nervous as him, maybe guys being interested wasn’t as often as he thought, especially someone as beautiful as you.

“What have I done to deserve that?” your voice has grown so quiet.

“For starters, you’ve always been extremely polite whenever you order, you’d be surprised how many people think we’re robots,” hearing the giggle he pulled from you made his heart soar, “and because you deserve it, you’ve been studying here forever and you deserve a little recognition, a little something - I don't know…” Maybe he gave too much away, maybe you were thinking to yourself how he knew how often you studied, maybe you weren’t as interested in him than he thought.

“Chocolate chip muffin, please,” you beamed and all the worries washed away, “that is so kind, James, you just made my day.”

Before he could say anything, even correct you to use his nickname, the door blasted open. In that moment all the confidence he accumulated dissolved right between his fingers. All he could think was oh no as he saw Steve and Sam burst through the door. To think he was actually about to ask you to come to the house party, to think he actually made progress with you, all torn up in one moment.

“Bucky!” Sam shouted.

Bucky stood still as you looked over your shoulder to see the two men attempt to squeeze through the single door at the exact same time. He could see your brows pulled tightly together, the way you were so thrown off by the loud call in a semi-full and semi-silent cafe.

“I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered before the two men managed to approach the cash.

All you did was smile at James, realizing whatever condolence you offered would be heard by the two guys approaching. You quickly paid and stepped to the side, thinking they just wanted to order next.

“Hey, Bucky,” Steve said, “how’s the shift?”

“So great,” Bucky deadpanned as he made your coffee, looking over to see you trying to cover a smirk.

When he placed your coffee down you reached out quickly, managing to brush your hand against his. “The muffin?” you whispered, not wanting to further embarrass him in front of what you assumed were his friends. “Thank you again, that was really sweet,” you said as you picked up the plate.

“She got a free muffin?” Sam whined, “you never let me get anything for free.”

You stood there giggling, “maybe don’t almost break down the door when you walk in and see people studying,” you shrugged, “just a thought.”

Not wanting to entertain any longer, you walked away, back to your little spot in the corner. Once your headphones were on you began to work, toggling back between tabs as you worked on your paper. The one thing you learned about James when you worked here was that he was a very focused guy, rarely ever did you see him standing around or slacking off. There was always something going on behind the counter, he was always busy.

As you worked you could see the two men who barged in slowly shrink into themselves, you could tell James wasn’t very happy, which is a first. Part of you had to agree, it was a very cute moment. Being told you’re a memorable customer that has an impact took you out of your normal routine. Most days were the same, it would have you thinking late at night what was it all for?

Moments like that, when you’re gifted with a free muffin by someone who makes you smile almost everyday. It was now retrospectively obvious there was something else under this offering, which was why James was so upset. To say that James was harsh on the eyes would be a blatant lie. He was a very handsome guy but to you he was someone working a job that involved a customer service persona.

After yesterday, seeing him in his element, you realized that persona wasn’t just so he could pay his rent; he actually enjoyed the moments with you as much as you enjoyed them with him. But it was spoiled in a way, a way you thought was left in high school.

You didn’t even notice when the two boys left, the bell ringing for another customer that rang right when a song faded out brought your attention up, seeing James smile to the customer walking in. You let yourself pause to think for a while, working through what your next paragraph would cover, but an all too familiar habit began to roll out as you watched James work behind the counter.

Who the hell is Bucky?��

He was James, that’s what his name tag said. In what world did James logically connect to Bucky, it must have been some inside joke or story you obviously didn’t know. It never occurred to you that he was someone else to others, you had realized how repetitive you have been, how robotic.

“Hey,” James slid into the chair in front of you, scaring you half to death, “sorry.”

You slowly slid your hand off your chest, reaching over to music at the same time. “Don’t worry,” you smiled.

“Sorry about my friends earlier,” he couldn’t look more sincere, “they always do this, like, always.” you just laughed, understanding how annoying this was to him. “So I just wanted to say sorry, I don’t know if they made you uncomfortable or anything.”

“Not really,” you shook your head, “I’d like to remember the moment right before that instead.”

This seemed to take him by surprise, “me too,” he spit out, making sure to keep you on the same page, as if this would never happen in his wildest dreams. “Also,” he paused for a moment, “those same,” he sighed, “those same guys are having a house party this weekend and before they crashed in I was going to tell you about it, I don't know if parties are your thing but I thought if you were looking for one…we could maybe, y’know,” his eyes got lost, he was losing confidence, “see each other when I’m not working, as actual people, you know?” His voice was pitched up, his eyes squinting.

You were nowhere close to a party monster in your mind, most weekends you stayed in, sometimes with Wanda, and just chill. The week ate away at you and left you too tired to even think about getting ready, pregaming, going out, so on and so forth. But you were tired of feeling robotic, this was the time to live it up.

“I’d love to go out this weekend, I can't remember the last time I was at a house party, honestly.” you looked out the window to think but couldn’t remember the date, just drunk memories that didn’t make sense now. “Do you mind if I invite my friend, I promise she won’t keep me to herself but I think she’d love a party.”

James quickly agrees, “yeah, of course, of course, no worries, Invite whoever because I know for a fact those two-” he couldn’t find another word, “-idiots want some rager, I don't know.” All he could do was laugh, “so bring whoever.”

“Since I’m going I need to make sure they let me in, will they kick me out if I ask for James? Who’s Bucky?” you laughed and sipped your coffee, slowly pushing your laptop screen down a bit to show your attention.

In a moment you saw his face grow red, he tried to cover it with his hands but to no avail. “That would be my nickname, so happy you noticed,” he said sarcastically, “my middle name is Buchanan, so of course my childhood best friend- the blonde one -shortened it and somehow it has stuck all these years.”

“You don't seem to be happy with it?” your hands clasped under your chin to hold your head up, your eyes squinted as you studied him.

He tilted his head back and forth, “I mean they’re my buddies so I can see why they would call me by my nickname but y’know, I don’t mind James…” his face grew red again, “especially when it comes to you.”

It was your turn to grow warm, covering your face as well. “You are such a flirt, first the muffin, now this,” you giggled.

“First the compliment, really, I had never seen you outside of the cafe before, I wanted to make an impression,” he said after a while, “now I feel like I’m spilling all my secrets,” his eyes met yours quickly, “I just-...” he sighed, “I feel like I can just talk to you, I don't know.”

“I’m glad,” you smiled, “because you can, and I’m very excited to see you this weekend.”

All he could do was smile to himself, “me too,” he drummed on the table a few times before looking at his watch, “sorry, even though I could keep talking I only had a fifteen minute break,” his thumb jerked over his shoulder, “I gotta get back.”

“That’s all good, I’d never get my work done,” you grabbed your headphones again, “wait, I need to know how to get there, the party,” you clarified.

“Right, okay,” James looked over his shoulder, the pen he used to write down expiry dates on the dairy products was clipped to his apron that he still had on. With the clean napkin you grabbed for your muffin he quickly scribbled down something, “I’ll see you Saturday night, okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded, watching with a smile as you see him get right back into working. You slid the napkin towards you and saw his number, followed by the address of the party. Knowing you, you’d lose the napkin before Saturday and would need to text him.

But he didn’t know that, he just gave you his number.

********

YOU: Wanda do I have news for you

WANDA: TELL ME TELL ME

YOU: you know that really cute barista at the cafe I always go to…

WANDA: SHUT UP

YOU: he gave me a free muffin and an invite to his friends house party this weekend

YOU: and of course I asked if you could come, so do you want to party this weekend?

WANDA: Is that even a question???

WANDA: also I need to lend you clothes for this, you need to end the night with that man oh my lord

YOU: Alright take it easy, we’ll see how it goes!

WANDA: don't be stupid you two would be so cute together!!

********

Throughout the week you and James had been texting all the time, you even waited after Fury’s class to say hi to him again. It ended up that you took the entire ten-minute grace period between classes to catch up since texting last. Conversations both in person and over the phone were easy, it didn’t feel as complicated as your other situationships and relationships.

There used to be calls with Wanda, freaking out over what was too risky or what was too boring. Forget the spitballing of the same sentences with minor changes, forget the excruciating nerves that came in the window after pressing send and before hearing back.

He was an interesting person to get to know, but you didn’t regret it. By Saturday you understood how Bucky could be so fitting, under the customer service persona, in his element, he’s a hilarious guy. It wasn’t always flirty, it wasn’t always serious, it was just a well-balanced conversation that seemed to continue for days.

As you stood in the bathroom, drink in one hand and mascara in the other, you bounced with Wanda as you both got ready. Friday night you and Wanda booked a study room and grinded your to-do’s that had yet to be completed, and a grind it was. Three red bull’s ,each, later you and Wanda were ready to take the entire day to pamper yourselves.

With no weights on your shoulders you took an everything shower this morning, feeling clean and well moisturized. You ate what you wanted throughout the day, treating yourself to the first thing that popped into mind. Wanda did the same, sleeping in until noon before beginning her wake-and-bake.

All of that pampering led to now, you and Wanda mouthing to Beyonce as you placed the finishing touches on your makeup.

“Another shot!” Wanda poured two shots, both of you taking them back like it was nothing.

“How long until the uber gets here?” you asked between coughs, trying to fight the vodka burn. You downed the vodka cranberry you made before spraying Wanda’s setting spray.

“Five minutes, we should head down,” Wanda did one final once-over before turning to you and making jazz hands around your face, “super-model is getting some dick tonight!” Wanda shouted before you could cover her mouth.

“Shut up!” you laughed and pulled Wanda into a hug, “are you sure you’re gonna be good if I go off with James?” you asked as you both grabbed your final things to shove in your small purses.

“Oh, of course,” Wanda looked over her shoulder, “but I want to meet those idiots and show them how to introduce a friend,” you couldn’t see her face but you knew she rolled her eyes; she found the story more annoying than you.

“Relax with that, let’s have an open mind,” you said as the elevator began to descend. Your phone in your hands, you were texting James to let him know the two of you were on your way.

When the two of you arrived the party was in full effect, before fully entering you sent another text to James, he hadn’t responded to the first one. The ride was short, not expecting the house to be this close.

JAMES: come down the main hall and into the kitchen, you’ll see me

You grabbed Wanda’s hand and began to march through people standing and talking, couples making out against the wall. There was a basement door before the kitchen, you could hear different music coming from the speakers down there. People were cheering and yelling, most likely playing a drinking game. Pushing through the final group of people you were in the kitchen, and there he was.

Two closed cans extended to you and Wanda, a tipsy smile gracing his face. “I’m so glad you guys could make it!” he spoke loudly to be heard over the dub-step music. “My buddies are there, I wanted to make sure you got in alright,” he confessed, bringing a blush to his cheeks. Three of you walked over to the two men you recognized. “Sam, Steve…” Bucky coughed, “this is y/n and her friend Wanda. Wanda, this is Sam and Steve,” James pointed to them respectively.

“Hi boys,” Wanda greeted with a half-smile.

Tipsy and slightly nervous you jutted in, “Wanda is a chem major.”

“We’re all in stem,” Steve lit up, “I’m in engineering, Sam’s in Biology with Bucky.”

Wanda almost spit out her drink, “who the hell is Bucky?”

Everyone laughed, in that moment you looked to James to see a wide smile, Wanda was in between you two so a look was all that seemed appropriate. The conversation flowed, primarily about stem activities. For a while you stood silently and listened to their similar stories and experiences. James didn’t talk that much, he seemed to be waiting for something.

The party had only grown but you all stayed in the same spot, you didn’t realize until a small push how crowded the kitchen became. Wanda jolted forward and James stepped in, moving Wanda to where he was standing so he could push back against the large group of guys obnoxiously jumping and screaming to a song.

Your circle slowly began to shrink, Sam and Steve stayed pressed against the counter, right by the corner. Wanda snuck in beside Steve, you noticed her flirty look at him. Instinctively you moved to stand more in front of James rather than beside, his hand quickly wrapped around you.

“This is okay, right?” he asked and brushed his thumb a few times on your waist to signal what he was talking about, you looked up quickly and nodded. The moment he saw your face his brows pulled tight, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you spoke over it all, he leaned down to listen, his hair almost in your face. As he bent down a gust of his cologne hit you, it had an undertone of beer. “Just kinda crowded.”

“Tell me if you want to go to the basement- how about that? They're playing beer pong down there, maybe we can watch?”

You nodded quickly, looking at Wanda who had moved away from Steve and was talking to another guy. “Wanda,” she looked over her shoulder, “I’m going to the basement, okay?”

Wanda’s eyes grew big as she gave a thumbs up, “I love you, I’m all good, have fun!”

You giggled and took Jame’s hand, he took the long way around the annoying crowd and to the door you noticed when you walked in. Finally starting to move after a while, you realized how drunk you really were. The stairs were steep, as one hand grabbed the hand rail the other was placed on his shoulder.

Once you got to the bottom he gently took your arm to get your attention, “still good?” he giggled.

“I’m very drunk, but good drunk!” your laugh pushed you into his chest, letting him wrap his arms around you. After a quick squeeze he pulled away and brought you away from the stairs, the both of you watched the game as you nodded your head to the beat.

“Have you been enjoying the party?” After a while James leaned down to your ear from behind you. The smell of beer washed over your face as his lips tickled the side of your ear. Before you could respond, a full-body tingle, accompanied by goosebumps, rippled down your body. James could obviously tell you had a physical reaction to him, “I saw that,” he whispered again, peering over to see your eyes gently close.

With his arms wrapped around your waist you slowly turned to face him, “that was like ASMR in real life,” you blurted out, your guilty pleasure slipping through your teeth. James laughed and nodded, his reaction calms your nerves because it seemed like he was drunk enough to admit it to.

“That shit is great!”

A burst of laughter ripped through you, your hand covering your mouth. “Imagine you recommending a coffee to someone like that,” you tried to imitate but another wheeze of laughter hit you, the alcohol making everything so much funnier.

“You’re adorable,” he chuckled to himself, a genuine smile gracing his face. He stared at you for a moment, his eyes switching between yours, though his smile faded a small grin stayed implanted on his face. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” you bit your lip and nodded, your eyes flicking down to his lips as he licked them. One hand that sat on your hip moved to cup your jaw, his eyes watching your lips the entire time. As you leaned forward the alcohol pushed you a little too hard, there was no way you were going to ruin this moment by stumbling so you placed your hand on his chest, gently closing your eyes as you felt his lips connect with yours.

It seemed neither of you wanted it to end, holding onto the moment before slowly pulling away. It must have been the alcohol between the two of you because neither of you were satisfied, instantly you both kissed again, James prodding his tongue against your lips.

Getting the hint, you slightly opened your mouth and slid your hand up his chest. Grabbing a fistful of hair you kept him right where he wanted. Kissing him was like a drug, every second thought or insecurity slowly faded away as your shoulder rolled back for the first time this evening. Due to the lack of air you both pulled away at the same time, giggling to yourself as you looked around; realizing how public that make-out session was.

“Are you okay?”James asked, you quickly nodded and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, making him blush. “You are such a good kisser,” he added.

“You too,” you tucked your chin into your neck, not knowing what to do with the attention.

After watching the end of the beer-pong game you both headed back upstairs to find Wanda, James was more than happy to come with you to check on her. She was with the same guy you saw her with when you left, when she saw you her eyes lit up. Before you could say anything she turned back to the guy, speaking quickly with an apologetic face. Quickly, she rounded the counter and grabbed both of your arms, “I see a little lip gloss smudge,” she reached up and wiped your top lip.

“Stop,” you gasped and quickly wiped around your lips to make sure it was all gone. “Now, who is that guy over there?”

“His name is Vision- he’s European, we’ve been talking so much about Europe it’s so nice to talk to an international student,” she leaned closer, “it also helps that he’s hot.”

You laughed and looked over Wanda’s shoulder to wave to the guy, looking confused as to why the girl he’d been talking to all night ran off. Before Wanda could leave James came back, empty hands leaving his pockets to wrap an arm around you.

Wanda took one look at James before a wicked smile grew, “love the lip gloss, what shade is that?” In an instant James covered his mouth, the crinkles around his eyes told you he found it as funny as Wanda did. James didn’t have anything to say back, obviously being caught. Wanda didn’t harp on it though, she just sipped her drink with a chuckle.

The night flew right past you, you had slowed down on your alcohol consumption but still held a decent buzz. After the moment in the basement it seemed James was stuck to you, and you weren’t complaining. If you were dancing, talking, or even moving from one room to another James was touching you in some way.

His hand rested on your hip for the majority of the evening. It was grounding to feel his side pressed to your shoulder, you felt protected in ways you never felt before. You hadn’t asked him to gently pull a strand off of your lip gloss and tuck it behind your ear, you didn’t tell him you wanted a hug everytime you came back from the washroom, he did it because he wanted to.

********

The walk to the cafe had never felt more stressful than it did right now. Flashes of the previous night caused a lull in your stomach, a slowly growing ball of stress.

Last night was too perfect, this morning you laid in bed and analyzed everything you could remember about the party. You hadn’t realized how long you had been staring at the ceiling, nit-picking every interaction you had with James. Even the thought of the kiss you shared in the basement caused a wave of nausea to hit you. You had sent him a text when you got home, he sent a quick reply.

This is definitely a fluke, you thought to yourself as the cafe entered your view, he just liked me because we were both drunk. Part of you didn’t know why you were so keen to go the next morning, maybe you should have stretched out the rejection; living in your fantasy for as long as possible.

With a deep breath you pulled the door open, cringing at the bell ringing; you had hoped for a stealthy entrance, maybe you could both go about pretending not to know each other.

There he was, barely anyone else was in the cafe at the time, he looked right at you. “Hey,” you said softly, eyes casted low.

“...hi,” James dipped his head to try to make eye contact, “y/n, what’s wrong?” His eyes widened in a fraction of a second, shooting him forward, “did I make you uncomfortable last night?” he whispered, placing his hand on the counter.

In shock your lips slightly parted, “I-um, yeah I’m okay-um,” you just shook your head, speechless. “I just thought this was going to be different.”

“How?”

With your eyes wide, you tried to find the words you wanted to say without sounding like an idiot, you hadn’t even entertained the idea of him genuinely liking you after one night out, especially when there was a steamy make-out session that wasn’t spoken about for the rest of the night.

“I-I genuinely thought you would regret yesterday, I don’t know why I- I just thought it was because we were drunk,” you fiddled with your hands as you spoke, not wanting to deal with this any longer.

“I need you to understand,” James spoke as he rounded the corner of the counter, taking your hand and pulling you to the back. “You come here all the time, you are consistent, you are a creature of habit.” James placed a hand on your shoulder, “almost everyday I think about when you’re coming, what you’re doing while you’re here, if your work is going smoothly, and if you get home safe. I always look at the door thinking it’s you walking in, okay?” He chuckled at the confession, “this is not because I was drunk, this was not because you were drunk. It’s simply because I like spending time with you, in fact, I love it now because I can actually get to know you; not just from your window seat.”

It came as a whisper, “okay,” slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling him instantly pull you close. “I was really preparing for the worst, but I do really like you too, James,” you giggled after feeling him squeeze you tighter at the sentiment.

“I know your coffee order, my friends came and made fun of me in front of you,” he led you out of the back and began making your order, without you paying. “There are so many reasons this is not a fluke, okay?”

Taking your coffee into your hand, you quickly nodded. “Thank you, James,” you slightly lifted your cup to him, “maybe I can get you back for the muffin and coffee…” you tucked your chin to your neck, “maybe dinner would be the logical reimbursement…”

James just laughed, “I would love to get dinner with you, but you are sure as hell not paying on the first actual date,” he continued to laugh, “that’s just not happening.”

“Fine,” you took a seat at the bar, “you can pay for the first and I’ll pay for the second.”

James’ smirk grew, “sure, totally.”

“I’m serious,” you laughed, “let me pay for at least one!”

All it took was a knock-out smile, “you’ll pay on the one-thousandth date, and I am not keeping track.”

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x yn #bucky barnes fluff #college!bucky #bucky fluff #bucky barnes oneshots #bucky oneshots #bucky #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #collegebucky fluff #college bucky fic #collegebucky oneshot

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homestylehughes · 1 month

Text

do i know you?

coffee girl: part 2

pairings: luke hughes x fem!reader

summary: y/n's first day on the job, after her encounter big spill with luke hughes. her first day's is going as expected, until she locks eyes with luke, the tension begins to unfold.

wc: 1.6k

warnings: nervous and shy reader and luke. cuteness overload, cussing. fluff? nothing too crazy yet! cliffhanger kinda AGAIN

authors note: OMG HI!! i'm so so sorry it took me forever to get this up. college is actually kicking my ass. (someone help me). ANYWAYS this chapter is more of a filler, more reader focused. we will be getting to the good stuff soon, promise!!! thank you for all of your love and support, so so thankful. like and reblog if you enjoy. as always much love.

happy reading <3

Holy shit I got the job. I got the fucking job. The job that I was late to my interview for, because I ran into cute, sweet, day ruining Luke Hughes, spilling coffee on me and now we’re here.

I'm practically skipping out of the prudential Center, a smile on my face that nothing can take off, even the split coffee on my shirt.

I start the walk back to my apartment, with a pep in my step. opening my door, my little orange baby Moe greeting me at my feet.

“Hi, little baby” “mommy got her job” I said to him in a whiney pet voice as I lifted him up into my arms, cradling him into my chest. God, I need more friends, I think to myself.

But none of that matters because I got my dream job, that world is on my side right now. I put Moe back on the ground after our cuddle session, picking up my bag and making my way towards the bathroom.

I take in my state, Luke's hoodie still covering my body, his scent filling my senses. Letting out a deep sigh, I pulled off the hoodie and put it in my laundry basket. Slowly making my way to my closet, pulling on the first things I find, and plopping myself into my bed.

My eyes began to slowly close, the events of today filling my mind as I drift off to sleep.

—

Today is the first day of my job. I'm shitting bricks, I'm not ready for this. You can do this y/n I think to myself, this isn't anything you haven't done before. You are more than qualified for this position. You've worked with athletes before, but these are insanely attractive athletes, but most importantly Luke Hughes is one of them. Fuck…Luke Hughes.

Im quickly pulled out of my day dream, when the elevator door dings open. Swiftly making my way to my office, my office.

Walking into the office I call my own, seems unreal, looking around once I set the box of my things on my desk, along with setting my purse in one of the chairs in front of it. Walking around the space taking it all.

I'm quickly pulled out of my daydream again today when I hear a man's voice behind me.

“I'm guessing youre y/n y/l/n?” turning around quickly, to meet eyes with the nameless man standing in the doorway.

“Hi yes, I'm y/n, nice to meet you?” I say holding out my hand to the man, whose name I still haven't gotten. “Hi, it's lovely to meet you! I'm Tyler but everyone calls me Ty!” Tyler or I guess ty says, shaking my hand with a smile on his face.

“I'm guessing you like your place?” Tyler says behind me as we both look around the office, “Yes it's great! I love it already '' I smile back at him.

“Great! Hope you're ready, to meet the team, in about… 5 minutes” he says, as he checks his watch. Oh god, in 5 minutes, i haven't even unpacked yet. Oh gosh what if they all hate me. Oh my god, Luke. Will he remember me??

“I can see everything you're thinking on your face, they're going to love you, the whole team is excited to meet you. It's not everyday we get a female athletic trainer.” Ty says to me pulling me out of my thoughts, calming me down slightly.

“Thank you, i needed that” I sigh out back to him

“Of course, are you ready?”

“Yes? I think” Ty chuckles in response, as we make our way out of the office.

“I'll give you a better in depth tour than the one you've had earlier, later. Sound good?” he says from beside me, nodding my head in agreement. As we make our way through the halls of the center.

We finally make our way to what I think is the Devils locker room, my heartbeat begins to pick up.

“The boys finished up practice about 45 minutes ago” Ty says as he's going to open the door, his back now turned to me. “I'm going to go in first to make sure they're all dressed and somewhat put together” he chuckles out to me.

“Okay, I'll be here,” I say before he enters the locker room.

It feels like 30 minutes goes by, but it's actually probably only been 2.

I see Ty head pop out, “y/n, are you ready?”

“Yes!” NO I want to say, but I'll keep that to myself. Taking a deep breath, I follow Ty into the locker room.

Walking in the locker room, I instantly feel 40 pairs of eyes on me. Oh gosh this is scarier than I thought, I say to myself.

“Gentleman, this y/n, our new athletic trainer!” Ty says gesturing to me, our eyes locking briefly, silently asking me to say something.

“Hi guys! I'm y/n! I'm really excited to work with guys "I say, as I pause to try and think of something else to say.

“I'm not going to lie, I'm not sure what else to say… you guys make me nervous.” I laugh nervously. The whole room erupted in chuckles.

They found that funny? I'll take it.

“I like her already” I hear a few players chuckle out. My nerves are finally beginning to settle, until I lock eyes with him. Luke.

It feels like my whole world stops, as his eyes lock with mine, our eyes swimming in each other, his gaze is so strong, it's almost like he’s trying to figure out who I am.

I'm the first to break contact. Turning around to only get pulled into a conversation with the training staff, as they quickly pulled me out of the locker room, to show me around the rest of the building.

I can't shake the feeling of Luke's eyes on me, as they show me around. My mind is still foggy from our interaction.

—

My “first day” was more of a tour and getting the feel of where everything was. I was even able to get my office together. This is beginning to feel like home I think to myself. Im pulled out my thoughts when I hear a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I shout out, from my desk, my face in the paperwork I'm currently filling out, not bothering to raise my head, thinking it's one of trainers.

“One second, just trying to do this last bit of paperwork” I say, as my pen is quickly moving across the page.

“You're okay, take your time” says the voice that I know oh so well, the voice that's been stuck in my head for the last 4 days.

I slowly bring my head up from my desk, my eyes slowly taking over Luke's figure, taking in his appearance. He's just as beautiful as I member

Quickly snapping out of my trance, clearing my throat “Hi Luke, did you need something?” I ask as politely and professionally as I can.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Luke quickly says to me.

“Um.” I am trying to figure out a way to continue this conversation.

I feel Luke's eyes run over my face for the second time today. I see his mouth slowly open, as he runs his hand over his face, letting out a sigh.

“Oh my gosh, you're the girl I spilt her coffee on like a week ago aren't you?”

“It's actually been four days but, yes that's me.” I say back letting out a breathlily laugh to my desk.

“Shit, i'm so so sorry” he rambles out quickly. “Its okay, I promise, it was an accident”

“But I made you cry, oh my gosh. You were on the way to your interview here, weren't you?”

“Yes I was, but it worked out, I still got the job,” I say, gesturing to the room around us.

“This is so embarrassing, I'm so sorry.” Luke begins to apologize again.

“Hey hey, i promise it's okay” i say getting up from my desk, walking around to lean up against the front, to stand in front of Luke.

“We can start off again on a better foot if you'd like?” I say holding out my hand to him, “Hi, I’m y/n” my hand still being held out in front of him, luke's eyes look me up and before he grasps my hand finally shaking it. “Hi, I’m Luke” he says, staring my eyes.

“It's nice to meet you” I smile out to him, as our hands drop, his touch still lingering. “You're really pretty when you smile” Luke rasps out to me.

My cheeks begin to heat with a blush, lowering my head, now looking at my feet.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, you didn't” i say suddenly “it just surprised me, that's all”

“Good,” he says quietly, our eyes locked in a soft gaze.

“I-I should probably get going, let you get back to work.” “Yeah of course, thank you for stopping by” I say, for some reason I don't want him to leave.

“We’re really happy you're here y/n” luke says to me, there's something about the way Luke says my name, that makes my heart stop for a second.

“I'm really glad, I'm here too.”

“Have a great day” he says to me as he makes his way to the door. “You too!” I say turning back to behind my desk.

Luke turned back once more, to take one final glance in my direction, smiling softly at me again, before closing the door behind him.

I released the breath I didn't even know I was holding out, letting my shoulder fall a little bit.

This job is going to much more difficult than i thought, and it's all because, of my stupid coffee and Luke Hughes.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes

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wlntrsldler · 1 month

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hii, could you maybe maybe do like luke x reader human au and their eachothers gym crush and their always asking one another to spot eachother?? preferably fluff????

you promised yourself that you'd start going to the gym again once the new year and spring semester started. you'd been feeling bogged down by the responsibilities and workload of fall semester and it left you unmotivated to go work out. but one thing about you, if you were going to pay thousands of dollars to attend your college, you were going to use every. single. amenity.

which is how you found yourself at your school community gym ending your ten-minute, intense warmup on the stair master. you severely overestimated your stamina. you were hunched over, gripping the hand rail as you tried to catch your breath. you took a sip of water, wiping the sweat off your brow as you made your way to the weights.

you scanned the room, taking mental note that not having noon classes was a good thing because the gym was virtually empty with many students in class. there were a few people in the gym but not enough to have to wait for people to finish up on the machines. your eyes landed on a boy doing arm curls in the mirror. he grunted after every pump, scrunching his face in exhaustion as his muscles constricted under his tank top. his curls were stuck on his skin, sweat dripping down the side of his face. you were glad his eyes were closed because the way you were staring at him was borderline creepy.

you couldn't help it. he was insanely attractive.

you blinked, shaking your head as you looked down at your feet. you walked by in front of him, trying to get to the weight racks. his eyes fluttered open at the sound of you shuffling in front of him. you met his eyes on the mirror in front of you, sending him a shy smile. he stopped his actions, dumb struck as he watched your lips curl into a smile. it took him a minute to return your actions, but then he smiled, and your knees almost buckled. he was so handsome.

you picked up the ten pound weights, which seemed silly compared to the fifty he was lifting, and waddled to the empty bench two spots away from him. you could feel his eyes on you as you adjusted the bench to the correct position. you tried to tell yourself that the flush on your cheeks was due to your workout and not because of the boy shamelessly staring at you.

eventually, he peeled his eyes away from you, but he still snuck glances at you. there were a few instances where your eyes met and you'd both blush furiously before looking away, embarrassed that you were both caught. when he finished his reps, he stacked the weights where they belonged and made his way to the machine in the corner of the room, where you had a perfect view of him.

he seemed to know exactly what to do. it seems like he was in the gym often, which was unsurprising given his build. it was clear he worked out or played a sport, at the very least. you re-racked your weights and walked over to the leg press. you tried out a few weights before finding the right level for you. you breezed past the first two sets of your workout, but found yourself struggling on your third and final set.

"shit," you mumbled, straining your legs. note to self: start out slow. don't get cocky or else you'll put yourself in a position where your legs might snap off.

you were pushing the leg press with all your might, hand fumbling to find the emergency lever on the machine, but to no avail. and then the pressure disappeared. and when you opened your eyes, the cute gym boy was hovering over you, a concerned look on his face.

"you okay?" he asked, offering you a hand to get up from the machine.

you accepted his hand and cringed, "yeah, i haven't done this in a while and i pushed myself too hard, i think."

"pushing yourself is fine, but you gotta be careful," he said, voice still laced with concern. "wouldn't want you to get hurt."

"thanks," you replied, reaching for your water bottle on the floor to take a sip.

"i'm uh-- luke," he introduced himself, a timid smile on his lips. up close, he was even more gorgeous, which felt a little unfair. he had a scar on the side of his face that made him look rugged. you wanted to reach over and trace the raised flesh with your thumb.

"y/n, nice to meet you."

"do you need a spot?" luke questioned, a shade of red creeping up his neck. he was looking down, scruffing the bottom of his converses on the gym floor.

"oh, i don't wanna take time away from your workout," you waved off.

"no, it's fine. i'm almost done, anyway." this was a lie. he wasn't even half-way through his workout, but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to spend time with the pretty girl at the gym. he'd been watching you since he saw you, waiting for the right time to strike a conversation. it was unfortunate that an almost-injury was the opening he got. "i don't mind, i swear."

"well, then, yes. i'd really appreciate it," you smiled, getting back on the machine. luke's heart was hammering in his chest as you smiled up at him. "thanks, luke."

he gulped, blushing when his name left your lips, "don't mention it."

luke stayed glued to your side for the rest of your workout. he corrected your form, partly to have an excuse to touch you, and whispered praises in your ear that made your shiver. good job, y/n. one more, you got it. that's what i'm talking about.

after every set, luke would beam at you and raise his hands in a double high-five. you spotted him for his workouts, which deemed unnecessary because he didn't need a spotter, but he liked having you so close to him. he also hit some new prs because of it, but you didn't need to know that.

at the end of your impromptu gym session, luke asked for your phone number (for gym and spotting purposes, of course) which you gladly gave him. he waited for you outside the women's locker room as you grabbed your gym bag and walked out of the gym with you.

luke hesitated before he started walking to his dorm on the opposite side of campus from yours, "so, same time tomorrow?"

"it's a date," you teased, biting your bottom lip.

"can't wait."

you had a feeling you were going to stick it out for this new year's resolution.

#frances writes #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x you #luke with a crush is my kryptonite!

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willowser · 6 months

Text

now i wake up by your side—

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 2.8k+

tags: u.a. college au, canon-compliant, reader has a telekinesis/telepathic quirk, references (and potential spoilers) for the current arc in the manga, angst, a lot of secret hidden feelies

tysm to @alrightberries for giving me the opportunity to bring this lil thought of yours to life 🥺 your patience and understanding during the time it took me to write this is so appreciated it, and tbh you're the reason i'm even still here right now LOL you're so sweet, and i hold your kindness so close to my heart. i wish i could convey how much it means to me. i hope i did this even a lil justice !! happy birthday dear !!!! 🥺🩷✨️

Sero dreams of watching the sunrise on top of the Roppongi Observatory.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you’ve never seen with your own eyes, but you soak in the warmth flushing across his cheeks and the anticipated break of morning through the clouds. When he takes in a hefty breath, you feel the spring chill sting inside his chest, crisp and clear, like it’s you breathing instead of him, and it’s almost comforting enough to lull you to sleep, too.

But a clay pot shattering against a nearby bench has your eyes springing open, ripped from the haven you’d been lost to.

You have to blink several times in order to fight through the exhaustion wearing you thin, but the evening returns to you in small, bleary doses. It’s the middle of the night—or at least it was when you’d first wandered out to the training field, and you can’t be sure how many hours have passed since then. Across the yard, you’ve successfully managed to carry four pots from the garden plot near the entrance all the way to your feet with your Quirk— but number five sits in pieces in the grass.

You’ll have to clean that up by morning or Eraser will make you run laps until you puke. Again.

Kirishima flits through your mind in a suit and tie: not as a Hero, but a spy of some kind, chasing down men with masks covering their faces and wielding a gun that looks odd in his hands, even in his own dream. Despite being back in the dorms, stories up and near the end of the hall, you can see it—hear him yelling out at the criminal to stop, feel the thud of the ground under his feet. His own determination blares through you like a freight train, as strong and damning as he is, and you fight to force yourself back inside your own shoes as you try to carry another pot.

Recovery Girl used to tell you that you did this to yourself: all your worry about losing sleep psyching yourself out of it completely, chasing it away before it even had the chance. When everyone is getting ready for bed, heading out of the common room and hitting the showers, you can feel that suspense building; what will come across tonight while everyone dreams? Fantasies? Or nightmares?

During the day it’s easier to drown out the foot-traffic of everyone’s thoughts—you do it without trying, now—but your brain needs rest, too. Letting go of control for even a second, just to get some shut eye is—

Something frightening is outlined in your peripheral vision, the dash of a pale shape you aren’t able to discern before it’s gone. The air turns metallic and stale and you can hear water sloshing, though you’re nowhere near the pools. All your blood rushes in your ears and your fingers curl, like you’re gripping your seat—gripping the edge of the couch in the common room, where you’d been sitting beside Mina when Kaminari put on that horror movie. The one with the—

“The hell are you doin’?”

Your eyes snap open for the hundredth time that night—show over, credits rolling—and it’s Bakugou. Standing only feet away from the new set of clay shards of your failure, tangible and real and staring at you with an intensity not even your dreams could mimic.

You blink, eyes stinging and heavy. You must look insane. “Oh, hey,” the voice that comes out of you is far-away, chartered off to distant lands, and he notices immediately, focus razor-sharp despite how late it is. “What did you say?”

Bakugou wrinkles his nose, like he’s offended at having to repeat himself. “I said, what the hell are you doin’? It’s nearly 2 in the morning and you’re out here throwin’ shit around in your fuckin’ pajamas.”

Almost on cue, the breeze brushes past your legs, chilly enough to have you shivering, and you peek down at them as if you don’t know what they look like. The sweater you’re wearing is from second year and the U.A. logo is half-worn off, but it’s the comfiest thing you own and if you’re going to be plagued all night by the forced intimacy of your classmates’ dreams—you at least want to be cozy.

When you look back up at him, Bakugou is pointedly looking away, taking interest in something other than your wimpy state of dress.

It dawns on you then that he’s out here, too, in sweats and a simple back sweatshirt, hair a messy, golden halo in the pale, buzzing field lights. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think his face was a little rosy, but—maybe you’re seeing things.

Still. Being out and away from everyone, alone with Bakugou, makes your stomach tighten horribly. Like you’ve done too many sit-ups.

You try to brush off your sudden bout of shyness, because you know he’ll clock that in no time, too. “Well, I could ask you the same thing.” At the raise of your eyebrows, he only tchs, and casts you a filthy look. “But I think maybe I’ll just mind my own business.”

The face he makes is so awful and hot-blooded that you laugh, truly and earnestly, enough that a headache pulses to life. You wince, and the stream of pain that shoots down the middle of your skull brings back that image of Kirishima’s action-thriller: blood and knives, the sound of skin on skin, a fist against cheekbones, the ugly snap of breaking—

“Oi.”

Bakugou is closer than before, when you’re grounded back inside yourself. At least no pots have been broken this time. Less to clean up.

“Sorry,” you shoot him an apologetic smile that you know he must hate. “It’s just so—” your hand feels like it’s made of lead, but you drag it up to massage slow circles into your temple, trying not to grit your teeth and worsen the pounding in your head. “So loud sometimes.”

He’s silent until the pain ebbs out, and when you can blink without flinching, you peek up to catch how intently he’s watching your face. In the night like this, his eyelashes seem darker, longer, a kind of haunting beauty you would dream about, if you could get some sleep.

Again, you think of Kaminari’s horror movie, legs pressed against Mina’s under the heavy comforter she’d brought down from her room. It’s warm, the kind of pink, fluffy thing you’d imagine a girl like her to have—but it didn’t stop you from shivering every time you chanced a glance at Bakugou and found him already staring back.

The heat in your cheeks spreads to the back of your neck, so immediate that you think you might start sweating. “Dreams and stuff,” you murmur, by way of an explanation, “nightmares, sometimes.”

Bakugou's frown deepens, the muscle in his jaw tightening once as he grits his teeth. “What, you can just…hear that shit all night?”

“Usually,” you shrug, “It just comes in, you know? And I—” you steal another glance at him, aware, then, of just how intrusive you might sound. The veil of privacy is thin between you and others, and they don't often like being reminded of that. “Not for you, though. I don't—I don't get anything from you.”

And it's true, frustratingly enough. Not that you are ever intentionally peeking into anyone's head, but things slip through, occasionally—sudden reactions, wild, loose trains of thought.

Bakugou's face twists, regardless, and you're reminded of all the times you've been forced to spar together, at Eraser's behest. One of the smartest in your class, quick on his feet and never without a plan; every time you've managed to get a hand on Bakugou, there's been nothing but a sea-shore calm.

It's hard to do and, at this point in your life, you've seen a thousand people try it—but he's the only one that's ever succeeded in keeping you at bay.

Nothing in his expression changes, but all your nerves spread to your voice until it shakes. “You're—I don't look in there, of course, but it's—you've always been…” Bakugou is terrible at taking compliments, you know that, almost as bad as you are at giving them. “Pretty, I guess.”

Awful, at giving them.

Embarrassment floods him, suddenly stained pink as he curls into himself. “Piss off,” he barks, and though he’s scowling at you in what must be disgust—you can’t help but to smile at how aggressively bashful he is.

You almost get the guts to make matters worse, just because you can. Admit how handsome you’ve come to find him, after the last few years, until his face is steaming in the sweet nighttime chill; the kind of intimacy you wouldn’t mind dreaming about again and again.

The absence of his thoughts are a comfort for your tired mind, has all the harsh edges of night fading into something a little easier to swallow, to breathe in. You know he does it on purpose as a strictly defensive move, but you almost want to thank him. For the quiet.

You don’t know if it’s from you or him, but when you reach a hand up to hover near his temple, the air buzzes between you, gently. Charged with that same thing that had you unable to look away from him in the common room only days ago. “In here, I mean,” you murmur, and the smile you pull on feels lame, but it’s as genuine as ever. “I don’t know, I don’t know how you do it. But it’s…nice.”

You’ve seen him die a thousand times.

Mostly in Midoriya’s dreams, sometimes in Eraser’s when he nods off during last period, but that horror—like many others, from that day—stains you all. When dinner is put away and showers are finished and the lights go out and the flood gates open, someone almost always relives the ugliness of it all; you’re more familiar with that moment than you are with any of your own.

Here and now, you close your eyes and see Jirou staring back at you, face beautiful and full of hope. You see Kirishima’s torn suit jacket and the blood on his cheek and the empty gun in his hand, the most dedicated secret agent. Aoyama is dreaming of his mother, something warm that makes you feel like you’re dazzling, too.

And yet—Bakugou is silent. Even right in front of you. Even after everything.

If anyone deserves the peace and quiet, you suppose it ought to be him.

“When’s the last time you got any sleep?”

You blink until his blurry figure is clear, and it’s like you can physically feel whatever energy you had left seeping from your body at the mere mention of sleep. “Maybe a morning or two ago,” you tell him truthfully, “I usually pass out after a few rounds of ‘throwin’ shit around’.”

Bakugou only stares at you as he digests the words, and once he’s gotten them down, he shakes his head before looking out over the mess you’ve made of the training field. With his head turned like this, you can take in the full weight of his scar—the one that’s wide and still baby-pink across his cheek.

You almost get the guts to tell him he’s handsome. Almost.

Frustration is evident on his face when he looks back at you, but his voice comes out softer than you expect, like he's struggling to get out any words at all. “Can’t keep doin’ this,” he chastises. “Can’t be a Hero if you’re half asleep all the time. Gotta figure this shit out.”

“I am,” you give a lazy wave to your pots, “What’s wrong with this solution?”

“It's ass.”

“Alright, you have any better ideas, pretty boy?”

He bristles, visibly enough to have you snickering, and—you’re not sure what you expect of him; to continue his griping or leave you to your own devices, building his walls up high as he always does. Ever the fighter, ever the protector; maybe it’s a good thing, you tell yourself, because you’re weak like this and one of you needs to be thinking straight.

Despite his flush, there’s a playfulness to his grouchy expression, his raspy tone—and it has you leaning too far into things you don’t know how to name.

You never know what to expect of him.

There’s the slightest brush of skin against the back of your hand, and when you drop your eyes to the slowly-dwindling space between you—the rough pads of his fingers are touching you, gently. Softly enough to be the breeze, if it weren’t so warm.

You’re afraid to look at him, suddenly, like it will break whatever spell the night is casting over both of you; instead you press your lips together to stop their wobbling and the smile fighting to give you away. You’re waiting for that sea-shore calm, that quiet comfort, whatever it is he’s trying to offer you, strangely enough, in this moment. When you turn your hand over to catch his, the air buzzes again and the blood rushes in your ears.

You focus and—all you can see is your own face staring back at you. In a flash, like he’s cycling through his cards in a hurry, trying to find the best one.

You, across the arena during the entrance exam. You, in the locker room before the Sport's Festival. You, sitting in the common room during Christmas. You, ruined with tears and your own blood and covered in grime, on the darkest day of your life.

You, now. On the field in the stale light, prettier than you think you must look, for being so exhausted, the lines of your smile deep as you grin up at him.

—And then there's nothing.

The absence of noise is louder than anything. A stark, white silence that cuts through; a different world trickling away. A single touch and a little focus is all it takes to take root inside someone’s head and that’s always felt like a weapon, but now it feels like coming inside from a snowstorm, relief shuddering down your spine. Everyone else's fears and nerves and heartaches dissolve until they’re only a bitter taste at the back of your throat. Something far, far behind you

There’s just Bakugou. A strong silence that feels impenetrable, invulnerable to the outside. The steady beat of his heart is comforting in a way you didn’t realize it would be, has that bloody, dead-eyed image of him shifting into something else: another moment in Midoriya’s memories, of his silhouette standing in the sun, tall and fierce and alive.

Returned. Here and now with you, after numerous, unforeseen turns of events. You wonder if the ease surrounding you is his own, something else he’s sharing—or if this is just how it feels to be with him after so long. Maybe in the past it was different—you know it was; during the entrance exam, during the Sport’s Festival—but now you feel more relaxed than you ever have. A reminder that, no matter how dark the nights get, the sun is only just beyond the horizon.

Returned, comforting and quiet.

(You won't know this until much later, but your hand will go slack in Katsuki's and his fingers will tighten around your own because he's not ready to let go yet. When your knees buckle, he'll already be there, awkwardly holding you up against his shoulder as his face flames and his eyes dart around the empty field, checking for any shitty snoops.

Ears is always up damn late, too, and there's a decent chance he'd get caught trying to haul you back to your room on the third fuckin’ floor, so there's really no better option than to gently lower you both to the grass. After a couple of minutes with no movement, the field lights will shut off and only the distant glow of the stars will remain.)

(You won't know this until much later, but Katsuki will arrange the both of you so that your head isn't slumped on the hard ground, but resting on the plush of his bicep, an arm around your shoulders so that the warmth can be shared between you both. His heart will pound hard enough in his chest to be worrisome, and every time you shuffle and scoot closer to him and nudge your nose into his sweater—Katsuki will fight to stay open and true, only honest with you in this wordless way.)

(You won't know this until the sun rises high behind your lids and your bones ache and he’s shown you things he could never say, but it's the best sleep you think you've ever gotten. With him, under the stars, surrounded by his calm and his constant.)

(You won't remember this but in your dream—your real dream, born from with solace Katsuki offers you—the morning will rise and settle in and he'll walk you back to your room despite the stares and in the elevator when you're alone, his lips will touch yours and you'll feel his heart in your chest and his nerves in your stomach and his fear and relief all in one.)

(And right away, when you wake up, you'll finally have a name for this thing that's been blooming between you both for as long as you can remember—and he will, too.)

#i was so nervous about getting the quirk right kahfkahf #and then i was so nervous about it being fluffy enough bc the first draft of this was too angsty ??#SO I REWROTE IT LOL #i hope this is okay !! 🥺#i love the idea of bakugou being able to express how he feels in emotion only #that the fear he doesn't know how to name or how to explain or understand is conveyed to you somehow #whenever he touches you #🥺#tysm for giving me the chance to write it !!!#literally no but seriously you're the only reason i haven't privated this blog again LMAOOO tysm 🥺#✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

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ggrapeejuicee · 4 months

Text

Lifeguard!Harry AU

cw: smut, oral (f receiving)

summary: you visit Harry at work and end up in the pool storage room…

— — —

His back was stiff against the uncomfortable white chair as he sat through the fourth hour of his shift. The sun was hot on his face, and the constant sight of children was really beginning to piss him off. He desperately wanted the summer to be over so he could be anywhere else but the side of this busy pool.

Harry’s eyes scanned the crowd, a group of moms on loungers next to the pool, their kids playing with floaties in the water, and when his eyes reached the entrance to check who was entering poolside, his whole body stiffened.

You.

You, in a stupidly revealing white bikini. You, with your annoying friends who hated him. You, with your Ray Bans that he bought you sat upon your head.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, and tried to draw his eyes away from you and towards others in the pool. But his gaze kept going back towards you.

And this time his eyes caught yours, and a smirk was playing on your lips.

Harry scanned your tanned body. The smooth skin he knew so well was on full display for everyone to see, a tiny bikini bra covering your breasts, and barely fucking anything covering your ass. The more he looked at you the more his cock hardened beneath his uniform shorts, a rock hard erection forming in no time. He kept his eyes locked with yours as he adjusted himself in his pants in an attempt to hide it from the rest of the crowd.

A smirk of his own appeared as he watched a faint blush appear on your cheeks.

He drew his eyes away from you, trying his best to do his job. If anyone drowned while he was having a raging hard on he’d never live it down.

But still he felt your eyes on him. Your piercing gaze on his shirtless body.

He desperately needed you, it had been too long.

“Hey, Lou?” Harry called his college who was currently cleaning the poolside, “Mind covering me while I take my break?”

Harry jumped off of the tall white chair and made sure Louis was in his place before he left his position. He caught your eyes again, and made a subtle gesture to the large white pool store house at the back of the poolside area.

Harry made his way to the store house, unlocking the door with his employee set of keys. His dick was throbbing, and if you didn’t appear soon he would go fucking insane.

He paced the small space, his hand running through his slightly damp hair, waiting, praying, that you’d show up.

His head was quick to turn and face the door as soon as he heard the handle twisting.

When you walked in, he found it difficult for his draw not to drop completely to the ground. Your skin was smooth, even in the dim, barely existing lighting it somehow still managed to glow. He wanted to rip that skimpy bikini right off your body so he could see each and every part of it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, ace?” Harry asked, his voice low.

“Am I bothering you, Styles?”

“You can’t break up with me and then come to my work dressed like that, do you know what you’re doing t’me?”

You grinned. You’d seen exactly what you’d done to him. His little show he put on while sat on the lifeguard chair has proven that.

“Feel what you’ve done to me.” He said, taking a step closer to you, his hand taking hold of your wrist.

His head moved so his lips brushed against your ears.

“Feel how fuckin’ hard you’ve made me princess. Comin’ in here with that slutty bikini on.”

He guided your hand to press against his rock hard erection, quickly gasping in a breath when coming in contact with it.

“Tell me you’ve missed me, ace. I gotta hear you say it.”

“I missed you, Harry.” You said quietly.

He gripped both of your wrists, pushing you against the nearest wall behind you.

“Tell me why you’re here.” He said, raising your hands above your head, pinning both your wrists up there with only one hand.

“Because I missed you.” You repeat.

Harry shook his head, “Real reason.”

His other hand dropped, and he slid it under his shorts and under his boxers, beginning to relieve some of the tension by palming his cock. His eyes rolled back slightly, the grip on your wrists tightening.

“I-”

“I only got 45 minutes on my break ace, if you want me I need to hear you say it so we can speed this up.”

“Fuck, Harry. I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t want you.”

He looked at you, grinning devilishly. He dropped the grip he had on your wrists.

“Sit down.” He gestured towards a wooden crate sat in the room.

You sat, refusing to break eye contact as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“‘M gonna take these off.” He said, his fingers hooking underneath the flimsy fabric of the bikini bottoms. “And then you’re gonna spread your legs nice and wide for me.”

You nod, jaw clenching in anticipation.

“Need to taste my princess before I fuck you.”

He slowly slid the fabric down your legs, before pushing your legs apart. And the moan that escaped your lips as soon as he buried his head into you was a noise you didn’t think you were even capable of.

Harry wasn’t prepared either, as soon as his lips tasted your dripping wetness, his moan made your whole pussy vibrate. Your legs shook as his tongue attacked your clit, gripping hold of his hair.

“Fuck, Harry,” You moaned, “Fuck, just like that.”

He looked up at you with a grin playing on his lips, continuing.

“Harry I fucking missed you.” You moaned, “I missed you.”

Harry sped up in desperation, he could tell you were struggling to stay quiet in such a public area. You’d always been a screamer, he liked that about you. But you were both very aware that no one locked the door and anyone could walk in at any moment.

“I’m gonna cum. Harry I’m gonna come.”

Your words made him only go faster, his tongue swirling around your clit like his life depended on it.

You slammed your hand over your mouth to muffle your cry as you came all over his face, a moan coming from Harry as he tried his best to lap it all up. Your taste was addicting to him.

“Fuckin’ hell, that was fast. You really have missed me.”

#harry styles #smut #harry styles smut #harry styles au #au #spicy #alternate universe #love on tour #fanfic #spicy fanfic #smut fanfic #one shot #harry styles one shot #one direction #one direction smut #harry styles x reader

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cherrysha · 2 months

Text

To Be Alone

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

A/N: Getting this tf outta my drafts,,, banishment style. if its formatted wrong its because im tipsy and im too lazy to fix it,,, itll get fixed in the morning <3

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Paranoia, weed, dubcon (since reader is under the influence), slight body horror

It’s already dark outside when you get to Yuuji’s apartment. Streetlights glimmer with a low electric buzz as you make your way up the concrete stairs. Its unseasonably cold outside, autumn air chilling through the light jacket you found haphazardly stuffed in the back of your car. He’s still blowing your phone up, probably ‘where are you??’ messages like he hasn’t been texting you that for the past fifteen minutes. Like he doesn’t know how far your work is from his apartment. You'd been friends long enough now to know when to answer his texts and when to ignore the incessant buzzing of your phone. “Jesus” you mutter as his ringtone plays. It’s been years but he’s always like this. A little too eager, like a child. Hitting mute, you finally round the corner and knock on his door. Yuuji could be so impatient sometimes. It only takes one rap against the metal before you can hear the bolts turning, your friend’s cottony pink hair greeting you, eyes scrunched in a bright smile. You can't be mad, not when the smile that covers his face is so genuine.

“You're insane” you huff out at him, stepping into the threshold and shimmying out of your coat in the process. His apartment is always so warm, a little too warm, but his older brother blew a gasket any time Yuuji tried to turn down the heat for you.

“Am not!” you giggle as he puts a hand to his chest, mock annoyance coloring his face “You just need to be quicker… making me wait and all.” You ignore him, haphazardly kicking out of your shoes before stepping deeper into the apartment.

“isn’t Junpei coming? We have to wait for him anyway.”

“He, uh, didn’t feel like coming out tonight” you can hear the disappointment in his voice at the statement and it’s contagious. Yuuji’s had a crush on the boy for almost an entire year, which is hard to believe given his short attention span and lack of romantic interest. With an audible ‘tsk’ you ruffle his hair, smiling at the little indignant look on his face that threatens to spill over at the touch.

“There’s always next time, Yuuji” he nods, smile returning as he follows you into the living room.

“Was thinkin’ we could watch Cast Away, since you don’t like the scary stuff”. If Junpei were here, you know he’d make you watch a horror movie anyway. Probably send you off to his room during the really scary parts so you wouldn’t ruin the mood. The thought makes you smile, and you eagerly nod as you sink back into the sofa. Yuuji sits down next to you with a huff, fiddling with the remote until the movie starts in the background. He’s probably watched this one a dozen times. You know you’ve seen it with him too many times to count. Without much thought he turns it up before setting the remote back down and picking the blunt up off the coffee table. Thank God he figured out how to roll them up. The last thing you wanted was another thirty-minute session of trying to show him exactly how to do it himself.

Tom Hanks’ boring little life plays out on the screen in front of you as Yuuji mumbles something about how you would’ve rolled it better, and not to judge his sloppy technique. He’s still learning and all. You don’t look his way to reply, only muttering “Free weed is free weed.” as you focus on the movie. He's never told you who his dealer is, and you’ve never outright asked. Whoever he was, he never seemed to be in short supply. All the dealers you’ve met at college were either professional frat boy scam artists, selling little baggies of trash weed to stupid rich boys, or untrustworthy as hell. The type to sell you laced product and not even bat an eye. Good dealers were hard to find. It wasn't surprising Yuuji hadn’t told you, and it didn’t matter since he rarely liked to smoke alone. Yuuji leans back into the couch as he lazily hands the blunt to you, coughing a little at the end of his exhale. You don’t think about it as you take it from his hand.

Friday nights at Yuuji’s feels like routine at this point. Leave work, smoke a blunt or two on his couch as he monologues about the random movie he’s put on, sober up and go home to your empty apartment and sleep in until Yuuji blows your phone up again. Sometimes Junpei or Nobara join in too, but most of the time it’s just you and him. Like it’s always been.

Time feels like syrup as you listen to him ramble, voice a breathy sigh as he tells you behind the scenes facts about the movie. How Wilson actually had his own lines in the script, how none of the sound was useable and had to be added in during post production. A treasure trove of useless facts that you happily indulge in listening to. It’s odd to think of him taking his time to learn such trivial things. The image of him blankly staring at the cast away wiki during lecture swirls in your mind, pulling a chuckle from your dry throat. He’d definitely do something like that. Probably wouldn’t care if he was caught either.

“What’s so funny?” he mumbles, lazy smile almost infectious as you just nod your head at him, eyes averting back to the screen.

Toms already stranded on the island, you think this is the part where he rips out an infected tooth, at least you hope it is. You didn’t want to be around to see that on the screen again.

“You want somethin’ to eat?” you mumble at him, pushing up from the couch.

“Uh, can you get me a bottle of water?” you nod, with a small chuckle. His eyes are glazed over, half lidded as he watches the screen like he’s absorbing any information that’s being presented to him. In about five minutes he’d probably be asleep.

You hear the scream from the kitchen as Tom finally pulls the tooth out with the blade of an ice skate. You were too squeamish to look at the screen the first time you watched it. Even now, the sound alone was enough to gross you out.

Yuuji’s cupboards are always well stocked with garbage. Chips, candy, instant noodles, anything you wanted. You take another drag from the blunt, head fuzzing over with smoke as you stare at all the options. Sukuna kept most of his food separate, not that you had to worry much about accidentally eating it. The healthy stuff was all his. Mostly stuff that had to be prepared and cooked. You weren’t looking for that shit tonight.

“You should probably eat something!” you call out to him. After a few seconds with no reply, you peek around the corner, unsurprised to see him snoring away loudly on the couch. Go figure.

He usually fell asleep later, during the first half of the second movie. When the blunt was at least half finished. At least he left room for you on the couch this time.

Not thinking much about it, you grab a pack of cookies and two water bottles. One for you, and one for the bonehead if he decided to wake up any time soon.

Yuuji had left another blunt unattended, letting it idly burn away in the ashtray while he snored unashamedly on the armrest. It wasn’t really a problem, if anything it meant more for you. Yuuji wouldn’t mind, if anything he’d probably be happy that it didn’t go to waste… He probably wouldn’t mind if you smoked the third one either…

~~~

Idly you sip the water, heart pumping faster than it should be, skin feeling clammier than normal. You didn’t feel normal. Nothing felt normal.

He’s been passed out for too long to be easily woken up by the time you start feeling it. ‘It’ being the ever-pressing creep of paranoia along the edges of your psyche. Tom Hanks is screaming as Wilson bobs away from the makeshift raft and you can't help but to think the neighbors hear. That they’re calling the cops for a wellness check as you sit there, unmoving. The ambient lights flickering in through the curtains no longer feels warm, but rather very, very insidious. What happens if you go to jail? Will you lose your scholarship? Do you even have a fucking scholarship? You shake your head to try and clear the thoughts away to no avail. Yuuji’s groaning in his sleep, drool pooling out of the side of his mouth and the sudden impending doom bubbles back to the forefront of your mind. What if he chokes on all that drool and dies and you go to jail because you weren’t keeping an eye on him? Is it possible to choke on your own spit?

Your fears seem to be confirmed as the apartment door swings open, deafening compared to the low mumble of the tv and Yuuji’s deep snores. You can hear whoever it is close the door before walking down the hallway. What if it was the cops? Or even worse, someone here to rob Yuuji? Fuck, if that were the case, you'd have no qualms with them taking everything they wanted. It’s Yuuji’s fault he didn’t deadbolt the door.

You let go of the breath you'd been holding when Sukuna rounds the corner. Eyes flickering to his brother, then to you, then to the blunt burning away in the ashtray.

You must look startled, wide eyes locked on him as adrenaline surges through your body. You must look a little suspicious too.

“You good?” he asks, and you can't help but look away from his heavily tattooed face, eyes instead focusing on how his chest slowly moves under his plain white shirt with each breath. You blink, trying to mimic the natural motion, the steady in-and-out of his lungs filling up and exhaling air.

“Yeah… yeah. I just thought you were someone else.”

“Who?” his voice is demanding, sharp. Its always been that way. Deep and rich and hard to ignore. The only time you’ve been able to hear him speak more than a few words is when he’s bitching Yuuji out over something.

Taking, what you think is a very short moment, you answer.

“The cops?” he’s sighing at the sheepishness in your voice. Obviously connecting the dots as he moves to snuff the lit blunt out in the ashtray.

You can't help it as you continue to talk, to give him more proof of your paranoia as you try to defend your own emotions to him. After too long, he stops you. Hand coming to rub his face in a movement that exposes his true irritation.

“I just wanted some peace and quiet” Sukuna groans. He takes a moment to stare at the ceiling.

Silence hangs in the air like smoke as you try and find the words you need. Tell him that this is a mistake, a misunderstanding.

“I can go, if, if that’s what you wa-“

“Just shut the fuck up y/n.” he snaps, eyes finding yours just as tears threaten to spill. You don’t know why you were being so sensitive. Maybe it was because you’d never even met eye contact with the man, maybe it was because of your mental state, who was to tell. He groans again, moving closer and placing a hand on your head. Big arms encircle your waist as he hoists you up, free hand wiping at the tears sliding down your face as he walks down the hallway.

He’s so warm, how have you not noticed before? It’s not like you had ever been this close to him to truly know. In fact, this is the closest you’d ever been to him, physically and emotionally. You’d never felt comfortable enough, even the other times he’d come home to find you and yuuji stoned out of your minds, he usually left you two to your own devices and acted as if you weren’t there.

Before you know it, he’s plopping you down on his bed, and even just being in the quiet dimly lit room with him is more comforting than it should be. After all, he was being kind, a side of him you rarely saw.

“Still in your work clothes” he mumbles to himself, that layer of irritable disappointment still threading through his words as he curses again. Whispering something about kicking Yuuji’s ass before his big frame disappears out of the room. It hits you then just how focused he is on your well being. He’d focused in on something you thought was a non-issue, fixated on your comfort even if you weren’t.

You can hear him, doors creaking open and rummaging noises distantly echoing from down the hall, but all you can focus on is how the ambient light in his room looks sinister now that you’re by yourself. It doesn’t take long before he’s back, tossing you a pair of Yuuji’s sweats and sitting a glass of water down on the bedside table.

“Come out and let me know when you're changed.” he mumbles, but you already have a hand around his wrist. The touch softly begging him to stay and let you find comfort. Even if Sukuna is as comforting as a rock, it felt wrong being alone. You know it’s wrong, this is yuuji’s older brother, his older brother who’s rarely home, who’s done nothing but ensure your comfort, and yet, you can’t stop the well of feelings bubbling up in your chest at his casual decency. He stays, begrudgingly sighing as he sits down on the edge of his bed. You don’t expect him to give you any privacy, and he doesn’t, but you're too focused on keeping your cool to truly pay attention to the way his eyes roam over your exposed skin, eyebrow raising at the sight of you undoing your bra and tossing it into your pile of clothing.

When you’re finished he asks if you're tired, quieter now, observing you as if he’s come to some new realization while watching you undress. You nod your head, hesitantly sitting on the edge of the bed. Hoping that maybe if you were lucky he wouldn’t make you sleep in yuuji’s room. The thought of being left alone with your own thoughts much scarier than the man in front of you. Even if he kicked you out, you’d probably find yourself on the couch next to yuuji, being kept awake by his incessant snoring. Even now you could faintly hear it, the sound reverberating through the hallway and into Sukuna's room.

Before you can think too much about it, however, hands find your hips, maneuvering you onto Sukuna’s chest as he lays down with you. Every inhale moves your body on his, deep breaths as he slides his palms up to the back of your head, lifting it so you have no choice but to stare into his eyes.

“Feel any better?”. Vaguely, you think this is the nicest sukuna has ever been to you, even if he is forcefully tilting your head back. Usually, you only see him in passing, any words spoken on his part come out as a grunt and nothing more. Yuuji had told you that you were Sukuna’s favorite, whatever that meant. And when you had pressed Yuuji on that sentiment he had clammed up. Said Sukuna only let you stay the night, had only ever been himself around you. Of course you hadn’t known what he meant by that; Sukuna barely acknowledged you, never speaking to you unless he could do so in monosyllabic words or grunts. But tonight, he'd been nothing but kind, at least kind in his own right.

You nod, breath hitching as he mutters out a “good girl” before kissing the crown of your head. There’s nothing further than that, and after a while his deep breaths even out. You feel like a cat, some sort of small animal that their owner has allowed to sleep on their chest. It’s all too docile. Slowly you find yourself drifting off as well.

Your rest ends up being shorter than you would’ve hoped because Its hot. Too fucking hot. Too hot to sleep, too hot to breathe. You need out. Slowly, you slip off the huge t shirt, uncaring of your bareness underneath. You need relief in some form. It takes a few tries before you can roll the sweatpants off of your hips. Maybe if you were sober you would’ve remembered that this was not the time nor the place to be laying yourself bare, but for right now, its hard to remember your propriety. In truth, you forgot about the fact that your were a guest in a grown man’s bed, In truth, you really didn’t stop to think about repercussions. By the time you’re done, you realize you have an audience. Sukuna’s eyes are staring down at you, fingers digging into the meat of your hips to still your movement.

“Sukuna I’m sorry-“

“You trying to start something?”

“No, no I just got hot and- “

“You could’ve gotten the fuck off of me” it only takes a moment before tears threaten to spill at the harsh words, at the mean look on his face as he stares down at you. Its embarrassing, mortifying, that he’s right. Before you can make much progress on getting your body off of his a tight grip on your hips stills you as he readjusts, and places you squarely back on top of him again.

“Such a crybaby” his hips rock up, hands pressing you down further as he moves languidly against you. “Feel that crybaby?” you nod, eyes still focused on his as he continues moving. He’s hard between your legs, every press of his hips squishing into that soft spot at the apex of your thighs, igniting a new type of heat inside of you.

“There’s no use trying to take advantage of me like that,” he grunts, still moving against you “coulda just asked. I’m more than happy to give you what you want.”

Its not like that, at least in your head it wasn’t. You had made too many bad choices tonight, and all of them had led you here. Straddling his wide hips, hands on his chest as you slowly grind back and forth on top of him, gasping at the delicious friction with every swivel. Its surprising he allows it, but Sukuna just calmly rests on his elbows, transfixed with the way the material of his sweatpants moves underneath you, how he can feel the heat radiating from your core like a furnace.

Before long he sits up, hand wrapping around your hip to force you to still. He laughs at the whine that bubbles up from your throat, eyes searching your face as his free hand tangles in between you, pressing in between your bodies until he finds what he’s looking for. His thumb presses down softly at first, gentle and languid strokes over your clothed clit until your eyes flutter shut and you mouth drops open at the sensation. The syrupy feeling doesn’t last long, only a few minutes of his hips bucking up into yours, jostling you each time as his thumb traces careful circles, until he’s had enough and presses down on your clit harshly. His body shakes with laughter as you cry out in overstimulation.

“such a glutton” his mouth finds your throat, lips closing over your pulse point as his eyes flutter shut at the feel of your whines vibrating through the skin there. On a harsher thrust your nails accidentally scratch down the expanse of his muscular chest, ripping a growl from him in the process. Before you can apologize, he’s cursing again, hips moving against your own as he pulls and pushes you against him. Your best friend’s brother, beneath you, panting and groaning at the feeling of your nails in his chest. It doesn’t seem real, if anything it’s more believable that you passed out beside yuuji and ended up in a fucked up dream. Unfortunately for you the dull, bruising, ache of his hands on your hips solidifies this as reality, and unceremoniously you're dumped onto the bed, underneath him as he pants above you.

His eyes look crazed, an inch away from terrifying, as he sloppily rips your underwear from you, ignoring the sound of the fabric protesting at such harsh treatment. It feels wrong, and that alone turns you on further. Sukuna’s chest rises and falls in his excitement, and two fingers push into you, gathering slick and messily smearing it over your pussy. His hand is still wet, glistening in the low light as it wraps around your knee, pushing both of them together and up.

“Sukuna – “

“who told you to speak?” he’s lining himself up, eyes focused as he slowly rolls his hips forward. You never even noticed his sweats came off, never wanted it to get this far, but before you can find your voice -

You expect to feel the harsh burn of him pressing inside of you, but it doesn’t come. instead, his cock is pushing through your thighs, glistening head squishing through sticky flesh as he starts to set a harsh pace. The underside brushes along your folds, gathering the slickness there with every pass as his pace only gets faster.

“Fuck” he groans, hips twitching as he stills, trying to catch his breath at the sensation, at the fucked out expression on your face. He hasn’t even fucked you and yet you look an absolute wreck. You don’t feel much better either. Every slide of his hips forces more wetness from you, more noises from you. The feeling of his fingers digging into to crook of your knees keeps you firmly planted in the moment.

“All of this,” he sighs, finally picking up the pace after being a tease the entire night, “right under my nose this whole time.” the air is pushed out of your lungs as his cock finally rubs against your clit.

The sound of his body slamming against your own fills the room. Sukuna leans down, and for a shocking moment you think he may actually kiss you, but his head goes even lower before you can feel his teeth biting against your neck. There’s no room to breathe with him like this, your hands curling into the red sheets, his mouth unabashedly leaving marks against your throat, its all too overwhelming. The sound of slapping echoes through the room. You’re left adrift in the sensation of Sukuna fucking your thighs so vigorously, the wet schlick of skin on skin, the sound of his panting breaths. Only a few more thrusts against your clit before you’re whining, thrashing against the bed, close to an orgasm that doesn’t come.

“Did you really think I’d let you?” He breathlessly laughs “i’m not that kind sweetheart.”

Sukuna pulls back at the last second, hand on his cock as he jerks off in front of you, kneeing at your spread legs until you’re situated just the way he wants: legs spread, breathless, as he pumps his cock in front of your tits.

“Such a pretty thing” he murmurs, “shame this is all goin’ to waste… maybe one day-“ the groan, and sudden release that bathes your chest, is startling. You’d never thought of yuuji’s brother in this way, moaning above you as he paints your chest white. But now the truth of it was jarring enough for you to see the truth for what it was. You had fucked your best friend’s brother. Had let him finish on your chest, even let him clean you up afterwards and croon sweet nothings into your ear during the process. You were even shameless enough to fall into a peaceful sleep next to him.

When you wake, the room still faintly smells of sex. Fear grips you as you hear something down the hall. Sukuna is long gone, something you’d expected before you even opened your eyes. You know he’s probably left the apartment already, that’s not what scares you. The sound reverberating down the hall is yuuji. Singing over some shitty pop anthem blaring through a speaker. How could you explain away fucking his brother?

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryoumen smut

126 notes · View notes

yelena-bellova · 11 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Six

Chapter Six: The Devil You Don’t

Plot: Y/n considers making a change and Richmond squares off against West Ham United.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

A/N: Missed therapy today, finished this. Silver linings, everybody…lol

—————

Y/n sat at her dining room table, staring at a single piece of mail. It was from her rental company. They were informing her that it was that magical time of year. She could either choose to sign for another year or vacate. It was a decision she’d been putting off making.

Living in downtown London didn’t make much sense now that she worked at Richmond. The commute was longer and God help it if there was traffic. Y/n lacked the social life she’d had in college and she had no partner to stay near.

There was no longer anything tying her there.

Moving to Richmond meant she was fully committing to the club. She’d kept one foot out the door since arriving, knowing that things could go downhill at any moment. But it had been nearly three months and, though challenging, she had no reason to leave or believe she’d be fired. Was it time to stop holding her breath?

She couldn’t make a decision from her apartment. She had to get out.

Grabbing her keys and purse, Y/n left her building and hopped in her car. She made the drive to the last place she’d expected to be on her day off, but the only place she felt like being.

In the heart of Richmond, Y/n parked on the curb, just near the Crown and Anchor. There was a coffee shop around the corner from it that Keeley had recommended to her. It seemed as good a time as ever to try it and take a stroll around the neighborhood.

Something about Richmond that differed from London was the atmosphere. It felt very small-townish, while still being a decent sized borough. The people were kind, greeting each other as they walked past. Men tipped their caps. Children ran free in the park. Couples strolled hand in hand. Y/n had never been a Hallmark movie kind of girl, but it felt like the only comparison to be made. The city seemed to wrap its arms around its people, giving them a safe place to end each day.

Sipping what turned out to be one of the best coffees she’d ever had, Y/n contemplated it all. All practicality aside, and she could barely admit it herself, but she almost, kind of, sort of, possibly, maybe…wanted to live in Richmond.

She made her way towards the park, watching kids burn off their weekend energy and families taking their infants on morning walks. What she hadn’t expected to see was anyone she knew. A few feet away, Jamie was doing sets of burpees while Roy sat and watched. Out of politeness, Y/n had nearly approached when Jamie bent over, letting the contents of his stomach empty.

Roy sensed someone was near and twisted to find Y/n standing behind him. As awful sounds escaped Jamie, his coach smiled, as much as Roy Kent did smile, and nodded, “Morning.”

Y/n watched the scene with reserved concern and wild confusion. “Should I be worried about any of this?”

“No,” Roy answered, taking a bite of his breakfast sandwich in the most unbothered fashion, “He’s fine.”

Jamie’s body finally let him breathe and he glanced up, spotting Y/n. He gave her a quick nod before resuming his workout.

Y/n’s brows stayed creased as she raised her coffee cup to them, toasting the strange moment. “Okay,” she said, leaving them to the rest of their day.

There was a part of her brain that told Y/n it was crazy to move even a mile closer to the insanity that was AFC Richmond. Living further away gave her a barrier, an extra layer of protection. If she came to live there, she’d lose it.

And the other part of her mind decided that, much like with the job, it might be worth putting up with.

—————————

The next day, Y/n stopped by the KJPR office to grab some papers from Keeley. Something about an endorsement deal for one of the boys.

“Oh, I wanted to tell you,” Keeley said before Y/n headed back out, “Our backer’s coming to town and wants to come to the West Ham match.”

“Okay,” Y/n said, “Great.”

“And they want to meet us,” Keeley continued.

“Okay,” Y/n repeated with a shrug.

Keeley paused, waiting for some reaction that Y/n wasn’t giving her. “And I’m sort of freaking the fuck out,” she finished.

“What’s there to be nervous about?” Y/n asked, holding the folder of papers to her chest, “Corporate bigwigs are all the same. They’re barely even interested in meeting the people that make them rich.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never met any,” Keeley gestured to herself, “This is all new and I don’t know what I’m supposed to wear or say or do.”

As much as Y/n knew Keeley and her came from different backgrounds, they’d developed such a solid work relationship that Y/n sometimes forgot she’d never functioned in the corporate world.

“Look,” Y/n said softly, taking a seat across from Keeley, “It’s polite chitchat, making sure they’re having a good time and maybe dodging a few bad attempts at flirting if it’s an older guy.”

Keeley’s pouted lips finally cracked and she chuckled.

“It’s not a big deal,” Y/n reassured, “Really. Just be you and you’ll charm the metaphorical pants off of them.”

Keeley smiled as she reached over the desk and threw her arms around Y/n’s neck. Y/n nearly stumbled in her heels and grabbed onto Keeley for balance.

“Thank you,” Keeley said over Y/n’s shoulder.

A hug certainly crossed all professional boundaries Y/n had set up. But Keeley needed comfort more than Y/n needed to feel protected, so she patted her boss’s back and let it happen.

—————————

The big day had arrived.

Richmond vs. West Ham.

Y/n was up early, even though the match wasn’t till the afternoon. She went for a morning run, got a tea and returned home where there was nothing to do but anxiously fidget till it was time to get ready.

This wasn’t just Greyhounds against Hammers. This was Rebecca against Rupert. Ted, Beard and Roy against Nathan. All of AFC Richmond was being watched. And while Y/n was practically invisible, she was feeling the same pit in her stomach as if the tabloids were speculating about her.

Pulling up to the stadium, Y/n was in awe of its size. It was at least three Nelson Road Stadiums. She headed through the side entrance where VIPs and press came through and spotted Rebecca and Keeley waiting for her.

“Alright,” Y/n announced her presence as she passed through the metal detector, “Here we go.”

Keeley turned to Y/n, “You think I look alright, yeah? Good enough to impress Jack?”

Y/n scanned Keeley’s outfit, it was one of the first times she’d seen her out of her signature shade of pink. “You look great,” she replied.

“Shit, I’m nervous,” Keeley confided in the two women, “I think I need to go and reapply my lip liner.”

Something about the way Rebecca nodded and told Keeley they’d see her in the suite told Y/n there was more to her words.

“Men can have codes for the loo,” Rebecca shrugged, sensing Y/n had picked up on it, “Why can’t we?”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Y/n’s head whipped around to follow Keeley.

The two women shared a laugh before turning towards the escalator. Rebecca froze after her first step step and Y/n bumped into her, grabbing onto her boss to barely keep her balance.

“Hey, Rebecca,” Rupert greeted, a gorgeous, young blonde on his arm.

“Rupert,” Rebecca was quick to reply.

Y/n caught herself before she gave her shock away. This was Rupert?

“Wonderful to see you,” the man replied warmly, undertones of ice seeping through.

“Bex,” Rebecca nodded to her replacement, “Love the new hair.”

“I haven’t changed my hair,” Bex replied in confusion.

“Nor should you,” Rebecca saved herself, “It’s perfection. Uh, may I introduce our newest member of AFC Richmond,” she gestured to Y/n, “This is Ms. Y/n Y/l/n.”

Y/n hesitatingly stepped forward, trying to mask her disdain under a smile. “Lovely to meet you,” she shook Bex’s hand first before Rupert’s.

“Lovely to meet you,” Rupert replied, his eyes sliding down Y/n’s figure before coming back up to meet her eyes, “How are you liking Richmond?”

Any negative thoughts Y/n had about the job or her co-workers left her head. No ammunition could be given, nor was she going to let the man who was checking her out while holding his wife’s hand feel validated in anything.

“It’s exceeding all my expectations,” Y/n lied with a grin that could have fooled anyone.

“Ah,” Rupert smiled back, watching his ex-wife’s new hire like a bird did its prey.

Rebecca could sense the additional discomfort and changed the subject. “So, how’s the little one?”

“Oh yeah, Diane,” Rupert replied proudly, nearly coaxing a liquid-less spit take from Y/n, “She’s already walking. Can you believe that? Yeah, drooling and pooing around the house.”

“Takes after her father,” Bex spoke up.

Rebecca managed to maintain her composure better than Y/n, who made sure to share the laugh with Bex.

Rupert looked less than thrilled with the joke and moved on quickly. “Well. Hey,” he looked back to his ex-wife, “Take it easy on us today.”

“No promises,” Rebecca said as the couple walked off.

Standing a bit awestruck at the barely concealed audacity of Rupert, Y/n stood beside her boss, trying to process the interaction.

“Thoughts?” Rebecca asked.

Y/n paused to think over her reply, “I feel like I need to strip out of my skin.”

“Yeah,” Rebecca breathed, “That’s about right. Let’s go.”

With that, they headed for the elevator up to the suites. While riding up, Y/n said a prayer to the higher power of football that the Greyhounds would be particularly ruthless on the pitch. A man like Rupert could not be allowed a win.

Up in the suites, Rebecca and Y/n spotted Higgins standing with Barbara, Shandy and a short haired brunette woman.

“Ah, Y/n, Rebecca,” Higgins flagged them down, “May I introduce, Ms. Jack Danvers.”

Once again, just barely concealing her surprise, Y/n immediately went into business mode, firmly shaking Jack’s hand.

“It’s great to meet you, Jack,” she smiled.

“You as well,” Jack replied, her lips forming an ‘o’ after, “You wouldn’t happen to be the same Y/n that headed up the managerial team at Microdom, would you?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “I would be.”

Jack chuckled, “Gary Lawson’s a family friend. He sang your praises over a dinner once.”

“Well, nothing pairs better with red wine and chicken than talking about your employees,” Y/n quipped, dropping Jack’s hand.

“On the contrary,” Jack smiled, “I feel much better knowing the money’s going toward hard-working hands.”

“Hard-working,” Barbara spoke up, grinning uncharacteristically big, “Absolutely. She’s a wonder.”

Out of all the odd moments so far in the day, a cheery Barbara was the strangest, Y/n decided.

“Oh, yes,” Rebecca placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, “Y/n is extraordinary. One of our hardest workers.”

Y/n smiled up at Rebecca, she wasn’t used to her bosses being so willing to help facilitate her success.

“Well, Keeley’s really the one you need to meet,” Y/n passed the kindness on, “The brain behind the whole operation.”

“She’s absolutely fantastic,” Rebecca added.

“Oh, here she is now,” Barbara grinned.

Y/n and Rebecca split to make room for Keeley.

“Keeley?” Barbara gestured to her boss, “This is Jack Danvers.”

“Hello,” Jack stepped forward, “I believe you have something of mine.”

“Oh, fuck,” Keeley exclaimed, “You’re Jack? This is a bit embarrassing.”

Y/n could only imagine what that meant.

“Yeah, we all thought you were a man,” Shandy interjected.

“Yeah, that too,” Keeley agreed.

“It’s like that old riddle,” Higgins added.

“What riddle?” Rebecca asked.

“You know, always a tricky one, this one,” Higgins continued, “A father and son are in a car wreck. Dad dies instantly, the son is rushed to an emergency room. A surgeon walks in and says, ‘I can’t operate on this boy. He’s my son.’ How is it possible?”

The women all gave various answers, none of which Higgins had been waiting for.

“Right, yeah, I guess that’s a bit dated now,” Higgins recovered, “So, I assume ‘Jack’ is short for Jacqueline right?”

“No, it’s short for my father wanted a boy,” Jack answered.

0 for 2, Higgins turned to the group, “I’m gonna go and sit down now, outside. Now.”

Y/n stifled a laugh while Rebecca invited Jack to get a drink, Barbara trailing very close behind them. Y/n hung back with Keeley and Shandy.

“Barbara’s obsessed with Rebecca,” Shandy leaned in to tell them, “I hope she doesn’t try and kill her and wear her skin as a suit.”

Shandy raised a knowing eyebrow before heading off to join the women at the bar, leaving Keeley and Y/n dumbstruck.

“What the fuck?” Keeley whispered.

“Hey,” Y/n nudged Keeley with her elbow, “Breathe.”

Keeley squeezed Y/n’s arm in silent thanks as they went off together.

—————————

It wasn’t until the Greyhounds came onto the pitch that Y/n truly felt the sympathy nerves. Finally enjoying attending the matches mixed with finally having experienced Rupert’s arrogance and assholery had sparked a flame within her. It was a fraction, she suspected, of what Rebecca felt.

Throughout the game, Richmond held their own, but couldn’t seem to get past the Hammer’s defense. Zoreaux, who was going by Van Damme for unknown reasons, managed to block a goal. At one point, Jamie attempted to make a goal himself when it was clear an extra pass should have been made to Zava.

“Zava was wide open,” Rebecca exclaimed as the ball bounced off the net.

Y/n sighed, remembering her and Jamie’s conversation earlier in the week. That one was entirely on him.

Nearing the end of the first half, the Hammers managed to sneak one more goal past the Greyhounds, securing a 2-0 score. Y/n watched Ted, Coach Beard and Roy panic from their side of the field while Nate Shelley screamed in victory.

“Shit,” Y/n muttered, sinking back in her seat. She glanced out the corner of her eye to where Rebecca’s eyes were trained to see Rupert, arrogantly giving a shrug.

Rebecca grabbed her purse and stood to her feet, purpose in her movement. “Excuse me,” she growled.

Y/n tucked herself in as her boss stalked down the aisle, she knew better than to stand in Rebecca’s way when she was on the hunt.

Halftime passed with polite conversation between the KJPR team. A perky Barbara was something neither Keeley or Y/n were used to, but they adjusted. Most of the time, Y/n was spent in anxious hope that Shandy wouldn’t say too much and plant any seeds of doubt in Jack’s head about the company’s abilities.

When Rebecca returned, she looked to be in much better spirits. Y/n waited expectantly for an answer, Rebecca simply smiled and settled back into her seat.

The coaches returned to the pitch.

West Ham next.

Then Richmond.

Even with a great distance between them, the anger was visible in each of the Greyhound’s posture. They stalked past Nate, their former kitman, as if they were just barely holding themselves back from jumping the man. The moment was ripe with every kind of bad energy.

Then it got worse.

The Greyhounds became feral on the pitch. They were straight up attacking the Hammers, earning themselves red card after red card.

“What the fuck?” Y/n mumbled. This wasn’t the type of ruthless she’d wanted them to be.

Dani, the human embodiment of sunshine, was practically spitting on the other players. Sam, an actual angel, got uncharacteristically aggressive. Richard downright hurled the ball at one of the Hammers. Isaac had to rip him away. Richmond had lost three players due to the display of pure rage.

Y/n glanced down at the coaches as Isaac proceeded to shove one of the Hammers to the ground. Ted had his head in his hands. Nate Shelley was looking on smugly. What the hell had happened during halftime to inspire this behavior?

Finally, the match came to an end, 4-1. Zava had managed to score one goal and West Ham had snuck in two more amidst the chaos.

“Shit,” Rebecca muttered, spotting Rupert victoriously hugging his wife while locking eyes with his ex, “Shit. Shit.”

Keeley tried to stop Rebecca from leaving, but she needed to be alone to lick her wounds. Y/n glanced over to Higgins who puffed out his cheeks with a heavy breath.

“Right,” Y/n turned to Keeley, who was trying to make cheery conversation with Jack and Barbara, “Want me to handle interviews?”

“You sure?” Keeley asked.

“You stay here,” she nodded towards Jack, who was talking to Barbara, “Make us look good. I’ll deal with the rest.”

“Yeah, probably best,” Keeley agreed, “Thank you.”

Higgins and Y/n set off downstairs to the locker room to collect the players they needed.

“Probably best not to pick any of the boys that got red carded,” Higgins suggested as they headed down the hall.

“Oh, I’m not picking any of them,” Y/n retorted with barely concealed frustration. She knocked on the door and opened it a crack, “Everybody dressed?”

When there was no reply, she opened the door and took a step in, coming face to face with the team. They were all wallowing in various degrees of shame and rage.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted said, lacking his usual enthusiasm, “Who do you need?”

Y/n scanned the faces that cheerfully greeted her each day. Some, like Colin and Sam, avoided her watchful gaze. Jamie watched her expectantly. Quite frankly, she didn’t feel like dealing with any of them.

“Zava,” Y/n turned to the star player, “Do you mind?”

“I do not,” he replied, rising and joining Y/n in the doorway. He didn’t leave until he looked back on the team once more, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. Y/n didn’t bother to hide her dismay either as she shut the door.

—————————

With Zava having done his interviews and Ted having addressed the press himself, Y/n could retire for the day, though relaxing was a ways off.

She came back to join Keeley and Jack, who were sipping champagne and chatting. Hopefully Keeley had made them look a lot better than what they’d presented.

“All good?” Keeley asked.

“As good as we can be,” Y/n answered, coming to stand beside Jack, “Whatever Keeley’s told you about how the team usually carries themselves, I’d like to second it.”

“Loud and clear,” Jack smiled.

Shandy came through the press room door, “Well, that was a shit show. Anyway, good news. Bantr’s trending.”

“It is?” Keeley asked.

“Yeah,” Shandy answered, “Pretty sure the change to the bio line helped.”

“Wait,” Y/n interrupted, exhausted by the day, “We changed the bio line?”

Keeley looked just as surprised as Shandy held up her phone. Her eyes widened as she took the mobile, before passing it to Y/n.

It read: Wanna Bang a Celebrity?

“Wha…” Y/n failed to form words.

“Who did this?” Keeley asked.

“I did,” Shandy answered proudly, “This afternoon after I uploaded the vids. You’re welcome.”

Y/n was too tired to mask her horror, she didn’t even have the strength to try. As Keeley tugged Shandy a few feet away, Y/n stayed beside Jack and lifted the corners of her mouth.

“We’re, uh, all a little off today,” she explained.

“Well, you’re hiding it very well,” Jack whispered, lightening the mood.

As soon as she saw Shandy’s face change from pride to offense, Y/n knew she couldn’t stay any longer. She was frustrated, tired and had plans for the night that needed her more.

“It was lovely to meet you,” she bade Jack farewell, “Give Gary my best.”

“You as well,” Jack smiled. The one takeaway from the day was at least KJPR’s backer wasn’t an asshole.

Y/n nodded to Keeley and avoided eye contact with Shandy as she left the press room, hastening her steps as soon as she was out of the room.

—————————

There was an unspoken understanding at the Crown and Anchor. It filled each weekend Richmond played. If they won, it would stay busy all night. If they lost, it emptied as soon as the tabs had been settled.

Suffice it to say, Y/n was sitting in near solitude.

She sat at the bar, picking at an order of chips and going through one-sheets. There were a surprising amount of apartments available in Richmond and she was overwhelmed by the options.

“All good, love?”

Y/n looked up to Mae, who was bringing her a fresh glass of water. “If you’re referring to the food, it’s great. If you’re referring to the-“

“We’re not speaking of that,” Mae interrupted, shutting the topic of the match down. Y/n had come to learn the bar owner took her Greyhound games as serious as life itself.

“I won’t fight you,” Y/n replied, going back to flipping through her papers.

“See you’re looking for a place,” Mae pointed towards the sheets, “I take it the job’s working out okay.”

Y/n snorted, “All evidence contrary to today, yes, it’s working out.”

“I told you,” Mae said with the pride of someone who knew how wise she was, “Just had to give it time.”

Y/n laughed a little, “I’ll learn to trust you eventually.”

Mae matter-of-factly nodded before leaving her patron be.

Y/n flipped through a few more papers, each property bleeding into the other till they all looked the same. She was ready to let her head drop to the counter when the papers in her hands suddenly became illuminated. She traced the light behind her, coming face to face with a blinding bulb.

“Fucking hell,” Y/n cursed, covering her eyes. She rubbed them until she could see again, Jamie’s silhouette coming into view, “What are you wearing?”

“Can’t run if I can’t see,” Jamie answered without feeling like like any further explanation was necessary.

“Why are you running at 8 o’clock?” Y/n asked in confusion.

“Three workouts a day,” Jamie replied, “Roy’s got us starting at 4AM.”

“Well, there’s light in here, so…” Y/n gestured around them.

Jamie switched off the headband’s lamp and took it off, smoothing his hair down after. He pointed to the stool beside Y/n, “You waitin’ on anyone?”

“Please,” Y/n gestured to the spot, she was too tired to fight against company.

The pub was quiet enough that the chances of Jamie being spotted didn’t require him to hide in a booth.

“I’m assuming this unholy schedule doesn’t pertain to the whole team?” Y/n asked, already suspecting Jamie’s motivation.

“Eh, no,” he answered, crossing his arms across the bar, “Just me.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n replied just as Jamie flagged Mae down and asked for a water.

“Roy’s got me on a diet,” he explained when he caught the confusion on Y/n’s face, “Only one drink and only if we win a match.”

The five letter word had them finally meeting one another’s eyes, waiting for the other to address the benched elephant in the room.

“Right,” Y/n let the sheets in her hand fall on the counter, “What the fuck happened today?”

Jamie exhaled, rubbing a hand across his face. There was so much history behind the events of the match, he wasn’t sure where to start.

“You know that sign in the locker room?” Jamie gestured to the space above them, “Above the coach’s office?”

“The ‘Believe’ one?” Y/n replied.

“Yeah,” Jamie folded his arms again, “So…it’s a whole thing but, it means a lot. And when Nate left,” he inhaled to go over that bit of the past, but Y/n stopped him.

“I know who Nate is,” she said. His smug smile was still burned into her brain from earlier in the day.

“Right, so,” Jamie sighed, his tongue poking at his cheek in frustration, “We won last season, Nate stormed out and quit. But Roy and Beard put on this video for us during halftime of him…tearin’ up the sign.”

Y/n rested her head on her hand, listening intently.

“And…” Jamie grasped at the air, “It’s a big deal. To us. To the team. And I think we all just feel…” he paused, “Fuckin’ betrayed or somethin’. That he turned on us. But that sign…” Jamie shook his head, “Fuckin’….”

During her various trips to the locker room, Y/n had noticed the yellow and blue paper. She hadn’t thought anything of it, just another motivational decoration. She hadn’t realized that it held such a deep meaning to the team.

“So the solution was to get…” Y/n shrugged, “What was it, four red cards?”

“Hey,” Jamie pressed three fingers to his chest, “None of ‘em were me.”

Y/n chuckled, Jamie had managed to stay on the field the entire time. She suspected that might not have been the case a few years prior.

“I get it,” Y/n nodded, “Team loyalty. I mean, I think we’d all have preferred you channeled your anger a little more productively, but…”

Jamie bobbed his head, shame over how they’d dealt with their feelings had begun to set in over the last few hours. But he still couldn’t say he regretted it. Not fully.

“Well, Sky Sports is going to have a field day with you all,” Y/n sighed as she fished through her chips.

“All they’ll be talkin’ about is Zava,” Jamie made his voice more nasally when he uttered the name, “Since he’s the only one of us you wanted today.

Y/n quirked an eyebrow at him, “Well, I was slightly worried that Isaac might dropkick the camera man or Dani might bite a journalist or something.”

Jamie twisted his lips, half-smiling. He couldn’t fault her that.

“Let’s just categorize this day in the ‘suck’ column and move on,” Y/n said, slipping a one-sheet to the back of her pile.

“I’ll second that,” Jamie agreed, stretching his neck to look at the papers, “What’re you looking for a place?”

“Yeah, figured since I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” Y/n tried to organize the pile somewhat, “Might as well cut down on the commute.”

Jamie held out his hand for the paper in Y/n’s. He examined the square footage, but mostly the street name.

“Oh, this is a shit area,” he commented, reaching for the Sharpie Y/n had laying nearby.

“I don’t think there are shit areas of Richmond,” Y/n shot back, watching as Jamie made a large ‘x’ across the picture of the apartment, “Wait, what-“

“I’m saving you from overpaying for a crap flat,” Jamie capped the marker and gestured for the other sheets, “Lemme see the others.”

Y/n looked between him and the pile, confused as to what was happening.

“C’mon,” Jamie wiggled his fingers.

She slid half the stack across the bar to him, keeping the other half for herself.

Jamie began to read the details of the first listing over. “This one’s on the other side of town,” he stated.

“I don’t care about that,” Y/n replied, “So long as it’s in town. Plus, it’s got a balcony.”

Jamie held up the next paper and compared the two. “This one’s shit too,” he reached for the marker again, predicting Y/n’s reaction, “Just trust me.”

The two of them sat at the bar, scooting their stools together until the pile had been thinned out and the day had ended more pleasantly than it began.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sabelcities

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #ted lasso x reader #heartfirst

452 notes · View notes

starshapedkookie · 2 years

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At the End of the Day

summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends for 8 years, going through absolute hell and back together. After senior year of high school, you and Jungkook began a tradition of taking annual vacations together during the summer months. This summer is no different, with you and Jungkook celebrating graduating college just a couple months prior. You're set to move to NYC after the summer, with you and Jungkook soaking in the sun and as many moments as you can together. You'd think nothing could ever tear your friendship apart with him, but when you've sat on the beach for too many days in a row watching him surf, you can't help but wonder - when did your best friend get so hot?

➢ pairing: jungkook x female reader

➢ genre: high school friends to lovers, ex-baseball player jungkook, beach/vacation au, fluff, smut, a little angst

➢ warnings: language, angst, use of edibles, drinking, graphic depictions of smut (fingering, fem. receiving oral, light choking, dom-ish(?) jungkook, protected sex, obscene use of term baby) also i know that in the little mood board i created, the girl is a teeny white girl & i don't want to alienate any of my poc readers at all - i just thought these pics fit the vibe so take them with a grain of salt 😊

➢ word count: 13.3 k

➢ mini playlist: at the end of the day by wallows, satellite, late night talking, carolina by harry styles, no angel by beyonce, ICE (we should do drugs) by labrinth, unusual you by britney spears

posting this in honor of BTS' 9th anniversary. i think i will be sad about their hiatus for the next few days, but i know amazing things are coming for them. bts has saved me more than anyone could imagine - and this story feels like a love letter to jungkook. i hope you all enjoy.

∞

You’re secretly watching him through your sunglasses, bottom lip tucked between your teeth in your observation. The sun’s rays are hot and you should probably reapply your sunscreen, but you can’t budge in your chair. From this distance, he probably thinks your eyes are still focused on the open book in your lap but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You’re not exactly sure when Jeon Jungkook became so sexy. It was definitely a slow burn of growth and puberty overtime, still shocked that your best friend of 8 years looked like this now. Muscles covering his body; leaned out and defined just enough. His hair cut immaculately after a few rough stints of trying to grow it long the last two years of college. Multiple piercings in his ears and you can’t even get started on the eyebrow and lip piercing he’s gotten in the last six months. Tattoos—god his fucking tattoos—covering the entirety of his right arm; shoulder to hand. The only thing that remained the same about him was his goofy personality and lame attempts he called jokes.

When you had first met Jungkook, he was 15 and you were 14, only a few months younger than him. High school orientation is where you met to be exact. Perhaps out of privilege, both of you ended up at the same private high school—nationally ranked for its academics and sports. It’s not hard to guess what you were there for and what he was there. Jungkook was one of the shyest people you had ever met at the time. You’d later find out that he was scouted by the high school’s baseball coaches to join the program. He was skinny like a tree branch, had a black bowl cut, and a nose too big for his face. You don’t know exactly why the two of you ended up becoming best friends but either way, you were grateful that he was in your life.

It’s just now, your friend just happens to be insanely hot and more confident than ever. Like you’ve said, you’re not sure when this transformation happened or how you were able to ignore it for so long, but goddamn—

You quickly shift your gaze away from Jungkook as he begins to make his way back to your chairs from the water. Your focus goes back to the pages of your book—a contemporary beach romance—very fitting for your vacation to the beach this year. Jungkook makes his appearance as you’re adjusting your sunglasses, setting down his surfboard on the sand with a thump—a hobby he’s picked up in the last couple years.

You bring a hand up to further block the sun as you smile up at him, “How’s the water?” You ask.

A playful smirk slowly spreads across his face and you soon regret your words when he leans over you, shaking his head of hair like a dog.

“Jungkook! Quit it!” You yelp at him when the cold water its your skin, holding your book out to protect its precious pages. He laughs, clearly proud of himself—you having to make a conscious effort to ignore how his abdominals contract with each suck in of his breath.

“It’s alright, waves are pretty easy today,” he says running a hand through his wet hair to get his bangs out of his face.

“Just be careful out there, please,” you tell him like it’s a warning.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he pauses as he takes a long drink of water. “How’s the book?” He asks as he sits down in the chair beside you, throwing on his pair of sunglasses.

You gulp, almost not even hearing his question.

“It’s cute,” you say, book marking your page and setting it down on the towel that’s between you two, “Kind of repetitive though.”

He nods once before looking away from you, outstretched beneath the sun, “All the books you read are the same,” he chuckles, shoving his feet into the sand.

You narrow your eyes at him even though he can’t see you behind your shades, “I’d beg to differ,” you tell him, “Just because I like romances with happy endings doesn’t mean they’re all the same,” you defend yourself.

He glances at you, a smile playing on his lips, “Sure.”

“Fuck you Jeon, when’s the last time you’ve even read a book?” You challenge, “The last textbook you ever had to read in college?”

He makes a hum in not-so deep thought, “Probably,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes with a laugh escaping your lips. Though Jungkook doesn’t voice it, he likes hearing you laugh. “This reminds me of the first trip we took,” he adds in.

You hum in agreement, a small smile forming across your face.

Both of you then lay in silence as you pick up your book again, soaking up the sun and sound of waves crashing a few hundred yards away from you. Silence is never awkward between you two. It hasn’t been for years at this point. You enjoy his company enough that there’s no need to talk to each other constantly. You know everything about him and he knows everything about you—minus the minuscule crush you’ve developed for him overtime. It’s innocent really; Jungkook was your best friend, funny, attractive, and you talk to him nearly everyday. It would be abnormal if you didn’t feel a twinge of something beyond friendship with him occasionally.

At least, if you tell yourself that enough; you’d hope it would be true.

As you peak at him again over your sunglasses, he’s closed his eyes in relaxation, and you begin to think about the journey that’s led you to this very moment.

After you and Jungkook made it through high school, both of you happened to receive scholarships to the same university in the city. You on a nearly full-ride academic scholarship and him on baseball scholarship. Though right before both of you shipped yourselves off to university, you two decided to take an unplanned long, beach weekend trip back to his home in Busan. It took quite a bit of convincing for your parents to ultimately let you go on a trip with just Jungkook alone. Though after Mr. and Mrs. Jeon explained that they had two extra bedrooms in their beach house and you two were ensured you had to check in with whatever you decided to do, your parents caved. You’re not even sure you and Jungkook would call it a vacation now, but at the time, it was so fun. So fun in fact that both of you decided after that trip, you two would continue to take summer trips together after the school year ended.

Throughout your semesters at university, both of you worked part-time jobs despite your busy schedules to save up for your trips. Jungkook usually worked more hours in the Fall, given his baseball schedule in the Spring was more demanding. Yet you two somehow always made it work. The year after freshman year, the two of you went to Seoraken National Park for five days, hiking and taking multiple dips in the hot springs. After sophomore year, you both decided to save a little more and fly to Tokyo, though staying in the absolute most-dirt cheap hotel you could possibly find.

It’s after this summer where Jungkook’s life completely fell apart—every time you look at the scar on his knee, a chill is still sent down your spine. You remember the day so vividly—an open scrimmage in the Fall with the rival university in the city. Of course, you went to support Jungkook with your roommate Lisa, excited to see Jungkook officially play as captain—an unheard of accomplishment for a junior on the team. You’ll never forget the scream he yelled out as soon as he slid into the home plate, the opposing catchers cleat getting twisted up under Jungkook’s knee. He rolled onto his side, clutching his leg in agonizing pain as the crowd watched in shock.

Jungkook had torn his ACL and MCL, as well as multiple smaller ligaments and muscles in the surrounding area of his right knee. In a fucking scrimmage, he would say through anger, frustration, and tears. The injury was career ending and that was the only time you’d ever seen Jungkook cry in your years of friendship. Jungkook had gone from someone who was expecting to be drafted in the first or second round, to someone who had lost their baseball scholarship and a fucked up knee for the rest of his life. Jungkook almost didn’t even finish school after that, though through the pressure of his parents and you, he walked across the graduation stage with you less than two months ago. You were proud him, star baseball player or not, though you know it’s something he still struggles with to this day even if he doesn’t voice it.

After Jungkook’s knee had healed through physical therapy and other treatments, he ended up working more hours and working with little league teams in the city for extra money. By the end of the Spring semester, both of you had saved up enough money to where it was feasible to pretty much go wherever you wanted. You settled on flying to Europe, doing a two week excursion that was exhausting—but worth every penny you spent. There had been some squabble on that trip between the two of you and a third party, but the last thing you wanted was to think about that.

Now you’re sat on Jeju Island with him, enjoying every moment you can get with your best friend before your life changes forever. Through countless hours of working, volunteering, and two internships, you had landed a dream job of being an editor in New York City. You weren’t due to move until the Fall, but the prospect of not seeing your friends and family made you extremely sad. It’s also why you’ve realized that whatever feelings you’ve harbored for Jungkook, must be kept secret deep within your body. It wasn’t reasonable to act upon them when you would be leaving—you wouldn’t ruin your friendship and leave Jungkook here in that way.

“Earth to Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice knocks you out of your long reverie. You hadn’t even read a full page of your book as it’s still on the page you folded in the corner earlier.

“W-what? Sorry,” you snap out of it, turning to him as you put your sunglasses on your head.

“I said do you wanna head up soon? Make some dinner? Watch a movie tonight or something?” He asks. Your heart strings pull at the domesticity and you’re nodding before you even speak.

“Yeah,” your expression is soft, “Though you’re in charge of the cooking tonight. I’ve done it the past two nights,” you warn him.

He smirks, digging around his beach bag for his t-shirt to pull on, “Fine. Only if I get to pick the movie we watch.”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” You pout. After he pulls his shirt on—which you’re thankful for—he reaches over to pinch your thigh in retaliation. You jerk in reaction, “Asshole.”

He laughs again, both of you beginning to pack up your things. Though you don’t voice it, you love hearing his laugh.

∞

Jungkook prepares a small array of yummy dishes—tteokbokki, a chicken stir fry, cucumber salad, and of course a side of kimchi. Neither one of you had been to the store since you two arrived to the island on Sunday, so there wasn’t much else to work with now on Friday. You make a mental note to create a new list and go again tomorrow, still having another week of your two week trip. The cottage AirBnB was small but had everything you two needed for the vacation. A kitchen, dining room, living room with a pullout couch (that wasn’t being utilized), a bedroom with a king bed which even had a small balcony that overlooked the beach. You definitely lucked out in terms of booking the AirBnB on the quieter side of the island, having most of the beach to yourselves the last few days.

“Excuse me?” You’re laughing as you look at Jungkook dumbfounded from his words.

His mouth turns up in the right corner as he smiles, “You heard me,” he remarks, “We should do drugs.”

He carries on his task of drying the pan he used for the stir fry, looking at you with a kink in his pierced eyebrow. You narrow your eyes at him, leaning against the counter as you watch him, fighting your own smile.

“And where are you going to find drugs on this island?” You say pointedly.

“Sweetheart, you know I have connections,” he retorts back, putting the pan back into his respectful cabinet. If there was another thing that Jungkook did to turn you on; his cleanliness. He was the most organized man you had ever met—unsure if he was actually part of the male species given the track record of your other guy friends. He was cleaner and more organized than you most of the time.

“You’re ridiculous Jeon,” your roll your eyes, “Can I trust said drugs?”

His smirk spreads even wider, knowing that he’s got you now.

“Of course, Yoongi wouldn’t sell me anything sketchy,” he says quickly leaving the kitchen. You have no idea who this Yoongi guy is, but you go along with it. You cross your arms as you lean against the counter, your eyes drifting off to the beautiful sunset over the water. You felt lucky to spend your time like this with Jungkook. He quickly comes back, a plastic bag in hand.

“What is it?” You ask him curiously.

“It’s a chocolate chip cookie edible,” he pauses, holding up the bag as he observes it, “Think of it as a two for one; dessert and a high.”

You let out a laugh through your nose, grabbing the bag from him as you inspect it from the outside. As with any edible, it looks just like a normal cookie. You purse your lips, thinking about it for a moment. You hadn’t got high in awhile—since right before graduation actually. You and your roommates shared a nasty bong, with Lisa ultimately keeping it after you all moved out. You and Jungkook had your fair share of getting high together, whether it be at parties at the baseball house or his apartment on Sundays with his roommate Taehyung.

You open the bag, sniffing it as Jungkook watches you, clearly amused. You break off a small piece of the cookie, plopping it into your mouth knowing it will take at least an hour for you to start to feel the effects of it. It tastes good, although there’s still that tinge of THC that never goes away fully with baked edibles.

You walk up to Jungkook, shoving the bag into his chest, “I’m going to shower,” you announce. He nods, biting his lip as you walk away from him, his throat feeling slightly clogged. He watches your frame as you disappear into the bathroom, calling after you quickly.

“Don’t use all the hot water!” He says from the kitchen, digging in the bag to take out his own piece of the cookie. Maybe this would help him clear his head from you.

∞

You’re giggling uncontrollably as you scroll through your phone, small cackles coming from you lips occasionally.

“Y/N stop! Give me that!” Jungkook reaches over, attempting to take your phone away from you, but his own laughter taking control.

You and Jungkook had decided to forgo the movie, opting to enjoy the balcony attached to the bedroom. It was well past 10 PM now, the sun fully set and a couple small candles and the lamps from the bedroom the only light sources. For whatever reason, both of you had been on a path of looking at old pictures of each other, you hysterically laughing at one of them from high school when both of you decided to go to the school dance together as friends. You were mainly laughing at the way he styled his hair, even then at 16 you thought it was ridiculous.

“I don’t even know why you still have that picture,” he mutters in defeat on his side of the couch.

You furrow your eyebrows at him as you push his leg with your foot. He’s sat up, right leg underneath him, head resting on his hand as he looks at you. You’re laying on your back, legs outstretched over his lap.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You push, “I think I have every known picture of you thanks to your brother.”

It’s the truth—you had more baby pictures of Jungkook on your phone than you did of yourself. He was just too damn cute and awkward. You and Jungkook’s older brother had a good relationship throughout the years, Junghyun, always making sure to send you gems of your best friend when he found them. They looked similar, though Jungkook pulled more features from his dad, including the big eyes and big nose, whereas Junghyun looked more like their mother.

“God I can’t stand him,” he groans running a hand through his freshly dried and showered hair. He’s wearing a pair of sweatshorts and a t-shirt, his tattoos disappearing in the darkness. You’re wearing a tank top and sweatpants, feeling much better since your shower, even better since your high has kicked in.

“This was a good idea,” you completely change the subject, not even really sure of your own words.

He smiles at you, “I’m full of good ideas Y/N.”

His smile make your heart thump, unable to keep your mind from going there. Your intrusive thoughts only took over when you were intoxicated. You stare at his lips a little too long before you look at your phone to change the song playing lowly from Jungkook’s bluetooth speaker.

The thing about being friends with someone of the opposite species for so long—it’s that your friends could barely hold themselves from being shitheads sometimes. It was sophomore year—right before Jungkook’s accident—when you were at one of the many baseball parties you attended throughout college. While you were drunk, you knew that succumbing to truth or dare was your own doing. You should have seen it coming from a mile away when a mutual friend and teammate of Jungkook’s—Park Jimin—dared you to kiss him. If you had been more sober, you probably would have just taken the bitch cup and moved on with your life. Though being drunk and a little too curious after your years of friendship with Jungkook, you turned to him and pressed your lips against his. He—along with the entire group seemed taken aback at your actions—hearing whoops and ooo’s during the kiss.

Neither you nor Jungkook spoke about that after the party. It was almost as if it had never happened. It didn’t bother you too much given you were drunk and being silly. It was a brief kiss, no tongue, but enough to satiate your curiosity. At least at that point in time. Now, your curiosity was getting the best of you in other feats—though you’ve sworn to yourself you wouldn’t ever cross that line.

“Do you ever think about life in like, ten years?” Jungkook suddenly asks, his gaze off to the distance over the balcony. From the cottage, you could faintly hear waves still crashing.

“Hm,” you mumble, “I guess? I don’t know…”

He looks over at you, “I do,” he says simply.

“What does the Jeon Jungkook think about then?” You press, deciding to sit up some on the couch. You grab a pillow to support your back as you settle against the armrest of the couch.

“I think about being married, having kids, that sorta thing,” his voice is low, yet serious. Through your hazy gaze, you bite your lip nervously.

“That’s very adult of you,” you try to lighten the mood with a giggle. He doesn’t laugh, only returning a fainted smile.

“Do you not?” He looks away from you sounding rushed and little nervous, picking at loose skin along his cuticles.

You suddenly feel a lump form in your throat, pulse uneasy, anxiety rises in your veins. Of course you did.

“I mean yeah,” you offer weakly, “I guess I’ve just always been more concerned with the present,” you tell him honestly.

He nods, fully understanding—it’s how he used to think too until his accident. He never truly had to put much thought into his future until that day on the field changed his entire life. His future was set and then suddenly it wasn’t. Now, he worries about his future everyday and where life is going to take him. He thought he was going to play professional ball until his thirties, making enough money that he’d never have to worry about a real job. Turns out, life had other things in store for Jungkook. And with you leaving thousands of miles away; his life really wasn’t panning out how he thought.

“I like the idea of marriage you know?” He says with a hidden adoration in his tone. You find yourself softly smiling at him. “Like just having that one person for you, sharing a life together, does that sound stupid?” he exhales heavily after his question.

You quickly shake your head, “Not at all,” you say pulling your legs to sit criss-cross, “We’ll all get there one day.. I feel like our paths are set for us.”

He shrugs, feeling a little pessimistic, “I don’t know,” he breathes heavily, “I thought everything was going to work out a certain way… but I don’t know anymore,” he sounds defeated and sad. You look at him concerned, though you’re sure he’s just spitting high word vomit. You know a lot about Jungkook, but you’ve never heard him speak of such things—except during his relationship with Park Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung was Jungkook’s first serious relationship in the time span you’d known him. They met at the end of sophomore year, but only officially began dating at the beginning of junior year. While Chaeyoung was beautiful and smart enough to make you feel insecure, you weren’t her biggest fan. She kept her distance from you and you don’t know if you could exactly blame her. You were Jungkook’s best friend who happened to be a female. You want to say if you were in her shoes that you wouldn’t care who was Jungkook’s best friend, but you’re not sure could 100% say that.

You first realized that Chaeyoung wasn’t particularly fond of you when you met Jungkook at the hospital after his accident; waiting to confirm his surgery date and time. Even though Jungkook didn’t want you to go, you were the one that actually ended up leaving to not make Chaeyoung uncomfortable. Throughout the rest of junior year, tension built between you and Chaeyoung, and some distance grew between you and Jungkook. You’re sure that she never knew about the kiss you two had shared the year before; she would have freaked the hell out.

Jungkook was in love with Chaeyoung though. He fell hard and he fell fast—giving all of his love and extra time to her. You can vividly remember him talking about how he thought she could be the one. He was a hopeless romantic at heart but it’s when Chaeyoung told him he couldn’t go on the Europe trip you two had been planning for months that he finally stood up to her. It didn’t go over well, with her jealously taking over to the point where he broke it off with her a couple weeks before you two departed.

You thought that the trip was going to be good for him to get his mind off her but when they were consistently communicating behind your back, that’s when arguments throughout the two week trip conspired between you and Jungkook. Finally, with four days left of your trip, he decided to stop contact with her and everything between you two only went up again from there.

Though right here, right now; you can’t help but think his words are about Chaeyoung. You knew that they were acquaintances this past school year and always cordial when they saw each other. You suddenly feel insecure in the dim light, but you plaster a fake smile on your face to rid your mind of Jungkook and his ex.

“Don’t sound so doom and gloom Jungkookie,” you push yourself up and over to him, trying to make him feel better. You sit on your knees up next to him, pinching his left cheek between your fingers. He giggles but you don’t stop, pinching from his cheek to his chin, to his ear.

“Y/N I swear to god—“ are his last threatening words that you should have taken seriously because it’s not long until you find yourself being tickled to death by him.

“Jungkook! Stop!” You laugh, trying to fight yourself away from him, but his grip is too strong as he keeps you in place against the couch. You’re kicking your legs to try to get away from him as he attacks your side with his own chuckles filling up the space. To any outsider listening in, it probably sounds like a fucked up murderer situation.

You don’t even realize what’s happened until you open your eyes fully, Jungkook pinning your wrists down, his body hovering on top of yours. He’s stood with one leg on the ground, his bad knee resting between your legs on the couch. It feels like the world has stopped as you stare into each other’s eyes, your breath hitching in your throat. Jungkook has to make a conscious effort to not stare at your cleavage rising up and down as you breath in and out heavily.

“I-I might go to bed soon,” you say nervously, breaking eye contact with him to unraveling yourself from his grip. He rises as you do to give you space, wiping his hands on his shorts.

He nods, “Me too,” is all he says.

You leave the balcony to go brush your teeth and change into your pajamas. Jungkook stays behind to blow out the candles and turn off his speaker, feeling a heaviness between you two now. As he turns the bed down, his own hands are clammy, his high waring off faster than he would like. Both of you had no issue sharing the king bed when you booked the AirBnB a couple months ago, but now he’s fully regretting that decision. When Jungkook comes back from the kitchen with two glasses of water for you both, he finds you already climbing into bed in your cute matching, purple PJ set.

“Thank you,” you smile at him as he hands you the glass. You take a sip, feeling cotton mouth arise from the edible.

He climbs into bed soon after, turning off the lamp on his side of the bed encasing both of you in pure darkness.

“Goodnight Y/N,” are his last words that evening.

“Night Jungkook,” you say weakly as you’re facing away from him on your side. While you two have already made invisible boundaries when sharing the bed this past week, you make more of a conscious effort than ever to keep space between you two as you both drift off into sleep.

∞

It’s been a few days since your edible escapades with Jungkook. Both of you have seemingly moved on from the conversations had, the tension that had built up subsiding over the next few days. Now you two are back again at the beach in your normal routine. Jungkook’s just go out in the water from surfing and you’re laying on your tummy, starting the second book of your vacation. You decided to go with something different for you—a thriller about a writer brought in by another author’s husband to finish her books for her as she lies in a coma. Weird.

You know Jungkook’s back from the water when you feel water droplets scatter across your back. You look up from your book to find Jungkook sat down on his towel beside you, rubbing his right knee.

“You okay?” You ask him with concern. His major surgery scar is still less than two years old, therefore it’s still quite white and reflective in the sunlight.

He glances over to you before nodding, “Yeah I’m good, it’s just kind of stiff from surfing on it so much.”

You can’t help but feel an extreme amount of sadness when you watch him massage his skin. Your resting your chin on your hand as you study him carefully. From the moment you met Jungkook, baseball was his complete identity. It’s why people came up to him even if he didn’t want the attention. It’s what taught him discipline and hard work ethic. It’s what made him happy. The fact it was taken away from him so quickly terrifies you. You can’t even imagine the internal battles he’s had ever since that fateful day.

“Swim with me?” He suddenly asks.

Through the top of your sunglasses you glare at him, a groan leaving your mouth, “Jungkook you know how much I hate swimming in the ocean.”

He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, “Y/N there aren’t sharks in this part of the ocean,” he laughs.

You close your book not wanting to lose your place, “You don’t know that!” You retort.

He laughs again, this time ruffling your hair slightly, “I’ll protect you…” he trails off, a small pout crossing his features, “Plus it’ll make this feel better,” he’s referring to his knee.

Ugh, he really knew how to convince you.

You then agree, both getting up at the same time. You adjust your bikini to which Jungkook stares shamelessly. Your skin goes hot and you pretend you don’t see him doing so. You walk side by side to the water, a yelp leaving your lips when you feel how cold it is.

“Fuck Jungkook! It’s cold!” You whine as he continues his descent deeper. You’ve stopped at where the water hits your ankles, he’s at his knees.

“C’mon princess,” he whines back and the nickname gives you butterflies, “I’ll drag your ass in here if you don’t move woman!”

“Ugh,” you spit, “I’m coming,” you slowly walk towards him as he continues to walk deeper until he’s about to his chest, finally letting himself float against the waves after he gets over where they break.

“Y/N,” he says threateningly as you’ve stopped where the water hits your waist.

“Jungkook,” you respond but suddenly your heart sinks when he dips his body below water, disappearing beneath the surface. Your eyes widen as you look around paranoid. You know exactly what he’s up to. Though you’re expecting it, you have no time to brace yourself when Jungkook has suddenly grabbed your leg, pulling you beneath the water. You’re screaming, bubbles escaping your mouth until you reach the surface.

Jungkook has broken the water only a few inches from you as he laughs loudly, tipping his head bad. You push water towards his face, anger filling your body.

“Fuck you Jungkook!” You yell, his continuous laughter pissing you off even more.

You launch at him in the water, hiking yourself up onto his back as punishment. You wrap your legs around his torso and he adjusts you comfortably. If he was going to protect you, he really was going to protect you.

“I really hate you sometimes,” you mutter into his ear, his back rumbling against your chest as he chuckles.

“You love me,” he retorts.

You really do.

“See this isn’t too bad,” he then says looking over his shoulder to meet your gaze.

“We’re sitting ducks Jungkook,” you mumble, eyes looking around the water, still slightly paranoid. There’s a few other people in the water and a couple surfers which makes you feel a little better.

“It’s okay to get out of your comfort zone you know,” he raises a brow when you climb off his back, deciding to swim close in front of him. Both of you float with only a few inches between you two, water at your chests.

“Mhm,” you say sarcastically, “That’s what they all say before they’ve gotten their leg bit off,” you move your arms around to keep you wading. Thankfully it didn’t take long to get used to the chilly water.

He bites his lip as he watches you with an amused expression. You push away the way it makes you feel.

“You know that’s why I wanted to be your friend right?”

You furrow your eyebrows, moving to float on your back. Jungkook being the gentlemen he is, he ends up beside you, his arms giving your back some support in the water as you float.

“What do you mean?” You ask him.

You can’t see his expression as you’ve closed your eyes, the sun too bright to keep them open. His fingertips graze your skin every few seconds and you swear it feels like electricity running through your spine.

“You’ve always been the one to get me out of my comfort zone,” he points out like it’s obvious—though you’ve never had an inkling of this.

You open one eye at him in a squint, his face a lot closer to yours than you expected, “I don’t think so,” you laugh a little awkwardly as you give up on floating, settling back to your normal swimming position with him in front of you.

“I wouldn’t lie Y/N,” he laughs in return, “You’ve known me for a long time, you know how fucking weird I used to be.”

“Hey you weren’t weird,” you defend him, “Just a little awkward and going through puberty.”

He rolls his eyes, “Fucking weird,” he repeats, “I just mean I’ve never had a friend that’s always pushed me to do things I normally wouldn’t do. Hell just the vacations we’ve taken together is just one example,” he pauses, his next words cutting him a little deep, “I feel like you’re the reason I ever had a life outside of baseball.”

You bite your lip under the water as you don’t break his heavy eye contact. You’d never realize Jungkook thought that highly of you. It makes you feel giddy on the inside, but also a little sad that you were never that confident in your abilities as a friend. If anything, you thought Jungkook brought you out of your shell more.

“I’m just a small part of your life Jungkook,” is what you settle on.

They way his face falls doesn’t go unnoticed, “Trust me,” he pauses beginning a swim back to shore for you to follow him, “You’re a pretty big part Y/N.”

∞

It’s now Friday, which means you and Jungkook only have one and a half days left of your trip. The thought makes you sad, though you know that it’s not like you wouldn’t be seeing Jungkook afterwards. He lives in the same neighborhood as you for chrissakes. But given the loom of your impending move in a couple months, you couldn’t help but feel a finality of your life here coming soon.

You and Jungkook had gone out a couple times since being here, though neither of you had fully committed to getting too drunk. You had a feeling though that tonight you were ready to full let loose. Jungkook complimented you as soon as you were ready to leave, sending heat through your body. You were wearing a white two piece set—a small bralette type top with a matching mini-skirt that wrapped around your waist nicely. Your strappy heels gave you some height to Jungkook and you’re sure to any other tourist, you two looked like a couple.

Jungkook looked absolutely ravishing, the familiar lump of the past couple weeks forming when you laid eyes on him. He was dressed in an extravagant short sleeve button that was a yellow and white along with white pants to tie everything in. You almost laughed one, being you’re 99% sure the shirt is Fendi—how the hell did he afford that?—and two, you’re not sure you’d seen him in anything in sweatpants and t-shirts since graduation. Even then, it took you and Taehyung a lot of convincing for Jungkook to wear dress pants under his cap and gown.

You and Jungkook had ate dinner at a local sushi bar, getting a couple drinks there to pregame your evening. You don’t know how Jungkook ate and drank so much and keep the figure he had. It had to be genetics; there’s no other way.

It was now a little past 9 and both of you were feeling drunk—a good drunk—a happy drunk. The bar you two were at was partially outside, with a dance floor and good drinks. You and Jungkook are talking to a couple who also happen to be on vacation.

“Honeymooning is fun for sure,” the woman says, her words a little slurred, “Are you two honeymooning too?”

Both you and Jungkook begin to stutter, shaking your heads awkwardly, mumbling your words together.

“We’re not together,” you manage to get out as you lean against the bar for stability. Jungkook’s stood behind you, his chest touching your shoulder as his arm sits behind your frame protectively.

The new husband’s eyes widen, “Could’ve fooled me,” he says, “Right honey?”

“I agree Joon,” she eyes you up and down, clearly shameless as she does so. “Let’s go dance baby!” She suddenly exclaims. The couple—Namjoon and Camille—bid their farewells to you and Jungkook, leaving you two alone again at the bar.

You suddenly feel a little awkward under the strangers gaze, looking up and over at Jungkook. He’s giving them a straight smile before his eyes watch them walk away, an amused expression filling his eyes as he begins to laugh.

“You want another drink, honey?” He suddenly asks through a joke and you crack a smile, turning around to playfully push him. You catch a whiff of his scent as you stare at him intently, trying to ignore the deep stir of heat in your tummy. His gaze his vibrant as you take his sunglasses tucked from his shirt and place them over your eyes.

“If you’re paying Jeon,” you smile at him wickedly.

Jungkook orders both of you tequila shots, both of your faces scrunching up when you bite the lime for some relief. You have chills running down your spine, trying your best to keep the contents down.

“We’re going to be hurting tomorrow,” you say, sliding the shot glass back towards the bartender.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” he groans, suddenly reaching out to grab his phone. It’s buzzing in his hand, “It’s Junghyun,” he looks at you, “I’ll be right back?”

You nod, telling him you’d be right here. You watch as he walks away from you, a deep exhale escaping you. You’re intoxicated again—intrusive thoughts taking over your brain. You reminiscence over the last two weeks with Jungkook here. He makes you so incredibly happy and you’re sure that if you let yourself, you’d fall deeply in love with him—more than you already are. You’ve been through thick and thin together. You can’t let yourself go there though—it couldn’t happen. The friendship you two had between each other was too important to you. You’re not even sure Jungkook could even feel these feelings towards you. For all you know, he was just talking about his shitty ex the other day.

Your thoughts are interrupted when suddenly a man appears in front of you. A man that’s not Jungkook. He’s leaning his elbows on the bar as he waits for the bartender to take his order. He gives you a glance and you stare shamelessly. He’s quite attractive, that’s for damn sure.

“You want a drink sweetheart?” He suddenly asks, the pet name not sounding as good as it does coming from your best friend.

You find your voice over the music, “I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him knowing if you drink anymore, you’d be crossing the line of fun drunk to a miserable blackout.

He nods respecting what you’ve said, ordering two shots of whiskey for himself. You look around the bar trying to find Jungkook. It’s loud and crowded, but you haven’t been able to spot him in that ridiculous yellow shirt. You wonder what Junghyun needed that’s taking so long.

“What’s your name?” The strangers asks you as he turns his body to face yours completely.

You lean towards him some to save your voice, “Y/N,” you tell him.

A charming smile spreads across his face, “Well miss Y/N, why is a beautiful girl at this bar alone?”

You’ve dealt with many men of this caliber, so his words don’t creep you out much. Internally you applaud him for using the term beautiful, and not the typical hot or pretty.

“I’m not alone,” you tell him. He looks around the area you both are, your point not withstanding, “What’s your name?” You change the subject.

He downs his second shot of whiskey, “Jackson. It’s nice to meet you,” he offers his hand graciously and you shake it in return.

“Well Jackson,” you pause, feeling that tequila shot getting to you, “Why are you here at this bar alone?”

He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you, “I’m not alone either,” he retorts.

You nod slowly, a small smile spreading across your lips. Again, your eyes do another dance around the bar to spot Jungkook to no avail.

“Do you want to dance with me Miss Y/N?” He suddenly asks taking you completely off guard. You open your mouth then close it, only to open it again to say nothing. You should say no. You know in your heart you should say no. However with no sign of Jungkook and this Jackson guy seeming like a normal guy, you felt no guilt when you take his hand for him to take you to the dance floor.

The bar has great club and house music playing, making dancing an easy feat. Jackson is a great dancer, finding the rhythm to the songs easily as the DJ switches them rapidly. You find yourself comfortable with him, resting your hands lazily on his shoulders as he guides you through the motions. Maybe you’re too drunk, or you’re just relaxed, but you feel good in this moment. It reminds you of being a college freshman with Lisa, when you two would go to sweaty frat and baseball parties, dancing the night away with water bottles filled with cheap vodka.

The tide between you and Jackson folds when you turn around, unknowingly pressing your back to his chest. You both are swaying in the changing lights, his arms resting on your waist protectively, his head resting on your left shoulder. You’ve always been a decent dancer too, Jackson finding it impressive as you keep up with each other. When you find a hand gripping at Jackson’s hair pulling him closer to you, it’s when reality hits, time freezing in that very moment. You’ve opened your eyes after sometime, across the bar Jungkook walks in, his eyes finding yours instantaneously. His lips part, a painful expression crossing his features. He watches you only for a moment, his heels turning himself around to leave you be, heart feeling like someone’s crucifying it.

You suddenly panic, creating immediate space between you and Jackson. You turn around and lean up to his ear.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go—“ you tell him in a rush. He’s clearly confused but before you can listen to whatever he has to say, your feet pick you up to the path Jungkook must have taken to get out of here. It’s difficult to get through the crowd of people, especially in your heels and drunkenly, but you manage.

When you go to the outsider area of the bar, you don’t spot him. Shit, you think, where did he go? You start to panic, reaching for your phone out of your purse. You quickly scroll to his name, hitting the call button. You groan with an eye-roll—of course he isn’t going to fucking answer you.

You’re not completely sure he’s not in the bar anymore, but you chance it, leaving the bar alone. Thankfully the streets are well lit and there are plenty of people around to make you feel safe. You’re typing him a mean text as you walk back towards your cottage, ready to curse him out when you see him. That is, until you actually see him—then your mind goes blank.

Jungkook’s sat on the curb of a small, local convenient store eating what seems to be an ice cream sandwich. You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Jungkook!” You nearly exclaim, “What the hell are you doing?” You approach him, stumbling slightly in your heels.

He quickly notices how unstable you are, standing up to steady you, “You okay Y/N?”

You push him off you, “No the fuck I’m not okay,” you spit at him, “You just left me there?” You’re drunk and frustrated, that’s all you know.

“Here,” he offers the rest of his ice cream sandwich. You can’t resist him and you take it, eating it in two bites. He watches you carefully before saying, “Sorry, I just thought you were preoccupied.”

You throw away the paper wrapper, looking at him like he’s crazy.

“Are you for real Jungkook?” You press, not caring if you’re bringing attention to the two of you as people pass by. He shoves his hands into his pockets, exhaling heavily.

“You want to go home?” He asks with straight lips. You cross your arms over your chest angrily, what the hell was his problem?

“Do you want to go home?” You ask him in retaliation.

He only looks a you a brief moment before nodded slowly. This conversation is seriously sobering you up faster than anything has ever before and nothing productive has even be said.

He turns around, “C’mon,” he says.

“What do you mean?” You ask him confused as he’s widened his stance, as if he’s ready for you to plow over him.

“Hop on Y/N,” he says, “And don’t even try to fight me on this. I know your feet are killing you.”

He wants to piggy back you home. You stay put, hands playing with each other awkwardly staring at his back. He glances over his shoulder and says your name again.

“B-but your k-knee Jungkook,” you say hesitantly. You knew Jungkook weight lifted and did enough cardio for him to live until he was 105, but the last thing you wanted was for him to injure himself again, especially because of you.

“It’s fine Y/N, I promise,” he says, “I just want to get you home.”

As you brace yourself on his shoulders, you try to jump as light as possible to lessen the blow to his body. He catches you gracefully, adjusting your knees in his hands. And home is where you two go.

∞

After you two walk into the threshold of the cottage—you insisting on walking the last little bit of the way—a parable tension that could be cut with a knife has settled between you two. You tried your best to talk to him on the way back, but his answers were short and uninterested. You only had remnants of your drunkenness left inside you and if anything, you were tightening back up, even angrier than when you left the bar.

Jungkook’s about to walk into your shared bedroom before you call after him.

“Wait Jungkook!” You say. He stops in his tracks, turning to look at you. His face is unreadable in the dim lights of the cottage. “What the fuck happened back there?” You ask him as you take off your heels, leaving them by the couch.

“It’s nothing Y/N,” he brushes you off, turning around to continue his path to the bedroom. Of course you follow him; he expected it.

“Jungkook, come onnn,” you press, “Are you that pissed that I was dancing with someone else?” You can’t hide your anger and frustration if you tried. This wasn’t fair to you. He had paraded girls throughout college— parading Chaeyoung for a year and a half in front of you—and you never said anything about it no matter how much it bothered you.

“Y/N it’s fine, can we just,” he pauses as he looks over at you, “Just drop it?” He’s taking off his rings and bracelets, your lip tucked between your teeth.

You make an unsatisfied noise, stepping closer to him, “No we fucking can’t. What’s your problem Jungkook?”

He leans on the dresser with both hands, his muscle definition showing through his shirt as he tenses up. His jaw clenches as he closes his eyes in deep reverie. You watch him carefully, knowing you probably should tread lightly given he’s pissed. But you know what? You’re pissed too. He can’t act like that with no explanation—that’s not fair to you.

“Junghyun called me about you, you know,” are his first words as he looks over to you.

“M-me?” You stutter, confusion lacing your tone.

He pushes himself off the dresser, though he keeps distance between you two. He suddenly runs a frustrated grip through his hair, messing it up slightly.

“You know, since you’re moving halfway across the fucking globe,” he sounds bitter, though deep dejection is mainly what you hear. You moving had been a sensitive topic with him ever since the interview stage happened with you months ago. It hurt you to speak about it with Jungkook the most. The thought of leaving him crushed both of you which is why neither of you had brought it up these past two weeks.

“He was asking me if I had done it yet,” he laughs sarcastically, “Of fucking course he was.”

You’re more confused than ever and you say his name in a whisper, but he continues.

“You know the other day when you said that you were only a small part of my life, that’s when it really hit me,” he pauses, “You really don’t know how much you fucking mean to me Y/N. You’ve been my best friend for so long, been there with me through so much of my bullshit—my accident, losing my scholarship, losing my fucking life—“ he inhales deeply and you suddenly feel dizzy, unsure of where this conversation has turned.

“—And now I’m fucking losing you and I can’t even be honest with you because it doesn’t matter,” his voice breaks off as he looks at his feet. You start to panic, a roller coaster of emotions pulsing through you.

You step towards him hesitantly, “Jungkook you can always be honest with me,” you grab his forearm, “I’m your best friend for fucksakes—stop with the hysterics and just tell me what’s wrong,” you plead with him. If your words weren’t enough, your eyes were giving a show.

His bottom lip trembles as he meets your gaze. You have adrenaline running through you as he moves to rest his hands on your waist, gripping the skin tight.

“I love you Y/N,” he says letting out a deep breath before he can second guess himself.

“I know,” you tell him, “Jungkook you know I love you too.. you’re scaring me—“

“No Y/N,” he shakes his head, “I’m in love with you—like fucking crazy about you Y/N.”

His words take your breath away, stumbling slightly as you can’t believe the words he’s saying. He’s what? Jungkook’s in love with you? You part your lips, unable to form sentences, shaking your head stunned

“You don’t have to say anything,” he looks down, his forehead brushing yours, “But I couldn’t let you move without telling you—I don’t know how long it’s been but it just happened one day and I haven’t stopped since.”

“Jungkook,” you finally whisper after some silence, your palms finding solace on his broad chest, “I-I don’t know what to say,” you pause looking up through your lashes. You feel like you could cry from the up and down of your emotions.

You both stare at each other, unsure of who is going to make the next move. You decide that it will be you.

“B-but when we talked the other night about the future and stuff… I thought you were talking about Chaeyoung,” you admit, feeling a little dumb now that this secret has been spilled.

Jungkook lets out a laugh, unsure he heard you correctly, “Y/N—what, no, I haven’t spoken to Chaeyoung in months at this point,” he pauses, his strong hands gripping your forearms gently, “I was talking about you.. it’s always been you.”

There’s a silence that falls; a war raging in your head as you go through as many memories as you can with Jungkook. He’s been there for you at any moment you’ve needed him and vice versa. You couldn’t imagine a life without him and right now—you’ve finally decided in allowing yourself to be honest.

“Y/N I know this is unfair since you’re leaving but—“

“I love you too Jungkook,” you interrupt him to which he responds with a mellow what, “I know that I’m in love with you Jungkook—I have for some time now, I just didn’t want to admit it.. I-I was scared and I didn’t know how to bring it up, fuck I’m sorry—“

You’re suddenly cut off with Jungkook’s lips covering yours. You instantly melt into his lips as your eyes close, your hands finding their way around his neck to pull him down to you. After a few moments, he pulls away from you, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Is this real?” He asks, a small smile playing on his lips; all anxiousness leaving your body at once. You return a small smile, nodding in his delicate hold.

“Real,” you whisper back, chasing after his lips once again.

This time when your lips meet his, it’s more aggressive from each side, pouring out all frustration and built up pining over the years into it. His tongue opens your mouth wider and you sigh into him, tangling your fingers into his soft hair. His hands slither down from your waist to over your ass, pressing your hips into his.

You’d never thought kissing someone could feel this good. Your entire body feels aflame as you both discover each others mouths piece by piece. Jungkook’s walked you backwards against the wall, holding you up against it firmly as you both continue to kiss each other feverishly. You rest your head against the wall as his lips move from yours to your neck, your breathing intensifying as he kisses and nips gently.

“Jungkook,” you breathe heavily, as he places a kiss on your exposed shoulder, moving the flimsily strap to your top down. You get bolder with your own actions, maneuvering your hands underneath his shirt feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

His lips find yours again, “I wanted this for so long Y/N,” he mumbles against your skin as you pull him taut to you. “Remember sophomore year? When you kissed me for that dare?”

“Mhm,” you murmur in response as his hand experimentally trails its way up to cup your left breast, “How could I forget?” You tell him through a slight whine when he squeezes you through the thin material of your top.

He smirks against your lips, tugging on your bottom lip ever so slightly, “I was so happy when you didn’t drink that bitch cup,” he admits. You can’t help but giggle at his words, one of your hands resting on the back of his neck to hold him close to you, “And this is much better than that.”

You nip at his mouth again, “I agree,” you pause, your other hand playing with the buttons on his shirt, “Can I take this off?” You ask through your lashes; your voice soft and patient.

Jungkook emits deep groan from his throat, “Is this okay with you?” He suddenly asks.

You immediately nod, “Yes, yes, of course,” you begin your slow assault at his shirt buttons, undoing them one at a time.

He kisses your forehead, “Okay… I just,” he pauses, “I’m just a little nervous,” he admits as he grapples at your waist again, pulling you flush against him. He’s got a growing bulge in his pants, making your squeeze your thighs together.

“Why are you nervous?” You gaze at him with stars in your eyes, finding everything about him endearing and so lovable.

He rests his forehead against yours, “I don’t know I’ve just thought about this for forever,” he pauses, “I want you to feel safe.”

You smile sweetly at him, “I always feel safe with you Jungkook,” you tell him reassuringly. You lean forward, placing a kiss on his exposed chest when you finally undo the last button. You waste no time pushing the fabric off his golden skin, tattoos and all on fully display.

“When did you get so hot?” You pout in between his kisses along your neck and collarbone. He chuckles into your skin, his hands now exploring both of your breasts through the fabric.

“I’ve been wondering the same with you,” he kisses right between your cleavage, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of your top.

“Please—“ your breath hitches when the cold air makes your nipples taut as he drags your shirt away, “Have you seen yourself?” You’ve barely finish your sentence until Jungkook’s lips are wrapping around your right nipple, sucking and teething at the sensitive.

“Have you seen yourself Y/N?” He mumbles into your skin, paying attention to your left nipple now. “My pretty girl,” he breathes out pulling away from you, sending a fire through your veins. He grabs your hands and pulls you towards the bed not too far from the wall.

You straddle him as you reconnect your lips together, rutting against him as your hips grind down. A shiver of pleasure runs through you, a subtle moan vanishing in his mouth.

“Fuck,” he says, “Do that again, I like hearing you.”

You chuckle, kissing near his ear, “Make me,” you challenge. Jungkook bites his lip, the grip on your hips tightening.

Being as competitive as he is—it’s a challenge he’s willing to accept.

Jungkook is suddenly flipping you two over, settling between your thighs, tits shaking as you readjust yourself. You spread your legs a little so he can sit comfortably on his knees between you, his bulge more prominent than ever, straining in his white pants. Your mouth literally waters as his hands push up your skirt, exposing your skimpy little lace thong that’s barely covering your cunt at this point.

“Goddamn,” he gulps at the sight, his eyes flicking to yours quickly as your chest rises up and down in anticipation. You’re already so turned on—so wet just for him. If it was any other guy, you’d probably feel embarrassed but you were telling them truth when you said you felt safe with him.

His tattooed hand slides down to your inner thigh, a couple of his fingers running over your clothed heat. Your hips cant outwards as he does this a couple times before he decides to ultimately pull your panties off, leaving them strung across the room somewhere.

You hold his gaze as he spits onto his fingertips, now finding your bare pussy exposed for him in all its glory. He doesn’t waste time in dipping a finger inside you to test the waters. When your mouth falls open, he takes it as a good sign when you start to beg him for more.

“Jungkook please,” you push out your hips, trying to get the most of one finger though it’s no use. “I need more,” you whine.

He leans down, placing a kiss to your lips, “I know baby, I know,” you gasp when he adds in another finger, a steady strong of moans escaping you when he begins a gentle rhythm in and out of you. It’s torture the way it feels so so good, yet it’s still leaving you wanting more.

He gets a hold of your right leg, holding it up slightly so he can penetrate deeper inside with his fingers, his thumb rubbing up against the hood of your clit.

“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he says to which you obey, holding onto the side of your leg just as he was, “Good girl,” he praises you, which creates even more slick arousal.

From here, he takes one of his hands to pull your clitoral hood open, using his other to circle your bud and enter your pussy in alternating motions.

“Ah, shit—“ your hips jerk against him when you begin to feel yourself start to climb that hill to an orgasm. Your continuously moaning was sending him mad and your glistening cunt was a full invitation for him.

He shifts his weight, his lips meeting your center to which your back arches off the mattress, a strained whine from you as he flicks his tongue over your clit. It’s obscene the way he gives you head—it’s hot and messy, little to no friction as he goes from focus on your hole with both his fingers and mouth, to sucking heavily on your clit. You could feel yourself dripping on the sheets underneath you, the wetness making Jungkook involuntarily push his cock into the mattress.

“Jungkook—I’m gonna come,” you manage through your tight breaths.

“Yeah baby?” He muses against you, the vibration of his voice sending a shockwave through your already swollen clit. You nod desperately into the bed, holding his head down with your left hand as your hips chase to meet his movements.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” chants fall from your lips when you feel yourself tip over the edge, falling heavily into an orgasm that overtakes your entire body. You don’t even care if you’re loud as you moan and rile beneath him, your pussy clenching around his fingers before he pulls them out to watch your cunt clench around nothing.��

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he marvels as you come down from your high, your body clearly relaxed now as you find time to catch your breath. You lean up on your elbows as he meets you halfway to kiss you again. He tastes like you as he tongues the inside of your mouth carefully.

You scoot your body down some, hands finding the front of his pants. You can tell he’s big just by running your hand over his cock through the clothes. He inhales a sharp intake of breath when you squeeze him a little. You break your kiss to focus on getting him out of the fabric, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants quickly. You take notice of his white Calvin Kleins as he helps you push them down past his ankles.

In a rush, you tug down the front of his boxers—breath hitching in the back of your throat. He was big—the biggest you’ve ever seen—thick and long between his muscular set of thighs.

You whine when you take him in, never experiencing a want for someone so badly in your entire life.

“Can I please suck it?” You whisper, your words sounding like sweet saccharine to his ears. As tempting as that sounds for him, he wasn’t sure how long he would last with you, and he needed to be inside of your pussy when he came.

“Not right now baby,” he says firm in his tone, “I want to be inside you so bad,” he sounds just as desperate as you feel.

You nod quickly as you begin to take your skirt off since it’s still the last piece of clothing on you. Jungkook’s hands stop you quickly.

“No, no,” he chuckles, “Gonna fuck you in this pretty skirt,” he places a zealous kiss on your lips one more time before he suddenly gets up hurrying over to one of his duffle bags. He returns quickly and you watch carefully as you notice him tearing open a condom packet, his abs visible each time he breathes.

“You brought condoms?” You ask him curiously.

He smirks as he begins to roll it down over his fully hardened cock, “I’ve been bringing them with us everywhere since we went to Europe,” he explains as he instructs you to scoot back some. The thought makes you feel bubbly on the inside, laughing at him some.

“So you’ve just assumed that we’re gonna fuck one day then?” You ask him as he settles between you, rubbing his tip against your folds.

He closes his eyes briefly, before smirking again, “Never assumed, just hoped,” he lines himself up with your entrance, having to fight not to just slam right into you, “I’ll start slow okay?”

You nod as you grip behind his neck and shoulder with each hand. Once Jungkook begins to push into you, you literally forget how to breathe. Jungkook groans as he bites his lip in full concentration, pushing a little farther.

“It’s okay, breathe baby,” he encourages, “I know you can take it. My baby can take it, right?”

He knows very well you can—he just wants to hear you say it in your voice that’s laced in honey and arousal for him.

You nod faster that you ever had, “God, yes Jungkook I can, yes I can,” you finally find your oxygen as he pushes in slowly to the hilt. Your jaw was slack as his forehead rests against your own, a burning between your legs but pleasurable enough that you begin to involuntarily clench around him.

“Shit baby, don’t do that,” he warns, “This tight little pussy is all mine, right?”

“Of course Jungkook—“ he pulls back, then pushing back in, your hips canting upward to help him fulfill every inch inside you. “Oh my god—“ you whimper as he slowly begins to find his pace.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes, fuck yes, Jungkook just please don’t stop,” you beg, “Go faster, please.”

One of his hands grip your right hip, the other fisting the sheets by your head as he does as he’s told, picking his pace up slowly but surely as the seconds pass. Its blissful heaven having him fill you up so good. You’d never thought you’d be in this position with Jungkook, but as time passes you wish that you two had got around to it a lot sooner.

With each snap of his hips, your body moves upwards given force. A mantra of noises come from you as you watch his brows furrow from above you, strained groans and breathes escaping his lips. You could feel the simmering of another orgasm approaching you as his perfect stroke hits your g-spot. You grab at his face to steady him; his pace thrown off a bit when you lean up to kiss his lips gently.

“Let me get on top,” you whisper to him. He tugs on your lip, unsure if he wants to give up control but with you, he’d relinquish any day. He pulls out, leaving you hallow with you quickly pushing him off of you and down to the mattress. His back is rested against the pillows and headboard to which you grab with one hand, using your another hand to line yourself back up with him.

After you sink down, your arousal making it easy this time—you begin to find a pace against him that’s calculated to hit your insides in all the right areas. Jungkook grips your hips, pushing your skirt up slightly as he marvels up at you, drunk in a haze of you and you only. With uneven breaths, you can tell you’re on the verge of coming again, so he licks his thumb before he places it on your clit. Each touch of your hips presses firmly against his finger, explicative falling from your lips in a rush.

“God—Jungkook, I-I can’t,” you choke out, squeezing around him tightly as he begins to push his own hips up to meet yours.

One of his hands makes it way to your throat, pulling your forehead down to his as he takes the oxygen away from you. It’s too much—it’s all too much.

“Yes baby, you can,” he encourages, “My pretty girl, come with me,” he adds after he begins to hold you in place some, shoving his hips up in a brutal pace to chase his own climax.

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit, hit tipping backwards as you let out a half-scream of his name, jumbled together with high pitched moans. It goes on longer than your last one, convulsing around his cock as you lean forward in a daze.

Jungkook’s close—his lip tucked into his teeth, brows deeply furrowed as he continues his pace up inside you. With a bated breath, he announces he’s going to come and you encourage him just as he did you. He spills into the condom with a whiney groan in submission to you, his movements coming to end an end shortly after he rides his climax out.

He’s got his arms wrapped around your torso and you cradle him to your chest as you both try to catch your breaths. He lifts your hips slightly to let himself fall out of you, though he keeps you close to him after, looking up at you through a lazy smile.

You return one to him, meeting your lips to his. The kiss is gentle and love worthy as your heart swells so much it feels like it could burst for the man beneath you.

You pull away from him, “Can I take this skirt off now?”

He chuckles before nodding, placing a kiss on your shoulder before you move off of him to discard the final article of clothing on your frame. You climb back into bed after you throw on a slinky tank top and use the bathroom—a UTI was not going to plague you. Jungkook pulls on a pair of briefs, opening his arms up to you once he climbs back in. You cuddle up right next to him, an arm slung around his bare chest, leg over his as he pulls you closer with one arm. The two you mindlessly talk about nothing before you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. The last thing you recall is Jungkook placing a kiss on your head, telling you that he loves you again, leaving little to no space between each other this time on the bed.

∞

The bright sun is what wakes you up the next morning, a strained mumble coming from you as you stretch out on the bed. You’re halfway on your back, halfway on your side when you open your eyes. You rub them with your knuckles to clear them of any matter. When the room fully focuses, you freeze in your position, stomach dropping a little bit. Your head hurts from the alcohol but it wasn’t enough alcohol to make you forget what happened.

You and Jungkook had had sex and professed pining love to each other.

You quickly turn over to find yourself alone in the bed, your anxiety and cortisol levels skyrocketing. You also take notice that Jungkook’s not out on the balcony that connects to the room. You sit up a little too quickly for your headache, taking a moment to steady yourself.

You grab your phone off the nightstand, checking the time and any messages you have. There’s only a few that you decide you’ll answer later. Nothing from Jungkook.

You push the sheets and duvet off your frame, hurrying over to your suitcase to pull on a pair of shorts. You quickly make your way out of the bedroom, finding the living and kitchen space empty. Maybe he was in the bathroom?

“Jungkook?” You call out. No answer.

You suddenly feel like you’re going to get sick. Insecurity and all other horrifying thoughts cross your brain. Did he leave you here? Did he get scared and go home? Did he really fuck you only to leave you?

You feel like you could cry as you lean onto the couch for support. You hold back your tears, breathing heavily in and out to keep yourself calm.

Where the fuck—

The door to the cottage is suddenly unlocked, pushing open to reveal your best friend in all his glory. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, carrying a brown bag in one hand, balancing two coffees on his arm.

“Oh, good morning!” He flashes his million dollar smile at you as he sets down all of his belongings on the kitchen island.

You stand there with a pout, not saying anything to him. He looks at you slightly confused, walking over to see what’s wrong.

“Are you okay?” He asks with concern, grabbing gently behind your elbows.

You push at his chest with flat palms, “I thought you left me,” you whine. A smile cracks open as he laughs some.

“Why would I have left you?” He questions you, “I just went and got us some breakfast while you were still sleeping,” he explains.

“Well I can see that now,” you push back, “I just thought.. maybe you got scared and left,” you trail off, looking away from him now that you feel a little dumb for jumping to such horrible conclusions.

Jungkook pulls you in for a hug to which you return it like a kid grabbing onto their teddy bear tightly.

“I would never do that Y/N,” he says placing a kiss to your head, squeezing you playfully as he sways you dramatically, “I’m kind of offended that you think I would,” he then says with a pinch to your ass cheek.

“Ow!” You push yourself off of him with a laugh, “Sorry, it’s just,” you chew on your lip when you meet his gaze, “I don’t really know how to go about this whole friends to lovers thing.”

He pulls you to the kitchen so you two can begin to eat your breakfast. The coffee is great; just what you needed to cure your headache.

“It’s simple,” he says as he sits down beside you after he’s placed your breakfast sandwiches out.

“Is it really?” You push through a mouthful of food—gross you know, but Jungkook was the last person to care.

He quirks that pierced eyebrow at you that just drives you absolutely mad, “Hell yeah. We’re still best friends we’re just gonna have lots of sex now.”

You look at him stunned before you both are laughing hysterically together. Maybe he is right. Simple. As the two of you eat your breakfast, you can’t help but feel so very happy but also so very sad. The two of you have created a bubble of paradise and it’s going to burst as soon as you get back on the plane to head back home.

“Jungkook,” you say, turning the conversation serious after you both have finished your meals. He responds with a hm? “I’m still moving after the summer,” you bring it up hesitantly given how touchy it is; but there was no escaping and hiding from the truth. You were leaving; Jungkook was staying here.

He tenses up in his seat, pursing his lips as he glances over at you, “That’s another reason Junghyun called me last night,” he begins. You look at him confused, asking what he means, “I’ve been thinking about telling you about my feelings for so long Y/N, and I clearly have shit timing,” he laughs ironically, “But Junghyun has known for awhile now—I think before I even knew it but um,” he pauses, “He made me promise to him that by the end of this trip that I would tell you, so he was on my ass about it last night.”

You smile at him sweetly, resting your hand over his, “Well now you can tell him you kept that promise,” you offer.

His gaze doesn’t quite meet yours, “Yeah, but that’s not all,” he pauses as you listen to him, “I’ve been applying to jobs in New York,” he admits.

Your lips part as your eyes widen, “What?” You’re nearly breathless as you ask the question—feeling like Jungkook took a baseball bat to your chest. “Why would you do that?” You press.

He swallows heavily, “I just, I knew whenever you said you were going there that I just couldn’t not try with you,” he pauses, his gaze looking almost apologetic, “I didn’t want to be four thousand miles away from you so I panicked and started applying for jobs there,” he explains, “I don’t want you to be mad, and I’ve already talked to my family about it and they’re all okay with it,” he says in a rush, “I just didn’t want you to be alone there, whether I confessed my feelings to you or not.”

He’s chewing on his lip and you can tell he’s nervous. You turn over his palm so you can intertwine your fingers together, giving him a soft gaze.

“While this has completely caught me off guard,” you say honestly, “I would never be mad at you over this,” you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “Did you really apply to jobs there because of me?”

He nods a few times before he hangs his head low. You take your other hand and push his shorter fringe away from his face. While you’re positive many more details have to be worked out, that fact Jungkook made this decision makes you feel an amount of butterflies and love you’ve never experienced before.

“And you’d for sure want to be in New York?”

He looks up at you with those big doe-eyes that haven’t changed from the day you met him, “I’d go wherever you were Y/N. It could be the worst fucking place in world and I’d go there with you.”

You lean over, pressing your lips to his gently.

“I love you.”

He smiles in return, “I love you more.”

You pout some, “That’s not fair—no one is allowed to ‘love more’.”

He kisses you again gently as he pulls you from the bar stool to stand between his legs. His hands squeeze your ass playfully as you try to pull away.

“Well I can be the exception,” he leans into you, his arms wrapping around you protectively. You roll your eyes, a short laugh escaping your lips.

“You know what this means?” You ask inquisitively.

“What?”

“Lots of sex to be had,” you emphasis, “And even more of blowjobs.”

His eyes widen, his jaw slightly clenching and you swear he whines as he looks up at you, pressing your front to his crotch, “Can we start that sooner than later?”

You give him your answer through another kiss and moving your hands at the waistband of his pants. God, you think as you take in the already domesticated environment you two have made together, you could really get used to this. Jeon Jungkook was your best friend and at the end of the day—all you two needed was each other and somewhere to go.

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a-a-a-anon · 11 days

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absolutely fascinated by young dee who is criminally under-discussed so here is my dissertation on what happened in her college years (ft. dr. gainer, setting her roommate on fire, being institutionalized)/my idea for a fic that I will almost certainly never write/my way too serious take on a few throwaway dee lore lines

timeline background: we know that dee majored in psychology ('charlie got molested') and got "three fourths" of the way in (meanwhile dennis finished his psych minor.) assuming this was a four year program, I'm gonna guess that in her third year she got institutionalized and most likely had to drop out ('gun fever too: still hot'.) we also know that she had her back brace until she was twenty ('underage drinking'), so I'm guessing that means she got her back brace off in her third year.

we know that dennis fancied himself a psychologist since he was young, but I think dee did too. in particular I think she was wary and interested in her brother's psychology; she seems very aware of his psychopathy and bpd in 'making dennis reynolds a murderer' and 'psycho pete returns.' in my head she's been interested in dennis' psychology since they were kids and she saw him snapping crows necks. so instead of forcing her way into acting school, she studied psychology to better understand her brother (and also deep down, herself, who is very much the other side of the same fucked up coin.) it also meant she could tell herself she could study her characters even better when she became an actress.

i think she put in (her version of) genuine academic effort to get in, fuelled kind of by spite (remember the way she studied that thick medical book in 'hero or hate crime' or her very quick math in 'boggs: ladies reboot'). she studies books and gets cricket to quiz her and she still fails to get into penn. but frank always pitied her (i think she was his favorite of the twins-remember "let your sister into the gang", "that's my girl!", "i'm sorry the grift didn't work out, sweetie") so he shells out cash to get her in, but also to get her away from home so he has to deal with her even less.

dennis wants to do anything dee does but better and he wants to keep her close by (to watch her crash and burn, and also because he's weirdly possessive-see 'the gang broke dee' "i'm your select!"). and obviously he's barbara's favorite. so barbara gives him money to get in too. she also gets him into a frat and pays for his classes and his rent and everything he needs. dee has to live in a dumpy dorm with a female roommate.

but college presents dee a chance to moult her previous place in life where she was known as a monster (remember how insistent she was that "people can change!" in 'franks pretty woman'. I think dees always wanted to believe she can shed that feeling she's inferior, but she never has). in my head her female roommate is basically normal-has real friends of her own, mentally stable, attractive-which is exactly what dee craves. dee wants to be popular and well liked and she wants to infiltrate her roommates life, imitate her, be in the Cool group. and she places all her hopes on a friendship with the roommate but dee has never navigated real female friendships before, not with someone like her. deep down she also wishes she found what dennis found in mac, whatever it was, because ever since dennis met mac he's never been as close to her. and i do think dee is some flavor of queer. and the roommate is well liked in the way that dee admires and envies. so there is that blurriness between wanting to be her and wanting to be with her. in my head her roommate looks like the woman from dee's fantasy in 'the gang saves the day' (and they both represent that promise of escape from dee's shitty life).

dee is so desperate for the roommates approval and her love and her life that she goes insane, copying and flattering and competing with her. ever the shitty actress, she tries to emulate her, but comes off as manic and creepy. and maybe her roommate is nice enough to not completely shun her, recognizing that she's struggling. maybe in dees mind they actually are becoming friends when her roommate asks things like "are you okay?"

and dee has to talk about her plan with dennis because he's the only person who would Get It. and she makes it sound like it's almost working. dennis feels jealous and worried and threatened that maybe dee might actually be seen as normal, especially when she gets her back brace off in the third year. so dennis fucks her roommate, more of a show that he owns and controls each and every pathetic part of dee’s life than anything else. and so that dee knows she'll never be as good as him, she'll never as easily charm people as dennis does. (or at least he tells her he does).

to prove that To Someone dee is Good Enough, and so desperate for attention, dee (who's been groomed all this time) enters a sexual relationship with her professor dr. gainer. she tells herself she has the power in it, that she seduced him ("he didn't molest me. i had sex with him 'cause i wanted to.") and she has a mental break, because the thing she told herself held her back from being loved (her back brace) is finally gone by now and yet she still feels like a monster, and the only scrap of "love" she can get is from her professor.

and then she can't take the fact that she can steal her roommates clothes, can emulate her sexual prowess (in dee's own fucked up, delusional way), and still neither be well liked like her nor be loved by her. so maybe dee will always be a monster. so dee tried to burn her roommate in her bed, because she represented the promise of change and popularity, and that promise was a lie and dee's effort was for nothing. and she's institutionalized.

and i think there was kind of a falling out between the twins and their parents, because barbara wants to abandon dee but dennis can't help but visit her. and frank doesn't even step foot in a place that reminds him of his traumatic childhood, and avoids dee even more than he used to because she is his childhood mirror image. so the family becomes even more fractured and estranged.

and maybe dee becomes medicated and slowly crawls her way halfway to normal by the first season (her acting classes are so well-adjusted, taking part in healthy hobbies of her!). until her father comes back into her life and everything falls apart <3

side note, even though dee is crushingly lonely-"I just got a cat 'cause I wanted something to hang out with. I don't have, you know, a roommate or anything, and I don't really have anyone to talk to..."-AND she struggles to pay rent whenever frank cuts her off, i hc that she refused to ever get a roommate in particular female roommate again after this because both her internalized misogyny got worse and she was afraid of what would happen (what she would do) again.

#THIS IS FOR THOSE WITH THE DEE BRAIN ROT WHO SEES HER AS A SHAKESPEAREAN TRAGIC HEROINE WHO JUST WANTS TO BE THE BELOVED COMEDIC RELIEF #also no way in HELL dee was genuinely ever like nice roller rink ep dee. in my head that was the guys absolving themselves for turning dee #even more traumatized and isolated and jaded thru their treatment of her. bc it was obviously a freak accident shes Like That right #(in the sense of like unreliable narrator/faulty memory/lack of any care or attention given to dees life)#dee reynolds #iasip #iasip headcanons #nina.rambles #posts with an audience of me myself and i #tw grooming #tw mental illness #not sure how to tag this!#to me she is the main character.#dennis reynolds #bc there is heavy mention of him too #trash twins #frank reynolds #barbara reynolds

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strawburry01 · 29 days

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We're Going to Be Friends

Summary: How Y/N and Aaron first start talking during their time in college (Aaron shouldn't be let into a lab)(also yeah, listen to the song when you read if you want)

Word Count: 2k

Authors Note: I don't think anyone really noticed but I'm sorry this took a second longer than normal to get out. I just had a really weirdly abrupt and messy break up (?) and when I usually write I've just been sleeping but we are doing better now that that's been resolved but like- guys what the fuck? Anyway, this was nice to write to kinda get out of my head. Cheers xoxo

It was your first day in the forensics chemistry lab after waiting two years to even be let into the lab space. You held your bound lab notebook to your chest as you walked in alongside the rest of the class and took your places at the lab benches, silently picking your lab partners. You were with a wiry girl with big blonde curly hair and thick-rimmed glasses. Hey at least she looked smart- it meant you wouldn’t have to carry the two of you to an A grade. As the class waited for the professor to come in you couldn’t help but overhear the laughter from across the classroom. Your head looked up to the source of the noise only to see the grinning Aaron Hotchner looking at his lab partner. Aaron and you had been in many of the same classes but had never really interacted beyond the polite head nod when bumping into each other. Sure there was nothing wrong with him, in fact, there was a lot that was right with him. He was handsome, in a bit of a nerdy Clark Kent sort of way, always looking like he rolled out of bed effortlessly and threw him glasses on before running to class. He was also fairly nice when it came to the general population. The Criminal Justice pathway in uni was highly competitive so it often meant everyone was insanely cutthroat, but he was always offering hints and help to others you’d notice. He was smart, very smart, but was very humble about it, in a way that only someone watching him could really realize how much he knew, and unfortunately, you did. Not even purposefully, but your eyes always had a way of falling onto the back of his head in class. Perhaps it was because he was the most attractive man in the cohort, or perhaps it was because you were just so intrigued at his charm.

The lab started and you were drawn from your thoughts as you tied your hair back and slipped on the snug safety goggles, glad that they even made everyone, even him, look a little bit dorkier. You and your lab partner (who you found out went by Jen), started setting up the titration and you pulled out your lab notebook to start writing the results down. The two of you small-talked about classes and movies as she slowly let the base solution drip into the acid, waiting for it to eventually turn pink. After running through a round you two switched positions and you leaned over as you tried to line up the new beaker under the buret.

Swiftly there was a new figure besides you. At first you assumed it was the professor, about to harass you about some incorrect technique or form, but you were surprised to see it was Aaron. He grinned as he looked down at you, and you suddenly felt very self conscious about leaning over so far in front of the buret. You quickly snapped up, standing straight, focusing on the buret with a reddening face.

“You’re Y/N right?” he asked. How he knew your name was beyond you, you’d never really talked to him before beyond a few yes or no’s.

“Yeah,” you answered, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, still intently focusing on the meniscus in the buret.

“Do you know where the sodium hydroxide is? I need some more,” he asked.

“Um, it’s just over there, you should just have to pipette it into your beaker,” you said, pointing to the dark brown container kept under the chemistry hood. His mouth formed an ‘o’ as he slowly nodded looking over.

“I see, thank you!” he said in a chipper demeanor as he walked over.

“What the hell was that about?” Jen asked, jumping onto anything other than the mundane topics. Your face reddened again as you didn’t even know what the hell that was about.

“What do you mean?” you asked, turning to face her, but before she could elaborate Aaron was back.

“Hey Y/N have you used one of those automatic pipettes before?” he asked sheepishly, holding a still empty beaker. You finally turned to face him and looked up. God he really was tall, or were you just short…nevermind that all.

“Have you not?” you asked, a bit shocked he’d gotten this far without having been subjected to one in high school or the general labs. He grinned again shrugged,

“Think you can help a poor guy out?”. You felt your stomach do a bit of a flip as you mumbled some sort of an agreement under your breath. He handed you the beaker once you were at the sodium hydroxide and you tried to explain the process and how to use the pipette. He made sure to make a dramatic show of nodding before you handed him back his beaker. You handed him back the beaker and stared at him a second before rolling your eyes,

“You know how to do this you little-” you started going off at him before he grinned mischievously,

“You do it so good though!” he exclaimed and nudged your arm which did shut you up, “You always just seem like you know what you’re doing,” he added.

“I don’t know about- ah- thanks,” you mumbled as you looked around the room, trying to avoid eye contact, not knowing where any of this was coming from. Has he really been paying attention to you this whole time? He thought you were smart? He thought you knew what you were doing? Was he complimenting you? He laughed and walked back to his lab bench as you went back to yours and apologized to Jen.

“You still don’t know what that’s all about?” she laughed under her breath as she pointed her pencil at you. Going back to the buret you shook your head.

“Honest to god I didn’t even think he knew my name,” you said, with a small smile, “he just wanted me to do his damn work for him though,”.

Another hour later once the lab was about halfway done your feet started hurting from standing for so long. You regretted not wearing better ones, but how were you supposed to know… As you were stretching your back and trying to get comfortable you made eye contact with Aaron from across the lab. The goofball had a thing of sodium hydroxide right next to him on his side of the lab this whole time. He never needed to come to your side. Instead of looking away he smiled and waved. You snorted to yourself and bit your bottom lip as you quickly waved back before looking back to your experiment.

After the tortuous three hour lab was finally done you let down your hair and threw your lab goggles into your backpack, catching yourself in a mirror on the way out and realizing just how bad the marks left behind on your face were.

“Raccoon eyes!” Jen laughed as she appeared by you in the mirror, finding herself in a similar situation.

“How the hell are we supposed to be taken seriously on campus like this?” you laughed as you tried to see if pulling on your skin helped at all, but much to your chagrin it did nothing.

“I mean they’ll just be jealous we get to do labs instead of just lecture all day,” Jen hummed as she waved goodbye. You smiled and waved back as you threw your backpack over your shoulder and moved to follow.

“Y/N!” Aaron yelled from behind you, getting you to look over your shoulder, “Look we’re twins,” he laughed as he pointed to his face, also having deep marks from the goggles around his glasses on his forehead and cheeks. You couldn’t help but laugh not only at his comment but also how absurd it was that he was now treating you like a close friend.

“I think we all learned our lesson today with the goggles,” you said as you started walking out, with him falling into step beside you.

“You heard the professor: goggles on, risk gone,” he recited, doing an excellent impression of your professor which garnered another laugh from you. “Hey, so I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while, but um, do you want to study together? You’ve always been getting the top grades in our classes and you don’t seem like a total nerd…” he said, trailing off as he tried to think of a way to finish the sentence.

“A total nerd?” you asked, faking shock at his accusation.

“See- you can take a joke,” he defended himself and holding his hands up, holding the door open for you with his hip, “I’m trying to get into the FBI, y’know, and I know I heard you are too, so I was thinking of proposing a sort of pact?” he continued to explain, glancing down to see your reaction. You met his eyes before quickly darting back down. It’s true, you did want to be a part of the FBI, as stupid a dream it sounded some days. At the beginning of the year one of your classes had you all go around and discuss what you wanted to do in the long-run, mostly just so then the professor could guilt you into remembering you saying that when students were struggling.

“I’ll bite,” you say simply with a nod, “you’re really stand out in the psychology classes,” you added.

“And you’re a genius at the science stuff!” he said, turning to walk backwards in front of you, keeping his pace right ahead of yours as he talked facing you, “you’re seeing the vision!”. You couldn’t help but laugh again as you looked at him getting giddy.

“Okay okay, don’t trip,” you said as you pulled his wrist so he was back in step with you, both of you smiling like idiots at this point, knowing that this would be the start of a special friendship.

A/N yeah I'll stand by Aaron being a total college himbo (/endearing) and I'll probably write whatever big event causes him to get serious near the end of his time in college and turn into the daddy hotch we know and love.

#aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #hotch #college au

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yuellii · 9 months

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baby, we’re the new romantics !

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 some born-rich, noisy man falls for a completely normal ( maybe struggling ) woman

feat. childe, referred to as ajax

wc. 2.7k

note. gn reader, modern au, references a scene from I Love Yoo, this is a little birthday fic for one of my very best friends in the whole wide world : @vivinens !!

To put it bluntly, it sucked working at McDonald’s.

Other than the fast-paced environment and the tough remarks from rude customers, what arguably sucked the most was that he worked in the building just across the street. Literally just a few steps and you’d be at risk of seeing him.

It wasn’t that you hated Ajax ( okay, maybe you did a little ); he was a fun way to wind down in-between classes sometimes at university because of his loud personality. And, he was attractive to stand next to, you’ll give him that in addition to being a very understanding friend. But seeing him in the workplace is quite possibly the last thing you could ever want to ask for.

What made matters even worse was during your desperate job search last month, when you got a recruitment offer at the place he worked at. You thought it’d be some small thing like where generic college students worked, not some big multi-million firm in this massive building with workers walking around in suits and pencil skirts galore. And of course, when you met with the mean recruiting lady named Rosalyne for your interview, it was impossible not to spot Ajax at the corner of your eyes with a goofy smile on his face.

And when Ms. Rosalyne went back to scold him after your interview, it was more than obvious you were only here because he pushed your application.

How embarrassing.

“You can try again!” he said to you in good spirits in the university courtyard one week after. The two of you were sitting together as the sun was setting on campus, having both finished all your classes for the day. “They’re opening another clerical position soon since our current one is leaving, apply then!” And to you, he was acting all completely normal in his normal young-adult way, meanwhile you were trying to erase the image of him in a suit from your head.

You sighed, “I don’t think the high-class life of business is for me yet, Ajax.”

The roll of your eyes caused him to visibly deflate. Just how obsessed was he with the idea of you getting hired? “But I want you to work with you so baddd…!” he groaned, dramatically shoving his hands onto his face.Then he leaned back forward, slumping until his forehead came down to rest on your shoulder. Such an attention-grabbing act of depression—you almost came to entertain the idea, too.

“I don’t even have office clothes,” you scoffed, bumping him off your shoulder.

He yelped from the force of your push for a moment before he grabbed your arm, pulling it so harshly with such a force that had you clashing right onto his chest ( Yeah, friends, or something like that ). And even as you began to punch on his chest in protest, he just hugged you tight and whined, “I can buy you some! You’ll fit right in—and I get to see you every day at school and at work!”

Seeing him every day sounded like hell, you were so sure this man was insane.

“You are not buying me office clothes!” you denied, still trying to push yourself away.

“I can totally afford it, though!” he pouted. After he relaxed his grip around your body, you still found it too tough to escape his weird embrace. That’s your karma for being friends with the guy who goes to the gym in-between classes, you suppose. And after more struggling to set yourself free, you eventually gave up as the sunset reduced to silence.

That was when he squeezed you tight once more for a last makeshift hug, then planted an ambiguously-friendly kiss on your cheek as he said, “Let’s go get dinner now? I’ll drive.”

“Yeah, sure. Can we get chicken nuggets?”

He lifted both of your bodies up to your feet, watching as you collected your things off the seat before he led you by the hand to his car. “Pff, you always want nuggets,” he teased. “But yeah, I’m down—there’s a McDonald’s right next to my work, let’s go there while I try to convince you to apply at my job!”

And now you work at said McDonald’s.

You didn’t tell him, of course. Only that you “finally got a job,” so that he could finally stop trying to get you hired at his stuffy building space.

It was pretty busy in the morning when people in office attire would come in for a quick, cheap coffee. Lunch and dinner time was also busy as expected—it was one of the things that made you happy to be a cashier and not one of the cooks or drive-through people.

And the best part about this was that you never saw the uptight Ms. Recruiter Rosalyne here, nor Ajax himself. You knew for a fact that Ajax only went to McDonald’s when it was with you, as he preferred other fast foods, so even if his work was just right there, you really didn’t have to worry about accidentally seeing him. If you did… Well, that would probably be really embarrassing, wouldn’t it?

It was one o’clock in the afternoon, lunch rush.

People were rude, your coworkers were irritable, customers were in a rush—horrible, really, but also a normal day for you. Just smile and put on that customer service voice and it will soon be over. Plus, you got free chicken nuggets for your own lunch break before this.

It was not until you felt your phone vibrate in the pocket of your jeans. Well. It was not that common to get a text like that. Your family should know you’re at work; your friends, too. Just one peak—only one, just while the customer in front of you is still holding up the line while he decides what to order. Propping your phone up behind the register, you open it to check your lockscreen.

orange fuckwad: heyyy you want some mcds nuggets?!?!? ;)

Holy shit. Absolutely not.

“Can I order the uhhh…” Oh good lord you have to turn off your phone now. “Can I order the uhhh McLobster?”

“Sorry sir, the McLobster was discontinued five years ago.” You were about to blow your brains out.

“No I swear I just ordered it last week?”

Your eyes kept shifting to the door. And there, finally, in all his glory making your heart absolutely drop in fear, was Ajax coming through the door. And for you, too—to buy you a box of chicken nuggets. In any other case, you’d find it endearing ( and it still was! ) but in this instance you really wanted to die right now.

The customer suddenly raised an eyebrow at you when you shifted your body to the side, trying to use his body as a shield from the eyes of your friend. There was a second cashier next to you—hopefully Ajax will line up on their line instead of yours. And hopefully, you could use this crusty McDonald’s hat to hide your face.

“Hey!” your coworker suddenly called out to you. You looked towards their empty cashier line with a glimmer of hope for good news. “I’m going on my lunch!” Your face dropped. “I’ll see you in 30, yeah?”

No! Not yeah! But you couldn’t do anything but plead with your facial expression as they left to the backroom, leaving Ajax with no choice but to join your line. If you could blow up this whole building right now, God, you would.

Five customers until him, four customers until him, three, two, one—

“Woah!” The surprise on his face felt insulting. Actually, you still used the hat to hide your face as best as you could. It was failing at hiding your identity from him as expected, but at least it helped you obscure the view of his… physique. Him, with his… um, his black slacks and white collared shirt that was just a little too tight on him, and his grey blazer that was thrown over his shoulder. One button at the top unfastened, almost as if he loosened it just to breathe during his lunch break.

And his hair, if you didn’t want to meet his eyes then you were honestly staring there. Whose hair was usually messy and tousled, now slicked perfectly for once with gel, all in a proper yet still very Ajax-way. The sides were in place, meanwhile strands over his eyes and at the top of his hair remained loose in that messy way that still characterized him. God, you might just die from embarrassment and awkwardness right now.

“This is where you work?” he asked, incredulously.

“Good afternoon, sir. What can I get for you today?” you smiled. Please, please just go with it.

He looked surprised at your voice, especially since it was so fabricated and one he had not heard before. You just hoped he wouldn’t be a dumb prick to you today, just this once. “Oh, um…” Please, please. “One ten-piece chicken nugget, please.” Thank God.

“Would you like a drink with that?”

“Yes, one large soda, if that’s okay?”

“Will that be all?”

“Uh.” He looked confused. You just stared at him. “Yeah… Yeah, I think so.”

Then he swiped his card, you directed him to the side, and he left the line. With a lingering gaze, of course. He looked like a lost ( and maybe even a little hurt ) puppy after his order, and as much as this made you feel sad for him, you were just glad to get through with him as a customer without any complications. He’ll definitely be bothering you after this, anyways.

He pretty much watched you the entire time he waited for his food, eyeing you with a look of concern that did not belong on his usual expression. But you ignored him for your own betterment—you’d really just rather get through this rush hour of customers. And when his order number was finally called, he held the small bag with nuggets and his large soda with confusion. Oh, right. That food was probably bought for you.

You sent him a look and a head tilt that notioned ‘Just eat it’, and surprisingly, he got it. Ajax, with his pristine proper suit and blazer over his shoulder, sat down at a dirty barstool and ate his ten-piece chicken nuggets. He was still watching you, though; he glanced at you every few seconds while he was chewing. Minutes that felt so long passed, and you just hoped his lunch break would end soon so he could get back to his building.

“Hello again!” You almost jumped in place when you found him in front of you again, having finished his nuggets.

“Ajax,” you grumbled, trying to speak quietly. There was another customer coming to line up behind him. “I can’t talk during my shift.”

“Oh!” He looked at you in innocent surprise for a second, definitely not as depressed as earlier. “No, I was just gonna order.”

You wanted to die. “Didn’t you already…” Clearing your throat, you remembered there was another customer lined up behind him. Thank heavens the lunch rush was over already. Time to put on the customer service voice for him again. “What can I get for you?”

“A box of ten-piece chicken nuggets, please!” he smiled. “And a large soda!”

If you didn’t feel like killing him before, well you certainly did now. And guess what, he ate this order, too! Was he doing this out of spite now? Ordering nuggets and then eating them right in front of you? Because honestly, it was making you less hungry and more confused, if anything. This was definitely not what you expected—but then again, you fully anticipated he’d hold up the line just to talk to you. But no, suddenly he was a McDonald’s nugget fan?

The moment you get out of here, you’re going to twist his ear. Time passes again where you purposely avoid his gaze. So, so much time. Either his lunch break was just incredibly long, or time was just going so slow because he was here. You bet it was the latter.

And then, once again, you find him at the front of your line.

“Hello!” he smiled. He looks happy just to see you. “Can I get a ten-piece box of chicken nuggets?”

“And a large soda with that?” you asked, almost with a sigh.

He looks uneasy, standing to the tips of his toes for a moment. “No,” he drags out with hesitance. “Side of large fries, actually.”

Ooo, how different! It’s the most entertainment you could wish for in a day. And when you shoo him to the side this time, he has the biggest smile on his face. How unusual—in this situation, at least. Then when his order comes, he actually turns to leave this time. He walked to the glass doors with an innocent grin and a large McDonald’s bag in his hand, happily waving to you goodbye. Finally.

“You never told me you work at the McDonald’s right by me!”

He was there waiting for you when you walked out of your shift, packed up, ready to go home, and definitely smelling like grease. “Well aren’t you out early…” you sighed at him. “It’s only three in the afternoon.”

“I asked if I could leave so I could come see you sooner,” he frowned. Endearing, once again. And your heart may have skipped just a bit when he lifted up the last brown bag he bought. “I saved these for you. They’re not warm anymore but there’s fries, a soda, and fifteen nuggets… I, uh, couldn’t finish the second order.”

You nearly laughed out. “Why in the world did you order so much anyways?”

“So I could see you again,” he pouted.

He was still wearing his office attire, top button unfastened once again and blazer under his arm once you took the fast food bad again. You might’ve just had nuggets during your lunch break, and this food may be cold and soggy by now, but the thought of him buying it for you made it the best meal in the world. And, it was also the fact he left his own shift early just to see you. He could be nice at times; so nice, it almost comforted the fact he made you want to die earlier.

“You embarrassed me,” you tiredly sighed. The both of you were walking together to his car—how he knew you were dropped off here was beyond you.

“Sorry!” he sheepishly smiled. “I really didn’t think I’d see you there…” Which was understandable, sure, but did he really have to order that many McNuggets just to see you at the cashier stand? “But now that I know you work right next to me…”

“Ajax, no.”

“Oh come on!” He pouted with a considerably loud whine while the both of you crossed the street to his building. You figured he was likely parked behind it, wherever the employee parking was. It still felt a little weird to be in your McDonald’s uniform walking next to a big business building. “I get to see you every lunch break—doesn’t that sound so fun?”

“No not really.”

He groaned even louder again, slumping his shoulders as if he was not dressed like he was going to an office party right now. But then, in some sort of comforting silence, he aligned his arm over your shoulders. It was cute, honestly—how he would still do this despite the fact you smelled like pure grease right now ( and the fact you were trying to ignore the feeling of his arm muscles that were practically bursting through his sleeves ).

He eyed you a few times during this silent walk, watching as you stuffed your face with nuggets and fries. Holy God this tasted so good for some reason…?! You totally deserved this after your shift of rude customers and embarrassing moments—then your good friend Ajax brings you nuggets and fries right after. How romantic.

And speaking of your ‘friend’, he pulled you closer against him, arm practically swallowing your entire being over your shoulders. Not that you were complaining, though; you found his weird obsession with being near you all the time just a little bit cute. And besides, he drove you places, and he bought you chicken nuggets.

Who could not love a man that buys you chicken nuggets?

#childe x reader #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x you #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x gender neutral reader #childe x gender neutral reader

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